Tag: Novel

  • Daily Grind – HELP ME!

    Daily Grind – HELP ME!

    I need to know I’m not the only one who hears it, I need to know I’m not losing my mind.

    Images in my head, blood over everything, their dead eyes, looking at me, I can’t tell if it’s just my imagination or if it’s real, memories lost, now regained.

    I need someone to hear me, I need to validate my existence.

    Am I real?

    Or am I a character within a story, playing out in a world where I never existed, where, my mirror self reigns over all I see, over all I am…

    Or, is it the beast?

    Can anyone hear me?

    Can anyone save my soul?

  • Daily Grind – Unwell

    Daily Grind – Unwell

    I’ve woken up badly today, it seems my night, went longer than I anticipated it would. It was sometime around 7:00am that I finally closed my eyes to rest.

    So much of the night is a blur, but what I do remember, what I can recall, make no sense.

    I tried calling Clare today, after last night bizarre happenings I thought it was important, but it never answered, didn’t even go to a message bank, just rang out, so I’m going to try and arrange another flight, I need answers.

    A word of warning, I might not post anything else today, don’t hold that against me, I’m sure it’s not the first time I’ve let someone down, it won’t be the last.

    I’ll see you on the other side.

    Marty

  • Daily Grind – Do You Want To See?

    Daily Grind – Do You Want To See?

    How do I start this post when all my thoughts are still not sure what they saw, what they heard. When my brain is telling me 1 thing and seconds later something else, I feel like everything I am is being pulled this way, and that way, as I constantly struggle against urges, visions of blood, of darkness, and, of it.

    Then there’s the memories, memories that’re like snowflakes, falling down around me, and I wonder how I could’ve forgotten them, how I could’ve blocked them out, when they’re important memories I should’ve never forgotten.

    The nightmares, the visions, the blood, I’ve had them before, when I wrote its story all those years ago, when I birthed it into this world, when, when they left me.

    When it took them from me.

    I know now why I’ve been able to become more than I was before, see, it needs me, it wants me, it needs us, to finish its story.

    I’m drunk, but maybe for the first time I can see the world for what it is, a lie, and, I see the blood, rivers and rivers of blood.

    Marty

  • Daily Grind – Show Me A Story

    Daily Grind – Show Me A Story

    I don’t want to start off another Daily Grind with another story of something unusual happening, but, its what seems to be the current trend at the moment.

    Little sleep, and nightmares, that seem to be coming more from out there, than from inside my head.

    I tried not to sleep last night, I truly did, after the events of the night before, I dare not sleep, but, eventually things seemed to overtake my senses, and I knew, I was sleeping.

    At first, I noticed small, out of the corner of my eyes movements, mainly in the shadows of the room, but then, after I really became aware of what was happening, everything faded away into nothing, darkness.

    I was trapped, fear held me tightly as I tried to breathe the damp air into my lungs, then, I felt the ground beneath me tremble as it made its way out of the darkness, to stand before me, its size was immense, I could see nothing else but it.

    We stood there, staring into each other, then it spoke to me, it told me of the blood, the darkness, how soon it would be time for me, to play my role in its rebirth.

    I challenged it, I spoke up, I called it my imagination, I called it my fears realized, as things of its kind do not exist in this world, then it marked me, and told me once more, soon my role, for which I was born to play, would be upon us.

    I woke, drenched in sweat, terrified, and was even more, when I looked down at my arm, and saw, it’s mark.

    I don’t know now, if it was a dream or something more, but I have a feeling I’m going to find out sooner, rather than later.

    Marty

  • Daily Grind – Another Visit From My Shadow Friend

    Daily Grind – Another Visit From My Shadow Friend

    Don’t judge me, don’t criticize my choices, what I do, I do because I have to, not because I want to.

    Right now, at this moment I should be aboard my flight, heading towards my past, heading to Sydney, but instead I’m still here, trying to deal with everything that happened last night, or this morning, really depends how you look at time I guess.

    I was visited again last night, by the mysterious shadow that seems to haunt my dreams. It was sometime around 3:00am when I woke and felt its presence, like I have the few nights before. I laid there, watching it, watch me, I swallowed, didn’t make any sudden movements and told it, as calmly as I could to leave. It just stood there, watching, not moving, I repeated the words again, told it to leave, this was my home, and it was not wanted. Then, for the first time since it appeared, it moved. It was a slight movement, nothing grand or revealing, but enough to send my heart racing. Its head moved to the side, it wasn’t a fluid movement either, it was like an animated cartoon, missing several cells, it skipped images, and its head turned to the side, like how a dog looks at you when it’s trying to figure out what you’re saying. I felt the sweat bead on my forehead, my hands were instantly clammy, and I had the urge to piss as my stomach twisted like a washing machine on its final cycle.

    For minutes we both stayed there, locked in this moment, and then I uttered the words again for it to leave, again it showed no indication of understanding me. I stammered, spluttered, and shook with fear as I forced myself up into a sitting position, I yelled this time, told it to leave, said it was unwanted, this was my home and I wanted it out. That’s when it lurched up like a cobra, it’s size grew until it filled the room with its shape and then it came at me, I tried to scream, but it was jamming itself down my throat, that’s when I heard it, 3 words, repeated over and over again, ‘WRITE MY STORY’ it said, then I opened my eyes and the room was empty, I leapt out of bed, alone as the clock flicked over to 6:00am.

    I’m still trying to figure out if it was a dream or if it really happened, a month ago I would’ve told you it was a dream, now, I’m not sure, maybe it’s always been there but I’ve just been too fucked up to notice it until now, shit, I have no idea. Anyway, if that was all it was, I’d say it was a dream, but, there’s a rash, an itchy, dark, pus filled rash, that I think’s spreading up my left leg. I’ll go to my GP tomorrow and have him look at it, maybe it’s always been there too, maybe it’s nothing. I don’t know to be honest, all I know is I can’t leave, I can’t endanger anyone if it’s something more than my imagination playing tricks on me.

    Marty

  • Daily Grind – Nightmare Central

    Daily Grind – Nightmare Central

    Tomorrow morning I fly across the strait, across a quarter of this great land, and face my past, face my mistakes, my greatest mistakes, head on.

    To say that I’m not worried would be lying, I’m petrified, stressed, and on top of that, this house is giving me bad vibes.

    Last night, when I finally managed to settle enough to sleep, I woke, no more than 5 minutes later, only to find myself sitting at the kitchen bench, a cigarette burning in the ashtray before me, a glass of  bourbon, neat, the way I like it, and blood, dripping from the bench, running across the floor, and into the pantry, I started shaking uncontrollably, broke out in a sweat, I-I-I, I downed the glass, I know I shouldn’t’ even, I’d been clean for 5 weeks, and it felt good, but as the liquid ran down my throat, I felt better. I slowly got to my feet and walked over to the pantry door, I need to work out the best way to explain the feeling I had, maybe, it was more a memory, maybe something more.

