Kith and Kin

Part 1: Broken:


I enjoy peace and quiet, usually. But today I find it grates. In a house full of people I should be hearing something. Well, other than just the sound of pages turning. I blame Jes. She took my journal the other night. She made copies of it and handed it out to the family as they arrived. *sigh* She’s read it already but has yet to say a word to me since she got home.

I was first here. I came earlier than usual. I wanted a chance to talk to her, warn her that I had things to discuss tonight. I got the hand. She’s said absolutely nothing to me. I guess I know how this is going to go. Hopefully I won’t lose everyone, but I’m guessing my time as family is at an end.

“Other room please. We need a few minutes to discuss this.” Raven didn’t even look at me as she spoke. I left the room, into the kitchen with me. I might as well have a drink while they discuss my fate.

There’s an iPod sitting on the table. I peek back into the living room only to have one of my sisters catch me. I sit down at the table, a glass of whiskey in front of me. I’m fidgety, and I catch myself playing with the unfamiliar iPod. I can hear them talking quietly but I can’t make out the words. I consider leaving, after all it’s what I figure is going to happen anyway. So why wait? I get up and grab my purse, slip quietly out the door to my car. I go to put the key in the ignition and realize I’m still holding the iPod. *sigh* I’ll have to go back inside, I can’t take it with me. I might be a killer but I’m no thief. I reach into my glove box instead and pull out my stereo cord. I plug in the iPod and turn on the engine so I can have a listen.

“Eternity gazed back at me. Like an ocean’s horizon at midnight. Faintest of whispers softly caress my ears and I wonder if it is a nightmare or a dream.” words & music by Jason Sinner


I hear the words, listen to the song, and then play it again. I don’t recognize the man’s voice so why does it sound like he’s in my head? I turn off my car, and head back inside. Sitting out there where someone could see me is making me tense.

My timing is… good I suppose. I hear Gwen sending someone in to get me. Monster comes in. My Mikey, my Monster, if I lose everyone else I will still have him. He’ll still have them as well though. I may have brought him into the family but he is family. He smiles sadly at me, hugs me, and we walk into the room together holding hands. Just like whenever he was in trouble with our folks. We stand together, his arm around me. It takes me a moment but I raise my eyes to meet those of the ones I love. I look from one face to the next until I stop on an unfamiliar pair of eyes. This must be Methial. Jes told me about him, he was brought in while I was missing. I feel a shiver crawl down my back, his eyes are steady on mine and I can’t seem to look away. He smiles at me, nods his head as if in greeting, and that breaks the spell. I can’t make myself continue, my eyes drop, my gaze upon the carpet as I await their condemnation.

Jes and Gwen look at each other. I don’t have to see it to know they are having a silent debate about who’s going to speak. We’ve done this before, only it was between the three of us. I hear a soft sigh, Jes it is then. “When were you going to tell us? Or were you even going to?”

My eyes snap up to meet hers. “Of course I was going to tell you! That’s why I came early tonight!” I step away from the safety of my brother’s arms. “Had you left it alone Jes, I would have told everyone tonight. It’s why I asked for all of the family to be present. My journal is with me, in my purse. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to say it all, I was absolutely certain I’d fail. So I brought it with me. It says all the words I didn’t believe I’d be able to.” I look around and I see distress on the faces I love so much. I’m broadcasting. “Just wait a sec, please.” I walk outside, breathe deeply, I need control. I sit down on the steps, close my eyes and focus on my walls. Brick by brick they go back up.

I feel a jacket placed around my shoulders and I turn to look. It’s Methial. My look is questioning, he simply shrugs and sits beside me. “Penny for your thoughts.” He looks at me briefly before looking ahead again.

Stunned does not begin to describe my reaction to his comment. “A penny for my thoughts? Really?” I look at him and see a small smile before he looks away again. “Ok, fine. My thoughts… my thoughts are somewhat scattered right now. One thought, why are you here instead of one of my sisters? But then I realize it’s because they’re all getting themselves under control and that I had little to no effect on you. Another thought, why did I have no effect on you? Next thought, is there even any point to me going back inside or should I simply get in my car and go home? Also, why am I spilling all my thoughts to you, and why aren’t you annoyed with my ranting yet?” He smiles at me again, stands up, and offers me his hand. Before I realize what I’m doing my hand is in his and we’re walking back into the house.

