Gaining Some Traction

Hello all.

Me again.

Have you ever had a time where you were completely stressed out for a few weeks? That's been me. As a result, I haven't been updating much lately. Also as a result of this, I have lost a total of twenty followers across all of my social media platforms. That's a lot considering how many I actually have.

But that's alright.

I just got the final draft of Heresy back and it should be going up for pre-order very soon. I also just bought my domain name and updated my website FINALLY. I got about three chapters left on my next release and I will hopefully finish those by the end of this week, edit it first, then send it out to the editor I pay for a second opinion. I'm hoping the next book will be released in August..... so with that statement being said, I want to have a cover ready for that book by next week.

After that book is released, I am working on two more books at the current moment, one of which I have been working on for a year now and it's almost done and it is MASSIVE. The other literally has two pages done, but it's coming along very nicely (I just haven't had the time to do anything with it yet).

So that's what we're looking at for the summer right now, a lot to do and not too much time to do it but I hope to have it done.

So that's all guys and, as always, stay rotten, everybody.

My Grim New Teaser!

I am happy to announce my upcoming release The Brook Horse. While this project is worked around and as we grow closer to its release, I will be releasing more teasers.

It took four hours to shoot this extremely short teaser and, man, was it messy. I spent at least two of those hours just cleaning up after myself. Luckily, fake blood is easy to clean up.

Anyway, give it a watch guys! I'll have more info on this as we get closer to its release, just know that I am cooking up something special for you guys.

I Ordered a Salad

I had ordered a salad.

Pretty basic thing.

The waitress was kind and genuine, and a real looker to boot. I ordered a diet Pepsi with my salad too, can't stand the taste of water or coffee. So she came back and gave me my diet Pepsi and I drank it down fast, I was thirsty and the damn drink just tasted so good.

The waitress came back with another diet Pepsi and my salad, gave me a quick smile and returned to her work.

I got about halfway through the salad when the waitress came back and asked me if everything was good and I, of course, said yes. She smiled again. She gave me her number after that and said I was cute or something... I don't know. Just as she finished writing down that number, the bell signaling the arrival of another customer dinged.

"I'll call you later," I said, giving her a quick glare.

CRACK!

She went down like a sack of potatoes, leaving a bit of warm, sticky residue on my face.

I stood up and held my father's pistol at the young couple behind me and fired off three more shots. One into the back of his girlfriend's head, and the other two in his chest.

Five more shots and five more people who attempted to flee, fell to the floor. Damn, I'm glad I took those classes! Perfect headshots!

The others didn't even try to escape, probably thinking I was going to spare their lives.

I killed most of them.

Only two remained and I could not find them anywhere, an old man and his grand daughter probably got away today.

The cops pulled up and I continued pulling off a few more shots, taking down one of them. His partner got the upper hand, however, and now here I am lying on my back staring up at a ceiling fan waiting to die.

And who said you can't start a good story with "I ordered a salad?"

Wedding Ring

There once was a woman who smelled awfully bad. The kids all avoided her from blocks away, even her neighbors vacated their houses for fear of every time she stepped outside.
Margaret wasn't a bad person, she struggled a great deal in her life. Once she was pregnant by her husband, but her husband was shot dead while on the force. The stress was too much for her. Being two.months along, she had a miscarriage. When the procedure came that she needed to get her child out of her body, she asked the doctor to keep it for her and the doctor ubderstood, as odd of a request as that was. So he put the fetus into a small plastic vial and sent it and its mother home after a full recovery on her part.
Well, many years passed and Margaret passed away from a stroke. When the mortician noticed that her left ringfinger had been horribly discolored and reeked of rot, he decided to investigate. Forced to cut the ring off of the finger, he noticed that it had a bit of flesh leaking out of it. He obtained the necessary tools and broke open the ring. He discovers, inside, the rotting remains of Margaret's fetus. Smashed into the tight chambers of the ring. All these years she had found some way to keep the meat moist, but failed at keeping it fresh.

"Oh my God!" Said the coroner.

Then he spewed his lunch all over the tile floor,

SNEAK PREVIEW OF A ROUGH DRAFT STORY IN "203"

Innocent Moon ROUGH PREVIEW

I've lost track of the days since I was put here. I only know that I was taken when I was only eight years old. I am now twenty-five, I think, and have spent my life in this lonely, tiny hardwood room.

I miss my parents and my brother.

Somehow, I've managed to hold onto my sanity all these years by scribbling down my thoughts and a few notes to myself, on parchments provided to me by my kidnappers.

I'm not treated poorly here, in fact, I'm treated rather well aside from not being allowed to leave this room without anyone by me. I have only seen three people since I was put it in here and that bothers me, I had many friends as a girl and now the only face that I see is the elder's, a girl who brushes my hair, and the man that has stood outside my door for almost two decades.