    I gripped the handle and pulled it open, that’s when I woke up. This time back in bed, it was morning, and obviously, whatever that was, it wasn’t real. That’s before I saw the empty glass and an astray full of cigarette butts, I can tell you, I almost lost my shit, I almost ripped the party door off, my heart was in my mouth, but there was nothing unexpected in their.

    Anyway, I don’t know how to explain any of what happened last night, all I can do is put it down to nerves about tomorrow, my subconscious trying to find an outlet that’s manifesting itself in my dreams, causing me to sleep walk maybe?

    Who knows, all I know is tomorrow his happening, it has to, otherwise, what else is there?

    Marty

  • Daily Grind – Somethings Are What They Are

    Daily Grind – Somethings Are What They Are

    Time and time again, I find myself asking the question, why?

    Valid?

    Of course it is, we ask ourselves why all the time, about every move we make, about every decision, citing it to ourselves at a later date, why the choice had to be made, why we, did what we did.

    When Fear In Fear Magazine closed, and I had no creative output for my stories, I fell in to a holding pattern, one that involved drink, drug, and darkness. I don’t blame Clare for going back home, taking the girls, she tried talking to me, she yelled, clawed, screamed, cried, she did everything she could, but when she realized nothing would work, she left, one day, no warning, well, I guess that’s a lie, she gave me plenty of it.

    But, one day, I woke from my stupor, and, they were gone.

    8 years passed quickly, I binged, lost my soul more than  I care to admit, became this shell, this nothingness, until my words found me again, through this blog.

    But, I lie, I never stopped writing, not really, not inside my head, and somehow, those words, that were inside, found their way out through him.

    I’m losing myself.

    After, for the first time waking up in this world, waking up, and finally, really becoming me, I’m not sure, I am, who I should be, when maybe, I should be…

    It doesn’t matter, I guess its the nerves about this weekend, I want to call, I have a number, I want to say hello, but, is that enough?

    When all the stars fall, when all the dreams end, what is left for us to pick up? What do we truly become? And, who’s eyes do we see through? Yours? Mine? Hers? His? Or, in the end do we all become its slave?

    Marty

  • Daily Grind – The Turmoils Of Packing

    Daily Grind – The Turmoils Of Packing

    I’m nervously anticipating the weekend, it’s been almost 8 years since Clare left with the girls, 8 years of being lost in my own self pity, my own nightmare. I haven’t called, I can’t, if I lose my nerve before I’m even there I’ll never go, so I have to go in blind, and hope it all works out.

    If you were to ask me what I hoped to achieve from the trip, I honestly couldn’t tell you an answer, I mean, I know it’s not going to be instant happy families, and the last 8 years will be forgotten, but maybe it could be a start towards something like that.

    Anyway, I’ve packed and unpacked more times than I can count in the last 2 days, reshuffled everything more than once, played my own game of weakest link and dropped those chosen to the floor, sometimes to pick them back up again.

    But the reason I’m writing today’s post has not so much to do with the packing and unpacking, than it has to do with another bizarre happening in this house.

    14 times this morning I’ve found a copy of Fear In Fear Magazine issue 247 stuffed in my bag, and 14 times I’ve taken it out, throwing it out a window  3 time for it just to reappear back in my bad, 4 times I’ve locked it in a room, jammed it in a drawer once, burnt it 3 times, cut it up once and tore it in two twice, but, each time, it appears in my bag, whole and, for the most part, undamaged. I thought at first I was just losing my marbles, but I’m not, I swear.

    I went down to Harvey Normans to look at digital cameras, I thought maybe if I set up a camera on the magazine I could see what happen. 4 hours I left it there, and for 4 hours nothing happened, but, once I turned the camera off, the magazine somehow ended back up in my bag. So I’ve left it in front of the camera again, this time, I’m just going to leave it running and see what happens, worst case scenario, it won’t happen again.

    Has anyone out there had weird experiences like this, where something just keeps finding its way back no matter how many times you try to stop it?

    Marty

     

  • Daily Grind – Wayward Nights

    Daily Grind – Wayward Nights

    I was planning on doing a video today for the Daily Grind, but this new lap top and me are just not meshing well, so, videos will have to wait until I work it out. I guess it’s a throw back to when I was writing full time for Fear In Fear Magazine as it helped me keep all my ideas in check, and just made to whole creative process work so much easier.

    Anyway, that’s not what I want to talk to you about today, it’s last night that’s on my mind right now. It was about 3, 3:30 when I woke up with the feeling someone was in my room, I of course quickly turned on the light, and found none was there, I put it down to being half asleep and rolled back over.

    Now, that in itself is not really worth mentioning I know, because really, it was nothing, just on its own that is, it’s what happened a little while later that makes it so important.

    After I eventually drifted back off to sleep, 20 or so minutes later, I woke with the same feeling, this time however I didn’t turn the light on straight away, I just laid there, and that’s when I saw it, a figure standing at the foot of my bed, I almost shat myself, but when I turned on the light there was no one there. I searched the house, checked all the doors and windows, nothing was out of place, nothing unlocked, it was just impossible. 

    I don’t know what it was, I don’t know how to explain it, but if things keep happening, I’ll let you know more. Has anyone else had similar experiences?

    Marty

  • Daily Grind – A Blast From The Past

    Daily Grind – A Blast From The Past

    Back when I was really hitting my stride while writing for Fear In Fear Magazine, I was introduced to an artist who had contacted the magazine due to being inspired by a few of my stories, his name was Gareth Wilkinson, we struck up a friendship instantly, and from that point on every story I wrote, he created visual interpretations that accompanied them, even taking cover credits for some of the issues, the last 5 where his best, they actually gave me cold shivers, still do to this day.

    Now I’m guess you’re wondering why I’m telling you this, there must be a reason, right? and of course, you’re correct.

    Earlier when I returned home from my expedition to purchase a new lap top, I didn’t notice at the time, but after losing my patience with this new computer, I mean seriously, Microsoft, the juggernaut that it is, should be able to make an operating system that does what it believes it can, right?

    Anyway, I noticed the flashing light coming from my answering machine while I was in the middle of my fourth fucking mother-fuckers. I honestly can’t tell you the last time I was away from home received a call, with trepidation, I pressed play.

    I was surprised by the voice I instantly recognized as Gareth’s, we hadn’t talked in almost seven years, he tried, but I was so self involved, I just cut him, like the rest of the world, out of my life. He didn’t have much to say, only that he was drawing , painting something, a large piece that spans several canvases, and that he needed to see me, he needed to show me.

