Tag Archives: short stories

A Moment in Time

Kristin stared at the television, confused by what she saw. There was some sort of cheerleading movie on and while it appealed to the girly-ness of her character, it also frightened her a little. She quickly switched to BBC America where Doctor Who had already started. Matt Smith was running around with the Doctor’s new companion. Kristin enjoyed her. The girl reminded her of a souffle that was just about done. It still needed to peculate in the oven, but it would be perfect when finished. Her phone vibrated, surprising her enough to launch her in the air. Cursing silently to herself, she hoped her mother wasn’t faking her out again.



“Honey its me! Bye!”



God, was she tired of it. She looked at caller ID. 555-5555 She answered, holding the phone to her ear as she turned the volume to the Christmas Special down.


“Hey, Kristin! Its us!”


“I know! Oh goodness. Okay, so I’m not really sure what’s going on right now in my life,” she sighed, falling back on the bed. After talking to her friends, J and David, she realized that she wished she could be in the same room, discussing the Christmas Special together.

Demon Debts Part Two

Warning: This may seem a little disturbing. Do not read if you are easily offended.

Heaven Sent

            “Why do you doubt it, Sweetie?” I whispered, leaning onto his shoulder. Gregor’s arm automatically came up around me, holding me to him. His dark, brown eyes locked onto mine and before I knew it he had me on the cushions, snuggling.

“Angels are just like the two lovely ladies upstairs, except they’re worse. They have problems with demons and tend to poke vulnerable places in our emotions. Grandfather loves having them around, but Father… It bothers him. Mother just ends up amused,” he replied, taking my hand in his. The Brownies floated over and bowed deeply to Gregor before a pure, white envelope appeared in midair. Gregor grabbed it before it could drop as the Fae disappeared. As he opened the envelope, a bright light burst from it, blinding me.

“God! Fucking bright light!”

“Grandfather!” Gregor growled, pulling my hands from my eyes when the light had disappeared. A note, or invitation, fell out with engraved words in gold. The cardstock itself was as white as the envelope it had come in. A key fell out as well, shiny silver against Gregor’s red skin. He held it to the light of the candled chandelier, turning it this way and that. I snatched the invitation from his hand.

It was from Gregor’s grandfather, but I didn’t make it past the first line before it was in his hands again. His eyes scanned the page religiously, as if searching for the meaning of life. A bag of chips suddenly landed in my lap, the Pixie responsible disappearing faster than you could pronounce their names.

“Wait. Bright, white light with white paper and Pat—your brother mentioned that your grandfather had a house with many rooms,” I said, leaning forward to Gregor to search his eyes. “And your grandfather is around Angels. Please tell me this isn’t what I think it means.”

“Well, what do you think?” Gregor asked, taking his eyes off the invitation, finally. His right hand rubbed up and down my right arm. The soothing strokes almost distracted me from my thoughts. Almost.

“Your grandfather’s God. You’re a direct descendant of the Almighty Something-stuck-up-my-ass, which means that your father must be one of the original fallen,” I murmured, sitting back further. The gears in my head started turning faster than ever as I counted up the two times I’d been chased by Gregor’s brother—or brothers—and the Army of Hell. Cursing, I stood up from the cushion. Turning on Gregor, I aimed my deadliest glare at him. At least it would be if looks could kill.

“Yes, my grandfather’s God. He’s such a—“

“Your father is Lucifer!” I shouted, backing away. A demon that none should mess with, except for two. Even using his less powerful name was dangerous, but I was willing to take the chance.


“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, leaning against the wall I had run into. He sighed before leaning forward. Another deep breath alerted me to the presence of extreme tension. Relenting the anger that had not really been there, I returned to his side and snuggled into him. Gregor kissed my forehead, holding me close to him. I was his lifeline in that moment.

“Because most people run away from me when I tell them.’

“He has over eighty kids,” I finally muttered. Gregor laughed his full belly laugh before kissing me fully on the mouth.

“He does. Seven of us are the—“

“Seven sins. I know,” I whispered, cuddling into his chest. “And you’re the equivalent of ‘Lust.’”

“How did you know?” he asked, kissing my cheek. I rolled my eyes before gesturing to the entire building. Come on, it was being held up by magic and sex. He laughed again before standing to walk to the kitchen. I followed quickly, returning the chips that had never left my hands to the cabinet they belonged in.

