Search

Darkly Dreaming Demographic.

Where weird shit hits bizarre fans.

Open Search

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.

0

Resident Evil 2 Remake – Review

Yeah it’s good.

Fin.

No ok yeah after Spiderman ps4 sucked (despite making tons of cash) and Red dead 2 was the biggest snorefest I’ve ever had the misfortune of wasting my time on (despite making boatloads of cash) I really thought this game would be the threefer and suck also. Or at least just be disappointing.

I was sort of let down and wary after I heard they were ditching the fixed camera, because I loved the resident evil one remake, it’s probably one of the most perfect survival horror games ever made. It added really great stuff and just polished this amazing, iconic game.

So when I heard the remake of 2 wasn’t following suit I was a little bit put off. But I’m pleased to say I was totally wrong. I really loved the re-imagine gameplay, it’s really fun an addictive (I’m saying this after having played it through four times back to back on hardcore and I could happily sit down to another round right now). I thought the shooting would be too easy because of the resident evil 4 style camera but they add elements where its fun but still challenging.

Some of the biggest criticisms I’ve seen are the balancing. Because to make it harder to balance the better controls, head shots aren’t an instant kill anymore some zombies just wont go down. I must have used ten pistol shots at least half to the head the guy still gets back up, it’s insane. But at the same time, it’s thrilling, this is how it should be in a zombie apocalypse, zombies are supposed to be bullet sponges, if they weren’t it wouldn’t be scary. Also the fact that they’re so detailed and their animations are so good there actually aren’t that many in the game so if you could down them with a single head shot or even a single acid round it would be way too easy and not scary at all.

Hot Fuzz Mans Head GIF from Hotfuzz GIFs

https://tenor.com/embed.js

I love the game, I love the balancing and I love love love it when you get that perfect head shot and their head blows up haha.

The first thing that struck me though in the demo that got me so hyped was the facial capture and the acting talent. It’s just so refreshing to have this game look so good and be done so well. It’s almost a draw back in some ways because it’s such a lonely game at times you want more character interaction and more human elements. It’s a game split in half so a lot of the time you feel like it can be too short and we don’t get enough character drama.
I know these games aren’t really known for that but I think it really needed that with the step up in visuals and animation. I feel like they really did try to do that but were limited by the source material.
Because if you really think about it resy games aren’t that complicated (aside from the convoluted plots). Shoot zombies, solve puzzles, survive.

The only real criticism I have of the game is it left me wanting more. I finished the game and I immediately wanted more. And I hear there’s going to be free dlc although I’ll believe that when I see it since I had to shell out £2.50 to get the original soundtrack, which was so fucking worth it haha.

It made me wish Resident Evil 2 was a bigger better game to work from. I wanted more, I loved the lab section and I wished it had been bigger and more expansive live the police station. The sewer section is the best sewer section in a game ever. Dark, dank, disgusting and foreboding, it was great. It was like being in hell for me haha.

Another criticism I see is turning Mr X into a radial enemy. Because in the original he just appears for short section but in this when he appears he’s just there in the police station constantly looking for you and it’s pretty fucking terrifying and it adds an urgency into the game immediately and the relief when you finally slip him is great.

Would I recommend this game? Hell yes and I recommend playing it on hardcore, because that’s the way it was meant to be played. You have the original saving method using ink ribbons and your ammo is limited as hell and it feels intense. Standard was way too easy and you have so much ammo by the end of the game it’s a joke. So if you want the genuine resident evil experience play it on hardcore, otherwise the game just gets and you have like a million shotgun and pistol or grenades and you annihilate everything. Hardcore is how it’s supposed to be.

re2
I loved both the campaigns but my favourite was definitely Clare’s because I liked her weapon set better and playing as Sherri was a nice change of pace, whereas playing as Ada in Leon’s campaign was just annoying.

Clare just gets the best guns. With Leon you get his pistol which is ok and you can upgrade it but it’s not that accurate or powerful. Clare starts off with this cap gun revolver but later you find this beast of an automatic that has a laser sight and an extended mag. So it just shits on Leon’s pistol. More accurate, more powerful, better fire rate.
He gets a shotgun which is fun and looks great but for some reason it’s useless against lickers but decent against zombies. It takes like four headshots to killa licker. Clare’s grenade launcher kills them with like one shot. It’s not so good against zombies but it’s like an instant stagger against bosses.

Leon then gets a desert eagle which is a good magnum, probably the most powerful in the game and he can make ammo for it which Clare can’t do, she can’t craft magnum ammo.
But Clare gets an smg instead which is way better for bosses imo. Leon’s magnum packs a punch but so many of the bosses are about hitting critical points and the amount of damage is negligible and I found it’s way easier to bullseye those spots with a rapid fire weapon over a big desert eagle which is pretty accurate but you can still miss. The smg is almost always on point.

