Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

Tag: Tasmania

  • Day 21- Lies Of A Broken World – Chapter Two – Act I

    Day 21- Lies Of A Broken World – Chapter Two – Act I

    Her cold dead eyes stare into his, her mouth slightly open as though she was trying to say something, but he knows she is beyond telling him what he needs to know. The male seems like all the rest, a nobody, somebody they pulled into this game with no knowledge of what they had walked into. But the girl, even though she can’t talk to him, she is. Tonight, the discovery of the two bodies found on the outskirts of Sunset Heights under the new message ‘Come, play with me Jackson!’ shows a deviation from what has come before. In his eyes confirming that his middle figure salute a few hours ago pushed the killer to take a new step and now Gary stands there, looking at the two bodies before him and contemplates how this will end and more importantly, when.

    “The male is Jordan Ritcher, nothing interesting about him, a few aggravated assaults on his records, other than that nothing. The woman though, she’s the interesting one, Sally Kessler. She was a constable right here in Three.”

    “She looks familiar, kind of, I might have seen her around a few times, but I can’t be sure, but I’m sure that’s not going to be what’s so interesting about her, is it?”

    “You’re correct in that assumption, her records state that she recently had an altercation with her inspector and was removed from active duty with no return date set, this all happened a little over a month ago, I mean, that’s what her official records state anyway when I checked her file.”

    “And the unofficial?”

    “It was more the right hook that she connected with, according to the rumour mill, that’s what got her removed from active duty. But there are no records of any disciplinary hearings going forward, so you can take that information anyway you like.”

    “What was the reason she clocked her inspector?” Gary asks.

    “Apparently it was over the way they were handling a case that involved a young girl who had been raped, she seemed to disagree with their bed side manner and took it upon herself to stand up for the girls rights. Here’s where it gets even more interesting, the man who the girl accused of raping her was victim number eight Harry Thorpe.”

    “So it gets interesting, I mean, I’ve been where she is, even clocked a few high and mighty fuckers myself, but that doesn’t scream serial killer wannabe accomplice or anything. The thing that rings clear is for this Thorpe to turn up in our list of victims, why didn’t we pick this up before?”

    “The case was dropped, the girl withdrew her statement.”

    “You think they got to her, made a deal, or whatever?”

    “No sure, but I do know, Sally, she isn’t like our killers usual victims, she was combat trained, two years out in the wastelands, her record is long and from all accounts she was a tough as nails bitch. So whoever did this had the element of surprise on their side, I’d say she knew the attacker, and was comfortable enough to have her guard down.” Danny says.

    “So what are you saying?”

    “I’m not sure, compared to the rest, she was fully clothed when the attack happened, and I say this because I’ve got clothing fragments in the entry point. I’m telling you Gary, there is so much about this body that screams different we would be stupid to ignore it.”

    “So either she caught our killer in the act, or she was a possible accomplice that outlived her usefulness. Which, in any situation like this, signals a major change coming, either the end or our killer is going to step up their cycle, which is why we’ve got two bodies and a change in the message.”

    “Both, or neither, I’m not the detective here, but I agree with you that something is coming, the game is either going to come to an end or our killer is going to start giving us more bodies per site, and I’d say you going nationwide and sticking your middle figure up at them pushed their game plan forward some.”

    “That was the intent, they’ve been sending us in a spin since this all started and we’ve been running around like rats in a maze, pushing them into the end game is what we needed. The message they sent, in the blood, suggests an ending but the two bodies suggest upping the ante, either way I’m sure the next twenty-four hours will answer the question.” It’s then that Gary spies the young man walking towards him though the police barrier out of the corner of his eye. ‘Fuck Me,’ “Oliver, I told you to stay at the station.”

    “Sorry sir, but I…” Oliver’s reply is cut short as he spots the bodies and throws up.

    “Jesus Oliver,” Gary says as he grabs him by the arm and forces him away from the scene. “What the hell are you doing here?”

    “Superintendent Gleeson wanted me to give you this,” Oliver replies as he holds out an envelope. “It arrived at the station thirty minutes ago, we’ve already opened it, and it’s clean, but we felt you should see it straight away.”

    Gary takes the envelope and quickly pulls out a picture of a young girl from within it, he turns over the picture and his eyes widen as he reads the words written on the back.

    ‘Tonight it ends, come and stop me if you can Jackson.’

    ‘I’m gathering this is what the son of a bitch meant by time to play.’ Placing the photo in his jacket pocket he looks back at Oliver, who is eagerly awaiting a response, but the look Gary gives him tells him all he needs to know.

    “We’ve known since the second body turned up on our doorstep that you play a major role in this sicko’s agenda sir, but this is the first time they’ve attempted to communicate directly with you, besides the gifts they leave underneath your name.”

    “Gifts?”

    “The body’s sir, it’s like a cat bringing home a rat or a bird and leaving it at the front door to proudly show their owners.”

    “You think this sicko wants to be my fucking pet?”

    “That’s not what I’m saying sir, all we know is that right now, the lines of communication are open, and we just have to find a way to seize this as an advantage.”

    “The only thing I see as an advantage at the moment is this fucker has given us their next victim, all we have to do is find her before she ends up like the rest. Has she got a name?”

    “Not yet, we’re still trying to find a match, if she’s one of the illegal outsiders, then it’s going to make it harder finding her.”

    “I know where that picture was taken, dirty little area called Ratchets Lane, a small-time thug by the name of Leroy runs that area. He might know who she is, or at least, know where I can find her,” Gary replies. “We only have hours to find this girl Oliver, get back to the station and find out what you can and I’ll go see Leroy.”

    “Are you sure that’s wise, why risk putting yourself in the firing line?”

    “Read the letter Oliver, this fucker wants me,” Gary replies as he climbs aboard his modified AC-Stinger, the latest law enforcement gravity motorcycle to be rolled out to Delta City PD. With speeds over two hundred miles per hour and other enchantments such as layered hologram camouflage technology and an advanced weapon system linked to the riders helmet, makes it a valuable addition to helping fight crime on the streets.

    “Be careful sir.”

    Gary puts his helmet on, and takes off towards Ratchets Lane, brushing off Oliver’s concerned words.

     

    END OF ACT I

     

  • Day 20 – Dialla – YouChallenge Short Story

    Day 20 – Dialla – YouChallenge Short Story

    To say my brother and I have had an eventful life would be putting it bluntly, you could say it started when we first escaped our mother’s womb, nine weeks earlier than planned. For that we spent the next three months in the intensive care unit of the baby’s ward at St Alban Children’s Hospital. The next few years of our lives had us in and out of hospital for a range of things but as we got older, we became stronger, my brother Jesse would tell you differently, but that’s because he’s more of a jerk than me, of course it’s not his fault, it’s just the way it all turned out.

    But if I was to put my finger on the one thing that really changed our lives it would be when the Fargans moved in next door when we were thirteen and we met Dialla. Mum being the major nosey parker she was, could not let their arrival go without sticking her nose in the front door and inviting us all over for a welcome to the neighbourhood meal. The Fargans, of course, wanted nothing more than to be left alone and settle in to their new home, but they learned quickly Mum is a stubborn woman, so they agreed to the dinner and Mum relentlessly went about creating dishes for the night.

    Half their belongings still hadn’t been unpacked when we arrived for dinner, so Mum went about directing traffic and getting Mrs Fargans ready for the night ahead, and that’s when we first saw her, Dialla. Her name was just about as unusual as she was, but both Jesse and myself were smitten, she looked like she just walked out of playboy, and our teenage hormones could not control themselves. Dinner was a disaster, with Mum taking every opportunity to embarrass us, but Dialla just smiled and batted those beautiful eyelids at us the whole time. After dinner Mum and Mrs Fargans disappeared off into the kitchen, while Dad and Mister Fargans shared a beer and talked about football and cars, it seemed they had a lot in common and became quick friends. As the years went on Dad and Mister Fargans, or Uncle Trev, as we ended up calling him, opened a mechanic shop together and ended up making it pretty successful.

    But it was what happened next that changed that whole night, Jesse and I were left to awkwardly talk with Dialla, who after five minutes of awkward silence asked us excitedly if we wanted to see something awesome down in the cellar. Jesse and I didn’t hesitate to say yes, you see, when the Millers lived here this was a creepy place, but at the same time it was awesome, I had my first and only feel of Kelly Miller’s boobs in that cellar and Jesse, well he got to feel something a bit lower down, that all happened the week before the Millers left so the memories were still fresh in our minds, and I have to be honest, I was instantly erect when she took us down. Dialla had set up her room down there and it was like a studio apartment, with a silk curtain separating the room off from her bed. To start with she got Jesse and I to sit down and then she kisses both of us, full lounge and all, it was amazing. I made a mental note to make sure that when I was to write my memoirs that this room would be considered my good luck charm. She then proceeded to do a little dance and what happened next I’ll never forget.

    “So how far have you boys been with a girl?” She asked.

    “All the way,” Jesse blurted out, I looked at him quickly knowing he was a lying sack of shit.

    “What about you Bobby? You been all the way?” She asked as she leans in towards me, I could see right down her top and I felt my erect penis twitch with excitement.

    “Umm sure, hasn’t everyone?” I replied nervously, she just laughed.

    “You boys know there’s nothing wrong with being a virgin, don’t you?” she said laughing as she stepped behind the curtain. “Now, honestly, have you both been all the way with a girl?” She asked like a school teacher, we bother looked at the floor and said no in unison.

    “I thought as much, well how about we change that,” she said, I came in my pants at that precise time, I’m pretty sure Jesse did as well, and she just laughed some more.

    “Don’t worry boys, I’m still good,” she said as she came out from behind the curtain, both Jesse and my mouth’s dropped open, standing there was the most beautiful girl either of us had ever seen, and where it should have been nothing but hair, was a big, and when I say big, I mean huge, hard, penis. Jesse looked at me again and I could tell he was thinking the same thing I was, and we both ran home as fast as our legs could carry us.

    It was pretty awkward for a while after that, it turned out that Dialla had a weird sense of humour and also enjoyed the occasional dress up, had we stayed around a bit longer or the light had of been better in the room, we would’ve realised it was a strap on dildo that she had on and not a real one. Of course we laughed about it, years later, and we got used to Dialla’s weird sense of humour, not to say it didn’t get us into a lot of trouble, because it did, and, eventually I even married the crazy woman, but I swear from that day on I never looked at playboy again.

     

    END

    The challenge was 2 young kids find something in the neighbours basement, think I nailed it.

