Our First Time With A Knife (Part Three)
Our First Time With A Knife (Part Two)
Our First Time With A Knife (Part One)
True Monsters
They wore boots. That’s all he could tell from the initial noises. They were silent at first, hardly making any noise at all. But their boots were too heavy, regardless of how careful they were. The boy of six years old was a light sleeper and heard them as soon as they stepped through the front door.
His father told him something like this might happen, to always be ready because there were dangerous people in the world that might try to hurt him. He had never fully understood what this meant until now. He was told to hide in the closet, in the little crawl space in the back. There he would be hidden from view and ultimately, hopefully, safe.
When he heard the boots, the boy sat up straight and stared into the darkness. Shadows played across his walls. They seemed like living, breathing things. He hesitated as he pulled off the covers and swung his feet toward the edge of the bed. What if the thing that lived under his bed grabbed him and pulled him under?
There was noise downstairs: “Who are you? Get out of my house!”
Then: A loud noise that made the boy jump. Followed by: A scream. Finally: Silence.
The boy held his breath as he listened. From below his floorboards he heard a gruff voice say, “Let’s find the boy.”
Without realizing what he was doing he felt his bare feet on the carpet. He jumped away from his bed, eyes wide and heartbeat frantic, staring at the opening between the bottom of the bed and the floor. There were no red eyes staring back at him. No clawed hands reaching out for his ankles. He turned toward the closet as the boots came to the top of the stairs. “You check that room, I’ll check this one.”
The boy’s hand reached for the handle to the closet, stopping just short. Tears fell from his face as he did his best to hide a whimper. He looked back at the space under his bed. There was nothing there. Maybe there’d be nothing in the closet. Closing his eyes he opened the door as the gruff voice again spoke, “Nothing? Let’s try that one.”
The boy entered the closet quietly, closing the door carefully behind him, and crawled inside the tiny opening that held suitcases and old lamps. A shadow caught his eye; A shadow with a long snout, and a singular cold eye. It wasn’t moving, so he hoped that whatever it was, it was sleeping. He did his best to stay quiet and still. His bedroom door opened and the men allowed themselves in.
The boy listened as the boots walked around on his lightly carpeted floor. A light found its way under the door and through the keyhole, making the boy wince as his eyes adjusted. There was a murmur of voices that the boy could just make out.
“What are you doing?”
“I wanted to see if the kid was in here. Calm down.”
“You’re going to get us caught waving that damn flashlight around. Now turn it off.” The light disappeared, leaving the boy enveloped in a shroud of black. “Speaking of the kid, where is he?”
“I don’t know. . . Let me check the closet.”
There was a momentary silence. “Alright… I’ll shut the blinds and then hurry up.” The boy’s eyes widened as he heard his blinds shut and the boots move towards his closet. He pressed himself closer to the wall as the closet door creaked open and a light invaded the space. The light moved back and forth, searching for something. Searching for him. He worried that the light would wake the sleeping monster across from him. He closed his eyes and listened. The only sound in the room was that of the men’s breathing. The boy wanted to scream, to attack whatever creatures were stalking him. He could feel his anger rising, his heartbeat quickening. The blood vessels in his brain pounded against his skull, screaming for a way out. Tears slid from his eyes into his mouth. He could no longer breath.
The boy opened his eyes and slowly looked back through the hole that was the crawlspace. The searching light and its owners were gone.
The boy emerged from his closet shaking. The house was quiet. The monsters had left. He looked toward his bed, there was nothing. He glanced behind him at the closet, nothing again. He looked toward his bedroom window, at the now closed blinds. Yes, he thought, that’s where the true monsters are.
Thriller in the scary night
Thriller in the scary night
Lucy knew she should have not walked in the scary alley. She could not help it. She had finished a very long day at work in the cafeteria and she was not thinking straight.
The narrow alley was filthy with rubbish, dead rats and decomposed food.
The place stank so badly Lucy fell nauseous.
The police had reported on many occasions a lot of women had disappeared in the last few years. Someone suggested the abductor was hiding somewhere ready to strike again making the alley very unsafe.