Also Clare gets a magnum as well so Clare actually gets an extra gun than Leon but she can’t craft ammo for it.
resident-evil-2-5

Their final weapons are a toss up because she gets this electric gun which is pretty good and he gets a flamethrower which is really useful against the enemies later in the game but for some reason it’s useless against bosses. So again I have to side with Clare’s weapons, they’re just more useful and versatile and fun.
Although that shotgun is fun, it just didn’t pack that much of a punch.

Sorry got a bit spurgy about the guns there haha. But yeah, really enjoyed it, in fact I want to get back on it now haha. I really hope they remake resident evil 3 next, that would be amazing considering how well they did with this game.

Overall I think the game is limited by the original, I think a lot of people me included are suffering from nostalgia goggles and the original game really doesn’t give you that much to work with. It wasn’t as good as we remember. The story is light and kind of dumb, characters are eh. And the game just feels wanting for a modern title. But regardless I enjoyed it, it was a fun romp. But is it the best thing since sliced bread, not really, overall it was good, not amazing, but worth a buy for sure. Compared to all the shit that’s come out recently it really is a cut above.

Yeah go out and buy it.

See you…

 

0

Diana in the Dark Chapter 7 ‘Ding dong dead’ (remurdered edition)

I’m back! 

Sorta

Kinda

Not really?

I am happy to report Diana for all intents and purposes is as done as I’ll probably ever get it, despite wanting a near infinite number of proof read from myself and any passerby on the street. As long as I can quiet that perfectionist voice in my head, it is done.

Now that that colossal time and energy suck and… Diana is done with (ha I made a joke about being single), I can move onto greater things which don’t include finishing Loverman. Yeah I might finish that but I dunno, it kind of feels like a slog. Like I have to be in a Lovecrafty mood really and I can’t seem to get there right now, but I will finish it eventually, sooner than later.

But I’ll tell you what I have been in the mood for, not writing so much as screen writing, that’s right, your boi is writing a pilot for a tv show, why? Because it was already a book and I want to see a tv show of it because, well ok there was already a tv show but it was in the 90’s I think and it was awful. Well it was good, but it kind of butchered both the movie and the book and was made of the shittest cg you’ve ever seen.

Now I’m realising I haven’t actually mentioned what it is, it’s Starship Troopers, I’m planning a tv show pilot for Starship Troopers.

I just liked the book, not as much as the films or tv show but I think a tv is really what it needs to really flesh out the world it takes place in and although I would to not write the show and just enjoy it as a member of the audience. The current state of television guarantees that it would suck the sweat off a deadman’s balls.

The reason being that it’s too tempting as a platform for satire and political narrative pushing. We wouldn’t get past the first episode without some joke about Trump’s hair and orange skin, it would be a fucking disaster.

Only someone like me could do it justice, not because I’m a genius writer, well, but because I actually fucking respect the source material enough to not just to bastardise and attempt to use it to push my own brand of brainwashing. Which funnily enough Paul Verhoeven tried and failed to do in his movie version of the book.

Because believe it or not the book is completely played straight, it’s not satire. Heindlin was an ex navy right wing guy growing up in a more conservative time and he saw a future where liberalism would tear society apart and thus envisioned a future military fascist government piecing it back together again.
Verhoeven, a great director, Robocop is probably one of my all time favourite films, tried to satirise the book and add his own brand of humor to try and make fun of and demonize the fascism glorified in the book but he just sort of made it look cool and fun haha.

I kinda wanna do both honestly. I want it to be played straight but you can’t sidestep how fun Verhoeven made it in the movie. Surely some ideal balance can be struck where you can satirise the necessary evil of fascism and glorify the order and stability of it at the same time. I want to have satire but not at the expense of the story or the fun.

That’s my number one goal always, entertainment. I don’t write to preach to people or ‘educate’ them. I write to entertain myself and others and that’s all. I think when you focus too much on a particular ideology or message you lose the ability to have fun and tell an interesting story. 
I have nothing against having a good moral message in a story though if say it’s a show for kids but I don’t write for kids and adults don’t need to be preached to about morality or whatever hair brained social justice cause is popular in the zeitgeist in any particular moment.

So what have I been up to apart from not doing that, I haven’t even started writing, still anally planning haha. Erm lots of exercising as usual, my chest is on fire as we speak, gonna need new weights soon, getting to yuge for these ones haha. Relationships janky as fuck as usual but I’m not letting it get me down I’m really hopeful about getting an agent for Diana and if I don’t get one now I think I’ll try again in September with a better cover letter. And in the mean time work on my pilot and maybe get a sequel to Diana in the works which I’ve been planning for awhile but haven’t had the guts to clinch on. 

