The Proper Etiquette of Knights and Dragons

[A light-hearted and humorous take on the old knights tale…]

The dragon smelled as dragons do. Something similar to a blacksmith’s furnace I would imagine, then again I’ve smelled similar things coming from certain kitchens I’ve dined in. The food probably as foul as its breath.

It came to be that I was there for a reason so predictable that I bet it goes down in legend. I was there to rescue a princess caught up and taken captive by this beastly dragon. I should say it has been done so often now that they should not be allowed to roam free. Princess’s I mean, since they always seem to blunder into the worst of messes.

“Hold there I say! I’ve come to rescue that lass!” I had long come to the conclusions that these dragons were smarter then they appeared. Indeed capable of thought as great as a human’s. Not just these beasts that most assume.

Sure most had mocked my ideas and even claimed me half-mad at them but as the dragon turned, sitting on its overgrown haunches and eyeing me like a curious thing I still assumed I was right. It snorted as its response.

“Very well then, if you will not take to diplomacy then you shall taste my blade!” And doing as all knights must, I moved my hand to my hilt and with a great hoist I proceeded to unsheathe my blade… which to my slight embarrassment didn’t move from its sheath.

A lesson to those younger knights out there, this is why cleaning ones blade is very important. It seems the blood from my last kill, a hydra it was, had dried my sword straight to the metal of my sheath.

Now I admit I was looking rather perplexed as the dragon regarded me closer. I strained to pull my blade out once more and in becoming so intent at trying to remove the blasted thing I slipped in my saddle. With a loud thud, armor and all I happened upon being face to face with the belly of my steed.

Now being in a real pickle, I decided that I really did need to shape up, as the dragon’s large eyes gained an odd look in them. I figured it was hunger as it moved a bit closer. My steed is a strong war-horse, but not all too bright. When it saw the lumbering creature come closer it realized it needed to retreat and I was left standing alone with no sword while my horse watched from the road at least 6 yards away.

“You incompetent idiot!” caught me by surprise as I looked past the dragon to notice the tied princess seeming somewhat annoyed.

“I don’t see what your problem is, I’m doing all the work!” I corrected her quickly as my eyes turned to my current situation. I tried to recall my heroic training. Big dragon, no sword, no horse… it seemed a bit tricky. Gauntlets being the easiest to remove were the first things I thought of. Quickly I had removed my right one and brandished it like a weapon.

“A hah! Now again I ask you to hand over the princess and leave the area!” I shouted loudly, gaining back my knightly flare.

“It’s a Dragon! It can’t understand you!” Again came the criticism from the princess. I started to wish this one had been gagged as some I know had. Now gaining a slight understanding for why some of them were…

“If you will mi’lady I am not talking to you!” I shouted past the dragon, as it again grew closer. If I were not as noble as I am I might have added in a few other comments not suitable for this tale.

Now where was I. Oh yes, the beast and I were on equal ground. It with its massive teeth and claws and I with my gauntlet. I know it seems a bit uneven, but you must remember I am a highly trained knight.

It opened its loud jaws and let out a roar I haven’t heard in months. It left a slight ringing in my ears and a vibration through the metal of my armor. I realized that was only a warning roar before it would open its bellows and shoot out a stream of burning fire.

That was the moment I knew I had to act. Now it might have looked like I flung the gauntlet out of pure panic, but I assure you I had aimed. And the only reason I had ducked and shielded myself was to keep any fire from my face if it had happened to let out its fire first.

So with my well-aimed shot with the gauntlet it seemed the beast had swallowed it

whole. The piece of metal piercing its jugular enough so the fire burned his insides… or some other nonsense. I kill dragons not explain them.

Either way the beast hit the ground with a rather loud thud, enough to make my balance waver a moment. I stood over my foe with fierce pride as it let out a last gurgle of breath; that sent a wave of heat at me. I would have waited the standard five minutes to relish in the battle, but there came an annoying voice pulling my attention somewhere else.

“What are you doing?! Get over here an untie me!” Ah yes.

The princess.

Well it was the next thing on my list, so I promptly left my place and wandered to where she stood tied to a rather large bolder.

“Ah yes mi’lady I have come to save you! Now if you will just hold still.” As if she could do anything else at the moment. Still courtesy is courtesy.

I slipped around behind her and began untying the knots before something curious struck me. I don’t know why it had never occurred to me to ask any of the others I had rescued, but I felt the urge to ask it now.

“Just how does a dragon so big like that ever tie a princess with knots like these anyway? I mean these knots are so small and well tied you would think he couldn’t manage things like that with claws so large.” I would have thought more about this but her sudden outburst caused me to leave my train of thought.

“What the hell is your problem?! I have never seen a man so dimwitted in all my life!” and then she let out a scream almost as piercing as the dragons had been.

I looked down to notice I did have another gauntlet. I mean if she was about to spew fire out her mouth like her eyes were doing at that moment it might just come in handy. Either way I managed to free her from those pesky knots.

