Tilly Moncrief – carnage revisited.

South Perth and the Windsor Hotel flash by on Tilly’s right, she hated any hot dish served cold.   Gearing down, the surrounding 3 am darkness enveloped her like a black velvet glove as she rode quietly up Mill Point road. Letting the bike get near to the top of the hill, she turned it…

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Sung by the man with the feathered feet.

Fear encapsulated him, stone cold and sweat inducing. He felt it in his gut, his heart hammered in his chest, his eyesight blurred, he felt nauseous, his breathing was too fast, and he could control none of it. He knew running was futile, hiding even more so, they would take years to complete the hunt…

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Tilly Moncrief – carnage continued.

It is 1922, and it is the tale of Tilly Moncrief. A rogue, swindler, and well styled crim without borders. Tilly has stolen from Cat Lucifer, a wealthy and notorious brothel owner and Madame. Cat puts word out on the streets offering £2,000 for Tilly’s head alone, or £3,000 for her head and her property…

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therebemonstershere.com – the links

Hey there groovy movers. Recently I was asked what therebemonstershere.com methods of contact and social media links were. So, in response to that, here ’tis! /www.facebook.com/monstershere email: editor@therebemonstershere.com text only: +61 (0) 418 393 742 And there we go. Try and click the link beneath picture, music should follow. However, with the ‘block’ format WP…

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The Lore of The Emotionally Absent Killer.

As far as he was concerned, temper and rage, were nothing more than weakness through emotion. It was the ability to think, not feel, that gave cause to the success of man. It is not what people feel that truly matters in the long run, it is how they think and act that defines them….

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No greater prison than the ocean blue.

  Unaware he had fallen asleep, he hit the deck with a solid ‘thud’. Thrown from his rack by extreme movement of the ship, he awoke with a shock, immediately to have another man land on him, having been thrown from the rack above his own.   Crawling around in the dark mess space, he…

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Styx, and stones.

  Sleep, this time around proved somewhat more elusive. Knowing full well that he desperately needed it, he shut his eyes, and did his utmost to clear his mind of the nightmare he so recently endured.   Morpheus finally stepped in. This time his dreams filled with the memory of looking up at a night…

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Warm, dry, and over it.

  The seas had become the image of a nightmare. A swell of between six and eight metres, working with a easterly gale was doing its best to batter the ship. Now 2200, and with two hours of waiting on the mess couch, being thrown about by the ships movement was just about all he…

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“Standfast!”

  Dipping, rolling, and listing; the ship plowed through the night time waves. The swell had picked up to four metres, and the barometre dropped quicker than the whores draws on half price night. Above, the heavy clouded night sky loomed black and menacing, so much so that the horizon was indefinable; ocean and sky…

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Still cold, still wet, too scared for homesick.

  Having showered and eaten, the PO returned to the XO’s cabin. Still relishing the sensation of warmth from the shower, and the feel of clean dry clothing against his skin, he knocked firmly against the door frame of the cabin. On hearing “Enter”, he pulled the blue curtain serving as cabin door aside, and…

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Cold, wet, and homesick.

  At nearly midday, a big sky, light blue and cloudless, sat above a three metre swell, and the grey ship that sailed upon it. So far from shore now, seabirds had stopped following them. The only winged beasts to be encountered were great swarms of flying fish, skipping and skimming across the surface. A…

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Lead pill behind the left ear.

  Lying behind these lack lustre, whimsical if it so pleases you, eyes of mine; the portal to this my very soul; a hellish black beast stirs. It is the beast of time. More accurately, the beast of time squandered. A beast for the soul left to rot in the remnants of self. My self….

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