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Kur part 2 Chapter 9 ‘Ghost boy’

Henlo, me again, still not dead haha.

Feeling a lot better actually, was in a dark place for a bit but I decided to see it as a wake up call and I was gonna change my whole life. But then a global pandemic hits and every country I want to go to is locked down and I can’t leave my house.

So yeah that’s on hold but I still feel ok, despite possible looming death haha. I feel hopeful that as long as I can survive this bullshit I’ll come out on the other end healthier and happier. I feel fit, I look good and I’m ready to fuck life up, after all the toilet paper comes back haha.

So yeah, some light fantasy reading to hopefully get you through these trying times, best of luck.

–

Tuan was frozen for a moment and then the voice became all too familiar to him and he turned his head slightly to see.

“Birog?” He smirked. “You wouldn’t kill me”.

“I have killed three hundred this night and maybe ten thousand more when the prophecy is fulfilled, what’s one more death?” The seer said coldly.

“You and your prophecies” He laughed “There’s a new one every week.”

The seer smiled “See for yourself.” She said as she pushed Tuan through the door.

Inside the bed chamber there was little light but Tuan’s eyes quickly adjusted, a beam of moonlight cast across tussled bed linens. Only the vaguest of shapes took form

“So you’ve come to rescue me”. A mocking voice said from the darkness, followed by a mocking laughter as feral eyes stared at the shapeshifter from the corner of the room.

Cur rose from a chair at the side of the bed clad in only a loin cloth. Pitilessly he tore the elegant silken linens from the grand bed. Revealing underneath a slight and strangely beautiful girl with only one giant eye where there should be two. The girl looked roughly manhandled but otherwise alive.

The barbarian tore the fine sheets and wrapped them around himself to form a crude tunic.

The barbarians keen eyes saw the hooded girl follow Tuan out of the darkness of the doorway. His wicked grin growing larger and toothier. He laughed again, his laugh punctuating the sounds of the waves down below and the silence like a crack of thunder. His laughter was like an attack all of its own.

The girl almost winced at the sound of it and tried to hide her face from his scrutiny. She looked down at the girl on the bed with pity and shame “The prophecy has begun, she is with child.”

“What is this nonsense?” Tuan gasped.

“She will give birth to the one that will slay Balor and free this land of the Femorians for good.” Birog spoke softly and from rote as if reading in a trance. “It’s why I brought you here.” She steadied herself letting the knife fall down by her side. “The child of three bloods will be the one to save this land and stop the stone of destiny falling into his grasp.”

“Him who? What are you talking about girl?”

“Elatha, the first born son, high king of the Fomorians. If he takes the stone, if Danu’s power over it weakens and the god of chaos has it under her wing, the world will fall into a blackness it will never wake from. I have seen it.”

Cur snorted. “I care not for this world.” He croaked.

Birog opened her cloak and revealed a strangely shaped object rapped in a lambskin. She carefully unraveled it, the moonlight dancing on the silver arm balanced in her hand. She tossed it as gently as she could at the Firbolg who caught it effortlessly in his one good hand. “It is your world too, Firbolg.”

Cur grinned as if he stared at the back of his enemy while they were taking a piss as he reattached the arm to his burnt misshapen stump. The pain he had quickly forgotten rushing back to him, the arm burned with foul magic. The castle was but a dull glow of the rot but the arm was like a lightning rod for it. And it sent a searing pain through his scars and there was a part of him that even missed it. The pain reminded him that he could feel, it reminded him of his hate.

“Now you die” He cackled.

“The child will surely die without me.”

“I care not for my bastard” He laughed.

“Then what of your own life?”

Suddenly as if through some magic there were noises outside of the door, heavy footfalls and shouting and gibbering in a strange tongue.

Birog smiled and sighed “Our time is short Firbolg, would you waste it on killing me when I am your only means of escape from this place?”

Cur laughed wickedly as he approached. “I will kill you quickly woman.” He croaked raising his sinister silver hand to her throat.

There was a thud and cracking at the door. The Firbolg turned his head and in an instant the seer seemed to dissolve into the crystalline brick of the castle wall.

The Barbarian lunged for her apparition but clutched only air as the witch vanished from sight.

“They’re coming through, prepare yourself!” Tuan shouted.

Cur chuckled at the fear in his voice.

The attackers at the door were little more than beasts in the crudest shape of men. Foul slithery things with misshapen and uneven bodies, some with bulbous blubbering lips and glassy bulging eyes.

They threw their flaccid foul bulk against the door. In an instant it exploded and splintered out and a silver streak reached out and flew like an arrow across a moonless sky.

The barbarian was vicious and brutal beyond measure without a weapon even more so. He was fast and wicked and spared no mercy in savagery. He took the first one so fast it could barely gargle in response it’s doom. The Firbolg took the creature by it’s jaws and tore it almost completely in half as if it were a boneless fish. It’s hot entrails spilled out on onto the crystalline staircase, steaming with its viscious bile. The sound it made was enough to stop any mortal advance.

The other creatures stood frozen not understanding the desolation that leered down at them from the doorway,

Cur could smell their fear, he could hear it in their silence. Taste it in their hesitation, they were but mortal afterall, they feared him and he delighted in it. A wicked grin stretching across his scarred face.

A sword swung by webbed vaguely humanoid hands stuck out of the gloomy darkness and was caught in a silver hand. The barbarian snarled and snapped the crude sword in half. In one fluid motion embedding the uneven shard into a glistening yellow eye that spewed a black vile puss as the creature shrieked in agony.

Cur ripped the sword from the creatures gibbous wretched clawed fingers. With a slow dull pawing he wrenched the crooked snapped blade ripping the creature open from groin to sternum. Without stopping his attack he threw the barely living misshapen thing. Writhing and bloody with a clear blood onto the wide squamous eyes of the onlookers in the darkness.

Without fear or hesitation he threw himself upon them. Spears and teeth and claw pierced his body but naught stopped him. He overcame them like a grave digger gouging through loose earth and muck in his way. Hacking and chopping with a maddening indifference.

The remaining few unbrutalized fled. They ran into the dining hall that was now a mausoleum to the three hundred maidens that watched over the princess. But they didn’t get very far.

Without warning they stopped in their tracks as if they were caught in a net, frozen not from fear but an unseen hand gripping them. Their bodies crumpling and shrinking due to some invisible crushing force. It seemed almost like they were rotting right before the Barbarians eyes. They popped with some exuberant force. Their putrid entrails slapping against the cold walls of the dining hall and it seemed almost turning to dust as they fell.

“You’re not allowed in here” A sickly slight voice said.

The barbarian scanned the room looking for the source of the voice. He smirked broadly as he saw the child standing in the doorway, the child that called himself Balor.

