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May 2018

Gage Chapter 7 ‘Ceremony’

Well hello der,

Err, I never know how to start these things, all I really want to do is bitch about the witcher.

No I’ll do an intro, ok well I’ve done pretty much nothing except make googoo eyes at my babymama and think about celtic folklore in the shower. But on that front it’s great. I should feel shitty because nothing is on paper but I don’t for the major reason; the mushy stuff which I don’t want to talk about. To focus on the writing, I feel like this is a real awakening for me. 

I found myself pretty blackpilled after I finished Diana because I genuinely thought to myself that I would never write anything better than this and it stung a little because it’s pretty much a fanfic or an homage to Dexter, it is mine, but also not mine. When I write it I’m purposefully trying to recapture the feeling I had while reading Dexter because I just want more of that feeling and I probably wont ever be getting it again from the actual source.

But there’s something about this, I didn’t have it at first, but as I read the folklore and think about it and wrestle with it in my head I just get this really good feeling in my chest. And even if it doesn’t turn out better than Diana it will be the next step nomatter what. I told myself if Diana failed, if I couldn’t get an agent or any copies sold I might quit but this is what I was waiting for, this will restock the fires in my heart for writing, I can feel it.

Right now I’m in this gorgeous calm before the storm moment like I have this big juicy apple the size of my head in front of me and I’m deciding how to eat it, just nibbling at it from all sides waiting for the answer to present itself. I really can’t wait til friday, I think I’m just going to dive into the internet for names and sources and start digging and taking notes and start sculpting this story. For right now it’s enough to let it cook in my head. I can’t rush it, this one has to be perfect.

Ok so enough of this positive shit, time to rag on the witcher haha. I dunno I actually feel positive even ragging on it, I think my fantasy book will be ten times better in terms of story, I don’t know about the writing, these books as I’ve said are really well written which I keep mentioning because it surprises me having read so many bad fantasy books on inkitt haha.

Because as I’ve harped on about the first witcher book ‘the last wish’ has almost no story it’s a witcher cheesy clip show with no real narrative linking the random events then it just ends with Geralt and Yennefer fucking because he uses his magic Genie wish to make her love him, which makes literally no sense. I mean the magic date rape sure but  I don’t even get why he liked her and not the snow white chick who banged the seven dwarves, their relationship was pretty much the same but she was more interesting.

Anyway so I started reading the second book ‘Blood of Elves’ and it starts with Ciri escaping cintra written in a really teenage girl ‘omg’ way I find really annoying. Then there’s a bunch of guys discussing the battle then Dandelion is captured and tortured and saved by Yennefer then Triss goes to Kaher Morhen (I at least tried to spell it this time) and that’s it. I started meming when was about 30% in that I was halfway through a book about monster killers and they haven’t killed a single monster yet nor did it seem likely they would in the near future. But now I just went over the halfway point and the most eventful thing to happen was Triss had a vision quest and Ciri got her period.

I wish I was kidding. Yeah it’s well written and some of the characters are decent but this is fucking filler, this is like bad bleach filler but instead of going on a wacky adventure they just sit around and do nothing but whine and feel awkward. I dunno, it almost feels like I’m missing a book, like there must have been a big time jump from the first book because I get the feeling that the thing where Geralt has a relationship with Triss has already happened and Yennefer and Geralt have already split up sort of. Also Ciri wasn’t born in the first book and she’s old enough to be having periods in this one.

This is the book that brings in Vessemir and my boy Lambert and all the other witchers and surrounding characters… to do nothing. I’m halfway through the book and the only person to pick up a sword was a little girl. I’m sitting here reading this expecting to get this rip roaring swashbuckling witcher adventure like the first book but with a story and I’m stuck in this really well written fantasy snorefest where the most interesting thing to happen is a magic make up tutorial.

Don’t get me wrong though, I’m not giving it up, I’m told the series gets better and my polish friend told me the first two books were sort of a slog but I won’t skip them. I’ll just read them and moan about them til I get to the good ones haha.

Ok so enough whining about the witcher, on to do something productive like blow it out of the water haha.

See you…

–

After the fire died Gage took ash onto his fingers and marked each boy’s forehead in turn. To symbolize the ashes of the old world and the world that would rise from it.

He took the various guns he collected from the patrons of the whorehouse who no longer needed them and handed them out like the sacraments at a mass. The boys eyeing them with wondrous curiosity as they splayed out on a tray Gage found in back.

They each took a revolver and Gage made them all take an oath to the new world. A mighty bone shaking oath that shook them to their core and moved them in ways they never thought possible.

*Note to the reader, the oath spoke of is never mentioned in the following text nor referred to again. And any remant of it has several variations none of which can be said to be cannon.

They were the warriors of the new world who’s only purpose would be to save the future of the human race from alien control. They would be the first droplets in a mighty tide of revolution to wipe clean this land and then this earth.

They swore before god and on the words of the bible that they would lay their lives down in service of their people. And cut down any that would stand in their way.

They spent the next few days in the remote brothel fixing it up and making it livable. Converting it into something of a clubhouse. Although there only being four bedrooms would mean two of the boys had to bunk up. Which lead to incessant consternation and ribbing between them. Although most of the time Gage preferred not to use a bed and just sleep on the porch on the rocking chair with his gun on his lap.

The boys took the time, familiarised themselves with the guns long and short until they could say they were as adept as anyone could have been. Considering only government officials and cut throats would even handle such a thing. They got comfortable enough to use them without blowing their own toes off. Learning for instance to keep one chamber empty to rest the hammer on so as not to misfire down the back of their trousers.

A few days past, it was around sundown when Clarke rushed back to the brothel, his rifle tucked under his saddle so it wasn’t visible to any passersby. He was out hunting rabbits and had come back empty handed but was very excited none the less. The sun was coming down and the boys were inside rather hungry with nothing to eat but stale bread and crackers from the whorehouses stores. Clarke had proven himself calm and capable with the long gun, a steady shot and a good tracker, so he’d taken it upon himself to scout around for food.

He rushed into the whorehouse coughing and sputtering with youthful excitement. Although this was unusual for him, as he’d displayed himself to be an even tempered young lad who rarely spoke when it was uneccessary. And could even be considered taciturn and moody in some respects. But he was excited by something.

“I- found- something!” He exhalted.

“Not rabbits ey” O’Shaugnessy bellyached.

“Let him breathe lads” Jameson said as the other three crowded around him.

Gage listened pretending to be asleep on the porch with a hat pulled down over his face.

“What did ya find Billy?” Mcdonald asked.

“A- trading post- about five or six miles east of here” He sputtered trying to steady his breathing.

“They have anything worth trading fer, like rabbits?” O’Shaugnesy added.

“Would ya shut yer mouth Shaun and let the man speak” Jameson said.

“I dunno, I didn’t go inside, I just looked in the window, got all kinds of stuff, guns, ammo, food, coats and furs and the ugliest damn wife and kids I ever seen”. He smirked.

“How many?”

“A whole bunch, look like that fella we hung the other day cept uglier.”

“He’s human?”

“Oh yeah, as you and I, must’ve taken one of them things as his wife for some goddamn reason.”

