Showcase for all my creative works. [this blog is still a work in progress, more tags will be added in the future] Main blog: youutteremotionalwreck.tumblr.com
Slowly I close the door to the house and take a seat on the porch steps, thudding bass lines and kick drums rattle the door a little. Housewarming party for someone I barely know. All I knew was that she would be there, I’d been avoiding her lately, I had so much to say and if I said it sober, I’d just make myself look like an idiot. I keep doing this, wanting to speak to her but back down because it might be weird or she might freak. I take another swig of beer, observing the serenity of the night. The cloudless night sky, dotted with distant stars and constellations, allows the full moon to bathe the streets in its gentle glow, somehow the streetlights only had to that feeling. Aside from the music the only sounds to hear are of sleeping suburbia, the occasional car engine and scurrying of nocturnal creatures and a slow breeze that gently shakes the trees and bushes so their shadows dance in the moonlight. I take a deep breath, losing myself a bit in the night. The door shuts from behind me, I sit up in reaction. It’s her, why is she out here? Did she come looking for me? I try to compose myself and take a drink but I end up choking a bit on it and coughing up a lung almost. She giggles as she sits on the step just behind me.
‘Oh wow, are you okay?’ She says, the concern in her voice touches me a little.
‘Yeah don’t worry, I’m okay.’
Her face shows disbelief as she brushes loose strands of her sleek auburn hair.
‘But you’re out here on your own, at a party…’ I can feel my eyes start to water, I take another swig of my beer; I’m nearly out. ‘… Something’s not right, talk to me.’
A deep breath is needed. I tell her everything, all the thoughts and feelings I’ve kept hidden away, too scared to talk to her about. It’s all making itself known. She says nothing throughout, simply smiles and acknowledges everything I say. After all the alcohol induced tears and heart ache, she responds with a hug. That embrace tells me all I need to know and the tears come back in force. ‘Everything okay now?’ She asks.
Relief makes me smile and part of myself thinks happiness or at least stability might not be far off. But, the nagging voice, that small thought that this is only temporary. Tears of gushing relief turn
back to quiet sadness. She looks confused.
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
I inhale.
‘Because I’m never going to have this conversation with you.’
I exhale as everything behind me fades. The thumping music turns back to the soft breeze blowing its way through the streets. Her warm presence leaves me, all I feel is the cool stone step offering no comfort. My face was never wet with tears, only a grim indifference to the night’s stillness. I finish my beer, the bitter taste is sobering. But I’m going to need another. I get up of my porch step and walk in and out of the shadows between the streetlights. It’s going to be another cold night.
She put out the milk bottle in the centre of the table, like she always did. It was a small table, enough to seat two, her and her husband. She did as any good wife should do and made her husband breakfast nice and early in the morning. A hearty meal of eggs, bacon and beans. A perfect start to a busy day. Today was special, so to celebrate she brought out the good china, she would have nothing but the best for her husband. She set the table while the beans were cooking, placing the plates, cups and cutlery, all centred around the milk bottle. It was a drink that gave strength, which she certainly needed today. Lastly she placed a loaf of freshly baked bread and a bread knife, she so loved dipping it into her eggs. She smiled, today would be a good day. She was dressed in a fine silk dressing gown of pure white, with black and red lingerie underneath. She wanted to surprise him. She wore her hair in ponytail, so it was out of the way but still let her shimmering red hair dance brilliantly around her. She’d also put a deep red lipstick on. Again she wanted to give him a surprise.
Footsteps. He was finally awake.
She followed the sounds until he finally descended. He entered the room, in a state. You’d be surprised that they were together under the same roof. Stained underwear, dirty and worn vest and tattered slippers. He too was traditional. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it was his motto. He saw the meal being prepared as he entered and sat down, like a good wife should, he thought. She delicately placed the meal on to the plate and with the same care on to the table. He was confused though as it wasn’t placed in front of him. He opened his mouth in protest but she placed a finger on his lips. She poured herself a glass of milk then placed herself on his lap and dropped her gown to reveal her skimpy attire. This was new he thought, a surprise. She gave him a passionate kiss, he closed his eyes as he felt something rise, she grabbed the milk bottle as though to steady herself in her passion. She struck him, a combination of milk, glass and blood erupting. He crumpled to the floor in shock. She kissed him once more tasting his lips with the milk and blood. He opened his eyes and saw her towering over him. She leaned closer and ran the bread knife over his throat. As the blood gurgled from the gaping wound in his jugular vein and the life left his eyes. She’d never felt this rush quite like this before. She sat down and began to eat her breakfast, she took some bread and dabbed it in the blood. Cooked to perfection. She wiped her lips clean of blood and grease and calmly took a sip from the untainted milk.
She finished her breakfast, feeling very pleased with herself.. I always surprise myself she thought. After wiping herself clean of bits of food and blood, she sadly knew her moment of glory was over. There always an unpleasant aftermath with him. She washed the plates and table, a clean house was something she prided over. Next she made her gown ready to be washed, unfortunately it had stained, if it were on her body it would be no matter, but silk is rather troublesome to clean, he was always so inconsiderate and never cleaned up after himself. Luckily it was still rather early and all the blinds in the other houses were down but she still hurriedly drew them, as she began to move her husband into the pantry. She would hate for her neighbours to see her in such scant clothing. I must get changed she thought, prying eyes would love to see her but she can’t let them.
She stepped out of the shower, feeling fresh as ever. Like her cooking, she held her appearance in high regard and she knew how pretty she was. It was ever so useful. It allowed her to get such nice things, like the house and more importantly her own way. She soon got dressed, in something far less scant than before but still revealing enough to draw attention. Attention meant control. There was still a matter of cleaning the mess in the kitchen. Glass, milk and blood everywhere. Thankfully though she was very adept at what she did no matter the task and within minutes her floor was as pretty as her complexion. A home should project an image of its tenants. After that, she started planning the day ahead; she was having friends over for dinner and she needed a dish that would excite the palates of her dear friends. To her horror the freezer and pantry were empty of good meats to cook, she had a wicked way around pork, steak and all kinds of other cook-able flesh, not even scraps she could use in the meat grinder. She then saw her husband again. She’d heard horror stories of cannibals in far off places but could she really bring it to the heart of suburbia. Of course she could, she was a brilliant cook, she could say it was some foreign delicacy she read about in one of her magazines, it wouldn’t be too hard to convince them. She pulled down the kitchen blinds, that could arouse suspicion but a simple excuse such as a headache would suffice if any questions were raised. The body was placed in the middle of the floor; she had experience doing this with legs of pork and lamb so at least the tools and skills were there. I’ll try not to leave a mess, she thought as she raised the meat cleaver and through the silent house, the sound of bone being cut rang out through the house.
The freezer was fully stocked now, there’d be enough meat to last a lifetime, obviously she would alternate between the new meat and old favourites but she knew now that a lot of money would be saved thanks to her husband, in fact this was the nicest thing he had ever done for her. How sweet. She put the blinds back up as the midday light shone brilliantly through the, once again, spotless kitchen. The knives glimmered. To test the new meat she’d ‘acquired’, she made a spot of lunch, nothing too heavy; a spoiled appetite at a party is greatly frowned upon faux pas. She took several small chunks of arm and cooked each one in different way, a meat platter to test the waters. The sizzling meat smelled delicious, of course that was more down to her excellent skill around the kitchen than the quality of her husband but it gave her hope for tonight. It tasted delicious too: grilled, sautéed or roasted, it was all good. Her friends won’t know what’s hit their taste buds.
