"Get that thing away from me!" said the girl, trying to jerk away from her captors. Two men held onto to each of her arms, their hands gripping hard enough to bruise her pale skin. Her light pink button up blouse was ripped open down to her naval. Long, curly brown locks stuck to her face, which was streaked with tears and sweat.
The men forced her to her knees and she hung her head as another man approached her. His very aura radiated power. He had jet black hair which shielded one eye, the other glowed a gentle red. The girl shook in fear and finally all but gave up on her quest for freedom. She saw the man raise his wrist to his mouth and heard a sick squishing sound. Then the wrist was held out to her, dripping red sticky blood onto the floor.
The girl wasn't entirely sure what she was expected to do until the wrist extended above her head, She looked up at it, numb, blood dripping onto her cheek. The hot trail of droplets made its way towards her lips. She pursed her lips, determined not to let the blood pass through them.
This...this is some kind of sick joke, right? This can't be happening. Who are these people? Is this some kind of cult?
The man with the bleeding wrist nodded to one of the men at her arm and he pinched her nose shut. Her blue eyes widened as her panic kicked into overdrive, using up her stored oxygen in a few short moments. The pain, the pain in her chest was unbearable. Her mouth gasped wide open and the bleeding wound was pressed against her lips...
And then she looked up at her master with a smile in her eyes, blood running down her chin.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Monday, March 29, 2010
Overdrive 2
Tara came to about five minutes later. She reached up to feel the throbbing punctures on her neck. There was a small pool of blood on the floor, but she was in no hurry to clean it up. First she got a washcloth and started wiping the blood from her skin. She winced, applying pressure to scrub the dried flakes away.When she was presentable, then she turned to clean the pool on the floor.
Wrapping the towel once again around her, Tara left the bathroom and went back to her bathroom to get dressed. Her skirt was short and pink pleated. Underneath she wore black fishnets, with random holes on her thigh and calf. The t-shirt she wore was lime green with yellow smilies and neon splatters. She pulled on high top converse that went up to her knees and completed her look with about 20 brightly colored plastic bracelets that clinked cheerily. Tara pulled open the curtains in her room and slipped black oval sunglasses over her eyes. Before leaving her room, she settled her hair in curtains around her shoulders, so that the bandaid on her neck could not be seen. She went down the stairs to the kitchen.
"Honey, you need to stop staying out so late," a kind-faced woman with the same brown hair said, standing at the stove. Kara was her mother, a woman who dressed sensibly at all times. Not one thing she wore wasn't functional and cheap. She browned hamburger in a skillet. Tara's father was likely still at work and her little sister Sara was watching cartoons in the living room. Tara sighed and rolled her eyes behind her glasses.
"I'm going out," she answered, grabbing a stuffed dog backpack from where she had tossed it that morning. The door slammed shut behind her.
Tara leaned against the closed door for a second, fingers lightly tracing the angry red scabs. The cool night air felt good on her skin, which still felt like it was on fire. Then, with a slight skip in her step, she left for the party.
The rave was in full swing by the time she arrived. Pulsing electronic music filled her ears and she felt at peace. The dance floor seemed to shake from all the people packed on to it, moving to the tecno beats. Glowstickers had a corner towards the back to show off their skills, the hardcore druggies another corner to roll in by themselves. And there in the corner adjacent from the door, the masters and their pets. It was this corner that Tara made her way to.
Men and women, all young and beautiful, lounged in comfortable armchairs that seemed oddly out of place. In the middle of the group was Damian, one ankle balanced on the opposite knee, leaning his head against the hand he had propped on the arm of his chair. Tara approached meekly, and settled at his feet at a nod from him. A few of the other people glanced her way, especially when she tied her hair back to reveal the marks on her neck. They grinned secret grins and turned back to observe the goings on of the party.
Tara looked up at him when she felt his hands in her hair. He did seem to love her hair. There was a sense of longing in her blue eyes, but no emotion from him looking back on her.She tilted her head to the side and looked away, her eyes back on the action on the dance floor. The beat pounded in the floor, sending vibrations across her skin and it seemed down to her bones. Though most people found the power of EDM irresistable, Tara did not even twitch, for she did not have permission from her master to do so. After maybe half an hour of nothing but sitting, she felt a hand on her shoulder and rose to her knees, extending her wrist. The plastic beads of her bracelets clicked as they hit each other and fell, revealing another expanse of her pale skin. The man named Damian bent his head and bit into her skin with no hesitation.
