Category Archives: fiction

Shortie Story pt2

Day_1_Dalat_fire_in_alley

As promised, the second of my little character biographies, given by themselves.

Here we have Addison. It was titled Adrift.

 

Adrift:

Addison sat on the ground, her back resting against the building as she kicked her legs out in front of her, crossing her feet at the ankles. She took a flask from her jacket pocket and gave her companions of the evening a toast.

 

“Well, since I know all about you guys, I guess you all should know a little about me, huh?” She asked. She took another sip and settled herself into her spot in the dimly lit alley to tell her story. A small fire between them all kept the chill at bay.

 

“I had come into this world in 1685. I know, I know. Don’t look a day over 20, do I? Anyway, things were way different than they are now. No interwebs, tweeter or the googles. But, as they say, time brings on a lot of change. Advances.” She smiled, giving a nod and another sip of her flask. She offered it to her companions, but none took her up on her offer. They knew what she was drinking. Wasn’t their ‘style’ she supposed. She shrugged and readjusted the Katana strapped to her back.

 

She continued, glad, in a bit, that none wanted to share in her drink and they didn’t seem like the ‘judgey’ sort. “Yanno, we all have our hardships, and I’ve had enough for several lifetimes over. I started life as a plain old human, just like you guys, and then one night, one chance encounter changed all that.” She looked down at her hands for a moment, rubbing them on her jeans as if smoothing them.

 

“I became a vampire. Don’t laugh; I’m not kidding! Blood sucking, gore lovin’ vampire! I didn’t ever think they existed myself until I became one. I was so lost. No one taught me how to be a vampire. The one who bit me just left. Probably thought he killed me. Anyway…” She took a slight paused for breath and collecting her thoughts. Her thoughts were always muddled. Maybe it was all the drinking. Or maybe that’s just her. Her mind was muddled and broken.

 

“…Anyways…I loved it. I never dealt with the terrible transition of human to monster at all. It was as if I was born to it. And I never lamented taking lives so that I could continue to exist. Everyone was just little walking blood bags to me. Even children.” She flashed a smile, though tried to keep her face schooled in innocence. “My voodoo became more powerful, too. Granted, that got me in a spot of trouble with Baron Samedi, but that’s a story for another time. We’ll just stick with ‘I’m a damn fine Mambo’ for getting out of that one.” Addison said with a wink.

 

“I had come to have lovers that came and went. I never took it hard. Kind of hard to find someone when you’re looking at people wondering what their blood type is.” She snickered, pulling her long dark hair over her shoulder.

 

“I then stumbled over the Realm behind the veil. A world unto its own. So many species of light and dark, some living in harmony, some living in war. I had taken my time in choosing a home. I almost didn’t bother. I had spent 600 years in relative isolation, letting the wars of man entertain me. But then I found out that to get stronger, you needed people to help you along in your path.”

 

She let silence fall for just a few moments, sipping from her flask again as the memories danced behind her eyes. “In the Realm, I had a chance to join a collective. Mr. Brollachan opened his doors to me. Within the coven, I was taught how to bring my strength up higher, and for awhile I got stronger and stronger pretty quickly. I thrived on the challenges…but then… along the way, I had met this Slayer. He was so dreamy. There was an immediate, albeit forbidden connection.” She sparkle left her eyes in her storytelling. A solemnness came over her.

 

“I no longer wanted even the tiny bit of freedom I had left. I wanted to share myself with this man. I asked to leave the coven and permission was granted. Though, I went through even more trials. Events that further shaped me. My Slayer was at my side, though. With the help of an Arch Angel, I underwent a reversal of my vampirism. Terribly painful it was. I was cleansed and made whole again. Human, though immortal. A Slayer in my own right. Me and my Slayer entered into a Holy Union, committing to share our life and love with one another always. I guess I should also mention that the Arch Angel didn’t fix me right. I’m not entirely…human…I don’t think. And he is making me suffer, always. I know its hard to tell, what can I say? I’m a great actress.” Silence befell Addison once again. She looked to her listeners. She didn’t want to depress them utterly. It couldn’t be helped. It was a sad story.

 

She resumed. “And then my Slayer left to who knows where.” She flailed her arms a bit. “He left me all alone with no idea how to be human…how to be ‘normal’ again. I was so lost. Once again adrift in my isolation. It wasn’t even an isolation I was comfortable with because I didn’t know how to be what I am now, alone. That…and my heart was shattered. Never, in all my long years, have I suffered a broken heart. Its horrible and painful and …icky. He’s dead now, by the way. Don’t look at me, I didn’t kill him!” Addison said, a small pout coming to her lips as her brows furrowed.

 

“Rather than my complacent isolation, mine turned into rage. I let it boil inside. Always swallowing it back down when it bubbled up like bile in my throat.” She said, her tone seething, almost a hiss.

