With my heart an empty void, and my soul a desolate land. The efforts of few have begun to show. The desert land flourishes with grass and flowers as my soul is touched by the hand of someone who cares. Yes it may be small, but it belongs to me now. The real me. I run as fast as I can through the inky and barren wasteland with my demons nipping at my feet as I try to break free from their curse and enter the light. My demons, who laugh at me as I once again forget their power, suddenly erect a mighty fence between me and the land of hope. They mock me with their construction as I can still see through to the other side and touch the blades of grass growing though. I need to get over this fence. I must. It’s the only way I can be happy. Time and time again, I try to scale this barrier between myself and who I have become. I realise that I can not, because this fence is in fact what I have built myself. A perfect way to keep myself from the hate that floods into my life daily. All I can do is collapse on the floor and cry, because my future I’ve wanted all my life is just barely out of reach once again. But not all shadows are the same, some are comforting. The warm shadow of a kind soul gracefully wraps around me and pulls me to my feet. I look to the owner of it. “It’s okay. You can get through this” they say as they grab my hands through the fence. “The gate is this way. Walk by my side. I know the way.”
Spiritual enemity
She could taste the blood in her own mouth, though she was about two and half metres from the him, ‘the high priest they called him’ , to think that here, in the underworld they ought to honour him , while at school he was just the guy everyone made fun of. Mariam was sure that is what got Ben in the occult thing, in fact all of the members of SDL had a sad story , like Jane who ‘s parents are in a middle of a massive divorce ;Peter who is just not good at sport and making friends and not forgetting Keith who just lost his whole family in a car accident .She failed to understand why she was there . She had a lot of friends , was part of the cheer team ,and her parents seemed to be doing okay. She never dreamt that on her sixteenth birthday she’ll be out drinking actual human blood .She should be home celebrating with her friends.
‘Blood of purity! drink purify your souls for tomorrow is the day we will see the great master,’ Ben said walking past them and handing a golden cup to keith who was first in the line, Mariam failed to understand why they needed purifying after all they are of the kingdom of darkness. She realised that this was way too deep for her to handle , it started off as a joke and now , now they killed a person, a baby. Jake’s little brother who had been sick with flue all week. Jake offered to take him to the baby clinic and while his mom went to arrange her sisters funeral. He brought him here , because the master commanded him. She never herself was able to communicate with the master, all crews claim that they ‘ve had an encounter with him .Especially Jake who the master directed to give the blood of his little brother as a purifying sacrifice. ‘how was he going to explain it to his mother? ‘ she thought ‘drink sister drink! ‘ she awoke to the voice of their young occult leader. puzzled, she took the cup and placed it on he cherry lips, the smell alone turned her stomach ‘ I can’t , sorry but I can’t!,’ Mariam protested.’she ran as fast as she could towards the door ‘seize her!’ Bed exclaimed . Keith and Rose ran towards her, Keith grabbed her arm so tight that she felt the pain pierce through her heart , rose grabbed both his legs and tied them with the occult scarf and Ben came and blinded her with Rose’s hair band. ‘ you are a traitor of the religion , your one of themr ! Mariam kept on breathing out hard . ‘answer me!’ Bed fumed .’ for Christ sake let me go’ Mariam commanded, not realising that she was adding patrol to the fire .Rose shouted ‘blasphemy!’ the rest of the pack joined her. the pulled her using her waist bealt and brought her to the alter , Ben surrounded he tiny body with wood and the put wax all over her body…’how about a burnt offering ?’ Ben asked the pack agreed by nodding.
The Hunter Awakes (Intro to a new story of mine)
It is not often that men consider the lot of beings lesser to them.
At their peril they discount the very idea these creatures may hold knowledge they themselves lack the capacity to comprehend.
A humble fly, a pest, a spreader of disease and pestilence, the worst kind of vermin. Reviled and exterminated whenever possible. Yet even now, thousands of their number were being drawn to a place, plain to see were the night not so dark under the clouds of the coming storm, where lay one who the givers of law so fervently sought.
She lay not alone, for within the steady and dispassionate circle of light cast by the electric lamp above stood her killer and no single emotion marred his placid face.
Her remains were not fair to see. Even discounting dirt and blood, the signs of hard use by hand and blade were upon her cold flesh. Had her spirit lingered, as perhaps it did, she would have witnessed the true wakening of that which had slept for long ages past.
Her killer spoke, though to whom it could not be said for he was alone in that lighted circle with only the departed dead.
Had her eyes still seen, as indeed from beyond they might, she would have seen the shaking of his hands, the primal fear belied by his dead eyes and unmoving expression as the blade which had stolen her life was drawn once more from its hiding place upon his person.
Had she been able to hear, and in truth she must have as all the dead do when they are spoken of, bitter would have been her tears to hear his stumbling words of supplication. No laments for her forgiveness, not entreaties to stave her wrath, none even to wish her a graceful rest in the life beyond. No, only worshipful mutterings in some ancient and nonsensical tongue passed his lips.
Up came the blade, and well may she have run, remembering its deadly touch. To heart, to lips he held it, swearing that which should never be sworn. Stillness, absolute and infinite settled. No creature born of night dared give voice. Even the masses of flies stilled, their innumerable wings held as a man would hold his breath.
