You couldn’t have waited?

Wedding Cake

Samantha beamed at her groom though she wasn’t really paying him any attention. She was smiling for how perfect the day was going. Her train was being held by her beautiful niece and her dress were dazzling white. Her hair was curled, her makeup was flawless. Everything was prefect. Even the groom was, a twenty-five hunk with an oil baron father, days from dying. She smiled for the crowd who was simpering as the groom read his vows. She dabbed the corners of her eyes. She wasn’t listening to what he was saying but didn’t matter really. He just needed to say his and then she’d say hers and then they’d be flying to the Bahamas.

The church doors opened and at first Samantha paid no attention to the screams from the aisle, they had been very over dramatic all day. Only when the gunshots started did she scream herself, pushing the groom away as she dived. Everything happened in slow motion and Samantha was able to turn just in time to see her groom riddled with bullets, ruining his three-piece suit with his blood. She sobbed as the vicar fell gracelessly across him. She had been so close. The bullet storm still streamed overhead, but she could see the cloak room from where she was. If she could just crawl unnoticed to it…maybe she could see what the law said about marrying a dead man. She slipped when she took her first step, biting her red lipstick in pain. She turned over, her whiten dress was now stained by blood.

“Shit,” she hissed. The shooting had quietened though the screaming had not. Samantha held her blood stained dress and looked across at the groom. He wasn’t moving, deathly still. She sniffed and sobbed again. So close. Heavy footsteps approached her, and she groaned and rolled her eyes as the shooter came into view.

He was masked and held the gun to her head, still all she did was exasperatedly mutter, “You couldn’t have waited until he said I do.”



“Who’s Your God?”

Helen hissed and raised her gun to the knight who was now standing opposite her. He was faceless, his helmet twisted and like the rest of his armour, it looked melded to his very skin. His sword was thin and poised in his left hand.

“This isn’t cornering you solider!”

He didn’t move, still ready to attack. Helen sighed and fired. The knight only left a cloud of dust in his place as he leapt over the yellow explosion left by the Magma powder. Her gun was slow to reload and the solider came down on her, sword raised. But the gun proved to be sturdy as well and as the man’s sword hurtled toward her, the flank of her gun came to meet it. The force behind the blade shot through her so powerfully, that once it racked its way out of her body it shattered the earth beneath her.

She groaned as the solider jumped away and stood with his back towards her, standing like a dancer, barely effected by the fight, while Helen stumbled.

The guard had made a good choice when choosing his God. Her legs shook, and her skin now felt like it was burning. Where was hers? Quiet as always.

She stood straight and cocked her gun again. She aimed and shot before the solider had turned around. The red shot of lightening scattered as it hit the blade now between it and its target. The sound of the clash reverberated through the small village and Helen was sent backwards by the force. She groaned again as the sand burnt her eyes and she spat it to the ground. By the time she looked up the knight was already over her, pressing his foot into her chest.

She huffed, “fine you win, happy?”

The helmeted man cocked his head, “who is your God?”

Helen raised her eyebrows: woman, helmeted woman. She was only baffled for a second before her gun was taken from her clutches by one of the townspeople and her hands were taken by another.

“Hey! Get off of that! I have no God! The weapon is just mine.”

The woman solider was unphased and stepped off her chest, allowing Helen to be taken.

“Mine is the God of Fire…you probably want to start using ice powders if you’re going to defeat me next time.”

Next time.

“I didn’t catch your name,” Helen yelled as she was dragged away.

“It’s Lucy!”

“I’m Helen, see you around Luc’.”

She broken out of cells before, she hoped this time was a little more eventful.

“Will you still love me?”

“Do I have to go to bed?” Sammy asked, as if he didn’t look like death walking.

He’d been complaining all day. Too hot, too cold. Starving and then violently throwing up. His face was still covered in dried tears and snot as his mother tried to wipe him down. He sniffled again, perhaps she’d rubbed too hard or perhaps twelve hours straight with no sleep wasn’t particularly good for a six-year-old.

“Because if you don’t the vampires will eat you.”

Sammy didn’t like listening to logic but throw in a vampire or two and he’d do whatever you told him. His mother knew him well. She picked him up, her legs shaking as she stood straight. Clearly twelve hours with no sleep wasn’t good for a thirty-year-old either. She felt just as sick, her skin was sweaty and soaked her hair.

The house had also been seen to by the ill child. Every room was a mess of either toys or dried vomit as Sammy had gone through each and every one, trying to find somewhere in the house that would magically make him feel better.

