Saturday, 15 April 2017

The Easter Egg Hunt

It's Easter. I thought to write something about this time of year - doesn't mean it's all warm and fuzzy, though.

enjoy.

The burrow is all cute from the outside.

It’s got a door on it with a little pathway leading up to it.

And I suppose you think that lovely, white bunny with his purple, velvet vest, all trimmed in gold and with silver buttons looks just lovely and perfect as he scampers along – his little tail boppin’ along ever so cutely.

Does it ever cross your mind how he gets to look so cute?
Exactly where does he get all those eggs for the hunt in the village every year?

Who do you think makes them?

No, the parents don’t go out to the stores and buy them – that’s for the baskets inside the home. The bunny you see running away around 7am is the one who plants the eggs around the village – the ones your kids often find, as they happily run and squeal with delight at how beautiful they all are.
You don’t realise that the bunny doesn’t make any of those eggs. He’d never get his greedy little paws dirty with chocolate or sickly sweet candy. He doesn’t spend hours on end painting those china eggs only to have one flaw in one and have to throw it away.

That’s my work you all love to fawn over.

And you give him all the praise.

And besides, Easter isn’t really what you think. It sort of depends on what you believe in – whether you believe it’s the time Jesus died and rose three days later, or the worshipping of Ishtar (pronounced Easter) – either way, you’re taking a few days off to indulge in chocolate and worship something or somebody.

But really, I haven’t seen the light of day in... 

well...um...

...you know, I don’t rightly remember. Yes, it’s been that long since I’ve been outside the burrow, since I disappeared from the outside world. But I am a Human Being – I do think people have just forgotten that I went missing when I was young; that they stopped looking for me when he grabbed my hand in the park and dragged me off to the burrow, leaving me there.
After all, a talking rabbit was a really cool thing when you’re a seven year old and your folks were far too busy to have another child. But from what I heard, my nanny was blamed for losing me in the park. The rabbit told me that they stopped looking for me.

I know for a fact that’s not true.

I had the door open a crack one day and heard some people sitting nearby talking (I can’t see anything normally past the door, just the meandering path and a road). They were around the corner.
“Do you remember when that child went missing?” an old lady’s voice asked.
Another just as old answered, “Oh my! Yes! The nanny was blamed and they still haven’t found the poor little soul.”
The first tsked, “They’d be all grown up now if they were still around.”
“Wasn’t that in the 40’s or the 50’s?”
“No... I remember it was 1969. The year of the first man on the moon.” The first replied, “Oh, look at the time, we must be going.”
The voices disappeared as they collected their brood of children and went home.
“And what do you think you are doing?” his voice snapped.
I turned, terrified, forgetting when he was going to finish his nap, “I just wanted to peek outside for a moment.”
His eyes turned red with anger as his ears pinned hard against his back, “And I have told you many times that there’s nothing for you out there anymore!” he pointed back to the darkened den, “Get back to work! And fix my vest, I have promo to do with a television station tonight. I can’t look all dirty as you left it last year.”
“I did fix it.” I held up his vest. It was all clean and new shiny buttons had been stitched on with gold thread, “I got new buttons.”
He looked at himself in the mirror as he tugged at it, the anger suddenly gone, “Very nice. Where did you get the buttons?”
“At the last market we went to.” I looked to my feet, knowing he didn’t like me socialising when we went shopping.
“Well, you did well.” He turned as he grabbed his basket filled with eggs that I had prepared for him on the table, “Time for me to go. Remember, keep the lantern in the window lit and the fire burning for the cameras to follow me home – and stay out of sight!”
“Of course.” I nodded.
The door closed.
I pulled out of my pocket a little remote control with a switch on it. Turning it from ‘off’ to ‘on’, I smiled. The tables were about to be turned on him. Inside the basket was a homing device woven into fibres of ribbon I had bought at the market as well as the buttons.
What Rabbit didn’t know was that I had been outside the burrow for about an hour that afternoon to place a little something for the ladies at the seat to find. It looked like a phone – but it wasn’t. It was a device to show where I was. It showed where Rabbit was... and it had all my details about what has happened to me.

Now, all I had to do was wait for him to return from the promo spot.

This will take about an hour.

By that time, the police will have found me, and then they’ll find him.

Problem will be what to do when they find out that the Easter Bunny kidnapped me to do his work. 

