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Albelack Road: Part 4



A drop of water hit her face and when she wiped it with the back of her hand, it was not rain water but red. Pure dark and dangerously familiar looking. It was blood. She wiped it off on her shirt but it was stained against the porcelain white of her skin. She watched in horror as the black blood spread, going up her arms, her chest, her neck. She tasted the copper mixture on her tongue and she gagged but she trudged forward.  “His blood is good, Jade.” She dared not look back. She knew if she did, she would go insane. Ahead through the fog she could see red. The red hotel matches’ standing out inside the fog and instead of peddles from the road, they lay upon piles of bones. One, two, four more packets of Newton Hotel matches lined every few steps she took. They were so inexplicably bright within the dense fog and she knelt down beside the closest one, atop a pile of astonished skulls and rotting molars. She did not touch it, but remained beside it staring at the rows ahead of her. In the distance, she heard the thundering crash once more, the beast roaming through the forest. It cried again, loud, teeth chattering loud and the trees quaked around her as it stomped. Jade felt the earth move under her as a thick black shadow passed by closer this time than the last and the trees to her left swayed violently back and forth. It wasn’t until it was gone that she realized she was holding one of the crumpled packs of matches in her fist. She opened it with shaky fingers and stroked the head against the box. The flames sputtered, refused to ignite at first. And suddenly a bright flame burst to life and she stared at it wonderingly, mesmerizingly.

“A beautiful flower within a dark grove,” she said to no one in particular. She realized everything was quiet. No, not just quiet. She was deaf. Nothing made a sound, not even the hiss from the match or the sway of the trees.

“That’s mine,” said the loud voice cutting through her deafness but instead of grabbing the match from her hand, he stabbed her in the stomach. The shock came first, the blade feeling like fire as it sliced through her flesh and organs. He twisted it in her stomach and she grabbed his coat, trying to pry him off of her. She gasped loudly and suddenly, she was no longer in the forest. Jade Harper was back inside the hotel room. Jared was grinning at her from above, his eyes filled with an insanity that would not be filled until she was dead, the knife he was holding deep within her stomach. She tried to speak but only a bubble of blood boiled to her lips and she was drowned out by some hysterical laugh. Jade’s eyes shifted and she saw Marie standing over Jared’s shoulder in only her bra and panties, her eyes gleaming and she was laughing. Suddenly everything became clear to Jade as she lay on the carpeted floor of room 506 in the Newton Hotel dying. She was the fiancée and Marie was the mistress. The ring, Jade’s engagement ring blazed gold and fire on the hand of Marie the seductress, Marie the succubus. Jared laughed as he plunged the knife down into her stomach a second time but she barely felt it this time. Everything was dreamy, ghostlike as the room wisped, and danced away. The light from the ring shone like a beacon in the night, trapping Jade to her mind numbing purgatory, the fog filled world of their lover’s betrayal. In the window, a set of deepened yellow eyes gazed at her and the roar of a monster shattered the window. Jade screamed in her final moments of death.


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Abelack Road: Part 3



She rubbed her shoulders with both hands and watched, waiting for him to return with a sickle to slice her up but nothing more moved within the fog and she reluctantly turned her back on him and the hotel. Instead of thinking of the man in the creepy trench coat and oddly bright pack of hotel matches, she focused on thinking back to the day when she and Jared were leaving for this little vacation. By that time, Jade had already drained most of his money from his bank account and she had already planned to kill him. But she pretended as usual to be happy with their arrangement. He would tell his girlfriend he was going on a business trip, that he would be home within the week. Jared was always a weak liar though. Marie saw through his faux façade and made a surprise trip up to the hotel. It was unfortunate Marie had to be killed too. If she had only believed the lie, believed that her man was being sincere and honest none of this would have happened. If there was an alternate reality, she would only have to deal with the heartbreak of her murdered fiancé. But then I wouldn’t be wearing this gorgeous rock, Jade smiled evilly as she twisted it around her finger.

