Tag: Humor

Corey closes his eyes and allows the sound of the paint escaping the can to be his guide, moving his arms in an almost rhythmic fashion. Images dance wildly in his mind and escape through his hands, painting across the empty canvas before him.

It seems like forever before he finally opens his eyes and stares dumbfounded at the images now on the wall. He allows himself to smile momentarily, before a heavy hand falls down upon his shoulder and grips him tightly, then slams him into the wall.

“WHAT THE FUCK YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING BOY?” A deep voice growls into his ear.

“Let ME go fuck face!” He yells as he tries to push back, but finds himself pushed harder against the wall.

“Fuck face? Who the FUCK do you think YOU are, to be calling me a fuck face?” The man growls as he forces Corey’s face harder against the wall. “I could squash your tiny little head against this wall right now, and no one would ever know. So watch what you’re saying princess. Now, what the FUCK do you think you’re doing to the side of my shop?”

“Y-Y-Your shop?” Corey stutters nervously.

“Y-Y-Yes, MY shop! Did I stutter or something?”

“N-No!”

“Good, I didn’t think I did. Now tell me what you’re FUCKING doing painting this monstrosity on the side of my shop, like a certified misfit?”

“I don’t know, it just happened.”

The man relaxes his grip on Corey for a moment and lets out a muffled laugh, before pressing Corey harder against the wall again.

“Do you think I’m an idiot?” He asks.

Court closes his eyes and softly prays for this to be a bad dream, but the man shakes Corey violently before asking the question again.

“I asked you a FUCKING question boy! Do you think I’m an idiot?”

“N-N-No,! No I don’t think you’re an idiot, I swear!”

“Then why the FUCK are you treating me like one?”

“I never meant to, I swe…”

The man pulls Corey away from the wall then   thrusts him back into it, “Stop fucking lying to me son! The more you lie, the worse things start getting for you. Now I’m going to give you one last chance to tell me the truth, or I’m going to have to start teaching you a few lessons in manners!” The man hisses into Corey’s ear. “Now what are you doing painting SHIT like this over my god damn wall?”

“I DON’T KNOW! HONESTLY I DON’T! SOMETHING CALLED OUT AND I ANSWERED, THAT’S ALL! I PROMISE YOU, WHATEVER MADE ME DO THIS, IS SOMETHING I DON’T KNOW!”

They both stand in silence for some moments as the man contemplates Corey’s story, “Boy,” he finally says suddenly, causing Corey to jump in fright. “Boy,” he says as he leans in close to Corey and begins fumbling with his pants. “I almost believed you.”

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!” Corey screams as his pants drop to his ankles.

“Teaching you a lesson in intelligence boy, and getting a load off as well,” he grunts as Corey feels something hard and big press against his anus. “Don’t pucker you boy, it’ll only make it hurt more,” the man says as he trusts forward.

“A card by any other name, would not be a card,” he says with a thoughtful pause as he looks out into the sea of a few thousand faces, all focused on his every word. He smiles, winks playfully before spinning around and exploding into a cavalcade of roses. The crowd sits in stunned silence, people rush from everywhere in a panic. Whispers start to break out throughout the audience, like a wave it picks up pace until it is a roar, and then he appears back on stage with the a sarcastic smile upon his face to everyone’s amazement.

“But what if a card was something entirely different, and you only assumed it was a card, because that’s what it looked like,” he says as the room once again centres upon him. “Take this ornament,” he says pointing to the massive screen behind him. “To any of you this bauble is nothing more than a decoration to be hung upon your tree come Christmas. But what if it was something entirely different. What if this cheap looking ornament was something wonderful? What if this simplistic looking ornament was something you could not live without?” He says, emphasising each word without a subtle vibration that hums throughout the stadium. The rhythmic wave that flows sends the crowd into a fevered frenzy, hitting every point they were designed to hit, literally making Samuel Wight into a god.

He flashes his million dollar smile as he wizzes around the stage and ignites the crowd in a chant, calling for them to feed their own desires as well as his.

“What if I told you this tiny little ornament, would be the biggest salvation your empty pathetic life would ever hope to find! Would you believe ME?” He screams out, thrusting an ear towards the crowd, who roar with a united “YES!” Back at him.

He touches his chest and smiles softly. “You touch me with your kind words, and I love you all so very much for that. But, what if someone out there, a loved one, a friend, or an acquaintance you hardly know tells you I’m a fraud, a charlatan. Would you believe them?” The crowd roars back with a venomous “NO!”

“What if someone told you that, that little ornament was only an ornament. What if someone told you that, that little ornament would only bring you pain. What if someone told you that I was a liar, and had lied to you not only about this little ornament, but everything I had ever told you. WOULD YOU BELIEVE THEM?”

The crowd erupts like a volcano with a unanimous “NO!”

He smiles and struts across the stage to a podium that stands in the centre.

“This knife,” he says as he turns towards the screen, which now displays a large bladed knife. “This knife will not only set you free, it will change your life. This knife,” he says turning back to the crowd, with a wicked smile upon his face. “This knife will not only change the way those nay sayers feel about the AMAZING ADVANCES what we are ACHIEVING HERE IN THIS ROOM EVERY SINGLE DAY! It will SHUT THEM UP, FOR GOOD!” The room fizzes with excitement, as whispers once more begin to build into enormous waves roaring upon the shore of life.

“This KNIFE will be their END and your BEGINNING!”

“I said it, but he was the one who meant it. You heard it, but instantly regretted doing it. And he was the only one who really wanted it, but never has the chance to do it,” he says with a wild smile upon his face, as he throws himself across the top of the piano like a poorly choreographed show girl. “Is that about as close as you need me to be?” He asks as he thrusts the microphone towards the naked woman who finds herself tied over-zealously to a chair.

“FUCK YOU TRENT, O…” he smacks her in the face with the microphone, deliberately cutting her off at the pass.

