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Vengeance Part 2 – An Action Adventure

Audiobook version

(NSFW!)

Part three is coming next week!

I stand inches from the yellow line, my arms to the side with my eyes pressed shut. The blending of music, voices, and people around me slowly filter out as I concentrate. The cool air gently tosses my hair to the side and the wind caresses my neck. It is the only thing I keep exposed for the air to reach. The familiar rumble echoes and the wind drives itself forward. I breathe in as the rush of wind slaps my face. A fraction of a second passes and I feel the large body of the train scream past. I thrust open my eyes as the blurs of images flood my vision little flashes of the people sitting inside on the train. I can catch people throwing glances here and there on the platform, hesitant to get near me but I stare forward and keep to myself. The screech erupts and the train comes to a halt. Two years. It had been an entire two years since I left the burning remains of my life behind. The crumpled paper stays in my wallet with the neatly typed address. I have not forgotten what I need to do I rode to our home a while ago just to make sure it had been real. Every bit of it was, only now there was a new family living in our home. The scar, one of the few reminders of our growing child, has almost completely disappeared. All that’s left of it is a thread-sized mark across my gut. The doors open to the train, and I step on and sit in the seat closest to the doors.

A man coughs a few seats down and I glance over. I have seen him a handful of times over the last few months always on the J, always at the Broadway junction. It seems like it has been getting more frequent lately. He is an odd sort keeps to himself. I follow him from time to time to make sure he is no one to be concerned over. He is two blocks east of me and lives above a local coffee shop off Bedford. He’s tall, attractive, around his early thirties with dark hair. I never trust anyone and I don’t keep friends. It was my one rule. But over the past several months, I feel as if we share a life. It is sick way to think, but I find myself drawn to him. Each day, he goes through the routine of running before 6 a.m. I follow, but carefully so he does not notice me. I guess I use him as a testament to my own shadowing skills. That isn’t true, and I know it, but it’s what I’m comfortable admitting to myself. On Wednesday nights he volunteers with kids to teach them hockey, and on Thursdays, he plays with a small team himself. He is a simple man, I like that. Always walks to the local bars on Friday or Saturday, and the movies on Sunday. Somehow I feel comfortable watching someone else live normally. A guilty pleasure I really shouldn’t take time out of my training to do.

My apartment isn’t much. It’s a small loft on the west side of Brooklyn, but I keep it clean. Workouts are every single day. I do cardio and core daily, no excuses, and weight training four times a week alternating legs and arms. Three of those days are dedicated to Krav Maga and Jiu-jitsu. It is not cheap. However, money is of no concern. I am taken care of by the Demon’s contract. But appearances are important, so I work at the corner store a few times a week. The owner hired me based off of looks that much I knew. It’s simple. I tell him I moved here after my family died. I didn’t tell him how, or why. But Don doesn’t care, as long as I get the work done and I don’t complain about the pay it’s a perfect employee and employer understanding.

At first, I wasn’t sure how it all worked. How was I going to get my revenge if I didn’t have the slightest clue on how to defend myself? How would I survive? Sure, there was life insurance from Tristan but I couldn’t take that. The second I did, they would all know where I am. I’m not an idiot, and quite sure they kept tabs on me when I was in the hospital. Now that I went missing, I’m sure Ty ramped up his security. Of course, that had happened almost two years ago. My hope is that Ty has assumed I fled for my life. I’m hoping that his arrogance will blind him to my arrival. I slip my hand beneath my coat and finger the gun. I have to go through a great deal to keep them hidden, my frame is lithe.

Marcy Avenue,” the conductor says briefly. Startled I look up, not realizing I have already gone through eight stops. I stand as the train jerked hard to a full stop, noticing a few people stumble that isn’t holding on well. I crack a smile, remembering that’s how it was the first few times for me before I got a feel for them. It disappears when I notice that the guy has drawn his attention to me. He isn’t hiding the fact that he’s staring. The doors open on our stop and he stands. I quickly step out onto the platform.

Hey.” I pretend I don’t hear him as I hurry through the door that leads out onto the street. I get all the way to the light when I feel a hand on my shoulder. Shit. I spin around and look up at him. He’s a tall fucker. I guess I never realized it staying at more of a distance. He’s at least 6’3” probably closer to 6’4”. I bristle, waiting for the inevitable questions and glancing around to see my escape options. I should have bolted.

Hey, hold up. You in some kind of a rush?” Ok. Well, didn’t expect that one. Not, ‘why are you following me? Or─ ‘why are you being a weirdo?’ His voice is nice, pleasant. He is obviously native to New York, but it isn’t a thick accent.

I feign surprise and raise my voice an octave. “I’m sorry?” I say. He releases his grip from my shoulder immediately and brings it up to behind his head. He almost looks embarrassed. I relax a little, seeing that his demeanor has changed. “Sorry,” he mutters, looking at the ground. “Didn’t mean to grab you like that. You dropped your wallet.” I look down at the thin black leather in his hand and reach my hand out. “Oh, thanks. It must have fallen out of my pocket.” He hands it to me and I turn to leave. “Near the corner store, right?” I turn toward him. “What?” I ask. “You live about three blocks west of the Jewish community.” I level my gaze and keep my voice pleasant. “Yeah, you nearby?” He seems really awkward but sure of himself at the same time. My initial assessment wasn’t far off. “Yeah, seen you around. You work at the corner store, yeah? I walk over there a few times a week with the guys.” I know, I think to myself, I’ve seen you and thought I hid well. He must have caught me on a night off walking home.

Damn it, I’m slipping. “Oh, yeah, yeah” I chuckle nervously to sound relieved, “yeah, I moved here not that long ago. Still getting used to everything.” His eyes are soft, a nice brown. His shoulders are finally relaxing. I must have set him on edge earlier when I spun around. My eyes quickly flick to his pants and shirt, nothing hidden doesn’t seem to be a threat. “Hey, you you take care of yourself out here. It’s no place for a lady to walk alone at night.” My mouth involuntarily twitches upward into a half smile. If only you knew how backward that is. I’m who other people have to worry about. But, some time ago he would have been dead-on. “I’m alright,” I offer, “it’s a quiet place, nicer than some places I’ve lived.” His head cocks a little and he smiles, “yeah, it’s a step up for me too. You got someone to walk you home?” I knew what he was asking. It was a way to ask if I was seeing anyone. Don’t do it, moron. You can’t get involved. “No, just me.” Shit. What the hell was that? Why did I just say that? And then I felt it. Don’t you fucking “You?” and I say it. I just asked it. He laughs. “Walk me home? Ha. Not since I was a kid. I can take care of myself.” No, you can’t, I think, no one can. Especially from people like Ty or Daemon.

I suddenly feel incredibly guilty. What is this? Your family dies two years ago and you’re already looking at some guy? I explore my feelings. And realize something. I can’t feel it. I can’t even hardly remember my boy’s face. I’m starting to panic. Blonde, his hair was blonde. Tristan, my husband, his eyes were brown. Yes. Brown like this man. Soft and hardened at the same time. Hardened from years of war in Afghanistan. He’d only been out for a few years. Our child was hung after beaten to death from our porch. The porch that our families built. And my belly holds the faint scars of my unborn son. I feel the switch instantly. Harden the fuck up this isn’t why you’re here. He senses the shift and inclines his head, “hey, you good?” I glance up at him and nod, “yeah, I’m good. You take care of yourself.” I don’t give him a chance to respond before heading down the south alley that will take me directly to my place.

I kick myself mentally. That was fucking stupid. Why did I talk to him? I don’t know shit about that asshole. He could be part of it for all I know. I relent as I take a right down toward the west side. I needed to make a stop. You’ve been watching him for months, there’s no way he’s with them. Or maybe that’s what he was put here for. Who the fuck notices me? I always keep to myself, was damn good at it. It was amazing how much I’d changed in just two years. I would have never thought this way or spoke half as crude, but funny thing death changes people. I wasn’t even sure that I was completely alive, it’s not like I needed air to breathe. It got me curious, I often wonder if I even bleed anymore. I should check that out at some point. I make a note to myself to stop being a moron and steer clear of whoever this new guy is. Time doesn’t matter. Your life ended at gunpoint two years ago, and those same pieces of shit practically ran half of the country. Where was their payment for their crimes where was my justice? I don’t give a shit how pointless it is or what it mattered, but somehow I would win. After all, I’m the one with unlimited time on my side.

