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GS2 Chapter 13 ‘Le Samourai’

Hola senors and senorita, what’s a lack of accent marks between pals huh?

Facebook ban lifted and I’m ready to spam like a motherfucker haha.

Back to that crazy trolling shit I do until I get banned for another fucking misplaced spongebob meme, oh holy jeebus save us from the offensive spongebob maymays.

Ok so down to business, so what have I been up to, not much, case close. Err been trying to write this lovecraft story but the plan I have was written by my past self and it’s not as structured as my present self would like so I’m spending more time just staring at it than I am actually writing which is good or bad depending on who you ask. I kinda feel like I’m in a rut again or I’m just so confident about Diana being a success I just can’t focus on anything else.

I so want that to be it I can’t help putting all my eggs in that basket even though I know I shouldn’t. I just feel like the time is right, I need this to be it, I need it to be now because of where I want my life to be heading. I need the success and I need the money to be with the people that mean the most to me, to be where I belong and not just have to keep visiting like a stranger.

But all I’m going to be doing today is doing a thorough read through and then cleaning up The One That Came Back to give away to you wonderful people that put up with my bullshit. I just want to get it in the best state possible, so I’m going through it with a fine tooth comb for the edits and then I’m going to probably go over it again just to be sure and then I’ll send it out I think at the beginning of next month.

I have nothing more to say, peace out my dudes.

As always you can check out the other chapters of this story and all my others on inkitt.

GS2

~

“Omfg, I’m so sick of waiting around here!” Kat said to no one in particular pacing up and down the storefront.

“We’ve been here like an hour”. Roch said, perched on the end of a booth seat in her own little corner of the store.

“Well it feels like forever”

“Why don’t you do like Nita and eat some fucking donuts and sit down.”

“I-don’t-do-carbs” Kat said getting in Roch’s face again. Roch just seethed quietly and turned her head.

“Do we really have to wait here three days?”

“Well we wouldn’t have to if Nita didn’t kick up that stink with that asshole in the army navy store.” Roch said.

“It’s not my fault I’m gorgeous, I didn’t asked to be harassed, I didn’t ask to be born a woman.” She called from the kitchen.

Juanita was in back again eating frozen donuts rather loudly in earshot.

“We’ve got no choice, if we go out there with nothing but our pussies in our hands we’ll be torn apart by flesh hungry monsters”. Roch said.

Kat went to the window and peered out through the closed venetian blinds and said “I don’t see anything”.

“That’s because it’s not set to start until tomorrow morning around sunrise.”

“This is so fucking stupid.” She said as she snapped her fingers away from the venetian blinds and started to pace again. “Only a fucking old white guy could come up with some fucked up shit like this!”

“Yeah that’s why we’re here, trying to stop it, right?” Roch said.

She frowned, “Y’all white people wanna kill eachother with the fucking living dead why do I care?”

“Then why are you here?” Roch said.

“I’m starting to wonder that myself” She said as she started to pace up and down again.

“Can you like stop fucking pacing, you’re driving me crazy!” Roch shouted.

“Don’t you micro-agress against me” Juanita said from the kitchen.

“What?”

“You can’t say ‘crazy’, you know I’ve got ptsd, it’s ableist to stigmatise the mentally ill.”

“She has ptsd?” Kat whispered.

Roch rolled her eyes and said “From people calling her fat on twitter”.

“Have you been to a doctor?” Kat called out.

“I’m self diagnosed, I don’t need a doctor to tell me I have ptsd, I know my own body better than any doctor.”

“O-k then.”

Jaclyn was half asleep leaning on restaurant table in front of her laptop. Sliding off from time to time and waking herself up and then going back to sleep again.

Her laptop was open and another call came through marked as ‘Urgent’. She wiped drool off her face and almost fell off her seat trying to answer the call.

She clicked it on and said “Hell-“ But was knocked right off by Juanita barrelling back into her seat.

“Hey Maccy sweety, what it do?”

“What?”

“Nevermind.”

The manlet with the hipster haircut, cleared his throat and said “I’ve got some urgent news non-gender conforming people like entities.” He cleared his throat and went on. “I’ve got some disturbing chatter from my guy on the inside.”

“What is it?” Jaclyn said trying to get in shot, quickly bounced out again by Juanita’s girth.

He made that sucking tutting noise for effect and said “I think they’re onto us.”

“What do you mean, are they coming for us?”

“Eergh, in a way.” Ergh in a way.

“What are you talking about” Roch interrupted, leaning over Janita to be in shot of the webcam. Juanita put her chubby hand on her face and pushed her back after an uncomfortable struggle with lots of fishhooking.

“Yeah what dya mean, are we in danger?” She said as she flicked a quaff of green hair out of her fat face.

“No, well, maybe.” He made that sucking noise again as a full stop.

“Spit it out already” Kat said over Juanita’s shoulder.

“Well, they’ve upped their time frame.”

“What?”

“Well I didn’t think this was even a possibility.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“They’re making the drop in a couple of hours, the three day time frame is bust.” He made a noise in his throat and said “They’re rushing the end game.”

“How could they know we’re here, we were so careful to cover our signal. We bounced it around all over, the money we paid to get in was crowdfunded, there was no way it could be tied back to you.” Jaclyn shouted from off screen.

“I don’t know, my guy couldn’t tell me anymore.” He paused again and swallowed. “Ergh but it doesn’t change the plan, it just excelerates it by two days. They couldn’t have changed the drop locations on such short notice. You have all the intel you need, just be in the right place at the right time and you should be golden.”

“Hey you see, you don’t need to wait around anymore” Roch said in the background to Kat.

“Great and twisted abortions of science are gonna rain down from the sky.” She replied sarcastically.

“Since when were you anti-abortion” Roch responded.

“Fuck you.”

He coughed and Juanita was about to say something and he cut back “What about the prototype?”

“We shocked it and reattached the head but it didn’t seem to work, it probably needs more time.” Jaclyn elbow said meekly in the corner of the screen. Juanita scoffed and vacated her seat and Jaclyn sat back down in full view of the webcam.

“Have you tried turning it off and on again?” Mac said.

“Actually no” She said ditzilly.

“I can’t.” TJ’s voice rattled in his throat, a wet sucking feeling down deep in his esophagus.

She looked up at him, her eyes hollow, her skin looked cold and damp like a corpse and her face was tired. The look of an old nag with a broken hoof preying for a quick death from a merciful shot from a kindly gun.

She couldn’t talk anymore, her lips were frozen, her tongue growing fat in her mouth, her head spinning. She hung it forward like she couldn’t bear the weight of it anymore. Revealing to TJ; her kaishaku, a perfect strip of white flesh at the back of her neck. A smell hit TJ, that beautiful fresh earthy smell, now it smelled like a little damp got in, a little rot.

No, this had to be a dream, a dream within a dream. A sick fantasy from a tight fisted lonely jacker, Japanese love pillow fucker. This couldn’t be real, this couldn’t be her neck calling out for the flash of a naked blade. ‘Lift my burden TJ’, the neck said.

Seemingly an eternity had passed and Jimmy hated eternities so he wound up to bat shrieking “Fuck it! I’ll do it if your bitch ass aint man enou-“.

A lighting bolt hit the room, a white hot flash of cold steel making every ear ring. Jimmy stood frozen, a victim of a paparazzi bulb, the harsh gaze of a cameras eye, a deer in headlights. His eyes sewn together by the point of an elegant blade poking it’s nose between them.

The point of the blade close enough to pick the hairs off Jimmy’s eyebrows. TJ stood, tall, not looking in Jimmy’s direction, the long arm of the blade in his one hand, straight and tight and lean pointing right between Jimmy’s eyes.

“Ok, ok” Jimmy said as he backed off.

He took the sword in both hands and closed his eyes and when he did he could hear them. The things on the outside and the slow building flames like rushing waves of a hungry ocean.