Her heels crunched underfoot the sound reminding her of fragile bones, muffled by the fog and she wondered how long now until the loud roaring highway could be heard, desperate for a sign humanity lie ahead. There was a thick snap to her right, a deep fearfully penetrating crack that sent a shiver up her spine. She stopped, listening intently upon the litter of bones beneath her feet. Dare she look over, towards the sound that was maddeningly close, too close for comfort? She had a sudden irrational thought that it was the man in the trench coat, somehow following her from within the sanctuary of the forest, cloaked in a fine dusting of misty fog and sneaky shadows. Her heart fluttered nervously as she waited and yet again, a second, closer snap sounded. But it was not beside her as she had worried. The noises were coming from up the road. An odd noise, gurgled and deep filled the air and it was so loud she could feel the sound vibrate within her chest. Goose bumps rippled up her arms in a thick layer and she whimpered reverting back to a little babe of four terrified of the thing that hid within her closet as she fitfully slept. It was loud, and nothing she had ever heard before. A strange noise, not quite human but not wholly animal either. She thought maybe a bear at first, her rational brain trying to pick the memory of the discovery channel from the very roots of her cortex but the cry was so foreign, so inexpiably evil that she ruled it out nearly instantly. Not a bear. Not a human. But not completely animal. Her jumbled thoughts made no sense. A loud crash resounded close by followed by another and the trees in front of her swayed so strongly they bowed downward nearly touching the earth. Her feet couldn’t move, paralyzed to the spot with fear as more trees cracked and groaned under whatever was weighing them down. The cry filled the air again, further away and she made a slow, timid move backwards. Her heart wouldn’t stop thumping, the pain so intense she thought she was having a heart attack. Right in the middle of nowhere, with a monster mere feet from the spot she stood she was about to have a heart attack. But as quiet filled the night once more, her breath leveled out in the chilled frosty air and she was able to finally move again.

She jogged. Her legs moved one in front of the other as she carried herself as fast as heeled boots and unpaved rocky road would allow. Ahead, broken branches littered the roadway, chunks of bark as large as her forearm as a heavy, ancient beast of a tree loosely hung onto another like it was a crutch. The large tree was barely standing, half torn away with splitters sticking up rudely in the air as it swayed inside the dense fog and she stopped, momentarily stunned by the sight. She was fully prepared to right this off as her imagination, that she had seen one too many slasher films with her girlfriends but seeing the tree in its current, abused condition, she was having a really hard time digesting her rapidly endangering mission of making it out of the forest alive. She briefly wondered if she was still asleep, mumbling away inside the hotel suite 506 still with Jared’s decaying corpse by her side, warm under blankets of blood and sweat. She moved, running past the tree and the memory of what had just happened. She checked her watch and noted it was only ten past twelve. That’s not right. That can’t be right. If it is, the highway is too far away and I am a dead person anyways. She tapped it, thinking that tapping it would set the world right but the hand only moved to 12:11.

When her foot connected with something on the ground, it was all she could do to keep standing but after a few moments of helplessly flailing her arms she fell face first into the peddled road. Her hands stopped most of the fall but the sting told her they were not okay and her knee was agony as the new rip in her jeans exposed the deep cut to the frigid open air. She cried miserably as she made herself sit in an awkward upright position. One leg under her as the other, injured leg stretched outward. Her palms were bloody, shredded to resemble that of pulp in the white fog and she cried out again. It was only until she noticed the red through the fog that caused her to forget her pain, to forget where she was and let the fear fill her heart once more. The terror turned her heart to ice and she was dimly aware the tears falling from her cheeks had frozen over. She crawled over to it but the plummet in her stomach told her what she already dreaded. She picked up the Newton Hotel matches with a shaky, bloody hand.

“No,” she whispered hoarsely, fear dragging its horrid claws across her back once more.

“That’s mine,” said the gruff voice. A grimy thick olive colored hand snatched the packet from her hand and she once more watched as the trench coat clad man with the shadows for a face trudged through the fog disappearing. Her mouth worked up and down, eyes wide and full of terror. Her mind was racing, unexplainable things that had happened and she couldn’t make sense of anything. The pain in her body was dull, barely there as she lifted herself up like a ragdoll. She held her hands out in front of her, palms upward as she walked numb to anything around her. Her heart was beating fast, too fast as she felt a heated, rancid breath on her neck.

Jaaaddeeee,” a female whisper sprung up from the shrouded forest, “you have blood on your hands, Jaddeeeee.” Jade ignored the whisper barely audible against the thumping of her heart, her blood racing as it fought to stay warm in such a cold, dark place.

Did his blood taste good? The boys, did the boy’s blood taste on your lips?

