The strange mind of a writer

https://twitter.com/KyleTrojanMurph I write things. Scary things. Weird things. Wonderful things. Unless you hate them. Unedited first drafts live here.

[kyletrojanmurphy]

A Christmas horror story

[kyletrojanmurphy]

When horror writers get bored...

[kyletrojanmurphy]

Headache

When she woke up from her nap, her headache was still pounding. She walked into the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. The image of a 43 year old woman looked back at her. The pain was right in the front of her skull, almost behind her eyes. A sore throat, an upset stomach, she was fine with these. A headache however was just too much for her to deal with. She turned on the tap and let the water flow into the sink, filling it up as the water was getting hotter. Once steam started to fog the image in the mirror, she stuck her hands in the hot water and scrubbed them clean. When her hands felt ready, she turned off the water. She wiped the steam from the mirror and looked at herself again. Then she started. Her fingernails sliced the through skin on her head. Blood poured from the wound onto the sink and floor. There was a cracking sound as he fingers broke through bone. She pulled two chunks of skull from her head and carefully placed them in the bloody hot water in the sink. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as her fingers ripped and squished through brain, until she found the bit where the headache was. One quick pull was all it took. She looked down at her hand and at the offending bit of brain between her fingers. She left the bathroom and walked towards the kitchen. She dropped the bit of brain that she was carrying into the dog's dish. Her sons were playing video games on the couch in the living room. They had been playing some first person shoot game for about an hour. She walked up behind the two of them and paused. Then she grabbed her older son by the hair and dug her fingers into his head. There was a popping sound as she pulled a small bit of his brain from his head. He slumped over, still playing his game. His younger brother looked at him and laughed. She walked back into the bathroom, and placed the small chunk of her son's brain into her head. She carefully took the two pieces of her skull from the sink, and dried them off. Then she placed them back in her head where they fit perfectly. She took out a tube of super glue and glued the flaps of forehead skin back in place. Her head felt much better. Her headache was gone. "This is why I had kids." She thought to herself. The dog stood over his food dish. He was gong to say that he wasn't going to eat this, staring at the chunk of brain mixing into his kibble, but dogs can't talk, so he didn't.

[kyletrojanmurphy]

Just wondering

I wonder if vampires and werewolves look at zombies the same way we look at expired milk?

[kyletrojanmurphy]

Mother's Day

He looked at himself in the mirror. Every year since he was 20, Bill had followed the same ritual on this day. He would sneak off into his attic when his wife was at work and his kids were in school, so that he could be alone. He knew what he was doing was weird. He didn't want to be judged by his family. Bill stripped naked, and stood I front of the dusty full length mirror. Bill had been an athlete all through high school and university. He had always been proud of his physique. True, he wasn't as fit anymore, being a man of 50, but he ate right, and tried to stay active. Blowing out his knee by slipping on the ice a few years ago had taken a toll on him however. His stomach was starting to show a few layers of fat. Bill reached down and pinched the fat. Inside a locked trunk behind the mirror, Bill carefully took out a package, wrapped in sheets. Opening it up he smiled. Memories of his childhood came back to him. Bill never knew his father. He had died in a car crash before he was born. Bill was raised by his mother. She died when he was 19, but for those 19 years of his life, she taught him about the world. She bought him books, took him on trips around the country, made sure that he got to do everything that all the other children his age did. Bill's mother was a good mother, and he loved her very much. Her death hit him pretty hard, but Bill found a way to move on with life. Bill held up the contents of the package. Carefully, he slipped his foot into the opening on the one leg. There were zippers and thread that he had to navigate to get the suit fully on. Bill glanced in the mirror to make sure everything was in place. This part always made him feel weird. It seemed wrong, looking at his reflection when he had the suit on, but not the dress. He found it sort of creepy. After a few minutes, and a few awkward moments of sucking in his breath and stomach to adjust what needed to be adjusted, Bill was relieved to see that he could still fit in it. He put on the short brown bob cut wig, trying to get the hair just right. Then he slipped into the powder blue dress. Bill stood in front of the mirror and looked at the reflection. "I'm proud of you Billy." He said in his best female sounding voice. "You have a beautiful family, a good job, and are everything a mother could want." Billy smiled. He took off the wig, and tucked it away in the trunk, along with the powder blue dress his mother always wore. He had folded them neatly, just like his mother taught him. Then he cautiously started to take off the suit, careful not to rip it or stretch it out anymore than he already had. Bill folded the suit up, and placed it on top of the wig and dress. He closed the trunk, and made sure to lock it. Bill started to get dressed in his own clothes. He knew that sooner or later he would have to stop his annual ritual. He was getting older, and he knew that eventually he would be too fat to fit in the suit. He didn't want to dress up in his mothers skin and clothing only to see a fat version of her looking back at him. It was already a little weird seeing her face looking back at him in the mirror with a bit of a pot belly. He'd feel horrible too if he accidentally ripped her. As Bill climbed down the attic stairs, he wondered if he should get her skin stuffed? No, not yet he decided. He wanted one more year of squeezing inside of her. He could decide this next year. Bill smiled. It was nice to see his mother on Mother's Day, even if only for a short while.

[kyletrojanmurphy]

The Desperation of a Chocolate Cake, or The uselessness of a Cat. Lo, I starve.