“But what if I’m sick again?” he whined, rubbing his runny nose on her dress.

“Then mummy will help you clean up.”

“What if I’m hungry?”

“Then I will make you a sandwich.”

“Will you be awake?”

She was falling asleep as she walked upstairs.

“Of course,” she said, convincingly enough for a small child to believe.

He buried his face into her shoulder.

“I’m sorry mummy. Do you still love me?”

“Of course,” she repeated. Well, maybe she could forgive him in a couple of years. After all she had twelve more years of this to come.

Mom with child.jxr

Last Goodbye

“Hey…Cissa, it’s me.”
“Oh, hi hun’…are you okay?”
“Umm…sure. How are you? How’s your day been?”
“It’s been fine, I haven’t done much, mostly slept. Baby kept me up in the night.”
“Aww…but what else? Ho have you been?”
“Honey…what’s that noise?”
“It’s nothing, just talk to me.”
“Dan, you’re scaring me.”
“I know Cissa, I’m so sorry. Please just talk to me.”
“Oh God Dan, what’s going on?”
“…I’m not going to be able to come home tonight. I’m so sorry.”
“Honey…I love you.”
“I know, I love you too so much. I wish I could see you again. And the baby-”
“Don’t think about that.”
“But I want to…they’re going to be the best child I could ever have had. Promise me, you’ll love them and cherish them, no matter what. And let them know…let them know I loved them.”
“What are we going to name them?”
“Oh, I’m sure You’ll think of something great.”
“I want us to decide that.”
“…Yasmin, Zachary.”
“Wow you really want them to be picked last in the register.”
“…Cissa…I love you…so much.”
“I love you too. Honey I love you so much.”
“Honey? Dan?”




“Yes, Mr President?”

“Why can’t they shoot laser?”

“Why can’t they shoot…well it was hard enough to get subjects who can control objects with their mind, telekinesis if you will-”

“I will not.”

“Okay then. But the genetic manipulation was beyond complicated and restricted given how secretive it must be…to repeat the process again with something that isn’t even feasible possible in human natural is-”

“Ah Bill! The twins have got me again!”

“Just stay calm, we don’t need another broken spine. Just remember your training.”


“…I’m sorry Racheal can you repeat that?”

“Why do the mutants have control over your lab assistant. Why isn’t she carrying a Taser?”

“Well can’t Taser the…mutants Mr President. Especially ones that can move objects with their mind, they’ll just take the Taser off her.”

“Which is why they need to shoot laser. They can’t disarm anyone if they have lasers.”

“Yes but…they’ll be able to shoot laser.”

“Exactly! I know I can rely on you Doctor.”

“…Yes, Mr President.”


“I think I’ll need a new lab assistant, Mr President.”

The Collection


The tiny back room was a light shade of baby blue paint that covered over the smooth plaster walls. It left the windowless room feeling bright and calm. He loves it that way, he needed a place where he could relax.  For everything in the needed to be perfect for his collection. Each of the floor to ceiling cabinets were filled with glass jars.

The first few of empty, dirty and broken. He started actually buying jars when he was eight and filled them with shiny pebbles that caught his eyes. The plants he collected were the ones that inspired him to collect more living things. Watching them wilt and their colours fade. It had been delightful to watch.

But… the spiders from his room were better. Trapped in the jars with no air, he watched them scuttle in panic, crawling as far up as they could, before falling back down. Their small crumpled forms with their legs bent over their corpses were fascinating to him and he knew he needed more. For the mice and small birds, he caught he allowed to breathe in their tiny jars. And then he watched them panic and scream as days past and their movements became sluggish until they lay panting and finally went still.

The cabinets were mostly filled with this collection; however, his latest cabinet was part of his new collection. He snapped when a small tabby cat had come bounding up to him. It had wanted food but instead he had strangled it. But of course, a cat was too big for a jar. So, he had cut off the tip of it’s tail and collected that instead. He now had tails, paws, even the squished remains of one eye. He loved this new collection and it helped itch the itch in the back of his head.

But of course soon he’d want to start collecting bigger things…

Well, a finger would have to do.

All Dogs Go To Heaven And…


“Do you know how long it took to get here?”

Satan was shorter than he was expecting. He hadn’t moved from his throne as Sam marched towards him with the blood of a thousand enemies on his face and clothes.