“WAH-WAHHH! Wrong answer!” He says spinning himself around like a breakdancer, expertly dismounting the piano and landing clumsily to the floor with his head landing in her lap. He looks up red faced, a smile stretching from ear to ear. “Sorry Miss Miles, I never meant to fall in there,” he darts a quickly look downwards, then looks back up to her. “If you don’t mind me saying, the hedge is in need of repair, and it wouldn’t hurt getting some clippers down there so the pool boy could see what rock he’s licking.”

“Don’t you ever STOP?” She hisses, spitting in his face. Without hesitation he slaps her across the face and grabs her face, squeezing her lips so they pucker up, then spits into her mouth.

“Don’t try and out me, ME!” The venomously growls as he launches himself to his feet, then smiles before bowing elegantly. “There was a time a situation like this would have me all stuff and ready, but I’ve found through the constant years of harassment you’ve given me that I am not excited by any of this,” he says gesturing towards her nonchalantly. “I know that sounds crazy and wild, but it’s the truth. Don’t get me wrong, you’re a fine looking woman who would give any man a sure fire run for his premature ejaculation juice, it’s just not me.” He says with a smile as he dance around the room. “Call me a fool, but I like there to be something more, something real,” he says sliding up next to her. “But don’t let that fool you, because before this night is over I’m going to fuck you in ways you’ve only ever seen on the internet.”

“He’ll stop you before you lay a hand on me, and this tune he’ll stop you once and for all!” She declares proudly. They lock eyes with one another, as they find themselves trapped in an impossible stand off, a war of concentration that only the weak fall fowl to tricks.

He smiles broadly, not breaking their gaze. “How fitting would it be. How grand would your night be, to have him inside you instead of me? Well I hate to break your spirit, but lover boy with the three-and-a-half inch dong, ain’t coming tonight, or tomorrow night. In fact,” he says as he grabs her head and turns it to the left. “He ain’t coming anywhere, ever again,” he whispers into her ear as a screen drops to the ground, revealing a dismembered corps mounted upon the wall.

She screams in terror, while he licks the side of her face. “Wild, ain’t it?” He asks.

The blade slices into Jeremy’s stomach and rips upwards, tearing him apart. Lucas clenches his teeth together, thrusting out of verecourao breath as he is bathed in Jeremy’s blood. He twists his upper half quickly as Roxanne charges towards him. Like a casino dealer the tiny blades spring from his hands, permanently stalling her attack. He digs his left foot into the ground and tightens his grip on the blades handle, as he turns back to defend himself against Glover’s attack. The blades exploded with electricity as they collide. As they stand evenly matched both men let out a growl of ferocity as they stare deathly into each others eyes.

“The student is now the master old man, I hope you’ve made peace with whatever the fuck someone like you holds dear!”

Glover smiles beneath his mask, “You have always been premature with everything you do, like your old man when he came over you mothers lap, you were just lucky one of those impossible moments became a possible miracle.”

“FUCK YOU!” Lucas screams as he draws back and drives his blade down hard upon Glover’s sword, shattering it.

They stare for a few timeless moments before Lucas smiles wryly, then slices the edge swiftly across Glover’s throat. He falls to his knees desperately gasping for air as his lungs quickly fill up with blood.

Lucas draws back his blade, preparing for the kill blow. “Remember how I told you one day I would take your miserable life? Today’s the day!” He yells as he brings the blade down, only his strike to be deflected by the blade of another. His eyes quickly shoot up to meet those of his new adversity.

“Y-Y-You!” He stammers through trembling lips.”H-H-How can this be? I-I, we killed you!”

“A man can be killed by another, a legend lives forever. I stopped being long before I was, and you could never take what was to be,” he says as he thrusts Lucas back and places a hand upon Glover’s shoulder. The two share a moment, touching on another plain of reality. Lucas screams with torment as he drives his blade down once more, only to find his attack refused once more.

“Like an flea to the dog, your existence depends on others to give you life. Without, you are but a shadow, and like all shadows once the light is shone upon you, you cease to be. Let me be the light!” He hisses through clenched teeth, driving strike after strike down upon his impossible blade. Moments quickly turn into minutes as Lucas continues his futile attack, until finally he stands exhausted before them.

“The sword of the believer is much more powerful than that of those who only believe in themselves,” Glover says as he stands whole once more before Lucas, the stranger no longer anywhere to be seen. Glover hold out his hand, “Give me your blade, show mercy upon what you once worshiped and allow your tomorrow to be something worth striving for.”

They stare into each other’s eyes, before Lucas drops to his knees and hands his blade over to Glover’s waiting hands.

“I don’t ask for forgiveness, all I ask if f…” he doesn’t get to finish his words as the blade from his own sword is driven into his skull.

“Forgiveness is for the next life to decide!”

“From the moment that son-of-a-bitch set foot in this town, he’s brought nothing but trouble. It’s vita that we choose the only foreseeable choice, not a choice for ourselves, but a choice for the very existence of the town itself!” Wendy proclaims loudly as she jumps to her feet, the small crowd cheer in agreement, all except Kylie who claps her hands loudly in sarcastic fashion.

“This isn’t reality television honey, this is unadulterated reality where you can’t pick and choose who stays. I know when the cameras were running you were queen, but they went as soon as the ratings did. It wasn’t any one persons fault, it’s just that no one cared enough.”

Wendy rolls her eyes and feigns sticking her fingers down her throat, the room erupts with laughter. “Your opinion is about as attractive as your overgrown bush,” Wendy says with a wry smile upon her face, causing the laughter to grow louder, wolf whistles break out in random union throughout the room.

Kylie’s cheeks glow red, and her brow furrows with focus. “At least I’m not fake, because no matter how much you dress up shit, it’s still shit!”

