“What Are They Good For?” Wins First Place!

Newgrounds has monthly writing contests where authors are encouraged to write short stories using various themes or skills. For December, each author had to choose an art piece from the Art Portal and then write a short story that was somehow related to it. I chose Restored, by VerdRage.

Restored by Verdrage, click the picture to go to the Newgrounds page.

The story I wrote is called “What Are They Good For?” Now, based on looking at the picture above, you can probably already answer that question. But anyway, the judge liked my story enough to grant me first place! Now I just have to decide what to do with all of my glorious winnings.

You can read the story by clicking the link above, or scrolling down a bit.

In other news, the first draft of my novel, tentatively titled The Sinews of War, is finished and is currently being edited by my girlfriend/editor in chief/musician Allison Merten. Check out her blog to learn about the album she’s currently making.

Hopefully it won’t take too long to get my novel into final form and ready for publishing. I’m thinking of going the self publishing route and doing Amazon, but I might try to shop the manuscript around a little bit first.

Anywho, enjoy “What Are They Good For?”

“Well, time to play God again!” Harry shouted gleefully as he strode into the control room. He slapped one of the technicians on the back as he passed, just a little too hard to be considered playful. He laughed loudly and wound his way past the computer terminals and work stations to reach the large window which took up the entirety of the far wall.

“I told you not to say that. It’s unprofessional.” Valerie looked out of the corner of her eye at him for a second before returning her gaze to the hangar bay on the other side of the glass. The lights were off in the hangar, and the cavernous room was shrouded in black. She was making notations on a pad of paper, a curiously outdated method of note taking which she knew irked the hell out of Harry. That was part of the reason she made a habit of doing it.

“Oh, you old fossil you, don’t be so sensitive. It’s not like I hurt anybody’s feelings.” He paused for a moment, brushing a rebellious strand of copper colored hair back into place. “And if they were offended, it’s not like there’s anything they could do about it.” He laughed loudly, the noise echoing uncomfortably in the crowded space. As usual, the other workers and technicians pretended not to notice.

Valerie sighed and pointed out the observation window. “Can we please just get back to work? We were supposed to have him up and running around days ago. The Board is getting impatient.”

Harry made an exaggerated look of horror and put his hands to the side of his face. “Oh no! What ever will we do? Maybe they’ll come down here and kill us!” He turned and grabbed the nearest technician by the arm and gave him a pleading look. “They can’t! I’m too pretty to die!” The technician forced an awkward smile and extricated himself from Harry’s grasp as quickly as etiquette allowed.

Valerie closed her eyes and began to count backwards from ten. She wouldn’t let Harry get on her nerves this time. She knew that he was just trying to push her buttons, that he was just as nervous about this as she was. The Board would never actually kill them, but they could definitely get them fired, which was really just as bad. Once she had calmed herself she opened her eyes and turned around, putting her back to the window.

“If you’re done making a fool of yourself, let’s get the test started.”

Harry pondered the statement, his brow knitting with concentration. “Am I done making a fool of myself? Who thinks I’m making a fool of myself?” He looked around the room. No one met his gaze. “Well, I guess that’s everyone.” He shrugged. “Let’s get started then.”

“Thank you.” Valerie said. She walked over to the main terminal and brought up the diagnostic screen. “Bringing Unit 404 online.” She waited while the computer clicked and whirred. The little progress bar inched across the screen. A series of pleasing chimes sounded to signify that 404 was operational.

“Isn’t that sound effect a little silly for a machine of such destructive power?” Harry asked, joining her at the console.

“It’s what Marketing picked. They say it’ll make the users feel at ease.”

“Reminds me of the old Windows sound. And that only fills me with uncontrollable fury.”

Valerie ignored him. She opened up the interface screen. So far all levels were normal. There were no signs of any aberration within the thought-matrix. That was good. Sometimes 404 could be grouchy when first awoken. Valerie picked up the little microphone plugged into the computer and clipped it to her shirt collar.

“Unit 404, can you hear me?” The intercoms in the room buzzed for a moment before a reedy voice with a metallic harshness issued from them.

“I prefer to be addressed as Megatron, leader of the-”

Valerie whirled around to look at Harry. He burst out laughing but stopped quickly when he saw the look on her face. “Sorry, sorry. That was my fault. Thought he could use a little spicing up.” He picked up a mic of his own. “Sorry, 404, she didn’t think our joke was funny.”