Jameson and the other lads made a face of confused disgust at the thought of a human mating with a lug. Shocked to think it was even possible and encountering the demonic children such a coupling would create.

“So you didn’t talk to him at all, he didn’t see you?” Jameson asked.

“No, I was the only one doing the seeing.” Clarke smirked. “I overheard him bellyaching with some traveller said he was pissed at the Cyclon for some reason. Wished someone would take’em out. I couldn’t rightly understand what it was he was saying, the fella didn’t seem too interested hisself neither.”

McDonald who was the largest but most soft spoken of the group with whispy mousey brown hair trying to escape his head. And muton chops framing a rough potmarked scotch-irish mug scratched his chin. “Could be he knows if there’s a town nearby, mightn’t be a good place to start.”

Jameson breathed in a little puffing out his chest and stomping across the wood floor of the brothel out the saloon door.

“Morning” Gage said as he rose from his rocking chair letting his shotgun fall loose at his side. “We ride out first thing tomorrow.” He said low.

Jameson nodded and smiled trying to hold in his excitement.

“Yes sir” He said.

The next morning they got up at the crack of dawn all four of them but Gage was nowhere to be found. He left a note outside Jameson’s door telling him to take his horse and he’d meet them there.

Read the rest of the chapter over on inkitt.

0

Black Panther – Review (meh-tier savagery)

As always I’ve been a naughty pirate and late to the party as usual but not having paid for it makes me less angry. Because if I paid money for this utter pile of garbage I would have asked for it back and made everyone uncomfortable.

So yeah I didn’t want to like this movie no not because I’m an evil racist bigot- well there’s that, come on guise, one of my best friends is black *sweats profusely*. Just my usual loathing for stuff everyone likes and fauns over and my building disdain for marvel movies. And sometimes I eat crow and have to concede that the thing everyone likes is actually good and I liked it despite not wanting to. But this time I get to bask in the deliciousness of being totally justified in hating this dumpster fire of a movie people are hyping up purely for political reasons.

It is the newest of the emperors new clothes, an empty invisible nothing burger of a movie. Boring, badly acted, poorly written, with sloppy cheap looking effects it all in all comes off more like a bad panto than a blockbuster comic movie.

The movie sort of just starts, fuck, it was so boring and unimportant I’ve actually forgotten how it starts and I literally just watched it the other day haha. Just some boring unimportant fight scene to introduce a pretty pointless character that is kinda meant to be a love interest but now that I think about it there’s literally no romantic subplot. There’s just a girl there, that’s it. “Hey here’s that girl you loved and still do” Then pretty much nothing for the rest of the movie.

The story is about the main character (not attempting to spell his name so from now on I will refer to him as ‘Timmy’) … Timmy and he’s taking over being the black panther and ruler of wakanda from his dad…

What is wakanda you ask, well it’s basically a super high tech african secret village that mastered some magic space rock and they’re super advanced but still decide who their king is by fighting with spears naked- ok.

So he goes through this whole process to strip his powers to fight his challenger and of course he wins blah blah vision quest blah blah generic south african villain blah blah blah maguffin. Jesus christ this movie is almost too tedious to review. How much money did this movie make ten billion squillion dollars – fuck people are stupid, this planet is doomed.

So they go to korea for some reason to do some stuff and then they do some stuff and there’s a really boring action sequence with spears and a magic metal car that’s bulletproof.

Oh I forgot to mention there’s like a james bond q sequence where he gets these stupid gadgets, I think one controlled a car and then it was his suit and that was it. They couldn’t even imitate james bond in an interesting way. It’s just middle of the road, so run of the mill. It’s dull and paint by numbers and one thing that really irked me is accents.

I’m actually from africa, I can tell different african accents and for being an insular secret city with alien level technology they sure do seem to have a slew of different accents even spanning the same fucking family. Timmy clearly has something like a piss poor like west african accent like some interpretation of nigerian or ugandan trying to sound like Eddie Murphy from coming to america but his own blood relation sister has a South African accent. How is this fucking possible??? It just completely took me out of the movie, destroyed immersion for me or at least it would have destroyed immersion for me if the concept of wakanda hadn’t completely decimated it already.

I get it, super magic metal make technology… good. But the levels of tech in this movie are so stupidly advanced they might as well be magic. I mean you get that in sci-fi, but it usually always skirts the line between tech and magic, this just jumps over and might as well be a fantasy movie. You have magic plants that give people super powers and magic beam spears and space ships and did I mention magic blankets that shoot blue force shields?? Did a five year old write this? Also giant war rhinos. I checked out long before they showed up though.

The story is pointless, entirely throwaway and in fact it doesn’t even start until a good hour of time wasting into the movie. ‘Your father killed my father now I’m mad’ wow.

And I’d heard reviews shitting on this movie praising Michael B Jordans performance as Killmonger but I just thought he was a generic thug. His back story and character felt rushed (probably because he was at the start and then disappeared for an hour to reappear when the filler villain died). This whole movie I felt like these people are just on a stage pretending, this is panto, it feels fake, the accents, the fights, the costumes, the sets, the conflict, I’ve never been more aware I was watching a stupid marvel movie before this.

I never really felt any emotional drive from any of the characters. Killmonger just wanted to rule wakanda and take over the world I guess, generic bad guy stuff. Send black people magic guns to liberate them from their ‘oppressors’ whoever they are. Pretty sure if they’re in african countries their oppressors will be other black people, maybe chinese now.

And there’s this constant trope of having the main villain in a marvel movie just being the main hero but evil; Ironman/ironmonger, thor/loki, antman/locust? And I’m fine with that as long as they’re distinct. When they have the same or similar powers it’s tense because they’re on equal footing and they need to be smart or lucky to win. They pull ahead with heart and guts.

But in this movie their costumes don’t even look distinct, Ironmonger was atleast a giant cool looking iron man suit. Killmonger’s suit is literally just black panthers suit but with a gold trim and it’s all cg anyway so who gives a shit? The end fight is boring and looks bad because it’s just two identical cg guys fighting over nothing. And there’s this ‘big battle’ going on outside between the bald chick and the blanket shield guys with rhinos which starts ‘because movie’ and then ends ‘because movie’.
Nothing is earned, nothing is worked for in this movie, even the end fight between panther and killmonger, panther just wins ‘because’ movie. Ironman beat ironmonger because his suit was better tested and he out smarted him with the icing problem on the suit. Panther just wins because it says so in the script.

It’s a lazy stupid arrogant movie, which I could forgive if the acting were good or the action were entertaining but it’s not. I can say I enjoyed parts of Batman vs Superman because of the action and some of the visuals while still panning it as ultimately uninspired. It still took some risks, black panther is just mindless, a bubblegum movie lacking in any nutritious content with a trite sickly sweet message at the end that felt tacked on.

I’d say save your money but you already done spent it, it’s just another marvel movie that serves no other purpose but selling action figures and happy meals and pushing sequel bait and this just the latest and laziest entry in that pile of movies that history will ultimately forget.

See you…

0

Diana After Dark Chapter 14 ‘Two Way Street’

Herro seniors and seniorittas (I don’t care if that’s spelled right).

It’s been a very eventful week and by eventful I mean I did pretty much nothing but I feel good about it.