 

“I decided I didn’t need to be afloat on my own during that time. I reached out to a well-known Sanctuary leader, and he accepted my request to join his crew. I thought it would help me to be immersed with others again. To mingle not just with my new crewmates, but with others I happened upon within the Realm.” She said, her face blank of expression. Her words, too, felt a little flat on her tongue.

 

“I found myself afloat again. Drifting. Aimless and wondering. I started to embrace that solitude once again. I wasn’t working on myself. None of my goals were being reached. No one really interacted with me at all. I latched hold of another crewmate, a young Lycan woman, but she seems to dislike me a great deal. For me, that’s just sheer entertainment within itself. Oh, and there is an Angel I talk to sometimes. I wouldn’t call us friends though. I really think people just …tolerate me.” She chuckled, letting that sadness drift away, even if for a moment. She sipped her drink, her pale blue eyes scanning the faces of her companions.

 

That sadness seeped its way back in. “I sit now, alone on this island within a vastly populated world. My mind teeters on what to do next. Keep striving the fight the good fight? Be a good people person? Fight the good fight? Or let my isolation consume me once again…become a monster again. The vampiric life wasn’t a bad one. In all honesty, I miss it a lot. It had more freedoms, and the blood and the violence quelled something deeply broken and growling within me.” She silenced herself, looking around.

 

“Do you guys think I’m crazy? I think I am. I think I am …damaged goods. You know, I’m going to die alone. I pretty much guarantee it. Can you see the headlines… ‘Woman dies alone with 72 cats. Cats feast upon her corpse’. That’d be funny. Sad, but funny. I’d be one with all my cats, though, wouldn’t I?” She laughed out loud at her own humor, as dark and depressing as it may have been. She sobered then, for just a moment. “I’m just so alone. Nothing has meaning or purpose. I have no love, no friends. Well, you guys, but, come on…we aren’t that close…”

 

Addison looked to her drinking buddies and decided that they were either bored or just too drunk to care.

 

Or it may have had something to do with that fact that she had sliced all their throats an hour ago.

Hope you enjoyed!


A shortie story pt 1

open journals

The following little character profile was from a short contest on one of my Role Play game sites. We were to have our characters talk about what made them who they are today…their childhood and the like. This first one is Genesis, a werewolf. We were allowed to tell their story in any format, from journal to interview with another personal, to video type diaries. I chose journal format for Genesis.

And away we go!

 

Genesis: All American Girl

Journal Entry 2/2017

 

2017 already. Hard to believe how time seems to fly in happy times, and drag in the dreadful. This is a brand new journal, by the way. I haven’t kept a journal in a few years now. Growing up I kept one religiously.

 

I was reading through some of them earlier, that’s what made me decide to pick it back up again. I don’t want memories to be lost, even the uglier side of life.

 

When looking through my really old journals, I found one that brought back all kinds of depressing memories. Most entries were about my mother. She was a slut. Okay, well, more like a wh0re, because those guys she brought home paid her in some fashion or another. I usually just locked my door and shoved pillows over my head. I have to add that I added locks to my bedroom doors in all the scummy trailers we rented when we moved here, or were kicked out of there. Those men my mom brought home…they leered at me. Perverts. All of them.

 

I kept myself distracted, and away from home, as much as I could. I ran track in secondary school and high school. I was honor roll, which meant I stayed in the library a lot, studying.

 

Sometimes when I would come home, my mother would be waiting. She’d call me names, accuse me of things, tell me how she should have aborted me when she had the chance. I should point out here, that the reason she DIDN’T abort me, is that my father was some kind of royalty in the Lycan community. My mother is pure Lycan as well. She must have figured giving this man a full blood heir, even though I’m a girl, well, she must have thought he would support her, or me. Instead, he told her to kill me, that I was a bastard pup, and never contact him again.

 

All American family, right?

 

I isolated myself a lot growing up. We moved so often, I never felt any point in making friends. I stuck to my studies. In my senior year of high school a Marine Corp recruiter contacted me. I signed right up. The day after graduation, with honors btw, I was out of there. I left my mom a couple hundred dollars that I’d saved up with a note that I was leaving, and never look for me. I was as dead to her as she was to me.

 

I thrived in the Marine Corp. Maybe I had an unfair advantage, being a Lycan and all, but still. I loved it. And they had found their perfect marksman. Problem was, females couldn’t really be on over-watch. I served two tours in Afghanistan, and then came back to the states. I served on the Marksmanship Team and got all kinds of awards.

 

By the time I made E-5 serving as an MP, people were taking notice that I wasn’t really aging. It was odd to me, because my mother looked way older than she was. I guess I should just attribute that to the lifestyle of booze and drugs she led, whereas I was all about discipline, wellness, taking care of myself.

 

I had a group of good friends when I was in the military. I still keep in touch with some. Some even know my secret (that I’m not…human). A group of us will meet up somewhere and have a few drinks, remember the days and nights in the desert, the thrill of live fire and explosions. However, not so many of us remember those as ‘good times’. A lot of people come back broken from war zones.

