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Darkly Dreaming Demographic.

Where weird shit hits bizarre fans.

Month

January 2016

Green Sunday Chapter 2; This Charming man (Edited reupload)

Here it is finally, after much faffing about over the holidays I finally managed to sort this out and get back on track with the editing and continuous writing of this literary monstrosity. I’m already about 40k into it and I see no end in sight, it’s almost beaten my first secret novel which will never be revealed except for exclusive rights to the movie and merchandise haha. I can dream.

 

As always if you liked this chapter or you’re new to the story and want to go back to the start head on over to my inkitt page for the complete story in a neat order and in a format that I’m sure can be read on all manner of magical devices, wiggets and wablets and magic hats and scrolls I’m sure.

Green Sunday Chapter 2

An old TV, sitting on a greasy-looking shelf, played in the background in a local greasy spoon diner on the edge of town. The diner was alive with the sounds of knives and forks sword-fighting; people taking deluxe bites out of reasonably priced burgers, and washing them down with complementary milkshakes.

“The Pudgiwara Corporation today said they were very sorry for dumping the one thousand tonnes of toxic waste in the bay and they said they’d never do it again.” The news anchor furrowed his brow sincerely before moving on to the next segment. “In other local news, a young boy of fourteen was arrested after a prank backfired outside his suburban home. The boy, who is yet to be named for legal reasons, was tricked by his friends into believing that another biological outbreak, similar to that of the one in Arkham, Louisiana, was underway. Police state that the boys school friends wore make-up and ragged clothing and pretended to be the undead. The boy fearing for his life retrieved his 22. Calibre rifle he received for his third birthday and slaughtered them all in his back yard”

“Hahahahahahahahahaha!” Incongruous laughter broke out. It seemed that all the knife and fork sword fights ended abruptly. But the laughter went on regardless as the story played out.

“The fourteen year old boy then, fearing for the fate of his family, went into his suburban home and strangled his entire family to death with a draught excluder”

“Hahahahahahahahahahaahahahaha!” A dirty hand, topped with dirty, chipped nails, scooped up a clod of hamburger meat from a steel bowl as he laughed.

“What’s going on out here?” A fat sweaty man in an apron, and not a lot else, came out of the back. A confused look on his face, he stood next to a middle-aged redhead waitress with a face like a leather riding saddle.

“Some crazy guy. All he ordered was a bowl of raw hamburger meat. He’s just been sitting there eating it. Then he just started laughing,” the middle-aged woman said, her face wrinkling up in places never before thought possible.

The fat man’s sweat patches grew under his apron. He started to look like he belonged in a sauna or in a tropical plant house as he breathed heavily.

“The boy is currently under observation at Hellspass psychiatric hospital.” The man’s laughter began to run down like the motor of a car sliding into park. A greasy hand touched the arm of his salvation army coat and the slow come-down took a sudden bump.

“Hey, buddy, you’re freakin’ people out. Can ya keep it down? People are trying to eat,” the fat chef said, in an apologetic tone, as he furrowed his brow into painful ‘v’s, which seemed to stretch all over his slippery bald head.

“What’s that?” the man said without turning his head. A chunk of unchewed hamburger meat fell from his mouth onto the semi-clean counter. He turned his bloodshot eyes in his skull.

“I said-”

“I heard what you said.”

“Huh?”

“I just can’t tell what I’m looking at.” He picked his teeth with a dirty nail and sucked his gums, dislodging raw meat.

“Look, buddy, we aint looking for no trouble. I think you better just pick your sorry ass up and leave – right now!”

“Did you make this?” The strange, homeless guy squeezed the hamburger meat in his hands, letting it ooze through his bony fingers. He had shoulder-length mousey brown hair, with a long beard completing the homeless chic. His features were thin and gaunt, dark eyes hidden under heavy lids. He wore a long, olive drab army jacket that went all the way down to his ankles, hiding the fact that he was wearing plastic bags tied with string around his feet instead of shoes. To complete the ensemble: a threadbare shirt and pair of pants that looked like they’d gone missing from an old people’s home washing line. Printed across the front of the jacket was a name written in bold dark green lettering. ‘CARPENTER’.

“What’cha talking about, buddy? That’s raw hamburger meat. Aint nobody ‘made’ it. Drifters like you don’t belong here; it’s time for you to move on now!”

“You know, I used to be just like you”

“Get ou-!” A glob of hamburger meat cut off the chef mid-sentence. The slimy, gelatinous meat by-product got into his eyes and nose. It felt like a fist made of lumpy snot hitting his sinus wall. He felt disorientated, giving the dishevelled man ample time to kick a bar stool. The chef fell forward as the stool hit his shins, tripping him. Carpenter rose like a jack-in-the-box on angel dust from his stool to slam the chef’s dirty face into the counter.

