Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Bats set listies 121811

I have no witty opening this time, unfortunately. Call it, the holidays, I guess.

But watching people dance and interacting with the audience (YOU GUYS!) always makes me happy. Thank you. I even got to bust out my favorite Amon Tobin song in the first set. Yay! <3

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Bats
The Box - Santa Cruz (industrial/noise/ebm/gothy/punky/post-punk/anything that wears predominantly black)



I

Black Room

El Wraith [ed. note: I like to call it El Ghost] - Amon Tobin
Lust - KMFDM
Evil Playground - Front Line Assembly
Automatic Love - Die Form
Total Job (Photek Remix) - The Faint
Never Ending - Imperative Reaction



*BIRTHDAY CAKE INTERMISSION!!!*
Summer Prelude - Clint Mansell/Kronos Quartet



II

Black Room

My Eyes Are Red - Hex Rx
No Frequency (Imperative Reaction Remix) - Terrorfakt
Living the Wasted Life (Machineries Mix) - Aesthetic Perfection
Feuer Frei! (Straftanz Remix) - Nachtmahr
Fuck the System (Fukkk Offf Mix) - Cyberpunkers
Satisfaction (Club Mix) - Benny Benassi

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No Box for me this Sunday, unfortunately. Going to be overloading on food and tidings of comfort and joy with la familia, which should be interesting. Alas, it'll still be up and running, so if you're in town you should go and shake it with the best of 'em.

Take care guys. Happy holidays to you all, whichever one you choose (or refuse) to celebrate.

*Imaginary snow drifting outside the window frame*

*Hot chocolate and gingerbread men cookies*

*Camera pans and fades to black*

Friday, December 16, 2011

WOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! PUBLICATION!!!! (part deux)

The second part of my short story, Orphanage has been published!!! You get to see Mayra Milk's especially snarkier side.

Check it out in Underneath the Juniper Tree's Winter Issue!

Awesome artwork this time around is by the artist Luis Pinto. Again, VERY flattered to have such awesome art paired with my words.

Only one more part after this one, and I'm keeping you posted as soon as it comes out! WOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Monday, December 12, 2011

Bats set listies 121111

DJ Stats gave me the sweetest compliment last night. She said if her roommate ever murdered me (which he most likely wouldn't, but, you know), she would murder him in retaliation.

D'aaaawwwww!

Make a girl feel special, why don't ya. :)

Seriously, though: thank you for the compliments, guys. It really does mean a lot to me, and makes me feel all spiffy. And thanks for braving the rainy and the coldy last night, everyone. Shaking and stomping is the surest way to warm both the body and soul, am I right? (I am.)

I was in the Black Room both times! The power of oontz compels me!

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Bats
The Box - Santa Cruz (industrial/noise/ebm/gothy/punky/post-punk/anything that wears predominantly black)



I

Black Room

Evil Playground - Front Line Assembly
Land of Milk and Honey - Funker Vogt
American Porn Song - 16 Volt
Bind, Torture, Kill - Suicide Commando
I Feel Loved - Depeche Mode
Days of Swine and Roses (KMFDM remix) - Thrill Kill Kult



II

Black Room

My Eyes Are Red - Hex Rx
Living the Wasted Life (Machineries mix) - Aesthetic Perfection
Boom Boom Boom! - Nachtmahr
Straftanz Ost - Straftanz
Structure - VNV Nation
Agenda Suicide (Adult.period remix) - The Faint (request [kinda])
Sleep Now (Angelspit mix) - Angelspit
Chop You - Demodulate



(Photo courtesy of Jesse Kenneth Cotu Williams)

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Woo!

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Bats set listies 120411

It was a bit of an off night, honestly, but I don't think anyone could complain. It was cold. There were finals. What can you do? C'est la vie. People were still out and about and having a good time, so that's all I'm caring about. Love.

Anyway, I like any old excuse to bust out Strongbad's techno song in a dance environment.

The system is down.

Down

Down

Down

Down

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Bats
The Box - Santa Cruz (industrial/noise/ebm/gothy/punky/post-punk/anything that wears predominantly black)



I

Black Room

Evil Playground - Front Line Assembly
Freuer frei! (Straftanz Mix) - Nachtmahr
Straftanz Ost - Straftanz
My Eyes Are Red - Hex Rx
Without Emotions - Combichrist
Chop You - Demodulate
I Feel Loved - Depeche Mode



II

Black Room

Days of Swine and Roses (KMFDM mix) - Thrill Kill Kult
Fuck the System (Fukkk Offf mix) - Cyberpunkers
Spill - Demodulate
Sleep Now (Angelspit mix) - Angelspit
No Frequency (Imperative Reaction Mix) - Terrorfakt
Total Job (Photek mix) - The Faint
The Siren - Aesthetic Perfection
Funker Vogt – Funker Vogt (request)
Bass and Percussion - [x]-Rx
Strongbad Techno – Strongbad
***ENCORE!!!!***
LoveGame (Aesthetic Perfection remix) - ROMA-AH-AH-AH, GAGA OOH-LA-LA (request)

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My fingers are cold, and I am barely able to type. Bunk.

Friday, December 2, 2011

Bats set listies 120111

I must say, I was pretty surprised by the turnout last night.

Surprised, and incredibly flattered.

Thanks to everyone who showed up and shook asses! Thanks for having me, Club Apparition! It was a blast invading your delightful little club, and consuming a number of your Coronas. Let's do it again sometime. :)

First set spooky.

Second set stompy.

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Bats
Club Apparition - San Jose (goth/deathrock/horrorpunk/industrial/ebm/noisy)



I

Lucretia My Reflection - Sisters of Mercy
So Alive - Love and Rockets
Phantoms - 45 Grave
Halloween - Siouxsie and the Banshees
Red Blood Motorcycle On a Road On Fire - Human Toys
American Nightmare - The Misfits
Dead and Buried - Alien Sex Fiend
Psycho Killer - Talking Heads
Release the Bats! - The Birthday Party



II

Rituals (iVardensphere Remix) - God Module
Straftanz Ost - Straftanz
Spill - Demodulate
No Frequency (Imperative Reaction Remix) - Terrorfakt
Structure - VNV Nation
Sleep Now (Angelspit Mix) - Angelspit
Total Job (Photek Mix) - The Faint (request)

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I'll see you guys at The Box this Sunday, in the meantime. OOOWWWW!!

Monday, November 28, 2011

Bats set listies 112711

I was feeling a bit under the weather (and still am, slightly); hence, this is a brief and not-quite-as-jaunty entry. Don't worry, I won't breathe on you.

However, things went swimmingly otherwise. Only one set in the Black Room this time around, but it's all good. Y'all seemed to dig it, so that's what I'm aiming for. Thanks for being there, guys. :)

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Bats
The Box - Santa Cruz (industrial/noise/ebm/gothy/punky/post-punk/anything that wears predominantly black)

Black Room

Total Job (Photek Mix) - The Faint
Courtship Dating - Crystal Castles
Structure - VNV Nation
Feuer frei! (Straftanz Mix) - Nachtmahr
No Frequency (Imperative Reaction Mix) - Terrorfakt
This Shit Will Fuck You Up - Combichrist (request)
Going Nowhere - Access Zero
Stiff Kittens - Blaqk Audio

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YES! And I WILL be spinning at Club Apparition this Thursday, December 1st, in San Jose. So come shimmy on the bowling alley-esque dance floor. Do the Breakfast Club dance, or something. You know which I'm talking about (not The Ringwald, but no objections if you do!)

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Bats set listies: BOX's 12 Year Anniversary


Congratulations THE BOX!!! 12 years and still goin'! The Box wouldn't be able to happen without its lovely attendees, so for that we thank you for giving us such amazing support and love.

It was a good night. A damn good night. Lots of merriment. And CUPCAKES!!!!!

We brought the fucking chain link fence out in the Black Room and DJ Shadow Angel may have given me one of my favorite compliments ever, saying that I looked like I could be part of The Walking Dead with my thrashing about and pantomiming against it during my set. What can I say, I like to perform.

I may have enlisted myself as DJ Stats' personal go-go dancer, at the end of the night.

She may have approved. (She did.)

So thank you again, everyone. Our humble little club would be nothing without you. *Lovesnuggles*

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Bats
The Box - Santa Cruz (industrial/noise/ebm/gothy/punky/post-punk/anything that wears predominantly black)



"12 Fucking Years"


I

White Room

Cities In Dust - Siouxsie and the Banshees
So Alive - Love and Rockets
Situation - Yaz
Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) - Eurythmics
Personal Jesus - Depeche Mode
Headhunter v. 1.0 - Front 242
Juke-Joint Jezebel (Metropolis mix) - KMFDM
Only - NIN
Agenda Suicide - The Faint
Heartbeats - The Knife



II

Black Room

Structure - VNV Nation
Rituals (iVardensphere mix) - God Module
Spill - Demodulate
Fuck the System (Fukkk Offf mix) - Cyberpunkers
100% - Angelspit
LoveGame (Aesthetic Perfection remix) - Gaga ooh-la-la [teehee]
Never Ending - Imperative Reaction

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I head up north tomorrow for familial/Thanksgiving things (pray for me), but I WILL BE BACK. FUCKIN' PLAN ON IT!!

