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@tenebraethoughts
Glitch
Attack Dogs
------------------------------------------------------------------------- I came to again and took in as much clean air as my lungs would muster, coughing and spluttering what felt like a fog inside me. I vaguely heard voices of âHeâs upâ and âWatch it.â My eyes took a moment to adjust to the slightly brighter darkness than the one my eyelids offered. Before me, I could see a few figures. Sharky, his arm in some makeshift sling and an expression in anger plastered across his face, a woman, who seemed to have branches growing where an angel might have wings, and antlers protruding from a feathered head. There was a creature that I can only described as a hellhound on two legs wearing a suit, the girl in the dress hiding behind his legs. Forefront to them all and coming closer was a short man with long silver hair reaching his elbows and an eye patch covering one eye, the other a bright yellow. His face was friendly, despite, and a smile spread across his face. âAhh, youâve awoken.â His voice sounded like a snake uncoiling, âHow are you feeling.â Pain spread through my body as it rushed to send my brain complaints, I tried to move only to find my hands bound. I managed to turn my head to see Allister, or rather the late Allister. I darenât turn my head the other way. I didnât speak, I didnât think I could. Why was I alive if theyâd killed the others, Iâd killed theirs. âAh yes, two of ours, two of yours.â The man spoke as if reading my mind, âDo you mind if I ask for your name.â I didnât say it, but nevertheless he looked pleased, pressing his fingertips together in front of him in a pyramid. âI am Silas, Silas Ludd.â He was holding a glass, filled to the brim with a black liquid, sipping it gently as he leaned down. I felt my brow furl with wondering how itâd appeared. âDid you know, Johnny,â he continued, as if one were a teacher talking to an keen student, âThat the Missing Peopleâs charity here in the UK tells us that 250,000 people go missing a year.â My brain felt like itâd taken the wrong road off the motorway. I felt it say âWhat?â even if my mouth didnât comply. âIndeed!â He smiled and took another sip of his strange green liquid from a clear mug, âBut expanding on that there are a lot of people who think this is actually an understatement, in between 2011 and 2012 the number was 313,000! Imagine that, some reports say someone is reported missing every two minutes. Of course, some get found, one way or a gruesome other.â He didnât seem fazed at all by his words, merely exaggerating words that it sounded like needed so. The snake that was his tongue continued on, âThereâs a significant chance that at least one person in your class at school is dead now, oh wait, whoops.â He made the face you make when you realise youâve said something bad to the wrong person. Like, told a stranger the woman you just served was a bitch only to find out it was his wife. The man looked at where the body of Allister was and downed the rest of his red wineglass. He shook his head, as if coming back to the point. â20,000 people go missing for longer, roughly, gone, just gone, not a trace or a hair of where they went.â He stood up straight and I found my voice. âYeah, I get it,â I managed to splutter out, âItâs easy for you guys to make me disappear, get on with it.â âOh, no no no, Johnny, not at all,â I felt him get closer to me, literally felt the wind rushing as if it to get away from him, âNo, I need you to understand that you see because I want you to realise, and inform others like you, exactly what you are hunting.â I felt shivers, I felt my eyes widen and my heart stop for just a moment as his words made me realise. âWe were those people, Johnny boy, but we got taken away, changed!â He continued, smiling at me and grabbing my collar, pulling me to my feet. I tried to get loose of the bonds around my wrists but I couldnât muster up the strength, I was vaguely aware of the wound still in my side seething with blood, âand now, Johnny my new friend, itâs your turn.â
Dead Poets Society [Peter Weir, 1989]
Click
Death Mask
Smoke and Mirrors
"Look at his cigarette." My eyes focused on the cancer stick, searching for what the hell he was talking about. It was only when smoke blew from the mans parted lips did I realize. The cigarette wasn't lit. Chris' voice came to me after a few heartbeats of confusion. "Charlotte, honey, please do not piss off the dragon."
