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Darkly Dreaming Demographic.

Where weird shit hits bizarre fans.

Author

Ryk Brink

Writer, gamer, any other sucker.

Murder me

Dreams dying alone.

Dark waves folding over me.

Light so far away.

To touch her fingers

To hear her voice in my head

Too much to ask for.

I’ll certainly die

If you don’t let me see her

Something has to break.

Cur Chapter 18 ‘Gimme the prize’

Yep this is the final chapter.
I kinda spaced, I forgot this was the final chapter, I thought there was one more and I was like “Oh that’s it” haha.

It’s fine, it’s all fine, this is only the first book, I’ve already got plans on the next, I actually might go straight into the next one because it’s shorter than another Diana book and all these rejections have made me a little gunshy. I’m not sure I could make the next one as good as the first, you know the one that is already getting shat on by every cat lady literary agent and her fucking cats!

I already have the ending of the fifth book in this series planned haha. Is that normal? I hope not. I think I need to set some time aside to plan out the next book and see if I get a jolt on it. I have a rough idea of how I want to start it, the other parts just haven’t fallen into place. The stuff, the rudimentary plot, the journey, the middle bit.

People always the most important parts of anything is the beginning and the end and I think that’s true but I’ve noticed this recent trend in movies and books to just have really middling middle bits. And it really hurts pacing because it makes a film feel shorter than it is. You need that journey to feel substantial and satisfying so if nothing really happens in the middle the whole thing collapses in on itself. it’s why you get that feeling when you watch a movie like you haven’t even really watched a movie, you just looked at some footage rolling over your eyes for a couple of hours. It’s because it’s not paced like the movies you actually like. Which is why Aquaman which I saw the other day did so well because it had unlike most comic book movies a decent middle with an idiana jonesie adventure and romance so the film felt like an adventure. 
I’m not saying it was good, I’m saying the bar has been lowered so far that this crap passes for good, it’s the best most sparkly tinfoil covered turd in the punchbowl. The main villain didn’t appear at the start and disappear through most of the movie but still get praised as the best villain ever just cos like in Black Panther. You follow both villains through the whole movie cutting back and forth between the heroes and villains in a way that felt satisfying and bolstered the movie.

So yeah I enjoyed it like a person enjoying the interior decoration of a sinking ship.

In a good mood today which is weird because I’m actually in shitloads of pain because I pulled a muscle in my back on a chest fly. I had a really nice dream about the only person in the world that really matters. For reasons I can’t disclose, mainly pure evil; I can’t see that person but the dream let me know that one day I would. I really need to be someone they can be proud to know exists. I just need something, a clear path to being a real person.

Fuck me, why is this ‘life’ thing so hard?

Anyway, I promised I would plan something today, my next book possibly or some other hair brained scheme perhaps.

Gonna try and get some feedback on the completed book and maybe make some changes to it, there’s a lot about it that still feels unfinished.

See you…

“So you’ve finally arrived” Bres smirked as he bit the head off a pear. “Would you sit? Your ward is readying himself, my men and I rode all night to be here, we’re very tired.” He said staring at her as he chewed. His champion Ogma at his side, face bandaged like a mummified corpse, shrouded in a grim countenance. He looked as stiff as a tailors dummy sitting completely erect in his armor. Dian Cecht sat on the end, silent as the grave with his head hanging low trying not to be seen.

 

“I-I-“ The druiddess stammered.

 

“Sit down” Bres said firmly but softly.

 

Birog sat awkwardly on an ornate oak chair with a floral pattern on the green seat cushion. She almost missed the chair as she couldn’t take her eyes off the man that had been chasing her doggedly. Unable to get anything close to comfortable as her mind reeled and her fingers tightened around the box.

 

“I shouldn’t want to spoil the surprise but I can’t imagine what’s inside that box will save you.” Bres sighed.

 

“He didn’t-?”

 

“No, he told us where you were going but I pressed no further about the contents of that box” Bres smirked wickedly “I do so like surprises.”

 

“But-“

 

“I won’t kill you in his presence out of respect, but mark my words, this doesn’t end well for you little druid”.

 

Ogma narrowed his eyes making a face as if it pained him to do so, looking at his king. His king who’s face was beginning to turn an odd shade of purple with red blotches surfacing. “Look at her, she’s beaten, she knows it, we have no need to kill her my lord” He said. “She can still be of use.” He added looking at her, as if it was a question.

 

“Who is it that tells the king of Inish Veil what he must do?” Bres said without looking at him.

 

“He must kill me, don’t you see, I know too much” Birog said looking down talking into the box clutched to her chest. Then casting an erstwhile glance at Ogma.

 

Bres said nothing but tensed his jaw and started to grind his teeth as his face got more colourful.

 

Just as Ogma was about to get curious the page came back with cold meats and wine.

 

“You’re just as handsome as I remember you, Bres the beautiful” an unseen woman said.

 

Bres looked around for the woman.

 

“We hope you haven’t forgotten us.” Another said.

 

“How could he do a thing like that?” A third added.

 

Bres turned his head and appeared a beautiful woman with blonde hair in a white dress. And then one behind him leaning over his shoulder in a black dress with dark hair and then on his lap was a woman in a red dress with red hair.

 

“How could I forget such enchanting enchantresses” Bres smirked.

 

“Oh you are a flirt”

 

“As always”

 

“But how rarely you pay us a visit”

 

Bres smiled “Kings seldom have free time for such things”.

 

“You came to see the old man not us” The girl in white pouted.

 

“That couldn’t be further from the truth, I came to see the lovely three Moriggu, if I were to check up on the old man it would be a matter of course, that’s all. How is he, may I ask?”

 

“Same as usual”

 

“Away with the spirits” They giggled.

 

“Who’s this?” The one in red said sneeringly pointing at Birog.

 

“A pilgrim I met along the road perchance, she’s come a long way to see him”

 

“She has? Whatever for?” The one in black wrinkled her nose.

 

“She has a gift for him” Bres smirked.

 

“A gift?” The one in white said excitedly, her eyes widening like a child’s.

 

“You can see him, if you promise you’ll visit us again soon” The one in red said.

 

Bres took her hand and kissed it “Anything for you Babd”.

 

The other two looked on with cloistered dismay and disdain.

 

In an instant they transfigured themselves into fireflies of their respective colour. They flitted through an opening in the main room of the anti-chamber.

 

Birog entered the main chamber behind Bres who pushed the doors open wide, followed up by Ogma who looked on stonily.

 

The main chamber in contrast to the rest of the fortress was the definition of opulence. Every wall covered in red and purple and white silk. The furnishings were made of the finest materials, gold and silver leaf traced every nook of the room.

 

It wasn’t just a main chamber or a bed chamber. It was an exquisite throne room with extravagant chandeliers. A banquet table sat in the centre piled high with the grandest smelling food one could imagine.

 

At the far end of the room a set of stairs carpeted in a deep red velvet, leading to the throne and on it sat the once and former king Nuada Airgetlám.

 

“I bid you welcome Bres and guests.” He said softly.

 

“Hail ‘king’ Nuada” Bres said with a mocking smirk.

