I have a secret. I’ve kept it ever since I was eighteen, and I’m forty-eight now. Not even once have I considered sharing it. Nobody would believe me if I did. Hell, sometimes I don’t even believe it, I’ve managed to convince myself that it’s all in my head many a time. But then I’m faced with it again and I can’t deny that it’s real. Implausible, fantastical, but absolutely real.
You’re probably wondering what my secret is, and do you know what? I think that now…yes, I am ready to divulge it now… Continue reading “Narcissistic Fairy Tale”
This story is the continuation of a previously posted piece. Before you read this instalment, check out A Pain in the Neck if you haven’t already. CW: both stories contain much blood, murder, and other gloriously gory things.
Is there any point in being quiet? As I kick in the door of another addict shack, I tell myself no. Those who should be running know I’m coming. They’d have caught my scent the second I entered the city. And yet, every single one of the five dealers in the place has remained. I smell them. I hear the way their thick, dead blood crawls sluggishly through their veins.
Are they arrogant or stupid? That’s the question I’m asking myself as I step over the husk of what had once been a trendy young man. Judging by the designer logo on his shirt, the lips still plump from fillers, and the expensive shoes on his feet, he’d come from money. Will he be missed? Might his death be the death that finally begins the conversation every fucking person in power is afraid to have? Continue reading “Bleed All Over Me”
Oh. My. God!
I can’t believe I’m actually standing in a lift with… no, it can’t be. I must be mistaken. Kidding myself. Dreaming even. I mean, what would he be doing here? Heading for the second floor of a bloody Travel Lodge? This guy must be a lookalike, an imposter, he can’t really be…
But he looks so much like him! The all-black ensemble is so on point it’s almost scary. Old band t-shirt stretched over hard muscle. Tight jeans, heavy with silver chains and trimmed by a tarnished belt buckle, the rubies in the skull’s eyes glowing when they catch the light. Leather boots, chunky, unlaced and showing flashes of uncharacteristically colourful socks.
And the famous bandana and shades combo! Continue reading “His Spitting Image”
Like the big kid he is, Dominic tosses a short plank onto the bonfire. The girls clustered nearby give him the stank-eye as they dance away from flying sparks. He laughs maniacally, racing to the water’s edge and back again with a sopping wet bunch of seaweed in his hand, laughing louder when the girls’ irritated sighs turn to screams of disgust.
The thought that I should probably tell my best friend to wind it in a bit crosses my mind, but I don’t. I don’t even give him more than a distracted tongue click when he lobs the soggy seaweed in my direction. I’m far too busy watching Stefan watching Lisa to care much about Dom’s attention whoring. Continue reading “Seaside”
“You using, lying, sack of shit! Don’t ever come near me again!”
Helena – aka my suddenly ex-best friend – picked up the skirts of her saloon girl dress and stalked away, leaving me standing there gawping after her like I was having an attack of the dumbs. Everyone at the faculty fancy dress party was staring at me like I’d just announced I had a tail, but they had to know that the woman was batshit crazy. I hadn’t laid a finger on her and had no intentions of ever doing so.
Drunkenly telling our friends that I’d eaten her out like a starving man eats cake was bad enough, but telling them right in front of me was even worse! I mean, I’d never even seen a pussy let alone put my face in one. Cock I’d been up close and personal with, and I’d had more than one butt banquet in my lifetime, but pussy was as foreign to me as Frenchmen. Continue reading “Doppelgänger”
Once in every lifetime,
Comes a love like this…
You know you have a true, lasting connection to someone when you bump into them after a period apart and it immediately feels like it was only yesterday when you were last with them. That easy flowing conversation. Familiar touching if your relationship is intimate in nature, the automatic respect for personal space if it isn’t.
Some believe that those people are our soulmates.
I know they are. Continue reading “Soulmate”
If I was less drunk I might have been self-conscious about the headboard smacking off the wall. I might have made an effort to cover Adam’s mouth. And I would definitely have opted to wear a condom.
But, as being drunk goes, I’m probably the worst I’ve ever been, and I’m giving my date such a hard, bareback anal fucking the headboard has been knocking holes into plaster for going on half an hour. Adam’s been hollering ‘Oh God, fuck yes!’ so loudly I wouldn’t have been surprised if the Almighty descended from heaven in corporeal form, just to tell him to shut the fuck up. Continue reading “Awakening the Wet Dream”
Screaming hinges was one of the worst sounds in the world. It set my teeth on edge and gave me an itch in my head that was impossible to scratch. I assessed the solid double doors in front of me with weary eyes. Weathered wood, wrought iron studs, and hinges that looked like they hadn’t moved in a thousand years. Yeah, this one was gonna be a screecher.
Grumbling quietly to myself, I let my fingers curl around the imposing black ring on the inner side of the door on the right. It was icy cold, making me shiver just like I had the first time I’d walked into this derelict old church. Something about the place felt off. Sinister. Continue reading “Sons of Satan”
I hadn’t expected Dean to be naked when I walked through the front door, but there he was. Standing at the bottom of the stairs with his back to me, broad-shouldered, firm cheeked and tight thighed. One of his arms was bent, his hand hidden in front of him. I wondered if he was hiding something from me, or if he was…no. If he was doing that, his arm wouldn’t be so still. Continue reading “Just a Spoonful of Sugar”
We were all going to die.
People ran around the deck, shoving at each other, looking for an escape that they weren’t going to find. They’d said women and children first, and as I was neither I didn’t even consider approaching the lifeboats. I could have barged my way on like some of the older men were, but I didn’t. I’d made sure my mother and sister had their places, and then I’d stepped back, my dark eyes fixed on my mother’s light ones, and then on her forehead, then her hat. I didn’t look away until the tip of the ostrich feather that capped it vanished. Continue reading “A Night to Remember”