And he waits

A collaboration And he waits

He glides silently through the trees, not a sound to be heard. No footprints left behind to mar the path. He comes up to the house,opens a door that no longer remains, and goes inside.

It’s dark, and she’s late.

She said she’d be here, made him promise he would wait. And so he would. He’d never let her down before,he would not start now.

He stands in the room waiting. She said she’d be there at duskShe couldn’t handle being apart anymore. She needed him.

He’s nervous. He doesn’t know how it will go. Her father hates him, but he loves her, and he will wait.

Photo by Jason Sinner

Photo by Jason Sinner

As he sits in the dark, he reminisces. Remembering the day he met her. They met at church. She came out from services. He was mowing the lawn

He’d never seen anyone so beautiful. And he almost ran over one of the large rocks that lined the flower bed because he couldn’t stop staring at her

She was an angel without wings and she stole his heart before her eyes met his. Within 6 hours he was courting her. Within six weeks he had bought a ring

He was so nervous it took him three tries before he could even get the words out. And when she said yes, her love shining like diamonds in her eyes he knew he’d never be happier.

And then came morning. As he stood on her father’s doorstep, his love screaming and crying in the background. Her father gave him back the ring

“My daughter will not marry beneath her station” he said, slamming the door in his face

It was nearly a month before he saw her again, exiting the church, her hand grasped firmly by her father as he dragged her to the car, her eyes silently pleading for him to rescue her, to save her

He waited until 3 am, and quietly tapped one knuckle lightly on her window. He saw her shadow as she slipped out of bed, the moonlight causing her white cotton nightgown to softly glow. She tiptoed to the window, parted the sheer curtains, pressing her hand against the glass and mouthed

“I’m locked in”

He breathed heavily on the glass, and trailing his fingertip through the fog. Wrote PACK and she smiled and nodded, and mouthed “when.” He breathed again, and wrote 3 AM TOMORROW and melted away, blowing a kiss as he became yet another shadow

The day lasted forever, the minutes ticked like hours. And he waited

Photo by Jason Sinner

Photo by Jason Sinner

When he arrived, expectant and excited. She wasn’t there. But her father was, sitting in a chair from the dining room

His shotgun across his lap

He was devastated when her father told him she was gone, he’d never see her again. The next few months passed in a daze, unknown, unremembered, lost in the memories of her eyes and her smile

Reality came with an unexpected boon. A letter from HER and his heart began to beat again and he could breath.. She begged him to meet her at the old rundown shack on the back quarter of her grandmother’s land.

He drove his dusty pickup along the overgrown trail, turning off his headlights so as not to arouse suspicion. He cringed, his heart pounding as nails dragged across the roof, only to become a branch in the rear-view mirror.

He parked behind the old place, out of view of the house and the road, in his eagerness he was early, and so he grabbed his guitar. Like a talisman against the dark and went inside.

As the sun dips beneath the horizon, the sky ablaze with colour, his anticipation grew. He strained his ear for any sound, his eyes peering out into the shadows. But it is silent, no movement to be seen, not even the songs of the nightbirds to keep him company.

And still he waited.

jason b w

Photo by Jason Sinner

He awoke with a start, the sound of footsteps just outside the entry. Dashing to the doorway, a smile on his lips, his heart bursting with joy as he stepped out into the darkness.

It wasn’t her.

Her father stood in the trees, her cousins and uncles at his side and not a one was unarmed. He stopped short, his heels slipping slightly in the dewy leaves. Against his throat, the double barrels of the shotgun rested “I told you she was too good for you, but you just don’t listen.”

He opened his mouth, and it was suddenly filled with the taste of metal and guessed it wasn’t his turn to speak. “I don’t think I can buy you off or convince you to leave. but she’ll think you did.” He tried to step back and collided with a wall of bodies.

He was surrounded. The barrels were removed from his mouth and he abruptly flew as the butt of the weapon smashed against his cheek. He heard a wolf’s cry in the distance, and trembled, fear overtaking him at last. He knew this would not end well.

He glanced up, seeing a shadow cross his vision. The moonlight blocked as the men begin to pummel him. Unable to do more than whisper her name.The lone wolf’s voice the only accompaniment to the grunts of the men surrounding him.

At dawn’s light, the farmhands came upon his body, the last of his life’s blood dying the leaves and ground beneath him, and the last few struggling breaths in his lungs escaping through his lips; Barely a sigh, and her face his final thought. They buried him in the old cellar

A few nights later, inside the rundown shack, a gentle strumming was heard, nearby wolf song providing the melody.

If you looked closely enough you could almost see him walking through the trees to the shack. A shadow darts through the trees, a flash of white, a glimpse of a bare foot, her breath coming in short gasps,as though she’s been running and crying for hours.

She glides to the doorway, her hand resting on the splintered wood. She sees his guitar laying forgotten in the corner and rushes to pick it up, holding it close as though it were him, and weeps. From inside, a rattle, and she turns it over, feeling her ring tumble into her hand

Smiling, she places the ring upon her finger, and wipes the tears from her cheeks. She steps outside into the darkness, walks like a ghost to the drivers side of his pickup and finds the key still in the ignition. She can almost imagine it retains the heat from his hand. She places the guitar beside her on the seat, and turns the key. The engine roaring as the truck drives towards where her family awaits their destiny

The paper the next day told tale of a horrible accident. One of the more prominent families in town nearly wiped out. The only surviving member, a three week old girl.

