med bay snippet #6

med bay snippet #6

MB #1; #2; #3; #4; #5;


So? How’s Frazer? Rains shrugs, food tray in his hands lifting slightly. I gesture for him to join me at my table. What did Oz say?

The usual. He’s doing his best. Frazer’s out of the woods. She’ll be out of the med bay in some days. He sits down and pokes at his dehydrated meal packs. I hand him the hot water can. Nearly ready with my food, I focus on him.

And Decker? Oh, come on. Don’t make that face. I smile at his bitter, angry grimace. After all, you saved his life. He’ll be happy. Rains looks wounded as if I congratulate him on destroying the capital of The United Territories. Continue reading “med bay snippet #6”

Black Door

Black Door

1 & 2


3

Nearly two months now, that I was trapped in this old shabby hospital in Bucharest. What did one of the doctors say? As God created Romania, he only had dirt, rust, desperation, and poverty left to work with. Someone muttered a genius response. It was the biggest and most elaborate shell game con that made this country survive another legislation period. Two sides of the same coin.

There. Romania in a nutshell.

As amusing as this forced holiday was, it started to bore me to tears. I needed to go back to my cave. The gravitation of the discovery cradled my mind day and night. I dreamt of Ostra. I saw Ostra in my mind. I thought of Ostra. It called for me.

So I planned.

I plotted. Continue reading “Black Door”

The Stain

The Stain
- triggerwarning - grief, alcohol

I plunked down into the leather couch and tugged the patchwork quilt over my legs. Maria, my ex-wife, made it during the five long years of our marriage. She made it for Amy, our little daughter.

I petted the fabric, fingers tracing the sewed areas, for the hundredths time, maybe for the hundred-thousandths time by now…

It had been vibrant and colorful, with the reds and blues and yellows thoughtfully arranged on twenty to thirty-five inches. Baby animals playing under the stars and the moon. Pink hearts lined beneath those little paws. My fingertips knew all the stitches.

Continue reading “The Stain”

Weekly Horrorscope

Weekly Horrorscope

ARIES

Always take time for a good breakfast. You need to go nourished into the flaming void of the new day. Coffee, omelet, croissants, orange juice, pastry, mung bean sprouts, strawberries, bacon and lots of steaks – fresh, bloody and kicking. Satisfy your appetites. Take what you need, or you will be taken by need.

TAURUS

Cordoba is a gorgeous place. The people there are beautiful, passionate, hot-headed, and there might be a unique element in their blood. That red in the walls of every building is no coincidence. There is magic, love, and lust. You should visit. Now! Continue reading “Weekly Horrorscope”

Traitor’s Hell

Traitor’s Hell

chuck wendig prompt – song lyrics prompt

…”Don’t you ever tame your demons, but always keep’em on a leash” … HOZIER, ARSONIST’S LULLABY

triggerwarning

“WAKE UP!”

Cold. Someone slaps me. It’s wet, hard. And freezing. My arms and legs hurt. Can’t move. Getting dark.

“Wake up, rat. You won’t duck justice!” Barking. Far away a dog barks. “WAKE THE FUCK UP! Don’t you dare to die! 911- Hello? Yes. Send an ambulance, fast. Corinth 1507. There’s been a fire. Yes, male, Caucasian, shot several times. I don’t know… Yeah… I’m starting CPR.”

Continue reading “Traitor’s Hell”

Cursed, not Gifted

Cursed, not Gifted

Special Agent Eric Paulson stood in my doorway, with a goofy smile on his thin lips. He flicked away his still burning cigarette. Snowflakes melted on his grey stubby chin.

“What do you want?” I asked. Bitterness seeped from the back of my throat. I wanted to spit it out, but words fell out instead. “Seven. Years.” He didn’t even call when my sweet little Anna died. Continue reading “Cursed, not Gifted”

No Barking!

No Barking!

I ran out of luck today.

My landlord cornered me in the laundry room. I evaded him for two weeks, but not today though. “Your fucking dog keeps yapping the whole goddamned night.” He spat on my sneakers. Mr. Garbagegoblin, as I called him, was as pleasant as explosive diarrhea. I grabbed my wet shirts and stuffed them into the dryer. He stepped closer. The smell of his armpits hit me.”Shut it up! Or you’re out!” He barked into my face, breath wafting with rotten teeth and whiskey.

“But he hasn’t barked yet because he’s a good dog. Even if he’s a cat.” I tried. Continue reading “No Barking!”