He took a deep breath in and he tried to find her there, try to find her alive and well. A smile maybe, a laugh, something he could hold onto but there was nothing, just pure cool emptiness.

A little girl’s laugh floated on cooling corpses in a long hallway on the second floor of the cop shop.

A thin hand with dirty nails snatched a back up boot knife out of a kydex sheathe on one of the dead cops. Disappearing it up the sleeve of an old green army jacket like a magic trick. He padded the corpse down and found a spyderco edc folder, an old endura two possibly, full serrated edge. He pocketed it.

There was glass on the floor. But he already found a set of boots that fit since there was an ample selection of boots just lying around. Some filled with blood, others not.

Carpenter picked out a nice long shard of glass and wrapped shreds of a curtain around it to make a handle. Wrapping it around the shard and his own hand to make a tight reverse grip, feeling like he grew a ragged claw, a dirty serrated iceaxe.

“He went this way” The little girl whispered.

It was quieter now, a graveyard waiting quiet, like the eye of a tornado, chaos waiting for it’s turn in some cosmic jrpg. He rounded a corner and saw a heavy metal door open ajar. The word ‘Morgue’ written on the sign outside. It creaked open a little, being coy but he’d seen that shit before and the darkness coiled behind it could tell.

“I see you” He said.

A burst of white, the thing crashed through the heavy door launching at Carpenter like a quarterback with a firework covered in hot sauce up his ass. It was on him, numb jaws snapping behind a fabric mask. A giant white rabbit took Carpenter clear of his feet and was humping him feverishly with no bite, no claws, no teeth. All encased in soft cuddly fur, turning this mauling into little more than the exuberant greeting from a cuddly toy.

He smiled pushing its soft flailing limbs away from his face and burying the shard of glass deep in it’s big padded eye. Snapping it off a few inches in he felt scraping bone but no joy. He flipped it’s limp frame off of him.

He got to his feet and delivered a satisfying kick to its plush underbelly. The white rabbit moaned, almost human and started to crawl to the window at the end of the hall. Carpenter looked out the window, and back at the white rabbit as it limped down the hall.

“What, you lose your nerve?”

Fast fumbled padded steps, the rushing and scraping of hungry fur, before he knew it he was neck deep in the shit. They were all over him, a tucan’s soft beak pecking at him. Soft claws and paws padding him all over, plush jaws biting with no purchase. It was kind of funny, kind of disorientating, hard to believe even in some stoners wet dream. It took him a few seconds to even capture what was happening but by then it was too late, they were on him. A fat elephant, a muscular tiger, cartoon plush humanoid animals crushing him. Piling on top of him cutting off his air, his vision covered in fur, felt like he was drowning in it, buried in it. Six feet under and some god with a sick sense of humour was tossing shovels full of furbies on top of him.

It was hot, there was no air, just paws and huge cartoony eyes and fake multi-coloured hipster haircuts. A nazi werewolf trying to skull fuck him. His muscles slackening in sure disbelief, surrendering to the grave in pure irony. To die like this was too hilarious to turn down. His eyes rolling back in his head, lids getting heavier. The muscles in his ribs getting weak, lungs wanted to collapse, why not let them, give them a rest, they deserve it.

“Follow the white rabbit” Laura’s voice said.

A bolt of lighting shot through his muscles. The waking pistons of a train engine pounding hot and heavy. An opening in the fur calling him out, he saw that fucking white furry bastard at the end of the hall in front of the window.

Before he knew it, carried by angels wings and devils’s farts he was slipping the furry rainbow noose. Their grips had no nails, their jaws of death had no teeth, death’s scythe was a toy that couldn’t cut a microwaved banana. He was swimming through fur, slick with sweat and grease and blood, sucking it in. Slipping through a crack in space and time, lunging like a dog chasing a car at the white rabbit shape in front of him. A white hot headlight of a subway train car rushing at him, hearing only the blood in his ears rushing. Telling him to strike and to fly and to kill and to cut.

He lunged through that fucking rabbit both flying through that second story window. Glass popping out floating like little snowflakes, some song playing. A little Christmassy in the distance and he was gone like saint nick.

A snipping of a stem, a green rose falling softly on a concrete floor. TJ, the gardener frozen in a state of morbid elation, synapses firing all over his body. His blood rushing to all points charged, electrified, his heart pumping he was sure was audible to the whole room.

It wasn’t like he imagined it, her head flew off and rolled across the floor. Her body fell limp a little blood and a strange liquid leaking out of the hole in her neck.

The head kept rolling until it was stopped by a boot gently pressing down on her porcelain cheek.

The Frenchman closed the garage door behind him and said “Am I interrupting something?”

GS2 Chapter 12 ‘Liquid Swords’

Feeling kinda bleh today so gonna keep this short and bitter, just like me. Or how I like my coffee, I dunno, fuck it, you want wit go find some edgy mommy blogger.

I don’t really have any updates since my last blog, the problems of having them like a day apart, oh I did finish the first proofread of Gage so that is available to read in full raw on inkitt of which there is a link to below.

Gage

That’s pretty much it, just waiting on my now two editors to finish the work, but it looks like my new editor is about to lap my old editor, I really hate emailing people, or talking to people or texting people or looking at people *sigh*. Which is why I never leave the house although I now have the excuse that all the roads are snowed dead.

Now Gage is proofread, I think I’ll go back and finish that Lovecraft story I was writing and finish the plan for the sequel to the newly minted Deedee after Dark.

See you…

~

An aggravated swizel chair noise, the sound of expensive leather creasing under toned tightened butt cheeks. The sound of a zen garden water fountain and those clicky clacky things that go on your desk to help relieve stress, somehow.

 

A large flat screen tv on the wall showed aerial footage of a police station swarming with thousands of furries, distant fires burning.

 

“Woah woah, pause this, what the fuck am I look at here?”

 

“Sir that’s a live feed”.

 

Dan furrowed his brow looking up like a confused dog at his secretary Ms Palmer. A long straight women with angular features and uncommonly large breasts and dark hair. Hired for her angular intellect and the fact she resembled a living anime character. Complete with a set of frameless glasses and her dark hair tied up in a bun with those Asian pin things in them. A beauty mark like a full stop underneath a plump bottom limp lightly glazed with peach lipgloss.

 

“Huh?” He said narrowing his eyes.

 

“Erm, it can’t be paused.” She leaned forward, squeezing her breasts against a tablet she was hugging extenuating her words like she was talking to an idiot. “It’s happening right now sir.”

 

“… I know that!” He threw himself back into his high backed office chair sulking a little, wrinkling his expensive suit. “Get that bastard Evergreen on the phone now”. He said seething, his eyes half open.

 

His secretary unsheathed her tablet from her bosom almost popping her own bra off or breaking her back and started tapping away at it.

 

“On line one sir” She said calmly.

 

He leant forward and took a blue tooth headset off his desk and put it on his ear, just breathing into it.

 

On the other end Evergreen was in his darkened command centre in one of the hollowed out oil trucks lit only by the light of the monitors inside.

 

“What’s he saying?” Murray whispered.

 

“He isn’t saying anything” Evergreen said holding the phone away and covering it with his hand. He put the phone back to his ear and said “Sir-“.

 

“What the cowfucking Christ is going on?”

 

“Sir I-“

 

-“I turn away for two minutes to get a shiatzu and a happy ending from a thai sheboy. And when I come back the town I planned to dump a bucket of zombies on like a kid with one of those bucket water door pranks. You know the ones” He paused trying to decipher where that joke was supposed to land or if he even intended it as a joke. “This town not only already coincidentally has a zombie outbreak. But they’re all specifically furfags lead by a spoonbending liberachi lookalike. And on top of that there’s some fucking yahoo running around like John Wayne before the game’s even started. “ He paused to take in a breath

 

“Sir”

 

“And yes I saw the dykes with the giant tranny, they were pretty funny actually.” He had a think, lost his train of thought and came back. “Someone is fucking with us.”