– –

Shit. 20 feet. I dodge him and duck into the corner as I watch him look around the train. I was going to be late for my shift, but I can’t chance another interaction with him. He has some sort of weird effect on me and I can’t have that. I sigh as I watch the train pull away and casually walk over to a bench. I’ll just park my ass here until the 7:10 shows. I’ll need to stay near, but not too close. I aimed to find out more about my gentleman caller before making a real choice. Whoa. Choice? A choice about what, exactly? I jumped on the eastbound train toward Brooklyn, trying to shake the thoughts. Forget about the John, Viv. He’s just some rando. Yeah, but a damn good looking one. When was the last time you let a man touch you? Damn it brain whose side are you on, anyway? Jesus, I fight and gain traction, maybe hobo Frank could tell me more about Lily. I’d just visited this morning to check in on Lily, see how she was doing. All was good, thank god. F was one of the few people I felt I could trust. I’d followed him for weeks, several days a week. His routine was always the same, wake up from the alley, work some labor jobs and then head ‘home’. He was old, maybe in his late sixties with a limp. I never saw any track marks, but I did see him drink a little too much for his own good. His liver was probably shot. Then again, he didn’t have much else going on. I don’t blame him. My moving here isn’t entirely a retreat. I have my motives. I was told that I could never talk to anyone that knew me, but that didn’t mean that I couldn’t check in from time to time and see how she is doing. Lily had moved here after my ‘death’ and her final graduation. A doctorate. God, I am so proud of her. She never stops moving. Needless to say Frank was more than happy to offer his help when I offered him a working man’s salary to keep tabs on her. Maybe both our luck would change for once, poor bastard. I switch over to the other train, keeping my head down. No sense in drawing any more attention from people, it was best this way.

The subway was busier than usual today normally it died down after 9:30. I hear mumbling and catch a more interesting bit from two guys, “you hear about the company this morning?” His voice was higher pitched and slightly grating in a nasally way. His friend looks over at him, his voice is rich and low with a thick northeastern accent, “What, the new CEO?” the other one chimes in, overlapping “yeah, yeah that but about how he got it?” I keep a casual pace behind them, listening in. “What about it? So, Ty took over, and China has cheap goods, what else is new?” Nasally guy sighs, “yeah, that part but they just released it online less than a few minutes ago.” Rumbles sounds indignant, “well, you going to keep me on pins and needles or what?” Nasally chuckles and leans in, “word is that Daemon was offed.” I struggle to steady my breathing and try and keep my casual pace. The two stop in front of me and I slow my steps as I walk past to sit on the bench. Rumbles lowers his voice, I have to strain but make it out, “yeah? Means there’ll be a spot open” he says. His meaty head is working. I can hear the greed from ten feet away. Nasally sounds guarded, “Well, yeah I guess. But, it will go to whoever’s next in line. You know that.” Rumbles doesn’t bother to hide his next sentence and I get up as I see my train arriving, “Seems things might be changing. Who knows?” I grab my phone pose, and pretend to take a few selfies. Then quickly run to the train before it takes off.

Hopefully, I managed at least one face shot before leaving. I couldn’t believe my luck. Ty’s guys, right here. Then my heart drops. If they are here, does Ty know? Shit, shit, shit. Ok, calm down. Maybe it was just a coincidence. He couldn’t possibly know where I am. I wasn’t on social media at all. I didn’t even allow Don to snap pics of me at work. Could they possibly know where I am? Then my mind shoots to Lily. Could Ty finally be making good on his promise? The first six months had been hell, constantly watching her or paying hobo Frank to snap photos and send them to me. I chuckle to myself. I really should call him something else, he’s since gotten himself a decent apartment and a cat. Guy had really turned himself around and started painting real beautiful stuff, mostly portraits or cityscapes. Still drank too much, but hell at least he had a roof over his head. After a year I started thinking Ty just mentioned Lily to mess with me. Even now, two years later I still call or have F go by her place a few times a month to check on her. I need to find Ty, this was my chance. I go through my phone’s gallery, my hands are shaking and so cold the touch screen is delayed in reacting but I finally get it to open. The first picture is nothing but blurry and a disappointment, I panic as I flip to the next and it’s just a picture of me and the ceiling. Great shot of your nose hairs, dip shit. I hope to hell that I was able to at least get one, just one even if it was blurry. The next one is me smiling and a person walking behind me, shielding the two. I’m flipping through furiously, hoping that the quick snap function had taken more than I anticipated. Thank god for shortcuts. I’m about to give up and then freeze. There. There they are. I tap the screen and zoom in on their faces. They were exactly like their voices sounded. Rumbles is broad and heavy set. His eyes are hard to make out, but even from the photo, I can see that they are a smidge too close together. His nose was broad and crooked it had definitely been broken before. I close my eyes, trying to recall everything in the limited time that I had. What was that smell? Her grandfather had worn the same scent, my eyes flash open. Drakkar. I’d know it anywhere. That was rare is it still being sold these days? It wasn’t just Drakkar it was something else. Something very familiar. And then it came to me. I didn’t want it to, because along with it came hurt. Gunpowder. Not just gunpowder, but the stench of flesh and gunpowder. Rumbles had killed someone that morning. I was up close and personal with that scent, twice. How had the nasally guy not smelled it? Maybe this was another one of my abilities, I reason. It could be possible, after all, it’s not like I’m completely aware of everything that I can do. Focus, girl. What else? My eyes flick over to nasally. He’s taller than rumbles, by at least a foot. He’s thin but solid. He’d be handsome if it weren’t for his odd weak chin and slightly too large nose. Still, he had an odd sense of charm about him. I have a feeling nasally doesn’t struggle with the ladies. I squint as the picture starts to blur at my zooming in. It’s hard to tell what color his eyes are, but they look dark. Possibly brown. Both were fair skinned, but rumbles was a little more on the ruddy skin tone and flushed. Nasally looked more olive and smooth. I save the picture and delete the rest. I smile as the train grinds to a halt a lead, a real, solid lead. This was more than I hoped for, it was proof that not only was Ty still around, he was close.

– – –

“You’re late,” Don complains. I wince and look up at him. “I know, Don, I’m sorry. Missed the train this morning and had to catch the 7:10.” He grunts and points to the back, “yeah, whatever just go get your apron.” I sigh and hurry to the back. I was shocked that he didn’t ask why I was even on the train. I lived less than a few blocks away. “You’re a good girl, never late. Just, don’t let it happen again, eh?” he calls back to me. “Why are you still here?” I yell, “go home to Bev, she’ll be worried.” I can hear his smile as I pull the apron over my head. “Ha. You’re right about that. Got hell to pay when I get home, haven’t gotten a single call or text in hours. Not like her,” he pauses, “unless she’s angry.” My smile drops and I walk out to join him behind the register. “Hey, you should call her,” I say. He shakes his head and laughs, “nothing to worry about. That’s just Bev, ya know? Best I just come home and explain what happened.” I smile and chuckle nervously. “Alright,” I say. He grabs his keys and heads for the door. Something doesn’t feel right. “Don.” He pauses and looks over at me, “Yeah?” “It’s probably nothing, but, just let me know you made it and everything’s alright with Bev.” He shakes his head, “You women, you all worry too much.” He sighs and waves his hands when I scowl at him. “Alright, alright. Che-zus, between you and the old lady I feel like I’m on prison watch.” I smile as he mutters to himself and walks outside. I look up when the doorbell goes off again. “Oh, and Cheryl?” I winced inwardly at the fake name. I really hated deceiving the old man but had to do what was needed. Vivian wasn’t as common as it used to be, was kind of old school. “Yeah?” I ask. “Feel free to eat whatever you want. You’re looking a little thin.” He walks out and then leans back in again, the door held open by his food. “Oh and uh, if no one comes in after ten, just shut down.” I grin and shoo him out, “Yes, yes. Now go! I’ve kept you long enough.” He grunts and walks out. I’m really getting fond of that old coot. I look at my reflection from the mirror behind the register. It’s pretty skewed, but even from this angle, I can tell I’ve lost weight. When was the last time I had eaten? I guess even the dead need food.

– –

I frown as I turn the key, and then jiggle the door to make sure it is secure. I pull out my phone and stare at the empty screen. Not a word from Don all day. Maybe I should run by his place, make sure he’s alright. The trains wouldn’t be running this late, I’d have to Uber or get a taxi. I start to open my app when a police cruiser pulls up to the sidewalk. I look up as he rolls down his window. “You Cheryl?” I nod my head, “Yes sir. What’s going on?” The cop kills the engine and opens his door. He’s tall, it takes him a second to get out. I take the opportunity and glance up and down the street. Not a soul in sight. Could this be one of Ty’s men? I tense, preparing for the worst. He leans on his car and looks at me. “Kind of late to be closing up shop, isn’t it?” I smile and walk toward the car, “Actually, it’s early. Don likes to keep the place open for a few─” I freeze mid-sentence. It’s him. Of all the stupid why had I not followed him to work? You goddamn moron. I’m hung on that last sentence, staring across at this familiar stranger. He smiles and scratches the back of his head. It is the same awkward motion I saw the other morning. “Hey,” he says shyly, “sorry to catch you at a weird time. I, uh, I was actually patrolling the area when dispatch called to come talk with you.” I didn’t buy it, not completely. Was this a trick? Somehow a way for Ty to make me think this guy is my friend? Maybe they have found me out. Shit. I try not to show my panic as I hedge closer to the building. “Oh, yeah, yeah. Hey,” I say and laugh, “sorry, hard to see in this light.” He smiles and looks up and down the street. “Hey, uh, sorry to come at you with this but we got a call today from Don’s wife, Beverly. You know her?” “Yeah, Bev? I’ve known her for almost two years now. What’s this about?” I ask. He can’t seem to meet my eyes, and I know. The worst is coming. “Don didn’t make it home today.” The keys drop from my hand. My hands shoot up to my face and over my mouth. I’m thankful for the dark. He would think it odd that I am unable to shed a tear. A side effect of being dead, I have gathered. He hesitates and then continues, “Listen, Bev’s in a bad state. The only reason I’m here is she can’t tell you herself.” My head shakes back and forth. It’s odd pretending to be so upset. After my death, I’m not able to feel as strongly as I used to. It isn’t entirely faked, Don was a real stand-up guy and Bev was one of the sweetest women that I knew. I cringe, realizing that I’m already thinking of them in the past tense.