Saturday, 8 April 2017

Home

This week, Chuck asked us to write the end of a long journey. This got me thinking that it takes a few weeks to get over a long journey... especially back in the days of yore. So, here you are.

enjoy.

With a sigh, I pulled on the reigns and the horses grunted. We had walked the last few miles of the way home; my home being this lovely place up against the forest wall.
I built it with my family – my husband, my son, my father – and now they were all done and gone with God and I am here on me own to toil the land, to live my days out in peace.
Climbing down, I ran my hand along the rump of the beast talking to him gently, letting ‘im know I’m here, I’m ‘is owner, we’re finished today – and he an’ he can now rest. I untie the harness from him bit by bit, and I feel him relax as I lead him out to the field next to my place. Then, I’m back to do the same for the mare. They’re partners you see, and I’m glad to say they get along so well.

I start to unpack.

Unpacking is the hard part. I don’t mind packing... it’s always kinda fun to find places for things. But unpacking is more tiring and I don’t really like it as I think it takes longer – or it feels like it.

This time I feel as though somebody’s watching me.

Yes, I’m uneasy about being here.

I escaped from it by the skin of me hide you see... a plague.

Everyone was droppin’ all around and I just threw everything in the wagon and took to the road – any road – that took me home!
Once out onto the winding, clear airs, I didn’t worry so much. I just thought of getting meself home and unpacked. I will wash what I can; and burn off the rest.

I will have to scrub me body until it burns to make sure I don’t have that plague. I would hate to have come all this way, only to find I caught it after all.

A day passes and I’ve burned me blankets I brought back with me, and some of the horse’s blankets – just to be sure. The house has been cleaned; and I had me three-monthly bath early – I will have to bathe every few days to keep meself cleaner than usual. I also burned all me clothes from me journey and have begun making new ones from cloth I had here at the house.

It’s been a week, and things are going well.

The horses are good.

I’m feeling good.

think I have avoided the plague from the city.

I’ve been sleeping with some mug wart in the bed and wild lavender and garlic from the field in my pillow; all of which help me sleep at night and clear my nose.

There’s somethin’ not right.

Into my second week and the horses are dead. I woke up yesterday and they were covered in the same sores as the people in the city and dead in their stalls. They’d been gettin’ weak for about three days now, but ...

Now, I’m sick. I’ve been throwin’ up me food, sweatin’ and have black lumps under my arms that weren’t there last week. I don’t know what it is, but ...

...oh the day is sweet outside.

...the birds sound so sweet...

...the sound of the King’s guards are approaching.


I hope they kill me before....

Sunday, 2 April 2017

Tourmaline

This week, Chuck gave us a list of 10 one word titles to choose from. I saw this one, and just started writing... 

enjoy the ride!

It glimmered.

It glistened.

It beckoned to me from under that glass counter at the gem shop.

The Tourmaline pendant was meant to be mine.

Looking up, I asked for it politely, but inside my mind was swirling and screaming for it to be near me.
I was in love with a gorgeous, peacock blue stone set with silver wrapping around it, a loop at the top and a chain strung through the loop.

It cost me plenty.

But I didn’t care.

I wore it home and strange things began to happen.
I didn’t have bus fare, so got a free ride home... which I thought was nice of the driver. When I arrived home, I found it was my turn to clean the house, but my house mates offered to do it instead and said for me to get in and have a shower and put my feet up.

Why they offered I wasn’t sure... but okay, I did that.

As time went on, more and more things happened around me where I either got out working for things or what I normally found difficult, happened for me very easily. People were friendly, happy and really nice to me – some of them almost sickly sweet – and it didn’t occur to me that something was going on until the last minute... not until it was too late.
I was out at the markets some Saturdays looking for another Tourmaline just like mine – but I never found it. So, I returned to the store where I had found mine, but it had shut down completely.

Everything was gone from the windows.

The whole place was empty.

It was as though it had never existed at all.