[kyletrojanmurphy]

Chocolate bunny

First I ate it’s tail… Then I ate it’s eyes… I didn’t chew, I just let them dissolve in my mouth. Then I ate it’s feet and nose, leaving it’s ears for the last. I wanted it to be able to hear itself screaming the whole time.

Happy Easter.

[kyletrojanmurphy]

A dream I had

Just woke up from a nap. Had a dream. It was night time, and I was in a long dirty hallway. The walls were smoke damaged, the floor was muddy and wet, and there was just enough lights from the windows to see that the hallway was full of men and women, all between their late teens to late 60s. All of them were standing, facing the walls with their heads pressed against the walls. White people, black people, Asian people. All in greasy blue jeans and dirty white t shirts. None of them were wearing any shoes. All of a sudden they started to bang their heads against the wall, and started moaning and wailing, and speaking gibberish. Saying things like "and that is when the worms fell out of her ears." "but mommy says it is fire time." "there's the yellow pants, yellow pants yellow pants" "it won't stop". A door at the end of the hallway opened up. I immediately sat cross legged on the dirty ground. All of the people against the walls started screaming and smashing their heads against the wall. A little girl in a dusty white dress with a bow around her hips climbed up the wall, and started climbing on the ceiling. She moved wrong though. Her arms and legs moved more like an animal would than a crawling person's would. She stopped right above me and looked down at me. Her mouth was sewn shut. She bent her arm in a weird way and pulled the thread out of her lips. Her teeth were black and stained. I looked back at the doorway where she came from, and there was a man standing there, but I couldn't make out any details about him. The light behind him was too bright. All the people stopped slamming their heads against the wall and turned to look at me. The girl in the dusty dress said to me in a voice that sounded like glass being ground up in metal "he wants you to write this down" All of the people started to scream, and it got louder and louder. I closed my eyes and started to stand up when it got quiet. I looked around and it was dark. I could just almost make out the image of the people in the hallway standing back facing the walls, with their heads pressed against them. I looked up at the wall, and the girl in the dusty dress was gone. I turned around and she was right in my face screaming "wake up and write this down!"

[kyletrojanmurphy]

Aw, kitty!

[kyletrojanmurphy]

Zombie B.C.

Playing around on Twitter I discovered a neat little comic book idea. A zombie comic book. Now if you are anything like me, you are sick to death of zombies. You are done with them. You might even go so far as to say that zombies have become the Nickelback of horror. I'd agree with you (although comparing zombies to Nickelback seems a little harsh) on this. Then I discovered Stephen Volt and his 'Zombie B.C.', a book about zombies vs cavemen. ZOMBIES VS CAVEMEN! After talking with Stephen about his little project, and (im)patiently waiting for this comic book to come out I finally got a copy yesterday. It is fantastic. I'm a big reader, the type who always has a book with them (thanks to my iPhone and a few apps, unless I am in the shower I literally always have a book with me now). I'm not a snob in what I read. Giant novel, small novella, comic books, a good story is a good story. This is a good story. At no point does it turn preachy, blaming terrorists, government, or science for a zombie outbreak. No misguided smelly hippies have broken into a lab and accidentally released a cage full of infected monkeys. This was nice. The story is simple, and almost leaves you feeling like you need more. The story fits so well with the art, that the idea flows in a fulfilling way. Less is more.

I was very happy with 'Zombie B.C.'. I don't want to give too much away about what happens, there are some interesting twists. I will say that this story could have fit nicely in an old issue of the 'Tales From The Crypt' comic. Bottom line is that if you want a pure fun story, a quick light read that is all action and splattered brains on a cave wall, this is a comic book to check out. Good story, good art, good times. Check out the 'Zombie B.C.' Facebook page for more information https://www.facebook.com/ZombieBc

[kyletrojanmurphy]

