Family Man by Solomon Blaze

The rain Poured.

Stormwind tears around the pair in a sadistically small cyclone, made up of searing hot atmosphere and acidy rain. The plains are expansive. The plains are dark, and cold, and lonely. He can’t see; the light’s left this place, to be with him.

She shivers and shakes in His arms,’ I knew you were trouble,’ she chokes out, thumping him on the chest in frustration.

He grits his teeth against the idea, ‘I would burn it all down; if you would be Queen of the Ashes...’

She looks up, startled.

He looks down into her StarStream eyes and kisses her; brilliantly uplifting light explodes out of the two, stopping the tornado dead and clearing the path ahead – if there had been one to begin with...

He scowls at the horizon, ‘get on my back,’ He says definitively.

‘What?’ she winces, turning frantically from side to side,’ why? What’s there??’

He looks back into her; ‘Do you trust me...?’

‘...what?!’

‘Do you trust me?

She thinks – really thinks...’Yes.’ she agrees after what seems like nevermore.

He turns and kneels down, holding his arms back, ‘hop on!’ He says, turning back with that Peter Pan smile.

The anxiety falls away with a look into those carelessly haunted eyes and she does as he asks

He turns on his axis 180 degrees; and their off.

Not 200 yards into motion and a small, hard object comes whizzing past His face, so fast that the air around it is enough to cut his cheek.

A bang is heard in the far off distance, followed by a noise not unlike a swarm of motivated Hornets.

‘Hold on!’ He shouts to the precious treasure on his back, who wraps Her arms around his neck like an Anaconda, burrowing her face into his red hair to hide.

A wall of the miniature objects come flying towards them; He takes a deep breath, let’s Himself enter the Flow State and moves through the pellets one after the other until they’ve completely cleared the barrage.

‘What happened?!’ She screams, lifting her head up against the g-force of the run.

‘Just close your eyes and count to sixty!’ He yells back.

A frown covers His features as the ground starts to quake...suddenly sending a gargantuan Barrier of earth to stop them. He runs faster and faster, until he’s sure that he can clear it. He comes to the face of the monolith, slamming a determined foot in the first of it, turning them both upwards and sent their joint momentum rocketing against the force of Gravity.

...

......

.........They make it.

The view is spectacular: golden ambiance floods the abyss beyond this threshold, with a skyline carrying the promise of everything and nothing; all the things that are beautiful...in this world, in the next world, in your heart and mine; all the things that are beautiful; all the things that are Fine.

- But the Wall is still dark, cold and windy;

...

......

.........so He jumps, with her held tight and plummets to a new tomorrow; out of the Endless Night and into the Windless Light.

Lullabye by Solomon Blaze

Something in me

Once was dead,


Breaks on through

As Light in stead.


I am (not) borne to any Path.


I am Love and I am Wrath.


The Riptide come;

I am Downed...


Until the Next Time.

Nuclear Family by Solomon Blaze

The Devil takes you Hand;

God takes your Soul.

‘Cause your down this hole,

All alone...

If a Crow flies straight,

Then where’s the road?

Because I’m tired,

Of all this pointless Rock n’ Roll.

It’s all about:

Heart

And Soul,

And Love

And Hate.

‘Be a Man and take the pain.’

So Everything else can stay the same...

The Fear by Solomon Blaze

Adec - with his blood red hair, aqua eyes and freckle strewn face - loved Aokigahara Forest at this time of year; the warmly humid, moist air; the clouds engulfing the entire path for hours on end; the majestic animals that stared at him with an apathetic curiosity.

Yes, with nothing more than a bag full of Rice Wine and dumplings; a sword swinging from his hip, perfectly aligned to his hands, life was good. The great mountains stretched up into the sky as if to touch the heavens; the water was always beyond crisp; the never ending and ever bustling plant and animal life brought an exhilaratingly, orchestral atmosphere to the whole place. Frogs croaking, Pandas yawning, Elk galloping through the trees; Adec reflects upon the beauty of his road and deems it fitting, that this place be one of the most famous suicide hotspots in the entire world.

The high pitched wail of pain sort of smashed that atmosphere.

Within the Grove by Solomon Blaze

Come all you weary,

Rest you your Souls.

Revenge is a dish best served cold

And the best dishes take a long time to prepare...

