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Introduction:

Introspection, rash decisions that lead to new perspective, etc...
From the Desk of Minus Three:

Here’s the second part of the Friday double dose. Yesterday spiraled out of my control as I as buffeted this way and that by a pair of new shoes and beautiful sunny day in the city. Nonetheless, as promised, chapter 5 is posted by Friday. I keep my promises.

And then there's this for those that care; dark and moody bizniz to be sure; http://www.mixcloud.com/LaceratedWax/laceration-selekta-soulcrusher/

-3


Pyre (5)


Poor Little Lamb Now His Fleece Is All Cold…

My apartment seemed smaller than it ever had. As Samael drove me and Magda back, the whole city had seemed smaller for that matter. All the people, going to and fro like insects striving for the hive, looked lucky. I’d always hated them but now I envied them their tiny little encapsulated lives. I said nothing, I did nothing, I just rode in the car while Magda held my hand and looked at me with her sad, haunted eyes.

In my living room I stood at the big window that led out to the pitiful excuse for a balcony, a narrow section of railed off nothing hung above the parking lot like a trap. Like an animal I was confined, not just by my surroundings but by my insides as well. What I’d always felt inside of me, what I’d always thought everyone must struggle with, strained against me and fought to be free. This fight was all there’d ever been, but at least now I knew what it was I was fighting against. The power of an entire race all pent up inside of me, put there for no other reason than to save a life I’d never really wanted to be living anyways. The irony of what they’d given up for me and how I had chosen to treat it wasn’t lost on me. In the end they hadn’t really done it for me anyway; they’d done it for my mother. Just one more thing in a life of things I hadn’t asked for. Just one more example of how I wasn’t worth shit in the grand scheme of things.

“Do you want to talk about it yet?” Magda asked from where she sat on my couch.

“You seem to be taking this really well,” I said without turning around to face her.

“Uh…well…not really,” she said in that soft voice of hers. There was something else there now, some kind of neediness or desperation I couldn’t put my finger on. “But I don’t want to be selfish.”

“What’d that guy on the street…Greg or whatever…mean when he was talking to you?” I asked quietly.

“What? About the money?” Magda asked. “Man, we all have a past, right? Well…my past isn’t that far in the past, Michael.”

“What are you, some kind of needle freak or something?”

“No, nothing like that,” she answered nervously. “I just had a bad habit was all.”

“Tell me,” I said plainly. “I need something else to think about right now.”

“Just some meth was all,” she said, her shy voice growing more nervous by the second. “I don’t know if I want to talk about that part of my life with you, Michael.”

“You know all types of shit about me, now,” I said to her. “Don’t you think I deserve to know? Isn’t that fair?”

“Are you trying to be a dick?” she asked sadly.

“You can’t drift into my life and not tell me who you really are,” I said. “I at least had an excuse; I didn’t know.”

“Are you trying to hurt me?” she asked.

Maybe I was. I didn’t know anymore. I knew I wanted to hurt something. What I had done on the street earlier when we’d been attacked came too easy and was over too soon. I wanted more. I should have been disturbed or worried by that, but I wasn’t. I felt cold and empty despite the weight of what was inside of me. For those brief seconds I’d felt like I had a purpose, something to stand for, something to do, some reason to live. Whatever all of this was inside of me, it was screaming to be released.

“Maybe you should go before I say anything else stupid,” I said to her, colder and harder than I’d meant to.

“Okay,” she said softly. I heard her getting up. “If you want me to go I will.”

“I…no, I don’t want you to go. But my life is full of things I don’t want.”

“So you’re going to push away something you do want?” she asked.

“I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep myself from hurting you,” I told her, still looking out the window.

“Really?” Magda asked, her voice still soft but now sorrowful as well. “Anything?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “Anything.”

“How about just not being like this?”

“What?” I asked, turning to face her. She was standing at the door with her hand on the knob, ready to leave.

She shrugged her shoulders and chewed one of her nails, looking down at her feet. “I mean…I like you. I don’t want to leave. I don’t know what I’ll do if I leave here alone, Michael. But I will…if that’s what you really want.”