–

Read the rest on inkitt for free. https://www.inkitt.com/stories/action/300249/chapters/9

0

3 ring samurai part 3 chapter 5 ‘Pretty girl’

Yo bonjourno,
In a lot better mood recently because I have plans now, a new job in the works which I haven’t applied for but I got a guy on the inside so I’m sure to get it, although I’m not 100% sure I actually want it haha. It could be hell or it could be great, either way it’s gonna rob me of about six months of my life and if I decide to go back that’s my own decision, I’m obviously hoping I’ll love it and want to do it for a few years, I don’t see it as a lifelong thing because that would doom me to an eternity without any sort of family whatsoever and that would probably sound perfect to a lot of people but not me.
Specifically because I need this job to raise enough money to see the most important person to me on this earth. I’m hoping I can use the money to eventually buy a place where she lives and see where things go from there, but that’s probably a long way off. But it’s something and it’s more than I had yesterday. It’s gonna be hard work but I hope I can find purpose in it and look past it at my goals when it gets tough. 
I know I need to do this or something anything or I’ll lose my mind, the worse thing I can do is what I’ve already been doing which is nothing. It goes without saying it’s probably an end to blogging and writing for some time but this isn’t exactly going well anyway and leaving no audience behind isn’t that hard and shouldn’t be that hard to find again. 
I want to talk to her and tell her my plans but I’m afraid that I might chicken out and just slip back into despair, I’m afraid most of all of myself and my ability to just bottle it. 
I was thinking about when I was working abroad in france and how I totally checked out of that. But that was totally different to this, that was in the gaming industry which if you’ve worked in that industry you’ll know how full of shit it is. Plus I’ll actually be getting paid and everyone will speak english, probably. I basically had to get another job I had no time or the language skills to do or punch out and I chose to punch out because I couldn’t afford to stay and the job was total garbage for no money. 
It was an internship but I was supposed to have funding for it but it didn’t come through so I was working infinity hours at a job that sucked only to be bleeding money everyday just to survive. This going to be different and really exciting. I hope it works out.
As for content, I have it, sorta, yeah I do, pretty much these next few chapters are one elongated fight scene with mime ninjas, I know right, what other slice of the internet would you get epic battles between clown samurais and mime ninjas? Just what everyone in this age of infinite cape shit get excited for next cape shit needed.
Haven’t really been doing much else except writing and trying to like the shadow, I really really want to like the shadow but I read like a page and I can’t keep my eyes open. Doesn’t help that I read at night and I’ve been lifting really heavy recently so sleep falls on me like a tonne of bricks right now. But I .know when I’m reading something good when I can’t wait to read it and I want to stay up all night reading it.
Which is how I felt with the first conan story before I started reading the rest and got really bored with them. Still I wanna start reading the solomon kane stories next, also Elric because that’s apparently what the witcher is ripped off from and it can’t be much worse than that garbage.
Anyway, got shit to do, so see you…
–
Within a soundless second knives were hurled wildly in all directions. Ghostly white hands throwing them out and sometimes not. Half the hand movements seemed only to be mischievious imitations, feints. Feigning a knife thrown when in fact nothing but air was moved and no sound was made.
Canard stumbled stumbled backward sweeping his staff deftly. Moving knives out of his way like a cars windscreen wiper moving drops of rain. He paused to look down as he heard a mocking twanging sound as he saw one of the blades stuck into his peg leg. “Great” he sighed.
Pookie rolled without drawing his sword. The small thin blades arcing following his trajectory and flowing over his shoulder and head. They pierced the tent wall leaving pin pricks of orange glowing light probing into the dusty murk of the tent.
Before they could catch their breath and counter there was another distinct set of stealth ripping and lashing sounds. In moments there was a new perfectly rectangular door in the side of the tent. A pause later; knives were entering without warning in the same slap dash pattern.
Canard cursed as he span his polearm trying to deflect the flurry of knives aimed directly at him. A few of them slipped passed taking some skin off his arms as they flew by.
“Fucker!” He cried as his swept polearm around like a javelin and in anger launched it through the new gap in the tent. “How you like that?!”
The other assailant still hidden in the falling dust and murk was focusing all their attention on Pookie. From them came an unrelenting torrent of knives and possibly other kitchen implements. Leaving no room for a counter attack at all, there was no pause in the assault. He couldn’t even draw his sword without a knife aimed directly at his thumb. Pookie ducked down pulling his cot onto it’s side as makeshift cover.
He waited there for a second listening to the steady drum beat of knives embedding into the paper thin mattress.
Canard’s staff came walking through the doorway sticking out of the chest of a tall thin man wearing all black with a hood. His face painted ghostly white spattered red with the blood running from his lips. A knife clutched in his hand as he staggered forward his mouth agape with no sounds escaping his petrified face.
He stumbled into the room, his eyes wide and full of a muted hatred. He lurched forward throwing his last knife at Canards head before sagging his shoulders forward.
Canard awkwardly rolled forward on his one leg, his peg clattering on the earthen floor. Springing on his forward hand he swept the leg of the killer forcing him forward onto his staff.
The staff point poking out of his back like the tip of a lollipop someone bit off. The wooden staff bracing him against the ground like a kickstand as he flailed for more knives to throw.
Canard rolled to his feet and kicked his stack flipping the mime onto his back. He gripped the end of his staff ratcheting it as he tried to free it from the half dead mime writhing on the ground. The mime’s eyes still had a dim light in them and finding another sharp shank to poke with he stabbed at Canard’s good leg.
The acrobat shifted his weight quickly onto his peg and pirouetted away from the attack “Would you die already!?” He screamed as he turned about stamping his good foot on the mime’s knife hand. The mime grimacing in a silent scream revealing a stump where his tongue used to be between his blackened teeth.
Pookie sat behind his low cover waiting for the little thuds to stop rattling the cot, gap in the attack so he could act. They had to run out of things to throw eventually, but there was no way of knowing how many knives they actually had.
There, a brief pause in the angry rhythmic thuddings, Pookie waited for another gap, trying to see if there was a pattern. Two knives, then a pause, then three knives, they must be trying to preserve their ammo, which means they’re running low. Then one knife followed by a pause then two more.
Then it stopped ominously.
Pookie had his blade sheathed sitting next to him as he listened to silence. There wasn’t a sound, not even a breath.
Pookie looked over at the stupid grinning face on the butt of his sword and hatched a stupid idea. He didn’t really have enough room to draw his sword cramped up against the wall of the tent and the mattress. Which is fine because if he could he might’ve been tempted to just hop over the cover and charge headlong into the unknown. Which seemed to be working for him up until now. But without knowing the position of his attacker he could be royally fucked with a spork between his shoulder blades.
Holding onto the scabbard he poked the handle with the silly face over the top of the mattress. Predictably followed by a light thunk. He quickly pulled it back and plucked a literal sharpened spork out of the handle of his sword.
“Gotcha now” He smirked to himself.
He positioned himself low and listened “Fuck it.” He cursed under his breath as he gripped the lacquered sheath of his sword in one hand and the ring pull mechanism in the other. Holding it in front of him like he was holding onto the pin of a grenade.
“Gotta do this fast” He said to himself.
In one fluid motion he lifted his sword above his head and over the cover pointing that ridiculous smiling face in the direction the knife came from. He yanked the cord hard like he thought a parachute or a cannonball might shoot out or a thousand lawnmowers might start up with a jolt.
The sword flew through the air like a missile carried on the wings of the tinny laughter coming from the smiling devil face mocking life and death.
–
Using his staff still poking out of the mime’s chest as leverage Canard thrust his peg leg through the mime’s eye socket. A guttural squelching crunching sound as the leg widened out crushing and piercing the soft eye, cracking the skull. The dull emotionless face of the mime still staring up at him without uttering a sound.
Pookie listened and he heard a hard thud and a clash and clatter like someone tripped and pulled out a whole cutlery draw. Cautiously he poked his head over the mattress and saw the soles of shoes staring back at him. As the dust started to settle a toppled figure lying on the ground like a puddle of spilt milk appeared.
Pookie circled around the mattress and dragged his naked sword off the earthen floor. He looked down at the figure dressed in black, a mat of long hair covering their face.
“Die die die!” Canard cried as he stomped his peg leg repeatedly into the frozen ghostlike face of the mime. Blood and brains and shards of bone bursting up at him with each stomp until little remained except the hood and a few clumps of sodden hair and teeth.
“Would you stop fucking around?” Pookie said.
“What’s up?” Canard replied.
“I think we fucked up.”
“You don’t say.” Canard said as he limped over shaking a piece of scalp off his peg leg, some visible teeth embedded into the gnawed and splintered wood.
Pookie stood as he slid the sheath of his sword back into his pants. He pointed his sword at the face of the mime who tried to kill him. Using the pointy end of the sword he turned their face over.
“Well fuck me” Canard said.
“Jersey” Pookie said as he sheathed his sword.
–
Read the rest of this shit over on inkitt.
0

Starship troopers pilot end scene

Yeah well that’s that I guess.