    I called him back almost immediately, the conversation was short, but we arranged to met when I was in Sydney, he assured me by the time we sit down, his paintings should be complete. I of course asked what it was, but he just said I need to see it for myself.

    Anyway, it now looks like Saturday is going to be a lot busier than I anticipated, I will, as always, keep you in the loop.

    Marty

  • Daily Grind – Computers Suck

    Daily Grind – Computers Suck

    My lack of human company has created a black void around my life, one that seems to suck many things into it, and, every once in a while, strange things occur around the house. I know, this sounds like the start of a story, but as this seems an outlet for my life at the moment, I thought I’d share it with you all.

    Last night, or more like this morning, I awoke in the lounge room of my home, the lights were on, I was sitting in an upright position on the couch, the laptop on my lap, and, a burning cigarette in my hand. I haven’t smoked in eighteen years, haven’t brought a packet for just as long, but somehow, there it was, in my hand, the filter was wet, and I could taste the vile flavors dancing around in my mouth. I sat there staring at the bloody thing for way too long, trying to piece together what happened last night, I wrote, read, and then went to bed, all this before midnight, but now here I was at 4  in the morning, obviously delving into sins of the past.

    My mind must have wandered far longer than I realized, as I felt a sharp pain, my fingers screamed at me, and I knew then and there the cigarette had burnt down to the filter, and now was licking my fingers with it hot tongue. I jumped up, my lap top launched off my lap, and crashed to the ground, bloody thing soaked, the screen flickered, rolled, fizzed and then turned to black, not before displaying something stranger than me waking up with a cigarette hand, it was a twisted, distorted face, he was talking, screaming, no sounds came from the laptop unfortunately, and then it was gone.

    The computer is toast, hopefully the hard drive can be saved, the guy who sold me this over expensive typewriter at JB Hi-Fi asked me about whether I had a one drive account or something called an eye cloud, neither I’ve heard of, so I’m assuming not. He said if I was lucky maybe someone could help me out, but after he took my money he didn’t care.  I’ll let you know how I go, although I need to mention this new windows is totally ridiculous, I much prefer XP.

    Marty

  • Daily Grind – Memories Of The Past

    Daily Grind – Memories Of The Past

    I remember the day we were told Fear In Fear Magazine was mo more, I was sitting in a Sydney coffee shop with good friend and fellow writer Sam Melton. We were both more than surprised, we were shattered. Three days later, after a phone conversation I still to this day can’t remember, Sam took his own life, I recall thinking that lucky bastard, how did he have the gall to do such a thing when I was unable to even place a blunt knife against my wrists without chickening out.

    After Clare, my wife, had left with the girls, I was alone, looking back, I don’t blame her for leaving, Fear In Fear Magazine had some sort of hold on me, and all the spare time I had was devoted to writing new exciting stories for each issue. During that time Sam became the closet thing I had to family, so when he decided things were bad enough that he wanted out, he bailed, which, to be honest was Sam through and through. After Sam’s funeral I tried to reestablish some sort of communication between myself and Clare, but she never returned any of my calls, and try as I might, I could never track her, or the girls down.

    To be honest here with you today, I never really tried, I wanted to, really I did, but I was so beat up, so down, so depressed, I couldn’t face life, I wouldn’t face another disappointment. So I hid in darkness, and that’s where I stayed until I received a call from an old colleague who worked on Fear In Fear Magazine with me, and encouraged me too look up this blog you now read, fuck, up until that day I didn’t even know what a blog fucking meant, now of course I do.

    Why am I telling you all this, I don’t know, maybe because this morning, I picked up the phone and arranged to fly back to Sydney, as an old friend who is long gone supplied me with an address, and tomorrow, I will face my past. You see, some people concentrate on tomorrow, others on today, I’ve been concentrating on things that mean nothing, when I need to fix yesterday, I need to make amend for the lives I’ve lost being part of, for our future is always lost somewhere in our past.

    Marty

  • Daily Grind – Showcasing Your Star

    Daily Grind – Showcasing Your Star

    Yesterday I talked about dreams, and how they inspire the stories that slip out of ones mind and onto the paper in front of you.

    Today, I want to touch a little on how another’s work can inspire. I know I mentioned fan fiction the other day, but this is deeper than mer fan fiction, this has to do with one of the surprising things I’ve found since going over the different ways Matthew presented my work to you, is that of the 50 word stories, and how they insipired some people to expand upon the stories themselves.

    It’s humbling to think words I wrote somehow inspired others to build a world separate from where the original story dwelled in, and, in some instances, the stories were far superior than the original the words were taken from.

    That being said, I’d love to see others try their hands at reshaping each of the 50 word stories, so if over the course of the next few weeks, as I write new original stories that utilize the original 50 word stories, you find a story that inspires you to write, please write, write your bloody arse off, then, let me know, because I’d love to showcase your story on the blog.

    Marty

  • Daily Grind – Dreams

    Daily Grind – Dreams

    Do your dreams have a way of weaving  their way into your stories?

    It’s a silly question I know, as an author I know a lot of my dreams turn up in some form in my stories, In fact some even push through so powerfully that the dreams force the story to be created.

    Where am I going with this one, everywhere really. To be even more precise, I have a question, can a simple idea, a simple dream, spawn more than just a story, can it spawn a whole world into existence?

    I know many of you are shaking your head with disagreement, but how many times has your mind run wild when reading a story, created the world inside your head, inspired you to, as some do, write fan fiction?

    For name, I know in the early days being heavily influenced by comics, the world they created, living, breathing worlds that spanned well across this small universe.

    Did something inspire you to pick up the pen, was it a dream, or was it someone else’s words written on a page that inspired you?

    I’d love to know what makes you, you.

    Marty

     

  • Daily Grind – Things Will Change

    Daily Grind – Things Will Change

    Hello dear readers, Marty here, it’s been almost 24 hours since I took control of the blog, and as you can see, I have changed the name, but kept the posts running as they were when Matthew had control.

    I know you’re asking why, I myself asked that same question, but the reason is a simple one. I want to prove not only to myself, but to you all that everything he stole, everything he posted on here, was mine.

    The easiest way for me to do that, is to continue his sordid stories in the same pathetic structure he has already in place. Over time, I’ll change it to suit my needs, things like Wrapped In Words would work better for me as Whispers, but for now it’ll stay as it is, with a new coat of pain of course.

    I’ll revert back to the days, as I dislike the blah blah until the end title and feel the day number give each post strength, and it’ll help new readers realize how long the blog has been going for.

    The serials will return with more updated stories, the last Bad Day story that was posted here, I actually wrote 7 years ago and have improved since then. So you can look froward to more stories of Maxwell Sevenson, although the way he posted them leads some thought into what he was thinking. I say this because the first few he posted were written 3 years ago, so as you can see there was no structure in place for what he was doing, but I’ll fix that.