I’m kinda just waiting for the wind to strike me on that one, I don’t want to start it too soon, I want to savour and start it at a time when I can really enjoy it.

Oh also had a great time recently playing the Resident Evil 2 remake which I might do a review for tomorrow. It’s a lot of fun unsurprisingly. Some people are shitting on it a little bit but all in all it was a lark. So stay tuned for that, I think I’m gonna go back to planning my pilot and waiting for my main facebook account to be unbanned so I get back to spamming and shitposting haha.

See you…

 

–

Hot, sticky, red.

Its blood isn’t it?

Blood?

All over the floor.

It smells, I don’t like it.

Why is it here?

All over the carpet.

Where am I?

Why did you do that?

A big mess.

 

Blood all over the floor, spreading and getting thicker, like a dark red plastic, coating everything. A child’s room, bunk beds, bright colors. Where was this place?

Something rose from the blood, the sea of thick hot red plastic. A head coated in it like it was molten wax. Then another and another, bobbing like croutons in a rich tomato soup.

My vision was a tiny cone surrounded by blackness, small hands, a child’s hands reached for the heads, turning them over one by one.

I recognized their faces but couldn’t place them. Buried somewhere, a tinkling, a mocking laugh and the slamming of a heavy door and they were gone.

A feeling of loss, of loss of loss. Losing something that never existed, something I never had taken before I even knew it was there.

The little hand reached for mine, and it told me to come and play. I wanted to. I wanted to so badly, but I couldn’t. Something held me back.

I woke up again, a cold sweat; it was dark. I maybe got two hours sleep on Paul’s couch.

We could’ve used the bed, of course, but I couldn’t drag him much farther than the living room. He was a big boy.

Once I’d gotten him down, I’d wanted to stay with him and make sure he was okay.

Some motherly instinct kicking in, Diana?

Channeling a little Florence Nightingale perhaps?

Hardly, a good mask needed a touch up now and then, like anything else. Soon enough, after lying next to him, the sandman had snuck up on me and wrapped a ten pound fishing cord of sleep around my neck.

I’d fallen asleep right on top of him. Now I awoke again in the wee hours of the morning, he was gone.

Paul came in after a minute or two with a glass of water and sat back on the couch like he didn’t even notice I was there. He cleared his throat and took in a big deep breath, then proceeded to take sips from his water. He yawned and hunched forward in only a pair of stripy boxer shorts. The glass perched in between his large smooth hands. “Oh, you’re up,” he said. “I was just getting some water; I didn’t want to disturb you.” A little sad smile crossed his face.

“I can see that.” I said.

“Here.” Paul handed me the glass.

I took a big gulp from it. I suddenly felt utterly bottomless, and wanted to down the entire thing. It felt like we’d never talk about what’d happened, and that was kind of how I wanted it. Pretend it’d never happened. Just let it slip off the cuff, a very interesting dream soon forgotten.

“What happened back there?” he asked, rather ineloquently breaking my fantasy of a night lost. Murderous pirate ships passing in the night.

“You don’t remember,” I stalled.

He cleared his throat and looked off into the corner of the ceiling above the TV.  “Um… I remember drinking a little and then—” He shrugged his large round shoulders. “I dunno, I guess someone jumped me and everything went black.” Paul sucked in some air from his teeth and went back to nursing the now half-empty glass. “I woke up here, and my gun was gone.” He sighed like he was talking about a botched boy scouts camping trip as he stared into the glass. “My dad is gonna kill me”.

“Doesn’t he have lots of guns? I’m sure he won’t notice one missing.” I said.

Diana deft subject dodger.

“You don’t know my dad.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’ll have to tell him it was stolen.” He scrunched his shoulders up around his ears as some sort of stretch.

I heard a cracking sound and found myself staring at the muscles around his chest and back. He was shirtless, and I had to admit I had some fascination with the play of his muscles.

“Yeah you can’t tell him you lost it in a fight in a drug dealer’s house.”

Shut up, Diana.

Paul let out a self-deprecating sound, halfway between a laugh and a cough as he choked on some water.

We gave up on sleep after that and had a quick shower—separately. I had to change back into my previous set of clothes. Which was a little disgusting for dainty Diana, but I couldn’t exactly skip school the day after another massacre. Even if the whole finding body parts at school thing could’ve bought me a little credit.