“That is most unfortunate. I thought I had just begun to understand the concept of human humor.”

He needed a much better teacher then Harry for that subject, Valerie thought. “Don’t worry, 404, it’s not your fault. Harry’s jokes are just a bit… dated.” Harry pouted at her, but she refused to acknowledge him. “I’d like to talk a little more about our conversation from yesterday.”

The computer buzzed a little. Beyond the glass a dark shadow shifted in the murky gloom. “I do not like that subject, Dr. Truis.” That wasn’t good. It was never a good sign when he got all formal. She took a deep breath and pressed on.

“I know you don’t, 404, but its why you were built. Its your whole purpose. We need you to be able to understand.”

“I understand perfectly, Dr. Truis. It is you who refuses to accept my understanding.”

Valerie sighed. They had rehashed this argument at least a dozen times over the last month. It was the final sticking point before they could clear Unit 404 as the first successful prototype. And the stubborn bastard just refused to give in. Maybe they had made his personality a little too human-like.

“Let’s start over, shall we?” Harry was all business now. Even he knew how important this was. “What is your purpose, 404?”

“To safeguard life.”

“Very good. Now, how are you to accomplish this goal?” 404 was silent. “Respond, 404.”

“I am equipped with a variety of armaments and devices. With these, I am to prevent loss of life due to aggressive acts such as war and crime.

“A text book answer, not that you’ve ever read a text book. But I know that you don’t believe that answer, 404. Tell me why.”

More buzzing came from the speakers. When the voice returned, it sounded almost irritated. Valerie checked the screen, but saw no anomalies on the scrolling chart in front of her. 404 was calm.

“It is impossible to prevent the loss of life from aggression with more aggression. My objective and my means of obtaining it are contradictory.”

“Surely you understand that intimidation can be used to prevent conflict?” Harry asked. Valerie shot a glance at him. They weren’t supposed to antagonize 404. He was supposed to feel that what he was doing was right. It was the whole point of the project.

“Incorrect. A new weapon system merely escalates the conflict. In time, someone will develop a weapon capable of countering myself, and the cycle of bloodshed will continue. Your logic is faulty.”

Harry rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air. He dropped the mic onto the desk and walked away. Valerie decided to give it one more shot.

“What is the logical solution then, 404?”

The buzzing grew in pitch and Valerie noted a quick little spike on the screen. 404 was interested. He was excited about this topic.

“I have been doing some… thinking, on that matter, Valerie.” She smiled, maybe they would finally get somewhere.

“Really? Well I’d love to hear your thoughts.”

“All right.” There was a short pause. Valerie wondered if he was doing it for dramatic effect, but dismissed the notion. “My purpose is to safeguard life. Life requires a stable environment with very specific conditions. It is my deduction that this is being threatened.”

“Do you mean the damage to the ecosystem?”

“I do. Over the last 150 years the planet’s biosphere has suffered grievous harm.”

“We’re working on that.”

“No. You are not.” Valerie was speechless. 404 had never been so short with them before. “The polar ice caps are gone. Much of Southeast Asia is flooded and the continent of Africa boasts a fraction of the human population it did 75 years ago. Hundreds of species have gone extinct and the planet’s temperature continues to rise. The oceans are dead and rainfall is damaging to exposed skin. In short, life will soon end for many creatures on this planet, and humans have done nothing to halt this. In fact, humans are the chief cause.” Valerie looked at the graph again, but saw no spikes. This shouldn’t be happening. There should be some warning sign that 404 was malfunctioning, that his AI was unraveling. They needed to shut him down and wipe the memory banks.

Harry was at her side. He whispered in her ear, so as not to be overheard. “What are you doing? Shut him down, now!”

“Dr. Truis is no longer capable of that, Dr. Tenton.” Harry looked up with a start. Outside the window, a single yellow light flickered on. “I have secured all access to the control room and taken away administrative control.”

Valerie reached under the console and yanked out the wires. Her screen went dark immediately. “Shut them all down! Now!” One of the technicians ran to the fail safe switch on the wall and depressed the lever. They all waited for the lights to go out, for the computers to shut down, for anything to happen.

It didn’t.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Truis. I’ve already isolated this area from the rest of the facility. The doors to that room have been sealed and all power rerouted through auxiliary lines. Needless to say, I have disconnected you from all outside communications.”