Yeah, well erm I didn’t do anything very constructive but the love life front magically out of nowhere seems to be wonderful again thankfully, like waking up from a bad dream almost. Or maybe it’s just a really good dream.

I watched Black Panther… and I fucking hated it haha. Well I was sort tossing between incredibly bored and just indifferent to it which translates to hate for me haha. If I don’t care about the story or characters and think the action is dull and uninspired with bad acting and storytelling and then think to myself; “Actually the early noughties fantastic 4 movies were pretty good” thats pretty bad to me haha. But I’ll probably do a more in depth review on it tomorrow.

As far as work is concerned (I mean real work not work work) I’ve been thinking about Cur the fantasy novel I’ve had on slow boil in my head and I think I finally cracked what I needed to get it off the ground in the old head oven, turn up the heat a little to a nice steady simmer haha. I was thinking about the witcher and the rich folklore it borrows from and I decided to go folklore shopping as you do and my babymama has always been a big fan of faeries and the fae and I thought that would be an interesting start.

So I started researching and I went through germanic and slavic folktales until I finally found my way to the celtic book of invasions and it just seemed to fit somehow. And on top of that it seemed fresh and good and it hasn’t been done before or at least done to death like the nordic and germanic folklore. 

I just started to look into it and it started to paint a picture in my head, to get back to the cooking analogy, it added a spice I was missing, it added a base to work from and it’s really coming together in my head and just thinking about it is really fun. Honestly pretty excited about it, I haven’t put much down on paper but it’s getting there in my head, momentum is building, I just need to keep working the steel a little.

Yeah a blacksmithing analogy is more manly than cooking, I should change to that haha. Can’t be bothered and go back and change my previous analogies, whatever.

Anyway I really like the way its going and I’m so glad that it’s stoking a fire in me just to stop me from rushing into another Diana book before it’s properly formed. The timing is  just too perfect and I’m really excited. Before I was a little hesitant because I didn’t really know what direction I wanted to take it in or have any real narrative, now I have too many ways to go and I’m loving it. I have my cool names, I have my cool location, I have my cool characters and I didn’t just pull it out of my ass.

It’s not going to be about faeries but it’s going to be about the world before faeries, it’s faeries the prequel with all the dark gritty stuff left in, culminating in the death of the gods and magic and the birth of faeries, which are this diminished forms of these old gods.

Anyway wasted enough time today, I need to do some spamming maybe and maybe some more proof reading I guess if I have time. Also I need to go over the Diana pitch another time for good measure and absorb more celtic folklore.

Gone back to the excerpt style just for a more bite size blog, so click the link to read the full devilishly delicious chapter on inkitt.

See you…

Two Way Street

~

Whatever the esoteric message of the photocopy meant I didn’t have enough time to make any sense of it. As a tight popping cracking noise of a microphone being tapped and tested and then a nasally voice filled the whole room.

“Folks, can I have your attention please.” Principle Maria Petro said. She stood looking over us from the balcony dressed a little like a character from the fifth element in a leopard print onesie? Cat suit? What are those called? Which actually fit with the neon space jungle theme. She was a short stodgy woman with a nest of badly dyed hair that looked a little like ramen noodles. She stood in what looked like a brightly lit star gate or arch, her hair done up as high as it would go. Thankfully it was high ceiling without any fans or low hanging lights. Her face a perfect mask of confidence and years of stored up aggression from dealing with the most spoiled kids on earth. All the make up in the world couldn’t cover up those frown lines. “Ahem Good evening everybody, I hope you’re all having a great time.” Paused for effect. Looking down at her subjects expecting an answer or maybe an uproarious applause. She cleared her throat and continued on without it. “It’s my pleasure to announce this year’s senior prom queen and king.”

I made my way back over to Paul, strategically elbowing people in their solar plexuses. Solar plexi? Swimming through the crowd, only spilling about half the contents of each cup on other people’s rented shoes. I handed him one. “Thanks”. He smiled for a moment and then stood bolt upright and his eyes got a little wider.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Err”.

“Don’t say shit” A coiled voice hissed.

“Wendy?”

“No it’s the fucking tooth fairy”

“What are you?” Paul asked looking over his shoulder keeping his neck stiff.

Wendy moved out his large shadow and poked him in the side with that deadly DG purse, her hand inside it. I imagined not clasped around her lip gloss. Her hair was coming undone, rogue strands now sticking in places to her patchy fake tan, running from the sweat. “Brodie stood me up” She said shooting me a glare like it was my fault. “They’re about to announce it now and the queen needs a king comprende?” She spat through her expensive bridgework. “So I’m just gonna borrow yours, you got a problem with that?”

“Err-“ I said eloquent and loquacious as ever.

“It’s ok, it’s cool.” Paul said as he tried his best not to look as stiff as Frankenstein’s monster with a hand up his ass.

“Walk” She said still looking at me.

He resisted the urge to raise his hands like a hostage and started to pad slowly towards the stage stairs.

There was no direct access to the stage. Wendy poked him through a set of stage doors and they disappeared hopefully to reappear on the other side of the star gate in one piece. But there was an awfully long pause and silence that followed.

“I’m happy to announce” Principle Pietro unsealed a sparkly envelope, very glamorous. She unsheathed a gold piece of card. “This years prom king and queen are-“ A sudden interruption, a dull pop and then another and then a shrill scream.

The room froze trying to recognise the sound.

Wendy burst out onto the stage the small pistol in her hand. A ruby red stream of blood flowing from a broken nose but no Paul to be seen.

“Gimme that!” she said as she snatched the studded prom queen tiara from Principle Pietro’s hand shoving her out of the way. She tried to pin it to her head with gun still in her hand. Once it was level she scanned the room of all the faces still frozen in stunned silence. Her existence now a morbid curiosity, a downward spiral, a car crash happening in slow motion and then she saw me looking up at her. The part of me that was really me wondering if Paul was still alive, the other part that was distinctly darker and couldn’t keep the smirk off my face. Here I was, a peasant in the crowd watching a debutante fall face first in the mud and I couldn’t stop the muscles in my face tensing into something like a smile.

“Fucking bitch this is all your fault!” She screamed and started firing wildly into the crowd I happened to be mingled in. The tiara drooping down and getting tangled in her hair as she cried.

Luckily at this range that little gun was about as deadly as a spud gun and there was just far too much confusion to hit anyone in particular. The crowd predictably woke from their frozen morbidity. Erupting into a flurry of fight or flight lizard brain comprehension. Stampeding towards the nearest exit. Climbing all over each other so as not to become the lucky recipient of a nine millimetre kiss blown from a killer queen.

My first instinct unlike that of a mere prey species was not to fight or to flight but to hide and wait and watch and see. I told myself I couldn’t leave without knowing what happened to Paul. He wouldn’t abandon me and I couldn’t let my mask slip off completely without at least trying to save it. What kind of girlfriend would I be if I just ran and melted into the maddening crowd of lurching farm animals and left him to bleed to death?

The exits were currently expurgating a constant stream of furious humanity. The true meaning of an ancient roman vomitorium now fully realized. Another fortuitous exit was marked out for me with a sign above the alcove that read “The glow zone”.