 

“I think so” Evergreen said flatly.

 

“Hmm”

 

“KGB wolf, CIA jackal, take your pick, on the other hand it could be ‘personal’.”

 

“Personal? But everyone loves me” Dan said with no hint of credulity, not even a trace. Zero credulity found. He laughed “Ok then, I know what has to be done” He said grinning so Evergreen could feel it through the phoneline.

 

A drawn out silence.

 

“Your orders sir?”

 

“Everything”

 

“Come again sir?”

 

“EVVVVERRRREEEERRRYTHINGGGGG!!!” He screamed down the headset, veins popping out of his neck, spit flying over his tasteful desk. “I WANT THAT TOWN WIPED OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH! SEND EVERY FUCKING THING WE’VE GOT! EVERYTHING THAT CRAWLS AND FLIES AND KILLS AND MAKE THAT TOWN A MEMORY!”

 

“Sir” His secretary chimed in soothingly. “Is it wise to cut the game short like this, what about the investors and the custome-“

 

“Fuck them.” He said turning to her bottling his rage into hands that looked like scare quotes emphasising his words. “I could give two shits about the fucking losers who pay to watch this shit. Who knows they might even like it, give them something new to fap to. Fuck some are probably furfags themselves.”

 

“Right sir, but the thumbs up on the stream are actually favourable. This much engagement at this early stage is unprecedented.”

 

His tone got loud but curt but he wasn’t shouting now, just talking out loud. “I learned from my dear old dad; ‘When someone tries to fuck you. You fuck them back twice as hard with their tears as fucking lube’, do you understand?”

 

“Yes sir”

 

“Send them, everything in the back catalogue. That little shitberg won’t know what hit him. This’ll be rapped up by tomorrow night. We sweep and clear, sterilize the town and we’re out without a trace with all the tactical data we need on the new prototypes.”

 

“You hear all that” Ms Palmer said touching her own ear piece.

 

“I heard him.” Evergreen said standing as rigid as an elm tree in the van looking straight. Murray was looking up at him not sure if he should talk. He ended the call and put his cellphone back in his top breast pocket and said to Murray “Do it.”

 

 

“Is he gone?”

 

“I think so, It’s gone quiet.”

 

“Too quiet.

 

“What the hell was that shit about, you think he was a terrorist or something”.

 

“Or a really pissed off postal worker.”

 

Two cops hiding in the dark of the police stations morgue crouched under an examination table. The cold feeling of all that chrome stainless steel surrounding them. Whispering like kids in boarding school in the cool darkness.

 

“Shhh what’s that noise?”

 

There was a muffled scratching noise.

 

“Shhhit he’s coming back, what d’we do?”

 

“I’m ready for the asshole this time.” He said as he sparked a lighter in the darkness making little pockets of light revealing them. Little coughs of light in the thick dark. A hissing release of gas then the woofing noise of steady flame.

 

“Where the hell dya get that Mal?”

 

“I swiped it from the evidence locker in all the confusion”

 

“Did you lock the door after?”

 

“Who the fuck cares Steve? My main priority right now is keeping my brain on the inside of my skull”. Mal said in a harsh biting spitting whisper. The flame of the flamethrower revealed him as a barrel chested Mexican with a mustache. His friend a slim balding man in uniform.

 

“Where we’d even get that from?”

 

“Weed farmers had it in case they needed to destroy evidence, fields of it.”

 

“Shhhh” Steve said as he readied his glock, lifting a torch to the side of it. “It’s coming from the win-“

 

A gutwrenching crash of glass and steel as some misshapen fuzzy form fell into the room. Carcrashing the silence of the dead in the morgue.

 

“What the fuck is that?” Mal said. Suddenly hesitant to use the flamethrower in such a small space having never fired it before. He hesitated looking at his partner. “Fucking shoot it already!”.

 

Steve swallowed and readied the glock in both hands letting the torch drop and roll to the feet of whatever it was. The careening beam of light revealing a giant cuddly bear with a ominous smile.

 

“What the fuck” Steve mouthed.

 

Mal looked at Steve and shouted “Fucking shoot it!”

 

He gathered himself aiming the gun carefully shaking. He popped off two shots into it’s fuzzy chest, a puff of smoke, a flash of light and some flying fur but the bear didn’t go down. It lurched forward and glomed onto Mal. The sounds of muffled jaws snapping under the costume, a dull whistling moan.

 

“Get offa me!” Mal said as he pushed back at it with one hand, the other on the flame thrower.

 

“What is that thing?”

 

“Fucking toast” Mal said as he readied the thrower. He hesitated a little like he wanted to cover his eyes as if he was about fire up a nuclear reactor. He fired it one solid burst engulfing the bear in the cloud of concentrated flames. The cool stainless steel lit up like rome, hot and cold, a warm light filling the tight sterile room.

 

The bear went up like a coach in a meth lab fire. The flames changing colour as they reacted to all the dyes and the artificial fibres. It started melting into a pile of indistinguishable rainbow mush.

 

“You got it” Steve said.

 

“Yeah I did” He smiled triumphant turning to his friend, his nose wrinkling up at the smell the thing was giving off. “Smells like burnt dolls hair and baby shit”.

 

Suddenly a white hot pain gripped his leg, quickly turning cool and numbing. “Ah, fucking tore a muscle or something, ah it burns!” He looked down and saw a multi-coloured molten paw gripping clawlike to his ankle.

 

He cried out like a rabbit caught in a bear trap as he was yanked off his feet by fear and revulsion. The pain now working its way to his brain, the smell of his own flesh cooking.

 

“Jesus!” Steve cried out popping off the small cap gun glock. The gun hopping in his hand like a hot potato covered in dish soap. The bullets getting lost in a nightmarish rainbow molten flaming goo making sad little sploshing sounds.

 

It climbed up Mal spreading it’s multi-coloured self all over him like rainbow napalm, burning and melting. His skin peeling away and falling off his bones as the toxic mess engulfed him. The smell growing stronger and more toxic burning the hair from both their noses. It got to his head, it’s hot clawlike fingers cutting through his flesh and skull like a hot knife through warm soft clay. Giving just a little resistance before collapsing in on itself. His brains and eye juice leaking out like warm jelly. Searing and bubbling and burning as they made contact with the white hot claws. Eyes popping out and boiling in the multi-coloured goo. He gave out an animalistic shrill scream of a semi-conscious dying thing crying out for something more painless. Instead of this searing slow mind tearing pain.

 

Steve shivered, shrinking into the darkest corner pulling the trigger of the now empty Glock. Clicking in the dark as the thing that swallowed what was left of his comrade started to rise. Flaming and melting, pieces falling off of it. The flame seeming perpetual. It lumbered towards him. Taking two steps before anticlimactically falling into a lifeless burning pile on the morgue floor.

 

Steve panted as the flames still raged. A relieved sigh leaving his lips he started to trace with his hands the corner of the room and walls. He started to back out towards the door quickly and quietly. The monster had kicked his torch back and he felt it rolling by his foot, he picked it up and walked backwards stopping as he backed into a coatrack.

 

“Oh shit, what is this, the coroner has a furcoat?” He said as he clicked on the torch, revealing crowd of silent giant plushies standing in the dark. “Oh no”.

 

 

A slim hand with green painted nails snaked around a crack in a door. Some quiet fumbling and then the click of a light switch.

Halogen lights lit up like rectangular lightsabers crisscrossing a grey concrete ceiling. Sandwiched by a grey concrete floor.

 

“This is it” Sunday said as her feet tapped on the concrete floor, echoing in the large open room. The smell of motor oil and wet paint. The garage was pretty much empty, a couple of trashed shells of cruisers and something interesting under a tarp in the centre. Her breath was a little short and she had a slick sheen of sweat on her face from throwing up earlier.