He pressed the chef’s face into the off-colour lime green diner counter, spreading blood and raw meat and spit all over it. The chef strained as he began to get light-headed, his skull pressed against the hard surface.

“You know it’s rude to interrupt someone when they’re eating.” Carpenter squeezed the chef’s head with his forearm against the counter. The veins on the chef’s head stuck out like rail-road tracks, pumping hot kitchen grease. Carpenter took his other hand and ran his finger up from his face taking up some of the hamburger meat. Getting under his nails, he sucked his finger.

He took the pressure off and sat back on his stool like he got up to get the salt. The chef stuck to the counter with blood and sweat and hamburger meat. Peeling off, his unconscious body hit the linoleum floor of the diner like a sack of dried hams. He parted stools and chairs and brows as he fell. The diner fell silent. Food went unchewed in open mouths; coffee cups shook; babies continued crying; the dishevelled man went back to watching the news and laughing.

If you liked what you read of this excerpt, follow the link below to read the rest of the chapter on inkitt.

Cheers.

Green Sunday Chapter 2

Kabar, Big brother in black

Back after a hard christmas, hard on my guts and my wallet, but one that wont be soon forgotten. I really thought I could blog and write and do all that stuff and have a life during christmas, how foolish I was. But back here I am again, back in black with only my second knife review, the kabar big brother in black.

I got this knife after some ‘unpleasantness’ I had in regard to my local law enforcement combined with my neighbours inability to mind their own business and love of stretching the truth. They took everything that might harm a toddler from my house, everything remotely gun or knife shaped just so they could feel like they got a good haul. After that I was feeling a little deflated in regards to the state of freedom and privacy in britain, as without a constitution it seems like the police can do pretty much anything they want. And if a man can’t test huge knives in full tactical gear and skull mask in his own back garden what’s the point in having your own back garden?

Needless to say I felt a little ‘deflated’ in the trouser department, so I set out not to be defeated and got right back on knife centre and bought the biggest meanest knife I could find within my price range and a voila; I found the kabar big brother.

Eventually after much complaining about the orwellian tactics used by my local police to my mp I got all my knives and my computer back (big brother took it just to make sure I wasn’t a terrorist or a peadophile,thus I can assure you all I am not guilty of any terrorism or child buggery or anything to that effect, nice of them to let me know eh).

It took awhile but the kabar big brother (just now realising what a coincidence that name is in regard to the situation that lead to me buying, although not at the time) in my hand, stashed under my bed, made me feel a lot safer for the coming zombie apocalypse.

I dare say this knife alone could do a fair job of fending off the zombie hordes. The first kabar I ever bought, I liked the look of the classic usmc but had heard mixed reviews so I wanted something a little more impressive looking. The big brother is essentially a huge version of the classic usmc, with a whopping blade just over eight inches in length, it’s a hefty large knife/small machete.

With any kabar knife you get I believe over a hundred years or so of knife making expertise and it shows despite seeming a little common place today, a little more mainstream than a handmade knife.

The blade is as I said huge but it’s not thick and bulky, it’s actually rather light and delicate and it makes for excellent movement in the hand and a very sharp edge out of the box. The serrations on the back as I’ve heard with most kabars are useless, almost just for display or maybe notching or some other bushcrafty type thing, an alternative to toilet paper perhaps. Completing the blade is a very sturdy clip point making an almost false edge on the back swedge of the blade.

The handle is probably my favourite part, it’s rare to get such a good grip on such a large knife but due to the weight of the blade, the shape of the tang and the handle material being some kind of rubber it makes for an almost adhesive grip even without gloves. The round metal pommel also lends a little more balance as well as the ability to see the end of the tang.

The guard is a thin and pointless and I’ve heard they’re prone to come loose but that doesn’t really bother me for the price, it was about £80 with shipping and duty and all that. It’s no handmade ancient japanese swords with magical runes but it gets the job done and it looks really nice and comes complete with a lovely leather sheathe.

Overall I really like it, I think if holding this knife in your hand doesn’t make your balls grow, nothing will. It’s just a big knife that swings really nicely and cuts very well. It’s also one of the few knives I’ve seen tested on the youtube channel zombie go boom. They pitted it against ballistic zombie skulls and it did as well as any knife it’s size could, decapitation in two hits if I remember correctly.

So if you want a knife that could probably cut someone head off in two hits but also looks really nice, is really light and probably nimble enough to be used for any number of bushcraft tasks I’d pick myself up one of these.

First proper blog back, mini-rant in there, that’ll do.

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