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30 September 2011 @ 04:41 pm
Granted, some people like to buy old, retired hearses for personal use. Why not? They're usually converted from cars like Cadillacs and have huge amounts of cargo space and a rolling deck to load and unload .... stuff.

However, the yellow, diamond-shaped "Baby on Board" sign in the back window still seems like a sick joke.
 
 
Scene:: weirdweird
Soundtrack:: For Your Love-The Yardbirds-KOME Classics 2
 
 
15 June 2008 @ 11:38 pm
The smell was terrible. And the doctor was quite cheerful about that.

"It means things are progressing naturally... Normally... And that we're ready to move on to the next stage." he said, in his most soothing and calming voice.

Amanda looked both skeptical and worried, the dutiful daughter at her injured father's side.

"It looks... My God." she whispered, apparently unable to speak further.

"Yes..." The doctor re-assured her, and her father. "The necrotic tissue is quite a shocking thing to behold, but it does mean that the injury is progressed past the initial shock of the wound. Our little helpers will have all this cleaned up in no time."

Amanda and her father locked eyes. Neither was going to waver. Both had a part to play, and both were dedicated to playing it. The uneasy truce they'd reached held firm, him not mentioning that she was the source of the massive and infected wound in his chest, and her not mentioning the years of depraved abuse that had pushed her to it.

Still, all the while, both knew that the other was plotting revenge, planning his or her next move. Amanda's father had assured her, again and again, that he would have the last word... That he'd not yield to the authorities the pleasure of seeing her punished for what she'd done... And even though he knew she was plotting as well - that she had truly become his daughter in temperament and capability, he felt sure she wasn't operating at his level yet.

"And you're sure this is the best way to proceed?" he asked the doctor.

"Yes." he replied. "Because of the nature of the wound, and the time it had to progress and fester before you could get to help, at this point we're left with either cutting away huge sections of healthy tissue to remove the irregular sections of dead flesh, or we let the medical grade maggots do the work for us, only removing the dead tissue."

"Well, then... Let's do it." Amanda's father said, with resolve.

"All right." the doctor continued. "I'll place them, and cover the area. I'll come back in a few days to see how things are progressing, but it's important you don't disturb them until then."

Amanda handed the doctor the envelope marked "Medical Grade Maggots" from which she'd removed the tiny white Lucilia sericata larvae, replacing them with the equally tiny, almost identical Cochliomyia hominivorax larvae.

She put on her best brave smile and said "It's ok, father... Everything will be just fine."
 
 
Scene:: hungryhungry
 
 
The sunlight was brilliant. A warm summer's day with a crisp breeze that reminded one of a voyage at sea.

With Eliza tucked into her crib upstairs, everything was right in the world. Juniper strolled out of her airy designer house and crossed the pool deck out onto the grass and into her modest garden.

Her husband had 'Made Partner' not only 7 months ago and in that time it seemed as though their lifestyle had done a complete 180 from their modest little loft in London to a 6 bedroom Manor House just outside of DevonShire. William had mentioned getting out of the city now that things had changed... to continue working on that large family he always wanted.

As she knelt down between the cucumber rows, tapping her trowel free of mud on a large rock sitting beside her seeds, she marveled at how she herself had also completed quite a dramatic cycle. After the birth of Eliza, postpartum depression had managed to snag her for a few long weeks and everyone told her it was normal of course -being pregnant in a dreary, loud, hectic city... nobody having time to check up on her... Eliza being colicky... but after a time her condition worsened rather than improved.

She remembered hearing weeping in her bathroom.
Seeing a woman hanging in her clothes in her closet one night.
Walking down her stairs wearing a ball gown with a roll of duct tape in her hand, heading for her baby's crib.

When Will came home that night she told him to take Eliza away and get her help. After the treatments she quickly recovered.

Smiling to herself, feeling more alive than ever, she plunged her trowel into the loose soil vigorously, churning it gently.

As Juniper's mother dashed up the driveway and through her open front door she called out "Surprise, dear... just thought I'd swing by!"

Juniper's mum took the stairs two at a time up to see her granddaughter and smiled as she saw her plush teddy propped in the corner of the crib. She strode over, reached in and pulled back the blanket gently only to reveal a heaping pile of muddy soil.

She let out a choked scream as if someone had bludgeoned her in the throat.

Meanwhile, in the garden, Juniper stared in confusion at the tiny bloody hand, half severed by her trowel, sticking straight up out of her freshly dug hole.

 
 
Current Location: The Cave.
Scene:: amusedamused
Soundtrack:: A Crow And A Distant Jet.
 
 
14 June 2008 @ 11:19 pm
They had been driving for over 5 hours in the sweltering heat when they finally reached SeaWash Rock.

Elinor peeled her back from the hot brown leather seat and stripped off her clothes while running for the cliff, screaming something excitedly that was lost in the humidity. Julie lingered in the car, slathering on sunscreen unhurriedly.

'"Hot as hell!" Elinor shouted as she hopped across the gravel, attempting to avoid burning the skin off her feet.

As she reached the grass she flailed her arms wildly, trying to slow down before reaching the drop off. As she stumbled to a stop she peered over the precipice, staring hundreds of feet down into the black lake below. She began to calculate exactly where she would try to land her swan dive as the thick, dead air coated her shoulders and face. Tiny droplets of sweat made streams down her cheeks and her short red hair gathered in jagged points at the nape of her neck.

Her breath was sour from chewing her gum for too long and she distractedly flicked her slick fingertips against her thumb. Beads of moisture sprayed off of them in a fan, careening slowly into the air.

As she took note of the various depths of the pool below {memorizing the lighter and darker areas} her leg muscles tensed. She slowly crouched and sucked in her breath sharply, preparing to dive.