This time was nothing like the time before. Before they had just been in the silence of her bathroom, but now, with the lights, music, and just the aura of the party, Tara found the sensation made her eyes roll back in her head. Pleasure tingled down to her toes, rippling across every nerve in her body. When he was finished, he pushed her wrist toward her own lips and she obediantly drank deep until a gentle touch told her to stop. Her eyes blazed as she gazed up at her master and waited for her next order.
"You may go," he said in her favorite purr. Tara rose to her feet, bowed low with her still bleeding arm crossed in front of her chest, and excitedly went off to join the crowd on the dance floor. Joyous cries of "Tara!" and "Kitty Cupcake!" followed her through the crowd. Other kids covered in the plastic bracelets called 'kandi' flocked around her, holding out their hands in an offer to give her more bracelets. A few even pulled long neck chains of beads over their heads and held them out. However, most of them retreated when they saw her bleeding wrist.
Not one person in the warehouse wasn't aware of the hierarchy that existed there. They were all servants in a way to the masters and mistresses, slaves to the parties they held. When the word went out that a rave was going to be held, all the regulars knew they had to show up or else.
Wrapping the towel once again around her, Tara left the bathroom and went back to her bathroom to get dressed. Her skirt was short and pink pleated. Underneath she wore black fishnets, with random holes on her thigh and calf. The t-shirt she wore was lime green with yellow smilies and neon splatters. She pulled on high top converse that went up to her knees and completed her look with about 20 brightly colored plastic bracelets that clinked cheerily. Tara pulled open the curtains in her room and slipped black oval sunglasses over her eyes. Before leaving her room, she settled her hair in curtains around her shoulders, so that the bandaid on her neck could not be seen. She went down the stairs to the kitchen.
"Honey, you need to stop staying out so late," a kind-faced woman with the same brown hair said, standing at the stove. Kara was her mother, a woman who dressed sensibly at all times. Not one thing she wore wasn't functional and cheap. She browned hamburger in a skillet. Tara's father was likely still at work and her little sister Sara was watching cartoons in the living room. Tara sighed and rolled her eyes behind her glasses.
"I'm going out," she answered, grabbing a stuffed dog backpack from where she had tossed it that morning. The door slammed shut behind her.
Tara leaned against the closed door for a second, fingers lightly tracing the angry red scabs. The cool night air felt good on her skin, which still felt like it was on fire. Then, with a slight skip in her step, she left for the party.
The rave was in full swing by the time she arrived. Pulsing electronic music filled her ears and she felt at peace. The dance floor seemed to shake from all the people packed on to it, moving to the tecno beats. Glowstickers had a corner towards the back to show off their skills, the hardcore druggies another corner to roll in by themselves. And there in the corner adjacent from the door, the masters and their pets. It was this corner that Tara made her way to.
Men and women, all young and beautiful, lounged in comfortable armchairs that seemed oddly out of place. In the middle of the group was Damian, one ankle balanced on the opposite knee, leaning his head against the hand he had propped on the arm of his chair. Tara approached meekly, and settled at his feet at a nod from him. A few of the other people glanced her way, especially when she tied her hair back to reveal the marks on her neck. They grinned secret grins and turned back to observe the goings on of the party.
Tara looked up at him when she felt his hands in her hair. He did seem to love her hair. There was a sense of longing in her blue eyes, but no emotion from him looking back on her.She tilted her head to the side and looked away, her eyes back on the action on the dance floor. The beat pounded in the floor, sending vibrations across her skin and it seemed down to her bones. Though most people found the power of EDM irresistable, Tara did not even twitch, for she did not have permission from her master to do so. After maybe half an hour of nothing but sitting, she felt a hand on her shoulder and rose to her knees, extending her wrist. The plastic beads of her bracelets clicked as they hit each other and fell, revealing another expanse of her pale skin. The man named Damian bent his head and bit into her skin with no hesitation.