She placed a bottle of fine Italian wine on the table. It was from the Sicilian region, very red and very rich. Around the wine she placed 5 plates each with a matching knife and fork. She used the fine china again, obviously cleaned and looking just as perfect as this morning. A sense of déjà vu engulfed her. She felt the same rush, it still felt amazing. Everything was set up, except the food, which she would cook in front of her guests, to allow them to smell the deliciousness. After everything in the kitchen was prepared, she turned to perfecting herself. While she couldn’t just wear the lingerie from this morning she still put it on, it was necessary considering what she was cooking. On top she wear a black evening gown with a slit in the leg, which revealed her elegant curved figure greatly, something she liked to flaunt. She wore her shimmering red hair down so it would catch the fading evening light and mesmerize her guests, and like always and once again the deep red lipstick. Everything was ready.
A knock at the door, the party was about to begin. She quickly placed the cuts of thigh onto the pan, she intended to make a rare, dripping steak topped with peppercorn sauce and gently fried potatoes and mushrooms. The scent engulfed the house as her guests entered the house. After some brief chit chat and bonding the meal was ready, everyone’s mouths were watering, she’d always been a fantastic cook. Each time the steak was pierced, a generous amount of blood oozed out, the guest noted that mixed with the sauce it added so much flavour. Soon the elephant in the room had to be pointed out.
‘That was a fine meal Madeline, you’ve truly outdone yourself,’ Madeline blushed, ‘but tell us where has your dear husband got to, he’s missing out.’
Madeline flashed a warm but devious smile,
‘Well, darling he was called out for an emergency business trip, something terrible must have happened with the company, he had to leave very late last night,’
The guests murmured amongst each other and gave her condolences.
‘But, please don’t worry, this has nothing to do with anything between us,’
There some relieved sighs, Madeline cut another piece of stick, blood dripping from the meat as she raised to her lips.
‘We’re closer than we’ve ever been before’.
After the dinner party had finished and plates lay with crossed knives and forks, dear Madeline sat back down in her seat. She poured herself a glass of the delicious Sicilian wine, she poured it slowly and with grace, the same kind of style that expertly cut the throat of her husband this morning, but the wine was far more satisfying to Madeline. She sniffed the wine allowing its rich scent to dance along her nostrils. This must be what it’s like to taste my cooking, she giggled to herself. She took a deep a long sip of the wine, savouring its texture, its taste with intake of breath, her eyes closed, her heart racing. Madeline swallowed the wine and exhaled in ecstasy. This wasn’t just from the wine, as delicious as it was, but she could finally take in the entire day. She had gotten rid of her husband and more importantly pulled off the dinner party of the year, nothing could top it, not even Vivian, the sly little cow, could pull it off. She finished off the last of her wine and observed the kitchen. The plates were wiped clean, a sign of the satisfaction her husband provided, but it was another mess of his she would have to clean up again, but Madeline didn’t mind, he’ll be a manageable handful from now, and a wife does have a duty to her husband. She ran the hot water and put on her marigold rubber gloves, to her dismay there was still some blood on them that she had missed. How could she have been so careless? I’m usually so thorough, she thought. The idea that she left even the tiniest stain visible angered her somewhat, no matter if it was grease, dirt or blood. The scalding, soapy water washed away the stained plates of the night and to Madeline’s relief, the blood on her gloves. With the dishes clean, and stacked away, she took another look at the kitchen, it was silent. The clattering of cutlery to plate, the nattering of polite conversation, and even the sound of her husband sitting in front of the television watching whatever lowbrow trite appealed to his less-than-refined tastes. With that she decided it was time for bed, perhaps a read before she slept. She could finally read that book her husband called ‘aberrant trash’ but was in fact a sultry, passionate exploration of womanhood, something he couldn’t... refused, to understand. As she was about to ascend the stairs, the whisper of impulsiveness began to take hold, a smile and quickened breath of excitement and anticipation also appeared. She took a hurried glance at the clock as she made her way towards the phone, it was only 10 o’clock, her intended recipient would still be up and she dialed with fervor. The phone rang and with each ring she slowed her breathing to an appropriate level for conversation. She put the phone down after a quick conversation, it was all set. She smiled again, she hadn’t felt this happy since the first time she had gone to bed with her dear husband, if only back then she would know what became of the marriage, it would have been even more pleasurable. She stripped to her negligee and allowed herself to breathe in it, though it was washed of blood she still felt the rush of perverse giddiness when she slid into bed. It took her a while to get to sleep but once she did waves of pleasure and satisfaction coursed through her and manifested in a content but wicked grin on her gorgeous face, and it would continue into the next day.
Early the next morning, Madeline got to work, while today’s dinner would not be as extravagant as the previous, it still required much preparation. She returned to the pantry to pick out the next set of choice cuts, she couldn’t cook a steak again, the same meal twice in two days is a sign that one is running out of ideas, and creativity in the kitchen was Madeline’s speciality. A brilliant idea struck her, spaghetti bolognese with garlic and basil sprinkled with fine parmesan! She took the least useful parts of the meat, now was the chance to use something she hadn’t used in a while. She took the cuts and placed them on the counter. This time there was no need to hide this time as she was far more modestly dressed in a simple blouse and skirt. She pulled out the meat grinder, with glee she began to pack in the smaller off cuts of meat and began to grind. She fondly remembered how this had been a gift from her dear husband as she ground his flesh into mince. He has been so helpful these last few days. After an hour or so of grinding, she was done. Her arms ached and her brow was soaked in sweat, but hard work is it’s own reward and she was left with enough mince. She left it out on the side to be ready for cooking quickly and began to get ready.
She stepped out of the shower, the feeling of cleanliness was something Madeline loved, seeing the filth that has accumulated simply washing away. It made her feel new again, much like a snake discarding it’s own skin, only far more hygienic. She dressed herself slowly, taking her time, she did not want to rush the moment, this would be as good as yesterday's breakfast. She dressed in tight, maroon, dress that clung to her exquisite body and cut off far above the knee, with black tights underneath. Then came the makeup, she was not going to be outshone by her guest and finally her spell-binding red hair, which she allowed to fall and dance around her shoulders almost hypnotically. Once she was finished she raced downstairs to set the table and set the pasta noodles to boil, low heat was her preferred method, and prepared her bolognese sauce, with a very special ingredient. She took out a mixing bowl and a can of chopped tomatoes, a whole onion (diced) and a whole clove of garlic, and then the special ingredient. From the fridge she grabbed a jar of blood, which she saved, when she carved up yesterday’s carcass. She slowly poured the sanguine fluid into her mixture and stirred vigorously. She was careful not to add too much, otherwise it would have spoiled the flavour, but just enough to be the perfect compliment to the meat. After she had finished mixing, it was time to set the table, her guest would be arriving very soon. Madeline did let out a smirk, a brief show of her excitement as she placed two plates of the fine china on the table opposite each other. She also brewed a pot of tea, what is a simple lunch get together without tea?, Madeline thought. Once the tea had been brewed she placed in the centre of the table, with a cup of sugar and a small cup of milk. All that was left was to begin cooking.
A knock at the door startled Madeline, but she recovered quickly, it was time for lunch. She turned the frying pan down to a low heat, it was nearly cooked and she wanted the succulent, delectable flesh to moisten in the juices of the sauce. She opened the door and to no one’s utter surprise, it was Vivian.
‘Oh, hello darling, how are you?’ Madeline greeted her warmly with that lovely smile of hers.
‘I’m very good, thank you. How are you, Maddy?’ Vivian replied, somewhat coldly though pleasantries were never Vivian’s strong point.
‘Just fine my dear, just fine. Please come in, the food is practically ready.’ Madeline hurried her inside and through to the kitchen. She closed the door, firmly locking it with the latch, we can’t have our secrets escaping now, she thought as she quickly entered the kitchen. Vivian was sat at the table, casually sipping a cup of tea, half bored but she did seem intrigued by the smell. She was dressed in white floral dress, with little cute flowers dotted on it, Madeline thought that manner of dress was rather tacky, fittingly it suited Vivian rather well, She kept a close eye on her as she went over the hob.