He guides me over to the couch where Mikey is sitting. After I sit down he sits beside me, a little closer than I should be comfortable with but I can’t seem to bring myself to object. Gwen watches with a smirk on her lips. Jes walks in from the kitchen and hands me a glass, a light sip tells me there’s whiskey in my soda. No surprise there, she’s known me most of our lives after all. I take a larger sip and wait.


“Ok so we’ve decided it’s time to come clean with you.” Not what I was expecting. Over the course of the next several hours my family told me what they had been hiding from me. For years. It turns out my family is full of killers. Not just in defense but flat out, cold blooded killers. I mean, yes I knew my Mikey was a monster, and that my sisters and brothers all had particular skills. I suppose it hadn’t occurred to me what purpose they had set those skills to. We all have jobs of sorts. When our folks passed away Mikey and I came into some money, I’ve handled my portion pretty well and haven’t had to have a 9 to 5 job in ages. Mikey drives a truck, a big ass truck. I suppose I now know the reason he loves the open road so much. The rest well… let’s just say they have day jobs and then they have jobs that prefer the night. But those are their stories to share, not mine.

I don’t remember leaving, how in hell did I get home? Mikey had to leave early, he had a run. So I know he didn’t bring me home. How much did I drink while they told me what I’d been too dumb to see? Jes tried to make it seem like they were just that good at hiding it but when I look back they really weren’t. I was just that good at being oblivious. Oh god, it’s not even 8 o’clock in the morning and I already want a drink. I killed, I won’t deny it, but after months in that place one could argue I’d snapped. My sisters, my brothers, they all told me horrible things. The only one that said nothing was Methial. He sat there beside me the entire time, his hand on my back. I vaguely recall leaning on him after a few drinks. Oh god, I need to call Jes. She’ll tell me it was all just stories. A prank. I need my phone, maybe it’s in the kitchen?

I walk into the kitchen and notice an unfamiliar jacket on the back of one of the chairs. I thought I gave it back to Methial when we went inside. I glance around and notice the back door is open. Given my recent paranoia I know I didn’t leave it open. I look out onto the deck, he’s sitting on the steps smoking a cigarette. The smoke curls around his head, almost a caress, before it drifts away. There’s a mug beside him and only now do I realize that I smell coffee. I guess I know how I got home. Dear god, please tell me I didn’t do anything stupid last night. Well stupider.

“He can’t help you, you know.” He didn’t even acknowledge my presence until he spoke. He’s still looking into the trees. And what the fuck did he mean by that? “God is what I mean. He can’t help you. Well he could, but he won’t.” He gets up, sticks his cigarette into the pot of dirt beside him, picks up his mug, and comes back inside. Without more than a smirk in my direction he drains his cup, grabs his jacket, and heads for the front door. “I’ll see you later Dee. We have a few things to discuss.” After the door closes I can move again, I run after him, flinging the door wide, but he’s gone. Just gone. No motor, and it’s a long driveway so it’s not as if he could already have driven out of sight. There’s a wide area around the house before the trees take over and I don’t see him anywhere.

Back into the house, Jes’s voicemail picking up before I even realize I have my phone in hand. “Jes, you need to call me. Like now. Or ten minutes ago. Or come over. Who the hell is this guy? I need more answers from you. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to tell me that yesterday was a bad dream? Or a prank? Just call me, please.”

All I got was a text. “He’ll explain.” Like that helps. And why wouldn’t she call instead? I’m officially creeped out. Raven called me. She said she was sorry that she’d lied to me about what she was doing. She also apologized for telling me the truth. I can’t fault her for that. After I got off the phone with her though I realized I didn’t want to talk to any of the family. So maybe it’s better that Jes didn’t call. I need a shower… or maybe a nice long bath instead.

After I locked everything up, I soaked in the tub for a couple of hours. Bubble baths are my weakness. Every little sound was making me jumpy but I was bound and determined to enjoy my bath. Afterwards I wander the house to make certain everything was still locked up tight. This has become a ritual the last few nights. Ok time for sleep. I turn on my bedside lamp, slip under the covers, and turn over. Right into Methial.