This hill is high.

It’s falling down.

Everything is burning...

Everyone is screaming...

Everywhere is Life;

Everywhere is Death...

I did this.

I did this and I don’t feel any better – I don’t feel worse...but I don’t feel better.

The World broke Me, so I broke It.

That’s the way things are.

There is no limit;

There is no point;

There never even was.

But fuck, did I ever love those pretty lies...

Smoke and Mirrors by Solomon Blaze

Dreams are your reality, when you’re Soul can’t sleep.

Pseudo-skies crumble;

You’ll drown in the Puddle.

It’s only Smoke and Mirrors;

You’re only Blood and Bones.

Please don’t take me, I want to stay...

Forever on the Surface; shall I simply lay?

No More Sorrow by Solomon Blaze

‘She’s bleeding out...’ I say to Callum; the love of his laugh dying in his arms.

‘No more sorrow at least, I guess...’ he chokes through a dam of tears.

Kelly’s just splayed out on the floor, unconscious and bleeding to death from a gash in her abdomen that is just gushing out blood; neither of us can really do anything; there’s no point in trying to move her now.

The corridor’s white tiled floor is a paddling pool of oxidized plasma.

Gunshots fire from around the corner behind us. Screams, battle cries and finally a loud crashing noise that tells the two of us He is here.

The whistling starts and a tall figure steps out from round the corner, turning on his heel to face us. He’s handsome – like James Bond turned into a sociopath - with slicked back dyed black hair and a floor length trench coat that drags itself through the river of blood around his feet.

He stops whistling and smiles broadly, ‘so you are here!’ he shouts triumphantly down the hall.

I just get up, thinking fuck this with every inch of my being. Callum’s looking at me as if he wants to protest; he knows he couldn’t, so there’s no point.

‘Whoa-ho-ho-hooo, you look aaaangry!’ He says smacking his lips with his tongue.

I light my hands with the intense heat of Strong Nuclear Force Style; the hallway instantly sets alight with a violent, flickering orange glow.

He floods his hands with the bright electric blue light of the Weak Nuclear Force Style; the hallway is now a haunting violet colour.

The hum of power in this the tight atmosphere is nauseating; the walls and ceiling are cracking and breaking apart with the force of our combined and conflicting Wills.

He raises a curious eyebrow, with a dirty smirk that I’m gonna’ blast off of that disgustingly perfect mug, ‘you suuure you wanna’ do this?’ He says spreading his arms apart as a taunting insult to me, my best friend and –probably dead by now – lover.

I hold his gaze and despite the almost electromagnetic repellent effect of his antagonistic soul, I strut towards him with my fists clenched;

Fuck you...

Unsaid Things by Solomon Blaze

I’ve always loved bonfires; ever since I was a kid I’d grab whatever stuff I thought was tacky or that people wouldn’t care about – which they almost always did – and setting them on fire in the back garden.

It’s actually gotten me into some pretty big trouble twice (prior to this).

I wish they’d stop screaming though...it just causes a scene.

It’s her fault anyway!

~ You totally botched this, you useless fuck; you couldn’t even burn a building right ~

‘Shut up!’ I shout at the voice in my head; it cackles madly; dizzyingly...

Sooner or later one of the bridesmaids comes running out of the church’s front doors, a banshee of flaming violet fabric.

I just shoot her; I’m not really in the mood for gaes.

~Oooohooohooo niiice ~ says the voice.

‘Hmmm...’ I moan ponderously ‘I wonder what sort of trouble I’d get into for burning a church, filled with the guests to my ex-wife’s wedding...’

The church roof caves in;

The screaming stops.

Finally!

Where Did the Party Go? by Solomon Blaze

You think you have so much; all of your little sticker books, cuddly toys, rare clothes, limited edition books, entire comic collection, the list of things I used to own seems endless...

My house burnt down, exactly a month before my eighteenth – it was very much my own fault.

I’d literally just held my first ever – and very successful I might add – BBQ at my place the day before; my parents had finally agreed to leave me alone in the house, after years of pleading I could handle it.

So this day, I woke up in a predictably stupendous mood.

I wanted to get stoned and just relax by myself for the day...but I had no lighter...

So I used a tea candle. I put it on the windowsill of my bedroom window and used the flickeringly evasive flame to lift my weary spirits, as my lack of worries went up in smoke.