Check out the rest of the final chapter of the first book in this hopefully epic saga here on inkitt. Gimme the prize

Starship Troopers tv show pilot scene 2

Hey there,

I would have had this finished already but I had day job stuff getting in the way as usual, gotta make that bread.

So this to me is one of the most important scenes in the film and one of the most important relationships in the book. Because in the film his teacher who is called Mr Radchek tries to teach him about what it means to be a soldier and a citizen and then later on he returns to active duty when war is declared.
But in the book the teacher and Raczek as he’s called in the book are two different characters entirely but Mr. Dubois, his teacher in the book still plays an active role, writing him letters and just having faith and pride in him a father might have when Rico lost his parents that didn’t approve of him joining the service.

I really liked what they did in the film because in the book he just stays on earth and presumably keeps teaching as this intergalactic war that threatens humanity is raging whereas in the movie he throws his armor back on and gets back in the fight. It adds a level of scale to the war the book does not convey. There is a missing sense of urgency in the book and that’s also what lends so much realism to it. It just seems like the day in the life of an average soldier instead of the ultimate conflict for humanity. It almost makes fighting giant bugs on pluto in mech suits seem like the most normal thing on earth and that’s what I love about it.

But at the same time there needs to be a sense of urgency and threat for it to function as a movie and not just a weird documentary. My goal essentially is to somehow combine those two things. Have the urgency but also keep in the mundanity for the sake of realism and immersion. Sure humanity is at stake but you’re just one man doing his job who wants to get home and play space xbox haha.

Perfect subway into talking about shitty games on xbox, I got gamepass because it was on sale and I’ve been messing about with shitty microsoft games. I mainly wanted it for Mutant year zero which was this fun little strategy game like xcom but where you play a mutant pig and duck person and it was really good. Then played some crackdown 3 which is just bleh, which is why people are pissed about it because it took ages to come out only to be another generic crackdown game.

Then I attempted to play shadow warrior 2 because I loved the first one, it was a classic fps with great action but then they decided to turn it into a shitty borderlands clone and get rid of the crafted levels and replace it with randomly generated free roam sections with hordes like a shitty mmo. Total garbage. 

Then I tried to play Gears of War 4 because I forgot why I stopped playing that franchise only to be reminded by this game after the first act. It’s because it’s the most boring action series ever. Just run from shooting gallery to chest high wall shooting gallery to fight boring enemy after boring enemy with guns that sound like nerf guns.

I can’t believe that series is getting a fifth entry. The gameplay is supposed to be the draw in these games because it sure as shit isn’t the story or characters but it gets tiresome within the first hour. I don’t have a problem with cover shooters as long as they have a gimmick. One of my favourite games of all time is a cover shooter. But in Dark Sector you also have a giant glaive that shoots out of your hand you can direct with your mind and throw it over cover and its basically a hybrid between resident evil 4 and gears that works so well. 

Gears of war is like the most bog standard shooter ever, no gimmicks, just run to cover, shoot over cover, move onto the next shooting gallery. Even games like Cod can be enjoyable just for the gameplay but this is just drek. I just couldn’t be fucking bothered to grind through it, the combat is just so rigid and unfun. The guns aren’t satisfying or varied enough, the characters and the world aren’t interesting. This is console generation apart from the original games and all that’s changed is the graphics. The game plays and feels exactly the same. I can’t believe this series still exists. This is the last microsoft console I buy, their exclusives when there are any just blow.

I’m playing the tomb raider game before last and it’s ok, but it’s basically budget uncharted. It has better more interesting combat and stealth than gears but it isn’t as exciting or interesting as the last uncharted game was. It amazes me that gears has gone on so long and they haven’t used a stealth system and at least attempted to switch up the formula and stay relevant. I guess they just couldn’t be bothered. So glad I didn’t actually pay full price for that crap. I remember enjoying the original games but I think that’s because they had splitscreen co-op and I played them with a friend so it was more fun.

Anyway yeah so I haven’t been reading as much of the shadow which has been really fucking boring but I’ve been lead to believe from a reliable source that the next book is the best one. I mean I’m not surprised these books are so boring apparently two were released every month and they’re not that short, two hundred pages average. It’s not a full length novel but still they were churning these things out so it’s sort of surprising they’re worth reading at all.

On the writing side of things I’m kinda struggling for what to do next, I don’t know if I should do a sequel to Diana or Cur. I could keep going with Diana, although I got a response from an agent saying it was fucking derivative, fuck me right. You could just say you’re not interested, don’t need to add insult to injury. I mean wtf isn’t that the point, if it’s similar to something people like and that was popular, oh ‘the market is saturated’ bitch what the fuck do you know about markets?

So yeah, bit salty over that one, just waiting for some inspiration to hit or someone to give me some advice, I dunno. I’m gonna put up the last chapter of Cur and get some feedback from inkitt and others and see what I should so next. 

I might do something completely different. I still need to look into what to do with this screenplay if I do anything with it. I want to do my like tween fantasy story but I guess that would be derivative too and I don’t really feel that inspired to write it. I need to think about it more. I’ll probably finish Loverman and hell if that podcaster like 3 ring I’ll do another part for him I guess, I dunno.

See you…

(I tried to post this yesterday and it didn’t work for some reason, I’m lying, I probably just got forgot haha.)

INT. Class room. Terra. Day

 

 

Mr. Dubois

 

 

RICO!

 

 

Rico awakes with a start as his teacher Mr. Dubois shouts at him.

 

 

 

 

 

  1. DUBOIS (

CONT’D

)

 

 

Although you’re not required to pass history and moral philosophy you are nevertheless required to stay awake.

 

 

The class including CARMEN and DIZZY and KARL laugh at him. He’s

embarassed

but his attention is suddenly drawn to a bright blue light in the sky. He tries to warn the others as the light get closer and closer but his voice is muted and the light is growing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

InT. ClASS ROOM. TERRA. DAY

 

 

RICO wakes up on his own accord and looks over at DIZZY who poked him and then at CARMEN who’s silently gigging at him.

 

 

  1. DUBOIS is still lecturing not having noticed RICO dozing during class.

 

 

 

 

 

DiZZY

 

 

My mother says violence doesn’t solve anything.

 

 

  1. DUBOIS

 

 

So?

 

 

Mr. DUBOIS (

CONT’D

)

 

 

I’m sure the city fathers of Hiroshima would be happy to hear that.

 

 

  1. DUBOIS (

CONT’D

)

 

 

Why doesn’t she let them know, you?

 

 

  1. DUBOIS prods CARMEN with his stump.

 

 

Carmen

 

 

There’d

be nobody to tell, Hiroshima was destroyed, everyone knows that.

 

 

  1. DUBOIS

 

 

Wouldn’t you say violence ‘solved’ them rather thoroughly?

 

 

Mr. DUBOIS (

CONT’D

)

 

 

The doctrine that violence doesn’t solve anything is historically untrue and immoral.

 

 

  1. DUBOIS (

CONT’D

)

 

 

Napoleon and Wellington could debate on the subject with

Hitler

as a referee. The audience made up of the dodo and the passenger pigeon.

