Riot

He slammed the baton into the back of her head. She crumpled forward like a puppet whose strings had been suddenly cut and slumped to the ground in a heap. He was stunned by the force of the vibrations as they moved up his arm. Did he really hit her so hard?

He could not see through his visor clearly. He swung out wildly as the mass closed around him. The smoke was choking him; tearing his lungs up with acidic after-taste. He could hear the hollers and barked orders of his comrades and the screams of the placard-toting protesters. He could feel the crush of bodies descending on him. Panic enclosed his mind; fear gripped at his heart. Would he die here today? He struck out...

People were running. Crying out for their separated friends; crying out for medics. Fires were starting further down the street. A sergeant was yelling for a line to form. Cries of pain broke the air. And there she was... A dark pool of red blood flowing out from under her twisted neck like blooming crimson flowers on the pavement. Her strawberry blond hair was matted to her head and her spine was twisted into an impossible position. She was not moving. Why was she not moving?

The world dulled and became silent as he stared down at her. Had he really hit her so hard? His hands went numb. The numbness crept up his arms, spread across his shoulders and snaked tingling fingers into his scalp. He felt bodies moving around him. Shoving, screaming, falling, bleeding. He was rooted into this place. He could not move. Had he really hit her so hard? Her blood flowed towards him, pooled around his boots. He was awash in a ocean of her blood. His vision was turning red with the colour of her blood. Her blood was staining his mind. Her blood was tinting the world red... so very very red.

Something sharp and glass slammed into his face. His numb hands dropped the baton to the ground with a deafening clatter as he slipped to his knees through a sea of red. He suddenly found himself face to face with her. Her eyes were wide, frozen in terror, but her mouth was silent. He reached out for her hand and clasped it. It was very cold. O God, why had he hit her so hard?

His vision slipped into blackness as someone drug him away towards the flashing lights of an army of ambulances. He grasped at her hand as they pulled at him. He screamed as they tore him from her. The further away they took him the clearer her face became. As the red world turned to a blackest black her face burned itself onto his heart. 'O God, O God, O God... why did I hit her so fucking hard?'

Beast of God

I am that beast who made her way to you. My fur is black and my eyes glistening red. My teeth gleam perfect white and my claws are unmatched by your swords of nobility. I lie down at your feet in a bristling mass of growling temptation. I am never true.

I shift like tremors under your skin. A mountain of black fur moving like an ocean. Twisting into impossible positions but never taking my eyes off of you. I hunger and am never full.

I lick your leg like an adoring pet. I have seen the gates of hell where I loved demons with many heads and grotesque limbs. I have scoured the earth and heavens for tasty morsels of fleshy children. I have shoved my head under the hand of God and purred in his lap.

I am under every frightened child's bed. I run wild through dark razor-sharp thickets. I howl at the moon for her lost love. I tear the meat from the hunter and bath in his screams. I terrorize villagers and make off with virgins. I fear nothing and have been here since the world began.

Never trust that I am not hungry for you. Do not lay your hand upon my head with the assumption that I will not bite you. Do not mistake my growling for affection. Do not turn your back on me because, my friend, you look very appealing and I do not worry about biting the hand that feeds me when I am oh so hungry...

Dark Lover

"I like the way you smile when you hurt me," he said as he rolled over on to his stomach. All ready the teethmarks where I had bitten his neck were turning a satisfying purplish red. I swung my legs over his hips and pressed the length of my body down his naked back.

I snaked my hand along his scalp and grasp a clump of hair. I pulled his head back and traced my tongue up his neck until I was whispering in his ear, "You like everything I do to you."

"Have you always been this sadistic?"
"Of course, you were simply too afraid to see what I really was before now."

I slipped my hand around his neck to keep his head back where I wanted it and sunk my teeth into his shoulder. He yelped in a mock horror which quickly faded to a muffled moan as I squeezed my hand on his throat. He bucked underneath me. Finding himself unable to throw me, he began to shudder as I licked the wound I had created. I pressed my hips harder against him, my excitement rising with every attempt to evade me and at every whimper escaping his lips.

I ran my tongue down his spine careful to keep my grasp upon his throat, tightening it every time he twitched at my touch. When I reached his hip, I bit down again. This time he screamed but did not move as my hand on his throat continued to tighten. He had learned the game quickly and was fast becoming my favorite playmate. How could I not enjoy someone with skin that bruised so easily?