This time was nothing like the time before. Before they had just been in the silence of her bathroom, but now, with the lights, music, and just the aura of the party, Tara found the sensation made her eyes roll back in her head. Pleasure tingled down to her toes, rippling across every nerve in her body. When he was finished, he pushed her wrist toward her own lips and she obediantly drank deep until a gentle touch told her to stop. Her eyes blazed as she gazed up at her master and waited for her next order.
"You may go," he said in her favorite purr. Tara rose to her feet, bowed low with her still bleeding arm crossed in front of her chest, and excitedly went off to join the crowd on the dance floor. Joyous cries of "Tara!" and "Kitty Cupcake!" followed her through the crowd. Other kids covered in the plastic bracelets called 'kandi' flocked around her, holding out their hands in an offer to give her more bracelets. A few even pulled long neck chains of beads over their heads and held them out. However, most of them retreated when they saw her bleeding wrist.
Not one person in the warehouse wasn't aware of the hierarchy that existed there. They were all servants in a way to the masters and mistresses, slaves to the parties they held. When the word went out that a rave was going to be held, all the regulars knew they had to show up or else.
Friday, March 26, 2010
(Copying Ichijou) Overdrive
She was a happy child. She always had been, all of her life. That was before she was introduced to the truth. Before she was introduced to him. To Damian.
The sun had just gone down when Taralynn Donahue rolled out of bed, memories of the previous night racing through her head. Pale legs shone in the semi-darkness, sticking out from beneath her pink shorts. A white tank top hung ruffled around her slender form. Thin, light brown hair fell to the middle of her back. Her locks were touched by splashes of color, pink here and some blue there. There was orange and green in her slanted bangs. Her blue eyes blinked wearily at the digital clock on her nightstand. It was scarecly seven p.m. Tara groaned and stumbled across the hall to take a shower.
The hot water streaming over her body did little to revive her. All of the girl's movements were tired, buy strangely graceful. A sense of stumbling poise surrounded her like an aura. After she finished washing up, Tara simply stood under the jet of water, staring blankly at the tiled wall, not really seeing it.
A voice called from downstairs. Tara mechanically turned the knobs to shut off the water and stepped out, reaching for her purple towel. She was only half shocked to find him holding it out to her. Her master.
Tara took the towel silently and wrapped it aorund her. For a few moments, they simply regarded eachother. Then, after a nod from him, she started to dry herself off, showing no sign of shame at her state of undress. His dark eyes watched her movements closely. When she was finished he beckoned to her and she stepped towards him. Her face betrayed no emotion as he gripped her shoulders and turned her around; he ran his fingers through her hair before gathering it up and draping it across her shoulder. His lips pressed gently against the skin at her throat. She couldn't suppress the shiver that ran down her spine, but a smile graced her lips.
She truly loved these moments with her master. His nails dug deep into her skin. The pain was intense, intensely pleasurable. His teeth pressed against her neck; her nerve endings sent pulsing electronic messages to the receptors in her brain, which were going crazy from the sensation. And then it came, the moment when his fangs pierced the barrier of her skin and they were as one, joined by blood.
Seconds passed, then minutes, and finally Tara saw black starting to gather at the corners of her vision. She crumpled to the floor, her master wiping his mouth clean of blood. And then he was gone.
The sun had just gone down when Taralynn Donahue rolled out of bed, memories of the previous night racing through her head. Pale legs shone in the semi-darkness, sticking out from beneath her pink shorts. A white tank top hung ruffled around her slender form. Thin, light brown hair fell to the middle of her back. Her locks were touched by splashes of color, pink here and some blue there. There was orange and green in her slanted bangs. Her blue eyes blinked wearily at the digital clock on her nightstand. It was scarecly seven p.m. Tara groaned and stumbled across the hall to take a shower.
The hot water streaming over her body did little to revive her. All of the girl's movements were tired, buy strangely graceful. A sense of stumbling poise surrounded her like an aura. After she finished washing up, Tara simply stood under the jet of water, staring blankly at the tiled wall, not really seeing it.