The giant eyeball

William woke up, much like he did every morning, in a foul mood. His alarm clock would be going of in about two minutes. He hated waking up before he had to be awake, even if it was by only a few minutes. He also hated being ripped from his sleep by the sound of his alarm. Basically William just hated being awake. When he was awake he knew that eventually he would be forced to interact with people, and if there was one thing that William hated more than waking up before his alarm when off, and being woken up by his alarm, it was interacting with people. William hated people. He decided to turn off his alarm before it went off, and wandered into his bathroom. William stood naked before his mirror and looked at himself. The reflection looking back at him was of a balding 40 year old man with a junk food gut, who was in need of a shave. William scratched at his hairy balls and sniffed his fingers, deciding by the smell that he didn't need to shower yet today. A nice not too subtle stink meant that people wouldn't sit beside him on the streetcar. William smiled, then sat on the toilet to take a bloody and painful shit. After a few minutes of groaning and cursing, William wiped and flushed the toilet, watching everything get flushed away. The smell in the bathroom made him happy. Returning to his bedroom, William slipped on a pair of crunchy socks, the same greasy undies that he had been wearing all week, and an even greasier pair of baggy jeans. A faded 'Sam the Record Man' t-shirt completed his outfit. A grumble in his stomach signalled that it was time for some breakfast, so William wandered off to his tiny kitchen. Turning on the kitchen light, he watched as various cockroaches scattered. William picked his nose, and wiped his hand on his jeans, then spat in his sink. Breakfast consisted of two slices of slightly burnt toast with some raspberry spread packets that William had taken from a restaurant that was around the corner from his apartment. This was washed down with a big room temperature glass of water. William spotted a cockroach hiding under an old grocery store flyer from last week. He slammed his fist down, crushing it under a photo of bananas that were on sale for 39 cents each. Peeling the flyer off of his table William looked closer to inspect the squashed bug. He sniffed the bug guts on the old flyer, then stuck his finger into the rest of the bug guts on the table. William let out a happy grunt, sniffed his finger, then wiped the bug's guts on his jeans. With a sigh William pulled on his dirty tennis shoes, grabbed his keys and headed out to glair at the early morning commuters. Standing at the streetcar stop, William's right eye started to bother him a bit. He rubbed it and blinked a few times. His streetcar pulled up and William got on, paid his fare and sat in the back, glaring at anyone who looked like they might sit near him. William arrived at the flea market that he worked at, selling junk to people that he considered idiots. The old Asian woman who sold rabbits a few booths down from him grunted at him as she walked past him to set up her own stall. William replied with a dismissive snort. Neither of them being particularly friendly ever said much at all to each other. This suited William fine. A few seconds later the old Asian woman's head appeared from the wall dividing her stall from his. "Hey. What wrong with your eye?" she asked him. "What? Nothin'. Go away." he said. And she did. For a few minutes anyway. Then her head appeared again in the same spot. She stood there looking at him. William ignored her for a few seconds, then quickly shot her a frown. Her eyes widened, and she disappeared back to her stall. A few hours passed, and William hadn't sold a single piece of crap from his junk pile. People would walk up, look at a few things, give him a quizzical look and hurry off. William started to wonder if maybe he should have showered just a little bit this morning. Maybe his subtle smell was a little stronger than he thought it was. The old Asian lady poked her head from around the stall wall again. "Hey. What wrong with your eye!" she demanded. William picked his nose and flicked a crusty booger at her by way of an answer. She curled her lip at him and called him a disgusting fool. At 4pm William decided to close up his stall and go home. His eye was bothering him and he hadn't sold anything. It was time to eat a can of soup and watch whatever he could pull in on the rabbit ears of his old television. He pulled the tarp across his stall, and tied it to the wall. Turning around he noticed the old Asian lady standing right next to him. "Shut up. You no flick nose snot at me! What wrong with your eye! Why it so big and red!" She demanded again. "Nothin' is wrong with it! Get away from me you old hag!" He shouted at her. She grabbed his neck with surprisingly strong fingers, and pulled his face down so that she could look at his eye closer. They stared at each other, wide eyed. She because of the size and redness of his right eye confused her, he because his swollen eye had a difficult time closing. She let him go and said something in an Asian language that William didn't understand while reaching into her pocket. William took this instant to bolt. "You come back here! Where you run? Ugh, Smelly Man!" She said as William dashed off. The streetcar ride back to William's apartment was a little odd. The TTC driver asked him if he was doing okay, and he kept catching people staring at him. When he looked back at them they gaped and looked out the window. William arrived at his building, and ran up the stairs. The first place he went to when he got to his apartment was the bathroom, to look at his eye in the mirror. To his astonishment and horror, it was now bright red and it looked like it was almost twice it's normal size. William splashed some sink water on it, and decided to skip his soup and just go straight to bed. The next morning, William woke up about 3 hours before his alarm clock went off. His right eye was open, and he couldn't seem to close it. William stumbled to the bathroom in the dark. Turning on the bathroom light, William got quite the shock when he looked in the bathroom mirror. His right eye had grown to almost the size of a tennis ball. William let out a gasp, and quickly splashed some tap water