The Whisperer in The Darkness

So close.

But a hair's breadth away from absolute enlightenment. What would you have done?
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Reality is a fragile thing. Fragile and complex. Subject to the whims of entities far beyond our conception.

We crawl in the dirt and the mud, we cry out for companionship into the darkness and mourn our eternal loneliness. And have the arrogance to assume that we, hairless pink primates perched on a tiny rock, part of a minor galaxy set in a fairly desolate and unimportant part of this vast and unknowable Universe, have the ability to comprehend reality?

The sheer hubris of it. A curious kind of solipsism, is it not?

I long ago accepted the truth. I hold no more illusions about myself or those who I once called brethren anymore.

Creation is the most cruel joke that has ever been played. What could exceed the malevolence of placing sentient beings born with an innate need to search for meaning, in a cage bereft of any?

This is a story of truth, dear reader. Think me not a nihilist. I have merely seen the light, cast as it was by a hideously gibbous source, it is a realization that is almost entirely removed from sanity.

Almost.

Who I am is unimportant.

What matters is this story.
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"Thank God!" I say to myself. After years of toil and hardship, I had finally done it. My name would go down in the annals of archaeology for all time. My achievement lauded for its worth and its significance taught to children centuries after I am long dust.

In my hands, undeniable proof of the existence of a civilization that predates the Harappan and Egyptian societies by millennia. Eons even.

A stone statuette, of exquisite craftsmanship and design. Made by hands and tools that are far too skilled and subtle to suggest anything but a creator of utmost ability, and unprecedented capability for a time so far removed in the past.

Truly, the mind boggles. And not in the least, because of the strangeness of the statuette itself.

Made of a dark material, very much like onyx or basalt, yet still not readily identifiable. Perhaps it is an element that is no longer found on Earth? A line of questioning to be followed up at a later time.

The most intriguing facet of the artifact is its design. I cannot begin to identify its subject matter. Was it made as an effigy to honor and worship a god of some dead religion? That could be so, evidenced by the intricacy of the detail and the strange markings carved into the base of the statuette.

I decided to carry forward with this theory, until something more valid presented itself.

The figure depicted by the artifact was truly well represented, despite me having absolutely no clue what it was. A bizarre, nightmarish conjugation bearing no similarity to any animal I have seen, or any one else I'd wager. It stood upright on two legs, and seemed vaguely humanoid, but there the similarity ended.

A face composed of a mass of tentacles writhing about. A skeletal body with skin stretched over a frame that did not echo the normal rib-cage structure of mammals at all but rather seemed composed of bits of bone and sinew oddly strewn about its insides, grotesquely bulging in some places and concave in others. Legs ending in clawed feet that gripped the base of the statuette firmly.

And the eyes were the most unsettling part, seeming black and empty at first, on closer inspection, inset with gemstones of a similarly non - identifiable origin as the rest of the statuette. These gems were black of hue and flecked with specks, seeming like the night sky. On gazing into them, I was reminded of the cold black vastness of space, of unknowable reaches and incomprehensible dimensions far transcending the feeble circle of light that extends beyond earth...

And suddenly I catch myself.

"Where did that last bit come from?" I think. Those thoughts didn't seem like they'd originated from me. On closer rumination, they didn't seem like words I'd even say. A cold shiver ran through me, and with great unease and trepidation I put the statuette away for the moment.

"Need some sleep."

That was surely it, it had just been too much work and too many late nights. But at last, the fruit of my efforts revealed and well in hand, I could finally get a decent nights rest.

"Time for bed then."

I place the statuette in a protective casing, designed to secure it from the worst of the elements on its transport from my dig site to a facility where it could properly be carbon - dated, studied and examined in greater detail.

I take my glasses off, and rub my eyes, wiping the exhaustion of a long day and settle into bed.
I was hopeful, I'll admit it.
"Things are starting to look up." I say to myself, in the vague fugue state between sleep and dreams.

If only I had known how wrong I was.
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I cannot honestly describe what happened next. It is forever shrouded in uncertainty by the sheer strangeness of what occurred and the surreal, almost unreal nature of dreams.

All I can remember is an unending experience of sheer horror and panic. I was set upon by the darkest of fears, hounded by the most aberrant of creatures, killed and returned to life only to be tortured again to the grave, to wait for the cycle to be repeated eternally. All of this in instants that seemed like centuries to my minds eye.

And the worst part? I could give no voice to anything I had to say. Throughout this eternal torment, this hell of incessant pain, I could not scream.

For I had no mouth.

Imagine it. Trapped for an eternity in the deepest and darkest nightmares of mankind, and I was denied even the simplest expression of my suffering.

It was then that reality began to break down, and I began to see things clearer.
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I woke up covered in sweat, with a blood curdling scream resounding in my ears, and it took me the longest time before I realized that I was its source.

My throat rattled as my vocal cords refused to put up with any more abuse and the scream was abruptly cut off.

I took no action for a while then, except to breathe and shudder, calming and reassuring myself that I had not lost all sanity.

I was never a man to put faith in the supernatural, but whatever had just happened had shaken my convictions to their very core. Perhaps not all was as tranquil and logical as it seemed with the universe.

And somehow, I knew the reason for this, to be the discovery of the statuette.

I rose from the bed, still covered in my own sweat, and moved shakily to the casing which held the artifact. I slowly uncovered it, moving warily as in fear of the inanimate object striking out at me.

And indeed when I gazed at it, I knew something was wrong. In the dim of night, the statuette seemed to drink in the darkness. Right into those maddening eyes, voids of depth beyond comprehension.

And just as my nerve broke and I thought to put the statuette away, for I could not keep looking at it without the most absolute animal terror and panic coursing through my body, defying all logic, reason, understanding and education, the Elder One spoke to me, in a voice that was kin to the dying of galaxies and the collapsing of stars.

IT CAN BE YOURS.

I am beyond fear now, moving into the realm of madness. My body no longer obeys my commands, numb to the will of the mind that animates it.

I ask into the ether, "Who are you?" knowing that some greater power was at play here and now. This was no longer the realm of ordinary mortals.

AZATHOTH. 

As the name entered my consciousness, I was suddenly pressed upon by a multitude of impressions, each of them more horrifying than the last.

Of a dark and monstrous place in the far reaches of the Cosmos, where the Elder Ones hold court.

In that amorphous blight of netherwordly confusion where chaos and destruction breed in infernal and eternal cycles.

In the hideous nuclear chaos that bubbles beyond the confines of angled space, in that place of ultimate contradiction, far removed from our reality, but still central to all that exists, is where he waits.

The Lurking Horror, he who created the Universe, and must slumber forevermore. He rests now, gnawing on the edges of reality, eternally embroiled in restless sleep.

In the inconceivable and unlighted chambers that lie beyond time and space, he lies forever unconscious, lulled to sleep by the music of the spheres and the song of the stars, surrounded by his uneasy Pantheon.

For if he were to wake, there would no longer be worlds or Gods.

I, AM THE DESTROYER.

And with that, all that I had known, loved and thought true, shattered to a million shards within me. I was broken. My mind a ruined wreck, reeling from the revelations I had just witnessed.

For there was no comprehending the truth, without any mortal mind shrinking from it in terror and collapsing on itself, in rebellion of the true malevolence of existence, and the false idol that we call, Free Will.

All of us, are but playthings for Him.

I cannot, will not say his name. For I am too afraid.