Despite their ten year age difference, the two of them seemed exactly the same age and always so giving never asking too many questions. I’m going to miss them both. I know the truth, neither one of them will make it.

It’s a sobering moment. There was more than likely only one reason why they were attacked. Ty’s men were very thorough. Question is who told them? The guys from the train hell, maybe even this guy. Not like I knew everything about him. Stupid girl, letting your emotions blind you. I stare at him openly as I pretend to take deep breaths. Finally, I ask, “Where’s Bev? Anyone there for her right now?” He stares back, his eyes trailing down to my lips. He’s not portraying the typical movements of someone like Ty, he almost looks oh shit. He finds me attractive right now. Especially since I’m vulnerable, I know that look anywhere. It was the same look Tristan gave me on our third date. I’d fallen down in the ice rink and managed to bust open my lip. He had helped me through the whole thing, even asked the guys for the first aid kit. The soft browns that looked at me as they patched me up, were the exact same as the ones looking at me now. Honest concerned. This man is not one of his lackey’s. I could sense it, almost like a human lie detector. It was something that I picked up after I died. He isn’t sweating or twitching, and there are no overly-controlled movements. He clears his throat, “uh, Bev is at Saint Luke’s.” “Saint Luke’s? But Bev and Don live in─” “Brooklyn, yeah I know,” he says, “Bev was out shopping in Manhattan this morning.” That doesn’t seem like her at all, especially on Don’s salary. Bev was always extremely cautious with their money, especially since they were a few years away from retiring. Now I know something’s wrong.

He notices I’m thinking. “You know, I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something different about you.” I look up at him, his statement catching me off-guard. I don’t answer for a while, instead turning my gaze to the sidewalk behind him. The street is still oddly quiet, even for a weekday. Maybe the world knew something that I didn’t, some unknown force keeping people locked up in their homes safe and warm. I look back at him and smile, “you think you can give me a ride to Saint Luke’s?” He mirrors my smile and walks over to open the door, “Yeah sure, my shift ended an hour ago. I’ll call it in.”

– – –

You want some coffee?” he asks as we sit waiting. The drive hadn’t been too bad, we’d mostly talked about how funny Don was, or how doting Bev could be. I knew that a lot of regulars came into the store, but I never realized how many people knew them. I didn’t call out the cop on his discrepancy earlier. He mentioned his shift was up, but that dispatch had called him in. So, he’d done it on his time off. There was definitely more to this. “No, I’m good. Thanks, Logan.” I say as he gets up. I’d only just learned his name─ it was a bit awkward saying it. I hated to admit this but it felt good talking to someone about anything. Intensive care─ I knew that it would be bad. I’m honestly surprised that Bev is still alive. Not Ty’s usual MO.

In other news, NC Global said goodbye to a long-time partner today. Founder and CEO Robert Daemon, who was tragically murdered last week in his summer home in Malibu, was finally laid to rest this morning next to his father in Sacred Heart. There are no confirmations on who will be taking his place, as this is an emotional time for everyone that knew Robert and worked alongside him.

The screen switches to people talking about how giving Daemon was, and a few statements from the police. I’m about to look away when he appears on the screen. I stand, walking over to the screen. That same goddamned sneer is stuck on his face. Most people looking at him would have seen someone that sounded sincere and professional, profusely vomiting up lies like it was the truth. I feel my body shudder and burn hot with rage. I’m instantly back at the construction site and he’s hovering over me placing my hair in his mouth and swirling it like a fine wine, the gun pressed to my skull, my entire life over in seconds and the piece of shit had the nerve to just go on living. How many men have you murdered? How many lives have you destroyed? I grab the screen, my fingers digging in and bending the metal on the sides. I hear a few gasps and freeze as a pair of hands wrap my body from behind.

Whoa, whoa. Cheryl, what the hell is going on?” I relax at the voice, it’s Logan. The metal crunches as I let it go and turn toward the waiting area. The entire room is silent as it stares at me. Even the children have quieted. I have to get out and before I know what’s happening, my feet have found the pavement outside and I’m running at full speed.

Shit.

What did I do? What did I fucking do? My mind is racing faster than my legs as I jet east toward the Brooklyn Bridge. Why did I go to visit her? If it is Ty, they would have planted someone there after all this time, all of my hard work and training gone in seconds. Think, I scream at myself, was there any familiar face? My mind goes back to the flash of people’s faces staring wide-eyed at me. Look for something anything. I cross the bridge and turn slightly more South and then East on Fulton. I focus all my energy trying to remember any one person looking different in the emergency room. On the right, there was a family a young girl with her brother next to the toy station, their mother and grandparents all surprised. The middle, there is a teenage girl, her face busted up, her phone dropping to the ground, in the back I remember an elderly woman, a napkin wrapped over her mouth that’s been stained with a dark liquid, probably coffee. No, I yell internally, not it. Then my mind dredges up what I’ve feared the most. There he is Nasally. He’s staring at me, not with surprise but curiosity. He is wearing a jacket, his dark hair matted on one side with blood, his fingers clasped around a phone that he’s holding up. I halt as I finally turn down Bedford and reach the corner store. He was filming me. It is over, Ty knows.

 

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Why I’m no longer on Twitch and other updates

So, most of you by now have realized that I am no longer on Twitch. I started off Tuesday – Sunday 8 hours a day, then that switched to 6 hours a day until ultimately I stopped streaming. It wasn’t something that came easy, I was conflicted over it for a while.

Until the first week went by.

And then the second, and third.

I was noticing significant changes in my life. For the 8 months I streamed, I never really realized how much it affected me. I was becoming impatient, moody, and constantly irritable.

I’m naturally quiet, having to talk and be entertaining for 6-8 hours a day 6 days a week was insane. I am certainly not built for this silly inane chatter that is apparently entertaining to people.

The only saving grace is the people that visit your channel. The ones that sit and chat with you every day and support you. It becomes a lovely comfort to the savage, undercutting behavior that is other streamers. I mean every word of that, and I will have the grace to not mention names of said individuals out of respect for their profession. Yes, even the nice ones. They are businessmen/women and you are a tool for them to use to inflate their own numbers.

This, also depressed me. Realizing the artificial nature of people’s seemingly ‘nice’ behavior.

The biggest issue for me was I felt that I was underutilizing my brain. Sitting there for hours on end, not learning anything or accomplishing anything and having people give me money for sitting there, talking to a computer screen.  Granted, there are people watching─ but not really. This depressed me further still. I was background noise to someone at work. This is how Twitch and live shows work. But, the fact that it’s background noise wasn’t a huge issue at the same time that it was. I realized I am broadcasting during someone’s workday, it’s to be expected.

Then there was the inevitable issue with me being female. (I know, I sighed openly too. I hate typing that sort of shit) It’s the same struggle that I have to deal with as a creator and writer. People would come into my channel and want to chat, but they didn’t ask me questions about the game, or game mechanics─ they asked me over-simplified questions about how I was enjoying it. Even when I went into detail about guns, elements, trap designs, game mechanics─ I wasn’t engaged until I was being a stupid person making dumb comments about random shit. Which again, in a nutshell, is what people want on Twitch. Average viewer age on my channel was somewhere between 12 – 23 until after 6 p.m. Again, normal but awful, and something I didn’t enjoy.

I’m a researcher, a writer, and a scientist. I don’t want to be viewed as some cam girl begging for money to play video games. Because, let’s be honest, that’s what 90% of the damn women do in that community.

I left for quite some time to get my head straight. This wasn’t what I wanted to do. I enjoyed writing, researching, creating shows and podcasts and audiobooks. I love games, but it’s a sacred time for me. A time to relax and really enjoy the game. Doing this every day was just leaving a bitter taste in my mouth to the entire thing. Then, there’s the overwhelming issue of everything you are expected to do as a streamer. It. was. ridiculous. and I constantly felt overwhelmed. I had so much to do each day before I streamed, constant things I had to read about the community, OBS, video editing, bots on bots on bots, use THIS music, no no use THAT music program, it’s better. Constant bickering and fighting in my channel, several unwanted comments, and private messages─ It was a mess.

And I will never, ever, go back to that again.

What I will go back to, is doing the things that make me excited and happy to be alive. No matter who or what is watching. I love to write, I love learning, and mostly─ I like doing it on my own time.

What you will see is my YouTube channel flourish with specials, new audio stories, books, short stories, and podcasts. I’m not gone, I’m just in a happier place.