Aside from that, twice a week the girl comes and gently brushes my hair and tells me how pretty it is and how soft my skin is, she showers me with compliments in fact. I'm given fresh kimonos daily, I have a very soft bed and many, many beautiful dolls, I'm fed as much as I want anytime of the day.

I'm examining one of the dolls now, my newest one, she looked a lot like me in fact. She had lock black hair, a white kimono with a red sash and she had very majestic make-up painted on her little, gently smiling face. I usually pretend the dolls are my daughters, but not this time, this time all I was doing was looking at her growing more and more angry by the second-- I was suppose to have a husband by now and a family, but my isolation has kept me from that! I just want to go home! I don't care about any of this! I want my life and my family back!

I threw the doll across the room from my bed, as hard as I could and I watched her face explode against the wall, leaving a small crack on the surface.

My face fell to my knees and I sobbed. Why me of all people? I was a good girl and a great daughter!

Moments after, the door unlocked and was pulled open; Elder Misurugi stepped in, looked at the doll and frowned as he looked at me. He approached me and knelt beside me on the bed and said,

“What's the matter, Tachiba? Are you growing bored with your dolls? Getting too old perhaps?”

The Elder's heavily wrinkled face held a look of false concern. I looked him in his deathly gray eye and said,

“No, I've grown upset by this room. I want out now! I want to go home!”

The Elder's frown reversed and he laughed as he spoke,

“Don't worry, Tachiba,” he said, “Your wish will be granted later this day,”

They were finally going to let me go free? That easily? After nearly twenty years they might just let me go free? I can see my family again! I will make up for the years I've lost to this wooden box and these glass faces.

“Why later?” I asked, “Why not now?”

“It is not yet time,” the Elder replied.

“When sunset comes, the followers and I will come to collect you and lead you to the shrine--”

“The shrine?” I interrupted, my heart leaping up into my throat, “Why?”

“Your calling, child. You will be elevated and deliver this world into glory,”

Were they going to sacrifice me? Fear gripped my tongue and I could not speak.

“Rest now, Tachiba,” the Elder leaned close to me and place his aged, yet powerful, hand on the top of my head and raised his lips just before my forehead, “You will need all of your strength for tonight,”

Then I felt his lips press against my forehead. They were slimy, warm, and-- rough. After about twenty seconds, the Elder backed away from me, looked me in my eyes and smiled.

Misurugi stood up, turned around and left from the room and the door closed and locked behind him.

The air that rushed in hinted to me that it was early morning.

I will not let them take me! I search the floor for the fragments of the doll's face but found nothing, while the elder spoke with me, the guards came in and swept up the fragments.

Damn them! Damn Misurugi and his 'Followers'!

The door swung open again and two younger men walked in, grinning at me.

“It's an honor to meet you, lady Tachiba,” the younger of the two said.

The younger one was handsome, and built. A tan hakama hung off of his powerful frame. Upon looking him in his eyes, I felt my cheeks grow slightly warm. He was not much older than me either. No, think straight, they are planning to sacrifice me. This is all part of their plan, I imagine, attempting to keep me distracted until it was time.

“My name is Hamada and I am Elder Misurugi's grandson,” the handsome one said, bowing,

“It is my honor as well, Tachiba. I am Hori. I was the guard that sat outside your door since you came to us all those years ago,” the shorter, older, balding one added, also bowing.

I said nothing.

The two lifted their heads and the three of us sat in silence until Hori broke with,

“We've been asked to come and collect you to prepare you for the ceremony.”

And so, without another word, I started forward for the door. Hamada stepped around me, however, and held up one of his powerful hands.

“But first,” he said, “You are required to wear this,”

Hamada lifted the other hand up and within his grip, he held a blindfold.

“Why?” I asked.

“The Elder has requested it.”

I nod and Hamada stepped close to me shortly after. He smelt so clean, and young. He had been the first man I've seen in years except for Elder Misurugi.

I felt a tickling in my lower belly, little lotus began bouncing around my insides and formed a warmth that had begun to sprout between my thighs. I have never felt this before and for a moment, I had felt like a woman instead of a captive girl.

Darkness enveloped me and left me with my fantasies of the young and strong Hamada lifting me in the air with his powerful arms and bouncing me on his-- no. He was just as insane as the rest of them.

–

By the time Hamada had ordered me to stop, my cheeks were burning and the warmth that had blossomed earlier, trailed up my spine.

Hamada released my arm and removed the blindfold.

“Are you feelng well, Tachiba? You're burning up,” he said.