    Dark Stars, as convoluted as it became when I wrote it 12 years ago, I never returned to finish the story, maybe now that will change.

    The YouChallenge is a joke, he partnered with another blogger and they deceived you, picking themes from some of my already written stories and making it look like they had been written for the supposed challenges. I’ll show them and you how challenges should be handled by meeting all previous challenges with a NEW, ORIGINAL STORY!

    That brings me to the 50 word stories, these things are another slight of hand joke, pieces pulled from my stories, made to look like they were written first and then written into an expanded story. What trash, he lied again, so to show you all how better I am than he was, I’ll also take each of the former 50 word stories, and expand them into NEW, ORIGINAL STORIES!

    There is more I plan to do, but the last thing I want to mention for today, is my prized work. The one that I’ve held most dear to my heart, my Roundhead. I can’t believe what he did to it, massacred so much of it, cutting pieces here and there to make it fit, then to have the gall to replace the writer with ME? I take it as some deluded, idiotic way of trying to wipe me from existence, to make me seem like the crazy one, but who is the crazy one now?

    Who has all the power and who has none?

    Marty

  • Lies Of A Broken World – Chapter Six – Act IV

    Lies Of A Broken World – Chapter Six – Act IV

    Gary and Davey get out of their cruiser and look at the mess in front of them.

    “So tell me again why we’re here instead of being back at the office filling out reports for Masters?” Davey asks.

    “Like I said, Danny called it in, apparently ERU’s were attending the scene when they discovered the bodies.”

    “And these bodies were dead before the accident?”

    “That’s why Danny called us in,” Gary replies as they make their way over to a large tent, once inside they see Danny and Sarah working over seven bodies laid out on tarpaulins. Danny looks up as they walk in.

    “Welcome to our kingdom,” Danny says.

    “Looks like a bad day for it,” Gary replies.

    “Only for these loyal subjects, and you two, by the looks of it.”

    “Don’t get me started, so what the fuck do we have?”

    “What we have is something very interesting indeed,” Danny says. “Before you are the bodies of seven young men, who all look as though they’ve been beaten to death, but that’s not interesting enough right? I’m glad you asked that question, these guys didn’t just get a beating, they also handed it out as well. From what we can tell from the preliminary results, these men, all of them, were fighters, they all show calluses on their knuckles and aged breaks in their hands. If I were to give you a speculative guess on their occupations bases on only what I’ve seen, it would be that they were all bare knuckle fighters.”

    “All of them?”

    “That would be my assumption, this one over here is a young man by the name of Kyle Mendeze, now if you don’t know who Mister Mendeze wa…”

    “He was an up and coming amateur boxer, pretty cluey, knew how to move.” Davey interrupts and both Gary and Danny look at him in surprise. “What? A man can’t have a hobby? I would’ve though you would’ve known who he was, considering this was your bread and butter back in the early days.”

    “I don’t find much time to indulge anymore, not how I’d like anyway.” Gary says.

    “Fuck Gary, I remember you had the meanest right hook I’d ever witnessed, it’s a pity you got old.”

    “It’s still there, waiting,” Gary says. “But now that we’ve had this awesome little walk down memory lane, can I direct the conversation back to the bodies, and in doing that I want to ask everyone a question. What we’re talking about, these kids and the fighting they’re doing, does it sound like these boys could’ve been involved in The Arena?”

    “It’s what I first thought as well, but I haven’t said it out loud until now.” Danny says.

    “The Arena, isn’t it just all a myth?” Davey says. “I mean, a fighting arena that takes place downtown where men battle to the death, all old and poetic shit, it just seems too glorified and glossy.”

    “Look at the bodies and tell me that maybe it’s not a possibility?” Gary says.

    “Hey, I’m not saying it’s not possible, I’m just saying it sounds insane.”

    “Do we have names and particulars on all of them?”

    “They’ve been updated in the case log, not a lot to read about sadly, nothing of any substance anyway. We also have the info for the driver, Milo Tankan, a small time junky who apparently was working clean up, but got too high and made the mess you see,” Danny replies.

    “Okay, we’ll see if we can shake a few trees and get a myth or two to fall out,” Gary says as he exits the tent and pulls out his phone, quickly dialling a number, Andrew Fontaine answers a few moments later.

    “He calls, and I answer, what can I do for you?” Fontaine says.

    “It’s what I can do for you, well not really, but I’ve got a challenge for you.”

    “You know just what to say at the right time, what are you after?”

    “The Arena.”

    “The Arena? Gary for fuck sake it’s like a myth downtown, and that’s all it is, there’s never been any proof that it actually exists and there never will be because it’s a myth.”

    “Well, I’ve got seven bodies here that might say differently.”

    “Seven bodies might also tell you shit, The Arena is a ghost,” Fontaine replies. “But don’t let that stop you from telling me about the bodies?”

    “Early this morning a van being driven by a junkie on some heavy shit caused a massive fuck me pile up, there were no survivors from any of the vehicles. When the ERU’s were able to get access they discovered the bodies in the back of the van and contacted us straight away. We’ve got nothing on any of these guys, all of them had steady jobs, no partners, nothing in common, only that fact that they’re all meat heads. So far we’ve turned up shit about where they train or anything else for that matter.”

    “So you were hoping maybe I might be able to find some info?”

    “Exactly, I’ve got shit Stapleton expects me to get done, so I won’t get any time on this case until the morning, but if you can do some ground work for me, it might help me start in the middle instead of the beginning.”

    “Send me everything you’ve got and I’ll see what I can come up with.”

    “I’ll shoot them over to you once I disconnect.”

    “Okay, I’ll buzz you back once I get something,” Fontaine says as he hangs up.

     

    #

     

    Her eyes open and she takes a large mouthful of air, and then screams.

    “Calm yourself child, all will be okay soon.”

    “Where the fuck am I?” she asks frantically, noticing her arms and legs are strapped down to the metal table, “What the fuck is going on?”

    “All that will be explain in great detail, but for now, you need to sleep some more my dear, we have many things to do together, you and I,” she feels something pierce her neck and then everything beings to spin uncontrollably into nothingness and unconsciousness.

     

    #

     

    Gary sits at his desk going over the paperwork for the Masters case, trying to make sure he captures all the information he can before it slips away into the recesses of his mind. But once again he finds himself distracted by the information on the bodies that were discovered earlier today in the van, and the desire to dig in and start trying to find the needle in the haystack, but he is pulled back to reality by an incoming call from Andrew Fontaine.

    “Fontaine, I hope you’ve got something we can use?”