 

Again, I thrived in it.

 

Anyway, after I left the military, I traveled around. I guess I’m kind of a penny pincher, because I have plenty of money. I was bored though. I tried to think of what I could do as a career. That’s when, by chance, someone from the old military days, asked me if I could take someone out. As in, kill them. They offered me money (okay, A LOT of money), said they didn’t care how I did it, just get it done by a certain day and time and the money would be wired to me.

 

My first contract kill.

 

I took the target out from 5 buildings away. He was sitting at his desk having and drink, I pulled my little trigger and poof…red mist. The guy wobbled in his chair a little before falling face first into the desk. From my angle, well, he had no back of the head left. It gave me the warm fuzzies.

 

So…I started to take more clients like this. I set up overseas accounts for payments and got my name dropped here and there in all the right circles. Mercenaries get a bad wrap, but we do take out some pretty nasty people. And its not all just getting a name and killing people. Sometimes you have to hunt information, do a little tracking, grease the palms of other people. I had to get tech savvy in a hurry and start knowing and getting in good with all the right people.

 

I started to realize one night that while I was using my enhanced senses to pinpoint targets and the like, I wasn’t really working on those aspects of myself. The wolf in me needed more.

 

I was floundering in mediocrity. I couldn’t have that. The wolf must be satisfied.

 

I joined a crew at the urging of a friend and, well, at first things were fine and dandy, but they went downhill fast. Leadership and I didn’t agree, and me being me, blatantly said what was on my mind. I ended up leaving the crew.

 

I needed a pack, so to speak, to help me grow. So I didn’t waste any time in finding exactly what I needed. Azhi. Home. I have never regretted joining this crew.

 

I have friends, we talk. The loveliest part of it all, is I can still indulge in the hunt and make money, money, money. Yes, I’m a greedy cow.

 

Now, I love my home with all my heart. Only one bad occurrence ever happened here, and thats when I tried to kid myself into thinking I could have a love life. I met someone, he joined the crew and we got married. Probably the shortest marriage of all time. No…I’ve actually seen shorter.

 

One day, out of the blue, he packed all my stuff from our boat and placed it on the dock and handed me divorce papers. I was shocked to say the least. I didn’t know how to react. Was he expecting a big display of emotion? He didn’t get it. That’s not my style. I picked up my stuff, tucked the papers into my back pocket and walked away. He left. End of story. He’s still in the Azhi roster, but he’s been gone for years now.

 

I keep my heart closely guarded now. I have a crush on someone, but, well, that’s a pipe-dream I think.

 

The crew is growing and expanding and its exciting. Mind you, we all stick to ourselves, but, I bet at any given moment if I called someone for help, they would be there in a heartbeat, and I would do the same in return.

 

I can live in isolation, and I can integrate into a team just fine. I love both. It truly is the best of both worlds. It sates my desire for privacy, which I hold high, and it also gives me people to chill with, help, laugh with…its nice.

 

I’m a little rough around the edges. I’ve always been a tom-boy. I sometimes speak before thinking, or, rather, speak very bluntly. But hey, I give honesty, that’s got to count for something, right?

 

So, I’ve come a long way from those days of keeping my face planted in a book to avoid people, to having a home and friends. I’ve achieved a lot, too. Not so much in social skills, I still lack those, but my training is picking up again, I feel better about myself, and I know I can call people up from time to time for sh!ts and giggles.

 

Life is good.

 

Hope you enjoyed that! I will be posting up Addisons little bit in a day or two.

 

And for the record, Addisons won 2nd place and Genesis won 3rd. ^.~

 


Story: Who's the Monster

abomination

Addison was no stranger to the reference of ‘monster.’ She was a vampire, what more could people call her? She lurked in the night, savoring the blood of passing strangers, leaving the carcasses to rot in back alleys. It didn’t matter their age, gender, ethnicity. She did try to take out those who held evil in their hearts, however. Sort of her style of being a superhero, in her warped little brain. She would then take her time in looting their pockets of valuables and cash as well.

 

She wasn’t a nice little creature of the night. Yet, to look at her, you would swear she was the picture of near innocence, with her long black hair, somewhat tanned skin, and adorable smile. Her behavior was often …odd. Quirky, if you will.

 

The little Southern Bell of a vampire also prided herself on her knowledge and accomplishment as a voodoo practitioner.

 

Until a week ago, that is.

 

She had finally come across a voodoo curse she couldn’t counter.

 

The situation that evolved was not intended. Addison had simply wanted to go shopping, and the Mambo of the secret little shop in New Orleans took offense to her vampiric nature and knowledge of the arts that should have been forbidden. The Mambo felt that whether in life-or-death, the likes of Addison had no business knowing the ancient arts.

 

The result of her work? Addison was more monster now than ever. She couldn’t show herself in public, even at night. She no longer passed as human. She could barely speak with how her flesh hung from her jaw and her throat seemed open to the elements.