“I'm fine,” I said, “Just nervous,”

“Don't be!” he replied, “Just think of the paradise that awaits you beyond this place as well as the paradise you will bring to all of us!”

Misurugi's grandson stepped aside and exposed a beautiful bathhouse. Indoors, of course, but very well decorated with scrolls and well kept wood. Each picture or word I saw described or depicted some holy scene of a God named-- Giyago. I had never heard of that name before, even with all of the books the Elder allowed me to have.

It was very warm here, warmer than I've felt in a very long time. Despite being so comfortable, I couldn't help but think of the loneliness that I still feel. I miss my family and I want to go back to them soon. Feeling this reminded me of a poem I once read,

The cry of the stag

Is so loud in the empty

Mountains that an echo

Answers him as though

It were a doe.

The only difference between me and that stag was that the stag had the ability to chase after what it wanted where I was trapped by wild dogs who simply muffled my cry.

I hadn't noticed where I was standing and because I was so caught up in remembering that poem, I stumbled forward and was caught by Hamada, His body had been warmer than the bathhouse, and despite my best efforts not to fall victim to his false embrace, I had anyway.

“Careful, lady Tachiba,” Hamada said, smiling charmingly,

It took me a moment but I collected myself from his chest.

He's evil! Just like the rest of this damned cult! I had to remember that. I needed to remain focus on my main objective, escape.

“I will be right outside the door,” Hamada said, “Call out to me if you need anything.”

So he left and I was alone to think of a way out. It hadn't taken me long to realize that there was, in fact, no way out except for the front door. I foolishly decided to accept the bath, thinking it would clear my head.

The family had given me a fresh white kimono to put on after the bath, a basket of apples and an apple slicer. Nothing else. Not a crack, a crawl space, no windows-- nothing. I wasn't strong enough to break through the wood in time either.

My body was already lightly glazed with sweat and moisture and the kimono was growing damp. I undid the ribbon in the back and let the kimono fall about my feet.

My body felt free for the first time in many years, it also felt awry at the same time. Some strange insane part of me had wished that Hamada would enter and see my body.

I digress. I stepped over the kimono and hadn't hesitated dipping my foot into the warm water, sending a welcoming chill up my cheeks. I eased the rest of my body in and laid back into the water. I look about the room again only to remind myself that there was no where to go. Instead, my sight fell onto the basket of apples, all freshly picked just for me. The steam had begun forming itself on the skin of the apple, defining its crisp skin. My mouth had begun to water and I couldn't help myself, so I snatched one from the basket and sunk my teeth into it.

At that moment, I felt chained to the pool. I released a trembling breath as I sunk my neck into the water. As my body had become use to the heat, I took the biggest bite of the apple I could manage-- careful to contain the rich juices within. Instantly, as the apple chunk slid down my throat, a wave of nostalgia washed over me; visions of my father's orchard on a hot summer's day coarsed itself through my being. I had a cup of tea in my hand, I watched my father bark orders at my brothers as they all slaved and-- played in the unrelenting sun. Mother was beside me, writing her haiku's that I never had the chance to read. Times were so simple as a girl, in fact, time didn't seem to exist at all. Now, all I can think about is how quick time can leave us, like a blossom falling from a tree. Oh, how I miss them. I can't wait to see them again-- but wait, I won't-- I'm stuck here unless I can-- escape!

My head shot out of the water and I stood up, stumblng the rest of my body out of the pool. I must have fallen asleep! How much time have I lost? No time to figure that out now.

I had to cover myself and find some way out if it wasn't too late.

I ran for the white kimono, kicking over the basket of fruits. I snatch the kimono of of its line and wrap myself tightly inside of it, the cloth seemed to cling perfectly to me and define my frame exactly as it should be. My next instinct decided to call out to Hamada. A little more panicked than I should have sounded. Instantly, he barged in, asking me if I was okay.

What now? What could I use? The apple slicer! It's in the pool! Why hadn't I thought of that first?

Hori had entered with Hamada. I had to fight my way out if I planned to escape.

“What is it, Tachiba?” Hori asked,

“Could I have lunch?” I said.

“It's near dinner and it should be ready shortly!” Hamada said, “In fact, why don't we take you to the dining hall now?”

“I'm sorry, but I need a little more time to prepare,”
“I'm afraid it's too late for that. You've been in here for four hours, lady Tachiba. We have servants who will fix you up properly.”

Hori approached me with the blindfold again and I immediately dove into the pool and retrieved the apple slicer.

“Tachiba what are you doing?” Hamada said.