(p.s. Vengeance is 3/5 completed, you’ll have the ending soon! Oh, and a collection of short stories available on Amazon soon. :3)

─ Grey ❤

 

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Vengeance – Part 1 – An Action Adventure

Audiobook Version

(Warning! NSFW)

Gone. Before my eyes the world I knew swept from me in a tide of flame─ never-ending, and twisting to the sky. The barrel of the gun is pressed to the back of my skull. I’m on my knees like a dog, bound to a large steel frame─ part of an unfinished house next to ours. I watch silently, my voice gone from screaming. I squeeze my eyes shut─ God make it stop. I knew the answer to my silent plea. Prayer was for children and fairy tales. We had moved here to start a new life. The whole area had been part of a revamp project to help inner-city families. We’d moved into the first house built on a street called hope. Hope. How ironic. The now glowing embers and faint silhouettes are all that stands of our sanctuary. My eyes wander to their faces. I know I shouldn’t, but force myself to look. They hang from the porch, as if swinging from the gallows. My husband for the first time looks like a sleeping child. The half of his face that is left is serene─ the other half is a pulpy mass. They didn’t waste time on him.

I then look to my son and gag, wanting to purge the image from my mind. The whites of his eyes shine through the quieted flame, like the walking dead he floats and his little face is frozen in anguish. He is still wearing what he wore to bed─ his iron man socks and underwear. They didn’t even have the decency to dress him. His body is so terribly beaten that the color of his flesh is purple. I want to cry, but nothing comes out. There’s a fluttering response in my belly─ almost as if my unborn son knows his fate. I wish I could offer some comfort. I hope that they will end us both soon. Laughter sounds, silencing my thoughts. The barrel nudges me from behind, a gentle reminder of my position. There is a slight movement to my right, crunching gravel and the surrounding laughter ceases. 

You’ve been a bad girl, my dear,” the voice calls. It’s the kind of voice that creeps along your spine with all the eloquence of a black widow. Vertebrae by vertebrae it prods gently─ waiting for the right bit of flesh to sink its fangs into. From the shadows steps a man dressed in the finest suit I’d ever seen─ it’s perfectly tailored for his body. He is tall and solid, the kind of man you avoid on the street. It’s something in the way he holds himself, he doesn’t need to look intimidating─ he just is. Suit’s fedora is placed just so that I can’t get a decent look at him. I don’t need to, I know who he is. Daemon’s right-hand man, Ty. I’ll never call him this− it would somehow make him human. He doesn’t deserve that. To me, he’s just Suit. My eyes search the group as I memorize each of their faces. Finally, they stop on the Suit. 

He sneers, “What, nothing to say for once sweetheart?” He pauses and looks around, chuckling with his filthy hyenas. Sauntering up, he steps behind me. I feel the gun removed from my head. There’s a crunching noise before the heel of his foot is put in its place. “Come on, there must be something,” he quips, digging his foot into my skull. I stare at the ground, mute. He sighs, retracts his foot and then brings it down hard on my head─ a grunt of satisfaction leaving his lips. I wait for the next one, but it doesn’t come. He’s pausing─ for what I don’t know. I wait and begin to fidget. Surely there is more. Then I feel the binds fall to the ground. I jolt forward, but someone slams me back into place. A tunnel of black clouds my vision, but I fight hard and remain conscious. It’s a small victory at least. He grabs both my hands and ties them over my head. I swallow thickly, the worst is coming. His hands brush against mine and trail along my left arm down to my chest. Suit’s hands hover just above my breast. Then he moves it over to my heart and presses against me firmly. For five long beats, he stays this way. Then the rocks scrape across the concrete as he shifts, standing over me.

The world is suddenly ringing─ jarring and cruel. His groans of pleasure sound as kick after paralyzing kick begins. My ribs sing in agony and I feel my right eye swell then finally close. One last kick and he stops, leaning down to my face. I can smell him─ smell the bourbon and rot through his shit-eating grin. I will never forget this smell. He reaches down into his pocket and pulls something out. There is a familiar flick and I jerk feverishly looking up. A lighter. But I’m not given time to panic, there’s a sharp pain in the back of my head. It’s the last I know before darkness creeps in. I wish in these last moments to join my family. 

# 

The breath of life wakes me and I curse at the unwanted gift. Pristine black shoes invade my one good eye, sliding to a halt. In the distance, a wailing siren sounds over the gentle crackling of subdued flame. Were they my sirens? Had someone called in the fire? Tristan… I vow revenge in that moment, for my husband, my two sons─ offering to whatever deity can hear me my servitude. An instant passes−the feint flutter of wings resonates against the buildings. My eye strains and then focuses to the dark stretch of alley visible between Suit’s legs. A lone raven lands and cocks its head to the side. It stares in my direction, then eyes the men. It’s waiting. A single grating voice disturbs the hush and I cringe at reality.

C’mon where’s my feisty little reporter that I so admire. No stories for me?” Even though I know it won’t help, I stay quiet. He shifts and then continues, “maybe one about a particular company? Hmm, Vivian? ” My name slithers off of his tongue as if he were seducing a lover and I retch in disgust. Leaning down, he caresses my cheek. I try twisting away but he holds my face in place.

You and me, we could have a little fun before you go. I’ve always had a thing for redheads.” I growl pulling furiously away from his grasp, but he holds my chin in place.

I level my gaze at him, “I’d rather swallow razor blades while cigarettes are put out in my eyes,” I quip through clenched teeth.

Mmm, well suit yourself, love.” He lets go and with one hand, singles out a small patch of hair near my face. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a knife. When I try to squirm, he just laughs and cuts the strand from my face, nicking my brow.
He stands and parts the hair into two piles. One he pockets and the other, to my growing disgust, places in his mouth. He lets out a low moan, savoring the strands like they were a fine wine. Sick bastard. Suit finishes and leans down to dust off his shoes. 

Now, where were we, my dear?”

I feel the crushing weight of his foot bear down on my gut squeezing what little life is left of the child inside of me. I feel my baby’s fluttering movements as he tries to escape the pressure. I snap and thrust my head forward into Suit’s shin with as much force as I can. He curses and backs away, grabbing at his leg. Before I can stop myself words finally spew out. 

Stop it! You have what you want, they’re all dead.” My desperation does nothing but inflates his anger and he delivers a swift blow to my nose. Blood leaks down into my screaming mouth. Who was I kidding, what wayward deity would heed my call? I prayed for a quick death. There is that hope again─ I knew better. Daemon’s men took great pleasure in drawing out the kill. My husband was an exception to the rule, simply because in the right frame of mind, he would have killed these thugs in less than five minutes.

Suit chuckles, dusting off his pants. His tone comes out dismissive, “Alright, Green. It’s time the newbie earned his spot in the crew. Go on behind her and get your gun ready.” From behind, I hear shuffling and someone slowly walks up to me. I hear Suit sigh and tap his foot.

Kevin, what are you doing? Pull out the gun and place it on her head. We need to teach her a lesson.” I can hardly manage to breathe as I wait.

Yeah, sure I know.” Hesitation, “I just, you know─ do you have to beat her so much?” Suit doesn’t answer. The boy stutters, “I mean, damn man she’s already busted up real bad.” Keeping my head low, I glance at Suit’s shoes as he strolls over to Kevin.

Tell you what, Green. Why don’t you give me the gun and I’ll find a man that has a pair out here to do it for you.” Kevin shifts again before I hear the gun being handed off.

Look, I’m sorry Ty I just I got a soft spot for girls. That’s all, I don’t mean any disrespect─ It’s just whoa─ whoa okay man I’m leaving, alright?” The quick shuffle of his boots sounds as Kevin turns to leave. He gets midway across the parking lot before Suit puts three rounds in him. The deafening slump of his body signals the end of chivalry in the group.

Any more concerns, gentlemen?” When no one speaks, he hands the gun off to the nearest lackey and walks in front of me. Lackey two quickly shuffles and then presses the gun hard into my temple.

There now, all cozy.” He rubs his hands together. “Interruptions, interruptions. Where was I?” He claps, “Ah yes, the fact that you can’t keep your nose out of company affairs.” As if scolding a child, he tousles my hair. 

Well now, can’t have that, can we darling. Mr. Reese is a very busy man, I’m afraid, and can’t make it to your execution. But don’t worry. It will all be filmed for his enjoyment later.” His words sounded like he was explaining them to a business partner, just business as usual. No big deal we’ve murdered your entire family. 

Fuck this.

You spineless piece of shit. You think you’re going to get away with this? I’m sorry, that all of you, are going to get away with this?” She spat blood at the ground wincing from the pain before continuing.

What do you think will happen when a major news anchor doesn’t show for her reveal of the biggest accounting scandal the United States has known? All those poor families tossed aside─ They don’t even know what N.C. Global has in store for them, and all of you?” she paused chuckling─ let them blow her brains out.

All of you just sit back, get richer and watch your former employees die on the street from starvation. Yeah, I stuck my nose in─ right where it belonged, arrogant prick.” A sharp slap across my face sends me into fits of laughter, all sanity thrown to the winds like ashes. He slaps me again and again. The blood’s really flowing now, soaking the ground in front of me. I watch as it snakes around his black boots, untouched and blossoming into wings. At least a part of me can be free. The raven calls in the distance, maybe letting me know it’s still there. Maybe it’s come for the soul I’ve offered. Or maybe I’ve finally lost it. I smile through the long tangles of red matted to my face. My vision is sorely impaired, I can barely make him out. I look up to Suit’s shadowed form and whisper my last words.