A neighbouring shopkeeper came outside, “Can I help you?”
I pulled out the business card I had been given when I bought the necklace, “I’m looking for this place. I was here last week, but now the place is gone.”
She looked at the card, “Last week? That’s impossible. This place has been gone for over a year.”
I wondered exactly how that could be as she gave the card back to me and walked away. Looking back at the store, I noticed an alleyway running down the side of it. Without another thought, I walked towards it, taking it as the city sounds vanished into a void behind me; and I emerged into a private garden of used boxes, rubbish and bins around the back of stores.
A man was having a smoke out the back, sitting on a crate, when he noticed me, “Hey you can’t be here.”
“I was looking for a back way into this store.” I said showing him the business card, “I want to find another Tourmaline for my friend.”
He looked at my pendant, to the card and then handed it back, “I shouldn’t tell you this, but go up those fire exit stairs to the third floor and you’ll find what you’re looking for.”
“How can I trust you?”
“I’m telling you where the owner is; and where she has been for over a year.” He answered before standing on his half-smoked cigarette and going back inside, “You know? I don’t know why I told you where she was... I felt as though I needed to.”

The third floor was one big empty space. I thought it would have been full of hallways and apartments; but it was a loft filled with boxes, a bed and it looked as though somebody had lived there for not just one year, but years.
“Hello?” I called, hearing my voice echo slightly.
“Who’s that!” demanded an old-sounding voice, “Who dares comes into my home?”
“A man told me where to find you.” I walked toward the voice to find a very old woman sitting in an equally old recliner in front of a fireplace. She turned and saw me and her look changed, “Ooh... it’s you. Enjoying your good luck?”
“Not really. Things are coming too easily to me; life isn’t a challenge.” I said, “But I was looking for another one like this but without the doo-hicky spell on it.”
Smirking, she blew the steam off her tea, “Goodie for you, you figured out that’s it’s got a spell on it.”
I looked around, found a chair nearby and sat, “Bad for me is that if I take it off, bad luck will hit me three-fold – I will most probably die or end up in prison.”
Putting her cup down, her eyes moved over to me nodded, “You’re smart. But you’re not talking like you’re under its spell.”
I pulled out of my pocket a little leather bag which stunk like dead eggs, “I have a bag of sulphur with me. I didn’t realise until I was at my university course and handled the sulphur that it was cursed. So, I made the bag up and have been carrying it with me since... that was three days ago.” Shoving it back into my pocket, I looked back at her, “Now, the only people who are affected by it are the people around me.”
She smiled, showing her yellowing, rotting teeth, “I’d love to give you one without a spell on it. But really, you took so long to figure out the spell. You took a year – not a week – to figure it out.”
“No. That’s not true.”
Rising from her seat, she pulled a receipt book from a desk drawer nearby, flipped through the pages, and handed it to me: “It’s there. You bought that thing a year ago. You got your scholarship. Your friends got married and moved away from you. You got into the course you wanted and you are succeeding greatly... and now you think it’s been a week?”
“How do you know how long it’s been?”
“What’s the date on the receipt?”
I read it out aloud, “29th, March, 2016.”
“Okay.” She took the book off me, “What’s today’s date?”
I looked to my watch where there’s a date marker, “2nd, April, 2016.”
“Wrong.” She said, “It’s been a year.” She turned the television on and changed the channel to the news service where they had the date in the corner. It read: “2nd, April, 2017.”
Thank the Gods I was sitting down!
“Now, who are you?”
“I am me.”
“No... look at the business card.” She said.
I pulled it out of my pocket, looked at it and saw there was a photo of an old woman on the front wearing a blue Tourmaline around her neck – one just like mine, “Hey you have one just like mine.”
“It is yours. It is mine too... they are the same Tourmaline.” She pulled from under her scarves and jackets, a blue Tourmaline. It was peacock blue stone set with silver wrapping around it, a loop at the top and a chain strung through the loop exactly like mine, “Now, if you take yours off, which one of us dies?”
“What do you mean?”
She smiled, “Do you and I die? Or does the world implode? Or both?” 

Wednesday, 29 March 2017

The Sanctuary

This has taken me a long time to answer - this challenge - because it's a 'Fuck You to Authority' challenge. Yep, Anarchy... I'm not one to do that much in my life. So writing about it is an uncomfortable thing for me.

enjoy.


It didn’t take much you know.

To over-throw the unit complex.

After all, the manager wasn’t doing his job. He was working his own side of the street. He was supplying money to his hopped-up ex-wife, selling cars on the premises (when he wasn’t allowed to) and not lifting a finger around the place when all Hell went down around at all hours of the night.
He never even called the cops out or stuck his head out of his door to see what was going on – that was what he was paid for.

