Tag: shorts

…Jethro charges forward, his blades held out to his sides. With a cry, he leaps into the air, and forward towards the oncoming horde.

His blades move through the air in a preordained path, slicing though flesh and bone as if there was no difference between the two. He lands on the damp soil, steading himself with a splayed hand, as bodies around him tumble hopelessly to the earth.

He casts a snarling gaze upwards and meets Sabastian’s eyes with his own.

“The windy city has been kind to you old friend, maybe I was foolish to let you leave.”

“I have never been yours to rule over, old friend,” he spits, as he readies himself once more for attack.

“I beg to differ,” he says as he pulls Kiyota into view, her wrist firmly in his grasp. Her desperate gaze pulls at the threads of Jethro’s heart, and he grimaces once more.

“LET HER GO, OR I WILL BRING YOUR EMPIRE DOWN UPON YOU!”

“Then she will die,” Sabastian says callously as he pulls her close before gently digging the blade of a knife into her throat, breaking the skin ever so slightly.

“NO!” he bellows as he stretches out a hand desperately.

“NO?” Sabastian mimics, as he looks upon Jethro with eyes tight and confused. “What more can you threaten to take from me if I do? What else do I have, if I do not have my empire?”

“Y-Your life, one I’ll gladly take.”

“Without this, I care not for much else, so death would be a reward well earnt,” he says nonchalantly, as he drags the blade across her throat, sending a volcano of red out towards the bewildered Jethro….

…Jerry sucks in another desperate breath, and closes his eyes as he grimaces in pain, pressing the back of his palm against the gash that cuts halfway across his cheek.

“Hurt?” Peggy asks with a wide smile across her bloody lips.

“YOU FUCKING KNOW IT DOES!” he bellows as his eyes shoot open wide, and he stares deathly towards her.

“Sounds like your ego took a little bit of a hit too.” she purrs playfully.

“MY FUCKING EGO, IS MIGHTY FUCKING FINE! THANK YOU VERY MUCH!” he spits.

“Not from where I’m standing,” she scoffs as she dances around him like an animal boxing in its prey, readying to strike.

“It’s exactly how I want you to think,” he says as he sweep her legs out from under her, and drives a knife into her shoulder, pinning her to the floor.

“Clever boy, I wasn’t e..” But before she can say another word, he drives several more knives deep into her flesh, each knife digging into the wooden boards of the floor below.

“You never had a good imagination!” he sneers, as he thrusts a final knife into the center of her skull. For a few long moments he cradles himself, gently sobbing in his own arms, as emption after emotion washes over him. Finally after what seems like forever, he takes an uneasy step upward, and allows his heavy chest to fall.

“What, is that all you’ve got?” she asks, as her dead eyes look up into his….

…“You come here, and you expect me to just hand over my life’s work without a fight! What kind of IDIOT do you think I am!” Herbert cries as he thrusts a knife out towards Bronty.

“The idiot who brings a knife, to a gun fight!” Bronty snarls through a jaded smile, as she raises her pistol towards him.

Herbert lets the knife drop to the ground and throws his hands into the air as he takes a few anxious steps back. “You don’t want to do that,” he says nervously.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to tell me what I can and cannot do.”

“I’m not trying to telling you anything, I’m simply suggesting you shouldn’t venture down this road. In fact, if y…” But his words are stolen from his lips, as a bullet tears into his shoulder, sending him stumbling backwards, and to the floor in an awkward heap.

“And I said, you’re in no position to tell me what to do,” she spits as she digs the pistol’s barrel into the side of his skull and pulls him to his feet. “NOW, ARE WE DONE?”

“A-A-ARE W-W-WE DONE!” a clumsily spoken voice sings from the other side of the room. Quickly she spins to face the voices owner, tightly gripping Herbert as she uses him as a shield.

“W-W-What t-the FUCK!” she stammers as she stares into a slightly distorted version of herself.

“W-W-WHAT THE F-FUCK!” her doppelganger bellows as she holds a chainsaw into the air, and pulls the cord, bringing it to a roaring life….