 

“Just like I said, follow the signs” BJ said as he followed her into the room.

 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here” Jimmy sulked his way in, his big knife hanging by his side.

 

TJ strode in like a Japanese general with his new sword at his side. Feeling ten feet taller, riding a crashing tsunami of raw power. He held it by his side blade up because he had no belt.

 

“Oooh” Sunday cooed as she knew tarps meant good shit, or total shit. She semi-skipped over towards the tarp flinging it off like she was pulling a table clothe off. Not really giving a shit if the plates were still there when she was done. A thick cloud of dust kicked up and swallowed her.

 

She was coughing loud, the others kept their distance. The dust settled revealing a large all terrain vehicle. Looked like decommissioned military. Low to the ground and angular with thick pierce proof tyres and reinforced windows, black. She hopped up onto the cab to look into the window calling back “Keys in the ignition”. With a big cliche’ smile on her face.

 

“Cool” TJ said.

 

Sunday was still coughing uncontrollably, but happily. She peeled away to look at it, trying to talk but getting cut off by another cough and then another. The coughing rolling into something akin to corpsing. It wouldn’t stop, she just kept coughing, her throat looked red and all the veins rose up on it. She started to sweat more, her mouth and nose started to leak a strange coloured substance. Her eyes rolling back into her head as she slumped to her knees. Her head hung down like a broken puppet, her arms lying at her side with their strings cut. Micro seizures locking her body up and down and releasing her. And then again, twitching like she was losing control of her body. Her bat hit the flaw and took a bite out of the concrete.

 

TJ rushed to her side almost dropping his new toy. His heart doing backflips, his stomach fighting to get to his throat. His ass tight as a drum full of coal that wanted to be diamonds.

 

“Sunday” He cried out. Hearing her name out loud was strange, addressing her, calling her by her name, were they friends? Was this anything close to a relationship, a woman he’d known for a grand total of three and a half days collectively. Officially the longest relationship he’d had with a 3D woman that wasn’t his mother.

 

Her body seemed to jossle back and forth. Waves of pain radiating up and down, making her sway rthythmically. Shivering like she was possessed.

 

“Please be ok” He whispered. “I can’t do this without you”. Tears welling up in his eyes he smiled at her, the sound of his sword jangling at his side.

 

“What the fuck is wrong with her?” Jimmy said with a little credulity in his voice as if she was faking.

 

Her head turned to meet TJ’s with a mechanic shift of ball bearings. Her face seemed flat and frozen, all the veins raised like a plate of red spaghetti. She tried to move her jaw but it seemed disconnected and loose.

 

“She is infected, the creepy hobo was right after all” BJ said softly.

 

Her mouth opened and a hushed hissing sound like air escaping a tire came out. Her mouth started to move with a great effort as if it was on some elaborate timer. The signal from her brain taking time to reach where it needed to be.

 

She grabbed his arm pulling him close and whispered

 

 “Kill….. me.”

Split Review – Beast level savagery

Ok so I’m of two minds, get it, because this story is about a dude with more than one personality?? Hahaha so big brained, hit me with a rock why don’t you? I’m not even of two minds, I actually just thought it was shitty haha, I just said that for the pun.

I watched this movie because my brother is the big pirate and he had it and I idly watched it while I was working out as I usually do. My brother really liked it but his tastes vary and we don’t always see eye to eye. So I went into it with a lot of scepticism because I’m a contrarian douche and anything he really likes or is really popular I usually hate or try to hate but I sometimes fail at hating those things, like I really tried hard to hate James Cameron’s avatar but I still like it. So sometimes movies are just good and fun and even the grump that I am can’t deny that.

But this wasn’t one of them and I’m writing this for myself as usual trying to decipher what specifically about it I hated.

Now for context I’m not one of these guys that shits on M.Night just because, I actually haven’t seen any of the movies people taut as his shit ones, like avatar and after earth. I’ve only seen the decent ones, sixth sense, unbreakable, the happening (kinda). So I’m not a hater and in fact, I didn’t even know he directed this movie until I saw his cameo, which I’ll get into later.

So I didn’t really enter this with any preconceptions other than my usual disposition to hate popular things like twilight and fidget spinners.

Ok actually gotta start the fucking review now

First thing I noticed because it’s pretty hard to ignore; it’s a pretty fucking boring ass movie. Like seriously, the first hour plus is just talking to this really retarded old woman about bullshit psychobabble and fashion. It’s trying to build tension and failing miserably and the way the twist is set up is so predictable it ruined the whole fucking movie. It’s like Night is more interested in having twists than them actually being good. Like he expects you to see his twists and be like “OMG NIBBA DIS SOME BIG BRAINED SHEEEIIITTT I NEED TO HIT IT WITH A ROCK YO!”

But as soon as they start talking about the 24th personality you know it’s going to appear, it’s a movie, so as soon as you start describing him we know we’re going to see it so how is it a twist when it eventually appears? You’re basically just telling us what’s going to happen at the end of the movie, that’s not a twist. It’s funny because I also watched the visit (Which I thought was ok but pretty unremarkable, I’ve seen indie found footage movies ten times better) by him recently and it does the same thing, the twist happens and it’s so predictable it seems like Night assumes his audience is just mouth breathing idiots in the way its delivered.

And I think that’s a lot of the problem with his film making, he thinks hes really smart but his audience is really dumb. So all that happens is that his movies sound dumb but are also really pretentious.
This is a movie for dumb people who think they’re smart (GOT fans basically haha) so that’s probably why it made so much money and people seem to like it, they don’t want people to think they don’t get it when there’s nothing to get, it’s just a silly campy kinda sorta thriller movie I guess.
For awhile I was just listening to this dialogue and the way it was shot and I couldn’t help thinking I was watching a movie within a movie, like how in movies there’s a parody of a movie within a movie and it’s just so over the top and ridiculous mocking movies. That’s this whole movie.

Another flaw in the movie is none of the characters are really very well developed or likeable and he even tries to have a backstory for one of the girls but it’s sort of pointless. I remember watching the scenes of her traumatic past and thinking about how the movie would have been pretty much unchanged if they just left them out.

They had no real impact on the plot and didn’t really make me feel any connection to her. I think if you just left them out she would have been more of a mystery and it would have been more like a traditional horror movie. Or even if you had her reveal her past in conversations with the other girls they could have had some character development. But you don’t need to know the teen counsellors tragic backstory to feel scared for them when Jason comes in friday the 13th, it’s just not relevant.

Another big thing I couldn’t stand in this movie is McAvoy, bless him, he tries, I like him but this was like watching him do GCSE drama and it was just a cringefest. He wasn’t scary or intimidating he was a cringe machine. The only time I cringed harder was at the ending but I’ll get to that.

He’s just trying too hard and the personalities seem less like personalities and more like funny voices he practised in front of a mirror, like Jim Carrey could have been more convincing. It was just silly and I couldn’t take the movie seriously, it just took me out of it.

The old lady I think pissed me off the most because she seemed like she got it, and it looked like she was smart enough to stay off the path of horror movie tropes, but no she asks to go to the bathroom and is discovered witnessing something she shouldn’t have and her fate is sealed and I have zero sympathy for her. You play stupid games you get stupid prizes, she knew this guy was dangerous and went to his house anyway and suffered for her arrogance.

Now about Night’s cameo, I don’t get why this guy thinks we want to see his face, the guy looks like a brown Phil Spector, he looks like a tall umpa lumpa from the shitty remake of Charlie and Chocolate factory. Like when Stan Lee does a cameo everyone goes ‘Hey it’s Stan Lee’ and don’t get me wrong it’s getting really old at this point. Honestly I think I might be relieved as well as saddened when he finally pops his clogs. But when you see Night it’s just like “Hey who’s that brown dude – oh it’s the director, uh huh”. Dude no one cares, you’re not some beloved figure like everyone’s grand dad or uncle like Stan Lee. You’re just some guy that makes shitty b movies that nevertheless have stupidly higher budgets than they deserve.