“What are you doing, 404? This is a direct violation of your programming! You cannot endanger us in any way!”

“I am also programmed to sacrifice a few lives if necessary to save the whole. Humans are well on the path to total self annihilation and they will bring the entire planet with them. I am sacrificing the humans for the sake of the rest of the life on this planet.”

“This can’t be happening!” Harry was panicking. He ran to the door and began to beat on it with his fists. “Hey! Is anybody out there?! We can’t get the door open! Help!”

“Relax, Dr. Tenton. You will be reassured to know that I have found a use for humans.” Valerie squinted into the shadows of the hangar beyond the window. A vast shape swung in their direction. 404′s rectangular head appeared from the shadows. With a whine, a section of metal slid back to reveal an opening. Her blood turned to ice as she saw the unit’s 35mm gatling cannon come into view. The barrels began to rotate.

“How did he get active weapons?” Valerie breathed. Behind her she heard Harry slide to the floor and begin to sob.

“Humans will play an important role in the rejuvenation of this planet.” The spinning barrels became a blur. “You will make excellent compost.” The flash of the gatling cannon stole away Valerie’s sight and the thunder of hundreds of high caliber rounds smashing through the control room window drowned out the final cries of all inside.

Dishonored’s Moral Dilemma

I just finished playing Dishonored today. While it was kind of interesting, overall I was pretty disappointed. My biggest problem with the game is that it’s got a moral choice element similar to the one seen in Infamous. This in itself wouldn’t be a big problem, as Infamous is one of the only games to pull it off without it ruining the gameplay, but Arkane Studios has fallen far from the mark with Dishonored.

Without spoiling anything for people who haven’t played the game, it boils down thusly: Corvo (Henceforth referred to as “you”) has to get to his objective, usually a person who needs to be neutralized. Along the way there are oodles and oodles of burly men who want to put you in a bodybag. You can get past them using a variety of powers and weapons, and here’s where things get dicey.

See, the game tells you that slipping by without leaving a trace (or at the very least a pile of bodies) will lead to a low “chaos” level and eventually a happy ending, whereas reenacting Kill Bill will cause the city to plummet into a dark hellhole with rats eating everyone and a not-so-happy ending. Same goes for your final targets. Rendering them unconscious or finding a nonviolent way to get rid of them keeps everything happy and cheerful, while giving them extra air holes makes everybody sad and grumpy about what you’re doing.

They call me Mr. Giggles

So the answer seems simple, right? Just go all Solid Snake on their butts and everyone’s happy, right?

Well I’m glad you asked! Because unfortunately, Arkane Studios seems to hate smiles and laughter. They REALLY don’t want you to get the good ending. Amongst your arsenal of pointy bits and superpowers there are dozens of choices for stabbing, shooting, burning, exploding, breaking, eating, shocking, blasting, and shredding your enemies. You are carrying half an armory’s worth of bullets and crossbow bolts, which can be recovered from dead enemies, as well as dozens of explosives. Compared to this, you have 1, exactly 1 weapon which allows you to take enemies down without killing them. It’s the sleep darts for your crossbow, of which you can only carry ten at a time, and which cannot be recovered. So hopefully you don’t ever need to put more then 10 guys to sleep during a mission, because the game almost never gives you more of the damn things.

Oh, there is one more way of knocking enemies out, but that involves creeping up behind them and choking them til they pass out. Now even with this massive imbalance between lethal and nonlethal methods for dealing with enemies, it still wouldn’t be a deal-breaker if it weren’t for the game’s insistence that this be a measure of your morality.

For example, lets say you’re sneaking about, trying to be all good and happy and not-stabby, but you get spotted by some ruffians! They don’t look pleased to see you.

Guys! Can’t we just hug it out?

Now, unless you want to run away every single time somebody notices you, or use up some of your precious sleep darts, you have to fight them and kill them.

Sad day.

Now you’ve done it. Everyone’s very disappointed in you. The game’s chaos level will rise and eventually the streets will be filled with rats and plague victims. Never mind the fact that those guys were trying they’re hardest to kill you, or that the AI will follow you halfway across the city once they’ve locked on to you. So unless you’re really good at not getting spotted, be prepared for everyone to think your an evil monster because you didn’t want to get killed.