All these women would eventually reappear naked and dead with cuts and bruises on their bodies. The police found they were sexually assaulted before being fatally stabbed with a long knife.
Lucy felt very uncomfortable walking through the alley. She wanted to go through as quickly as possible. The alley was between old damage factories, which had not been used for years. So even if she was in danger and shouting for help no one would ever come to rescue her.
The alley was very long and there was no way to escape so she had to walk to the other side.
She heard a noise behind her. A light footstep was in the distance. She stopped. The noise stopped as well. She began to walk again and the footsteps were much louder. She started to walk more quickly but the mysterious stranger increased the speed to keep up.
Lucy looked back and said, “Who is there?”
No one replied.
Lucy started to cry and get agitated. She was so frightened. She glanced back and saw a shadow on the wall.
Her walk became a run but the mysterious stranger did not give up the chase and he began to run faster and faster.
Lucy could feel her heart beating in her chest. Her breath became heavier. She knew she could not hide anywhere or turn anywhere to escape from the mysterious stranger. She felt she was like an animal in a cage.
She glanced back for the third time and now the shadow was bigger. She could see the shadow was holding something in its right hand. She could not make out what it was. She assumed it was a knife. The metallic blade vibrated in the air making Lucy tremble violently.
The mysterious stranger was gaining on Lucy. She felt her chances to survival were becoming slimmer and slimmer. The mysterious stranger was almost behind her ready to strike.
Lucy saw the exit of the alley in front of her. Her eyes filled with joy. With her last attempt to survive she pushed her tired legs to the extreme.
Lucy collided against a body in front of her. She was lying on the floor. Thinking the mysterious stranger had managed to be in front of her, she began to crawl backwards from him.
“ Are you ok, madam?” the policeman said with a warm smile.
“I’m fine, thanks” Lucy replied with a relieved smile after catching her breath.
“Please take my hand, I will help you to stand up”
She was so happy to see a policeman in this area. She felt so safe now. She gave her hand and the policeman helped her.
“Have you walked down the alley?”
“Yes, I did”
“Did you know it is dangerous?”
“Yes, I heard. It was my mistake. I realised I was in the alley half way. Have you seen anyone coming out from the alley except me?”
“No madam, why did you?”
“I thought someone was chasing me with a knife”
“I can assure you no one came out from the alley except you. Tonight, I am patrolling this area to make it safe”
“I feel safe now thanks for being here”
“It is my duties, madam. I hope you have a safe journey”
“Thanks officer”
Lucy felt better even though she escaped from the danger. She felt not completely comfortable. There was a weird feeling the mysterious stranger could have followed her. She was walking in the main square where a lot of people were still out. She tried to look at their shadow to see if she could recognise the one, who had chased her earlier, but they were absolutely different. Even she tried to smell the air or hear the footsteps. None of them matched her memory.
There was not a trace of the mysterious stranger, Lucy was still very careful walking in the main street and taking the bus to go home.
She did not want to be off her guard. She was staring at anyone she could see and the people looked at her in surprise.
She was feeling more confident of herself after she recognised her street. She began to have more strength and she knew no one could harm her now. Her husband was home to protect her. No one would dare to enter her house and violate her.
She sighed with a sense of relief.
She walked out of the bus and walked for a brief moment. The street was very quiet. No one was walking except her. She smiled. She put the key in the front door and turned it. She opened it and closed behind her.
She put her head against the cold doorframe. She was so pleased to be home. She was not longer in danger. She was safe now turning the key.
Lucy was wrong about being safe. Someone was bashing the doorframe violently. She put her hand in front of her mouth in terror. The maniac pulled up the letterbox and let the knife inside. The knife was looking for her. It only found the letterbox and not being satisfied attacked the doorframe.
Lucy shouted ”Help, Steve”. Her voice echoed in the empty house. She forgot. Steve was on holiday and he would not be back until the following day. She was alone and frightened like a child.
A neighbour’s dog was barking awakened by the noise.
