Tag: wickeness

Sandford Schism 

The smoke clears and Kyle sways back and forth with an empty expression across his face, and as he locks eyes with Whelimena his mouth drops slowly open as if he was preparing to say something, but as time continues forward no words come. This goes on for several silent moments, as they stand together in this symbiotic stance, then his eyes roll up into the back of his head and he falls forward into a motionless heap.

She turns with a grin wide across her face and winks playfully at Danny and Michelle.

“For a mirror and his fool shall soon be parted when the devil in red shoes comes to call ok their collections.” she sings with seductive overtones playfully dancing within her words.

“Y-Y-You can’t b-believe what y-you did was r-right! I-It wasn’t at all what w-was asked,” Michelle stammers, quickly Whelimena is at her side, a sneer twisted across her lips.

“I can only do what is asked, and his words were clear. DO YOU, think you have the right words to make me do what you wish?” she snarls.

Michelle looks over to Danny with a horrified look upon her face, then back to Whelimena, “B-B-But aren’t y-you supposed to g-grant three?”

The Excellence Of Sound

Devon walks purposefully towards the others as locked in a major actioned overloaded scene from one of the many action films he has spent most of his life enthralled in. With a gently bob of his head, he winks at Cathy and screws his lips up like many of the anarchist punks from the seventies and early eighties once loved doing. Cathy rolls her eyes and lets out a bemused crackle, covering her mouth quickly in embarrassment. Chavo casts a wayward glance her way then turns his attention back to the heroic like Devon.

“You my brother are the mother-fucking MAN!” Chavo roars as he raises his hand high into the air, preparing it for a well timed high-five as he now mimics Devon’s head bobbing.

Devon throws out a fist and splays out his pinky finger and index, making the sign of the horns, then pokes out his tongue with a overzealous bravado rarely shown of late. , stopping for several seconds so he can head-bang to whatever unheard piece of music he has dancing around in his head.

The horn blasts through the silently still night without warning, not even allowing Devon a moment of awareness before the car plows into him.

In The Webs Den

Gail stares forwards with wide panic ridden eyes, watching the cluster of spiders as they roll over each other in a mess of legs. Her heart beats in an uncontrolled rhythm, while erect second breath finds itself caught in her chest.

“Come on Princess we don’t have all day, what’s it to be?” a voices asks through a small headphone lodged deep within her left ear canal. “My way, or their way?” he adds with jovial overtones in his voice, as if to mock her.

“C-C-Can you s-still get m-me out of h-here?” she whispers with trembling lips.

“I can do anything I promise, you’ve just got to agree to my terms.”

She feels the sweat cascade down her brow, as he wide eyes grow ever wider. “I-I-I-I, I c-can’t promise that,” she whispers.

“Then I cannot help you,” he replies, followed by silence as her earpiece goes dead.

“Don’t be a jerk Sawyer, you can’t leave me here to die, not now that we know the truth!” she hisses, only to have silence to be her answer. “SAWYER!” she growls, then freezes in place as she comes to realise a thousand or more eyes watching her.

The Elusive Painting Of Job

He rushes forward with vindictive thoughts running wildly around in his head, giving Mack just enough room for a surprise attack as he jumps from the shadows and tackles Phil to the ground. For several long lost seconds they stare at each other, their desperate exhausted breaths languishing in unison. Mack’s lips turn upwards, forming a twisted smiles as he coyly tosses a sarcastic wink down towards Phil.

“Told you there wasn’t anywhere you could run to that would be far enough from my grasp. For the reaper has already painted your death in a glorious mural for all to see, perhaps he’ll show you it as he drags you downwards into the pits of hell itself,” he sneers with avid delight, but the smile quickly disappears as he stares down at Phil who looks up at him with a broad grin upon his own lips.

“W-W-What are y-you smiling a-about?” he asks nervously.

“You’ll know soon enough,” Phil boasts proudly, as Mack noticed the pool of blood that has quickly formed beneath them.

Light And Hoppy

He stares out across the beautiful barren landscape before him as he sits in an awkward bloody mess, and take another swing on the almost empty beer bottle in his hand. With curious eyes he studies the beer’s labelling, letting out a stuttered laugh as he turns to Sandy’s lifeless corpse.