On and on he spoke, making promises and bartering the tangible and intangible essences of his being and hers to the silence… until…
No sound changed, no great lights broke in the sky, no flicker marred the heartlessly efficient circle of light, no shadow moved, and yet within the circle he stood alone no more.
Eyes were on him, older and darker than those of his departed victim, unseen but felt unto the dregs of his soul. Smells assaulted his nostrils, rain, smoke, fresh turned earth… and blood.
He knew what he had woken, primal and ancient, born of the sacred blade first christened by his own willing blood… and then the blood of prey.
Twice before and now, the final time, he’d heeded the whispers seeping from the shadows, their promises ambrosia to an ashen heart. He felt no remorse for he was pure, and he was blameless. He’d hunted and sacrificed as was demanded, as men had done since the first days, no crime at all compared to what was to be gained.
From the first it had shielded him, showing him what paths to walk, where to sleep and when to flee, and when to take his prey all unawares. The givers of men’s laws were far from him, walking different paths and serving different powers. They could not touch him.
He shuddered as that which he had woken regarded him, coldly assessing its servant.
He’d sworn, he’d sacrificed, yet even now his acceptance into its embrace was not assured. It would brook no weakness, no frailties, no hesitation.
Moments wore on. Each a searing eternity under its scrutiny…
And then it spoke for only him to hear
“Yes…â€
Lightning split the black sky and all sound returned in a rushing wave, the legion of flies burst their ranks asunder even as glass rained from the shattered lamp. They would not touch this meat, this prey. It belonged to the oldest of things now, woken from its slumber and returned to a world it had long since abandoned.
And in the darkness as the first rain fell, he laughed.
(Written to set the tone and scene for my main antagonist)
My Death
The chains rattle amusingly as I desperately try to free myself. Fear creeps up and down my spine. I look up from the cement straight into the thousands of familiar eyes. The different shades of green, brown, grey and blue burn into my skull, all of them filled with hatred and judgment. I pull harder at the thick chains and I can feel them cutting into my sore wrists. Over and over, I try to escape the angry chains, but their grip on my wrists never loosens. I fall hopelessly down to my knees and cover my eyes in shame. Tears stain my cheeks and I can feel the disgust of the audience folding around me, covering every part of me like a heavy blanket. Their whispers are barely audible.
“It is her fault.â€
“She deserves what she is about to get.â€
“No punishment is enough justice for what she did.â€
I hear his footsteps coming closer and stopping right in front of me. I remove my hands from my tear-stained face and look into his cold dark eyes. He grabs my forearms and yanks me up from the ground onto my feet. My entire body starts to shake under his judgmental eyes. He spits in my face and let me go so suddenly that I almost fall back down, but I manage to maintain my balance. I swiftly rub the wet fluid off of my face. From his pocket he pulls a large knife that eagerly glistens in the light of the full moon. Silence fills the air and everyone, including me, is staring at the proud knife.
In one split second I feel the knife sliding into the soft flesh right above my heart. Shock races through my body and leaves me momentarily numb to the inexplicable pain. The knife twists and cuts a neat round circle around my heart. The pain comes through and I scream. I grab the place where the knife was. Blood crawls through my fingers and flows down the length of my body to the ground. My hands fall to my sides. I briefly notice the audience is still deathly silent. I stare into his eyes. His big hand reaches for my chest and his fingers glides into the open cuts. They reach my heart and rip it out of my chest. I look at the beating heart in his hand. It is still alive. My hands reach for my chest once again and feel the big empty hole. Suddenly the crowd starts to go wild. I hear the thousands of familiar laughter and the deafening applause.
My legs give in and I fall to my knees into the pool of blood. The red fluid spatters all over my body. He throws my heart on the floor in front of me. It is still beating. It still has not died. The smell of gasoline fills the air as he pours it onto my poor heart. I try desperately to contain my tears, but it escapes and drips into my blood. The end of his newly lit cigarette glows teasingly at me. His two fingers open and it falls willingly onto the soaked beating heart. A blue flame rises so high and quickly that I fall backwards. I stare at the scene in front of me, whilst the fire eagerly eats at my heart. Its beat fades until it completely disappears. I stare at it until it is only a pile of ashes staring back at me.. The audience comes into hearing again, still happily applauding this horrifying event. He kneels down in front of me. His hand lifts the blood-stained knife and slides it across my neck. I can feel my neck getting wet and I look up one last time. I look straight into my father’s eyes, burning with pleasure and satisfaction. Surrounded by smiles, I feel the life leaving my body and darkness devours me.
What i wish to be
i wish to be a whore of horror and gore
where no priest or saint can save me
my legs apart, i’m aching to start
im naked and waiting.
I would reek of cum in the dining halls
my tits always on display
at a glance you would feel repelled
and in disgust you would look away.
my sheets will be soiled with semen and shit
my skin blistered and sore
but nothing will compare to the open scabs
lining the frame of my door.
there is no lock so any swinging cock is able to come in
have his way
jiz and pray
that he doesnt catch anything
but pray in vane you will my boy
i will not leave you without a sore
my cunt enjoys this game you see
and looks forward to more..