“I have crossed the river of fire, defeated your minions and destroyed the dead souls that have suffered for millenniums. Show me your best warrior and I will defeat him!”

Satan took his time before speaking, which was good. Sam was trying not to collapse with exhaustion after defeating the giant parrot. He hadn’t been expecting the giant parrot. 

“You have…defeated our greatest warrior.”

“Was it the turtle? Why does the lake of fire need a turtle?” 

“No, it was Tiyanak, the doomed innocent.”

 “What the bitey baby thing?”

 Satan sighed, “yes, the baby thing.”

 “Oh, you really should give that title to the turtle. I mean he’s now dead to be fair but-”

“You have spent a lot of time getting down here. There must be something you want. A lover, a lost family member. Name it and I will grant you their soul as long as you leave and never return.”

 John fished in his pocket for the small blood-stained photo.

 “A cat?”

John looked her and then thrust it back in Satan’s face

“Tibbles’ isn’t normally that red, but you get the idea.”

If John didn’t know any better, he’d say Satan was judging him, like everyone else. He huffed, he did not need to explain himself to the Devil.

“Look do you have Tibbles or not?” 

There was another beat before Satan raised his hand and a portal of fire and horrors erupted. Out of padded Tibbles, unscathed and yowling

Tibs! Come to daddy!”

The fluffy cat ran into his arms and let him brush her singed fur. 

“I know, I know. I came as soon as I could.”

He looked back up at Satan. He was definitely judging him. 

“I’ll…umm…leave the way I came.”

His legs shook and the blood in his hair would take forever to get out but Tibbles meowing made it worth it


My hands are red. Everything is now. I stumble to the water side.

“Stand down!”

He heard another gunshot but the bullet imploded before it reached him. Like everything else. The ground shakes as my sore feet limp across it, even the air vibrates around me. I look back. I do not care for the army of men and machinery that have followed me to the waters edge but beyond, my road of desecration. Tall skyscrapers have become nothing but crumble dust howling the grey air. Nothing but red remains of the people…or my family.

“Stand down!” a solider repeats. There all shaking.

“For what it worth,” I say slowly, still they flinch and shoot at my words. When the gunfire stops and the wind takes the metal shells away with it I continue, “For what it’s worth…I’m sorry.”

I fall backwards into the water. As I hit it, it explodes upwards boiling me. As I sink further the water burns through my metal and bone leaving nothing but red.

Men in White Coats

Lizard Men

James watched, he’d been watching it for a while. He’d couldn’t do much else. The government officials that had bought him in had left him in a straightjacket and left him in his cell. The cell had three white padded walls. The other wall was made of reinforced glass so the officials could ‘talk’ with them at a safe distance. The glass shook as one of his cellmates punched it. He was a brutal looking man greying greasy hair. The other sat opposite James, watching him intently with his one eye.

“Ben,” the greying man hissed, “tell me he’s safe.”

The grey man was pointing at him now.

‘Ah shit’, he shuffled in the suit, feeling it tighten around him.

“Oh, I’m safe,” James said, “completely safe.”


He jumped, his arms tighter around his chest and twitched in pain, the grey man now stood over him.

“I’m not talking to you.”

“He’s safe Henry. He’s one of us.”

Slowly, much slower than James would have liked, Henry backed away.

“What…what’s going on?” James asked.

“Oh, you don’t know!” Henry screamed, bashing his fist against the glass, “Fucking sheep.”

“You’re like us,” Ben said, still staring at him. James didn’t know if the one-eyed man had blinked yet. “You know.”

James shifted back. Could he trust them? The government wanted to know what he knew. About the secrets he’d uncovered. It wouldn’t be the first they had tried to do so. He jumped, nearly falling over as Henry hit his head against the glass as he screamed. Yes, he could trust them.
He swallowed, “about the drugs?”

“Hah!” Henry turned back to him, his oily hair sticking to his cheek, his eyes bulging, “the pills? That’s only the start! The chemicals in the air, the signs they put around our kids! You know nothing!”

James finally fell to the floor, his heart pounding against the jacket. He couldn’t escape, the raging man now striding closer to him. Henry pulled him up and slammed him against the wall.

“Please don’t, please.”

Henry paid him no mind, instead he seethed through his gritted teeth and his stale breath wafted over James’ face. He tried not to grimace.

“Soon you’ll see.”

He released James and returned to his glass beating. James, on the other hand felt a cold sweat drip over his skin. The walls were too bright. The room was blinding. Was this the chemicals Henry was talking about?