‘I didn’t realise it was going to be a full on meal.’ Vivian said
‘You aren’t full are you?’ Madeline wheeled around to face Vivian, looking a bit crosser than she intended to.
‘Oh heavens no, it’s just… I had some chicken defrosting for my dinner tonight.’ Vivian replied rather sheepishly ‘Smells good though.’. Madeline flashed her a reassuring smile.
‘Don’t worry, after this you needn’t bother with that.’
Madeline picked up the china plates she had set at the table and drained the pasta. She placed an equal amount on both plates. Next came the addition of the meat, by now it’s aromas had infested every nook and crannie of the kitchen, the rich smells of the onion and garlic made the meat so much more exquisite, to Madeline anyway.
‘Spaghetti, look at you getting all continental now Maddy, first that wine you had when were last over and now this.’
Madeline let out a dry, humourless laugh that Vivian didn’t pick up on,
‘Well I do love to experiment every once in a while.’ Madeline chuckled again, this time rather more truthfully.
She placed the meals in their respective places, then sprinkled with some very expensive parmesan.
‘Tuck in, darling’
The meal started in a rather pedestrian manner for Madeline, it was mainly Vivian talking about the more boring details of her divorce, but she was enjoying how Vivian ate with fervor, like she couldn’t bare not having the flavours on her tongue.
‘Actually, speaking of husbands,’ Vivian said, with half a mouth still full, ‘where is that devilish James of yours?’ A small bit of the red sauce trickled from the corner of her mouth.
‘I’m afraid he’s had to dash off, an emergency business meeting. He took off very late last night.’ Madeline said still focusing on the small red drip.
‘What a shame I didn’t catch him then, I would’ve loved to say goodbye. He’s been such a gentleman to me, helping me with the divorce and reassuring me.’ Vivian looked incredibly forlorn as she spoke.
‘Yes, he will be missed while he’s gone,’ Madeline said, a slight accusing tone registering in her voice, ‘Would you like some bread to go with your meal Vivian dear?’
‘Yes please.’ Vivian answered.
Madeline got up and went into the pantry to retrieve the bread. On her way back to the table she took the bread knife from its stand and placed the bread on the table. Vivian nodded in thanks, but Madeline simply took another look at the red stain that was still on Vivian’s mouth. Poor Viv, she never saw it coming - enjoying a fine meal with a dear friend when in one swift movement Madeline brought the knife across her throat. She collapsed to the floor, gurgling, gasping for air as the ominous figure of Madeline looked down on her as she let out her last breath. Like before blood had gotten everywhere, the table, the chair, the floor and even on poor Vivian’s dress. It looks better in that colour Madeline thought, as she went to fetch her handy meat cleaver.
Take your last shot, it won’t hurt. It’ll hurt either way. You want the quick flash before your eyes of losing everything you ever loved or the slow, sinking feeling of wasting desolation. That’s your decision? It’s not what I’d choose, but then again, I am not you... and nor do I wish to ever end up like you. Any final words? No? Well then, I guess this is goodbye. You were never wanted by anyone and any mark you left on this world has already been erased. Enjoy the void, it’s best you will ever get.
Cattle Decapitation released all the information on their new album ‘The Anthropocene Extinction’, along with a new track from said album. And it is glorious. This is just a first impression of the track, but it is everything I was expecting from them. It’s remarkable that a band so brutal can work in some great melody, without a losing a shred of intensity in their music. ‘Manufactured Extinct’, sounds like the logical progression of the band we heard on 2012′s ‘Monolith of Inhumanity’. The song itself starts off slow with a breakdown, building up and up as the monolith of guitar, drums and bass is then added to with a long, guttural and inhuman growl from Travis Ryan, one of the best vocalists in the music industry, then as the first line is delivered, the song explodes into grindy goodness. Dave Mcgraw’s drumming is incredibly tight and (along with bassist Derek Engemann) provides the perfect breakneck rhythmic foundation for the track. Guitarist Josh Elmore is in fine form as well, being able to play at such speeds with great technicality and during the slower parts of the track, injecting sublte hints of melody again without losing an ounce of heaviness. His guitar solo being the icing on the cake, perfect, calculated, melodic insanity. Ryan’s vocal’s are as visceral as ever, his low growls and grunts barking out misanthropic lyrics about humanity’s inevitable self destruction are a joy to listen to. I’m also very glad to hear his ‘clean vocals’ in use again, another sing of Cattle Decap’s spell binding ability to add melody to brutality. Overall I am incredibly excited for ‘The Anthropocene Extinction’ and ‘Manufactured Extinct’ is great representation for what we can expect from it.
The Anthropocene Extinction is out on 7th August via Metal Blade Records.
I just finished the first 9 episodes of the 2012 anime adaptation of Hirohiko Araki’s manga JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure. These 9 episodes cover the first part of the overarching story, titled Phantom Blood (first published in 1987).
I first heard about this franchise around a few months ago but never really looked much into it but after re watching Kill La Kill for the umpteenth time, I figured I would decide to start looking into new anime again and this was one of the shows that I decided to give a chance. As I was looking into this show, I couldn't believe that one of the most well known franchises had completely slipped me by (before getting into more anime I at least knew about Studio Ghibl, Neon Genesis Evangelion and DragonBall Z and other well known franchises), so I decided to get accauianted with this series.
The basic premise of JJBA is the chronicling of the Joestar family, throughout the ages of their eponymous bizarre adventures with the supernatural. Part 1: Phantom Blood chronicles the struggle between Jonathon Joestar and his newly adopted brother Dio Brando.
Overall I do like the series so far and I will keep watching but as much as I did enjoy there were a lot of niggling problems I did have with these episodes. I think my biggest complaint is that Jonathon is frankly, quite boring. Don't get me wrong it's awesome when he gets his fight on beats the hell out his opponent but we rarely see him in his downtime, I think had we seen more of him and Erina's relationship rather than being told that their relationship blossomed (purely so Dio could interfere) would have been great because it would show him living up to the reputation that he's a true gentleman. The only instance I can remember is when he sits down with Blueford after their fight and allows him to die at peace with himself (which was a very well done moment overall). I have a feeling a lot of this was cut out of the manga purely because of timing and pacing reasons, the episodes do have to cover a lot and they only have a limited run time.
However this does lead me on to my nest criticism which covers Dio Brando. I have a a problem with the way he set out his plan and the way his relationship with JoJo is presented. I will clarify that Dio is a solid villain, he's intimidating and always seems to have a way out and knows how to get into our hero's head, all well and good, but I do wish that his betrayal was presented as more of a surpise. I say this because ultimately, Dio's plan fucking sucks. Well up until he put the mask on anyway, but even then he's set to fail. Dio's initial plan was to get Jonathon completely isolated from everyone, until he becomes nothing but a shell (even going as far as killing the dog) but ultimately this serves to piss Jojo off, which leads to Dio's initial undoing (in a really excellent and emotional fight). What makes this stick out as a rubbish plan is that afterwards, in the next episode, it's shown that he's switched gears and decided that he has to feign friendship, which I think is what he should have done all along. As I said it would make for much more dramatic viewing but also it would really help in the characterisation of both Jojo and Dio. If we'd scenes of them interacting as friends and then maybe every now and again having sense of Dio doing something potentially nefarious, it would have created more dramatic tension and give JoJo's 'oh shit' moment more weight, because his so called best friend has been working behind his back the whole time. It would make their relationship and struggle all the more tragic, with Jojo wanting revenge not just for Dio killing their father but for also betraying him after years of friendship and memories. Additionally, Dio putting on the mask would be all the more frightening, because it's at that point that JoJo's Hamon ability would be discovered and so would Dio's weakness. After he's killed George and pushed Jojo to breaking point and been thoroughly beaten, Dio realizing that he has to shed his humanity in order to gain the upper hand on Jojo. I think they were trying to set up Dio as this Machiavellian schemer but ultimately I think it falls flat. The funny thing is, after he changes, I think he becomes a much better villain.