Story Time - The Moon
Once there were two suns in the sky. It was a long, long time ago, before man walked the Earth. And they were named Sol and Achelois. Together they traveled the sky together, dancing around the world. It brought warmth to the world, it allowed life to grow where their light touched. Through the day around the world as they moved, light shone down and tree's burst forth, life swarmed the planet. Plants stretched out and lakes billowed with life. But when the light passed, when they moved across the world, that which was left in darkness and cold withered. It fell into the earth and was again absorbed by it. Only to be reborn the next time the light shone. Birds flew with the light, but when it got too far or they, too tired, they'd melt into ash, only to be reborn in it with the light. These were the first phoenixes. Through flying they had the longest lives day-to-day and began to learn, began to talk. They flew up into the airs and shouted to the suns to move separately, so that the world was always lit. So they could live! Sol looked to Achelois, and back to the world, seeing what could be done. That they could bring an eternal life to the world. Achelois was hurt, she sought to see if there was another way. But Sol was selfless, and although he loved Achelois very much, he saw what they could do for the world. Achelois was hurt, but she did indeed keep moving with the world and opposite to Sol. Never spying her love. She became sad and down. Her light began to fade and she grew dark. She held only a glimmer of her light, and thus moved closer to the world to shine it, just enough to keep life going although not enough to flourish it further. She became The Moon, as Sol became The Sun. The Phoenixes that roamed the Earth saw this, saw what they'd caused. But they couldn't undo it, not condemn the world they'd built. So instead, they gave up their own lives. Their souls moved with the air, into space, becoming the stars. Their shared light allowed it so that every now and then, Achelois can move to Sol, and be together for short periods of time. We know this as an Eclipse. A Full Moon is where Achelois is brightest, as she can see Sol, and Sol see's her. It's the moment they know it's not long now.
Eyes of the Villain
Working
Bestial Beauty
The make-shift theater went completely quiet as the gaudy, violet curtains that hid the stage began to rise. The audience still as if a tableau of anticipation. On display to them were six girls, of varying heights and hair but with a definite theme of figure. Slim, almost to the point that only the word dainty could describe them, even the tallest of the group. Each of them had a body-hugging dress, which stopped just short of the knees. Little, if anything, was left to the imagination. The silence was pierced by the screech of bow meeting strings as the fiddler began to play nearby, hidden from the crowd, to be accompanied by other instruments. A piano, drums and vocal chords. A rendition of âSweet Dreams Are Made Of Theseâ poured into the ears. But who cared what the songs were when you saw the girls start to dance. Spins and twirls seemed to pass through each other without as much as a clash of a hemline. They moved up and down as if on steps in the formed out of mid-air. Then a stop, and the slamming of shoes on the stage, echoing with the music around the hall. As if theyâd seen the lightning move across the sky and this was the thunder, only to flow back into the graceful steps. That was Madame Iraâs show, poise and power. Then came the next bit, as the song lyrics asked who they were to disagree, the girls put on the show everyone came to see. Gyrating hips and quick movements that only just managed to hide putting anything on display. Movements that made people sit forward in their seats, and a few people cover themselves awkwardly next to eyeing partners. Whistles and cat calls came from the audience towards the girls as the music, and themselves, got faster. The music distorted and changed into some form of electro swing. A faster version of Minnie the Moocher mixed with something else that made it sound more modern. The girls managed to move and flaunt off so well it could almost be assumed they were flashing the audience, but not an inch of extra skin saw the pale light that illuminated them. It slowed down and the moves became more tense and sudden. Trombones and saxophones joined the mix as if going back in time. The beat could be heard from the drums, one, two, three and four. Loud enough to feel underneath the music flowing over the audience, and in rhythm with each dancers feet. With every beat the curtain behind the dancers came up slightly, as if being tugged at from the bottom up.  Shoes could be spotted from the small gap thatâd begun to appear, and then stockings. Thatâs if people could tear their attention away from the dancing girls whose dresses now seemed to bloom out frills. The dancers clutched onto them, moving as if preparing to can-can. The curtain went up a little more, revealing a fiery skirt with a long fur, a sight only described as looking at a phoenixes tail feathers. Rising up, a crimson corset held her body hostage in its own cage, contrasting with red hair in loose curls. A necklace hanging between on show collarbones depicted a sapphire eye which, to someone paying attention, almost seemed to look around the room. Her lips held a bright red in place to enhance them, lipstick doing wonders. But where her eyes should be, instead there were silken bandages, starting just above a small nose and around her head a few times. Whispers were drowned out by the music, even as it seemed to die down. The dancers already on stage managed to disappear slowly, almost as if their shadows had stolen them away, as the girl stepped out. Liele Hawkin was her name, one of the main attractions of Madame Iraâs show. A girl completely blind but who could dance. Dance she did. The music flared up once more, something completely different and new. Flutes could be heard instead, as if it was