Blood and Stars - Episode 7 - The Gift

I unrolled the length of canvas, it covered the distance from my rear fender to the base of the tree perfectly, of course. I clambered over piggy and braced myself against the back of the trunk, pushing piggy out with my feet. Piggy landed on the noiseless pine needles, I jumped out of the trunk and used the canvas to roll piggy to the tree. I was pleased that the method worked so well, I think I'll use it again even when the canvas wasn't as solid as piggy.

I folded up the canvas neatly and put in back in its place in the trunk. I scuffed up the pine needles a little where piggy had crushed the thick layer. I called Him;

“He is ready for you Sir.”

Click.

I looked at my phone, that was not the normal way of things. My mind was muddled, what had happened, what had changed which would mean he wouldn't talk to me? A horn blasted from the night, I snapped to attention and swerved to avoid the oncoming truck, the trucker swore at me and shook his fist as he drove on. I stopped, sucked in cool night air, collecting my thoughts before moving off again. I got out of my car on arriving home, stripping off as I entered the house, going straight down to the beach. The cool salt of the water unkinked my brain and I swam parallel with the shore for a way before returning to the beach and my condo.

I dripped up the wooden stairs, crossed the deck and entered my condo, the strong pungency of cigar smoke hit me. I snapped on the lights, He was sat in a chair smoking a huge cigar. Some ash fell on the oak floor, I managed to mask my feelings of irritation and instead brought an ash tray over.

“You should dry yourself, you're dripping on your lovely oak floor, such a shame to ruin it.”

In my shock at His presence I had forgotten my own naked state. I went to my bedroom without a word, towelled myself and put on a bath robe. Returning to the living room I poured myself a large bourbon.

“Would you care for a drink Sir?”

He gave His assent. I handed Him a large bourbon then seated myself opposite Him.

“I expect you are wondering why I am here.”

I nodded, His smoke and gravel voice blending with the cigar smoke and bourbon as if the match were deliberate; it was, at least on my part.

“I wanted to congratulate you in person for the excellent results you achieved with Piggy.”

I stiffened a little, He noticed and gave a smirk;

“Interesting you should also choose to refer to my younger brother by his childhood nickname. Although it was a logical choice.”

So Piggy was His brother, well I'm glad I didn't stint on the gaffer tape.

“I have brought you a gift, a token of appreciation one might say.”

He gestured with his cigar to a wooden box on the coffee table. I moved to the table, then stopped.

“Go ahead, open it.”

I lifted the lid and took out the tissue paper wrapped contents, whatever the gift it was heavy. I set the package down on the table and removed the tissue paper. When I saw what He had given me I gasped.

I took the lamp over to the side board and plugged it in. I switched the lamp on, the sheen of the antique brass glowed in the diffused light from the shade.

I sat down again. We admired the soft light from Sherri's eye sockets as we finished our drinks.

Blood and Stars - Episode 6 - The Needle

Piggy wasn't being very cooperative, but the thick leather straps kept the worst of his thrashing around in check. It was this jerking about which forced my hand when it came to designs, anything delicate or complicated had to be reserved for the back and torso because they could be immobilised more effectively. The limbs I usually leave until last, the subject has passed out or died from shock by the time I get round to them. A pity really, tattooing the top of the foot was exquisitely painful, the screams a symphony of agony.

I slapped the piggy again and returned to pricking out my design on his torso, the colours were building up well, firework flowers were exploding across piggy's chest and abdomen. They were rather large but then piggy provided a considerable canvas so it seemed wasteful not to use as much of it as possible. I would add the trails later, piggy has a weak heart, he would not last much longer.

I stopped briefly, ever the critical artist. I would have to use the mechanical needle to fill in the night sky, a pity really, I didn't like to use it for my subjects unless it was essential, one step removed. That was part of the pleasure, being so close to the unwilling canvas. With piggy being so large though, and my schedule being out of sync thanks to Sherri's interference, it would have to be that way. There was the advantage of consistency when covering large areas when using the electric needle. I sighed. And piggy was such a large area to cover.