The only other criticism I have for now is that Speedwagon felt a bit inconsequential after his introduction and became the guy who points things out, but I know that he becomes a major player further down the line.
Please remember that this is all subjective and that I understand that this is probably how it was presented in the manga, and even if it wasn't, half the audience would have known that Dio was the big bad. Also I do really enjoy the series and I am intrigued by what's going to happen next, I'd just rather talk about what didn't work for me because you don't need some random nobody like me telling you what's good about one of the best selling franchises to ever come out of Japan. Thanks for reading and roll on Part II: Battle Tendency.
The cold air is stinging. The night wind beats down any resistance to it with pure natural authority. But not for me. I’m taking the full force of the wind, standing out in the open, it feels good. The winter air doesn’t bother me, I’m colder than the night ever could be. The moonlight bleeds through the black clouds, flickering in and out of view. It’s watching me but with a cold indifference, merely observing and passing no judgment. I regard it with the same feeling. The building is lit ever so slightly by the freezing moon. It’s just as big as I remember it, massive. It’s old though and I can see its brilliant gothic design, accentuated even further by the dim light of the moon, have begun to wear, however it still had an air of menace and fear to those who would walk past it on a cold winter night. It’s all a front though because I tell people I spent the best part of my life there inside the jaws of this old dog, forever laughing in its many corridors. It always reminded me of a dog, to outsiders and intruders a snarling wolf, a warning to stay away. But in reality it was a protector for those inside who knew and loved it.
The wind is picking up but I don’t care, it should help tonight. I take a walk around it surveying it, reliving memories that soon will be forgotten, the mocking laughter and false promises that were held within. The clinical blue and white of it all, stains on my memory. I’m back to facing it again but further away. The small cluster of trees should keep me safe from the angering air as the first wisps of smoke begin to rise. I feel a touch of melancholy, for so long this day has been forming and now it is done, I wonder what will become of me now. However as the flames begin to claw out of the building, so does satisfaction. As red begins to drown out the black my grin becomes bigger and bigger. The fire is devouring the moon and I can feel the breath of it. I no longer feel the cruel chill of the season. A cacophony of noise erupts as beams collapse and plaster begins to crumble under the intense heat. Screams begin erupting too. I walk towards the building and the first ashes begin to descend. I’m still grinning, yet I taste the saltiness of tears. Are they tears of sorrow or joy? I can’t tell. I fall to my knees half laughing, half crying amongst the hellfire rain. I can still hear the screams. I don’t know if they’re real or not. I don’t care. It was done. The ash didn’t stop falling.
It was winter. It had been snowing. She had to wrap up more than usual. The cold bench provide respite. The weight of the bench evened out.
‘I know you. I seen your face all over the internet, not just your face mind, but your body too.
Under here layers, cold still penetrated her. The ground didn’t leave her site. She heard licking lips.
‘I love what you do, every pictures fine.’
Condensation left her mouth rapidly. Her pulse quickened.
‘I’m always the first to see it.’
She remained statue like, the voice whispered once more.
‘Not just online too, I’m always watching you.’
Cold breath brushed against her ear.
‘Such a pretty face and beautiful body, why not show me something now?’
A cold finger slowly moved up her back. Through all her layers, the chill ran with the finger. The finger slowly moved round her body to her chest and it began to descend once more.
Darkness.
‘ENOUGH’ she cried.
She stood up, not once did she look at the bench. The cold was still with her. She turned to leave the graveyard. Behind her, another set of footprints joined hers. She felt the terrible, cold breath again on her neck. She grabbed her attacker but felt nothing. The cold finger running down her back was still there.
(This is an old one that I wrote last year for a class, so it's not the best)
The trip to the woods was a nightmare. It was unfocused and disorganised. Everyone was all over the place, disappearing for ages. We were lost for most of it. We arrived back at my flat, it was the closest to the woods. The rain was falling hard, like pinpricks against exposed skin. It had followed us back from the woods. The 5 of us dropped our heavy bags by the door and sat in the front room. Not one word was uttered between us. Dead silence. We were so drained, like all vitality had been sucked out of us. I got up and put the camcorder on charge, hopefully I got some decent footage, might shed some light on what happened. None of us could really remember, probably due to the tiredness. It was late afternoon so I suggested to the others that we all sleep, we were incredibly tired. One or two mutters of agreement and one loud yes. It was strange though, it didn’t sound perky or upbeat, or as drained as it should’ve been considering the last few days, it was almost lacking in personality, flat. It was Kara, she was sitting bolt upright, I didn’t take too much notice because she was the token quirky one in our group, I thought she was just fooling with us. We all got into comfortable positions and tried to rest. As I fell asleep, a familiar smell caught my attention. It was a very metallic, copper smell. Before my eyes closed for one last time I saw Kara’s eyes, they were hollow, empty, and then they closed. Had she noticed that I saw?.
I woke up. Looked at the time, it has half 9. I was still groggy but couldn’t get back to sleep. I took another look at Kara, asleep. Maybe I was just paranoid, the copper smell awoke some bad memories. I saw that the camera was charged, I might as well check out what happened. Luckily my camera had a jack for headphones, at least I won’t be waking the others up. I skip through most of them, just the regular kind of teenage stupidity when they get left alone. But the last two were interesting, they were the only two we filmed at night. The first was of myself and Kara, nothing too unusual just pissing about pretending to be scared of the woods, it was a cute video, but then as we were joking about something circling our tent, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, the video began to rumble. The sound became very bass heavy, and I could see behind us was a silhouette, because of the dark I couldn’t make it out fully, but it looked hunched, with claws and something hanging over them.
‘Do you smell that, Lucy?’
I put two and two together, however to make sure I really knew what was going on I watched the last video. This one was far more serious. Kara said she heard something outside the tent, this was two nights after the previous video, I remember being spooked. I was filming this one, following the trail of sounds. Kara shined some torchlight between the trees, something moved away from it. The camera caught a glimpse of a claw. I noted on how the smell became stronger, to the point that it became nauseating for me. Kara kept running. I had to catch up, make sure she was okay. I probably should have dropped the camera but I wanted to see it, with proof. I gave chase but then the rumbling bass returned through my headphones. Then a loud series of rips, snapping and screaming filled my ears. I had to pause the video. We had seen something, and it had definitely seen us. I resumed the video, for a little while it was just me calling out for Kara. I headed back to the tent. Kara was there when I arrived. I thought she was just shocked then but now I could see something had happened. The hollow eyes and bolt stiffness was there. I got up to the bathroom, leaving the camera on the table. I washed my face, thinking for some reason that it would help, as if it would wake me up from this nightmare. When I returned I managed to fall back asleep. It wasn’t for long though before I woke up again. It was midnight. The camera was gone, as was Kara. A door shut and I followed the sound. I could hear the camera playing, over and over. It was Kara’s voice, followed by some kind duplication of it, like it was trying to match it. As I crept closer to overlook the stairway, I got a good view of what I thought was Kara. It was moving and contorting as if it was trying to match her but soon an inhuman grunt came out of it. It located the SD card of the camera and bit it. Leaving the camera by the entrance to the flat, it left. I went to the window and watched it. It was hulked over, just like the silhouette I’d seen. Then Kara contorted horrifically as her skin ripped, she was being worn as some kind of trophy, the creature skulked away, hobbling in a grotesque fashion with the remnants of my friend adorning its back into the woods we came from
‘Praise me in the name of war, I destroy both rich and poor’
I need this, I have to prove it, and can I do it? My hand moves up and down, faster and faster but there nothing. No end product. One more time, this time faster, the faster the better. Moans of pleasure fill the room, not mine, the people on the scream have hit their peak of ecstasy, but it left me long ago. I give up, I can’t do it. It was coming; I could tell a while ago, it was just a matter of when. Maybe I’ll try picking up someone at the dinner, only reason to go these things really, a cheap fuck. I turn the video off. I don’t even feel jealous. I raise the blinds and early morning light slowly filters in. The highest apartment of the Shard, it was a spectacular view, but now it looks like an ant colony without a queen, no leader. All the technological advances and it still wallows in shame and dirt. The apartment was a gift that separated me from the world, first physically and now mentally, I feigned thankfulness when I received it but now I’m truly thankful, I can see the world in my image. I see myself in the windows reflection, but not just me; it’s what I will become. Thank you…creator.