from some countryside instead of this stage. She came out like a ballet dancer, a quick movement only to be slowed down mid-flight. As if youâd dropped something important and time had slowed down as you watched it fall to its doom. Then the music all of a sudden picked up, clashing cymbals joined in and with each one, Lieleâs feet hit the stage. It all stopped suddenly and Liele was left in the middle of the stage, in a pose with arms outstretched and back poised to the side. A slow flute picked up again and she moved slowly on the spot, her arms moving like liquid. The cymbals hit again and Liele had moved so fast it was almost a blur, a thud resonating where sheâd just stood, a knife in the spot she just was. A smirk drew across her face as the music continued, dancing on the spot until another cymbal rang out for her to dodge. She did it all whilst flaunting everything, mesmerizing her audience. Giving a peak of her ass underneath her âtail feathersâ. Showing off a top of her chest to someone near the front row only to move back and watch their gaze go from breast to a knife in the floor. Watching the audience mix a fear of what would happen next with a lust for more. The music picked up and she moved more, the knives disappearing off the stage as if string had coiled around each to pull it away. Instead fire roared out behind her, as if a dragon had held its breath as long as the show had gone on. She danced away from it, just enough that it singed her âtail feathersâ and nothing more. She ducked in time for a gout of flame to shoot just over the top of her, then to the side as one appeared where her feet once were. The audience gasped and cheered. She took bows and flaunts. Vague kisses to members of the audience. One member of the audience in particular looked her straight in her silken bandages. A man with a dark suit contrasting with blue eyes. He made a motion with a hand that showed off far too many rings. Another man beside him nodded and leaned in as the first man whispered into his ear. Only he heard the demand that his boss wanted that girl, and wanted her soon. As a result, they hadnât been paying attention when she walked off stage, flaunting her ass once more. As a result of That little display, nobody noticed the knives on the ceiling, floating after her, with little twirls on their way in tune with her fingertips. End of Part One. --------------------------- I want to thank Lauren for drawing a Burlesque style Liele, and for giving me a lot of inspiration for a fair few other pieces both here in my blog and in my mind. I definitely can't wait to write Part Two.
âIf a clock could count down to the moment you meet your soul mate, would you want to know?â I felt my palms get a little sweaty as I nervously twisted my wrist to check it again. One hour is all I had left. I looked back up at my own reflection in the bathroom mirror, inspecting every inch of myself that I could see to try and make myself more presentable. I heard a knock at the door behind me, voices asking if I was alright. Oh god how long had I been in there. I shuddered, I wasn't alright, in.. fifty five minutes I was going to meet my soul mate and I was most certainly unprepared. I left the bathroom quickly, probably shouldn't have used a cafe's restroom but I felt I had good reasoning. I didn't even know what to do or where to go. I found myself quickening my pace, getting through crowds of people. Taking a little look at pretty girls that walked by with a little fantasy. What if it were them. I let my mind wonder if it was someone I knew but just hadn't spoken to as often. Did the clock work that way? Did the countdown start RIGHT when you met someone for the first time, or just when you start falling. I thought a little about people I knew. Jess, the confident dancer. Alex, the bossy one. Molly, the quiet girl with the blue hair. Brian. Actually, maybe not Brian. That was an odd thought. I'd killed a few more minutes, I noted. I just wasn't sure what to do with myself. I tried just walking around trying to catch someone's eye. I sighed to myself as I did so and went into a newsagents. I grabbed a packet of cigarettes and a lighter, just idle things to pass the time. A cigarette would help, calm me down, I thought. I sat down on a bench trying to light my tab. I ended up almost lighting my finger instead. Then the wrong end. I cursed a little at it as if my swearing would cause it to light it on it's own. I finally managed to wrestle the elements to what do their job and took a drag, watching the world slow down. The time after that passed quickly, I calmed myself and willed myself not to look at the countdown. I saw someone to the side of my vision sit down next to me and then suddenly a cup was thrust into my free hand. Costa coffee with hot chocolate written on the side. I heard her voice, almost drowned out by the clicking of the countdown on my wrist reaching the last zero. "Would you save me two's? I've been nervous all day." I smiled wider than I ever had before and felt my worries in the world disappear in an instant when I saw her smile back.
Five Years From Now
Sound Is Golden, Silence Is Insanity.
There are moments in life when everything you thought you knew about something pales in comparison to something new that's come along. I had one of those moments the second she started playing her violin, and everything I knew and accepted about how Music worked went out of the window. Replaced by what I can only assume was what gold would sound like. And then the magic happened. There were no large explosions of power and energy. There was no sudden shock of fire wheeling from her. It didn't raise the dead nor did it cause the clouds to open up and pour down the heavens. But it did make me fall under her spell. I sat at the table in the hall nursing my drink, listening to her play and nothing more. Then she saw me. Smiled at me. Winked at me. That was the second moment, because in that little wink and smile, I experienced a whole new world.
Crossing Lines
Solitary Confinement
Geist