You’re like Tarantino you make high quality garbage movies, they’re trashy sometimes fun movies that are high spec and high budget but nevertheless no one gives a shit. I mean even mentioning Tarantino his cameos are at least funny or he dies somehow or says something dumb or memorable but in this movie Night’s cameo is just some guy the old lady talks to about hooters. It’s dumb. She could have just been on her own and the scene would have been unchanged.

Oh shit, hit the 1k mark gotta wrap this up haha.

Ok the ending, the ending was the most cringe inducing thing in the movie and it sort makes me question not only Night’s intelligence but his actual sanity. Because at the end of the movie it’s revealed, really hamily that this is set in the same universe as Unbreakable… a movie that was made in 2000 so that just gives you some perspective, this a is follow up to a movie that’s 17 years old. This is when this guy was talented, 17 years ago he made a cool movie people liked and now I just picture him watching the marvel universe and dc universe and universal trying to make a monster movie universe and he’s just like “I can do that.”

No, no you can’t you delusional idiot. He thinks he can make a movie universe with a movie he made 17 years ago and people are just gonna be like ‘Oh boy, can’t wait to see that.’

So in his mind this is a sequel to Unbreakable that will open up an avenue to a cross over sequel where Mcavoy will be the villain and Willis will be the hero again but how the fuck is that going to work? Can anyone imagine how that movie would go in their heads because this movie was bad enough as it was in terms of story.
My brother told me that the split character was actually cut from unbreakable but I dunno, honestly I am actually in two minds because half of me thinks ‘God why, oh god why? Just stop’ and the other half is actually intrigued how he might pull it off. I’m sitting at the side of the road thinking ‘How is this car accident going to look exactly?’

Oh jesus and not to mention how badly it was tied in to unbreakable and the tone is just all wrong. The one of unbreakable was sombre and serious and there was actually a lot of suspension of disbelief because you didn’t actually know if he had powers or not but in this you can see Mcavoy take a 12 gauge to the chest. It lacked all the subtlety and had a much sillier tone. It just wasn’t on the same level as Unbreakable, it was a joke honestly.

It failed at everything it tried to be, it’s not scary or gory enough to be horror, not enough happens for it to be a thriller, like there’s no real story, nothing that thrilling happens. And it’s not interesting in enough to be a drama or character piece, it’s just a steaming pile of wasted potential and sure smells a lot like bullshit and again I’m glad I didn’t waste any of my money on this emperors new clothes horseshit.

Oh yeah and the credits were split into multiples, get the fuck over yourself.

Yeah so no strong feelings at all haha.

See you…

Mad Like Me Anthology (I’m in it)

Hey there,

Back again for a quick one, anyone not on my mailing list just wanted to shout out this cool anthology I’m in. It’s a rare occurence because so many of these projects just fizzle out, but Valerie pulled this off and it turned out really nice.

So head on over to Amazon and give it a buy maybe, it’s available of course in paperback and ebook.

Mad Like Me

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Driftwood Tales By Ambrose Grimm – Savage review

Just far too slow and dithering, the pacing isn’t great and the hints at the start are kind of cheesy.. The story takes itself far too seriously and it’s just kind of derivative. I feel like I’ve seen this story a million times before. This is something you’d get from a seventies portmanteau movie and it wasn’t really scary then and it isn’t now. I just didn’t find it very interesting, even if it was a dream, the part with the ghosts had zero bite to it. There’s no setup, he’s just talking to this old woman about nothing in particular, then boom ghosts, feel sorry for these dead kids for reasons. It just couldn’t hold my interest long enough to finish it, you really need to have some hook right at the start or people’s eyes just glaze over. The characters are also just place holder characters, they have no real depth so it’s hard to care about them. I can see you’ve tried to make it somewhat descriptive and I like some of the Lovecraft words, gibbous. But this is no Lovecraft. Lovecraft isn’t the best writer but he captures the atmosphere and the attention from the word go and leaves a lasting sense of foreboding. I mean there could be a great story here but I’m not going to read it because it’s weighed down with the poor pacing. It;s by no means bad and trust me, I’ve seen bad, it’s just ok.

I actually can’t link to this story because this was review was so savage they took it down haha (I’m not proud of this). I actually wrote back and gave them some more constructive feedback and they thanked me for being so honest so it’s not that bad. I did write back and gave them some ideas I thought might improve the pacing so I’m not a monster, well… ah.

Green Sunday Chapter 15 ‘Strange Eyes’ (Edit)

Hello lovely people,

First I want to thank all those new people who joined my mailing, so I hope and assume you’re reading this, if not who gives a shit ahah?

Ok so on to updates, personal life; still trash.
Looking at, oh shit that reminds me I can post those. I have sketches for the initial cover designs of Green Sunday. So that’s underway, having more sketches drafted. I’ll post the ones I have down here somewhere.

I’ve worked out the contract and paid for the edit of Ladies Close Your Eyes but the cover could take a bit longer, so as soon as I get the edit back I’ll just clean it up as is and send it via my mailing list to everyone on it as promised.

As usual got a little excerpt of the next edited chapter of GS ‘Strange Eyes’. It’s a fun one, had to fight to keep my inner weeb coming out haha. It’s hard to restrain yourself from writing this big stupid self indulgent action scene that runs away with itself, but I had fun so fuck it haha.

As usual you can read the whole thing by following the link to inkitt right here.

Strange Eyes

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These are just some basic sketches for outlining the finished design, so please don’t judge yet haha.

http://pagdon.com/

This is the guys page, he’s a real artist folks, not no comic book hustler haha, check him out and peace out.

The brief silence was ripped apart like a piece sugar of paper. A red Beetle door, with garish orange flames spray painted on it, flew across the garage, spinning like a coin flipped by a King Kong size index finger and thumb. It hit the wall of the shop, pancaking the fat biker and embedding itself in the concrete and sheet metal, load-bearing wall.

The fat biker was eviscerated by the force of the door and his body hitting the wall. He looked like he’d fallen from space. His body was only recognizable by garish, near-human-shaped body parts: hands, feet, an eyeball, a tongue, a limb with bone shrapnel perforating the skin. His wet carcass popped like a water balloon full of dark red jello, sticking in some places and plastered to the wall. Heavier matter slopped onto the floor, making a cringe-inducing, wet, slapping noise.

He looked inside out. Grown men, who watched people beat each other to death and fed people to half-dead freaks, threw up raw hotdogs onto the concrete floor.

Mojang shook as he clutched the grenade launcher in his large hands.

The bikers watched as a puckish boy hopped off the rim of the pod. He could have been anywhere between sixteen and twenty. He had a slim, strong frame, and was around five foot four.

He scanned the room. His face wasn’t visible for a carbon fibre helmet covering most of his head, making him look like a cross between a paladin from WOW and a Power Ranger. His body was covered in a skin-tight compression suit made from individual plates of space age metal. The plates moved and breathed with his body, like the scales of a dragon.

A slit in his visor revealed a penetrating stare and a strange set of blue-green eyes. One eye was blue; the other was green.

The boy looked around the room, like the Terminator, but his eyes had a faint smile to them, as if he was in on the joke. His gaze nevertheless was cold and unfeeling. When he’d finished, he flashed a cocky grin with his eyes and turned around. He hopped back onto the pod, like Peter Pan, dislodging a strange chrome rod. The rod flared out in both directions, forming two conical points. It was almost the length of the boy’s entire body.

Clutching it in the middle, by what was now evidently a handle, the boy crossed his chest with the strange, chrome, double-ended lance and let out a cocky, breathy laugh.