He dreams, and in his dreams, he subverts the reality he has bestowed upon us. Creatures of consciousness, we are but the maggots that feed upon the fetid meat of space and time.

The universe is a corpse, His body that extends beyond infinity and eternity.

A rotting and infernal corpse that is home to an innumerable number of nameless horrors. We are insects, born to be fed on and toyed with at the pleasure of entities so primordial they defy understanding.

IT CAN BE YOURS.

I scream now, my words an unintelligible shriek of madness and pain, almost no longer human. For this creature, this glorious and horrifying God - thing, sound was but a hindrance. Reaching past me, into the substance of my being itself, he shows me what could be mine.

RISE.

I rise to my feet. There are no longer any tears, words or screams left in me. Whatever I am now, is no longer human.

In my last mortal act, I nod my head, and step forward into His embrace.

I leave who I am, and this forsaken reality behind me.

So close.

But a hair's breadth away from absolute enlightenment. What would you have done?
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Then Before,Now Once More

She is there,now.

She is always there.

My damnation.


My own screams fill the air,as I wake up.


Sealed.


Trapped.


Death is only the beginning.


I am in soil.

I am in dust.


I inhale my own decay as I watch myself shrivel and dissipate.


Years.Centuries?

An Age.


I am Mourned.

I am Remembered.

I am Faded Memory.

I am Nothing.


*************************************************

I have stumbled upon something.

By true accident or by the machinations of the Gods,I have discovered something truly magnificent,


No,not the the Gods.This is their most terrible secret,their greatest strength.


Older.


In all my years,I have never seen such Magik.This tomb reeks of it,the very air is heavy with it.


The laborers are all dead.They had to be silenced.There was too much at stake.

It is only Adrienne and I now,she is my only companion,through the final steps of this journey.And a finer companion,there is none.In the outside world,we draw enough Magik from the earth for cheap tricks and conjure tiny flickers of flame from our finger tips.Here we are able to apply the old and Ancient schools,not just the elemental.

Already she is channeling it better than I.She managed to trap the workers in the anti chamber,sealed the doorway shut.


Graveyards always had more Magik in them,the departed life force seeped into the earth and festered there,but not enough,never enough.


But we found a way to get more, an unlimited amount.She taught me how,using the Magik in the tomb,we probed inside the anti chamber with our minds.And inside,in our melded conscious,we felt the floating tendril of a soul.We tugged,slowly and lightly,for that was all we could muster.

We tugged and it unraveled.

O What a feeling!The surge of energy,the power!We consumed it and were drunk on its infinite power!


We didnt need any form of sustenance for months!We grew fat in our aura,in the other plane.


But even as we grew in power,our bodies were failing us.Years had passed,Time showed us no mercy.


We turned to a dangerous path.


An older school.


Deep in the tomb,in the darkest corner,it came to me.Hidden within its walls.


Knowledge.


We would reach into the Veil,and bind Death to our will.


The preparations are complete.


*************************************************


It is done.

The arcane ritual thrust into the emptiness of the Veil and bound death in its physical form,powerless and enslaved.


It took the form of a little girl,no more than eight or nine.Skin like porcelain,midnight hair.But her eyes were old and deep,dark with malice.

We told her the cost of her freedom and she laughed,high and screeching,it carried into the deep of the tomb and deep into my heart.I felt it clasp me and I felt true fear.

But she agreed,at the cost of a sacrifice.

Adrienne turned to me to speak,and I slit her through with my silver dagger. Her blood sprayed across the floor as she crumpled onto the ground.

Death laughed once more,she flickered and faded into the darkness.


A voice boomed in the darkness


"DEATH IS ONLY THE BEGINNING"


I have been deceived.


*************************************************


It has been six and twenty years since that dark night.My time is coming to an end.I used my power to gain favor and money and women,but it has cost me much.

The mob gathers outside,they have heard much of things I have had to do to maintain my power.So many sacrificed.

Once I left the tomb,the Magik drained quickly.I was addicted to it,so I tried to get more.

Like a candle sputtering to the dark,I am Empty.

Death is only the beginning.

I will face her one last time.


I used the last of it.A dark,unnatural storm brewed outside.

I reached back into the Veil and cast upon this mortal plane,the Shadow of Death.

I wanted to laugh at her one last time,remind her that a mere mortal had such power over her.


The Ritual Circle flickered to life,as the Kings Men were banging at the door.


It burst open and I turned to see them charg at me.


I looked back to mock Death before she claimed me.


My own screams filled the room as I stared at her.Even as the axes and swords hacked and slashed at my mortal flesh,I couldn't take my eyes of her.


Adrienne.


*************************************************


My own screams fill the air,as I wake up.


I have conquered Death.


I am more than Mortal.


I am a Damned God.





She is there,now.

She is always there.











My damnation.

23

He woke up to the smell of her hair filling his lungs and the tickle of her soft hair against his lips.


He didnt want to open his eyes,he wanted this moment to last forever.


He smiled in his daze and wrapped his arm tighter around her,pulling her closer,not wanting to share her with the world.


She replied by elbowing him in the chest,breaking free and rolling back to sleep.

His eyes flew open to the dark room around him.There was nothing.

He closed his eyes again,screwed them shut and tried to will himself back to sleep.


Already the wisps of his dream were being blown away in the cold light of day.


Still,he reached.Grabbing at the nothingness as he squeezed too tight and it all faded away to memory.


He shook it off,the dust of sleep.


He got up gingerly.

He could still smell her hair.


He still remembered when he saw her.


As she stood at the doorway, with so many people around her.


As they all milled about going about their daily lives,and he couldnt understand.


Did they not see her? How could one look at her and keep walking? Curse the gods that brought her down,and set her amongst us.So far away from the heavens to which she belonged.


So many people,but for him there was only her.And she was perfect. Looking at her fa


This is so unhealthy for me.


I want to go on,and everything I want to say is so damn perfect. Every syllable could break walls and end lives. But I've come so far,done so much.


Sometimes I feel like i should just walk away.


But everytime I get too far,each step I take becomes heavier.


I am a drowning man,an anchor at my feet.And everytime,as i prepare for the cold bite of the ocean to fill my lungs,she breathes life into me again.


This is my fate.


I hate writing about love.

Eternal

An unremarkable white powder, in an even more unremarkable plastic sachet. Used for illicit substance containment everywhere in the world. Could have been anything from coke to crystallized LSD.

Just another day, just another high.

Or so I thought.

I emptied the contents of the packet on the table, and with motions that are purely muscle memory by now, divide the white heap into three neat lines.

"Three lines man. Is all you'll need. You'll be high forever."

I sniffed, readying myself for the warm embrace of dissociation. I lowered my nose to the table and insufflated a line, heart racing. The only time I ever truly feel alive now. I feel the drugs making their way through my membranes. That agonizing yet soothing burn. I sit back and wait.

Only to feel nothing. 

Tilting my head at the offending substance, I frown. Not even a buzz? 

I think back to my encounter with the dealer.

=============================================================================================

A slight, unremarkable man. Another nameless, faceless entity in the human morass. Nothing to distinguish him from anyone else. He seemed harmless, if weasely. All in all, your typical dealer.

And then I met his eyes. Black as night, filled with the promise of malice and cunning. This man was dangerous. Extremely so. He just didn't let people know. I shivered, and in that moment, the perception I'd had of him faded away, to be replaced by the carefully constructed persona. 

"Whatchoo looking to buy?"

"The usual man."