on it. The water felt cool and good. William looked in the bathroom mirror again in disbelief. What was wrong with his eye? He tried to close his eye with no luck. He tried to force his eyelids shut with his fingers. No luck at all. William quickly got dressed, grabbed a pair of sunglasses to hide his freakishly large eye and headed out the door. He knew he needed to get to a hospital and have it checked out. A ten minute walk later, and William found himself trying to convince the night nurse at the front desk that he wasn't a junkie and that he didn't shoot anything up into his eye. He was told to take a seat, and the next available doctor would see him. William sat uncomfortably on an orange plastic chair. Sitting across from him was a homeless man. "Hey. Hey you!" whispered the homeless man "What you wearing those sunglasses for? You a vampire or somethin'?" William ignored him, and pretended to read a 3 day old newspaper that was sitting on the chair beside him. The homeless man sat a little closer to him. "Hey. Hey you!" He said again, looking around to make sure no one was listening in on them. "Them sunglasses don't sit right on you. They on an angle." William smiled. He knew people were freaked out by his giant eye, so he pulled his sunglasses down just enough for the homeless man to get a good look. The homeless man didn't react the way William had hoped. Instead of jumping back and leaving him alone, the homeless man poked William in the eye. "Hey, what the heck do you think you are doing?" William said, jutting his head back. The homeless man just looked at him, nodded his head knowingly. "Yep. Yep." he said to William. "I seen this before. You know how they treat this? You know what they do? They take a sharp scalpel and cut your eye. Yep. They cut it, and they drain all the puss out of it. Then they give you eye stitches. They drain the puss into a little cup, but they don't let you take it home with you, you know? I seen someone once... Hey, where you going?" William was up and out of the hospital doors in a flash. William hated knives and needles and the thought of a doctor cutting into his eye was just too much for him to deal with. He had no idea what he was going to do, but he knew that whatever he did, it wasn't going to involve a knife or a needle to the eye. William slowly walked back to his apartment building. His neck was starting to get sore. The weight of his ever growing right eye was starting to strain his neck muscles. William decided when he got home to try to sleep a bit more, and placed a wet cloth on his eye to keep it moist as he lay on his bed fully clothed, willing himself to sleep. An hour passed and his alarm went off. William sat bolt upright, and then promptly fell over. His eye was now the size of a fully inflated beach ball. He screamed in frustration. After a few attempts to get up, William found that if he leaned back, and braced himself against the wall, he could manage to walk. William left his apartment, and almost fell down the stairs trying to get to the front door. Once he was outside, he slowly and carefully walked around to the back of his building where he knew that there would be a few old discarded shopping carts. He leaned against a chain link fence, and carefully balanced his eye in the shopping cart. With his head down, and his eye in the cart, William found it easier to walk around. He decided to go to a drugmart and see if he could get any antibiotics or something to help his eye. Walking down the street, people pointed and wondered about him. Was this some sort of street art? Was it some weird promotion for a movie? Was he just a nut? The shopping cart got heavier and heavier as his eye grew bigger. By the time that William got to the drugmart, his eye had grown to the size of a Volkswagen bug, and the shopping cart was under considerable stress. His eye had warped it and bent it all out of shape. It dawned on William that his eye was now too big for him to fit through the door. Horror struck him, as he realized that this meant that there was no way that his eye would fit through his own door, and that there was no way that he could get back into his apartment. A crowd formed around him. People took photographs. "Go away!" William shouted at everyone. Suddenly he felt a jolt of pain in his eye. Great throbbing pain. William began to scream as his eye started to grow larger and larger. The crowd gasped in awe. Williams eye grew to the size of a Sperm Whale. The pain was immense. Between his screams, William heard a familiar voice. "Move! Get out of way! Ugly girl, move giant ass! I help!" Shoving her way through the crowd was the little old Asian lady from the stall next to his in the flea market. She stood in front of William, looking directly into his giant eye. She pulled out a pin from her pocket. "No! Please don't!" Screamed William. "I help!" Yelled the old Asian lady. There was a loud pop. William's eye exploded. Yellow evil smelling puss flew everywhere. It got into the hair, the clothing and the mouths of the crowd. People started vomiting everywhere. Puss mixed with vomit and clogged up the city sewers. It was horrible. The old Asian lady wiped the sticky puss off of her face. She lit up a cigarette. Looking down at William, who was in the fetal position on the floor, she inhaled, then blew smoke in William's face. "Smelly Man. You need take bath." she said, as she walked off. The end. OR... William screamed as his eyeball exploded, sending liquid everywhere, soaking the crowed. The old Asian Lady picked something up from the ground, and handed it to William. A baby boy. The umbilical cord went from the baby's belly and into William's eye socket. "Smelly Man. You need take bath. You a father now." she said as she walked off. The end. OR... William screamed as his eyeball kept growing and growing. It started knocking over buildings, crushing everything in it's path. An emergency call was made to NATO. A fighter jet was dispatched, and within a few minutes it had William's giant eye in it's sights. A giant explosion. William's giant eye was defeated, but at a cost. More than half of Toronto was destroyed. In an undetected flying saucer, the Martians swore in their Martian language. Their nefarious plan to destroy the humans had failed. These humans might be a worthy foe after all. The end.