Hori bent down to help me, but I seized the moment to drive the knife into the side of his neck. The blood pulsed out of his neck in rhythm with his rapidly slowing heartbeat and continued to do so until he ceased to moved in a puddle of his own blood. Hamada stood frozen, unable to act as I leaped out of the pool and out the door. I found myself in a long narrow hall and I decided to take a left, then a right, then another right, when I finally heard Hamada call,

“She's running away! Grab her!”

Within a Hayfield

"Fuck, baby, I love you so much!" She screamed.
"Does my throbbing cock feel good?" I replied.

No wonder she's so popular with all the other boys at school! She's tight as fuck and she knows just what to say!

"Bend me over, Ben. I want you in my ass."
"Fuck yeah-- okay--"

Kinky as fuck being out in a hayfield too.  I've never been with a girl as freaky as her. She'll take it any way I want to give it to her!

"First-- hey, baby, look at me-- first I want to suck your fucking hard dick-- get you all wet so you can slide inside."
"Holy fuck--" is all I could manage.

As I leaned back, she spared no time wrapping her fingers around my red, swollen penis and guiding it down her throat.

"My pussy tastes so good on you--" she said.
"Doesn't it?"

A low rattling began to sound out from some farther reach.

"Oh! Oh! Fuuuuuuck!" I cried as my cock exploded in her mouth.

I brush the rattling off as just some blood draining from my ears as I climaxed. She kept sucking and sucking and sucking-- moaning as my semen began to spill out of the sides of her mouth. As she pulled me out of her mouth, the rattling grew louder and seemed to be coming from behind her. Again, I brush it off as my senses returning as the stars explode.

"Your semen is really sweet," she whispered.

I close my eyes, trying to block out the coming head ache.  I've never had an orgasm that literally blew my mind.

Next thing I know, she starts screaming and the rattling is deafening.  I watch her as she begins to be sucked into some giant, bladed, rotating device. Aliens? No! Then I see the blood begin to spew out and practically cover me in a few seconds. I fell back and felt the roller ride over my legs before they come to a stop.

I was in shock.

"A-- harvester?" I mumble
"Oh gawd! Oh gawd!" I heard the farmer say as he stepped out of the cab.

He kept repeating himself and I started to scream finally, I couldn't feel my legs anymore and pain was absent, thankfully; I'm more so afraid of the fact that I just nearly got grinded by a harvester. I'm staring at my mangled, disembodied legs, bent in a way they should never have been bent, oozing and the toes are still-- somehow-- twitching.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Stupid fucking kids!" The farmer said again.

Next thing I know, the farmer climbs back into the cab and starts the engine. Instead of backing up he started the grinder then he-- started moving forward. The last thing I felt was one of the blades coming down on my dick then onto my waste-- then up-- up-- up.

SNUFF SNES

I love gory and scary games. Why do I mention that, you ask? It'll become clear after I've finished telling you my story. Let's just say, I never expected what I got.


I was out looking around at garage sales for old video games with my friend Devin. It was pretty slim pickings for the most part, sport games and movies is all there were to pick up. However, Devin got lucky with some antiques, but that's not really important. Well, we went to the last house of the day, an old decrepit looking thing that would probably collapse at any second. The old lady was packing up what remained of her things and was getting ready to close up for the day. Devin didn't recall seeing a sign though and stated that we should not bother her.

"Excuse me, are you selling anything?" I said, ignoring Devin.
"I was. Now I'm closing. Anything you're looking for in particular?"
"Just some old video games if you have any,"
"Yep, I've got one left as a matter of fact."


She dipped her hand into one of the boxes and withdrew a Super Nintendo cartridge. My heart sank until I saw that there was no label, just the words SNUFF written in bold black marker.

"How much?" I asked, without thinking.
"two dollars"

I nodded my head and withdrew two dollar bills from my wallet and handed them to the feeble woman.

"Look up the value for this one, Devin. I've never heard of this before."
"Gotcha. I haven't either."

After a few minutes he stated he couldn't find anything on it anywhere. So we decided to go back to his house and test it out.

Nothing happened the first few tries, but after I think the fifth, the screen flashed on. Odd, there were no company names, it just went directly into the game. No big deal, I thought.
I found my character staring at a door with two messages on the base of the screen, prompting me to go forward or backward. The weirdest part of this is that the game looks like an old nineties film instead of a game, but again, I didn't think anything of it because there was another game a lot like this one where you had to keep actual human beings alive while home invaders attempted to kill them.
Anyway, I went forward and clicked on the next prompt that said open the door, locked. So I had the option to kick or cancel so I decided to kick but a message said that it wasn't a good idea. Eventually, I figured out that i had to pick the lock and then when I was inside, I directed my character up a flight of stairs and into a bedroom. I find myself looking down at a girl and I am prompted to either kill her or back away. I try to back away and another message flashes on saying NO. I was automatically given the option to kill her with a knife or with a pillow, so I chose pillow and it said NO again. I was given only one option this time that said, "Slit her throat" so I obliged and did it. My character flipped the girl onto her back and pulled a knife from some unknown reach and slid it across the woman's throat, she tried to scream but only choked and another option popped onto the screen while the scene continued that said, "Stab her" but it clicked itself and my character began to stab her repeatedly. Normally, when somebody was murdered in a 90's movie, you can tell the blood was fake but the blood this time was very convincing. Before I could wrap my head around it, another message flashed onto the screen that read, "Go to the kid's room" and it selected itself again. My character left his knife inside of the woman and pulled a plastic bag just into frame, walked himself out of the room and began down a small hall.