Ok my throat hurts, I’m not sure how long, or how loud I was screaming. My back hurts which I guess is what happens when you try to shove yourself through the corner. He’s bleeding. Oh my god he’s bleeding! What the fuck did I do? “Methial?” Ok whispering isn’t helpful. Did I even make a sound? He’s looking at me. Ok I couldn’t have hurt him too bad, he’s smiling. He’s smiling and walking towards me. He’s not walking, he’s stalking, and that smile scares me.



Siara Tyr



The Orphan Killer 2 Bound x Blood Currently in Production
The Orphan Killer 2
Bound x Blood
Currently in Production

 Matt Farnsworth Films    Madness is in the Eye of the Beholder


When the lights go out, and the darkness reigns. I can feel you.

Your touch, your breath hot against my neck,

your cock pressing hard against my ass…


Then morning.

I hear you in the kitchen, until I round the corner.

I hear you run the shower but the tub is dry.

The sounds of you are everywhere

and you’re nowhere to be found.


Evening comes, and I get home from work.

I walk through the door and smell dinner on the go,

I put the takeout on the table.

I watch a movie and the scent of popcorn lingers in the air

I haven’t had popcorn since…

I head to my bed, our bed, and your cologne swirls around me,

taunting me, teasing me, killing me.


Time to turn out the lights.

I miss you.

Miss you

Siara Tyr


The Orphan Killer 2 Bound x Blood Currently in Production
The Orphan Killer 2
Bound x Blood
Currently in Production

 Matt Farnsworth Films    Madness is in the Eye of the Beholder


I ache.

From the top of my head to the very tips of my toes I do not believe there is a single spot on my body that is not complaining. I wish I could say it was a good pain that I’d had an exceptional workout, or even better absolutely mind blowing sex. God that would be nice. But no, it’s his fault I feel this way but nothing nearly so pleasant. When I got home from work on Friday I had stopped to pick us up our usual. We normally have pizza, a couple of ice cold beers, and watch a movie or two before we fuck the night away. Our version of celebrating the week’s end. He arrived before me which, although unusual, wasn’t a big deal. He’s had a key to my place for six months now after all. He seemed a little out of sorts but it had been a hell of a week so I thought nothing of it. We ate pizza, drank beer, watched the third of a movie, and out of nowhere his fist connected with the side of my head. Next thing I knew I woke up here.


I think that was five or six days ago. It might be longer. He hits me so hard I pass out and I have no idea how long until I wake again. Ignoring that I still have no idea what the fuck happened, or why he’s doing this, I can’t figure out why I’m tied to a bed of all things. It’s even comfortable sort of. It’s hard for anything to be comfortable when you’re covered with bruises, cuts, and even a couple of broken bones (I think a rib, and a bone in my leg but I can’t be sure about any others). And although at some point he stripped me, he seems to be putting a blanket on me as if to let me freeze would be unacceptable. When he comes into the room he puts a straw into my mouth, lets me drink some water. But there has been nothing to eat. As I’m still breathing I can’t help but think he’s doing something when I pass out to keep me alive but why?

Ok what do I absolutely know? He’s nuts. Ok that’s not going to help. I did notice that the leg that seems to be broken is also the one tied to the least stable of the posts. I think that’s why he broke the bone. I can’t pull on the post without a lot of pain. Last time it felt as if my leg would tear in two if I kept it up. And that’s when he broke my rib. He was so angry that he just kept hitting me. It doesn’t matter though, this is only going to work one of three ways. One, I manage to get free and somehow make it somewhere safe. Two, I piss him off badly enough that he totally loses it and beat me until I’m dead. Or three, and this is the one that truly terrifies me, I stay like this for god knows how long until he tires of his games and kills me. I’m not overly fond of options two and three. I’ll try my arms again, getting a leg free won’t do me much good if it’s the only part of me not tied down.

Duct Taped Mouth

Fuck me. I wonder how long I was out this time? Ok try to remember what happened. I got my arm free! Just in time for him to walk in. Oh shit. Yup, both arms look shattered. How am I even awake let alone thinking? I should be screaming in pain. I wonder what he’s been putting in the water. I’m pretty fucked now. I can’t lift my head high enough to see my legs but I’ll guess they’re both shattered too. I’m going nowhere. Even if I somehow managed to get free he’d just follow the trail of blood until he found me passed out from the pain. He never speaks. I never have the energy to. But if I’m going to die I’d at least like to know why. I hear him coming. This is probably going to hurt.