Pray I don’t make it out of this alive.”

The Suit stops, watching me from above. I revel in his brief insecurity. For once, he is speechless. But that’s all Fate has allowed. To my dismay, his wheezing laughter sounds.

You think this is only about money? Oh, little girl, it’s more than that. You have−” Quickened crunches of gravel interrupt us, followed by an alarmed voice. 

We got problems, someone reported the fire and shots. We got five minutes, maybe less.” Tick, tock the death clock tolls. Suit clicks through his teeth, “Too bad, I wanted to have a little more fun with this one too.” Leaning down, he presses his mouth close to my ear. “How’s that sweet little sister of yours doing?” No. Not this, let it end with this. I can feel his smile with the next sentence, “Lily, was it?” My eyes widen in disbelief and a gag is thrust into my mouth. God, no her life was just starting. Lily was halfway through her doctorates at Harvard, barely 18. We had just celebrated her 18th birthday a few weeks ago. We knew she was special after testing out of middle school at eight. Lily was the only family that I had. Our parents had passed when we were young and our grandparents had succumbed to cancer several years ago. 

Standing, he turns and walks away. “Time for naughty little girls to go to bed.”

My bravado gone, I scream─ my vocal cords’ tearing until nothing comes out. Suit is gone, I don’t know where─ I desperately rip at my binds. My left shoulder cries in protest but I pull harder, finally dislocating it. It can’t end like this, not like this. They had to pay, all of them. The barrel nestles in the back of my skull. Give me fiery eternity─ I’d barter with any devil, spirit, or demon. The fates willing, even in death, I’d find a way. The resounding click cuts through my thoughts as the hammer is pulled back.

Shit. 

Flurries of wings, the splintering of skull, and silence.

Long moments pass and there is nothing. It feels like hours. I am stuck between existence and abyss. Did he pull the trigger? Maybe this is what they talk about. The minutes of brain function before you slowly fade. I’m in the fade. My thoughts cease as I feel the presence creeping behind me. Slinking, calculated steps. I wince at the glow and then look to see my body lying limp from the pole before me. Bits of gore and blood spray the sidewalk fanning out in a perfect semi-circle. Entranced I stare unable to tear my gaze from the beaten form. I should feel something, but all my emotions feel hollow. Except one─ hate. It fills me.

What is it that you want? The entity calls. Feathers explode surrounding my new body─ tenderly embracing it’s every orifice. I welcome the intrusion, letting it seep in. I halt as I draw breath. It is a curious effect because I feel nothing come in or out. For the first time, breathing is optional. For a moment, I struggle to find my voice─ then it rings out with clarity.

I demand retribution” I growl.

Yes indeed, it whispers, then a pause. And I can help you─ but first, a contract must be formed. I should have known. Nothing is free in the real world, why would it be after death?

I’m surprised at the wariness in my own voice, “Do what you must.”

Laughter reverberates off the enclosed space like autumn leaves. Child, do you know what you are getting into? My chin rises stubbornly though I quake in fear from its mighty presence. “I don’t care the cost, give me the contract.” In an instant, the twin beauties appear before my eyes. Their chrome is embellished with delicate, intricate designs− Desert Eagles, 50 caliber. One forged from obsidian, the other pure silver. Ironic, Tristan always told me they weren’t for girls. He was a retired war vet, so naturally had taught me how to shoot. She winced at the past tense used in her own mind. A shame neither of us were prepared since we moved to our city home. Anger shoots full force as I think about what had been done to both him and our son, Jason─ of the life ruined inside of me. Yes, I would do anything it took to make this right. No matter the cost. Choose the right one to commit the act, or suffer an eternity of servitude without your vengeance. But a warning−patience does not exist within the dark.

Words appear on each weapon, snaking around the intricate carvings. Vengeance to the left on Obsidian: Loyalty to the right on silver. So here was my catch. Vengeance was what I wanted, wanted bad but loyalty made sense since I would be in contract. More than likely, I would have to serve this thing, whatever it was, for the rest of eternity. Or did it anticipate that I would think that and pick vengeance instead as the right choice? Decisions, decisions time was ticking.

What do they both mean? Explain my choices.” Ah, clever girl. I will tell you, but for a price. I’m growing impatient with its games, but I need to know. “What is the cost?”

When and IF you are revived, no one will remember you. Not even your precious Lily─ if you so much as talk with her, the contract is broken and you will be sent to eternal damnation−
“And my vengeance is not given, I get it. Anything else?” I become nervous as the being is quiet for a while, I try to turn but something keeps me at bay. You are not allowed to see just yet, child. Of course not, could this thing be any more infuriating?

Here are the answers in which you seek:

Upon choosing the left with vengeance in mind, 

There can only be Death to the life you are tied

Never to see the light of day

And dissipate your spirit will. 

Upon choosing the right with loyalty in mind

Life will restore but to darkness, you bind

Vengeance is a mystery left to stay

However, your soul will forever remain. 

What did it mean, what did it mean? I try to break it down, so if I choose vengeance my soul goes away and I lose my life. But if I chose loyalty then there’s a chance that I may never get my vengeance. What the hell do I do? Images flash through my mind, my husband Tristan asking me to marry him, our first time to make love. The joyous news of a child and our first home, then Scott’s first steps, his sweet morning kisses. All of it gone in seconds─ precious seconds that now slip past me and a choice that will change everything. 

Time is running out ─ choose or I choose for you. My gaze flits left to right, wavering between the two. I hover for several seconds by Vengeance before finally jerking my hand to the right and gripping my destiny.

Now place the barrel to your temple and pull the trigger. 

Didn’t I have enough bullets to the brain for one night? My hand shakes from the weight of the gun as I put it in place, taking all of my strength to put the finger on the trigger. Ten seconds, twenty─ screw it. I close my eyes tight and squeeze the trigger feeling the bullet of Loyalty scream through. Laughter erupts around me.

The contract is sealed. 

#

Opening my eyes, I stare at stark, white walls. For a moment, I look around before realization sets in. This was it, a second chance. It is my time─ my fate and no one would take it from me again. Glancing down, I spot a neat pile of clothes and grin. On top is a folded piece of paper. Inside in fine print is an address:

105 West Main Street.

I know that it will lead me on the path to finding Suit and his men. The life telling machines beep in alarm as I rip the tubes from my arms and nose. Padding down the hall, I duck into the bathroom. The mirror is not a friendly place. I’ve lost quite a bit of weight and my hair has grown long. I know I shouldn’t, but I do anyway. I slowly pull at my shirt and look down. A small scar is visible, the scar where my little one was taken away. I have nothing. How could these bastards live with themselves? For god’s sake, I was seven months pregnant. Anger flows and I punch the glass in front of me.

The answer was simple─ I was nothing personal to any of them. Wiping the blood from my hand I lose myself a little to the madness and laugh. There would be no remorse or pity for them, and I was making it personal. I quickly change and smooth back my hair. Feeling a little less like a cancer patient, I step out of the bathroom. A nurse passes, eying me suspiciously. I take a casual stride as she passes and then slip from the nearest side exit. A blinding world awaits me, the sunlight shimmering down. Was it all a dream? As if in response, I feel the weight in each of my pockets. Reaching my hands inside they find the silky-smooth metal of the guns. There’s a street bike running, ten feet away. I smile as I ride from the parking lot.

Gallery

Red – A Psychological Thriller

Audiobook version here 

Warning, NSFW!

I pull the hoodie over my face, skirting behind Phase I in the west side apartments. I move quickly, rubbing my hands together and puffing little spurts of warmth into them. They’ve long turned into handscicles, and I vigorously alternate blowing hot air and rubbing them together. Phase I is much nicer than our apartments in Phase II. They even have platinum cards that unlock the gym by the office. Our apartments don’t even come with a stackable washer and dryer, let alone other amenities. Each building in Phase I contain two units, compared to our four, and the parking is covered. It takes about seven minutes to walk from Phase II to Phase I. I’ve timed it and with a marginal error of .08 seconds, varying on the speed of the walker, I find that a brisk pace clocks in at mostly seven minutes. I have not tested running.

Huffing up the final hill, I stop and stare out across the lot. The buildings in Phase II look like badly colored models, each strung with mismatched, twinkling lights. Travis and mine are one of the top units furthest to the left. Nestled close to the woods, it is the very last building to Phase II, and the only patio not blinking with festive lights. I tear my eyes from the gingerbread scene and lumber over to the parking spaces by the gym. My hands feel cold and sweaty. I cannot stop them from shaking, so I stuff them into the pockets of my jacket. I pray the thin fabric keeps them constrained, at least, for now. Tonight is the night I’ve been planning around for three long weeks. I crouch behind Tita’s brand new Infinity GI and watch as the thin figures run in place. The whir of the cycles and treadmills can be heard through the glass.