I took in a breath and let it out in a long sigh. “No…stay. I’m sorry. I just…I don’t know what the fuck. I killed some guys today. I’m not even human, Magda. This is just fucked.”

She winced and then looked at her feet again, taking in a shaky breath. “I don’t know, man. I think you are. Who cares what anyone else thinks?”

“So you don’t care what I think? Typical…” I turned back towards the window and watched a few cars come and go from the parking lot below. “Just go…”

“You’re an asshole,” she said quietly, her voice shaking as she sniffled back some tears. “You think that’s what I meant? Or is that what you want me to mean?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m not gonna do this, man. Do you want me to stay or not?” she asked louder.

“Yeah. I do. But you don’t even know me, so why would you want to?” I asked her without looking away from the window.

“I was getting to know you,” Magda said, barely audible. “I don’t want to stop.”

“I’m some kind of monster,” I said, clenching my hands into fists. “Nothing good’s going to come from this.”

“If you say so,” Magda whispered. I heard a sob as she opened the door and I turned to see her covering her mouth with her hand as she stepped into the hall. “Bye.”

The door closed and I was alone again. Alone still. I stared out the window to the concrete of the parking lot far below, tears filling my eyes. Fuck all this then. I made up my mind right there on the spot. Fuck their expectations. Fuck their hopes. Fuck their dreams. Fuck their sacrifices and their bullshit allegories.

Fuck me too.

I slid open the balcony door, stepped out, and jumped.


Your Suicide As A Spectator Sport…

“Michael,” a voice said.

I tried to open my eyes but they were stuck shut.

“Michael!” the voice repeated.

I rubbed at my eyes and my hands came away with dried and crusted blood on them.

“Michael; did you hit your head, Michael?”

As my vision came into focus I saw Steve from the market on the corner kneeling over me. My whole body ached. I looked past his face looming over me to see my balcony far above. That’s right; I’d jumped. What the fuck was all this then?

“Michael!” Steve yelled again. “You okay Michael? You have blood all over you. It’s all over the ground, Michael!”

I sat up painfully. “Yeah, whatever. I don’t know. I think I’m okay.”

“Did you get drunk and trip here in the parking lot?” Steve asked, concern obvious on his face and in his voice.

“No. I jumped.”

“That’s crazy, Michael. If you jumped you’d be dead.” He helped me get to my feet. “Where’s all this blood from, Michael?”

“It’s mine,” I told him. I felt all over my body. No broken bones, no split skull, no brains hanging out or splattered across the pavement.

“You don’t look hurt though. And you don’t smell drunk, Michael,” he said, puzzlement splashed across his face the way the contents of my head should be splashed at his feet. “What happened?”

“I guess I can’t do anything right,” I said.

I left Steve standing there confused as I went back inside my building and up the dirty elevator that smelled like urine to my apartment. In the bathroom I looked in the mirror. I looked like hell and there was an awful lot of dried blood on my head and face. Pushing through my hair I couldn’t find any wound that it would have come from though. I was unharmed. In fact I felt better than I had in years.

I looked like shit though.

My hair was a mess, not just from the blood but from neglect. My face and neck were covered in weeks of stubble. My eyes weren’t as glazed and bloodshot as usual though, and I didn’t feel like I needed to either drink or puke immediately, or both in that order. I got in the shower and washed my blood from my body and hair. I got out and stood naked in front of the sink. I opened the medicine cabinet behind the mirror and found a package of disposable razors I didn’t even remember buying. It took all of them to shear the coarse beard from my face and when I was done I barely recognized myself. I looked a few years younger than usual and whole lot cleaner. With a pair of scissors from the drawer in the kitchen, recently cleaned and organized by Magda, and evened out my hair so it hung to my ears instead of below my jaw.

I went into my bedroom and put on some clean clothes, a simple black hooded sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, recently washed and neatly folded by Magda. Magda; with her soft voice and her timid smile. I missed Magda.

I pulled my black knit hat on, put my sunglasses over my eyes, threw on a pair of black skate shoes, and left. I didn’t know where I was going, but she was out there on the street somewhere. Something inside of me, usually cold and awkward and straining at the seams, was now warm and comfortable. It was in every fiber of me filling me up, instead of being packed down somewhere deep and ignored taking up space I could use for drink or self loathing.