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The Orphan Killer 2 Bound x Blood Created by Matt Farnsworth ©™ Full Fathom 5 Productions LLC

The Orphan Killer 2
Bound x Blood
Created by Matt Farnsworth
©™ Full Fathom 5 Productions LLC

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“The characters Marcus Miller, and Babysister are owned by  Matt Farnsworth”
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B3KWaP2IEAAiMFCCrash Palace Productions – Fear Is In The Mind

408173_348527711901523_1952763067_n Visit C. William Giles site today and read his marvelous first novel ….Of Tortured Faustian Slumbers

Broken

Dear Journal;

Broken

Shattered

Destroyed

I feel as if these words describe not only my heart but my soul as well. Can a soul be shattered? I feel as if there is nothing left to wake up for in the morning, nothing left to care about, nothing left to live for. It has all passed me by and I was looking the other way.

Drifting

Lost

Abandoned

My mind is wandering, aimless, unsure. Lost in a morass of fear, doubt, pain. My focus is gone, my thoughts scattered to the four winds, hidden from myself. Before I had hearts, hands, souls to help me find my way back. Now, now I am alone.

I know who I am, who I am supposed to be, what my purpose is. I have found though that I do not care. It began several months ago. I am only now free of that place, that man, the drugs, and the fear. Well perhaps not the fear. If I were free of the fear I would not be constantly glancing over my shoulder, would I? I would not have a need to have every light in the house turned on, only turning them off in the light of day. When my sisters see my electric bill they will not be pleased with me. Oh dear god, my sisters. I’m going to have to tell my sisters. Of course, it would have been nice if even one had noticed that I was not attending our usual Sunday dinners. Noticed and then come to see if they could locate me. I know I have missed a dinner or two in the past but I have never missed without letting someone know. Normally I would have contacted someone. My other sisters have missed previously, without a call, or a text. I’ve always made a point of swinging by to see if everything was alright….

No, this is his fault. His alone. Not theirs. They would not have known where to look for me, and had one come along perhaps he would have kept her as well. Or killed her. No I can’t think about that. I must remember that everyone else is alright. I could not bring myself to speak with any of them tonight, I needed to come home, shower. Did you know that showering in an empty house can be terrifying? The silence is oppressive. However do not turn on the radio or television before you shower. The silence is preferable to the sounds that cover up footsteps, breathing, doors opening….

Stop! I went by our family home before I came here. I silently peered through the living room window, and in doing so determined it was Sunday. The wine was open, popcorn made, they were watching a movie. It’s one we’ve all watched several times in the past. I was surprised to see my brothers as well. They seldom join us and I will admit that I wanted to go inside, crawl into the lap of one of our boys, and stay there. Of course I could not let them see me like that. Stolen clothes, covered in blood (not all of it mine, he felt pain before he died), my hair full of dirt, my skin covered in cuts, bruises, needle tracks…. Thank God I have seven days until Sunday.

My family is a little… unusual. We are none of us family by blood, simply by choice. We found each other gradually over the years. We know that we will most likely find more as time passes, it is the nature of our bond. We have had siblings leave, their paths veering away from ours. We have also suggested, rather firmly I might add, that a sibling or two is no longer welcome in the family home. I cannot help but wonder if my recent actions will cause my departure to be desired.

We each have a virtue that we identify with strongly. My gift has been eloquence, the capability to speak and be heard, to bring the truth to light without causing offense. I have been told that although I was not born with a silver spoon, I was blessed with a silver tongue. My family knows that a portion of my gift is the ability to broadcast my desired outcome, the positive emotions that I wish to be felt by the others involved. I have recently found out that I am also capable of permitting my fear, my anger, and my hate to be felt by others as well. How I wish I had never been taught that lesson.

I don’t actually know how it began, one moment I was home, the next I was not. The day had begun like most any other. My phone ringing. It was, of course, one of my sisters. Raven needed my help. Her primary talent is Justice but she sometimes let it over take her. She’d gotten herself into a little bit of a pickle and needed me to talk to the group and smooth things over. Not a huge issue. So I told her I would have a quick shower, then head on to meet up with her. I never made it. I was in the shower, I heard a thump and I called out. I thought one of my sisters was over. I saw a shadow on the curtain. And then nothingness.

When I awoke all I could feel was heat, surrounding me, entrapping me. No escape. I couldn’t move, my eyes opened in panic to see nothing, darkness. I couldn’t help myself and I began to twist, whimper, cry. Suddenly I was able to move, the heat dissipating, and I felt a light touch on my arm. “Shhhhh…relax my sweet. Everything is fine, you’re safe.” A soft, masculine voice, unfortunately not a familiar voice.

“Where am I? Why can’t I see?” I wanted to shout with every fiber of my being, but that never gets anyone anywhere. I felt myself broadcast a little of my fear, just a small amount. I didn’t know if it would work, I’d never tried fear before. Concern but never fear. But then again, what had I ever truly been afraid of?

“No my sweet, none of that.” I felt a sharp prick in my arm and that was the end of that. Every time I woke he was there. If I tried to broadcast my emotions, another needle. If I screamed, another needle. If I cried, or carried on in any fashion, again the needle. As time passed I began to wake more quietly. I felt around my space using what senses I had available. As touch and sight were out of the equation I had to listen, keep myself calm and pay attention when he entered the room.

Damn it, Jes just pulled into the drive. I’ll be back. She can’t see this.

home-safesecure-large

Dear Journal;

Jes saw a light on and decided to stop. She said she thought I was out of town. Wanted to know where I went for six months without telling anyone. Six months. She also gave me shit for disappearing on our sister. She had to go help Raven, though she said there was a bad taste left behind that nothing could fix. I told her to stop ranting at me that I’d explain on Sunday what happened so I only have to do so once. The light was behind me so she couldn’t see the bruises.