No.

I did that.

I was the one people ended up turning to when that gang showed up.

I was the one people really rallied behind, asking me what to do, what the plan was, how to get them out or ... well, you know.

And if you don’t, you’re fucking dumber than you look.

But let’s start where it gets interesting, shall we?
It was the dead of night when we were woken by gunshots not far from my place. We raced around in the dark, looking out the window to see if we could see who they were, where they were and why they were around our end of the unit complex – but they were dressed in black.
I could hear people screaming as they were pulled out of their houses in their pajamas – some of them weren’t wearing anything (sleeping naked as some of us do) or in their underwear. The residents and tenants weren’t given any time to ready themselves for the assault on their privacy.
“What do we do?” my girlfriend whispered.
“Come on.” I had an idea as I grabbed her shaking hand, “We’re not going to die.”
She followed me downstairs in our pajamas and I unlocked the door to the car port, opened the Pajero and we got in. I backed out, slammed it into the 4X4 mode and planted the foot.
“Oh my God, Samantha what are you doing???” she shrieked.
I ignored her, “Hang on.”
The 4X4 sped over the large garden bed, the roof rack taking out the guttering of my front door, and then I turned on the flood lights and slammed on the brakes just in time to see the group let go of one guy they were bashing and stand back, holding guns level with my vehicle – but not quite sure where to shoot.
“Who are you!” one of them screamed.
I didn’t answer as I revved the engine.
“You get out and tell me who you are! I demand you do this!” the voice shouted.
I turned on the speaker and took up the C.B component, “How dare you wake me and my neighbours at 2am by dragging people from their homes and shooting them.”
“You are nobody! We rule here now!”
I planted the foot and drove straight into the group of people with guns. As expected, they dropped their weapons and ran.
They thought I wouldn’t follow, but I did. I followed them all to the gate at the front, where it had been locked at midnight, and held them all against it with the bulbar of my vehicle until they stopped screaming...

...until I saw the blue and red lights on the other side of the gate...

...until the police threatened to shoot me through the windscreen...

“Please, Samantha... please back up.” Candice begged me, “You’re scaring me.”
I looked over at her tear-streaked face in the dim lights of the dashboard, “I don’t like living like this. I’m sorry, honey... I just snapped.”
Her cool hand touched my cheek, “I know. I hate being so scared you lock the gates here at midnight; and you don’t even walk down to do it, to drive down.” She looked out at the flashing lights, “But we have to stop this.”
I nodded, “I think I killed somebody back there.” I didn’t mean to.
“You did.”
“I’m so sorry.” I back the vehicle up a little and grabbed the remote and pressed the button to unlock the gate to let the police in. Putting the vehicle in to Park, I turned off the engine and turned off the flood lights, leaving only the headlights on.
The place seemed a so dark now, as I turned to her, “I really need help with my problems.”
“Miss.” A man tapped on the window, “Please turn your window down.”
I turned the key so I could wind down the window, “I’m sorry. They’ve been terrorising our place for over six months now. We have tried to tell you, but they cut our phone lines. And tonight, was the first time they killed people here.”
“We know.” He nodded, “Where is your care taker?”
I looked down, “He was the first person they killed. He lived so close to me. Everyone was relying on me to protect them.” I looked up at him as tears blurred my vision, “I didn’t know what to do.”
He nodded, “Oh man.” He turned from us as we sat there crying. He walked to his superior officer and told him the rundown of what’s been happening, “This place was supposed to be a sanctuary. I mean look at the gate and all... to keep out the bad element. But instead it kept them in, and they ended up ruling over the residents here. Tonight, she took matters into her own hands and did what she thought was her only hope.”
“Why didn’t she call us?” The other cop asked.
“Because the phones had been cut.”
“No... we did that.”
I looked over at them trying not to appear shocked, and Candice picked up on something in me, “What?” she whispered. I shushed her.
“Look this place was supposed to implode and we were told to burn it to the ground and we could move onto the next place over the back. With this bitch destroying any hope in that happening, we’ll have to make both their deaths look like an accident and report it as such.”
“Oh fuck. More paperwork.”

We looked at each other.

I turned the key of the Pajero, revved the engine, turned on the floodlights again.

Here piggy, piggy, piggy!