“Ouch, did I hurt your feelings? It’s the truth that cuts the deepest,” Wendy says with a patronising smile. “Jimmy was never popular, when the so called movers and shakers decided to move him into a more focal character, and show less of MY story was when the show began to falter. Jimmy is the only reason why we’ve been cast aside, extraditing him out of the community is our only option. Once we’ve got the town back on track, and the executives have seen our live feeds,” she sassy flashing a smile towards one of the cameras. “They’ll be back, and so will the world.”

“You’re delusional, the world didn’t stop watching because the shows focus changed, they stopped watching because the town was FUCKING boring. Jimmy was a calculated attempted by the executives to drag people back, and they didn’t want to come, because we SUCKED!”

“Maybe you’re right, if you’re only talking about yourself,” Wendy says as the crowd parts and she sashays her way over to Kylie like she’s walking down the catwalk of a Paris fashion show, she then looks Kylie up and down as she circles her like a shark before finally coming it a stop which ends in a Madonna like pose. “Honey you need more work than trimming that overgrown cootchie, but we can still make you a star. You see honey know I don’t suck, and I know that most of the people in this room don’t either, but you know who does?”

“Jimmy,” Kylie says softly under her breath.

Wendy smiles, “Jimmy is the right answer,” she says as she turns towards one of the cameras. “The tribe has spoken and the vote is unanimous Jimmy, you are the chink in the chain. You Jimmy, are the lowest of the low. The weakest of the weakest.” She says pointing a well manicured finger at Jimmy, who hangs wide eyes and hogtied from the old hangman’s tree that the old swinging judges sentenced many a life to death upon.

“It’s like snow,” Jasmine says with eyes wide and a look of wonder on her face as she turns to Mark.

“If only, snow would be way better than this,” he says as he pulls a pair of goggles down over his eyes and holds a rag over his mouth and nose. “Are your ready?”

The life drops from her face and she looks at him sternly, before pulling down a pair of googles of her own. “Are you sure it’s safe? There’s no chance Clint, or any of his shit-faced arseholes are hanging around?”

“We have to make a run for it sooner rather than later. The longer we stay here, the more of a chance leechers have of finding us. Clint and his pose of wanna be kingpins are the least of our worries.” He relies quickly and with exuberated animation of his arms and facial features.

“Yeah,” she’s says as she looks up at the sky, watching the ash fall. “Where are we going to go?”

“The Drunken Admiral would be the best bet, it’s a defendable location we should easily be able to tighten once we set up camp, and Its also the first place Barney would’ve headed when all this shit started taking place.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She says thrusting her hands on her hips and giving him a fierce look.

“What?”

“The fucking Drunken Admiral ain’t no fucking safe haven dickhead, and I ain’t going there.”

“Jas, you don’t know what you’re saying, the Admiral is probably the most defendable location in all of town.”

“Bullshit! It’s a fucking dump, and besides Barney is the last cunt I wanna see, so pick somewhere else or you’re on your own,” she says sternly.

“But babe, you can’t mean that. The Admiral is the safest place I know, and if there’s anyone you want beside you when the chips are down, it’s Barney. Just give it a chance, please?” He asks, cupping her face with one of his hands.

“Fuck you!” She hisses venomously as she forces his hand away, and gets to her feet. “I’ll be at my mums if you change your mind,” she says as she presses a silk scarf against her face then rushes out of the building and into the street. She’s only a few feet away when she finds herself quickly set upon by a small group of leechers. She screams in terror, calling for Mark to come to her assistance, pleading with him to be her saviour but he does not show. Instead the she is dragged to the ground as the leechers feed. Out of the corner of her eye, while teeth sharp and pointy bite deeply into her flesh, she sees Mark scurry off into the night towards the Drunken Adrmiral, towards his lover Barney, and unfortunately for Jasmine away from her. She tries to cry out once more for Mark to come back, but she finds only a gurgling sound escapes from her throat as she begins chocking on a river of blood that brings to fill her lungs. She stares up to the sky, watching as the very sky itself burns and wishes for the last time, as the leechers tear into her flesh, that it could be snow rather than ash.

They both sit there staring at the egg in silence for what seems like an eternity, until Toby eventually turns towards Mitchell. “So, do you think it really is a dragon egg?”

Mitchell rolls his eyes before smiling broadly, “Fuck yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

“Well, Burton could’ve been lying about it being a dragon egg for starters, and then there’s the whole bullshit story of how he came to have it in his possession in the first place.”

 

“Mate, you are kidding yourself on so many levels. Burton wouldn’t lie to us, because he’d know what I’d do to him if I found out that retard was fucking us around, and why do you think his story is bullshit? It made sense to me.”

Mitchell stares at him for several moments, is eyes widening the longer he stared.

“WHAT?” Toby say, shoving Mitchell away.

“You really are as dense as they all say you are, aren’t you?”

“What the FUCK is that supposed to mean? Who says I’m dense?” Toby says grabbing Mitchell by the collar and threatening to hit him with a raised fist.

“Go on, do it an see where it gets you?” Mitchell says sternly.

“FUCK YOU!” Toby says as he shoves Mitchell away, and quickly clambers to his feet.

“You ain’t my type,” Mitchell says as he springs to his feet and pops a well-placed punch into Toby’s jaw, sending him to the ground in a heap.

“WHAT THE FUCK YOU DO THAT FOR?” Toby cries as he grabs his red pulsating jaw.

“Reminding you who runs the roost, do you need more reminding?” Mitchell says as he tightens both hands into fists.

They lock eyes as both boys allow their imagination fill in the missing pieces of the puzzle, and it’s only when the result is obviously a forgone conclusion that Toby pulls his gaze away.

“No, I get the picture,” he mutters underneath his breath.

“Sorry? Did you just say something?” Mitchell asks, as he cups one of his ears with a hand to give the impression of needing an amplifier to hear his words.

“I SAID NO!” Toby yells back.

“I thought as much,” Mitchell says with a wry smile.

Toby screws up his face, then nods towards the egg. “Now what did you mean about Burton’s story being full of shit?”