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Albelack Road: Part 2


With slick, wet hair, nude from the waist up she pulled her black duffle bag out from under the bed and gave a deep sigh when she found it was unscathed by the pool of blood around Jared’s half naked body. She marveled briefly at how much blood he had truly lost since yesterday. She thought that might be something noteworthy to add to her diary once she got home. She also thought it was a shame she hadn’t brought a camera but when the police find the body there will be plenty of coverage she knew. Murder victim’s in Rockies resort. She slipped into a pair of tight black skinny jeans and pulled a stylish red turtleneck over her head. She fanned her silk blond hair out and brushed it quickly with her fingers in front of the mirror. She noticed the twinkling sparkle from the enormous diamond ring affixed to her left hand and she smiled pleasantly. She pulled the closet open and out spilled Jared’s ex-fiancé, a deep purple gush around her throat with an offensive looking Columbian necktie staring at her with what she viewed as some form of sarcasm. She frowned at her work. Those who appreciated the art of murder would criticize her, the sloppy form of the tongue partially cut in an amateurs attempt at vile mutilation. She didn’t like that word. Mutilation. Maybe, crime of passion, or bitch had it coming. She stroked the diamond engagement ring once belonging to the not so beautiful Marie and shut the door against her ex-rival of love.

“It was never about the ring, hunny,” she said unkindly to the rock on her ring finger, “it was about you fucking my man. Though I have to admit, the ring was an added bonus I didn’t foresee.”

She laughed and laughed until her sides hurt and when she quieted she realized she had just killed the man she loved. She stared at the mess that was Jared and a tear strolled down her cheek, as sparkly as the ring on her finger. She brushed it away hastily. With time escaping her rapidly, she ripped the knife free from Jared’s stomach and ran to the bathroom sink to rinse it with water hot enough to blister her skin. When she was satisfied the knife and sink were clean, she tossed it into the duffel bag and wrapped it around her shoulder. Jade picked the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign off the table and swung it around her finger as she stared one last time at her masterpiece.

“Good bye, my love. It was truly a night to remember,” she blew a kiss and exited the door. She wrapped the sign around the door knob and made her way to the elevator.

“Wait! Hold the door,” cried an elderly lady. For whatever reason, Jade did hold the door for her, sticking her arm between the closing frames and when the woman tapped the already pressed ground floor button she folded her arms across her chest and smiled at Jade.

“You’re the lovely lady from room 506,” she smiled.

“Yes, and I remember you. The darling and her gentlemanly husband. It must be nice to go on a second honeymoon, as young as you are,” Jade teased. The older woman blushed and smiled, waving her hand like it was nothing big.

“Well, I think I wasn’t the only one to have a wonderful night,” she winked at Jade and gave her a knowing smile.

“Oh. It was that loud, huh?” Jade blushed to herself.

“Nothing wrong with a good sex life, my dear. Any man that can you make squeal like that is a sure keeper,” the woman said and the elevator dinged.

They stepped off together and with a sincere farewell, they parted ways. It wasn’t until Jade hit the open, cool air of night that she felt her mind clear and her chest rise with happy content. The hotel was completely isolated within the Rockies, surrounded by the thick Citadel forest. The drive up with Jared was less than exciting, with nothing but greenery and a thin layer of snow that lined the hard, solid earth. She had at least expected to see a bear or two but nothing moved within the thickness and only the radio static kept her from completely falling asleep. She was never a nature nut and the scene was underwhelming and boring. She groaned now, staring out at the bleak darkness of the forest as she realized she couldn’t take Jared’s car back home. She would have to walk up to the highway and manage to hitchhike if she wanted to leave this damned world behind. Her booted heels clacked off the concrete sidewalk and soon the crunching of peddles underfoot could be heard. Albelack road was completely barren, non-paved which gave her a shudder at the under developed region. It would be a long walk, and she realized she might maybe make it to the highway by sunup but she doubted it. She shivered in the cold air, wishing she had brought gloves and a hat. Or maybe a thicker jacket. She looked back and the barely twinkling lights of the booming hotel in the distance nearly disappeared by large coniferous trees was dissolving behind a thick blanket of fog.