“Fucking hipsters and their low carb BULLSHIT beer, can’t they just let beer be beer, and make their own ultra light comfort shit under a different name so people like me done get stuck with their pissweak SHIT!” he sneers as he downs the last of the beer and tosses the bottle away before struggling back to his feet once more, using a weathered shovel like some makeshift crutch. He stares down at the hole and then over to Sandy, pulling a repulsive look across his face as he swish’s the last few drops around in his mouth before spitting it out to the dusty ground beneath him.

“FUCKING HIPSTER WANKERS!” he screams as he trusts the shovel into the ground with a flair of theatrics, before he bends down a picks Sandy up in his arms. “Sorry old girl, but I’m sure you knew, somewhere in the back of that dense head of yours that I’d come back for you.”

My Catchphrase Reworn

The lights slithers it’s way through the shards of vacant areas that litter themselves across the walls and windows as Harry tears with torn bloody nails at the grotesquely thick slime like weed that has grown out of control and covers almost every square inch of the room. Linda lets out a petrified scream from behind him, and he spins in dramatic fashion to witness her hanging from the air, held there by an invisible quarry. His lips cascade across each other as if they were multiple waves hitting the shore from different angles at the one moment, and he lets out a low-level growl.

“LET HER GO!” he bellows as he thrusts his feet down into the swamp like floor beneath him, tightening his bloody hands into fists and snarling rabidly. “IT’S ME YOU CAME FOR, NONE OF THESE MORSELS WILL SEDATE THE HUNGER CRAVE!” he screams thumping his chest aggressively.

Linda’s motionless form drops to the ground, and a gigantic figure steps out of the nothingness, and into the room before Harry.

“You do not know what sedates my hunger child, for if you did, you would realise that every step you take, every fear you feel, every time without fail, makes me closer to becoming you, and you to become me,” it snarls as Harry stares at his twisted smile in the mirror.

 My Growth 

Duncan lets out a sigh, then looks back down towards Sarah’s bloody corpse as it stares emptily toward him. “BECAUSE YOU MADE ME!” he bellows furiously as he rolls his lips over his teeth and sneers, before casting an unhinged gaze towards Tyrone.

“You can’t blame me for all your mistakes,” he says with a wicked smile across his bloody lips.

“THE TRUTH SHALL SET ME FREE!” he roars in defiance as he leaps to his feet, puffing out his chest proudly.

“You wouldn’t know the truth if it was presented to you in step by step narration whilst watching a documented video footage of the before mentioned truth.”

Duncan stares at him for some time before letting out another fierce breath of frustration. “You wouldn’t understand the pressures I’m under! You wouldn’t understand the deeds I’ve been asked to perform! You wouldn’t understand, and that is where the all and the and behind and end.”

Tyrone smiles anew with a hint of sarcasm etched within the wrinkles of his face. “The and infuses the end, and in that instant, where the coals are hot, that is where I not only begin, but also grow expediently!”

 A Card Of Games 

Marcus tugs at his hair as his brow furrows and sweat begins to form on his top lip. “S-S-So you’re saying no matter what I do, everything will always end up with the same outcome? No matter how I play the game, no matter how I deal with him, I’ll always lose?” he spits with trembling lips while he chews his fingernails away leaving bloody stumps in his wake.

Patrick leans back in his seat brandishing a grin that oozes self satisfaction. “The cards never lie, and neither do I.”

“S-S-So what do I do?”

Patrick raises an eyebrow with sarcastic flair and slaps a card face down onto the table.  “You can either pick up the card, or you can get up and walk away, knowing that you’ll always end up in the same place you are always destined to.”

“U-Unless I pick that up,” he says nodding towards the card.

“Precisely,”

Marcus looks down at the card nervously, then back up at Patrick “I-I-It’s not s-something worse?”

Patrick laughs loudly “I can’t tell you unless you turn the card over, because right now it’s just a blank piece of paper waiting for you to touch it, waiting for you to imprint your path upon its fibres. Do you dare to trip the light fantastic, or are you happy knowing that every version you could ever be, will end up bowing to him?”