 

The beauty she once had was gone.

 

She looked long and hard at herself in the mirror in the abandoned gas station restroom. She attempted to make an appalled face, though nothing but a mere twitch of old skin came forth.

 

The Voodoo Priestess she had tangled with had developed a powder of some sort, blowing it into Addison’s face. The powder then reverted Addison to what she would have looked like had she never been turned by that vampire so long ago before New Orleans was even a city. A simple dead girl, one that had been in the ground for a few years. She looked like a dried up husk. A scarecrow of stretched and weathered flesh. Her hair had fallen out here and there; one eye had sunken in and what hair she was left on top of her head had turned gray and white.

 

Her body had gone from athletic and lithe, to nothing more than gray dried skin and bones. It was hard to move around. Every movement she did make was almost agony, and that set her to vocalize that feeling with small moans and groans. Was she a zombie now? She wasn’t craving any brains.

 

She desperately needed to either make this Mambo reverse the powders effects, or find a way to correct things herself.

 

There was one upside to it all. Thus far, Addison had felt no hunger. No need for fresh blood… or brains.

 

There was also a downside. Insects and rodents started to look tastier and tastier. Addison refused to give in to those cravings. It was a bit of a struggle at times. Given any other time, Addison was terrified of insects.

 

She hated to admit it, but for any progress to be made to restore herself, she was going to have to ask someone for help. She pulled her cellphone into her leathery, boney fingers and scrolled through her contacts. This was made difficult, as the screen did not want to accept her near fleshless, bone fingers. At least she still held some body heat or electrical impulses from her brain through her body enough to make the screen even work.

 

As she scrolled through her contacts, she frowned. She could find no one. Well, there was one exception. He was a demon, and Addison did not like him. She had done him a favorite once, and he owed her one in returned.

 

She dialed his number, trying to speak when he answered. Dirt or something fell from her mouth, and she choked. With a damaged windpipe and useless vocal chords, this just wasn’t going to work.

 

She hung up and started texting him as fast as she could. She abbreviated what she could, misspelled things and auto-correct would be the death of her.  She managed to give him her location, pleading for him to bring her some select spices, powders, herbs, roots and petals. And a bats heart. Yes, that was exactly what she needed. Even better if said bat had rabies.

 

With that done, she sat down on the closed lid of the filthy toilet. She didn’t know what smelled worse – her, or this old run down rest room. The bugs skittering here and there sure did look enticing.

 

After about an hour’s wait, a young man had entered the restroom, slowly and cautiously. Addison peeked out to see the devilishly handsome human appearance of the demon.

 

She opened the door to the stall and stepped out slowly.

 

“Addi?” The man’s deep, smooth voice questioned.

 

She backed herself into the shadows more.

 

His piercing blue eyes sparkled as he lifted an arm, his olive skin glowing into a small ball of flame in his palm, illuminating them both.

 

Addison shrunk away from the light. The demon, however, stared at her. The light of his flame danced off his black hair and plain black hoodie and jeans, until he let the façade fall away. With a slight gasping noise, the once 6-foot male with olive skin and dreamy blue eyes was suddenly a 7-foot obsidian-colored demon with those same icy eyes. A jagged tail whipped behind him and his once normal looking hands were replaced with long talons. His black hair was still there, though a crown of bone protruded from the hairline. His mouth didn’t set right with his facial features either. It now seemed larger, especially when he opened his mouth, all rows of fangs, much like a shark. Derek was his human name. Valkor now stood before her.

 

“Addi? Is… is that you? What trouble have you gotten yourself into? Would be more merciful to allow me to kill you…” He said, his voice rough and gravelly.

 

Addison tried to speak. Tried, but couldn’t, so she started typing on her phone again, showing him the screen, trying to explain the situation.

 

Valkor laughed heartily at Addison’s folly. He also resumed his human façade. ‘Derek’ was much easier on the eyes, for sure.

 

As Addison typed here and there and showed him the screen, he started showing her what he had brought to her. All the ingredients she had asked for, neatly packed into Wal-Mart bags.

 

Addison moved to look down at the materials. Giving a nod, she slowly sat herself down on the floor and set them next to a large bowl she had taken. Derek stood behind her, looking down over her to watch her, and watch over her. She was in a vulnerable state. While there was no love lost between the two, Addison did make for a good ally.

 

Mixing a pinch of this and handful of that, Addison ground the dry ingredients in the bowl before adding the liquids. She had asked for blossoms and petals in hopes the mixture would smell nicer, though sadly nothing covered the stench of alligator dung. The bat’s heart, which did indeed have rabies, made the concoction a disgusting color.

 

Derek waved a hand before his face and made a noise of disgust. “Whew, that’s rank. Let me guess… you have to put that on yourself?” He asked.