I moved quickly now. Darted my way up his body, trapped his wrists beneath my knees and wrapped both hands around his throat and tightened. He let out a strangled gasp until I let him go with a sudden jerk. I turned him over underneath me and straddled him once again. I pressed my lips to his and kissed him until we were both gasping for air.

"Now we both have something to smile about. Hold still, my lamb. I've barely begun..."

Strangers

I have been kissing strangers. I have been sneaking up behind them and running my fingers through their hair until they turn. When they find themselves face to face with me I lean in... and I kiss them. And then I run away.

I run like the devil is chasing me. Like fire is licking at my heals. I run to keep distance with the insanity inside me. The neurosis vibrates at a quickening pace speeding up my heart whenever some hapless person dares venture too close to me. I lash out. I bite and kick and scream. And then I run away.

I have been keeping strangers in my bed. I pretend for a little while that I am a normal girl. That I can stand to have someone's skin so close to mine. I pretend that to feel their breath disturbing the air around me does not make me twitch. They get up to walk to the other room and I run. I run away.

I will run until my lungs collapse in on themselves like a foreign star trapped in the vortex of a distance galaxy. I will run until I can find a nice dark place to hide. And when a stranger's feet walk by I will snap at them with my teeth like a wild dog. I will claw at the ground until I can bury myself in a tunnel of my own distorted mind. And when I begin to scream at these prying eyes of strangers coming to peer in on this strange girl; maybe they will finally run away from me.

Victorian Embers

I lit a fire in the old stone fireplace. It sparked to life as the match hit the dry wood and the room was soon cast in a warm glow. I studied the room I now found myself standing in; this house had that Victorian dour looming over every part of it. Heavy velvet drapes covered the windows, ancient black and white photographs hung in ornate frames on every wall, and the mantle of the fireplace was crowded with trinkets and curios I imagined came from all over the world. Time weighed heavily on this place. I could feel the ghosts of two hundred years of family history swirling around me.

I settled into the ornate couch and drew my knees up to my chest. He had been following me through out the house as I explored every room of his family home like a tourist on a holiday. I was fascinated by every story. "See this photo here, this is my great uncle. He ran whiskey during Prohibition through the tunnels under this very house. And this painting, this was my great great great grandfather. Some said he had ties to pirates in the South Seas of the Empire and stole a princess bride from the island kingdom. And this, this is my great grandmother, she was a nurse in World War I. She met my great grandfather, who was a soldier, in a field hospital after he was wounded and fell in love with him. They were married in the garden outside."

I thought about my own history as I looked into his eyes as he sat across from me. The hundreds of years of family history that had been lost to me. My drunken father could barely remember his own name at times, let alone the tales of generations gone past. I felt new to the world. Like I had not existed before now, like the loss of all that history had disconnected me from the world and from my own past.

He moved closer to me and traced my fingers with his own before clasping my hand and lifting it to his mouth. He placed a gentle kiss upon the back of my hand, his lips barely grazing my skin. I suddenly found myself thinking about my first kiss; a time when kissing was the most exciting thing in the world before all the complications of sexual expectations and grown-up responsibilities got in the way of a simple pure kiss.

To his shock, I suddenly slid into his arms and forced my lips upon his. I could feel the ghosts in the room pull back and begin to hum in the background. He fell into the kiss with ease and slipped one hand into my hair and the other to the small of my back so he could draw me closer to him. His kiss was so deep that I felt like I would get lost. That someone as unattached to this world as I was could get lost in a moment like this and never reappear again. I could just slip in between the cracks of this reality and become one of the ghosts swirling about the room. I could be trapped here forever to haunt his dreams like a wraith lost in all the dusty history caught in this dour Victorian landscape.

I drew back from his lips but not from his arms and studied his crystal blue eyes. The flickering light from the embers of the fire danced upon the terrain of his face as he smiled at me. The ghosts in the room now wrapped themselves around me like a thick quilt and began to sing in my ear. I lie against him as we entwined ourselves around each other like we were teenage lovers and pressed my ear to his chest. As I listened to the rhythmic beating of his heart I knew that soon I would know all the secrets of this ancient place and the ghosts would take up residence in my heart. Suddenly, I felt like I was home.