“What did God want?” I asked, pulling out a large pot and some boxes of spaghetti. The process of getting the water boiling was fast, so Gregor just ambled up behind me.

“Family dinner. A really big one, according to Patarion,” Gregor responded, helping with the noodles. “He wants you to come.”

I stopped for a millisecond, but it was enough for Gregor to finish supper. Mockingly, I admonished him on taking over something I loved to do. A flirtatious grin over took his face as he tried to feed me, but I insisted on feeding myself. He seemed annoyed, but it disappeared from his face in the next instance. He was an amusing study in emotions, though you wouldn’t have been able to tell with the bitches upstairs in the room. God, I wanted to kill them.

“Why does He want me to come?” I asked, starting to eat the remaining cheese on my plate. Gregor didn’t say anything at first and the atmosphere thickened until it was uncomfortable. I wiggled in my seat, trying to think of something to say to ease the tension you could cut with a dull, rusty spork.

“Apparently my father told him that you and I was an item. He wants to meet the girl who stole the demon of Lust’s heart,” Gregor said at last, keeping his eyes down casted. I stared at him, taking in each freckle and hair follicle until he finally looked up at me. Smiling, I stood and gestured for him to follow me. We walked up stairs and to the room we’d been sharing while I was there.

It’s a good thing I’m no Christian.

A few hours later Gregor led me to a vehicle on the outside of the tall-about-to-topple-over-tower I had never seen before. He helped me in and all I could see were futuristic computers mixed with laptops, and some of the ones from the eighties. Buttons were everywhere and there were more than one “do not press” buttons. Gregor joined me after a few minutes and typed rapidly. Soon, we were flying away.

We reached a splotch of pure, white, fluffy clouds and parked. Gregor acted like a gentleman, helping me out and escorting me to the biggest—and whitest—building I had ever seen. The path to the door was pure gold and the door was a strange mixture of gold and some sort of wood. A Doctor Who joke popped in my head, but I held it back. It would do no good to piss off our host. Especially since he could smite you without so much as a blink. Gregor knocked on the door and a tall man with blond hair opened the door.

“Hello, Gregorious. It was so nice of you to come,” the man said. I was a little afraid that I might burst out laughing, but I held it in better than the toga held in the Angel’s junk.

“Hello, Uncle Gabriel.”

“Who is this young lady, Gregorious?”

“Faith, this is Gabriel. Gabriel, this is Faith. She’s my companion,” Gregor responded, his voice taking an icy tone. Gabriel held up his hands as if to say that he wasn’t going to do anything, but there was a gleam in his eye that I didn’t trust. It spoke of promises I did not care to find out about.

“I won’t touch her, Nephew. Just remember to mind your manners around Father,” Gabriel said, leading us inside. We weren’t the first of the demons to arrive, but we were the last. Lucifer stood in his evil glory next to his father, whose righteous glory was making me feel like vomiting. There was so much white in the room, you would’ve thought that the entire squad of Angels were there. As soon as he saw us, Lucifer practically sprinted over and hugged Gregor.

“Thank Hell, you’re here. I don’t think I could’ve stood another one of your grandfather’s ‘An Angel and a Demon Walked into a Bar’ joke. My evilness are those not funny,” he murmured to us both.

“Father, this is Faith. Faith, this is my father, Lucifer,” Gregor said, changing subjects quickly. Lucifer grabbed my hand and kissed the same place Gregor had months earlier.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Faith. My son is quite taken with you.”

“Well, I don’t know about that…” I nervously trailed off. Gregor’s hands found their way to my hips, holding me as if I might break at any moment. Lucifer’s eyes trailed down and stopped. A smirk stole over his lips before he said something in Latin that made Gregor’s hands tighten on my hips. Taking his hands into my own, I leaned back into Gregor’s chest. I had always found him comforting.

“I see someone is quite attached.”

“Excuse me sir, I think I need to go take a seat somewhere,” I said to Lucifer before turning to Gregor. “Will you escort me?”