A voice called from downstairs. Tara mechanically turned the knobs to shut off the water and stepped out, reaching for her purple towel. She was only half shocked to find him holding it out to her. Her master.
Tara took the towel silently and wrapped it aorund her. For a few moments, they simply regarded eachother. Then, after a nod from him, she started to dry herself off, showing no sign of shame at her state of undress. His dark eyes watched her movements closely. When she was finished he beckoned to her and she stepped towards him. Her face betrayed no emotion as he gripped her shoulders and turned her around; he ran his fingers through her hair before gathering it up and draping it across her shoulder. His lips pressed gently against the skin at her throat. She couldn't suppress the shiver that ran down her spine, but a smile graced her lips.
She truly loved these moments with her master. His nails dug deep into her skin. The pain was intense, intensely pleasurable. His teeth pressed against her neck; her nerve endings sent pulsing electronic messages to the receptors in her brain, which were going crazy from the sensation. And then it came, the moment when his fangs pierced the barrier of her skin and they were as one, joined by blood.
Seconds passed, then minutes, and finally Tara saw black starting to gather at the corners of her vision. She crumpled to the floor, her master wiping his mouth clean of blood. And then he was gone.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
The Definition of Evil [Incomplete]
What is evil? What is it really? This is the question that has been posed to me and it is this question that I shall devote this hour to answering thoroughly.
Evil is selfishness, vanity. Evil is sin. Evil is what we have all been brought up to avoid, but somehow seem to find ourselves sucked in. We covet. Evil is everything that we know is wrong, but love to do. To be evil is to have no respect for others, their properties, their lives.
A character that is evil? I don't know if such a character exists in writing, because even the villains have to have a desirable quality to make the story compelling. I'll give it a try.
Evil is selfishness, vanity. Evil is sin. Evil is what we have all been brought up to avoid, but somehow seem to find ourselves sucked in. We covet. Evil is everything that we know is wrong, but love to do. To be evil is to have no respect for others, their properties, their lives.
A character that is evil? I don't know if such a character exists in writing, because even the villains have to have a desirable quality to make the story compelling. I'll give it a try.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
The third arm
I awoke and rolled over as my 3rd arm slapped the pillow.
Wouldn't your head be on the pillow?
So wouldn't you like slap yourself in the face?
Just a question.
Wouldn't your head be on the pillow?
So wouldn't you like slap yourself in the face?
Just a question.
Tik Tok, the State Drama version
Wake up in the morning, feeling really shitty
Grab my costume, I'm out the door, I'm gonna hit this city
Before I leave, paint some eyeliner on really black
'Cause when I leave for the day, I won’t get no slack
I'm talking everybody on the bus, bus
Mrs. Redd trying not to cuss, cuss
Everyone getting to know us, us
Waste time with ninja destruction
Create a hallway obstruction
Trying to get interaction
Don't stop, reach for the top
Mal-Pal, blow them speakers up
Tonight, we’re gonna fight
To stay in the spotlight
Tick tock not a jock
But State Drama’s gonna rock, oh
Don't stop, reach for the top
Mal-Pal, blow them speakers up
Tonight, we will fight
To stay in the spotlight
Tick tock not a jock
But State Drama’s gonna rock, oh
Ain't got a care in world, but got plenty of cheer
Ready to perform the GPA, but the judge isn’t here
And now, Central’s lining up cuz they see we got glasses
But they laugh their freaking heads off when we diss on the masses
I'm talking about everybody getting crunk, crunk
We keep losing track of all our junk, junk
Yuki’s make-up really stunk, stunk
Now, now, we go until they kick us out, out
Or the volunteers shut us down, down
Coaches shut us down, down
Po-po shut us
Don't stop, reach for the top
Mal-Pal, blow them speakers up
Tonight, we will fight
To stay in the spotlight
Tick tock not a jock
But State Drama’s gonna rock, oh
Don't stop, reach for the top
Mal-Pal, blow them speakers up
Tonight, we will fight
To stay in the spotlight
Tick tock not a jock