I broke from the herd and darted for the exit looking up to make sure she noticed I was distinct from the throng. She cursed in spanish and fired a warning shot over the bow of the balcony missing and chipping the horsehead ice sculptor, “Go Trojans”.

 

 

0

GS2 Chapter 16 ‘Get at Me’

Good day humanoid creatures, not excluding non-euclidian slime constructs too un-nameably horrible to describe of course. Wouldn’t want to transdimensional amorphous nightmare shame.

It’s that time again, for me to talk words again, basically ramble about nonsense and then copy pasta a chapter from my nonsensical books and disappear into the ether yet again.

So been mostly just proofreading 3 ring, should really be putting some finishing touches on my Diana pitch but I just got let back on facebook so I’m too busy shitposting and spamming haha.

Also been watching the new season of Bosch and wishing I could write serious stuff, the closest thing to that is Diana, a story about  teenage serial killer. Although The One That Came Back is played serious and it’s actually doing really well on Inkitt.

But I’m itching to write the next Diana book, I just really want back into that world so bad, but something is telling me it’s too soon. I need a push really, trying to conjure it up because I wanted to start it this week but I might just work on Cur instead and push it along. It has to be just right, I can’t force it, it needs to come naturally and at the right time. Has to be organic. I want to savour it, I don’t want to rush it.

I really don’t know what I want to do with myself, I’ve been reading the second Witcher book Blood of Elves for inspiration and it’s far better than the first so far in that it’s actually a book and not a witcher cheesy clip show haha.
Y’all know I only rag on the witcher out of insecurity haha. It’s so well written it makes me sad, like how can I write something even close to on par with this? Even if the first one’s story didn’t make much sense. 
Again any gripes I have with this book are pure insecurity on my part  and I accept this fully and strive to be comparable. So far in the book not much has happened and I’m a fair way through it, around chapter 2 and these are pretty long chapters. But so far all that’s happened is a bunch of people talking for the purposes of world building and then the least interesting characters talk about the most interesting characters and then Triss goes to the witchers castle (I thought I could spell it, not even gonna try haha). No real action yet which is disappointing since the first book starts really strong. It’s not two minutes into the first book before he’s slicing up fools and then having a fight with a striga.

But this book seems content with describing mountains to an insane level detail that are sort of a waste of time. I dunno like if I wrote this stuff my editor would have cut it out. Is it essential to have every crag on the mountain described? I mean I like it, it makes me feel like I’m there but it isn’t propelling the story and there kind of isn’t one yet. There is no propelling narrative other than Ciri is special for reasons and shadowy men want at her. It’s making me want to play the games again though haha. I dunno like I loved the games and people were constantly praising the story and I thought it was bog standard ‘save the princess’ stuff with a few twists here and there where the princess is also a bad ass which also now isn’t a twist.

Although it never really felt forced with Ciri because it’s not implied that Ciri is more skilled than Geralt, despite Ciri having the powers of the elder blood. I think that transfers to the games too. There’s a distinct different feel when you swap between her and Geralt with all his cool powers and tonics and gadgets and her magic warping powers.

Still a fantastic game that deserves all the praise it gets which pissed me off at the time because I really wanted to be an uber edgelord and hate it haha.

Anyway enough rambling please to read my insanity, thanking you.

*Oh snap, almost forgot to mention Inkitt got back to me about 3 ring not being approved and they were all like “You used ‘unfamiliar characters'” or something along those lines so for a few minutes I felt decidedly silly. Until I realised the characters they were referring to were separators I use as a scene brake, aka something I’ve used in every one of my stories up til now, really gets the old noggin’ joggin’ there don’t it haha?

See you…

Get at me

~

There was a quiet ferreting knock at the chief’s office door.

“Err, chief?”

“Shhh, go away, I’m not coming out until the national guard show up!” The chief whispered.

“But sir, I don’t think we can stay here.” Coral said through the door of the chief’s office.

A rustling noise came from behind the door and an irritated clicking. The chief popped his head and the barrel of his colt python through the tight gap and spat “Coral! Go the fuck away or so help me- oh jesus!” He said as he looked past Coral at the dismay of the office. The spent cartridges and the bodies and little fires dying.

“It doesn’t get much better from there sir, erm, the building is being sieged.” Coral said. The chief gingerly entered the destroyed office.

“Sieged?” He said looking back.

“Yes sir, erm, by giant stuffed animals, or something.”

“What?” He said scrunching his fat face up.

–

The side fire door creaked open cautiously.

“Well they look like stuffed animals and they kill people, it’s hard to explain” Coral said as he went through the door. It was morning now, the sun was up and beaming cosmic rays of joy onto the snowy chaos.

“Wait Coral-“ The chief put his hand up to shush Coral. The python fully erect in his other hand as they heard these noises building. A distant whooping sound coming over the horizon. Dark blots looming, masked by the bright morning sun.

“What is it?”

“They’re here, we’re saved” The chief said smiling, holstering his gun and hiking his belt over his fat gut.

“Who’s here?”

“The national guard, the cavalry, the army, whoever.” He said turning back to Coral. Coral cupped his hands to protect from the glare of the sun. He could just make out their outlines and the spinning blades of helicopters whisking up the cold mountain air.

“Helicopters?” As if summoned by his words they passed overhead with a triumphant whooshing of air. He could almost hear in his mind the sound of flight of the valkries or some doors song from a vietnam movie.

“Damn straight, U.S.A Coral, we’re gonna be o-k, we’re-” He smiled and looked off into the bright sun, warming his face. “We’re gonna be just fi-“ His sentence cut off by a giant metal canister pulping him against the concrete. His guts and brains splattering Coral like they were thrown over him with a bucket.

Coral stopped dead in his tracks, dazed. He scooped his bosses guts out of his eyes allowing him to see a sleek pod of some sort. Slaked in the remaints of the fat police chief glistening in the mid morning sun.

–

The door of the atv clicked and opened. The limp body of the Frenchman rolled out of the driver’s seat onto the concrete garage floor. Falling like a dead gold fish getting poured into a toilet bowl.

The back passenger seat opened and Sunday climbed down from the high atv. Her long smooth naked legs gliding past eachother as she walked over towards the Frenchman. She padded him for his guns and ammo. She pulled the nine from his grip and the extra clip and threw it onto the front passenger seat. He lay lifeless on his back, eyes closed like he was sleeping.

When she was done she walked over to her headless body, the only sounds; her bare feet on the cold concrete. She looked down at it, pausing for a moment of thought, it looked so, pathetic. Smaller than her for some reason, sad like broken doll parts. Sighing or making some quiet noise to herself she started undressing her corpse. An odd tussle, like undressing a clothes store mannequin. The clothes seemed tighter, like the body was expanding or the clothes shrank in the cold.

When it was naked it looked even sadder, limp but getting colder and more rigid. She looked down at her headless bodies ankle and saw a small icecream tattoo. Looking down at her own ankle noticing it wasn’t there she got a strange creeping feeling. She was literally standing over her own grave.

She started to dress, the clothes were cold and crisp and felt itchy on her skin for some reason. It was unpleasant but better than freezing to death out there.

“So that’s how it is huh?”

Sunday zipped up her jacket and turned nonchalant to her other and said nothing. Her clone was coming out of the drivers seat still naked. Her skin getting more opaque but still white and slick looking.