“Of course, love,” he replied, taking me to a cushioned fainting couch. We sat close together, holding hands. A demon passed us by, nodding his head at Gregor. Gregor returned the favor. Snuggled up to him, I almost fell asleep, but a gong sounded/ Gabriel approached us.

“Dinner is served. Where has Leviatorian gone?” he said, stopping an inch from my right food.

“Outside, I believe,” Gregor responded, coldly. Nodding, Gabriel started for the door where the demon from earlier seemed to be napping. Gregor helped me up and we started for the dining room, but we didn’t reach the doorway until after Gabriel called Gregor’s brother a “no good sloth.” The dining room looked like it was from one of those from a movie all about the royalties of old. When I looked up at the ceiling I felt like I was in the Cistine chapel for a second, until I realized where I was.

“Grandfather was never one for modesty. Ironic, right?” Gregor murmured into my ear, escorting me to a chair that looked uncomfortable as Hell. I laughed quietly as he pulled my chair out like a gentleman. Taking my seat, I watched Gregor move with grace there was no way he could have. The Lord stood at the head of the table, holding a glass of red-violet liquid.

“A toast!” He exclaimed. “I have the entire family at my table for supper. This sight makes me so proud of being a Father and grandfather. The best thing about this, Family, is that Gregor has brought his brand new girlfriend home to meet the family. Thank you so much for coming. Now for the news: I have decided to postpone the Rapture again. There’s too much that’s wrong here in Heaven. A tornado has torn down half of the house and the gold needs to be polished like it had been.”

“Father, is this really necessary? We already know you want to see the Mortals with flying cars, hovercraft, and time travel before you want to take them out of that. We have and always will have whatever they have on Earth,” Lucifer said, standing. Gregor sunk his head in his hands and I placed my hand on his thigh. Patarion across from me sent me a smile before pulling out a joint.

“No weed in Heaven, Patarion,” God said without missing a beat. The grin he wore on his face went from ear to ear. I wasn’t too sure if I liked the grin, but the food appeared all at once. We ate the food like it was the only thing we’d see for years. Carefully avoiding the wine and berries, I dug into my salmon like it was the first I had ever had. The seasoning was almost perfect, but it was missing something.

“Love, you’re a goddess,” Gregor said, leaning over to whisper in my ear. I blushed bright red before filling my mouth with water.

“Why are you avoiding the wine, Faith?” Lucifer asked, sounding concerned. I swallowed the water before facing him.

“Oh, old habits I guess. I’m used to dealing with the Fae,” I replied respectfully. “Its not safe to drink anything alcoholic in their realm.”

“Oh yes, the Fae. They are perplexing. I created them in another realm before creating my Angels, but I just didn’t like trying to deal with them. Their abilities of skirting around the truth without actually lying made a monotheistic society nearly impossible,” God said, eating a bit of bread. The irony of watching him with the bread nearly made me laugh. I held it together better than I thought I ever could.

“Is bread a major staple here?” I asked, looking around for some rice.

“Yes. We don’t eat rice up here because its not really our thing. Lucifer loves it though,” God responded, buttering another slice. The tension I had been waiting for arrived full force against all of us. Gregor’s breathing changed to a rapid pace from a calm and collected one. God just continued eating as if there wasn’t a giant, purple-and-green polka dotted elephant in the room. Aparantly they had disputes over what was better to eat. It was interesting, but Gregor needed to calm down. His lips were pulled into a thin line that partially revealed the teeth he only showed when angry. Patarion across from us leaned forward in his seat, his hands crushing the wood of the arms of his chair. Getting home would be the better idea of any.

“Gregor, love,” I whispered, getting his attention. “Can we go home? I’m not feeling too well. There is too much energy in the room.”

In no time I was in Gregor’s arms on the way back to his vehicle. Gabriel followed, but couldn’t keep up with a Demon who wanted to make sure his lover was safe and sound. He barely stopped to open the door, or close it as the vehicle sped off. I wasn’t sure if there were any speed limits between dimensions, but if there were we could probably expect a ticket in the mail. If the demon dimension even had mail, anyway. Gregor never answered my question involving that.

As soon as we were home Gregor carried me to the bedroom we’d been sharing and started tending to my every fake need. It took him a few hours to realized that I had faked my problem for the sole reason of getting him to an environment that was healthier for him.