I closed left the candle (lit) on the windowsill – opening my window to air the sickly sweet smell of grass out of the house – and closing the curtains (fuck knows why).

So, I’m downstairs on my computer listening to ‘Break Ya’ Neck’ by Busta’ Rhymes...when I smell burning...

What the hell, I thought in my stoned hip-hoppin’ head, the BBQ definitely ended yesterday...

I get up from the computer, taking my headphones off and don’t hear anything suspicious (believe it or not, I’d taken the batteries out of my smoke detectors).

At the bottom of the stairs, I look up to the top – as you do before you climb the stairs – and what do I see?

Thick black smoke, flooding the entire upper level of my house.

I run.

Up to the landing and through the smoke - which is already both blinding and suffocating me and grab the handle to open my bedroom door.

- Obviously the handle is scalding hot and I recoil the instant I touch it, my hand searing with pain and adrenaline now tearing through my veins; I’m subconsciously running through every single possible outcome of what I’m about to do...

I kick the bedroom door open, diving to the side to avoid the inferno that explodes out of the room, desperate for oxygen to keep it ablaze and alive.

The room is completely incinerated. Y TV has exploded and is melting all over the chest of draws that contain every novel I’ve ever collected, every photograph I’ve ever printed and every item of clothing I’ve ever bought.

The curtains are a wall of fearsome fire, roaring at me as I meet its gaze. Fucking hell, not again! – yes, I had set my old house on fire once, when I was ten years old...but not like this.

I immediately grab the first things that come to my mind: my phone, charger, Astrojax and of course, my cuddly rabbit that I have had since birth.

Then I move. I blast out of the bedroom, through the smoke and down the stairs.

‘MEEEOOOOW!!’ I hear suddenly pierce through the dense atmosphere; Oh shit! George! – my mum’s cat sleeps in her bedroom and the door was closed.

I sigh with frustration and drop the stuff I’ve saved, run back up through the now flaming landing, rip open the door and enter the very nearly smoke filled room. I throw my body onto the floor and peer under the bed, seeing two absolutely petrified eyes that call to the part of me that adores animals.

Despite his redundant clawing attempts, I managed to pull him out from under the bed, wrap him in my shirt and run back through the flames and into the back garden – where the cat promptly ditches my ass and I’m left alone again.

My cat, Toby, is sat on the garden bench, with no clue as to what’s going on; he yawns when he sees me, ignorance really is bliss eh?

I go back in, quickly grab the stuff I’d dropped on the bottom landing floor, go back outside, sit down with my cat and pull out my phone.

I ring the fire brigade first, of obviously, then my best friend Steve...

*ring*...

*ring*...

*ring*...

‘Hey bro, what’s up?’ says Steve nonchalantly.

‘Hey buddy...don’t be mad, ok...?’ I say sheepishly.

‘Why? What have you done this time?!’

‘...I did it again...’

‘What?!’

‘I’ve burnt my house down...’

In the distance, I can hear the sirens...

Reminder by Solomon Blaze

I hate that it’s just darkness; I thought there’d at least be something, ya’ know, after...

- But there isn’t.

The last thing I remember is being dragged in the alleyway by that creep; I should’ve listened to my father – I know I know, you don’t have to say it!

But I mean come on I’ve walked home from downtown a whole bunch of times and never been violently raped, then accidentally murdered!

Stupid dick head...

I struggled – like anyone would – and he beat me to death!

No matter how loud I screamed,

Cried,

Or whimpered,

The filth just kept pounding on me with those grotesque steak-slab hands, moaning something about his mother!

God knows what he did with my body...

I mean for fuck sake, I wasn’t his fucking mother!

But I digress; it’ a bit late now...

Oh! There’s a light! Okay, forget what I said earlier.

‘AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!’

Letterbomb by Solomon Blaze

This has got to be faster than the speed of sound...I think as I carve my way through the atmosphere, back to Scabhampton. It takes less than two minutes for me to arrive; you can always smell it when you enter my hometown – and I mean really smell it.

- Which is lucky, because it doesn’t look like it did when I left...three days ago...

Hovering above the streets at this height, I can easily make out the centre of town; an epic riot has broken out. I follow the stream of bedlam beneath me and quickly realise that the entire town is ablaze with the fires of what I have to believe is more than just frenzied chaos.