 

Addison heaved a sigh of sorts and nodded, dipping both hands into the bowl and stirring it all up while quietly chanting something that was made unintelligible by her damaged face and throat. She then scooped up the muck and spread it all over her face and arms, moving to stand and lurch her way to the restrooms single stall once again. She had to put it all over her body, and even though she currently looked like a cordwood scarecrow, she had her modesty.

 

She put the foul mixture all over her body and waited. As it dried, she could hear Derek waiting patiently, playing a game on his cell phone. It always amused her. Vampires and demons, werewolves too, having changed with the times and played on silly gadgets to kill their unending time and boredom.

 

When the layer of her ‘treatment’ had dried, she moved, bending her joints, letting the dried husk to fall away to the floor in chunks. She dusted herself off, knowing what needed to be done next and dreading every second of it. She took the lid off the toilet cistern and scooped the water out with her hands, clearing away the dusty debris from her body.

 

With what was supposed to be a frown, Addison looked at her arms and hands. “Oh no…” she uttered.

 

Derek perked to her voice. “Not go as planned? Come out, let me look.” He said, lighting the restroom again with his demonic flames.

 

Addison redressed and came out of the stall, shoulders slumped. “Thupid thpell didn’t work right. I need to thee the Mambo for her to fixth thith.”

 

Derek laughed, not just at Addison’s new lisp, but at her appearance. “At least you look a little more… how should I put this… gooey? Squishy?” He chuckled, pressing a finger into the still grayed flesh of her arm, noting that it was no longer a dried scarecrow feel. She had ‘plumped’ a little.

 

The wounds were still there, however, giving cause for her voice to be off and lispy.

 

Addison glared daggers at her demon cohort. “Did you bring the needle and thread? I have to fixth theethe woundths.”

 

Derek then beamed a radiant grin. Addison would not be happy with what he brought, but it was all he could find. “I brought you something to do some stitch work.” He pulled from one of the bags in the corner a skein of blue yarn and a chef’s needle.

 

Addison looked at him, one eye still a little sunken into her head. “You have to be kidding me. I thaid needle and thread. What am I thuppothed to do with that?”

 

Still chuckling, Derek replied. “You will mend all those rips and tears in your flesh, and you can wear my hoodie to walk out of here. Besides, you didn’t say you needed a hospital grade stitching kit.”

 

Addison snatched the yarn and needle from him, moving to the mirror. She stitched up her face, neck, a line on her forehead; various little tears and holes in her flesh. She looked ridiculous when she was finished.

 

“This is so stupid looking.” She huffed out, smacking Derek in the arm.

 

There was a little snap and her eyes widened as she watched in horror as her hand and most of her forearm fell to the floor. Addison squawked “AH!”

 

“HA! Why Addison, you’re just going to pieces over me. Not so tough right now, are you?” Derek barked out in laughter, retrieving her broken limb. He grabbed up the yarn and needle and went to work sewing it back onto Addison’s arm.

 

She was taken by surprise when she tried to wiggle her fingers, and they responded. “Great. I went from a disgusting dried up scarecrow corpse to a living voodoo doll.” She grumbled out. “And I look absolutely hideous.”

 

“I won’t argue with you there. You still smell like a fresh crap, too.” Derek said, smiling at her. “At least that lisp is gone. So what is it that went wrong? I thought you were a pro at this stuff.”

 

Addison crossed her arms and paced for a minute. “No one is ever truly a ‘pro.’ There is always something new to learn.” She paused in thought for a moment before speaking again. “We’re going to go to that Mambo and try to appease her someway.”

 

Derek gave a curt nod. “I’ll back you up however you may need.” He said, lifting his white hoodie off and tossing it to Addison. “Here, slip that on. And, when this is all done, we’re burning it.” He chuckled.

 

Addison slid the hoodie on, sinking into it as it was three times too big for her. She looked like a child playing dress up, and everywhere she touch it, her hands and fingers left dark smears. “Gross.” She pouted. “I guess we should get going. Obviously, it’s not far. I couldn’t have made it any further away than this in the condition she had put me in.”

 

Derek gave a simple nod and went to exit the old gas station restroom. He didn’t notice Addison deftly pick up the rest of the skein of blue yarn and slip it into the pocket of the hoodie. She pulled the hood over her head and joined Derek, walking towards the voodoo shop she had visited.

 

The shop would be closed at this hour, but this was New Orleans, most people lived above their shops, and had courtyards for gatherings. It was a full moon, so there would no doubt be a gathering for ritual work.

 

They passed other pedestrians along the way, some looking oddly at Addison, others outright covering their noses at her stench. “Geez, lady, ever heard of a shower?” Someone had rudely said. Addison made a mental note of them so at a later date she could find them and kill them.

 

They arrived at the shop, knocking on the door. The guard looked out. “What do you want? Haven’t learned your lesson yet?” He scowled.

 

“Please, let me speak to your Mambo… I have an offering for her…” Addison said in a polite tone.