‘Man alone is a weakling’
My skin feels heavy, with this suit even more so, one façade on top of another. My driver is already waiting for me at the ground floor, same spot every time, I like to have mechanical precision, leave nothing to chance. I had to learn this, otherwise my plan would crumble. He tips his cap and leads me to my limousine and from there to the dinner. The filth of the streets, soon it will be wiped; the rats will be given the gift of cyanide. The restaurant is the usual extravagant and high class affair, busy too but all I need is to flash my business card and they bow down, they don’t recognise me though, it’s just the name that matters, the name of my creator. That’s what holds power and influence but that will change soon enough and tonight is stage one. A waiter takes me to the private seating. The guests greet me, mainly just the board of directors, and my father. The talk is on our latest scientific breakthrough, human augmentation, the amalgamation of man and machine. The construction of our first mass augmentation plant is complete, sooner than I’d expected but this is good news nonetheless. By now the alcohol and conversation are flowing freely, now is the time to make my move. I propose we move our head offices down to the factory; we (and more importantly I) can personally oversee the running of the augmentation processes. I spearheaded our company towards it and I have the most experience of working with it. I can also have my own part of the company, I can do something to make my father proud, and I can spread our influence further. The speech is fine on its own but that last part will appeal to the progenitor. I can distance myself from his name. Nods of disagreement from the board members, they always hated me, they believed I got in the easy way. They stand in my way every time, that’s why they didn’t know about my work in augmentation until recently, I had to keep it secret. However the most important man agrees. My father. My progenitor. Then the board almost instantly agree, I’m thankful for this opportunity. Those who stand in my way will join me. No matter what. The new age of humanity, creeps ever more closer. I take a sip of whiskey, it goes down easier and my skin feels lighter. I go to the bar, still partially euphoric, to complete the night’s second objective. The addition of alcohol and tonight’s success is giving me a glimmer or carnal pleasure. I’ll complete the night and myself with just one more thing. Almost immediately something is slithering on me, she’s pleasing, dressed in black with plenty of leg showing to tap into some spark of lust in me. They all do this, the rats trying to find the holes in which they can enter our system. I’ll allow it this time. I buy her some drinks, she is grateful for it, good; it’s clear she knows who I am and her place. She’ll do.
‘I will tear your mind away’
Noise, the limousine is filled with noise. She talks too much, it doesn’t sink in, just white noise. She places her hands on my leg and is planting her lips on my cheek, trying to inspire some act of primal lust in me. It is working despite the noise. In return I do the same, but still words escape her mouth between each kiss. However it doesn’t bother me, there’s a faint flicker of humanity left within me, I’ll make the most of this. I take her up to my apartment. The gears of passion are still grinding even on the long journey up. Ascending ever further to greatness. We enter the apartment and instantly shed our skins, bare before each other. I see myself once more in the windows reflection, a mechanised and perfected me stares back. The fire is fully lit, the loss of my humanity makes me feel alive as I pull towards my bed, she’s quiet now but she has just become part of the plan. I’m alive again as we go down onto the bed. The new millennium Christ has almost come.
‘Ascension is what you ask, I will be the fall of man’
Early morning over London. A typical grey dawn, but soon the skies will burn red and I will be the one to light those fires. I sip my coffee, it’s as black as possible almost like oil, it’s as bitter as it at least. The spark that invaded my circuitry last night has died out, my cold, mechanical demeanour has returned, the plan is of utmost importance now. Hands drape around me, she’s awestruck by the view. I tell her she now has a job. My personal assistant, my every command will be obeyed and carried out. She cannot speak. I smile, not out of happiness but I must keep up appearances, she leaves, but will be back (as will the chatter), she starts today. I have a mouth piece now.
‘I am the way, prepare for salvation’
The factory is glorious, I had overseen the blueprints but I did not get to see the final product. Despite its small exterior, the interior is huge. A small unused field just an hour from London, the factory looks inconspicuous, just the administration building over ground, but underneath is where it all is, the augmentation booths. The rebirthing of humanity will begin here. Hundreds of booths, all primed under my command. I walk down among the booths, inspecting every element, every detail. The tools look beautiful, like instruments that will play the greatest symphony ever written. As good as the booths look, they need to be tested out. A test subject will be needed. A quick phone call is all that’s needed. I head up to the control room, it is a simple room only filled with a button to start/stop any augmentation procedure if needed, a few monitors streaming a live feed from each booth for a quick overview and one computer, in truth it’s more than that but this is the master computer. The factory is designed for mass augmentation and here is where it is programmed. I begin to type; the future unravels at my fingertips.
‘Strength in time of suffering’.
A figure passes around each of the security cameras then enters the offices. I’m still watching. Anticipation is slowly rising as she moves closer to facility. Her shrill voice eventually pierces the through my mechanical utopia. Her talking begins, I’m somewhat accustomed to it and I’ll even miss it, even if it was useless and idle drivel. However, I have no time for fond memories, I must test and she will be my alpha build. I escort her through the factory, explaining the factory’s main goal of military augmentation. She never talks when I lecture her, the attentiveness is always impressive. Perhaps there are shades of myself in her? We arrive at the furthest booth, the only one set up with my new coding so far. Everything depends on this, it’s all changed because of her, and she is the lynchpin.
‘This looks amazing; I can’t wait to see it in action.’ She says, wonder and amazement have filled her eyes, twinkling; they’re almost as bright as monitor screens. I laugh and place a welcoming arm around her, as the booth whirs into life and I lead her straight into the metal slab. I offer a smile as the cuffs hold her in. The process begins, scraping of metal and screams fill the air. The pain is temporary. Humanity is temporary. The rest of the factory is lit up by the sparks. I am a modern day Frankenstein. It is finished. It steps towards me. Welcome hierophant.
The rest of the staff has moved in by now, 50 people, 50 soldiers. The last stage is almost here, my army is almost ready. I welcome them all, regaling all the clichés of the next step of our organisation and how we are leading the world into a brighter and better future. It’s truer than they think. The board are also here, all 12 of them. I lead them through the offices, showing off my wonderful employees, all hard at work. It’s all plastic smiles and paper thin pleasantries. Finally we come to the factory; I walk them among my Garden of Eden, the booths are my metallic plants sprouting forth a new reign.
‘I have begun some preliminary tests, gentlemen,’ I say, ‘the augmentation process is perfect, in fact, I’ll show you how well it does.’
‘Enter Hierophant!’
It marches in. The body which was once draped in a fine black dress has now become a slender frame of blackened steel and cybernetics. Circuitry’s running all the way around the body, from head to toe, one arm ending in 3 sharp chrome blades. The eyes are still human, but there is nothing behind, merely shells, fuses leading to a brain that has been enhanced so heavily, increasing reaction time and problem solving, which allows for superhuman movement and deduction, and drilled into the very centre, a prime directive. Obey. It’s wired so deeply that it cannot be reached. She is the only one who will speak, she will speak on my behalf. Announcing my arrival .The board look horrified, they believe it to be an abomination, we have gone too far, I’m playing god. I am not playing God. I am God. My assistant blocks the exit to the booth, they will not leave. I strap myself in. The time has come.