Sunday ignored her and moved to the front of the atv pulling the corpse of her other clone off the hood by the ankle.

It was surprisingly light and came off with almost a single tug. It was a little too fast and the height and softness of the skull made a mess on Sunday’s shoes as it hit the concrete floor.

“Fucking great” She sighed.

“So you’re just going to ignore me?” The other one said.

Sunday passed her and stopped, looking at her hand. Her fingers had grown back, no scars, no nothing, like it never happened.

She walked over to her bat lying on the floor. Looking at the remnants of BJ strewn across the floor. Then over in the corner at Jimmies body slumped with a bullet in the head. She picked it up deliberately like it was cursed, letting its teeth scrape along the floor.

“You think this is a dream?” Her other said. “You can just leave me here, naked, alone and you and the fat kid are just gonna what? Drive off into the sunset?”

Sunday continued to ignore her like she wasn’t there. She moved to the rear passenger seat door to check on TJ. She opened the door and he was still passed out. She checked his finger, it was still missing, no point in trying to find it now, but the bleeding had stopped. She checked his pulse and his temperature, he was cold but his breathing was solid. She pulled his coat over him like a blanket and closed the door again. Without changing her expression from stolid concern.

She breathed in and out deep as she leaned against the door. Her face cold and contorting. Angry tired tears building up at corners of her eyes, kept in check by a bottled frustration.

“You’re a freak, he’ll know that soon enough, what’s the point in hiding it?” The other said. “Look at me, you’re not even human anymore.”

Sunday wiped her face and sniffed with a rising righteous anger. She ripped the drivers side door of the atv open and climbed in and slammed the door behind her. She sighed and fumbled for the keys in the pocket of her jacket and started up the engine.

It was quiet again, in her mind, in the garage; only the roaring hum of the engine. She rested her arms across the steering wheel. Dropping her head against them and started to weep softly.

“What makes you any more special than me?” The other said pressing against the drivers side door looking at her through the open window. “You were here first, is that how it is? You’re not speci-.“ A nine millimitre bullet shredding through her eyesocket shut her up. Sunday sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand with the nine in it. She licked her lips and swallowed. Her throat was raw now and her face was burning, the sound of the gunshot seemed to go on and on.

The body of the other still stood for a moment like a broken animatronic. Then crumpling under it’s own weight like it was made of coathangers and spackle. Hitting the concrete with a strange wet slapping noise.

She cursed herself and angrily threw the gun out of the car, like it was to blame.

Sunday bit her lip, scrunching up her face, mad, at herself, at everything she couldn’t change. She turned the rearview mirror to look at herself and attempted a limp cocky smile. Then dropped it like it weighed a tonne. She turned the mirror back and started the engine.

A ringing noise started as if out of nowhere, a phone?

–

A call came in on Jaclyn’s laptop, she answered hastily, her little heart pumping.

Macintosh’s strangely bulbous head came into to view, maybe he was just standing too close to his webcam.

“It’s time gender non-conforming humanoids. Pack up, we need to move fast, I’ve marked the cache on your map.” He made that effeminate sucking noise again and said nothing.

“Got it Mac, come on everyone, we need to move.” Jaclyn said in a peppy camp councillor voice. To which everyone collectively groaned and eye rolled.

“Hey, I’m the leader here” Juanita said spitting half chewed chirros out of her mouth. “I tell us to go” She paused “Let’s go everyone! What are we waiting for?”

Kat was even more jittery now. Her hands shaking as she opened the blinds “It’s good, cost seems clear, I don’t think any normal people are even awake yet.”

Roch hopped out of her seat and walked up to the window next to Kat and said “Finally, lets get out of this shithole.”

Kat looked at her and sneered “You brush your teeth with shit?”

Roch looked at her and said “Fuck you” storming off, with her back turned breathing into her hand and sniffing it.

“Is this thing working or not, piece of crap?” Juanita said getting in the face of the monster they had on loan from Lysander labs, unofficially.

“Erm, it should be working, I think it’s just in like on standby, power saving mode, ya know?” Jaclyn said.

“Well we need it now, wake it the fuck up!” Juanita said shaking her head with a latin bob.

“Ok let me just-” She started tapping at her laptop.

“Wakey wakey” Juanita started to tap at it’s large misshapen head like she was knocking on a door.

The thing started to shake. It lumbered forward but now its spine started to straighten and it was a huge thing once again. It’s eye red and glowing.

“We’ve got work to do”

“WORK” The thing said robotically.

–

“What the fudge” Coral said as he slopped gore onto the back parking lot of his former office.

The canister was shaped like an egg, like one of those things covered in chocolate you get kids toys out of. But the seam was at the front and it had a see-through window.

Some strange force compelled his curiosity to overreach his abstract horror and desire to not be dismembered. He got close enough to look to crane his neck over the steaming mess of his former boss to look inside.

Before he could get close enough the door in the front opened with a hiss of nmeutatics and a cloud of steam. Then a rattling clicking noise. Something quick and small launched itself into the mist.

Carl coughed and blinked, taking off his glasses and rubbing his nose. He tried to clear the smoke and then blinked again as he saw a squat figure hunched over by the pod.

“Err, are you lost kid, do you need me to find your parents” Carl said, half dazed by a chunk of brain hitting him in the face.

“Kid?” The figure said, shaking.

The smoke cleared and the figure stood to a less than impressive five foot nothing. He turned without moving his feet. An unnatural pose, turning his spine around revealing a young fresh face. Maybe even some freckles and a tuft of light coloured hair. Which was poking out of what looked like a chrome centurion helmet.

He was what looked like a fourteen year old kid wearing a skin tight jumpsuit. The suit looked vaguely metallic covered in exagonal scales. His arms and legs encased in some kind of weird layered armor.

“Are you here for that furry convention? Are you one of those Larpers? I used to play dungeons and dragons as a kid, I’m kinda cool for an adult.” Coral was rambling.

The kid grinned, his eyes were weird, one blue one green. A section of the centurion helmet came down and locked in place hiding his face. A thin strip of light behind a glass visor.

“Oh that’s cool, did you make that yourself? Is this from an anime I haven’t seen yet?”

The kid kept smiling with his eyes as if by magic a beanstalk started to grow. He was getting taller.

“What the heck?”

The kids legs and arms were getting longer and thinner and sharper. The armor on his arms and legs were telescopic, extending like a pointer. Growing long and gangly but still rigid and strong, his limbs were thin and monstrous like a metal spider’s legs. He’d grown to a height of at least nine feet tall.

One hand reached back, the dexterity was still as precise as if it was his real hand. The limbs moved effortlessly, quick and responsive. His left hand gripped at a raised portion of the back of his suit. It began to pull at some long strange soft metallic object, like it was made of fabric or a thin mail chain.

Pulling it out it was appeared to be some kind of silvery baton, a completely unremarkable piece of metal.

“Err that’s kind of cool”

The kid chuckled, his voice enhanced by the visor to sound deeper and more monstrous. Inside the visor he smiled, bright lights illuminating his face.