“You faker,” he murmured, snuggling up beside me. “You weren’t feeling badly at all.”

“No, but you were starting to go evil for a moment.”

“Darling, I am evil.”

“Only around your family,” I responded, laughing. Before he could lean down and kiss me a bright light appeared. The face of God appeared and he glared at us both on the bed.

“Why did you leave?”

“I’m sorry, but we didn’t want to sit in the tension any longer.”

“Oh. So that’s how it is. I feel nothing, but contempt,” he growled before disappearing. Shrugging, I snuggled further into Gregor’s arms and fell fast asleep.

The next few weeks went by fast, until we remembered the bitches on the top floor. The fridge was stocked, but only enough for a month, so we had to walk up the stairs with bags full of food. Knocking on the door caused absolutely nothing, so I slowly opened the door. Rachel attempted to slip out, but I shoved her against the wall where she let out a small “oof.”

“We brought you food,” I said, gesturing to the bags that Gregor had taken from me.

“I’ll eat none of your Devil food you whore,” Rachel growled through clenched teeth. She reached towards the counter and picked up a knife. With a loud roar, Rachel attacked me. Catching her with my left hand, I turned her around so that the knife pressed against her own ribs. The blade slowly slid up her back, causing her to bleed.

“We’re trying to help you,” Gregor said, walking over to the counter and placing the bags of food on it. “I haven’t figured out how to get you home, yet. Patience.”

“We don’t have much patience, Demon,” Claire said from the chair that faced away from us.

“Well, you need some. I have been very patient with you both, but its running out,” I responded, pulling the knife from Rachel’s hand and shoving her towards Claire’s chair. “Be careful. It might kill you. You can put your own damned groceries away.”

Gregor and I left the top floor. Seething, I practically ran back down to the bottom floor. Gregor arrived a few moments after I had thrown myself into a seat. He sat beside me, snuggling up as close as he could. I allowed myself to rest my head on his shoulder. I had always found him comfortable, but I didn’t think it was that bad. Before I knew it I was awake in our bed the next morning.

“Good morning, love.”

“Morning, Gregor. What happened?” I asked, scratching my head.

“The bitches.”

“Tried to attack me, didn’t they?”

“They did,” he said, walking over to the bed as I looked up. In his hands were two plates of chocolate chip pancakes with butter and syrup. “But that was just the idiot blond one.”

“Should I be worried?” I asked, yanking the plate he handed to me. Scooping the delicious substance known as chocolate and pancake batter into my mouth, I looked at him expectantly.

“Maybe a little,” he said, sitting beside me with his own. We ate in silence for a few moments before he leaned over and placed a big, sticky kiss to my cheek. Giggling, I playfully shoved him, but he caught me and pulled me into a loving hug. Pulling away, I took our plates of pancake remains down to the kitchen. A knock at the door stopped me from actually washing them.

I walked the short distance to the front shojo door and opened it.

A Mystery

I started this, fully intending to finish in one go, but it couldn’t seem to pull itself from my mind like I wanted to. So it’ll be continued. If you have a suggestion for a better title let me know.

I watched the lights flash off my Glock as I took aim at the motherfucker who had decided to kill my mother. His eyes were wide, shocked that I had come all the way to Hickory to find him. I breathed out through my mouth, allowing a surreal sense of calmness to encircle me. It steadied my hand and I no longer blinked.

“How did you find me?”

“It was simple,” I said. “It started the day I spoke to the police.”

“Why don’t you tell me the entire story?”


“I want you to know before you kill me,” he said, backing away with his hands up.

“You’ll hear it soon. You’ll read it soon,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. He shuddered as I took aim at his right knee. He started blabbering about something for a moment and I listened before I pulled the trigger. He screamed and I took pleasure in that scream before taking off, purposely dropping my note.

None of this would have happened if I hadn’t entered the room the exact moment my mother died. A man stood, facing me with a mask on and his Glock in hand. He dropped the gun and sprinted out the window, towards the fire escape. I was screaming and crying so loudly over my mother’s body that the next door neighbor had walked in to check on us. The police tried to pin it on me, but my alibi checked out and all was well. At least that’s what they told me. They had never caught the guy because my mother was  a prostitute.

