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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…

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…

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…

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….

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…

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…

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…

“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…

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…

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…

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….

Sobriety, the curse of the damned.

Cold sweat and steady rain dripped from every part of her being; terror gnawed at her gut, and her nausea was overpowering. Lithe legged she ran, not ‘to’, but rather it was the ‘from’ that had her sprinting in sans bra and undies in a pair of old jeans, an older tee shirt and…

Miss you like sleep.

Beyond death, there is a place of extreme life, one so brilliant and unimaginable, that no person could begin to dream of. A world of sentient beings both real and myth released; beasts lurking between imagination and seedy hidden reality; murder, mayhem, carnage and light of unfathomable mystery. The next evolutionary step, shedding the trainer…

What is normal for the spider, is chaos for the fly.

My name is Bast, and finally I am dead. My corpse is at my feet, and what I see on the ground before me appears to be that of a 22 year old woman; a woman 5 feet 2 inches in the old money, and is lying like Jesus on the cross, flat on its…

The devil laughed nervously

In the morning we made our farewells to the village and turned east. The sleeting rain was blowing hard from the north, drenching man and beast to the bone. The overcast skies teasing the sun above, taunting it with the slightest of gaps between the blue black anvils, allowing passage to meagre slivers of light, but only after a…

Kill local

He stepped into the night throwing the boatman’s cloak around himself, pulling the oversized collar up around his ears, then ramming the tricorn down hard atop his head. The matched pair of flinted pistols were thrust between belt and breech behind him. His sabre gently rattled in its scabbard, as did the bayonet aft of it. The first musket…

Peace, the ultimate urban myth.

Initially the thought ran along the lines of “there is no way I am bright enough, and know enough national and local history to be able to make it work”. From there it travelled along the neural pathways that go from thought and associated leanings, to the same vocalised. In this case the verbalisation…

Eye Gouging Splendour

A highlighted newspaper article found by Liv next to the toilet read – “The Baron de Batz, apparently found the next handful of years to follow to be somewhat dangerous for him, and moreso for those around him. March and April of 1794 saw the execution of colleagues and friends, and by June 20…

Glasgow kissed soul.

Nothing could have prepared him for it. “John, what is this place, this time, this now called?” anger bubbled through Mini like nitrogen into a divers elbow. “John, this place you purport to have spent the last 581 years? This place you have you have forgotten, quite by accident I am sure, of…

Braided soul

The hunt had been magnificent. His quarry had been physically the fittest of his encounters at least these last two hundred years. Said quarry also was the smartest, resourceful, cunning, and most importantly, cowardly he had engage in such a while. There is no greater chase, nor greater hunting prey, than one in…