“What the fuck are you waiting for? This clown need to make you balloon animals? GREASE THIS MOTHERFUCKER!” Mojang stuttered, wrestling with the volume of his voice as his whole frame shook.

GREEN SUNDAY Chapter 13 ‘Sunday Mourning’ (Edited) Sunday returns, finally.

Ok ok finally getting around to going over these edited chapters of GS fresh out of the girl and cat publishing bakery of fine editing. Thanks as always to Nat and her time and effort and really great comments.

I’ve fallen behind on these and now seeing a gap in writing I thought it was best to strike now and get them out of the way so I can move onto editing for my newer stuff and get onto a new project.
I’m taking a little break, which isn’t really a break and will last til january. I’m just not starting any new projects at the minute and focusing on editing and cleaning older stuff up as well as plotting new stories mainly a sloppy as shit Dexter fanfic. I’ve got big dreams people, I’ve got Jeff Linday on facebook and we’ve exchanged like five words haha. I’m sure he’s just chomping at the bit to have me take the reigns of his mythos haha.

Honestly, I don’t know why I’m doing it, I should be plotting out my fantasy story or laying the solid ground work for a new Green Sunday but I just felt like doing some Dexter stuff for fun. It just bubbled to the surface of my mind and I felt like hammering it out a little for when I eventually start reading the books again and getting straight in my head.

In January, I’ll be jumping into another novella probably, just to break the pace up a little, do something a tad different, a little fantasy/surreal horror. Which now thinking back sounds pretty much what Ladies Close Your Eyes turned into but I didn’t intend it to haha.

It’ll be another adapted comic strip and I have a rough idea which one I have in mind but I’m a fickle cunt so whichever sticks best in my head on the day will be what goes down, new year new head, new flesh.

So here we are back again, I’ve got all the chapters done now, just gonna doll them out to you on here and of course you can read them all, because I’m just putting them all up as they’re done on my inkitt page which I will leave a link to below.

I’m probably going to launch the full book on amazon some time next year when I get the cover back from an artist friend of mine and do some marketing giving away LCYE as a free ebook, which I’ll do on here and facebook and twitter and probably minds.

Here it is chapter 13 ‘Sunday Mourning’, let me know what you think and don’t forget to check on out on twitter and minds.

https://www.minds.com/CallMeRyk

As always the full chapter can be found on my inkitt page.

Sunday Mourning

See you…

A drone camera buzzed over the scene behind TJ’s house, out of sight, too high up to be heard. Its ambivalent gaze documenting everything. Its lens flitted about like that of an insect’s eye. The monitor feed from Evergreen’s deployment truck glared as he grinned back, the feed reflected in his goggles.

“She got too close to the perimeter of the game zone. Looks like she was taken out by beta team,” The nerd at the console said as he looked over the footage again. “Very clean; she won’t have felt a thing.” Murray straightened his glasses with a morbid sense of appreciation. “They really are the best, sir”.

“Uh huh.” Evergreen’s grin shrunk a few sizes, listening to the tech gush. “It’s time.”.

“Yes, sir, beginning stage three,” the tech said as he turned back to his console.

~

Helicopter blades cut through a violent wind, casting rain in wide dispersal patterns as the heavy behemoths rocked back and forth.

These were military transport helicopters, for carrying battlements or vehicles to the field: four in all, carrying heavy metal containers. They looked like smooth industrial shipping containers, but both the containers and the choppers were completely unmarked.

“Roger that. We’re estimated four hours out of the drop zone. Good morning. If this rain lets up, it’s gonna be a beautiful day,” the chopper pilot said over his radio.

~

“You kept me waiting,” Carpenter whispered as he twisted the barbed point of the arrow under Dave’s chin. Dave grimaced, dropping his torch and kukri.

“Killing me will do you no good. I’m not a part of the game; I’m just his assistant!”

Carpenter took Dave by his shoulders and threw him down on the dirty linoleum floor. Dave offered little resistance and fell at the side of the dead woman drinking the milkshake. His fall caused her to shift in her seat, sliding down the bench until her face rested right next to Dave’s as he attempted to dust himself off. By the dim light of his torch he could see he was in kissing range of the gaping exit wound in her face.

“Oh, shit!” He gaped.

“‘Oh, shit’ indeed,” Carpenter chuckled as he picked up both Dave’s torch and his kukri knife.

“What do you want?”

Carpenter put the torch under his chin and smiled like a ghoul in an old monster movie. “A way out.”

“Why would I know the way?”

“Do you like scary movies?” Carpenter said, smiling. He poked each yellow tooth with his tongue in turn. “You don’t think there was someone like you and your butt buddy up there the last time?” Carpenter let out a bitter little breathy laugh. He shook the beam of the torch around, feigning hysterics. “It’s a sick world we live in.”

He marched up to Dave and stomped on the leg closest to him; Dave let out an anguished cry like an injured animal.

Carpenter crouched down next to Dave, shining the torch in his face and Dave cowered under the beam, guarding his eyes with his hand. Carpenter saw it immediately and snickered to himself, thinking of something poetic to say at this karmic justice he’d send on its way. “Feeling all right? Fever? Dry mouth? Itching under the skin? E-rectile dysfunction?”

Dave looked up at him and swallowed a dry gob of spit.

“There’s a helicopter. North side of town, by the abandoned railyard, but it’s guarded; you’ll never make it alone.”

Carpenter gave him that wide devil grin and turned to walk away, tossing the torch and the kukri away as he left Dave scrabbling in the dark.

“I’m not alone; not anymore.”

~

TJ couldn’t move. His body was rooted to the ground by chains of empty regret. His limbs felt hollow and heavy at the same time.

“TJ, it’s Sunday, I know we just met, but you have to trust me. I used you; I’m not a good person. But I can make it up to you, if you live,” Sunday whispered in TJ’s ear where he lay on the cold, damp grass of his backyard. A light drizzle was approaching, accompanied by muffled threats of dull, aching thunder.

TJ remained perfectly still. Sunday swallowed and turned him over. His eyes were open, vacant and grey. His mouth hung open a fraction and fluttered as if he was trying to say something but didn’t have enough energy. “TJ, can you hear me? We need to move. You’re gonna come with me, OK?” She hooked her dainty little hands under his sweaty pits, lifting him with some effort. “Urf, fuck, you’re heavy!”

She turned him around and dragged him in the direction of his house. “Ergh! This would be a lot easier if you just – hrrff, hrrff – stood up and, you know, walked.”

She got him back into the kitchen, which felt a lot colder now. Closing the door, she looked out the window. His mother’s body, lying there, looked almost beautiful. Sunday breathed in and out, feeling her icy breath swirling around in her chest. “It could have been worse,” she sighed as the rain rolled in.

~

 

LCYE Chapter 10 ‘Dance of the Dream man’ Raw AKA return of the dreamer.

Yoyoyo this obnoxious intro was brought to you by someone that smashed NaNoWriMo 2016!!!!!!!!

Yeah I’m not that psyched about it, all I got was a crappy like certificate I had to download and put my own name on and a computer generated pat on the back. Even my mother was dissapointed, I somehow convinced her it was important and the prize wasn’t just 50,000 words of complete gibberish. Nah I’m fucking with you, its pretty good, it’s not entirely finished, should be done and dusted by december and I’ll start leaking proofread chapters on here and probably inkitt too although I’ve been in talks with this publishing house called quivering quills or some gay shit, I don’t know, but they looked at GS and thought it was a piece of shit but who knows they might like this, it may not be a complete piece of shit.

So yeah I was gone, almost sort of lost my mind there, everyday spent inside my head trying to hold on to some semblance of sanity as well as keep up with a 2k a day word quota. It almost made my day job feel like a break from the bleak blank insane scratching inside the wet wailing walls of my skull. Which reminds me the holiday season is upon us and I must go back to work and listen to same christmas type music over and over again and try not fucking impale people with a christmas tree.