Mitchell’s smile grows larger as he crouches down beside Toby. “Let me paint the scene for you, just so you can get a really good picture in your mind. It’s midnight, maybe a little later. The moon ain’t out because the cloud coverage is thick, and the moon just can’t find a way to get through. Burton and his mates Bucktooth Clifford and Jerk-weed Jones as out playing knights of the round table, or some nerdy shit like that because that’s what the little poofters do at night. How’s the imagination going, are you with me?” He asks.

“I’m fucking with you, just get on with it!”

“Don’t be so impatient, it’s all about the theatrical valve. You don’t have that, you don’t have anything. Anyway, Burton’s running around after taking a load off one of his boys and falls down a ditch, in said ditch he finds a whole swag of these eggs,” Mitchell says, pointing towards the large glowing egg. “After some nerd study montage the three of them come to the conclusion that the eggs they have found are dragon eggs, and that because you are such a great friend to the three of them, and would never ever hurt any of them ever, that you deserve to have one of these rare eggs as well. Don’t you think, after listening to it as it really happened, that it sounds a bit like they’re pulling your leg to make you look like the dumb fuck you’re proving yourself to be?”

Toby looks over to the egg, and then to Mitchell once more and jumps to his feet. “Those fucking nerds are going to regret THIS!” he yells as he kicks the egg, causing the egg to crack open. Both of their jaws drop open as they stare at the half formed baby dragon that lies lifeless in the remains of the egg.

His hand blindly feel around the cold earth beneath him until finally he feels the rock in his hand, and tightens his grip around it. Mustering up all the energy he can to throw it towards the outskirts of the small clearing he finds himself trapped in. The rock thuds to the ground several feet away from him, and he lets out a stifled groan of aggravation. Minutes pass before he ever so slowly brings his head up from cold wet ground, and looks down towards where it was a few moments ago. The red glistens on the bright white, and he fees what’s left of his stomach churn.

He allows his head to drop back to the ground and stares up in the sky as fresh snow gently drifts down from the heavens above. He allows a smile to escape his clutches as the beauty of the moment take him in its grip, and transports him to another place, one free from all the deludes of time and space. He sucks in a breath and finds himself once more in the snow, his body almost a foreign object to him now. The pain that initially encapsulated his every being now none existent, but with that so is the feeling of completeness. He can no longer feel the aches and pains of time that have been a part of his life for what seems like forever. The pain that was once in his hips that caused him constant distress now no longer a worry. His right foot that always ached right before a storm would hit because he broke it three times when he was seventeen.

Suddenly something pulls him along the ground, taking him through the snow towards some unknown destination. Every now and then whatever is dragging him stops it’s long journey towards where it’s final destination is, and he can feel a tingling sensation from somewhere below his belt. Then he’s torn to the left and then to the right, before being violently shaken like a rag doll, but there is no pain involved. After what his mind perceives as hours, he lifts his head wearily and spies the bloody face of his attacker. They lock eyes for a moment, but in that moment a thousand words pass back and forth between the two.

“P-P-P-Please,” he asks softly, it turns its head to the side and studies his face, then slowly edges its way towards his face. “P-P-P-Please,” he says once more. It stares silently at him, then bears its teeth letting out a low primeval growl from its stomach. It spreads its jaw wide and bites down upon his neck, and drags his half eaten remains towards a dark cave that’s opens out into the snowy countryside.

Tears rush down his pale face, as he fights for every breath. It’s as they get a few feet from the caves entrance that his glassy, almost empty eyes catch sight of the small figures moving out into the white snow and realises what the beast truly has in store for him.

“It’s not going to be that easy,” Jameson says as he looks over the newspaper clippings that cover the wall before them. “Whatever pattern he’s following, it’s going to be a lot more complex than us being able to see it straight away. This guy has clever but he also likes to play with his prey, and right now we’re his prey so this will all be about playing with our heads.”

“What makes you think it’s a he? This all could’ve easily been done by a woman,” a female officer says from the doorway. Jameson and Filtza turn slowly around to face her. “Hallow, Officer Sandra Hallow, right?” Jameson asks with a wry smile.

“T-T-That’s correct sir,” she says nervously.

“Sandra,” he stops and smiles broadens, “you don’t mind me calling you Sandra, do you?”

“N-N-No, of course not sir.”

His smile reaches from ear to ear now. “Thank you, Sandra. Please let me start by saying my mother, is a woman and through spending some seven and a half months, yup I was early,” he says waving his hand above his head rapidly, as Sandra’s face slowly glows bright red. “Through that time spent literally connected to a walking sack of estrogen fluid, I feel that I have a very tight connection with the female community. So please, understand that there is nothing sexist to my way of thinking, because I am almost a woman myself,” he says throwing his hands high into the air.

“I-I-I, I don’t kn…”

He places a hand on her shoulder and smiles softly. “It’s okay, sometimes I can’t find the words either. But then I remember,” he holds up his hand, forming a ‘c’ with his thumb and index finger. “I’m only this close to being a woman,” then grabs his crotch. “And THIS close to being a MAN!” The room erupts with laughter as he moves up beside her, as tears run down her cheeks. “Now go, and don’t let me see or hear from you again, or I’ll do more than embarrass you in front of everyone.”

She rushes out of the room, leaving Jameson to laugh at his own twisted version of self gratification.

“Right,” he says as he turns back to Filtza. “Make a note on the report the Officer Sandra Hallow abandoned her post at zero seven hundred and thirty-six hours, due to what she describe as girl issues,” he says with a smile.

“Sir, with all due respect, I think y…” Filtza begins to say before Jameson cuts him off.

“You DO NOT get paid to THINK Filtza, I DO! So when I say make a note on the report, I expect you to make a FUCKING note on the report!”

“Sir, I am not questioning yo…”

“Then write it fucking down, and let’s move on!” Jameson yells as he cuts Filtza off once more, as he takes a step forward.