“There you go, free at last!” I moved in front of her as she rubbed the red marks across her wrists. I leaned forward a bit, expecting the usual kiss as all knights are suppose to receive after such a daring feat. It’s almost an unsaid agreement.

One that this princess broke as instead of a small kiss against my lips, I felt her fist collide there instead knocking me back a bit in surprise. Merely surprise of course as everyone knows girls hit much weaker then men. The whole fact my lip was bleeding was only coincidental.

“What on earth was that for?” My pride was genuinely hurt.

“You actually thought I was going to kiss you? You stupid knight! I… I should have your head for this! You just wait till my father hears of this!”

“Excuse me, but if it wasn’t for me you would be dragon food mi’lady! A kiss is standard fees for such heroics.” I brushed myself off and grunted. “If you didn’t want to be rescued you should have told me!”

For some reason this seemed to provoke her more as she suddenly made noises as if she were having a hard time breathing. Grunting and growling and carrying on in such an unladylike manner.

I shook my head, about to give up on the whole affair as I walked towards my steed, which had come closer from his hiding place at the main rode. Loyal bugger, if not a bit dull as I said but at least he hadn’t left me trapped with the beast. The princess I mean, not the dragon- though the smell from charred dragon carcass was just as fowl a fate.

I offered the disheveled maiden a ride into town and bent low to hoist her up behind me, but again only received an indignant look for my efforts. To think, I Sir Fredrick of the gallant knights being treated in such a manner. This woman was all but impossible! I had rescued her from a dragon, been denied payment, and now was being treated like a common scoundrel!

“Mi’lady…” I grit my teeth and tried to keep my noble composure. “Do you intend to sleep on the ground, in the rain tonight? Or would you please allow me to accompany you into town?” Maybe she suffered some sort of madness? A poor shame. Maybe her parents had paid the dragon to steal her away.

She seemed to finally listen to logic as she grabbed my hand and I had prepared to hoist her up… that was until she yanked hard and I found myself slipping from the saddle. I swore I needed to fix that blasted thing. The saddle had to be broken for me to fall from it so many times.

Before I had a chance to pick my heavy armored body from the floor, I felt her foot on my backside as she mounted my horse.

The nerve!

“What are you doing?” I turned to find her fairly well adjusted in my place, already rearing my horse back and away from me. Maybe she didn’t understand what with that hysteria and all that. “I know you’re confused, let me lead you back to town Mi’lady before you hurt yourself. I’m sure there’s some medication or that you can get to make you feel all better again.” I was only looking out for her after all.

“You’re the only confused one here! You blithering idiot!” She snorted.

That was even less lady-like of her.

“You call yourself a knight? You’re clumsy, rude, stupid and weak! Why you’re just lucky that dragon was just as stupid as you!” With that she turned my warhorse around and plotted off quickly towards town.

I was left abandoned. I tried calling for my horse, but he didn’t turn. I suspect her mad yelling must have deafened him. What a world this was becoming! Well, I was a royal knight. I suppose I could enjoy the brisk walk back to town. Though I couldn’t help wondering if any other knights had such trying ordeals as I, the great knight Fredrick had dealt with today.

Ah well. I suspect it’s all well and good.

After all, it was part of being a knight I suppose.


Drawing Down the Moon…

[ An atmospheric short piece about the somewhat turbulent relationship with a werewolf and the moon.. some slightly suggestive content – so you have been warned. ]

He breathed in and relaxed.
Once again he tried to settle his mind.

The smoke from the dragonsblood incense was spicy, thick, and trailed around him in playful curls in the flickering lights of the candles at his altar. It reflected off the crystals, dancing in the dark making the shadows parade around him like silent watchers.

And yet as familiar, calm, and serene the altar was before him – he still found himself unsettled and unable to take pleasure in the ritual. In fact, he felt like he couldn’t even feel comfortable in his own skin anymore.

He tried to push the frustration down. His hand jingled one of the cool metal meditation balls. Slowly he circled them in his palm listening to the chiming noise as each ball gently rubbed against the other. For a moment he thought he was finally unwinding until a small jolt and twitch from a nerve made the balls tumble out of his grip.

He cursed loudly, frustration bubbling to the surface and cracking the false look of contentment off of his face.

He used to find such comfort in these small things.

He used to think he could hear the universe whisper in his mind.

Maybe that was all a lie and the devastating truth remained that all he had believed and perhaps all he was himself was just a bitter lie as well.

It had now been four hours of trying desperately to meditate in his dark ritual chamber while the full moon had reached it’s peak somewhere far above him. Four hours spent in vain trying to get his body settled. His mind was fleeting with careless inane thoughts that he simply couldn’t let go of. He felt like a prisoner of his own flesh.

He got up with a groan, his bare chest reflecting in the shafts of light trailing in the window. It accented off the tattoos staining his skin. His fists clenched repeatedly as peered out the window into the silent streets below.

Somewhere in the distance he saw the occasional youth slip in and out of local all night taverns and clubs. He longed for those days. He wished nothing else then to be out in this type of twilight, dancing among the ruckus of the streets. To be running the streets wild and uncaring. He longed to be free again.