…His cup topples from the bench and twists its way to a violent death at the hands of the floor. A sea of tea exploded from all sides, as the porcelain slammed into the hard polished concrete floor, and shatters from one end of the room to the other.

Cory looks over to Freddy, and gives him a playful wink, while blowing him a kiss. “Begger can’t be chooses too!” he says with snotty flair.

“FUCK YOU PRETTY BOY! I CAN BE WHATEVER I WANT TO BE!” Freddy roars as he thrust himself to his feet, crushing the slithers of cup into the floor with his high fuck-me boots.

“Did your mummy tell you that? Because if she did, she was only lying to keep you from crying!”

“ARE YOU GOING TO KEEP FLAPPING YOUR LIPS OR ARE WE GONNA PUNCH THE FUCK ON!” Freddy bellows as he raises both fists into the air and twists his lips in anger.

Cory nods his head with smug gusto. “Oh, we are gonna punch the FUCK on, that’s for sure,” he says, as he slashes the blade of a knife quickly through the air, several time, slicing deep gashes across Freddy’s arms and knuckles. He lets out a grimace of pain, hisses loudly, and pulls his hand in tightly towards himself, while letting his fists relax into open hands as he surveys the damage.

“W-W-What t…” But his words are stolen quickly away, as Cory drives a haymaker of a left into his right temple, before driving another into his left, sending Freddy staggering backwards, before he stumbles forwards, and catches a upwards thrusting knee to his chin for payment. His world explodes in colour, and then is engulfed in darkness as he feels the earth rush up and hit him in the face….

…“Pink doesn’t suit you, not like the red did,” Sally says with a wry smile across her lips as he thrusts two legs into the air and leans back against Randy’s mutilated corpse.

“You’re just jealous that I can pull off a feminine colour like pink, while you’re stuck flannelette shirts and gumboots!”

“At least I fill out my shirt, not like the flat chested WHORE you wish you could be!”

“Really? NOW! You two are gonna fight about his now?” Chrissy interrupts.

“YES WE ARE!” the two reply in unison.

“SHEESH!” Chrissy spits. “Daddy ain’t gonna be happy when we get back home and he hears about this,” she says before Sally grips her by one of her pigtails and slams her against the wall.

“YOU AIN’T TELLING DADDY SHIT!” she bellows, as her face twists with rage.

“ANNIE! H-H-HELP ME!” Chrissy cries.

“I AIN’T HELPING YOU DO SHIT, NOT IF YOU’RE GONNA BE A BIG FAT DOBBA!” she spits.

“B-B-BUT!”

“BUT NOTHING BITCH!” Sally roars as she grips Chrissy by the throat, pins her to the wall and lifts her a few feet off the ground. “NOW, ARE YOU GONNA BE A GOOD GIRL, OR ARE WE GONNA HAVE TO TELL DADDY THAT YOU PLAYED A LITTLE TOO CLOSE TO THE SUN?”

“Y-Y-Y-You w-w-wouldn’t?” she stammers.

“Wouldn’t we? Are you sure?” Sally spits with wryly. “Annie, tell Chrissy what happened to Pammy, and by that, I mean what really happened.”

Chrissy’s eyes widen with terror as she looks over to the grinning Annie….

…“I never wanted you to be just another one of my victims, but yet here we are, wallowing in a sea of red,” Javier says through trembling lips as he cradles Monica’s pale corpse in his hand, while tears cascade down his face. He gently brushes the dirty hair from her face and strokes her cheek with the back of his bruised and blood-stained hand. He lets out a stuttered sigh as he looks up into the night sky above them, then closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in before launching himself downward, biting into Monica’s flesh with a jagged row of razor-sharp teeth. For some minutes they remain locked in their embrace, as Javier sucks the life rich blood from her dried, and decaying form.

“Is this how you show love?” Monica hisses.

Javier’s eyes shoot open and he thrusts himself away, letting out a low growl, bearing his teeth like a wild animal as she gets to her feet like a awkwardly animated cartoon character.

Her head twists around, and a wild, broad grin tears itself across her lips. “What’s wrong lover, devil got your tongue?”

“H-H-HOW! I-I-I, I DRAINED YOU DRY! Y-Y-YOU SHOULD BE DUST!” he spits.

