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MurderKlok Ch 1William Murderface sat stabbing idly at the arm of the couch he was seated in, watching tv. He'd always been destructive, self- or otherwise, it seems, for all of his life. Perhaps it was inherited, considering his father killed both his wife then himself in a bloody massacre, all before Murderface turned one year old. Experts said even if William had witnessed anything he was much too young to remember it.
He still had recurring, unrecallable nightmares on up into adulthood. Not every night, but it added to the idea at the back of the bassist's mind that something just wasn't right, but he never knew precisely what it was. He also seriously loathed himself (even more than anything else) and seemed to enjoy wallowing in self-pity. In frustration he jabbed the tip of his Dethknife into the fleshy part of his forearm and watched scarlet drops well forth with avid interest.
"Aww, you's g
All Hallow's Eve Ch 3Randy sighed as his companion started up his rigged-up 1983 Pontiac Grand Prix, otherwise known as the Grungemobile, and then peeled out of Jeri's driveway. The were to meet up with their other friends by morning to check on everyone's progress.
"I think you boys are going about this the wrong way," came a dusty voice. Randy jumped at the sound.
Sighing, Mike reassured him. "It's just Grampa again." The only problem with that was, his Grandpa had been dead for five years. "What do you think we're doing wrong?," the young man asked the faint, watery shape in the back seat.
"You're taking this whole thing on yourselves...you ever think that if you'd stop for a minute those other forces you keep blabbering on about might lend a hand?"
"I think he means those visions you've been having," Mike tells his friend, trying to keept he jealousy out of his voice.
"I believe She's been tryin to contact you, hasn't she?," Grampa went on. "She channels the Source and she hates the upset of the balanc
All Hallow's Eve Ch 2Two years ago even before the ruling against Halloween, the holiday was dying due to conservatives, religious fanatics, apathy, and angry parents. Gwyn's servants told him he must come see, that he would have a righteously good time--he'd been content to turn his forces loose upon the Earth and kick back, occasionally tormenting the dead lost souls of Annwn when he grew bored. He acquiesced and came bodily to Terra, something he hadn't done in eons, to see this modern world. And he was astounded; they no longer cared about the Veil between the realms or the holiday or any of the ancient sacred things.
But then again, neither were they easily frightened like the folk of pre-Dark Age Europe. The Stone Circle was lying unused and falling apart and the Lines of Power ignored and hidden under paved highways and buildings. Fascinating! His former favorite place, now known as the British Isles, was full, full, FULL of people, few of whom believed in naught but what can be seen with their own
All Hallow's Eve Ch 1"Come on, Jeri," the man called. "We're ready to go!" He was waiting in the old modified Chevy pickup with a few others from the neighborhood. They were heavily armed for an excursion, rifles, shotguns, .45's, and a couple of machetes.
"I'm coming, Chris, I'm coming," she responded, dashing out the door and down the concrete steps of the yard. She hopped in the truckbed with her 12 guage slung over her shoulder, handgun on her hip, ammo strapped across her chest. "The creatures acting up again?," she asked Dev as they sped down the lonely street.
"Yep," the red-haired man affirmed, loading up his sidearm. Jeri's good friend Chris was in the cab this time, probably a little miffed about the delay.
Before long they passed the outskirts of town, the shadows growing long with the late evening. Things had pretty much went to hell over the last year, starting with the abolishing of Halloween in every state. First, the dead began walking around.
Then there were the demons. But I digress.
After Time Unwestern Ch 1It was hot and dusty as usual when the two Strangers showed up in town. It was on the same day, about a couple of hours apart. Business was going on like normal, when the first stranger appeared.
He was riding a chestnut horse and squinting against the bright sunshine. He dismounted at the saloon (as was customary) and stood for a few moments as if surveying everything. He was somewhat tall, lean, and he walked with a slight limp. His hair was dark and he seemed young for one to receive a limp, however, spry he was. His eyes were crisp blue and they darted back and forth, taking everything in. He stepped inside the saloon.
All talking ceased as the inhabitants watched the newcomer approach the bar. Outsiders were few and far between in these parts. He ordered a shot of whiskey and quietly drank it. The bartender waited a moment, th
Son of the Dragon 1 HomecomingA rider and ridiculously small escort galloped along the road which led through the open ground and wound up before the impressive castle which was their destination. Dust kicked up from the horses' laboring hooves and was easily spotted by the perimeter guards. Word was carried quickly to the voivode currently in residence of the fortification, who was immediately assaulted with mixed feelings. "Shall we muster the garrison, Lord?," the messenger asked.
"Nay, do not," came the answer. The man rose and took a deep breath to steady himself; he wasn't a young man anymore, after all. "I know who approaches. It is my son, Vlad. Open the gates!"
The order was swiftly carried out, and tongues began to wag all through the castle. The Warlord's eldest son, Mircea, was known to currently be in Hungary raising support for his father's princedom against the Turks and the constant internal power struggles which hampered t
a dangerous hallucinationThe light coming through the window was bright,
much too bright.
Even though my eyes were closed
I could see it-
The skin of my arms prickled,
sweat dripped from my brow.
It was two in the afternoon but…
the sun was setting
through the window facing east.
I should have seen the hutch,
shelves lined with bone china
decorated with delicate leaves and vines.
I was so thirsty
and reaching for cups that should have been there.
Instead I found a billboard of butterflies,
the colors raging
more than any rainbow
I'd ever seen.
Their wings fluttered and flashed
yet somehow they moved in slow motion.
I wanted to stand,
wanted to reach out and touch them but…
I couldn't move,
and yet I laughed
ignoring my dry mouth
and the tingling in my feet.
There was a tempest
on the rise
and in my blood.
A sugar rush disguised
as a riot of butterflies
and they were swarming me.
There was a small vial
of insulin in my pocket
that I nev
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