The door opens, and he enters the room. He smiles at her, and offers her the straw. She turns her head. He forces the straw between her lips and she does nothing. “Drink” She shakes her head at him. “You need to drink or you’ll feel all of this. Now be a good little girl and do as you’re told.” He doesn’t appreciate the glare he’s receiving and he slaps her, hard. “Drink”

“Fuck off.” She can barely speak but he knows what she said.

He slaps her again. “Watch your mouth!”

“I want to know why I’m here. Why are you fucking torturing me?” Her voice doesn’t change, he damaged her vocal cords at some point, he was afraid she might scream.

“Because you’re a fucking whore that’s why! I found your phone with those messages! To some guy named Brad. You’re MY girlfriend and you’re talking about fucking him! How you can’t wait to have him….” He turns away for a moment, shaking uncontrollably.

Brad…. Brad, this is about my ex boyfriend from five years ago Brad! It hadn’t occurred to her to clear an old phone, she’d chucked it in a drawer and forgotten about it. She starts to giggle, she can’t help it, and she can’t stop it. Even when his fist connects with her cheek she giggles through the pain. “Did you even look at the dates dipshit?” It’s the last she manages to get out before he connects with her mouth, shattering her teeth. She can’t move so she chokes to death on the pieces that fall into her throat. She’s dead a good half hour before he stops hitting her.


Bloody Mouth


Siara Tyr

A continuation by Monster – The Return


The Orphan Killer 2 Bound x Blood Currently in Production
The Orphan Killer 2
Bound x Blood
Currently in Production

 Matt Farnsworth Films    Madness is in the Eye of the Beholder


There was a time I believed in you

I knew you would always be there

No one could convince me I was wrong.

You helped me to open my wings

Helped me lose most of my fear of the heights

That I was going to attain.

You pulled me free from the darkness

And taught me to play in the shadows.

You reminded me that light cannot exist without dark

And taught me to fear neither.

You thought you were helping a butterfly regain her wings.


Then came your betrayal.

You showed me that you were false,



And my anger grew.

Cold, blazing, glacial.

Icy enough to burn you to your bones.

And yet I waited.


Now, now you think you are safe

You believe yourself untouchable.

Foolish man.

Beware the shadows

Watch the skies

For it was not a butterfly you released

But a demon.

And I am coming for you.



Siara Tyr


The Orphan Killer 2 Bound x Blood Currently in Production
The Orphan Killer 2
Bound x Blood
Currently in Production

 Matt Farnsworth Films    Madness is in the Eye of the Beholder

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.


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

Matt Farnsworth on Facebook   Matt Farnsworth on Twitter Matt Farnsworth on Instagram

“The characters Marcus Miller, and Babysister are owned by  Matt Farnsworth”
©™ Full Fathom 5 Productions LLC
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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

In the Snow

Staring out my slightly open window, watching the snow fall gently to the ground. The world sleeps, rests, renews while the stars twinkle brightly, the moon high above me, the hour late. Christmas is only a couple more sleeps away, and I already begin to feel the excitement.

I will try to sleep again this year but already I know the cause is lost and that I might as well find another way to occupy my time. Every year, every Christmas, it’s always the same. As a child my patience was necessary, I would wake earlier than everyone else in the house, probably earlier than anyone else in town if I am honest. I would allow my sister to sleep for at least an hour, sometimes I would be kind and leave her until 6. Then Dad around 6:30 or 7, but Mom was always to be left until at least 7:30 and no presents were to be opened until after breakfast. And no, the orange in our stockings was not breakfast. I know, I asked.

As I grew I was still up at the same time, 4am comes early but sleeping later than that was impossible. After I moved away I found myself rattling around all night, disturbing my roommates. So I began my yearly routine. I would wait for the house to fall asleep and then go out for a walk or a drive. Of course I hadn’t planned anything more; I was merely trying to occupy myself. Then HE happened.