‘Holy shit!’ I shout to the wind.

~ Wow, I guess Shane was telling the truth... ~ Echo chimes through the walls of my mind.

‘But...’ I pause, absorbing the distant site of my home being ransacked – My home! I think, shuttling my thoughts into a torrent of paranoid horror; shuttling myself half a mile across the sky to my own neighbourhood.

My house is as untouched; thank fuck!

I drop myself onto the concrete in front of my driveway with a thud and flash round to the back door; I can’t see anyone and the sliding door is obviously locked, so I telekinetically smash the glass pane –

- Penn steps out from behind the fridge the second I step over the threshold, brandishing a bread knife and screaming like a banshee – for a second, before realizing it’s me and dropping the knife on the tiled floor, looking absolutely flabbergasted, ‘Brother!’ he yells, running towards me and constricting me with his manual worker’s arms, ‘we were sure you had to be dead!’ he carries on, holding me at arm’s length to get a good look at me; has it really only been three days...?

Ignoring all of the truly important factors here, I say ‘Penn, what’s happened to the city? Where is everyone?’

‘The others are all upstairs. I stayed down here voluntarily....Do you seriously not know what’s going on...?’ Penn looks puzzled.

‘No!’ I shout desperately, flaying my arms to the side like this is some young couple’s hysterical argument.

‘They know dude...’ Penn says cryptically, ‘they know everything.’

Pure terror cascades over me with cold realization; oh, shit...

He Said He Loved Me by Solomon Blaze

‘They’re ready for you beautiful!’ shouts the stage manager through her dressing room door.

Christ, my first arena gig and I’m sold out! Ivy thinks with ecstasy, as she snorts another line...of ecstasy.

‘Aaah!’ she hisses at herself in the heavily lit mirror, sniffing a glob of crystals down the back her left nostril and wincing with pleasure at the Drip’s aftertaste; she rubs her gums to make sure she gets all the expensive goodness.

‘Who’s the man?!’ Ivy shouts at her reflection.

She smashes the mirror with a numb fist as she feels the rush of the hit, ‘WOOOOOOO!’

Ivy thought of her ex fiancé briefly, wondering what he would do - providing she hadn’t killed the abusive coward three nights ago – if his drunken, feckless, fat ass could see her now...

...I’m so fucking glad he’s not alive to be here. She said to herself conclusively, winking at herself in the mirror.

Barricades by Solomon Blaze

‘No’ ‘avin’ seconds though’s are ya’?’ asked Dakar, nudging Vann in the side with his war club.

Vann looks at Dakar with obvious disdain, why did they even send this guy? I told them, I can handle this on my own.

‘Jus stay outta’ my way Dak. Only jump in if – for some yet incomprehensible reason – I get into trouble.’

‘Wha’ever,’ Dakar said before spitting off the edge of the cliff.

At the bottom of the hundred foot drop; a gargantuan plane of dry white dirt, with heat waves billowing up from the cracks on its surface. Roughly twenty miles into the distance; the Crimson Militia and Cobalt Forces, each dressed in their respective colours. Even further past the endless horde; The Tower and their current objective: break through the ceiling of The Tower and see if the legends are true – because if they’re not, than the past five years really have been for nothing; and we’re all fucked...

The sky was a beautiful mid-morning green; the yellow and blue Suns both hanging low on the horizon, reflecting off the moving barricade’s multicoloured armour in a psychedelic fashion.

Roughly ten thousand men on the ground, maybe five thousand in the air, Vann thought to himself as he scanned the enemy, with the kind of precision that comes from either practice, or powers.

Is this seriously the best that the “King of Unison” can throw at me?

‘Right, I’m off.’ said Vann, clenching his fist and leaping from the edge of the canyon, spreading his arms out wide as he plummets down, savouring the taste and feel of the wind running across his skin, before flipping himself over to land with his feet flat on the brittle, bone-dry ground, sending a torrent of rubble upwards and back down again, crumbling to pieces and covering Vann in a thick cloud of sand-dust. His legs quivered slightly then settled after the shock subsided.

From where Vann stood now the ivory white dirt took on the lime green hue of the sky; afternoon Twilight they called it; something you only got in the dessert. Against the colourful horizon, the colourful soldiers were but a colossal silhouette.