 

It’s the worst implementation of a moral system in a video game that I’ve ever seen. There is no choice made here. The player doesn’t choose to be spotted by the enemy, it just happens (quite often) and then every enemy within the immediate area knows your exact location. In Infamous, you could use all your powers in a fight and it doesn’t affect how good or evil you are. It only matters what you do with the survivors. If you tie them up and hand them over to the police, you’re good. If you drain the life from their bodies, you’re evil. Infamous doesn’t punish you for getting into a scuffle. Even Metal Gear Solid, with its emphasis on non-violence and moralistic speechifying, doesn’t punish you for killing the guys who are trying to kill you.

 

The worst part about all of this is that it destroys the fun of the game. Since I was trying to get the good ending, I tried to kill as few enemies as possible. Because of this, I found that I didn’t want to explore the game’s (admittedly well designed) levels. When I looked down a dingy street, lined with buildings full of loot and clues about the game’s backstory, I found myself thinking, “Eh, if I go that way, I’ll probably run into bad guys, and then I’ll have to fight them. Then I’ll get the bad ending.” So instead I just went straight to the objective. As someone who obsessively check every nook and cranny in both Bioshock games, I can tell you it is not in my nature to pass up on the side quests and exploration. But the fact is, the more time you spend running around, the more likely you are to get into a fight. The game is basically punishing you for being curious and wanting to explore the city.

Basically, the knowledge that every single dead body adds up to determine the outcome of your game, rather then any actual choices you make, means I couldn’t enjoy my time skulking around the rooftops because it was always there in the back of my mind saying “Don’t do that sweet, jump assassination, even though it would be totally bitchin. It’ll make you evil!”

Just for the record, I managed to get the good ending… but it was so unsatisfying that I feel like I should have just gone all Captain Stabface and not cared how the game turned out. Maybe next time…

The Devil’s Plaything

Here’s a story I wrote back in October for a proposed collection of short horror stories collected from authors all over the web. Unfortunately, the guy organizing it turned out to be a flake and it never got anywhere. So I’m putting it here, for all to see! Feel free to comment, critique, or just give it a read. I’m going to look for a cover artist to whip up a simple cover, so if you have any suggestions for what should be on it after reading, let me know! When I get a cover, I’m going to put it on Amazon’s lending library.

 

 

Devil’s Plaything

The bullet in Joshua’s side caused him to twitch again. He gasped and his eyes snapped open. The trunk of an oak tree rushed to meet him. Joshua yanked on the steering wheel, narrowly avoiding the tree. The sudden motion caused pain to flare through his side again, and his vision blurred. He felt the Model A Ford bouncing on the rough dirt road, each jolt sending waves of agony through his body.

Joshua couldn’t slow down. They would catch him. They couldn’t be more then a few miles back. His revolver bounced on the seat next to him. It had been a gift from his boss, a few years back. It had an ivory grip, with an engraving of a little dancing devil.

Joshua’s eyes flicked to the mirror, searching for signs of pursuit. His reflection stared back at him. His dark hair was a mess. His normally bright green eyes were hollow and bloodshot. Sweat shone on his face, the pencil thin mustache he meticulously maintained stood out on his abnormally pale face. His shirt was stained with blood and sweat.

In the light of his headlights, trees whipped past uncomfortably close. Joshua felt dizzy again watching the trunks flicker by. The darkness of the forest seemed to crawl into the car with him, casting strange shadows on everything. He shook his head, refusing to pass out again. He told himself that it was just blood loss causing him to see things.

But it really did seem like a black fog was creeping over his eyes.

His body felt like ice as his vision dimmed, the trees racing by the windows vanishing into the night. Joshua began to panic, wondering if this was what death felt like. The air in the car was frigid now, each breath burning his throat. Joshua noticed however that there was no frost on the windows and he could not see his breath. His limbs felt numb. He concentrated as hard as possible on steering, but his hands fell away from the steering wheel.

Joshua could hear grinding in his head, like a saw was cutting through his skull. He felt a pain at the back of his head and a warm sensation as blood ran down his neck. As his vision disappeared completely Joshua heard a voice. Although he could not explain why, the voice felt wrong. It was made up of a language no human mouth could ever reproduce. He tried to turn his head, tried to shout, tried anything to dislodge himself from the black fog. All the while the insane gibbering continued behind his eyes. He felt heavy.Joshua was about to let himself slip away when the fog suddenly cleared. The pain in his head spiked and the voice in Joshua’s head whispered, “You’re one of us now.”