“Damnit, this used to be easy.” A deep grumble relented into a sigh. Long hair was pushed behind his shoulder again.

His bloodshot eyes seemed to ache so much more lately. He seemed so much weaker then he used to in his prime. He knew what it was. He was dying. His mortality was evident.

He had hoped this ritual would bring him some sort of inner peace or reconnection with aspects of his life before. But it did nothing but antagonize old wounds. He felt pathetic for even trying. His eyes grazed across the altar before he turned his eyes away. Growling low in his throat he cursed himself for not letting the past go. For not just leaving all of this tucked away in storage like he had been told to.

Pleading eyes rose to the silver orb of the moon tracing by a few wispy dark clouds.

He couldn’t bear to keep its gaze long. It hurt too much, so he looked down from the brilliant moon and the failure it represented and instead pressed a hand against the cool glass of the window pane. His arm rested against the oaken frame and he relaxed his weight against it.

He never realized just how hollow his chest would be; how desperate he would feel. No one told him that he couldn’t just leave it all behind completely. He still felt it and knew it. Longed to dive head first into it.

They lied, they never said he would feel this way. They never said that in removing the curse from his soul, it would feel like they simply ripped it out completely.

There was never any going back. Not completely. There was no ‘cure’ for that.


He turned suddenly, so quick that he felt dizzy. He faltered a moment while his head spun and his eyes adjusted.

“Whose there?” His voice was a growl, a snarl.

“Lawrence. You go by Moonshadow.” It was no longer a question but a statement. A voice so serpentine and sensual. Soft and feminine. It managed to ease his temper, but not his wariness. He felt his ears physically come to attention, as if trying to train in on her voice and it alone.

“That is me.”

There was enough silence in that pause that he could take a moment and think. His mind kept trailing to the many enemies a person could have in a large city and never know. How many locks had he installed on the main door to his apartment? Were they enough? Paranoia was one thing – but to someone like him it was an unfortunate necessity.

“I think you need to leave…” He replied with a voice like gravel as he scanned every shadow. A few years ago he would have been able to spot them, even in the darkness of his chambers. His eyes would have had the instinct to know where to look. Yet he was weaker now, vulnerable and much easier to kill.

Every flicker of light from the candles revealed nothing to him now. His eyes then went to the doorway. It had appeared shut still, but he knew better. She must have slipped in while he was distracted. He must have forgotten to flip the deadbolts. Maybe he was just too careless… maybe it was time for him to die.

“I did not break in.” She said firmly and with a calm cool tone that startled him.

“How did you…”

“…know what you were thinking?” Suddenly the lights from the candles seemed to flare up and her form was suddenly illuminated. She was beautiful, serene, dressed in white sheer material that did nothing to hide such amazing curves and form underneath. Instead it simply accented it with an opalescent shimmer. Hanging at either side of ethereal face was long silken hair of pure white which traced down nearly to her ankles.

There was something unsettling and familiar about her that he couldn’t place. Something which made him quiver inside. He knew her, even if he had never seen her before in his life he had known her. So deeply and intimately that his breath was taken away.

Catching his eyes; cradled in the center of her forehead was a brilliantly glimmering opal. Seemingly to be facetted in a hundred different ways to catch every glimmer of light in the room and reflect it back exactly in the most precious way.

Words escaped him. His knees felt weak. She was glorious.

“Moonshadow.” She whispered his name which made his chest quiver. “I have watched you tonight. I have seen your frustration grow as you have tried, over and over to feel the connections you used to. You did not realize that was part of the price did you? Did they fail to tell you that part?”

His grip faltered, he lowered to his knees as if every ounce of his strength had pulled from him. His eyes sought freedom from the brilliant light which she provided. He felt now ashamed and terrified.

If this mortality was going to kill him, he wished it would hurry up and do so. Anything then to face this guilt and shame. He imagined himself crumbling inward and swallowing himself up to avoid her questioning gaze.

Lawrence used to pride himself on never cowering to anyone. Pride in being strong and secure in his dominant position. There was a time he felt untouchable. But in the presence of her, he was powerless. A submissive to any aching desire she made.

His body shivered and he lowered his head even further – desperate to get some control on what was happening in this room. He stared instead at the utter perfection of her feet. He watched as they grew closer. Each delicate beautiful step.

He stumbled over his thoughts, trying to find something coherent to say. Trying to form some sort of explanation as to what he did. Why he thought he needed to throw this part of his life away. But he could find nothing. Nothing but fear, manipulation, and lies. How had he allowed himself to become this weak? This… pathetic.

“Look at me.” It was no request. His eyes snapped to hers as if he had no more control of his own sensibilities.

She lowered while watching him with the barest of smiles. She smelled of rain.

“You are Moonshadow. You are blessed. And cursed. It is what you are – and will always be. For a while, you hid it yes. You wished it all away… and this didn’t make you happy. You still crave, desire, and want. Only now they have stolen your power in order to break you. They did not cure you. They simply caged you.”

