You saw me running along the road, you watched as friends, strangers, everyone passed me by. You stopped. You started walking, told me to slow down, said there was no rush. You began telling me about this world I’d fallen into, you taught me how to survive it. When I was strong enough, big enough, you helped me get a faster mode of getting around. Then you rode with me.
When you couldn’t hang out, you still talked. All the time you would send me messages. Asking about my day, asking if I was ok. And when I asked the same you would always tell me, I’m good, nothing gets me down. You took me to new places in the world, taught me how to make it through, it never occurred to me that you were teaching me more than just our little world.
I heard you and your wife split up. She thought you were spending too much time in the world we shared. The others that wandered there with us tried to make light of it, as did you. I found you by our tree and we talked for hours. You told me some of the other reasons she left, that this world was not the only one you would get distracted by. Your wife understood your desire to be in this world, to help me. She understood that without your help I would have long left not only this world but the one they call “real life”. She and I had spoken about the darkness that had fallen upon me, about the end of my heart. She believed me when I said you had saved me. She did not begrudge me your time, but there were so many others demanding it that she felt she was lost in the crowd. She may have been right, she may not have been, but you never spoke badly of her after she left, and would allow no one else to do so. We spoke about it once only, after that you declared yourself “fine” and moved on.
We spoke less as time went by. Your job took you away from our world more and more. But you would show up once in a while and my message would read “Hey girl” and my evening would lighten, my thoughts improve, the weight of my world would lift from my shoulders, and I would smile. Always. We would talk, a lot, or barely at all, but knowing you were near made everything better. You would catch up to me in the darkest, furthest reaches of our world, and cause them to be filled with light as we hunted our prey. Nothing, no one stood a chance when you were with me.
You became silent. No entries into our world, so I messaged you in the daily world. “Are you ok? I miss you.” You told me you were a little sick, that other worlds were too draining right now but that you’d be back to run with me soon. You promised. I went to your funeral today. You didn’t come back. You left us all.
My heart aches, I can still hear you giving me shit as you laugh when you realized that I had wanted a pet like yours and so did not have one yet. I was too little to have your pet and would have no other until I was big enough. You gave me such a bad time; you showed me where to find one similar to yours but that I could get being so little. I still have him, you helped me get him and so I will always have him. I’ve run the old paths, fought the old fights, returned to the beginning and found a pet like yours. I’ve named him after you so that you will remain, at least in some form, in our world.
You’ll never see this, most that know you will never see this. But I needed to say the words. I miss you, I love you, I will remember you, for always, forever, my JB. ❤



An Interlude

The suede was soft against her closed eyes, pressing gently against her cheeks, the silk ties wrapped tightly around her head holding it in place; the blindfold heightening her awareness of her body, of the room. She could feel the air in the room moving across her warm skin, cooling her slightly, causing her nipples to tighten. She moved her arm slightly, all that she was able. The silk rope tied tightly, restricting her movements, increasing her desire to move. Her feet were bound in a similar fashion, leaving her centre open, leaving her completely vulnerable. She could feel the silk sheet cool to the touch, but warm beneath her, increasing her temperature. She could not hear him, she could not see him, but she could feel his presence. As if he were laying with her, touching her already. She felt her nipples tighten further in anticipation; she could feel a dampness forming between her legs.

She shivered slightly, but he was aware that she was far from cold. He stayed by the doorway, looking over his handiwork one last time. He stepped closer to the bed silently, stopping when he was even with her waist. He slowly began to glide the feather from the tips of her toes up her leg, pausing briefly to fan her, tease her, before moving along to her belly, up to her breasts. He knows what she expects, they’ve played this game before. But he chooses to change the rules a little. He doesn’t wish to wait, tonight he is hungry.

She feels him step away. This is unusual but she presumes he’s forgotten something, heard something, whatever. They’ve been doing this in stages, tonight is the first with the blindfold. They’ve only just begun playing with each other, but she’s known him a few months now. He was right, the blindfold makes everything more intense. She hears him come back, he slides his finger along her lower lip and she opens her mouth. She feels his finger lightly touch her tongue, she tastes something, sort of medicinal. When he removes his finger she tries to ask him what it was but her tongue is numb. She feels it slowly spreading, down her throat, her chest, her arms. She’s trying to move, trying to scream now, but she has no control of her body any longer, her vocal cords inert. She can’t move, can’t scream, but she can feel and she wishes she couldn’t.

By the time they found her on Monday, he was long gone.