    “Don’t I always, four of your boys trained at a Gym called Sabre, owned by, from what I can understand, a local legend by the name of Roland Biggs, apparently Biggs has some pretty high up friends, lots of back scratching goes on from what I can see with his accounts. I can’t tell you why he’s a legend though, information on him tells me he was a small time amateur fighter who was hailed as the next great champion, and then just disappeared off the radar and into obscurity. But all his personal accounts, traceable and non-traceable, tells me he’s got a shit load of credit value. Way more, than some never have been, should, in my opinion.”

    “You think he’s involved somewhere in something dirty, maybe this elusive Arena?”

    “He has all the signs, not necessarily The Arena, but he has signs of being dirty that’s for sure.”

    “But no real proof?”

    “Nothing, even Ghost couldn’t turn up anything bad in Biggs accounts.”

    “Which means he’s dirty.”

    “That’s what it typically means, no one is that clean.”

    “Well, I guess that means I should pay this Biggs a visit.”

    “Can you swing by my place first? Biggs isn’t going anywhere, and there’s someone I want you to meet, he could be of some help.”

    “Okay, give me half an hour.”

    “Sure, you know where I’ll be,” Fontaine says as Gary hangs up the phone and stares at the photos of the bodies.

    “Hey, Jackson, I didn’t deliberately listen in on your phone conversation, but did I hear you say the name, Roland Biggs?” A voice asks, Gary turns and faces Detective Sergeant Rick Parker, who sits a few desks away from him.

    “You know the name?”

    “Only from what I hear from my sources, why are you poking around about him anyway?”

    “Those bodies that were discovered earlier, they could be linked to an underground fighting organization that Biggs might be involved in.”

    “I’d keep that assumption to myself if I was you, Biggs is not the sort of guy you go around making accusations about, without proof, and it never ends well even if you do have it.”

    “You know this from your sources as well?” Gary says. “If he’s involved he’ll go down for it.”

    “Just saying, but you do what you have to do, just thought I’d give you a friendly warning, one that I’d listen to if I was you.”

    “It’s noted Parker, and ignored.”

    “Hey it’s your call, but don’t come knocking on my door when Divisional comes down on you for poking your nose into someone you shouldn’t be.”

    “You think he’s involved with someone in Divisional?”

    “I don’t think, I know,” Parker replies. “As I said, if you go after Biggs, prepare for a storm.”

     

    END OF CHAPTER SIX

  • Lies Of A Broken World – Chapter Six – Act III

    Lies Of A Broken World – Chapter Six – Act III

    Gary and Davey’s cruiser comes to a stop outside a large warehouse, they look at each other and back at the warehouse.

    “This looks exactly like the last two places,” Davey says.

    “We’ve got to check them all out, the sooner we locate Masters the better off everyone will be,” Gary says as he gets out of the cruiser, Davey follows him as they make their way into the warehouse. “Let keep it simple, just like last time, keep your commline open and check in regularly,” Davey nods his head to show he understands, and they both draw their blasters and head off in separate directions, slowly making their way through the building, checking each and every room for any signs of life.

    “South section clean,” Davey says over the commline.

    “I’ve got a few rooms left on my side,” Gary replies as he notices movement down the end of the corridor. “I’ve got movement!” Gary yells as he runs towards the location, a large cloaked figure leaps from out of the doorway and lands on Gary sending him sprawling to the ground.

    “What are you doing in my web said the spider to the fly?” the figure says as he pins Gary to the ground, Gary forces his feet up between them and drives the figure off him and scrambles to his feet, he spins around to emptiness.

    “I’m pretty sure I just made contact with Masters,” Gary says.

    “Don’t do anything stupid until I get there, I’ve called it in, so we should have some sort of back up soon,” Davey yells as he run towards Gary’s location.

    “I’ll try, but it might be out of my control,” Gary replies as the figure appears again from behind Gary and smashes him to the ground, and pulls him back to his feet, slamming him against the wall.

    “How do you know my name? Who are you?” Masters asks.

    “Detective Inspector Jackson, District-Three PD, and you’re fucked Masters!” Gary says. “We know you’re the fucker sending these people batshit crazy with that cocktail you’ve mixed up. Your little reign of insanity is over Masters, it would be a smart move for you to just come quietly, but if you don’t want to, that’s fine by me as well, because I’ve got a lot of tickets your arse has to pay.”

    “That’s not going to happen,” Masters says. “Why don’t you taste my sweets, they are to die for.” He sprays Gary in the face with a chemical solution, and Gary tears at his face as he feels his eyes burn. “The feeling will pass in a few moments, and then together, we will burn this world down, so you can make your move forward, and grab those dreams and removed all those who oppose you in this world.”

    Gary dives towards him and lets loose with a powerful right hook, that sends Masters crashing to the ground, but it only takes a second for him to be on his feet again.

    “You’ve obviously been dipping into your candy jar.”

    “Why are you still opposing me? I am the only voice you should hear now.”

    “Maybe you’re just not my type,” Gary says as he charges forwards and tackles Masters to the ground, but he’s quickly thrown to the side and Masters lets out a piercing, high pitched scream.

     

    #

     

    The van powers down the road at speeds well above the limit, and the hapless driver should be well aware of the dangers that could result from drawing undue attention to himself, but the drugs in his system right now sedate that care and the care of the dangers he could face if he was found with the van’s cargo. But for him that fear will never be a burden, as he is killed instantly as the van slams into the oncoming cars.

     

    #

     

    “You should be mine, why are you not?” Masters says as he pins Gary to the ground, Davey crashes through the door and fires his blaster repeatedly into Masters, sending him crashing to the ground. Almost instantly Masters springs back to his feet and turns, screaming at Davey, Gary takes the opportunity of the distraction and lunges up and drives a hard-light blade up into his chest, he lets out another cry, this one of pain, and backhands Gary across the room.

    “You have heard my cry, you have tasted my sweets, why are you not mine?” he says, Gary pulls himself to his feet and spits out a mouthful of blood.

    “Because I’m already living my fucking dream life,” Gary says as he lays a powerful right and then a left across Masters’ face sending him to the ground in a heap, Davey tosses Gary his blaster and Gary places it to Masters’ head.

    “It’s impossible h…” it’s then Masters notices the plugs in Gary’s ears and it answers his question.

    “Let’s see if you’re as tough as your monsters,” Gary says as he fires several shots from his blaster at point blank range, removing Masters’ head. Gary falls to his knees and drops the blaster to the ground and Davey is quickly to his side.

    “Are you ok?”

    “I feel like shit, you can tell Jones his little cocktail worked a treat, although I’m pretty sure I’m going to need the bathroom real soon.”

    “Don’t worry big guy the mediVan will be here in a few minutes,” Davey says as he sits next to his partner. “Can I ask you something?”

    “What?”

    “Do you ever get sick of this?”

    “Sick of what?”

    “Sick of this, sick of fighting against a system that’s supposed to help us, a system where our own are dirtier than the criminals we’re trying to put away.”