"What the fuck, dude?" Devin said. "Don't go in there!"
"I'm not doing it!" I said, placing the controller on the floor.

The character opened another door and exposed an obvious young boy's room. Next thing I know, the character is dragging the child out of his bed and wrapping the bag around the boy's face as the child struggled. All we could see then was the boy's feet just in frame thrashing about and eventually stop moving.

"That's enough of this shit, this isn't right." Devin said.

I sat there in shock. This was no fucking game, this was a legitimate snuff film.

We called the police and went to the old lady's house, only to find that she had died the night we bought the game.

The Delivery

Took me long enough, but I found it. 2238 Maple Street. Would have been a lot quicker if they had managed to cut down some of the shit trailing all over the face of the house, covering the address. Way too much trouble for a small pizza and bread sticks. Anyway, I better get a damned tip from this. Rain too. Fucking hate rain.

I step out from the driver seat, into the pounding rain and go around to my back door, open it and slide out the delivery bag. I hate my job sometimes, until I get those days where I get hundreds of dollars worth of tips. Anyway, time to get this delivered, boss is probably going to chew me out when I get back to the store.

I approach a rotted, dilapidated gate and ease it open and begin up the path towards the front door. Erie as shit, that's for sure. No lights either. They probably gave up and went to bed, if so, then I'm going to eat this fucking pizza for my troubles.

I give the front door a few quick knocks, after a moment, I delivered a few more. Nobody's home? Damn it. No tip, but a free pizza? I guess I've gotta count my blessings. I turn and begin down the path again and I hear a creak from behind me.

“Is that my pizza?” a woman called.

“Uh-- yeah. Sorry I'm so late, I got a bit turned around. Haven't been out this way haha,” I reply.

“I'm sorry sweetheart, meant to get these vines cut, as much as I love 'em. You can come in if you want while I get your money, don't want you getting sick.”

She was a small, not-so-intimidating old lady so I figured, what the hell? I make my way forward again and step into the house. Cliche moth balls smell and the sudden, subconscious requirement to take my shoes off at the door. The house was pitch black, strange for an old lady who seems like she could be blown over with the slightest strong gust of wind.

She's been gone for awhile now. Is she alright?

“I'm going to leave your pizza right here on your coffee table alright? I won't charge you.” I called out,

“Oh-- honey I've fallen and I can't get up-- could you help me?”

“Of course! Where are you?”

“Back bedroom just in front of the door!”

Shit. Just my luck. Could this night get any fucking worse? Might as well go help her.

I feel across the wall for a light switch and find one, flicking it up, I find that the power is out. Perfect!

“Alright, I'm on my way!”

“Please hurry, I've got to use the bathroom so bad.”

Fuck. Me.

She better not piss or-- shit all over me when I help her up. If she does, I'll quit right on the fucking spot. I didn't sign up to be a nurse aid.

I reach the end of the hall and turn into the left bedroom, my foot meeting the bottom of hers.

“Please-- help me up honey--”

“Yep--”

I bend down and wrap my arms around her frail frame. She starts groaning and it almost forces me to drop her due to paranoia, but she was already too high up for me to drop her like a sack of bricks.

“My potty is right behind me-- in front of the nightstand-- set me up there.”

I do as instructed and without warning, she begins to shit-- signaling the fact with a loud fart and a few plops of muddy shit. She couldn't have fucking waited?

“Have a nice night, ma'am. Your pizza's right out on the coffee table,”

“Hold on-- Emily wants to play with you.”

“Emily? I'm sorry ma'am I really have to get back to the restaurant,”

“Emily! Sweetie, he's right here!”

I'm not playing with your fucking cat or dog, lady. I'm not going to spare a single moment getting out of this God forsaken house.

“I'm sorry, ma'am--”
“She'll be here in just a minute. Emily! Where are you? There you are, sweetie.”

The old woman finished emptying her bowels and though it was really dark, I could make out her smiling to something behind me.

“I have to go.” I simply said.