“Sir, I do..” Filtza feels the impact we’ll before he saw Jameson swing the punch, the world revolves violently around him as he feels the floor one up to meet his face and then darkness.

“NOW! Who saw Filtza throw the first punch?” Jameson yells as a childlike laugh track begins to play loudly over hidden speakers in the room.

“Hello lover boy, do you still constantly think of my fucking your arse-cunt?” A voice asks.

Jameson spins around as metal spikes attached to chains fire out of the wall and pierce his wrists and legs. He screams in pain as everyone stands watching as he is pulled violently against the wall, impaling him upon more metal spikes that now cover the wall from beneath the newspaper clippings.

 

The eeriness is only intensified as a breeze tumbles through the playground, and giving the swings a gentle nudge. Lincoln spins around, pulling the shovel high into the air readying it for attack. His heart beats powerfully in his chest as a fine film of sweat seeps from his pours, causing a shiver to erupt throughout his small frame like an earthquake.

“Fuck!” He hisses under his breath as he frantically searched the deserted area for any movement, but the squeaking of the swinging swings is all that seems apparent. He turns back towards the school, letting out a sigh of relief only to be confronted by four unmoving figures standing a few feet before him. He freezes in place, tightening his sweaty hands around the shovels handle, as thick slime drips from the statue like figures mouth’s.

His mind begins to race in several different directions as he frantically attempts to come up with a plan of attack, but the most obvious straight forward approach becomes the only option as the figures launch forward. He swings wildly driving the blade of the shovel into the closest ones skull, it drops to the ground motionless almost instantly. The second one hits him just as he manages to free the shovel to use the long wooden handle as a defensive weapon, holding the snapping teeth of the creature at bay.
After several frantic seconds he forces it backwards, causing it to stumble into one of the others. Quickly he winds up, and swings the shovel like a flat blade, removing its head clean from its shoulders, then in the same motion he swings the shovel back and drives the shovels blade into the third creatures skull.
He has no time to ready himself for the final attacker as it hits him like a freight train, sending them both crashing to the ground. They struggle like a pair of feral cats, screaming and hissing until the creature finally straddles Lincoln and goes in for the kill. Out of desperation he forces his forearm into the line of fire, and the thing bites deeply down on it. Lincoln screams in agony but utilises the few moments he has brought himself to roll the creature over and at the same time pull the now in reach shovel into action, plunging the blade into the things skull.
He flops to the ground exhausted, but knows now more than ever that time is not on his side. He struggles to his knees and looks down at his swollen, puss ridden arm and swallows deeply. Pulling his belt free from his pants he wraps it tightly around his arm just above the elbow, stopping the flow of blood, then takes several deep breaths before using the sharpened edge of the shovels blade to slice his arm free. It takes four blows to finally free the arm from it’s home, then he quickly sutures the wound with torn pieces of his shirt. After several agonising moments he stumbles to his feet, sweat pouring down his brow. He tries to focus his vision onto the school which should be somewhere in front of him, as another small breeze blows through the playground causing the swings to let out a high pitched squeal once more.
He slowly turns around and looks over to the play equipment, only to find himself confronted by a plethora of motionless figures.

“F-Fuck me!” He hisses.

“If you don’t shut the fuck up, there ain’t going to be an after this for us to even contemplate what could be. Shit bro, I get the whole reflection crap, but that ca…” Daryl doesn’t get to finish his statement as Chris stuffs his hand over his mouth and signals downward. Daryl’s eyes widen with exasperation, and he nervously looks towards the floor sole meters below them. At first he has to tightly squint his eyes, as the refocus themselves to the light. But once they finally do, they spring open once more as he spies the frail form of Tabitha making her way blindly beneath them.

He casts his eyes back up at Chris, quickly communicating his intentions with a single look.

Chris, just as quickly shakes his head in disagreement. “No,” he hisses quietly though clenched teeth, but Daryl’s eyes pleads his case. Once more Chris shakes his head, as tears roll down his face “I will not lose you, I ca..” he doesn’t have a chance to finish as Daryl leans up, kissing him passionately on the lips.

“I love you, I always have,” he says as tears run down his cheeks as well.

“I can hear you, saying your goodbyes,” Tabitha’s crackly voice bellows from below. “You can both save yourselves time and come to me instead of continuing to run, for soon you will all be in the same place as I was once, before death was denied to me by those who thought they were doing the work of a so called god.”

“W-W-We can s-s-still do this,” Chris says, his voice shakey with fear.

“I wish we could, I wish this could be what it should be.” Daryl pauses as he brushes Chris’ hair from his face, curling it around his ear. “We both can’t get ou…” he doesn’t get to finish as he is pulled from the ducting and crashes to the floor. Chris screams as Tabitha scrambled upwards towards him, he empty eyes cut into him quickly followed by her boney fingers.

“Come child and regrant me the gift of eternal life, feed my curse with everything you are!” Chris kicks wildly at her, dislocating her jaw from her face. She snarls wildly as she sighs her fingernails into his leg and drags him downward, until eventually they both crash to the floor below. Chris quickly tries to scramble to his feet, but she is upon him faster than he can move. As he screams in terror she thrusts her jaw back into place while thick streams of saliva drips from her mouth.

“Hush child, it wi…” the post smashes into her skull violently, sending her to the ground. Daryl hits her over and over again, until her head is like a pancake, then turns to Chris who stares wide eyes at him and smiles faintly. He holds out a hand and they embrace, sharing another passionate kiss.

“I-I-I, I thought for a minute there you were right,” Chris says as they pull apart and stare deeply into each others eyes.

“For a minute there, I thought I was. Let’s get out of here be…” but he doesn’t get to finish as a boney hand tears through his chest…

 

“Suffice to say, we have the numbers to turn the tide,” Vincent says as he looks down over the small group that remain.