The power of a new life surges through me, lasers grafting circuits all over. Flesh is being removed. My pathetic human tissue is being rearranged. Cold, hard steel becomes my new shell, my new skin. My heart replaced by pure electricity. I finally feel alive, my true nature, my true form is finally revealed. The machines tear the useless skin as my bones slowly become bars, no longer will they snap. I am unbreakable. Syringes burrow deep into my brain, mechanizing that which was once flesh. It hurts, but it is a good pain. Strength in time of suffering. With each second I feel my ascension is closer. I am elevating to higher form. The blackened steel wrapping around me, never have I felt so human. More syringes, they inject aluminium oxide, replacing my blood. It powers my new circuitry. I’m pulsing with energy. Sparks fly everywhere, but I can’t see their faces, the process has not finished with my eyes, but I can imagine them, horrified, terrified, in awe? All I can do is laugh. They are seeing the birth of God. My lungs are torn away, replaced with ceramic plates, to spare me from the dues of inhalation, no longer will I breath the filthy air of humanity. I am stripped of congenital flaws, the drawbacks of flesh replaced by the precision and perfection of mechanisation. I feel the staples stab over the remaining skin, pulling me together, drawing each plate of steel together as one. One last thing until the process is complete. Vitriolic acid baths me, moulding me to perfection. It baptises me, the new me, to this world of violence and I am the creator. No longer bound by the name of my family, I am free and finally complete, ready to devour the world. A new reign of cyanide has come. My reign. Light returns to my eyes. I have eradicated the fake, the impure, the organic, and the breakable flesh. I am the new norm. I step away from the slab. The drug of gods, pounding through my veins, as I step towards, the board, cowering in their suits. Those putrid threads of artificiality, it used to give them power, but now I am true power.
‘Look upon your God,’ my hierophant announces, the voice has been heavily modulated by the process but it still commands respect, awe and fear, as it fulfils its purpose. ‘Bow down.’
Knees hit the floor. All but one drops. He was always the most adamant towards me. I look towards my creation and nod. The grovelling sacks can do nothing as It drags him to the slab as I make a few adjustments to the process. The symphony of evolution begins once more. If I could smile once more I would be as surgical tools attack his throat, and hexagonal bolts fill his mouth as he tries to scream. He cannot. He will no longer speak, nothing will. Without speech the world cannot deceive or cheat itself. He is now reformed, he is my disciple now. One by one I augment them all, those who looked down on me, denied me my time. We are now one and the same. One mind and one goal. Now we strike.
‘Those of you who dare to stray, I will take your life away’
All the staff in the offices are gathered in front of the building. Safety drill, I instructed over the intercom. 50 people ready to become my soldiers. On the screens I can see where my disciples are positioned. The hierophant appears, instilling all kinds of terror, but they can’t run, the 12 slaves have them surrounded, as they are brought down to the factory. I stand on a catwalk, high enough to see into all the booths but low enough that I can still be seen and feared. Screams flood the factory, I can sense the dread. It speaks from behind them,
‘Welcome, my slaves, you are gazing upon the greatest art form ever created. And you will be one with me.’
They are marched down into the booths. One breaks free of the crowd and races to the exit. I allow him to get the final set of stairs then nod at a disciple. Blades erupt from the escapees head. The disciple slowly removes his bladed hand and then drags the body to dispose of it. There is no escape. This is the future. No more running. The symphony of screams reaches its crescendo as the factory is red with sparks and hot metal warping around human flesh. It is complete. The new reign begins now.
A small village near the fear factory, a quiet, unassuming place. A boring town where there is no excitement. A perfect testing ground. The hierophant stands in the centre of the village, drawing attention. The villagers think it is a statue, an elegant tribute to how far we’ve come as a species. It speaks,
‘You will all kneel before the God of Cyanide and Metal.’
I march in, expecting the same cooperation my disciples gave me before their awakening. Some do. The disciples, positioned outside start the first fires. As the blazes spreads farther along the villages outskirts, more start pouring into the centre. ‘Kill the young and old, they have no purpose.’
The cull begins. They have nowhere to run, the fires turn them straight back to the warriors. This is for the good of humanity. Streets run red with the blood of the weak. There is no need for blood anymore. A few warriors have rounded the weaklings up and lined them up in the centre, must be related to the ones we are taking them away. They line up behind them. Blades extended. They all crumple to the floor at the same time. The precision is perfect. Mechanical.
‘Take them to the factory,’ The Hierophant instructs, ‘enlighten them.’
The grunts readily work at their task taking the prisoners to be augmented. I walk through the remains of the destroyed village. Something from behind jumps out at me from the burned debris. Without even turning around, my blade strikes him. I aimed to miss. I wanted him alive. A few more rats aid him, but there’s nothing they can do. I may not have killed him instantly but I wanted to give him enough time to see the fires fully lit. I walk back to the centre. They still follow me, perhaps waiting for another chance to strike. The hierophant has laid the last of the explosives and hands me the trigger. We walk through the fires, a feeling of purity overcomes me. I light the charges, as fires surround the centre of the village leaving the dissenters pushed up against the explosives. Screams then a fireball erupts behind us. I take one last look at the village. The sky is red. The first of the fires has been lit. A top a nearby hill I can see London. Christ is returning to his Kingdom and the streets will be lined with cyanide and metal. Salvation has arrived.
Chrome knife. Open wounds. Finally smiling.
Horizons expanding, eyes widening. How beautiful.
Perfect body, feels great. Amazing sound.
No soul? Got money? Problem solved.
Always in my memories. Get out.
That day changed everything. I decided enough was enough. I put on my iPod, relief; the only thing I thought gave me a meaning. As long there was music in my ears I didn’t feel so alone. I knew where I was going but I wanted to take my time, to try and feel a small hint of remorse at was I was going to be leaving behind. It was long walk through the city, but in my state I saw it for what it truly was. The offices and towers, just vertical graves where hope goes to die. But that did nothing for me, because they still gave the people in there meaning, they meant something to someone. Those grey faceless figures, I thought I was so different from, still had a purpose. I didn’t, I only drifted through my world, with no truth, and full of lies. To get to my destination, on the outskirts of the city, I had to walk through a park. The once bright colours of the park seemed grey and barren. The emptiness crushed me. It was all bare and dead. That’s when I saw her.
She didn’t match the deadness that I saw around me. It was the first time in while that I actually paid attention to someone. She had long, flowing, dark, hair and the way it swayed in the wind, and it was hypnotic. I looked at her once more. She was beautiful, everything about her was perfect and it was then she looked at me, with her perfect face and delivered a perfect smile. I was taken aback. Hope began to live once more. I walked towards, yearning to talk to her. I sat on the bench she was on. She turned to me and said
“I know why you’re here”
I looked at her in confusion, “you do?”
“Yes.”
She blew some pink bubble gum and let it burst, she turned to me and that’s when she graced me with her eyes. They seemed so comforting; the colour began to slowly return. She spoke again, “I see people like you come by here all the time, it’s a popular place, but please don’t, stay with me, I want you to see beauty again. She put her arm around me. I looked at her; I couldn’t hold back my emotions anymore.
“Thank you” I said through my tears.
She didn’t respond. She just held me closer as the colours rushed back. Green, blue and white. It was all so beautiful. Life was returning. All was well. I felt something in both my hands. In one hand was hers, I felt a rush come through me. I held hers back and I looked at my other hand, a piece of pink bubble gum, a sign of happiness. Hope
“I will help you” She said
I took the words in and looked around the park. The people looked so beautiful; the faceless grey figures morphed into individuals with lives and stories of their own.
All of a sudden she stood up and pulled me up with her. We walked off, back home through the beautiful city full of majestic heights.
I took her back to my house. Welcoming, positivity radiated from every corner. Did it have something to do with her?
“Don’t worry…” she said, “…James.”
Shocked, all I could do was smile as tears formed once again and fell gracefully to the floor.