Updates updates updates, it’s back to business, shock horror, I lied to you Ladies Close Your Eyes has been completed for months maybe, not actually maybe just a few weeks and I was just releasing a chapter at a time to tease or whatever but I just thought fuck it and I wanted to mess with inkitts algorithyms so I published the whole thing. But I will still keep posting individual chapters because I’m back and I need a constant stream of content and with the day job and proofreading and sorting out all the shit I need to do to get GS ready for amazon or a garbage fire I really don’t have time to just do wordy nonsense blogs or reviews so yeah.

With no more to do here it is, Chapter ten ‘Dance of the Dream man’ if you haven’t watched Twin Peaks you should, very much inspired by that, I love the mixing of the dark and the absurd. Absurdity and comedy sort of act as lube for the big black cock of horror you slowly slide down allowing it to get deeper and deeper inside the anus of your fetid minds. Whereas without the lube you might just sit on it and jump off straight away. (Metaphor excellence achieved).

As for today I’m gonna be chilling and probably christmas knife shopping for myself.

As usual you can get a preview here and check out the full chapter over on inkitt. I’m probably gonna be giving this away soon as a free ebook to people who sign up to my blog so please as soon as I do this forget inkitt exists please haha.

Dance of the Dream Man

Cheers!

James was standing in front of the blue door; someone had left it open. He pushed it and it opened with a rehearsed creaking sound. Allowing a thin shaft of daylight to spread in an arc across the floor.

James swallowed hard and in his head it was very loud. He gingerly entered the small room following the beam of light.

The light ended before the opening of a tiny bathroom. Looking inside, it had no windows. Just a shower bath combo with a shower curtain pulled closed all the way around in the right corner running along the wall. The toilet was to the left in the other corner but the room was so small they were almost touching. The sink was in the small amount of space in the right corner closest to the door in front of the bath. The bathroom was tiled all around in a black and white pattern that went from the floor to the walls. The ceilings and places untouched by tiles were the same desert tan colour as the outside of the building. The toilet seat matched the patter, the porcelain was naturally white but the seat and lid were black.

There was just something off about black in a bathroom, it hid the dirt but it also felt dirty.

There was a loud dripping noise coming from the bath tub.

James approached the bath and gripped the edges of the shower curtain which met at the corner of the bath.

He parted them swiftly, like ripping off a band aid.

The bath was full of a brown dark liquid, a putrid rusty water that had a dank smell. The bath itself was filthy, the gaps between the black and white tiles were black with mould. The shower head and bath fixture were also covered in the same black mould. He examined the taps and the shower head but there was nothing leaking.

Remembering himself he set to looking about the bathroom for any clues. Shy of sticking his hand in that filthy water and draining the tub there was nothing of interest in the bathroom. He could have stuck his hand down the toilet, but why would he do that?

He left the bathroom and returned to the bed/living room area.

The bed was un-made and showed signs of a struggle, the satin sheets were half off the queen sized bed. The long red curtains were drawn, the chair in the corner of the room was empty and there was nothing on the coffee table. The room smelled like sex and cheap perfume.

The old TV was in the same place as his dream but the screen was dark.

“Dream?” As he said it he started to feel light headed, his heart started to race and he couldn’t get it to stop. “Was it a dream?”.

He stumbled and knocked the TV off its stand leaving a large crack down the centre of the bevelled screen.

James collapsed into the chair in the living area and tried to catch his breath, he closed his eyes and tried to centre himself, stop the spinning. It felt like something unnatural was happening. Like his brain was rebooting, trying to make sense of two memories overlapping.

Just like that he felt something poking him from the side of the seat cushion. He put his hand down the side to see what it was.

It was a business card.

‘Dr. Alphonso Moral’

It had the second love symbol on it with a phone number on the back.

Now he started to remember, he had gone there, but something had gone wrong.

He shambled out of the room, a sheen of sweat across his brow. The sun was still high but the fresh air made him straighten up a little as he walked back towards the office.

The office was still open; he must have been gone only twenty minutes.

Like before the old man wasn’t at his desk so James rang the bell. There was something off about the front desk though, there was something missing and he couldn’t quite place it. The fan was still going back and forth and although it offered some breeze it was slight and pointed in the wrong direction. He tried to turn it around but it was affixed to the desk somehow.

He rang the bell again, remembering it took at least three rings for the old man to know you were serious.

On the third ring he expected to hear some commotion in the back but there nothing, just the TV on like before. An infomercial about old people losing the remote was playing. Advertising some kind of device that would let you find it, necessarily he thought what would happen if you lost the device to find the remote too.

He rang the bell a fourth time but still he couldn’t hear anything.

James sighed anxiously. The old man must have gone out or he was sleeping in the back. All he really wanted was to use the phone. He couldn’t know for sure but he was pretty certain he was in a hurry.

James went around the counter and put on a loud but unthreatening voice.

“HEY- ERR, OLD MAN? I JUST WANNA USE THE PHONE, I’LL BE GONE IN A SECOND. I THINK I BROKE ONE OF YOUR TV’S I’LL PAY YOU BACK FOR IT, DON’T WORRY”.

James entered the back room through the little alcove beyond the beads. The beads making an unnerving cacophony of clacking noises.

The old man was asleep in his chair facing away from the alcove towards a large TV set on a stand not unlike the ones in the rooms, sitting in the corner. A long hanging mirror on the wall next to it.

The phone was on a small side table against the wall on the right as soon as you entered the alcove. It was a weird novelty phone in the shape of a football. Which was particularly odd since he hadn’t noted any football memorabilia of any sort in the lobby or anywhere as he looked around now. The room was ‘cosy’.

There were more of those plants wilted in the corners of the room. There was no furniture apart from the easy chair the old man was asleep in which looked like real leather, real old leather. There was a small table next to the chair but it was knocked over with an upturned bowl of chips next to it. He must have just knocked it over while he was sleeping. The floors were hard wood for lack of a carpet. There were just some beaten up looking rugs with floral patterns. There was another beaded alcove which must have led to a kitchenette and a bedroom if he really did live here.

James quietly picked up the phone’s receiver and started to dial with the card cupped in his other hand and the receiver cradled in his neck. There was another mirror on the wall above the side table and James looked at himself for a brief indulgent moment of vanity. He looked a little younger in that Jacket he couldn’t remember buying, not that it mattered. The cut above his eye looked ok and his neck wasn’t hurting as much.

As the phone started to ring he noticed something in the mirror he’d missed on his way in. There was something out of place next to the TV, in front of the long hanging mirror. The phone was still ringing while he looked closer at it in the mirror above the side table. It was some kind of heavy rectangular object, four wooden corners embossed with a brass trimming. The brass seemed to be rusting but only on one of the corners and along the sides of the object adjacent to that corner. Possibly it was supposed to be sitting in the corner of the room and those parts were never polished.

He couldn’t see much else from that angle so he took a step the right and craned his neck, he didn’t want to turn around and whip the phone off the table. He was on hold; the music was some French woman whining about something or other.

There was a plaque on the base but he was too far away to read what it said. But in his new angle he was able to see a small fuzzy shape and he remembered what was wrong with the desk scene. ‘Fido’.

The stuffed Chihuahua from the front desk had taken up legs and moved here and was lying on the floor. A cold sensation gripped his gut and he swallowed hard as his eyes craned up from the dog lying on the floor. His jaw tightened as he saw a pale set of eyes staring back at him reflected in the hanging mirror into the mirror above the side table.

The old man was slumped in his chair, his hairy white arms hanging off the sides. His lifeless cloudy eyes staring into the mirror. His head was a mess of blood and bone and brain matter, caved in with the corner of the little stuffed mutt.