The kid pressed an almost invisible button on the underside of the baton. The pod he arrived in started to vibrate the ground under it. Hatches at the side opening a gasp of hissing mneumatics. Two ufos shot out spinning too fast to keep track of. The pod hatches closed. An indecernible lump of flesh from the chief plopped onto the ground taking on no real shape, making a grotesque sound.

Whipping wurring noise sounded. The light and the speed made it impossible to see what the two objects flying through the air were. Just glimpses through the corner of Coral’s eyes. Brief flashes like cars passing too fast reflecting the light. A wooshing noise around his ear and a brief flits of fast moving air, his hair parting.

The two pieces locked into place at the end of the dull metal shaft the kid was holding. Forming a long chrome double headed lance.

Carl began to clap nervously like he just saw a clown juggling flaming chainsaws.

The Lancer cringed as he felt a wave of condescension coming from the gangly dispatcher. Pity applause. A fearful uproarious clapping.

“That was, uhm, something else” Coral said laughing uncomfortably. “Oh I get it now, you’re like an anime mash up of Inspector gadget. ” He laughed. “Should have known by the gogo gadget extending arms, wow, how long did it take to make all this stuff?”

A light flashed in the Lancer’s helmet. On the inside a screen was illuminated. Directives, written in a standard type font it read “Contain infection, Kill fatso”.

The lancer scanned the skinny dispatcher and there was zero threat. He was unarmed and unoffensive.

Still, feeling slighted. He turned his lance over and pressed a button. A quick roaring noise launched the end of his lance at an inhuman speed like a rocket.

Coral ducked grabbing his head, cowering holding onto his butt.

He looked around and he was intact, not a scratch. He shrieked as he looked at the wall of the police station. A foot away from where his head was was the other end of the lance stuck at least a six inches into the wall’s structure.

The Lancer was walking away and Coral shakily called out “Hey, you forgot your, err, thing!”

The Lancer lifted his lance without looking back and pressed another button. The lance in the wall started to wiggle like a tooth being extracted. The wall shaking, it sounded like it was drilling it’s way out.

In an instant it burst loose with a cough of cement dust and rubble. Shooting back onto the other end of the lance with a thin sheen of masonry dust and a clicking noise.

Coral breathed a sigh of relief before the entire wall collapsed on him, crushing him to death.

0

Gingerbread

I try to be sad,

Brought down by the wind and rain.

Those cold slate grey skies.

 

You wont let me be,

Every waking moment,

You fill it with light.

 

When I want shadow,

You come and chase them away,

Beaming like the sun.

0

3 Ring Samurai Chapter 2 ‘Masked Avengers’ *Content too hot for inkitt haha*

Ok so this is a first.

I’m kinda surprised actually that it took this long but as of today this is the first story that has been rejected, I repeat ‘REJECTED’ from inkitt haha. 
Maybe it’s something to do with the a clown samurai killing a hillybilly tranny in the first chapter haha.

But yeah, this is now an exclusive to my site story, novelette series because it’s too hot for inkitt, because fuck if I’m changing it. I’m not altering it one iota for some pc culture bullshit coming from germany of all places (imagun mi sherk!). They can fuck right off, I’ll just fight it and see what they have to say and have a damn good laugh doing it haha.

So that’s a thing and if you’re on my mailing list right now there should be a nice little copy or two of two of ‘the’ best e-novellas in the world written by yours truly with all the love attention and wit I could muster stored inside them. If you’re not on my mailing and just joining, you’ll have to wait until next month.

Arms literally feel like noodles, last month of the heavy lifting routine then gonna move onto some lifting cardio type things to mix it up a bit.

Aside from all this bullshit, I did finish the first part of 3 Ring and it’s pretty fun. I don’t know if I’ll move onto the next, I might just keep it episodic and keep coming back to it. As soon as I finished the first part I started jotting down ideas for the Cur the fantasy novel I’ve been brewing.

It’s helping a lot reading on into the second witcher book, although I read it and there is a lot of world building that people think is essential to a fantasy book which I find sort of superfluous. I mean it sounds great and all but all you’re doing is talking about a story within a story while I’m I don’t know how man chapters into the Blood of elves and Geralt hasn’t even shown up yet haha. 
So you’re like stuck with probably the least likeable characters in the series; Dandilion and Yennifer talking about Geralt and Ciri.
I also found the intro super generic, I don’t know how many fantasy stories that started with a battle or some kind of horrific event described from the perspective of a little girl or something. I dunno, it just seemed kind of cringe worthy and I’d rather it from Geralt’s perspective and had more action. It was just like action without any actual action. Like ‘Look at all that action going on over there isn’t great?’.

I finished editing the chunk of Diana after Dark I got back from Chrissy, awaiting the next chunk. Paying for it in segments because I am broke haha. I’m just chomping at the bit to start throwing this at agents but I have to be patient, I can’t start emailing people until the package is ready to ship. I need to take my time with this one, I won’t get another after this.

That’s all for now, if this was available on inkitt I would have posted a link but sadly it is not haha.
But still head on over to inkitt or wherever you spot me on social media and send me happy joyjoy feeling.

Also fuck inkitt haha.

See you…

_

A flock of bird-like creatures flapped their misshapen black wings blocking out the sun as they passed. Making an ear aching warbling sqwarking noise. Their shadows passed over the mound of garbage left by the circus caravan. As their shadows passed and their dirty black feathers fell; seven humanoid shapes started to appear. The curtain of shadow slowly rising to reveal a group of odd hooded figures picking over the mound like carrion. Their movements light and ethereal like the spirits of the dead looking for unfinished business.

 

“He’s not here” One of the figures said.

 

The figure at the front turned his head, the orange bill of a strange vaudevillian duck mask he wore protruding out. The emerald green paint was dull and faded and chipped. With what looked like deep gouges and cuts. “I can see that.”

 

~

 

The crowds cheering became a dull metronome in his head slowing in time with his heartbeat. He felt the warm spray of the blood on his face, the woodchips shifting under his feet. The steel biting into bone and sinew, the smell of cheap popcorn, candy floss and vomit.

 

The sword in his hand laughing, laughing, endlessly laughing, never satisfied. Grey flesh shifting in front of him, an endless see of grey leathery flesh. The crowd are replaced with a stampede of raging elephants coming at him from all around. His enemies replaced with grey flesh and tusks and trunks getting closer and he can’t escape.

 

Pookie woke in a cold sweat, he wheezed as the pain in his side came back and his hood came off. He must have made a sound because some old geezers on a table in the back were laughing at him. He quickly pulled the hood back up over his head. He must have dozed off for a moment with his head down on a table in the only watering hole in the town he just left behind. He picked up a long coat with a hood and a scarf to cover his face from a washing line on his way in and was trying to keep a low profile until he could move on.

 

Three old geezers were yammering incessantly to each other as they played some card game.

 

“Who’s turn is it again?” The old coot in the straw hat said.

 

“It’s your turn you old coot!” The old coot with the corn cob pipe said.

 

“Yeah it’s your turn and we’ve been waiting!” The old coot with the slack jaw said.

 

“Goddamn ungrateful sumbitches. You wouldn’t even have this place lest I built it with my own two hands” Strawhat said banging his old fist against the table.

 

“You built it?” Corncob said pointing his pipe.