Vann started running. He broke into a full-throttle sprint within a split second, the atmosphere roaring past his ears as he tore across the landscape.

The Militias were close enough now to make out in detail; metallic blue helmets with Triceratops horns and a folded steel sword in each hand, accompanied shining rouge chest plates bearing Lions, Tigers and Bears, each with its own cleaver and parrying tanto. Vann felt the familiar anxious uncertainty and couldn’t help but marvel at the King’s ability to unite all peoples under one banner.

~ That sure is a lot of enemies ~ said the imaginary voice in Vann’s head.

I’m not scared...said Vann to the voice.

‘I’m not scared...’ he whispered aloud to himself – not that he could hear it at this speed.

Now it was time.

Vann launched himself the rest of the way towards the stampede of hatred that hurtled itself towards him, letting out a tremendous and desperate battle cry as he dove into the fray;

Fist raised;

Heart pounding;

Soul on fire...

Flesh and Bone by Solomon Blaze

She is so fucking gorgeous; my gorgeous girl...

I hate that fucking prick: the guy in the window, who’s eating the face off my ex.

That fucking bitch...whore...I sniff and wipe the snot on the worn sleeve of the jacket she gave me, I wish I could end this...I clutch my chest as if reaching for my soul; as if there’s anything left to reach for anymore...

I cock the revolver; let’s end this...

My steps across the road from the beach front feel heavy – they see me through the window before I’m halfway way; panic flashes across her face and frustrated fury on his...

Despite the warning, he takes a surprisingly long time to answer the door – ya’ lose sight as you come up to the front door, so I figured they had to freaking out; I feel myself get a little turned on...

We – he and me - end up answering the at the door at the same time...or maybe he was watching me the whole time, either way, I put the gun straight to his forehead, silencing the fucker with shock, you’ll get a real fuckin’ shock inaminute mate; proper Horror Show like...

My new best friend and I waltz into the living room together – no need to close the door, this’ll be over soon enough – and my ex, my beautiful, horse faced ex girlfriend, screams her shrill fucking head off...for about three quick seconds, before I bust a cap in the bitches left knee cap – then she really starts to holler!

‘WHAT ARE YOU DOIIIING?!?!’ the whore screams at the top of her church-girl lungs.

‘What does it fucking look like?!’ I shout back sarcastically, with the biggest grin I’ve had on my face for months.

‘Please don’t do this Mikey!!’ shouts the very daring companion of our young – five years older than I – little bitch.

I turn to him.

‘What, the fuck did you just call me?’ I say through gritted teeth, with the crazy eyes.

‘Nothing...’ he says looking to the floor like a mongrel that’s just been shouted at for jumping on the sofa.

I whirl round suddenly and confront my nemesis/saviour, ‘WHY DID YOU DO IT?!’ I bellow, with high pitched and desperate cry.

‘I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!’ she screams...

...

......

.........

‘WHAT?!’ I shriek.

‘What am I supposed to have done...?’ she squeaks timidly; she’s pissed herself; yes!

...I spend what feels like five lifetimes, just looking into those vast, colourless pools of nothing; she really has no clue what I’m talking about...

...everything I am, was and every could be, has just faded to nothing in that single moment, she has no idea, I repeat over and over again in my head, flabbergasted at how completely and utterly vapid she is...

‘Fuck this,’ I say to the ceiling, ‘and fuck you,’ I say, turning back to my end ...

In goes the gun and out goes the bullet, out through the other end of all the most precious Flesh and Bone in my entire body...

...darkness...a crazy and euphoric dream...

...I don’t think there’s a God...

...a tear...

:

:

:

Cherry Cola by Solomon Blaze

Arthur ‘Silvertongue’ O’malley sits in the reception to an executive meeting room, halfway to the top of a 1980’s New York City skyscraper – 1981 to be exact.

These buildings always look the same, he thinks with an exhausted arrogance that most people perceive as charisma – for a short time at least, but is really just the result of too many people telling you that you’ve got ‘it’.

The rest of the Mad Men are sat in a stereotypical square of black-tie suite and faux leather, cherry lipstick red chair. The smell of brand perfumes permeates the air that fills the entire 28th floor; young, hopeful women pass back and forth – the ‘real Mad Men are far too important to be down here, with this lot.

