I remember the beach the most from the day that I met her. Why I’d been there, I couldn’t recall now. The couple walking their petite dog, if you can still call it a dog at such a size, as they talked about the roasting of coffee beans and what nuance of flavor suited a roast the best. The single gull that hung in the air, its wings spread wide just cupping the upturned breeze. And the waves that pelted the shores. The daring naysayers that ignored the word of those standing far back enough to see the ferocity of the waters as they took to their boards and tried to defy nature, to tame it. The waters were warm the day they pulled her under. Continue reading
A waking of spirit, of whimsical misnomers and silence of the new world.
She could feel the warmth first, soft and almost enveloping. It was beneath her fingers, the tips of each feeling granules like sand as she pulled them in and closed a palm over the gathered land. It was down her bare arm as well, and though she felt it at her chest and ribs and still lower at her hips which pressed deeper into the sands, she felt a division, clothing, yes, that is what it was, something simple, but not past her thighs where the sands again welcomed her within their warm folds. It was sand, of course, for she heard the water very near, lapping at a shore that couldn’t be but a stretch away. But she saw nothing, save for a brightness, not color, but light, beyond the thin veils of eyelids. Continue reading
I came to where I’d left off, the sound of screaming filling the dark cell, only now I realized it wasn’t me that was letting it out. The Vampire had sunk his teeth in my neck and drank from my dark blood, a blood that for a Vampire would be like drinking fire. I’d forgotten about this little detail until just now and it recalled me back to the time I first realized this. Continue reading
She stood at the corner of the street, her hair red, dark, but unmistakably red. Her face was a pale slate framed by her dark hair, rounded chin, dark eyes that could bore a hole through a wall if they were to stare just a little too long. She wore a short leather jacket with sleeves that extended the length of her arms, just beyond the tips of her thin fingers. It was zipped up to just under her chin where it hugged her neck, a clasp pulled across the front and belting holding it tightly closed. Her boots were black, thick and capable. The rest of her was covered in black as well, including a skirt, but not for style, for ability. The two swords she had belted across her jutted hips said as much. The gun belted to her other hip said more.
The First Job:
The Hanging Gardens of Babylon…Dammit.
The cigarette was practically smoking itself at this point. The ashen remnants still clung to the rest of its spent body promising to let go just as soon as Hollis Yard realized he was still alive and decided to move. Continue reading