 He Seized The Said 

He drops to his knees and grits his teeth tightly. “What do you want me to do? Take back everything I’ve given, and leave?” he spits as he casts a wicked glance her way, meeting her cold glare.

“You can FUCKEN rot for all I care!, but you’re not taking anything you brought here to me, because that’s FUCKEN mine CUNT!” she snarls as she tightens her hands into fists, and strikes him across the face with a ferocious left that is quickly followed by right and another powerful left. He sways from side to side as his world heaves left and right while a ringing roars in his ears. He tries to focus his disjointed gaze upon the blurry shadow that he can only assume is her, but his world is torn asunder as she strikes him once more, this time sending him to the ground in a motionless heap.

“You thought you were the FUCKEN king, when all you really ever were, was a FUCKEN joke! I canne believe I let you lie with me in my bed, and sucked your fleshy piece of meat in my mouth! I must’ve been FUCKEN mad!” she snarls as she drives a well placed kick into his face, smashing a plethora of teeth free in bloody fashion.

 Solo Confiscate 

Oliver places his hands against the jackets that hang before him, and gently pushes them to the side to reveal a void unlike one he had ever seen before. The stuttered breaths he desperately tries to draw in finds themselves caught somewhere within his throat as if some invisible hand has gripped him tightly enough to cut off the supply of air to his lungs. His eyes widen with a visibly strained desperation as he frantically tries to persuade his throat to open, tearing at the unseen presence as if it were physically there. His gasps become more animated, and he starts striking his chest in panicked fear, still asserting no change. As his face changes to a shade of blue he drops to his knees then falls to the ground on his side as a doorway opens up from within the void and she walks through, dressed in the finest furs he had ever seen.

She comes to a stop several steps from him and looks down at Oliver with a sneer across her lips. “How pathetic you are son of Adam. How pathetic and squishy you are,” she snarls as she raises a hoofed foot from the ground and stomps it down upon his head.

Dress Rehearsal 

Claudio places the flower gently on the stone slab and takes a step away, as if he was attempting to dress the area before him like a visualised scene from inside his head. He lets out a slightly stuttered sigh as he steps forward and picks the flower up, then lies it back down again, this time angling it slightly to the left before stepping back once more.

“Are you going to still deny your feeling for her?” Marcus asks as he lies outstretched across a bench that sits a few feet away.

“When you are attempting to send a specific message, you must dress the foliage to suit,” he says as he casts a savage glance his way. “I recognise someone from your linage could not understand how important a little artistic flair is in this situation, but surly by witnessing what I have done here, you can see the value in the piece as it appears now, compared to how it was when we arrived.”

“My linage? Are you fucking with me old man? Are you forgetting where I came from?” he barks back as he grabs his nut sack and squeezes tightly.

He sighs deeply and turns back to the bloody collage that sits before him. “Sometimes child, DNA is not the linage we must call back to, but the environment your dear mother kept you contained in.”

What Is Waiting

The darkness that enveloped him as his final breath left his body dissipates quickly and he finds himself sitting in a plain white room, while a man with an all too familiar smile stares at him from the other side.

“Hello Michael, welcome home.”

“A-A-Am I d-d-dead?”

The mans smile softens and he laughs gently. “Please Michael, we try to avoid using words with those type of negative connotations, as they put such a black and white spin on everything that takes place from this point onwards. We prefer to utilise the word metamorphosis instead, as this part of your journey m but only another minuscule st….”

“Don’t I know you?” Michael interrupt with a jovial smile upon his face.

The man blinks erratically as his brow furrows and lower lip trembles. “I-I-I-I, I don’t be-believe that w-we ha…”

“Josh, Josh FUCKING Tanner!” Michael yells proudly as he slaps the table with an open hand. “You’re the guy who dashed out Sarah York while I was dating her. You’re a son-of-a-bitch!”

The man nervously looks across to a wall and then back to Michael. “N-N-No, I-I-I, I’m not t-t-this j…”

“Who’d you look at, over there then? Someone hiding on the other side of the wall watching us?” Michael asks as he gets up and walks over to the wall and squints his eyes tightly as he tries to see through the very wall itself, while behind him the room melts away into darkness.