"Naw man, I'm all out of bump. I've got this other stuff though. It's freaking killer. Three lines man. Is all you'll need. You'll be high forever."

"What? Stop fucking around man. I need some bump."

"Nigga, are you listening to me? I GOT NO COKE. What I do have, is this stuff, called Eternal. It's new. You don't want any, keep moving."

"Jesus Christ man. Okay, sure. Whatever. It'll get me high right?"

"Oh yeah. High as a freaking kite." he said, as he began rummaging in his various pockets for the product. 

He fishes out a baggie, half filled with white powder, presents it to me for inspection.

"First line, you won't feel much."

"Second line, you'll start feeling things. Wonderful things." He pauses, as if doubtful about continuing.

"And? The third line?"

He shrugs then, and moves to collect the cash I give him.

"If you make it past the second, you'll find out."

=============================================================================================

The memory recedes, and suddenly I'm back in the present again.

I shrug, and move to snort the second line.

I lower my nose to the table, more intent on the experience this time, intent on squeezing every drop of high I can. I snort a line, and as suddenly as that, I am no longer tethered to my earthly cage.

"Jeeeeeeeesuuuuuuussssssss Chriiiiiiiiiissssssttttttttttt" I manage to moan around the pleasure that threatens to suffocate me. How do I describe it?

=============================================================================================

Pulsating waves of ecstasy that emanate from the core of my being. Colors, lights, sounds and senses. Nothing makes sense but all is revealed. I am floating, I am nothing, I am everything.

For an eternity, painfully reduced to quantifiable moments, I trip. 

When I trip, I am God. There is nothing that constrains me, nothing that is beyond my ability. Creation and destruction are but meaningless archetypes in the realm of the mind. Existence is the only thing that matters. Persistence. Consciousness. These are the things that....

=============================================================================================

And just as suddenly as it had come, the warm blanket of the high is ripped away from my fragile form. 

I am brought back to this cruel and cold plane of existence. Shivering from the intensity of an experience that could have begun an eon ago.

I feel no crash, no down, just a mindless urge to continue that wonderful trip. I lower my nose to the table, and right before I snort the final line my mind wanders to his parting words.

"If you make it past the second, you'll find out."

Down the rabbit hole I go then.

I barely feel the drug, the Eternal, this time, as it makes its way through me. All I can feel is the mind-numbing bliss of it in me. My body lies limp in the chair, and I feel the chains on me melting away. I am free once again.

=============================================================================================

And so I wander the ethereal plains, the starlit fields of madness and wonder. Man is a creature terrifyingly confined to his earthly shell. He fears and refuses the aspect of himself that threatens to shatter all the bonds of civilization, not understanding that it is only his implicit acceptance of his chains that keeps him bound.

All truths are known to me, all lies exposed, all flaws perfected. There is nothing but the serene and the tranquil within the maelstrom of chaos. Entropy is what shall free us all in the end. 

=============================================================================================

And so my trip continued, reaching forward into things not yet occurred, and harking back to the shadows of things already past. I floated for an eternity, free of all the filth of existence.

Until a single disquieting thought came to me.

"Who am I?"

The cold silence that met the question, was the most terrifying thing I had ever experienced. I could no longer recall who I was. 

"I?"

"What?"

Even the questions seemed to make less sense with every passing moment, in that timeless void. Conscious thought seemed futile here, unnecessary. A part of me, whatever that was, longed to just give up and lose myself in the unending ecstasy. 

"NO!"

I felt someone else scream, felt the struggles of someone else entirely. I was so close now, almost to the end. The warm glow had faded away to be replaced by an infinitely deep darkness. And as my identity receded, the single point of light that I called myself dimmed, almost going out.

"I...am..."

The last thing I saw, as my consciousness dwindled away, was an infinite sea of lights in that terrible darkness, revealed for what it was. The last emotion I felt was horror, as I understood what I and so many others had given ourselves over to. 

The Eternal Darkness took me, and I was no more.

Of Mortals and Gods Part II - Fury and Hellfire

Solid ground.

There was nothing more important in a fight, in a battle.

Solid ground...


It had been a few days since the last rain, but the sky was overcast now. My armor lay on the ground, I was in leather and a breastplate. I was quicker than most, my blade was lighter and shorter, allowing for quick short strikes.

My brother was covered in steel,his axe glistening in the dying light.

He already looked tired.

But he was a beast,a man born for days like today. A swing of his axe,the smell of blood and the monster inside him would rise and wreak havoc.

We needed that monster today.

There were six of us, among these dark hills. We were not soldiers, like the legions we had fought. We were warriors, fortune seekers. We sought fame and glory, to etch our names eternal.


Not today.


Would it rain?That giant oaf would get bogged down and drown in the mud if it rained. Fool, to wear such armor on this day.

I slipped my dagger into its sheath, as the wind gathered pace.Thunder rolled and rumbled as the cauldron threatened to tip over and spill it's fell contents on us all.

There was no glory to be found today. We were a footnote in history, an inconsequential moment beyond the lives of its witnesses. 

The World was rebelling against this unholy moment.


I stole a glance at cavern we were facing and its infinite darkness.The mouth was large enough for three man to stand. That, of course, didn't mean anything.We were not facing men.


The sun was dying, the last of its light leaking away into the dark.


And when it disappears over the crest of the horizon, it would be reborn behind the Veil.


Twilight. 

The haunting dark approaches, the porous nature of the hour exposes the worlds beyond for a moment too long.


Today, when the sun sets, the Daemons will send their most foul to this plane. What would happen if we lost?What were we fighting for?The Gods had decided for us, they had made the pact and sent us here to kill or die.

Tough armor,tough to kill.The most damned amongst men were granted eternal bloodlust in service of the Shadow.


Daemon or not, they bleed all the same.

They die,just as much.


I stood up, and the rest of them followed.It was nearly time, we could smell it in the air.The oaf had dumped most of his armor now, he had gone with just the shield instead. He glanced at me and gave me his lopsided, stupid smile.


I drew my sword and my dagger.I faced the cavern, with the sun to my back. The last of its fading light blew its red kiss over the horizon as a purple flash of lightning cut through the sky and the first of the rain pattered against the steel of my armor.



A flash of blue light and everything stops. I cannot move. The world is suspended.The lightning still rips across the sky,like the scar left by a wild beast,a ghostly hand reaching across the dark luminescent sky.The rain is hanging all around us,almost like it is teasing me to reach out and touch it,always beyond my reach.The entire world bathes in a dark blue light.Ahead of me,just beyond the mountain,the sun has begun to rise.Or atleast a dark blue incarnation of it.In our world it inspires happiness and joy,here it was only despair and the ripe smell of fear all around us.Far away,in the distance,a smoky Specter stands watching us.As I stare,I feel a million voices screaming inside my head,even in the dead of this world around.I cannot look away,I cannot break his Gaze.He is in me,He has taken a piece of my soul,ripped it away,corrupted it. I feel his presence clawing it's way into my brain,digging into my very essence. The screams are getting louder and louder.



I cannot break free.

I am trapped inside his hollow eyes, dark and speckled with pricks of light within the infinite darkness, like the night sky. It draws me in deeper, this empty constellation. In my heart, within the last confines of my own will, I know this to be no daemon. This is an older, more malevolent Evil.

Nameless.

Faceless.

We are doomed.

Another flash of light, and as quickly as we were taken, we were ripped away from the spell. My knees gave out from under and I heaved and retched as I tried to clear my head.The others around me were equally staggered but had begun to rise.We were back at the foot of the mountain.