Kinda running out of content but I changed tacts recently I decided if I just wasn’t feeling Kur 2 I wouldn’t continue until I was in the mood for it and just to write something else for fun until I was up to it.

I mean there’s no point in writing more Kur if I think it’s garbage or my hearts not in it so I’ve just been working on other stuff, which will be a really shit surprise for thursday haha.

So don’t hold your breath for that. Most of my time and energy is going towards finding a new job and getting out of this shitty country and being with my daughter. Writing is on the back burner until that in the works.

Probably gonna do a Captain Marvel review because I pirated it last night and I hated it but I’m not sure I have enough to say about it because it was such a nothing burger of a film. Even by marvel standards it was just bleh, completely formless and pointless with some of the most cringe dialogue ever written. I kind of had to force myself to believe it was made by people and not an algorithm.

Anyway gotta get to proofreading that new shitty stuff I was writing instead of Kur for thursday and of course flooding barbados with my cv haha.

See you…

–

ExT. in space above the planet. day

 

 

We return to Rico as he falls in and out of consciousness

faling

towards the planet in his damaged pod.

 

 

DiZZY

 

 

RICO!

 

 

JELLY

 

 

RICO! YOU’RE A SITTING DUCK KID!

 

 

 

 

 

JELLY (

CONT’D

)

 

 

YOU NEED TO BREAK AWAY FROM YOUR POD OR THEY’LL PICK UP YOUR HEAT

SIG

.

 

 

JELLY (

CONT’D

)

 

 

RICO CAN YOU HEAR ME?

 

 

Rico is barely conscious as he’s falling getting faster. He wakes up and inhales and muscle memory starts to kick in and he engages the servos in his power armor.

 

 

JELLY (

CONT’D

)

 

 

YOU HAVE TO WAIT UNTIL YOU PASS THE ATMOSPHERE OR YOU’LL BURN UP!

 

 

JELLY (

CONT’D

)

 

 

RICO CAN YOU HEAR ME?

 

 

The pod is entering the atmosphere and its rough, it’s hot and parts of the pod are coming off.

 

 

He clears the outer atmosphere and starts into free fall. He starts to kick his way out of his pod. The huge desert planet getting larger and coming faster at him as he falls.

 

 

 

 

 

Power armor voice

 

 

Proximity alert! Proximity alert!

 

 

Rico flips a release to break away the last layer of the egg pod.

 

 

The first charge pops all the straps and then the outer shell.

 

 

Now he’s actually falling, nothing separating him from the outside world, just his suit and falling with the air under his feet.

 

 

POWER ARMOR VOICE (

CONT’D

)

 

 

Brace for impact!

 

 

He looks around the terrain and sees enemies firing on his pod. Scanning the terrain he straightens up his fall into a

swandive

and then pops his first shoot and is yanked up into the air out of the sight of the enemy snipers.

 

 

He disengages the first shoot and tries to engage the second but it was damaged during the fall.

 

 

PoWER ARMOR VOICE (

CONT’D

)

 

 

Proximity alert! Brace for impact.

 

 

He falls through the roof of an alien building of some sort.

 

 

JELLY

 

 

RICO, IF YOU’RE ALIVE AND CAN HEAR THIS, SCAN MY BEACON.

 

 

Enemy soldiers surround the building.

 

 

A light inside Rico’s helmet lights up his face, blood trickling down it from a head wound.

 

 

A sudden quick shape shoots from the roof of the building and in it’s wake it leaves behind a bomb.

 

 

The bomb explodes dispatching the area.

 

 

JELLY (

CONT’D

)

 

 

RICO REPORT!

 

 

RICO

 

 

My shoot malfunctioned, snoopers say I’m on the wrong side of the river.

 

 

RICO (

CONT’D

)

 

 

I have your beacon locked.

 

 

RicO (

CONT’D

)

 

 

On my way to you.

 

 

JELLY

 

 

Shit

son, you had me worried.

 

 

JELLY (

CONT’D

)

 

 

Don’t lag behind.

 

 

The explosion in the warehouse he blows up goes off again igniting some ignitable substance and knocking Rico off balance.

 

 

He squares up and keeps moving.

 

 

Rico looks at device that allows him to see the formation of his squad.

 

 

RiCO

 

 

ACE REDRESS YOUR LINE

 

 

Ace

 

 

Rico, so you’re alive.

 

 

RICO

 

 

YOUR LINE.

 

 

ACE

 

 

YES SIR!

 

 

Rico hops the river in his power suit and makes his way to a sweet spot he picked out, a grouping of buildings on a hills he was planning to hit.

 

 

Rico loads and cocks a rocket launcher from his back.

 

 

RiCO

 

 

ACE STRAIGHTEN UP I SAID!

 

 

ACE

 

 

YES SIR!

 

 

JELLY

 

 

ALL HANDS!

 

 

JELLY (

CONT’D

)

 

 

PLATOON, BY LEAPFROG! FORWARD!

 

 

SERGEANT JOHNSON

 

 

BY LEAPFROG! ODD NUMBERS! ADVANCE!

 

 

Rico lines of up his rocket launcher pulling the first trigger to lock and then the second trigger decimating what could be a temple or a palace.

 

 

RICO

 

 

SECOND SECTION, EVEN NUMBERS

 

 

Rico jumps clear of the building.

 

 

RiCO (

CONT’D

)

 

 

ADVANCE!

 

 

His power suit allows him to jump the next row of buildings as he advances.

 

 

With his free hand he uses a hand flamer to burn the buildings as he passes.

 

 

He fires another set of

H.E

bombs from the Y rack on his shoulders but passes too quickly to see their effect, just bathed in the light of the explosions against the night sky.

 

 

An enemy comes out of the building Rico is approaching they see

eachother

.

 

 

JELLY

 

 

ODD NUMBERS ADVANCE!

 

 

Rico flames him and jumps over the building he’s coming out of.

 

 

But he’s distracted by having to act so fast and he poorly times his jump coming up too high and too wide leaving him exposed.

 

 

He attracts the attention of a group of enemies and comes down badly on the roof of a factory covered in pipes and wires.

 

 

He jumps again scattering a cluster bomb to keep them busy.

 

 

RiCO

 

 

SECOND SECTION! EVEN NUMBERS

 

 

RICO (

CONT’D

)

 

 

ADVANCE!

 

 

Rico sees something in the distance and gets a high vantage point to activate his snoopers. His gear is firing their payloads automatically now as he lands after each jump. He sees some sort of large building in the distance which he thinks could be their waterworks.

 

 

JeLLY

 

 

JOHNNY! RED! START BENDING IN THE FLANKS!

 

 

RiCO

 

 

SIR!

 

 

RED

 

 

SIR!

 

 

Rico activates his beacon.

 

 

RiCO

 

 

SECOND SECTION CURVE IN!

 

 

RICO (

CONT’D

)

 

 

SQUAD LEADER ACKNOWLEDGE!

 

 

ACE

 

 

SURE THING!

 

 

 

 

 

ACE (

CONT’D

)

 

 

Already on it, pick up your feet.

 

 

The home defences start to rally and Rico narrowly dodges a missile fired at him, rattling his teeth.