  • Day 19 – It’s All In The Fine Print II – Short Story

    Day 19 – It’s All In The Fine Print II – Short Story

    Damon Welford slams the door shut and slowly steps backwards and falls to the ground in a heap, tears rolling down his cheeks, his moment of self-pity is interrupted by the sound of clapping coming from the lounge room, he nervously turns his head and his rage intensifies, sitting on the couch is a smug looking Marcus.

    “You, you fucking prick, what have you done?” Damon yells as he scrambles to his feet and charges at Marcuse, who easily sends him crashing into the couch, he pushes Damon’s face into the pillows and pulls back violently on his arm.

    “I gave you what you asked for, nothing more,” Marcus says as he pulls back on Damon’s arm once more before he releases the emotional Damon to sink into the couch. “You wanted to go back to before the accident, knowing what you know now and I facilitated that, the accident will now never take place and your disability will never become, isn’t that what you asked for?”

    “You fucking twisted it all, this isn’t what I wanted, not exactly!”

    “Well, I’m sorry it isn’t exactly the way you wanted it, but it is what you asked for, and it’s what I gave you, the agoraphobia, that’s  not my problem, it wasn’t part of the deal, had you asked me to cure your agoraphobia you would still be sitting in your chair, jerking off to teenage girls on the internet.”

    “Fuck you, fix it, take me back!”

    “Sorry, that’s an impossibility, the stream has been changed, going forward is just impossible,” Marcus says. “But we have grander things to achieve, you and I.”

    “What the hell are you talking about, you expect me to help you now, well, that’s not going to happen, I’m going to sue you for everything, and believe me I’ve got the money to make the fight hurt you, more than it will hurt me.”

    Marcus laughs, “You had the money, when you were in your little den, feeling sorry about your little legs being all useless, but here, today, you have nothing but what your father gives you. Or have you forgotten that the accident that took your legs also removed everyone who stood in your way to the fortune your family made? Without the accident your father, mother and older brother still live, so you have nothing.”

    “You son of a fucking bitch you played me!” Damon yells as he forces himself to his feet, and Marcus shoves him, face first, back into the pillows of the couch.

    “You got what you wanted, now I take my payment, but, like I said, it’s nothing from you, I’m going to take your fathers fortune, and I’m going to leave you with nothing, sure I used you, but not because I needed what you had, you’re just collateral damage Damon, nothing more, nothing less,” he hisses in his ear and shoves him down as he walks across the room.

    “You won’t get anything, I’ll tell him everything, he’ll never deal with you, he’ll crush you and I’ll be the one laughing.”

    “It’s too late, the deal is almost done, and you, well, you’re not going to be bothering me one little bit, I mean, you’ve got a lot of things to deal with, and that agoraphobia, that’s got to be a bit to get on top of, I mean, do you know it sends some people so far over the edge they commit suicide?”

    “Are you threatening my life now?”

    Marcus laughs again, “I don’t need to threaten anything, I keep promises, that is all, nothing more, nothing less, I have this gift you see, well it’s not really a gift, it’s something entirely different, but it gives me the ability to travel through time, up here,” he says tapping his head. “All the memories, experiences, fears and dare I say, damage, that is done to the old noggin, well it follows you everywhere, like a bad smell, you can’t escape it, you can’t change it, you can only live with it, of course with some tweaking things can be eased, or as in your case, increased,” he says with a smile.

    “What, what do you mean increased? What the fuck have you done to me?” Damon yells as he rushes at Marcus and grabs him by the collar and slams him into the wall. “What have you done to me?”

    Marcus smiles, “You’ll find out soon enough,” he says as he raise his arm and looks at his watch. ”In fact, you should be finding out, right about… now.”

    Damon releases his grip on Marcus and falls to the floor screaming, clutching his head, “What h-have you d-d-d-done to m-m-me?” he yells.

    “Nothing, well actually, not nothing, I mean, in reality I’ve done a lot, but in your case, I really, didn’t do a lot, I just gave you a little something to help the walls close in, to help the sanity slip further away.”

    “Why, why d-d-d-do this? I-I-I-I’ll gi-give yo-ou-you it a-a-all, p-p-p-le-please,” Damon screams.

    “No, you won’t, we’ve been down this road before Damon, you may not remember it, but I do. That’s the glory of moving through time my friend, you can always hit replay.”

     

    TO BE CONTINUED

  • Day 18 – Phone Home – Short Story

    Day 18 – Phone Home – Short Story

    The small house shakes violently and Ollie tumbles off the couch and crashes into a pile of beer cans that litter the floor, he scrambles to his feet and looks around the room as everything vibrates vigorously, photos crash to the ground, furniture jitters around the room and the first thought that goes through Ollie’s alcohol frazzled mind is an earthquake so he awkwardly stumbles underneath an archway and braces himself, screaming at the top of his lungs. Suddenly bright lights shine through all the windows and from underneath all the outside doorways and the shaking stops. Ollie stands firmly underneath the archway and tries to make sense of it all, slapping himself across the face several times to make sure he is awake. He slowly creeps into the living room, shielding his eyes from the light when all the doors and windows crash in, showering the rooms of the house with splintered pieces of glass and wood. Ollie screams out in shock, and fear, as he dives to the ground and huddles into a ball, screaming at the top of his lungs for it all to stop, and then, as if on his commands, everything falls silent.

    Several moments pass before Ollie works up the courage to look up from where he sits, and he sees shapes moving in the light outside, Ollie’s frazzled brain at first deciphers the shapes as human and calls out, “Is that you Jethro?”

    But no answer comes and the shapes continue to move, now less resembling humans and more like bobble head figures, with three of them moving towards the door.

    “If you think you’re being funny Jethro, you’re not!” He yells out, and again waits for an answer, but still no answer comes. He swallows a dry, lumpy, pocket of air, “Is this because I told you about those stories about those fucking brain suckers? Are you trying to play with my head, you son of a bitch?” He yells as the three shapes make their way through the doorway, Ollie’s mouth drops open as the three beings, he can only describe as aliens enter the room.

    His look of shock turns to a look of excitement, “I knew it, I knew you fuckers were real, I knew I wasn’t losing my mind!” He yells as they slowly make their way towards him, and several more make their way in from the opposite side. “I knew I wasn’t imagining you pieces of shit, I knew you were coming in and doing all sorts of weird experiments on me, but this time you fuckers, this time I’m ready!” He yells as he pulls a lever next to the archway and metal gates drop from over the door ways and windows, sealing them all in, the aliens panic as Ollie laughs and pulls another lever and metal mesh nets fall from the ceiling, trapping the aliens underneath them as a gas is spewed out from ducts in the floor, and Ollie, he stands over them as they all slowly fade away into unconsciousness laughing, “Phone home now ET, phone home now!”

    One of the alien’s wake some time later and finds itself strapped to a table and frantically tries to free itself as Ollie walks out of the darkness with a circular saw in his hand, “What’s a matter ET, you scared somethings going to be shoved up your arse like you did to me? You got no worries about that ET, I just hope you’ve had all your shots, because I don’t know where this here shit’s been, but I sure god damn know where it’s going to go!” He yells as he starts up the saw.

     

    END

  • Day 17 – Lies Of A Broken World – Chapter One – Act IV

    Day 17 – Lies Of A Broken World – Chapter One – Act IV

    She sits on the edge of the bed and takes a drag on her cigarette, staring at the smashed screen in front of her. Dried blood covers her face and hands, the cowboy’s naked body lies on the floor, his stomach split open. She jumps as there is a knock at the door and quickly gets to her feet. Peering through the peephole, she lets out a relaxed breath and turns the handle as the woman barges her way in, almost knocking Sonya to the ground. She looks down at the body and lets out a groan of disappointment and frustration.

    “Shit Sonya it hasn’t even been twelve hours since they found the last poor fucker you gutted, I thought you promised me you were going to fucking give this a break, the whole fucking city is looking for you and you just keep fucking acting like you don’t give a shit!” The woman says as she throws a bag to the ground, next to the body.

    “He was the same as the rest, he fucking deserved it, they all fucking deserve what they get.”

    “They all do apparently, I notice the set, you obviously caught his little fuck you across the channels?”

    “He’s just pushing back, trying to goad me into making a mistake, but it’s not working, the fool failed at pushing any of my buttons.”

    “The set says something entirely different honey,” Sally says. “I know why you started this, but for the life of me I can’t understand why the fucking hell you’re still going at it, move on, you’ve done what you wanted to achieve, wasn’t that enough?”

    “No, it’s obviously not is it, he’s still out there, he’s still acting like he did nothing wrong, but so are they, the worthless fucks who prey on the weak.”

    “Honey, its game over time, just fucking kill him and be done with it all. Maybe then I can get back to some sort of normal life instead of waiting for the phone to ring as I’ve done for the past few weeks, you know I do have a life, and I’ve got better thing to do on a Saturday night, like my man, for instance, than cleaning up your shit.”

    “I know Sally, and I’m sorry, really, I am. But remember who signed on for this, you were the one who said you would help me, pushed me, forced me to let you in, and now that I have, you don’t want to be? I just can’t stop it, I’m saving everyone else from what I suffered, or even worse,” she says. “Why let them continue hurting others without a care when I can make sure their lies and deception end, with me.”

    “I know what I signed up for, but you’ve got to give me something back, you’ve done nothing to stop all this insane shit. Fuck, all I’ve become is your fucking clean up woman, which is bullshit by the way.”

    Sonya places a hand on Sally’s face and gently caresses her cheek, “You know you mean more than that to me.”

    Sally brushes her hand away, “Remind me why the fuck we’re still friends?”

    “Because, we are.”

    Sally looks deep into Sonya’s eyes, and her anger softens, and she smiles, “Look, I was serious before though, why don’t you just kill him, end it all and move on, be free of all this shit?”

    “I will, soon, I’ve just got a loose end or two to tie up and then his time will be up.”

    “What loose ends do you have beside him? We tracked all the fuckers from that night down at the start of all this, you’ve never mentioned anyone else.”

    “Her name is Maddison Gray.”

    “Who the fuck is Maddison Gray?”

    “She’s the one who’s responsible for everything in my life being shit, she’s the one who really needs to pay.”

    “So what the fuck are you wasting time with these stupid fucks for? Let’s go find this Maddison Gray bitch, and kill her.”

    “I don’t need to find her, I’ve always known where she is,” Sonya says. “I’ve never let her out of my site, not even for a minute”

    Sally jumps to her feet in frustration and excitement, “Then let’s go, fuck cleaning this piece of shit up, he can rot for all I care. Let’s go send this Maddison Gray to the grave and then take mister hot shot out once and for all, even if it’s just so I can get some fucking sleep.”