 

 

Mr. DUBOIS (

CONT’D

)

 

 

Violence, naked force is the only thing that ‘solves’ anything.

 

 

  1. DUBOIS (

CONT’D

)

 

 

Anyone in doubt about this fact can be accused of wishful think at best.

 

 

  1. DUBOIS (

CONT’D

)

 

 

A people who forgets this fundamental truth have always paid for it with their freedoms and their lives.

 

 

Mr. DUBOIS (

CONT’D

)

 

 

Forget not the old ills of ‘liberal democracy’ a weak ideology no better than communism that thrust our society into division and chaos, ultimately tearing it apart.

 

 

Mr. DUBOIS (

CONT’D

)

 

 

It was the veterans who saved us and created a new world snatching us from the brink of extinction.

 

 

  1. DUBOIS prods RICO with his stump.

 

 

  1. DUBOIS (

CONT’D

)

 

 

You, what’s the moral difference between the soldier and the civilian?

 

 

RiCO

 

 

The difference…

 

 

RicO (

CONT’D

)

 

 

lies

in the field of civic virtue.

 

 

RICO (

CONT’D

)

 

 

A soldier accepts personal responsibility for the safety of the body politic of which he is a member.

 

 

RICO (

CONT’D

)

 

 

Defending it, if need be, with his life.

 

 

RICO (

CONT’D

)

 

 

The civilian does not.

 

 

Mr. DUBOIS

 

 

The exact words of the text.

 

 

  1. DUBOIS (

CONT’D

)

 

 

But do you understand them?

 

 

RiCO

 

 

Sir?

 

 

Mr. DUBOIS

 

 

Do you understand them or not son?

 

 

Rico

 

 

I… I don’t know sir.

 

 

The bell rings.

 

 

Mr. DUBOIS

 

 

Of course you don’t.

 

 

  1. DUBOIS returns to his desk.

 

 

Mr. DUBOIS (

CONT’D

)

 

 

And that is all, a final all.

 

 

Mr. DUBOIS (

CONT’D

)

 

 

I hope we all meet again under happier circumstances.

 

 

The class is dismissed.

 

 

Cur Chapter 17 ‘Morning Shadows’

Henlo there,
I have returned once more from the depth of hell to share my misery with you all bwahahaha!

Dramatic entrances over erm yeah more Cur stuff, not a big slashy chapter but there some big slashes coming fo’ sho. The slashiest slashes there ever been coming soon enough.

Updates updates.
Rejections trickling in for Diana as expected, erm one of them told me they didn’t understand the world in the first few pages. And I responded like ”well yeah you’re not supposed to it’s a fucking dream sequence, maybe if you actually read the whol chapter instead of scanning the first couple of pages you’d have got that!”.
Only to be greeted with one of those messages that tells you you just sent an email to a mailbox that no one reads. Imagine putting retarded criticism in an email that can’t be responded to haha. Like why bother?
I really don’t know with these people it seems like it’s total gate keeping bullshit and all the gate keepers are retards who only want something that specifically caters to them. I dunno, I think I might have to redo my query letter and take the identity of a muslim woman poc to actually get a chance of someone reading a chapter of my fucking book haha (I’m not going to do that).

I still have hope for it, all the hope in the world, what else is there? I really have nothing else but chasing this impossible dream until I get old and die alone.
I’d honestly have it no other way because I couldn’t bear to meet the woman who could put up with me haha. I’m doomed to be forever alone with maybe a few stints of being intensely miserable being with someone that hates me for a few months and part of me is totally fine with that.

Ok well that’s enough for today, I was gonna do some spamming on facebook today since I’d been staying out of trouble on there but nope. I got banned again for nothing, literally nothing, that’s not a meme, once you make it on facebook’s shit list they’ll just ban you for no reason. On multiple occasions I’ve been banned and usually if you actually did something it’ll show what you were banned for and you can request a review to appeal it. Because the algorithm doesn’t know what you’ve said and people just report you for whatever reason trying to get you banned so a real person will look at it and take the ban down.
But again I’ve been banned and it won’t show me what I was banned for because it’s nothing, I haven’t been spamming or saying any edgy shit recently. I’ve just been posting tame stuff for laughs mainly. So no only will it not show me what I was banned for because there’s nothing to show but also it didn’t give me the option to request a review, the case was closed as soon as I was banned so I have no way of getting it turned around.
Facebook just bans thought criminals whenever it feels like for whatever reason it likes, literally orwellian bullshit, I can’t stand facebook, I know I’m gonna delete my account eventually and migrate to twitter probably, although I know their free speech policies aren’t much better. But there’s no competition.
Anyway, enough ranting about that. I hope you enjoy the chapter and the conclusion of this part of this epic saga is soon to come.
See you…
 
Birog prodded the fire with a blackened birch branch and stared into it trying to think of no one and nothing. The night had fallen and the woods were alive with sounds of predators and prey and she didn’t feel like being either. It was misting with rain slightly and clouds were building overhead. She didn’t feel wet but it was seeping into the horse blanket she was using to keep warm.
 
The fire she made was strong enough but nomatter how close she got to it she still felt a chill. The darkness clung to the trees and surrounded her and she felt alone, truly alone.
 
She didn’t know why the Firbolg chose to come with her anymore than she knew why he chose to stay behind now. Surely she hadn’t fooled herself into thinking he was in love with her. Was there a chance that there was valor in him afterall? Did she bring it out in him? Was he the hero she needed all along, a hero in waiting, waiting for her to come along and give his death meaning, had he sacrificed himself for her?
 
She felt silly for thinking such thoughts, she wanted to laugh but the thought of laughter let cold and melancholia slip in. The more she thought about it, the colder she got. Nomatter how hard she clung to herself that chill would not out and the loneliness and fear would not abate
 
The night was calm and the steady metronome of light rain made her head bob in and out of sleep but something kept her awake, her thoughts wandering. Where was he now? What of the shapeshifter Tuan? he said he would watch over her but she’d seen hide nor hair of him, telling herself that he was in every owl hoot and wolf howl. She knew she was alone and although her mission was almost to an end and in the morning she would walk among gilded halls. Sleep in beds of the finest linen and eat of foods fit for a king and would be greeted as a hero, she could not sleep.
 
Just gazing endlessly into the fire, listening to the stillness of the night.
 
Then suddenly, a chime of thunder rumbling overhead. Then a horse’s nay cut over the steady beat of the night. At first she thought it a waking dream but then again, the thunder rolling overhead, the horse naying.
 
She shook herself from her dozing and as she became more conscious, the hairs on her arms stood and the blood in her veins froze.
 
A horse.
 
Can’t be. It can’t be him. Not here, not now. That black night is surely dead.
 
She stood shaking off the horse blanket and quickly stamped out the fire.
 
He’s found me.
 
She waited still in the dark, waiting for her eyes to adjust, holding herself, not breathing, just listening to the night and the horse, trying to follow it.
 
Slowly she could see the outlines of the trees by moonlight. She crouched to tip toe gingerly towards the sound of the horse naying between bouts of thunder.
 
As the sound got closer she could hear a stream. Then see the shimmering moonlight hitting the water and reflecting back against the treeline.
 