“Not to sound negative sir, but those FUCKING things have decimated our numbers. How can you even contemplate going against them on their home turf with such limited resources and men,” a voice yells out from the small group.

“Because the very fate of mankind as a species relies upon us stopping these things, that’s how we contemplate this sort of shit.” He says as he slowly makes his way through the parting crowd who open up before him, bringing him to a stop in front of the vocal young man. “I can see you’re scared sin, and believe me when I tell you this, so am I. Those things out there don’t belong anywhere but in fairy tales, scaring the shit out of little pissants. Instead they’re out there, threatening my very existence. Now I’d like to offer you the door, say it’s okay did you to not take part in this war. But this is extinction level shit, shit that requires me to have anyone who can hold a fucking gun and shoot it by my side. Do you understand son?”

The man nods his head, “I understand sir, those things killed everyone I’ve ever cared about when they turned rabid. I just believe..” he stops for a moment and looks around at all the faces that stare intensely towards him.

“You believe what boy?” Vincent asks commandingly.

“I-I-I, I believe there has to be a better way to stop these things. I mean, hasn’t research showed there social structure is built like a bee hive, can’t we utilise that information to our advantage. Surely there must be a queen, maybe if we take her out there may be some sort of opening we can manipulate to turn the tide our way.”

Vincent stares at him in silence for some moments before smiling and slapping a hand down onto his shoulder and squeezing. “I like you kid, you’re a thinker and we need more willing to use their heads instead of their cocks! What’s your name son?” He asks proudly.

“S-S-Samuel, Samuel Dekker.”

“Glad to have you onboard Samuel,” Vincent says as he pats Samuel’s shoulder once more then turns around and makes his way back up to the podium. “What young Samuel has eluded to is something our best strategists have been working on achieving over the course of the last eighteen months, but no matter how many test scenarios they ran, none of them ended with us, as a race surviving. That was until we were given an opportunity that could quite possibly avoid our extinction,” he paused as he looks down upon the many faces of the men and women who’s lives he holds in his hands, and swallows. “Our enemy, like a bee hive do everything they do to serve on thing, their queen. Like any social structure, if you take out the key controlling factor chaos will flourish. Intel informs us that even if we take the queen down, the hives soldiers will continue following their former queens orders until a new queen sits in her place. So taking down the queen will do little for our cause unless we have a queen who is on our side, ready to take the ousted queens place.” He says as a figure moves from out of the makeshift tent behind him. “Let me introduce the future queen Ikari of the Lique, and saviour of the human race as we know it.” Her wings buzz momentarily out of excitement as her sixteen eyes look over the small rag tag group before her.

“Humans, my kind have too long hunted you down, let us rise up together and show through unity truly wonderful, enchanting things can truly happen!”

He drives the blade up into Maria’s chest, twisting it with vigour, and even though tears stream down his cheeks he allows a demented smile to slowly grow larger on his lips.

“How’s that for a FUCKING surprise then, BITCH?” He yells as he spits in Maria’s face, and thrusts her now lifeless body to the floor.

“Oh my god Peter, what have you done?” Cheryl yells as she rushes to Maria’s side, screaming in terror. “S-S-She didn’t FUCKING mean any of it that way! She just wanted you to back off! Just a little!”

His eyes tighten, and he hits down on his tongue ever so lightly. “Don’t bullshit me Cheryl, she meant it exactly how it sounded! I’ve been taking SHIT all my life, and I’ve developed a hard skin because of it. But she wanted to be clever about it. She wanted to not only be funny about it all, but she also wanted to hurt my feelings. That’s where she         took it too far, and that why I had to punish her for it!”

“You could’ve done it in so many other ways. You didn’t need to kill her!” Cheryl screams as she rocks Maria’s silent form in her arms, a pool of blood growing beneath them.

“That’s where you’re wrong, killing her was the only option I had. Anything else would’ve encouraged others to do something similar, or worse, and that’s something I couldn’t have happening. If you’d lived your life the way I have, then you would understand.” He says as he slowly stares at the blood drip from the knife blade. “But you can’t, and you never will,” he adds as he looks up to meet her gaze.

“WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO PETER? YOU GOING TO KILL ME TOO NOW? YOU GOING TO PUNISH ME AS WELL?” Cheryl yells as she launches herself to her feet and shapes up to him, in the process doing her best impression of Becky Lynch.

“If I have to!” Peter says as he stabs the knife at her quickly, but she easily outmanoeuvres his attack and thrusts him up shady the wall, pulling him arm back until the pain forces him to release the knife. As it drops to the floor she drives a knee into his back and forced him down to the ground. “You ain’t got to the strength or skill to do anything to me birdie,” she hisses in his ear.

He explodes with rage, trying to fight his way to his feet. But the more he fights, encourages her to dig her knee harder into his back.

“DON’T CALL ME THAT! DON’T CALL ME THAT!” He screams frantically.

“What’s wrong little bird, have I hurt your feelings? Have I made you angry? Does it make you want to hurt me? Good, be a hurt little birdie, it’ll make it so much easier to do this,” she says as she pulls back and his arms, causing him to scream louder. “I’m going to break both your little wings birdie, and then I’m going to leave you out her to die. Does that sound good to you?” She hisses as the ones in his arms start to snap under the pressure. She lets go of his now useless arms and gets to her feet. “You know birdie with all that screaming your pretty little voice has gotten a bit husky, pity it didn’t happen sooner, makes you sound dead sexy,” she says with a wry smile.

David places the blocks onto the floor before Harris and smiles. “Show me,” he says.

“What, with these?” Harris says as he tightens his eyes and taps his forehead with fingers as if playing a piano.

“No, I put them there for shits and giggles,” he says, the sarcasm dripping off his every word. “Of course I want you to use the blocks! They’re the perfect material to show exactly what you saw!”

“What I saw? What the fucks that supposed to actually mean? Are you completely removing yourself from the equation, because I seem to remember you standing beside me while it was all taking place!” Harris erupts with agitation, flinging the blocks across the room.