I could never remember much about my mother’s attacker, but his pale blue eyes. It was like looking into ice and that ice had started burying into my soul.

As soon as I could I got emanicipated from my grandparents and moved to a small apartment close to the college I wanted to attend. I never got in, having to drop out of school to afford my apartment, but I started studying at the library. I was there so often that I was offered a job.

I had been there for ten years before I saw the man again. At first I wasn’t sure. He was the same height, sure. I hadn’t seen his entire face, so every man that tall scared me a little, but his eyes were those same ice blue. Ice blue that spread cold throughout my body. I followed him from the library until I knew what he had done, what he could do. I caught him…..

(To be continued).

Never Escaping

This short story is a work of fiction. The events never really happened anywhere outside of my imagination. Please give me constructive criticisms  on this piece.

The hacking came from everywhere in the hospital where I laid in my gown. A curtain separated me from the room, but I could tell that the walls were white. The mint green curtains held up by bright silver metal billowed when someone walked by, giving me glimpses of other rusted cots.

Nurse Claire, a gray old lady whose hair never stayed in the gauze cap on the top of her head, came by to give me my meds. I just pretended to take them for her sake. I didn’t feel the pain I was supposed to feel until later. The meds start to work quickly after it slips down my esophagus, so I didn’t want to feel the escape yet. I hadn’t written down my experience.

It all started when I was three. My mother had given me to the Guild to save me from a life of poverty that she had been forced to live in by her late husband. The Guild kept me on charge until my eleventh birthday, then I had to pay my way. Other children of my sex immediately threw themselves into the prostitution ring within the Guild, but I found myself in the practice fields with the boys.

They would not allow me to join them in the actual lessons, but the boys taught me during practice times when the instructors were elsewhere. I found my proficiencies in archery and grappling. I practiced hard everyday and soon I was good enough to join the boys on the hunting parties. Of course I had to dress like a man.

However, that was not what put me in the hospital. I was running away from the Guild to enter the forbidden. Our Guild Master, Thomas, forbade us from leaving the simple life to go into the world that had motor vehicles.

“Simple is better, Children. Remember that and you will survive this world of cut-throats,” he had said at the end of every book lesson. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but I was sure he was wrong. The Guild had things going on that the law books claimed were illegal.

I reached the main road three days after my escape and I started down the road. I had not been a popular girl since I did not indulge in the acts of my peers. My purity was still intact and would be until I chose otherwise. The would not notice me until I had already established a life in the outside world.

I was on the main road until I reached a small town two days later. Smartstown was bustling full of people who stared at my clothing. I was astonished they were not staring at my short hair. I had chopped it off to disguise myself in case I was spotted leaving the facilities.

At some sort of mess hall I entered and walked right up to the man behind the bar serving drinks.

“Where could I find some work?” I asked. The bartender gestured to a sign that said that you had to hold a legal “ID” to work in the bar. I wasn’t sure what an “ID” was, but I wanted to get one. I was heading out to find out where I could get one when the fight started. I huddled close to the bar, dodging chairs and glasses. It was mayhem with all the stuff flying everywhere. A small white ball flew over my head into the bartender’s forehead which had started wrinkling. He pulled out a gun and aimed it for the first person to start the entire thing, but that man jumped the bar to grab an empty glass bottle. He broke it on the bar and held it to my throat, stopping the bartender.

“Come, now. You don’t want to do that, Boy.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Old Man. I’m gonna take this girl out real slow and if anyone gets in my way I’ll kill her,” he said, dragging me towards the door. When he turned to open it I side-stepped the bottle and kicked him right between the legs. He stooped, but his friend grabbed me by my upper arms and tried to pull me out. I was throwing small punches and kicking him the best I could until I felt something go into my back. The man dropped me in an instant and ran away. I blacked out.

When I woke up I was in this hospital, having just been operated on by the kindly doctor. Since we didn’t have any names in the Guild I’ve been called Jane Doe until they could figure out what happened. No one seemed to believe my story and the police refused to look into the Guild.

I stared at the floor, annoyed that my back had started fussing up again. I looked at the pills in my hand before swallowing them both in one gulp. The cup of water that Nurse Claire always left by my bed was in my hand heading towards my lips when the curtains billowed again. Guild Master Thomas stepped through the gap. His words left me feeling cold.