I drove to the park. You know the one? Down at the end of Main Street. Of course you do. I sat on the swings, under the gently falling snow. The night was much like tonight, perhaps that’s why the memory is so strong. The swing slowly moved, my feet touching the ground just barely, my breath steaming, drifting into the night sky. The night was quiet, peaceful. Until “Would you like a push?” I don’t believe I screamed but if I didn’t it was a near miss. This is going to make me sound a little crazy, I’m well aware of it but although he was standing there behind me, he wasn’t really there. I mean he was, I could see him, I could hear him, but I absolutely could not touch him. My hand passed right through him.

It didn’t stop him from giving me a push on the swing though. Somehow he was able to affect it, and me. I spent the night swinging back and forth, chatting with…. a ghost I suppose. As dawn began, as the sun began to send its rays across the snow causing the world to glitter, he asked me if I would come back. He’d been alone for so long, he was so lonely, I couldn’t say no. But the only time he’s around is Christmas, or at least it’s the only time he can interact with the rest of us, with the living I suppose.

I’ve gone back for the last five years, every Christmas Eve. I sit on the same swing and wait for the sun to set. I’ve got my own place since then, no more roommates to disturb but now I couldn’t stay home even if I wanted to. He needs me after all, he has no one else.

It’s Christmas Eve. It’s cold out tonight. As time’s gone by he’s been gaining substance. Last year I was finally able to hug him, even kiss him. He was cold, and after a short period of time my hands slipped through him again but I did touch him. Is it possible to fall in love with a ghost? How am I able to touch him now? I’ve been trying to figure it out for the last year but it’s not exactly something you can find in the library or online. Of course there are theories. None of them seem feasible though. I’m hoping desperately that it’s the same tonight. I’ve been dreaming about touching him for 365 nights, and tonight I’ll find out.

“Would you like a push?” He’s here! I get off the swing and I’m in his arms. He’s solid! How is this even possible? “I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“Only a year love, not long at all.” I smile at him, and then he’s kissing me. I’m on fire, every cell in my body yearning for him. How can he do this? No more thinking, just feeling.


This was by far the easiest transition yet. Foolish woman. She let me in, more and more each year. I need to learn about this “internet”. It wasn’t around last time.

As he walks away the swing slowly stops moving. The woman’s hands frozen to the metal chains, her cheeks slowly losing their vibrant pink, her last breath drifting to the sky.

Silver Tongued Duchess


The Orphan Killer 2 Bound x Blood Currently in Production

 Matt Farnsworth Films    Madness is in the Eye of the Beholder


Mad Love to our Mad King

What follows are true life tributes to a man that we all adore, for he is special to each and every one of us.  Matt, Happy Birthday Brother.  Enjoy ❤

Matt Farnsworth  Cruel Creator of The Orphan Killer photo by C & C Photography

Matt Farnsworth
Cruel Creator of The Orphan Killer
Photo by C & C Photography

 Musing on Madness

A little over a year ago, I met this man. I thought he was eye bursting beautiful, and I still do. He’s mad, off his nut, and his mind is one of the darkest I’ve encountered. While it should frighten me, and does on occasion, I find him fascinating. I could stare all day and just watch the beast behind his eyes work. Now if this seems like a love letter, there is good reason for that. It is.

Get your minds out of the gutter, it’s not like that. Yes, he is handsome, but photographs don’t tell the real story. His eyes are that blue and no camera in existence could do them justice. Nor can it portray the down to earth, and personable guy that he really is. He’s just like everyone else, except he isn’t

I admire Matt Farnsworth, truly.  His spark of madness is more a raging fire, and it bothers me, in a good way. I’m laughing out loud in the dark writing this, because in Dallas when I first had the opportunity to meet Matt and Diane Foster at Twisted Tails, he glared at me, and I deserved it, and it really did scare me. It was wonderful. I sense the smirk…..

Meeting Matt was like, to be all squishy, ew, coming home. To the family I’d known existed all along, and now knew. Okay stop laughing, I mean it! He loves his TOK Family one and all, and it shows with every post, tweet, share and retweet. His madness is immense. And I give thanks.

Creative minds are everywhere. Everyone has a spark, a creature within themselves that will devour if given the chance to escape its confines. Matt’s broke free, his madness ran amok and out of this he created a creature I happen to like. Marcus Miller, The Orphan Killer. This, my friends, is no ordinary psycho, no common HellSpawn. No, this one is mean and brutal and will make you cringe with every swing of his axe. Yeah okay I have a crush on Matt’s Monster. But I’m his Minion, so it’s allowed.