“Drained me you did, but not to the last drop, for a sea runs within me, a sea you could never drain alone!” she snarls proudly.

“Then it is fate that I didn’t,” he sings, as a handful of figures scurry from the darkness and surround her….

….Franklin staggers forward several feet, before tumbling forward into the sea of red that has formed from the waterfall that flows from his gut.

“Who would’ve thought that in the end patience WAS a virtue,” Henrique sneers with a muffled laugh as he drops to his knees and takes in several exhausted breaths. “Fifteen years, and all I had to do was wait for you to show yourself for who you really were, instead of searching the cracks and crevices of this dying land.”

“If your words were palatable, I would swallow them whole, yet they are covered in shit and smell worse.” Claudio says with a broad grin across his lips as he crouches in front of the bewildered Henrique.

“H-H-How?”

“A nudge here, a poke there, a little bit of theatrics everywhere, nothing more or less, but that’s all I needed to spin my web.”

“B-B-But if y-you live, t-that m-mean t-t-th…” he stammers as he looks frantically over to Franklin’s form, who’s dead eyes stare towards him in silence.

“That you killed your oldest friend for nought? Why yes, yes I do believe you did.”…

…The ship arches forward as it’s sails are filled with a fierce gust of wind, propelling her forward at speeds once thought impossible. Davy looks over to Shaun with a broad smile across his sun-dried lips, “I TOLD YOU! I KNEW! HOPE IS OURS! THE WIND HAS FINALLY COME TO SAVE US AS SHE PROMISED!” he roars with words drenched in a joy not heard from in many days. “Life may still be ours to steal back!”

Shaun smiles halfheartedly, before looking over his shoulder and into the darkness that slowly swallows the world behind them. “Where can we run to that it cannot swallow? This ship will run out of sea eventually, and then what?”

“WE RUN!” Davy bellows with jovial laughter.

“We can’t run forever, can we?”

The red runs dry from Davy’s cheeks, and he looks out across the open sea before them while he gently chews on the strips of flesh that hang from his lips, before he looks over the Shaun with a grim scowl painted across his deep brow. “For sixty-three years I lived a life scared of the day death came for me instead of living the life I SHOULD’VE lived, and now that death has cast its stone in my bucket, all I want is what it stole! So my answer is yes, YES WE FUCKING CAN!” he sneers while giving Shaun a playful wink….

…“Pale in comparison, that is what I said,” Snake hisses through clench jaw.

“Really?” Clive scoffs. “You think you are something I should fear?”

“I think you should count all the bodies that stand against you for what they are, red flags, revolutions, and penance. We are the many, and we are the ONE!” he spits.

“YOU ARE NOTHING!” Clive bellows as he swings the blade of his sword through the air, removing Snake’s head from his body, then with bared teeth turns to the others that kneel before him, their hands hogtied behind them.

“Who wants to be the next to feel my WRATH!” he seethes with fiery spit flying from his lips. “Who, who kneels before me, wishes to challenge my RULE!”

“All, and none,” Snake wheezes behind him, as his decapitated corpse uneasily gets to his feet, while his head slowly regrows from the severed stump.

“W-W-W-What m-manner of s-sorcery is t-this?” he stammers, as he takes a staggered step backwards.

“This is not s-sorcery, t-this is your penance paid in spades!”…

…The light blinks five or six times before glowing as bright as a newborn star, revelling a sea of shadow figures surrounding Damon, with Christoph at the forefront.

“Hello little brother, miss me?” he asks with a swagger Damon had not seen before in his brother.

“I-I-I, I didn’t even realise you w-were gone.”

The smile drops from Christoph’s face, and he stares at his brother with a stony resolve, before he smiles broadly once again. “The old Christoph would’ve let a crude remark like that cut to his very bone, but not I, not the Christoph that stands before you. I laugh,” he says with a well-placed overly loud and deeply sarcastic laugh. “I laugh while you suffer in the SHIT you FUCKING built for yourself.”

“YOU BUILT THIS SHIT, I JUST TOOK IT FROM YOUR DEAD HANDS AND MADE IT INTO SOMETHING BETTER! SOMETHING WORTH FUCKING DYING FOR!” he bellows as he thrusts himself to his feet, sizing himself up to his smiling brother.