She followed along the stream staying shrouded by the night but with the stream as a glittering path to guide her.
 
Then the thunder stopped and the horse stopped naying. She stopped then, listening to her own breathing. Listening for the breath of another but hearing but a rustling in front of her and the clopping of hooves.
 
She halted her breathe once more and cautiously followed the noise further downstream and then by the light of the of the water she saw it’s dipped head.
 
Her heart became lighter as she saw it was just one of the horses from her cart that had gotten loose somehow.
 
She breathed a sigh of relief as she watched it drinking from the stream.
 
The druidess approached it and gently stroked it’s main as he it drank.
 
“You must have been startled by the thunder.” She said smiling. “How did you get free I wonder?”
 
The horse nayed in response and forced it’s head harder under her hand. “You are a friendly one, perhaps I should give you a name, how does “Ronal” sound?”
 
The horse nayed and continued enjoying the druidess’s fingers through his maine, pushing for her to scratch harder.
 
“Come on” She said as she lead him back to the camp. The weather had improved slightly, it was still fairly cold but the thunder and the misting rain had stopped. She wrapped Ronal in the horse blanket and patted him on the head “Maybe now we’ll both get some sleep” She sighed.
 
Liked this excerpt? Read the rest over on inkitt Morning shadows.

Diana in the dark Chapter 9 ‘Sugar lies’ (remurdered)

Ayyo wut up?

Ok well as usual it’s tuesday, the day after my favourite chest day so I am sitting here trying not to swallow my tongue, why do I do this to myself haha? I’m so rundown, I feel like I slept in a cement mixer haha.

Ok so what’s up, yeah recycling Diana again but you know I’m proud of this version so, I dunno. I read the only one star review of Green Sunday yesterday and laughed, some guy saying it was dumb, well yeah, that was sort of the point haha.

Talking about the stupid shit I write, I’ve been thinking of looking for like a serial magazine that might take 3 ring samurai for no money haha. All the glorious ‘exposure’ I can eat haha. You know just for fun, I like people reading my stuff even if it’s to laugh at it for free haha. But who knows it could get a cult fanbase, like I care haha. Anyway yeah I just stumbled on an ad on facebook for a podcast that’s like an audio serial so submitted to that so hopefully they think it’s funny and different and it could be heard by a few people.

Also looking into potential publishers for Cur which could hook me up with the right audience, I’m gonna be putting together a package at some point this week, I might start after I finish this blog actually.

Err, haven’t been reading the shadow a lot this week because it’s a really boring story I couldn’t give a shit about haha. I love the shadow, I just think there’s so much that is just fluff and I know if I read it all I can boil it down and pull out all the gold from this mess of tedium. I just need to stick with it.

On a positive note I got back into a series I sort took a step back from for a while, american horror story has been like a decent tv show I watched on occasion between like I dunno Dexter and that kind of stuff. It’s never really wowed me just been something I could watch when I ate or worked out.

But season six was pretty special, I thought it was gonna be like a period piece slog with some tedious plot line like hotel which was ok it was just bogged down in a lot of nonsense the other seasons also suffer from. I dunno I like it when it embraces what makes horror fun and doesn’t get bogged down in trying to tell a romance or something cheesy that just doesn’t fit.

But season six was like a cool reality show and I think it mostly worked, although the ending was a little flat but still cool. I was thinking that season seven couldn’t compete but how wrong I was. I laughed so hard I almost dropped a dumbbell on my head. It’s basically a whole season about Trump derangement syndrome.  It perfectly satirises the insanity around Trump in a way that in the first episode at least is really non-partisan and fun.

Evan Peters plays his best role yet as this crazy blue haired trump supporting cult leader I guess and he’s equal parts hilarious and scary. You can just tell he had fun with this one. Sarah Paulson plays a lesbian who made the mistake of voting for Jill Stein because she thought the Hillary nomination was in the bag and Trump being elected basically triggers the laundry list of phobias and mental problems she has and he has a kid with her wife and it doesn’t sound funny but it really is a great satire on the complete mania some people experienced just because Trump got elected.
I’m not sure what political leaning the creators of the show are but I assume liberal as hollywood and places like that usually bias left but what I found in the first episode is funny and unbiased maybe even leaning right a little, I thought I was gonna cringe at the portrayal of right wingers but not yet anyway. I just found it overall fun and funny and I’m looking forward to watching more tonight.

That’s all.

See you…

We were rounding the dune-like sandy hills, the grass was a desert khaki color, and we had to drive around the whole park to get to the entrance on Elinvar Drive.

Paul parked the Hummer up at the end of the street and I hopped out into the muggy mid-afternoon. He got out without saying a word and circled back around to open the trunk. “Here grab this.” Innuendos aside, He took out a small black case and handed it to me.

It was a little heavy, but I ate my Wheaties this morning. I was a little giddy, maybe it was the slight elevation. The air was a little thinner and smelled different, less like people and more like dirt.

Paul pulled out something long and thin, wrapped in a piece of chamois leather and set off up the trail at a medium paced stride. “You coming?” he yelled.

All those juices were flowing. Must’ve felt like he was straddling a camel in Baghdad with an M60 strapped to his back heading to Osama bin Laden’s pool party.

I kept pace as we hiked further and further away from the road, getting a lot quieter as we did, only my minds wanderings to keep me entertained.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked ‘Aunt’ Dharma.

“I don’t know, I just…it just seemed right.” There was something in her words that seemed practiced, as if she’d been waiting for this.

I was being shielded even now from something darker than even my imaginings, and it made my heart skip. What could it be? Dancing just outside my peripheral vision, gliding along the edge of a wine glass, ready to crack it and slip off.

“I wanted to give you a chance. A chance to be whole,” she continued.  She looked at me, her eyes welling with a cocktail of emotions I couldn’t begin to understand. She was looking into my eyes, knowing, and knowing I knew she knew.

Confirming there was nothing behind them. I was empty, and she’d known all along.

She’d hoped and prayed but her worst fear had come true. I was a monster, a shadow, a poor reflection of a human. No different from the ones we were running from.

Dharma burst into tears on the breakfast bar.

All I could do was stretch out a puppet-like hand and pat her head. “There, there.” I dropped my hand on her head like it was made of wood. The sound of an American bald eagle cawing overhead awoke me from my stuporous flashback, it was very patriotic. I couldn’t feel anything but my heart pounding and my legs chaffing, lugging the case around. There was a bit of wind coming off the coast and reaching the high-ish peaks.

The empty hilly landscape stretching out on all sides. I regretted the jean-shorts this time. The brittle dry grass slashed and scratched my legs as I trudged on.

The sun was slowly losing its grip on the sky, starting its shambolic descent into a watery grave once again. Only to rise from the dead the next day with a cock crow and a “Hey what’d I miss, no gruesome murders I hope” expression on its face.

It was warm, but the breeze and the coming night gave all the heady air needed to feel a slight buzz.

Maybe I was sharing a high.

I could feel the smile in the back of his head. Beaming like a Boy Scout heading to a magical Indian Pow Wow.

When it was quiet enough, secluded enough, far away from the road and civilization, we stopped and Paul set down the thing in the wrappings and unfolded it. “You can put the case down on that rock.” He stood the rifle up, looking it up and down.