And she leaned in, she kissed his lips with such blinding passion that he thought he would go mad. And yet he found himself completely still and bound. As if his hands were tied behind his back and his knees were glued to the floor.

All he wanted was to press up and deepen the kiss, to take her, to hold her. To do anything but let her leave him. It was as if the kiss lingered just on the edges of his senses as her words still echoed in his mind. He struggled to free his arms and pull her down to him.

Passion was growing in him indeed. He had never felt so aroused and wanting. So punished with craving for her. His voice let out a pained whine as he fought against the invisible bindings. She stroked his cheek and his straining throat. Her kiss was like ambrosia, her touch like wild fire.

And then she torturously pulled away.

“You will always be connected with me. You will always love me, hate me, desire me and wish to destroy me at the same time. You have been free of me and still have not found peace, so you called to me. You can never have one without the other, for you have beckoned to the moon and I have heard you. You have called me down and I have come. You have knelt before me – and you are mine.”

He shuddered and growled while the invisible bindings seemed to release him. He tried to grasp her and pull her obsessively into his arms, but she was gone.

The shadows seemed clearer now while he glanced around the darkened room. There were no signs of her except for delicate footprints on the floor that glistened with midnight dew.
By all appearances he had never left his place from where he sat. In his hand he still clutched the meditation balls.

He let them tumble from his fingers to save him from the silence from the room. They chimed in mocking jingles on the floor.

Moonshadow. He was Moonshadow. Lawrence was a human name, a word he used in the world of man and not the wild magick of who he was. His heart pounded as if ready to tear from his chest. His eyes were wet. His hungers woken, ebbing at him. He felt free, and he had not felt like this since they had strapped him to the table and did the ‘procedure’ to remove the lycanthropy from his very soul.

Now he knew why they were so willing to help him. He understood why they were doing him such a favour. They were merely domesticating him.

This new procedure offered by the human occultists had promised results. It had promised him a normal life where he could blend in and be hidden. An answer for the monstrous curse that he carried as a burden.

Curse. It was no curse… it made him alive. It was who he was, who he always was. And she was his goddess. She was the moon.

Moonshadow shuddered in his cold sweat while he slowly urged his muscles to work again. He stumbled to the window. He gazed out and he saw her… full and bright glowing and beckoning him. Always out of his reach. His eyes closed and the image of her caressed him.

He wanted her. He always wanted her.

He shook, pulled his head back, and howled. All the connections and power of ritual flowed into his blood again. For the first time in many nights he felt the curse – and blessing a part of him again just as his skin started to turn. His muscles grew, and loosened while his joints and bones extended. His face contorted while his features grew and his teeth lengthened.

It was a pleasurable pain while his skin stretched around the morphing bones along his chest and ribs. He could hear them moving, adjusting, cracking into place.

As if welcoming in an old friend he howled even louder then before. One can try to escape who they are, but it’s only ever lying to themselves. Eventually, no matter where you hide or how much you lie to yourself – it will always come rushing back in.

He was hers and would always be hers. He was her priest, her slave, her lover. From somewhere far beyond sanity and senses, a hand stroked the side of his thick furred cheek and he felt at peace.


Poem: Kryptonite

I have a heart of kryptonite.
And it’s reacting to your pain-
Oh no.. Here we go again.
You the spider, and I the fly.
One of us has got to die –
Damn you, heart of Kryptonite.

Why can’t I just let you go?
It kills me; Although I remain.
Endlessly fighting to restrain –
the demons caught in the afterglow.
The secret scars we’re afraid to show.
Only me and my heart know.


I’d rip you out – if I knew how.
Disconect you and burn it down.
Who needs your endless beating..
Crack me open and leave it bleeding.
It’s just a stupid little heart.
Would we care if we’re apart?

Thump thump.
Thump thump.

Oh my Kryptonite, sweet kryptonite.
With a taste as sharp as poison-
Just when I’m about to give in,
You give me some redemption?
Is that your motivation?
I think I’m going crazy.

I have a heart of kryptonite,
And it’s driving me insane.
It’s the spider, and I’m the fly –
But it seems now that I refuse to die.
Another round of poison please –
While I wait here for my release.





Dreaming Avalon: Prologue & Link

[ “Dreaming Avalon” is now available for free on WattPad here.

It is based around a neat idea I had for a story inspired by the current environmental crisis we were dealing with back in 2010, and developed into a bit of a space saga. It builds at a bit of a slow pace and intertwines a bit of spiritual ideas in with the idea of a new world waiting.

I still very much like the idea of the Arcanis ship, the LSG, and the world of Avalon. I may eventually revisit the story and see if it develops into something more… until then enjoy this introduction! If it intrigues you definitely go check out the remainder of it on WattPad. ]

In the beginning…

The Arcanis was the cumulative work of 14 years to develop the most energy efficient and longest sustaining space travel since man first headed into the stars. It was a massive ship, bigger then any space going ship ever created. It took years to develop and was finally complete in November of 2018, filled with the most state of the art technology of the time. The most massive project since the giant hydrogen collider was created. It was to be the most advanced creation the modern world would ever achieve. The scientific community marvelled at its new wonder. Silently the world waited.