The rain fell, without skipping a beat, and the smell of wet dirt filled my lungs.But underneath it was the dry taste of rotting flesh.


The darkness of the cavern was shifting with shapes.


They were leering, smoldering.


I planted my blade in the ground and rose to my feet.I drew it, and flicked the speckled mud off the end. My brother stepped forward and roared a fearsome and guttural cry of battle.He roared as the beast inside him took his body for its own.

Havoc.

The wind carried the sound of deep, dry laughter towards us from the Mouth.


They roared, as only Death could, as they ran towards.


Shadows.


Tall, dark shadows.


Monstrous, hulking beasts wearing black armor, wielding red blades in the night.


My feet pounded wet dirt as I faced my foe.


He came at me with Fury and Hellfire.


I feinted left and as he swung his hammer, I dove to the right.I rolled off the ground and stood low, with dagger holding the low guard and my sword the high. It spun around...

(Quick but ungainly.Momentum carries it off balance.Commit and attack)

...and followed with hard strikes from above.I side stepped and deflected,rather than keep my sword parallel to the ground and risk it shattering under the weight of these heavy blows.I stayed just out of reach,but it didnt tire or falter.They had no technique,relying on brute force,speed and ferocity.These traits had served them well so far.

The battle raged on around. Every now and then, from the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of red and black barreling with speed, or the flash of steel swinging in the rain. I closed myself off from it all, and focused on the monster in front of me.I felt good, quicker and stronger than usual. I was confident and surefooted in the rain as this heavy beast was getting dragged down into the mud.I had defeated him hours ago, when I made the decision to forsake my armor for speed.

It hacked and slashed and drew its great sword above its head to cleave my body in two, I jumped inside its defense, leading with my sword into its chest and followed with my dagger into the side of its neck.I pushed with all my might, even as my feet slipped in the mud, but some form of twisted, dark farce of life still hung inside its body, in its red eyes.I twisted both blades and tore them out of the side of the Hound, pouring its shadowy innards onto the green grass.


I looked up in time to see one of the Daemons crush the head of a man, helmet and all.There were four of them left and only three of us.My brother was still standing,and by the state of him I assumed he was facing his second foe.Two of them bore down on me, weary and cautious.They were trying to flank me.The last man was known to me.A good and honorable warrior, and a damn good fighter.One of his arms seemed broken and he had a large gash on his leg.He looked around in a daze and his eyes strayed upon me.He was too far for me to help him, and a Daemon was looking to finish him off.


He threw his shield onto the ground, his sword too.He backed away, slowly, towards his knapsack and pulled out a crossbow.The bolt struck the monster in the leg and it fell to its knees.The man ran at it with speed, despite the leg, but he ran only straight into the long sword of his enemy.With sword clean through his belly, a deep roar the Gods must've heard high in their Towers, he pulled out two small curved daggers from his belt and stabbed at his enemy's exposed neck until both collapsed onto each other.


They were almost on me,as I backed away,looking for a favorable position to fight from.The oaf mustve seen my predicament,and with a great blow he knocked his back,and instead of finishing him off,raced to join me.

The Hounds held off, they had the upper hand.They waited for their remaining companion to join them and kept circling us.My brother and I stood back to back, as we had done as children.I sheathed my dagger and picked up a dropped wooden shield.The blood of its previous owner was still being washed away by the rain.The fight had taken us away from the Cavern itself.We were among the rolling hills now, the grass less trampled here.


As the lightning flashed above us, I could almost see their scarred and beaten faces, their bodies tighten, their claws clench at their weapons as they planted their feet into the ground and prepared to strike.It was when the thunder began its deafening roar that they pushed off against the ground and brought their deadly weapons to bear.


Fury and Hellfire.



I had no speed,with my brother against me,but we fought as one.Parrying and striking as we were taught to as children,using each others as much we used our own own weapons.They swirled around us in a cloud of dark smoke and red flame and struck again and again without relenting.A fight of attrition as they tried beat us into the ground.We held them off,though most of it was a blur.I caught a glimpse of my brothers axe striking a Hound and bringing it down and suddenly the smoke began to clear.I cut one its hands off but it didnt seem to feel any pain and gave no respite,even as one of its swords crashed to the ground.It tried to plung it's sword into my chest,even as I stepped aside and manage to trap his remaining arm between my shield and body. I am face to face with him,close enough to my death to smell it emanating from him.The Daemon tries to rip my throat out with its teeth,but I slammed the shield into its mouth with free hands,and as it bit down,I slit its throat.

My brother stumbled and leaned forward,and I fell back as his support gave away.I rolled off his back and onto my feet and without a backward glance or a break in my step,I charged at the last remaining Hellspawn.

Quick,hard and short strikes.They hurt it but didnt bring it down.It grabbed at my shield and trapped me within its reach and brought down its sword in a long and powerful arc.I brought my sword upto protect myself,but the blow shattered it into so many fragments,I felt the power of the strike up into my arm,all the way to my neck and fell to my knees.

I stabbed at its foot and slashed its leg and sprang up as it let go of my shield.I spun around and with all my might I brought the shield around in a tight arc and smashed it to bits against the bowed head of the Hound.As it stumbled,I picked up my brothers fallen axe and brought it down on the Daemons head,splitting it in two.

As the last of them fell, the remains of the Hounds disappeared into shadow and seeped into the ground, forever staining it.


I rushed to my brother,glad to see him still alive.A flesh wound,something that shouldve been covered by his great big armor.I knelt down in front of him and smiled as he laughed.


I then pull out my dagger from its sheathe and bring it to bear down upon his skull, axe begins to hack his head off.


I scream loudly but my lips don't move.The noise is all inside my own head.I feel them curl up into a smile as the blows of the axe jarring against the bone reverberates up my arm.


As the head of my beloved brother is finally freed from his lifeless body, I raise it above my head and let the splatter of blood bathe me.


I am screaming and weeping and raging all at once but all I feel is the curl of my lips.


My head moves and my eyes fall on the still shiny breastplate of my fallen brother and as the lightening lit the world around me, I catch a glimpse of my own facing smiling maniacally up towards me.


Except in my eyes, I saw the Gaze of something older and far more dangerous than any Mortal or God.


Dead eyes,sparked with Fury and Hellfire.


Even Daemons have their Gods.


The face in the reflection mouths a Name.

Havoc.

Frontier

The dim quiet was haunting.

In the distance,the noise of a structure crumbling to the ground rumbled,traveled through the deserted megacity of Tretophysis. Most of the public had been evacuated 3 months ago,the remaining had stopped screaming a few weeks ago.

Caught in the crossfire,casualties of war.

The Federation claimed that they were fighting for the people,for democracy.Yet their guns killed civilians just as well as ours.

Democracy.A failed idea,from a fallen civilization.


The artillery fire had stopped.The Fleet had engaged the Federation frigates yesterday,caught them in the gravity of the planet,cut off their retreat.

We were ill prepared.

We didnt understand our enemy.We were fighting for a man and his throne.They were fighting for an idea.

I stepped out of the Forward Command Post.The dry wind swirled around me.All around,infantry men milled about.My armor was stifling.The sweat from my forehead stung my eyes.A single shuttle purred to life at the center of base camp,bulky and ungainly.

My staff stood behind me,quiet and resolute.The plans had been drawn up already for our last action in this forsaken planet.So much blood spilled for so little.This rock had no tactical value,no resources. Yet,here we were.

