Gradually.
That was the secret, wasn't it? Build up their trust or indifference, either one would do, like in that fable about the mouse and the lion. First it was hello over the mail as they each made their way back to their separate apartments, next? Why, after months of chit chat, it was coffee shared in the buildings laundrymat. More chance meetings, more talk about incidentals, info on her fake bio. There was no need for him to learn of her unpleasant past. He would only get the wrong idea.
It wasn't really lying, not when she was honest...
100 feet away--it completely wrecks you.
I never loved you. I always didn't like you. Sometimes, I really feel bad for you. Usually you just pissed me off.
I've never met anyone with the need you have to stand so close to things. I got in trouble because I bruised your arm when I pulled you back from the campfire and you screamed as you looked at your burned widdle nose in the mirror. I didn't even feel bad when your lost the tips of three of your fingers when you stuck your hand into the tiger cage. (I didn't...
It approached.
It was too bright. Light wasn't meant to be frightening, but this one was - it was too bright, and there was too much there, it meant too much.
Easier to turn away. But that wasn't an option anymore; there were other powers at work here. There was no escape route.
Everything was happening too quickly. No time to work out what to do, no time to even begin to create other options.
Just the light. The light and the fear. And the horror that was approaching.
In a rush, in a horrific scream, bathed in terrifying light,...
Absent.
He sat right at the front, but would never once look up at the board all while knowing full well the snippy teacher would think him rude. He would only doodle inside his beat-up notebook he'd kept since seventh grade, and I would never know what exactly it was he was so intent on drawing.
It's a project, he would say.
He is not here today. He and I do not interact much, but I know he is beautiful. He is beautiful and I have loved him since I laid eyes on him. I have loved him and loved...
I leave cookies for him because I know that's what the fat bastard wants. It's an old recipe that my grandmother taught me. Sugar cookies, with red and white sprinkles in the shape of candy canes.
I hide behind the couch. It takes a while but I know he's going to come. He always comes. At about midnight, the logs in my fireplace start to tremble. A puff of smoke appears and then I see him.
He's laughing, the jolly bastard. Laughing and carrying his horrible "gifts". He takes the bait right away, as I knew he would. His mouth...
"And these words were brought to you by..."
Remember hearing that at the end of the six o'clock news? Elise wasn't sure if she were actually old enough to have heard it. Somehow though it had found its way into her vernacular. Wondering about paid endorsements seemed to be a much better topic then men lately. However the concept of the phrase was soon to bring on a revelation.
Later that night Elise met up with the girls to blow off some steam. After a few drinks a tall, gorgeous guy who went by, "Nick" approached. And as she half-heartedly...
They gathered in the woods. In ones and twos, hiding in lengthening shadows. None walked there proudly, none stood tall, with their eyes blazing. No. This was a gathering of shame, a coven of the embarrassed and beaten.
It was probably Malachai who spoke first, that devil of lovely hair who had seduced women away from their husbands for centuries. "I think it is long past time that we declare failure." There were many murmurs of agreement, along with a few shouts of disapproval.
Barbastos came next, his red skin oiled and beautiful. He was known for his ability to...
Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway. It wasn't a normal doorway because when I say doorway you think of things like wood and brass nobs and, possibly, hinges.
This had none of those.
And it was hardly a red gown, because you are likely thinking of something you'd take to a ball, or if you're the really twisted sort, and I can tell you are, there's an image of a piece of clothing given out to a somewhat disturbing institution, or asylum, for those less inclined to modern verbiage or intent on...
The ghost girls kept appearing on the photographs. Even on the really old one of my grandfather.
I wasn't that concerned, it was bound to be an effect of those new pills from the doctor. The leaflet had a million and one side effects including hallucinations.
On my seventy first birthday all the family were round my house and I was just blowing out the candles on the three level chocolate cake when there was a pounding on the door.
Police.
They took me into the kitchen and closed the door. Sparing the rest of the family the embarasssment of...
I always imagined that I'd feel nothing. Instead, I feel everything. Every paper cut, every broken heart, everything. It's like a million voices echoing in my head, vying for attention. I tip my head back, letting the wind rip through my hair. It's calming. I feel the knots in my shoulders relax, the pounding behind my eyes ease. This is it. It will soon be over. The pain, the misery, this life. It is almost over. I glance down at the crashing waves. It's a long way down. Noone will ever recover it. Its time to say goodbye. Time to...