One of the girls catches Archie and his crooked smile; she winks and blows him a kiss, then saunters off with the rest of them.

Another young woman opens the door to the meeting room, ‘Arthur O’malley?’ she calls out in a nasaly voice, scanning over each of the men with matching crew cuts.

Her lips are the same cherry red as the chairs.

‘That’s me.’ Arthur says with a dirty grin, standing up in that effortlessly catlike way and making his way across the reception; the other candidates size him up, comparing his bog-standard look to their own.

‘The Executive Producers will see you now,’ says the woman.

Archie steps over the threshold and into the zone.

The young woman with lips like smack to his eyes closes the door behind him, taking a seat beside three men, each maybe a decade or two older than Arthur and dressed in similar suites, save for the odd pinstripe here and there, with slicked back, crew cut hair.

‘Whenever you’re ready, Mister...,’ the eldest of the men says, looking closely at his clipboard, ‘O’malley?’

Knock 'em dead kid, Archie tells himself.

‘Lady and gentlemen of The Coca-Cola Company, without any ado whatsoever, allow me to guide you, through on a journey to the prodigal son of carbonated soft-drinks, and the saviour from the clutches of the dreaded New Coke Incident ,’ - he could tell, they were already hypnotized. He quickly whips The Poster - aah, thank god for The Poster – out of the tanned leather portfolio and props it up on the chair that was obviously meant for him, ‘I present to you; Cola-Cola Cherry, or as I like to call it, Cherry Coke!’

Slowly, the Executive Producers smile and begin to nod their heads, that each has a grotesquely smug smile painted upon it, as though they called all see 32 years into the future of their company.

Dark Paradise by Solomon Blaze

Singapore.

01:17am.

January 1st 1993.

I’m sat at an empty table, in an empty restaurant, on the 56th floor of a 75 story hotel, that I, fucking, hate; eating an extremely tiny chocolate cake, that, I, fucking, love!

The bottom 5 floors are positively jam-packed with businessmen of the orient (dirty gangsters; 369 gang, specifically) - I’m from a little place called England, maybe you’ve heard of it?

‘Lee, I could hear your clumsy footsteps the second you stepped foot out of the elevator. What do you want?’ I say abruptly to Lee: my closest friend (the only person at work that I genuinely trust). Lee is Chinese, the same as everybody else hear, save for a few Malaysians here and there.

Of course Lee stops dead, bows quickly – it always looks more like a tilt in my opinion – and walks right up to my table, with an everlastingly resilient politeness.

‘Sir,’ he says in Cantonese, ‘Three, Oh, and Three, from the 303 gang have...arrived.’

Rage froths my mind into a flickering frenzy that I quickly push back into my stomach, with a deep breath that I can’t help but turn to a growl upon exhalation, ‘what is that supposed to mean?’ I demand in Cantonese through gritted teeth.

Lee’s body shifts slightly; I revolt Lee.

‘Sir I-‘

‘No.’ I answer flat out.

‘Sir?’

‘I told Him I wasn’t working tonight; no work Christmas weekend; no work New Years Eve or Day.’

‘I have been instructed by him personally, to inform you that you will be rewarded the usual 200% bonus for High Jobs on a holiday, as well as a paid one month vacation.’ Lee says without turning his gaze from my eyes once; this is why I trust Lee.

I feel a little better about the whole situation after that; I won’t lie to you.

Sigh, ‘go on then Lee, one for the New Year and all that eh?’ I say in English with a crooked smile.

‘I’m sticking to my “no S&M” rule this year,’ Lee says in a perfectly natural American accent and the usual Wong Wink – name never fails to make me laugh.

‘Right then!’ I declare, slamming my pals down on the table after my last bite of cake, jumping up from my chair, and throwing on my jacket and holster, ‘let’s go make some money.’

Lee Loads his Glock 32, ‘Right on bruh,; another wink – ting!

We walk side by side to the elevator, strutting all the way; you’d think we had springs in our shins.

Christ, I love this job. I think as I admire the handsome Devil in the mirrored surface of the lift doors.

Exit Wounds by Solomon Blaze

The sky is so beautiful.

The sun is bright; hot on my face.

The grass is green; the refreshing scent of morning dew in the crisp, clean air.

:

:

:

- SMACK!