I’d found my cell phone, buried in a drawer previously but now arranged neatly along with everything else by Magda. Turning it on I was surprised for a second that it still worked, but I shouldn’t have been. I didn’t pay the bill after all; all that sort of stuff came out of a trust fund somewhere, the same fund that put an allowance in my bank account every month. As poorly as I’d treated my family they had never cut me off. I had 100 messages and the inbox was full. I selected ‘delete all’ and started fresh.

Something inside of me had died in the parking lot and I didn’t miss it now that it was gone. I wouldn’t recommend suicide as a way to find peace. But it seemed to have worked for me.


Where the Serpent Shudders and the Angel Sings…

As a general rule, I brood. I’d turned brooding into a lifestyle and melancholy into a religion. I’d perfected it in the last half of my life. I had brooding to the point where it surpassed ‘art concept’ and became ‘scientific rigor’. Show me some moody fuck propping up the end of the bar somewhere and I’d show you someone that hadn’t even come close to hitting bottom. When ‘hitting bottom’ becomes synonymous with ‘hitting the parking lot under your balcony’ you gain a certain perspective on things. I wondered how many leapers and hangers and shooters and pill poppers saw what I now saw right in the last second and then lamented that at that point it was too late to use what they now saw?

As I walked the streets looking for Magda I passed an old woman on a bench. She looked hungry and her eyes were distant and far away. I could barely read her little cardboard sign but I knew what it must say. I gave her the entire wad of crumpled bills from my pocket and smiled at her as she looked up at me in awe and disbelief. I didn’t know how much it was; 200 dollars? Maybe 300? A few blocks later I took a blind man’s white cane from him at a crosswalk and took his glasses off. He protested; of course he did, he probably thought I was trying to mug him. I put my hand on his face and shushed him and he went calm at my touch. His eyes, clouded over with cataracts, cleared and focused on me. He inhaled a sharp breath as the first thing he saw in who knows how many years was his own reflection in my sunglasses. I led a little girl who was crying and lost back to her front door to the overjoyed tears of her mother, who just kept asking me how I could possibly have known where she lived. My only reply was to tell her that the envelope with the rent money she had lost had fallen behind the TV so she could tell her landlord not to evict her that afternoon.

And so my day went.

I’d been walking around the city randomly for hours when I found her. Magda was sitting against a dirty brick wall in an alley and she didn’t look very good. Her eyes were red and I could tell it wasn’t just from tears. She was pale and her hands were shaky. She didn’t recognize me at first, but as I helped her to her feet her eyes went wide.

“Michael!” she said. She had an odd look in her eyes and she spoke quickly. “I didn’t know…that it was you.”

“Hi,” I said, smiling at her and taking my glasses off. “Can you forgive me?”

“What?” she asked, looking at her feet nervously. “Oh yeah. Yeah sure. Sure. You should go though. I mean, you should really go.”

“You’re high, aren’t you?” I asked her warmly, like I was asking the time.

“What? No. No no no.”

“You don’t have to lie, I’m not angry. Come on, let’s get out of here.” I put my arm around her shoulders and started walking out of the alley.

“I can’t. I can’t I can’t. I’m waiting for someone.”

These things always seem to happen on cue. I was just putting my lips to her cheek and she was just taking in a sharp breath as her head cleared in an instant, when the guy she’d been waiting for came around the corner into the alley.

“Who’s this guy?” he asked. “I thought we were going to go party.”

“Hey man,” I said. “We’re cool. Magda’s not going with you, though. Okay?”

“What? Fuck you,” he said. He looked mean and drawn tight like a bowstring. “She’s coming with me, I just picked up.”

“Nope,” I said, smiling. “Sorry. She’s not.”

“And who are you to tell her what to do?” the mean looking guy asked, taking a threatening step towards me.

“Michael, please don’t…” Magda started.

“Shhhh,” I cut her off. “Don’t worry. Look man, it’s not your fault.”