Piggy had been silent for a while now, I looked up and his lips had begun turning blue. He was dead, how very annoying, He would have particularly enjoyed piggy's screams as I decorated his feet, especially the soles. A low rumble came from piggy and then a foul odour, yup piggy was dead alright.

“Oh you are a dirty piggy.”

I sighed again.

“Piggy's going to have another shower, pity piggy is silent for this one.”

I blasted him with the hose again, blood, skin and small crusts of ink swirled into the central drainage hole. Piggy's bodily fluids were also washed away, and the smell also reduced in intensity. I left piggy to drip dry for a while, I turned on the extractor and whatever stench remained vented outside.

I would leave finishing piggy for a while, I wanted a swim and something to eat.

Blood and Stars - Episode 5 - The Tape

His muffled scream rang round the room as I ripped off the duct tape which had been covering his eyes, the sedation had worn of then...

I smiled and leant in close, his eyes were opened so wide they looked like pool balls, pupils darting side to side, blood already pricking forward where the skin had been torn off when the tape was removed.

“Now piggy, you're a good squealer aren't you, hmm? Well piggy, He likes it when they squeal, He'll be real pleased with me for this cos you're gonna be a noisy sucker huh?”

Beads of sweat were forming along his hairline, saline streams dripping onto the table. I bought the table from a buddy of mine in the trade, it was the actual table Arthur Gary Bishop was strapped to and the trinity administered, what a thrill!

I ripped the tape from his mouth, his screams of pain filled the room, I closed my eyes and allowed the euphoria to wash over me, I never tired of the screaming.

“Wha..what are you do-doing?!”

Bubbles of blood burst on his torn lips. I raised a finger to my own lips.

“Shh, piggy mustn't speak, only squeal. Piggy thought he was going to have some nasty sex didn't he? Piggy was wrong, piggy is going to die.”

“No, no, stop please, I'll give you money, whatever you want!”

I slapped him across the face with the back of my hand.

“If piggy doesn't keep quiet, piggy's mouth will be taped up again.”

He made as if to speak again but, seemingly having thought the course of action through, remained silent. I waited to ensure the silence then began the task of removing the cocoon of duct tape from the piggy, such a hairy piggy, He would think that nasty. I was impressed with the efficiency of the duct tape as a hair removal system, neat strips of naked skin were revealed, ever growing screams the sound track to my work and ignited fire in my loins.

Time to slice, piggy had passed out, weak piggy. Blood removal before making him a work of art, another serious challenge, at least with Sherri there was no epic body hair removal and, even better, she was already dead.

I turned the hose on him, an icy jet blasted his freshly plucked pink body, piggy yowled, music to my ears.

“Time for your cut and colour piggy.”

Blood and Stars - Episode 4 - The Message

Headlights off. The familiar rattle, rumble and shake of the dirt track to my condo soothed me almost to the point of sleep. Now that I had delivered Sherri to Him I hoped I would return to his good graces; although the repair of my floor suggested I already had. I stopped outside my condo and switched off the engine, I listened to the ticking for a few moments, loud against the dull roar of the ocean.

Tiredness was pulling at my eyelids but before I could sleep I had to know, He would have left me details of my next commission and I liked to sleep with the dossier under my pillow to help me formulate my design.

On the kitchen counter lay a manila folder, the thin crimson string around it tied in a neat bow. I snapped the string with the outer edge of my hand and spread out the contents on the counter; photos, phone and credit card bills, diary pages, the inner workings of someone's life. Man, this guy was dull! Seriously, this guy would have a sloth reaching for the 12 bore to end the pain! As ever He had a reason for referring this guy to me but I didn't know what the reason was, not that I really needed to know the why, just the who, where and when. Actually I'd just shoot this guy and have done with it then work on him later but He didn't like that method for any subject, Sherri had only confirmed this.