David smiles nervously, his bottom lip trembles like an idling dragster before the green light bursts to life. “Don’t do this now,” he hisses through clenched teeth in a low tone, glancing quickly at the mirror that takes up the complete left has wall. “Every move you make from this point in will decide the next. If you want any of what you’ve said, any of what we’ve seen be believed you need to show no fear and just do what I ask.”

Harris looks down at the blocks, across to the mirror and then up at David. “I’m not trying to be difficult, but there’s no way in hell that I’m going to be able to build a fucking picture that will explain the shit WE saw out there with those FUCKING BLOCKS!”

“Can’t you at least try?” David hisses through clenched teeth once more.

Harris looks down at the block again and let’s out a frustrated bellow of air, then folds himself down onto the floor and begins placing the blocks on top of each other. Several minutes pass as Harris builds the blocks into several different structures, before pulling them down and starting again, mumbling incoherent words to him self as he does. Finally, after what can only be assumed was hours, not the few minutes that actually passed, Harris stands proudly to him feet. Sweat drips from his brow, and he lets out an exhausted breath of exhilaration as he looks over to David with a smile upon his face, unfortunately David does not seem to share his positivity.

“What the fuck is that supposed to be?” David growls as he grabs Harris by the arm and drags him close. “You’re making me look like a fool!”

“I don’t get you,” Harris says as he pulls himself free of David’s grasp. “You wanted me to use the blocks to build some sort of fucking abstract mural, to explain what we saw and that’s what I’ve done. If it’s not what you want, why don’t you do better!”

“Because I’m not the fucking one making the report am I!”

“Neither am I!”

David stares at Harris for a few moments before he turns to the large mirror, his face twisted with confusion. “I was told Harris had made a report, and he’s telling me now that he hasn’t. What the fucks going on?”

They stand there in silence for a few moments before David rushes to the door, only to find it locked. He spins back to the mirror, his eyes wide with rage. “WHAT THE FUCKS GOING ON!” He yells as he pulls his revolver free aiming it at the mirror, and fires. The glass shatters in thousands of pieces, revealing an empty room. Suddenly a speaker in the corner of the room crackles as it comes to life.

“Lower the gun David, no one else needs to die tonight,” a voice says.

“No one has di….” David stops mid-sentence as he looks over to Harris, only to be met by an empty lifeless glare. He feels the gun tremble in his hands as the night slowly come back to him bit by bit, like building block being put in place.

“Say it again?” He asks with a bemused smile upon his face.

“Say what again?”

“It, what you just said!”

“Which part?”

“Fuck it, why not say it all again, from the start.”

“What stupid fucking game are you playing Smoltdon? You heard everything I just said, as did everyone else. So if you’ve got some smart-arsed comment to make you might as well just get it off your chest now, so we can move on.”

“I’m deeply offended by your accusations Mister Edwards. I’ve been nothing but cooperative since you ALL entered my house uninvited, utilised MY resources to help fulfil YOUR ludicrous end of world prophecies with first asking, and now that I’ve asked a simple request you vilify me,” Smoltdon says, furrowing his brow as he does.

Edwards feels all eyes fall upon him and he swallows a mouthful of dry air in a desperate bid to clear his throat before casting his eyes back upon Smoltdon. “I-I-I,” he clears his throat once more, this time feverishly clutching at it as if some sort of invisible hand is tightening its fingers around it. He catches a terrified glance from Clare in the corner of his eye, and finally after what seems an eternity breathes freely once more. He dry reaches, then spits out a mouthful of dry phlegm. The room falls silent as he stands tall once more, “Sorry I-I never, I never meant for that to happen, and..” he looks back over to Smoltdon, “I never any disrespect to you  Daniel. And yes, I agree wholeheartedly that you indeed have been nothing but a excellent host. The help you have provided, and the network you have introduced us to has been a vital part in our war against those who wish to see the world become a hollow shell of what it is. So please, if there is anything you didn’t understand or need me to repeat I will gladly do so,” Edwards says as he gestures towards Smoltdon and smiles awkwardly.

“Are you okay?” Smoltdon asks with a bemused look upon his face once more.

“O-Of, of course I-I am,” Edwards answers as a thick film of sweat breaks out upon his brow. He feels his stomach turn, then like a roller-coaster that’s suddenly come off it’s tracks he empties the contents of his stomach onto the ground before him. The room falls silent while the black goo dances around on the floor before them like a fish out of water, his eyes dart around at the faces of those he holds dear. “DO IT!” He screams as he tightly holds his eyes shut, and the whole world freezes around him.

“Welcome home,” a voice hisses in his ear as an ice cold hand rests on his shoulder.

“D-D-Da……” Edwards feels the fire burn in the back of his skull, and then nothing.

Clare pulls the blade from the back of Edwards skull and turns to face Smoltdon.

“How did you know he was infected?”

His face drains of its colour, and his cheeks go bright red, “I-I-I, I’d love to take credit for this, I really would. But…”

“But what?” Clare asks.

“He was right about my motives, I didn’t have anything constructive to add to the conversation. All I wanted to do was to stir the pot!”

She looks over at the lifeless corps of her lover, and then over to Smoltdon. “What in the world could you’ve found in such a heartfelt speech to take the piss out of?”

“The word’s tentative Clare, and that infected clown said ten-to-six, how could I not?”

Gerald looks over towards the girl and swallows before turning his attention back to Foster and Ives.

“No!” He says proudly.

Ives laughs hysterically for several seconds, only to have her laughter put to an end by the loud clapping of a gun firing. The girls almost decapitated body drops to the ground like a sack of potatoes as a small trail of smoke draws up from Foster’s revolver.

“Still want to keep it to yourself, or have we convinced you to change your mind?” Foster says with a snigger, all while Gerald’s eyes grow wide with terror.