Lucy ran on the bare wood stairs but slipped injuring her knee. The maniac left the front door and smashed the back door. Lucy was trying to crawl forward with difficulties. Her knee was badly injured. She looked at the maniac. “I know you”
That were the last words she said. The maniac stabbed her several times leaving her body lifeless and in a pool of blood. He started to cut her beautiful red dress. He sexually touched her warm body. In his sick state of mind he was enjoying himself.
Then he stopped. He heard the police sirens. There were a lot of people surrounding the house. He stood up rooted to the floor knowing there was no escape.
Two officers entered the house from the back door and jumped on the maniac disarming and handcuffing him.
“Inspector, it is all clear”
“Well done officers! We have captured the maniac who has frightened the city for so long”
“You! I cannot believe it’s you! You are the best officer in the force. You have arrested so many criminals and the public love you”
“Why, Constable George Brown, have you killed all these women?” the inspector looked with eyes so intense they seemed to take fire.
“I don’t know sir. I have this animal instinct in me. I do not know what I was doing”
“Take him away. Away from me”
The two officers took George Brown to the police car.
“Why would such a great officer do this? Look at this beautiful woman. She doesn’t deserve to die” looking at her with eyes full of tears covering her cold body with a blanket.
Rayna -Ghost Story-
He didn’t look anything like she expected. His eyes a glowing almond that seemed tense with some sort of anger, his ebony hair plastered to his native skin and his lips tugging in a frightening sneer. Before she could speak, the hallway clock struck one and glass broke all around her. Soon a delightful smell of lavender overpowered her and the boy with his group of friends hurried back down the steps they came from. “Wait!” She tried to call out but more glass shattered then made her freeze. She quickly ran to the stairs, stumbling to make her way to the boys. Only they had disappeared. “Damn it.”
“Looking for someone, darling?” A husky male voice whispered in her ear. She turned to face the voice but no one was there. She searched through the darkness of the cafeteria but was disappointed to find nothing. “Wanna join us?” the words made her jump, a fearful shiver escaped up and down her spine.
“Who’s there?” she started but paused when there was no answer. “What do you mean by joining you?”
“This is what we mean.” The boy with the glowing eyes stepped out of the dark revealing a new him. His skin a sick gray color, cuts lashed into his skin. Before she could speak, in lightening speed; he was in front of her. He reached out his hands and it went right through her. Terrified, she fell backwards, over the stairs railings and onto the basement floor. A liquid red color seeping out of her skull, eyes widen with fright. The boy disappeared. The girl was named Rayna and she was found after a few days and the group of boys were never found. But it was said, a new girl came to school and she looked exactly like Rayna; only she seemed perfect, flawless. She hung out with a group of boys that also were perfect, with ghost-like features. They kept to themselves and whenever someone tried to talk to them; they went missing ot found dead.
The Shielded
I don’t like to think of it as “running”. No, let’s call it “traveling with the intent of avoiding a specific party”.
What you call it doesn’t matter, I guess. What does matter is that the Abunari have tracked me through six states up and down the Atlantic coast, and I need to keep moving.
I’ll assume you think that the Abunari is something like the mafia, some family organization geared toward money and corruption and a skewed view of honor. You’d be terribly wrong. The Abunari is ten times what the mafia could ever be with no clear understandable motivation. At least what the mafia does can be understood; the Abunari do what they do simply for the hell of it.
I guess with that much power it’s understandable.
I attacked one of them. They have this hobby of taking over largely public vehicles and crashing them into things. They like to watch your thoughts panic and bounce frantically around your aura as you see death approaching you, as you begin to comprehend that your life is terminating.
They live for that moment of clarity you experience right before impact. It feeds them.
I happened to be on that bus one of them overtook in Virginia. And I happened to notice that he didn’t even realize I was there. I looked him straight in the face. He looked right through me.
The Abunari do not “see” like you and I “see”. They perceive the world through something they like to call Visual Telepathic Energy. In essence, they don’t see you, they see your thoughts. Think something along the lines of thermal energy goggles.