I made myself a chicken mayo sandwich while reading the guy's bio, so far so dull. I moved to the couch and carried on reading, referring to the photos when indicated. Oh here we go; he likes a bit of bondage, yeah alright! Nothing wrong with kinky sex of course, good to mix it up from time to time but it did give me a way in and he wouldn't know what trouble he was in until it was far, far too late. Now I'm strictly speaking a ladies' man but when the commission necessitate, or my overactive libido demands it, I'll flip to being a bi dude. I like to be pretty dom with a guy and this man seemed to be into that, although I'd need a lot of body waxing strips - yuck, maybe that stuff comes in rolls like duct tape...hmm duct tape would be much cheaper and boy would it make piggy squeal. I made a note to pack the omnidirectional microphones, would make the captured sound much more atmospheric, He'd like that. Normally I didn't need them but switching it up a gear would be fun and He'd appreciate the extra effort.

I yawned and stretched; sleep, I had time in hand before the deadline. I hadn't had an opportunity to wear my leather harness and chaps for a long time.

Zombie Luv Flash Fic Contest: Marrying the Dead

The fireflies cast a soft warm glow in the dell, the flames of the tall candles flickered in the gentle evening breeze. Sam looked around, everything was just so, he smiled his crooked smile and closed his eyes to drink in the atmosphere. The night had come at last, the waiting was over. John limped into the glade;

“It's perfect Sam, just perfect.”

Sam moved over to John and kissed him, as he moved his head away the candle flames were reflected in his eyes. John pressed Sam's nose back into place and flashed him a toothless grin.

The registrar shuffled in;

“A beautiful setting boys, and a harvest moon to boot!”

The guests started entering from all sides of the glade, a low moaning and groaning permeated the forest. Jason and Spencer had deadly nightshade boutonnières, matching Sam and John's own. Spencer waved Jason's arm and then put it on the seat next to him. Jason could have been crying but it was more probable that his eye socket was infected again and the wound was weeping. The guests took their seats, the registrar beckoned Sam and John to the front, mindful of the weakened tape around what was left of his wrist.

The registrar cleared his throat, four cockroaches crawled out and scuttled off into the dark, one was grabbed by a guest who munched it nonchalantly. The moaning and groaning quieted then stopped.

“We are gathered here today to witness the join in marriage of this zombie and err this other zombie. Instead of the usual set of vows, Sam and John had decided to declare their love for each other through poetry; Sam perhaps you would like to go first?”

Sam and John stood facing each other, Sam took a much folded piece of paper out of his jacket pocket;

“When first we met, I thought my heart would beat again,

I have loved no other as I love you,

I give myself to you, as you give yourself to me,

Together in unending death.”

A pause, the sounds of the night and soft moaning from the guests were all that could be heard.

“Now John,”

John took a deep breath and exhaled through the holes in his torso.

“When first we met, I wanted more than just your brain,

I had no doubt that we were meant to be,

I give myself to you, as you give yourself to me,

Together in inevitable decay.”

The appreciative and emotional moaning from the guest grew a little louder but stopped when the registrar moved forward and placed John's hand in Sam's. John shuffled a little closer to Sam to rejoin his hand.

“We have heard the declarations of love and devotion from John and Sam so I make my declaration that they are now joined together in marriage and wish them a long and peaceful death. You may now kiss your husband.”

Sam and John leaned is and kissed, the guests erupted into applause which was interspersed with the sound of fingers falling from hands to the forest floor.

(c) Lexx Clarke 2010

Guidelines:

• Word count: maximum 1.000

• The story must be a romance between two zombies. Make it as horrific as you like. ;)

• Stories containing animal cruelty, torture, graphic sex or violence, any form of exaltation of violence, racism or other forms of prejudice will be immediately disqualified.

• Post your entry on your own blog, with a title resembling this:

Zombie Luv Flash Fic Contest: Story Title

• Leave your story title and a link to the story entry post as a comment at mari's randomities: http://marisrandomities.blogspot.com

• Copy and paste the contest logo and the guidelines at the end of your entry post.