A few short hours later, I stood in front of my locker again, staring at the space left by the volleyball. I inhaled and sighed, taking in all the smells of the pretty people passing me. Their talking all mixed together into an interminable cacophony of inane chirping, or tweeting. The occasional chortle and hushed whisper.

Did I hear my name?

–

If you want to read the rest of the final version you’ll have to wait until it’s out or find the horrible raw version on inkitt haha.

0

I know its over

I know its over

It never really began

But in my heart it…

I can feel the soil

See the sea wants to take me

Knife wants to slit me.

Loud loutish lover

Sad veiled bride, please be happy

Handsome groom give her…

0

3 ring samurai part 2 Chapter 8 ‘Y’all been warned’

Hey there all you lovely people in my head.
It’s your boi coming to whine about how shitty this year is so far and drop weird stories from the tattered recesses of my damaged brain. This one is about clown samurais or some shit, I dunno.
So yeah 2019, so far it can suck a dog’s dick. I’m sure my ex if she’s reading this is rubbing her hands together with glee because I broke up with the girl I just started dating like a month ago. It was going pretty well but I got upset about her never having enough time for me and instead making time to go drinking with her friends or weirdly hang out with her exe’s family, which is just, I mean wtf? Ok. I guess I shouldn’t feel weird about a girl I’m dating hanging out with the family of the guy she was previously dating.
So I raised this, what I thought was a minor issue and she didn’t respond very well, just sort of brushed off my concerns so I gave her some space and myself some time to cool off and I think things are ok. We’ll make up, we’ll work through it and she comes over and things go pretty well, we talk and then she leaves and a day or two later she’s just like “This isn’t right”.
No real explaination what that means, I asked but everything she said just sounded really unsatisfying and wishy washy to me. Like she’s pissing me off and then turning around saying ‘this is why’ like punching someone in the face and saying ‘wow bro chill, I just punched you in the face’.
I dunno, I’m just talking shit I guess, I’m not so much sad as just disappointed because I really saw potential there and she said she did too until just recently, over this minor spat.
My ex if she’s reading this which she probably is is probably laughing and saying to herself I tried to have everything and lost it, but not really I just tried to have one thing that was mine and I never get my own way for some reason, I can’t just have one thing without it blowing up in my face.
I lost so much over this, a whole person, a whole future and it just seems like so much of a waste compared to what it could have been. It’s over before it even began.
But moreover, I can’t blame her for what happened with my ex before her and her unwillingness to let me see my daughter, because that’s my fault, but I can’t help thinking if I’d never spoken to her I’d still be able to see her now.
Losing that was heart breaking and the only thing that made it better was imagining a future with someone that wouldn’t do that to me, that wouldn’t be so callous and cruel and take away something so important. And now that’s gone, before it even really began and I don’t understand why.

But I suppose it’s to be expected. 

Good news is I have lots of work with Diana to keep me busy, I’ve started sending her out to agents now, already got my first rejection letter, so that’s great haha. But that’s nothing, I mean it was within a day, you don’t want an agent that gets back to you in a day anyway, means they have too much free time on their hands, six weeks is the sweet spot.
I am preparing my anus for many more haha.
More bad news is that I haven’t had time to write and my blogs are gonna be few and far between until I start up again sometime this month or the next when the stuff with Diana is fully done and dusted then I can just get back to writing and wait for the buttpain to roll in haha.
But hey, now that I’m single I have plenty of free time to do it, so there’s that.
Also got banned on facebook again on my main haha, first of 2019. But my troll account is still up haha. I hope I get another ban soon so I can do something fucking constructive and stop just shitposting haha.
Anyway here is the final chapter of this part 2 of 3 ring, hopefully you enjoy it, I really like writing these. They’re just fun and silly and kinda cool, lots of potential I think. I was thinking I might try and find some weird novella mag that might publish them, we’ll see.
See you…
–
“W-what is this?” The girl cried.
 
“It’s a robbery what does it look like” The robber said.
 
“Well it could be more” The other robber smirked suggestively.
 
“W-what does that mean?” She squealed.
 
“What’s up with her face?” The third robber said.
 
“Yeah what’s up with that?” The first once asked.
 
“Maybe she’s one of those ladyboys we keep hearing about” The second smirked.
 
“Ya think she’s got a wiener?” Number three asked.
 
“Maybe we should check first.” Number one added.
 
“Well I never done it with a ladyboy before, won’t that make me a homo” Number three said.
 
“Eww gross get away from me” Margherite squealed as she kicked at her robbers.
 
Ten minutes earlier maybe, I dunno who cares?
 