[kyletrojanmurphy]

The Ace Face (Pie Time!)

I had a dream, where each side of my head grew another complete face. The face on the left side of my head talked utter nonsense. The face on the back of my head screamed all of the time. The face on top of my head just laughed. The face on the right side of my head was the worst of them all. It never said anything. It just watched everything, in horrible, horrible silence. I woke up sitting in my chair when I heard a loud scream. A monster movie was playing on the television. I guess I had fallen asleep watching the news, and this came on. That would explain the weird dream. I clicked off the television, stood up and stretched. I was craving my bed and a good nights sleep when I heard another scream. This time it came from behind me. I damn near shit myself as I quickly spun around, ready to grab whatever was behind me. Nothing. Nothing at all. Just my empty kitchen. Then another scream behind me. I turned again to face an empty living room. "What the fuck?" I said, more than a little unnerved. "It's all in the socks. Hotdogs are the new Melbourne symphony organs tar." a voice said to the left of me. "Who are you?" I demanded as I turned and saw nothing. "Where the fuck are you?" I backed up against a wall and turned on the light. I felt violated. Someone was in my apartment, and they were fucking with me. Then I heard another scream. "Don't interrupt feet cake!" said the voice. This was followed by a laugh above me. I looked up and didn't see anything. "Who are you? What do you want from me?" I said to the empty room. I've seen enough bad television to know that you are supposed to ask a ghost what it wants. Clearly my place was being haunted. Either that or I was the butt of some amazing practical joke, but I didn't think any of my friends had the skill to pull off something this elaborate. Laughter. Then a scream. Then the voice said that the couch was on fire and something about peanut butter. I ran my hand through my hair, and I felt something lick my fingers. "The hell?" I said, turning once again. Nothing there. I put my hand back up to feel the back of my head again, and felt something start to suck my fingers. When I pulled them away in shock the screaming started again. I ran into the bathroom to see if I could catch a glimpse at whatever was on the back of my head using the mirrors. Turning on the light, I saw them in my reflection. "Get down with the walrus! Pie time!" said the voice, followed by more laughter, and more screaming. My apartment wasn't haunted. This wasn't a prank. The faces from my dream, they were real. I turned my head so that I could see the face on the left side of my head. It made a cooing noise and told me that meat hangs from the down low. The face on top of my head just laughed. I turned to look at the face on my right side. It didn't say anything. I caught it looking me directly in the eyes from the reflection. It scared the ever loving Hell out of me. I don't know what it was about it, but I knew that it's silence meant something. I didn't bother to check the face on the back of my head. I didn't want to see it screaming. All the faces were my own face. They were all mine. I realized that the laughter was my laugh, the scream was my scream, and the voice saying mad nothings was my own voice. All coming from the mouths on each face. In shock, I sat on the toilet. I wondered if I had gone mad. Maybe I was drugged? This couldn't be real. This can't be happening. People don't just suddenly grow extra faces. "It is like Viagra for the soul! You have to clean it with support from the army. But not the French one." Said the face on my left side. "Shut up!" I snapped at it. "Your mother enjoys eating apples!" It said. Then there was a scream and some more laughter. I didn't know what to do. Should I call someone? Who would I call? What would I say? I must be drugged. Something happened, maybe something was spilled on the Chinese food that I ordered. That had to be it. As freaked out as I was, I felt a bit calmer having convinced myself that this was a bad trip, that I was hallucinating. I decided that the best thing that I could do was take a few sleeping pills and try to sleep this off. I've never been stoned before so I figured this would work. At the very least it would shut up the extra faces. The weird babble from the left side face I could deal with, but the screaming face on huge back of my head, and the laughter from the face on top of my head, well it was getting annoying. I took the sleeping pills and a sip of water from the bathroom sink. When I had bent down to take a sip from the tap the face on top of my head saw it's reflection in the mirror and started to laugh again. I stormed out of the bathroom and went down the hallway to my bedroom. "It melts your teeth and tickles your balls!" Said the face on my left. "Shut up" I said. I quickly got undressed to the laughter and screams of the other faces. I will admit, having faces that looked like my face laugh and scream at my naked body was sort of a blow to my ego. I climbed into bed and the face on the back of my head started to scream even more. "Oh shut up already!" I said to it as I lay down and closed my eyes. The face on top of my head laughed hysterically. I could hear the muffled screams of the face on the back of my head through the pillow. I'm not sure how long this went on for, because eventually I managed to fall asleep. Thank God for those sleeping pills. I woke up in the late afternoon. The sunlight greeted me like a slap to the face. I had a headache. I also needed to pee, so I made my way to the bathroom, flicking on the light as I wandered in to pee. "Don't let mom catch you doing this." said the face on my left side. "Damn it" I said to myself. "I forgot about you guys. I thought you were a dream!" Laughter came from the face on the top of my head. I flushed the toilet, trying to decide what to do next. "Bacon's best friend is a girl named Sue. She lives on the hill under the hole with the yellow that is really blue." Said the face on the left. Laughter came from the face on top of my head. Something was wrong. It occurred to me that I hadn't heard any screaming yet. I touched the back of my head, felt the face there. It didn't try to suck my fingers. It's lips were open and it's dry tongue was hanging out. I grabbed my shaving mirror and angled it with the mirror on the wall so I could see what was wrong with that face. I gasped. It's eyes were rolled into the back of their sockets. It wasn't screaming because it had died last night. I had suffocated it while I had slept. I sat on the floor and sobbed into my knees. I had killed it. I've never killed anything before. Yet last night I killed another human being. "Brass balls have ants crawling over them." Said the left side face. Okay, maybe I haven't exactly killed a human being last night. I accidentally suffocated a face on my head. An annoying screaming face. I'm pretty sure I couldn't go to prison for that. I wiped the snot from my nose, and decided to have a shower. I still had a headache and felt kind of sick, but maybe a shower would clear my head and let me be able to figure out what to do next. I caught a glimpse of the face on the right side of my head, glaring at me from the mirror. I touched it with my fingers, and that just made it seem to glare even harder. In the shower I felt a bit better. The hot water felt good on my skin and helped me to relax a bit. The face on the left of my head actually started singing some made up song about bricks and oranges and anal bleaching. I couldn't help but laugh at it. I turned off the hot water and started to towel off. I looked at myself in the mirror again. That was when I noticed it. No laughter. I tilted my head down so that I could see the face on the top of my head. It was dead. It drowned in the shower. I'd accidentally killed again! I decided to quickly get dressed and take the subway to the hospital. I put on a hoodie to hide the extra faces, yet still allow them to breathe. I ran out of my building and down the subway entrance around the corner. I could hear the face on the left of my head talking about the wolves peeing on things. I waited on the platform for the subway. There was a group of construction workers on break standing around a wall that they were fixing drinking coffee. "You look like my little sister!" said the face on my left side. "What was that?" one of them said. They all got quiet and looked at me. "Sorry, Bluetooth. Talking to my cousin" I quickly lied, praying that they bought it. The last thing I needed was for them to kick the crap out of me over something this face said. "Just a bunch of kitten fisters!" said the face. The construction workers stared at me. I quickly put my left hand over the left side face's mouth, trying to shut it up. "You got a problem buddy?" One of them asked me. "Nope, no problem at all. Turning off the Bluetooth right now." I said. I could feel the left side face trying to speak under my hand. It bit me. Hard. "Mother fucker!" I yelled out. "And that is why dogs try to lick peanut butter off your balls!" screamed the left side face. I clamped my hand around it's mouth again. "Okay, that's it!" Said the construction worker taking off his orange vest. "Sorry! Sorry! I'm gone!" I said as I rushed back up the subway stairs and around the block. I admit it, I'm a coward. A tiny tiny coward. I waited a few moments to see if the construction worker had followed me. As soon as I was sure it was safe, I decided to go back to my apartment. I needed a bandaid anyway, my hand was bleeding where the left side face had bitten it. "You stupid fucking face!" I said as I walked up to my door. There was a note tapped to it from another tenant suggesting I lower the volume on my television. Evidently they thought all the screams and laughter from last night was a show on full volume. I grabbed it and slammed the door behind me and made my way to the bathroom to clean and bandage my hand. I washed my hand off, and got some gauze out. "You idiot face..." I started to say, when I noticed in the mirror that it was dead too. I guess it couldn't breathe enough in the hoodie with my hand clamped over it's mouth. I now had three dead faces on my head. I turned to look at the right side face, the silent face, to make sure that it was still alive. It looked back at me in the mirror and smiled. I had never seen it smile before. It freaked me out. My headache suddenly became much much worse. The pain was immense. It was a splitting headache. Literally. I fell to the floor, unable to stand. All I could see was flashes of bright red. I could hear a tearing noise. I wanted to scream the pain was so great. Maybe I did. I felt like I was being ripped in two. Funny story, because I was actually being ripped in two. I could see the right side face pulling itself away from me. Bits of stringy flesh and guts and blood were everywhere. The right side face stood up, and looked down at me. It was me. A fully formed me. It had my right boot on, and part of my pants and hoodie hung from it. It took the ripped up remains of my clothing off of it and climbed into my shower. I lay there on the floor. What was left of me. I could feel my one lung filling with blood. The pain in my body actually started to tickle. I wanted to scream. I wanted to laugh. If I could talk, if I could shout, would what came out of my mouth be nonsense? I only had half a body, half a mind. I was pretty sure that my mind had snapped. I was pretty sure fire tasted like jazz. The right side face climbed out of my shower. He was fully formed and clean. His skin was pink from the hot shower. He looked at me, and then left the bathroom. I wondered if snails ever farted? A few moments later the right side face came back. He looked at me again, and smiled. "I'm going to go fuck your girlfriend now." He told me, matter of factly. Then he stomped on my half a skull, killing me. Woah... I'm dead!