Anyway, after a time (I’m not sure how long) I realized that when it was really quiet, I could hear other voices. The only one that seemed able to tell when I was broadcasting was the man in charge of me, so to speak. I began to send out gentle waves of concern. I could sense a woman in the room to my left, and a man in the one to my right. I knew without trying though that he wasn’t going to be around much longer. I could feel he was letting go. I tried to send him courage, strength, hope. All I received in return was despair. The next time I woke, I sensed nothing. He was gone.

The next day I made contact, of a sort, with the woman. I could tell when she was medicated, when she was simply sleeping, and when she was awake. Sleeping meant nightmares. Fear. Awake meant terror. I could only help for short periods of time. Her fear, her terror, increased my own. So I had to keep my contact with her to a minimum. I believed that instead of becoming despondent like that man had, that she was losing her mind. There were times I heard her screaming, but the laughing was the worst. Neither lasted long though, and then I could sense she’d been drugged again.

My captor was away more. I had more time between his visits. More time awake. I’d begun to notice that my body was in pain. The only times I knew anyone was in the room was when he would come in and the world would disappear with the prick in my arm. I started to wonder what was happening when I was unaware.

I’m not certain how long it took but I must have built up a resistance to the drug. He didn’t know as I tried to be silent when I woke. I could hear him in the room sometimes, writing on occasion, sounds I didn’t recognize other times. I would stay silent, contained, hidden. I would wait, sometimes half an hour, sometimes longer before I’d try to send out calm, hope, to the lady in the next room. If I didn’t wait long enough he would come back and I’d get another needle. I finally woke very early one day. I could feel his hands on my body. He was touching me, everywhere. Pinching, squeezing, slapping. No wonder I hurt every day. After that nearly every time I woke he was touching me in some manner. I did my best to remain calm, quiet, let him think I was still out. I didn’t always succeed.

Then one day I felt the needle when he came in, but I didn’t go completely under. I could hear him talking to another man. I couldn’t track the words though, the drug made that nearly impossible. I couldn’t move either but I was aware. And then I wished I wasn’t. They took turns using my body. Not just the two, but several men. Different touches, different voices, different men all using my body for their enjoyment. Now I knew why I was bound, blindfolded, why I was being held against my will. My terror overwhelmed me, and that was all I knew for a while.

Next time I woke I awoke screaming. He spoke to me and I did not stop, I think it was a few days before I woke again. He changed my drug, I was solidly out again. This time when I woke I planned. I needed to get out. I’d been waiting, hoping that one of my sisters would arrive, tell me that I was in the hospital, tell me what had happened. They would never have left me in a place like this though. So now I knew, I had to get out on my own. But how? My hands and feet were firmly strapped to the bed. I wondered about the lady in the other room. Was she trapped as I was? Were they doing to her what they were doing to me?

Then a couple of days ago, while it was still quiet all around me, I woke suddenly. In the silence I could hear her tears. Her fears filled the room with screaming, though there was no sound to be heard. Her pain, her sense of loss, her anguish surrounded me, drowning me in her.

I began to speak. Softly, gently, low. If there was anyone walking past none but she could hear. And she heard. If only she had not heard. My words fueled her, commanded her. My words drove her. Her actions were my thoughts. My pain, my sorrow, my hatred. Her body was free, mine was not. My mind, my voice were all I had. She became my avatar. My puppet. My saviour. Their death.

She had been unresponsive for days. They no longer bothered to bind her to the bed. When her controller entered the room, she used my anger, my hatred, my out and out uncontrollable rage as her fuel. I whispered thoughts of death, mayhem, blood and she made them real. When he was dead I still did not release her from me. She killed the man in the hall, tore him limb from limb. After she released me from my bindings I stumbled to the door, leaning against it I looked out and watched his life merge with the water he had been washing the floor with. I did not mourn him though. If he was not one of the men that raped us, then he left us to them.

God damn it, who’s here now? I need to finish this. I need to get it out. But the doorbell is ringing. I’ll be back.

Screaming

Dear Journal;

I need to be more careful. Devine stopped in, noticed all the lights on, and started to walk around turning them off. I had to lie, I told her I was looking for a mouse. That I thought I’d seen one and didn’t want to turn off the lights until I found it. She turned to look at me, she looked concerned and I thought I hadn’t done a good enough job with the cover-up but then she shivered and said she hoped I was wrong but maybe I could borrow a cat. I’m going to have to stop leaving the lights on all the time. It’s attracting too much attention. Tomorrow I’m going to get a lock for my bedroom door. Maybe I’ll be able to sleep. With my room at the back of the house my sisters shouldn’t notice these lights on all night.

I still don’t know her name. I guess I never will now. They killed her, they killed her as if they had plunged the knife into her body themselves. But he wasn’t there yet. They’d called him so he was on his way. But he wasn’t there yet and none of the others seemed to feel my broadcast as an outside thing.

We’d gotten part way down the hall. We were opening doors, trying to release anyone else we found. We only found two others that could walk. There were others but they weren’t going anywhere. One man had his legs broken, and they didn’t set them properly. He told me he’d tried to escape and that was his punishment. He asked me to kill him. I told him I couldn’t. I should have then, I did later but not by choice. She’d picked up the mop, and broken off the handle. As I was untying another lady she turned and put it through some guy’s throat. He came running into the room, yelling at us. She didn’t like the yelling. I tried to rein in my emotions a little, the other lady was becoming violent as well and I realized I was still affecting them. I should have let it be though.

We found a man near the end of the hall, he could walk but there was something about him that made me nervous. We let him free anyway and he joined us. We went around a corner and into a large open space, there was a kitchen area on the other side of the room and I could see knives from where I was standing. I thought it was odd that there was no one around but I took it as a blessing and we went across the room. We each collected a couple of knives. The new lady didn’t want to but I told her to grab a couple anyway. I said she didn’t have to use them but it would keep her from looking like easy prey.