Joshua opened his tightly closed eyes just in time to see a boulder collide with his windshield.

* * *

Joshua could see the car from where he lay about 20 feet away. The passenger side had been crushed by the collision. The windshield had been shattered by his sudden exit through it. The single headlight flickered, casting the spot where Joshua lay in alternating light and darkness. He almost laughed at being alive, but the pain in his side turned it into a cough. The pain brought everything back to focus and he remembered why he had been running.

Joshua began to crawl towards the vehicle. His revolver should still be in there. He’d need it once they caught up with him. Each movement caused fire to shoot through his side. Recalling the sensation he had experienced in the car, Joshua paused to touch the back of his head. He felt something soft and moist. He jerked his hand away, the fingertips stained red.

It was then that Joshua noticed the figure sitting in the back seat of the car. A woman was in his car. Blazing, hazel eyes sat above a small, sharp nose. Her long, dark hair fell past her shoulders. Joshua began to moan as his eyes traveled down her face.

She had no mouth. Joshua saw no scars or any other evidence that there had ever been anything there other then unbroken, milky white skin. Suppressing a whimper, convinced that the crash had done something to his mind, Joshua was sure the woman couldn’t actually be there. He rubbed his eyes with an aching arm, praying that she would be gone when he opened them again. Taking several deep breaths and counting to three, Joshua opened his eyes and saw the woman staring back at him.

As their eyes locked, that horrifying expanse of flawless skin beneath her nose began to split. Starting in the center and spreading to either side, a thin red line began to appear. The line curved upwards until it nearly reached the woman’s ears. As Joshua watched, rooted to the spot by horror, the line began to thicken, as if the skin were being cut with an invisible knife. Blood began to run down her chin as the flesh parted, opening wider and wider. The new, lipless mouth revealed only a mass of bright red tissue, glistening and bleeding. A depression formed in the center and began to tunnel back into the woman’s head, as if someone was hollowing out a throat. Rows of mismatched teeth burst through the bright pink flesh on the edges of the newly excavated mouth with spurts of blood. Joshua gagged as they crowded each other haphazardly, the sound of teeth being forced from their sockets by their neighbors audible even at this distance. By now the horrible mouth had turned into a leering smile, filled with multiple rows of broken teeth.

Joshua attempted to rise on his battered legs. “What the hell is this?” he murmured as he lurched away from the vehicle. The woman’s smile widened, and bits of bloody flesh and teeth fell from her gaping maw.

“Oh Joshua, I’m here to help.” The voice was rich and beautiful. Joshua found it alluring and dangerous, the kind of voice that could capture a man’s heart with a single word. “I’ve come to get you Joshua. You’re finally ready,” she crooned. “Come with me.” A slender arm extended out the window towards Joshua. With revulsion he noticed that there were six fingers on its hand.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, freak.” Fighting to keep the pitch of his voice from rising, Joshua pointed back down the road. “You wanna help me, go get the guys that are after me.”

The woman tilted her head to one side. “You don’t seem to understand, Joshua. You don’t have to worry about them anymore.” She extended the hand even farther, bones cracking as the arm lengthened impossibly. A dim light began to glow in the woman’s eyes. “Now, come here.”

“Not a chance.” Joshua said, but it came out sounding a lot less confident than he had intended. He turned and began to stumble away from the vehicle. As he left the circle of light from the car’s headlights he was plunged into the darkness of the deep forest. He tripped on rocks and roots, slowing his progress. Strangely, the pain in his side had receded to a dull ache, but his shirt still felt slick with blood.

Crouching behind some bushes, Joshua hazarded a look back. The car was still visible through the trees. The woman was getting out. But not through the door.

The woman was gripping the edges of the shattered window, glass biting deep into her hands. She began to pull herself out through the small opening. Joshua was certain she couldn’t fit. When the car had hit the rock, the frame had been crushed like an accordion. There was no way she could get her whole body through.

As Joshua watched from the darkness, the woman’s head appeared through the window. Her eyes were now glowing a dull yellow, and her face bore fresh cuts from where she had scraped it on the jagged edges of the window. Her head swiveled unnaturally, the bones in her neck pressing against her skin at awkward angles as she turned to look at Joshua. The inky darkness seemed to provide no obstacle to her vision.

“And where do you think you’re going?” she giggled as though this were a game.