She returned the smile, another rush of joy.
“What happened to you?” she said in her caring and melodic voice.
I told her my story, about how I was abandoned by everyone. Tears were running down her eyes this time. We sat in silence. We stared at each other. Understanding and compassion poured from her. She took another piece of bubble gum. I smiled again, my sight never leaving the gum, even though it was obviously not the same one from earlier, I knew that this was an important symbol that I’d never let go of.
After that I’d sorted myself out and was much happier, also we kept in contact regularly, I always tried to see her as much as possible, it was the only to make sure I was still doing okay. Everything was good. After about a month though, she left. No warning, no explanation. At first I thought it was a joke, I tried to call her but she hadn’t left anyway to contact her, she usually turned up and stayed for a few days and went to her house, nothing. I didn’t understand why, even if she was going, I would’ve been if she had told me. This felt like a betrayal. Was I just taken for a ride? Was I used for her own gratification?. All these questions wouldn’t be answered. Anything in my sight I destroyed, remnants of what she left behind. Every moment of happiness turned to anger. I felt the same as I did a month ago. I went back to that place, this time I wouldn’t be stopped. If everyone leaves me, why don’t I just cut to the chase and go. I get the fucking message.
I stormed back through the city, everything still held beauty and purpose, I was lost for a moment in the grandeur and spectacle of the world around me. I closed my eyes, all I see is red. I focused on that, not letting anything stop me. The feeling was different this time, not one of loss, but of helplessness. A part of me was cruelly ripped out and spat but I was more accepting this time, like it was meant to happen.
I reached the park, but once again the vivid colours and liveliness of the park stopped me. I slowed down and walk along to the bench, replaying the moments from a month ago over and over. I sat down, anger rushed out and a ripple of melancholy slowly washed over. The seething fury was replaced by crushing self-loathing; I imploded under its weight, not caring about the world around. Again. I took one last look around. The beauty that filled me a month ago was gone, not dead but bitterly numbed. I got up to leave; I was finally going to see the other side. My end. Something caught my eye as I took one last look at the bench. Was that there before? Its bright colour captured my attention. Is that what I think it is? Pink bubble gum. I held it in my hand, confused but also cautiously optimistic, as though it was bleeding into my veins. A slow smile spread across my face. She was here, somewhere; by the entrance I thought I saw her. Her dark, hypnotically calming hair once again drew me in. I rushed towards the entrance, I was glad to see her, I still wanted answers but they could wait. However when I reached the entrance she was gone. I put the bubble gum in my mouth and all the negativity washed out, I was bathed in serene calm. I wandered through the city, a familiar feeling rose in me. I suddenly took a great interest in the people around me, like it was back at the park. Who was this person? Or that person? What did they do? What was their history? As these thoughts rushed around my head, I saw her again. I headed towards her, no longer angry. I understood, partly, the bubble gum wasn’t just a symbol of hope for me, it meant she’d be with me, if not in person then in spirit. A force that would always be there to guide me. I smiled as single tear of joy fell from my eye. The city felt welcoming once more, as the suns warmth slowly found my face. I headed home knowing that I’d never truly be alone.
I reached my house, hopeful once more. To my surprise, she was there, waiting for me. I immediately hugged her, never wanting to let go again. She returned the hug. We held onto to each other.
“I understand now.” I said.
She just hugged me tighter.
We ended the night asleep in front of my computer, our arms raped around each other. To me it was bond that would never break and for the first time in a year I was truly happy. I was alive.
It had been about a year since I first met her, in that year she’d moved away, but we still kept contact and saw each other as often as possible.
“Nothing will come between us,” she told me.
I decided to visit that park, just for a sense of nostalgia and sentimentality. It was as beautiful as ever, despite being devoid of any people it didn’t feel empty. The colours of the surrounding nature filled the park with life. I sat on the bench and put my hands into jacket pockets. Something was in there. Bubble gum. I grinned; I know who put it there. I began to chew on it and enjoyed the scenery, allowing the memories of the past year to slowly play them out in my mind. My attention was soon caught by something else however. A girl walked into the park, she looked about my age. There was something familiar about her, her slow walk, her drained appearance and the fact that she was here. It hit me; she was here to see what was on the other side. She looked so grey, life had left her. I empathized with her. She slowly came closer to the bench. I could see the hurt in her face, reddened and baggy eyes from crying tears that no one would ever hear.
“Hey,” I said
She looked at me in shock, I gave her a welcoming smile
“Want some gum?”
“E-er, thanks.” She said as she took the stick of pink bubble gum.
She sat down, tears began to form. When you’re that alone, the smallest of gestures are incredibly meaningful.
“I know what you’re going through, I’ve been there myself.”
She was still holding on to the gum as I said that. Slowly she put it in her mouth and began to chew.
“Here take the whole pack,”
Tears streamed from her eyes, as she took it.
“Remember,” I said, “you are never alone.”
She looked down at the pack of gum. I headed out the park.
“Thank you.” She said
I smiled at her once more and saw the colour had returned to her. She came up to me and asked me to help her more. I told her I would, everyone I knew would, especially a certain girl with hypnotic, dazzling and brilliantly dark hair.
The hours passed so slowly these days, she thought. I don’t know where the time has gone. The days had become routine and mundane in the previous months. It wasn’t just the days. Life had lost its flare. Today she decided to visit him. A difficult decision but one that was necessary, it was the fifth month since he passed. Enough time to grieve and move on, but she wanted to hold on as well, he was all she had. She slowly made her way to his plot, as memories came flooding back: their first encounter on an idyllic cruise, their first date, the first kiss, the wedding. She smiled. A single tear rolled down her aged face. The first anniversary, their children, their happy retirement, his diagnosis. She reached his grave. The single tear was now joined by a stream. His first treatment, his 50th treatment. Terminal they said. She saw it all again, the way he’d been robbed of his gracious youth. Strung up by wires, tubes and machinery.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I’m so…’
More tears. She was on her knees now, hugging the only thing she had left of him. The feeling she hated the most back then was all too familiar to her. Powerless. Five months of sadness came back.
‘If only I told you, how much your touch and your smile meant to me,’ She cried, ‘but I was scared. Oh god. I’m sorry.’
She stayed there for hours. She felt winter’s chill creep across her skin like a cold hand. But she didn’t feel alone, that cold hand was his and in her sadness she heard his heart that long since given out. She smiled.
Backstage. In the toilet. Pre-show nerves got to me again. The last heave comes up dry. That’s enough for now. I walk towards the others. They see me and we huddle. We do this before every show, keeps the band alive and together.
'This is the biggest crowd we've ever had guys,' I say, 'so let's fucking crush it tonight!'
'Yeah!'
'Lets fucking do it.'
The intro music starts and everything hits me. Breath coming in and out quicker. Body tensing. Pulse increasing. Chest pounding.
Joey goes up. A roar erupts. He starts riling the crowd playing some sounds on his kit over the intro music. They go crazy.
I see Matt go up next, clutching his first ever bass. This is really something special. The roar returns as he plays a small improvisation over the intro. I know what it’s leading up to. All the lyrics I’ve ever written enter my head.
I see Andreas and Wes face the crowd and as the cheers swell, their shredding skills make them go crazy once more.
The intros finished. Joey starts playing the hi-hat. Our first song of the night begins. Matt adds his base. Andreas and Wes start their guitars. I go up. I’m thrust into bright brilliance. A sea of eyes, hands, voices and bodies greet me. The music stops. I’m center stage. My mouth opens. Lungs expand.
'JUMPDAFUCKUP!'
Madness ensues. Guitars, bass and drums hit a cacophony of perfect noise. I’m everywhere. Can’t stay down. Everyone is moving. Bodies are flying towards the stage as the music sends all into a euphoric and rage filled frenzy.
This was something truly special.