Today is a special day for the man I like to call my Dark King, and my Brother. Brother at heart, Brother in Blood, and I’d happily spill bloodsauce if it brought a smile to those cruel lips

Happy birthday Matt. From me and mine to you, I wish you a wonderfully brutal day.

Mel xo



Dark Wishes from Tortured Soul

Within the dark the light shines. It gives the power to unlock the best of the mind.   On this day the world was given a child, who would become a Dark King,  and from mind of this King, a star was born.
Hail to the King!  Long will he reign down his slashes of pure horror and gore!  May this day bring you the light and happiness from all that stand with you.
Happy birthday
Dave ts

Birthday Wishes for Matt Farnsworth

Another year has passed by

And I hope that you can see

That you’re one year closer

To your fulfilled destiny

That added to your other gifts

Of beauty, talent and charm

Creates an aura of envy to those

Who would give their right arm

To live their lives like you

Babes throw themselves at your feet

Or at other parts of your body

Hoping like hell to share your heat

I need shades just to look at you

Your light is blindingly bright

Your passion burns hot and deep

With a power to set the world alight

And you will with this next movie

When it’s all been said and done

Because we, your fans, know TOK

Is killer in more ways than one

So if you ever need more talent

As an actress I’m a slouch

But this promise I could make you

I’d rock your casting couch 😉


Happy Birthday Matt with much love and respect from Cat Hennebury


Who would have known that Social Media would impact my life in such a way? Not me. About 10 months ago I logged onto Twitter and there they were, the most beautiful set of eyes I had ever seen. Piercing blue pools that captured my heart. Now thanks to them I have the most wonderful family, yes family, and it all started with those eyes….

Eyes as blue as the ocean

A smile that will melt your heart

A genuine caring soul

I was hooked from the start

Sometimes covered in blood

Usually wearing no clothes

Just exactly how he found me

Is something only he knows

See that’s how this all started

On that cold dreary day

A flame was sparked

When I was invited to the slay

Slowly I become addicted

To the madness inside

My love for him grows

Into a beast I can not hide

Some may call him Brother

But I will tell you something

This kind and wonderful man

Will always be my Dark King

Happy Birthday my King, may there many more. To you I am eternally grateful. You have given so much to me, I will never be able to repay. I hope your day is filled with the love you so richly deserve! Happiest of birthdays Matt, forever and always, Diana, aka Madness Addict


An Artist Stands..A Birthday Letter To My King

He stands…Tall..Proud, his essence flows around him. The world sees him. Mesmerizing blue eyes. The kind you do get lost in. Handsome face, no wait, I take that back,  devastatingly handsome face. Wicked smile, the kind you know loves mischief and is all about that every day. The madness, oh yes the madness,  it circles him, engulfs him, cascades all around him like a turbulent waterfall.
This man stands. Women adore him, love him, dream and write stories about being with him. Men adore him, love him and yes want to be with him also.  I see this yes but I also see something else in every picture of those beautiful baby blues. I see a man whose talent, intellect, and heart drove him to be where he is today.

He has a poet’s heart, moving, caring, understanding and the way he treats his fans proves this 100%.  He has a painters eye, one can only look at his artwork and see the depth of his talent and the passion of his mind. His artwork stirs something inside. Gaze upon his creations and you are swept away by beauty and heart.
When I first laid eyes on him, which will be a year this coming Sept. 16, I thought I saw an angel for the first time.  When I followed him and in seconds he followed me back and said Hello…well, I was lost… I was his…That. Is. All. *giggles*. Okay I was wrong about the angel part!!!

Then as the months past and I could see how he treated me and his fans with love , caring and respect. I was in awe, no other celebrity shows that much attention to his fans. Then I watched TOK for the first time. The sheer pleasure I got from watching this I can never put into words. The fear I felt for Marcus, the love I felt for Audrey was something I couldn’t understand at the time. I understand now, I was in Horror Lust and the sheet talent and madness of this man showed through onto celluloid like a raging bull in a China shop.