    “A long time ago, I hate to say this, but you become a little blind to it, you just do the best you can and make sure every fucker who comes before you pays their price.”

    “Like Masters here.”

    “That piece of shit didn’t deserve ice.”

    “And others do?”

    Gary looks at Davey a little concerned, but relaxes his look after a few tense moments, “Everyone deserves their time of judgment, sometimes it’s your decision and other times you leave it up to those upstairs.”

    “When do you know which way to go?”

    “When you have your blaster in your hand and they’re sitting at your feet, instinct will make the decision for you. If they live to face the judgment uptown, then so be it.”

     

    END OF ACT III

     

  • Lies Of A Broken World – Chapter Six – Act II

    Lies Of A Broken World – Chapter Six – Act II

    “Tell me you’ve got something?” Gary says as he walks into the labs department of District-Three.

    “I’ve got a couple of things,” Jones says. “The card you recovered from Anna Withers gave us two massive pieces of the puzzle, firstly we recovered a partial print from the card that is not Miss Withers’, I’m running it through every database we have access to, so far we’ve got thirty-five partial matches, so we’re just reconfiguring the search to see if we can bring the list down to a manageable number. Secondly, the card contained the usual chemicals all the other cards have, but we found a small amount of MDR-Thirty-Seven on this one.”

    “You’re fucking kidding me? MDR-Thirty-Seven’s a weapon grade chemical, why the fuck haven’t we picked this up earlier?”

    “I tell you why, the chemicals when combined create a sort of nuclear cocktail, the MDR-Thirty-Seven is the first chemical to be absorbed into the skin, then the others. So it stands to reason that we would not pick it up as we’ve been testing the blood for chemicals, but because this is absorbed into the skin and spreads throughout the flesh, it doesn’t show up on blood tests,” Jones says. “With that in mind I went back and ran a check on all the other bodies, and they all came back positive. In fact, Mores readings were off the charts, as was Gillings, the woman whose head you caved in earlier this morning.”

    “Anna referred to this Doctor Hide as a him, so we know our suspect is male, she said he was persuasive and that his words touched her deeply, could there be some connection to this and the chemicals on the card as well?”

    “I’ve been thinking about that since you mentioned it earlier, three of the twelve drugs in the cocktail have been used in the past to assist with hypnotherapy treatment, regressing patients back to distressing or traumatic events, in a way to try and help them move past it. Maybe he’s using the drugs to assist him in maintaining some sort of control over the victims through subliminal messages he gives them when they touch the card and take a hit of the cocktail?”

    “How the fuck would he be doing that?”

    “Any number of ways, voice manipulation would be the most obvious way, two of the chemicals used in the cocktail alter the inner ears equilibrium,” Jones replies. “He would possibly be using some sort of synthesiser that would be altering his voice to such a level his words would be coming through your brain like you were the one thinking it rather than hearing it.”

    “What can we do to combat any of this?”

    “So far we know that prolonged exposure leads to terminal meltdown, but as we found out with our infected lab tech, Simmons, if we can get to the effected person sooner, rather than later, we can in a way control the chemicals effects on the body and in fact reverse those effects. Plus I also have a theory that if I work with the sirum that we’ve used on Simmons we might even be able to possibly work on some sort of vaccine, it would be just getting the dosage of the initial cocktail correct so we can counter balance it. But it would have to be something that could be administered every few hours or so as the body reguarly cleans itself of toxins, and there’s always a slight chance a vaccine could cause other issues as well.”

    “How long would it take for you to come up with this vaccine?”

    “A few hours maybe, we already have a good working base.”

    “As soon as you have something let me know,” Gary says. “Can I have the list of the potential suspects and a copy of the partial? I’ll pass it on to a few outside sources to see if they can help bring the list down.”

    “I’ll pass the information to your case file,” Jones replies. “If we get anything workable with this vaccine, I’ll contact you straight away.”

     

    #

     

    Deep below in the depths of downtown, where the old city meets the new, as the past and the present clash in a blend of what has been and what is, reveals another horror that has been in existence for countless years, The Arena. Rumours have floated around about the underground fighting syndicate that moves throughout the underbelly of the city, never staying too long in one place and never being found, making it a myth more than a reality for many of the city’s residents, if they only knew that this myth was true, would they be more careful where they venture?

    The man hits the ground with a thud, his face busted open, slowly he tries to get to his feet but only manages to get to his knees, the crowd cheers with excitement as he is dealt a powerful right to the head that sends him crashing to the ground again, he convulses for a few moments and then goes silent and still, the crowd gets louder as Roland Biggs celebrates another win in his arena.

    “Another challenger lays defeated at the feet of our champion Roland Biggs, with this victory Roland now stands at an outstanding one thousand and three wins and zero losses, who out there dares take the challenge, who thinks they can take the prize and defeat the undefeatable, is it you and more importantly will you have the choice to refuse?” a voice says over the PA system.

    “NO!” the crowd screams back as the body of the man is dragged out of the arena.

     

    #

     

    Gary’s phone rings and he quickly answers it, Andrew Fontaine appears on the other end.

    “I got a hit on one of your boys.”

    “You’re fucking kidding me?” Gary says. “We’ve only managed to bring the list down to 20 how the fuck can you have it down to one?”

    “I’ve got sources you guys don’t have.”

    “Ghost, I presume?”

    “If you need something deep and dark on someone, and if it exists, Ghost will find it.”

    “So, who are we looking at?”

    “Nathaniel Masters.”

    “Masters? He was removed from our list,” Gary says as he pulls his files up. “He didn’t fit any of the criteria matches we were after, no history in chemistry and from what his files say he’s been in New London for the past three years.”

    “No fucking way has he ever been in New London, the fucker has never left Delta City,” Fontaine says. “I can also tell you he’s got shitloads of experience in chemistry as well. For fifteen years he was a geochemist team leader at Tiracom, his department was primarily concerned with testing and developing a large array of drugs to be utilised in mind reconditioning. But to answer why he was removed from your list would be because someone within Divisional wants him left off the list, I’ll point the finger at Franklin Rodgers, there was a lot of contact between the two eight months ago and last month a shit load of credits moved into his account, coincidently the same day all of the Districts files on Masters disappeared from the system, of course, nothing is really ever gone when The Ghost gets involved.”

    “Can you send me all the data you have?”

    “I’ll drop it in your box, along with known locations where Masters could be.”

    “You just saved us a large fucking waste of time.”

    “Always here to help, you need an extra body?”

    “No, we’ve got it covered, I’ll talk soon,” Gary says as he hangs up and turns to Davey, who obviously overheard the whole conversation, no words are said between the two as they head out of the office and jump into their cruiser.

    “You’re sure we keep it between us?”

