The Twisted

“I have something I need to tell you.” Her eyes shifted nervously. She sat up in bed unaware that her breasts were exposed.

Hopping on one foot he looked at her as he pulled on his pant leg, partly distracted by her bare chest. “What’s that?”

Downstairs a door slams

“What do you need to tell me?” Flattening out his belt before locking it on to place with the clasp. Nervous panic starting to flood through his system.

“I’m pregnant.”

John’s head perked up and he dropped his shirt to the floor with one boot on and the other half way. “You’re what?”

“Pregnant…” Michelle said her eyes shifting to the bed sheets.

“Michelle! Where are you.” A yell came from downstairs. Footsteps could be heard coming up the old steps that creaked with the mans weight.

“Not the best timing Michelle.”

“Well I’m sorry.” She said pouting. “But I love you.”

John’s expression was less then thrilled at that. “Fuck.” He thought to himself “Just my fucking luck.”

“Michelle! Are you in your room?” A knock came to the door.

“Father I’m not dressed, please give me a moment to make myself presentable.”

“I hear talking, there better not be someone in there with you. I raised no whore.”

John chuckled. If only her father knew how bad his little girl was. She made the prostitutes at the local brothel look like good church going women. Quickly John put his shirt om and grabbed his cloak sliding it on. “We will talk later.” John had no plans on returning to this girls bedside again. He was gone, dust in the wind. His next stop was a tavern to get a drink and then grab his horse and leave this dusty town behind.

“Father I am alone…I just bathed…please.”

Hard knocks came to the door that rattled the hinges.

“Father stop!”

“That’s it, he is in there isn’t he. That fucking asshole is going to answer to me! It better not be David’s retard of a son in there.”

John looked surprised at Michelle. “Who’s David?” John paused in thought. “Maybe it’s David’s kid?”

Michelle shook her head, at this moment the door burst inwards and there stood her father, all six two of him and 300 plus pounds. “You motherfucker!” His eyes met John’s.

“Actually daughter fucker would be more accurate.” John said with a smile. Reaching for his holster he then looked to the window thinking that would be his best bet to escape.

“You fucked my daughter John!” The father stepped in to the room and reached for his gun.

“Is that a question or a statement?” John looked down the barrel of the gun. “Hey…hey we’re all friends here… right?”

“You know how old she is? Friends don’t fuck friends daughters!”

John shrugged his shoulders. “Would it matter if she was older?”

Rick pulled his pistol and fired which sent John diving and Michelle screaming.

John managed to dive in the corner which offered some protection thanks to a dresser. But all Michelle’s father had to do was take two steps and he’d have a clear shot. John stared at the bullet holes in the wall, he didn’t miss by much. “Let’s just talk Rick.”

“Fuck talking.” Rick fired another few shots.

John started counting on his fingers. He wasn’t so good at math. John continued to count and noticed the closet door would open towards him and he could use it to get a bit more protection. Doing so he pinned himself in the corner. Door on one side, dresser on the other.

Another shot blew a hole right through the door just missing John’s head. “That was six right?” John said to himself. Shortly he had silently agreed with himself that six shots had been fired pushed the door closed and walked towards Rick who was focused on loading his revolver.

John reached out with his hands and grabbed the sides of Ricks head snapping it quickly to the left. There was a quick bone chilling crack then Rick’s body fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

John took a deep breath and sighed. “Well fuck.” He looked around for Michelle but she was no where to be found. John walked around the bed and saw Michelle laying on the floor tits to ground, ass up, one leg bent and leaning against the bed the other stretched out. John cocked his head and saw a pool of blood under her body. He didn’t know if he should laugh, cry, or just run. Rick in his madness had accidently shot his daughter but missed him.

“Ain’t that something.” John gathered his things and slowly walked out the front door with a whistle.

The End.

The Unsainted

“Aww I was looking forward to eating that.”  Rick said as he watched his toasted marshmallow fall to the ground just outside the fire pit.