 

She turned to Derek and slipped the yarn from the hoodie pocket, quickly binding his wrists with it. “Just humor me…” She said softly to him. He simply shrugged.

 

The guard returned and opened the shop door and gate before leading them through the back of the shop to the courtyard. A bonfire raged in the middle of a circle, and the Mambo sat in her High Priestess chair as others danced about, paying homage to the voodoo deities.

 

“What do you want?” The Mambo said, leaning forward in her chair.

 

Addison removed the hood from her head, showing the attempted transformation. This made the Mambo laugh. “Please… fix me. You are more knowledgeable than me… I concede to your greatness and offer you a gift.” She said, moving to shove Derek towards the Mambo.

 

“He’s a demon. A true hell-born demon. Don’t worry, I’ve enchanted his bindings, he can do no harm.” Addison added, giving a bow.

 

Derek turned to face her, struggling in the yarn around his wrists. “Addison… you double-crossing wench!” She had indeed enchanted the yarn. He couldn’t transform into his true self or use his mighty powers.

 

The Mambo stood, inspecting Derek. “A true demon. An impressive catch for a little abomination such as yourself, eh, Addison?” The Mambo asked as she circled Derek. “Take him away, all of you, just to be safe…” She waved a hand to her five bodyguards.

 

The Mambo then approached Addison, making a sour face at the little vampire, turned rotted corpse, turned living doll. “Look at you. You look just like one of my dolls. For the demon, however, I suppose I could remove the hex. You have to give your word you will stop practicing voodoo in my district. I don’t want to see you in my territory at all. Deal?”

 

Addison looked up at her with her dead eyes. She tried to offer a smile through the yarn stitching of her face. Her eyes then moved to watch as the five bodyguards were escorting Derek away. He was cursing her, the bodyguards, the Mambo… but he kept coming back to Addison. Wow… was he mad. Oh, well.

 

The Mambo moved around Addison, moving to the outside tables gathering things, as well as collecting powders and other items and bringing them to the bonfire. She scooped some of the outside ash into a small jar and filled it with the other items she had collected. She then carefully held the jars bottom into some of the fires flames, watching the contents shrivel into a fine dust.

 

The Mambo pulled the jar to her and let the contents cool before opening the jar and walking around Addison in a circle, sweeping the fine dust all over her as she chanted. She stopped, looking at Addison. “Now, walk through the bonfire. You come out the other side; you’ll be back to your original state. A disgusting vampire.” She sneered.

 

Addison offered a nod, trying to remain humble looking. She did as told, walking through the flames of the bonfire. She had her doubts. She expected just to go up in flames. She didn’t, though. She shimmered rather, the dust catching into little sparks around her, her body transforming.

 

She stepped out of the flame, hole and back to herself. Even the various yarn stitching’s were gone.

 

From the other side of the bonfire, the Mambo look at her with a sneer. Addison smiled back, but it was deceptively wicked.

 

Addison raised a hand high and snapped her fingers. “DEREK, NOW!”

 

At the snap of her slender digits, the enchantment on Derek’s bindings fell away. He wasted no time in transforming into his rightful flesh and devouring the bodyguards in flame. He then stomped his way to Addison.

 

“You could have told me your plan to begin with.” He snarled at her, all sharp teeth and monstrous visage.

 

She shrugged, watching as the Mambo’s face was overcome with horror.

 

“It’s my turn now.” Addison said, moving to circle the bonfire. The Mambo tried to run, but Addison had left enough enchanted yarn where she had stood before to trip up the Mambo. The hefty woman fell in a heap.

 

Addison approached the plump black woman, moving to kneel at her side. “You know, what you did wasn’t really gracious. I mean, I know I’m not very nice, but I’m supposed to be a monster of sorts. You’re a human, and in my book, that makes you the worst kind of monster there is. You rejected my presence, cast a hex on me… for nothing more than my white skin being in a voodoo shop. Oh, and being a vampire. You do realize that humans kill more humans every year than all us ‘monsters’ combined?” She questioned to the woman.

 

She leaned into the woman’s neck. The Mambo struggle, praying and pleading. “I don’t want to die… please…”

 

Addison shook her head. “You won’t die. Not until I want you to.” With that said, she bit into the woman’s neck with her perfect little white fangs, drinking the woman’s blood. Not much, just enough to sate her hunger.

 

Derek watched all, curious as to what Addison was playing at.

 

Addison moved on the other woman, sitting on her chest and drawing a voodoo sigil around the woman’s head. She then reached for the discarded jar and set it on the woman’s forehead. She waved and weaved her hands in intricate designs in the air over the Mambos head, a white light shimmering around them before she finally got off the woman and let her skitter away.

 

“What did you do to me?” The Mambo asked, a hand clutching her wounded neck. “I feel… different. Please, what did you do?”

 

Addison grinned and tapped the jar, which she was now placing a cap on top. The jar held within it a small crystal that flickered with light from time to time, like a firefly.