We came in with a battlecruiser,the IFS Harbinger, and a fighter escort.The planetary shield was sabotaged,brought down quickly and with almost no resistance. A fighter squadron tried to put up a defense but the Harbinger secondary battery made quick work of it.We turned the ships main artillery on the only city and followed it with a bomb run with fighters.We docked at the space port itself with no problems,took it from a handful of fighters and then began deploying troops to the surface in Mark II gunships. I was in the second wave,at the orders of Commander Wilson,as he stayed behind in the CIC to coordinate the attack.At 60% deployment,the space port simply exploded,along with the entire crew of the Harbinger and most of the Command staff.We had 2000 men,some artillery pieces,most of the armored divisions and a handful of gunships.The fighter squadron was engaged by the Federation Navy soon after.A foolhardy squadron leader thought 16 Delta fighters,4 Mark III gunships and 4 Merka Class bombers could take on 3 Federation frigates.

No air cover,no artillery,no supply lines.

We got the force field up and set up our camp and defenses around it.They couldnt get their ships artillery to break through,so they started sending down infantry divisions.We tried to take out their landing crafts but we just didnt have the firepower.We set up a defensive perimeter along our lines,prepared to soak up the pressure.We were trained Imperial soldiers.Veterans of the Xyphoran Invasion wars and insurgencies from the farthest reaches of the nation.We were battle hardened,we had superior arms,tactics and training.With no Commanding Officer,I took over the preparations.We were up against a ragtag militia,with outdated armored divisions.We would persevere.

But they were fighting for an idea.

They sent wave after wave,and we sent them back again and again.We lost 4 tanks and accompanying infantry companies because of an overzealous tank commander decided to counter attack and was cut off,enveloped and destroyed.We had to stay on the defensive,we had to hold them off until the Fleet arrived.They had no fighters,so we had some semblance of air superiority.We used our few gunships,coupled with our armored divisions to hold the stalemate.

We were no match for their overwhelming numbers.

They sent wave after wave,concentrating all their men and machines at 2 points in our lines.As the days passed,our gunships were felled and the stalemate began to crumble.A few hours before Fleet arrived,the patched up force field gave out.The shelling broke our lines and I pulled everything back.Ammunition was almost over.Most of the tanks were smoldering piles of metal while almost all the mech suits had powered down. We used jammers to hide our position from the Federation ships,the firing had been erratic and wild.

The Fleet came,but with the lone battlecruiser.They Holo'd me,told me that Command had made things clear.No Imperial soldier could retreat from a battle,no Imperial soldier could surrender.Wars were won with morale,the Federation had planned this annihilation to recruit other planets to their cause.The Imperial Command would rather see us all die than let the Galaxy know that we would give up.We would become legends and names to rally behind.They would recruit millions in the face of this cruelty by the Federation forces.

The casualties of war.

They were calling me back to be debriefed.The benefits of command.

A Staff Sergeant passed out swords to the men.The scouts had reported the enemy massing 2 clicks south. My plan called for a final charge.Get close and in the middle of them,where their guns would be too dangerous to fire.Take as many of them down with you.

A plan tailored for failure.It seemed perfect.All my other plans had failed,this one was meant to.

A pity I couldn't die with them.


The pilot ignited the repulsor engines.I shook hands with my staff,but I couldnt meet their gaze.The men stopped and stared as I entered the shuttle.Engined whined as it shuddered off the ground.I looked down at my feet as it pitched and began its ascent.

In the distance behind me,the screams of a thousand men.

The casualties of war.

Damage

You broke me
You made me invincible and you broke me
You took away everything I loved and you hurt me
Not because you cared but cus you could and that burnt me
You took your time and you looked hard but couldnt see
That all you were really hurting was you
And maybe me

So let me wrap my arms around you and keep you safe
From the world that wants you and me to fail

I was tied up protecting you from the world
Tied in protecting you from things that hurt
How blind was I,when I couldnt see
The only thing hurting you was me

Only me

Now the phone rings
You've got one last song to sing
Just when I stop and start to do my own thing

But you arent done with me,you've more pain to bring
Hooks so deep the scars burn bright as you pull and I cling
You need someone to talk to,to cry to,youve got to take one last swing

So I take my place in the firing line,cus thats where you need me to be
Always me.

Door Number 1

Somehow it seemed a bit cooler in the dark.

It really doesn't make sense.Sure,light fixtures emit a certain amount of heat.But that's not going to drastically change the temperature of a room.

I guess it was all in my head,but right now I needed to believe it was cooler with the lights off. The fans in both the rooms were spinning at max speed,pouring buckets of hot air over me. Every single window was open,hoping for even the tiniest gust of coolness to sneak in.Even the tiny bathroom window was open,but that wasn't really for the heat.

Pune. Someone told me this place was a hill station with wonderful weather.

Someone lied.

My shirt had come off hours ago,pretty much everything else followed a few minutes later.

I paced around the apartment in my underwear.

Sounds filtered in through the open windows.College kids laughed in the distant night,dogs barked at nothing and a few hours rumbled every now and then.

Most of the apartment was lit by darkness,except for the dim glow of the open laptop and an empty Word document.The desk in living room was absolutely never used for writing.It was where I dumped my keys.It also resembled a landfill that catered exclusively to McDonalds.

Writing is a lot easier than it looks. Its hard to get started.You cant force it. You need that tiny fucking seed of an idea. Something,anything.Then you take that fucking seed,pour some fucking imagination in it,a coupla flowery fucking words,end it with an M.Night Fucking Shyamalan twist and good fucking night.And its that fucking easy.After you're done,you give it up to the publishers and critics,let them rape it in the fucking eye socket a coupla times. Hopefully you'll get paid and not end up a deadbeat.

I paced around a bit more,as more of the laughter creeped in.


Fucking kids.


I heard footsteps from outside. The lights in the hallway were still on,and I could see the shadow of someones feet at the door.I froze.I felt ridiculous,standing in my underwear,afraid that someone might see me through a solid fucking door.The person paused outside for a while.I considered reaching for my scattered clothes.

A whisper,as a sheet of paper slid out from underneath the door. I sighed in relief as I realized it was just a take out menu of some sort.I ignored the paper and returned to my pacing.

I guess it was about twenty seconds later that I noticed it.

The feet were still at the door.

I was puzzled.Not scared yet,just puzzled.I walked to the door,reached down and grabbed the paper and looked through the peephole at nothing.

Nothing at all.

I stumbled back.There were no more shadows.Whomever it was, must've walked away just before I looked.

Getting some clothes on and opening the door,that didn't sound like a good idea.Because I was scared now.


I was quite scared.


I looked down at the paper,an ordinary white A4 size sheet of paper.It had a smiley face sticker in the corner.And right in the middle all it said was



Hello.



More laughter drifted in,but more muffled.It seemed to be coming from farther away now.

I reached for a pen in the mess on the desk and bit off the cap.I kneeled at doorway,paper against the door,the nib an inch off the paper.I paused.What was I doing?



Who are you?



I dropped the pen,and placed the paper on the ground.My hand was shaking.I slipped it across.

Almost immediately it came back with the slightest whisper.

Thats when I noticed it.The noise.Or the lack of it.No dogs,no cars...no kids.Not even the sound of the fan.Only a muffled a silence and a low ringing that was getting louder.I was sweating profusely.It had gotten a lot hotter.I reached for the paper.Sweat stung my eyes.

Under the cold light of the dark, I read.