Sunday, 19 March 2017

A Letter of Disappointment

Chuck asked us to write about Gods/Goddesses. I couldn't get to the computer last night - due to a few thunderstorms hanging around Brisbane City - so today, I had a good think over breakfast. I thought the Almighty would be a good person to write about. And he's pissed!

enjoy.


To the Human Race on Earth,

You know, being the Almighty isn’t what it’s cracked up to be. I have created a series of planets around the universe for you all to live on at some time – and you’re only just discovering their existence now?

Exactly what have you been doing?

Besides fighting amongst yourselves, killing off some of my favourite creatures (yes, the unicorn was a brilliant stroke of genius, but you just had to have things your way! And the dragon as well – trust you lot to hate something that could actually help you win a war from the air!) and you are systematically killing each other off as well with this thing I thought you’d love: technology.
You’re getting fatter, lazier, becoming bigger arseholes than I ever thought was possible and me forbid any of you ever have an original thought!

And don’t get me started on what happens to the good people on your puny, fucked-up planet I used to consider a Paradise.

I’ve seen some pure-hearted people actually go to the trouble of changing themselves for the better over a long period of time, only to have people step on them, treat them as though they’re nothing and call them all kinds of names and beat them up – mentally and physically.

This has got to stop!

After all I am your God and whether you like it or not, I can pull the whole damned pin on your existence and let Lucifer run the show for a while if you want... yes, he does exist and he almost took over what you think is Hell on Earth.  If you don’t believe me: read your Bible and find out what he was going to do to your home you all are so big on screwing over.

In case you’re wondering where I’ll be while you’re all screaming for my help? I’ll be off across the universe on a new planet I’ve been working on – a new project – that’s bigger, better and much more advanced than you squawking little rejects I made the mistake of handing over the controls to.
Oh... oh... you’re demanding an explanation of why I’m so mad.
Demanding – how dare you demand anything from me after I gave you everything you’d ever need to live where you are now.

I gave you life.

I gave you a place to live.

I gave you day and night.

I gave you water and food.

I gave you all you ever needed to survive.

Why couldn’t you just be happy to do that?

If you needed anything, all you needed to do was pray to me and I’d help you with it. I’d help you with your farming, your animals. I set up the seasons and which animals were best to eat... all you had to do was enjoy your life.

But of course, you wanted so much more – you became greedy!

I even sent my son to set things straight.
But you lot crucified him! You destroyed a man who was gentle, who didn’t wish for anything but peace and love and harmony amongst all men.

So, why should I save any of you and yours when your planet is so close to destruction? Why should I cry tears of compassion when you are all just in this for yourselves, for the bottom line... for the almighty dollar, for how much you can get into your pockets, for the biggest house, the most expensive car, the biggest television, loudest stereo system, for how many women you’ve bedded, how many tattoos you have, the most amount of land you own...

...need I go on?

You all have violated one of the Seven Deadly Sins and none of you can see you’re all Gluttons for wealth, for everything around you that’s shiny and pretty so you can fill your houses with more and more crap and not even think that when you die, your grave is going to be exactly the same size as the poor man you wouldn’t give a dollar to the week before.

You’ll just have more things to get rid of... that your family doesn’t want... and you don’t see how much this has destroyed my trust in you all:  my children.

You don’t remember that do you?

You are all my children – every one of you – from the very beginning of time when I created the oceans, the light and dark, the day and night and the animals, the trees, the fish... I still called you my children.

And like any parent, I still love you all very much.

But you have disappointed me so in the past two thousand years – and well beyond that as well – and you don’t see how much you have.

I have deployed my finest Archangels onto your Earth to work with a few of you; but many of you have lost faith in who I am, so you have ignored their signals. There have been only a few of you who have taken notice, whose minds were open enough to realise they were being touched, talked to and tethered to an Angel – but when they told somebody, they were told they were ‘crazy’ or ‘nuts’ or they have ‘an over-active imagination’.

This is really sad to hear from you all.

My chosen few of followers are quietly-spoken people who now go out and do good for people they have never met. They are people who do the charity work and never expect anything in return. They are the people who live on extremely frugal budgets, have no full-time employment and can barely get by; and yet they give everything away to those who have even less than they do – simply because they have a roof over their own head, clothes on their backs and food in their fridges – and there are people who are living worse off than they are.