 

“I’ve taken your soul. You won’t die until I want you to die. Do you realize what that means right? It means you have to take care of yourself now. I hope you learn to stop being a racist. If you’re going to be a hater, hate indiscriminately.” Addison chuckled. “Now, eat right, exercise and don’t let anything happen to that body because it won’t heal. I’ll be seeing you…” Addison winked, tucking the jar into the hoodie pocket and giving a waggle of her fingers before moving to Derek.

 

“Come on, big guy. I’m sorry for the deception earlier, but I wanted to be convincing.” She said to the demon, who was now moving to take his human form.

 

“It’s alright Addi. At least I am out of your debt. You know, we could make a good partnership.” He said, patting her shoulder as they walked out of the place and back out down the sidewalk.

 

Addison huffed. “Don’t push your luck.” She said though she did smile. “Thank you, for your help. I should head home.”

 

Derek gave a vigorous nod. “Yes, please do. Man, do you stink. Like, REALLY stink!”

 

Addison turned to him and glowered, but then moved to him, taking the man into a deep hug, leaving some of her stink all over him as he protested.

 

She then turned and scampered away into the night, snickering the whole time.

 


RP pt.4 A Walk Amongst the Dead

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This is a Role Play I am currently working on for the Bloodletting game. I play both characters involved. They have a love/hate relationship pretty much. If you are interested in seeing just what the Bloodletting RPG is all about, check it out at Bloodletting.org.  If you decide you want to sign up and feel like getting one of my characters a little bank for it, use the following li

(Addison) http://www.bloodletting.org/other_pages/registration.php?user=149254

(Genesis) http://www.bloodletting.org/other_pages/registration.php?user=151855

Keep in mind, Genesis is a Lycan, and Addison is a Slayer, though was a former vampire. She’s the weird one of the two.

 

Part 4:

Genesis:

Genesis frowned in Addison’s general direction. She was almost afraid to make too many movements on the platform. It was so unsteady. She took note of how Addison was keeping a distance between them to balance the weight out a little. She wouldn’t have thought Addison had that kind of logical thinking in her.

 

“There’s a window…a small one…way on the other side of the warehouse. It’s near the ceiling, probably just for a little ventilation. The problem, from what I can see, is that the entire wall over there is completely bare. Nothing for us to climb up on to get to the window and shimmy out. The other major problem is that the zombies seem to be coming from that direction, and there are a lot of them between us and that window.” She said, staring at the small window, then letting her eyes move to the zombies that clamored for her guts.

“There isn’t anything for us to push under the window that I can see for us to even reach that high. And there’s so many of these rotting things…” She then said, her tone exasperated.

The platform gave another shift, more pops and squeaks as things came undone. Genesis growled low in her throat, a snarl on her lips. “We can’t stay up here forever.” She ground out. “What I wouldn’t give for my handguns and rifle…” She sighed out softly, more to herself that to Addison.

She looked back to Addison, the wheels in her mind turning. There had to be a way to get through the mass of zombies. She could, in theory, and if the herd was thinned enough, shift to her Crinos form and boost Addison to the window. Her Crinos form was large. Large enough. However, could Addison in turn be able to pull her up in her Crinos form? And being left on the ground floor left her vulnerable to a zombie.

She sighed, looking down at the rotters again.

“Addison…what if we divided the herd? You know, you draw half to your side of the platform, and I can draw the other to my side of the platform. Maybe we can get them bunched up, leaving a near clear path, at least for a few seconds unless the faster ones catch on. We could sprint for the window, I can shift and lift you up, and then you drag me up?”

She eyed Addison as the woman seemed to think it over. Well, she thought Addison was thinking it over. It was hard to tell. Addison seemed to be looking elsewhere.

A sudden lurch made Genesis give a yelp, clutching the railing of the platform. She looked above to see the cables popping. One in particular looked as if it was going to give way any moment. Her eyes then traveled to the cause.

It is what seemed to be the center of attention for Addison. Zombies were moving at the broken metal stairs that led to the platform. Their weight was distressing it further.

There wasn’t too much they could do about either.

“Damn it all…”

Addison:

Addison listened to Genesis, understanding her completely, but was too fixated on the mass of dead things at the bottom of the broken stairs. The stairs held together by some of the same cables holding the platform up. She bit her lip, calculating different scenarios and moves, to see if it would be possible to take a few steps down, slice open some dead heads and get back to safety.

 

She was answer in a violent ‘no’ as the cables started giving way naturally under the added weight of those zombies actually smart enough to climb upward.

 

She had no choice but to inch her way back, closer to Genesis. Her best bet was to allow some of the zombies to share their space, as confined as it was, and dispatch of them. She could just let their bodies fall from the platform, alleviating the added weight.

 

The chink in her chain of thought was that the zombies were causing way too much movement on the fragile platform. It gave violent lurches, pops and pings as the suspension cables cried in protest.