So yes….I’m lost in those baby blues, I’m in awe of his talent and mind, and yes I love my Brother. My heart fills with love, respect and gratitude when I think of Matt Farnsworth and Diane Foster and the whole TOK Family. My family accepts me, loves me, understands me. You have given my weird heart a home where I can be me and never be told to stop being weird.

Matt,  I just want to say thank you for accepting me, for all the love you show me and us fans. For taking time out of your busy day to talk to us. I want you to know you are amazing and as a fan I will always be there to support and give you as much love and encouragement that my heart can hold.


My love always


My dearest, most BRUTAL brother,

   It has been nearly a year to the day, August 31st, since you followed me on twitter. The moment I saw you, I was forever lost in those baby blue pools of MADNESS of yours. I have been stuck there since, and “prey” to never be found. You came to me during one of the lowest points in my life, lifted me up, gave me a family that I can truly, cruelly, count on. You gave me peace, and hope. Through the madness you possess, and convey, you have shown me the person I am meant to be, and have led me to the love I was meant to have, the family I deserve. The love, loyalty, attention, respect, and affection that you, and our Queen, show to your fans is like no other. Like nothing I ever expected. I thank you, my Dark One, for every moment that your follow on twitter, (only my sixth lol), has given me. All the love, support, encouragement, MADNESS, and BLOODY BRUTALITY you have brought into my life. You, Diane, David, Officer Hunt, Audrey, Marcus, Esper, Donna, Nicky. You have each impacted and changed my life, my world, in the cruelest, most brutiful ways.

Happy Brutal Birthday my forever Dark King, my Best, most BADASS Brother. All my cruelest love and bloodiest kisses to you always!! ❤❤



1 year ago this month I was introduced to the greatness that is our #DarkKing. First thing for me was those piercing eyes. They take hold & don’t let go….draw you in. Then you realize what a creative genius he really is. Absolutely brilliant. That’s what keeps you hooked.  Here’s wishing you the cruelest & most brutal of birthdays my #DarkKing!! Much love!! Amber (@peacham21)


It was a very dark time for me. I was fighting many battles and felt as if I was drowning in an endless sea of despair. Abandoned by some I had come to trust…I felt alone and lost when one night I opened up my computer and there he was, staring at me with eyes of blue infinity that pierced through my soul. A bewitching smile that barely contained the madness I could sense behind it and in time I embraced fully. A heart so large and full of love for all those that follow him. How could I resist this? He saved me that night and many times since…I know he has done the same for many others. His amazing warmth & friendship breathed new life into me…I found a new sense of purpose and a new family to call Mine. It has been a year since that fateful night and my life has been forever changed. What the future holds I cannot say but I do know this… I will always be his Princess and he my Dark King. Happy birthday Matt and let there be many many more to come ❤ ❤

Caro xo  ❤the_twisted_path_group_matt_farnsworth

Celebrating Madness


I’ve been trying to find the right words for the last few days. You know which ones I mean. The words that tell my Dark King, my friend, my brother, just what he means to me and how happy I am to have him in my life. The words to tell him Happy Birthday without having it seem, I don’t know, trite. There will be many people sending him wishes for a happy day, telling him they love him, and how happy they are to know him. And while all of that is valid and I do wish him the happiest of days, and I am blessed to have him in my life, and I do love him more than he knows…. It all seems lacking somehow.

So, how do I tell him that when he puts up his “madness” pictures that I would be ever so willing to go help him in his mischief? Or that when he gives us a photo where he looks annoyed, stern, or even a little pissed that I want to either hide or beat up whoever it is that put that look on his face. Mostly though it’s those smirks and smiles that I can’t explain properly. You see, even when I’m hurting, or sad I can look at one of them and it’s like I can feel him hugging or teasing me. Somehow everything seems to just settle down, and even if he can’t feel me hugging him back, in my mind I am.

So how do I tell him all that he means to me? How thankful I am to his parents for bringing him into this world, and raising him to be the man he is? How much I appreciate everything he does, and for allowing me into his world? I just can’t find the words to say it all. So I guess I’ll simply say;

Happy Birthday my Brother

I love you, I miss you, and thank you

from the bottom of my black little heart.

 Siara ❤



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The Orphan Killer 2 Bound x Blood Currently in Production

The Orphan Killer 2
Bound x Blood
Currently in Production