Inside was a wide array of scientific equipment, wires, specialized fuel cells – and the LSG. A living space garden, combined with an advanced sustained ecology lab. The computer systems alone were so advanced that they had to be guarded at all times, for fear of tampering or spies.

It seemed strange that this monstrous creation which caused such uproar was meant, not for handfuls of the worlds most intelligent scientists, but for 8 sleeping children barely old enough to fill out their jumpsuits. Children, who spent 5 of their 12 years in intensive training for this day. The launch of the Arcanis on its 8 year voyage into space to find L562.

This little planet somewhere past Pluto and Eris had been spotted for years. However it took years for the satellite Oryan to send the incredible resonance images back from its computer systems to the main computers on earth. Not only was L562 a mysterious beautifully similar planet to earth but it also seemed to support life. The vibrant colour photography of the alien world beamed back pictures so close to our own planet from space that at first even our own scientists thought it was a hoax. After all, a self sustaining planet so close to our own was almost thought unachievable. A brilliant beacon of hope in a dim lifeless world of space.

It was a beautiful atmospheric rock complete with ice, snow, mountain caps and remnants of lots of frozen oceans. Although it was obvious from the images that most of this planet was still frozen in massive amounts of ice; where there is water there is life.

The temptation of this inaccessible proof that our existence was not random had become the jewel of every scientist’s dreams. It became a feverish technological race to create Arcanis and to move everything into place for this fictitious dream to become our reality. Our future.

Years could have waited, come and gone, with this tantalizing information kept silent from the populace until the governments and scientific community was ready to share it. But now, it was becoming more then just a curious idea. Now it was becoming a necessity to discover other resources. In fact, less a necessity then pure survival of the human race.

The world’s water supply was slowly diminishing. After the giant oil spill of 2010, Earth’s oceans never fully recovered. It was the whales that first harrowed our end. When the first dead whales started to beach themselves on the shores we knew this had been more then just the political disaster as was reported. This was a global earth shattering problem that everyone had hoped would simply be ignored.

Finally all the human pollution of Earth caught up with the human race – and it was finally starting to mount a significant attack.

Eventually it affected rivers, creeks, and even streams. Our water was contaminated.

Although drinking sources could be cleaned the process of filtering took the quantity of our reserves lower and lower. People were dying. Not just on a minor scale but a massive threat that could eliminate the human populace just as the animals were.

Humans would become extinct if nothing happened. Following in the trends of the great whales were the sharks, the fish and the coral living reefs. Already the forests were dying, the rain was killing birds and mutating cattle. Meat was becoming toxic to eat. The ecosystem was broken and the food chain was now in chaos.

If this new world had usable clean ice as it seemed to indicate in abundance; this was the hope the world was looking for. A new world, a new clean surface to start again. And when the news reports finally broke open and explained about the Arcanis project – the world rejoiced, even when their information was slightly distorted. Because one never tells the entire story.

This wasn’t to bring back clean water. This wasn’t to somehow save the planet. This was to create a world accessible only to those deemed worthy and to leave the others behind. It was the first encampment to what would be the new world order on L562.

It was a mission of salvation for the greedy.

A lifeboat only meant to save the elite on a dying world.

Hailed as our last chance for life – this craft already shrouded in lies, betrayal, and last options took to the stars with it’s 8 children, the seeds of a new world, sleeping in stasis for the long journey.

The world held its collective breath. For a while everyone worldwide saw the brilliant images of the Arcanis, the sleek triangular ship, blasting off in triumph. However 8 years is a very long time for a journey to take, especially on a world that has its own problems.
Quietly the news reports and announcements about the journeys progress had been buried under the news reports of disasters and deaths happening all around them within the first year.

Dying cattle and the eliminations of farms followed in the second year. Soon only one solution remained – blood was still clean. And the massacres started. People were killing their own animals so their thirst could be quenched by something liquid. Murder was on the rise; and cannibalism was becoming far more common.

Soon blood born diseases were given the freedom they needed to survive and epidemics started strangling the small hold people had on a failing idea. The human body was not meant to survive without water. You could fool it, you could cheat it – but eventually biology would win.

Life was not salvageable. The world was in chaos. Nature was cleansing mankind from it’s soiled ground.

There were no news reports when the second ship, the sister to the Arcanis was released into the atmosphere. A desperate attempt by desperate people for a dream that the Arcanis offered. It was the ship carrying the stasis elite. Those with enough deep pockets to be sent out to find what new world the Arcanis was supposed to settle for them.
It would be the last attempt man would ever make.

6 ½ years into the 8 year voyage of the Arcanis the radios on earth finally went silent. One could only assume that it was then that the final silence triumphed the end of the earthbound human race. Their soiled legacy to be buried and corroded in the violent aftermath of their own destruction.


Short Story: Movie Night

[ A short vampire tale for all of you to enjoy! This was originally posted on my FictionPress account, but I’m slowly phasing that account out in favor of the awesomeness of WordPress and Wattpad! ]

She ran fast and hard as her chest heaved and her throat hurt. She was glancing over her shoulders frantically and stumbling deeper into the maze of alley corridors.