 

She was nearly side by side with Genesis, giving the Lycan a despairing look. The platform shifted again.

 

The good news was that the zombies weight had broken the stairs off completely from the platform.

 

The bad news was that the sudden spring from the missing weight sent the platform rocking violently, one main cable snapping completely.

 

Addison fell across the railing, sheathing her sword quickly to gain a good handhold. It did no good, as the railing snapped, sending her falling down into the depths of the moaning, sticking mass of death.

 

She landed hard on her back, the air knocked from her lungs. She scrambled, however, to stand.

 

She came face to face with a zombie. It appeared to be female. A chunk of her cheek was gone, completely, exposing the teeth. Her nose had been bitten off and a mass of squirming, hungry maggots had taken up roost in each nasal cavity.

 

The dead thing opened and closed it mouth, moaning, its teeth snapping and clattering. Lawdy…the smell.

 

However, it made no move against Addison. She stood there, very still, wide eyed and staring into the rot and decay of this dead thing.

 

Her hand was on her sword, ready to pull it free.

 

None of the zombies were moving against her. They all clamored for Genesis, still clinging to the damaged platform. Their wiggling bodies clawing for the Lycan.

 

Addison blinked.

 

“What the fuck…”

 

This was definitely an advantage to be exploited. And yet, it raised about a million and one more questions about the situation the two crewmates had found themselves dumped in. There was no time to mull it over, however.

 

Addison unsheathed her sword and went on with attacking. She cleaved rotted skulls in two, sliced limbs from decayed bodies and took down as many of the dead things as she could. They still kept coming from the other side of the building though.

 

Her choices were few. But she had this weird advantage of seemingly being unappetizing to the dead things. She swathed a path through them, heading for the point of which they were flooding in.

 

She had found it. A large cargo door. There were all sorts of wires, very new looking, attached to it. It seemed to be releasing the zombies into the warehouse, probably from a freight truck, either by way of automatic timer or remote control.

 

She made short work of leaving those control wires in a heaping mess. The doors slammed shut, and wouldn’t be opened again. She took to one knee, resting for just a moment.

 

She turned back, however, to clear away more of the rotting husks. She could see Genesis clinging to the platform, staring wide eyed at her.

 

Addison took her sword and banged it against the metal door. The zombies, or at least some of them, turned their focus from Genesis to Addison herself. Or at least the noise she was making. The lumbered to her, making it easy to dispatch them.


Striving for a new goal

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The Horror Writers Association

I want to be a member of The Horror Writers Association something fierce. I have for some time now. However, being self-published does not qualify me for membership. I have to have something published and paid for (at least $25.00) or have won a cash prize and been published. The more the better.

So, since none of that has happened as of yet, I have hunted down some prize and publication paying competitions. Both will be VERY difficult.

The first and most pressing is a competition that costs $16.00 per entry, with a word limit of 6000. You all know writing short pieces are a challenge to me. ~headdesks~ The deadline for all entries is April 30th. I have skimmed through some of my ‘started and abandoned’ stories and found a couple that could possibly be expanded upon, or in some cases, edited, revised and shortened. I’d like to enter as many as possible.

The second is sort of weird. There are cash prizes and publication, but there isn’t like, a panel of judges. You may only make one entry, between 10k-40k word count. That’s not a big deal for me, I have two stories already that just need an unneeded paragraph or so deleted and some wordiness snipping. What makes this contest weird is that is determined by how many people download your story, which means you have to practically spam your story’s link everywhere as much as you can, get other people to spam it, and really work your ass off to get people to download the story, even if they don’t like the genre or want to read it. However, liking the genre and interest in the story is helpful, because I’m assuming there is a discussion forum for it as another part of ‘winning’ is the literary value, which the site does not state how that is determined. The deadline for that contest is June 4th.

I need something publish, even if its only a little winning, like the $25.00 minimum, to join the Horror Writers Association. Winning something more would be great, especially since you have to pay yearly dues to the Association.

The Horror Writers Association also holds their own contests for their writers, which again, I would love to be able to enter.

I could join as a ‘supporting non-professional writer’, but NO! I AM a professional. Or trying to be. ~whineswhineswhines~

So there you have it.

Camp NaNoWriMo is in April, with a 500 word count per day limit, so maybe I can flesh out some 6000 words or less stories and get them entered into the first competition, provided I have the $16.00 each entry fee’s. I have a few stories that are less than 1000 words, but to me, thats a little too short to be captivating for this competition. ~pouts~ But what do I know? 🙁

The Spotlights are pretty much on hold for a bit. No one has been wanting to step up for my little stage to be interviewed or showcase their work. If you DO happen to want to, then please email me…I will most definitely take the time to shine the lights on fellow authors AND bloggers. (zoeambler@zoeambler.com or zoe.ambler5@gmail.com – please place ‘Spotlight’ in the subject line)


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