    Sonya looks up at Sally and smiles, “Maybe you’re right, maybe I need to stop sitting on this and just do it.” She gets to her feet and places a hand on Sally’s shoulder. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, without you I wouldn’t have come so far,” she says as she drives a blade deep into her stomach, Sally looks at her in horror. “Sorry,” she says as she pulls the blade up into her chest.

    Sally’s lifeless body crashes to the floor and Sonya looks down on her with sadness as she wipes away a tear as it runs down her face, ‘Don’t go losing it now, not when you’re so close. Let’s just get this over with and then Jackson, it’s going to be you and me in a race to the finish, a race I will win.’

     

    END OF CHAPTER ONE

  • Day 16 – The Chest – Short Story

    Day 16 – The Chest – Short Story

    She sits in the attic and stares at the large dusty, cobweb covered chest and nervously wipes them away from around the lock and places a key inside, and her heart skips a beat as it turns. For more years than she can remember her mother never let her near the chest, but in the last days of her life she told Clara that once she had passed she was to open the chest, and whatever she found inside was hers. Her father places a hand on her shoulder and she looks up at him, tears run down his face, she smiles and places a hand on his lap.

    “Are you sure, Mum never let me look inside it, never once, what was she hiding?”

    “Open it and see,” he says softly. “But remember what we talked about, remember what Mum said, don’t be afraid, just follow your heart.”

    “I know,” she says as she shuffles forward and opens the chest, a bright blue light shines from within, coming from a strange rock that sits next to a single letter and a photo, besides that the chest is empty, she looks back at her father and he nods his head.

    “Read it,” he says as he gets to his feet, she can see in his eyes he is uncomfortable.

    “Where are you going?”

    “Your mother was very particular about this part, she said you had to be alone when you read the letter,” he says. “I’ll go make us a brew,” he says as he shuffles out of the room.

    Slowly she reaches in and picks up the letter and the photo, it’s of her mother and her father, how young they both seemed, how happy they are. She feels something run through her body, a cold breeze, or something like that, and then she opens the letter up and begins to read.

    ‘My Dearest Clara,

    God, this sounds crazy, to be writing this letter, to tell you how important this moment is. No one should ever have to know what you are about to know, let alone believe, but this is for lack of a better word, the truth you need to know. The rock that sits in this chest is something remarkable, something amazing, and the journey you will take will be one that will not only change your life, but it will also create it. The photo you hold is of your father and I after we first met, destiny you could say played a hand in it all, and love. Before I met your father I knew there was something greater out there for me, something amazing, and like you are now, I had not yet found it until I met him. The rock made that happen, where did it come from? I don’t know, it just always was there, some paradox on time allowed it to happen, as it did you, I know, it’s hard to understand, it’s even harder to explain. But know this, my love for you is more than a mother’s love, and your father, his love for you is more than a father’s. Follow your heart, let destiny guide you and know that there is no mistakes, there is only fate.

     

    Love, always,

     

    Mum.’

    Clara sits and stares at the letter and then to the photo, realises for the first time how identical she looks like her mother, when she was younger, she places the letter and the photo on the floor and peers into the chest, at the strange glowing rock.

    “What are you trying to tell me Mum?” She says aloud as she reaches into the chest and picks up the rock, she feels a warmth spread through her body from the rock and then her head begins to spins violently and she crashes to the floor with a thud, as the blackness takes her she sees her father standing in the doorway of the attic.

    She must have laid there for hours before she regained consciousness, the moon now shining in through the attic window and she forces herself to her knees, the open chest sits in front of her and the rock, now black and cold sits in the centre of it. It’s then that she notices how clean the chest is, the cobwebs and dust gone, did her father clean it and leave her on the floor? She gets to her feet and walks towards the doorway, stopping for a moment, she looks around the room and notices how uncluttered the room is, and her mind races.

    “What is going on?” She says as she opens the door, as a young man opens the door from the other side as well, they both jump in shock and Clara crashes to the ground, she stares at him in shock and realises how familiar he looks, in fact, he looks like her father did in the photograph.

     

    END

  • Day 15 – A Secret – Short Story

    Day 15 – A Secret – Short Story

    He clutches his father’s hand tightly and wipes the tears from his eyes, he watches as his father, this man who has always been such a huge, strong man, relies now on machines to keep him alive. How quickly this all happened, only a day or two ago they were sitting out on his deck reminiscing about his mother, and now he lies in the bed, unmoving, as the machines constantly beep as they control most of his functions, including his breathing. A nurse comes into the room, and she checks over the machines, they lock eyes and she give him a faint smile, but her eyes show her separation, no real feeling in them, she smiles because she believes it’s the right thing to do. Henry tightens his grip on his father’s hand and returns her fake smile with his own.

    “Can I get you anything?” She asks, placing a hand on his shoulder.

    “No, thanks, I don’t need anything right now,” he replies, she nods her head and leaves them alone again, he feels his father grip his hand and he looks up and stares into his drug addled eyes, he lets more tears go and his father tightens his grip and his eyes widen, and he tries desperately to speak, but all the tubes going down his throat and up his nose make it impossible, tears run down his father’s face and then, he begins to violently spasm. Henry screams for the nurse to return as his father jerks back suddenly and then lies still and silent as the machines let out high pitch, unending squeals.

    The next few days are a blur for Henry, full of meetings he doesn’t want to be part of, visits from family member he hasn’t seen in years and his ex-wife constantly calling him to make sure he’s ok, the day of his father’s funeral is over quickly, more people he hasn’t seen for year, more hugs, kisses on the cheeks and offers of help with anything, but he just wants everyone to fade away and be alone, to grieve.

    He wakes to the sound of banging on the door and looks at his watch, three thirty-two in the morning, ‘Who the fuck?’ The banging continues and he slowly gets up off the couch and staggers to the door and opens it, his jaw drops, standing before him is his mother, she slaps him across the face and storms in the room, he stands there still dumbfounded.

    “Close the door,” she says abruptly. “We need to talk.”

    He closes the door slowly and turns back to face his mother, “I’m dreaming right?”

    “Sure if that’s going to make you feel better, sure, this is all a dream.”

    “OK, what the fuck?”

    “Language Henry, we never brought you up to have such a vile tongue, now tell me, why did you do it?”

    “Do it? Do what?”

    “Cremate him, why the hell did you cremate your fathers body?”

    “That was his decision, I followed all his instructions to the T, he requested cremation.”

    “Bullshit!” his mother says as she silently sits on the couch, a tear runs down her face.

    “What the hell is going on?” Henry asks as he sits in a chair opposite her.

    “Nothing, this is all a dream remember,” his mother says before she breaks down into tears, Henry is to her side instantly and cradles his mother. “Why, why would he do such a thing, why would he leave me?”

    “What is happening, mum, you died fifteen years ago, you left us remember, now you’re both gone, I’m the one alone.”

    “Stop thinking about yourself Henry, what you think you know and what you really know are two different things,” she replies as she wipes her face with a tissue. “I just want to know why he did it, did he leave anything, a letter, something you haven’t opened yet?”

    “Nothing, I cleaned out the house last week, there’s no letter, no nothing, only, well only except for this old family video that he gave to me the day he went into hospital,” he says as he picks the disc up from the coffee table.

    “Put it on,” she says urgently, Henry follows her instructions and the video plays, at first it’s what he expected, old family videos, from before his mother dies, then it cuts to his father, he looks concerned and stares down the barrel of the camera.

    “Hello son, I’m guessing you’re having a hard time dealing with everything right now, I wish there was some way I could help you deal with this all, but I can’t, what happened, well it had to happen. Know that I love you, without you, the last fifteen or so years would have been nothing. Hello Victoria, I’m assuming you’re watching this too, I can only guess how angry you must be feeling right now, how betrayed, but I need to explain mys actions, I need you both to understand why I did, what I did,” he says as he clears his throat and wipes a tear from his eye. “I guess the first important thing you need to know Henry is how your mother is sitting beside you, how she can be alive, I would assume she has told you little to nothing about what she is, what we are, she was never very good with details,” his mother lets out a small laugh and clutches Henry’s hand, he looks down then up into his mothers eyes, she meets his gaze and gently pats his cheek. “I would have given anything to have this discussion with you, but I’m weak, and tired, so this way I can just tell you and not be afraid. And I guess the best place to start it with the an old Norwegian fable about the Draugen, or Again Walker,” he mother presses pause on the video and turns to her son, she cups his face in her hand.

    “Are you sure you want to know what you really are?” she asks.

    “This is still all a dream, right?” he asks nervously.

     

    END

     

     

     

     

  • Day 14 – Lies Of A Broken World – Chapter One – Act III

    Day 14 – Lies Of A Broken World – Chapter One – Act III

    Sonya stands at the bar and looks around the room, as soon as she locks eyes with him, she knows that tonight, he is the one, she can feel it between her legs, becoming moist at the thought of his touch. He casually makes his way towards her, both exchanging smiles.

    “What’s a pretty thing like you, doing in a shithole like this?” he asks as he leans up against the bar, next to her.

    “Not very original,” she says with a playful smile. “I would’ve thought someone like you could’ve come up with something more original to get me to go home with you.”

    He lets out a laugh, “Honey, taking you home is the last thing on my mind. I was thinking we just head out back and I smash that fucking gorgeous arse of yours until you can’t walk.”

    “You think you’re that good?”

    “Eight inches good,” he says with a broad smile.

    “Well, Mister Eight Inches Good, why don’t we leave this shithole, as you call it, and get better acquainted with each other elsewhere?”

    “Fuck honey, I know you won’t believe it, but I just grew another two inches,” he says as he holds out his hand for her to take.

    “Cowboy, you better have something mighty fine to replace all this hot air you’ve been filling me up with,” she says as she takes his hand.

    “Honey, you’ve never seen anything like what I’ve got between my legs, I can guarantee that.”

     

    #

     

    Pine Crest Cemetery has been for the last 85 years a place where Law Enforcement officers who die in the line of duty call their final resting place. Superstition keeps most of the current officers away as it shows them what their future will eventually become and they believe in some small way this place is haunted by the ghosts of their past, the ones who never made it out, survivor’s guilt for most of it. For Gary, tonight is not the night to avoid the future or the past, he kneels at the base of a headstone and lays flowers beside it, he gently wipes away the dead flowers and grass that’s grown around the plaque, the words ‘Louise Melissa Jackson’ are written across the front of it. Gary takes a deep breath and sits down facing the headstone.