I turn, ignoring anything else she has to say and begin out of the bedroom. Time to leave her to her dementia or whatever--

What the fuck!

The first thing I seen was two white balls staring intently at me, they hung higher than the door too. Her figure was slender and her arms and legs were impossibly stretched and sharpened. A quick flash of lightning revealed set of long, jagged, sharp teeth that seemed to be drooling and-- where her eyes should have been-- there were just two dark holes. But what produced the pale glow? How the Hell is this even possible?

I froze as she started easing her way towards me.

“He's a nice boy, Emily. Play good with him okay?”

The shadowy figure seemed to nod, and after a long moment, she lurched forward and wrapped her arms around me and carried me quickly to some unknown reach of the house.

I was slammed down onto a cold, flat surface and, before I knew it, I felt my stomach begin to sting as her face buried into my abdomen, gnawing on my rib cage and, shortly after, my insides.

Exhaustion

     My hands are raw and every muscle aches.
     How do they expect me to work like this? This is slave labor at best.
     I use to enjoy doing this, back when I was much younger and more angry.
     Oh well, it's the only skill I possess and it pays the bills and then some.
    
     I don't have a wife anymore, or any kids. Sometimes I wish I did, but I would end up coming home and unable to unwind, probably dead of a heart attack already because of her bitching all the time.
     I wish this was still fun for me, but now it's just-- exhausting.

"No! Please!" He screamed,
"Shhh..  I need some quiet time," I said, gagging his mouth.

     I turn around and face my table of tools. I think I'll go with the chainsaw this time. The vibrations and violent shaking of the bodies usually arouses me.
     He's my last client, then I can go home, hire a wore and deal with myself. Release a bit of this exhaustion.
   

Mirror

I unlocked the bottom lock on my front door and slam through it, I stomp in and stumble over my family’s shoes and fall face first onto the floor. Snow fell from my hair and my coat, I’m so repulsive not even snows wants to stay with me. I lay there in front of the open door, sobbing heavily into the ground. I cursed and I questioned, turning the brown carpet a darker and warmer stain from my tears.

“Why me? What the fuck did I ever do to deserve this? I fucking hate this shitty planet. I hate my shitty self.” I cry vibrating the white, blank walls of my home, “Fuck!” I run my knuckles straight into the ground, feeling the…. Glorious sting and ache; so I did it again, and again, and again. I felt my right hand, middle finger break or spring, I don’t care, all I know is that the pain was worse and I loved it!

I began bashing the side of my head against the carpet, harder and harder every time, hoping soon I will either be unconscious or brain damaged. As I continued, lifting my head and heavily bringing it down with a thud, I felt a zit burst on my forehead, that makes me stop and touch it, puss and blood raced down the side of my head, only from the zit though.

“Can’t even knock my own damn self out, pathetic.” I whisper only to be answered by the February winter winds whistling over my house.

I got up steadily and made my way to my bathroom, entered and closed the door, I put down the lid and sat myself upon it; I looked up and focused on a flower that had multiple, small brown droplets dripping from its two dimensional, white pedals, we never bothered to clean that up or even guess what that was. 

I raised up, still hearing my heart pound against my chest and my brain scrunch with near insanity.

“You greasy headed in-bred mother fucker, kill your self, nobody on this fucking planet cares about you!” I shout at my reflection in the badly fingerprinted mirror. I looked myself in my wet, red eyes and watched as the blood raced down the side of my head and around each field of red and white headed blemish. 

I put the back of my hand up to the puss and blood coated wound and felt its contents layer on to my skin. I observed myself again.

“have you ever had a girlfriend? I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t.” they’d say, 
“Haha, look Ned he pissed himself!” their minions would say,
“No you pricks kicked me in the ass, as I was taking a piss.” I’d reply
“Sure Higgins, sure.” they’d laugh again, I would reply with a fist to the asshole’s temple and he’d go down, then his dumb fucks would jump on me, punch me in the balls a couple of times, then move to my gut and finally to my face and when I wanted to take a breath they dip my head in an unlashed stall toilet, forcing me to drink the urine and shit and used toilet paper.

I would walk around school for the rest of the day, with a head and breath smelling like feces.

Valentine’s day was tomorrow, and God do I want to shoot each one of those ignorant couples without a care in the world.

“Hi Clary.” I’d say
“Uh- hey Higgins.” she’d say
“I was wondering, since you have been the nicest person to me, would you go to prom with me? I mean just as friends, I don’t want anything more I promise.” I’d say again and she would giggle and look to her girlfriends around her,
“With you Higgins? I’m sorry, but I’d rather eat my own barf then to go with you, look don’t talk to me, you broke that chance long ago with that horrible body odor of yours!” she’d giggle and wander off with her friends.