As we slipped into the next hallway, I noticed all the doors were open, no one to rescue, nowhere for anyone to be hiding. I started to calm down. I could see the doors leading to the outside world just a few meters away. As I calmed down so too did my companions, but I didn’t see it. I was walking in front with the first woman. I really wish I’d asked her name. As my emotions settled, my broadcast ebbed. I thought we were all there for the same thing. I thought we were all being used in the same manner. I have to admit I was confused when behind me I heard a gurgle. As we turned around we saw that the man we had rescued had cut the other woman’s throat. He was smiling. He was covered in her blood, and he was smiling as he moved towards us.

I froze. And because I froze so did the lady I started all of this with. Because she froze, he plunged a knife into her stomach. He did it almost as an afterthought. He was walking towards us, his eyes holding my own, he was nearly past her, she had stopped sooner than I did. Then his hand moved almost lazily to the side and I heard the sound of the knife plunging into her. His smile grew as he pulled it back out, his hand covered in gore as he sliced to the side. He made it two more steps towards me, a couple more and he would be close enough to kill me too, and still I stood. My fear had paralyzed me, he was nearly to me when he stopped with a look of confusion on his face. He should have made certain she was dead, or at least down for the count. Her pain woke her from my fear. Her kitchen knives were in his back. One in the middle, one looked to be in his kidney. As he fell her eyes locked on mine. I caught her before she hit the ground, I held her as she bled out, I cried as the light left her eyes, and I could no longer feel her presence.

I’m not certain how long I sat on the floor with her in my arms. Her blood pooled around me on the floor, his blood mingled with hers but I could not make myself move further away. I hear the doorbell but I need to finish this now. Whoever it is can come back later. It’s taken me two days to get this far, and I have yet to sleep. Maybe when I finish I will.

I heard voices coming towards me. One man was talking on a cell phone, telling someone that we were free, that the others were dead, I was the only one remaining. I waited until he was off the phone, until he and the other men were closer, and then I sent them my rage. Their targets? Each other. I sent my rage, my hatred, and my fear to all of them. The one with the phone suddenly turned to the man beside him and the phone went through his mouth. That was the only one to die quickly. As he turned to another, he turned his back to one and he suddenly lost a part of his spine. He collapsed and I watched him die. It took a while. The one holding the spine suddenly had a chair smash over his head. I lost track of what was happening for a little while as the remaining 5 men made each other bleed. When it was down to one, I put her gently on the floor, took up my knives and walked towards him. I sent him wave upon wave of trust, love, desire. By the time I was close to him he was rather randy. I let him watch as I cut it off. Then one of my knives went through his eye into his brain, he was dead before his scream fully materialized. I went and sat back with the lady, pulled her back onto my lap, and told her that they had paid for what they did to us and that I was going to take a short rest before I went home. I believe I passed out for a while.

Controller

The next thing I remember is looking up and seeing the man that was my controller. I’d never seen him before but I recognized his voice when he spoke. He tried to take her away from me. I screamed, loud. He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a needle. I know it was to calm me down but after everything I had just been through I was not going back into that room. No one would touch me again. This man would not get near enough ever again. As he came closer I gathered my strength, and flung her at him. It knocked him over, the needle went flying. By the time he got out from under her, the needle was in my hand, and then in his arm. He was out in moments.

Had I left then I could have told my family what happened. They would have helped me deal with the repercussions, with the stress, and the fear. I would have spent the last two days with my sisters helping me to pack while my brothers went looking for a new place for me, something with enough security to please them. But I didn’t. I should have but I stayed.

I took him to one of the empty rooms that we had passed, I didn’t think there would be enough time to put him through even half of what we went through but I wanted him to feel fear. So I put the cuffs on him, and a blindfold. The door closed, locked, just in case. In another drawer I found a gag, I didn’t want him to be able to distract me, to make me change my mind. I didn’t want to hear him beg. And then I waited for him to wake.

It must have been a low dosage as he woke no more than an hour later, I think. I’m afraid my sense of time has escaped me somewhat. He jerked awake, his screams muffled by the gag, his muscles straining against the cuffs. I spoke quietly to him. He had to stop screaming if he was to hear my words. He did for a moment, and then he realized what I was saying. The screams began again. As he thrashed, and pulled I slid a knife under his pants leg. He felt the cool metal and stopped moving. I think he was afraid that I might cut him. Up one leg at a time, at the top I allowed the blade to touch his manhood, gently but enough to make him scream in fear. As I cut his shirt off I turned the blade over and left a thin slice along his pectoral muscles, very lightly, it was barely there. But it made him shriek and I was beginning to enjoy his muffled sounds. That should have told me it was time to leave but I didn’t want to.

After I disrobed him I began to broadcast my fear to him. He was already afraid and I made him terrified. I whispered softly to him, telling him what I wanted him to do, what I wanted him to feel. I told him what she had felt, what she had done, and I whispered that he would do so much more. I took control of his feelings, subtlety playing no role. I told him a story about what had been done to she and I from our perspectives. I told him a tale about how he was going to make it up to us. I could feel his resistance, his desire to break free from my control, and I laughed. And then I amplified it all twice again as much. I shattered him, and then…. then I released him from the bonds.

I instructed him to harm himself. And he did as he was bid. He cut himself, so deeply that I could see bone, and sinew. He sliced his own legs so deeply that the muscles we no longer attached, he could not have stood, walked, run…nothing, and I was pleased. But still it wasn’t enough, and I was lost to my own madness. I took the knife back, and tied him back to the bed. I’d been preventing him from feeling the pain so far. The pain would have given him strength to break my control and I could not allow that. As soon as he was bound tightly, I released my control including the pain suppression. He roared and then passed out.