The forest was deathly silent and only the hoot of an eerie horned owl broke the quiet. A dense fog lay upon the ground, swirling like hands as she passed by completely concealing whatever was beneath it. The only light was the half-moon high up and she noticed the sky was cloudless, unlike before when she first awoke. Coming through the fog, she saw a dark figure and a stab of fear pierced her stomach. It was a man, she could tell by the height and robust nature though his face was concealed in the shadow of a large hat. His body was cloaked with a large beige colored trench coat that ruffled the ground as he walked and he passed her on the other side of the road without a moments glance. She heard something hit the ground and realized the man had dropped a pack of red matches. She bent down to pick the packet up.

“Sir, wait you dropped…” but when she looked up again, he was gone. The fog was so thick she could barely see her hand in front of her face but she lifted the pack towards the sky to read what it said with squinted eyes in the dim moonlight. ‘Newton Hotel’ was scrawled across thick red cardboard in a golden flourish of expert handwriting.

“That’s mine,” said a gruff voice and she screamed, startled by the man in the trench coat standing in front of her, so close that she could smell his sour breath. She stared but his face was still invisible to her eyes and she handed the packet over to him with wide, watery eyes, her shoulders uncontrollably shaking beneath her thin leather coat.

“S-sorry. You scared the hell out of me,” Jade said hearing the fearful tremor in her voice, but he said nothing and only turned away to disappear in the fog once more.

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Albelack Road: Part 1

Albelack Road

By Terrin Jarrell



            Jade pushed the serrated black blade into Jared’s stomach, laughing manically the whole time as he squirmed under her lithe, fragile body, hands bound behind his back with a strip of barely sticky duct tape. His struggle was weak and the questionable tape held strong as the sedative she had slipped into his gin and tonic earlier that evening dulled his movements to that of a kitten. The panic in his teary eyed blues gave her pleasure and she licked her strawberry colored lips with a plump tongue. He tried to speak, to tell her to stop twisting the knife in his gut but instead what came out was a thick spray of blackened blood that splattered her face as he choked on what life he had left, the pain and suffering in his eyes as the last thoughts of ‘how could you’ flash past them. She relished in his last thoughts. Why was it that she was doing this again? Clearing his bank account didn’t seem satisfying enough for Jade and as an afterthought she realized neither was cheating on him with that animal print thong bartender from Basil Club. What was his name? Cherry? Berry? She couldn’t remember and it didn’t matter she supposed because he was dead too. Maybe it was Jared’s attitude of demeaning quality or maybe she was just a plain old psycho, the ones you read about in the newspapers who murder they’re cousins for five dollars or some shit, but she wanted to kill Jared Solms. Badly.

Now that she thought about it longer than twenty seconds, with her eyebrows furrowed against her forehead it could have been his slutty fiancé that triggered Jade’s outrageously extravagant revenge. She watched the light in his eyes disappear, the crashing waves of once gorgeous blue turning to a dull, grey disorder of death. She laid her thick blond curls on his chest, listening to the last panicked flutters of his heart beat against her ear. The overpowering smell of coppery blood mixed with the that of urine and defecated pants made her squirm with nervous delight, the stolen $9,450 set of diamond earrings dancing in the smeared blood along his chin as she gazed at his dead, sweet face.

            “A shame. Such handsome beauty,” she said stroking his cleft chin with a bright red finger nail. His dead eyes regarded her with an odd smoldering passion she knew was simmering on her own green gems and she wondered if that was just her imagination or if some part of Jared had actually liked being murdered by his psychotic mistress. “Lovely,” she spoke softly before getting off his now softening erection and tugged her bright red heels off in a heap beside him. She stretched her toes and threw her blood soaked body onto the white linen bed of the somewhat empty but otherwise romantic hotel suite, laughing away as if an invisible intruder were tickling her. She kissed the stiff, chocolate covered pillows, her lipstick rubbing off as she touched herself between her thighs with a timid, quivering hand beneath the bloody and sticky pink mini dress. She pulled at the tight dress, ripped free one breast from its prison shackle and kneaded it roughly, the nipple stiff to the touch as she pushed her hips up against her withering hand. She moaned, biting her lip to stifle her pleasure. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she felt the pressure mounting, her legs shivering with excitement as she painted blood pictures on the white sheets. She suddenly shivered violently, back arching against the post screaming her orgasm as it exploded across every fiber of her blistering hot skin and she moaned in time with the rhythm of her hand.  

