“Okay Detective. I’ll let you know if I think of anything important. I really can’t get in trouble again, so let me know if anything changes please?” The boy shuffled, and did not maintain eye contact very well.
Officer Berry looked down at the 20-something boy. He’s lying. There’s more to this story than either one of them are telling me. “Alright. You stay fairly easy to contact.”
“Yes sir.” The boy chanced a sidelong glance at his desk, the drawer of which was packed full of various illegal things, and continued his prayers that the police officer would just hurry up and get the hell out of there. Continue reading
The two story Victorian stood atop a hill at the end of the peaceful, two mile gravel driveway. Cracked white paint coated it’s entirety and was stained and aged – a clear testament to it’s times. A small Honda Civic kicked up dust as it carried it’s driver and three passengers to the estate. They looked forward, the small seed of fear growing larger now that they could see the house. Continue reading
Hey Guys I wanted to write something small, modern day. I wanted to capture something primal. Something that a lot of people experience but don’t usually share. Blah, blah, blah. Here goes:
The atmosphere in the bathroom was heavy with the moisture from an earlier shower. The floor was moderately damp, a daily result of his careless drying habits. Dave hated how the bathroom retained moisture. Being so small, you had to leave the door open and the ventilation fan on for nearly an hour before everything dried out after a shower. Something about bathroom floor moisture on his bare feet had always bothered Dave. Continue reading
“Karma’s a Bitch, Ain’t It?”
Charles stared at his friend. He tried to act tough, attempted to hide his fear. His body betrayed him. He was being wracked with nervous spasms, and the spasms made the chains around his hands rattle and clink, drawing even more unwanted attention to his sporadic movements. The gag made breathing a chore. His best friend smiled.
“You shouldn’t have fucked me, Chuck. You did this.” Continue reading
Everything was spinning. Or perhaps I was spinning and everything else was perfectly still. My stomach disagreed with the situation. My eyes did too, I think, because blackening coils of tunnel vision started seeping into the corners of my vision. I didn’t worry, I had fought off the knock-out effect several times before. Sweat beaded up on my forehead, only to roll down and sting my eyes in waves. A nearby friend was talking in a deep, bass sounding language that I knew, but could not comprehend. For the briefest moment, colors had sound, and sounds had taste. Then the spinning started to slow. Continue reading
The following interview took place in Manhattan, New York. The date was January 3rd, 2011. Satan himself had contacted one enterprising young journalist. He wanted to provide an interview. The Devil wanted to clear a few things up.
The journalist, Timothy, is 25 years old and very open minded. He does not scare easily, but finds this situation to be mildly unsettling. He has no clue what to expect. He waits in the appointed hotel room, nervously tapping his ballpoint pen against his notepad. He fidgets, plays around with his smart phone, and waits. He hates waiting. Continue reading