Monday, November 14, 2011

Bats set listies 111311

It was another sleepy night for me. I guess I'm finally getting fucking old. Blame a horrible wake up from the morning. Picture it: Three Doors Down being blared in my oldest brothers' kitchen, about four or five yipping chihuahuas, and a couple adolescent nieces screaming for said brothers' attention. Add it on top of a 5.5 hour trek back to the Cruz (and a brief wine break in between [thanks Julia!]) and you'll get the gist of things.

Irish coffee helped, but then my mind got a little wobbly after a stiff Crown & Sprite® or two, so I guess that explains how the sets came to be..? They weren't bad, I'd think.

Either way, not too shabby a night, in my humble opinion.

I was in the Black Room the both times. OONTZ, OONTZ, OONTZ, OONTZ.

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Bats
The Box - Santa Cruz (industrial/noise/ebm/gothy/punky/post-punk/anything that wears predominantly black)



I

Bass and Percussion - [x]-Rx
Never Ending - Imperative Reaction
Without Emotions - Combichrist
Straftanz Ost - Straftanz
My Violent Heart (remix) - NIN
Victim - FGFC820
It's Who I Am - Leaether Strip
Smack My Bitch Up - Prodigy



II

Rituals (iVardensphere mix) - God Module
American Porn Song - 16 Volt
100% - ANGELFUCKINGSPIT
Bind, Torture, Kill - Suicide Commando (request)
Going Nowhere - Access Zero
Hit Me Hard - Noisuf-X
SS Deathstar Supergalactik - Hanzel Und Gretyl
Spill - Demodulate

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Next week is our BIG 12 YEAR ANNIVERSARY!!!!!!!!! WOO!!!! Come shake it for a dozen years of being spooky and stomping fuckers into oblivion all in one setting!!

Monday, November 7, 2011

Bats set listies 110611

I was a bit low energy at the beginning of the night (blame the weather, I guess), so the first set was a bit of a mellow tempo, but it seems everyone else was feeling the same. So...that's good!

Either way, thanks again everyone. You guys shoot me full of energy and adrenaline and excitement--something that was very needed last night. We're also working on getting me to spin at Club Apparition sometime this month, so I'll keep you posted on that.

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Bats
The Box - Santa Cruz (industrial/noise/ebm/gothy/punky/post-punk/anything that wears predominantly black)



I

White Room

Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others - The Smiths
Terror Couple Kill Colonel - Bauhaus
Enjoy the Silence - Depeche Mode
True Faith - New Order
Cities In Dust - Siouxsie and the Banshees
Ubiquitous Mr. Lovegrove - Dead Can Dance
#1 Crush - Garbage
Heathen Child - Grinderman
The Witch - The Cult
Why Can't I Be You? - The Cure



II

Black Room

Bind, Torture, Kill - Suicide Commando (request)
Straftanz Ost - Straftanz
Rituals (iVardensphere mix) - God Module
Automatic Love - Die Form
Total Job (Photek mix) - The Faint
Chop You - Demodulate
The Siren - Aesthetic Perfection
Fuck the System (Fukkk Offf mix) - Cyberpunkers
Going Nowhere - Access Zero
Sleep Now (Angelspit mix) - Angelspit

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I head down to Ventura at the end of the week, but rest assured, I will be back to shake it with the best of youse.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

WOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! PUBLICATION!!!!

Here's the final product of the first part of Orphanage being put into print!!

http://issuu.com/underneaththejunipertree/docs/november2011/49

Thanks so much, Underneath the Juniper Tree for taking this story in and breathing some extra life into it. And thanks to Jason Smith for providing such beautiful artwork.

There will be two more after this one, so it looks like I need to get to work! OOWWW!!!

And read the other stories in there, too! They're awesome, and not just hokey kids' stuff. Great stuff if you're into Gaiman, namely.

:)

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Photographic evidence

As promised, actual pictures of both me, and my Kato costume:


edit: okay, maybe it's just because my computer's tiny, but it doesn't want to load the whole image when I view it through the journal, and cuts it in half as though it's too large to handle (that's what she said [snort]), so I'm just going to provide links.



http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v258/Emelyn/006-4.jpg

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v258/Emelyn/007-3.jpg

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v258/Emelyn/004-3.jpg

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v258/Emelyn/002-2.jpg



The aftermath:

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v258/Emelyn/halloweenpic-1.jpg

Monday, October 31, 2011

Bats set listies: Devil's Night

Shit was crazy in a good way last night, and I'm so glad everyone had fun. Y'all looked fantastic.

I was pretty flattered no one recognized me in my Kato costume. I'll post pics eventually, when I'm feeling a bit more up to it (it's been a pretty rough day, unfortunately).

Happy Halloween, guys. Have fun out there. :)

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Bats
The Box - Santa Cruz (industrial/noise/ebm/gothy/punky/post-punk/anything that wears predominantly black)





I

White Room

Halloween - Siouxsie and the Banshees
Dead Souls - Joy Division (request)
So Alive - Love and Rockets
Psycho Killer - Talking Heads
Dead and Buried - Alien Sex Fiend
Release the Bats! - The Birthday Party
Human Fly - The Cramps
Trance - Tiger Army
Skulls - The Misfits
Red Right Hand - Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds
Chainsaw - Skinny Puppy
More Human Than Human - White Zombie



II

Black Room

Straftanz OST - Straftanz
Without Emotions - Combichrist
Spill - Demodulate
Kernkraft 400 - Zombie Nation
Princess Chaos (Angelspit remix) - Angelfuckingspit [haha, this totally cleared the floor :P]
Bind, Torture, Kill - Suicide Commando
I'm Your Boogie Man (Sex on the Rocks mix) - White Zombie

Monday, October 24, 2011

Bats set listies 102311

Ah, tonight was much better than the last time. I love it when technology is not a flaming bitch.

Thanks so much for shaking asses, everyone, and for all the compliments. I'm glad y'all enjoyed it.

Special thanks to DJ Stats (CHECK OUT HER SHIT) for hooking technical things up in the Black Room. Despite her crusty industrial shell, she's actually a big ol' nougat-y soft sweety at the core. Just don't tell her I told you (she'll be pissed). :P

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Bats
The Box - Santa Cruz (industrial/noise/ebm/gothy/punky/post-punk/anything that wears predominantly black)





I

Black Room

Angel - Massive Attack
Land of Milk and Honey - Funker Vogt
American Porn Song - 16 Volt
Courtship Dating - Crystal Castles
Bind, Torture, Kill - Suicide Commando
Spill - Demodulate
Princess Chaos (Angelspit remix) - Angelfuckingspit



II

White Room

Cuts You Up - Peter Murphy
Spellbound - Siouxsie and the Banshees
Jumping Someone Else's Train - The Cure
Stigmata Martyr - Bauhaus
Personal Jesus - Depeche Mode (because the combination makes me laugh)
Headhunter V 1.0 - Front 242
Juke-Joint Jezebel (Metropolis mix) - KMFDM
Blue Monday - New Order
Join In the Chant (Burn!) - Nitzer Ebb
Head Like a Hole - NIN

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Next week is our big Devil's Night/pre-Halloween bash! WE ARE REALLY FUCKING EXCITED. I AM REALLY FUCKING EXCITED. Hope y'all can make it out to celebrate proper with us!! **Heart** because it won't understand the emoticon for some reason [fuck you Blogger]*

Monday, October 10, 2011

Also: exciting literary news!!!

A spooky young adult's magazine wants to publish one of my stories!!!!!!!!!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

More concrete details are to come, but the magazine specializes in printing spooky stories for clever youths, with a penchant for Edward Gorey/Addams Family humor. And just grazing through some of the stuff they've published thus far, it's pretty fucking hardcore. I'm very proud that they enjoyed my stuff, and I can't wait to see how it goes.

YOU, my dear reader, are free to check out the story they're going to publish right here, before anyone else does, through this little blog.

I couldn't think of what to call it at the time, so I went with the character names. But, I sent it to them as Orphanage. It's about two young orphaned girls, one a bit Wednesday Addams-y, the other just a bit shy and quiet, and their friendship through all things macabre and unusual. I actually really adore them. It's not often I write things that can be described as 'cute,' but I'm proud of those girls.


So check it out!

Bats set listies 100911

Long story short, technical difficulties are bunk.

Alas, they come with the territory; just gotta know how to take a punch when you have to, right? It's all in the recovery. Shit definitely got real there, for a second.

But! Things were corrected before the first set's end, and the second one was pretty rockin'. I even got to bust out an encore. :)

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Bats
The Box - Santa Cruz (industrial/noise/ebm/gothy/punky/post-punk/anything that wears predominantly black)



I

Black Room

Bind, Torture, Kill - Suicide Commando
Without Emotions - Combichrist
Spill - Demodulate
Bass and Percussion - [x]-Rx
Going Nowhere - Access Zero
Never Ending - Imperative Reaction
*hooray! everything clears up!*
Land of Milk and Honey - Funker Vogt



II

Black Room

Angel - Massive Attack
Torture - KMFDM
Evil Playground - Front Line Assembly
Victim - FGFC820
Spill - Demodulate (redux, because that song fucking deserved better recognition)
Sleep Now (Angelspit remix) - Angelmotherfuckingspit
Chop You - Demodulate (encore by request)



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Thank you again so much everyone. It really means a lot to see y'all pop up and give props, in lieu of things going awry.