    “Hi baby, you wouldn’t believe what sort of day I’ve had and I’m sorry I haven’t been to visit lately, it’s been pretty tough for me these past few months, I’ve got this psycho who keeps raking up the bodies and this city just keeps getting worse. I feel like I’m losing more of myself each day, losing who I was, I just wanted to come and let you know I still love you, and I think of you every day and one day I hope after all this is over, I’ll have done enough to earn my place by your side.”

    Gary’s phone begins ringing and he pulls it out of his pocket, “Sorry it’s Danny,” he says as he answers it. “Do I need to even guess why you’re calling me?”

    “I don’t think you should, tenths and seventh, you can’t miss us.”

    “Ok, I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he hangs up the phone and looks into her disappointed eyes. “Don’t look at me like that, you know the last thing I want to do is go.”

    “I know, but it’s who you are, it’s why I loved you.” she says.

    “Next year, I’ll stay longer, I promise.”

    “You don’t need to keep coming to see me, it wasn’t your fault what happened.”

    “I don’t blame myself, I just never want to forget you,” Gary says as he wipes the tears from his face, he kisses his index finger and middle finger and presses them against the headstone.

     

    #

     

    Detective Sergeant Brian Wishwilson gets out of his cruiser and walks over to the deserted Lucaston Lookout and lights up a cigarette, he takes a long drag and relaxes as the drug hits where it needs to.

    “You know those things will kill you?” a voice says from out of the shadows.

    “Plenty of things will kill you” Wishwilson replies. “Strange place for a meeting, not the usual spot.”

    “That’s because I’m not your regular contact.”

    “So why the urgent call, the boss getting jumpy because of the shit that went down last week?”

    “No, your boss, as you call him, is unaware of our little meeting detective. This is about you!” the man replies as he walks out of the shadows, dressed in black and holding a blaster towards Wishwilson.

    “What the fuck?” Wishwilson goes for his blaster, but the man fires a shot that rips through his shoulder and sends him crashing to the ground. “Do you realise who I am, what you’re doing?”

    “I know exactly who you are, so let’s have a talk about how dirty a cop you are.”

     

    #

     

    “I wish I had something new to tell you,” Danny says as he gets to his feet and stands beside Gary. “I hated calling you in, but I know you would have been more annoyed if I hadn’t.”

    “It’s OK, over the last few years, if anything, she understands what I do, and she doesn’t hold it against me.”

    “So where do we go from here, this sick fuck is a few steps away from being one of the worst serial killers we’ve dealt with in the last eight years, Gleeson mentioned pressure from upstairs earlier, but he pushed back because he doesn’t want to send the killer in a spin if you are taken off the case.”

    “I know, Tralmane stuck his nose in earlier today, sniffed around like the piece of shit he is and then scurried away, Divisional won’t touch this unless it goes all kinds of sideways.”

    “How long do you recon that will be?”

    “A week, maybe less, our killer is fulfilling something, but the way the kills changed, the way they’ve evolved into what they are now, they are going to push the boundaries, challenge us more.”

    “So you’re thinking our little friend is going up the ante?”

    “Has to, everything evolves, and our killer will as well.”

    “Then you’ve got to crack this case before they do.” A voice says from behind, Gary and Danny turn to face Superintendent Bill Gleeson, head of District-Three. The spotlight shines off his bald head as he runs a hand through his goatee, standing just over six feet tall and with the build of a man who enjoys his food, makes his silhouetted form look intimidating.

    “Our killer needs to give us something first,” Gary replies.

    “Or you give them something.”

    “What are you thinking?”

    “I’m thinking you do what you do best, piss them off,” Gleeson says as he points towards the news crews that stand on the outskirts of the police barrier. “I normally wouldn’t recommend it, and I’m not, but it’s an opportunity to push buttons I know you push well.”

    “You’re the boss, and I expect the back lash I’m going to get will be minimal?”

    “As minimal as I can make it, you get a result then it will disappear for good.”

    Gary strides over to the media and they go into a frenzy, screaming out questions, fighting to get towards him and Gary holds up his hands.

    “Steady on, this is going to be quick and to the point, so I hope you’re all ready because I’m not answering questions. This is directed at the piece of shit who you’ve called the Sunset Slasher. I’m going to get you, and when I do, the law is not going to be in the same room as you and I. In that room I will beat your pathetic, fat little face into a pulp, your little taunts, they don’t and will never scare me, and if you had balls you would come and face me you limp dick piece of shit.” With that he walks back towards Gleeson and Danny, the media screaming questions at Gary, but their words fall of deaf ears as he cares nothing for what they wish to know.

     

    END OF ACT III

  • Working With The Flow

    Working With The Flow

    I decided that all the pretty little headers are nothing more than a distraction, and in some way, a time waster. If you can believe this, The Truck header took longer to get right than it took me to actually write the story. So after a few moments to think I decided that instead I will have a set standard header that will run through all the shorts, the YouChallenge shorts will have a different coloured version, but it will be of the same template. The only variation of course will be Lies of a Broken World, that will keep the header based off the books actual cover art. So let’s continue this adventure, week three begins tomorrow, so no time to sit and reflect yet, let’s get to six months before we do that.

    Matt

  • Day 13 – Short Cut – YouChallenge Short Story

    Day 13 – Short Cut – YouChallenge Short Story

    He pushes the bikes throttle to the maximum as he tears down the street, his heart thumping in his chest viciously as he rides more on instinct than awareness. The numbers displayed on the inside of his helmet continue to count down and he tries to push the bike harder, faster, but he knows he is too far behind the clock now, and he only has one option, he has to go left, through the Unclassed Zone. He slams the bike around the next corner and keeps the throttle down as he powers through the gates with a crash, the front wheel wobbles violently as he tries to regain control and that’s when he spots them, limbering towards him, and he closes his eyes tightly as he slams into them, they are thrown left and right as the bike goes crashing to the ground, and the rider rolls with the crash and quickly scrambles to his feet as more of them come from out of the darkness. He pulls out a metal rod and charges towards his still purring bike as one of the three he ran into lunges for him, he smashes it across the face with the rod, knocking it to the ground, and pulls his bike back up onto it’s two wheels…

    If you want to read the final version of this short story, and thirty others, follow the link below, or join the mailing list and get a copy for free!

    TWISTED ROADS – AN ANTHOLOGY OF TWISTED TALES – VOLUME 1

    The world is but a twisted globe, spinning round and round, allowing light to breathe life onto its weary bones. But, where there’s light, there’s always darkness, and hiding in the shadows are things our imagination cannot even begin to understand. So buckle up and venture forward on a journey through thirty-one short stories, stories bathed in blood, stories dipped in darkness, stories that will take you through the veil of sanity and onto the twisted roads of madness.

    Available to buy in ebook or paperback format from Amazon HERE, (please make sure your geographical location is set to your country so you can purchase a copy) as well as all other ebook suppliers.

    This book is FREE to all mailing list subscribers.

    To subscribe, press HERE!

  • Day 12 – My Design – Short Story

    Day 12 – My Design – Short Story

    He feels his face and grimaces with pain, the deep cut under his eye flows freely with blood, he places the sleeve of his jumper over his hand and presses it against the wound. Next to him lies the body of his attacker, his cold, dead eyes staring at him. For what seems like forever he holds the dead man’s gaze until he shuffles slowly to his feet, the blood soaked knife still tightly in his grip. He lets out a moan as he falls back against the wall, dropping the knife, he feels the sharpness of the blade as it tears into his foot, but everything freezes into place as he hears movement coming from beyond a metal door to his right. His heart races a million miles an hour and his breathing picks up its pace as his eyes shift to the doors handle, watching it as it slowly turns, he grits his teeth and crouches down, pulling the knife from his foot. The door swings open and she stands there, in the doorway, silhouetted by the lights behind her, he sucks in a breath and holds it, in awe of her beauty, tonight seeing her for the first time tonight as she truly is. He lets out a primeval cry and charges towards her, but in his weakened state he is no match for her and she easily out manoeuvres his attack and sends him crashing to the ground, the knife tumbling out of his grip and skidding across the floor.

    “Seriously, is this how you choose to deal with this? You should have run, you should have stayed hidden, like the piece of shit you are,” she says, sarcasm dripping from her words.

    “What else did you expect me to do? You threw me away like I was nothing, like I was a piece of garbage, after everything I did for you, everything I taught you, everything I gave you, what else should I have done?”

    “You never gave me anything, all you did was take, take, take and then when there was nothing else to take you still tried, you should have let the darkness swallow you, instead of coming back,” she says as she drives a knee into the back of his neck, grabbing a hand full of hair and pulling his head back and placing a blade to his throat. “He was my father!”

    “Only by blood, I’m your true father, not that pathetic corpse!”

    “You had no right, you’re a disease Milian, a disease that needs to be cured with this blade, I made it, just like you taught me,” she says as she digs the blade into his throat.

    “You’re nothing without me, I made you, everything you are is because of me not them, I freed you from what you would have become, another pathetic waste of human flesh. Do it, kill me and see where your life leads you little fox, see what you have left without me!”

    “You stole me from my family, you abused me, you used me, brainwashed me into believing your way was the right way, that I was called into this depraved life for a reason.But you were wrong, you see, you may have taught me how to kill, how to survive, but you never made me, you just unlocked a part of me I kept hidden, a part of me that was always there!” She says as she slices the blade across his throat, then drives it through the centre of his skull. His body jerks violently for a few moments, but she keeps her knee firmly planted in his back and only releases it once he goes still and lifeless. She gets to her feet and wipes the blade on the back of his jumper and looks down upon the body of the man she’s called many things over the years since he stole her from her bed so many years ago, but she never called him father. He thought he was creating a disciple, a follower, but in the end all he really created was a weapon, a weapon that was only made to serve one purpose, and that purpose had now been fulfilled.

    END

  • Day 11 – All Good Plans – Short Story

    Day 11 – All Good Plans – Short Story

    She digs her fingernails into the floorboards and drags herself closer towards the doorway and looks over her shoulder in desperation, over at his still unmoving body that lies a few feet away. She reaches out again and drags herself closer to the door as a foot comes stomping down onto her hand and she screams in agony, he is on her quickly, grabbing a large handful of hair he smashes her head into the floor several time before she goes limp.

    “Fucking bitch,” he says as he drives a boot into her side. “Thought you could fuck with me, thought you could make me suffer, well suffering is the only thing you’re going to be doing now you piece of shit!” He says as he drives another boot into her.

    Five minutes earlier…

    She smiles at him as she brushes the hair from her eyes, “So, what do you think?”

    “I’m not sure, it’s a big risk,” he says as he looks up from the piece of paper. “I mean, I can see you’ve done all the calculations, allowed for everything that could go wrong. But there’s still so many things that could not work, we don’t need more pressure right now, not like this.”