            “Oh god, Jared you son of a bitch. Give it to me, give it to me, OH GOD!” she moaned with delight as a second orgasm rocked her just as violently as the first had.

 The warmth spread through her body and she rode the waves of pleasure letting them drown her in a passionate embrace and when it ebbed away slowly, she stripped her dress off and slid naked under the soiled, down filled covers. She tossed her dank, sweaty hair from her eyes as she relaxed deeper into the expensive and well-earned memory foam mattress, a contented cat’s smile curled around her lips as she stroked her silky barren thigh doing figure eights in the soft flesh.

“Just as good as ever,” she spoke lazily to the room.

And when the waves of sleep took her gently in their arms, she had no worries as morning ticked past uneventfully for the rest of the day. It wasn’t until midnight did she reawaken to the world, the room smelling muddy and sickly and she remembered her carnal acts of deviously evil proportions.

“Good morning Jared. So nice to see you’re still lying around,” she smiled at his bloated grey face, dipping her foot down onto the sticky but alluring blood soaked fluffy carpet. She loved the feeling of the squish between her toes and she stretched her arms in tired approval. The precious glass door that led out to the balcony was black, twinkling yellow stars glittered above like unicorn vomit and the moon was only half full, misty magical fog swirling around it like a cloak. Night. I slept all day like a goddamn vampire, she thought gritting her teeth against the scene. The bathroom light was on as it had when they first arrived and she stepped over Jared and into the large bathroom to shower yesterday’s grim off her sultry body.

.  .  .  .  .

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Tepper’s Mill Part 3

The rusted hinges on the metal door creaked loudly as I pushed it open with one hand, the chair leg held high ready for an attack. I let Cable go first with a light, and Sevina went after him. Aber ushered Luke quietly through and Mary held Gabe close as Jenni filed in last. I closed the door quietly, jamming a piece of broken furniture as a wedge just in case the stairs proved more unsafe than outside. I flicked my light on and I saw Aber click his on and we all moved upwards like a slow train, hand on each other’s shoulders in the dark cave of some unknown office building. The occasionally crunch was heard from underfoot and a few disembodies screams echoed through the tunnel of the stairs as they climbed higher. Jenni turned to me as we came to a halting stop.

            “What level do we stop at?” she whispered.


           I allowed her time to get the message through to Cable in the front by a series of hushed whispers and before long we were moving once more. A few more steps and we came to another stop.

            “Cable doesn’t want to go in first,” she said.

            I rolled my eyes and made my way to the front of the train, tousling Luke’s hair as I passed hoping to cheer a smile out of him. I shined my light up to Cable’s face and he looked scared. They all did and I could understand. It had been weeks since we were in this kind of predicament and the group had been used to the peace. I rubbed the doorknob and pushed but nothing happened. I tried once more but still it wouldn’t budge so I had Cable hold my light. With as much force as I could muster, I forced my shoulder into the door and it banged open loudly. I paused and counted the seconds as I listened, waiting for any kind of noise that would indicate dead on this level. I took my light back from Cable and allowed everyone to come in. The twentieth level was full of cubicles and many small places to hide but everything looked relatively in place. When the disease struck, it was a holiday so many people had been visiting family members rather than at work. That was the only good thing that came out of the apocalypse. Empty buildings meant safer refuge if it didn’t contain the dead which happened to fancy the large areas. A few chairs had been flipped over but otherwise everything was in place. There was a horrible musty smell, and a few dead flowers decorated desks as we walked stealthily. We circled each desk making sure it was clear before setting up a small camp in the far corner. Mary set up a few solar paneled lanterns and Jenni handed out snacks as me and Cable stacked chairs against the door for safe measure. I winched as I shoved the last chair against the door he gave me a worried look.

            “You alright?”

            “No, I’m not,” I said shaking my head and showed him the nasty bite mark reddening against my palm. He stepped back bumping into a desk and knocked a vase off the surface, smashing to the ground in a thousand pieces. The group looked over at us with fear in their eyes.

            “Nothing, just a mouse,” I called back smiling. Mary started talking about how mice were cute and Jenni was expressing disgust. I grabbed Cable’s shirt collar firmly and pulled him close to me when everyone went back to their own business.

            “Don’t tell anyone. Not even Sevina. Got that? This stays between me and you,” I said dangerously.

            “F-fine. Nothing happened I swear,” he stuttered and I let him go roughly.