Fear What Holds Me

“The blade shouldn’t be the only thing that worries you, for without the human holding it, it is just a thing.” Theodore scoffs with sarcastic pleasure, as a smile winds it’s way across his lips before twisting into a ferocious snarl. “I AM WHAT YOU SHOULD FEAR! I AM THAT WHICH WILL BE YOUR UNDOING! FEAR THE REALITY OF ALL THAT IS BEFOFE YOU! FACE YOUR DEATH, AS YOU FACE YOUR DESTROYER!” he bellows wildly as he drives the knife into Santiago’s stomach and drags it across then up, all the while staring menacingly into his eyes with an over intoxicating pride.

“I-I-I-I, I c-could n-never f-f-fear y-you,” Santiago stammers softly as his trembling hand lifts and gently caresses Theodore’s cheek while tears spill from his eyes.

We Never Spoke Of This

The light breaks in several agonising seconds after the pain that tore through every fibre of his being did. He lets out a stuttered cry of fear as he finds himself hanging from a device attached to the dirt ridden roof above him. Running on pure instinct he struggles wildly against the bindings that are wrapped tightly around his arms and legs, only to find the pain that is already washing over him in waves of chaotic agony, intensify ten fold. As he twists and turns the plethora of hooks that are dug beneath his flesh dig deeper, and with a focus well beyond what they should have.

“I wouldn’t struggle if I was you, for you’ll only end your life prematurely, and in doing so, will take this fine contraption with you into the afterlife.” a voice says from somewhere outside his view of sight.

“W-W-WHO ARE YOU!” he screams as he continues to fight against his bindings, which in turn intensified the pain once again.

“Tut-tut-tut,” the voice replies in a belittling tone. “You will NOT get the answers you seek from me if you cannot abide by my rules, and if you cannot abide by my rules I will no longer be responsible for what befalls you.”

Perchance Upon A Broken Mirror

Steven comes to a complete stop and swallows a staggered breath that burns his throat as he forces it down. Slowly his eyes cross over each other then stares nervously towards the darkness that creep behind him. At first nothing more than the darkness that hold a tight grip over the world beyond him, but the longer he stares the more structure is drawn from our of the darkness, until the abstract shape of a figure is revealed. He feels the urine escape his bladder and run down his leg quickly, as does the uncontrollable trembling of his lower lip. He squeezes his eyes tightly closed, “W-W-What the F-FUCK i-is that!” he mumbles under his breath, before tearing his eyes open once again.

He lets out a cry more suited to that of a pre-teen girl, than a man in his late thirties. Before him stands a man almost eight feet tall, and as thin as a telephone pole. He stares at Steven with an empty gaze, while a thick gooey substance that looks more like slime than saliva.  

“Hello Steeveen,” he says with a mundane smile drawing back across his face to reveal a mouthful of rotten teeth. He pushes his hands together, and dances each finger across the last. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Candy Apple Surprise

“Is this what you wanted me to do?” she purrs as she slowly unbuttons her pink bloodstained sweater, letting it fall from her shoulders to the ground below her, flashing a cheeky smile as she does. He quickly nods his head in nervous agreement, which only makes her smile broadens as she pushes him up against the dirty alleyway wall, and thrusts a high heel boot next to his head, as she displays her able agility to him proudly.

“How long has it been liver boy?” she purrs seductively, caressing the underneath of his chin with the funky manicured tip of her finger.

“T-T-Too long,” he stammers, as he wets his dry lips with his tongue.

She grabs his hardness through his jeans tightly and he lets out a muffled groan, while she feels the fabric beneath her grip grow wet while his cock quickly softens.

“I can see that now, you pathetic waste of oxygen,” she snarls as she squeezes his now limpid penis with a renewed gusto, causing him to scream in pain as he tries to fight his way free, only to have her other hand grip him by the throat, and drive him back against the wall.

“W-W-W-WHAT T-T-THE FUCK!” he desperately cries, as tears stream from his eyes.

“If you have to ask, I’ll need to tune my game up a notch or two,” she growls as she tears her hand away from his grow, dragging him with her.