    “Don’t be a chicken, there’s no way this can fail, not if we follow the plan.”

    “Your plans not full-proof, there’s so much that could go wrong, we could end up losing everything and then what are we going to do?”

    “We’ll work it out,” she says as she gets up from her seat. “We just can’t keep going on this way, talking about what could be, let’s just fucking do it.”

    “I don’t know Sammy, we could totally fuck it up, it needs to be something simple, something where we have total control, I just think your plan is too crazy to work.”

    “Bullshit,” she says as she pushes him. “This is a sure fire plan Tommy, there’s no way it could go wrong!”

    “Sammy, baby, we…” A loud crash comes from the room opposite and they both freeze in place, and stare towards the doorway. Tommy picks up a revolver from the table and looks at Sammy as he slowly gets up from his seat and makes his way towards the door.

    “Don’t damage him, he’s not worth anything dead.”

    “I know alright, just shut up,” he says as he places a hand on the door handle and takes a deep breath before he pulls it open, and they both stare into the darkness beyond, but it’s all too late that Tommy notices the wooden post that lurches from out of the darkness and crashes down on to his skull, sending him crashing to the floor in a heap. Sammy turns and heads frantically towards the other doorway as the man steps out of the room and hurtles the post at her, it cracks her in the back of the head and she hits the floor with a violent thud. Desperately she reaches out and digs her fingernails into the floorboards as she tries to drag herself to the doorway.

    Now…

    Sammy awakens to a world of pain and confusion, for a few moments she just sits there in silence as her brain tries to fill her in on what’s happening, but it’s when she tries to move she finds herself bound tightly to a chair. She looks up frantically and sees a bloody and beaten Tommy tied to a chair opposite and in-between them he sits, with the revolver in his hand and a smug smile on his face.

    “I wouldn’t worry too much about lover boy there, he’s not coming back anytime soon, I’d worry more about yourself, because sugar, I’ve got so many things to show you,” he says with a grin.

     

    END

  • Day 10 – Lies Of A Broken World – Chapter One – Act II

    Day 10 – Lies Of A Broken World – Chapter One – Act II

    He stands underneath the shower, letting the water wash away his sins, his body scarred and bruised, he feels a hand slide around his chest from behind, and then her naked body pressing up against him.

    “Did you really need to break my finger?” she asks as she runs her hand down over his stomach and begins to slowly caress his member. “Not that I’m complaining, it got me fucking wet, but my finger? How the fuck am I going to explain that tomorrow?”

    “Honey I don’t care, but just so we’re on the same page, you know you’re fucked up right?”

    “You joined in and you have the nerve to call me fucked up?”

    “I call it as I see it, but I’m not stupid enough to pass up a fine thing like you,” he says with a smile.

    “Well I’m happy I made your night,”

    “Honey, you made me very happy,” he grabs her hand and starts rubbing his hardening member against it.

    She releases him and takes a step backwards and he turns around and takes a step towards her, his eyes wide and full of desire, she places a hand on his chest and pushes him away. “Keen for more are we?”

    “Honey, if you want to take it rough again I’m happy to accommodate.”

    “Lover what makes you think I want it rough, maybe I might like it with a bit of passion this time instead of aggression?” She says as she steps back towards him and places a hand on his chin, caressing his cheek, he closes his eyes and buries himself in her hand.

    “I’ll take you anyway you’re willing to let me?”

    “I can see that,” she says as she grabs hold of his hard member and slowly beings to run her hand up and down the shaft.

    “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

    “Neither have you,” she says as she presses herself against him and kisses him passionately, he pulls her away and they look deeply into each other’s eyes, the water washing over them both. He feels the coldness of it first, and then the pain. Looking down he sees the knife sticking from his stomach and his blood washing into the drain, he looks up at her, speechless. She returns his look of shock and confusion with a wry smile, and rips the knife upwards, opening his stomach up like a fish. He tries in vain to say something, but only ends up choking on his own blood, all the while, she continues to smile. As his legs begin to give way he desperately tries to hold himself up against her, but she shoves him away, sending him crashing to the floor, smashing his face on the tiles, black flashes begins to slowly fill up his vision and then nothing.

     

    #

     

    Gary takes a large mouthful of his drink and places the glass back on the table, he looks across into the smiling face of the man sitting opposite, Andrew Fontanie, Gary’s former partner for eight years and best friend since he was six, he looks half Gary’s age, but with less hair and in the eight months since he was forcibly removed from District-Three his once well keep physical appearance has dissolved somewhat into a few extra pounds around his stomach, but nothing life threatening as he always says. In his own words, he’s enjoying the stress free life and getting ready for the day when he can’t afford to eat, and then the extra fat will come in handy.

    “If I knew you were going to suck the soul out of the room I wouldn’t have invited you along, obviously this Slasher case is still winding you up, like a fucking windy little fucking toy thing, you know what I’m talking about.” Fontaine says as he slams his glass into the table.

    “Shut the fuck up, it’s just annoying the fuck out me, I mean seriously, there is no fucking readable system this fucker is following.”

    “OK, so let’s go over it again, most of the victims are unconnected, some of them have rap sheets, and some don’t. You have men, women and even a transgender thrown in there for good measure and let’s mention the best part, the killer offs their victims the exact same way every time.”

    “No every time, the first few kills were more brutal, like the killer really took their time, and then they started to evolve into what we have now.”

    “OK, right, so the first kills meant something to our killer, these guys, four of them right?”

    “Yep, four pieces of shit, Mike Jarvice, Lenny Farr, Pop Johnson and Derrick Sarcivic.”

    “Right, anyway, the four of them, they had some connection to our killer, and what, we decided they obviously did something fucked up to our psycho, something bad enough to warrant a beating before they stuck them like a pig.”

    “Most obvious conclusion.”

    “Right and the best part about these dropkicks is that the four of them have rap sheets, predominantly for assault and rape, and hung in the same circles.”

    “So did victim number eight, Harry Thorpe, he had connections to all four and minor connections to the last two, who were also connected to Lenny.”

    “So there’s our system,” Fontaine says as he empties the remainder of his glass into his mouth.

    “We know there’s a system, but what the fuck are we supposed to do to stop it, put a track on all the fuckers who have a rap sheet that have had some connection with any of the victims?”

    “That’s the only answer,” Fontaine says as he turns around towards the bar. “Janey, have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

    “Every day Fontaine, every day, you need another two?” she replies

    “You know how to get into my pants.”

    “Pity for you I’m not that easy.”

    “Will not stop me from trying my love,” Fontaine says as he turns back to Gary, who looks more distressed than before, he turns back around to the bar. “Can you make it four pumpkin, my friend here needs some sobering up.”

    “Well he’s going about it the wrong way.”

    “That’s what I told him, but as you can see, he’s a bit bigger than me, so I’ll pass on the arguing,” Janey laughs and he feels Gary’s eyes burn into the back of his head.

    “You’re not that funny,” Gary says, Janey places the drinks on the table.

    “Ignore him Gary, I do,” she says with a smile.

    “One day, Janey, one day you’ll be mine and then..”

    “Then I’ll take everything I can and divorce you like the rest,” she says, Gary lets out a laugh and slaps Fontanie on the back.

    Fontaine smiles, “What can I say, when she’s right, she’s right. Anyway, the next time you get a call out let me come with, it’s better to see the work in the flesh than in pictures.”

    “You know what happened last time, Bill lost his shit.”

    “Yeah I know, old fart, still I’m better off away from the controlling eyes of Divisional, doing my own thing, being my own boss. You know, not having someone come down on you when three high profile suspects turn up dead, shit like that.”

    “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about, and the old fart kept you out of the freezer, if you remember, if he hadn’t of swept all the shit that happened with the Gillespie brothers under the carpet neither of us would be here.”

    “He only did it because he knew you were involved, otherwise he would’ve sent my arse to the freezer instead of sending me out the door, we both know that. Oh and did I mention the old prick ripped me of my pension?” Fontaine says as he pours one of his drinks down his throat until empty.

    “Yes you have, many fucking times, but he still did us a favour,” Gary says as he gets to his feet.

    “OK, I get it, let it go Andrew, relax Andrew, I’m with you big guy, I’m there. But you don’t need to leave, I mean I don’t really want to come along to the next body anyway, it’s never any fun.”

    “I said when you called me I had things to do tonight, so I could only stay for a few, a few has passed and I have somewhere to be.”

    “Oh shit, it’s the twenty-eighth, I totally didn’t realise.”

    “It’s OK, don’t worry about it, but I’ll talk to you later, when you’re sober,” Gary says as he quickly exits the bar.

    “Good, sober means tomorrow, I think. Well my lovely I guess it’s just me and you for the rest of the evening,” Fontaine says as he turns to the bar, but Janey is nowhere to be seen. A puzzled Fontaine turns back around and looks at the three full glasses. “Well I guess it’s just you three and me for the rest of the evening,” he says as he picks up one of the glasses.

     

    END OF ACT II

  • Day 09 – Stay Classy – Short Story

    Day 09 – Stay Classy – Short Story

    Stay classy, what the fuck is it supposed to mean? I mean seriously, when some fucking numb skull gives you a wink and says, stay classy kid, how the fuck are you supposed to take it? OK, I guess to really understand it’s meaning you really have to know what sort of situation it was used in, then you’d know what it was used to reference, confused? Well let me give you a quick rundown on my experience, and it starts and ends with local mobster, Frank Galboni. You see, old Frank gave me a wink and a click of his fingers and said those fucking words, stay classy, all while two of his goons had their pistols embedded in either side of my skull. Did I deserve to be in a position like that? Yeah maybe, see only a few short minutes before all this took place I was one finger deep inside his eighteen year old daughter while her twenty year old sister blew me off, as I let lose my seed in her mouth Frank walked in and well that’s how I ended up on my knees, dick out and pistols to the head. That’s when it all happened, as he was walking away he turned to me, winked, clicked his fingers and said, stay classy kid. Now I’ve got to be honest, those words confused the fuck out of me because I couldn’t figure out if he was secretly patting me on the back for scoring the way I had with his two daughters, I mean everyone knows Galboni likes to play around on his wife with as many pieces of tail as he can. Not that his wife complains, she knows what he does, but she wants for nothing, and she can have anyone she wants, when she wants, and I know it’s true, because I’ve been there. Two night before all this I turned up because an old pal of mine worked for Galboni and was trying to help me get some work. Anyway, the next thing I know I’m face deep between her legs, covered in her juices as she’s slobbering over my cock. Galboni didn’t have a problem with me that night, he even gave me a job out of how well I serviced his wife, so why crack the shits over me doing his daughters? But that’s all here nor there, the worst part is that I knew I should’ve just kept my mouth shut, but I needed to know what he meant by the stay classy remark, especially before his two goons put their bullets into my skull, so I took a quick breath and called out.