Blood and Stars - Episode 3 - The Delivery

The moon rose in the sky; illuminating the scene as I closed the trunk of my T-bird on Sherri's now decorated corpse. Almost twenty four hours since I'd accidentally killed her and then had to confess my transgression to Him. My unscheduled extra gift to Him was safe now, hidden from the world again, best thing for her really. I slid into the driver's seat, turned the key in the ignition and rumbled my way toward the main road. I kept my headlights off, no sense in alerting passing planes to my presence, the fewer people aware of my condo's existence the better. The rough road surface rumbled under my wheels, each pothole, bush and turn as familiar to me in darkness as in full sun.

Once on the main road, I turned left and switched on my lights. The soft yellow light played across the road, a roadside bush partially caught in the beam cast a finger like shadow ahead. I turned on the radio, the gentle sound of Peggy Lee's voiced burbled from the speakers. Stretching my right arm along the worn leather of the front bench seat, I settled back and coasted into the deepening dark.

I followed the route to the delivery location with ease, it felt like I had driven it a thousand times, it was probably more like a hundred and fifty but hey, nothing wrong with a little hyperbole between friends right? I had no exact idea where I was, road signs round here aren't what you might call plentiful and I only had turns, distances and landmarks as guides rather than town names. The final turn approached, I hauled the car off the road and into woodland. I parked under the large pine tree and quieted the engine. I drank in the cool night air, the accident was nearly dealt with and I would once more be able to return to fulfilling His desires.

I stepped out of the car, the carpet of pine needles pleasantly prickled the soles of my bare feet. I opened the lid of the trunk, I dragged Sherri's corpse easily over the stoop of the trunk and laid it on the pine needle carpet under the large pine tree for Him to collect when He was ready. I pulled out my phone and called His number.

“She is waiting for you Sir.”

The gravel poured;

“Good, go home, your floor has been cleaned and sanded, such a mess that girl made.”

My heart rose;

“Thank you Sir, I..I...”

Click.

Well, that's the main problem solved, I loved that floor.

(c) Lexx Clarke 2010

Blood and Stars - Episode 2

Blood and Stars – Episode 2

The Inking

The sun's first light tore through the inky blue night. An amber glow edged into the room, I sat back on my haunches and watch the sunlight play in the beads of sweat on my hands. I had been working all night on Sherri. Death was an improvement really, she was the sort of girl my father would have described as homely, which is a polite way of saying that Sherri wasn't much to look at.

Now, adorned with delicate patterns she was beautiful. The advantage of using a corpse as a canvas is that it doesn't make as much mess as a live one. Although the artistic integrity of scar tissue should not be entirely dismissed. I eyed my labours critically, just black ink for this piece, the additional pain caused by using coloured inks would be unnoticed by a corpse therefore the arousal and thrill factors almost zero. The whole body twitching and muffled screaming always made me feel good, even thinking about it now caused a stirring in my loins.

As the dawn crossed the sand of the beach below my condo the appeal of an early morning swim grew. The inking of Sherri could wait for a while, she wasn't going anywhere without me. I put the used scalpel blades in a sharps bin and cleaned the scalpel handles with alcohol wipes before replacing them in their pockets in my kill kit. All present and correct, clean and tidy, I rolled up my kill kit and tied the canvas webbing strap in a neat bow. I took it to the bedroom and put it in the safe in my wardrobe, I spun the combination lock to secure it, one accidental discovery was quite enough.

I pulled off my shirt and threw it in the open laundry hamper, my trousers and briefs followed and I strode out of the sliding doors from my bedroom onto the deck. Not for the first time I was grateful for my condo's remoteness. I stretched in the cool dampness of the morning, then descended the steps and ran across the beach into the surf. The icy salt tang of the water made my skin tingle and nerves sing, I dove into an oncoming wave and swam submerged for several yards. As my head broke the surface I exhaled, water sprayed from my lips. I made for the shore with a slow easy crawl, I knew that a lot of work still lay ahead and time was against me. All the time I was dealing with Sherri was time I wasn't doing His bidding.

Shivering a little in the gentle breeze rolling across the sands I ran back to my condo and straight to the bathroom. A good hot shower would warm me and I would be ready to work again. I relished the hot jet of water battering my skin, the heat and pressure pleasurable pain. I pulled myself out of reverie, soaped my body and rinsed, no time to wallow in warm water either. I shut off the water, opened the door of the shower cubicle and pulled a towel towards me. A brisk towelling and I was ready to ink but my growling stomach was insistent about being fed first.