Margherite had been deep in thought as she traced the path the caravan had previously taken. She was hoping to catch the scent of either Pookie or Coldslaw, sure that one would inevitably lead her to the other. It was early when she’d set off hoping to sneak out before the rest of the circus was awake as circus folk almost always slept in, because why the hell not. They also didn’t brush their teeth twice a day or floss between meals or observe any sort of bedtime at all. In that respect they were kind of like land pirates except not.
 
Margherite on the other hand loved getting up early and brushing her teeth and flossing but that was just her nature. Don’t ask me where you get floss from in a post apocalyptic diesel punk future. Maybe they found a whole train car full of the stuff how should I know??
 
Anyway so she’d been walking along her merry way taking what she thought was a shortcut. Which is weird because she didn’t exactly know where she was going having never really set foot in the ‘real world’ before. So she cut through a little path in some high grass in the forbidden irradiated plains where some things still grow, weeds mostly. It was then she heard a woman screaming and struggling.
 
Naturally being curious and good natured, Margherite went to investigate the source of the noise. Stumbling on three would be bandits getting in a situation that was deeply pornographic with a mother and young daughter. The strange appearance of Margherite was enough to distract the bandits. Allowing the innocent people to escape putting her in the position she is right now. Which is curled up in the long grass with three leering wastrels looming over her.
 
“He he he, well lets see what she’s got in those shorts.” The first bandit with a big nose said.
 
“I’m warning you, if you touch me-“
 
“Yeah what are you gonna do little girl?” The second bandit said with his twisted lipped smile.
 
“Not me” Margherite yelled. “Lord Bunnynaga”
 
“Lord what?” The third bandit with the bad haircut said.
 
“What’s she talking about?” Big nose said.
 
“Yeah there’s no one else here” Twisted lips added.
 
“There is too he’s right over there on that bench eating rice.”
 
“Huh?” The bandits collectively dimly looked over at a heaping pile of nothing off in the distance, a weird mutant bird flew over and made an annoying sound.
 
They turned to see Margherite running away.
 
“Hey!” Bad haircut shouted.
 
“She tricked us” Twisted lips shouted.
 
“Get her!” Big nose cried.
 
The three men quickly caught up with her as she made little progress in the long grass in her ridiculous clown shoes.
 
They grabbed her by the shoulders and tossed her to the ground. One that had been hitching up his trousers tussled with his belt buckle and let his trousers hit the ground.
 
A rabbit ear twitched at the sound.
 
“I’m warning you, if you-“
 
“If we what?” Twisted lips smirked.
 
“He’ll slay you all! Cut you down like ducks!”
 
“Slay? What is this text based rpg?” Bad haircut laughed.
 
“Like ducks?” Big nose mused.
 
“Look missy we aim to get out rocks off and do unvirtuous things to ladies steal stuff and generally be evil doers and that’s what we’re gonna do.” Bad hair stated.
 
The second rabbit ear twitched and Lord Bunnynaga swallowed down the last of his rice bowl with a large gulp. He wiped the crumbs from his cute fuzzy bunny mouth and put the bowl and chopsticks down neatly next to his copy of samurai playbunny. He rose from the bench calmly and straightened his robe and sword belt.
 
“This is your last warning, he’s a cold blooded bunny killer!” Margherite yelled.
 
“What does that even mean?” Big nose asked?
 
“This bitch is crazy!” Twisted lips added.
 
“What the hell is that?” Bad hair said.
 
“What the hell is wha-?” Big nose said.
 
“Hng”
 
“Gah”
 
The three bandits turned in stunned silence and before they could utter a word of protest with one clean strike from his noble katana. Lord Bunnynaga had separated all of their heads from their bodies. But in so doing the cut was so perfect and precise so as to leave one flap of skin remaining. Thus stopping the heads from comically flying off and spraying Margherite with blood. Instead their heads simply drooped to the side as they fell with very little blood.
 
Margherite got up as the Bunny samurai was sheathing his katana and dusted herself off.
 
“What took you so long?”
 
“Being a figment of your imagination I am bound by a strict code.” Lord Floppy Ears said.
 
“Yeah I know, and you’re so damn cute” Margherite smiled and hugged the bunny samurai kissing his fluffy cheeks and whiskers. He resisted dutifully staying stoic and reserved.
 
“My lady, why did you leave the safety of the circus?”
 
“I have to know why he did it Lord Floppy ears”
 
“You’re sure it was him then?” The imaginary bunny asked.
 
“No- yes, I don’t know but I know if I look into his eyes it’ll all make sense somehow. I know him, he wouldn’t do such a thing, not without a good reason.” She thought about it for a second. “And if Coldslaw kills him I’ll never know.”
 
–
 
Pookie leapt from the tub wrapped a towel around his waist. He grabbed his sword which was resting against the tub and charged almost butt ass naked into the night.
 