It was a regular hunting rifle, probably one of his. Just a regular wooden hand cocked hunting rifle. I guessed he thought a tactical black semi-auto AR would’ve been too scary for me, and most likely illegal in this super liberal state.

Anything black and scary and pointy was usually banned in the utopian state of California.

I watched as he patted it fondly, cocking and shouldering it, looking down the iron sights. I set the case down on the rock and opened it. Inside were four pistols of varying caliber; no clue what they were, hi I’m a girl.

One was a revolver, I knew that much. There were two like that one out of The Matrix, and a little one that looked like the one James Bond used, but a little boxier.

“Pick one, and we’ll start.” He went over by another rock. About fifteen feet away from the spot, he put out the mat that’d previously wrapped the rifle. Now spread out like a picnic blanket.

And I forgot to make sandwiches. Oh well.

He set up a can of Diet Coke on a rock, I hastened to think where he’d found it, only fat girls drank diet coke.

I liked water, of the mineral variety, the mineral being steel from the faucet.

What about the fluoride in the water turning the ‘friggin frogs gay, Diana’?

I wasn’t that type of crazy. Sadly.

This is the fancy edited edition which will be made available at some point in the future but for now you can read the undedited raw version here.

Starships Troopers Tv show pilot Scene 1

Ok so this is as weird for me as it is for you, forgive the formatting issues, I’m using a script program and copy and pasting from it is like the word equivalent of the fly.

So it looks like ass but it gives you the general feel for it which is all that matters. Had some problems with it as I said, I started with an idea in my head and then rereading the book I liked his opening a lot more and I thought I could a lot with that that was way more subtle and would deliver more worldbuilding in the first five minutes than what I had originally sketched out.

But then pain in the ass of asses for some reason this damn program didn’t save the last five pages despite having an auto save function. So I spent yesterday reconstructing it from notes and memory, which is so disheartening, really makes you just wanna give up.

I’m almost back to where I was and if I keep pace, I should have it done within a month, maybe two.

So far it’s going really well, I think I’m blending the movie and the book in a really organic way. I’m really enjoying, I should be doing prose but this is just a fun little experiment I wanted to try, it’s not like I have anywhere in particular to send it, I’ll probably just sit on it. I’m really just killing time until all the rejections come rolling in for Diana haha. Then I can restrategize because I know that book has what it takes to hook an agent if the chick that wrote fifty shades can get an agent, that book can get an agent.

I just need to repackage it a little.

Busy tomorrow so I might do a poem but I saw this utterly beautiful movie last night called ‘Leave no trace’ where Ben Foster plays this military vet with ptsd who is living off the grid with his daughter and it was just the most touching story ever and it really spoke to me. Beautifully shot and acted, I want to do a review but it just felt so personal, there was so much that touched me personally in that film. It left me feeling so sad. 

But then of course I put on some american horror story season 6 and did a super heavy chest day and that made me feel better but it stays with me still. It was about this broken guy who couldn’t live in society dragging his daughter to live in the woods. And she’s pulled on one side by him and the other by being a normal girl who wants friends and to be around people and the ending is just so sad. Because they want to be together so badly but they just cant. I get the feels even thinking about it.

Definitely worth a watch.

It’s a slow movie, where nothing really happens but its one of those movies that holds your attention anyway.

It was based on a book too so that’s more inspiration I guess, not that I think I’m capable of writing something so moving.

Anyway now realising I have no image for this and I have to go make a folder for one brb haha.

Ok there we go.

See you…

 

FADE IN:

 

 

 

 

 

Inter title:

 

 

“Come on, you apes! You wanna live forever?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

EXT. Staging area. Day

 

 

MI troops are lined up in formation as an overlay is laid over the top as an

informerial

propaganda ad for the mobile infantry.

 

 

Soldier 1

 

 

I’m doing my part!

 

 

SolDIER 2

 

 

I’m doing my part!

 

 

A shino dog in full MI regalia barks at the screen and his barks are translated a subtitles.

 

 

MI Doge

 

 

I’m doing my part!

 

 

The MI troops all laugh jovially.

 

 

Voice over

 

 

They’re doing their part, are you doing yours? Join the mobile infantry today! Remember, service guarantees citizenship! Sign up today!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ExT. Skinny homeworld. Night

 

 

VOICE OVER

 

 

Skinny homeworld zeta k

 

 

VOICE OVER (CONT’D)

After years of aggression, the alien threat on zeta k has been pacified.

 

An MI troop violently herds a family of innocuous skinny aliens into an enclosure. When he notices he’s being filmed he smiles at the camera and gives a cheesy thumbs up

 

VOICE OVER (CONT’D)

 

All thanks to the guys and girls in the mobile infrantry, good work trooper!

 

VOICE OVER (CONT’D)

 

Would you like to know more?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ext. Outside the skymarshall’s office. Day

 

 

A group of protestors are picketing the skymarshall’s office with signs complaining about brutality and various causes. “Sky man bad!” Protesting the fascist nature of the government.

 

 

VOICE OVER

 

 

Protests broke out today outside the Sky Marshall’s office.

 

 

VoICE OVER (CONT’D)

 

Unhappy non-citizens whining about their sorry lot.

 

 

The military police open fire on the protestors.

 

 

VOICE OVER (CONT’D)

 

 

Nice try non-citizen!

 

 

VOICE OVER (

CONT’D

)

 

 

Democracy was last century, only citizens can vote, become a citizen today and join the mobile infantry.

 

 

VOICE OVER (

CONT’D

)

 

 

Do your part for a better tomorrow! Service guarantees citizenship!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

INT. ROGER YOUNG SPACE SHIP. Drop room

 

 

All cap troopers are strapped in ready to drop.

DIZ

and JENKINS watch RICO as he sits placidly shaking in his pod.

 

 

 

 

 

JENKINS

 

 

All the injections and hypnotic suggestion in the world and your boy is still shaking like a leaf.

 

 

DIZZY

 

 

That’s Johnny Rico you’re talking about.

 

 

JENKINS

 

 

Well Johnny Rico looks like he’s about to

shit

his pants

haha

.

 

 

DIZZY

 

 

Johnny isn’t afraid of nothing.

 

 

JENKINS

 

 

Then why’s he shaking like a virgin on prom night?

 

 

DIZZY

 

 

It’s not fear… it’s like… have you been to a race back on Terra? You get close enough you can see the trembling of a race horse about to leave the starting gate… Johnny

aint afraid of nothing.

 

 

The platoon leader JELLY walks up and down the platoon for an inspection of their gear. He stops at JENKINS and presses his vitals button on his belt.

 

 

JELLY

 

 

Fall out!

 

 

JENKINS

 

 

But

sarge

it’s just a cold! Doc said…

 

 

JELLY

 

 

Doc

aint

making your drop! Fall out!

 

 

JENKINS is forced to leave the pod bay looking saddened and angry.

 

 

JELLY looks over the remaining squad

 

 

JeLLY (

CONT’D

)

 

 

What a gang of apes!