            He hurried back to the lighter area of the floor without another glance back at me and I sat back against the desk. I squeezed my hand and allowed it to ooze out before taking the medical kit from my bag and applying a fresh wrap to my hand. Within the bag I noticed a pair of black winter gloves. Putting them on, I entered the little circle of light and drank deeply from a canister of water. The group grew quiet and Cable refused to look at me, huddled in Sevina’s arms.

            “What do we do next?” asked Mary. Luke was sleeping in her lap and I hesitated as I tried to come up with a rough plan for the next twelve hours.

            “We wait till the sun comes up. In the morning a group of us will go check the front, if they’re still there we need to find an alternate exit. Presumably one near the back of the building.”

            “Hark, what if both exits are blocked off. What next?” said Jenni.

            “I can’t afford to think there isn’t a safe way out of here.”

            Aber pulled a bottle of scotch from his jacket pocket and held it up. I chuckled a little which prompted a series of horrendous coughs.

            “You okay?” asked Gabe.

            “Sure my man, just a small cold coming on,” I smiled tiredly at him and accepted a glass of scotch from Aber. I grimaced as the amber liquid rolled down my throat and he offered me a second glass. I shook my head as much as I wanted a second helping. He gave Jenni a small shot and was gasped with disgust. 

            “Is that why you’re wearing gloves?” Gabe giggled shyly.

            “Sure is,” I smiled.

            I watched the group quietly from my spot on the floor and knew this was my chance to say good bye, to tell them it had been a hell of a go while it lasted. But I couldn’t muster the strength to do so as I watched Gabe chuckle and giggle as Jenni tickled him or Mary saying no to that glass of scotch even though every fiber in her body meant to drink that whole bottle dry in an attempt to drive away the stabbing want. Eventually after Gabe had fallen asleep and Jenni huddled up to Mary for warmth, did I finally pass out. 


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The Butterfly Casket Part 3


Barry cleaned the machete-like blade with a silk piece of cloth, rubbing it with holy water he kept on hand in his jacket pocket. He removed his jacket and set it against a bar stool and rolled the sleeves of his white shirt up to his elbows. Turning to Mr. Holmes pinned down on the carpet, he first admired his successful work of art. The sub-demon was stapled to the ground, a silver peg threaded through each hand and foot. There was no blood, there never was as demons bodies were dead and had no use for internal functions or fluids. Only their insatiable lust and hunger drove them from the mindless, maddening depths of hell to plague the earth like a parasite. The couch was flipped, a few bar stools stood face down with some sparkling broken glass littering the floor as the tussle between the two had gone on rather lengthy. But Barry managed to get the upper hand and once the first peg was down, the rest were rather simple. But Barry didn’t escape flawless. He had a deep gash across his hairy chest and a slash across his eye and nose. He would live though. Smoke hissed out of the demons hands as the silver continued to burn.

“I had you pegged down as a solid class two. Maybe I should have expected a low three. You got me pretty good,” Barry said waving the blade at the demon with a small chuckle. It hissed at him but could do no harm to Barry anymore.

“Where’s the Boleyn Demon?” he asked.

The demon said nothing and turned its face away from Barry. Barry slashed the blade across the demons chest and it howled in agony.

“You have no idea what is in store!” it growled through the pain. Barry slashed again, deeper and the wailing from the thing pierced his ears.

“NOOO IDEAAAA,” it repeated.

“Where is the Boleyn Demon!?”

The demon looked at him, a moment of clarity in its eyes as it stared with hatred and greedy bloodlust. Barry understood that it knew nothing but that didn’t change Barry’s mind. He lifted the blade high and sliced the head clean off in one fluid strike. He wiped his mouth and dropped the blade against the muddied floor. He grabbed the nearest bottle of rum from the broken bar and poured it into his mouth, wincing at the burning sensation but the pain in his chest eased away. The basement was a mess; completely destroyed Barry would have no other alternative than to burn it to the ground. Make it look like an accident. But that comes with the job, he thought. He dumped the rum onto the carpet, watching it all soak up before lighting his cigarette. He took his time, gathering the materials around the demons human looking corpse and he stashed them away neatly folded back to their original spots. He gazed once more at the horror show and flicked his cigarette onto the alcohol. It caught, lighting a small blaze that soon started to engulf the rest of the basement. A few alcoholic bottles shattered in little miniature explosions and Barry hiked out of the house. He was sneaking behind the backyard fence when he heard a noise behind him.

