Fan

I’ve been living alone this way for so long I don’t remember what it’s like to talk to other people. I order my food online and grunt to the delivery man at the door as I hand him my debit card – my bank account is stocked automatically.

All there is, is you my darling.

My family won’t talk to me anymore; they say I am delusional. But you and I know better.

You and I talk, sometimes. There was only that one time when we met and I was able to look you in the eye, in person. But we talk now, don’t we.

I know I’ve told you already, but I loved you the moment I set eyes on you. Your eyes a brilliant blue and your teeth are the most perfect I have ever seen on a real person. You are so talented.

You and I were meant to be together. I know it. I dream about you all the time. When I see your picture or when I see a video on Youtube it’s as if you perform just for me.

I caught you on a chat on Twitter once, remember? You said you remembered meeting me back then and you loved what I was wearing. I was so happy when you said that.

But it’s our nocturnal chats I love the most, when we meet in the ether and you tell me you love me and that we were meant to be together for all eternity.

I believe it’s true. I believe you are right. We are soulmates. I will wait for you.

I’m still a virgin. I’ll wait. I love you so much.

Slip

If I can just get it straight.. he thought, slurping back the drool that had pooled again in the corner of his mouth.

The slip was fine, cut thin sliced nicely into her flesh. Her gag a prop – it made her feel better, as though she was a victim instead of a willing participant.

“Almost finished my love,” he said. Hard as a rock, he throbbed with longing. It had been at least fifty minutes since he began.

As the blade reached the point of the pentagram she let out a whine. He glanced at her.

“It doesn’t hurt, does it?”

She nodded emphatically.

“Good girl,” he smiled.

He placed the sharp tip of the knife at the point and lifted the flesh. She whined louder and he licked his lips in anticipation.

“May I?” he asked. He wasn’t sure now. He’d never taken this final step with her. She was scarred from collarbone to feet, but never like this.

Her eyes pleaded with him but told him nothing. He wouldn’t take it off without her consent. He waited, pulsating with the beat of his heart.

Even as the tears streamed down her flushed cheeks she nodded. It wasn’t good enough. He pulled on the fabric of her gag and she closed her mouth and swallowed.

“Say it,” he whispered.

Her smile was grateful, her voice raspy with need. “Flay me.”

He replaced the gag and stood. He straddled her body and bent at the waist. He leaned over her, the light still shining directly on her skin, her blood glistening.

He placed his blade flat against her shoulder and began the slip.

Time stood still when he performed this way. Slowly at first until he found his depth, his art smelled like copper and screamed of molten pleasure both for himself and his subject. Closer and closer he came with each tip, until all five were begun. By the time he reached the centre of the star he could all but taste it. The five points lifted, curled back, he stepped away and admired his work.

He bent down to gaze into her glazed over eyes, knowing that the adrenaline did the same to his.

“Are you ready, my love?”

She smiled past her gag and nodded. He placed the blade at her cheek and she pushed against it, cutting herself a fine line. A single drop of blood hung, suspended from the bottom of the slice.

All at once he stood he lifted he slipped she screamed he roared he came she came it was done.

He loved his job.

Truth

“It’s true what they said about you, isn’t it? When you were alive I mean?

“Now that you’re gone I guess it doesn’t matter. The way you died was horrible, and I’m sorry for that. Not that I had anything to do with it! Don’t come haunting me!

“Unless you want to do it nicely of course. You can watch over me if you like.

“I heard some interesting things today, at the funeral. I’m the only one here now. Everyone’s gone home, even the funeral director. I hid under a pew so we could have a few minutes in private.

“Anyways, I heard some things about you today that I never knew. Even though we were lovers for all those years it seems like maybe I hardly knew you at all.

“I have to wonder if the guys who put your face in that giant sandwich press had known you better maybe they wouldn’t have done it.

“Or come to think of it maybe that’s why they did.

“To me you were always the badass. The one who liked to whip me good and then kiss it all better. The one who sold the most drugs.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were donating all the proceeds to feed the poor?”

Within

Flame

In your blood there must be fire
Let me burn upon my tongue

In your eyes is love’s reflection
Might my smile there ever young

On your breath the twist of sour
Distasteful words are mine to learn

In your hand is grasp’d my spirit
Now I writhe, within I turn

Make me hear your growled confession
How I wish for quiet here

Make me see your hallowed scarring
Stinging in my eyes your tears

Hold me in your deathly chalice
Here I drink your stormy wars

Make me dance your holy heartbeat
Eternally my pulse with yours

LGHill

Two Hari

“Where are you?” I whispered in the night. The day had gone by slowly. I spent it writing, gardening, trying to keep my mind from wandering and wishing I could be with him again.

Once in bed I covered myself and waited, calling occasionally.

“Where are you?”

I’m here Faith.

I felt him, the weight of him beside me. I heard the faint rustle of his feathers. I felt the pressure of his existence beside me.

I love you Faith.