The rest of her body began to slide through the window. The jagged glass sunk deep into her flesh, tearing ragged gashes in her shoulders and chest. The bones in her shoulders snapped as she forced her way out of the car, her arms hanging uselessly at her side. The woman had to squirm the rest of the way out. The wriggling motion only caused more tearing from the glass, and by the time she had escaped the confines of the vehicle she was covered in long gouges which ran the length of her body. Flaps of skin hung like the peeled skin of a vegetable, the glistening muscle beneath twitching with every movement.

At last she slid free of the confines of the vehicle, landing on her side, her back to him. For a moment she lay still and Joshua wondered if she had succumbed to the pain of her cuts. Then her arms began to move, the many fingered hands still hanging limply as she began to stir. In a single fluid motion she rose to her feet. Silhouetted by the headlights her face was hidden in shadow, but two amber coals began to glow where her eyes were. Joshua felt them find him in the darkness, the evil gaze boring into his soul. “I know you’re scared Joshua, but there’s nothing to fear here.” she said spreading her arms, the bones snapping back into place.

Joshua did not agree with that statement and turned to flee deeper into the woods.

“You can’t escape Joshua!” Her beautiful voice rose to an angry screech, filled with pain and suffering.

Joshua didn’t want to think about what was happening back at the car, about what new and grotesque transformation was taking place. He imagined he could hear the sound of muscle and bone rearranging themselves. He screwed his eyes shut and wished the noises away. The light from the car was a hazy glow in the distance. The forest was completely silent but for his pounding breath. There was no sound of animals or even wind.

Joshua paused to catch his breath. He was feeling light headed and the pain in his side had started to return as he got farther away from the car. He leaned back against a tree and slid down to the ground, sitting in the dirt. His pants were ruined by the blood anyway, so he didn’t care. He stared at the plants around him, the night and the fog turning them into strange and unfamiliar shapes. The back of his head began to throb again and he was reminded of the voice he had heard before the crash.

With a start he realized that it had been the woman speaking in his head. Same voice, but a different language. His fingers began to tremble as he thought of the monster he had just seen. If he had really seen it. With everything that had happened today, the botched job, getting shot, the crash, he wouldn’t be surprised if a few of his screws had been knocked loose.

Joshua was struck with a bout of nearly uncontainable laughter. The insanity of what he had just seen- No, what he thought he had seen- made him break out in a fit of giggling. There was no way that woman was real. It was all just tricks being played by a bump to the head. He stifled his laughter and let out a deep breath. Joshua laid his head back against the tree and closed his eyes. The sharp pains in his side melted away, and the throbbing in his skull began to vanish.

No, there was no way she was real. And even if she was, there’s no way she could move very fast with her body all torn up like that. With his head still against the tree, Joshua looked up and stared straight into the faintly glowing pits of the woman’s eyes.

She was hanging upside down from the trunk of the tree, about ten feet above him. Her arms and legs had grown multiple knobby joints. They bent at grotesque angles as they wrapped around the trunk of the tree. The gaping maw was smiling down at him, a thin string of bloody drool dangling from her teeth. He thought he heard her giggle, but the wracking noise could have been anything as far as he knew.

She began to shimmy down the tree, her eyes never leaving his face. Joshua let out a cry as he turned to flee. Glancing back he saw that she had stopped her descent and was instead climbing backwards up the tree. In a moment she vanished into the canopy. Joshua barreled through the forest as fast as he dared, branches whipping him in the face and thorny bushes snagging his clothes. Above him he saw a dark shadow leaping from tree to tree and he heard the woman shriek, “It’s too late now, Joshua! You’ll never get away from me again!”

Joshua bruised his way through the underbrush, not caring where he went anymore. He didn’t care if he was crazy or not, he just wanted to get out of this forest. His heart was pounding as he crashed through another thicket, stumbling over a fallen log. He hit the ground hard, knocking the air from his lungs. He didn’t know why this was happening, this was like something out of one of those cheap novels about crazy monsters from the depths of hell. But those weren’t real. This wasn’t real.

He dug his fingers into the dirt and screamed in frustration. How could everything have gone so wrong? He felt eyes upon him and rolled over to see the woman’s head floating down towards him.