She could hear behind her noises weaving and turning here and there. There was someone – or something, chasing her at great speed in a manner almost mocking her with loud agile steps. With a rustle, a chuckle. She was being hunted.

Never a glance, never a flash. Instead only shadows and noise followed her deeper and deeper into the urban maze. She didn’t have to see them to know they were there, the signs were all around her. An echoing clunking noise of his feet, a slight laugh and deep breathing. The odd shadow on the wall or scurry of a rat ducking for cover.

If she had time to think she might have wished she had worn her running shoes, rather then the Birkenstock sandals which seemed to slap at her feet uselessly. At least perhaps with shoes she could use the traction to run even faster.

It seemed a foolish idea to begin with, seeing the movie in this part of town. Woven with back alleys and shops she didn’t know – darkened by the night and casting eerie shadows. And making the decision to walk home by herself.

She had seen the viewing which ended half past midnight. It was now just past one in the morning. Still dark enough to hide in these city streets. Dark enough for anything to happen.

A cat startled by her awkward run screeched at her causing her to let out a small shout of her own before she stopped and caught her breath facing three walls and no where out. All was silent for the moment.

It was a long few minutes as she breathed in and doubled over while letting her lungs catch her breath shakily. Her ears were perked, listening and waiting. But for a few moments she heard nothing. It would seem that with all the running, and all the commotion perhaps there was not anyone chasing her. Maybe it all had been in her head. An overactive imagination, nothing more.

It was a long few moments. A very long hesitation as she straightened herself up. The movie she had seen was the latest vampire movie. Some suave male heir who used this money and wealth to seduce woman during the day – only to hunt them down later in the middle of the night.

It featured bloody scenes as he beat them before having his way with them and finally feeding on their blood before they died. Her nerves were on edge. All the blood and gore, all the senseless violence, and all the dramatic bloodstained moments made every hair on her body tingle. Her nerves were raw, her knees weak.

She seemed to laugh a bit over the silliness of her fear. What did she really think he was somehow going to follow her out of the movie screen? Come for her too like he did the other women? Perhaps have his violent bloody way with her?

She eased her nerves, laughed again at herself and checked to make sure her jacket still held her wallet and keys. When her fingers passed by the key to her industrial loft she stroked it, jingling the keys absently as if trying to comfort herself. Her eyes scanned the shadows and she giggled more openly.

Just then a dark form of shadow slipped from the wall and revealed itself in the form of a man. She wasn’t sure how long he stood there waiting and watching her, biding his time and looking over every inch of her body. On his lips played a nasty grin.

He was dressed in studded black leather and spiked red tipped hair. Half gleaming in the light were silver skulls along the leather trim. He chuckled and laughed in a harsh heady way as he strolled from the shadows protection into the weak light of the dark alley.

His cheeks were flushed from the chase. In his hand something else silver glinted in the full moonlight from above them. It looked like a knife.

“Hello Doll, where are you off to?” As he approached and light crossed his face, even more details came into clear view. His eyes were colored yellow, his grin hinted at a flash of pointed teeth. Not just teeth, but Fangs.

She backed up towards the wall, stumbling a foot against the metal of a garbage bin. He followed her awkward steps deeper into the secluded trap. He was practically aching to get her now and she was making it so amazingly easy.

“Cat got your tongue? Don’t feel up for chatting? Well that’s okay. I know how we can have a lot more fun.” He rubbed his thick thumb against the handle of his switch blade. Looked her body over with a long husky growl.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Her voice was soft, careful. She moved a bit more towards the corner of the walls. He didn’t mind, it would only make her easier to pin. In fact she seemed to be sealing her own fate.

Already thoughts rushed his mind of exactly what he wanted to do to her. It made him lick his lips in anticipation. He made sure she could see his thick tongue drift over one of his fangs.

“No? Come on, you’re going to like it. I’m going to fulfill all your little fantasies. I know your type.” He stepped closer now boxing her in like the final move in a game of chess.

In truth, he was far more interested in his own fantasies then hers. His cheeks flushed more with the thrill, and he felt the blood rush with adrenaline in his veins. She caught now a whiff of something strong. Whiskey she thought.

Whiskey, violence, and lust.

“Oh? You know my type?” He reached out and rested a hand over her right shoulder. The smell was thicker now. It rolled off his breathing. She turned her head away, breathed in. Pressed herself back some against the wall.

It gave him a beautiful view of her chest as she stiffened and arched her back.

Again his eyes trailed over her, looking over the tight fitting ripped t-shirt. Featuring skulls, hearts and roses. Her own short leather jacket, with coffin charms. She was dressed for this flick, made up in glorious goth black against her pale skin. He loved the way these horror fans dressed. It made him tingle. These vampire freaks always made his juices flow.