“Breathe,” Ben said, “In here, it’s not a good idea to lose your sanity.

He sighed. He couldn’t, he needed to tell everyone.

“Why are you in here?” James asked the older man across from him, “Do you know the truth as well?”

“I am the truth,” he replied and said nothing else.

“Why…why am I still alive? I killed one of their uncover agents, they were pretending to be my friend, but I knew who they were. I thought they’d kill me.”

“No,” Ben shook his head, “they need us alive.”


“So, they can experiment on us,” Henry answered, “they pretend this is a hospital but it’s all a lie. They want test their new drugs of us to use on everyone else.”

To use on his family.

“I can’t let that happen.” He tried to stand but fell to the floor once more.

“Finally, you understand,” Ben said.

“Here,” Henry pulled him up, “I’ll help you get out of this.” He started tugging at the straps of James’ jacket.

“Thanks. We’ll show them all.”

The door behind the glass opened and Henry flung himself at the glass so hard it shook.

“Get me out of here you fucker!”

The man dressed in white didn’t flinch from Henry.

“Hey!” James shouted, and the man now looked to him, “you can’t keep us in here, we’ll escape and tell the world the truth.”

The man didn’t even blinked and spoke into the Dictaphone in his hand.

“Patient 301 appears to have successful integrated with the group, however our hopes that their collective disillusions communicated to each other would help improve their dissociation have…not come true.”

“No, you asshole, you can’t hide the truth!” The man turned away, “we will tell the world what you are doing! We will reveal your plans to everyone!” James continue to shout even when the door locked shut behind the man dressed in white.

Careful What You Wish For.

Witches Cat

“Meow.” I tap her cheek, “meow,” I repeat, louder this time.

She doesn’t move. She hasn’t moved in a while. I hop onto her chest and wobbled as I sit upon it. It isn’t moving, even as I pad my paws down on her, she doesn’t move.

I groan; this is bad. I lean closer to her face expecting her breath. Very, very bad. I groan again louder this time as I jump down from her.

She collapsed in the Bad Kitchen, there had to be something in here that could help. The Good Kitchen is where I take nibbles from her hands and steal from the bin. In the Bad Kitchen

I am not allowed to touch anything, none of the coloured bottles nor steaming pots. The food in here did strange and miraculous things. I need a miracle right now.

Mistress likes to look in her books to know what to cook. The only problem is I have never been a good reader. Still, l jump onto the side and look at the already open book. I don’t recognise any of the words as I only know few. I begin to flick through the pages with my tail, looking for anything helpful.

‘Power-Hex…Thunder-Elixir of…-Hex of…-Spell…love-Hex-Hex-Hex’

I hiss at the book for not being helpful and wipe it across the table and onto the floor. It sends to empty bottles to the floor with it and they clatter and shattered on the floor. In the echoing din afterwards, I watch Mistress.

She doesn’t move. I sniff and lick my nose, before hopping back down to the floor. The book has torn at the spine and fallen on a new page.

‘Elixir of…desire.’

Desire…yes I know what that means. I desire to be with Mistress, to have her alive again. I stand on the page, looking closer. I’m lucky, most of the instructions come in the form of pictures, dotted around the edges of the page. Two lily leaves, a teaspoon of toad dandruff, four cod eggs and a cup of kangaroo milk. All reasonable to ingredients found around the Bad Kitchen. I gather them into an empty caldron, nudging the stirrer around with my tail when it looks to be necessary. Mistress always says that the stirring doesn’t matter as must as many witches wish to make out.

When it looks like the pond green in the book and once again look over the text. There are some words in bold…that usually meant they were important.

‘…focus…on wish…CAREFUL…FOCUS’

I can focus on mice but on desire…I desire to not be alone, to have mistress with me. To make sure it’s in the front of my mind, I knock her broom from the wall and push it into her hand, as if we are about to go flying. I groan again at the cold feel of her fingers and lick my nose. With a bit of luck, her hands won’t be so cold in a moment.

I prance back up the side table and look into the pot. Still green and bubbling. I lean into the pot and take a gulp. It’s disgusting and slimy and takes a while to get down my throat.

But as soon as it does, I feel sleepy. I shake my head, but my eyes feel heavy. I wonder if it’s gone wrong but no, I followed the instructions as best I could, I know it’s working. I stumble down and make my way over to her. I’m so sleepy that I decide to curl up on her chest. Perhaps she’ll be awake when I do.