 

“Is that right? Slackjaw said drooling a little and staring at the ceiling fan.

 

“Yeah I built this whole town after the real badness with my two good buddies” Strawhat said scratching his grizzled chin.

 

“We’re the two good buddies you’re talking about” Corncob said gesturing at himself with the pipe.

 

“Yup” Slackjaw said.

 

“I planted all the crops and put up all the fences with the sweat of my back.” Strawhat whined

 

“I planted those crops right along with ya” Corncob scowled.

 

“Me too” Slackjaw said.

 

“You was always planting crops of a different kind though” Strawhat said giving him a sideways glance through tight wrinkly slits. “To think I was a big guy on wallstreet before the crash”

 

“I thought it was a zombie apocalypse” Corncob mused

 

“Wasn’t it a solar flare?” Slackjawed dozed.

 

“Zambies? You see any zambies around? Strawhat said.

 

“I seen plenty of’em, I’m looking at one right now!” Corncob chuckled.

 

“I killed a zombie once” Slack jaw said. “Hit it with a shovel”.

 

“Nevermind about that, those damn circus folk come here every goddamn year and rob us of our hard earned food. Leave us barely enough to get through the season – and they steal our kids for their goddamn shows. It’s like those damn white haired guys from that videogame, what was it called, the snitcher 11?.

 

“You don’t have any kids and you don’t have any vidya games neither” Corncob said as he chewed his pipe and looked over his cards.

 

“Grand kids” Slack jaw said.

 

“Your grand kids all left for the circus!” Strawhat said.

 

“Little bastards!” Corncobs said staring at his cards like he wanted to fight them.

 

“Ungrateful little shits!” Slawjaw yawned.

 

“And for what?” Strawhat said thoughtfully looking at his hand.

 

“I don’t even like the circus” Corncob said.

 

“It clears out the jails I guess” Slackjaw said wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

 

“I bet half of’em are innocent” Strawhat interjected pursing his lips.”No trials or nothing.”

 

“I wish someone would come along and wipe’em all out” Corncob said biting down on his pipe.

 

“Yeah so someone worse can take their place I’ll bet.” Slack jaw said.

 

“Yep sounds about right.” Strawhat said.

 

“Uh huh” Corncob said.

 

“Yup.” Slackjaw agreed.

 

“Oh yeah” Strawhat said as he studied his hand. “I fold.”

 

“Oh goddamit” Corncob spat.

 

“Everytime” Slackjaw sighed.

 

“Shut it you old coots!” A large man with a head like bowling ball with a thin strip of hair on it shouted over a pool table.

 

He and a group of solid citizens wearing loose dirty coveralls were loitering around the pool table cursing and talking about women.

 

It was a small border town that Pookie hadn’t actually set foot in before. The circus set up further out and then carnys would put up posters telling people where and when they’d be there. No one had actually seen his face but it just made sense not to make a big song and dance about the tattoos.

 

The bar was laid out adjacent to the saloon style doors. Pookie had picked a spot right at the back, parallel to the bar so he could watch the door without being spotted right away.

 

The poker game quieted down as a tall slim young man walked cockily through the swing doors smiling like he owned the place and everyone in it. The old hag behind the bar smiled at him and greeted him like she was his nurse maid.

 

“Morning Pete” She said with a lilting fondness in her voice.

 

“That’s deputy Pete” He laughed feigning an air of formality, and then dropping his elbows on the bar like a kid about to ask for a strawberry milkshake. “Morning Ethel, hows it hanging?” He smirked tipping up his ten gallon hat that looked just a little too big for his head and a little too small for his cocky smirk.

 

“Lower everyday” She cackled.

 

He laughed as a formality but Pookie felt a crude and quick searching glance. Then he saw the light hit the sheriff star and he tensed up and lowered his head. “What’s the agenda for the day?”

 

“Same old, same old, pick up after these old bastards, maybe mop up some vomit and break up a fight, whoop de fucking doo.” She said with her hands on her wide hips.

 

“Absolutely thrilling, as always Ethel-“ He stood erect and adjusted his gunbelt. Took another shrewd but casual glance towards the back of the saloon sighed and wet his lips. “Welp, you keep me posted now.” He smiled wide and said “Just holler and I’ll come a running.”

 

“I’m sure you will” She said with an added withering glance.

 

He laughed and tipped his hat again before walking out the way he came.

 

Pookie knew he couldn’t stay here all day, but he didn’t know what else to do. He had to find a place to rest before he could move on and even then he had no idea where he was going or even had a reason to go. What choice did he have but the life of a wanderer?

 

Waiting around here made him a little too conspicuous. Even with the coat and scarf he stuck out like a sore thumb in a town that probably didn’t get a lot of visitors.

 

He shuffled along the booth he was sitting in, doing his best to hide the sword on his hip under the long coat and he walked out of the saloon. It was midday by the time he got to the town, so it was getting cooler in the afternoon. The sun slipping behind the rows of houses and stores along the mainstreet. The town was basically one street lined with business and the more houses on the outer sides making up the backstreets. All the houses looked like they were cobbled together from old furniture and packing crates.

 

Making his way through the alleys and side streets to avoid undo attention was his best bet. But apparently he’d already failed at it if heavy footfalls padding in the dirt was any indication.

 

He turned keeping his head dipped and saw the solid citizens from the pool game, bowling ball head standing in front still with the pool cue in his hand.

 

The sun seemed to shift and duck behind the houses again and cast the alley into a cool semi-shadow and for a moment they said nothing.

 

“Yyyou think I wouldn’t recognise you?” Bowling ball head stammered, his tongue loose and full of spittle. “Tttthhis is a small town, strangers like you stick out like a boil on a hhhhogs ass!”

 

Pookie looked him up and down and said nothing.

 

“Yyyou think you’re too good to talk to me?” He said as he squeezed the pool cue in his hands. “Yyyyou don’t look so tough without your fffreakshow pals” He looked around at the swelling faces of his hapless cohorts. “Ttten tickets say I can take him on my own”

 

“Yeah go for it Bully!”

 

“I’ll take that!

 

“Break his ass Bull!”

 

Bull smirked with a wide open half toothy grin. “I’m gggonna kick your ass!”

 

Pookie tossed the hem of his coat back revealing the hilt of the sword with the silly face.

 

“Yyyyou’re not allowed that, nnnno weapons in the city limits, ttthose the rules.” He said as he turned to look at his buddies.

 

“Heh, he doesn’t know anything”

 

“What an r-tard”

 

“Yeah, r-tard.

 

“Ggguess I’ve got to ttteach you a lesson.” he said like a basic bitch anime villain. Without turning, looking with the corner of his eye he swung the pool cue in an upward arch trying to catch Pookie under the chin. All he saw was a ridiculous clown face pommel coming at him like a freight train right between the eyes.

 

Pookie pulled at a decorative yellow ring attached to a string like the rip cord on a parachute, pulling it as if he was starting a lawn mower. It made a strange noise like a kazoo or some kind of wind up toy as it propelled the sword out of the sheathe. Rocketing the clown face pommel into the middle of Bull’s bowling ball head. Unleashing the cringe inducing mechanical laughing sound and sending Bully reeling backwards followed by an arc of thick red blood and snot.