[kyletrojanmurphy]

You Can't Throw A Bible Without Hitting Jesus In The Face (various chapters of, unedited)

When Jesus Christ came back, many people were happy. Some were angry. Quite a few were scared. It made all the newspapers. It was covered on the radio and television. The internet exploded with #JesusIsBack postings.

He didn’t speak much. Maybe not at all, I don’t really remember. People would walk up to him and ask him a question, and he would just smile. That is it. Truth be told it was sort of annoying.

Then the reports started coming in about Jesus being in another city at the same time he was in this one. The skeptics balked, asking how could Jesus be physically in two places at once? The faithful decided that Jesus was the son of God, and therefore he could easily be in two places at once. They said he could be in 10 places at once if he wanted. Funny thing about that was the next day, when a third city reported having a Jesus of their own. Then a fourth, and a fith, a twentieth, a fortieth… Soon there were thousands of Jesus, all over everywhere. The church decided that there was no way that all of these Jesus’ could be the real Jesus, and that the extra ones had to be a hoax, or people dressed up. The Jesus’ response to this was to walk on every surface of water they could, from ponds and lakes to children’s wading pools. They turned all of the drinking water in the Capitol city into wine and they started healing the sick everywhere.

That last bit pissed off the big pharmaceutical companies by cutting into their profits.

More Jesus’ came. More and more everyday. It was getting to the point where there was a Jesus on every block. There was a Jesus in every apartment building. There was a Jesus in every home. You would be sitting on your couch, watching a movie and Jesus would walk into the room, sit down beside you and watch you watch the movie.

People started to complain. It only got worse. The Jesus’ as it turned out liked to watch people have sex. My girlfriend and I haven’t had sex for 3 weeks now. The last time we did a group of Jesus’ walked into our bedroom and just started watching us. One of them even had a bowl of popcorn that he was passing around. Nothing kills the mood like having a room full of Jesus’ watching you attempt to have sex. It feels… Well it just feels creepy.

People were getting sick and tired of seeing Jesus everywhere. Some unscrupulous landlords were threatening to raise the rent due to Jesus being in every apartment counting as an extra tenant.

Culturally the Jesus invasion was starting to have an effect that none expected. Depeche Mode’s song ‘Personal Jesus’ had suddenly become globally despised. Even the Richard Cheese version of it. You really could “Reach out and touch faith”. Even when you were on the toilet. Jesus seemed to have no concept of personal space.