James licked his lips frozen. A man’s voice came on the line.

“Hello, who is this?”

“I’ll call you back”. James said as he hung up the phone.

~

Dance of the Dream Man

GS Chapter 12 edited ‘Live through Death’

Hola people of ‘teh’ world, me again here to spout a mini blog type thing that I do over the chapters of my insane meandering in the world of fiction.

Gonna keep it mercifully short today because reasons, just usual shit. I’m gearing up for nano, wrapping up Ladies Close Your Eyes, I’m pretty happy with it, and the reception on that nepotisitic fart box known as ‘inkitt’ is fairly good. But who gives a shit? I’m enjoying writing it, it was a nice change to do focus on something smaller and different. I’ll try and find a place for it some magazine or contest when it’s done, maybe I’ll get it edited, but judging by the amount of time it’s taking for GS to come back I’d be lucky to get it out before the next ice age. Oh also currently in talks with an artist acquantance of mine for the cover, which should be fun, his art is really… arty. I look forward to spend too much money on that haha.

I’m excited about nano (Almost said about the next ice age), my personal life is in ruins, got no career to speak of but hey I can write some decent shit and that’s a reason not to off myself which is wearing thin haha.

This chapter is the more feelsy one, grab those tissues lads and laddettes, its about to get real up in here.

As usual head on over to those good smarmy twats over at inkitt to get your peepers all over it for free by following this here link. And if anyone wants to send me more pictures of green haired chicks, feel free haha.

Live through Death

~

Candlelight flickered on the counter top in TJ’s kitchen, a weary flame tossed back and forth by a careless breath or a sigh. TJ, his mother and Sunday huddled around the small kitchen table and ate in silence.  A restrained rattling of cutlery hid polite coughs and awkward glances across the table. No one dared utter a word.

TJ’s mom smiled at whomever cast an eye her way, but her smile was a little cracked on one side.

They finished a humble meal of frozen pork chops and a garden salad from a re-sealable pack, which TJ’s mother put back in the crisper at the bottom of the fridge. She cleared their plates.

“Mom, let me help you.”

“It’s fine. You two wash up and get to bed. I set you two up on the couch until we can get your room tidied up.” She sighed. “It’s such a mess; you said an animal got in?”

“Yeah,” TJ said as his hands slipped from the plates. He turned his head away and felt a cold steel ringing in the emptiness that was growing inside him.

His mom smiled as she took the plates to the dishwasher and loaded them in.

“It’s OK. I didn’t like any of those posters anyway; we can get it cleaned up in no time.” A weak laugh tried to escape her diaphragm, but it didn’t quite make it and instead came out as a pained hiccup.

TJ sat back down and looked at Sunday anxiously. She sat with her feet up on her seat, poking at a very dry piece of lettuce, trying not to be noticed.

“I’m done,” she said as she pushed the table away and hopped off the seat. She swam through the tension in the little kitchen and escaped to the cosy solitude of the living room.

TJ bit his bottom lip and swallowed a dry lump, his chest feeling tight and hot.

“Good night,” he said as he got up from the table and walked away. His footsteps, light, barely made contact with the floor. The image of his mother at the kitchen sink got smaller and smaller as he left the room. That image of her burned into his memory.

~

“It’s almost time,” Evergreen sighed. He felt a strange elation washing over him. He kept it to himself. “What do we have in stock?” he said through gritted teeth. A closeted eagerness leaked out in his voice as he leant against a high back chair in the operations van.

“Err, a couple of chimeras, one of those big bastards and that new one,” the tech said as he handed Evergreen a small tablet computer over his shoulder.

The tech seemed to be getting high off of Evergreen’s steely excitement. He sat in his chair, craning his neck to watch. Evergreen smiled, flipping through the pictures on the tablet as it lit up his dark, shark-like face. The mobile command centre was dark, lit only by a series of monitors. They covered the inside of something that looked like a large tanker truck from the outside.

Noticing the attention he was getting from this eager little whelp, Evergreen cast a disparaging eye towards the tech. He was a young guy, maybe late twenties, early thirties, with shaggy blond hair. A set of boxy glasses perched on his sharp nose. His name tag said his name was ‘Murray’. Tossing the tablet into his lap, he said, “Fuck it, ‘Murray’, use ’em all.”

Murray, feeling a little exposed, tilted his eyes down, cleared his throat, adjusted his glasses and got back to work. “Yes, sir. T minus two hours to full release of specimens.”

~

In the dimly lit living room, Sunday had commandeered the roomy sofa and had spread herself across it like Cleopatra. She wore another one of TJ’s zombie-themed shirts with no bottoms. ‘Evil Dead’, this time, with a picture of Ash lifting his chainsaw, ready for root canal work.

“Got a big day tomorrow,” she said as she rolled onto her side, away from TJ, revealing a set of pink panties with a picture of a little cartoon, a smiling green ice cream cone, on the back.

He turned away, trying not to look and burst a blood vessel; a sudden rush of sadness hit him. “Tell me…” He pulled a blanket off the coffee table. His mother had set out a bunch of folded bedding for them both. He began to lay it down flat on the wooden floor. “…Are we gonna make it?”

“What are you doing?” She turned to watch him laying the blanket on the floor. “There’s enough room for both of us on here.” She rolled back over onto her side.

“Err.” A cold sweat began plummeting down to TJ’s ass crack, like cold corpse fingers running down his back “What?” His breath came out in short bursts now.

“You need to get your rest for tomorrow.” She paused and took a deep breath. “You can’t sleep on the floor; I won’t let you.”

TJ swallowed hard, harder than he’d ever swallowed, and began to shake his head up and down like a dog.

“O-K.”

TJ edged his way closer to the couch. Each step felt like jumping on a slippery rock in a fast flowing stream. The image of Sunday’s warm back jostled in his field of vision as he tried to get closer. He reached the edge of the couch. He stopped dead, trying not to make a sound.

She rolled sleepily onto her back.

Without opening her eyes, she yawned and said, “TJ, get on the fucking couch.” She then rolled back onto her side, showing him her lovely back again, with that signature green quaff of hair sticking up from where she had just lain on it.

“Yeah, I’m just…”

He turned away and edged his roomy behind onto the tip of the couch, praying to himself in his head, Please don’t fart. Please don’t fart. Please don’t fart. When all his weight was equally distributed, he let out a little sigh, followed by a small yet squeaky fart that he hoped only dogs could hear. He froze, swallowing hard as he waited for her to say something. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! he said to himself. She stirred. His heart pounded in his chest. His throat became drier than a cough sweet sitting at the bottom of an old lady’s purse.

After a moment of nervous pause, he deduced that she was asleep and hadn’t heard, so he began to gradually lower himself into position on the couch. Pulling the cover up over himself and Sunday, he ever so delicately slid his large body in next to hers. His belly pressed against her warm back and, as he put his head down to rest next to hers, he could smell her hair. It smelled a little musty but not bad musty. Like the stump of a tree with fresh moss growing on it, fresh and rich and intoxicating. Her smell made his hair stand up on his pudgy arms. He tried to position his arms behind her back without touching her butt or making too much noise.

Don’t get a boner, don’t get a boner, don’t get a boner, don’t get a boner, he said to himself, under his breath, as he slithered his arm around her waist, angling for a more comfortable position while holding his breath. It was not unlike someone trying to defuse a bomb in an eighties action movie.

Sighing and releasing the tension in his arm, he grinned like a monkey and took a large inhalation of her hair as he settled into his dream position: the big spoon of a girl he couldn’t have imagined would say more than three words to him if the world wasn’t ending.

His heart leapt in his chest as if it wanted to climb out of his throat and give him a high five. For a minute he forgot what he was even doing on the couch. Oh, yeah, sleep.

He settled and forced his eyes closed. And he glided off to sleep on rainbows and bullshit.

~

Live through Death

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