Bloody Hand

Somehow some sanity broke through. I could not leave him as he was, but I no longer desired to torture him. I picked up the knife and I slit his throat. Within moments I was bathed in his blood, and yet I stood there. I watched until there was no chance of life remaining. And still I felt unsafe. I lost what control I had regained and the next thing I recall his head was no longer attached to his body. His legs weren’t even in the same room. I left his hands bound as I pulled on a lab coat I found in a closet at the back of the room.

I didn’t even try to wash up. Suddenly the fear was overwhelming me again. Any moment someone was going to walk through the door and I was never going to leave this place. I tried to school myself, control it. I couldn’t leave things as they were. Eventually someone would show up even if it wasn’t right now. If they didn’t call the cops, and I was fairly certain they wouldn’t, this would continue. They’d do this to someone else. Some part of me knew that there were others still tied to their beds but they were dead already, even if they were still breathing. I couldn’t rescue them, and by the time I could get help I was positive that the people running this place would have killed them rather than move them. This was my rationalization. And so I went back to the kitchen, I went through the cupboards and I found alcohol. I poured some out down the hallway I had been in. I poured the rest down the hallway I would leave by, and over that man’s body. Then I went back and lit all the candles I could find. I put them by the trails of booze, by the oven. I sure hoped this was going to work, it did in the movies. I kept one candle with me and I went back to the kitchen to turn on the gas stove. I wasn’t sure candles would set it off but I was fairly sure that a fire would. As I got to the doorway leading to freedom I lit my candle, left the flame up on the lighter I’d found, and tossed them both down the hall towards the booze. I peered out the door carefully. It was dark enough outside that I felt I could slip into the shadows unobserved. When I was a little a couple of blocks away I heard an explosion, I could see flames in the distance. What do you know, it worked.

I still don’t know how I made it to the family home. Or even why I went that way at all. My place would have been closer, there would have been no risk of a family member spotting me had I just gone home. And well, here I am. Somehow I made it home from there.

I am dreading Sunday. For the first time ever I am afraid to go to my family. I could lie to them. I could make up a story, something easy, light. Something with no blood, no pain, no death. I could. But I love them. I made a promise long ago, no lies. Not within the family. They all know what I can do, although they don’t know what I am capable of. They will though. It won’t be long and I will be alone, adrift, shunned.

There’s the doorbell again. It’s being held down, that means it’s Jes and she won’t leave until she gets her way. I’ll go talk to her and then I’m going to try to sleep.

Goodnight, dear Journal.

I close the book, check my makeup to be certain she won’t be able to tell anything, and go answer the door. It’s not just Jes, it’s Raven as well. She’s hoping I can help her out and this time she’s taking me with her. It doesn’t matter that I’m exhausted, I’ll go and do my thing for my sister. I only hope I can control my emotions. I can’t exactly be broadcasting fear every time someone comes near me, touches me, invades my space…. crap. Jes comes back down the hall from the washroom and I tease her about falling in. She laughs and tells me it’s time I changed the lock on that door, that it tries to keep her in every single time. I tell her not to worry about that door, that I’m going to start looking for a new place tomorrow. That this place is too big for just me. My sisters, the loves that they are, offer to help and as we head out we discuss what I’m looking for in a new place. Raven insists that this time I get a place with a pool. As we get into the car we’re laughing, it very nearly drowns out the screaming in my head.

I’m going to try to enjoy their company. It might be the last time.

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Silver Tongued Duchess

 

 

It Begins

Light in my eyes. Bright, obscene, enraging. I preferred the shadows, the darkness, the total absence of light that I had been living in. But no, they had to drag me out. Kicking, screaming, begging to be let free. Now I am here. Stuck. Tied to a chair, the light shining on me, on my eyes, into my soul.

She will be free, she will be whole again, she will cease her unwanted behaviour. They want to make me who I was. Once, long ago, I was her. They loved her. But she was only a part of me. Slowly we became one, when they weren’t looking. We became me.

There were once several of us. The different faces for different situations, different people. Not separate personalities per se, more like separate masks. They miss the mask they knew. They don’t seem to realize that behind it was always me.

She was the first mask. The first one I created. The first one I had to be to fit in, to keep them unaware. It worked for so long that I forgot myself. I was her. I was hidden even from myself. For years I was other. Other masks over the one that was her. They hid even her from the outside world, from the ones that would hurt her.

And then he came. He stripped away all the other masks, washed away all the other paint. All that remained was her, and me. He did not know about me. He thought that she was all there was. He wanted someone that wasn’t her though. He wanted more of me. He didn’t know what he was asking for.

He thought that he was adding to her, he was stripping more and more away. He wanted a woman to do his bidding. He gained a woman that knew how to anticipate his needs, his wants, his every desire. He wanted a woman that would not question his orders, his requests, his decisions. He did not see that he gained a woman that saw everything, I had no need to question, I knew I was going to make him pay.

I tried to simply let him go. I grew tired of being hurt and so I gave it one last try to just let him walk away. It hurt so much to watch him walk away but I knew that all that remained between me and the rest of the world was the smallest part of my mask. I tried to rebuild her, I truly did. I needed her. She was all that kept me safe from the world. She was all that kept the world safe from me.

I did all I could to build her back up. But he kept trying to come back into my life. Every time he tried to strip more away. He kept taking what was rebuilt. And with every bit he took, he took a little more. My only way to survive was to take what was left of her and merge her in with myself. I didn’t know what would happen.