But we got this, boo. We got this.

'til next time, friend-os.

Monday, October 3, 2011

Bats set listies 100211

Goddamn guys, gotta tell you: I really do love me some October.

Truly is the most wonderful time of the year, and not just because it gives me an excuse to try to incorporate even more death rock/horror movie soundtrack references into my playlists.

:)

Mischief is abound.

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Bats
The Box - Santa Cruz (industrial/noise/ebm/gothy/punky/post-punk/anything that wears predominantly black)



I

White Room

Transmission - Joy Division
Dead and Buried - Alien Sex Fiend
Garbage Man - The Cramps
Chainsaw - Skinny Puppy
Days of Swine and Roses (KMFDM mix) - Thrill Kill Kult
Half Asleep - Apoptygma Berzerk
So Alive - Love and Rockets
True Faith - New Order
Master and Servant - Depeche Mode
Goodbye Horses - Q Lazzarus (teehee!)



II

Black Room

American Porn Song - 16 Volt
I Feel Loved - Depeche Mode (request [kinda])
No Frequency (Imperative Reaction mix) - Terrorfakt
Never Ending - Imperative Reaction
Smack My Bitch Up - Prodigy
Surge of Power - Noisecontrollers (request)
Sleep Now (Angelspit mix) - Angelfuckingspit



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Thanks again, guys. 'til next time!

Monday, September 26, 2011

Bats set listies 092511

Well, well, welly-well-well..

Hey guys, I'm a resident DJ at The Box now! Exciting!

Last night was pretty rockin', aside from some technical mess-ups earlier on in the night. Unfortunately, Morrissey/The Smiths sounded a bit iffy (those poor buttery-smooth vocals...), but everything was cool thereafter.

Thanks again to the whole Box crew for supporting me and believing I got what it takes to rep them. I wanna do 'em proud, and I wanna make you guys, the audience, happy.

Here we gooooo!

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Bats
The Box - Santa Cruz (industrial/noise/ebm/gothy/punky/post-punk/anything that wears predominantly black)



I

White Room

Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others - The Smiths
*readjust things in the booth, played a Siouxsie disc with a song I wasn't too familiar; was cut abruptly short, but we all managed to recover nicely*
Never Let Me Down Again - Depeche Mode
Hong Kong Garden - Siouxsie and the Banshees
From Her to Eternity - Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds
Here Comes the Rain Again - Eurythmics
Jumping Someone Else's Train - The Cure
The Hanging Garden - AFI (Cure cover)
The Witch - The Cult
Super Heathen Child - Grinderman
Only - NIN


II

Black Room

A Familiar Taste - Trent Reznor/Atticus Ross
Worlock - Skinny Puppy
Psychosomatic - Front Line Assembly
Automatic Love - Die Form
Courtship Dating - Crystal Castles
Chop You - Demodulate
Fuck the System (Fukkk Offf remix) - Cyberpunkers (special request)
Ditch the Rest (Angelspit mix) - Angelspit
No Frequency (Imperative Reaction remix) - Terrorfakt


III

Black Room

My Violent Heart (remix) - NIN
American Porn Song - 16volt
Hit Me Hard - Noisuf-X
Bass and Percussion - [x]-Rx
Victim - FGFC820
I Feel Loved - Depeche Mode



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'til next week, friends.

Monday, August 22, 2011

Bats set listies 082111

Well, I was going work on wrapping up Pulp/Noir this weekend, but as it turns out I got recruited to spin tonight.

And it was awesome.

Thank you so much to everyone who helped out, and everyone who came and shook it. They were both great sets thanks to you all. Really.

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Bats
The Box - Santa Cruz (industrial/noise/ebm/gothy/punky/post-punk/anything that wears predominantly black)

ALL IN ONE ROOM TONIGHT! MADNESS!!



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True Faith - New Order
Never Let Me Down Again - Depeche Mode
Lust - KMFDM
Chainsaw - Skinny Puppy
Join In the Chant (Burn!) - Nitzer Ebb
Virus (Aggro mix) - Front Line Assembly
Push It - Garbage



II

My Violent Heart (remix) - NIN
Chop You - Demodulate
100% - Angel(fucking)spit
Fuck the System (Fukkk Offf remix) - Cyberpunkers
You Bet Right - The Strand
Dead Stars - Covenant (request)
Souls at Zero (Sven Väth remix) - Zombie Nation


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<3

Monday, August 1, 2011

Bats set listies 073111

Good evening, everyone.

I've decided I'm gonna start cross-posting my set lists to this fun little device, as well, just for good measure. I hope it inspires you to want to watch the videos on YouTube, if anything. And thank you to everyone who boogied, and helped me out.

<3

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Bats
The Box - Santa Cruz (industrial/noise/ebm/gothy/punky/post-punk/anything that wears predominantly black)

I

White Room

How Soon Is Now - The Smiths
Blasphemous Rumours - Depeche Mode
Shout - Tears For Fears
Blue Monday - New Order
Vogue - KMFDM
Chainsaw - Skinny Puppy
Head Like a Hole - NIN
Zero - Smashing Pumpkins



II

Black Room

Hit Me Hard - Noisuf-X
Courtship Dating - Crystal Castles
Automatic Love - Die Form
*10 second silence. ouch.*
Sleep Now (Angelspit mix) - Angel(fucking)spit
Surge of Power - Noisecontrollers
Fuck the System (Fukkk Offf Remix) - Cyberpunkers
This Shit Will Fuck You Up - Combichrist (request)
Smack my Bitch Up - Prodigy

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Spla-dow.

Saturday, July 23, 2011

Mayra Milk/Ivy Martin (pt. 1)

This one's a bit friendlier than my other ones, in the way it's supposed to be directed to clever adolescents. I'm working on it having Edward Gorey/Addams Family humor. This is only the first half--the second half will get significantly spookier. This is just a cute little bit of an introduction, I guess.

Also it doesn't have a proper title, yet, so we're just going by who the main characters are, for now.

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It was another waning autumn afternoon for the residents at Pleasant Valley's All Girl Orphanage.

They all sat waiting for their final lesson of the day to end, some staring harder at the clock than others. The class' earlier assignment: draw, in as best detail as they could, something that truly brought them happiness, at the end of the day. A person, a place, an object--the one thing that really made them jubilant inside.

Molly drew a music note, next to a violin.

Amber drew a brown horse--one she'll own some day.

Anna drew a cutesy angel, dimpled cheeks and a complacent smile beneath a winking halo.

And finally, little Mayra Milk in the very back raised hers, beaming proudly: A vicious werewolf with blood dripping from its fangs and with its claws reaching out toward the viewer, snarling.

The rest of the class stared back in silence at her, some with disapproving scowls on their faces.

Mayra felt it was one of her greatest artistic achievements, yet.

...

Mayra Milk was NOT like any of the other girls in the orphanage.

Pale pallid skin was topped with a black bob of a haircut on such a scrawny little thing, with large, dark eyes peering out at you. She seemed almost too comfortable in the school's rigid knee-length skirt, white button-up blouse, black blazer uniform, even at such an early age. She was just on the cusp of adolescence, age 12.5; she had arrived at age 6. Her favorite story was Murders in the Rue Morgue by Edgar Allan Poe and her favorite pastime was figuring out ghoulish pranks to pull on her peers. She found frogs, lizards, and small garter snakes in the beds really did the trick. Spiders were for special occasions, like holidays. Or birthdays.

For nearly the past three years, she had made it the habit to sneak out every Friday night, in the earliest hours of the morning, to visit the supposedly haunted cemetery some two blocks down the road. She crafted a dummy to take her place during these missions, having learned a technique after reading an article on the 1962 escape from Alcatraz. Some nights, she would stay out for hours watching the moon grow brighter and brighter, until the shades of the sky began to turn light.

Most of, if not all, the other girls kept their distance from her; even some of the teachers kept her at an arm's length. She didn't mind, too much. She liked playing around in her own mind, though she did often wish for someone else to play with.

Soon enough, a visitor would arrive, and Mayra wouldn't have to face her wondrous adventures alone, anymore.

...

Ivy Martin was one of the prettiest girls to walk the planet.

She was kind and sweet and shy, with lush green eyes to match her name beneath straight, sandy blonde hair. 11--almost 12, as she'd make sure to point out. She was sad, though. Both her parents died after their car was caught on train tracks at just the wrong moment, a couple months prior. Her time since then had been filled with paperwork and bureaucrats, and arguments between unstable distant relatives and staunch courtroom officials. At the end of the day, she would sullenly crawl back into whatever bed the state had issued her then, thinking of her parents, but also trying to create fantastical distractions to send her off to something closer of a peaceful slumber.

One crisp autumn afternoon, she was assigned to the Pleasant Valley's All Girl Orphanage.

She watched the trees passing over the car as they drove to it, and the vibrant colors of their dying leaves blurring together.

Ivy always liked autumn.

...

'Welcome to Pleasant Valley, Ivy. I'm your headmistress, Ms. Primrose.'

Ivy smiled sweetly and shook her hand. Ms. Primrose smiled at her warmly; she wasn't older than 35, with dark, lush hair pulled back from her face into a bun, and grey piercing eyes. She wore a crisp white blouse over a black pencil skirt. Ivy thought she was very clean and pretty.