Other faiths started to get worried. Would their deity suddenly come back too? What would happen if an army of Buddha met an army of Jesus Christ? Would there be room on your couch for both of them? Would Zeus or Thor hold a grudge? On the other hand, what would it mean if representatives of other religions didn’t start showing up? This was an upsetting and tense time for the world.

There were people suggesting a Jesus cull. Humane ways were debated to cut down the numbers of Jesus’ in the world. What would be the environmental impact? What do you do with the bodies? Would they just rise again after 3 days? There was even a group pushing to use the bodies of Christ to feed the homeless. “It is what the Jesus’ would want” they said. Others pointed out that man can never truly understand the mind of God, and that means we couldn’t possibly know what Jesus would want. Then there was the legal argument. A “population control” effort would still be murder. Possibly genocide. In the end a public service announcement went out advising people to drive the Jesus’ from their home by pushing them out with a broom. This it turned out, was only a temporary fix. The Jesus’ would stand outside your apartment or home, peaking through your window at you. At most it gave people about 20 minutes before the Jesus’ would simply open your door and walk back in. Locks seemed to be powerless to stop them.

(Chapter 3 and 4 not included)

So it was settled then. Katie would chase all the Jesus’ out of our apartment with a broom, and I would turn our television toward the front window and play the “Best of Kittens” DVD that we had recorded from the internet. This would give us about 20 minutes to quickly have sex while the Jesus’ were busy watching kittens push other kittens down stairs and attack wagging dog tails.

"Are you ready?" She asked me, holding the broom like some ancient warrior queen, about to do battle. Good lord I was horny.

"Let’s do this!" I shouted, as I started unplugging wires from the wall.

Katie charged at the three Jesus sitting on the couch. They looked startled as she prodded them with the broom. “Just because you died for our sins doesn’t mean you get to crank the heat on our thermostat and drink the last of our milk!” This got them moving. She poked and prodded them towards the door sternly saying “Out out out! Out with the lot of you!” As soon as she slammed the door on them I wheeled the television toward the window and pressed play. Silly music filled the room as a kitten chased a red dot across the television screen. We both held are breath as we waited to see if it would work. The seconds passed with nothing happening. Katie shouted out a happy noise and pulled me into the bedroom. A quick glance toward the window confirmed what we had learned was true. All three Jesus’ were pressed up to the window watching the cat videos. Success!

We had about 20 minutes or so to have sex before the video would end and the Jesus’ would just walk back into our apartment. We were done in 5. The weeks of not having sex were just too much for foreplay or romance. Lying there in the bed, sweaty and exhausted, all we could do is look at each other and smile. Sex was back in our lives again.

Time passed, and a few minutes later we heard the front door open. We heard saddled footsteps coming towards us. Our door opened and in walked the Jesus’. They all looked at us. We could tell that they were disappointed in us. They knew what we had done. Premarital sex was still a sin, but I couldn’t help but feel they were more upset that we had used kitten videos to distract them while we snuck off to fuck.

"Aw come on guys!" I started to protest. Two of them walked towards the bed, one on each side. Then they lifted the blankets and got into the bed with us. They each took us in their arms and forgave us, cuddling us close to them. The third one went into the kitchen. I could hear him using the microwave to make some more popcorn. In a few moments he would join the rest of us in the bedroom and watch us sleep, while he munched away on that damn popcorn. This felt even worse than when they started trying to watch us have sex. Our naked bodies were being lovingly cradled by a Jesus. My sweaty flaccid penis was pressed up against one of them. I felt dirty, disgusted and ashamed. I knew that Katie would be feeling the same. What was worse is that we both knew that the Jesus’ knew how we felt, and they were forgiving us. I wanted to cry. This clinched it. Tomorrow we start playing dirty.

(Chapter 6 not included)

Katie and I decided to go for a walk to clear our heads and figure out what we were going to do. This passive aggressive Jesus guilt was really starting to do a number on us. It was warm out, and as she took my hand in hers, I felt strong. I knew everything was going to be alright. It was almost a perfect moment, ruined of course by a bunch of Jesus’.

No, that isn’t fair. As annoying and frustrating as having all of these Jesus’ everywhere, this time it wasn’t exactly the fault of any of them. We had turned the corner of a large apartment complex and were almost trampled by a heard of Jesus’ running towards us. The looks on some of their faces was one of horror and fear. Behind them ran a crazed little fat man. He was wearing blue and white striped boxers, had a tank top that was about 2 sizes too small with black curly chest hair almost exploding from it. There seemed to be BBQ sauce drooling down the corners of his chubby little mouth. Honestly, he reminded me of cartoon you might see drawn by The Oatmeal. The Jesus’ were terrified of him. My eyes almost popped out of my head as it dawned on me what had happened. He had eaten one of them.

The police were called and the man was arrested for murder. The media of course went wild with this story.

"THE INCREDIBLE EDABLE JESUS!"

"JESUS, THE OTHER WHITE MEAT!"

"THE CHRISTIAN DIET, LITERALLY!"

The headlines were amusing, but considering this was actually about murder and cannibalism, they were in poor taste. The church was outraged and called for the full weight of the law to punish Denis Isaac, the little fat man we had seen chasing the Jesus’.