I blocked every access to me that I knew still remained. I ran. I hid. I tried to no longer exist as far as he would know. But still he found me. He used a path I forgot existed, one I could not close. He found me in the morning, and through the day he reminded me that I was his. He told me that I had no one else. He told me no one else would even notice if I was no longer around. He told me that I had no choice, that I was still, and would always be, his.

Did you know that when the only good remaining in you is under attack that the rest of you will defend it? I tried to bolster my light, I made my calls. Again I was without support. No one that would understand was there. The only one I could find I could not confide in, he would kill for me. I would die for him. And so I did the only thing I could.

I took the remainder of my light, I let my darkness engulf it, surround it, absorb it.  I saw her in my eyes, the new me, the fully integrated me. I watched as the light withdrew, hid. I watched as the crimson grew, became vibrant, filled my eyes, my heart. I would guard the light, save it for those that deserved it.

Within a few days I did as I was requested, I went to see him. I allowed him to touch me. I permitted his kiss. I welcomed his taste. When he was no longer watchful, when he allowed his walls to rest, when his cock was buried deep inside of me, I made him pay. I gently stroked his cheek, a move he was accustomed to from me. As my thumbs slid down I adjusted my course and pressed them deep into his eyes. As I did, I locked my legs around his thighs, he could not back away, he could not pull out, his cock was deep inside of me and I felt it harden with the pain before the rest of his body reacted.

Knife

When he could not see, as he opened his mouth to scream, I pulled my daggers from beneath the pillows. One was stabbed through his throat, blood sprayed over my hot, sweaty body. The other slid between our bodies and removed what connected us. I released my legs, he flew backwards, I felt his cock slip from my pussy, the blood pouring over my legs. I stepped over to him, I removed my dagger from his throat, more blood, I was coated in it. I stood and watched him as he died. The last words he heard was my nearly silent goodbye.

Bloody Woman

I suppose I would have gotten away with it had I thought before I left. A naked, blood coated woman tends to attract attention after all. They decided that his harassment of me had caused me to snap. So now I am here. Sitting in the light as they discuss what they think should be done. I know what I have to do to gain my freedom. I will build her back up. She will return, in a fashion. She will be simply a mask again though. The portions of her that they search for, that they believe count, the light is no longer. No one will see it again. But the mask, the mask will return.

Mask

I will remain. There are others out there, others that hurt, others that must pay. And I will be there.

Crimson Duchess

(With thanks to Emory & Crimson Princess for the pictures)

Tumour

He doesn’t see it. He doesn’t know that I do. He believes that everything he can see is all that is there. I can see it following him, every morning, every afternoon, I see it curling up in the chair beside our bed at night. It goes everywhere he goes. It crossed over me tonight, it was cold, freezing, evil. I don’t know what to do.

He’s losing weight, grumpy all the time now, doesn’t want to even share the same bed anymore. It knows I can see it and it’s trying to take him from me. I kissed his cheek when I was going out earlier and he flinched. This has to stop. I need to stop it.

I came home from work and found him with another woman. Thing is I can see the blackness over taking him. I told her to get dressed and get out of my house. I watched as the darkness backed off, the look in his eyes changed. He cried, he said there’s something wrong. He said he’d never cheat on me, he doesn’t know why he did.

We went to the doctor last week, got the test results back today. It turns out he has a brain tumour. They’re operating next month. But I don’t think the darkness is the tumour, I think it’s the cause of it. This thing following him around is evil, it scares me. I think when they do the surgery my love is going to die and this thing will take his place.

Well that was entertaining….not. I tried to talk to a priest about what I see. He told me the stress of my husband’s condition is causing hallucinations. I showed him my diary, proof that I’ve been seeing this for a while. He told me that some people are empathic enough to sense things like this and that I have a very rare gift…. stupid man. Will try someone else tomorrow.

Came home from work, he was already home. The house was clean, the table was set, dinner was nearly ready. He told me to go up and change into something nice, tonight was date night. He told me he took the next couple of weeks off of work. He wants to spend time with me before his surgery. I don’t see the darkness tonight. This almost scares me more.

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I went into work today and asked for the next two weeks off. He asked me if I’d like to go on a second honeymoon. I think he is afraid this surgery is going to kill him. I’m hoping the dark beast will stay away. Maybe if we leave before it returns it won’t be able to find him. It seems odd that it should disappear so close to surgery but I will count my blessings where I can find them.

Two days in the sun, two nights full of fun. Dear god I’ve missed this. He booked me for a massage this morning while he sleeps a little. When I woke earlier than normal he was watching me sleep. He said he didn’t want to miss a moment with me. I’m a little worried, maybe he really doesn’t think he’ll make it through. The doctor said that there is an 85% chance that he’ll come out of this and be fine. I need to help him believe he’ll survive, positive thinking is important.

He wanted to go to church this morning, we haven’t gone in years. Now I know he must be scared. He wanted to speak with the priest after the sermon. The way the priest was looking at him has me concerned. I was glad to leave, I could see the strain on his face, and the incense was giving me a headache. On the way to get lunch afterwards he told me that he wants to go back at least once more before we leave. As odd as it is, I can’t say no.

Four days now, every morning when I wake he’s watching me. I know I thought it was sweet, but now it’s getting creepy. I have a scratch down my arm this morning and I have no idea where it came from. I don’t think I got it during sex but I suppose I must have. I also can feel a bruise on my lower back. Were we really that energetic last night? I should hurry up, he’s waiting for me. We’re off on a day tour today. I always wanted to see the ruins here. I don’t think I’ve felt this loved in months.