His voice sounded like the singing of fine crystal. His breath rang in my ears, through and past my regular method of hearing, directly into my mind.

“Hari?” I asked, knowing before he answered that it was him. My Angel. Hari. “Why are you here?”

Because you need me, my love.

I stiffened. He had always been there when I called, and I supposed I could have called him now, sub-consciously. I had been lonely for some time. Only once had he come, unbidden, and then only because I didn’t yet know of his existence.

“Why do I need you?” I was suddenly filled with dread.

Not for any reason you need worry about…

I felt him slide his hand up my arm to my shoulder, I felt him nuzzle my cheek, his breath lifting the fine hairs. Like fine lead crystal, Hari’s substance is delicate and yet heavy. I didn’t move for fear of breaking his tentative hold on Earth, beside me.

“I love you Hari.”

Faith… you are my reason for being…

With that he was gone.

One Hari

 

Faith.

My name breathed so softly in my ear I didn’t bother to open my eyes. I believed it was the breeze, warmed by the rising May sunlight whispering through my window.

Faith. It’s me, your lover.

So long since I had a lover, I had to be dreaming still. That was it, the remnants of my fading dream. I snuggled down into my feather pillow and wished for deeper sleep; to let go of the awareness of the morning light. My blanket lay heavy and warm upon my shoulder, I stretched and settled back to my weekend slumber.

Faith.

I couldn’t ignore it anymore, no matter how soothing it felt. I was alone in the house – or I should have been. Perhaps there was someone calling me from outside the window.

I dragged myself out of the bed and knelt before pushing back the gauze curtains. My nosy neighbour was there watering his roses and waiting for a peek at my silk chemise-covered breasts. He waved. I waved back. No way was he subtle enough to have whispered my name.

I knew it must have been Hari. He was back in my life again.

feather

Reaper

“Step back now please,” said the police officer. He shuffled forward with his palms raised, pushing the curious crowd back across the white painted line of the parking space. “There’s really nothing to see here.”

“But sir,” said one of the onlookers. “I know that girl.”

“Which one,” the cop asked quietly.

“The one on top.”

“How can you tell? She’s face-down?”

“I recognize her tattoo. I inked her myself.”

“Step under the tape please,” offered the cop, lifting the yellow plastic crime scene ribbon. “MacPherson!” called the cop over his shoulder. “Talk to this man.”

“I know her,” the bystander repeated to MacPherson across the bodies of two naked women – a blonde on top and a brunette on her back underneath.

“What’s your name, sir?”

“Reaper,” said the man. “First name Grim.”

MacPherson widened his stance. “And what’s your real name?”

“That is my real name,” said Reaper.

MacPherson shook his head. “Okay fine. So how do you know her?”

“I tattooed the knife in her back.”

MacPherson looked down at the body. The hilt of a knife was, indeed, tattooed on the woman’s lower left shoulder, the point appearing to have been plunged into her body.

The coroner stepped up to give his orders.

“All right,” he said. “Let’s lift her.”

Four investigators, two at the blonde’s shoulders and two at her hips, attempted to lift her.

“She’s stuck,” said one of the investigators.

The coroner crouched and lifted the woman’s left shoulder a few inches. “What the…” whispered the coroner.

MacPherson turned back to see Reaper grinning. “It’s a damned good tattoo even if I do say so myself.”

Visitor

My mind is haunted with thoughts of you. If only you could see or hear me. If you could just speak…what would you tell me? What would you want to know of me? Would you be happy that I live…here? Would you want to spend time with me, if you knew me?

You’ve seen me in the crowd. I know you have. You waved, once, from afar. But you wouldn’t know me to see me now. I’ve changed a little. I’ve become… I’ve become more calm. Less likely to rip up my life and chase a dream.

Just a dream, some might say. To know you would be like remembering a long, distant past full of promises that turned to dust and ashes.

So I’ll ask you, just this once. Do you wish to see me? Please answer yes or no in the little square inside the box on the page marked ‘My Apparition’.

The Confession

“There’s something I have to get off my chest.”

“What now?” She’d heard all his bullshit before – at least she assumed it was bullshit. Nothing he said when he was feeling guilty ever made sense.

“I think you should sit down.”

“Are you at least going to take your coat off?” He was still wet, dripping on the floor.

“I have to go back out.”

“Okay then, hurry up. I don’t have time for this today.”

“I’ve been seeing another woman.”

“Oh, that old thing again?” She didn’t believe him this time any more than she had the last three times he had confessed this same sin against their marriage.

“I’m leaving with her now. She’s out in the car.”

She tapped her foot. “Can you pick up milk while you’re out?”

A single tear fell from his cheek. “You just don’t get it, do you?”

“Actually, I was at the store just yesterday and I forgot.”

He stared at her, agape. “Do you even care?”

“Of course I do! I can’t have coffee without milk!”

He turned and stepped back out into the pouring rain, checking for his wallet.