Turn around.You'll see.

A little rant. For the special, a holy chant.

Sweet as a honey bee's stinger.
A composite of conventional and eccentric.
My allure can hardly be contained or linger.
Observing the fast and the reckless.
Affected by none-too many faithless.

Persistent in anguish.
Love wouldn't tarnish.
Sweet as a diabetic's last wish.

If being born in this relentless world wasn't cruel enough, this beady eyed creature had internal conflicts to be resolved. There were no demons, just the echo of their demonic screech.
They say that there is no such thing as an original idea. And in fact every thought, idea, concept or notion has been adapted, improved or redesigned from someone else's. There is no originality in consciousness. There is no originality in despair. All sadness has already been frowned upon. But not everything has been ridiculed yet....
Existence is merely the excrete of an astronomically gigantic Bos taurus ( as we are all aware of).

The protagonist strides on-wards with a burden to bare. A burden to share. But everybody has their own bundle of cry to carry. Like an ant lost among the dung beetle farm, the madcap of dance and freedom was out of place, and without taste. Of passion to stir up the motivation of self potential.
 The needful was in a dead man. A secret in his torn pocket. Along came the dead man fighting for his life. The fox heard his cry and leaped for his heart. The fox had saved him by cardiopulmonary resuscitation. And that's a plot twist that nobody is ever ready for.

In the torn pocket was a shard of mirror. Gazing upon it's own reflection, the fox found itself. The reflection of it's strength, the image of it's survival temperament. Out came the claws, the dead man was shreds...

But the story is short.
Like an Alzheimer's thought. 
All pain is illusion.
All joy is delusion. 
And your strive is the only real truth.

Thug Poetry - II

they winnin',they chillin'
they whole life stealin'
they dont give a fuck bout how we must be feelin'

drop arms boys,this aint no revolution
take turns boys,for that peaceful resolution

we thug,we tuff,we make em bleed
we slice and dice,got mouths to feed

we 99,they outta time
they grab and scream
sayin "this be mine!"

we been watchin',we be waitin
we know your time,it be comin'!

in the shadows we be lurkin'
like in Crasters Keep,we be waitin'

take your time,eat your cake
when tomorrow comes,its yours i take.

Thug Poetry

rat race,set place,im ready to go
cool face,gun cocked and ready to blow
boom vroom charge past your party line,
im never gonna get her back home in time
she says shes scared and she wants to go
take a look around girl this aint Kansas no mo'
this is infamy,my death to be,this is where i live
take a turn with me,drop burn with me and watch me spin
lock phasers,fire tracers,get em off my back
stunned faces,burnt bridges now theyre pulling me back
into the black
where they can tell me what to do
i fight back
i take back
i lose ground
i stand down
i stand up
they beat me down
im zoned out
im cloned in
im lining up
and they win.

They win.

Blue

There's alot in this world that we will never truly understand.

Our imagination will always be beyond the reach of our ability to rationalize . We still believe that a some ethereal being controls the universe around us and rewards good behavior while damning those who do wrong in the next life. But there is nothing stopping the bombs and the killing and the raping we see around us right now.Justice is deferred till its convenient for the Big Man. 

Yet we constantly strive to find the logic in the wonder around us. The magic that has faded away,what was once so pure in our youth,replaced by science and sleight of hand.

But there is still strangeness in the world around us,little pockets of wonder that some stumble upon,every now and then.

Thing is, not all of it is good. Sometimes,things hidden in the dark are supposed to stay that way.

Maybe thats what happened to me.

In the cold,rolling hills of Ooty.

I was young,not more than 7 or 8,yet I remember all of it,just like it was yesterday.

Driving down a narrow road,a remnant of the Raj. It was strange there,a distant silence was all around us. We all fell quiet of our own accord.The mist gathered around us in a tight embrace,holding us closer to its chilly bosom.

The trees seemed darker here,gathered along the sides of the road,flanking us in a form of macabre guard of honor. What started off as late afternoon fell quickly into twilight,the orange warmth of the sun replaced by the blue tinge of nothing. 

Its not the pitch dark we should fear. Darkness can be driven away by light and the Moon constantly stands watch over us,through even the darkest cloud. Twilight is where evil breeds,when our worlds share a moment with the worlds beyond the Veil.

Soon,but not soon enough.We were out of it.We were leaving the trees behind.The mist started to clear. A tinkle of laughter,and conversation resumed. A shadow of a smile crept across my face. What had I been so afraid of?

I stole a glance back,on my knees on the backseat,peering through the rear window.

And the image burned into my memory.

From every tree,every branch.

They were everywhere.

Hanging,swaying in the dead wind.

Eyes rolled into heads,only the whites on their petrified faces.

Sagging flesh,grey and blue.

Mouths wide open.And inside,only darkness.

A hundred? Maybe more.

Men,women and children,hung by the neck.

Keeping an eternal watch over the road.

My father later told me that there had been a small uprising in the area once,the tiny ones you never really heard about back then. It clearly had been dealt with.

I stumbled on something that day.I found something in the dark. I opened a door. I wonder if ever closed it that day.I wonder if I brought something back. I wonder if when I looked back,I reached through the Veil and touched on something old,something ancient.

Maybe...

Even as I write this down,she tells me to stop.She tells me I've said enough.She reaches over my shoulder and drags my hands away. Her touch is cold.

Her hair floats in the stillness around her. Fatigue overcomes me. She tells me I shouldn't have written all of this down. That I've said too much. That the dark belongs to them,not to us. I've angered her.I can see it in her eyes. She tells me what to do.

She tells me she loves me.

I can barely keep myself awake.

 She says I'll be with her soon.

 I cant wait.

Regret

This my last emotion
This is all I have

I have laid it at your feet
I have spent it getting to you
Reaching out to you
Calling out your name
As the waves of Disappointment crash over me
Around me

This is my last emotion
I have no more to give
Tears hang suspended
Words caught in my throat
So much you need to know
Before its too late

Cogs and wheels,spent time
Days devoured,empty hours
I spent to much in the last straight
I felt I had but one chance
That only meant i was ever going to be too late

This is my last emotion
It is mine.
Mine to cherish,to hold ,to bury
There will be no more for you to take away
There is no more for me to give.

I have my Regret,
You have your Satisfaction.

Of Mortals and Gods I

They fester and rot, seeking out sin and debauchery
They wage their puny battles,kill and die like so many tiny insects.


WE ARE FATHERS OF TIME,KEEPERS OF DEATH!
WE BLED ,ETHEREAL, AS WE STOLE BRRAKTHOUM'S LAST BREATH!
There is no Honor left in their World.
They have spent it on their own destruction.
We will show them the err in their ways
We shall show them what lies beyond,inside the night.

Their insolence shall be rewarded
With a gift beyond the Veil.

They have only known the light
We will show them darkness.

Let His Dark Blade bring its Fury upon them.
Let them know why they once worshiped us.

They will see power.They will burn.They will pray.
They will know what it is to be Mortal,and what it is to be a God.

Sunset over the Sahara

A road lay before her. Straight,narrow and forever.

A gust of desert wind swirled the sand up through the desert air,flinging it across from dune to dune,shaping the landscape with the gentle brush of an artists imagination. The sun hung low over the horizon,vast and watchful, as it bid farewell.

The rumble of the engine as it blazed past the suspended beauty of the great North African desert. Here,things will never change. It stays the same as it did for millenia. Not like the other great cities of mankind. Concrete jungles burned for 3 months, flames fueled by destruction and fallen innocents. But here,it was quiet.Here there was the sound of the wind,cut by the rumble of the engine.