 

 

JELLY (

CONT’D

)

 

 

Remember! We can spare you but not that fancy

shit

you’re carrying. No heroes in this outfit, you got a job you do it you show up for retrieval on the bounce get me?

 

 

JELLY (

CONT’D

)

 

 

Your’re

 

sposed

to know the plan but some of you

aint

got minds to hypnotize. This is just a raid, not a battle, a demonstration of force, we want them to know we could destroy their whole

goddamn

planet but we didn’t.

 

 

JELLY (

CONT’D

)

 

 

Take no prisoners but kill only when you have to and don’t come back with any unloaded bombs. Command wants the whole are we hit flattened.

 

 

JELLY (

CONT’D

)

 

 

The lieutenant told me before he bought it that he’d have his eye on you.

 

 

Rasczak’s

roughnecks have got a reputation to uphold!

 

 

JELLY (

CONT’D

)

 

 

Five minutes padre.

 

 

JELLY looks over at the squad chaplain who is ready for the drop like an ordinary mi, some men fall out to kneel in front of MIGLIACCIO.

 

 

MIGLIACCIO

 

 

JOHNNY RICO!

 

 

RICO

 

 

YEAH?

 

 

MIGLIACCIO

 

 

Anything you wanna say to god in case you buy the farm?

 

 

RICO

 

 

Tell him I’ll see him out there.

 

 

JeLLY

 

 

Tenn

… Shut!

 

 

JELLY (

CONT’D

)

 

 

Platoon!

 

 

MIGLIACCIO

 

 

Section!

 

 

JOHNSON

 

 

Section!

 

 

JELLY

 

 

By sections – port and starboard – prepare for drop.

 

 

JELLY (

CONT’D

)

 

 

Section! Man your capsules! Move!

 

 

The cap troopers are slowly enclosed in their drop capsules and now voices can be heard through the radios in their headsets as they prepare to drop.

 

 

JELLY (

CONT’D

)

 

 

Bridge!

Rasczaks

roughnecks… ready for drop!

 

 

Captain

deladrier

 

 

Seventeen seconds Lieutenant!

 

 

CAPTAIN

deladrier

(

CONT’D

)

 

 

Good luck, boys!

 

 

CAPTAIN

deladrier

(

CONT’D

)

 

 

Brace yourselves five seconds!

 

 

The capsule troops wait in silence and darkness until launch, tightly wrapped in their pods

 

 

Then suddenly they’re violently ejected into space as the corvette class warship the Roger Young fires them onto the planet they’re

orbitting

like an artillery gun.

 

 

But there’s a problem with Rico’s pod, a misfire, a decoy pod collides with his pod and he’s knocked off course.

 

 

DiZZY

 

 

RICO!

Enjoy the silence

I can’t remember…

There’s nothing left for me here.

The face of the sun.

I’ll never hold you…

You’ll never hear my voice now.

Like I did that day.

I’ll always love you…

I wish it was different.

Where ever I go.

Cur Chapter 16 ‘The big wheel’

Yeah I didn’t get a poem in last night because I didn’t really feel up to it, I skipped my workout and felt the big sad coming on and you’d think that would be the perfect time to write poetry but it just slipped my mind and I spent the time just staring at facebook like a zombie.

So yeah finally got some more Cur out and I sort of hate it honestly. I dunno it just seems so action focused and kind of messy and self indulgent, I like it, it was fun to write but I’m not sure about it and this chapter in particular I think fails to really get across what this is supposed to be about and I hope reading some more Conan will help me.

Because I was reading that and honestly I was blown away, it’s tone, the writing, the story, it’s everything I wanted for this and more. I saw so much in it, like where the influences for Berserk and others must have come from. It’s just so rich and interesting and fucking savage. 

It’s one thing that I was thinking about with the Shadow, how some of it is so boring and sanitised and Conan just isn’t. It’s raw and cool and brutal without being over indulgent or gratuitous. It isn’t gross or vulgar like modern interpretations of this kind of stuff. It’s focused in the right way.

It’s fantasy but it feels so tense and real and grounded. I just started reading it and I couldn’t put this story down and I realised I had to stop because I need to save this for when I’m writing Cur 2.

Which is on the books, right after this screenplay and then Diana 2 and then more clown shit haha.

So awhile yet. Probably towards the end of the year.

That’s all, don’t want to go over my boredness and unwillingness to read more shadow pulps, like they’re ok I just feel no drive to read them and if I want to dream about making it a tv show I need to extract and refine the elements that work.

See you…

“Ask him what he wants” Bres instructed one of his foot men.

 

The footman nodded and clasping his helmet to his head ran in shouting range of the strange man who exited the woods.

 

“MY LORD KING BRES OF OF INISH VEIL WISHES TO KNOW WHAT IT IS YOU WANT!” The footman shouted across the field, his voice straining against the wind blowing the grass and reeds.

 

“The blood of kings” Cur said.

 

“WHAT??” The footman balked.

 

Cur lifted his hand and squeezed his fist bulging all the veins in his muscular arm. “THE BLOOD OF KINGS RUNS THROUGH MY VEINS!” He bellowed and tossed his cloak aside and stood shirtless in the cool afternoon, the smell of dying fires on the wind. “WHAT BLOOD RUNS THROUGH YOUR VEINS, BRES?”

 

Bres began to laugh almost out of a nervous response of disbelief, but he laughed alone. His men stood frozen looking at eachother as each in turn felt as if their graves were being trampled, seeing a ghost in the flesh. His body huge and monstrous in proportion, twisted by pain and suffering they could not hope to comprehend. They could barely look away for the unnameable horror it filled them with.

 

The knot in Bres’s stomach that wasn’t there this morning tightened and he sneered at his men. Looking about themselves like frightened little babes for a wet nurses tit.

 

“I DON’T KNOW YOU!” Bres shouted from atop his mare.

 

“I know you” Cur said.

 

He leaned forward, resting his hands on his horse’s mane “STEP ASIDE PEASANT!”

 

Cur began to laugh, a terrible haunting laugh from a flat gaunt face. As if a skeleton’s smiling jaw fell open and a horrifying mirthless pitiless noise came rattling out.

 

“I’ve had enough of this” Bres waved his hand at a band of his men on the edge of the procession. The five of them paused for a moment and then nodded before rattling into something of a formation. The sounds of their armor clanking like nervous teeth.

 

Cur watched them and they watched his chest rise and fall steadily. His vicious body looking like a piece of petrified wood, hard and gnarled and scarred.

 

But these weren’t peasants or bandits, these were trained fighting men of the Tuatha de’. They swallowed their fears and thoughts of his skin being as tough as bark, notions of whether or not a sword would even penetrate. Falling back into routine and order, their training carrying them forward without thought or fear. Just muscle memory pulling them forward as if on strings.

 

The elven soldiers spread out a long a wide arch in between Cur and the Bres, all carrying long pikes and short swords.

 

The one on the farthest of Cur missing arm’s side would attack first, they always did. Seeking a weakness and finding only death.

 

It was as so; the one soldier farthest on his stump side rushed forward with a quick light rhythmic tapping of his feet against the grass. His sword held low for an arching upwards strike from groin to neck. He rushed forward and made a loud noise in his throat expecting his target to baulk at being caught off guard stepping back into the arc of the strike.