“What’s not my fault? What the fuck are you talking about?” he asked, trying to menace me with his tone.

“I know what happened. When you were just a little kid. It’s not your fault, man.”

I could see it all. I could hear it echoing around in his head. What his father had done to him and his sister and how he got high and hurt people to try to feel in control of something. It really wasn’t his fault. And I told him so. I told him all of it. He slumped back against the wall with a tear stuck in his eye and his lips quivering.

“I forgive you,” I told him as we passed and he slid to the ground, stunned.

“What’s going on Michael?” Magda asked. “How did you…”

“Long story,” I said, holding her closer as we walked. “Actually no, it’s not. It’s just not a very interesting one. Let’s just say you aren’t the only one who slipped and fell today.”

“Wh..what are you t…talking about?” she stammered, her eyes wide.

“You got high, right?” I already knew the answer. “And you were going to go keep getting high no matter what you had to do, right?”

She looked crestfallen and her lips started twitching. “Michael, I’m so sorry. I just…I…”

“Don’t explain. I already know. It’s okay, I get it,” I said, smiling at her.

The rush I’d been getting helping people as I looked for her had been fading, but now with Magda at my side it was returning. I could actually see strands of light around us, dancing and twining together like nothing I’d ever seen before in my life. It was unreal. I could actually hear her thoughts; not just the tangled confused mess I usually picked up from people, impossible to fully decipher. I knew what she was thinking even as she herself thought it.

“This is…this is…” she stuttered.

“Confusing and hard to believe. I know, like I said,” I smiled at her again, took my glasses off, and winked at her. I actually heard her thoughts slam to a halt when I did it, and her breath caught in her chest. “Sorry…”

“How are you doing this?” she asked.

“You already know,” I said. “Come with me, we’re going to my place. I shouldn’t have told you to leave.”

“You’re not mad that…”

“Nope,” I said. “You don’t have to say anything about it, either. You don’t want it anymore, do you?”

She stopped and thought about, thought hard. She searched everywhere inside herself. It was fascinating to sense her doing it. It was like hearing and seeing all at the same time, but was neither.

“I…I really don’t,” she said, a smile spreading across her face.

“And you never will again,” I reassured her, my smile getting bigger. “You’re healed.”

“This is…”

“Fucking crazy? I know it is,” I told her.

We walked mostly in silence to my apartment, apart from Magda’s attempts to explain how crazy all of this was. My first instinct each time was to tell her she didn’t have to say anything about. I already knew. I already heard it in her head. I could tell she wanted to say it out loud though; I was going to have to be careful with this. It would be too easy to just run rough shod over people like I had to those I’d healed or helped or cured on my walk looking for her. It would be too easy to batter and pummel people with whatever this was inside of me.

When we got off the elevator I saw someone outside my door, sitting on the floor with her knees pulled up against her chest typing on a cell phone. She wore a little white dress that left her shoulders bare and only came to her mid thigh. She looked too clean and pretty to be in a place like this and my first thought was that she must be at the wrong place entirely. She was small; more than small, she was tiny. Her long brown hair hung down low past her waist to pool on the floor on either side of her. As we approached she looked up from her phone and when her green eyes met my own she bit her lip and my chest jerked with an involuntary sob.

She spoke in a tiny little voice that shook a bit with emotion. “Hello Michael.”

“Hi,” I said, my voice tight and choked. My mouth moved as I tried to say more, but the words had all fled.

She hopped to her feet in front of me and held out her arms. “Can I have a hug?”

I slowly opened my arms and she leapt forward to wrap her thin little arms around me, bursting into tears as she did.

“You stupid boy,” she mumbled into my chest through her tears, “You stupid stupid boy, I’ve been so scared for you.”

“What are you doing here?” I asked when she finally let go of me and stepped back, leaving one hand on my arm.

“After you called I got Samael on the phone and we came as soon as we could,” my mother said. “Mark and Lisa…they’re down in the car in the parking lot. Michael, your neighborhood sucks. There’s blood all over your parking lot.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s mine,” her eyes and mouth went wide and so did Magda’s beside me. “I’ll explain later.”