I came back into this sickening reality and still felt my popped blemish, pulsate with anger and pain. I let out a cry and punch my reflection square in the nose, shattering the mirror and slicing open three of my four right hand knuckles. The blood dripped from my hand, but I didn’t squint, I laughed……. ‘that sting, it feels so good!’ I thought, out of good measure I bashed my head a single time against the wall, the spot went numb from the pulsating pain and I felt it grow just above my temple. I was light headed after that one and I stumbled over the sink.

I gathered myself and looked down at the fragments of glass lying spread out among the bathroom and the sink. I seen my reflection once more and I gritted my teeth and let out a sob that sounded almost like an insane laugh. 

I gently pick up a piece of glass and spin it around in my hand, it gleamed in the dying light bulb’s light. Its clean and straight lines were perfect.

The mirror, a thing to help ensure and improve a person’s beauty, will serve that purpose a final time before my mother scoops it all up and throws it away. I turned it so that I could see my fractured image reveal itself. My cheeks were raised into a grin and my eyes bulged with glee. I raise up the shard and I squeezed it tight feeling it open my palm’s surface.

I let the blood run down my arm and soak into my dark blue shirt and I drive the shard into the place my zit used to be, and I pull it down the left side of my face and guide it through my fresh welt. It stung beyond Hell, my body shuttered with pain as I went around my temple and just reaching my cheek, my horribly zited cheek. I screamed feeling my skin wrap tighter around the now slick glass and I felt my tears pour around and in the wounds stinging it further. I watched as the blood fell onto the dirty porcelain and over the faucet;  ‘I’ll be beautiful now.’ I think and laugh gently.

Before I could maneuver over my cheek bone, my brain pulsated again and my vision began to tunnel and then it all went black and I fell over and felt my head bounce off of the counter of the bathroom sink and the glass land on the tile with a ting.

What About Mrs. Carolina?

“So, what about Mrs. Carolina?” I asked,
“What about her?” Phil replied,
“Do we just leave her here?”
“Now why would we do that?”

Phil stood there with his arms crossed.

“I don't know, Phil.”
“Well, for fuck's sake, Pete,” he sighed as he lit a cigarette nervously, “We leave her here and then what?”
“Right. Right I get it,” I nodded, “It just seems kind of unnecessary, ya know?”
“Unnecessary? I think we're far off from the whole necessary and unnecessary thing ya think?”

Phil puffed out a breath of smoke into the stars, then stuck the cigarette back in his mouth and sucked in deeply.

“Yeah,” I said, “I guess so,”
“Besides,” he stated, “We can't just turn back now. It's way too late for that. If we do, this shit will be on our minds for the rest of our lives. We'll see Mrs. Carolina here every time we close our eyes if we don't take care of this,”
“Okay, Phil,” I said, “We'll do it.”
“Thatta' boy, Pete,” he gave me a quick pat on the shoulder and smiled, “come on. It'll be fun. Quit being so damn awkward all the time. Hell, I'll even let you have the head.”
“If you say so.”

He laughed and pat me on the shoulder again, then he took the cancer stick from his mouth and cast it onto the concrete and ground out the embers with the heel of his shoe. Then we went inside.
Mrs. Carolina knew how to decorate. Fine this, fine that-- her husband sure as shit didn't have a taste for fine things. Except, women. He knew how to pick 'em. Mrs. Carolina, with that golden hair of hers and those emerald eyes that just pierce you whenever she looks at you; and damn was she smart, I mean, she was a teacher after all. She was tough too, I like that in a woman, it gets me off when I know they can take control in an instant.
Mr. Carolina was out of town on business probably screwing an assistant in the room of some roach motel. Tonight was a perfect night for this. The kid gone. Just Mrs. Carolina.


Somewhere in the farther reaches of the house I could hear Mrs. Carolina's muffled voice speaking. Pete had her call her husband and check in. The call didn't last very long, Mr. Carolina made it brief, he probably was getting hard while a tan, young receptionist rubbed her soft hands all over him.
Pete and I turned into a hall lined with family photos and fill in photography of flowers or bees or anything nature like for that matter.

We came to a dark walnut door and Pete raised his hand in the cockiest damn way and gently knocked with that five cent grin of his. Without an answer he opened the door still holding that cheesy smirk on his face and we went in.

“Hey Mrs. Carolina,” Phil said slyly,
“Hey boys,” she said licking those cherry red lips of hers as she dropped the right side of her dress and exposed her pink, perky nipples. She stood up and let the rest of her clothing fall to the ground. Phil stepped behind her and felt her up a little and she knelt down in front of me, carefully placed her bottom on Phil's crotch and started to undo the button on my jeans,

“You still want the head right, Pete?” he said as he quickly undid his pants and shoved himself inside of her,
“Yeah, I do, Phil.”