    “Mister Galboni, can I ask a question before your boys make a mess out of my head?” I called out, Galboni took his hand off the door handle and after a few seconds he turned around and stared me down.

    “What?”

    “The stay classy line, I’ve got to ask. Did you mean it as a good thing, like you did good kid, I liked the way you scored with those bitches, or did you mean it in a sarcastic, Al Capone, your dead, sort of way?”

    “Seriously kid, did you just call my baby girls bitches?”

    “I know, I know, it shouldn’t be what’s worrying me, I know it should be your boys and their toys that should be my real concern. But fuck me, I can’t get past that stay classy comment, please, you’ve got to let me know what you meant?”

    “Kid, it meant nothing, it’s just a fucking saying, you stupid fuck!” He yelled as he drove the baseball bat down onto my head, I still don’t ever remember seeing him pick it up, but obviously he must have, from somewhere. Anyway, I felt the first two hits, and they hurt like fucking hell, but after that it was pretty much nothing. Although I did get to see the old fucker keel over after he brought the tenth swing of the bat down on my smashed in head. Seems the godfather had a bad ticker and it just fucking stopped, too much stress I presume and the fucker fell face down, in a puddle of my blood, dead as a door nail. But I’ll tell you something, he looked fucking classy all the way.

     

    END

  • Day 08 – The Truck – Short Story

    Day 08 – The Truck – Short Story

    She runs a hand through her hair and grips a clump of it in frustration and looks across the table at him, he smiles uncomfortably at her, showing a mouthful of rotten teeth.

    She clears her throat before she speaks again, “Can we start at the beginning, again?” She says.

    “What do you mean by the beginning? Before or after everything went to shit?”

    “Let’s start with how you found this truck you keep talking about?”

    “I told you before honey cups, I just woke up and it was there, there’s not much else to tell, I’d love to have some fantastic story that would excite and intrigue you, but real life’s just not like that.”

    “Just humour me and tell me what you remember from that morning, after you woke up?”

    “If it’s going to float your boat honey, I’ll tell you one more time, I woke up, felt great, actually I felt the best I ever had, and I was buff, I’m talking massive fucking muscle growth over night and on top of that I looked hot, fucking still do,” he says as he flexes his arm and kisses his flabby chicken wing bicep, she feels her stomach churn with disgust. “Anyway I went and took a piss, and almost passed out from shock when I pulled the python out. I did mention the beast has grown a whole eight and a half whole inches down there as well?”

    “Yes, you’ve somehow managed to mention it twelve times so far.”

    “Good, it’s like a major lynch pin of the story, anyway, after I picked myself up from the floor I stroked one out, as any normal man would and grabbed a coffee and went outside for a smoke. That’s the first time I saw it, just sitting there, the engine was on and she was just purring, really sweet like. In fact, I don’t think I told you the last time, but I stroked another one out then and there, on her hood.”

    “No you never mentioned that before, but it doesn’t surprise me,” she says as she squirms in her seat.

    “Hey honey, when the mood hits only an empty man would resist, and by empty I don’t mean in the ball sack,” he says flashing his mouthful of rotten teeth again and clutching his balls. “Anyway I looked in the trailer and couldn’t believe what I saw, it was just simply amazing, basically a mobile hotel, I wandered around the rooms for about half an hour, but found no one anywhere on board. So I poured another cup of coffee, had another smoke, stroked one more out of the beast and decided to take the truck for a spin.”

    “Didn’t you worry about the owner?”

    “Honey I’d just woken up, had gone from a 60 kilo weakling to a one fifty kilo hard bodied, hung like a horse, love God, why question anything at that stage of the day?”

    “Because any sane person would?”

    “Honey, it like questioning why the moon shines at night even though it’s just a rock.”

    “It’s the suns reflections that makes the moon glow.”

    “See, I don’t care for your answer, because honestly, I don’t care.”

    “Being ignorant of the answers does not make you right, and I can’t just accept this truck was just there, someone must have driven it outside your house, it couldn’t have just, just been there, don’t you see how impossible it all sounds, isn’t there part of you that realised it’s all wrong?”

    “Why, because you say so?”

    She grits her teeth and cleanses one of her hands into a fist and takes a deep breath, “Look, let’s just get back to your story, you’d decided to take the truck for a drive, what happened next?”

    “Well, obviously I noticed shit wasn’t right, the city was fucked, like a nuke hit it, and that’s when I came across Sophie, Deborah and Lynette.”

    “Who did what, they told you about the apocalypse happening?”

    He laughs for a few moments before settling back in his chair, “No way honey, they told me I looked like a gift from the heavens and we all fucked a few times to Billy Idols Flesh For Fantasy, always sets the scene that song, gets the guys hard and the girls wet. Anyway after that we set out looking for other survivors.”

    “You had sex, with all three?”

    “Honey, you know it,” he says with a smile bobbing his head back and forth, playing what can be described as an air guitar and starts singing, “Face to face, and back to back, you see and feel, my sex attack, sing it, flesh, flesh for fantasy, we want, flesh, flesh….”

    “Please, can we stay on track,” she interrupts. “Honestly, don’t you see how absurd this all sounds?”

    “Damn straight I do,” he says as he leans back in his seat. “But when life throws you diamonds you don’t throw them back.”

    “So for the record, where are we at the moment? In the truck?”

    “No, do we look like we’re in a truck? Can you feel the motor purring under your arse, getting you all tingly in the right spots?”

    She blushes and clears her throat, “So, where are we?”

    “A shitty little diner called Lumps Shack, we were passing through and Trudy spotted you sitting here, staring off into space.”

    “Trudy? Does she drive the truck?”

    “No way, Trudy went to school with me, although back then she never wanted a thing to do with me, like the rest of the women we’ve picked up along the way, well the ones I knew before? But hey, since the apocalypse happened, they’ve all spent more time on top of me than they ever did anyone else. But she don’t drive,” he laughs. “Actually none of them do, unless you’re talking about the python, they all drive at least once every few days. It’s either me or one of the other guys who do the driving and it just so happened that today I was driving while Trudy was giving me head, she just finished wiping her mouth when she spotted you,” he says with a smile.

    “Who are the other guys?”

    “You know, the other guys, they look after all the shit I don’t.”

    “Yes, but what are their names? You reel off your female companions names without a thought, but yet you can’t name one of these supposed other males who assist you, can’t you see how illogical that sounds?”

    “Honey, none of them touch my junk so why should I know their names? And seriously sweet pea,” he says as he leans forward on to the table. “Why keep asking all these questions for anyway? All I wanted to know was, did you want a free ride on my truck?” He says, leaning back in his seat with a big, rotten grin. “What do you think this is anyway, a psych evaluation?”

    “What do you think this is?”

    “I normally like a girl in control honey, but you’re way out there, like fucking way, way out there. But to answer your question, what we’re having is called a conversation, nothing else, not what you’re making it out to be anyway.”

    “I’m not the one who’s living in a world where the apocalypse has happened, which by the way you can’t explain, and you somehow impossibly came across an enormous truck that you drive around in, picking up gorgeous women and living the life of Hugh Hefner to Billy Idol music.”

    “Honey, Hugh’s got nothing on me, but your right about the rest. You see, your problem is you don’t want to believe it, you want to stay in the world inside your head. One where everything is still all ok, and not fucked up and shit, like it really is. But it’s OK, because you’re not the first one we’ve came across and you won’t be the last, it’s just up to you how we move forward.”

    “What does that mean?”

    “Whether you stay here, in your little word, or you come with us?”

    “I’m afraid you’re barking up the wrong tree, I know what’s real and what’s insane stories from a crazy man.”

    “Honey, crazy is just an illusion, fuck, we breathe air, but if we were to truly try to understand how it works it would sound insane, right?”

    “Seriously, trees make oxygen you idiot.”

    “For starters, when was the last time you saw a tree? And secondly, really trees make oxygen? Doesn’t that sound crazy, I mean, do you really believe trees make oxygen? Fuck, are you really that far gone inside your head that you’re so blind to what’s happening around you? Because if so, you honey, are one damaged piece of arse.”

    She gets to her feet and looks down at him, and takes off her glasses, “I think I’ve had enough of your insults.”

    “Honey, I haven’t insulted you half as much as I’ve wanted too.”

    “Good bye, Mister Liewus,” she says as she exits the room, waiting outside is a man in a dark suit and he looks at her with concern.

    “So what’s your verdict?”

    “Whatever world he’s invented inside his dim witted brain is real to him, and it’s going to take a lot of drug therapy and one on one work to help break down the walls and star…..”

    “Hello??” He says as he waves his hands in front of her expressionless face, but she continues to stare off into nothingness, muttering to herself, he turns to the three woman who stand in the door way of the run down café and shrugs his shoulder in confusion.

    “Let’s just leave her, she’s not coming out of whatever hole she’s put herself in,” he says as he looks back at her again and places a hand on her breast and squeezes it, but still she just sits there, continuing to mumble away to herself.

    He turns to the women and smiles. “Who’s up for some Billy Idol?” He says as he chases the women into the massive trailer that awaits outside the café, as the door slams the truck’s engine roars to life and blows its horn several times before taking off, out into the desolate wasteland.

     

    END

  • Day 07 – Lies Of A Broken World – Chapter One – Act I

    Day 07 – Lies Of A Broken World – Chapter One – Act I

    Sunset Heights has, for many years, been one of those Downtown suburbs that draws attention to itself for all the wrong reasons, its past is littered with stories of violence and death, stories that make you wonder why people keep living here.

    Examples of the insanity it attracts can be found scattered throughout the years, such as in twenty-one eighty-one when serial arsonist Teddy Holloway started four hundred and twenty-seven fires within a single hour, burning two hundred and two people to death before he was apprehended and put on ice for eighty-five years.

    Or two short years later when former Divisional Sergeant turned junky, Ricky Lincoln, was visited by God and given the mission of thinning downtown of its ever growing population after a night of overindulging on a bad batch of the party drug JoyTwoTheWorld. He massacred one hundred and eighty-six people during his reign of insanity, his kill count would have been more if it wasn’t for the fact that enforcement officers cornered him in a local arcade, he took five officers with him before he turned his blaster on himself.