And these are the people I’m looking at.
These are the people I am staying on this Earth for.
These are the people who have given me the faith to stick around and see how this place will turn out.

These are the people who are not into politics, don’t like fads, they barely trust anyone and yet, they get along with everyone around them, are kind to all kinds and will help anyone no matter who they are.

These are the people who received regular death threats, are bullied every day, pushed around, treated like crap and are told to pull their heads in all the time by other people around them.

These are the Human Beings who will be changing the world.

Not the loud, rude, crude politicians or the racist people who think that indigenous people have no rights, nor the people who think that women have no rights to do what they wish with their bodies. Or that animals have feelings too (which they do, but most are there to be eaten – that’s why I created them for you. In the beginning, I created cows, pigs and basic livestock to eat, not to keep as pets).

So, as I’ve been watching from way up here in the Higher Choirs of Heaven, I have received report after report of my Paradise heading towards what you all have coined ‘Apocalypse’.

Only I pull the switch for one of those – and have done that more than twice in this planet’s long, long life. I call it ‘the reset button’ because it’s something I thought was called for.

This time, you are the cause of the planet’s problems.

You took the technology I thought you were ready for – and clearly you weren’t – and took it in a totally different direction. You all did something horrible with it.

I’m so terribly disappointed in you all.
You should all be ashamed of yourselves for your actions.

I will not help you any longer.

Your prayers will go unanswered.

The Angels who are tethered to the Humans will remain to help only those Humans and none other – once you get rid of those Humans, both the Angels and the Human come home to me.

By the time you all realise what you have done, Lucifer will have taken over your planet.

You want a wrathful God?

You have one.


Saturday, 11 March 2017

The Demon, The Host And the Vinyls

Chuck asked us to create a monster... so I did. Music is an amazing thing - or is it? I've used the main place of Liverpool, UK as my base of the storyline. I must apologise in advance for getting anything wrong. It's been 20 years since my last visit to both London and Liverpool. 

enjoy!



It was all over the papers today.

The rock concert massacre nobody saw coming. I read the headlines in three different papers. And they all said the same thing: ‘The concert hall was packed as the band began to play their first song. By halfway through the concert, something started to go terribly wrong. The music became a mantra, the lead singer transformed into another being and the drum beat turned the audience into zombies and locked the doors’.

I dreaded this very thing.

I knew who had taken over him, but had no way to get close.

Sitting at my breakfast table, I watched the sun rise over the city. I had to do something; and soon. Picking up the phone, I called one of the guys I used to play in a band with – hoping against hope he hadn’t attended that concert – and was relieved to hear his voice, “Robbie! So good to hear your voice, man!”
“Dude! Did you read the paper about the concert last night?” his gritty voice said, “I can’t believe it’s back!”
“We have to do something about this.”
“I’m good with the sound guys with the band. So, if you’re willing, we can put this crap back where it came from.” He suggested, “And have you got the same sounds we made way back when that worked last time?”
I turned and looked at the platinum vinyl framed up on the wall, “Sure do. But I think it’s going to take something more than that this time. He’s going to be expecting us.”
“I’ll be right over.”
As soon as I hung up, I pulled the platinum record off the wall and looked at it. We were going to do some serious work on this thing, but I had to have my coffee first.

Three hours passed and Robbie and I were downstairs in the recording studio with the platinum disk on the player. It had been years since either of us had played them – as he had brought along his to join the sounds together.
“I’ve asked a few of our wizard co-pats to help out, but they’ve all gone into hiding.” He sighed, “This thing is huge... bigger than it was in the 70’s.”
“Crap.” I groaned, “And we’re gettin’ too fuckin’ old for this shit.”
His faded blue eyes met mine, “I know. I vaguely remember Woodstock.”
Laughing I shook my head, “I don’t.” My smile fell off my face as fear replaced what we were up against, “Are we sure it’s the same thing? Or could it have brought along friends?”
“Fuck I hope not.” He leaned his elbows against his knees and looked down, “I really hope not.”

The dubbing went down well.
I don’t know where Robbie got his hands on a blank gold album, but he did. And we recorded more work onto the dubbing of the two vinyls and more chanting and exorcisms – layering them underneath the chords – to hide them more before cutting it all onto the gold vinyl.
“I hope this works.” Robbie whispered as we finished it up and slid it into a box of its own.
“So do I.” I said, “When’s the next concert?”
He pulled up the site of events around London, then around the UK, “Um... Liverpool.”