 

 

Then a beam is fired overhead and he stops frozen.

 

 

He jumps frantically trying to keep moving and get out of that spot landing in a crowd of enemies firing his flamer in a wide fast burst.

 

 

He moves on but his Y rack has run out of bombs and he stops to reload it with the last of his

H.E

bombs and check his position.

 

 

He flips his snoopers up to scan the battle field for something substantial to hit with his last two A rockets.

 

 

He fires off into the distance there are a series of unidentified explosions above so Rico decides not to risk a jump.

 

 

He takes out a beam knife and cuts through the buildings instead cutting and blasting through the buildings.

 

 

Rico unintentionally breaks into a huge room full of aliens. There’s a pause as neither knows how to react.

 

 

It seems to be full of civilians taking shelter but one scared skinny takes a shot at him, hitting his armor.

 

 

Rico is rattled and jumps for cover instinctively leaving them behind a little present.

 

 

The bomb he throws

sqwarks

in their own language.

 

 

Bomb (captions)

 

 

I am a thirty second bomb!

 

 

BOMB (

CONT’D

)

 

 

Twenty nine seconds,

 

 

BOMB (

CONT’D

)

 

 

Twenty eight!

 

 

BOMB (

CONT’D

)

 

 

Twenty seven…

 

 

Rico doesn’t stick around he jumps through the roof of the building and gets a bearing on his formation.

 

 

JELLY

 

 

CIRCLE IS CLOSED, BUT THE BEACON ISN’T DOWN YET.

 

 

JELLY (

CONT’D

)

 

 

MOVE UP SLOWLY, MILL AROUND.

 

 

JELLY (

CONT’D

)

 

 

CAUSE A LITTLE MORE TROUBLE!

 

 

JELLY (

CONT’D

)

 

 

GOOD JOB SO FAR.

 

 

JELLY (

CONT’D

)

 

 

DON’T SPOIL IT

 

 

JELLY (

CONT’D

)

 

 

PLATOON! BY SECTIONS…

 

 

JELLY (

CONT’D

)

 

 

MUSTER!

 

 

A skinny pokes his head around a corner and Rico throws a bomb at him.

 

 

JohNSON

 

 

SECOND SECTION, CALL OFF!

 

 

MIGLIACCIO

 

 

FOUR HERE!

 

 

JACKSON

 

 

FIVE

 

 

SMITH

 

 

SIX HERE!

 

 

BRUTO

 

 

SEVEN!

 

 

RICO

 

 

ACE, WHERE’S DIZZY?

 

 

ACE

 

 

NUMBER SIX, CALL OFF!

 

 

SMITH

 

 

SIXTH SQUAD, FLORES MISSING

 

 

ACE

 

 

SQUAD LEADER OUT FOR PICK UP!

 

 

RICO

 

 

ONE MAN ABSENT.

 

 

RICO (

CONT’D

)

 

 

FLORES SQUAD SIX.

 

 

JOHNSON

 

 

MISSING OR DEAD?

 

 

RICO

 

 

I DON’T KNOW, ME AND ACE ARE DROPPING OUT FOR PICK UP.

 

 

JOHNSON

 

 

LET ACE HANDLE IT.

 

 

The pick up beacon is sounding but he turns off his

comms

.

 

 

JohNSON (

CONT’D

)

 

 

RICO DO YOU READ? RICO!

 

 

JELLY

 

 

HEADS UP! CLOSE TO RETRIEVAL.

 

 

JELLY (

CONT’D

)

 

 

ON THE BOUNCE!

 

 

RETRIEVAL BEACON’S VOICE

 

 

“- To the everlasting glory of the

infrantry

, shines the name, shines the name of the Rodger Young!”

 

 

Rico hears the sound but is heading in the opposite direction.

 

 

Rico

 

 

Ace you got her beacon?

 

 

Ace

 

 

I got her, I don’t need you, go back.

 

 

RiCO

 

 

I got you by eye now, where is she?

 

 

Ace

 

 

Right ahead of me,  maybe a quarter mile/ I said go back, she’s my man.

 

 

Rico isn’t listening he’s closing in on Ace.

 

 

He finds Ace standing over Dizzy who’s downed in her suit, a couple of dead

skinnys

near her.

 

 

Ace turns to see Rico.

 

 

AcE (

CONT’D

)

 

 

I told you I didn’t need you.

 

 

Rico

 

 

Is she hurt?

 

 

Ace

 

 

I can’t tell,

why’d

take her helmet off?

 

 

RicO

 

 

Where is it?

 

 

Rico takes his helmet off to get a better look at her.

 

 

ACE

 

 

It’s over there, don’t touch it. It’s covered in something weird.

 

 

Rico goes up to her to check if she’s

ok

.

 

 

RICO

 

 

Diz

, can you hear me?

 

 

RICO (

CONT’D

)

 

 

Help me get her out of her armor, we’ll carry her to pick up

 

 

They disconnect her from her suit but something’s wrong, she’s comatose and mumbling to herself.

 

 

DIZZY

 

 

No-can’t-leave-don’t-come

 

 

Ace

 

 

What’s she saying?

 

 

RiCO

 

 

I

dunno

let’s get her

outta

here.

 

 

 

 

 

They attempt to lift her but she start seizing and flailing like her body isn’t her own and she reaches for her side arm and shoots Rico in the eye.

0

Diana in the dark epilogue ‘Waltz me to the grave’ (remurdered)

Henlo there,

Gonna be really light on content this week, not that my imaginary is that bothered but they’re simply a stand in for myself and I am disappoint haha. Just been too busy to get any writing done, still hoping against hope that I’ll get this new job, I think I might be a good for it. The other job I applied for to the same place already came back as a no and they’re both closed but I didn’t get a rejection for the one I actually wanted so I’m definitely being considered for it which feels great.

But even if I don’t get it, it changes nothing, my goal is to get to her and I god willing I’ll get a job there and be able to be there for her in some way shape or form. That’s all that matters. I just wish I’d realised sooner, it might be too late now. I dunno, I can’t think like that.
Might do a poem tomorrow since I have nothing else. I did watch that new Jordan Peele movie US and I thought it was kinda shitty. Like a cool idea that was just fumbled, I think it could have made a better tv show. I know he’s doing a twilight zone tv show remake and it might have been a better fit. Because the movie both feels kind of compressed and also really lacking in the necessary lore.
It just made no sense and was kind of silly, like the tone wasn’t right and none of the main cast die so there’s no real tension or drama. It could’ve been a 12a really. There just wasn’t a lot of depth to it, there wasn’t a lot going on. Kinda got Strangers vibes and a few other movies but it just didn’t really do anything very interesting. It was like a cargo cult movie. It looked and felt like a slasher style movie maybe aping the ones from the eighties and nineties but it didn’t have any of the personality or soul of those movies. There wasn’t enough character development or subplot or moral lessons in it to really feel like there was a conclusion. 

The main character didn’t go on a journey, they were just reacting to what was happening to them. There were elements hinting on emotional/personal struggles that could’ve been core to the movies themes but they were never really developed. The movie is long but it feels short because of the lack of real content.

Not to say I didn’t enjoy it, it was a pretty fun romp. But it was ultimately substance-less. Although I’m sure some people can pick out deep social themes it at least wasn’t as preachy and heavy handed as Get out. Still I enjoyed it more than the pet cemetery remake.

Anyway, supposed to be looking for more jobs, mainly because waiting to here back about the one I really want is driving me nuts.

See you…

–

“Oh, Paul, oh, Paul!” I pretended to weep as they lowered the coffin into the ground.

As fate would have it, this was the first funeral I’d ever been to. I sincerely doubted it would be my last.