Tonight, the gym is packed with women, beautiful women, but only one is worth my time. Still, I take my time and marvel at their glistening, pale skin bouncing off of the harsh glow. It rivals the moon’s brilliance from the back alleyways in Fox Hollow. I stumbled across the neat little patches of homes several months ago. I’d fallen asleep and missed my stop after working a double shift. The moment I stepped off of that bus, I knew this would be the place of my future home. The stars were brighter, and the air smelled like honeysuckle after the rain. I inhaled it like a well-seasoned addict snorting a line of sugar. Call me crazy, but the hour bus ride and two-hour hike on foot is well worth it. I often envision myself sitting on one of the grand balconies, sipping Cognac and smoking Cuban cigars. Travis always makes fun of me for it, calling me ‘old man.’ It doesn’t bother me not really. Ill get out of this place someday, I know it.

Lately, I’ve been at the library studying every medical book I can get my hands on especially anatomy books. Sometimes when Travis and I get lucky, we leech off of our neighbors wireless, and I can search up any of the medical terms I don’t understand. I even started riding the bus to the local community college and asking questions. The advisor always has a hair out of place with a smile that never quite reaches her eyes. Shed look alright if she werent so fat. I figure I can stick it out there for a while, get the basics, and then maybe go to the university downtown. Ive been thinking about that a lot. The human body is a symphony of evolution. It changes tempo and accommodates for the key changes. Only genes matter. Each strand of DNA can make up the hellish discord people try to forget, or the heavenly chorus line that everyone remembers. It doesnt discern poor from rich. Genius can be born from the streets. You just got to know the right people. People like Titas father.

It wasn’t just about that though. I knew I wanted her from the first time she handed me her bags. I managed to snag a job at the Hilton carrying luggage for fifteen an hour. Not bad for someone like me. I always end up working in the usual places, retail, fast food, stuff like that. I had to borrow money from Travis to buy clothes for the interview, but I’ve already paid him back. I always pay back. I’m going to have to buy more clothes soon, or my boss will catch on that I lied about where I live. You got to lie when you aren’t born into wealth. It’s just how it is. Fake it till you make it and all that shit.

I remember being lost in Tita’s perfectly straight hair. Each strand was meticulously arranged to frame her face and shoulders. It ran down to her waist and was dark, darker than those gourmet chocolate bars that cost five dollars at Central Market. We talked the entire week she was at the doctor’s retreat. I found out her dad was one of the top neurosurgeons in the U.S., and was hosting a lecture that week on the new findings of children with Autism. Tita really wasn’t into that. She was more into anatomy, namely surgery, like me. It takes vast amounts of patience and deft slicing skills with a scalpel. Her knowledge of the human body was more than spectacular. It was a form of art. Somewhere, in the vast pool of human dredge, our bodies evolved from similar genes. It couldn’t have been coincidence that she stood before me, barely twenty-three, and almost through with her doctorates. We are the same, even in age, and I realized then, like now, that I need to show her my art. I can be just as precise. I’ve been practicing mostly on small to mid-sized animals in the woods behind Fox Hollow.

I am careful to always bring a change of clothing and shoes. But then, the need has progressed, and I have found larger things, softer things.

It is amazing how easy women will follow a good looking guy into the woods. Even some I barely know. It’s easy to single them out and know where to go. The bars are the obvious place, but those types quickly bore me. I like to find the odd ones that visit internet café’s or libraries. When I am able to get internet, it is really easy to pick out women in chat rooms. They always leap at the chance to meet up. One look at me is more than enough to convince them. And then off we go, hand in hand to their place of resting. Wealthy women are the most exciting. They assume that I target them for money and open their pocketbooks. The look they give me when I open them instead is breathtaking. I never touch any of them. It makes my skin crawl thinking of kissing their diseased, eager mouths. Only Tita could get a rise out of me in that way. We are the one percent of better equipped, and more evolved species. Not like my stain of a father. He died and left six kids to fend for ourselves. And for what, just to get his next fix.

I’ll never forgive him for what he did to Fe, and she was only fourteen. To a druggy, Fe was an easy meal ticket. No one questioned a hooker’s age. In fact, they probably knew. Fe’s beaten and half-burned body was dumped from the senator’s limo behind the local Chinese buffet. I was the only witness, and no one believes a nine-year-old boy. When the senator drove past, he handed me a crisp, hundred dollar bill. I held on to it for seven years and then stuffed it down his whore of a daughter’s throat as I plunged my knife in her left eye. No investigation was ever opened for Fe. She was born from an immigrant family. The other kids were legalized through the state and got into okay homes. One of my younger brothers even got into med school. I was too old for anyone to want me. No one wants a boy past the age of five or six no one, that is, except Mal. I never told Travis about him, probably never will. I dont think too much about that anymore. At least, I try not to. But sometimes it just kind of boils up all red and I have tofix it. Thats why I need to get out of this place, go to school, and then work on my real passion. At least then I wont go to jail for what I do. Ill get paid to do it. It will help me become acceptable to society. It cracks me up to think that some street kid like me is going to cut on all those suits with dick for brains.

I don’t want to think about that now though. I want to think about the silky smooth touch of Tita’s bare skin, and her beautiful toffee colored eyes behind square rims. I want to think about her hand brushing mine, as she slipped me a fifty that last night she stayed at the hotel. Through our long conversations, I gathered where she lived. I’ve been watching her ever since. She never misses a day of working out. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays she runs four miles. Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays are gym days. And Sunday she rides fifty miles on her bike. During the day, she attends school, and in the afternoon she shadows under Dr. Stein at Presbyterian Hospital. Every second Friday night, at exactly 10 p.m., she carries out a large, black duffel bag and is dressed for a night out. Her friends must meet her because I never see anyone visit Tita’s apartment, not even her father. When she returns at 3 a.m., she is dressed in casual clothing, usually jeans and a tee-shirt. I’m curious as to where she goes on these nights, and what, if not whom, she is doing. I’ve never seen her with a man or woman. Her driving is unpredictable. She drives the wrong way down one-way streets, and never manages to get into an accident. It’s almost as if she knows someone is following her. Travis’s Camry is no match. Even though Travis has a car, he doesn’t want it. He prefers riding the bus, so I’ve been steadily paying off the car. He says I only owe two grand, and then the car is mine.

I glance down at my watch it was almost time for Tita to get on the treadmill. I know Im being pathetic, but you never saw such bouncing beauties. The things I wanted to do to those tits. In heels, Tita is almost as tall as me, but her bones are small and delicate. She couldnt weigh more than a hundred and twenty pounds. I never thought about that before, I guess. But tonight, it is important.

My teeth chatter as I jump up and down. Next time, I’m borrowing Travis’s coat. He never leaves the apartment much anyway. Yellow blinking lights catch my attention, and I bolt across the parking lot toward the drink machines. I’m barely able to round the corner before the guard drives up. The brakes squeal, and from my peripheral view, I see that he has stopped. I can feel him scrutinizing my every move as I dig for change. Please let me have the right pants on. I relax as my hand grasps a crinkled wad of ones and I pull it from the stash. It’s going to cut into my dinner fund for the week, but this takes precedence.

Hey.” He says.

I freeze at his commanding rumble and turn. I pull the cowl from over my face and smile warmly. You have to disarm your opponent early before he catches on. I saunter toward him, wearing the fake grin. I’m good at making it reach my eyes. I’ve mastered it. My voice raises an octave and I take on a casual tone. I once read an article that people find higher voiced men to be non-threatening.

Evening officer,” I say. The guard likes this form of respect and smiles. His face and hands are weathered, no doubt from years of hard labor or service. He walks with a limp but tries to keep it hidden through controlled steps. If I had to guess, I’d say ex-military. He looks like a real hard-ass, even when smiling.

Haven’t seen you around. New to the building?” he asks. He’s testing me. He’ll be looking for a change in speech or tone that will give away my true intentions. This is his turf hell know the tenant list. There is no sense in lying.

Oh, no sir, I actually live in Phase II. Just came up to see my girlfriend. She’s in the gym working out right now.” I gesture toward the glass building. “She’s the curvaceous brunette on the far right.”

The guard lets out a low whistle, as he turns back to me. “I’ve been eyeing that piece for a while now.” He admires her for a second too long and I want to rip out his throat. Then he turns back. “I’ve never seen you with her though.” He says. I can tell I’m making him uneasy. I bother him, but he can’t seem to guess why. I let out a chuckle and scratch the back of my head. “Well, technically, she’d be upset if she saw me out here. If Daddy finds out we’re dating he’d flip a bitch.” I lean in. “I just like to watch her run if you know what I mean.”

The guard leans over laughing and slaps his knee. “Ah, hell, is that why you were out there crouched behind the cars like some weirdo stalker?” Someone has spotted me. This is unacceptable. I burst out laughing with him and nod my head. In my haste, I’d forgotten to fully scan the area tonight. There was no room for error and now my whole evening is compromised. Sooner or later though, hard-ass was going to ask Tita about her boyfriend. Once he finds out the truth, there will be no stopping him. No, I just have to take my chances and go through with the plan. The most the person probably saw was a guy with a hoodie standing behind Tita’s car. No defining features or giveaways. This is going to work. It has to.