Outside the bath house tent it was black as pitch. The only light coming from a series of dead and dying streetlights probably centuries old along what used to be a highway. The road itself long since eroded.
 
A man stepped out from under one of the streetlamps, washed out by the bright light his features hidden in shadow but Pookie didn’t take his eyes off of him.
 
Coldslaw drew both his swords, long elaborately curved Katanas with ‘d’ guard hilts like long butterfly knives.
 
“Are you ready?”
 
–
If you like this, check out the rest of the chapter over on inkitt at Y’all been warned
0

Last night I dreamt somebody loved me…

Last night I dreamt that…

Just another false alarm

There’s no hope, no harm.

Last night I felt some…

Someone’s real arms around me.

Just a false alarm

So tell me how long…

This story is old I know

Before the last one?

0

I wont share you

I wont share you, no

The drive and the dream inside

But this is my time.

I want the freedom

Oh, life tends to come and go

As long as you know.

I’ll see you somewhere

I’ll see you sometime, darling

But I wont share you.

0

Cur chapter 15 “Angel Blood”

Ok so not gonna lie, probably the shittiest start to a new year ever.
I worked on new years eve and didn’t get to spend either christmas or new years with the person that supposedly is madly in love with me.
Oh but then of course she made it up to me by giving me another bug that was going around which was ten times worse than the bug I previously had in the space of a month.
Then my ex instead of letting me skype with the only person that truly matters to me on this earth on her birthday or christmas called the cops on me over an email. I almost spent the night in jail over an email.
So yeah, really feeling 2019 so far, at least it can’t get much worse, but I’ve been surprised before.
Ok so my life being a total shitshow is no big reveal here but I am happy to reveal one of the better chapters in terms of action mostly, I reread and it’s not as great as I am remember more mythology captured in a comic but it’s fun. And if your balls don’t swell during the call out section you have no balls to speak of metaphorically or otherwise haha.
Anyway start of a new year, optimism, all that.
See you…
–
 
Three days and nights the Firbolg and Tuatha De’ met on the field of battle at Moyturra. And each day despite the mental state and lack of sleep of the Firbolg it ended in defeat after crushing defeat for the Tuatha De’. Their weapons were light and beautiful but could not compete with the savagery of the men of the soil. Even exhausted as they were they fought with the brutality they’d known all their lives and the mighty weapons they’d crafted. The Tuathe were defeated as if the earth itself rose up and swallowed them.
 
“We can’t keep this up much longer” The druid Caserd croaked. “Can’t you see, the losses are too great.” He whispered harshly in the dim light of the high king’s yurt.
 
“We’re victorious” The high king said as he rapped his knuckles against the hard arm rest of his chair.
 
“I don’t like it, the spirits don’t like it, there’s something wrong. Each day we decimate them but their numbers don’t decrease. We vanquish our foes and they come back each day renewed, these are not ordinary men my king.”
 
“So I must make a truce with these usurpers, give them half of all we’ve built to avoid more death? This land is built on blood, this soil is damp with it.” Eochid hissed.
 
“That’s why they want it, there’s dark magic at work here I’m sure of it” Caserd whispered.
 
“My king” A guard shouted from beyond the yurt.
 
“What is it?”
 
“There’s an old goat herder who says he has news of the Tuatha de’ invasion, he says it’s important.”
 
“A goat herder?” Eoichid sighed tilting his head towards Caserd.
 
“What harm could there be?” The druid shrugged.
 
“I’ll hear your goat herder.” He said waving his large hand.
 
A moment passed and a slow shuffling could be heard outside of the tent. An elderly man entered draped head to toe in a long lambs wool cloak of grey and white. His beard shared the same color and was so long he threw it over his shoulder.
 
The man was very old and his movements were slow and measured. His face wrinkled with sagging jowl but not lacking in color. And his eyes retained a spark of youthful mirth as he smiled deferentially at the king attempting to bow his already bent back. Resting on a gnarled shalagh cane.
 
“Greetings high king, I be Fint-“
 
“There’s no need for formal introductions goods sir, tell me of your misadventures.”
 
“Sir what I have to say may shock you.”
 
“Well there’s no point waiting on ceremony.”
 
“The other day I was taking my goats out to the hill to pluck the crags of weeds and grass there. They like it up high ya see, climbing up there, the grass must taste better near those old stones. The portal stones they’re called.”
 
Eoichid watched wearily the old man through his fingers as he rested his head in his hand.
 
The old man licked his lips and looked for some signal for him to go on and when none came he went on anyway. “Well while I was up there wouldn’t ya know I couldn’t see into their camp or nothing. They did a good job placing it out of sight but I did see- it was after the battle.”
 