“Well then little brother,” Christoph sneers, as the light goes out. “Prepare to die.”…

…Leo smiles broadly and nods his head in rhythmic fashion while pointing a finger towards David. “You almost had me,” he says with jovial jest.

David smiles nervously. “W-W-What gave me away?”

“That FUCKING smile,” he spits as he thrusts his hand into the air. “That FUCKING smarmy arsed smile ain’t the smile of some psycho serial killer, it’s the smile of a prankster looking for some new fool to take advantage of. Well give yourself a round of applause because you almost had me.” Leo says as he pulls a revolver from a holster beneath his jacket, winks playfully at David, before he squeezes the trigger back and removes half his head.

Time slows as David’s head explodes from the impact, sending pieces of skull, flesh and brain flying in all directions while a volcan of red erupts into the sky.

“CAN YOU PLEASE STOP KILLING THEM!” David bellows as he charges into the room and snatches the gun from Leo’s hands. “DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG IT TAKE, TO GET THEM TO THIS STAGE?”

Leo squeezes his lips together and grips his jaw between his thumb and forefinger while closing one eye and staring off into the distance with the other. “About three weeks?” he says with a cocky smile and a wink.

“YOU ARE IMPOSSIBLE!” he screams.

“And your dead!” Leo says as he produces a second pistol from another holster in his jacket, raises it quickly to David’s head and pulls the trigger….

…“Rose coloured glasses don’t always overlook the desperate and unforgivable, they just dress them up in bright coloured flares and some long hair,” Janice sings with a wry smile across her lips, as she dances whimsically around the vacant lot, weaving and dodging, until she finally comes to a stop in front of the kneeling Stuart.

“What say you knight of the light? Do you think the world is ready to see herself for what she truly is?” she purrs, as she caresses his cheek with her blood-soaked hand.

“She is not what you think she is. She is not broken like you.”

She laughs softly. “Like ME? Are you saying I am broken?” she says as she presses a hand against her chest and looks playfully shocked.

“Lady,” he snarls with twisted lips. “You are one FUCKED up piece of work that I can’t even start to put into a category.”

Her smile waivers, then broadens. “Well then my sweet little child, let me help you with that!” she says as she grips him by the side of the head, and tears one of his ears off….

…Gerry clenches his teeth and drives the blade deep into Luke’s stomach, staring deep into his eyes as the life leaks from his stomach.

“Y-Y-You b-b-ba…” But his words are cut short as Gerry pulls the knife free, and drives it back in several more times, then once his thirst is quenched, he lets the lifeless husk drop to the blood-soaked earth below.

“Stolen away, time and places,” he hisses.

“Yet the loop is never complete,” Luke sings with sarcastic flair from behind.

“There is no loop, there is only betrayal.”

“Yours or mine?”

“Both, or neither.”

Luke laughs softly. “There cannot be one or neither, there can only be one or the other.”

“In the real world maybe, but when you stepped over that landing, you stepped into my world, where only my rules apply.”

 “Then why am I still standing?”

“Because I see fit to keep you that way, and when I grow tired,” he says with a wide grin across his lips. “And believe me, one day I will, you won’t be standing then.”…

…The light burns through the doorway, and cuts Fabian’s flesh as if it were a knife. He lets out a muffled cry, as he clenches his teeth tightly and casts a fevered glance towards Marcus.

“A-Are you HAPPY!” he spits.

“Happy is a human emotion long since lost to our kind, can’t you JUST let go, and embrace who you truly are?”

“A-And w-what is that? T-THE DEVIL!”

Marcus laughs softly, “There is only room enough in hell for one devil, and I have that role,” he sings with a playful curtsey. “You are the fool who must keep the king entertained.”

“W-What a s-surprise, y-y-you always k…” But his words a torn from his flesh, as the sun’s rays cut through the open doorway and burn his flesh like a hot iron.

“I ALWAYS WHAT?” Marcus bellows venomously, as he grabs Fabian by the back of the skull and forces his face into the sun for several seconds, before pulling it back away. “ALYWAS WHAT YOU PATHETIC PIECE OF SHIT!”