    “You heard Fontaine, this guy has Divisional protecting him, and Rodgers would’ve never worked alone. He is a subpar Detective, a pretty boy sucking and fucking the bigger fish to keep afloat. If we want a chance to stop him it’s now, and Jones seemed pretty happy with the results from his tests for the vaccine, and we’ve got a good few hours before this dosage runs through our systems, so I say we just run with it while we have a chance without involving anyone else.”

    “You make way too much sense sometimes, it scares me.”

    “Shut the fuck up and tell me where we’re going first?”

     

    END OF ACT II

     

  • Lies Of A Broken World – Chapter Six – Act I

    Lies Of A Broken World – Chapter Six – Act I

    Gary slams a fist into the wall and lets out a cry of frustration, sprawled out on the ground before him lays the body of a woman, a greenish ooze flows from what is left of her head.

    “Are you okay?” Davey asks nursing a dislocated shoulder, his face bruised and bloody.

    “I’d be a lot fucking better if we could find this bastard, all we’ve got out of this is the same fucking scenario and no leads except the fucking card we keep finding on the victims and proxamine-twelve,” Gary says as he hobbles towards the doorway, sirens can be heard closing in towards them. “We’ve got bodies building up, people wiping out their families and anyone else they’ve ever associated with and all we can do is sit on our arse and react after the scenario restarts. We need to get in at the beginning, before our victim changes, then maybe we would have a chance at stopping this fuck.”

    “How the fuck are we supposed to do that?” Davey says as cruisers pull up in front of them as well as several mediVan’s and, of course, the media not far behind. Gary looks at Davey who reads his mind immediately, “Don’t!”

    “Use the leeches, make them do the work for you,” Gary says as he storms off, past the incoming officers and paramedics and straight towards Mandy Holmes, who is in the process of setting up for her report. “Mandy, do you want the interview of your career?” He calls out.

    “Are you fucking serious?”

    “Roll your cameras now, because I’m about to make your day.”

    Mandy quickly instructs her cameraman to begin recording, “This is Mandy Holmes live from the latest….” Gary pushes her to the side and stares down the barrel of the camera.

    “My name is Detective Inspector Gary Jackson, from District-Three, tonight we, I, need your help to stop this shit. I’m going to put it as basic as I can so you will all understand. If you, or anyone you know is approached by someone offering a job and the chance to live out all your dreams, I urge you to contact Delta District-Three straight away,” Gary says. “At this very moment, out there in the city, there’s a creature preying on the lost and unfulfilled citizens of Delta City. This thing is out there offering people the world for a price, and the price as we have found out is their sanity. So far we know a drug is triggering these psychotic breaks and it is somehow administered initially through a card that looks on the surface like a normal business card, but this card is lethal. I urge anyone who comes across one of these card to avoid touching it if you can and contact us immediately. Over the course of our investigation we’ve already lost one of our forensic investigators to the effects of this card, and it’s not pretty. This person, and I use the word person loosely, has already infected nine victims with this designer drug, and these nine victims have killed to date, one hundred and twenty-five innocent people in total, people who love them, people who were their flesh and blood, their family. I urge you to make contact before it’s too late, don’t let this piece of shit destroy your life and the lives of your loved ones as well.”

    With that Gary walks back to awaiting paramedics. Mandy turns back to the camera, and for a few moments says nothing as she tries to collect her thoughts.

    “You heard it here first, Delta District-Three is reaching out to you the viewer to help bring this latest threat to an end, once we have more you will hear it here first, back to you Tom.”

     

    #

     

    Gary and Davey walk into District-Three’s offices to a standing ovation, “For fuck sake, cut it out,” Gary says, the next person he lays eyes on is Superintendent Stapleton.

    “You two, get the fuck in my office now!” Gary and Davey follow him into his office and quickly close the door. “Would one of you please for the love of fucking god explain to me which one of you idiots had the stupid idea of passing on information to the press about your current fucking case? And yes it is a trick fucking question.”

    “Davey had no idea what I was doing sir, it was all me.”

    “That’s not true sir, I knew what he was doing, and I agreed with it.”

    “For fuck sake, do you know how much damage you’ve caused? Commissioner Gleeson called me personally and told me to pull my men in line or he will find someone who will,” Stapleton says. “I’m not going to let two fucking cowboys derail my career, so next time you get a stupid fucking idea like that Jackson, you treat it as such and ignore it.”

    “Of course sir, I’ll make sure any stupid ideas in the future are ignored.”

    “Don’t be a smart arse, just get this god damned case solved and do what the city pays you to do instead of making me look like a fucking dick. Now get out of here before I lose my shit any more than I already have!” They make their way out of the office and to their desks, where a young girl waits.

    “Can I help you?” Gary asks.

    “I saw you on the news,” she says as she scratches her arm nervously.

    “A lot of people did, we’ve received thousands of phone calls so far. If there’s anything you feel you need to pass on to us about the case, you can give your information at the front desk.”

    “I’ve seen him, the guy you’re after, he calls himself Doctor Hide.”

    “Doctor Hide?”

    “That’s what he calls himself, he approached me last night and gave me a big speech about helping me free myself from my weights and giving me a new future, he was really fucking persuasive, I mean really persuasive.”

    “Did he give you a card?”

    “I brought it in,” she says as she places a card on Gary’s desk.

    “Davey, get Jones up here now!” Gary says and turns his attention back to the girl, blood runs down her arm, as she tears at the open wound. “Go easy there Miss,” He says as he grabs a tissue from the desk and hands it to her, she presses it against her arm.

    “It’s intoxicating, the feel of it all you know, I just want to kill everyone, free myself, his words really touched me,” she says looking at the card the entire time, her hand slowly reaches for the card, but Gary grabs her arm tightly.

    “I think you should leave the card there,” he says, she forces her hand free and grabs the card.

    “Don’t you tell me what to do, I’m sick of everyone telling me what to do!” She yells, the look in her eyes is of pure hate, a look Gary has become used to over the last week.

    “It’s okay, you hold on to it, but why don’t you sit down while we get someone to take down your details and I’ll have a doc take a look at your arm, it seems like a nasty laceration,” she slowly takes a seat, her eyes transfixed on Gary, burning his flesh almost.

    “I saw you on the news, I saw you trying to take my dream away, and I knew I had to kill you as well as everyone else,” she says as she pulls a blade and dives at Gary, two shots rip into the side of her head and sends her lifeless body crashing to the ground, Davey stands a few feet away, his blaster still trained on the girl.

    “You okay?”

    “I had it under control.”

    “It sure looked like you did,” Davey says as he lowers his blaster.

     

    END OF ACT I

     

  • Lies Of A Broken World – Chapter Five – Act IV

    Lies Of A Broken World – Chapter Five – Act IV

    Gary enters ‘Dave’s Wonderland Holosuite’ and walks up to the counter where a young girl is standing, she greets him with a smile.