I actually kind of liked it, there was a comfort in the routine of it, the ceremony was soothing. Everyone gathered together to think the nicest possible thoughts of the dearly departed, wearing their nicest clothes. There was solemn dignity, and lots of tears—real or otherwise.

It was a lovely service, flowers, tearful speeches from people I barely knew and the promise of cake in the near future.

“Oh, Paul,” I wept again into a balsam tissue.

“Shhh.” He patted my head, as I rested it on his shoulder.

Thankfully, he remembered very little of our little midnight drive into the middle of nowhere. A combination of all the blows to the head, and a cocktail of drugs concocted by my dear brother.

My dear brother—who was not yet dearly-departed, but still on the run. From what, I couldn’t be sure, because as far as the Orange County authorities were concerned, Antoine Ruiz was, and forever would be, the Huntington Beach Headsman. A title far above his station.

As far my brother had any say in it, Ruiz would never be found, and the myth, the meme, could live on forever. The evil slasher come to life to terrorize a group of innocent teens on prom night. Leaving one not so virginal survivor and her stalwart and tight lipped boyfriend.

There was something about that the normies liked, a divine ritual fulfilled. Like Hollywood had been setting them up for the very occurrence, and been vindicated in the best possible way. Slipped right in place into their cultural consciousness like it was another Friday night.

With that and a little help from our man in the high castle with a claw for a hand it all seemed to wrap up nicely, a neat little bow of red tape, signed sealed and delivered by uncle Sam himself.

I continued to pretend to cry, just making the noise of crying and covering my face, constantly batting away fake tears, no one was watching.

“You need another tissue?” My au-sister Mary Anne asked, pulling a fresh pack out of her purse and giving me a tight restrained smile.

We’d settled on my just calling her my aunt; aunt-sister was a bit of a mouthful, and calling her by her name just felt weird. Plus, I really didn’t want to get bogged down in explaining to people that she wasn’t actually my aunt, but in fact my estranged half-sister, pretending to be my aunt, because we’d watched our real aunt butchered before our eyes, then be put on display like a hunting trophy by our brother, my half-brother. That all seemed best tucked away for a rainy day.

“Thanks,” I took the tissues, smiling a nice fake smile, far better than my brother’s. My estimation of how deep the knife had penetrated Dharma’s side was off by a wide margin.

I would’ve assumed he didn’t want to kill her but necessity for his own life had forced him to act. Similarly, the shot being off-center, it would’ve been nice to think she’d extended him the same courtesy but that might’ve been a stretch, since she mostly carried really strong pepper spray, giving out tickets in cycle shorts. Never the less, her arm was in a fashionable sling for some reason. I never understood why they did that in movies; he hadn’t stabbed her in the arm.

A sudden prodding feeling roused me from my daydream, and I looked over at the grave and the nice picture they had over it. It was the one of the several taken at her sweet sixteen. Wendy did look nice in that one, so full of life. Who would’ve suspected her of anything worse than forgetting to floss?

That feeling again, like someone walking over my grave, someone drilling little hot holes in the back of my head.

I scanned the crowd of her fake friends, the rest of the cheerleading squad, her many exes—the last notwithstanding—and me, her best friend.

Then I saw her.

She was hard to miss, now that I’d noticed her. Dressed as she was, in correctional-facility orange, and chained to two cops. Her dark deep set eyes sent me icy daggers on angel wings. Her hair was long and greasy looking and made curtains of a plain white flat unmade face. Prison make-unders were a real thing.

What did they have against makeup in prison? It wasn’t like eyeliner was against the law. Conditioner even.

Wendy’s mother, the one currently on trial for the murder of her husband. Looking right at me. Not around, not past, but through me.

She knew.

I could see it in her face.

I didn’t know how she knew, but I’d find out given half a chance, when that happy vicious moon was smiling high in the sky again.

D and I would ask nicely.

0

Starhip troopers tv show pilot Part 9

Hey there,

I was busy yesterday so no blogging could be achieved and I probably wont have new content next week because I’m working a lot but hey gotta make that bread right.

More starship troopers stuff, I keep seeing that meme going around that they’re making a new tv show but I don’t see any development, I think it was like I thought. It’s just someone trying to meme it into reality, it’s not actually happening. I really hope it doesn’t happen because obviously I dream of making it myself, but I know no one else but me will do it justice. 
I know it’s going to be super progressive woke garbage and won’t do the original source material justice. It’ll just regurgitate the stuff from the movies to pay lip service to them and completely shit on the book.

Oh that reminds me I just got a horrible taste in my mouth because netflix just released the cast for the cowboy bebop live action tv show and it’s even worse than the witcher, oh my fucking god, how do they keep getting away with this?
Jet and Faye are ok but who cares about them? Spike is who matters and there’s no sugar coating it they literally hired Harold from Harold and Kumar to be Spike fucking Spiegel. An asian actor who has no martial arts experience as far as I know, but does Spike Spiegel sound like an asian name? 
Cowboy Bebop always played the racial card close to the chest because these are people literally being born and raised on other planets. Spike is a martian literally, and his influences are obviously western and he’s based on an asian cop character as far as I know and Bruce Lee. So I mean by all means make him asian as long as you get an asian who has martial arts experience and can do Jeet Kune do. 
Don’t hire a random asian guy from fucking stoner comedies that suck. 

The problem we have is that there aren’t really any martial arts actors anymore, outside of the guys from the raid and Keanu reeves (Who would’ve made an excellent spike when he was younger). Martial arts movies aren’t really a thing anymore in the west. Action movies aren’t even really a thing. All we have are these sterile castrated comic book movies that are just glorified kids movies that appeal to perpetually stunted adults.

Which should be right up my alley right? Wrong.

Gone are the days Arnie engages in strangely philosophical action killing sprees, now he just makes movies that mock those movies.

Big block buster movies aren’t made for adults anymore, even the deadpool movies weren’t really for adults, they were just the same childish shit dialed up to 11 with no filter. Logan was what we really wanted and what the comic book movies could have been if the people who made these movies gave a shit about anything other than making stinking piles of money.

I gotta stop because I could rant about this for days and I really need to do some proof reading since I lost yesterday.

See you…

 

–

EXT. Terra in a park. Day

 

 

A couple of MI troops approach a bunch of kids. One of the troops holds up his weapon.

 

 

Mi troop

 

 

A fully automatic

bareeta

, who wants to hold it?

 

 

The kids jump up and down shouting.

 

 

Kids

 

 

ME! ME! ME!

 

 

The soldiers chuckle to themselves happily as they watch the kids fight over who gets to hold the gun.

 

 

VOICE OVER

 

 

Citizen rule, fighting together for a better tomorrow.

 

 

They show one of the kids how to aim it and hold it.

 

 

They start handing out bullets to touch.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

InT. a federal missile silo.

 

 

A giant missile is moved on a rail system.

 

 

VOICE OVER

 

 

It’s big it’s deadly and everyone has an opinion on the new Q bomb!

 

 

VOICE OVER (

CONT’D

)

 

 

Experts worry about the ethics of a bomb so powerful it can crack a planet.

 

 

We see a graphic

represention

of the bomb blowing up a whole planet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

EXT. terra outside a courthouse. Day.

 

 

A middle aged politician addresses a camera with his aides behind him as he descends the steps of a courthouse.

 

 

JACQUES LANCASTER

 

 

The creation of a planet that can destroy an entire planet is a dangerous precedent for the entire human race.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

InT. interview room. Day.

 

 

We cut to an interview with Murray Rosenthal credited as an expert in a graphic.