They'd all just finished wrapping up a very adult meeting in Ms. Primrose's office, not more than half an hour or so long, and the two state officials had already stalked off back to the car, leaving Ivy to the care of the orphanage. She didn't mind; she never really liked them, anyway.

'You'll be staying in the western section of our building, with the rest of the 12 to 18-year-olds. Our school is divided into two main sections: our eastern block is for infants to young adolescents, just beneath your age, and the western block is for the older girls. Seeing as how you're practically 12, we decided to place you a few months ahead in the western block. They've mostly grown into teenagers, though there is one girl about your age I think you may get on with...'

Ms. Primrose smiled to herself, quietly.

'She may take a bit of working up to, though, before you get too close.'

Ivy noticed how gracefully she walked through the hallways, and the air of respect around her. She took long strides that caused Ivy to have to walk at a bit more of a brisk pace than she'd been used to. She almost accidentally bumped into a couple of girls along the way. They were all staring at her. Fresh meat.

'And...here we are!'

Ms. Primrose pushed open the white door number 138 to a spaced out flat of a room, 6 beds adjacent to each other creating the bulk of the room, and large windows throughout; one skylight filtering dusty sunlight into the center of it. Some of the girls had pictures on their individualized message boards, along with sentimental knick-knacks tacked to it here and there. A good amount of pink was abound. It stopped near the back, next to the corner window, where Mayra Milk's message board was empty except for one item: an old faded out photograph of a cloaked figure with an animal's skull--possibly a canine--for a face, in front of a marble crucifix.

Mayra Milk sat upright in her bed, her back resting against the headboard, reading a comic book. She was the only other person in the room

'Mayra Milk, meet our newest addition, Ivy Martin. Ivy, Mayra.'

She stopped to look up from her comic, and studied Ivy for a moment. Cautiously, she reached out a hand. Ivy also stared back at Mayra, uncertain about this girl before her, and reached out an equally-as-timid hand. They gave the other a quick shake. Ms. Primrose smiled again.

'Well. I think I should leave you two to chat. If there's any trouble, please feel free to come find me, Ivy. There are two open beds, one next to Mayra and the other down here, near the door; you're free to decide which you'd like. Again, welcome to Pleasant Valley, and Mayra..?'

She paused, and Mayra looked up at her.

'Play nice with this one, hm?'

She gave the girls a nod, before making her exit.

.

The girls were silent. Ivy started sorting through her little belongings--whatever she stuffed into her suitcase and the few accessories she carried by hand (a purse her mother gave her, her camera in its carrying case, and a sweater her father got her)--on the bed next to Mayra's. She was on the other side, but still facing the curious little stick figure of a girl. Mayra surveyed her a bit more, but eventually started reading her comic again. Ivy peeked over at her, behind her suitcase.

'What are you reading?' she cautiously asked.

'Scary comics. Ghoulish Tales. This one's about voodoo rituals down in New Orleans.'

There was a beat, and then Ivy replied:

'I liked the one about urban legends.'

The girls looked at each other and smiled.

Before Ivy could ask her how that particular issue was going, and know even more about her new friend, a gaggle of girls came in through the door and interrupted her before a word could get out.

'Hi,' said the waifish blonde in the forefront. 'We heard you're new. You look really cool. I'm Ashley. Come hang out with us!'

Ivy tried to protest and wanted to convey she was speaking with Mayra, but this was ignored as the girls swarmed around her and swooped her outside. Ivy was polite and smiled, and enjoyed the newfound attention. Mayra sat back in her bed, thinking for a moment, but eventually resumed her silent reading.

...

Over the next few weeks, Ivy took a liking to both her coursework and being around Ashley and the other girls who first swooped her up and adorned her with attention and compliments. She was excelling in her classes, while they liked Ivy and how pretty she was, teaching her fun tricks with hair and make-up, and nail polish. She didn't mind laughing with them, though she didn't often pay too close attention to whatever it was they were talking about. She was usually off in her own imagination whenever they'd start speaking about boys or whatever clothes they thought were cutest, only chiming in with a cheerful 'Uh huh!' whenever they'd ask for her agreeance on something. If anything, they were a welcome distraction from the thoughts that had been occupying her head for those past few months.

She ended up taking the bed closer to the door, since that was the side of the room all the other girls slept on. Often, while they all played with make-up, Mayra would be sitting complacently in her bed with her headphones on and something loud playing, reading a comic or anything else in print. Ivy would look over at her sometimes to catch a glimpse of her, at just the right second, making a funny face at the other girls joking together.

She still wanted to talk to Mayra about Ghoulish Tales, though, and perhaps become friendlier with the interesting girl.

She tried to bring her up with the other girls, once, and asked about her, but she was met with rolled eyes and non-answers as a response. One girl did utter something about her being a witch, at some point. It left an impression on Ivy. She became disheartened with her new friends.

She asked if any of them had read Ghoulish Tales, and when they stared at her like she was crazy, gave up.

.

One day, Ivy found Mayra out in the field at the edge of the property, searching around for lizards and snakes.

Mayra was a bit wary of Ivy, having seen her take an immediate liking to Ashley and all those other girls' attention, but also knew that Ivy wasn't inherently like any of them, either. Whenever she'd take breaks from doodling monsters and ghosts in her notebook during class, she'd look over and Ivy was always paying close attention, always taking deeper interest in the curriculum than Ashley and the rest. She asked her to hold her snakes while they searched around for more, as a test. Ivy didn't mind, she enjoyed watching them coil their tiny bodies around her hands and wrists.

They smiled and laughed, and spoke of horrible things the whole time. They arranged to share whatever scary comics they get their hands on, as well as search out the most haunted buildings in the area and try to experience contacting spirits.

Both girls felt this was the beginning of something truly beautiful.

...

Within their first week of being friends, Mayra initiated Ivy into her life through her ritualistic sneaking out to the cemetery, every Friday evening. She shared her secret and technique for crafting a dummy, and they made a pact to visit the graveyard just after midnight. Ivy was a spectator as Mayra lay out certain stones or trinkets to appease the dead, sometimes doing quiet invocations if only to see what would happen. An odd mist would often creep through the greenery. Sometimes, an owl would hoot eerily off in the distance, and a twig would snap here and there. Ivy felt the hair on the back of her neck raise, during a couple instances. She swore she saw shadows dancing out the corner of her eye, but didn't want to focus on it.

As they walked back, Ivy asked where the deep interest in spirits, graves, monsters and spells came from.

They stopped underneath a streetlight and Mayra pulled an old photo from the satchel strapped over her shoulder.

'This is the only photo I have of me...at all. I'm still a baby, here. It's also the only picture I have of my parents.'

Ivy looked down and, in the amber light, saw two beaming middle-aged parents toting an adorable, slightly chubby black-haired baby girl, in front of a lush, green cemetery landscape. A few up-ground mausoleums and granite crosses were in the background, but something truly stood out just off to the side: A tall, black shadow looming not too far from the happy family. The way it was positioned, it almost looked surprised, or caught in the act of leering at the family--stalking them.

'That was taken at the cemetery, our cemetery. There are stories that a monster used to live there, 200 years back. 7-foot-tall, covered in fur, always growling at whoever he passed. They called him Rene. He was so repulsive to the rest of the town, that they quarantined him to the cemetery, and the crypts underground; they said he'd have to feed on the dead for nourishment. They said he murdered a little girl one night and a mob hanged him, and both his and the girl's spirits remain there. They also say you can see his figure swaying from the tree, sometimes.' She paused. 'It's just always stuck with me, I guess..'

Ivy stared back at Mayra, returning the photo. They started walking back again.

'What happened to them--your folks?' Ivy asked.

'Eaten by a pack of hyenas.'

Ivy couldn't tell if she was joking or serious, but didn't bother to ask. It didn't really seem to matter, with Mayra.

As they began walking, Ivy was anxiously toying around with the silver necklace she always wore, one with a little crescent-shaped silver pendant on it, lost in her thoughts which were going a mile-a-minute. Mayra looked over at her.

'Why do you always wear that necklace?'

Ivy paused and looked down at it, and half smiled.

'My mom gave this to me before the accident. It's the last thing she gave me before they...left.'

She looked down sullenly. Mayra paused and stared at her.

'Well, it's really pretty on you.'

Ivy looked up at Mayra and smiled, and thanked her.

They walked back in silence the rest of the way, with only occasional side glances and exchanged quiet smiles shared between them. They made it back unannounced, and unnoticed.

They would continue this tradition weekly, over the next few months, and became the closest of friends (much to the chagrin of Ashley and the others). Mayra and Ivy both felt not so alone, or lost, in their big, lonely worlds whenever they were with each other.

...

.

.

.

(The ending should be posted by Monday, at latest. Probably [hopefully] sooner.)

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Henry Crow (pt. 3)

In the mirror-faced reflection across from him, Henry Crow saw himself sitting next to the right side candelabra, but also six more figures standing behind him. They came closer to the light, and he saw they were the traces of six of his past loves--three men, three women--but they were all so much more gaunt and pale than he'd ever remembered them being. Black rings circled around their dull eyes; they all rasped wispy breaths.