We were all glued to the television watching the trial. The prosecution and the defence each had some interesting arguments. The prosecution had argued that despite Mr.Isaac’s insisting that Jesus was made of bread and wine, he was still a man, and shouldn’t be eaten. This argument seemed to be logical and it looked like Mr.Isaac would be spending the rest of his life in prison. The defence however had an ace up their sleeve. 3 days after Mr.Isaac had snapped and eaten one of the Jesus’, that Jesus returned. He rose from the grave, or in this case the rather large stewing pot that Mr.Isaac had stuffed him in. The court gasped as the defence called a very much alive and rather annoyed looking Jesus to take the stand. His robes were dirty and covered in BBQ sauce and pickle slices. Their argument was that if Jesus was still alive, then the charges of murder and cannibalism had to be dropped. The judge had no choice but to let Mr.Isaac go free, but gave him a stern warning about how it is wrong to eat Jesus.

(The rest of the chapters not included)

[kyletrojanmurphy]

Logic.

[kyletrojanmurphy]

CONGRATULATIONS TO ALL BORN IN THE 1930’s, 1940’s, 50’s, 60’s, 70’s and Early 80’s!!! First you survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or drank while they carried us, unless of course you died, but hey, who cares about those weaklings? You did a bunch of stupid kid stuff and lived, just like kids today are doing stupid stuff and surviving. But the stupid stuff you did was much more wholesome and cooler because when we look back in time, we use rose coloured glasses! Speaking “coloured”, it was okay to call dark skinned people that back then. Life was so great that the “coloureds” had their own drinking fountains and were not allowed to live in the same area as the whites. Fun times! Oh, remember the genocide of the Jewish people in Europe, the Japanese internment camps in North America, or putting Natives in residential schools? You survived doing that too! You could beat the crap out of your wife AND your kids, just because! They gays! Get them! Because the bible tells us to do it! Remember when “boys will be boys” and “if you didn’t want it, you shouldn’t have dressed like that”? Sitting in the schoolyard with your best friends, singing songs like “Fight, fight, a nigger and a white! Nigger wins and we all join in!” Peanut butter wouldn’t kill us all. Hey, let’s lump in 50 years of history and make it all seem fantastic, and make the kids and the parents of today seem stupid, totally ignoring the fact that those born in the 1930’s think that those born in the 1970’s are “smoking the dope!” Because fuck kids and parents of today, even though they are the product of the generations that came before them. But we will just ignore that fact. Guilt free pasts for everyone! Wooooo!

[kyletrojanmurphy]

Hamburger sharks!! Run!!! Oh the horror!

[kyletrojanmurphy]

The Elder Gods are not morning beings.

In a darkened underground room, lit by candles gather 13 men in crimson robes. Their leader leads them in chanting. A long dead language not spoken aloud in many years. Elder high priest : Brothers, it is time. I hold in my hand the vial, mixed according to the ancient scriptures of the People Time Forgot. Fermenting for the past month it is now ready. We 13 will awaken our elder god, and sit at his right hand as he wipes out the world and makes it anew. 12 priests say in unison : In time forgotten, let the chaos bring the light and truth. Elder high priest : Dalturx , awaken. We your subjects call on you, by the pax of the Old Circle, we pass this vial amongst us, drinking of it as you will drink of our souls. 12 priests say one after the other as they each take a sip from the vial : My soul quench your great thirst, oh Dalturx. Elder high priest holding up his hands, making ancient complicated mystical symbols : Awaken Dalturx, Great one, bring us your chaos, your light, and your truth.... Awaken! A darkness and cold embrace the 13, as a low rumbling sound like rocks scraping against each other fills the underground room. A powerful voice in a language none of them have ever heard spoken vibrates through each of them, causing them pain and blood to trickle out of their ears. Silence... Then the elder high priest screams and falls to the floor. Dalturx : YOUR MIND IS DISTASTEFUL. WHAT IS THIS TONGUE I HAVE PULLED FROM IT? AH. ENGLISH. THIS IS THE TOUNGE YOU OFFEND ME WITH. WHY HAVE YOU AWAKENED ME? Elder high priest picks himself up and stands on shaking legs. : Lord, it is we who have brought you back to the awakened state. To walk the world and judge. To bring your glory to those who please, and feast on the unworthy. Dalturx : WHEN IS THIS? WHAT TIME IS NOW? WHAT IS THE YEAR? Elder high priest : Great lord, it is the time of the Fire Star. The year is 2014, February the 25th as we humble humans measure time. Dalturx : 2014? AND YOU HAVE SEEN FIT TO AWAKEN ME? Elder high priest : Great lord, the comet has come. The time for your awakening is now. Dalturx turns to look down directly at his elder high priest, shuffles his tentacles like fingers, raises a massive fist and slams it down crushing the elder high priest into a wet pulpy mass of crushed bone and meat with a sickening "splat" Dalturx looks around at his remaining 12 priests. Horror and confusion painted on their faces. Dalturx : FEBRUARY IS TOO COLD. GIVE ME 10 MORE YEARS SLUMBER. The remaining 12 priests are all staring at the crushed remains of their elder high priest. Dalturx cleans the blood and bone from his mighty fist and notices them all staring. Dalturx : I BELIEVE YOU CALL THAT "HITTING THE SNOOZE ALARM". TEN MORE YEARS. CLEAN THE MESS ON THE FLOOR UP. QUIETLY. OH AND BLOW THE CANDLES OUT AS YOU LEAVE.