“Explain now, Michael,” she said stubbornly. “What the hell did you do?”

“Yeah Michael,” Magda said to me. “Explain now.”

“No, later. Please,” I said. My mother looked at Magda, then at me making a gesture towards Magda with her head. “Oh shit. Magda, this is my mother.”

“I know,” she said softly, smiling at my mom. “It’s really an honor.”

“Hi, please don’t call me ‘Michael’s mom’, though. My name’s Aliona.”

“This is actually bad timing” I said to my mom, blushing a little.

She smirked at me with her lopsided little grin and her eyes sparkled and she winked at me. Tiny crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes and thin smile lines around her mouth sprang into view on her perfect little face.

“Okay. I get it,” she giggled like the jostling of fine china. “There are some things you don’t have to explain to me. Will you call me later?”

“Yeah,” I said, kissing her on her face and making her giggle again. “I will. I’ll call you soon and we can talk.”

“Kick ass!” she beamed. My mother leaned in close, speaking quietly but not so quietly that Magda couldn’t hear her. “She’s very pretty, Michael.”

She winked at Magda and then blew a little bubble with her pink gum and sauntered down the hallway to the elevator, looking back over her shoulder at us and waving with a wiggle of her tiny fingers. When the elevator opened she hopped in with a little skip of her feet and was gone.

“That was…she’s still…” Magda stammered.

“I know, it’s freaky right?” I said, shaking my head and opening my door. “She’ll never seem quite …human. No matter what.”

“So what’s the plan here?” Magda asked shyly as I closed the door to the hallway.

“Shhh,” I said, putting my finger on her lips and gently pushing her back against the door. “No words.”

I pushed Magda’s jacket down off her shoulders and my lips against hers. She put her hands on my hips and pulled me against her, sliding them upwards to lift my shirt and pull it over my head. Her shirt joined mine on the floor and she was pushing me backwards towards my room as her hands fumbled at my belt and the zipper of my jeans. By the time we were beside my bed she had them undone and I sat down in front of her, kissing her stomach as I undid her pants and pushed them off of her. Magda had her hands in my hair as I kissed her and when she stood before me naked she went slowly to her knees and pulled my pants from under me and to the floor.

She looked up at me with a look of lust on her face as she slid her hands up my thighs and took my cock in both her hands. The sun had gone down outside but the orange glow of the streetlights shone through the window and illuminated her as she lowered her mouth to me, still looking at me, and licked my cock from base to tip with her extended tongue. I leaned backwards with my elbows on the mattress under me as she put her lips around my head and swirled her tongue around it inside her mouth. Instead of moving her head up and down she did all the work with her lips and cheeks, sucking and slurping softly and wetly.

Her dark hair hung loose around her shoulders and on my legs and I pushed it back so I could see her face better. Magda had a look of intense concentration on her beautiful face, and as I pushed her hair away she looked up at me and slowly pushed her face forward, taking the entire length of my cock into her mouth and the top of her throat. She made soft swallowing motions with her throat, then pulled all the way off of me, wiping her chin and smiling up at me before standing and slowly putting one leg on either side of me. I reached between us, taking my cock in my hand and pointing it up at her pussy, but she shook her head and pushed my hands away.

“Let me,” she whispered.

She put both of her hands on my cock, one on either side, and guided it to her wet pussy, lowering herself slowly and sliding down my length with a long high pitched sigh. Her legs shook as she did it, struggling to accept my size, and she gasped loudly when she was all the way down and paused, sitting in my lap and holding my face to her chest. She gasped again when I took one of her breasts to my mouth and sucked gently on her erect nipple. Magda began rocking her hips back and forth, my cock moving deep inside her. Her nose and forehead wrinkled and her mouth went wide as she squinted her eyes shut and ground herself around in my lap, swiveling her hips.

I held her ass in my hands, relishing the feel of her muscles working as she fucked me slowly. Her panted sighs grew in volume and she increased the speed of her gyrations. Before long she had her hands on my shoulders to help lift herself up and down, half the length of my cock sliding in and out of her tight, wet pussy. There was a soft slap each time she came down and grunted with my cock banging deep inside of her. Her grunts turned to short sharp cries of pleasure and I could feel the muscles inside of her undulated and gripping at me.