This was why he adored this game, and why she was now center stage. The tight jeans and thick black painting on her eyes made her look so delicious, so into the movie – that she was completely irresistible. He couldn’t believe his luck when he had followed her outside the movie, and she made her fateful decision to walk alone. It was as if she was all wrapped up for him, ready and waiting. It was like she was asking for this.

He thought of the last one he enjoyed. How much he enjoyed her, over and over again. And she had not been nearly as pretty as the scared little one laid out in buffet in front of him. He felt like feasting indeed.

“Of course. You’re the type who dream of this. Who crave this.” He grinned wider, licked his fangs for her again, rolled his tongue along them and over his lips. “I bet you’ve seen this movie more then once. Dressed like this… you know you were asking for it. All your types like that…”

“Actually…” She breathed in carefully and sharply as he ran the edge of the blade against her thigh. It was sharp and cold, it left a small imprint on her jeans and took her breath away. One long moment, then she began to breath as he brought it up along her ribs.

She closed her eyes and shivered as he traced it up and over her left breast. Lightly, yet firm enough to mean business. He’d done this before. Then the trail passed her breasts and up her shoulder.

“…you’re wrong.” She breathed slowly, carefully. Her reactions screamed that she enjoyed every moment of it, even if she tried hard to deny the thought. Her body betrayed. He almost could guarantee she’d be wanting him before he could have some real fun.

They always resisted at first. Until they got into it of course, and then he was their god. This same game played out many times before. She would certainly be no different. Who makes up a police report saying a vampire raped them?

He trailed the flat of his blade along her cheek. Lowered his other hand to carefully run down her side. He couldn’t resist anymore, he had to touch her, to own her. To take her.

God she was pale. So beautifully pale. And she smelled intoxicating. Some sort of gothic perfume that he wished every girl would wear. His hand trailed lower over her hips and letting his wandering fingers push roughly at her thighs.

“Am I now, Doll?”

She nodded slowly and turned to watch him right in his golden colored eyes. Golden eyes which held the tell tale ring of contacts. Her eyes however were the most intense blue he had ever seen. A blue which seemed to be cold. Ice cold.

Cold enough he shivered.

“See… my type just hunts here.” And with that she pushed off the wall, slamming into him with such a force that his fake fangs clattered out of his mouth pulling one of his real teeth with it.

Something sharp and painful embed into his throat with such force he nearly choked on air. His mind screamed that somehow she must have wrestled the knife away and stabbed him. The pain was at such intensity that he found he couldn’t pull any air back into his lungs. He had the odd sensation of water pouring out of his throat like a riptide.

And then, it all became horrifyingly real. It wasn’t the knife that was embedding into his throat, it was her. Her fangs to be precise. Her fangs that were far more then his costume shop version of dental acrylic and adhesive. Her fangs that were now pulling blood from his ripped open throat.

She drank heavily of him first, taking her fill greedily before turning and slamming him back against the very wall he attempted to trap her into. It proved to be great leverage, and made his blood run quicker. Spiced with shock like a fine vintage wine.

He gurgled while tried to pull away, the air passing his ripped throat making bubbles instead of screams. Already she was tearing her fangs through his veins, to his jugular. Opening him up and gulping at the excess of blood pouring out of him like a river. This was no romantic event, no Hollywood ecstasy. This was hunger at its most primal. She could taste bits of flesh and vein slip down her throat with the gulping of his blood, she didn’t care. After all, you don’t sympathize with your food.

She grinded her body up against him, taking him in such a way that made his head rush. The gurgling blood soaked mess and the whines and attempts to beg ruined any composure he could have had. It was sensory overload. He was completely, and utterly useless. A slave to her hungers.

There was only so much blood in a human body, so she paused finally and pulled away breathing in the cool air. A sensuous shiver racked her body as she calmed listening to the rush.

Her eyes finally caught his again. Already he was glazing over, slipping away. His neck was slit and mauled in such a way that even the best surgeon would have a hard time keeping their lunch down. There was no help for him, and certainly no second chance.

“What’s wrong doll?” she chuckled sarcastically, voice lusty as she could hear his heart beat out its last struggling tones. She rolled her tongue across her lips and chin as she savored his thick artery blood like caviar. “Cat’s got your tongue?”

Eyes forever wide and staring simply watched her as his body leaned against the wall. His warm and wet blood didn’t take long to chill, already it drew away and made his body look powdered white. She didn’t need to touch it to know that already it was starting to assimilate the coolness of the brick wall he was slouched against. They seemed to die so quickly, over the smallest of things.

“These vampire freaks…” she chuckled to herself. “Wouldn’t know the real thing if it snuck up and bit them.”

She grinned and lowered down beside his still body. She had far more time to examine him closer now. Her body was humming with contentment and she could no longer hide the wide grin from her face.

She would never get enough of this game. It made her feel alive again, and it was so much easier to hunt them when they believed it was all their idea.

She reached out and pulled the silver chain from around his neck and studied it carefully.

An ankh. It would go well with her next costume.
After all, she always enjoyed dressing up for Movie night.



NEW LIFE: Full Story

Hello all!

