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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. I’ll 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 neighbor’s 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. She’d look alright if she weren’t so fat. I figure I can stick it out there for a while, get the basics, and then maybe go to the university downtown. I’ve 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 doesn’t discern poor from rich. Genius can be born from the streets. You just got to know the right people. People like Tita’s 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 don’t 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 to…fix it. That’s why I need to get out of this place, go to school, and then work on my real passion. At least then I won’t go to jail for what I do. I’ll 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 I’m 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 couldn’t 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─ he’ll 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!

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Fortnite Charity Event for St. Judes

Hey Guys! You may be wondering this coming week (June 5th – June 10th)   why I am not streaming more than 1 day. Rest assured my frens, it’s for a good cause. This week, I’ll be participating in A Fortnite to Save the Children a two-week-long event dedicated to St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital.  This is my first Twitch charity event and I can’t wait to be a part of it. I will be streaming for 12 hours straight from 7:00 a.m. CST – 7 p.m. CST to try and raise funds for this wonderful cause. We will also have viewership games, prizes, and entertainment for all. 

During this week, I will also be supporting other streamers and participating in the event with all of you! So don’t fret, if you notice Grey isn’t on but one day. It’s for a worthy cause, and I’ll be in the channels with all of you. ❤

I’m live every week from 2:00 p.m. – 8 p.m. CST Tuesday – Sunday on Twitch. 

More Fortnite Save the World Tutorials, podcasts, and books coming soon! 

If you’d like to support the channel, you can also find my personal art and works here and here.

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The World To Silence – The Watchmen

And the Watchmen wander the streets, looking on at the scampering rodents. The flurries and flutter, a wisp of a coat. With weary eyes they usher;

Tick-tock, little rabbits run to your den.

For on this night, hallowed night, We send the world to silence.

Ever still, ever waiting, ever curious in their abode they watch;

They wait.

And the Watchmen release their hymn to fall on deaf ears.

Let the breeze stir, let the night rise. Oh peace, dear quiet surely now come.

And they huddle, sweet nothings, such dears in their homes; Oblivious, diurnal, and fear of unknown. Eyes drooping and bones weary.

For the world, in one night, the Watchmen did see, as They gaze from the darkening, the mist, while it crept.

Into the crevices, through humble dwellings and at last, their eyes cast upward.

This night, hallowed night, They gifted the world to silence.

 

The World to Silence – Hymn of The Ancient Ones

 

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Latest Fortnite Tutorial is Up and Updates!

 

Be sure to subscribe for more videos like these!

 

You can catch me live on Twitch Tuesday – Sunday from 12:00 p.m. – 7 p.m. CST. here. The only change in schedule will happen every other weekend and those days will be added to my calendar under the event’s panels on my page. (they happen from 9:00 a.m. – 11:00 a.m. instead)

Also in the pipeline is Vengeance part 3 (the conclusion to the first 2. They can be found here.)

So what’s coming next?

Well, my friends, we are going to have a live podcast with all of you about Japanese vs. American urban legends and mythos. You all voted, and I’m delivering. Be prepared for a fun day of spooky and odd stories for our When East Meets West segments this year. You can find previous podcasts here. I typically do a few podcasts a year over the supernatural, East vs. West culture, and mythos. Namely, things that go bump in the night and some odd affairs that none of us think about in our day-to-day lives.

I plan on organizing a live audiobook reading but haven’t gotten all of that ready just yet, so I’ll spare you the details. 😉 Just know I’m planning a few special live events this year.

If you are a writer or a new writer, you may want to check out my Wednesday lunch podcast covering Writer Workshops every Wednesday at 12:00 p.m. – 1:00 p.m. This coming Wednesday is how to become self-published and steps to take to prepare and be a success. If you would rather catch them after the fact, I also place them on YouTube later that day or the following day.

We finally finished The Evil Within 2 and now it’s time to move forward! Next on my list is NieR Automata. I know I’m late to the game, but man I am so hyped about this. I try and dedicate at least one game as an alternative to Fortnite PvE (Save the World). I play this mostly all week (and during my off time, let’s be honest) but I love many different games, especially ones with decent stories) and this one has really caught my eye. I’ll be starting this coming Sunday at 12:00 p.m. CST. Come hang out and let’s play it together.