let us never forget that the human race with technology is like an alcoholic with a barrel of wine
~ Ted Kaczynski ~

The Jeff Freels Transplant Fund

The Creator of the BEAN d2 RPG needs our help:
http://www.jeffwerx.com/tf

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Two Short Horror Stories For Halloween

Two of my previously published horror tales. The first, Carnal Desire, was my first published piece of fiction.

~~~

Carnal Desire

He softly caresses her, lightly kissing her neck and breasts. Gently, he pulls her resisting legs apart and enters her. His mind swoons with lust as his body flushes with passion. His warm tongue explores her mouth as he makes love to her. Sweat beads upon his forehead as his back stiffens and he climaxes. Satiated, he pulls the sheet up for her and fastens his scrubs.

Suddenly, the morgue door opens and the coroner steps in.

“Hey Doc, I wasn’t expecting you. Can I help you with something?”

“No, that’s okay, Joe. I got what I needed.”

{First appeared in Necrotic Tissue July 2008}

~~~

Crimson Cravings

I can feel it again, nibbling at the edges of my sanity. It’s almost constant now, the need, the want. The fucking hunger. I fight to ignore it, but it’s like trying to ignore a never-ending train while sleeping inches from the tracks. Ka-chug, ka-chug, ka-chug. It just keeps on and on, like a cacophony of malevolence that echoes through my head. Crimson fantasies begin to play out in my mind, dreams of brutality yearning to be realized…

Damn it, it’s driving me crazy!

Ka-chug, ka-chug, ka-chug. I hear you, Kleaver, I hear you calling. Look at you, still embedded in a rotting piece of the last one. Come to me, my friend. You belong in my hand.

I knew I never had a chance of resisting. From the first pangs of hunger I knew. Ka-chug, ka-chug, ka-chug. You’re right! I can’t take it anymore. After all, a man’s gotta eat, doesn’t he? Let’s go, my friend.

Can you smell it, Kleaver? Beneath the stench of car exhaust and pollution: the pungent-sweet odor of blood. Look at them. An endless parade of cattle, ripe for the slaughter. Imagine how each would scream, how each would taste. My mouth is watering, and my stomach is whining. Let’s pick one, quickly! Ka-chug, ka-chug, ka-chug. Yes, I see him. The homeless man with the long, wild white hair and tattered wool overcoat. He’s perfect. No one will miss him. Ka-chug, ka-chug, ka-chug. I know, I’m so excited my body is quivering and my balls are tingling!

Shit! We’ve been following him for blocks, Kleaver, each step an agony as we try to resist ripping into his belly. Ka-chug, ka-chug, ka-chug. I know you’re thirsty! Soon, he has to stop soo… wait! Look, he’s going into that abandoned warehouse. Let’s slip in that side window, sneak up on him. Ka-chug, ka-chug, ka-chug.

Ugh, this place reeks of piss, ka-chug, but I still can smell his blood. Look Kleaver, ka-chug, what luck! These old twisted racks will keep him from seeing us coming, ka-chug. I love your seductive whisper as I slide you out of my belt, ka-chug. Can you hear my fluids racing through me? My senses are so alive, ka-chug, my mind feels like it’s gonna fry. Slowly, methodically, we hunt for our prey, ka-chug. Oh, Kleaver, this is so fucking intense, ka-chug, I’m getting hard! Soon, we’ll carve him, ka-chug, like a butcher carves a side of beef. Soon, ka-chug, we’ll feast on his dead flesh, ka-chug, and drink his still-warm blood!

There he is, with his back turned, ka-chug. Kleaver, my temples are pounding with bloodlust, ka-chug, my legs and arms are trembling, ka-chug. My beautiful Kleaver, ka-chug, are you ready to slice him open and pour his steaming insides onto the, ka-chug, dust-covered floor? Uh-oh, it looks like he’s heard us Kleaver, ka-chug. He’s turning around, ka-chug, look Kleaver, look! I can’t wait, ka-chug, to see his expression, to see his…smile? Ka-chug?

What’s this? Why isn’t he screaming and cowering in fear like the others? This homeless wretch actually wants to challenge us! Ha, ha! Oh Kleaver, this is gonna be so good, so… is his face changing, narrowing, becoming… animalistic? Shit! Are those fangs, and claws!?! Kleaver, what the Hell is going on? I’m so scared I’m pissing myself! Kleaver? Why aren’t you answering me? Run feet run! Why aren’t you fucking running? Kleaver, where have you gone? Please, stay away, away from me… Kleaver? Help me, Kleaver! Kleav…

KA-RUNCH!!!

{First appeared in Microhorror, March 4, 2009}

A Few Poems For Halloween

Some of my previously published work appropriate to the holiday...

Remnant

She roams
the dark halls, seen
yet unseen, wandering
memory of yesterday, lost
in death.

She weeps
tales of pain, heard
yet unheard, whispering
shadow of yesterday, calling
in death.

She dwells
in herself, here
yet not here, a woeful
vestige of yesterday, walking
in death.

{First appeared in Amaze: The Cinquain Journal Volume 6, No. 2, 2008}


Silver Bullets

Full moon’s
ashen shadows
embrace the wolfsbane blooms;
Gunshots ring out across the moors –
howling.

{First appeared in Sketchbook April 30, 2008, Volume 3, Issue 4}


Fallen

Brightest
of stars, broken
wings and shattered halo,
love betrayed, Kingdom asunder –
lost grace.

{First appeared in Sketchbook April 30, 2008, Volume 3, Issue 4}

Friday, October 1, 2010

New Blog Launched

As I am sure has been noticed, I have gotten a bit rabid about P&PRPGs again, particularly Tunnels & Trolls and related games by Ken St. Andre and others. To avoid clogging up DECADENT BLOSSOMS with endless posts about RPG gaming, I've decided to launch a new blog dedicated to just that. I call it TROLL HAMMER, and you can find it here: http://trollhammerpress.blogspot.com/

TROLL HAMMER is also a precursor for another event, the future birth of TROLL HAMMER PRESS, but you'll have to follow future posts at the new blog to learn more.

I have been hard at work on several RPG projects which will be announced in the near future at TROLL HAMMER.

So, back to the business of poetry, my writing, and dark interests here at DECADENT BLOSSOMS, and off for a bit of RPG escapist fun at TROLL HAMMER.

Paul

Rock & Troll II

I've changed the song in the Rock & Troll feature at the bottom of the blog. We say goodbye to Finntroll and hello to Idiot Flesh. Idiot Flesh was an anti-rock performance band, masters of the bizarre, and quite talented. After the demise of Idiot Flesh, several core members continued together and formed the band Sleepytime Gorilla Museum, one of my favorite bands. Enjoy the foray into strangeness!