Crimson Duchess

Paul Sampson

When I offered to do this, I had no idea what it was I was offering to do. I know big surprise. Someone says “Hey do this to help Paul” and I sign up before I even know what I’m doing. That being said, I then requested some guidance. I was told that I could write about Night of the Templar (NOTT), I could write purely about Paul, I could write whatever I wished so long as there was a way to tie it to NOTT.  Well now…that gave me more leeway that I knew what to do with. After some serious thought I came up with an idea. I decided that I would simply write what I thought about Paul (that I am willing to say out loud that is). After all, anything to do with him was bound to tie in to NOTT as well. Or not…but I thought it was worth a shot 😉

So let’s begin with Paul. The first time I met him on Twitter, I had no idea who he was. I was told this guy throws great Twitter parties. I had no idea what a Twitter party was. I’d been online only a week or so at that point so as all good little girls do, I did what I was told. They were right, the man was fun to talk to, had a great sense of humour, and an imagination that totally blew me away. Of course they were also telling me how hot he was but I only had Twitter on my phone and it wasn’t showing me any pictures at that point. I promised myself I would look him up when I got home and then promptly forgot. Now don’t misunderstand, he made a strong impression. But at times I have a memory like a sieve and well that seems to have been one of those times. I of course remembered the next time he came online the following week and I went to look him up after he logged off.

The first picture I saw of Paul was the same one he uses on Twitter, primarily because, as I was heading home to look him up, my phone updated and all of a sudden, there he was. What I noticed immediately were his eyes. And to be honest it was all I was going to notice for a while. Look at this picture and tell me that his eyes don’t hold yours.


Later I found other pictures, in particular some rather sexy ones. But if you ask Paul about them he will tell you it’s all Photoshop, or in the case of his eyes, contacts. I don’t really believe him but I’ll admit it makes me laugh when he says it. One must remember though, as good looking as the man is, it’s not what he’s about. He’s a chameleon. He is so striking and yet when you see him in a variety of roles you will find yourself doing a double take simply because you can’t believe it’s him. A friend introduced me to his character Shamus, from the short “Clown” directed by Tate Steinsiek, and I was amazed that the scary ass clown on the screen was Paul. If you compare the picture above with the picture of Shamus, you’ll understand my confusion.


The next item on my agenda was to actually watch NOTT. Being in Canada I was unable to find it at Wal-Mart or some of the other places I normally buy my movies. I was able to buy it off of Amazon however and was rather impatiently waiting for it’s arrival. As soon as it arrived it was in the player and on my screen. In the movie Paul plays not simply one character but two, very different men. As Jake McCalister, he is a peaceful, laid back, easy going kind of guy. You get the impression that, although people can disappoint him, he barely has even a cross word for anyone. Then there is Lord Gregoire. He is full of fire, passion, and completely dedicated to his cause. He fights, he kills, but he mourns the loss of each soul. Although the two men look similar, there are obvious differences which become less pronounced as the movie progresses. (If you’ve seen it you know what I am referring to. If you haven’t, why not?)

As for the movie itself I must be honest. It was the first indie film I had ever knowingly watched. I had no idea what I was in for. I was expecting a Hollywood style film and so was confused to begin with. Indie films are so much different, so much more in some ways. Because it is an Indie Paul had more control as to how things looked, what direction they went it, and what we would eventually see on our screens. As I stated earlier the man has a very vivid imagination and it drew me in. The first time I watched it was almost like skimming a book. I caught all the big things but the more subtle scenes, characters, and dialog sort of drifted softly against my mind. They left an impression but it was almost invisible. As I’ve watched it again (several times, and no I won’t say how many times so stop asking me) these softer, less pronounced moments have left their mark. Each time I’ve watched, some things have become more…there, less hidden. It’s not that they’ve suddenly had a spotlight shone upon them, it’s as if I am made aware of their impact on the movie as a whole. Should you ask some of my friends they might tell you that I watch it purely for one scene in particular but, as much as I love it, I do eventually un-pause the movie and continue on.  😉

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Oh! Are you still here? Sorry I may have gotten a little distracted…my apologies.

Overall, so far as NOTT is concerned, I find that as my first Indie film it was a great choice. It drew me in, it introduced me to some folks that I am happier for having met, and it showed me what a real imagination is capable of.

In regards to Paul Sampson? The man amazes me. He is imaginative, brilliant, funny, and talented. His look, his voice, his bearing, all change with the role he plays, although I must say that I even find that scary ass clown to be rather sexy. I am looking forward to seeing and experiencing what he comes out with next. I may not know what form it will take but it will be an adventure, and in the end that’s why I watch movies in the first place. Thank you Paul.

Crimson Duchess