    There are more stories like these ones, but we will save them for another day as we concentrate on the here and now. The here and now being the end of twenty-one eighty-five, and Sunset Heights has found itself in the grip of a new terror, a terror the media have named ‘The Sunset Slasher.’ Over the past sixteen days this Slasher has racked up a body a day and shows no signs of stopping anytime soon. So far the usual age, race, sex or religious beliefs are non-existent as the Slashers targets seem random, as if the killer is picking their victims names out of a hat, leaving no pattern to follow and tonight, the Slasher prepares to strike again.

    He stands there silently, looking out of the window, mesmerized by the city, it calls to him, tells him all the lies it knows he wants to hear. A cold shiver runs through his body and he places a hand against his forehead, letting out a long, deep breath. He can feel it, calling to him, the want, no wait, not the want, the need, the need is calling him, pulling at him again and again, and he feels hopeless against it. A droplet of sweat runs down his face, quickly followed by several more, he turns from the window and looks around the room, at her, she lies sleeping in the bed, unaware of his need.

    He stands there for what seems like an eternity, studying every facet of her face, her shape beneath the covers, as if this is the first time he has ever really looked at her, even though he knows it’s not. He comes back to reality with a jolt as she moves, and slowly begins to open her eyes, she notices his dark shape silhouetted against the light from the city beyond her window, and her eyes shoot open wide and she lets out a scream of terror before he is upon her, muffling her cries with a large hand.

    “Don’t make me hurt you, Sonya!” he says as he forces her back down onto the bed, she struggles and he grabs her right hand and snaps her index finger back, she writhes in agony. “The next thing I’ll break will be your neck if you don’t fucking cooperate.”

    She slowly stops wriggling, tears running down her face, she stares at him, her eyes pleading with him to let her go.

    “Better,” he says as he releases her hand and looks down at her, slowly running his hand through her hair, brushing it from her face. “Why do we always find our way back here?” He pulls the sheets back and runs his rough hand up along her body, coming to a stop on her breast, he takes a handful and squeezes it firmly. “Now we’re going to play a little game, the more you cooperate, the less I hurt you, nod to show me you understand?”

    She nods her head in understanding, and he smiles.

    “Good,” he says as he bites down into her shoulder, slobbering over her with his lust, “Grab me,” he says, “squeeze it, squeeze it like you want to hurt it.” She follows his commands and grabs him, squeezing with all the strength she can muster, his soft, unresponsive thing feels like plasticine in her hand, he pulls himself away from her and drives a punch into her stomach. “Is that all you’ve got? Squeeze it harder you bitch.”

    She tries to catch her breath, but he grabs her by the throat and begins to slowly choke the life from her, she twists and pulls and squeezes him, and slowly he grows hard. She hopes from his response he will release his grip, but he does not. She feels a wave of darkness begin to settle over her, and then everything goes black as she loses consciousness.

     

    #

     

    Red and blue lights flash from the police cruisers that surround the alleyway where the latest body has been discovered. Large spotlights bathe the area in light, across one of the alleyway walls the word ‘Jackson’ is scribbled in blood, a message believed to be aimed at one of District-Three’s Detective Inspector’s, Gary Jackson.

    Gary’s longer than usual dusty brown hair sits on his head messy and uncared for, his unshaven face and sleep deprived eyes makes him look ten or more years older than the forty-five he actually is, and his six foot five inch frame stands tall, but not as straight and proud as normal, making his well-built figure look drained and deflated.  He stands a few feet from the body looking over the crime scene, having spent the last twenty-nine years working as an enforcement officer, he’s seen many things that he would choose to forget if given the chance, the horrors that some will do for no reason other than to fulfill the need to kill.

    ‘Another fucking murder, I just need something, anything to stop this psycho.’ He thinks to himself.

    Since the bodies started piling up Gary has tried everything at his disposal to find and apprehend whoever is responsible, even accepting the help of a high-ranking profiler from Delta Divisional the mecca of Law Enforcement in Delta City, Oliver has been totally useless as far as Gary is concerned. With each passing day, he feels like he is drowning further and further underneath the weight of the bodies that are stacking up, and nothing he can do will sedate it.

    “What’s the verdict?” he asks Danny Halifax, District-Three’s top forensic coroner who is presiding over the body.

    “It’s the same piece of shit, same calling card with all the trimmings.”

    “Tell me you’ve got something this time?”

    “Not a damn thing, she’s as clean as the day she came into this world, like the rest.”

    “And the blood?” Gary asks pointing to the wall, each location where the bodies have been found has had his name written in blood above the remains, and since the second murder the blood used has been from the previous victim.

    “Blood works confirmed its victim fifteen, Trisha Mills’ blood, as we expected it to be.”

    “Be as thorough as you can Danny, if that fucker left anything for you to find it could crack this case wide open.”

    “If I get anything to work with, you’ll be the first to know.”

    Gary walks back to his awaiting cruiser and runs a hand through his hair as he slams the other onto the cruisers roof in frustration.

     

    END OF ACT I

  • Day 06 – The Final Request – YouChallenge Short Story

    Day 06 – The Final Request – YouChallenge Short Story

    The wind blows through the trees, scattering it’s leaves through the air with a ferociousness, sending them floating helplessly across the park.

    Clive Foster tightens the grip on his jacket as the wind cuts through his clothing and forces a cold shiver through his body that sends his teeth into a violent clatter. With his free hand he grabs a handful of seed from the paper bag and throws it to the pigeons, who greedily gobble up as much as they can, keeping their distance, but not. He looks up, knowing before he sees her that she is close, her red jacket almost glows against the dullness of the day, and he lets himself smile. She smiles back and he stands to meet her, embracing each other in an intimate hug, speaking more about their feelings towards each other than words ever could.

    “I didn’t think you’d come?” He says softly as they sit.

    “I almost didn’t.”

    “I’m glad you did, your looking good, young.”

    “That’s because I am, you look like I expected you to.”

    “What, old and haggard?”

    “Something like that, so why contact me now after all these years, I didn’t think you wanted anything to do with me after Simon?”

    “The past is what it is, I’m dying, cancer, it’s through my bones and working its way up to my brain, the doctors say I only have a few weeks at the most,” He says quickly, locking eye contact with her for a moment, then looking back towards the pigeons.

    “It happens, it’s part of being mortal, something that can’t be escaped, but you could’ve told me this over the phone, why meet?”

    “Isn’t it obvious? I’m scared, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to end up nothing.”

    “It’s a bit late for that,” she says as she leans back on the bench. “So, is this really how it’s going to happen, is this you begging?”

    “What?” He replies as he looks at her again, he feels parts of him twinge with life as he does, this woman, the only true love of his life, one he let go so long ago has not been touched by time like him, her beauty as it was when he first set eyes on her.

    “Don’t play this game Clive, you know all you have to do is ask.”

    “Ask?”

    “Ask for it, I told you years ago that’s all you needed to do, and I’m telling you now,” she says as she leans over and cuddles up to him. “Ask my love, ask and it will be.”

    “I’m scared.”

    “Don’t be, I’ll be with you the whole way, and then, you will have peace, just ask,” she says as she holds him tighter.

    He kisses her on the top of her head and they turn and face each other.

    “Forever?”

    “Forever,” she replies.

    “Then do it, please,” he says, her eyes glimmer in the gloomy light and she bites down, into his throat, and he smiles as she remakes him.

     

    END

    Someone asked me as a joke to write a story about an old man sitting on a park bench feeding pigeons. This made me decided that every Wednesday is a YouChallenge story, meaning I’ll write something based on a short idea from someone, anyone, no limit, no shyness, whatever is asked will be written. So here’s the first YouChallenge, enjoy.

  • Day 05 – The Things You’ll Do For Love – Short Story

    Day 05 – The Things You’ll Do For Love – Short Story

    Melinda sits on the side of her bed, and the tears run down her face uncontrollably as the day finally takes its toll on her. Jeremy makes his way into the room carrying a glass of water and sits down beside her placing a hand on her leg and handing her the glass. She looks at him through tear filled eyes and smiles as she takes a big mouthful from the glass and hands it back to him, she wipes her mouth as he places the glass on the table beside the bed.

    “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she says as she grips his hand tightly.

    “You never have to worry about that, I’m here for you whenever you need me, however you need me.”

    She smiles as she runs a hand across his jaw, “God, these last few weeks have been the worst weeks of my life and the only good thing that’s happened is you,” she says as she looks into his big, green eyes. “It’s like you came into my life just when I needed you the most.”

    “I guess it’s the world telling us something I think, I mean, I’ve never believed in fate, or destiny or any of that shit before, but when we ran into each other that night something greater was at play, something out of our control, something wonderful,” he replies with a smile.

    “You think so, you think we met each other for a reason?”

    “I know so, somehow we both were meant to be there, somehow we were supposed to meet, so we could forge this,” he says as he rubs her leg, she looks down at his hand and cuddles up to him as the tears flow again.

    “Really? I feel so terrible that you’re stuck with me like this, all the crazy things that have happened, with everything, god you don’t even really know me but you’ve somehow stuck by my side.”

    “Don’t be sorry, I want to be here, it’s my choice, so don’t be sorry.”

    She smiles at him and stares down at her lap, “I just wish I had more time, you know, the doctor said Mum died instantly, she didn’t feel any pain, but it doesn’t help, fuck I was only…” But she loses control and nothing else but cries of pain come forth, Jeremy hugs her tightly.

    “It’s OK, let it out,” he says as he kisses her on the forehead. Several moments pass before Melinda finally regains control and she pulls herself free from Jeremy’s clutches and composes herself, she picks up her phone and checks her messages and lets out a stuttered breath of anxiety, throwing it back down onto the bed.

    “God I just wish Susan would answer her fucking phone or at least reply to a message to let me know she’s OK and she’s on her way, no one’s heard from her for three days, it’s not like her, fuck none of this is like anything I’ve ever experienced before, I just don’t know what to do.”

    “She’ll show up, I’m sure of it,” Jeremy says as he places a hand on her chin and turns her face to his. “But I’m here for you baby, and I’m not going anywhere,” he kisses her on the lips and they press their foreheads together. “I think I’m falling in love with you,” he says softly as he takes a deep breath.

    Tears run down her face and she pushes him away and sits for a few moments before she turns back and reach out slowly, nervously and places her hands either side of his face and kisses him back, “I think I’m falling for you too, it’s the worst time, I know, but I am,” she says and they kiss passionately, falling backward onto the bed together, in each others arms.

     

    #

     

    Jeremy throws his keys on the counter and collapses onto his couch, and looks across at her and smiles.