“Hello, Barry.” Barry didn’t need to turn around to understand who was behind him.

“Levinstein,” he said with shock rippling his voice.

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The Butterfly Casket Part 1



Alright, problems arise with the Transparent Death of Sinoy and it will be postponed for now. I will enlighten you with further notice regarding it later. As for now, I have a new short story that is my personal favorite. Please enjoy it as much as I did!

The Butterfly Casket

By Terrin Jarrell

            Barry tugged at the sheer silk cloth, exposing the body under the harsh overhead lamplight. The lips were tugged closed; a piece of heavy twine looped through the dead, cracked lips with the uneven lack of expertise of a college student too bored to bother in the concept of perfection. Only a thin layer of lip balm covered the cracks rippling through the once sultry lips of the late Mrs. Palmina Holmes. A thick purple shadow flowed across her grey eyelids to cover the already bloating of her face, and a bright pink blush was added to the high cheekbones giving a strange sense that the woman was still alive and merely sleeping. Barry took the tip of his pen and held one eyelid open. A lifeless, blank milky eye stared back at him and he noted she once had beautiful brown irises that had been bold with ambition and success, with a hint of adultery hovering beneath everything. But that was something best left alone when talking to her husband. Barry didn’t need to drag Palmina’s problems back to life. Those things made his job harder. Much harder. He dropped the eyelid and it slowly closed shut.

“Is…is she really dead? Detective Marsh?” asked Mr. Holmes. Barry could hear the man ringing his hat with his hands, the squeaky squelching echoed throughout the room. He could feel the strains of a new headache coming on. Another day, another dead body.

“Very. In fact, judging by her corpse she’s been dead quite a while. Do you own a freezer? A walk-in one perhaps?” Mr. Holmes looked stunned, the wringing of his hands stopping.

“F-freezer, Detective Marsh?” Barry looked up from his notepad, eyebrows held high as he awaited an answer. But Mr. Holmes just stared at him.

“Mr. Holmes, do you or do you not own a walk in freezer?”

“Yes,” he said wringing his hands again.

“Good. Then can we all argue that you harboured Mrs. Holmes body in the freezer until you had time to eat her?”

“Marsh, what the hell are you doing?” questioned Philsby standing by the door. Barry smiled and snapped his book closed.

“Nothing. I am truly sorry for your loss Mr. Holmes. We shall do everything in our power vested to find and catch this killer plaguing the streets of our sweet beloved town of Boleyn. As for you, I would advise in refraining from leaving as the killer might want to finish up what he or she started. But probably a he,” Barry said. He left the confines of the little morgue freezer and quickly stepped out into the evening air. It was brisk, chilly, something that Barry was never used to.

“Barry, what the blue hell was that? The man lost his wife to a killer for Christ sakes and you’re badgering him about being a suspect. Dammit, forensics been through and through on this,” yelled Philsby angrily.

“Yes, through and through. You tell me each day. But do you not find it odd in a home that a man lived in, not a single strand of his own DNA could be found?”

Philsby looked nearly shocked, his face turning purple as he struggled with what emotion to carry out next.

“Barry, please. Please, please, please tell me they only transferred you here for less than a year? You’re giving me a headache and it’s only been three months.”

“Mmm, yes. Boleyn is a strange little town,” Barry said not truly paying attention to Philsby.

“Just stay away from Mr. Holmes for now. An escort will be at his house should he need it but I think you need to get home and rest. You look tired.”

“Six people have been murdered by the being deemed as the Boleyn Demon whose preferable hour of carnage is precisely midnight. When he sleeps, then shall I sleep too. But it is coming up to fifteen past eleven and I say my work is only starting,” Barry said checking his wristwatch.

“You know the term ‘Demon’ is used lightly, Barry. The only nightmare in this entire mess is that lunatic who will be caught and tried for the murder of all those women,” said Philsby.

“Phil, there are things to this world even I struggle with comprehending. Why don’t you go home and sleep.”