 

With an unmeasured viciousness, Cur turned into the strikes arch. He chopped horizontally across the soldier’s collar bone. The blunt chopper he used could no more cut and certainly not through mail. But the force and severity in which he wielded it shattered the soldiers collarbone. Causing him to collapse to the ground almost instantly. Crumpling under the weight of the strike. A few more successive chops on the ground pulverised his head and helmet in a blink of an eye. His white elf blood caking the grass,

 

In the same breath the next soldier came in succession from the otherside. This one learnt from the first and did not try to force the Firbolg back. He very quickly ran with his pike aimed at the small of the Barbarians back.

 

Cur span around catching the neck of the spear with the crook of his blade, letting the point pass him by. The soldier froze at the sight of such speed from someone almost twice his size. Allowing Cur all the time in the world to snap the spear with his knee and elbow. He struck the soldier with one quick dull angled downward slash from sternum to gut. Moreover ripping his mail but for cutting it. It made a ghastly noise, metal straining and ribs scraping and then a splosh of hot entrails bursting onto the ground.

 

The third was on him in the same rhythm. None of them stopping or fighting one at time. Just one attack flowing into the next like a move in a dance or successive strikes from the same blade, wearing him down. His blade getting heavier and his lungs burning with each strike.

 

The third was much quicker and feinted his first strike with his light short sword aiming to come low. Then at the last second changing direction and slashing Cur across his hand causing him to drop his blade in the long grass. But failing to follow up his strike with a successive blow. The Firbolg obliged by impaling him on the broken end of the lance that had fallen at his feet.

 

The broken lance end was frayed and only sharp enough to splinter through his mail hauberk. The weight of his armor did the rest as Cur erected him on the long broken pike and let him slide down it using his body as a counter weight. His entrails twisting around the pike coming out the other end and splintering more.

 

The fourth soldier and the commander attacked perfectly in unison.

 

The Firbolg leapt for his blade but was stopped by an arrow at his feet. The captain was much quicker and unleashed a torrent of strikes unending and savage. The Firbolg with his quickness was only cutting his losses as each strike made contact but had no purchase but to draw a small amount of blood.

 

His strikes were quick but there was a pattern. They were not random nor unpredictable but a practised combination of slashes and thrusts kept almost in time to the beat of a drum. He need only slip inside that rhythm and make it his own but for the sound of another arrow knocked behind his ear.

 

Next there was a thrust. The Firbolg twisted his huge body with the thrust and took the captain by the wrist and headbutted him hard across the bridge of the nose. He drove the tip of his sword into the ground and snapped off the blade with his foot.

 

Moving the dazed captain like a puppet now. He forced the broken sword and hilt still in his hand up under his chin and the jagged blade through the top of his skull.

 

Seeing the captain was dead the archer let loose without fear of injuring his comrade. Cur caught the tip in his open hand, the arrow piercing him right through his palm.

 

He closed his fist to snap the shaft and with his teeth tore out the arrow head.

 

Cur croaked a wicked vindictive smile crossing his bone white face. “Now you die”

 

“WAIT!”

This is just a little teaser of the full chapter. Read the rest of the chapter over on inkitt by following this link. The big wheel

 

 

Diana in the Dark Chapter 8 ‘Love in high places’ (remurdered)

I know, I know, I’m milking this but I haven’t been writing recently and I’m growing lazy, just been messing around with this screenplay I’m writing.

It literally took me all weekend just to get the screenplay writing program to work, I’m that boomer with the tech stuff and then after that when I actually got started and reading the book it’s based on for inspiration. I decided I liked the books opening better than mine and then changed the whole thing haha.

It’s not totally the same obviously. I didn’t think it would work as an opener for the lack of action but I really like the visuals and how it sets up the character. The structure will be the same because the book is a similar format to the movie in that it starts later on when he’s already in a battle and then cuts back to his past before he signed up. But in the book it’s not just an intro cut away it’s this massive drawn out battle sequence which is cool and but I really think the movie handled it better in regards to letting us get a grip of our characters before throwing them in the fucking meat grinder haha.

I mean in this intro in the books Rasczak who leads the roughnecks is already dead and they’re not even fighting the bugs yet so it just gets way ahead of itself really.

The movie handled it a lot better in many ways but I still love the book, it’s just a little dry and the movie adds some much needed ‘wetness’ haha. So I’m really trying to merge them in my adaptation.

So far of what little I’ve written it’s been a fun experience, I tried to write some of that Lovecraft story while I was struggling with the screenplay software but got nowhere with it. I’ll probably finish it off soon but I just can’t bring myself to start on Diana 2 until I get feedback from agents for Diana 1. That being in tons of rejections most likely haha. But I will never quit because I have no fucking life, the person who has no life always wins haha.

Mainly just been reading the shadow (which is hit or miss really) and trying to find cheap videogames to stop me going insane or thinking about anything at all because that brings on bad times. The shadow is mostly boring honestly, it’s fun in parts but it’s weighed down by a lot of boring shit. I really liked the second one but the first and the third kinda just passed over my eyes.

Honestly though the character of the shadow is just so intriguing I think it could carry a really cool tv show if the right person (i.e me) were hired to cut down the fat and deliver a really punchy and slick show. It would be like a shitty marvel superhero show except with an actual story and actual mysteries and not just an excuse to indoctrinate children with political ideologies no one asked for. And also awesome action that would be unlike anything seen before, that would really set it apart.

The shadow really is a totally different kind of superhero, he really just keeps you guessing and I really like that, I feel like I as the reader know about as much about the shadow as his enemies do and he constantly surprises you with how inhuman and human he is at the same time. Like for a long time you can convince yourself that he’s this infallible supernatural being and then something happens and you realise he’s not. It’s really interesting. Anyway, I’ll try and have some Cur for thursday, maybe a poem for tomorrow but I’ve upped my weights, lifting heavier than ever, sleeping longer, eating more, I feel like a fucking cancer patient on chemo right now haha (i.e not very productive), so we’ll see.

See you…

I did as I was told. What else could I do?

I didn’t seem to remember a montage of ninja training in my backstory, no secret swat teams backing me up, rappelling down the roof as we speak.

My one and only knight in shining armor was probably on the other side of town with a hangover.

There I was, making little jokes to myself when my head was probably going to be decorating my own mantle in a matter of minutes.

Goodbye cruel world, we were going to have so much fun together.

I crept gingerly into the living room with the air of someone whose hand was permanently glued into the cookie jar; the proverbial curious cat, about to meet a sticky end.

It was dark, because of course it was, how else to set a mood? I couldn’t see a thing, completely pitch. A wave came over me, a sibilant ring from the demoniac back seat driver. A cold feeling at the back of my neck I assumed wasn’t the kiss of a Chanel No. 5 lipstick, but the barrel of a gun.

A hushed voice with a slight Latin twang told me to come closer.

As my eyes adjusted, I saw my aunt. Silent and solemn, on her knees in front of the couch in our living room. Her head hung like she was Marie Antoinette, awaiting the executioner’s axe with a cloistered dignity, she was about to let her captures eat cake.