Uncle Muster’s Experiment – Part 2 of 2

Page 4

Teresa’s been bugging me to leave for a long time. ‘You’re nineteen,’ she would say, or, ‘You’re twenty,’ or, ‘You’re twenty one. Why don’t you just get away from here and go live your life?’

I can’t tell her it’s because Uncle Muster makes me happy. He’s the only person who will ever really care about me after all, at least since momma died. He tells me that all the time. But Teresa just gets angry. Especially that time she came here to the ring room and saw Uncle Muster and me together. He gets all nice around me and so gentle. I heard loud and clear what goes on between him and Teresa in the bedroom and it sounds nothing the same as the way he treats me. He says it’s because I remind him of my mother.

So I asked Teresa why she didn’t leave once. That was the first time she came at me with a knife. And then when she caught Uncle Muster standing in the ring with his pants down and me kneeling in front of him it was a machete that she’d just brought in from outside; the one Uncle Muster was using to cut down the lawn because the town had said if he didn’t they were going to fine him for having his grass too long in front of the warehouse he owned, here where the boxing ring is. The boxing ring had been Uncle Muster’s life when he was young. Not that he’s that old now, just that he had his leg cut off at the knee when he was thirty two by one of his drug buddies. They used an axe.

Page 1

About half hour ago Uncle Muster takes me out back for our regular alone time and when we come back in I can smell smoke. Teresa is in the middle of the ring burning almost everything I wrote and she says she didn’t even read it. I guess she’s had enough of being locked in here with me for so long, sleeping and eating all in the same room. I have my writing to do and when Uncle Muster comes he takes me for our private time but there‘s nothing for Teresa except cooking and cleaning and doing drugs. She watches him sit by me sometimes and I feel sorry for her until she passes out.

I started writing, like Uncle Muster said, about a month ago when we first got here and I made it all the way up to page forty-four, but now Teresa’s destroyed it. I think it‘s because she’s screaming so loud that Uncle Muster puts the axe outside.

Once she notices me she starts in on me just like always, except she’s never done it in front of Uncle Muster before now. I didn’t even tell Uncle Muster about any of the other times when Teresa went ape on me and she never left any marks because she knows he inspects me from time to time. But somehow he knows anyway. About a year ago when he found a bruise on my leg he decided to do the “Exposure Experiment”. He tied Teresa up to a chair and forced her to watch while he took all my clothes off and looked me over. That’s when she cut Uncle Muster in the wrist, right after he went to sleep that night. His hand was never the same.

Now she’s mad at me again and she calls me ‘Sugar’ with a real emphasis on the way Uncle Muster says it, just like always. She says I think I’m better than everyone else because I like to write and I never swear. She hates it when I say ‘frig’ instead of what she says when she’s angry.

‘Say f**k!’ she screams at me and grabs my hair and pulls and screams again right in my face, ‘SAY F**K!’ I won’t do it and I close my eyes and the tears start rolling down my face and into my ears because Teresa is holding my head back and screaming at me over and over, ‘SAY F**K!’

I can’t believe she’s going off on me right in front of Uncle Muster. He gets between us and I know it’s going to be awful. I don’t want to watch.

Page 2

He’s making me record it.

‘Encouragin’, he says. He’s watching me write with his chin on my shoulder and his breath tickles my ear, making me goose bumpy all over and tingly inside.

‘If you write swear words what we said in our alone time,’ he whispers, ‘even you don’ feel comfortable ‘bout writin‘ ‘em, it’s akay, because it’s a “Letter-Writing Experiment“.’ He pulls my hair off my neck and bites me there gently and tells me I’m a good girl. He tells me I should take my time and do the best job I can because he wants every detail on paper and then he wants Teresa to read it when she wakes from her drugged up stupor. He’ll stand over her, just like this, and make sure she does.

Page 3

For Teresa

Our first time was on my eighteenth birthday. I was a virgin and you were passed out on the couch with too many drugs in your system for you to wake up. Uncle Muster says that even if you had it wouldn’t have stopped him. He says he’s been waiting for me since he met momma.

He gave me my first taste of wine that night and he was all whispers and love. He let me explore his body slowly, uncovering him little bit by little bit. I remember the way he smelled like wanting but even so, he was patient with me. When I uncovered his hardness he told me it was for me, and that first he would make love to me but as I became accustomed to him more that I would ask him to fuck me with it. He said I reminded him of momma because I’m all soft and delicate, not rough and crass like

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NEWS BRIEFS

WOMAN FOUND MURDERED
A gruesome scene was uncovered by a local man at a warehouse on Sideroad 22 in the County. While police are releasing little information, they disclosed that the victim, a woman in her early twenties, was found possibly suffocated on several sheets of crumpled paper. An autopsy will be performed to determine the exact cause of death.

Under investigation is a woman, 43 years of age, who authorities say is the wife of the man who made the discovery. More information will be released after next of kin of the deceased are located.