Philsby just shook his hands in the air and walked away, exasperated with Barry. The door to the morgue opened and an officer held the door for Mr. Holmes. Barry lit a cigarette, watching Mr. Holmes as his beady little eyes darted to all angles before they settled on Barry. Barry knew the look, the understanding of what Barry truly was and the fear that spiked through Mr. Holmes eyes. Barry smiled through the cigarette but Mr. Holmes avoided looking at him and stepped into the car held open by a second policeman. The black escort car pulled away from the curb and rolled into the night, but Barry knew Mr. Holmes was watching him through the tinted glass. This is going to be a long night.

.  .  .  .  .


Filed under The Butterfly Casket

The Merchant Devil Part 3

This is the final part to my short story the Devil Merchant. I hope you all enjoyed it. I plan to post a new story in the coming days but for now enjoy parts one and two.

Staring at her reflection in the mirror she saw the bags under her eyes had grown deeper every day. Her nightmares were vivid and all too real, demons with masks of evil and laughter peeling the flesh off living humans, humans she once knew in her life, her father, her old boss, co-workers, her ex-Jack but one face was never there and always a lone figure stood in a shroud of light so bright she was unable to look at it for too long. Her mother. A vision of beauty and purity, an aura not covered in worms and decomposing flesh but an angel unblemished by the tainted evil that haunted her life and dreams. The beauty would burn her eyes and alas in most her dreams, she would became blinded to the nameless horrors that surrounded her, tortured and deprived of a life she could never have. She started getting the shakes again and despite three blankets and an oil heater, she was still cold. A cold that only came from her broken and torn soul. Every light was on in the busted down motel room that she rented for eighteen dollars a day and though the light illuminated every corner of the room, darkness managed to linger on still. She saw a scurry under the dirty spring cot near the far wall and she curled her legs up deeper into the cocoon she encased herself in, burying her head under the blankets.

Wanting to die and end the horrors that haunted her waking life but unable proved a frustrating fact she was realizing more and more. Her contract was ending in hours and the pain she felt now will be dwarfed by what was in store later. Her head pounded despite the amount of painkillers she had already previously pumped herself full of an hour ago. Opening the lid to the bottle, she choked back six more little pills. She began to drift, sleeping was rare but sleep was the last thing that was wanted. She could barely bring herself to pull away from drowsiness.

“Your soul.” She opened her eyes at the memory, a sobering reminder of what she’d done and what awaited her.

“Excuse me?” She blinked in surprise and had almost laughed out loud.

“The terms of this contract are for your soul. In return you will have riches beyond your wildest dreams. And in five years’ time, I come to you and collect what will soon be rightfully mine. Your eternal soul.” The pleasantness that dripped from his voice moments ago, turned deadly and cold, the smile replaced with a sullen set jaw of broken teeth and yellowed, diseased bone.

“Do we have a deal, Miss Dalton?”

Undaunted by the fact he knew her last name and despite the ridiculous claims to owning her soul or amateur parlour magician tricks he’d used to scare her, she grabbed the paper and signed her name. Once her name was sealed on the paper with blood red ink, the paper burned up in front of her eyes. Astonished, she looked up to find the man gone. Everything was as it were when she had first walked in and nothing appeared changed. The only thing different was that there was a cheque of a sizable amount on the table made out to her and a letter that simply read, “Pleasure doing business with you, love.” And she began to cry.

Tears streamed down her face as she looked up at the clock. She was going to die and she knew this well in advance, yet knowing seemed almost as torturing as the nightmares and hellish visions she had experienced for the last five years. A light rap on the door signaled the beginning of the end and when the man in the suit with the horrible smile came in, he looked exactly as he had on the day of their meeting. Except he was wearing a red tie today.

“Valerie. My love, my sweet and precious, young Valerie.” She hated him, hated his use of the word love to her, but most of all she hated herself, for she saw herself in him now.

“Was everything to your liking these past years? Have they been fulfilling and to your enjoyment? Was your soul an adequate exchange for the riches you received in return?”

He smiled once more, a skeleton face with burning red eyes. Valerie had known pain, but she did not know this pain and the pain she felt was worse than anything she could ever understand. Worse than the flesh eating, flesh torturing demons, or the burning blindness of her mother’s angelic presence. Her soul was his and she would never know life or happiness again, only to wade through unending darkness. An eternity of madness. And she began to scream.


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I want to extend my greetings and welcome to my blog! I hope you enjoy my work as much as I did writing it. I will be posting as much as possible but do not fret if I am away for a little bit as work calls. I will try to post on a once a week basis but that could change. Thanks!

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