In the instant before she leapt she felt an odd, cool rush of air behind her and smiled as she twisted around, expecting to see Julie running towards her with arms outstretched -ready to shove her into oblivion.

Instead, she saw her 1967 sky blue Chevy Camaro rocketing into her ribcage, knocking her breath out and thrusting her into empty air.

The audible snap of her bones echoed throughout the canyon.

Before she disappeared over the edge she caught the distant image of Julie gulping down a Coke, strolling away into the dust cloud.



 
 
Current Location: The Cave
Scene:: deviousdevious
Soundtrack:: Tasmanian Symphony Orchestra
 
 
Everything was so perfectly planned... She wasn't the least bit afraid when she began to feel the cold.

The timing had to be exact, and she'd been more than careful. She'd made the call from disposable phones, several times and from several locations around her neighborhood.

She'd waited until her parents were away from home, but not away from town.

She'd pinched the blade at precisely the depth she had chosen for the cuts, made the incisions down the length of her wrists, and begun the slow count-down to her next step.

All that remained was to count the carefully measured seconds until her exquisitely planed and executed "cry for help" would deliver her to the emergency room, and, by extension, her parent's guilt into her waiting hands.

Nothing would ever be denied her again.

"Thirteen... Fourteen... Fifteen..."

She dialed, pressed 'send', and sputtered in a well-rehearsed sotto voce "...help... me... I've... done... something..." and dropped the phone.

But, now she'd gone well past her secondary count of one-sixty-five. She was becoming quite a bit more cold than she'd expected, and she was getting sleepy. The room was getting darker, and her ears were roaring, like she was under water at the beach...

With a great final effort, she felt around the floor, collected the phone, and held it close to her dimming eyes...



Last call: 991
 
 
 
13 June 2008 @ 01:36 am
So warm...

Meaty. Pulpy. Slick, waxy fat, and almost thready, textured muscle...

The silky wetness of the blood, sticking to her fingers and coating her hands...

And so very, very warm.

It was the warmth that stayed with her, that wouldn't leave her memory, even long after it had left the double handful of treasure that held her endlessly fascinated, fingers probing great veins and arteries, fingertips exploring every tiny nuance of texture, it's complex beauty and simple functionality holding her bottomless interest even as she held it in her hands.

She was almost completely unaware of the room around her by then... The knife at her side, his bloodless, open-chested body, the green-tinted glass of the emptied bottle, or the crisp, acrid scent of wormwood that lingered in the air, mingled with the coppery scent of blood...

Even her own voice seemed distant, a windy whisper from another place as she sat, entranced by her prize, her lips barely moving, her breath barely escaping her... Repeating the joking comment he'd made that had so completely captured her imagination as the green fairies danced in her mind, until she'd had no choice but to bring it to life...

"...Absinthe makes the heart grow fondled..."
 
 
Current Location: in a quiet country chalet
Soundtrack:: the Brandenburg Concertos
 
 
"Moose" Johanssen, alone and out of gas in the middle of the Arizona desert, stood by the side of the road examining the fuel line of his motorcycle. He was puzzled as he had spent the entire previous weekend rebuilding the engine and was certain that he had put everything back together properly.

He was even more puzzled when he looked back down the road from the direction he came and saw the fast-moving semi move onto the shoulder and line up at him. The semi never slowed, and in that last moment before impact, Moose barely had time to complete his last thought.

"Man, I wish I knew she was a truck driver when I grabbed her ass at that last diner."
 
 
Scene:: deviousdevious
 
 
16 March 2007 @ 09:51 pm
"I'm afraid you'll never walk again..." the doctor told Mark.

Mark was devastated at first. For weeks and weeks, he did almost nothing but sleep. Then, eventually, and so, so slowly, he began to form his resolve.

He worked, day and night... Every spare moment, he performed endless series of exercises that were designed to increase neural response, strengthen bone, tone muscle...

Months and months blended into years... And still he worked.

A lifetime later, at least, he found himself standing on the precipice of success or failure... He gripped the steel rails and hoisted himself up, and slowly, cautiously, and with great courage, he released the rails... With ultimate care, he lifted one foot from the floor to take his first step.

His concentration was absolute. His resolve, admirable.

There's no way he could have seen the doctor approaching with the sledgehammer...
 
 
Scene:: a clinic on the dark side
 
 
Any minute now. Steve had finally had enough of Mike's endless, assenine puns. Stupid shit every day: "hey, could you pass me a puncil?" "sorry if that's not punny" "I just enjoy the pun-ishment." Coming to work at the nuclear power research facility had become so irritating that Steve had taken to grinding his teeth, he'd even been bitched at by his dentist for how much he'd ground them down. Time for revenge. Now, some people might think sabataugeing a nuclear reactor, causing quickly fatal doses of radiation to be released through the entire complex when Mike logged in at his workstation in the morning might be going a bit far, but technically, that wasn't the revenge. No, that was just the setup - the real revenege would be the log in screen, the last thing Mike would see before he turned in to one giant, roasted tumor. Ahh, there he was! Logging in now... it was so easy to hack in to his account - login: Mike password: punsword. The putz. And it's loading, the words that will be burned, quite literally, in to his retina as he's fried...

Gone Fission
 
 
05 January 2006 @ 09:00 pm
Admittedly it's not saying much but Bobby's greatest talent was the ability to stop electric fans with his tongue. As he grew older he would demonstrate his talent on bigger and bigger fans.

But then, one day, soon after getting a job at the airport loading and unloading baggage, one of his coworkers said to him, "Have you ever noticed how those jet engines look like big fans?"
 
 
Scene:: deviousdevious