'But they're not dead!' Henry began to exclaim, feeling panicked.

'Mostly not, at least,' Dave explained. 'Look at them; look in their eyes, Henry.'

The flickering candlelight seemed to be burning holes directly into all their pupils.

'These are just the core of the countless men and women you have stolen away from their spouses--wooed the women away from their husbands, their children, their own lovers, and doing the same with the men through trickery; all for your own amusement, your own enjoyment. All for your own selfish pleasure, you stole their lives away. You laughed after having your way with them and turning them away. You smiled as you heard their proclamations for you and only added them as trinkets to your ego, and felt the calm come over you knowing how badly they wanted you to be theirs. Why, Henry?'

'Why, Henry Crow, why?' they all began to chant as a chorus.

They were all writhing towards Henry, in the mirror's reflection, all pawing at him where he sat and cooing his name. It seemed to echo so strangely within the cavern's walls.

'Henry..love us, Henry..'

Henry stared at the mirror as they all began to caress his reflection more, all began to give hungry kisses to him, the movements becoming all the more frantic. Eventually, after a slight blonde man kissed him, blood was drawn from Henry's lips. Their pawing became less sensuous and more like rabid, starving animals, clawing at his clothing as well as his face and ripping at his slicked back hair.

'LOVE US, HENRY!! WHY, HENRY!?!! WHY DON'T YOU LOVE US, WE LOVE YOU!! WHY DON'T YOU LOVE US, HENRY CROW!!?!'

They all began to spit on him and claw at him more, when just as soon as Henry felt he couldn't bear to watch anymore, they all stopped, and silence resumed in the dark, dank dwelling. They were removed from the mirror, and only a cowering, bruised and scratched Henry sat at the table, shielding himself. He sat alone, as he stared back at himself beneath the figure's hood.

He sat alone...but only briefly.

Eventually, after a moment's silence, another Henry Crow came creeping up from behind, giving the original reflected Henry Crow an evil, completely sinister grin. This one had a wild look in his eyes, made only wilder by the flames reflecting off of them. The original Henry knew this was not going to end well. The doppelganger clasped his hands on the original's shoulders.

'I created a bit of a monster with what I've created in you,' Dave mentioned, still looking forward at the mirror-figure before him.

'You can't even appreciate the spray of the sea, or the scent of spring anymore, can you?' the doppelganger seemed to sneer at the original Henry Crow. The double ran his fingers through the sitting Henry's hair, slightly. He looked down, sadly. 'How pathetic.'

He waited a moment before grabbing a thick lock of his mane and slamming his face against the table, his head bouncing back for a moment, causing the candelabras to skip as well.

'PATHETIC!!'

Henry Crow the original lay there, stunned for the time being. He wanted to sit upright, but it was too straining to even imagine moving right then. The double crouched over him, speaking softly into his ear:

'All because of them, isn't it? Always them. Weak.' He shoved Henry Crow's lumped over figure slightly. 'Cry, cry, cry. She thought you ugly. He thought you worthless. Bitch, moan, pisser,' he flippantly concluded, giving another shove to his still-resting skull.

'Perhaps you're a bit hard on yourself,' Dave quietly mentioned. The double shot him a look of something fierce, within the mirror-face. Henry the original began to sit up, looking completely dazed and feeling like utter shit. He ran his fingers through his hair, resting on the spot that stung for a moment, and cracked his neck, before addressing the doppelganger.

'Well, you're just mad because they think you're a faggot.'

The double stared daggers at the original Henry.

'And I am.'

He gave a bit of a laugh before the double roared and charged at him, both grasping at the others' neck and taking occasional swings. The first Henry took a sharp elbow to the face, bleeding out of his nose profusely.

'Take it, motherfucker. Take it! You NEED me. You need me to LIVE--to FUNCTION,' the double shouted. 'TO FUCKING BREATHE!!'

Henry the original was hunched over, catching breaths between spitting away droplets of blood, when the double started lurching toward him. He went to knee Henry in his face, but the adrenaline surging through his body caused him to react on a moment's notice, swinging himself over to the side and grabbing the double from behind. He got a strong choke-hold on him. The double started to struggle, trying to claw at Henry's face behind him, smacking him, anything to attempt to free himself. His breathing became strained.

'I actually don't need you, you rotten little sonofabitch.'

The double's body went limp, and Henry Crow let it collapse to the floor. He took his seat back and breathed for a moment, looking over at his bloody friend still focusing only on the mirror-figure. He looked across at his own reflection, expecting to see a complete mess of a man staring back at him. But there was no bloody nose; no scratches or bruises or cuts on his face. His clothes were clean again. Pale as ever. It was like nothing happened. Confused, he looked over at Dave's mirror. It flashed the image of a tombstone tucked behind some grass. Dave's tombstone. The bear still slept contentedly, the commotion around him completely unacknowledged.

'How I went, Henry?' Dave began, nodding down at the bear, 'Not natural. Someone on high wanted me to go, no questions about it. I was a real bastard when I was alive. That's a bit of the limbo thing: working to achieve the happiness I should be rewarded, but sins of the past restricting me.' He paused. 'I taught you everything you know and then some.. I had to be taken down in one of the most absurd ways possible to really have to see the wrong I did in my life, the destruction within ME I would unleash on others. Even you.'

Henry looked away from the tombstone and stared back at his own pale reflection.

'There's still time for you, Henry Crow. So use it. Be the best man you can possibly be.'

Finally, Dave broke his stare away from his mirror-figure, and the tombstone it reflected, and tiredly turned to his friend.

'Me, I'm a real bastard. You? You're a bit more of a sonofabitch,' Dave concluded.

Henry acknowledged this statement with a gentle nod. Dave smiled and reached over to place a hand on his shoulder.

'Go home, friend. Goodbye Henry.'

...

Henry Crow snapped awake face-down on his dirty linoleum floor.

He was in the same position he had been in when he passed out, and moved only his eyes around for a moment, looking all around to see a trace of Dave, the bear, or anything he just experienced. Nothing. The apartment was as dirty and dingy and empty as he left it.

He pulled himself up and took in a deep breath. He stood there with his hands on his hips, staring all around him, looking down at the mess the turkey sandwich made upon being dropped, and just shook his head a bit. He tossed it out, grabbed a rag and cleaned up the smears on the floor, then took his coat and stepped out again.

He decided to walk to the harbor.

He still looked down at the ground, predominantly, just out of habit, but he also noticed the changing colors in the sky, and how nicely they contrasted with the orange hues of the street lights. He passed over the bridge covering one of the canals, and stopped for a moment, noticing something small and interesting on the ground. He stood over it: the small porcelain figurine of a brown bear. He took it in his hand and stared down at it for a moment, feeling his heart beating, warming. He placed it in his pocket, and looked out at the sky brightening and reflecting off the water, and the sailboats bobbing contentedly. He rested his elbows on the bridge's railings.

Henry Crow welcomed the steely blues of the dawn breaking.

...

.

.

.

END.

Saturday, June 25, 2011

Henry Crow (pt. 2)

...


Henry Crow awoke to a cold, wet slap to the face, realizing he was propped upright on his run-down, sunken couch. He was startled when his gaze fixed upon the crimson figure of Dave sitting next to him, smiling--Dave to a T, but covered in vibrant, candy apple blood--as well as a mid-sized bear sitting contentedly at Dave's side on the ground, licking its paw. He jumped up in his seat a bit and started to squirm around.

'What in the FUCK is this all about?!!' he exclaimed, eyes wild with delirium.

'I've gotta have a talk with you, Henry,' Dave calmly replied. Even his hair was drenched in blood; his black suit was sopping wet, the white undershirt clinging to his form and looking like it was drenched in Kool-Aid. Henry was having a very hard time grasping all of this.

'Am I dead? Did you fucking kill me?'

Dave laughed a bit.

'No, no, I'd never do that! No, I'm here to help steer you from your evil ways to show you the beauty of life and human decency. Help save your immortal soul and what have you. Also, there was acid in that turkey.'

Henry readjusted himself in his seat, slicking his hair back a bit and taking in a deep breath. He went to grab his smokes and came back to Dave, lighting one up.

'Why are you all, red?'

Dave sighed. 'This is ain't shit. I figured it'd be surprising enough seeing me after all this while, so I put in a favor to at least have a bit of form before you saw me. I actually don't mind this shade of red on me..'

'Are you a ghost?' Henry asked.

Dave shrugged his shoulders. 'Something like that. A man stuck between worlds, a soul killed by unnatural means with unfinished business who needs to rectify his bit of the world to at least attain something of an afterlife. Limbo, yup.'

'You were killed by a bear..' he paused and looked down at the bear still licking its paw on the floor, 'being flung through your window. Another driver hit it and sent it soaring toward you. That's not supernatural in the least.'

'Though the evidence is tangible, and it can be explained, I doubt you would call my demise anything close to natural, Henry,' Dave said, raising his eyebrow and leaning in a bit closer toward his wary friend.

Henry looked down a bit and took a slow drag of his smoke in contemplation.

'What's that thing doing here, anyway?' he asked, nudging toward the bear.

'He's dead, too; also in limbo because of the situation.'

Henry took another slow drag off the cigarette.

'So, what do you want with me?'

Dave smiled. 'So glad you asked. Do you know the story of Gabriel Grub? It's a Dickens short.'