I can’t explain it, but for some reason, they can’t see me. I have some sort of VTE shield, and they can’t penetrate it. That’s why the one on the bus couldn’t see me pull out the handgun I carry for protection and shoot him directly between the eyes. Now, of course, this didn’t kill him, but it stunned him long enough for us to toss him onto the road at 60 miles per hour. That didn’t kill him either.
I assume that’s why they want me so badly. It gives them something to chase, something to experiment on when they eventually catch me.
How are they tracking me? I can’t say that I’m entirely sure about that myself. My theory is that they can see me through other people’s VTE. Sure, they never had a clear basis for what I would look like to them, but I’m sure the one on the bus caught glimpses of me, even though he had no idea where I was or what I was doing. Using that, they simply follow me through the people that see me, those who happen to see a ratty, skinny, dirty young woman scaling scaffolds and running through shadows, those who happen to see me hop a bus to wherever.
That’s just a theory, though. I cannot claim to fully understand the Abunari. As I said: all that matters is that they’re tracking me, and I’ve got to keep moving.
All I care about is staying ahead. All I care about is finding others like me, other Shielded, so that maybe we can start a resistance. The Abunari want to tear this world apart; I don’t feel inclined to let them. There are more out there, somewhere, and I’m going to find them.
So I’ll keep moving. Be on the lookout for a woman in the shadows, beyond the perception of everyday life. That’s where I’ll be, preparing to fight.
Will you?
Dead: A Frank D. Wilson Narrative
Nancy is a new generation
Nancy is a new generation of computers programmed to respond biologically she has built-in human shortcomings including conflicted feelings uncertainty sense of soul pre-installed parts of her are dying she can feel it after elaborate shower focusing on specific body selections underarms feet vagina ass face allowing other anatomical regions to retain natural biotech oils lathering scalp with premiere restructuring shampoo conditioner she dries applies fastidious refined moisturizer emollients to forehead eyelids mouth neck areas vigorously massages special mousse treatment into brunette hair cut medium length brushes teeth rinses with spearmint mouthwash lightly rouges face with extra fine powder mist meticulously paints eyes lips with conventional colors finally adding distinctive subtle scents behind ears neck décolletage wrists thighs derriere toes tonight will be 2nd date with Rick handsome successful options trader who has no idea Nancy is extremely sophisticated complex doll meeting at catch.com on their 1st date Rick has too much to drink possibly owing to his nervousness or shyness around Nancy who possesses regal beauty bearing yet infectious smile laugh he spills 3rd drink then orders 4th drink Nancy becomes courteously standoffish
Bob’s LG electronic 27.5 cubic foot French door refrigerator’s water filter ice system located on door is malfunctioning spewing out brown fetid ice chips onto extremely intricate decorative parquet (palace style) floor consequently leaking into downstairs neighbors custom design ceiling dwelling to make matters worse Bob’s smart phone is on the blink his internet connection down due to unpredicted wild winds he is beside himself in isolated frustration compounding this calamity is foreboding realization Bob highly trained biotech computer programmer may have miscalculated tiny chip link inside Nancy’s cerebellum stem
as Nancy is about to open door for eagerly waiting Rick holding small gift box in hand with note that reads thank you for giving me a 2nd chance something quite irregular unforeseen pleasure fear motor impulse tenses snaps inside her head she reaches for door handle while other hand grasps butcher knife
quit talking let’s eat
grabbing her by throat hair he holds gun barrel to right eye with free hand she edges fingers into boot pulls dagger plunges it into his heart
i didn’t mean to do that i meant to do this
i’m trying to figure out how other people deal with disappointment of old age i guess they arrive at some settlement some settlement that eludes me
very few figure out meaning of their lives until it’s too late then become detectives trying to figure out whys if you wake up tomorrow you’ve got a shot at new day no one in this world knows what might happen
i believe people can do change maybe not their nature but spiritually emotionally intellectually psychologically i recognize change within myself i did could now never commit acts different from who i was more scared sensitive hopeful pure honest longing for love probably i sound corny all i want is mutual love adoration in way it was easier when i was thoughtless i got pussy i don’t know