Well that was just weird as hell. We were walking through one of the old temples and the tour guide kept watching us. The entire time the security guard stood well back from our group but he stayed with us. There were other groups there, why was he following ours?  When we got to the shop the clerk and security there took over watching us, as if we looked like hardened criminals or something. I’ve never been so happy to get back to a hotel.

Ok that was just odd, this entire week is getting stranger and stranger. I went in to have a shower, forgot my shampoo and went back out to get it. He was digging through my suitcase. He said he heard me swear and went to see what I might have forgotten, except my shampoo was on the bed, and I didn’t swear.

He went through my suitcase again. I have no idea what he’s looking for. Whatever it is he didn’t find it. He seems to be calmer now though, as if a weight has left him. Well whatever it was, when we were heading back from dinner we stopped at a lovely little shop and he bought me a new dress, shoes, even jewelry. We’re going to go through all of our savings before we head home at this rate. But I can’t deny him right now.

Another day of playing tourist, so much fun! Today was a cruise. From the water it’s obvious that the cliffs are massive. The tour guide pointed out the church we went to the other day. It’s the oldest on the island and on the highest point. We could barely see the top of the steeple. According to the tour the only way onto the island other than plane is the one harbour that we left from. It was absolutely beautiful.

More bruises, more scratches, pain. I know I couldn’t have gotten them last night. He’s never been more gentle than he was last night. I’m getting scared. I had a long soak in the tub this morning. Then we went for breakfast and spent the day in the pool. Ok well he spent the day in the pool. I stayed resting on a lounge chair, I didn’t want anyone to see the bruises on my back.

We leave in three days and, as much as there’s been some weird shit happening, I don’t want to go home. We haven’t been this happy in so long. He wants to go to the church today. I’m not really feeling like I want to go though. Maybe I can talk him into going tomorrow instead. I’m just not feeling great.

Oh my god what an amazing day. I told him I wasn’t feeling well so we spent the day curled up together in our room, and we had dinner at a very high class place. I told him I didn’t bring anything to wear to a place like that and he bought me another dress, heels, jewelry… I have never felt so spoiled.

He says he has a surprise for me today. He said we’ll be doing some walking so to dress comfortably. I tried and tried to get a hint or two but he just says I’ll find out, and smiles at me with such love. I can’t wait to see what he has in store for us.

“According to a local priest the man involved was dying from a brain tumour. He had spoken to the priest previously and requested assistance. He believed his wife had a demon attached to her and after a couple of days of careful observation the priest concurred. They came in earlier in the day and when they began the ritual to free her she broke free and went tearing out the back of the church. The husband went after her and in the struggle that occurred they fell over the cliff.”

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Crimson Duchess

Are You There?

I can hear you, you know. Hovering just out of sight. Trying so very hard to be quiet, unseen, hidden. I know you watch me, that you listen to every word I say, that you breathe the very air I exhale. What I don’t know is why, or who you are? You’ve always been there, always, as far back as I can remember you always have been. Do you come out when I sleep? Are you there?

The doctors told me you’re not real. That it’s my imagination. That’s what I get for telling anyone about you. This room is…. uncomfortable. Stupid people, I was in bed, asleep. I had written in my diary before bed, about that awful man. But it’s not as if I’m the one that killed him! As if I could do something like that! They gave me a shot, for my own safety….Are you there?

How? How am I supposed to have attacked that doctor? I was stuck here! In this fracking room! The door was locked for fucks sake! But the orderlies saw me they said. Wait I hear people coming…. What the hell? No! Get away from me! It wasn’t me! Please! Someone help me! It wasn’t me! Please! Are you there?

I don’t think I’ve seen anyone in a couple of days. I’m hungry, and very thirsty. I heard screaming, and something else, but I don’t know how long ago that was…. I hid when I heard it. As well as I could anyway, I sat down in the corner by the door. I didn’t think whatever was making that other noise would see me there. There’s still someone, or something, out there but my door is locked and I think whoever (whatever) it is doesn’t have the key. Oh please won’t someone help me….Are you there?

I hear the key turning in the lock. Please let it be help….but what if it’s not? Oh dear god I’m scared. This jacket holds me tight and I can’t defend myself. Please, are you real? I can’t feel you with me with these drugs inside my head. I’m alone, and I’m scared. The door is going to open and I don’t know who’s outside. I need you to protect me, oh please…Are you there?

The video camera showed me inside of my room the entire time, wrapped up in a straitjacket. The ones in the hallways showed me there as well, killing all those people. Now they believe me, that it wasn’t me. I moved often enough and she was wearing real clothes, not the stupid hospital gowns. They saw my terror as I heard the screams. Damn meds should be out of my system completely in a day or two. I have to know…Are you there?

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I can hear you again. Hovering just out of sight. Trying so very hard to be quiet, unseen, hidden. I know you watch me, that you listen to every word I say, that you breathe the very air I exhale. The thing is now I know why, now I know who you are. You’ve always been there, always, as far back as I can remember you always have been. Thank you so much for protecting me. Are you there?

Crimson Duchess

 

 

Freezing

My hands are like ice.

I guess I haven’t moved in a while.

But I just didn’t want to.

Why didn’t I want to?

I don’t remember.

I turn on the fireplace.

 

Still cold.

I don’t feel any warmer at all.

I grab a blanket.

Why am I so cold?

I don’t remember.

I turn on the fireplace.

 

I don’t think I’m warm anywhere.

I touch my face, freezing.

I don’t think the heat is on high enough

Is the furnace even on?

I don’t remember.

I turn on the fireplace.

 

I hear voices.

Someone is inside my house.

They’re complaining it’s so very cold.

Why is it so cold in here?

I don’t remember.

I turn on the fireplace.

 

Someone’s yelling, calling my name.