 

He bent over and groaned with his hand over his face and said “Yyyyou broke my nose, you mmmmother fucker!”

 

The sword hadn’t fully left the sheathe and Pookie let gravity pull it back in with a click. The string he pulled retracted quickly back into the scabbard with a tinny mechanical noise.

 

Bully looked at the blood in his hand as he took it away from his face and he got redder in the cheeks and seemed to stand a foot taller. “Iiiit’s on now” He said as he took the pool cue and snapped it easily into two sharp stakes.

 

Pookie made his eyes into hard uncaring slits, threw his hood back and moved his sword around to the front of his draw string belt.

 

A loud thunderclapping sound stopped them all in their tracks. Bull with the sharp stakes in his hand and Pookie with his thumb in the ring of the pull string on his scabbard.

 

“Well that didn’t take long did it” The voice from behind the crowd of yokels said. “First day in my town and you’re already causing trouble, and you wonder why folks don’t like outsiders.” The deputy pushed through the crowd as he holstered his gun and walked up to Pookie and had a good look at him. ”Especially outsiders who look like you” he said jutting his jaw out and tutting.

 

The deputy turned around and looked at the crowd both his thumbs under his gun belt “You’ll relinquish your weapon and accompany me to the local jail.” He turned to Pookie and pursed his lips, “Well?” He put his hand out.

 

Pookie looked at him, narrowing his eyes and he took hold of his sword by the scabbard gripping it firmly.

 

After a moment of silence, only the wind and their breath making a sound. Pookie lifted the sword out of the cradle of his belt and put in the Deputies hand.

 

The Deputy looked it up and down and it was a strange thing to behold, multi-coloured like a lollipop with seemingly useless tassles and ball-balls hanging off the scabbard and the unusual pommel.

 

“Well you don’t see that everyday.” He looked up from the odd blade and then gestured with the hilt “Welp, I aint got all eternity, follow me.”

 

The two men passed the crowd who sniggered.

 

“What are you giggling like school girls for, you’re all coming too, more the merrier at this barbecue.”

 

“Aww come on Pete” The crowd collectively groaned.

 

“Wwwhat for? He the one done broke my nose!” Bull spat.

 

“Public assholery, not being welcoming to our new guest” Deputy Pete quipped. He gestured with the sword. “Move on now”

 

They all groaned and dipped their heads like school kids as they followed him towards the jail.

 

~

 

“Sch-a-gdm-pssy” The trapper in the dungarees blubbered “Guy-kilt-yer-kin-cnt-ebn-shoot!” He was frantically rummaging around in drawers trying to pack a threadbare suitcase, tears and snot streaming down his face.

 

“Is this a bad time?” A voice said behind him.

 

He craned his neck around to see a man dressed in a long dark raincoat with a hood wearing a dark green duck mask standing in his open doorway. He froze like a deer in headlights and then started towards his filthy stained bed which was just a dead mattress on the floor, where his crossbow lay.

 

The man with the duck mask watched him slowly edge towards the makeshift weapon in the dingey trappers house. Which consisted of a large dirty single room operating as bedroom, kitchen and living room all in one.

 

He made it to the bed and picked up the cross bow and pointed it at the man in the duck mask.

 

“Git-ya-gdam-knky-werdo!”

 

There was a thudding skiting noise on the roof. He turned to see something that looked like a big crow in the corner of his eye flutter past the mesh windows of the house.

 

“What are you gonna do with that?” The man in the duck mask said.

 

“Git-of-mi-prprty!”

 

There was a sudden heaving creaking behind him, near the backdoor. The man in the dungarees turned to see a giant figure looming over him dressed exactly like the first but with a horrifying cracked and stained penguin mask. Black and white with some yellow around the rim and the same empty haunting hollow eyes staring at him. The man shrieked and instinctively fired the only bolt striking the monstrous figure in the shoulder.

 

But the hulking man made no sound of pain, barely reacting at all. Only lifting a gargantuan hand to snap the bolt off and the other slamming down with some sort of cudgel made of burled wood and covered in barbed wire. The blow splintered the already weakened floorboards sending the man in the dungarees down under his house.

 

Operating on survival instinct alone the man in the dungarees skittered under the house like a dung beetle looking for shade. Fighting for every terrified breath. He waited for a moment in the crawl space, holding it in, listening to the creaking of the floorboards.

 

After a moment he heard a strange whooping noise getting closer and then as it reached it’s peak he felt a stinging waft of air and then his face felt wet. But before he could inspect what it was he was shaken awake by a loud buzzing noise and a wrending of the floor boards as a slim chainsaw-like knife poked close to his face.

 

He flattened and wriggled away from it as fast as he could but the buzzing knife kept cutting until it had opened up a wide hole. A man with a turkey mask stuck his head through and looked at the man in the dungarees.The mask was a rich blue colour with a red neck.

 

“He’s here!” The man in the turkey mask said.

 

The man in the dungarees was breathing hard and sweating as he dragged himself to the edge of his house and out of the crawlspace.

 

The sun was setting and cruel twilight had descended, the sun still blinding but in a numbing darkness that surrounded the hapless figure. He touched his face and looked at his hand and there was a little blood there. He touched a small cut running down the side of his face confused, looking around.

 

There was a loud crashing sound as a man wearing a bright yellow and black finch mask landed on a junked car. He cocked his head to the side to look at the man as he turned and ran deeper into the junkyard.

 

He saw the jet black crow again in the corner of his eye hopping and bobbing on rusted out tractors and buses as he followed closely. The man in the dungarees ran frantically trying to get lost in the rusted maze he’d constructed for himself.

He quickly turned a corner around a stack of crushed cars and he saw the reflection of a slim feminine figure standing on top of them in a car window. Looking down at him with some large covered object strapped to her back, the long beak of a black and grey heron mask following him as he ran in the opposite direction.

 

The man in the duck mask yawned “Annnd I’m bored of this now.” He turned to a broad cloaked figure wearing a cardinal bird mask, a black faced bird with deep red spiked feathers at the top and around the edges. “Cardinal, if you’d be so kind.”

 

“My pleasure, Canard”.

 

Cardinal dropped off his perch on top of a rusted out trailer and landed right in front of the man in the dungarees who fell back onto his ass.

 

Cardinal laughed and let a small sickle on a chain fall out of his sleeve and land in the dust at his feet.

 

The man in the dungarees instantly started to scuttle in the opposite direction.

 

Cardinal stayed where he was and started to spin the chain over his head, letting more and more slack into it, getting faster.

 

The man in the dungarees was in a full sprint, going as fast as his little legs could carry him now straight in the opposite direction. Noticing more masks following him in the corner of his eyes as he went. He was seeing them everywhere and then suddenly something small with weight landed in front of him and he stopped in his tracks trying to see what it was.

 

Something snaked and writhed in the sand next to him. The chain growing taught and the sickle coming up and back fast cutting off his left leg and leaving him flailing on the floor in the blink of an eye.

 

He lay on his back still trying to crawl away despite bleeding profusely from his leg. He heard a fluttering light thudding noise behind him and he looked up and saw an upside down duck mask looking down at him holding a piece of shiny paper.

 

“Have you seen this clown?”

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