poet must face every conceivable fear terror no matter how despairing risk walking away from table without chips
there are good people and bad people sometimes good people make bad mistakes sometimes bad people make smart choices
for decades he lived knowing no one valued him except his family collecting his paintings reading his works praising his efforts his entire career an inside job
her graying disheveled hair muddy smudged apron raw arthritic fingers she cooks meal washes dishes a million trillion dishes thankless life mom what’s for dinner
some people see it all coming plan invest i never saw any of it coming i never imagined
the sickly smell of grandpa’s farts lingers in room nauseating family
he held shivering abandoned puppy in arms she whimpered repeatedly he swore in that moment to protect her stood by his promise until he buried her
wild wolf chases him growling snapping nipping at ankles tearing jeans biting drawing blood he runs
pitiable old men everyone knows old men are impotent jokes with no pack to punch just harmless peevish impediments what good are they what purpose do they serve get the muther-freaking out of the road old man
riotous advancing mob overcome military police
sharing yoga class old man attending his skin thin as parchment bled i cleaned his blood from mat every class until he died
after puncturing her maidenhood reaching orgasm he strokes head of 8 year old daughter good girl good girl daddy is so proud
skin him alive skin him alive little girl asks what’s different about poetry from standard writing grandpa answers i have no answers
not possible yet happening gradually suddenly amidst bribes bargaining lies government collapses citizenry unleash in anarchy yearning for change
Mom’s fogginess i sense it beginning in myself possibly inherited will i become like Mom there’s no one looking out for me Mom i’m looking out for you
after 30 or 40 years life is over don’t believe what they tell you
when i’m dead what will they unearth in my personal effects writings paintings letters emails bookmarks internet visitations or gossip accusations from those still alive probably allege another selfish decadent fool squandered resources missed opportunities misses the mark
maybe in 5 years i will live in New York City London Paris Tokyo Tahiti with beautiful wife who will spread her buns want me to fuck her grab my balls at least once a day
there is a star in north sky that shines i understand you looking away when pain gets too great please look into my eyes when throbbing subsides
don’t make it any harder than it has to be please find it in your heart to forgive me i am so sorry
yup i’ve got cash guns friends in Canada Mexico Netherlands France first let’s make a run for the border then later think about a boat
oh yeah one last remark fuck you haters bigots greedy bastards all you big city fat cats small town big fish fearful suburban housewives over-cautious grannies gangsters politicians real-estate lawyers moneylenders fraudulent priests fuck you all you movie actor phony smile celebrities cliché skinny jean cowboy boot rock stars all you left-wing right-wing tea-party outer-space inner-space freaks fuck you i can’t don’t know how to explain myself fuck you all
Stream of Consciousness by Keith Camp
Hahaha, I can’t believe she fell for it, stupid bitch, stupid girl, now look at you. I can’t take it anymore. Not today. Not now, not today not now WHY! What the fuck were you doing to me, you can’t just draw me in with your blood lust, show me what you got, put the knife in me you fucking whore, yes, of course I want our blood to slip in and out of us. My god it feels so fucking good, just like the song says, getting fucked with a knife. Oh the way she grabs my head, almost pleading to stop, but the eyes won’t leave mine, she can’t break the gaze, she slaps, you bitch, dig harder, dig harder, DIG HARDER. More blood, I want you all over me. A true bloody kiss, I’ll earn my own red wings thank you very much. They say you’re sick, they say I’m sick, you say I’m sick I say you’re fucked up. My beautiful one and only succubus, draw it out of me, open me up, let me open you up. I love your beautiful steel bracelets you have on, and the chains they are attached to match so eloquently. You can’t see me through your blindfold but the bloody smile on your face tells me I’m doing something right. Goddamn girl, goddamn girl, goddamn girls, goddamngirls, goddamn me. God damned me. I am your God, I damn you. Damn you to be my fucking slave. A willing participant. I think I’m in love.