I should go see why.

But I am freezing and don’t want to move.

Why don’t I want to move?

I don’t remember.

I turn on the fireplace.

 

As I walk into the living room I find her. I call out so that the others know. She’s wrapped in a blanket, laying in front of the gas fireplace. She looks as if she’s sleeping. She must have thought it would keep her warm enough. I guess she forgot that the power being out meant it wouldn’t light. I’d offered time and time again to turn on the pilot for her but she always said next time. It took me three days to get through the snow to her place. I turn off the fireplace, thankful we could smell the gas when we came in. The open windows make the house even colder, but I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.

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Crimson Duchess

 

 

Sisters

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My sister growls, low, softly under her breath. My monster prefers the tears, the begging, the moment when prey realizes that they have no chance of escape, of release. But, she does not mind the screaming. It is after all only the slightest of sounds in our song. Like the bass, the screaming must be there to make it worth dancing to. Time to bring in the melody.

My sister and I, we harmonize well together. Years of practice before I hid my Duchess away. Her Maiden has tried several times to bring her back to play, the song was lonely with only one voice. Her Scythe sounds lovely but seems to enjoy when my daggers join in.

We glance at each other and I turn back to our prey. Scythe dances along his spine, I knew there was a reason she wanted the open back chair. My daggers make snowflake patterns on his chest and down his arms. When I peek at his back I can see the bone, but she’s not severed anything yet. She smiles as the snowflakes fall from his skin. He’s stopped screaming, he seems to be in shock. I hear Keeper coming towards us, he bends down in front of prey and tilts his head. He looks up at the ceiling to the hook my sister placed there recently. We understand.

Our prey seems elated. We are unwrapping him from the chair. Does he think he is going free? Such a hopeful little toy he is. I hear the doorbell. Hmmm… I unwrap my skirt and grab a robe from the wall. I can feel my Keeper watching me. Whether it’s because I’m now half naked or he’s waiting to see what I do I’m not certain. Perhaps both. My sister continues to adjust our prey as I head up the stairs. I hear Keeper behind me, will he be help or hindrance? As I get to the door Keeper pulls me aside. He opens the door and speaks with the men on the step. Yes he’d seen prey, last night actually. I’d called him. I was afraid. There was someone in the tree outside of my room. I slip quietly away as he speaks with them. Upstairs, into the shower. It is only 6am or thereabouts so they won’t be surprised if I was still in bed when they arrived. I come down the stairs, drying my hair with a towel, calling out “Who was it hun?” Stopping short when I see the men in the doorway; I clutch my robe more tightly around me. “Oh!” I blush as the officers look at me. One looks longer than he should, Keeper sees. Perhaps my next toy? The officer in charge notices too, damn not my next toy. He sends him out to look at the tree, Keeper has made it sound as if I was terrified when the guy hung out at my door for twenty minutes before finally giving up and leaving. The officer in charge says he’d like to ask me a few questions, but he’ll wait until I get dressed.

I head around the corner and quietly down into the basement. I let my sister know that we have police upstairs and she smiles. As I go back up the stairs she takes him through the doorway. I’ll have to meet her there later. Once I am dressed I head back down to the living room. I apologize for the delay but the officer says it’s fine. He asks me some questions, I answer them truthfully. I’m nearly positive the man had been there before. No he’d never come to the door previously. I blush when I tell him that I was… playing over the phone with my guy. He asks me when did the guy leave? I tell him I’m not certain, I didn’t actually see him leave. The officer thanks me for my time and heads out. They see where he jumped out of the tree, but as the ground is dry there is no way to tell which way he went when he left.

After the police leave I change, and then Keeper and I head back downstairs. He looks surprised to see that my Maiden and prey are missing. Seriously, did he think we would take that chance? We may be a little crazy but we sure as hell aren’t stupid. He looks at my low growl, he realizes that Duchess is already back out and there is no prey in sight. I lick my lip as I watch him walk quickly to the door. He opens it and steps back, away from my monster.

I hear my sister’s Scythe singing as I stalk through the trees, my daggers pulling me in her direction. But I hear another sound as well, a low singing, not entirely pleasant to my ears. I enter the clearing, my prey is hung from a tree? I tilt my head to look at him as a machete suddenly swings towards my head. I block it with a dagger, my other at his throat in an instant. My Maiden growls a warning, I step back away from this masked invader. Oh, this must be her new playmate. He reaches towards me and she growls again. His hand drops, at least he learns quickly.

I see our brother over by the tree, he is watching our interactions with amusement. I wish to be annoyed but that smile… fuck. Keeper enters the clearing and Maiden growls another warning. This man introduces himself, Marcus. Keeper drops to his knees before brother; calls him Dark King. Curious.

I walk over and kiss my brother’s cheek, Keeper watching me. He watches as Maiden does as well. He seems uncertain as to why we take such liberties. He is more confused when our brother returns the gesture, and lets me hug him tight.

I hear a whimper, oh prey is still alive? I had thought my sister had taken care of him but it seems she waited for me. Oh how I love her. I circle him slowly, seeing what she and Marcus have done in my absence. There is not much flesh left but my sister seems to have left his… rod for my amusement. Or perhaps Marcus and brother did not wish to see. I slowly touch it, Keeper looks away. Does it bother him that I am touching it or does he not wish to see what I might do? *shrugs* Oh well, I refocus my attention and within moments, even with all the pain he is in, he is hard, sticking out from his body, begging for my continued touch. I take a step back and nod to my sister. Scythe falls. Prey screams. Before he dies I kiss him softly. His eyes barely focus but he sees me. I smile. He sees my daggers last as I collect my sister’s trophies.

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Crimson Duchess