“Good job Rick, mine tastes great!”  Mark said as he pulled the freshly toasted marshmallow off the bent close hanger and quickly put it into his mouth.  Mark soon realized his mistake as the marshmallow was to hot and he had to spit it out, his marshmallow now laid on the grass beside Rick’s.  The two friends shared a look and started to laugh.

“Okay…okay settle down.  It’s almost time to call it a night.”  Troop leader Greg said.

“Can we have a scary story before we go to bed?”

“I don’t know Jordan, it’s late.”

“Come on Troop Leader Greg.  What is a campfire without a scary story?”

Greg paused and thought about it for a moment, trying to come up with an idea for a story.  With a deep breath he smiled.  “Okay…one story.”  Greg took a drink of his pop that was spike with whiskey before beginning.

“Along time ago before this was a camp site for the Troops of Tomorrow, it was sacred land.  Once stood a church just up the hill, the ruins long ago rotted and returned to the ground.  But before time stole the sanctuaries beauty it was once a beautiful home to a loving Priest that was hailed as an angle sent from God.  Of course he had help, five Nun’s also called this church home.  Together they did great good, raised money for charities, helped the poor, fed the hungry.  Life was good and good was the lives that lived on this land.  But time passed as it does, and the faithful that once flooded these lands to listen to the Priest talk about God and learn God’s teachings fell on hard times.  The world was changing, people were changing and faith was leaving this world one ignored prayer at a time.  The Priest and his Nuns did what they could to try to draw attention to the dying church by doing what all churches do, by having bake sales.”

“Trooper Leader Greg, this isn’t scary.”  Mark said.

“I’m getting there…do you want a story or not?”

“Okay…okay…” Mark said and filled his mouth with a raw marshmallow.

“But still they could not keep their lovely but fading church alive.  And so the once magnificent sanctuary faded in to obscurity.  But the Priest and the Nuns did not lose their faith and stayed here keeping faith in God and believing that they would resurrect their God loving home as Jesus was resurrected.  Year after year passed and one by one the Nun’s grew old and died of illnesses and old age.  Their bodies committed to the ground not far from here.  During this time a terrible storm moved in across the land.  High winds slapping the ground and blowing the trees, lighting shattering the darkness of the sky with thundering screams echoing over the land.  Rain fell hard turning the earth to mush.  During the storm the Priest ran out and looked up into the sky and yelled at God’s fury that was unleashed on the world that night.  He cried up to God and asked why, wanting to know why this was done to him, why he fell from favor and into despair.  It was during these blasphemies that God answered him by striking him dead with a powerfully lightening blast.  It is said that this blast of God’s might had turned the Priest into ash instantly his soul was set a flame.  Rumour has it that if you look in to the flames of camp fires you can see his set aflame.”

All the attention of the kids was now on the fire.  Greg smiled to himself, unscrewed the top of his drink and tossed it in to the flames.  The high alcohol content sent an explosion in to the air and sent the kids flying back in screams, but Greg was laughing.

“How was that?”  Greg asked.

“It was great.”  In the fire a shadow stood, its face broke, its body burnt.  From the shadows high pitched screams echoed as warped and impossibly skinny darks shadows came alive with claws for hands and white beady eyes set deep in their shadowed skulls.  Greg stood up but one quick slash sent a wave of blood up over the children spattering them as they went running into the surrounded forest with the clawed and pained spirits of the nuns chasing after them.  In the fire the Priest stood and looked down at the dying man who managed to ask.  “Who are you?”

The Priest smiled.  “We…are the Unsainted.”

Rocket Ship

I took a long deep pull on the cigarette that was mixed with some weed.  The drug policy at work was clear, don’t come to work high.  But getting high was the only way to make it through work.  Mixing it with tobacco hide it nicely.  It was lunch time and I had walked over to the park not to far from work.  Sat down on the same bench I always did and watched the world pass.  Checking out the occasional jogger in yoga pants as she ran through life.