    “She said it, she said the words, fuck, this is insane, I mean, where’s this going to go from here?” But she does not answer his question, she only stares deathly at him, the hate in her eyes like knives trying to stab him, and he smiles. “Don’t be jealous, it’s just the way life is,” he says as he gets to his feet and walks over to her, he runs a hand through her hair and she pulls away, so he grabs a handful of it and pulls her back towards him. “It’ll be over soon,” he says with a grin, tears stream down her face as she sees him raise the blade towards her, she jerks around furiously, but she knows there is no hope, the bindings are too tight and her moving around only makes them rip into her naked flesh. “By the way, I killed your mother this morning,” he says as he slices her throat open and laughs. “The things you’ll do for love,” and he steps back and watches the life drain from Susan’s body.

     

    END

     

  • Day 04 – It’s All In The Fine Print – Short Story

    Day 04 – It’s All In The Fine Print – Short Story

    The banging on the door cause his heart to race a million miles an hour, panic sets in and he quickly scans over the monitor to his left and highlights the door camera. A well-dressed man holding a briefcase stands at the door and patiently waits for an answer. He clears his throat of the saliva and mucus and presses a button on the keyboard in front of him.

    “C-can I help you?” He asks.

    “Mister Welford?”

    “You’re him?”

    “If by him, you mean me, then yes, I am him. We spoke over the phone about the classifieds ad, we arranged to meet, at twelve thirty, which I believe is now.”

    “Y-Yes, of course, please come in,” he says as he pressed another button and several locks on the door release. “It’s open.”

    The man opens the door and steps inside the house, cluttered with boxes and garbage, sitting in the centre of the amassed pile of waste, that has obviously taken quite some time to achieve, is Damon, he turns in his wheelchair and looks the man up and down.

    “Marcus?”

    “Yes,” he replies as he walks towards Damon and stretches out his hand to initiate a handshake, Damon backs away.

    “So, how full of bullshit was your ad?”

    “As we discussed over the phone, there is no ‘bullshit’ as you say, to my advertisement, what I offer is real. All it requires is the preliminary questionnaire to be answered and based on the answers you supply, I either grant you what I promise or I leave and that is that.”

    “Sounds too simple to be true.”

    “The great things always are, now is there any where I can sit?”

    “Take your pick?” Damon replies as he gestures forwards with his hands around the room. “As you can see, I don’t have any need for chairs, and I never have any guests.”

    “Then, I will stand,” Marcus replies as he places his briefcase at his feet and opens it, pulling out a small tablet. “This will only take a few minutes to complete, and as long as you answer the questions truthfully I will be able to assess your request correctly and give you an answer once the questioner is complete.”

    “Doesn’t this answer all your questions,” Damon says as he pulls a floppy, frail leg up from his wheelchair and shakes it towards Marcus.

    “Sadly, your disability does not instantly gain you access to our product, you must meet other guidelines before an assessment can be made.”

    “Fine, ask your questions, but you better not be wasting my time.”

    “As should you, remember, you called me,” Marcus says as he presses several buttons on the tablets surface. “Let’s begins, why did you contact me?”

    “Because of your classifieds ad, are all the questions going to be like this?”

    “Yes, but that’s not the answer, that’s the result, why did the advertisement appeal to you?”

    “Because you offered to cure this,” Damon says as he shakes his leg around again.

    “That is not what the advertisement stated.”

    “Of course it did, you put an ad in the paper saying your offering one free wish, which can be any wish you desire, that’s what you’re saying to me, or is that outside the realms of your abilities?”

    “Nothing is outside my abilities, how did you end up in the wheelchair?”

    “I was involved in a head on collision with a truck, I wasn’t wearing my seat belt and was thrown sixteen meters from the car into a sail that ran alongside the road, it shattered by back and pelvis, leaving me stuck in this piece of shit since then.”

    “When was that?”

    “Nineteen eighty-eight, how am I doing?”

    “Can you tell me what your life is like now?”

    “This is my life,” he says gesturing around the room.

    “When was the last time you left this house?”

    “Nineteen eighty-eight.”

    “When was the last time you had sexual relations with another human being?”

    “Two hours ago.”

    “How did this occur?”

    “Excuse me?”

    “Obviously they came here, how did you meet them?”

    “It was online, no one ever comes here.”

    “I don’t follow?”

    “I jerked off while watching some chick fingered herself in front of a camera for money, is that clearer for you?”

    “Yes, of course, do you have full use of your extremities?”

    “What? Do you mean does my dick get hard?”

    “Yes.”

    “What sort of fucking questions are these?”

    “These are the questions you need to answer to satisfy me.”

    “No, OK, it needs help.”

    “Pills?”

    “Seriously?”

    “Do you want your wish to be grated or do you want me to leave now before we complete the questions, remember Damon this relies on your honesty.”

    “Pills ok, lots and lots of fucking pills.”

    “I see your house is littered with technology, is this how you interact with the outside world?”

    “Yes.”

    “I have a proposition for you, I will dispense with the remaining questions and grant your request if you come and sit with me outside for two minutes?”

    “I can’t do that?”

    “Why not, there would be no more questions, you would have your wish, what is not to appreciate in that offer?”

    “I suffer from Agoraphobia, I can’t leave the fucking house, so just finish your questions.”

    “OK, that is unfortunate. Well answer this one then, if I was to grant you one wish, what would it be?”

    “Another hundred,” Damon replies quickly with a smile.

    “This is the last question, please if you will not take this seriously then I’ll have no option but to decline you’re request for our product.”

    “It’s fucking obvious isn’t it, I want to use my fucking legs.”

    “So if given the chance you would wish the accident never happened?”

    “Yes, of course I would, that accident ruined my life, I’d give anything to go back knowing what I know now, I’d change it all.”

    “Then we are complete,” Marcus says as he places the tablet back into his briefcase and pulls out a small vial of green liquid.

    “What’s that?”

    “This, is your wish, tonight, before you sleep, you must drink the entire contents of this vial and when you wake in the morning, your wish will be a reality.”

    “What’s it going to cost me?”

    “There is no monetary charge, that is not what this is all about, the only cost I take from you is your time today.”

    “You’re fucking joking? If this shit you’re sprouting is true, why the fuck are you giving it away?”

    “I never said I was giving it away, I just said there is no monetary cost,” Marcus says as he holds the vial out towards Damon, who quickly grabs it from him.

    “So that’s it, done, you don’t need anything else from me?”

    “Not today, I will however come and see you again in a weeks’ time, just to make sure everything is as you requested.”

    “Sure, sure, I look forward to it, now leave.”

    “Good day, Mister Welford.”

    “Yeah, good whatever, just leave,” Damon says as he stares intensely at the vial as Marcus leaves, for five or more minutes Damon sits there staring at the vial until finally he rips the lid from it and drinks the contents down quickly, it only takes a few moments for him to collapse back into his chair, unconscious.

     

    #

     

    Slowly, Damon opens his eyes, and for the first few moments he lies there, confused of his surroundings as everything from the day before slowly comes back to him like a sharp poker in the skull. He leaps up from his bed, and he stops.

    ‘Did I just leap?’ Damon looks down at his feet as they sit, firmly planted on the floor below him, and he wiggles his toes, amazed, and petrified at the same time. A smile grows on his face as tears of joy run down his cheeks.

    “That fucker was telling the truth!” He yells out as he runs out of his room and out into the adjacent hallway and then down into the lounge area, he looks around excitedly and once again confusion sets in, his computers are gone, in fact the whole room is different, or the same, or what it once was, he’s not sure at the beginning, until he sees the calendar on the wall.

    “Fuck me, this can’t be true, can it?” He says as he pulls the calendar down and he feels his anxiety build up, he then nervously walks towards the door and his hand clutches the handle, shaking in fear as panic begins to take over, he releases his grip on the handle and staggers backwards as everything slowly begins to close in on itself.

     

    TO BE CONTINUED

  • Day 03 – Lies Of A Broken World – Prologue

    Day 03 – Lies Of A Broken World – Prologue

    The bike cruises through the city streets like a hot knife through butter, sweat pours down his face and into his eyes, stinging them, and the helmet makes it impossible to wipe them away. He shoots around the corner with the bike on its side, and can feel the street bed brush past his knee as he leans into it and then pulls the bike upright and kicks it forward. The bikes dashboard lights up and it comes to a grinding halt as he launches himself off the bike and lands on the ground with both feet, pulling his enforcement blaster free from its holster. In the early days, when the domes were conceived, The United Federation outlawed the use of projectile weapons and introduced the Wasson Classed hard light blaster, these blasters operate using power cells that are converted into a hard-light, bullet like object that can scorch, shatter or eviscerate its target, depending on the setting programed by the user, he flicks his blaster to eviscerate and rushes towards an open doorway where the bodies of three district officers lie in pools of blood. He’s only within a few feet of the entrance when shots rip out of the doorway towards him, he frantically dives to the ground taking cover on the opposite side of the doorway and quickly fires back randomly inside.

    “Drop you’re fucking weapons and get the fuck out here with your hands in the air. If you refuse to cooperate I’ll have no option but to enter the building and hand out extreme judgment,” he yells.

    “Fuck you blue, we’re not coming out and you’re not coming in, fall the fuck back or we’ll waste every motherfucker inside!”

    He punches a few buttons on a wrist pad and a small holographic image appears, giving him a bird’s eye view of the interior, “Surveillance shows you’ve already done that, so once again, which way do you pieces of shit want to play this?”

    But he leaves them no time to react as he launches his assault, he’s quickly in the doorway and his first three shots all hit their targets square in the centre of their heads, the fourth member of the gang dives behind a counter for cover.

    “You’re fucking dead blue!” He screams out as he leaps from around the counter and fires randomly throughout the shop front, as the smoke clears nothing moves. He spits of wad of saliva onto the ground in front of him and smiles a sly, sneering smile. Then he feels it, the coldness of steel against his temple, his eyes dart sharply to the side and he stares into his eyes.

    “Bang!” he says as he pulls the trigger, removing half his head.

    The sound of approaching sirens make their way towards the building as he makes his way out through the doorway, the cruisers come to a skidding stop in front of him and officers quickly jump out of the vehicles, he puts his hands in the air, holding up his badge.

    “Sorry boys, you’re a bit late, the fun’s over.”

    “You were fucking told not to enter the building Jackson, there were hostages.”

    “I told you what you could do with your fucking orders, besides, the hostages were already wasted before I got on scene. I made a call and took the fuckers down, because let’s face it, ice was too good for those pieces of shit, so if you’ve got a problem with that you can go tell someone else, because I’m not listening.”

    “You think you’re so fu…..” but his sentence is cut short as Gary places his hand in the air and pulls out his ringing phone.

    “Jackson here?”

    “We’ve got another one,” the voice on the other end of the line says.

     

    END OF PROLOGUE