Grand Dreams In Neon Cathedrals 

The sweat drips down across his brow, runs along the bridge of his nose and coils itself at its tip. He sucks in a nervous breath as the others continue to dance around the room painted in a jaded colour pallet reminiscent of several eighties music film clips, while they move in your stock-standard slow motion. She smiles at him broadly, titling her head to the side in a semi-dramatic fashion.

“W-W-Why do y-you stare at me s-so?”

“Because I have nothing else to do silly sausage,” she purrs proudly, licking her lips with her tongue.

“W-W-Who a-are y-you?”

Her eyes widen as she straights her head, then tilts it to the other side. “Don’t you know me?”

He shakes his head vigorously, as his eyes well up with tears.

Her smile disappears, and she frowns. “Are you sure?”

“I-I-I, I know e-everyone here, a-all of t-then, b-but I don’t know y-you!” he stammers.

She looks around the room with protecting eyes, the smiles wryly before pointing to a dancing couple. “Who’s that one?” she asks in a high-pitched cry.

“D-Des and Susie, I-I-I, I w-went to s-school w-with D-Des, and S-Susie w-was my f-first girlfriend.”

Her smiles broadens. “Those two!” she calls pointing towards another two.

“G-Grant and E-Emily, E-Emily w-was the first girl I kissed a-and Grant w-worked at McBurley’s w-with m-me and Dalton.”

“The floosies at the bar with the drunk!”

“R-Russ, a-and his s-sisters S-Sonya, Katie a-and R-Rachel, t-the Dill-Waith t-triplets. I-I-I, I u-used to party wi-with Russ all t-the time w-when I was In c-college.”

She stares at him intensely, as her smile slowly reappears across her lips. “Why does it trouble you so that I am here?”

He swallows desperately, as he looks around the room and is met by each set of eyes staring back at him, until he finally comes back to hers. “B-B-Because I d-don’t know y-you.”

The Name Of The Game

The room falls silent and all eyes fall on Catherine, as she pulls the knife from Flint’s throat, showering in a sea of deep red. She sneers then smiles licking her lips with self satisfaction, then meets their gaze with hers.

“I wasn’t going to let him think it was his to win, not when I had all intentions of winning everything for my self,” she announces matter-a-factly.

“B-B-But, th-that’s no-not what this is a-all about! N-N-NOT THIS,” Even’s stammers as he gestures awkwardly towards Flint’s bloody remains.

“Then what is it all about, if it is not a battle to the finish? What is it, if it is not about winning or losing? What is it, if it is none of those things?”

The sweat pours from Even’s brow, and he dabs it lightly with an already heavenly drench handkerchief. He looks desperately over to the producer who standing frozen in fear refusing to make eye contact with him, then to the camera operators as they continue to keep the cameras trained up the two of them.

“DON’T LOOK AT THEM, LOOK AT ME AND ANSWER MY QUESTION! TELL ME WHAT THIS IS ALL ABOUT!” she bellows through saliva drenched teeth.

He turns in abject horror towards her with trembling lips and shaking hands. “O-O-Okay! OKAY! Y-Y-Your right, t-they are w-what t-this sh-show is all about, j-j-just not T-THAT W-WAY!” he stammers once more, as he again gestures towards Flint’s lifeless corpse.

To Dissect Their Narrative 

“Do not confuse my sarcasm, for ignorance,” Riley sneers with obvious malice littered throughout his words. “When you came to me with your desperate plan, I allowed the narrative to be yours, and yours alone, for anything else would’ve been less than what was required. But now the war that you so desperately needed to win has come to an end, and with its end, so must you face yours.”

William lets out a inhuman growl as he throws several wayward punches into the air, followed by a twisting kick, that brings him within an inch of Riley. He thrusts kicks to Riley’s left, then to his right, neither hit, but nor does Riley react. They stare silently at each other as William takes several steps back then strengthens his stance, tightens his muscles and focuses all that he has left inside his fading shell towards Riley. “Then, let us end this,” he snarls.

Riley raises an eyebrow and smiles as he twists and turns in the air like a acrobatic gymnast following an overly choreographed routine, landing expertly some feet away from where he stood moments ago.

“Do not confuse yourself, with me.” Riley hisses proudly.

“WILL YOU JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP AND DANCE WITH ME!” William cries as the two charge at each other.