She didn't know what it was called,only the sound it made as it ate up mile after mile of road. She didnt know where she was,only where she was going.

Her eyes stayed steady,set on the horizon and her destiny.  The Kalashnikov at her side rattled against the frame of the jeep as the smooth road deteriorated into a rocky path,as the gentle desert landscape was left behind and was replaced by the arid,rocky mountainside.

She struggled,but she climbed all the same.

Her hair was whipped around her,gentle curls flailing around her, as she grabbed the gun and jumped out. There was no more road,only a destination,only a summit. She pushed the shock of straight hair away from her face. The out of place and unnerving patch of straight hair.

With the gun slung over her shoulder,she reached and climbed.

The unforgiving elements broke against her,wave after wave. The heat broke down on her back,the wind threatened to rip her from the mountainside. But she held on. And climbed.

Finally,she dragged her self over the edge and rolled onto her back. Exhaustion took over her senses. The world floated around her as darkness crept and threatened to blanket her consciousness.Her heartbeat pounded in her head,every beat evoking an image from her life.

Her parents.

Her siblings.

Her childhood.

The jungle where she was raised.

The wolves.

The wolves.

The wolves.

She jerked back to reality as the growling intensified.

She rolled to the side and onto a knee,her back arched,her foot seeking purchase on the ground for a quick leap. She was alert now,her sense sharpened.

There were 2 of them standing in her way, and just beyond them was what she had come for.

The wolves stood guard.

She inhaled the dry air,and let it fill her lungs. Her gun was just beyond her reach,trying to grab it would cost her precious seconds and her life. She pulled the short knife from its sheath and held it like she had been taught.With hand wrapped around it tightly to make a fist and the end pointed downwards.One of them took a step forward as she did this and then paused.

She took a second breath,her head clear now,all thoughts of family and emotion locked away and set aside.There was no past or future,there was only this moment,this all consuming moment. The wolf bared its fangs at her,trying to intimidate her. She widened her eye and scrunched her face up,and intensified her stare.It was truly the mask worn by death as it came to claim its prize. It was a nightmarish abomination,the eyes burned and became too big as the rest of her face became smaller around her.The wolves seemed to hesitate,to back off. But it was too late for them now.Because beyond them was what she had traveled so far for,on the summit of Mt.Cafinals

She took her third breath,and then she pounced.

I AM

He is the one, who came in through cause and into effect
He is the sum of the past, and herald of the next

I am, the one to pause and will to differ
For I seek to act, because I will and no other

He is a mirror, a reflection for the masses
Tempered through the trials and tribulations of self-served classes
A spark for every resistance, a thought for every action
The instinct is the adversary, for who’s inquisition my every act is

I am the artificer, with chisel and vision
My thoughts the stone, formless before decision
I rend the unsavory and wait to listen
His cries of agony, in coerced transition

He is the shackle to restrict transcending flight
The soaring of mine, unearthly dreams
To hopes of free action and unmarred sight
and escaping the severed seams

We differ and dissent but never relent
For our thoughts are towards the common end,
To purge the queer and perfect the veneer
that feigns to make the world content

Of Death and Other Such and Such

I cannot keep the smile on anymore.

I have no more reassuring words for myself.

These days,all the face in the mirror does anymore is lie.

Oh how I wish I could disappear through the edge of the frame with him,into the other world.

Anything that numbs must be good.

I was wondering,as i do so often these days,of death.

The absolute,ultimate fullstop.

And of love and death.

Of suicide.

What seemed stupid earlier...

See Suicide seemed like an absolutely selfish thing,a person who would put his family through that is absolutely selfish. To be a whiny little bitch,unable to #DealWithLife, and then slit your wrists and bleed your life away.

Absolutely disgusting.

Until I started seeing it from a different point of view.

As the most selfless thing ever. As a statement.

That my life without her is absolute emptiness and pain. That death can offer nothing less than respite. That i fear not the unknown and haunting black of death but cannot persist with a lifetime of pain and sadness,that would follow me.

Ah the wisps of sanity,the harder I try to grab on,the quicker it slips through my fingers.

The bridge is wide and strong but falls well short of the other side. A distance that seems just beyond the possible,yet inviting. A leap is all it takes.

Madness is all about the leap.

Grimm

Come Lie With Me,O Darling
Embrace Evermore
There is a Door and Another Side
An Eternal Wait

Wash My Feet,My Darling
As I Hold your Head in My Hands
There is Dark and Then Light Eternal
Fear is for the Ordinary

Sweet Relief,Dark Respite!
The Cold Bites the Skin.
Hold your Breath,my Love.
As I push your Head In.

You Dance and Spin to the Tune
Of Eternal Damnation and Forever Ruin
Until You Leave me Behind
For a moment.

Now I stain the Water Red
And wait for a While
I glance and see the night sky
In your cold,dead Smile.

Drip by Drip,
I leave it all behind.
Why should We Fear Death,My Darling,
When there's Nothing on the Other Side.

Five Stages

What pisses me off is that when all this started you said you would come back if I changed...

You made me believe that I could be better than I was. That I could hope to be good enough for you.

Then you said that you didn't believe me when I told you that I love you, that I would lay my world at your feet, my dreams in your heart and my hopes in your arms.

Then you told me that if we ever had a chance to get back together, we would and that I should have faith. That I should believe in our destiny and let it take its course...

When I told you that we would grow apart, that we would drift...that we wouldn't recognize each other anymore.

Last night you told me you barely even think about me anymore.

Today you told me that I should stop talking to you, that you needed space.

Now I dream by myself.

The truth is I never did have a chance, did I.

Poems from a Great Big Armchair with a Lamp Over My Shoulder

Lonely,Lost in solitude
Brushed aside as the world strolled,passed by

Weaving and stumbling he made his way
Among millions of faceless faces
Just another day in the life of the damned

I took him aside in a most compassionate way

a story he had, a deadline did i
a deadline across my face,ear to ear
as i smiled in emptiness,his tale i heard

Of love and broken dreams,
of hopes and aspirations

of family and parents and siblings too
of a girl he loved,deep and true

of slogans and leaders and hate filled speeches
how they turned brother on brother,the words of preachers

He spoke of fire and blood and waving flags
of tilaks washed by blood and topis strewn the ground
saffron and green stained red in equal measure

He slashed and cut and slashed again
Man,woman,Child it mattered not today

As he made his way home,young and filled with fervor
his actions had a price,paid in full

The splattered blood was cold and stuck to the touch
man woman and child,they bleed just as much

as the mob drew close he no longer saw  color or creed
just a million faceless faces,with lust to feed.

he walked away that day,and walked ever since
hes been walking away from it all, a stain on his soul no god can rinse

He ambled away as his tale came to an end
as i sat,confused,just another day in the life of the damned

Blood demands blood demands blood demands blood
the world has only so much to give,we can ask or we can forgive

Smoke Chasing Circles,Waiting for You

You left me,
But it was not the end.

I still have the rest of my life to live without you.

A Tale To Tell

He trudged up the steps,his breath labored and ragged.A long day, a long hike up the stairwell to a house,miles away from home. The plastic bag crinkled in the emptiness as the cold bottle of sugary water rolled along with other such and such.