Shaking his head, the guard gets back into his golf cart. “I’d do the same if she were mine.” The beep from the engine sounds and the guard starts it up. “Don’t go around scaring my tenants anymore, alright?”

I put on my best guilty face and incline my head. “No problem, won’t happen again, I promise.” I wave as he leaves and returns to the soda machine. I need a plan. No doubt he will wait to see if I return to Phase II. I got off lucky. He forgot to ask what apartment I live in. I stare at the white letters that are scribbled across the red machine. Maybe they will give me an answer. The black trim is stifling over the red glow. I want it to melt away so I can get to the cool innards. But it is strong. The only way to get my prize is to wait while the coins fall in place and the can comes to me. I just need to push the right button. I smile at the blue and red can that pops out. I know what to do.

* * *

I shouldn’t have gone for my ribs. I think one may be cracked. I had to keep the wound out of sight. Sergeant Guard thinks I don’t see him behind the first building in Phase II. His bulky form is easy to make out against the delicate branches of the dogwood. A stench of recently put out black and mild cigarillo permeates the air. Mal’s favorite. The red tinges my vision, but I push it down. I’m too close, I can’t lose it now. I manage to make it up the stairs and into our apartment. Travis is curled up in his usual spot on the couch with his laptop. His mop of brown hair is barely visible over the monitor. Like most eighteen-year-olds, the computer is his life. The only difference is Travis has a social anxiety disorder. I usually have to do most of his errands for him, so I know this will be hard.

Travis, help.” I wheeze, falling to the floor.

He jumps up and runs to my side. I feel guilty for tricking the kid, but this is the only way. I’m running out of time. In thirty minutes Tita will have finished. By now she’s left the treadmill and has moved to weight lifting. I’m impressed by her leg presses. The muscles beneath her flesh must be lean and strong. It will be a real treat to see them up close. I growl as Travis picks me up and walks over to the couch. I tell him I’ve been jumped by some punks in Phase II, he buys it. In less than ten minutes he’s off to pick up some meds from one of his online buds across town. I know the bus route. It will take him two hours and forty-five minutes to return. That leaves me just enough time. I hand him the hoodie and tell him to bundle up, it’s cold outside. I smile as he pulls the hood over his face and walks out. I’ve chosen my double well, we have very similar body types and from the distance the guard would be standing, we’d look identical.

Five minutes and fifty-eight seconds later, I’m in front of the gym. I’m hoping she remembers me. It has been three weeks since she last saw me. The guard will get bored once he is convinced I am really waiting on the bus, and will leave. I pray he doesn’t confront Travis to find out why I am leaving, when I am supposed to be waiting on my girlfriend to get out of the gym. These are risks I just have to take. Tita is looking at her wrist now and moves to grab her coat. Right on time, she never disappoints. I walk over to her building and reach for my keys. I know she is right behind me as I pretend to be lost, and looking around. I hate improvising but this will have to do. I take one final look and start heading back to the path. I’m surprised to find her watching me. She hasn’t said anything, and I’m nervous she doesn’t remember. I try to walk past her, but she steps in my path.

Jason?” her tone sounds guarded. I have to watch what I say.

I look up, feigning surprise. “Yes?”

Tita is staring me down like all those rich people do when I walk through their neighborhood. I’ve had the cops called on me twice for just walking down the street. I’m tempted to do her here, right under the stairs, but then some jack-ass walks out of his apartment to smoke. I stick my hand in my pocket and run my thumb along the blade. I know it is just a dumb thought, but I’m still irritated by his intrusion. By now, the red is making my head throb, I can’t last much longer. I need release soon.

What are you doing here?” Tita asks. Her eyes, normally soft and inviting, have turned to crystallized amber. This is not how I wanted things to go. I need to make her believe, it’s my last chance.

I look to the ground and cough, trying to look flustered. “I, well, just moved in. I’ve been at my parent’s this last week, so this is my first time seeing the place after we moved all of my stuff in.” I laugh, feeling like an idiot. “I think I’m a bit lost.” She doesn’t look convinced. I’m debating my next sentence. If Tita doesn’t buy anything I say, she’ll never invite me in. That’s why I nearly trip over myself when she does.

My goodness, you poor thing. I’ve been there before.” She gestures up the stairs to her apartment. “You want to come up for a bit?” Her shoulders relax and she smiles warmly. I turn toward the building as if hesitating on her invite. Then I turn back.

Sure.”

* * *

Tita prattles on about the weather outside as she puts her coat on the wall. She offers to take Travis’s coat and I let her. I finger the chloroform cloth in my pocket. I’m safe from the guard for now, but that doesn’t worry me. What does is trying to get to Tita’s car with a hundred and twenty pound duffel bag. Her apartment is just as I pictured it; Clean, and white. Her minimalistic taste is almost unbearable, I want her now. I want to see the red across the crisp, white rug. I want to flay her honey skin on the deep walnut flooring. But I restrain myself. Sooner or later she will have to turn her back and I will pounce. She turns on the T.V.

Would you like any tea?” she asks. Yes, I do. Then Tita walks away. She leaves a trail of perfume. It’s flowery and fresh like the smell of linen. I slip off my shoes and stand. The stove is in the back of the u-shaped kitchen and her back is to me. My hand is a miniature earthquake as I pull the cloth from my pocket and soak it with chloroform. I need this so bad. Just a few more feet and the red will go away. All the grunting men that stood over my naked, bent form will go away. The tiny razors and cigarillos carving into my flesh will go away. Mal will go away.

I’m behind her when she turns and smiles. Seconds later there is a sharp pinch in my neck. I drop to the floor and the world goes black.

* * *

I wake in an all-white room, the brick is gray and there is plastic lining the floors. The humming and beeping of the life telling machines drone on. I cannot move. She stands before me, an angel in white. She is adorned in a blue sash that is wrapped once around her thin neck and drapes on either side of her breasts. It is tinged in various hues of red, some stains newer than others. Tita leans down so close that I can feel the heat radiating from her body.

I saw you watching me.” She whispers. She rises up then pulls something from the table on my left. My eyes stretch as far as they can and I’m barely able to see the outline of a black bag. I look back at her, the knife glistens in her hand like a miniature sword. I see the same eagerness in her vision that often tinges mine. My gaze never leaves hers as she makes the first incision below my sternum.

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Coral – A Short Story

Coral

      I watch from the window as the tall, dark-haired woman walks to her car. She’s dressed smartly for the summer in a cool white dress and matching shoes. Her coral colored toes peek playfully from the crisp, white heels. Coral nail polish is mama’s favorite too. I have a sneaking suspicion that there exists a secret witch’s coven dedicated to destroying children’s lives, all of them standing in neat little rows with coral painted feet. I stick my tongue out and make faces at the woman behind her back. Ms. Cathy’s neat little brown bun, like the last of my hope, disappears into the green ford explorer. The wheels crunching over the gravel sounds like rain beating across our thin roof. This time she stayed less than ten minutes. She spoke in that annoying tone that adults do when they think you are pulling one over on them. Most of the women that came out would simply say ‘mind your mother now and be a good girl’. They have never witnessed mama’s wrath or that look in her eye. The look that could melt all of Antarctica with a single glance.

Katherine-Anne- Thomas you get out here right now.”

      I sulk at Mama’s tone, she always sounds like she is screaming at me to come inside. No matter how far I stand from her. I take my time, dragging my fingers along the familiar dips and bumps on the wall. I pause at the entrance to the living room and then drop down to my knees and peer around the TV stand. Her blonde mane is perfectly groomed, each strand of hair curls to frame her heart-shaped face. Her bangs had been feathered just right to hover over magazine quality blue eyes. The rich seductive curve of her lips is outlined in a fiery red and she is clothed in a silky string top the same color over black slacks. If it is one thing mama is good at, it is finding stylish clothes on a budget. She once found a pair of real leather boots miss-marked at twenty-nine dollars. Not only did she get the boots at a reduced price but also a complementary matching purse and wallet. Mama always wins.

I cringe at the giggles and coos of my half-brother as he stands to point in his bouncy chair from the kitchen doorway. I hadn’t noticed him since he is on the left and mama is on the couch to the right. “Shi-Shi” Logan squeals in full force. His sing-song voice bounds from wall to wall sealing my fate with the happy jingle, tingle of the bells on either side of him.

    “Katherine, now.” More than her usual yelling spree, it was the calm, collected voice she sometimes uses that scares me the most. And today is one of those days. I gulp and rise up on shaky knees. My teeth, no matter how hard I press them down, will not stop chattering. I round the corner I stare up at the fierce, flush face of my mother. I bring my gaze to the floor a millisecond too late and her hand clamps over my cheeks.

Don’t you look at me that way, you know exactly what you did,” she spits, tightening her grip.