Partly inspired by this song:
Jump Da Fuck Up - Soulfly
I arrived at Phoenix Station at midnight; I was to wait for the man I only knew as Eren. He was coming to collect his papers for his new identity for some past transgression. I didn’t know what he had done and I didn’t ask; it wasn’t my place to find out, although I had a feeling I knew what he had done, he didn’t remember however, he just knew he had to restart again. The station was a peculiar mix of old and new. Its overall structure was designed to match the sprawling, modern metropolis outside with its flat, sharp, exteriors with virtually no sign of any outside walls. Inside, the design was more gothic, the pillars rose to the ceiling and continued along a series of archways that each individually lead to different statues which lined the entire walkway from the entrance to the platform. The statues were very strange as they were not the usual gargoyles or mythical creatures but odd mollusc-like creatures with unnatural dimensions. One thing that unified them all was a singular eye located in the middle and as I walked through I felt the strange sensation that I was being watched. This sensation continued as I reached the platform as there was an unnerving stillness around everything, not helped by the emptiness of the platform. I looked up and the clouds were completely still however they opened around the moon in a manner similar to the statues inside. I couldn’t help but stare, but as my gaze lingered longer and longer it felt like something was lurking in my mind, slowly awakening every shred of darkness within me.
The train pulled up and interrupted my focus on the moon; it pulled in slowly, lurching along the tracks, as though something was dragging it in. The strange presence I had felt earlier returned only this time it felt much greater. A door, near the front of the train, swung open and a figure stepped out. I assumed this was Eren and I went over to greet him. As I drew closer to him, his outline became clearer. He was completely pale and emaciated, nothing like the man in the photos he’d sent me a few days prior. I looked at him and his eyes caught mine. To my horror they were completely black, much like his body, it seemed as though all life was sucked out of him. I then took note of his clothes; they were covered in ash and in some places partially burnt. My mind began racing as to what could have possibly caused such harm. What happened on that train? I thought. I moved him to the nearest bench on the platform, and I looked at him, while at the same time avoiding his blackened eyes as they evoked the same feeling from earlier when I was staring at the moon. He started to speak; his voice was husky and dried yet filled with sorrow and madness.
He started from when he had gotten on the train. His journey began from a small town that was close to the edge of the Sonoran desert, it was the most derelict route possible, which was essential to Eren as he needed to keep himself hidden, the arid and empty desert felt peaceful to him, nothing but sand for miles either way but the heat felt all too familiar to him and he didn’t quite know why. It was long train ride but he expected to be in Mesa by early evening before slowly making his way to Phoenix to meet. Eren said that the train suddenly ground to a halt as the moon’s brilliant gaze hit the train. He wasn’t too bothered, he’d expected delays this far into the bad-lands. As he was gazing out into the desolation he took a chance to stare at the moon as he had always been fascinated by it. What caught my attention almost immediately was the way he described it, like it was bulging out of the clouds and how it felt unnaturally close and as he looked it he was overcome by the sensation of having eyes on him, watching his every move, a feeling that was now also familiar to me. As he gazed at the moon he mentioned how the crickets were getting louder and louder like they were swarming round the carriage he was in. This made him feel anxious and decided he had to find out what was going on. When he stepped between the carriages, he noticed that all the sound the crickets were making had stopped, there was nothing, just yawning vacuum where sound should exist but doesn’t, not even wind that was so common for the desert. There was just the unnerving stillness (the very same I had experienced on the platform).
When Eren had entered the carriage, he saw it was shrouded with smoke. He stepped back out and glanced on either side of the carriage but there was nothing, he again saw the moon, closer than ever almost like it was closely watching his every move. He stepped back into the carriage and entered the smoke once more. Much like the desert’s earlier heat, it was strangely familiar. The air was thick and practically un-breathable, the smoke was like a heavy weight upon him and, like the moon had done to me earlier, like it was trying to extract something from his memory. Eren looked out at the window and took another look at the moon, something was shaping on its surface but he couldn’t quite tell. He decided that he had to keep going. Due to the smoke, he couldn’t see where was treading and consequently hit himself on one of the chairs. It was that point he noticed that there was no one on the carriage. He had seen people get on and off, however there was nothing, perhaps they had moved and he hadn’t noticed. During this confusion Eren noticed a shadow, the moonlight made sure it was to get his attention, almost like it wanted him to notice. He moved closer and closer to it, thankful for some sign of civilization. The relief soon drained away when he was confronted with a mangled and charred cadaver, what made it all the more horrifying was that among the burned sections of clothing Eren recognized it as the exact items he was wearing: the black jeans, black and blue t-shirt with a grey hoodie. Even down to the slight tear on the sleeve of the jumper. Eren almost wretched at the site, but his attention moved elsewhere, past the charred remains to the seat next to it. An alcohol bottle with a soaked rag, he was confused as to why such a weapon would be here and went to pick it up. Suddenly Eren heard screams. Tortured screams from the darkest and most vile pits of Hell. He dropped the bottle because of the sudden appearance of the screams and turned in pain to find himself once again staring at the moon. In the middle of the crater filled mass was a colossal black spot, and as Eren turned to look at it, it looked back at him. The black spot was adjusting itself like it was the pupil of some cosmic overlord. As it focused on him, Eren focused on the screams and became aware of two familiar voices, a young child and a woman. The escalation of his surroundings caused him to scream, not out of fear though, but out of rage and at the climax of his guttural roar he heard glass smash. He looked around but there was no debris. He immediately turned to leave and continued his journey, going deeper and deeper.
Again Eren found himself in between carriages, and again felt like he was between worlds, both terrifying in their own way and both under the watchful eye of that luminous orb that was the moon. Inside the train was hell itself but outside was like purgatory with its impossible stillness and under the full gaze of the moon. He realized that he had to keep going, to understand this torture and find a way out.
Burning was all he felt as he entered the carriage, when he first opened the door he had to shield his face from the heat but decided to see the inferno as well as feel it. This was no fire he had seen before, he had seen fires glow with menacing orange and red tint, like a demon was lurking within, however the fire in the carriage was white hot, the demon was no longer lurking but out in full force and screaming in his face with pure hatred. He couldn’t see the moon but somehow felt as though it was screaming at him through the fire. He had to run through as quick as possible to avoid getting burnt as the fire leapt at him as though it was to grab him and pull him into it the blaze. The screams of the woman and child returned, this time more horrific than before, Eren stopped in the middle of carriage and saw a bracelet on the floor, it was completely cold despite the scene surrounding it. He picked it up and recognised the name, memories flooded back as a cold reality slowly crept up his spine. In the moment he stopped a lick of flame spat out and struck him across the cheek; his cue to keep moving. He got to the exit of the carriage as the screams reached their crescendo; he quickly exited the carriage, still clutching the bracelet.
The last carriage he entered was filled with nothing but ash, swirling in a wind that naturally only existed within the carriage. It was a far cry from the cacophonous symphony of the previous carriage. The screams were replaced with low whispers, which were equally as unnerving. He looked at the bracelet again, ‘Zoe’ it read, and as he held it out, it turned to ash and was swept long to join its brethren. Eren slowly walked through the carriage; he looked up through one of the windows on the carriage’s ceiling. The moon was completely on top of him; the black spot joined by the rest of the eye, and was solely focused on him. Eren stared at it as reached into the blackest pits of his mind.
‘I remember.’ That was all he uttered as it went deeper into his mind. Images of flames and charred remains encompassing his vision along with sounds of breaking glass and screams.
After that he blacked out up until I found him on the platform. His tale was incredible but still fantastical. I decided to take a quick look at the train but there was nothing that supported his story other than his injuries. I turned back to him but all that was left was a husk of the man known as Eren. As I headed back to him I felt that peculiar yet hateful presence I experienced just before the train arrived. I turned to look back at the moon and the abyssal blackness of its eye was focused entirely on me.
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