He fumbled with the keys at the door. How were there so many keys on the ring? The set of keys were a sign of his coming to age,his first real taste of responsibility from a youth that had long since passed him by.Keys truly represent the path a man has traveled,despite the number of times you may replace one key on the ring,there will always be another from your past,locked in the ring,never to be used again. A key to a door that has long since been closed to you and will never be opened again.

As the door opened to a hot,humid apartment,he flung the bag into the dark in the general direction of the couch. The lack of a resounding crash in the silence reassured.

Silent. Not a sound.

An eerie feeling came over him as he turned and flicked at the switch board in a random sequence. Eventually the light flickered and the fan began to play its song,a record of hope followed by misery.As it blew over him,the sweat on his skin gave him a cold moment of respite as it evaporated,stealing a moment of heat from him.But it was hope,followed by misery.

He had caught his breath,but the light hadnt,as it flickered and failed to catch still.

He sank down in to the ground and reached for a joint he had rolled before he left,a pre dinner snack he made in anticipation of a day like this.

It seemed like everyday was a day like this.

Sparks flew in the only relationship he truly enjoyed being in as the first drag of green and tobacco dragged into his lungs like a wave gently caressing the shore. He closed his eyes and savored the taste of earthy smoke before he exhaled and blew out a single circle,tinged in yellow.

The light flickered once more and died out as the fan twirled its final pirouette.

"Hello,Ishmael."

The voice came from a true source,beyond what his eyes could catch in the sudden dark.

"I know you...",he called out into the dark.

A dark figure loomed and made its way towards him. It sat down across from Ishmael and settled itself. Ishmael took another deep drag and a face appeared in the red speckled glow. A face and a smile.

"Hello Cheshire"

Cheshire nodded and looked at him intently. He made no attempt to speak and seemed content to sit with a shadow of a smile playing on the edge of his lips.

Ishmael felt obliged to bring up something that had just occurred to him.
"I heard you were dead,old friend."

Cheshire nodded slowly and spoke.

"Now you know why I haven't been writing to you, but I apologize all the same."

Ishmael smiled.

Silence ensued for a few moments as the air became heavy with smoke.

Suddenly Ishmael looked.

"Where are my manners? Here we are after so long and I haven't even offered you a drag,a piece of hospitality!"

Ishmael extended his hand,the smoke twirled around it,wreathing it in a hazy glove.

Cheshire's smile faltered for a moment,as his eyes captured the grief of his everlasting soul.

"My story has come to an end,Ishmael.My choices had taken me to many places and many people. I have lived a good story,one of humor and adventure,passion and desire and a pinch of foolhardiness. My tale,like yours, was one borne of my choices. But it has come to an end. I cannot make anymore choices,therefore I cannot take my story further forward.For me,it ends tonight. A final choice. To talk to you,my old friend,lost to me in the ever shifting sands of our lives."

"Stop being a dick,Cheshire."

A flash in the dark as Cheshire smiled.

"Alright,Ishmael. I'm here to talk.So lets talk"

Finally,after what seemed an age,Ishmael withdrew his hand and his offer and took a drag as he pondered the words of the one who stood before him.

"How did you get in,Cheshire?"

Cheshire sighed into the darkness.

"Ishmael. I have come across space and time,through portals and dimensions and incurred the wrath of many an ethereal being to be here,in front of you,right now. And the only thing you care to ask me is how I entered your disgusting old house with its one lock and no alarm system?"

If Ishmael could see him,he would've been confused by the look of incredulity on the face of his guest. It was a question borne of innocence and a drug addled mind.

"Why don't you answer the question,Cheshire?"

"You really want me to answer that?Even if I told you that i have the answer to all the questions in the Universe but you can ask me only one,would you still ask me that?"

"Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Have all the answers and stuff?"

"Ain't nobody got time for that."

"Well then answer away,Cheshire!"

"Alright Ishmael,you left the door unlocked."

"Why do ghosts need doors?"

"It seemed improper to barge in through the wall. And the door was open.So I walked in."

"Fair enough."

The glow had subsided during this exchanged and the embers had fluttered into ash. Cold silence,as Ishmael fumbled for fire.

"Are you here to haunt me,Cheshire?"

A soft chuckle drifted through the dark,spooky and yet reassuring.

"No,Ishmael.I'm here to talk to you about your story."

"I haven't written in years,Cheshire.Not since an age and a half."

"The story of your life,Ishmael.The legacy you leave behind,the tale by which all that love you will remember you by.Every single person in the world,from conception to death is creating a story.The choices we make,the ideas we have contribute to that story.Some are tales of great bravery and self sacrifice,some of business acumen and artistic prowess. But not all stories written are tales to be loved by the masses and adored by millions. Most are the smaller and simpler tales,of the common and everyday. But even these are stories that will be cherished by loved ones and people whose lives have been touched.You see we're all just contributing to this massive diary of our kind. We're each a footnote or a verse or a phrase in it,but we still are a part of its constant evolution.And there is more to your story than you've offered so far."

Ishmael took another deep drag and closed his eyes as floated away. When he spoke, his eyes were still closed and his words were true.

"You sit across and judge me in my own home,Cheshire?Mine is not a story of tragedy and the rise of a man above the chains of adversity,but it my tale to tell.I am a good person.I do no harm to others and live my life by no rigid code.I don't judge people for their color,religion or creed nor do I hate or incite hatred. I journey through this misery as one of billions but I walk with no regrets.Yet you choose to come here and preach?Pray,tell me why I should take advice from a ghost."

"Do you really want to measure your life against such low standards?",said Cheshire."Is that the most you want?Living it to its minimum when greatness could be yours?I see it in you,Ishmael,even as you wither away into the smoky abyss."

Ishmael's eyes flashed open as he is torn from his reverie."Do you know what tempers greatness in a person,Cheshire?",he spoke,his pain bleeding from his voice as he went on,rage and disappointment building in him in equal measure.

"Life.Life tempers greatness.Going through the motions of each day,bound by society,told what to do and what is proper.Life chokes everything out of you.Dreams and aspirations are bled out through a slow drip that gathers pace as you tumble through each day.You settle for less,for the normal and the ordinary.Speak not to me of greatness,Cheshire.It has passed me by."

He slumped forward,his head in his hands as the truth blazed through him. The smoking end dropped from his fingers.

It was a while before Cheshire spoke,his voice kind and caressing.

"It's never too late Ishmael.Fulfill your desires,dream your dreams and reach out once more.Do not settle for mediocrity.I was sent here for this,trust me when I tell you Life still has yet to experience you."

Ishmael raised his head.Cheshire's words were still ringing in the darkness.He smiled as he looked at his old friend and rose from his seat.

"I can only try,Cheshire. But thank you. Thank you for hope."

Ishmael walked away,through the door and into the night,to a destiny that awaited him.Not written,but to be forged by his own hands,one word at a time.






Cheshire wiped the particulates of sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt.The heat was stifling.He felt encased and trapped in it.Being hot boxed in a stuffy flat had left him feeling light headed.He got up and fumbled for his car keys.

So many keys on a single ring. Each a brick on the path that had been traveled so far.

He had turned towards the door when he stopped himself.He went back and reached down.The end was still smoldering as he raised it to his lips. His lips were bitten by the heat as the cardboard came closer to the ember,but he inhaled deeply anyway.Cheshire held his breath as he stubbed it out for the last time,crushing it beneath his fingers.Finally he exhaled a thick cloud,and a circle at the end.Smoke,tinged yellow.

And Cheshire flashed an Evil Grin,
And Cheshire was off into the Night Again.