Just a heads up, I know I left off at Chapter Twenty-Six – but instead of posting the rest of the chapters here I have made the entire thing available on Wattpad. You can easily finish up the story there and read it in your own time. Just click the new fancy cover image I created for it and you’ll be taken to the story location!

Again, the reason why I am using Wattpad as well as WordPress is only to keep things tidy and easy to find later. I think it will be far easier to streamline things in the future if I have the ability to keep my long fiction in one archive that won’t be lost in multiple blog posts later on.

That being said – I still love this format on WordPress, and I will still be releasing short fiction and chapters here as well. Maybe even a few more personal notes and poetry as well.

Best wishes and happy reading!


Personal Journal: Where are we? 2017

Warning: This is a personal rant about uncomfortable subjects. It is merely my thoughts and opinions – but it is also bitterly honest.

I’ve been trying to put my thoughts into words about the latest chaos going on in the world; but it’s been excessively difficult. I watch the news daily and find myself more and more disturbed about the current events. I watch things with a sick twisted feeling in my gut. People say “it’s like watching a car crash” when they see a disaster that both interests, disgusts, and terrifies them. That is what it feels like. A car crash.

We are in the year 2017.

Does everyone remember that? 2017.

Why does it feel like instead of moving forward – we are slipping back? I don’t mean a lack of progress, no I mean back-peddling into the most dangerous and hateful parts of our human history.

There is a real possibility of a nuclear war, there is a war against science as people are starting to deny climate change, evolution, and even the fact that our world is a globe. All the obstacles we had against Trans and LGBT+ people seem to be coming back up with a vengeance. We will put Trans people on Television to entertain us, but deny them the right to fight for the very country they love.

My gods people, the bloody KKK was holding a march with flaming torches and while wearing hoods and waving full on Nazi flags! Think about that.

We had a mob of hate filled people with flaming torches taking to the street. This is not a bloody archaic horror movie – they weren’t chasing down a fictitious monster. (Some would argue they -were- the monsters, but I digress…)

And this wasn’t a distant thing. It didn’t happen in some strange little country where we can ignore and slip under the rug – but out in the open in the United States of America…

And then to add another huge insult to the gaping injury of this reality – but one of them decided to take out some counter-protesters by running into them with their vehicle in an act of domestic terrorism. (Although I admit, not all the details are being announced yet and there was major violence on both sides – it was still a violent hateful act.)

Now some will argue that these problems have always been swelling under the surface for a long time. We’ve always had racism, sexism, and fanatical religious nuts. Nothing new there I am afraid.

That is very much true – but these used to be deplorable and disdainful things!

Didn’t they?

When did we become a culture where this stuff is so frequent and.. defendable? Sure, there is free speech, I get that! Why do you think the West Boro Church is allowed to sputter their hateful speech at the most inappropriate places possible… but there is a major difference between FREE SPEECH and HATE CRIMES, isn’t there? You are allowed to have an opinion, but you are -not- allowed to take that opinion and shove it so far down peoples throats that they have to choke on it…

I could also point my finger and blame the great Orange One for all this madness – the Trump Era which has seen most of these problems blow up in our faces – but he is only a symptom of the greater problem.

After all, Russia issue or not… he was VOTED in. And he is supported by a hell of a lot of people still. He isn’t the problem (Or, I should say; He isn’t the ONLY problem.) he’s just shining a giant orange spotlight onto it – one we can no longer deny.

I’m in Canada. Something I am more and more proud of. And I could just hold the opinion that “oh well, that’s just the States – thank gods I don’t live there!” but the fact is, it isn’t just the States that is effected by all this. I’d be blind and narrow minded to think that.

I have friends who are American. Great friends who are fierce and wise. Friends who aren’t full of hate and fear and anger. Friends who are very much in danger of all this growing chaos.

Canada itself is also neighbors with America.

What happens to them -DOES- effect us.

I can see this in my local news as more shootings, racism, and hate crimes flair up in our major cities. Not as much as the States, that’s true. We aren’t hit nearly as hard here as our neighbors below – but don’t kid yourself. We aren’t that far away. We can’t afford to be blind to it.

No – it shows a greater problem in the world.
One that terrifies me.

When did Hate and Fear become okay? When did the world lose it’s mind and forget that we have only one planet we are living on. We are only one species that inhabits this place filled with a massive amount of other species that depend on us not being psychopathic imbeciles?

We are better then this! I know we are. I know we -can- be.

Can’t we?

I choose to be kind today. I choose to see the good things as well as the bad. I choose to think that one person showing kindness can effect the world more then one person spouting hate. I am going to hope there are enough heroes in the world to offset the great wall of madness that seems to be blocking off peoples common sense.

All throughout history we have had dark times. This is nothing new.

We can choose to accept and ignore it – or admit there is something wrong in the world and do what little things we can to try and offset it.

It may not feel like much. But it is a choice we can make. Maybe if enough of us see the wrongs in the world and choose to be better then it – maybe we can still turn things around. Before it becomes too normal and too comfortable to just live with it.

Obviously people have been far too comfortable and too blind to the undercurrents of hate and fear for far too long…