    “Hi, is there anything I can help you with?” she asks.

    “Yeah I hope so, I’m Detective Inspector Gary Jackson with District-Three,” Gary replies, showing his badge. “I was wondering if you can help me out with a problem I am having, I have these two holosim’s and was wondering if you worked last night or you can put me in touch with whoever did.”

    “Normally we’re not allowed to give out information on any of our customers or fellow staff members, but I guess you would be an exception.”

    “That would be great,” Gary replies as he looks out the window of the shop as a car smashes through it and into the shop, sending Gary crashing into the counter. He scrambles to his feet quickly a lets out a groan of frustration, he turns to the girl behind the counter. “Are you okay?”

    “I think so,” she replies.

    “Get out of here and keep on running,” Gary says as he pulls his blaster out of its holster.

    “I wouldn’t do that if I were you?” a voice says, Gary turns to see a man standing next to the wreckage of the car. “Sorry I’m late for my shift, I had things to do, people to kill, you know how it is,” Maddox says with a smile.

    “I don’t give a fuck what you do right now as long as you don’t fucking move!”

    “That’s not going to happen, you see, I want to destroy all I have, and if I do that, I can have all I want.”

    “What the fuck are you talking about?”

    “Overkill, you see, I could’ve quit here and just left my partner and started again, but where’s the fun in that? Overkill leaves no real messy holes from my past, all it does is tightly wrap up everything, so nothing can slip out and spoil my dreams.”

    ‘Is the world going fucking insane?’ Gary rushes towards Maddox with his blaster trained on him. “I have no time to fuck around, so why don’t you get on the fucking ground and make this easier on both of us,” Maddox launches himself at Gary, who quickly fires several shots into Maddox’s chest, but he keeps on coming.

    This cannot be happening again?’ Gary takes the full brunt of Maddox attack, and it only takes several strikes for Maddox to send Gary’s bloody and beaten body to the floor.

    “How pathetic,” Maddox says as Gary slips into unconsciousness. “Now about that resignation,” he says, turning his attention to the frightened attendant.

     

    #

     

    “You’re fucking kidding me? He skinned them while they were alive?” Davey says in shock.

    “No doubt about it, they were definitely alive when they were skinned, I haven’t the faintest idea what he did with the skin, but the trauma produced shows they were alive and awake when it happened,” Danny replies.

    “What the fuck could make someone do something like that?”

    “I’m not finished, you haven’t heard the most disturbing part,” Danny says. “We’ve got positive identifications on both victims, the one on the right was his sister and the one on the left was his ex-wife.”

    “Fuck me, this guy fucking skinned his own sister, I mean I can understand the ex-wife, but his sister?” Davey says. “I’ll contact Gary and let him know.”

    “Detective Sergeant, we might need you out here?” an officer calls from the courtyard outside, Davey quickly heads out of the unit and towards where the officers are standing.

    “Can we make this quick,” Davey says.

    “That’s a negative sir, we followed your instructions and were trying to get a time frame of the suspect’s movements, and we found this,” the officer motions for Davey to follow him into a unit, Maddox Jensen’s unit.

    “Oh for crying out loud, fuck me,” Davey says as he stands over the young girls remains.

     

    #

     

    Gary comes back to reality in pain and slowly gets to his feet, coughing violently until he spits out a large wad of blood on to the ground before him, “FUCK!” He wipes the remaining saliva from his mouth and quickly scans the remains of the destroyed store, and lets out a groan of disappointment when he spots the body of the young female attendant laying a few feet away from the door. He staggers over to her body and checks her pulse, it’s all but gone and she lets out a grimace of pain, he frantically searches the surrounding area for Maddox, but there is no sign of him anywhere.

    “This is Jackson, I’m in need of assistance at my current location.”

    “What is the nature of your situation detective inspector?”

    “I have one casualty who requires urgent assistance, and get some bodies down here because I’ve got another nut job going ballistic like the one from last night at Park Side.”

    “Understood, assistance is on its way to your location, hold tight.”

    Gary runs his hands through her hair, “Don’t worry you’re going to make it.”

    “You know she won’t live much longer, they will never make it in time so why lie to her?” a voice says from behind him, Gary swings around and pulls out his blaster repeatedly firing at Maddox’s head, all the shots hit their target but Maddox still stands, with a smile on his face.

    Gary lowers his blaster and flicks the override switch, the few moments he needs for the blaster to get to maximum charge seem like forever, the similarities to the case from earlier are astounding, but he can’t help but think that there is more of a connection here than meets the eye, and he needs to survive this so he can get the chance to solve it all and put a stop to whatever or whoever is turning these ordinary innocent victims into killing machines.

    “Why do all this, what is in it for you?” Gary asks.

    “This is not like your typical movie, you are not Stacy Keach in Mike Hammer, and you will not walk away with the case solved and the girl in your bed. I’ll not tell you all my reasons while you try to think of a way to stop me. I’m simply going to send you to your death, knowing nothing more than you do now,” with that Maddox dives at Gary, with the grace of someone half his size Gary manoeuvre’s himself and Maddox into position and both crash to the ground, Gary’s blaster wedged deep within Maddox’s mouth, it’s then that the blaster shrieks with a warning as it announces its charge has passed safety levels and into the danger zone. Maddox’s smiles like a crazy man spurring Gary to pull the trigger.

    “Let’s see if you’ve got a cast iron stomach,” Gary says as he pulls the trigger, and the violent blast thrusts itself into Maddox’s mouth, ripping his head apart. After a few moments of silence, Gary forces Maddox’s body off him and gets to his feet, but he falls straight back to his knees, his hand shattered and ripped to pieces from the blast, he stuffs it into his jacket and forces himself back up again. He can hear the sounds of sirens getting closer and he stumbles over to the girl’s now lifeless body and collapses by her side. He stares upward as he feels his heart beating hard in his chest, he hears Davey’s voice yelling his name just before the darkness takes him.

     

    #

     

    “How the fuck do you know my name?” The girl asks the large towering figure.

    “That is of no importance Kylie, what is important is that I know you long for release, I know you feel your life is not your own. You’re living up to what your parents want you to be, what your lover needs you to be, when all you really want to be is free of all of these things and live your life to your own drum. I can offer you that freedom, I can give you that escape. And all you have to do is join my employment, and I promise that tomorrow will be the first day of your new life, and all those who are in your way will simply not exist,” Hide says.

    “How do I know you’re not some weirdo looking to get into my pants?”

    “My dear, that is far from my intention, please take my card and think about it, tomorrow we will talk, but be quick my dear the position is only open for a short time and I would hate for you to miss your chance” Hide says as he holds out his card, Kylie stands there for a few moments before she takes the card from him.

     

    END OF CHAPTER FIVE