What you are about to read is the cumulative effort of 14 talented writers, each bringing something different to this gathering, the styles and genres are in some cases very different, and yet together, we have brought you an entirely original and new tapestry of words. Each author’s words are unedited, and whole, as they were received and arranged with only a few words added to tie it all together by the coordinator of this endeavor. Thank you to Dave Webb, Dark One, of The Twisted Path Group, for the idea, and the effort in putting this piece together. And thank you to (In Alphabetical Order) Amber McCrea, Billy Crash of Crash Palace Productions, C. William Giles, author of …..Of Tortured Faustian Slumbers, Carolyn Graham, Diana Evans, Desiree’ Nelson, Eveline Hood, Melissa Hoskins, Michael Lawrence, R.M. Duchene, Siara Tyr, and Shelly Philemon for your help in bringing this to fruition. Dear Readers, I give you A Sweet Deal…..
It was that time that time again not knowing what to do keeping me from him I had to I must tell you some if not all what happen on that night I know that many of there will be waiting to see her naked and full of lust to be beaten and took beyond all but no not this time. I can hear him. I know he’s still here, scurrying out of sight just as I enter the room. Just like the rat he is, and I hate rats. I think I need to find him, before he gets brave. Now, where is my knife?
She watched him take off his shoes, hatred filled her heart. Why was he so cruel? Why did she put up with his constant ridicule? Visions filled her head. The knife plunged into his eye, releasing the fluids that lay inside looked over him seeing him there not moving did I kill him? I stood no longer able to move I start to shake what has happen what have I done I go into some kind of dream some strange world where I am Here I stand. Alone on the precipice. Looking out into the never. How many times have I stood looking at the Universe planning a suicidal plunge into another battle with forces I don’t comprehend? Math isn’t my strong suit so I table the thought for later. If there’s to be a later. What the fuck what gone on.
My eyes open and through the haze I notice that I’m in a room that seems clinically sterile. The smell of disinfectant fills my nostrils, almost sickening in its strength and potency. I look down at myself to see the stark contrast of my own clothes, covered in grime and filth, dried blood appears to be staining my shirt and jeans, where the fuck am I?
That thought stays with me and screams in my head as I feel the restraints holding my arms to the chair in which I sit, however, the alarm bells increase tenfold as I see with chilling clarity the metal table a couple of feet away, on top of it lies a dozen or more surgical instruments. I admit my heart starts to race, my lower lip and chin quiver as scenarios build in my mind. The silence is deafening but sadly it ends all too soon as a door opens behind me and footsteps approach……..
He stood there and looked without saying a word just moving about then he looked over and said “With my tongue, I will write upon your skin all the words I cannot speak”.
She looked at him as He took her face in his hands, and kissed her like she was a drink of cold water on the hottest day, and he was not quenched by her lips but burned alive by them. This took him beyond all and back to the dream he as on almost daily basics it begins with I love the sound of the waves beating against the rocks, especially at night when it is less distorted by the unwanted images that day brings. I sit close to the drop-off, close my eyes, and imagine the waves breaking, spraying their droplets into the sea air. What I imagine is so much more vivid than what the day’s reality could ever show me. I see the waves pushing her bloated body against the rocks, slamming it hard enough to break something inside, then pull it back out again, only to push it back harder than before. I imagine her screams, her thrashing, and then the stillness of her limbs as the waves carry her in and out, in and out. I feel the familiar smile on my face. Once a month I return here – I return here and kill her again, over and over. I’ve killed her fifteen times so far and each time is better than the last. As always, her call interrupts me. I tell her that I love her, that I’ll be home soon. Before I leave, I kill her again, and then once more. He returns his mind back to room and continue to walk up and down. She looked at him with hate as and knew what her next move would be as she spent her life giving him everything he wanted, regardless of her suffering. She lost her friends and family, her job, health, life, and sanity. Still he wanted more, dragging her violently to their bedroom, as he had every night for ten years. She had prepared for this moment for months, plotting and planning her every move. Ten years ago he was the love of her life, the most important person in her world; tonight, he is nothing more than a stain in her bedroom carpet.
She knew that she had to go but was lost in what happen. The dawn broke not gently but with the blazing rage of one freshly awoken into a new world, shattering the darkness and filling it with light she had done it even through her head spinning in what happen or not was this a dream as the light came through the bathroom window and fell on the girl’s sad reflection in the mirror. In half-shadow, she wondered how she could be so depressed all the time, especially when she had a penthouse apartment and a bottomless bank account. Her reflection didn’t understand either, and in a blast of glass the image escaped from the mirror, and pressed its thumbs through the girl’s throat. When no air remained in the body of the sad girl, the new image walked across shards of glass with a smile, then left the room. As she run out leaving all behind she could feel many people around her there.
The looks of empathy from strangers always brought sadness.
Could they possibly know what’s been endured?
And if not, why did their gazes seem as if they did?
There must be a way to stop it, to change it all.
A change is what I did and for the better I meet someone new so much more loving, someone that I knew I could trust this time but it was hard at first still having him deep in my mind. My dreams strange and bizarre not making any since I would dream of a cool spring night , a full moon rising, a hot summers night, the dead coming to life, a plaque taking over what the fuck was going on in my mind was i losing it at times but i found a way to control this well i sort i did but I can still taste the freshness of your blood swimming in my mouth My tongue finding every little drop in each crevice It is a memory that I can no longer block out You saw me for who I really was Your fate was sealed
But my new love knew this and was fully with me at all times.
I lay waiting, longing for you as you sleep, your smooth skin glistening in the moonlight. I reach for you, strumming my fingers along your thighs, waking you with an inviting smile. You press your sensuous lips to mine, as you pull me closer, undressing me ever so slowly. Your strong arms protecting, your hands firmly caressing my body as you swiftly take me, fulfilling my deepest desires. So sensual, our bodies dripping, moving in sync, reaching our climax together. Our bodies spent, your hands holding mine, while I rest upon your beating heart. The blood drew fine lines on his flesh, meandering rivets of crimson jewellery that made him seem a strange and new species of striped cat, the way he snarled and jolted with each cut. The passion we had was electric and so much more then I ever had with anyone that it bought me to write and this love is for you.
I’ll meet you in the usual places.
Darkened doorways or shadowed corners.
The aches of longing quenched.
In the warm wet hideaways.
Straining to reach paradise.
Our skin’s Intimate sheen.
Alight with human castings.
Bloody and beautiful.
Fire burning brightly in the cold dark night.