She took me in her mouth and started to moan around me.

Writer's Block

It had been a long day at work, retail had consumed my life for the past three years, and I got home late. My fiance had long since gone to bed, so I figured I could knock some writing out before I went to bed. I went into the office and quietly closed the door and sat at my desk with overwhelming amounts of enthusiasm. I got about ten sentences into my book when a bad case of writer's block set in like rigor mortise. I sat there staring at the blinking cursor on my screen, trying to force my imagination to get up and drag itself to my fingertips, but it wasn't. So, I figured I would go check on my rat, she recently just gave birth and lost her leg so she was continuously squeaking, so I figured I would go check on her and play with her to pass the time. I played with her for a whole five minutes until she bit me hard on my finger, breaking skin, so I put her back in the cage and went to grab a band-aid, a cup of water, and check on my fiance who was still sound asleep.

I sat back down at my computer and started typing again. About twenty minutes into a nice steady session, I could hear my rat squeaking like crazy again, then eventually grew silent until the sound of dead gnawing bone started sounding out. My first idea was that my rat had been chewing on her missing leg, trying to get rid of the bone her own way, then I turned around and saw that she had-- died. She must have had an infection, I thought. Still, the bone cracking sound echoed from somewhere outside of my office. I stood up and opened the door and I saw, standing in the darkness at the kitchen sink, the shape of my fiance.

“The rat died, Katie,” I said plainly,

“I'll be in there in just a minute.” she replied, cold,

I went back into the office, sat at the chair and rolled it to our rat's cage and looked in. Her head had been twisted completely around and all seven of her babies had become pale and shriveled.

“What the fuck?” I muttered.

I was interrupted by the cracking of bones again and when I turned my head back at the doorway, a woman stood there towering over me and staring with her one and only, pale eye. The other seemed to have been gouged out and leaked blood profusely.

She was pale and clammy and twitched impossibly and rapidly. She was nude but was covered in what looked like bile that had dripped from her grinning, green mouth.

I stared at her a moment, until she lurched forward and wrapped a twitching hand around my throat, pulled me closer to her grinning face that wreaked of rot, and squeezed.

Next I heard was a crack, then I heard a collection of noises that sounded like sobbing and laughing at the same time. The thud as my vision hit the floor came shortly after.

My eyes went black momentarily and when I opened them again, I was just re-entering my apartment.

It had been a long day at work......

The Phone Call

It started when I was on the toilet, attempting to take a shit, in case you couldn't guess, and it was late or early for some. My phone read one-thirty-two in the morning and I was bone tired. I needed to use the bathroom immensely, I mean, it woke me up out of my sleep-- the toilet must have been calling to me or something.

Anyway, I turn on my phone screen and click the Google search bar and got curious about the next big PlayStation release and attempt to type out the words on my phone. I clicked the letter L and attempted to click the I, when my phone started spazzing out and typing out a whole bunch of crazy shit.

I didn't think much of the glitch, at first, I just assumed it was a virus that latched itself onto my phone from all the porn I had been watching. Not much else.

I restarted the phone and as the screen flashed on, my lock screen background had changed to a picture of me sitting on the toilet a few seconds ago. Once again, just thought it was a virus. I returned to the Google search bar and attempt to search again, the same glitch happened except this time the phone backed out of Google and turned the screen off.

“Are you fucking kidding?” I mumbled to myself.

I turned the screen back on and found that the lock screen had been changed again. The screen this time, however, had been changed into a picture of me or-- at least what I thought was me-- laying on a bed, bound by a lot of duct tape and covered in multiple stab wounds and blood. My eyes had been sunken and looked as if I was drunk.

“Holy fucking shit,” I said, my heart beginning to pound,

Suddenly, I got a phone call from some glitched out number. I hesitated, this was some straight up Creepy Pasta shit, dude, but I answered anyway.

“H—H—Hello?” I whispered into the receiver,

All that greeted me was a piercing shriek that curdled my blood. Not only had my left ear began to ring, the phone-- shocked me. Pulling it away from my face, I saw on the screen the look of a girl whose mouth was hung open wide and her empty eyes seemingly beginning to cry while the rest of her face remained still. I froze there on the spot. Fuck me! I couldn't put down the phone or anything!

“Why did he do this to me!? WHY!?” she cried,

She screamed again and I threw the phone at the bathroom door. As the screen landed face down on the tile, the light bulbs above the sink mirror burst.

As I sat there in the darkness, the girl's sobs seemed to come from right beside me then suddenly stop.

All that came after that was the large BLOOP as my shit hit the toilet bowl.