Holding the cigarette between two fingers I reached for my water bottle and unscrewed the cap and took a few deep gulps of carbonated water, grapefruit was my flavor of choice.  A sudden bang caused me to drop my water bottle into my lap.  It scared the living crap out of me, and now it looked like I pissed my pants.  I looked around thinking it was a car accident, or a gun shot, or worse some kind of terror attack.  Seeing nothing I turned my attention to the sky and there were four vapour clouds in the shape of circles, each one a little small than the other.  Screams echoed through the park.  I heard one person yell out that this was a nuclear attack and we were all about to die.  I doubted that or we’d already be dead from the air burst.  The only reason I knew this was from video games and movies.

An object in the sky slowly caused me to stand, my head titled up as I watched this ship come in to focus.  It looked like a rocket ship straight out of 1950’s science fiction.  It was cylindrical in shape and came to a rounded point with long fins attached at the rear with a flame that seemed to be cutting in and out.  And the bloody thing was coming right at me.

I was in shock at being this close to some strange event, I wanted to move but my body was glued to the spot.

Sirens echoed in the city behind me as emergency services rolled up on to the scene.  Police cars jumped the curb, followed by swat vans.  Shit was hitting the fan it a big way.  Being the idiot that I am I decided to walk in to the park, following the emergency vehicles.  I had only walked a few steps before the ship passed out of view, hidden by the tree tops.  The ground shook and was followed by a bloom of dirt, sod, and women screaming.  The ship had crashed and I picked up my pace not wanting to miss out on the excitement of first contact.  Totally forgetting that my lunch was over.  But who was still working with all this racket going on?

 

I follow the emergence crew lights and my pace slowed as I near the scene.  Police cars blocked most of the crowd and the police officers were doing a great job at keeping the rest of us far enough away that we couldn’t see much.  Behind me a horn went off and I turned to see large black Hum-V’s enter the park.  They had no army or military insignia’s on them.  But they didn’t seem to give a shit who I was or anyone else.  After nearly running us over I watched the vehicles enter the park.

Men in dark suits stepped out, probably with some secret government department that I never had heard of.  They walked up to the police and whispered something and all there men were pulled back.  My attention then turned to what everyone else was staring at, a large ship with spider like legs holding it up right.  It was red and white with some scorch marks from when it entered the atmosphere.  The men in black suits walked up and stood just before it, military personal behind them in urban camouflage with weapons at the ready.

An orb of light between the men in black suits and the ship appeared.  It was bright and seemed to grow in brightness until a flash caused me to look away.  A gasp shared with the group moved through the crowd as we all shared a breath.  Standing where the orb had been were three….three…fuck if I knew what they were.  They looked like us but with short torsos and long limbs.  But there bodies were hidden behind some kind of suit.

And then it began.

People started to fall down like they were being choked and a few seconds later there was a pop sound.  Like a child had jumped in a deep puddle a wave of dark red blood was sent up in to the air.  The sound of guns silenced the sound of screams.  One by one people exploded like water balloons.  I did what I could only do.  I brought my cig from hand to my lips took a long hard pull.  A high pitched sound echoed inside my head, I felt a great pressure.  The cigarette dropped from my lips, I saw it flutter through the sky for a brief beautiful moment the cigarette hung in the air.  Then I to, went pop.

 

The End.

Snuffed

This week I thought I’d change it up a bit.  I do enjoy writing poetry as well as short stories and of late I’ve wanted to share more of the poetry I write.  This is a new poem I wrote not to long ago.  I hope you enjoy it.


 

Snuffed

What use to feel right
Now causes me to take flight
The burning flame
Snuffed and now I place blame

A constant argument deep in mind
Killing myself a step at a time
Royal rumble destroying thoughts dead
Ever growing concern of fear and dread

Confused

The cuffs of fear bind me
Lost and wanting to be free
Cracks in flesh are old marks I bled
Ideas lost between tired threads

A hopeless path
Filled with emptiness of once full craft
Trying to stoke the flame to life
The ashes are already dead stuck with a knife

F.C. Janes