In the kitchen I refreshed the percolator and whilst the coffee brewed I fried thick bacon steaks and eggs in a little oil which I ate straight from the pan. I poured a large mug of coffee and took this to Sherri, collecting my art box from the sideboard as I passed. Setting the coffee down on the floor, I knelt and opened the box.

On first glance my art box looked like any other, possibly containing tubes of oil paint or pastels for instance. My box held thin brittle sticks of high quality willow charcoal but with a secret, the charcoal sticks lay in a removable wooden tray which covered a space beneath. In this space were several sharp points, rather like darts but without the plastic flights. Also therein were two small spirit burners, a disposable lighter and a miniature pestle and mortar. I realised I had forgotten to bring a jug of cold water in from the kitchen so I went to collect this.

On my return I laid out my tools and then broke of a small piece of a charcoal stick and dropped it into the pestle and mortar. I crushed it gently to a fine powder and added enough water to make the powder into a thin paste. Lighting one of the spirit burners I picked up one of the points and put the tip into the flame. Once this was red hot I dipped it into the black pigment and then applied the point to Sherri's skin. I made a series of dots following the soft scored outlines I had made with the scalpel blades. I repeated the heating, dipping and pricking process many times before I had completed inking Sherri's back. It was a painstaking and laborious process but I knew that the end product would make all this attention worthwhile.

The sun had reach its zenith when I finished the last tendril wrapping round Sherri's left foot and thus completed art work covering the back side of her corpse. Time now for a rest from my labour, some lunch and another swim before flipping the corpse over and turning my attention to the front. I stepped out on to the deck and drank in the midday heat.

(c) Lexx Clarke 2010

Blood and Stars - Episode 1 – My first mistake

I'm not really sure what I was hoping to achieve, or why it was ever a good idea but now illuminated by the cold hard light of a moonbeam and with blood dripping off the knife in my hand I had more questions than answers. I fought to bring my ragged breathing under control, the sweat now cooling on my forehead, the pounding of my heart sounding loud in the room.

I let go of the knife, it clattered onto the floor, emphasising the quiet. I looked down to the knife, I had hoped it would land with the point buried into the wooden floor with the handle left to quiver.

My legs gave way, I landed on my side face to face with the corpse that had once been Sherri Greenlowe. Her eyes bored into me, unblinking and glassy stare matched with her mouth twisted in ugly terror. Her last moments alive etched themselves on my mind, her cries of protest and questioning still rang in my ears. This was supposed to be the end of it but something told me it was only the beginning and my world was going to take a distinct turn for the worse.

I thought it probable He would not be pleased with this result although in defence of my actions He'd not made any requests for Sherri to be brought to him. Still I should have at least asked Him I suppose, but then I hadn't planned on killing Sherri, it just happened y'know? Mental note to self though, don't leave your kill kit where any casual acquaintance might come across it, seemingly leads to a large amount of upset, strings of awkward questions and, of course, someone getting killed.

I needed a drink, a very large drink. I stood up, moved to the kitchen and took vodka from the freezer and cranberry juice from the refrigerator. The hot penny smell was driven from my mouth and nostrils by the fire of Polish spirit. My killing schedule was all out of whack now and I was supposed to be much calmer at this point of proceedings. Fuck I hate it when people come by unannounced, I need time to prepare for being around real people, I had tried to explain this to Sherri on several occasions when she had hinted at an impromptu appearance. She had only laughed and pushed my shoulder in that annoying way people do when they think you're just messing with their heads and being deliberately provocative. In truth this action merely serves in me wanting to put my fist through that person's face.

Half of the drink now consumed my breathing and heart-rate had returned to normal. My mind was still racing however, mainly with things like; there's a fucking dead woman lying on my hardwood floor, how I am I going to get rid of her body? I looked over at Sherri's cooling corpse, I noticed with some irritation that pools of blood were forming on my European oak floor, typical; even in death she was causing problems. I realised too that disposing of her body and getting blood out of a wooden floor were insignificant given that I had to tell Him that I'd killed out of bounds, fuck it, He would be seriously pissed when I told him but He'd get over it.