But State Drama’s gonna rock, oh
Judges, you build us up
You break us down
Our hearts, they pound
While we pray hard
With my hands clenched
Sweat on my brow
Waiting for that sound
Yeah, you got me
Judges, you build us up
You break us down
Our hearts, they pound
While we pray hard
Get your hopes up
Get your hopes up
Get your hopes up
Now, the party don't start ‘til Sundance wins
Don't stop, reach for the top
Mal-Pal, blow them speakers up
Tonight, we will fight
To stay in the spotlight
Tick tock not a jock
But State Drama’s gonna rock, oh
Don't stop, reach for the top
Mal-Pal, blow them speakers up
Tonight, we will fight
To stay in the spotlight
Tick tock not a jock
But State Drama really rocked, oh
Grab my costume, I'm out the door, I'm gonna hit this city
Before I leave, paint some eyeliner on really black
'Cause when I leave for the day, I won’t get no slack
I'm talking everybody on the bus, bus
Mrs. Redd trying not to cuss, cuss
Everyone getting to know us, us
Waste time with ninja destruction
Create a hallway obstruction
Trying to get interaction
Don't stop, reach for the top
Mal-Pal, blow them speakers up
Tonight, we’re gonna fight
To stay in the spotlight
Tick tock not a jock
But State Drama’s gonna rock, oh
Don't stop, reach for the top
Mal-Pal, blow them speakers up
Tonight, we will fight
To stay in the spotlight
Tick tock not a jock
But State Drama’s gonna rock, oh
Ain't got a care in world, but got plenty of cheer
Ready to perform the GPA, but the judge isn’t here
And now, Central’s lining up cuz they see we got glasses
But they laugh their freaking heads off when we diss on the masses
I'm talking about everybody getting crunk, crunk
We keep losing track of all our junk, junk
Yuki’s make-up really stunk, stunk
Now, now, we go until they kick us out, out
Or the volunteers shut us down, down
Coaches shut us down, down
Po-po shut us
Don't stop, reach for the top
Mal-Pal, blow them speakers up
Tonight, we will fight
To stay in the spotlight
Tick tock not a jock
But State Drama’s gonna rock, oh
Don't stop, reach for the top
Mal-Pal, blow them speakers up
Tonight, we will fight
To stay in the spotlight
Tick tock not a jock
But State Drama’s gonna rock, oh
Judges, you build us up
You break us down
Our hearts, they pound
While we pray hard
With my hands clenched
Sweat on my brow
Waiting for that sound
Yeah, you got me
Judges, you build us up
You break us down
Our hearts, they pound
While we pray hard
Get your hopes up
Get your hopes up
Get your hopes up
Now, the party don't start ‘til Sundance wins
Don't stop, reach for the top
Mal-Pal, blow them speakers up
Tonight, we will fight
To stay in the spotlight
Tick tock not a jock
But State Drama’s gonna rock, oh
Don't stop, reach for the top
Mal-Pal, blow them speakers up
Tonight, we will fight
To stay in the spotlight
Tick tock not a jock
But State Drama really rocked, oh
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Eulogy of the Substitute Teacher, in a poem form.
I thought I had seen fury before, but that was nothing like this.
Oh substitute teacher.
How we fumed over your iron will to make us young souls behave.
But alas, you'll find these young souls are brave
Moan and groan and threaten all you like
But promptly you will find our dislike for you will spike
And then Kiki's lover will get his name written down
We will teach you by the end of the hour that you don't wear the crown
On these days without Redd, this classroom do we rule
So get over it and realize that you're making youself a fool
We know what to do, and will do what we want instead
Calm down and sit there quietly, lest you end up without your head
You think our will is something that you stole
But sorry to tell you substitute, its us that are in control
Oh substitute teacher.
How we fumed over your iron will to make us young souls behave.
But alas, you'll find these young souls are brave
Moan and groan and threaten all you like
But promptly you will find our dislike for you will spike
And then Kiki's lover will get his name written down
We will teach you by the end of the hour that you don't wear the crown
On these days without Redd, this classroom do we rule
So get over it and realize that you're making youself a fool
We know what to do, and will do what we want instead
Calm down and sit there quietly, lest you end up without your head
You think our will is something that you stole
But sorry to tell you substitute, its us that are in control
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