Derik - dark hair, caramel skin, bourbon eyes, blood soaked features - jolts awake with a horrifying shock, tied to a wooden chair and surrounded by the smell of rot and death, ‘What the fu-‘

- SMACK!!

Darkness and spots, Christ, what the fuck is going on, where the fuck am I?!

Derik’s eyes open themselves cautiously, with fear-filled anticipation and looks into the eye of the gun holding him hostage. The gun lowers it’s gaze, revealing the one person Derik had expected – and hoped not – to see: Jason.

Oh fucking hell…

‘J-Jason…I’msosorryJasonpleasedon’tdothis, I’M SORR-‘

Jason - dark hair, crooked nose, cold, colourless eyes - cocks the gun, ‘Shut, the fuck, up, Derik.’ He says in a nervously disgusted way.

‘Jason, pleas-‘

‘SHUT UUUUP!!!’ Screams Jason as he tries to shove the killer into Derik’s soul.

Derik cries.

Derik is hysterical; snot pouring out of his nose, tears streaming.

Derik gets a hard punch round the temple that makes his whole body ring with pain.

Derik groans. ‘Why?’ he whimpers like a dying dog.

Jason scoffs his laughter, ‘why?! Are you seriously fucking asking me why? WHY DO YOU FUCKIN’ THINK?!’

‘…it’s her right…?’

Another punch, this time in the stomach.

…gasping for breath Derik coughs up blood and feels true terror – taking this opportunity to scan his surroundings; it’s an abandoned asylum – the ‘Kraken Asylum for the Clinically Insane’ to be exact; I’m going to die here, aren’t I…here, really…?

The asylum is covered in rust, dirt, blood, graffiti and god only knows how many bodily fluids, dried and stained over the many years of empty isolation. The walls are a horrible grey – or would be if not for the tapestry of disease that makes up the decoration, there’s a dripping coming from somewhere behind Jason, meat hooks hang from the ceiling, swinging tauntingly with the draft that seems to whisper, ‘run…’

The sobbing starts.

Jason’s fuse blows. ‘I WILL SHOOT YOU IN THE HEAD IF YOU DON’T SHUT UP!’

Warmth spreads across the inside of his jeans; he’s shit and pissed himself, Oh God…

‘Jay, you have to believe me,’ chokes Derik in desperation, ‘I never laid a finger on her, I w-‘

‘And I’m supposed to just believe you?!’ barks Jason in frenzied outrage – he feels nausea to the point of vomiting…

Jason Vomits. All over Derik’s lap, leaning on his knees for support.

– BANG!!

The gun accidentally fires, causing both men to throw themselves instinctively away from the blast; Jason skidding on his back, the sting of rusty grit tearing its way through his jacket and skin. Derik has flung himself backwards, cracking the back of his head on the decrepit concrete floor.

A small cloud of dust has gathered around Derik. Jason is no stranger to the man’s sickening skills; with the gun still in his hands, he moves to kill a man he once loved, because of a woman he once loved.

Stepping over the helpless Derik, who writhes in pathetic agony, Jason cocks the gun, loading another bullet into the canon he carries, sticks the thing back where it belongs.

Derik stares into Jason’s eyes, those cold, condemning eyes, and feels his own pain reflected back at him, I did this…I deserve this…, he lies to himself.

‘Any last words, you backstabbing piece of shit cunt?’ Jason says definitively.

Derik tries to look through the rage and suffering; through to the soul of a man whom was once such a sweet boy, and says, ‘I’m g-‘

- BANG!!!

But there is no sweet boy; there is nothing anymore, nothing of a life that did so little to cause so much chaos, just blood; blood and loss...

...Jason’s breathing is shallow and rapid, as he starts to realize exactly what he’s done, ‘what?!’ he shouts to the faceless mess beneath his stature...but there is no answer, there never will be again.

‘What?! WHAT?! WHAT WERE YOU GONNA’ SAY?!?’

Derik’s skull has been blown away by the force of a Dessert Eagle, stolen from a father by a grief crazed son.

Jason cries.

‘I didn’t mean for this...’ he spits through flooded orifices, ‘I just...I...’

Jason wails, then vomits all over the decimated remains of a life long forgotten, that he now cradles in his arms like a still born baby;

Sobbing;

Whimpering;

Dying............................................................