Henry exhaled through his nostrils after a bit of thought. 'I think I remember you saying something about it, actually,' he quietly mentioned.

'That's right. A surly gravedigger who's sent to the goblin cave to learn the err of his evil ways, one dark and frozen Christmas Eve...'

Henry gave him a bit of a look.

'Are you ready to go, Gabriel Grub?'

'Where--what?'

'Actually, I guess not one of those questions really matter, hmm?' Dave laughed to himself.

In the blink of an eye, Henry Crow found himself in the darkest, coldest place he'd ever been.

...

Black.

'What..where am I?'

Henry Crow was now sitting in a black cave at an elongated dinner table, two three-pronged candelabras sitting at the opposing sides--the only form of light in the dark, frozen dwelling.

Across from him sat two figures in black cloaks, their only distinguishing features the gaping holes for the faces. But they weren't faces underneath the cloaks. Not even a feature. In place instead were oval mirrors staring blankly back, reflecting himself and Dave sitting at his side. He turned to his sanguine friend.

'What is this?'

Dave paused, never taking his eyes off the figures before them.

'Eventually, Henry Crow, we all have to face ourselves..'

The figures seemed to be studying them intently.

'..and the demons within.'

Henry felt coldness plunge to his very core.

...

.

.

.

(One more, after this.)

Monday, June 20, 2011

Henry Crow (pt. 1)

He wasn't a very nice man.



Henry Crow was not a man known for his blindingly sunny disposition.



He wasn't necessarily the type to make lemonade, when life would hand out lemons, so much as squish them directly into his mouth with a reckless abandon after doing a shot of tequila beforehand, and then subsequently spit on the ground. He wallowed in life's bitterness, at times.



Henry Crow would drift around town after the sun set and the street lights became bright, getting rowdy from bar to bar, breaking the jukebox for not playing his song soon enough on more than one occasion. He was sleazy with the women and sometimes the menfolk too, if his fancy struck him, though more often than not it came to blows of a different kind at the end of the night.



A man with that much bitterness in him has to have had it bore into him right from the start. This was a man who felt life's stinging prick early on. Alcoholic, unattentive parents, countless failed romances, and most recently the death of his closest and only friend, Dave, in a freak accident involving a bear being hurled through a car's windshield. The world made even less sense to him than it had previously, at that point.



Henry Crow was a man who would take whatever he could get. He finds a chilly, near-full beer left alone, he grabs it. He always looked at the ground when he walked, hoping to score a dropped pack of smokes or some other forgotten trinket lying on the streets, undiscerning as to what he may find. He was dirty and grizzled, a slight hunch in his stature and very gaunt; a decent dresser but nothing too flashy, clothes always a bit wrinkled--always a slight bounce in his step. His hair was a thick mess of brown that he'd haphazardly slick back from his face. His brow was dark and thick, and always furrowed into a frown. Even when he laughed, it sounded more like a demonic cackle.



People were always a bit wary around him, though each person expressed it differently. Some react to the fear by staying away, while others would want to poke and pry, seeing what lay underneath the gruff exterior. Often, the latter came with some form of price on the offending party's part.



Henry Crow was a man alone in a dark and dreary world, made darker by his emptiness without Dave and by his own dark mind.



Soon, at least, he'd have one last evening with his oldest, closest friend.



...



Flying bear to the fucking face, he thought to himself as he meandered through the store.



What the fuck?



He stopped in front of the beer, grabbing a cheap 40 for the road. He managed to have a bit on him, magically finding a five dollar bill earlier on, and decided to splurge for the night. He even got his own pack of smokes. He took dull thuds of strides back to his flat. He felt particularly tired that night.



.



Slowly he walked up the stairs and almost collapsed through the door as he unlocked it, gripping the black plastic grocery bag tightly. He flicked on the lights and stared at the pile of papers on his tiny kitchen table, adjacent some three feet to his miniature (and rather unkempt) stove top against the wall. He hadn't swept in a while. It was chilly in there.



He rested the black bag on the table and sifted through the contents: his 40 and a pack of Camels--and something else...? Some prize was still resting in the bag, an error either he or the cashier didn't notice. He peeked in. Deli turkey, roasted, thin-sliced. He took it out of the bag and studied it, smelling it, making sure there wasn't anything particularly foul or grotesque on it. He tested just a nibble, and gave a few minutes before grinning to himself and breaking open the 40, taking a few large gulps and then going over to his dingy fridge. He broke out the bread and mayo and topped it with a bit of mustard.



Henry Crow was a scandalous man.



He put on some Mozart as he bit into his free meal. He almost thought it must've tasted better simply by the fact it was given to him by plain dumb luck. The musical accompaniment made it all the more delectable. He attacked that damn sandwich. This was going to make the work week all the more sweeter, knowing he could have that bit of food to come home to. He had plenty else for his mind to fixate itself on, otherwise.



Dave floated to the front of his mind for an instant, as he was about halfway through his dinner. He paused for a moment to take a sip from the 40, offering a bit in remembrance of his friend. He toasted the air in solidarity, letting out a crisp exhale after a few large swigs of the malt liquor.



Dave would approve of this, he thought to himself.



Dave would've done the same thing, if he found that prize in his bag.



After he swallowed one particular bite about halfway through, he felt a tinny sensation roll over his tongue. His taste became metallic, like he'd had some pennies in his mouth. He coughed a bit, clearing his throat, and went for the bottle again to wash it down. He stood there for a moment, feeling a dizziness starting to come over him as he leaned against a metal chair. He started to notice time seeming to slow down, and a heaviness sinking directly into his skull. He looked down at the seemingly innocent sandwich still in his hand.



Mother..fucker..., he thought, as he started to pass out.



He collapsed face down onto the linoleum floor before him, the sandwich hopping out of his grip and flinging itself all over the ground. He lay there, one arm outstretched, the other tucked beside him; he felt his legs going. His breathing was steady, but still a bit slow. He felt paralyzed--his eyes bugged wide open, stuck in a stare at his tiny, messy excuse of a living room. He couldn't even make a noise.



Without warning, a familiar voice came from above.



'Oh, Henry?'



Henry Crow's eyes rolled as far as they could toward the side and saw what appeared to be the silhouette of his old friend, Dave, blocking out the lamplight and looking down at him, pitifully.



Dave smiled and leaned down, whispering into his ear: 'You get to learn you a lesson tonight, friend.'



His eyes glazed over and everything went black before him, traces of "Rondo Alla Turca" jubilantly wilting away in the distance.



...



.



.



.



(This one's gonna have a lot of dark humor. I'm excited.)

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

'I'm not having this conversation right now.'

She pushed me aside and went to the cupboard to get a mug, preparing her usual afternoon tea.

'There's nothing to discuss. I was just...confused. It was fun, but now it's too heavy.'

I didn't look at her as she was saying it. Partially because I didn't want to believe her, partially because I didn't want to break down in front of her.

'Look at me when I'm talking to you. Please.'

I glanced over at her, feeling the lines creasing over my face, my muscles tensing. We stared for a moment.

'You mean to tell me that nothing that was said, nothing we shared, mattered to you at all?' I asked her.

'Of course it mattered. It's always mattered. Do you think I wouldn't be freaking out right now if it didn't matter to me..?' she trailed off. She started to shake a bit.

I went up to get closer to her, and started stroking her arm. She relaxed a bit, enough to let me wrap her up in my arms; she breathed onto my neck, nuzzling into it for a moment. I didn't want anything else, at that moment. I started to run my fingers through her hair, when she realized what was happening and broke away from me.

'NO! Go. You have to go now.'

'Baby, please, I'm just--'

'NO! I can't do this right now, goddamnit! Back the fuck off!'

'Wait, I--'

'FUCK IT!' she cried out as she swung an open palm to my face.

She got me so hard I bled out the corner of my mouth. I placed my hand to the blood and looked down at it, then back at her, astonished. I stared at her, my eyes opened wide. She was rubbing her hand gingerly as she stared back in horror.

'I didn't..I'm...babe--'

'Fuck this,' I said quietly, turning on my heel, grabbing my jacket and making a mad dash for the door as she reached after me, repeating my name. I let my fingers slip through hers as I reached the front porch, and she stayed behind the screen door and watched me as I jumped into my car and took off, hiding the tears in my eyes.

...

Little lumps of snow started falling from the sky as I drove towards the mountains. They seemed to be the only movement; there just seemed to be stillness all around me. I had pulled over to one of the parks I frequent to calm myself and clear my thoughts. This spot in particular had sentimental value: we had some of our closest moments here. I could almost hear the laughter echoing amongst the floating snowflakes; I could almost retrace the footsteps underneath the white blanket taking form. My memories began to wash themselves all over me at once, when I regained focus long enough to reach up to touch the dried blood at my mouth's corner.

I don't quite know what I'm doing here..., I thought to myself.

I felt the tears welt up in my eyes again and let them drop to the ground, joining in with the rest of the frost and cold. It felt like being punched to your very core, whatever that feeling is. I bent over and placed my hands on my knees, trying to breathe steadily and catch myself. Trying to not collapse from all the memories rushing back to me all at once. I took in a deep breath and walked a bit further. I didn't want to go back to my house any time soon.

I wanted to feel the cold biting at me.