 

 

Murray Rosenthal

 

 

What people fail to realize is how many planets there are, would any average citizen even notice if one were missing?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

EXT. outside a federal building. Day.

 

 

A video of an explosion at a federal building.

 

 

VOICE OVER

 

 

A bombing earlier today injuring many on federal service men is believed to be at the hands of the terrorist organization know as the Gonneck peace movement.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ExT. outside a courthouse. Day.

 

 

A video of a fat man in a wheelchair with meddles on his chest is holding up a peace sign board and shouting into a megaphone.

 

 

VOICE OVER

 

 

This man Elmo Gonneck, head of this movement is wanted for questioning.

 

 

Elmo gonneck

 

 

Get that camera out of my face.

 

 

VOICE OVER

 

 

If you see something, say something, you could be in for a big fat reward.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

InT. a studio. Night.

 

 

In a studio two academics are having a disagreement about the treatment of the

skinnies

.

 

 

VOICE OVER

 

 

Federal scientists grapple with the moral issues surrounding the pacification of the

skinnies

.

 

 

Woman

 

 

The way we’ve treated those poor creatures is barbaric, it’s inhumane.

 

 

Man

 

 

Are you listening to yourself?

 

 

MAN (

CONT’D

)

 

 

It’s right there in the middle of the word ‘inhumane’.

 

 

MAN (

CONT’D

)

 

 

The word you’re looking for is ‘human’.

 

 

MAN (

CONT’D

)

 

 

They’re not human, they’re alien and they’re a threat.

 

 

WoMAN

 

 

My research states that they’re a peaceful race of people and they deserve the respect…

 

 

MAN

 

 

They’re not

humana

and they don’t ‘deserve’ a damn thing and frankly I find it offensive you’d even suggest such a thing.

 

0

Starship troopers pilot part 8

Yeah so I had a work thing on thursday and when I got home I felt like shit and didn’t want to do anything, hence no content haha.

Which is fine because the only person I let down is myself as always.

I decided just to call them ‘parts’ instead of scenes because the scenes are so short some of them I just decided to lump them together.

This scene specifically is displaying the incongruities between the book and the movie. Because in the movie he’s dating Carmen and they break up and there’s this love square going on. But in the book they’re more like acquaintances and they go on one date later on. They’re not in love, the book isn’t about love, Diz isn’t even a character in the book, he’s just a guy who dies in the first chapter haha.

So there’s no love triangle, there’s no square, there isn’t even a love line or a love circle haha.

And although I’m sort of super autistic about romances, I don’t know how to write a good romance and although I think including romance in your story is sort of played out, I really do think it’s necessary and I appreciate a good romance in a story. As long as it’s not tacky or too over the top. 

Like for instance the romance in the expanse is handled really well. There are two romances one between a cop and a girl he knows is dead. And another between the two main characters which I really like. Because in shows like this you either get these shitty ‘will they won’t they’ romances where they constantly dangle a romance and never deliver or deliver at the end. Or they have the romance and it has rocky patches here and there and what not and it seems like it’s going for the later but so far I like it. It’s nice, not too in your face or over the top and I think one of the reasons I might be having feelings for my ex is that Naomi really reminds me of her. I know it’s really stupid.

A good example of a shitty over the top romance is probably between Geralt and Yenniffer in the witcher books. Because their romance is like built up to be this epic, world altering romance but in every other part of the book they’re just two people that are kind of asshole and hate eachother haha. Yennifer is probably one of the least likeable characters of all the books and Geralt is sort of a nothing character, he’s just an audience insert. So the romance is really wooden but you’re meant to believe it’s shakespeare because of how it’s built up, but it’s just cringe. As you can tell I’m team Triss haha.

Yeah so I included the romance but sort of left a little more to the imagination. I elevated the non-romance in the book and brought the romance down a notch from the movie. So it’s like a sliding scale of narrative romance the lowest being no romance going up to ‘will they won’t they’ to the highest ‘oh they did and it fucked up’ haha.

I didn’t watch a film this week or have anything worth reviewing, just been in a miasma of work and videogames and hating life. I barely managed to get a chapter done this week. Which is shameful considering I could average a chapter a day at one point. I dunno, my mind is just on trying to find a new job and be with the people most important to me right now. I’m sort of shelving writing but I can’t actually stop so I’m just keeping my pen moving.

But I can’t complain really, well I can and I will but you know.

Well that’s enough for today. I will have a chapter of Cur done by thursday for all those masses of no people that read this.

See you…

–

INT. Rico parents house. Day.

 

 

RiCO’S DAD

 

 

You’re going to

harvard

, not throwing your life away like this.

 

 

RicO

 

 

It’s my life, my decision, not yours! I’m going!

 

 

RiCO’S DAD

 

 

You’re going on vacation and that’s the last of it. You’ll resign, it’ll look bad but it’s better than wasting your life.

 

 

RiCO

 

 

I wont quit! I wanna be a citizen!

 

 

RiCO’S DAD

 

 

If you walk out of that door you’re cut off, do you understand me?

 

 

Rico walks off, his mother takes him by the arm,

 

 

 

 

 

Rico’S MOM

 

 

Johnny does citizenship really mean that much to you?

 

 

RiCO’S MOM (

CONT’D

)

 

 

No one in mine or your fathers family has ever had citizenship and look at us, the nice house we live, the life we live.

 

 

RiCO

 

 

(Hesitantly) Yeah, I guess.

 

 

Rico’S MOM

 

 

I hope you’re not ruining your life over some silly little girl who wants you to look handsome putting on a uniform.

 

 

RICO

 

 

It’s not – it’s not like that. I can’t explain it. I just – I just need to get out on my own.

 

 

Rico walks off to the station with his bags packed.

 

 

RicO’S MOM

 

 

Johnny!

 

 

 

 

 

ExT. A pARK. DAY

 

 

Johnny and Carmen are enjoying a day at the park when a weird blue light fills the atmosphere. The ground shakes and rocks start to float in the air as everything around them is decimated.

 

 

 

 

 

INT. ROGER YOUNG SPACE SHIP.

 

 

Rico is in a darkened room in the ship looking down at the earth through a huge window as it’s destroyed by a giant blue plasma meteorite. He watches the earth turning black and dying.

 

 

 

 

 

INT. Karl’s house. Night.

 

 

Rico wakes up in a cold sweat from his dream staying the night at Karls house to escape his parents.

 

 

He goes to get a drink of water and stares up into space at all the stars.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

EXT. Outside the transit hub on terra. Day.

 

 

Karl, Johnny and Carmen are meeting up to say their final

goodbyes

before they set off on their tour of service.

 

 

CARMEN

 

 

You ready?

 

 

RICO

 

 

I’m wearing everything I own?

 

 

KaRL

 

 

I told you your dad wouldn’t go for it.

 

 

RICO

 

 

Thanks for letting me stay at your place last night.

 

 

KARL

 

 

What are friends for?

 

 

CARMEN

 

 

Johnny, I’m sorry.

 

 

RiCO

 

 

It’s fine, the federation will give me everything I need for the next two years right?

 

 

KARL

 

 

Right

 

 

RICO

 

 

So Karl did you get

starside

R&D?

 

 

KARL

 

 

I don’t know yet, they said I need to undergo more tests in an off site facility, whatever that means. But a little birdie tells me

Carmencita

is heading off to the fleet academy.

 

 

CARMEN

 

 

A little birdie

eh

?

 

 

RiCO

 

 

Carmen, that’s great.

 

 

CaRMEN

 

 

What about you Johnnie?

 

 

KaRL

 

 

Yeah tough guy what did you even put down as preference?

 

 

RiCO

 

 

Hey that’s personal

ok

and I don’t know either, they need to run more tests too, I guess.