I pushed upwards into her once, hard, and as she came back down with a scream I gripped her ass harder and flipped her onto her back on the bed. Magda locked her ankles together, her long smooth legs wrapped around me, and I moved my cock deeply in and out of her. Her hands went from my shoulders to my back and she dug her nails into my skin hard, dragging them down to the small of my back to grab my ass and pull me into her. I put my hands on her shoulders and held her down as she screamed out for me to fuck her, panting and gasping and sighing and mewling and purring.

Over and over I pushed into her, her back arching and her body spasming. I could actually hear her thoughts, I knew what she wanted and how she wanted it and I gave it to her. She came again, then again, then a fourth time before I exploded inside of her as I never had before. Her arms and legs had spread out to push her heels into the mattress and pull at the sheets at some point, but now she threw them around me once again, holding me tightly like she would never let me go. I looked around, my head spinning, and was surprised to see that the entire room was illuminated by the strands and cords of light strung between us, wrapping and twisting and tangling. I could actually feel them holding us together.

“Michael,” Magda whispered after some time of us laying there in each other’s embrace.

“Yeah?” I asked quietly.

“Is it weird that…that I love you?”

“No. I think I can actually see it. I think I love you too…”

“Good. Because I love you, Michael,” she said, one hand on my neck and the other on the back of my head as she put her lips against my ear.

She had fallen asleep when, about an hour later, I was lying behind her with my arm draped over her side and her ass pressed back against me. I stroked my fingers lightly over the fine scar above her ass on the left side and I could feel a warmth tingling in my fingers. I rubbed a bit harder, somehow knowing that I could take it away and erase it from her beautiful skin. Magda stirred and woke.

“What are you doing?” she asked with her shy soft voice.

“Making this scar go away,” I said as I pressed my fingers gently against it.

“Don’t. Please don’t,” she said, rolling to face me.

“What? Why?” I asked her.

“So I never forget,” she said, putting her hand on the side of my face. Tears came to her eyes. “You can’t heal everything, Michael.”

“I can try,” I said.

“Some wounds aren’t meant to heal,” she whispered.

“What’s it from?” I asked her.

“Not now,” she said. “This is too perfect, please don’t make me tell you.”

I was about to brush against her mind and find the answer myself, then stopped. I wrapped my arms around her and stroked her hair with my hand as she wept softly until she slept. I decided then that when I found out whoever had hurt this girl I’d make them pay. I felt a rising heat inside of me and I recalled what had happened earlier when she had been threatened, and I forced it deep back down inside of myself.

Then I slept.
12 comments

Anonymous readerReport

2014-09-01 01:16:07
It's good to see someone thiinkng it through.

Anonymous readerReport

2014-08-21 06:10:29
Super infoamrtive writing; keep it up.

anonymous readerReport

2013-11-06 22:31:39
Chapter One

“This will surely go down in the record books as the storm of the century.” The meteorologist’s voice bellowed from the 32 inch flat TV screen. That was the last thing Sarah Sheldon heard before the lights flickered, once…twice, and then everything went dark. Her body stiffened, paralyzed by her fear of storms.

“Shit!” she shrieked. “Daddy…? The power’s out!”

Of course he would have already figured that one out for himself, but Sarah had been afraid of storms for as long as she could remember and the idea of sitting alone, staring at nothing but darkness, made her petite body shiver. Or was that because along with the lights, the heat had been instantly severed by the blustery weather as well?

She reached for the throw blanket draped across the back of the couch and wrapped it around herself until just her face was sticking out of the soft fleece. “Daddy!” she yelled again.

“I’m right here, sweetheart.” Sarah couldn’t see hi

anonymous readerReport

2012-11-23 12:43:51
"not new at all"

It's totally Ephra. Nice Chekhov's Gun, dude.

Minus ThreeReport

2011-09-12 23:03:14
Tomorrow I'll have tow fresh chapters for y'all. Today was a very busy day.

If you want to stay current on my goings on, find the link to my Facebook page on my profile and lcick up the Like button.

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