THE RAT. The big ugly one.

I couldn't tell the tale in a five-minute conversation. Which seems to be all I've been having with any given acquaintances or casual friends. I'll have to write it down instead. To begin, I've been deteriorating rapidly in a state of lonely rot lately. Collecting mental bacteria deposited by the house flies of doubt, self-loathing, … Continue reading THE RAT. The big ugly one.



Ever wonder why people have the audacity to question the official narrative of a real life saga? Is it because the climax seems to be as imaginatively created as one's favourite novel? What makes some of us wonder with a mind that tends to think critically, only to find out that paranoia and the perceptions … Continue reading Suicided

My Hand. It’s gone.

Instantly, it was gone. It was there, and then it wasn't. I mean my hand. It was just chopped off. I mean like ... just fucking chopped off. It was so clean, and quick, I didn't even go into shock right way. Or maybe I did, but I didn't know it. Either way, I didn't … Continue reading My Hand. It’s gone.

The Mandela Effect

"Tell me then, Mr. Grosby. How do you remember it?" Dr. Shelley asked. The question was ridiculous. The murders were in all of the papers. All of the news sites. LeakVids had gotten ahold of the footage from one of my crime scenes and posted it for the world to see in all its glory. … Continue reading The Mandela Effect

The Miracle Drug

Forced into a corner. Hunkered down, sweat pouring down his face mixed with the tears that he had shed. Completely nude, shaved, and scoured of all loose DNA. The room was clean, sterile, and disinfected and would remain so. No murder victims available. No abuse. No release. Stuart hated his name. Hated his life. Hated … Continue reading The Miracle Drug

Murder Me

"Murder me." He said. "Murder you?" I asked "Yes. Simple as that and the money is yours." This was the proposition presented to me as I sat across a table, haphazardly wiped with a semi-dirty wash cloth, and still smelling slightly of the bleach that was used to sanitize the bucket of water the cloth … Continue reading Murder Me

The Reflection Part II

[This is in the "Just why?" Category for gore. It is a bit long but if you liked the The Reflection, you will probably like the conclusion. I wasn't going to but Automatic Ema talked me into it. In all fairness, she didn't have to try real hard! I felt there was more to the … Continue reading The Reflection Part II

Your Tale

Savannah Gothic poem. Read it, think about it, and if ever teetering on the precipice of a regretful decision that could never be regretted, come and read it again.

savannah gothic

You live through things to tell the tale. Hopeful like a wishing well. What’s done is done and it was hell. We’ve followed the witchy breadcrumb trail.

The drowning girl, the burning man. I see him reaching out his hand. Her small blue face, hands like white sand. It’s not something that I understand.

Watching someone ruin their life. You cling to yours and hide the knives. They cut and bleed and ask you why. They do it to themselves then cry.

One more moment with so many. Last words said as hearts are heavy. One word could have changed a death. One little poem could save their breath.

So close to death I’ve always been. So close that death and I are kin. Life’s a game I cannot win. Is it some karma or some sin?

Hold life close and don’t look back. If you can breathe you are…

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Tech In The Eyes

[Photo: Google Contact Lens] [Mild Sci-Fi story. Not quite horror. I put a murder scene in at the end to fulfill my own genre requirements for this site. Oh, who am I kidding. Someone needed to die! I am not a full blown doomsday preacher, but I am wary of something like this or as … Continue reading Tech In The Eyes