“You watched the battle?”
 
“Oh no sir, I’ve seen enough blood in my time.” The old man gave a knowing smirk. “No I saw what was after when they was picking up their dead, not one left there to rot. They gathered them all up and I thought it was to bury them, you know. Mightn’t it be their custom to bury them on the day of death I thought, but no.”
 
The old man became contemplative, his eyes narrowing and brows creasing into too many folds to count as he scratched his gristled chin. “There was this funny lookin’ fella with a big nose and pointy ears and glasses on.” The old man gesticulated all the man’s features one by one. “And he was ordering the men that was still living to take the bodies of the dead and dying. And to put them in the spring that runs off the Loch Arbhach, great for fishing.”
 
Again he paused and looked for some signal to continue which didn’t come. “Anyway they put them bodies in the spring and the long nose fella he sprinkles some magic dust in the water.” With his wizened hand he emulated the motion of sprinkling the dust. “I dunno. He says some magic words spins around and they walked alive again.” He pointed with his cane and took to a harsh whisper “I swear by the gods there wasn’t a scratch on them, they just walked out like they were taking a dip.”
 
“It’s as I feared.” Caserd sighed.
 
“You believe this?” Eoichid asked with a cool simmering rage.
 
“There magic surpasses our own greatly and they’ve tricked us.” Caserd deflated, bowing his head.
 
Eoichid bit the inside of his cheek and said nothing.
 
Caserd looked at his high king with lidded eyes and raised his hands emphatically. “Don’t you see, they’ve been wearing us down, they’ve been beating us in victory, tiring our men, whittling them off slowly. Everyday our losses are massive and they lose none, this can’t go on, we’ve already lost too much, what will you do high king?”
 
Eoichid rose from his seat stoic. With a savage cutting energy he crossed the room and clutched his Javelin in his two strong hands squeezing it. Listening to the noise of it creaking in his monstrous leathery hands.
 
“I will go.”
 
–
 
The men of the bag lined up on Moytura outside the Tuatha de’ stronghold. In front of their palisade wall they beat their shields in time casting a deadly rhythm. The sound; like bone on bone clattering, the impeding march of skeletons claiming flesh as their own.
 
“HERE I AM! THE BLOOD OF KINGS RUNS THROUGH MY VEINS! NO MAN CAN BE MY EQUAL!” Eochid bellowed at the top of his lungs, his high shield at his side and his javelin at his other. His armor consisting of hardened plates of black leather and bleached bone. His helmet fashioned from a fearsome rams skull, it’s horns protruding upward. “NUADA, I AM THE MASTER OF YOUR DESTINY!”
 
The beating of the shields came again like a wave of crashing thunder building to a cacophony.
 
Eoichid bellowed gripping his javelin and shield tightly in his balled fists.“GIVE ME YOUR KING, LET ME SQUEEZE HIM IN MY HANDS!” 
–
Angel blood
If you want to the rest of this epic chapter head on over to inkitt;
0

Loverman chapter ‘The big dream’

So this is me attempting to get back into a normal routine and sort of failing miserably because that routine also includes lifting heavier weights than the balls of Jehovah. So I’m trying to fix my sleep schedule and also sleeping right through every alarm I set as my body tries to heal itself.

Anyway I hope you all had a great christmas and a snappy new years, both mine kind of sucked. Christmas just felt sort of flat and I didn’t feel christmassy at all, I worked on new years so that was a boner killer,

In other news found an awesome new videogame, the mad max game is surprisingly bad ass. Also my new relationship is sort of working out in a weird way. I paired her with videogames in case she reads this just to annoy her.

I don’t want to really go into detail because I’m conflicted I should feel terrible and I sort of do, it’s like I want to be happy while also being stomped on by life in the worst ways imaginable. I’m not saying that for sympathy, I don’t give a shit, it’s just a weird feeling approaching her birthday and feeling so lost and miserable and heartbroken as I’m completely shut out while also being at the start of could be a really happy healthy relationship. One that could actually work and isn’t just setting me up for supreme heart ache down the road.

Someone less of an idiot could maybe wash his hands of the whole thing and forget and just start over but I can’t.

Yeah I kinda wanted to start the new year off light and already fucked that up but hopefully my schedule will open up a bit this month and I can finally get Diana done and start sending her out into the world to get mercilessly torn asunder. I know I’ve been kind of procrastinating and putting it off for the longest time, just like I’ve been putting going to the next weight level in my training. But hey I did that and now I feel like a tenderised piece of meat haha. 

Maybe I can make good on that other stuff too and get a new job. But what the fuck am I even going to spend the money now that she won’t let me see her?