 

 

KaRL

 

 

Well,

ok

. I guess this is it.

 

 

CaRMEN

 

 

Hey, let’s make a pact

ok

? Let’s promise

nomatter

what happens that we’ll always be friends.

 

 

RiCO

 

 

Friends?

 

 

CARMEN

 

 

Friends

 

 

KarL

 

 

Well we’ll probably be in

seperate

galaxies light years away from

eachother

but sure why not?

 

 

CaRMEN

 

 

That’s the spirit.

 

 

KARL

 

 

Anyway my transport is leaving soon so I gotta go.

 

 

KARL (

CONT’D

)

 

 

Bye for now.

 

 

RiCO

 

 

See ya soon buddy.

 

 

CARMEN

 

 

Good luck Karl

 

 

CARMEN (

CONT’D

)

 

 

My transport is leaving soon too

 

 

RicO

 

 

I’ll see you off, help you with your luggage.

 

 

Rico helps her with her bags as she goes to the terminal.

 

 

CaRMEN

 

 

Are you sure, you might be late to your shuttle?

 

 

RiCO

 

 

Yeah of course.

 

 

She leads him off towards her shuttle platform.

 

 

RICO (

CONT’D

)

 

 

I couldn’t let you go without a proper goodbye.

 

 

CARMEN

 

 

A ‘proper goodbye’.

 

 

He puts her bags down.

 

 

RICO

 

 

Well you know.

 

 

He takes her and kisses her.

 

 

RICO (

CONT’D

)

 

 

I love you.

 

 

She boards the shuttle still looking at him.

 

 

RiCO (

CONT’D

)

 

 

You can say it too.

 

 

CaRMEN

 

 

Goodbye Johnny

 

 

The shuttle pulls away and jets off into space leaving Rico staring at his own reflection as there’s nothing but darkness there now.

 

 

0

Diana in the dark Chapter 13 ‘Daddy’s little darlings’ (Remurdered)

Ok, well I started it I guess.

Yeah started Cur 2 and it went about as well as it can be expected barely at half my usual output but it’s there. I can’t say it’s as good as Cur 1 for an opening by that I mean it’s boring-er and by that I mean Cur isn’t hacking people to pieces within the first few paragraphs. 

I wanted to go for a more slow build, actually I have no idea why I’m talking about this now I should wait until I finish proofreading it, gonna shelve this now and talk about something else, save that for another blog.

So I saw that new M. Night Shamalamadingdong movie glass and it fucking sucked. Why is anyone surprised by this?

Actually nevermind, I’ll save that for a review. Translation; I started talking about it not wanting to do a full review – which then turned into a full review I cut out for another blog haha.

So other than writing Cur which I can’t talk about and watching Glass which I also can’t talk about I’ve been playing Vampyr by dontnod, prolific developer of the award winning millennial walking simulator Life is strange. And honestly I… actually never mind, I’ll save that for it’s own blog haha.

Yeah so.. bye! X’D

–

When the darkness faded, I opened my eyes. He was there.

“Come on, I wanna show you something.” A little boy with a bowl cut hairstyle was leading me down a tight white hallway.

There was a door; he wanted me to go through.

What was on the other side?

The door was huge; I could barely reach the handle. It was turning red, the door, it was melting.

What’s in there?

“A surprise. I did it for you.”

Shapes appeared in the red goo the door was turning into. A face was pushing through the malleable material.

It’s my face, it’s a mirror.

A sudden jolt and my face hit something hard and flat. I was thrust back into the land of the living rather unceremoniously.

My head hurt, I was still seeing spots, but that was all. There was something over my eyes. I could almost feel the veins in my neck; my brain hurt like someone had slam dunked it through a stained glass window.

There was something wet and warm on my face, getting colder. Shit, blood, it had to be blood. “I’m bleeding” I cried out to the dark, to no one in particular.

“Relax,” a woman’s voice said. “It’s just drool—you can wipe it off when we get there.”

“Get where?” I asked.

“Prom, of course,” Wendy said.

I tried to move but my hands were strapped to something at my side. But I could feel the car plaining over wet roads, felt it turning, stopping. We were moving.

“Don’t move, don’t be dumb.” Her voice was tight, stern with a bitter frosty bite. “Don’t bother screaming, we’ll just crank the radio up, the windows are tinted no one can see us in here.” There was a cool commanding calm in her voice.

“Wendy, what’s going on?”

She laughed. “What’s going on? We’re going to prom, didn’t I just say that?”

The car slowly ground to a halt and I heard the driver get out.

“Just gotta make a little stop along the way,” She added.

“Wendy I—”

“I should’ve known it was you. My mom warned me about you; you’ve always been jealous of me. How did you know?” The jewelry on her arm jangled as she talked, no doubt gesturing to someone blindfolded. “I bet you felt really fucking clever, sending me those little notes… How clever do you feel now, huh?”

The passenger side door to my left opened and something big and heavy was slung at my side.

“Don’t make a fucking noise, puto, don’t make me shoot you!” a man’s voice said.

The door shut again and the large sack of potatoes started to writhe and make groaning grunting noises in the seat next to me.

“What the fuck Denny? I told you not to hurt him, he’s fucking bleeding!”

“I had to hit him with the gun, big white boy wouldn’t come on his own, thought he was a tough guy.”

“Now I’m gonna have to clean him up, you better not have got blood on his tux,” she screeched.

“What the hell’s going on? Is this a prank? It’s not very funny,” the potato sack said in between pained groans.

“Paul! Is that you?” I said.

“Diana? Are you—?” he said groggily.

“Just stay cool,” I said.

“What the hell, Di?” my boyfriend groaned.

“What’s going on is, I’m not going to let you white trash pieces of shit ruin my senior prom.” Wendy’s voice got fast and high pitch. “Already close to ruined; having it in that fucking laser arcade. I wanted it at the beach club, but noooo that wasn’t cool enough for little miss ‘ooh look at me I’m so quirky and interesting!” She made a clucking noise in her throat, as if trying to get more spit in her mouth. “Me being the great friend I am, let it slide, but no you gotta stab me in the back and try to ruin it with your little knife in the dark Marco polo horror movie bullshit!” She tutted “I wasn’t taking any chances after getting that second corny note so I had Denny camp out in my closet just in case and look who happened by.”

“Wendy?” Paul asked. “What’s she talking about? What’s going?”

“Would you just shut up, you fucking meat head daddy’s boy retard!” She sucked her gums “It was probably you who sent me that weird video at school trying to freak me out” She scoffed “and what a coincidence yours was the only locker without a head—I can’t believe I didn’t see it until now” She took a deep breath and filled herself with sweetness and light and said. “We’re gonna be there soon, and we’re all gonna dance and have a great time; and then me and Brody are going to be crowned prom king and queen and then—”

“Then what?” I asked.

She laughed and I could feel her shifting closer to me, the leather creaking under her toned brown buns.

Wendy took the sleep mask off my face and put a small gun to my head, my small James Bond-type weapon, to be precise. She looked over at Paul and squeezed her thin spider leg eyebrows as tight as they would go. “Oh, for fucks sake!” She tutted as she pulled a tissue from her purse She spat in it rubbing furiously at the small nick at the side of Paul’s head where Denny had hit him. She stepped back after she was done, to get a good look at him. “There, you look great” She sat back in her seat in the front of the limo, with the small purse pistol trained on us. Wendy was in a gold taffeta dress, looking like a real princess.

Paul was in the tux my ‘aunt’ had picked out for him, tied to one of the arm rests with a plastic zip tie, the same as I was. He was slowly fading in and out of consciousness, like he’d taken a hit of Nyquil and whiskey.