The city hadn’t changed that much in the last twenty years. It was an industrial city to start with and the council had worked hard to get Liverpool to look like a pretty nice place to be.
Robbie and I climbed off the train and made our way towards Cissy’s place. She was another band member from way back in the 70’s we used to hang with – and the only witch who hadn’t gone into hiding. She wanted in on our game to close down the massacres surrounding this band that it seemed nobody could stop.
“Welcome to my home.” She smiled, “I’m so glad you guys could make it.” She hugged us both and let us into her little cottage, “I was nervous you had been caught on the way by the band members.”
“Nope... they flew, we trained it.” I said.
“No, they trained it too... on the same one you were on.” She said.
“What?” Robbie and I both turned, looking at her.
“I did a location spell and watched the map, you were all two carriages from each other and didn’t even know it.” She said.
My mate – the old bass guitarist from my band – turned pale, “Dude, we have to work fast... we have to get to the hall now!”
“It’s at the University of Liverpool... at the main hall.” Cissy said, “And if you want in, one of you will have to know a roadie to get your butts anywhere near it.”
“Don’t worry about that.” Robbie smiled, “If we can’t get inside it, we can do one better.”
I turned to him, “How?”
He looked at Cissy, “Do you still have that platinum vinyl we all cut when this happened last time?”
“Of course I do. Why?”
“We need your larger turntable. I’ll explain on the way.”

We didn’t need to say much to get into the university hall. Us three looked like older students who had made the wrong turn somewhere on campus and ended up in the main hall at the university where the band was setting up.
Robbie acted like the sound engineer – as he always did, even though he was the bass player – and ordered people around. They jumped when he told them to and he took over the sound area of the whole concert hall. But we had one problem: we couldn’t try out the two vinyls without somebody getting suspicious of what we were doing.
We needed the concert to be in full swing for the exorcism to work as that was when the Demon was about to feed – when it was at its weakest and most vulnerable.  
And now, all we needed to do was wait.


The concert hall filled to capacity.

The turnout was amazing.

There was a quick sound-check – which Robbie did with another guy – and the band started playing straight away.

The place jump. It thrummed. It pounded with the sound of the drums and people singing and chanting... and this was when we realised one thing: this is how the demon came about in the lead singer. 

He was the host for it, and had to be called forward.

We waited until the Demon had taken him over.

We waited until the singer had begun to feed on the mosh pit.

With shaking hands, I turned off the sound... the lights... everything and Cissy dropped both needles at the same time on the gold vinyls; blasting the Gaia Melody Song through over a dozen speakers.
We broke the spell the Demon had over the public in three of the longest minutes of our lives.
The Demon was exorcised in a huge, fiery explosion, which killed the lead singer – and his host – in a massive bloody mess.

We saved so many people that night.

We hid the vinyls in a safe place and made a vow to never speak of this night ever again to each other.

But we had one problem: Cissy, Robbie and I have never been the same since that night. None of us can sleep anymore because the Demon’s screams from Hell invades our dreams every night.

It’s been three years since that night. Cissy was found dead at her house. She couldn’t stand the screaming in her head. Robbie and I have put ourselves into the right places to be helped... but I haven’t seen Robbie today, doc... is he okay? Oh, my god. No. Not you. You were exorcised by Cissy, Robbie and me!

I’m not telling you where those vinyls are...

... tell me where Robbie is.


Saturday, 4 March 2017

The Deal

Chuck has us writing about Right vs Wrong. He put down two choices: 1. Doing a good thing sometimes means being evil, and 2. The road to Hell is paved with good intentions. I picked the first one - I think.

enjoy.

I listened at the door of my bedroom as my folks sat down with their financial advisor, Christopher, and realised with dread that they couldn’t afford to keep the house anymore.

It wasn’t late, but I had been sent to my room almost after dinner.

Dad was on his fourth scotch for the night.

Mum looked like she had been crying all day.