I haven’t done anything, it was more than likely our neighbors that called, but there is no

convincing her of that. Besides, apologizing only ignited her anger further. I wisely remained

silent and locked my gaze on the pearly glow of her coral nail polish. Each toe was dug firm into

the ground, straining to break free of their wooden captor. I became mesmerized by the gleam,

the unending sea of peachy-red and I tried to imagine what the color would feel like wrapped

around my arms. Maybe it would comfort and warm me, sprinkle cinnamon and peach kisses

across my face like grandma. Grandma’s kisses were always the best, proud and solidly planted

on my forehead. But grandma was dead, long dead from cancer that had spread throughout her

chest and stomach. There was no sense in wishing for her now. Logan’s preoccupied giggles

peppered through seconds before I felt the repeated pounding of numbing blows. He must have

lost interest and began playing with his toys.

My body lay as still as a statue, not moving until I heard her slowly pad toward the baby.

Cracking my eyes a tiny slit, I watched as she bent down and picked Logan up from his bouncy

swing. His eyes scanned the room and then looked down at me. He made an uncertain gurgle,

patting mama’s face and pointing to me. Laughing she nuzzled him to her face and walked into

the kitchen. I heard him say shi-shi as mama gently lowered him into his high chair.

Now, now” I heard mama coo, “Shi-shi is taking a nap and it’s time for your lunch. How

about sweet peas for my sweetie?”

I counted the grooves in the wood. I looked as

far away as my eyes could without opening further. This was a way for me to gauge time, once I

was able to count them ten times it was okay to get up and go to my room. On the tenth pass, I

heard the key enter the front door and quickly stood up, dusting my arms and legs. Mechanically,

I walked to the front door and smiled as my stepfather came in. He had dark rings under his

chocolate colored eyes and his normal neat crop of black hair was tousled and unkempt. He

smelled of sweat and metal, no doubt from his long night shift. I knew it was almost time for his nap before he had to turn around and go to school.

My stepdad is a good guy; he never touches me or beats me in any way. That makes him

pretty decent in my book. I know that he knows about mom’s beatings but he cleverly avoids the

topic. Mom once confronted him and asked him to use the belt on me, but he said it wasn’t his

place and she snatched the belt away tearing it across my legs and back.

James,” Mama says, her cheeks glowing like the color of her toes. His deep laugh

rumbles through his chest as mama hugs him tight.

I slowly inch toward the hallway as they talk about each other’s day. I am almost to my sanctuary when Mama calls from the kitchen. She must have finished lunch because when I return to the living room my stepdad is flicking through channels on the TV and eating a sandwich. My stomach grumbles in protest as I step into the kitchen. I look down at the off-white tile and marveled again at the

perfection of Mama’s handy work. The toes seem to be getting brighter as the day passed, shining

like the surface of the sun in the afternoon light. I silently wonder if I hack them

into tiny pieces what I would find. I began to seriously believe it

was her natural toenail color. Grabbing a patch of my hair she twists until I am down on one

knee whimpering. I hate giving in, hate it so much I bite down on my tongue and fight not to

scream. I stare blankly at Mama’s blouse, careful to not cry or show anger.

You listen well you little brat. I want you to do the dishes” she yanks harder until

I am sure my whole left side of hair would rip off. “Logan’s father and I are going to sleep, understand?” I nod my head, gritting my teeth through the white-hot pokers in my skull.

Your brother is also laying down, so I expect not so much as a clang from this kitchen.

Are we clear?” She gives my hair one final tug and throws me back into the stove. I drop to a fetal position on the floor and stare forward. She slowly walks toward me, each reddish-pink nail on her pristine feet slowly coming into focus. I can feel her staring down at me, watching every microexpression on my face. Finally, there is a shift in the air and then she is gone. Just to be safe, I slowly count to ten before getting up. I pace back and forth, imagining that each step creates a tiny groove in the tile. That would get her, if I just dent the floor enough she would trip and maybe put a chip in her flawless

toes. I pause as something occurs to me, why haven’t I thought of it before? The color, the c-

o-l- o-r. I drew it out in my mind, each syllable burning worse than the last. I have to rid her of

the nail color. It’s probably filtered into her bloodstream, polluting her mind with its filthy lies about me. A bad, bad girl− it would say. Looks too much like her deadbeat dad, it would snicker in its low

raspy taunt. No, not the sweet warmth of cinnamon and peach, it has tricked me all along. It has to be fooling Mama too.

Tears wet my face for the first time in two years as I pre-rinse each pan, bowl, and plate,

placing them into the dishwasher. It is our newest appliance, one that has eaten up most of my

Stepdad’s savings. I lean over to place the final two bowls in the washer when one

slips from my grasp. I stare in horror as it shatters into a thousand porcelain pieces, dusting the

floor like newly fallen snow. I freeze, my hands clamping over my mouth. I draw a shaky breath, my eyes glued to the doorway. The mountainous roar that follows confirms my worst fear. There is a flurry of movement, all yellow, red and black. Cool, clammy hands wrap around my neck and squeeze. “You-did- that-on- purpose, you little bitch.” I try in vain to speak to her. I try to tell Mama that it was the nails, the vile color she painted on them from the little glass tube was controlling her mind. Instead, the only thing I manage is a puff of air and a squeak as I slowly lose feeling in my legs. I claw at her vice-like grip sinking to the floor. My eyes lock with her tempests of blue. But somehow they look purple now, with ribbons of red snaking through. The coral has won, they have tinged her eyes. I must look like a stranger in our home and she is trying to protect all of us.

Maybe I am in my room, playing with the Barbie she gave me for my fifth birthday. It is probably just a dream and I will wake any moment to my other life. My real life. My lungs are about to burst, I can feel the coral sinking into them through my windpipe from Mama’s fingertips. My vision fades as I hear a soft voice calling to me in the distance. I smile at the calm, beautiful woman that reaches out to me. There she is, my real mother. I can see her in our backyard, looking at me with a profound sense of love. Tears spill down my cheeks as I call to her. From the distance, I hear my stepfather yell. A smile forms on my lips, my vision darkening but still present enough to make out what is in front of me.

I have finally done it; put a chip in the perfect peachy color. Just beneath Mama’s feet a rich, vivid red spills onto the floor. I grin as I feel the warmth of the color wrapping my body and drawing me close. It weeps softly, rocking me to sleep.

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Arlingcon 2018 – June 30th – Japanese vs. American Horror Comics!

Hey guys! I’ll be at Arlingcon this year. It’s a one-day event, family friendly and it’s free! I’ll be presenting on Saturday the 30th from 3:15 – 4:00 p.m. Details can be found on the event here. 

This year, I’ll be presenting Japanese vs. American horror comics! I’ll be presenting in the San Saba hall at 3:15 p.m. CST on Saturday. Please feel free to come ask questions or hang out before or after the event at my table. I’ll be located in the Vendor Hall in the Bluebonnet Ballroom, table B-06. More info can be found on the facebook event page listed in the above link. Here is the pdf schedule file for all of you. 🙂

ArlingCon 2018 Program

 

ArlingCon 2018 Program-8

 

Can’t wait to see you all there.

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Details for our DnD Online Mini-Campaign Event – Sunday, July 1st

UPDATE

No one can play today so we will be doing the actual campaign on Sunday instead. Today will just be a fun session, no actual campaign with a completed story. Just a fun time DnD super mini-campaign for silliness. Unfortunately, no one could run today so we are going to have to change it to Sunday the 1st. 🙂

Hey guys! We took a vote this past week on what everyone wanted and people voted on an online mini-campaign. I currently have 2 players that have expressed interest in it and would like to play. If you would like to join, please send me a message on Twitter or on Twitch and we can get you all taken care of. I have room for 2 more players.

We will also be interacting with the viewers and putting your fate in their hands during crit fails, or crits on DM. This should keep us all on our toes and make it tons of fun for everyone. :3

– For my players –

  • Please choose any race you would like for 5e. If you want a custom character, please run it by me first. We are running more of a home-brew style since this is super short notice, so don’t feel like you have to know all the rules, this will be more story driven, but we will use 5e system for fighting.
  • Rolls for stats:  roll 4 6-sided die and record the cumulative total of the highest 3 dice 6 times or take the “standard set” which is 15,14,13,12,10,8. Either is fine. 🙂
  • Lore details are below so you can get a feel for the setting. We are in a modern-day setting, with modern tech, however, our society has been thrown back to an age of magic and gods. The elder gods have almost disappeared, replaced by gods of technology. Or so, we have been lead to believe. Please listen to the audio clip before our campaign Sunday so you can properly build your character.
  • We will have a final boss. Be prepared.
  • The viewers will get to vote on what happens if you crit fail a roll (we will use a digital roll system, or use the honor system) or if you crit against my monsters.
  • Create an account here: https://roll20.net/ and Join my campaign: https://app.roll20.net/campaigns/details/3441772/year-zero If you can’t, just send me your email and I will invite you. 🙂
  • Create a fun, short backstory for your characters and send it to me. Even if it’s just a few words, a paragraph, etc. and your god you choose. Choose god from 5th ed, and I will have a surprise for you after you send it. (story wise)
  • We are starting everyone off at lvl 7
  • Please add me on Discord: CAGreyson#8523
  • Send me a DM on Twitter or Twitch if you have any questions. I don’t get on FB much at all.

    Game lore, please listen!