The interior of the limo was huge. The ceiling was much higher than I’d expect, and coming in at a cool five-three I could probably comfortably stand up inside. It was almost as wide as a standard bus, with black leather couches on all sides, and a large bar-like table with cushioned corners all the way around, stretching across the length of the interior. To top it off, there were blue strobe lights around the ceiling, making it look almost like a mini-traveling strip club. It was missing the stripper pole though. No fog machine either.

I was wearing one of Wendy’s hand-me down-dresses she’d worn to the homecoming dance last year. It was a mess of pink lace that looked like an explosion in a cotton candy factory. Insult to injury received. Pretty in pink my ass.

“You two make such a cute couple.” She smirked. She tapped the glass between the passenger compartment and the driver’s cab. “Denny, you’re driving like an old lady, are we there yet?”

–

Yeah well you can’t read this version because I said so, maybe I’ll give it away at the end of the year but only for people on my mailing list so there haha. But you can read the raw free version right here but don’t because it sucks.

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Loverman Chapter 9 “Night of the lotus eaters”

Hey there,
Whenever I start one of these I always have no idea what to talk about then I end up waffling for like an hour.
So tomorrow I start Cur 2 I guess, I’m not that psyched for it for some reason which is bad because I really enjoyed writing the plan for it but now it’s time to pay the piper and I’m just dreading it being shit. I dunno, I think I just need to get back on the horse and I’ll feel better, I always feel better when I’m writing. I really just need some feedback, I need someone to believe in me and there aren’t enough of those people around.
What have I been doing in the mean time, surprising yesterday was a pretty busy day, the poem was sort of prepacked honestly but I got this proofread and I managed to clean up a lot of the pitch for Cur and send it to a couple of places that might accept it. But who knows.
In other news my gamepass subscription is almost up but what should pop up within a week or two of it running out but Vampyr, a game I’ve sort of been eyeing for a while but people kept telling me was shitty and full of political nonsense. Which I believed because dontnod is famous for having these really social justicey liberal games like life is strange and life is strange 2 which is hilarious to watch lets plays of because it’s almost as cringe and on the nose as a David Cage game. They’re not subtle.
But honestly this just seems like a good game and I don’t feel like a narrative is being forced down my throat, it just feels like a solid rpg with good mechanics and I’m really enjoying it.
I think I’ll definitely do a review of it and possibly another playthrough, it kinda feels like bloodborne meets the witcher 3, but we’ll see how it pans out.
That’s about it for today I guess, no big rant planned. I think I’ll spend the rest of my day looking for reviews of Cur, maybe find some more publishers
–
Of course I had no idea what was on the piece of paper only that it seemed to spur Ericcson into a fit of furious action. He drove in almost a trance like state, gripping the wheel so hard I could hear the plastic and leather creaking. I was perturbed to try and wake him from it. I caught a glimpse of the paper and it appeared to be some kind of flyer advertising an event of some sort. I hadn’t the faintest idea what possessed him to kill those men at the gas station. And even less of an idea why a piece of paper they were carrying would cause him to act like this. It made no sense at all, well it made as much sense as it would in a dream. I didn’t want to think about that, I didn’t want to put into any conceptual process to discern whom was the dreamer and whom was the dream.
My reeling thoughts were rudely interrupted by the screeching of the well worn brakes of my mother’s long suffering Crysler. The bag I was in lurched forward and fell into the passenger side foot well.
From there I couldn’t see anything, just hear him getting out of the driver’s side and slamming the door shut behind him. Then more muffled fumblings until he opened the passenger side door and retrieved the bag I was in.
From my low angle it was too dark to make out the shape of the building he was taking me towards. There were no streetlights at all, just the sickly moon hanging half cast in the sky. There were no stars to speak of and the building seemingly had no lights or discernable activity going on outside.
But as Ericcson got closer it started to look familiar and I saw the patches of the burnt sickly pink stucco and I knew he’d taken us back. Back to the accursed place where I had died and he had fallen into this madness.
The pink bird mental institute.
Or what was left of it at least.
The building was a burnt out carcass of it’s former self, funny, I couldn’t recall a fire but it’s charred remains defied my recollection. It all happened so fast.
But why, why had he come back to this wicked place?
Then we both heard it, music, a low bass beat looped over and over.
Investigating the noise lead us around the side of the building. There was a door which seemed blackened from fire.
We approached it cautiously and as we did, the music increased in volume.
Ericcson pushed the door and it swung inward and we were assaulted by the loud bassy music blaring at us from below. Through the door was a darkened concrete stairwell leading down we assumed to the basement or some sublevel I hadn’t been privy to during the tour.
We descended the stairs following the loud ungodly music.
The basement level was fairly unremarkable service level. It housed mainly industrial size washers and driers, which seemed old and in disrepair. But they were not the source of the noise, that was deeper.
We followed a trail of shadeless hanging bulbs swaying in the complete darkness of the basement. They moved with what seemed like sentience, like the lights of an angler fish luring its prey into the crushing depths.
The darkness conjuring up such shapes in my head that would make what I had seen up to now seem like a harmless daydream. The shadows pulsed with the throbbing music, the lights swaying faster as we passed under them. At the end of this semi-dark hallway was a single green door.
There was no doubt that it was the source of the heart pounding music.
Ericcson opened the door but a crack, the music spilling out and assaulting my eardrums. With no hands to cover my ears I had no choice but to allow the din to dull and kill any sense I had until the noise became a ceaseless drone.
Although the music and the damage done to their ear drums didn’t seem to bother the shivering throngs of sallow cow eyed people dancing to it.
By my count there were at least a hundred strangely dressed people, young and old dancing in what seemed to be a large generator room. The lights strobing back and forth in time with the hypnotic drumming of the music.
Ericcson evidently saw something as he began to push his way through the crowd in the direction of the back wall. There was something, a fluttering of wings, black feathers floating to the ground. Coal black eyes looking at me from the far end of the room and then they were gone again.
I looked back at Ericcson and he was being lead through the room like a child by a woman, I could only see the back of her head. Her hair plaited down her back, she was wearing a black backless gown, her skin was pale and freckled. Looking her up and down I could see in her other hand she held a crow mask.
Ericcson was saying something to her but I couldn’t make it out over the music.
She turned and I could immediately see it was Jane, impossible, how could she have survived? But it was her, her glasses gone and her green eyes and red lips. She said something to Ericcson but I couldn’t read her lips. She smiled and turned away to lead him into the centre of the room.
He followed dutifully and I couldn’t fathom why until the crowd parted and I saw a little boy in his pyjamas standing alone in the crowd. He wasn’t crying, his face was placid and expressionless like he was sleep walking. He looked exactly like he did in my hallucination, like he’d been plucked right from it.
Ericcson dropped the duffel bag I was in and picked up his child, that’s when I noticed the strange symbol on the floor. It looked almost like a malformed five pointed star in a circle. It was like nothing I’d ever seen before except maybe through the gaps in my fingers. Or in feverish nightmares at the time I spent at that auspicious university in arkham.
I looked back at Jane, she was smiling and she held up her hand and showed him the ring. For a moment it was a parody postcard of a perfect family. She held his hand and then walked out of the circle leaving his hand to fall by his side. I watched her go, her smile turning it into a grotesque mask, a grin that seemed waxen, then she slipped the crow mask on.
–
If you want to read the rest of this weird shit, head on over to inkitt. Night of the lotus eaters
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Creep

I don’t belong here

What the hell am I doing

I should be with you.

 

I want you to notice

I want you to think of me

When I’m not around

 

I’m here and nowhere

Whatever makes you happy.

Whatever you want.

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