Telling Him, well no time like the present I suppose, the sooner I feel the burn of His wrath the sooner I can be forgiven for straying. I slid down the wall and landed with a soft thump, legs akimbo. I put my drink down beside me and pulled my phone from my trouser pocket. Deep breath, gulp of drink – time to dial, the hounds of fate baying in the distance. The call was answered after one ring, the silence heavy in my ear.

“Speak”

The gravel-strewn voice tumbled into my ear and rattled my brain.

“Sir, I...”

“You fucked up didn't you?”

I paused, “Yes”

He sighed, “Should I know the person?”

“No, she was an ex-girlfriend, it wasn't planned Sir”

I had picked up the knife and had begun doodling on the wooden floor with its point.

“I should fucking well hope not indeed!”

Sherri's right hand was within reach, clamping the phone to my ear with my shoulder I pulled it closer, wedging her forearm under my thigh so her hand was held upright between the tops of my thighs.

“Do...do you want her anyway?”

He pondered this for a few seconds, I started slicing through the top joint of her thumb, a stylised eight pointed star I thought would look good.

“Yes, I think I can find a use for her, decorate her for me”

A grin spread across my face, “I've already started Sir, she will look like the night sky”

A click and the line went dead. I stopped slicing and ended the call on my phone. I poured the last of my drink down my throat. I went to the kitchen for a refill and then brought my kill kit to Sherri's side. It was time to work.

Poetry Chunter

Today's post is to share some of my poetry, haiku and senryu. Both forms are essentially the same i.e. 5 - 7 - 5 syllables but the content is what distinguish them - haiku are about nature and the seasons, senryu are about politics, satire or more *ahem* sensual themes.

Haiku

Pace to pace to stare
at the window waiting - stop
her cold hands wrung raw

~~~~

let the tears flow free
raw pain washed in hot salt tracks
release to grief shared

~~~

moonlit glint of steel
the warrior makes his mark
life silently leaves

~~~

niveous blanket
wraps green pine tree branch
scintillates starlight

Senryu

finger traces chest
lips move to kiss sweet washboard
he loves to work out

~~~

whisper soft touches
truth or dare willing recruit
white cotton removed

~~~

deceit unravelled
torn fabric of lies hangs limp
smug - I told her so

(c) Lexx Clarke 2010

Some words of warning

Those of you who have been kind enough to visit my blog already will know that I created it as a place to post things that I have written. Some of you have even been kind enough to read my work and offer a critique. For those of you that haven't read anything I've written I think it's only fair to give you fair warning about what I write.

I write fiction with violent characters and themes, they don't pull any punches and will swear...a lot. What I write is not for the faint of heart, there will be guns, knives, sex and violence. I also try and show some level of humanity in people that would appear to have none, some chink of the real person battered and bruised, lost and hidden. I'm not going to give schmaltzy empty endings though because too often life is not like that.

I'm aware that there will be those who will be mightily confused by the content of my writing and the person that you have come to know. I actually am as easy going and fluffy as you think I am but my inspiration comes from without, not within. Remember though, it's fiction!

The reverse is true of my haiku and senryu, all that does come from within, from my soul and the part which is so often hidden for fear or being crushed. It is an unremitting exposition of me.

So please, read and enjoy, comments are always most welcome but don't say I didn't warn you :o)

Firstyball

So I finally caved and set up a blog. There are many reasons why it's taken me this long to start my journey into the world of blogging. The main reason is that I really didn't think I'd ever have something to say that I'd want to share with the world - then again I thought the same about Twitter and look what happened there!

I also realised that if I want to get anywhere with my writing I needed somewhere of my own to 'publish' it, this has become even more important since I discovered Flash Fiction and Serial Flash, it's all very well creating great little pieces of fiction but if no-one really ever reads them somehow it becomes a questionable use of time.

Here my blog begins....