I had finished my homework and didn’t need to study for anything important. So listening at the door was my way of keeping in with what was going on in the place.
“I’m sorry. But you’ve stretched your money too thin. Marcey is going to the local high school. You’ve paid off your debt and the new car was something you shouldn’t have bought.” He said.
“It’s a company car.” Dad muttered.
“Oh... I see. So, the other one is the family car?”
“Yes.” Mum whispered, “I don’t understand where we went wrong. Darcy told us last year that we were going well... really well. After he left the company, and you took over our account, we seemed to be losing money left and right.”
I wondered about this too. How could my folks be floundering so much in just one year when they really didn’t spend any money on big things? Sure I was only seventeen, but I knew my folks weren’t big spenders. Dad was always fixing things around the place. Mum was forever pointing out that second-hand clothes were groovier than brand new (and sometimes she was right). Our whole house was filled with pre-loved items from all over the city; and Dad had built my bedroom frame from leftover steel pieces he found at the dump – and I loved it!

I had to find out why we were so damned broke. Peering between the door and the jamb, I saw they had finished up for the night and my folks were alone.
I packed my backpack with my ritualistic witchcraft things; along with a knife, a wand, blessing crystals and my spell book; then walked out to the living area towards the front door.
“Where are you going? It’s late.” Dad’s voice asked.
“I’m going to Tina’s house and it’s only 7:30, Dad.” I said.
Mum nodded, “It’s on the calendar. They’re going to study.”
“Oh... keep your phone on you.”
I walked out to the footpath where Christopher’s car was still parked as he leaned against it. In the dark, I thought he was as creepy as he was in normal light – so it wasn’t just my imagination.
“Hey, kid.” He called out, “Can we talk for a bit?”
I stopped, feeling nervous, “I don’t see how you’d be interested in me. You’re an adult here talking about adult things.”
“You’re almost an adult.” He grinned, “We can talk.”
I shrugged, “What about?”
“You’re folks don’t have any money.”
“I think you’re wrong.”
“I’m the financial advisor, not you.” He snapped, “But they could be swimming in it if you do a little something for me.”
“What?”
“Get your Dad outa the picture and the money will come flooding back in.” Christopher said.
“As life insurance.” I retorted, “And no.” I turned to leave, when his hand landed on my shoulder, gripping it hard as I felt the heat emanate from it and smelled my skin begin to burn.
“Now, we’re going to make a deal and you’re going to say yes, you little witch.” His voice growled into my ear.
“How did you..?” I turned to find not Christopher next to me, but a demon. His grin wasn’t the only thing lighting up his face. His eyes... oh my god, his eyes were... “Christo.”
“Oh the little witch has done her homework alright! You know my name in Latin, wonderful.” He chortled.
Shoving his hand off me, I backed away, “I make no deal with a demon.”
"A little late for that, young lady... your mother already did. Why do you think she looks so tired all the time? I’ve been showing up here during the day when you and your Daddikins have been out at work... at school... and well, now, she’s...” he turned smiling, “...you know.”
“No... not that.” I dropped my bag and the first thing that fell out was my ceremonial knife. It was long, and shining and beautiful. But it wasn’t until the streetlight caught its blade that I noticed it and I picked it up.
“Oh... you’ve got a knife.” He made fun of the athame until he spotted the dark jewels and hilt of the weapon, “Oh shit.”
Making a lunge for my hand, I swept my free hand in front of me, “Protectis!” and a force field surrounded me as he ran straight into it, bounced off it and onto his arse.
“I hate you witches! You don’t fight fair.”
Letting down the force field, I nodded, “Neither do you. But then my folks don’t know about me.”
“Marcey?” Dad’s voice asked in the darkness, “Did I just see you create a force field out of nothing? And what are you doing with a knife?”
I glanced his way just for a moment.
It was just enough time for Christopher to make his move.

I saw him...

...and I...

... there was blood

...everywhere!

The courts told my parents I wasn’t in my right mind to answer any questions. The police told the lawyers I had been under the influence of drugs – or something – and yet they found nothing in my bedroom to show of that fact. The financial company told my folks they had never heard of Christopher before and Darcy never left the company (my folks just didn’t call for another appointment). Their money was fine and there was nothing wrong.
I was put into a heavy security psychiatric hospital for the rest of my life because I kept on seeing Christopher – Christo – in the court room.

I still see him.

He keeps me awake at night...

....trying to make a deal with me...

...this time, he wants me to do something for him... 

he still wants me to kill for him.

I must be getting better...



because I still say no.