Fabian lets out a groan lost in the depths of pain, while a wry smile slithers its way across his lips. “M-M-Made you look,” he spits as he grips Marcus and thrusts him into the doorway…

…The light from the television falls away leaving Stuart staring blankly at the empty screen. Seconds pass quickly as they are suddenly minutes, while Stuart’s gaze stays firmly planted on the screen. The silence is soon washed away as gently buzz beings to emit itself from the well inside the screen. A buzz that grows louder and louder with each passing moment. Then as it reaches its crescendo an arm reaches out towards him, and while Stuart’s eyes scream out, his body remains stationary. Some countless moments later a second arm reaches out, and with unseen focus, the hands grip either side of the screen, and a figure pulls himself out and he falls to the floor before Stuart.

His lips tremble and a sea of sweat streams down his face as his eyes terrified, looks down upon the huddles figure. “W-W-W-Wha…” But his words find themselves captured in his throat as the figure stands quickly up, and stands proudly before him. “B-B-Brad?” he stammers in surprise.

“That’s right Stewie, it’s me Brad Pitt, your old mate!” Brad says with a playful wink, and a broad grin.

“B-B-B-But how?” Stuart mumbles as he looks bewilderingly over to the television.

“Let’s not get caught up in the how, and keep ourselves in the now,” Brad says as he moves in the way of Stuart’s gaze, dragging it back to him. “IT’S ME, BRAD PITT! Don’t want to waste THAT worrying about how it is, RIGHT?”…

…“It is such a shame,” Louie sighs as he casts a wayward glance across the barren lands that lay beyond the citadel’s walls, before looking back down to Jacque. “I had hoped we could’ve ruled over these lands as one.”

“BULLSHIT!” he spits through broken bloody teeth. “There was only ever ONE WAY you wanted this to END, and it’s the ending you’ve GOTTEN!”

Louie smiles and throws his head back into the air while laughing loudly. “Bravo my love! Bravo!” he applauds with jovial excitement as he claps his hands together while he looks around the courtyard in a overdramatise fashion. “Where are they? Are they hidden in cow dung, or are they mounted on the backs of the flies that buzz around us?”

Jacques face screws up in confusion and a fresh sea of sweat begins to flow from his bruised and beaten brow. “W-W-What the F-F-FUCK are you t-talking about? What’s m-mounted the b-back of f-f-flies?”

The smile on Louise’s face broadens while his eyes sparkle in the fading light. “The cameras my dear boy! The cameras!”

“W-W-What c-cameras?”

“The ones recording your performance of course! For a performance as good as the one you are putting on would be wasted without a camera to capture it.”…

…As the cage drops over Damon, he swallows a frantic mouthful of dead air. Gripping the barbed metal, he grimaces as the talons cut into his flesh. With panicked desperation he struggles to lift the monstrosity, before a laboured clapping erupts from beyond the hallowed darkness that surrounds the cold foothills was once his family’s proud land.

“A king to his people, is what he asked for,” a haggard voice sings as the decaying form of Barnaby steps into the light around him. “A KING!”

“W-W-W-WHY! WHY DO YOU HAUNT ME SO!” he bellows.

“I am no GHOST! I am a promise given form! I am a piece of paper, signed and sealed. I am a reminder of a memory desperately hidden in the back of oneself, ensuring the deal is fulfilled!”

“BUT IT’S NOT MY DEAL! IT’S NOT MY PROMISE! WHY COME CLAIM THE DIVIDENS FROM ME, WHEN HIS WAS THE BLOOD THAT SEALED YOUR WAGER!” he spits with stomach churning desperation.

Barnaby smiles a mouthful of rotten teeth. “He wagered not just his eternal soul, but that of his linage, and as each generation moves behind the next, I collet what is owed!”

Damon laughs nervously, as his lips quiver. “T-T-T-Then y-y-you’re not h-h-here for me, a-a-as I have n-n-no kin, a-a-and this is j-j-just s-s-some demented warning? T-T-To scare me i-i-in succumbing to y-your will!”