.

As I got further away from the main road, and more into the woods, I noticed small roots and twigs along the sides of the path protruding through the snow in sort of an odd manner. One could almost imagine them being bony fingers reaching through the soil, desperate to grasp a hold of you.

I walked further through the woods for what seemed like hours, the evergreens still full and blocking out whatever light was available. The dusk was fast approaching, though I didn't mind. I was nearing the end of the path, just around the residential areas of scattered cabins full of creature comforts, my body feeling entirely numb. I watched my breath steaming out of me with every passing step, occasionally staring down at the twisted roots around me. My mind was so off in its own space that I didn't even pay attention to the scenery changing around me--how I broke out of the canopy for an instant and happened upon an open field in the distance just ahead. I pressed forward, noticing a solitary dead Oak tree in the middle of it. As I came closer, it became apparent to me that this Oak tree was shielding a lonesome grave site, some sort of decrepit family plot. Something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye, on the ground.

As I came closer, I noticed someone had laid out a design in front of the plot, underneath the tree's barren branches, clearing out the snow just for it, especially. They used some sort of corn meal or powder to draw the shape of a large, perfect circle, a cross placed in its center and dividing it into four. In the center of each piece, a copper penny was placed heads-up. I stared for a moment, then started to investigate the plot.

An odd red moss covered the few scattered headstones in the decent sized enclosure, a type of moss I'd never seen in the area before; even odder, the snow didn't seem to stick on nor around them. I traced my memory back to my youth, as I'd remembered hearing tales of a hidden witch's grave built some hundreds of years back, and how the children used to frequent it every Halloween in hopes of a good scare. Some of the ones I spoke with said they'd never go back.

The snow continued to fall steadily around me, a gust of wind occasionally blowing past. Though there were no visible leaves on the ground, I could swear I heard the rustling of someone approaching me while I was hunched over, trying to decipher the barely-legible names on the stones, trying to note the designs etched into them. For an instant, I thought I heard a woman's laugh, but thought nothing of it. Then, another--two this time--seemed to be getting closer. I stood up and whirled around, already a bit on end. Nothing. Just my imagination, it seemed.

I bent back down to read the dates. 1787. 1787. 1787.

Why did they all die the same year?

I heard the laughter again, this time alarmingly closer, and spun around. To my utter surprise, two women were standing just outside of the grave's fence, smiling at me and holding arms together. There seemed to be a hunger in their eyes.

'Good evening,' the dark haired one smiled.

'What does this beautiful creature bring on such a biting winter's night?' the red haired one inquired.

Their clothes were tattered and grey, dirty corsets over ripped, flowing gowns. Their skin was pallid, blue and grey veins protruding from their nimble arms, while their eyes appeared to be a striking shade of green.

'Who are you?' I asked.

They looked at each other and laughed a bit to themselves, coming through the fence and closer to me.

'I don't think that should be your concern, kind friend...' the dark one said, circling around me, eyes roving up and down.

'You see, we know who you are,' said the red one, playing with the buttons on my jacket, 'and we have waited for so, so long. The cold is just so unbearable, wouldn't you say?' She stopped to reach up to my mouth, where I was bleeding earlier.

'We will need that,' she smiled to herself, her green eyes seeming to flash excitedly.

Though my heart was racing, I felt in a trance being around these women. I knew I should run, that I should push them away, but my legs were left completely immobile. It was as though the twigs and roots were coming out of the ground and grasping onto me, refusing to let me go. I stared at them cautiously.

'What do you want?'

'You will find out soon enough, pet,' said the dark one, giving a bit of a curtsy as she rejoined the red one in front of me. I stood frozen in place as they started to dance around me in a circle, never breaking eye contact with me whenever they came to my front. They kept chanting unintelligible things, the only word I could recognize was 'fourth.' They stood at my back as I was unable to turn around, slowly raising their voices as they repeated the guttural invocations. As it became almost unbearable, they stopped and came to my front.

The red haired one held a large snake.

The black haired one held a large dagger.

'Our fourth is arrived,' the red one said, almost licking her teeth eagerly.

They began to stalk forward towards me. I wanted to move, I was screaming inside my head for my legs to break whatever this spell was and to sprint as far away from these women as I could, but there was nothing I could do. I stood there wide eyed and speechless, bracing myself for whatever torture was about to occur. As they got not more than a few feet from me, I felt another presence come up from behind me.

'Stop,' a stern woman's commanded.

The other two women froze and looked behind me, their excitement immediately drained from their expressions. They took a few steps back and stared as a stringy blonde figure dressed exactly as they were came around my back. Though the features and dress were similar, her expressions weren't as fierce as the others. She stared at me quizzically and gave a bit of a smile after some thought. She looked back at the other two.

'What are you doing?'

'That is the fourth. We called for it and they have arrived. After this, we will be unstoppable!' the black one roared.

'Revenge is oursssssss!' hissed the red.

The blonde one let her eyes study me, a pitying expression coming over her face. She came up to me and stroked my cheek.

'No. No...this one is too pure. Too pure to be our fourth. Another mistaken identity,' she decided, flippantly.

The other two looked disheartened and completely disappointed upon hearing this. She came close to me and stared deeply into my eyes. I almost got lost in how vibrant a green hers were.

'You're free to go, innocence. Never come back here again.'

She went to wrap her arms around my neck, and gave a nudge into my ear. She began to whisper to me.

'As far as your lover goes, allow her the distance. And if that's not enough consolation, I still love you, my darling.' She looked at me for a moment before kissing my lips, her own as cold as the snow and air around us. I felt a chill run through my entire body and deep into my chest as it ended. She smiled at me once more before stepping back and disappearing into the night. The other two stared for a few seconds more and looked disgusted with me before fading away like the first. Everything was as still as I arrived. The sensation regained in my legs, I made leaps and bounds back to my car all the way back at the front of the forest.

...

About an hour later, completely out of breath and still a bit shakey, I made it back to my car. I stopped at the trunk to catch my breath, hunched over and coughing, the numb air stinging my lungs. I stopped to stare up at the full moon for a moment in an attempt to truly recount what just went on. I couldn't decide if it was real, and maybe I didn't want to, as I wiped my brow and made my way to the driver's side.

I got in and slowly put the keys in the ignition, trying to steady myself. I heaved a heavy sigh, and started the car up, flipping the heat up to the highest setting, waiting for the windows to defrost. Everything was blurred like an impressionist painting from within the car, the frost melting into droplets rapidly. Finally, after a few minutes they had melted enough for me to engage the wipers. As they swept away the sleet on the window, I was shocked upon seeing the dead vulture curled up some 10 feet in front of me...one wing precariously reaching upward toward the sky, almost specifically posed in that manner. I gasped and peeled out onto the main road.

I can't say for certain, but I almost swear I heard laughter as I drove away.

...

.

.

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Friday, May 13, 2011

Friday the 13th edition

I've been working on another short story for the past week or so, and I wrapped it up earlier today. I like it, I hope you do, too.

(Though I'm probably going to work on fleshing out the ending. Damn those endings!)

...

Busted, bloody knuckles.

I always have busted, bloody knuckles.

Little rubies, little rivers of lava embedded with small flesh platelets. They only hurt when I touch them on certain spots, at least. Otherwise, it feels like a badge; a reminder of protection.

...

I went to visit my grandparents' grave site, as I do every Sunday. I find cemeteries to be peaceful places as a whole, and frequent them often to clear my thoughts and be still for a moment. Theirs is my favorite, both for sentimental and aesthetic value.

The gravel road gives way to fine dirt, a few precocious pebbles scattered throughout. Small grassy mounds give way to vast, rolling hills of the dead. For the dead. A variety of wooden, rotting crosses, some barely together still, paired next to areas of awful beauty; a marbled Christ resting his weary head upon the cross, and a stained Mary weeping at chiseled feet. Standard headstones broken in half, one only reading 'MY MOTHER,' rest next to grandiose mausoleums in the privy lots for the privy few. A beautiful ivory woman sits contemplatively atop a checker-topped sarcophagus in a flowing dress, hand resting on her chin, staring down at the pattern before her.

The day was dark, and the wind was strong. It howled through the passageways throughout the cemetery as I clung onto my overcoat, trying to keep warm. It was menacing, that Sunday. It seemed to loom overhead, whatever the impression was, and its presence was felt with every passing step.

Even the statues seemed to gain sensation.

Even the beatific angels seemed to be screaming.

...

I sat down on the grass cross-legged, next to their grave. I lit up a cigarette and took a slow drag--I've managed to cut down and it was my first one in two weeks at the time.

'EVANS'

The name stared back at me. A small anchor designed onto his side, a delicate rose etched onto hers. They didn't live more than three years without each other.

The sky was gray, ominous clouds rolling over me. I heard a slight rumble of thunder in the distance. Rain was on the way, so I made the decision to leave a bit earlier than planned. I kissed a finger and laid it on the stone.

"'Night, guys," I sighed to myself before trudging off.

A heaviness seemed to sink on my chest. I could even feel it resting on my shoulders. Something dark wanted to grasp my attention. I kept walking at a steady pace along the dirt road, feeling the condensation rise in the air, occasional drags off my rapidly dwindling cigarette. A few mist droplets landed near its pointed ember.

Won't be long now, I thought to myself.