I hoped they’d choke on it.

‘They’?

Then it struck me, the gun at my neck was still there, and there was another, a knife in the murk, a knife at my aunt’s neck.

There were two of them, two killers.

That made it a lot easier to lug all those parts around.

“What now, cuz?” The gun at my neck croaked with a boyish whisper.

“We do them here, no witnesses, the older bitch is yours, I’m gonna take my time with this one.” the voice I recognized said.

Hi, Antoine, great party last night.

He dropped my aunt, the knife coming away from her neck, and something deep inside told me that was good.

She was still and stoic, taking on the nature of a good martyr, no tears; just a distant and tacit acceptance; a cold detachment to the earthly plane.

The gun at my neck came around my side, and Ruiz got close enough so I could smell his breathe. “I bet you thought that was pretty funny, me all tied up like that, naked. I bet it made you feel really powerful.” He spat in the dark but I could see the odd white tooth and feel the knife twist under my chin.

I wasn’t afraid, there was something else; a shiver of cool excitement rising up from the darkness. The blackness gently shifted, building silently beneath the waves trying to tell me… What? ‘I told you so’?

“How do you feel now, huh?” he taunted.

“I—”

I was rudely interrupted by a crash of glass.

The room almost turned red with their fear, their shock.

Their perfect bubble burst by some idle cat burglar, or maybe my neighbor, Gary got carried away showing someone his backswing.

“Go check it out,” Ruiz whispered.

“Why me?” the younger one croaked behind me. My eyes were getting used to the dark but all I could see was the ceiling fan spinning.

“Because I said so,” Ruiz hissed. He turned his head to spit on our carpet.

Yuck.

“Fuck me, man,” The younger would-be killer said, as he tiptoed out of the room.

Ruiz got close again, his breathing rising and falling on my face. “I bet you’re wondering how I found you. It wasn’t the phone…”He stopped, panting, as if he wanted me to ask.

Wanted me to play some guessing game, I just looked at Aunt Dharma. There was something strange about her, something unsettling.

She said nothing, looked at nothing, like she’d expected this, like she was already dead. Like she’d been waiting for this the whole time.

“My cousin, Emilio, he goes to your school, ain’t that a trip? I described you, and he knew right away who you were, I think he must have some kind of crush on you.” He laughed. “Maybe I should let him drill you when he comes back, maybe we’ll take turns before we mount your head like you and your freak boyfriend did to my boys.”

School. It hadn’t even crossed my mind. All the faces in the crowd, blending together. So hard to pick one out, one looking at me, seeing me, waiting, watching.

That was the last place I should’ve let my guard down but I had. Emilio had probably sat behind me for years, and we wouldn’t have exchanged a qué pasa? I guess my Spanish was getting better.

There was no silent alarm from the dark watcher, no ring on the black bat phone? Surprise washed over me. A distant warbling chuckle faded in and out. An unintelligible whisper; a game of hide and seek.

Oh you were playing possum. I’m being punished, for what?

What did I do? Dreadfully Dim Diana didn’t do anything wrong.

That was exactly the point.

I was being punished for being a goodie two shoes.

What now?

“I know you didn’t do all that alone, little girl like you. You had help.” He was panting even heavier, looking around, the shadows creeping along the walls, soaking into his flesh, getting closer. He put the knife against my throat. “Who you working for, huh? The Diaz brothers? They closing in on my turf? Tell, and I’ll only cut off an ear, and leave your pretty face alone, how ‘bout that?”

Another crash came from the kitchen, then a muffled cry and a deeply disconcerting thud.

“Hey, Emilio, hurry your ass up!” Ruiz whispered harshly into the empty hallway.

“Maybe he tripped, it’s pretty dark.”

“Shut up!”

“You should go check on it, maybe he grazed his knee.”

“I said, shut up!” He hit me with the base of the knife, and the room shook, a pulse of pain radiating down through my neck and shoulders.

My knees buckled, and nausea smacked into me. My vision faded in and out, and I saw something. I could see right through him, hear the animal roar.

The shrill cry of whatever it was inside him; it was like me, but not like me. Our inner demons sent vicious feral war cries out in answer.

Two shadows stretched and crossed, but then another, deeper darkness swallowed them both. Eclipsed them, blotted them out, filled the room with a deep impenetrably black smoke thicker than ink and tar.

My knees wobbled, and he felt it, too.

“Emilio, what took you so long man?”

The boy stood in the door way, doing the strong silent type thing as the room quaked around me.

There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.

The eye of the hurricane tossed my little world up into the stars as I tried to hold on for dear life.

I fell, pulling at Ruiz, trying to stop the room from spinning, just keep still.

Could he feel it?

“Talk to me man— Get offa me, crazy bitch!” He threw me to the ground.

I spread my fingers out on the carpet, praying for this feeling to stop, the pressure inside building.

The cry of the thing inside grew louder and louder, telling me to watch.

“What the fuck, say something, you’re freakin’ me out, man!” Ruiz commanded his cousin. He strode to the door…then he felt it; the pressure, the animal fear, the dagger intent, the murder dripping from the walls, but it was too late.

I heard rustling of dark wings unfurling, stretching across the walls, casting a shadow blacker than pitch.

I can see it in the corner of my eye, but moreover I felt it, like I had sonar, echo location. I could see the whole room like it was a watercolor, every pixel laid out in front of me in stark detail.

The blackness like a piece of pin art, it was solid, I could touch it.

I crawled, and I spotted the knife.

The figure at the door moved rhythmically, like he was under water, but couldn’t seem to get out of the way.

Ruiz was frozen, the weapon in his hand at the end of a long tunnel. His movements slowed down as if I was seeing it frame by frame in a slideshow.

He lifted the knife, not knowing exactly where he wanted to put it, or if there was even a place for it.

The shadows surrounded the man at the door, covering his face, bound to him like an impenetrable armor.

I wanted to cover my eyes and ears, if I could, if I thought it would keep the screaming out.

The shadowy fires lapped at me, the blinding black light.

The man at the door cut through the room. His movements were methodic and powerful, uncaring, unfeeling, unwavering.

The killer passed through Ruiz like he was made of spider webs, like he was a memory of a far gone conclusion. He cut him once across the neck with an effortless flourish, an afterthought someone else’s mess cleaned up, my mess.

Ruiz’s head dropped to the floor and rolled toward me. There was nothing in his eyes. A voided emptiness, a perfect mirror of my own.

The part of me deep down, was rising, screaming and laughing. I couldn’t tell if this was the end or the beginning. A triumphant cavalry cry, or the last gasp of a dying lizard about to have its head crushed under a desert rock.

The crushing pressure, I couldn’t take it anymore, the blackness folding over me, getting heavier and heavier. I decided to let go, a giddiness and a drowsiness came over me. I couldn’t keep my eyes open. The rattling thing inside told me it was okay—I could sleep.

“You see it now?” A muffled scratching noise warbled too close to my ear.

There was a grating sensation at my neck, then nothing but sweet black nothingness.

Falling.

To read the rest of this you’re gonna have to wait for it to come out sometime next year hopefully, if not you can find it on inkitt in a raw format.

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