“You know you can never escape the Guild.”

Masters of Horror: Meet Mr. E. A. Poe

Two seasons. Twenty-six episodes total written by some of the best horror screenplay writers, or so the show says. Its a great concept and as a horror fanatic it seemed like the perfect series for me. I’ve seen it before, but it had been a few years, so when I found it on hulu I thought that I might as well watch it from the very beginning. The link is here. I reviewed each episodes for your enjoyment.


Masters of Horror is a series of one hour long stories that does not have a consecutive plot. If you are wondering how that’s possible, well there’s this cult classic from the 1960’s that also had been remastered when I was a child called The Outer Limits. Basically for one hour every week you get a scary or strange storytelling.



The Black Cat


Based on the title one would think that this episode is a video rendition of Edgar A. Poe’s story and in a way you would be right. We watch as Edgar recites a poem for his beloved wife and submit it to a publisher who asks for a story. We watch as he hallucinates time after time. Soon, he is so deeply ingrained in his hallucinations he can’t tell what’s real and what’s not. Such is how “The Black Cat” is formed.

The acting was phenominal and I enjoyed the gothic settings. The blatant gothic overtures thrilled me. I adored the cute little cat. I think its amazing how they incorporated Edgar’s drunkeness and his insanity as it built. His wife was sick while he wrote. I wished I could’ve seen more.

3 out of 5 stars.

The Ride Home

If she says one more thing about my “F” I swear I’m going to murder her in her sleep. I’ve only been out of school for a few minutes and Mom is already busting my chops. Doesn’t she know that math is my toughest subject? She should, I mean I told her. She knows I can’t multiply to save my life. Why is she staking so much on a single subject?

Shouldn’t she be taking a chance to find out that I’ve been bullied? That non one believes me when I report it? Shouldn’t take a chance to find out the teacher was taking advantage of half the class’ ignorance about the subject to berate us? I love my mother, I think. I’m not really sure how I feel. I know I used to. Of course that was back when I was eight.

I peer at my watch. Only a few minutes has passed. Why do I have to deal with her now? My plans for the weekend are ruined. There will be no watching TV until I pass out or hanging out with my Masque de Vampyre friends at Hot Topic.

“Don’t expect to go anywhere. All you have to do is get one fucking ‘A’ in math. What is wrong with you?” she growls. I roll my eyes. Like she cares. I know that she’s with another man. Someone to make my dad jealous. Like Dad would care. He stopped coming around years ago. I definitely hate him.

“I don’t give a shit,” I say. I’m used to her. Gotta be after living with her for nineteen years, my entire life. My mother doesn’t seem to care. Why would she? I’m just some kid she got stuck after the man she thought loved her walked out on her.

How the hell will I sneak to the Masque de Vampire? I enjoy going to the ball. A long, navy blue ballgown and the crystal chandelier. The ballroom is positively beautiful.

The ten minute drive home feels like six hours, like always. Maybe I should just move out. I can’t afford an apartment, but the excellent Vampyre Emperor would help me. I could stay at his hous until we can find a suitable place to live. Emperor Aron has many more resources than these Mortals, these Humans could ever have. Mom would freak if she knew I’m apart of this “strange” world about Vampyres and the beautiful exchange of blood.

Walking up the steps of our little, brown shack at four-fifteen in the afternoon seems more like a punishment than being locked in my room. When locked in, I’m left alone and I can escape. The shack has thin walls that can be knocked down just by knocking on them. I’ve done it before. A couple of times on accident, actually.

“Karmin, are you listening?”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Why are you being so antagonizing?”

“Good job, Mom. You actually used a word with more than three syllables.”

“For God’s sake, Karmin!” she gasped, closing our wonderfully thin front door.

“God has nothing to do with it,” I mumble.  The three steps to my room are nothing more than three seconds. Three seconds of our painfully pink kitchen that mom had decided at one point was the central part of our universe, though we have no stove or oven, just a sink and a microwave. The time it takes my mother to lock me in is about twenty minutes. My door opens towards the kitchen, but has no lock. So Mother wraps the chains around two posts that are about the same height as the door and locks the chains. The chains rattle as she pulls and yanks. She always forgets the window. As soon as the clanging stops I leap.