A few drags more, and I flicked the end of the smoke a few feet in front of me, and squished it underneath my boot's sole.

The statues almost seemed to have a mind of their own. I passed a display of life and death--a woman dancing with the shrouded figure of a skeleton, forever dipped in a mournful embrace. She seemed weary, and her fingers curled upright uncomfortably, as though she was enormously fatigued by her struggle.

When they gained distance behind me, I swore I could hear a piano tinkling an eerie tango near their plot.

As I walked long, weary strides along the path, some part of the sensation looming throughout the cemetery started to come over me. My thoughts began racing, blurry images in my mind playing with my actual eye sight, things seeming strained in front of me. I felt something crawling inside me, writhing underneath my skin. I felt it creep along my spine, causing my whole body to shudder. I felt my muscles tense up. Suddenly, for no reason, I felt a burning within my very core, and I lashed around, screaming and striking the closest thing to me. My fist hit the delicate features of a granite statue, a man in a cloaked hood standing guard at one of the mausoleums, half his face hidden--only a sullen mouth and stern chin to be seen; a moss-ridden bible in his hands. My hand, now completely dulled with pain and stuck in a tight grip, came back to me. A new, shiny, perfectly straight slit appeared on my thoroughly calloused middle knuckle, while two bright new red dots on the opposing sides stared back at me. Powder from the stone breaking against my skin coated the open wounds. I looked back at the statue.

My blood made perfect little imprints into the slight indentation I made on its gray skin, along the chin. And as I stared at it, the statue seemed to raise its head, as if raising its gaze toward me, its mouth straightening into a tight grimace. I froze, startled.

The statue...shook its head very, very slowly at me. As if it were saying 'No, no, no...

I took a step back, gasping in surprise.

'Time to go. It's time to go,' I decided to myself.

'Noooooo, don't LEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAVVVE usssss!' they rasped.

As the wind picked up, lightning struck nearby, almost lighting one of the dead trees aflame. Indistinct moaning seemed to be rising from nowhere. The heaviness on my shoulders became almost unbearable, and I felt the adrenaline surge through my body as I spun around and ran down the hill, desperate to get back to my car.

There was a deafening choir of groans, cries and howling winds in my sprint back to safety. Dirt and debris kicked up into my eyes, blinding me for an instant and causing me to trip over myself just as I reached the bottom of the hill, the cemetery gates not more than 20 feet in front of me. I landed on my chest and a bit of my face, slightly winded for an instant, but rolled over and hobbled over to my parked car, thankful for the enclosure.

I could still hear them faintly moaning as I took in deep breaths and tried to steady myself, sweat beading all along my brow. I dipped my head into the inside of my shirt to wipe it off, and gave a bit of a chuckle to myself as I reached inside my coat pocket to get my keys and take off out of there, back to the comfort of a steadying drink in the privacy of my home.

They weren't in the pocket I normally place them in.

As I checked the other pockets, it became painfully aware to me that they fell out at some point during my mad dash back to the automobile. I felt my heart sink to the very center of the earth. I had to go back and look for them. The day was only getting bleaker, making the possibility of walking to the nearest establishment null. Even then, it was at least 10 miles up the road. I didn't have a cell phone on me. There was no other way.

Slowly, I stepped outside of my car, and turned to face the cemetery again.

'Cooooommmme baaaaaaaaaaaccccck!' they cried, as eerie laughter followed.

I took a deep breath and adjusted my coat, and strode through the iron gates.

I looked only on the ground, desperate to see something silver and not let the terrifying noises and movements out the corner of my eye throw me off. They seemed to only get louder, having a competition with the roaring wind, chanting and crying from all sides around me.

However, as I began to ascend back up the hill, just at the base of it, one noise in particular seemed to stand out from the rest. A beautiful, soothing, calming voice rose above the cacophony, and said to me a simple, 'Wait..'

I turned to the voice, over to my left, and noticed a placid angel resting underneath a wreath of orange and brown leaves from a dying blackberry bush, weaving themselves above her head and all over the body. Her outstretched wings covered in brown, thorny, veins. Her hand was outstretched toward the heavens contemplatively, and on one of those very vines entwined around her index finger hung my misplaced keys. After a bit of struggling and maneuvering, and a few more cuts on my hands, I retrieved them and stared at the angel for a moment.

She raised her blank eyes to the sky, and commanded me to go.

A booming groan went off behind me, breaking my fascination, and I darted past the gates and back into my car.

I switched on the lights, started the engine, and peeled off onto the gravel entryway. I smoked a cigarette when I reached the freeway. Even the clouds let up when I reached the main road.

.

I do still visit every Sunday, to this day.

But only when the weather's good.

...

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Monday, May 9, 2011

Short story

Good evening, everyone.

It's been a long time (since I rock 'n rolled [hwwaaahhh]).

To summarize: I've been working on collaborating with numerous creative people around here from many different schools of art; painters, photographers, fellow writers and an amazing, amazing musician. The last one and I have traded artistic efforts--him with a track he's been working on, me with this short story I'ma hit you with in a second, here.

I have a theory that something beautiful can come out of these scary stories I've been working on. Even if they don't manifest into songs right off the bat, I think they're compelling enough to entertain you even as just a story.

So.

Here we go!

...

I dreamt of crows that morning.

.

I had come back because I needed a break--my relationship was in shambles, my bills overflowing, my occupation uncertain. Home was never where my heart is, but it was at least nice to breathe new air for a few days.

I decided to go for an early morning jog. Help clear the thoughts, and get the blood flowing.

Generally, when I'd come back, I'd stick to only a few roadside paths to do my routine on. It's a very rural area, you see, so there are no proper sidewalks--and all the good ol' boys revving their engines and hootin' and hollerin' at the unsuspecting pedestrians can make the trek back and forth all the more treacherous.

That morning, I decided to go the path I'd barely crossed before, in my years living there.

.

It was a crisp morning. Overcast, with an eerie mist filling every crevice in the valley. Not a bird sang, nor a frog croaked, nor a cricket chirped. Frost clung to the leafless limbs of distorted Oak trees adjacent to the road, twigs twisted and turned upright as if recoiling from something dreadful.

I went to the East. Past the dilapidated farms, past the spent vineyards, past the quaint country homes with the smoke pluming from the chimneys--the families undoubtedly contented within. I went towards the woods, at the end of the the road where it forks off. I can only describe it as, I felt driven to, that day.

Some of the fields, along the road...some of the fields, with the dead, yellow grass, its open plains rolling like waves in the wind, have their own stories behind them. Local tales of murders, or witches' ceremonies from the days of yore, animal sacrifice and demons. Small town superstition to satiate the locals, I'd always believed.

I took in sharp breaths and let the chill numb my lungs; I had a lot on my mind that morning. Along one of those very fields, I stopped alongside one of the wire fences to catch myself and think for a moment. I looked down at the murky mud puddle before me, and back at the stranger's reflection staring at me.

'Who are you today, friend? Where are you, even?'

I laughed to myself a bit, all be it rather dishearteningly, and decided it was time to head back.

As I began to turn away from the field, though, something interesting caught the corner of my eye. Something white, in the distance, seemed to be dancing feverishly. I stopped for a moment, and looked back at it. What I saw next, I still cannot properly explain to this day.

At first believing it to be a sheet somehow blown astray, I was astonished to see what appeared to be a skeletal figure--ashen white, with a menacing grin upon its skull, and empty, barren eye sockets--dancing as some sort of display. Frantic movements, but also eerily graceful. It laughed and swirled aimlessly, occasionally ducking down into the brush, only to hop back up and laugh maddeningly, pantomiming with a white shroud it'd occasionally sport as a cloak, or throw jubilantly into the air. Soon, three other skeletons arose from the ground, and joined with the first one--the ringleader--in this odd danse macabre.

They all joined bony digits together and started spinning in a circle, still cackling aloud. They were singing things that were unintelligible to me; their own twisted, foreign language, interrupted only by growls or more sinister laughter. Their speed became more rapid, and just as their ceremony seemed to reach a fevered pitch, they broke apart, all letting out terrified high-pitched shrieks.

A giant crow flew overhead, its massive wings making loud, graceful swoops as it glided over them.

The skeletons raised their hands over their empty eyes, shielding themselves, and as they cowered in fear, they seemed to disappear into the surrounding mist, and back into the grass. Their cries echoing off toward the hills.

.

I stood for a moment, trying to decide if what happened was true, or if it was brought on by a combination of stress and weakened lungs, and lack of oxygen to my brain. Everything was as still as it had been when I arrived, the air just seemed slightly...heavier. I noticed something resting in the distance, some 30 feet from where I stood. My curiosity thoroughly piqued, I decided to investigate.

I came upon two carcasses of two large pigs, the both of them laid out almost as if they were rugs. Their bowels were completely removed, as were every other internal organ, but they were no where to be found. The skin was a bit leathery, but it and the bones were still intact, the heads untouched, and all their limbs were outstretched. As I stared at them, slightly astonished, the crow flew over me once more, letting out a solitary caw before passing. I watched as it flew away, looked down at the pigs and back at the field once more, and made the decision to go back that afternoon.

I walked along the treacherous, lonely road, staring at the angry limbs of the trees reaching out to me.

Home...is a funny thing.

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...


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