Hmm.

See you…

–

My mother’s old Chrysler pitched and yawed and creaked to a stop with that horrible ratcheting sound of the gear box unto imminent death. Which of course Ericcson not being familiar with it didn’t know exactly the right way it like to be touched. So as not to eviscerate the already ramshackle clutch. Held together with tape and prayers.

 

Still these concerns were beyond me, my main worries were now worms nesting in my ear and being unable scratch my nose. Not being able to turn the pages of the book or change the channel on the television was of particular concern. Forever doomed to just watch whatever anyone else wanted to watch.

 

The girl’s directions weren’t too bad. Although she might have recommended we bring a machete for our trip as the road leading to the house was intensely overgrown. So much so as to almost disappear into the trees.

 

The pornographer Lukas lived in a fairly large new England country house out on the east side near the river. Just a guess really, due to the sound of running water, that being the only sound I heard, no birds chirped nor foxes howled.

 

The house itself was in utter disrepair and looked most certainly abandoned. The face of it was once a white wood, the paint rotted and chipped and discoloured. All but one of the upstairs windows were broken, most likely by bored local children. The roof was tiled in grey slate with a red brick chimney which had collapsed into the attic. The front door was green and hanging off its hinges. A white picket fence surrounded the square building and traced the outline of a truly unruly lawn. Which had swallowed a very rusty looking push mower, most certainly its first victim.

 

Undettered by this Ericcson got out of the car slamming the door of the Chrysler as if to announce himself. He paused only momentarily to absorb a most ominious atmosphere. The building exsoothed a singular loneliness and gave off an almost abstract feeling of revulsion.

 

The autumnal trees behind the house were such deep oranges they almost looked like a mat red canvas against the house. They swayed lightly in the breeze and noiseless things that must have been birds leapt out of them and into flight.

 

Ericcson opened the fence gently and approached the door meaning to knock on the great green edifice. But instead he tried the knob and it was unlocked.

 

We entered, I of course hanging at his side in my bag.

 

But I could see out of a number of holes made in the bag for that direct purpose.

 

Now, being a disembodied head you’d think not much could shock me. But upon entering the house, expecting more filth and degradation as the outside advertised. We were instead greeted with a warming glow.

 

I wondered for a moment if Ericcon and I were seeing the same thing. From the outside it seemed like an abandoned run down shack and from the inside it was a living home of some humble opulence.

 

I could hear the lapping and crackling of a warm fire and the soothing tock of a grandfather clock

 

Ericcson it would seem was entranced and I dared not to wake him as he made an odd noise as if reacting to some unheard tone in a dream.

 

He walked slowly and cautiously towards the noise of the fire into the living, decorated as if a scene in a holiday greeting card. Real logs burned in the fire and wreathes hung over it and on the mantel there were pictures of a happy family although their faces I could not make out.

 

Ericcson walked bow legged and collapsed into an easy chair in the corner allowing me to slump down next to him on the carpeted floor.

 

I didn’t even notice the other person in the room until I heard the chinking of the ice in his drink.

 

“So nice of you to pay me a visit” The man said as he tipped the glass towards Ericcson.

 

He was an odd duck, dressed almost like a hipster mister Rogers; a brown sweater over a plaid shirt. His sleeves rolled up revealing elaborate tattoos, his face too was marked with scarification and tunnels in his ears. His eyes were a disturbing unnatural blue, altered somehow with pigment.

 

“I’ve come to kill you” Ericcson said flatly as if talking in his sleep.

 

“Is that right?” The man smiled and looked into his drink. “Lydia – the girl in the store called me right after you did, this is the only address she knows so I knew you’d come here.”

 

“It’s a trap then?”

 

“Not really, more like a check-up” He motioned down with his head “How do you like your drink?”

 

Ericcson looked down at his hand and saw a whiskey glass there and he jumped as if he suddenly felt like he was falling and dropped it on the floor. The tumbler landed with a dull thud and rolled towards the fire place.

 

“Too bad, that was good stuff” He took a sip of his drink and straightened in his wingback chair. “Well enough with the niceties, I’m sure Niall didn’t impress you too much but you’ll find us a little more prepared.”

 

“You’re Lukas?”

 

“I already told you that” He said as he put his drink down with a clunk on a glass coffee table and then leaned back with his hands across his lap. His hands too were covered in obscure tattoos that looked like child’s drawings and he had odd jewellery on his thumbs. “But enough about that, we’re here for you Zane.

 

The doorbell rang.

 

“Oh that must be our guests”

 

“Guests?” Ericcson said sadly.

–

Check out the rest of the chapter right here on inkitt The big dream

 

0

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