“NO! You have sown your seed, a father you are about to become.”

“W-W-WHAT?” he stammers as a sea of sweat cascades down his brow….

…The glass of the window begins to crystallize as the cold winds freeze everything it touches in place.

Cashion turns with trembling lips and allows his gaze to fall off to the side momentarily, before bringing it back to Becky. “T-T-The worst c-c-chill t-t-this town h-h-has seen in a-a-a hundred a-and t-t-thirty years?” he stammers.

“O-O-One hundred a-a-and t-t-t-thirty-eight, t-t-to be p-p-precise,” she quips back through fevered tongue.

“You are both wrong,” Danielle says proudly as she pushes the doors open and strides into the room while the doors shatter into millions of pieces. “It has been one hundred and forty-seven years to this very day since I last set foot in this wretched town. Fifty-three-thousand, six-hundred and ninety-one long days ago, but who’s counting?” she asks with a jovial laugh, before her face screw up with wretched anger, and she leans in close to Becky. “I AM, THAT’S WHO’S COUNTING!” she bellows as she spins around and stares down towards the petrified Cashion, pointing a boney finger towards the young boy, while licking the saliva from her blue lips with feverish delight. “Y-Y-You are his, a-a-aren’t you? Y-Y-You are a Doogan?”

“N-N-N-No, I-I-I, I’m not a-a-a D-D-Doogan, b-b-but she is! S-S-S-SHE’S A-A-A, A DOOGAN!” he stammers, as he thrusts a trembling finger towards Becky.

Danielle smiles wryly and nods her head, as she casts a wayward glance over to Becky, before turning it back to Cashion. “That she may be boy, that she may be. But you my sweet boy,” she purrs as she runs a cold finger along the side of his cheek. “You are a pure Doogan as the night is long.” she sings as she thrusts her hand into his chest and rips his still beating heart up for his dying eyes to see….

…“I crept upon the sleeping dogs, like daylight does the night. None of them knew I was there until I had my knife in their back, and by then it was too late,” Clyde laments as he grabs his half full stubbie and drains it down his throat before slamming it on the counter. “ANOTHER ROUND!” he roars proudly as he throws a bunch of screwed up dollar bills onto the bar.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Emily purrs as she strokes his chest. “Don’t you think we should get out of here, and find somewhere more private?”

“Pft!” he snots as he grabs the bottle from the bartender before he can pull the cap off, and instead tears it off with his teeth. “Why do we need to find somewhere private? Ain’t here good enough for you?”

She looks around the seedy bar and rolls her eyes before letting out a long-winded sigh. “Not for what I want to do to you,” she says as she gently rubs up against him and grips his groin tightly.

He smiles broadly. “Well FUCK me stupid woman, all you had to do was say so!” he announces as he drains the bottle eagerly as he stumbles to his feet, gripping her tightly in one arm. “I’m looking forward to this,” he slurs.

“So am I,” she says with a wide smile, proudly displaying rows of razor-sharp teeth…

…“I called that classy lady just like you said, and I’ve gotta say she was very thorough!” he says with a broad grin upon his face.

Clive leans over and nudges him in the arm with his elbow. “Nothing like a thorough woman, doing what she does best, is there!”

“Diana sure knew what she was doing, I can tell you that!” he says with a jovial laugh, as Clive pulls away in horror.

“D-D-Did you says Di-Diana?” he stammers nervously as his face drains of blood, and a sea of sweat breaks out on his brow.

“What the fucks wrong with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

“A-Are you s-sure she said h-her name was D-Diana?”

“Mate, I won’t ever forget that woman’s name, ever!” he replies, before Clive grips him by the shirt collar and thrust him into the air.

“DID SHE HAVE A BIRTHMARK ON HER RIGHT SHOULDER BLADE IN THE SHAPE OF A CRESCENT MOON?” he spits frantically, while Drew stares dumbfoundingly into his eyes. “FOR GOD SAKE DREW, TELL ME! DID SHE HAVE A B….” But his words stumble away, as he notices Drew’s gaze is far more than that of shock.

“Hello, lover boy,” a woman’s voice purrs from behind him.

“D-D-D-Diana?” he stammers…