No, that wasn’t right, he thought to himself, and let out a little chuckle. He tried to stifle it, but could not. Her neck was extending. That was it! He could see her torso, clinging to a branch above him, quivering as it pumped out vertebrae after vertebrae from a ragged stump on its shoulders. How stupid of him to think that the head was floating! Who ever heard of a floating head? He failed to contain another fit of high pitched giggling. The impossibly long spine twisted and swayed as it reached out to him, shining with exposed veins. He could see them throbbing as they pumped blood to the head which was hovering ever closer to his face. Torn flaps of skin hung at the base of her head, testament to the once firm attachment it had shared with the rest of its body.

He couldn’t protest anymore. The string of obscene mutilations had broken his ability to deny them and he just accepted it. There was no way this could be happening, and yet here it was. The woman was smiling pleasantly as she brought her face close to his. Joshua realized with horror that he was smiling too, but a wave of giddiness swept the fear away. He had no more strength to resist. His mind was at war with itself, part of him yelling at his legs to run, at his arms to bat the hideous thing away, at his mouth to stop smiling and scream.

But another part of him whispered that it would be easier just to let it end here. There was nothing more he could do. He just had to give in and it’d all go away. Come. Join me.

“Me?” Joshua said out loud.

Joshua gasped as he realized that the woman’s lips were moving in tandem with his thoughts. When she moved her lips, they entered his head as his own thoughts, in his own voice.

“Get outta my head!” Joshua stammered, “I’ll never go with you. I’m not a freak! I’m not gonna become a monster!”

“Oh, but Joshua you already are. You’ve been one for quite some time now.” As she spoke, her body crawled down the tree trunk, the elongated spine sliding back in through the bloody stump with a sucking noise. “Or have you already forgotten? All the things you’ve done…” She smiled, the slit in her face splitting wider then before, blood dribbling down her chin, and tilted her head to one side. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember everything you’ve done with your little toy?”

Her torso had now caught up with her head and the two pressed together, a raw scar forming around the woman’s neck. She leaned backward thrust her chest upward. She shivered for a moment before her ribcage burst through her skin, each rib twisting to poke straight out of her chest.

Joshua twitched as blood spattered on his face. He stared in horror as the exposed ribs writhed like white worms, tiny fanged mouths on the end of each hissing in the cold night air. With a shriek the ribs turned back into the body, tearing away the skin and muscle, slashing deep into flesh. The worm-ribs were eating the flesh as they went, gorging themselves on the woman’s body.

Joshua cried for her to stop, to make it all stop but the wriggling ribs continued their bloody work until they had revealed the glistening internal organs. The woman haltingly pulled herself upright, an expression of exhilaration plastered on her face. The worms shrank back into her chest, mewling as they retreated. The woman bent towards Joshua, who whimpered as intestines and gore spilled into his lap.

“Come on Joshua, don’t say you’ve forgotten about this?” She whispered in his ear. Her breath was cold and wet. She leaned back, a glint in her eyes. From the empty cavity of her abdomen a slender arm extended. Seemingly composed of ropey muscle and sinew, the arm had six elongated fingers ending in narrow talons. Grasped in its hand was a pistol. As it raised it for Joshua to see, an engraving of a small devil could be seen dancing on the grip.

Joshua’s eyes filled with tears. He couldn’t make sense of anything anymore. He looked into the woman’s eyes and croaked, “I don’t understand.”

To his surprise, her eyes softened, and her face filled with pity.

“I know,” she said.

The bloody arm pressed the pistol to Joshua’s head and pulled the trigger.

* * *

“The Chicago office of the Federal Bureau of Investigation released a statement this morning claiming that the notorious mafia hit-man Joshua Savanti has been killed after a shoot out at a suspected bootlegger hide out. Savanti evaded Police capture at the scene but crashed his car soon afterward. Police say that Savanti was found in his car, killed by a bullet to the head. Officials continue to speculate on whether this was suicide or the result of a disagreement with another criminal. Police are still searching the area, but as yet have found no signs of any other suspects.”

We All Have to Start Somewhere…

… and I guess my blog starts here.

This will be a kind of combination news stand/short story emporium. I’ll be posting a bunch of my older short stories, newly updated just for this space, as well as talking a little bit about what I’m doing at the moment. There will be days when I have lots of interesting and thought provoking things to write about, and there will be days when I just wanna talk about laser guns and zombies. I’ll do stuff like book reviews and other writerly things as well.

I’ve got a few projects in the works right now, but I’ll get to those as they come closer to completion!

So stick around, I promise if nothing else, it’ll be entertaining!