“Y-Y-You don’t know what y-you’ve done. Y-Y-You don’t know wh…”

“Shut your trap,” Foster says as he shoves the revolvers muzzle into Gerald’s throat. “If you’re not going to tell us what we want to hear, then I don’t want to hear you talking. Do you understand?”

Gerald stares in bewilderment for a few moments before Foster digs the gun into his throat harder. “Okay, Ok…” he doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence once more as Foster drives the butt of the revolver into his head, and he falls to the ground in agony.

“I said I don’t want to hear you talking unless it’s the codes for the account,” he says with a broader grin on this face.

“You’re a fucking maniac,” Ives announces as she slaps Foster on the back.

Gerald puts his hands in the air, keeping his head down at all times. “Can I say something, and then I promise I’ll give you the codes!”

Foster drives a boot into Gerald’s side, sending him back to the ground. “Codes first, and then you can speak all you fucking want.”

“N-Nooo!” Gerald hisses.

“You ain’t the boss anymore fuck-face I am, and I can do this all day!”

“S-S-So ca-ca-can I!”

Foster winds up to deliver another kick just as he feels the barrel of a revolver touch the back of his neck.

“You two might have all the time in the world to measure dicks, but I don’t. So why the fuck don’t you let the little shit say what he needs to say and we can all move on from this.”

Foster stares into her eyes for several seconds before turning back to Gerald. “You’ve got a handful of words to say what you need, then give us the account code and we’ll all go our own way.”

Gerald laughs as he gets to his knees. “Don’t bullshit me, we all know how this ends, and it’s not with me walking off into the sunset while you guys spend my hard earned fortune.”

“You never got your hands dirty once old man, everyone else did the hard shit while you collected the fortune. So don’t give me your fucking sob story! Now, anything else to get off your mother-fucking bleeding sleeve?”

“She’s not dead,” he says softly.

“Who’s not dead?” Foster asks as he raises an eyebrow of interest.

“Her,” he says nudging his head towards the girls lifeless form. Both Foster and Ives look at each other, then over to the girls body and back over to Gerald.

“I must’ve hit you too hard in the head old man, because that girl is far fro….” Foster doesn’t get to finish his words as a boney hand burst through his chest, holding his heart out for all to see. Ives screams in terror as she turns to face the screaming girl realising all too late that they had not trapped Gerald, for he was only bait.

“I don’t think your assessment is keeping in flux with what is actually wrong with the patient doctor, and that is why I am disagreeing with your diagnosis. There’s no ill gotten means, and I have no desire to see you made a fool of. All I want is the poor sod who’s lying on the bed in front of us to get the right treatment they need,” Jessika sternly snaps at Claude quickly, her voice almost void of emotion.

”BULLSHIT!” Claude fires back. “We’ve done this dance our whole lives Norma-Jean, and I’m so FUCKING tired of it! Everything I’ve ever truly done well at, has caused you  nothing but disgust!” He bellows as slithers of saliva explode from his mouth with gusto. “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to just leave me the fuck alone, to allow me one FUCKING THING to call my own. But NO, that’s not in your wheel house now is it Jessika?”

”Don’t you think you’re overreacting a little bit? This isn’t about a toy car or some cheap skirt who tried to get in-between what we have. This is about someone’s life, not you and me!”

”How many times have I told you that there is no me and you! Can’t you just leave me be? Can’t you just go live your own life far from me?” He bellows loudly, throwing his arm around as if he was a wacky waving inflatable tube man.

She allows her eyes to roll before gripping him by the shoulders and pressing firmly down upon them.

”Claude, my sweet. There is nothing I’d rather do than go off into this so called world of yours and love my own life, but I can’t. I tried it for a month back in twenty-eleven if you remember, and it was terrible for us both. The late nights. The travelling. The absolute sadness of it all. No Claude, I think this is our perfect form. The way we have always been, the mortar to the others brick. The typewriter to the others Jessica Fletcher. The Mack to the others Fleetwood. What I’m saying my perfect brother, my soul mate, we are the way we are meant to be.” She says proudly as she releases her grip and smiles a wide grin.

Claude lets out a fatigued sigh and scratches his head, “Maybe you’re right about Mister Watts,” he says softly as he picks up the chat and flicks through it once more.

”That’s the spirit,” she says as she punches him in the arm.

”Cut it out!” Claude says as he gives Jessika a stern look before turning his attention back to Mister Watts. “Sorry, you know how family can be,” he says jokingly.

Mister Watts stares at him bewildering, and then around the empty room before settling his gaze back on Claude.

”Wh-Wh-Who are you a-a-again?” Mister Watts asks nervously.

Claude smiles softly, “Doctor Chambers, I’m the one who’s going to be preforming your heart transplant.”

”H-H-Heart transplant? I’M IN HERE FOR A HERNIA OPERATION, NOT SOME FUCKING HEART TRANSPLANT!”

”We are the doctor’s here Mister Watts, and my sister Jessika has told me you need a heart transplant as soon as possible and lucky for you,” Claude says proudly as he holds up a bloody scalpel in one hand and a mangled human heart in another. “I’ve got a heart ready to go, so there can be no delay. Not when your life depends on it!”

“It’s not like that,” he says as he throws himself onto the table before him. Spit flys from his mouth and showers her face but she only continues to smile.

“You have forfeited any ability to make any alterations, and or claims after the twenty-four hours that passed directly following your signature of 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 agin 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!”

“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 an issue? How was a supposed to know I should check every inch of it over 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 you not only read, but 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 require you to sign box sixty-seven, to ensure you do read and 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 and the little egg shaped pod that he is sitting in slides into an enormous   warehouse filled with thousands upon thousands of similar looking pod. 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 the 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 her hand away.

”I SAID DON’T TOUCH ME UNTIL WE GET RID OF THAT THING!” He bellows, he face drops and she frowns.

”You are still unhappy about it, is it because it’s bigger than yours?” She asks as she pulls her massive penis free from her pants.