Treading Water

I don’t swim. I sink. I have always sunk and because of this I just stay out of the water.

My wife says this is because of my inability to relax. Water doesn’t relax me. I never sit in a hot tub of water and think, ahhhhhhhh.

I may well be related to the Wicked Witch of the West and I am OK with that.

For the next month, work is going to be crazy. Big project is due and overtime is required. Get it done or clean your desk kind of due. With that in mind, I may miss one of the next few posts. If I do, I’m sorry.

I am trying to tread water between work and not work. I feel like I am sinking but I won’t drown without a fight.

Enjoy the story and with any luck, I will have time to write another for next week.

L. E. White

Tested

Marlene and Carrie walked hand in hand. The wind was bitter as it whipped around their legs and blew long wisps of hair out from underneath stocking caps. Cold cut through coats and scarves but their joined hands made each happy to be out.

Carrie peeked over. She was shivering, despite the heavy coat and leggings, but Marlene didn’t seem fazed. Skirt, hose and a short coat made her look beautiful Carrie was guessing that the girl was about to turn blue and freeze. “Why don’t we stop at that coffee shop and warm up?”

Marlene turned a dazzling, but mischievous,  smile on the other woman. “Why don’t we hurry back to your apartment and warm up there?”

***

Hours later, warmer and cozy in her bed, Carrie rested her head on Marlene’s stomach, her long, dark hair spread down her lovers legs like a grass skirt.. “Do you think about moving in here with me so that we don’t have to meet out in the park?”

Marlene shifted her hand back and forth, lightly scratching long red nails across Carrie’s scalp. “I have, but I can’t. I need some serious privacy and my place has it.”

“Of course it does, you live in a basement of a building that should probably be condemned.”

“Watch it making cracks about my building,” Marlene said as she reached forward and tweaked Carrie’s nose.

“I wouldn’t mind giving up my office for your private time if meant you would be here.” Carrie stretched her arm down and began dragging a single finger nail up and down the bottom of Marlene’s foot. A low growl rumbled under Carrie’s head in response to that touch.

“Do you love me?”

Carrie sat up and turned to face Marlene. She marveled at the wild, auburn hair that covered the pillow, framing bright, almost glowing eyes that reminded her of milk caramel’s. “Yes, that is why I keep telling you that.”

“Would you love me no matter what?”

“Yes but that is a scary way to put it.”

“I can be scary, you just haven’t seen it.”

Carrie laid down so that when Marlene turned her head, they were nose to nose on the pillow. “Do you have some kind of murder room like Dexter or something?”

“No, I have never hurt anyone.”

Carrie stared for a while before saying, “Can you tell me what you’re talking about?”

“No, but I can show you next week.”

***

Carrie stood just inside the door in Marlene’s basement apartment. She looked around, trying to see if anything was different from any other time she had been here.

“This way.”

She followed her girlfriend to the bedroom. Marlene walked over to her closet door and opened it. “Go ahead,” She said, motioning through the door. “We are going in.”

Carrie walked in, and when Marlene flipped on the lights, it turned out that they weren’t in a closet, but a hallway. Marlene closed the door and locked it behind them before leading Carrie down the hall.

Carrie had wide eyes as she looked around the little room. Marlene had brought one of her kitchen chairs in and sat it in the corner. Against the far wall, there were chains.

“Are you into bondage? Because that isn’t that scary. I kinda like being tied up.”

“I will remember that but no, I hate being tied up.” Marlene walked to the corner. “Please come here and sit down.”

Carrie did, looking up with doe eyes while Marlene stroked her face and hair. “Promise me you won’t get out of the chair.”

Carrie nodded and then Marlene leaned down and kissed her. Her lips were full of passion and Carrie nearly stood up to keep from breaking contact when Marlene backed away from the chair.

The spunky little red-haired girl walked over to the chains and stripped off her clothes. Carrie admired her and stood up to go over to her.

“You promised not to move.”

Carrie thumped back into the chair, with a frustrated sigh. Her girlfriend was undressing and she wasn’t allowed to help. It seemed very unfair.

Marlene snapped a collar on one of the chains and then put it around her neck. She did that same thing for each of four more until she was bound hand and foot to the wall.

“I thought you didn’t like to be tied up?”

“I don’t, but this is a requirement. Now be quiet.”

Carrie frowned, crossed her arms across her chest and her legs at the knee. She sat staring at Marlene and waiting for the big, scary thing to happen as Marlene put a cloth gag into her own mouth.

After a few minutes, Marlene let out a high-pitched whining noise and crumpled to her knees. Carrie jumped up and started forward but then Marlene jerked and snarled around the gag. Her eyes had turned yellow and the skin on her face looked like it had been shrink-wrapped into place.

The change only took about three minutes, but when it was done, Marlene was gone, replace by a growling beast that looked like a cross between a Mexican hairless dog and a chimpanzee.

She sat, hugging her knees to her chest, sobbing. Carrie watched the monster that came out of her girlfriend lung to the end of the chain over and over again. All it wanted to do was eat her.

She laughed at the gruesome play on words and tried to think of happy times spent together. Hot tea and cake. Soft kisses and gentle touches. Being pinned against the wall and kissed with so much passion that she thought Marlene would bruise her lips.

Each thought transformed, destroyed as the Marlene shifted into this thing and then killed Carrie. Every happy thought ended in blood.

Carrie stood up and pressed her back to the wall. She was far enough out of reach to have walked to the door without being touched, but she couldn’t bring herself to get that close.

***

Light swam into view, the soft glow of the rooms only bulb, as Marlene woke up. The pulsing of bright white around the edges would go away in time, but if she tried to move to soon she would have to clean vomit off of the floor again.

So she just stayed still. Letting the ringing in her ears subside while praying that Carrie had fallen asleep.

After a few minutes, Marlene turned her head, and saw that the chair was empty. While hoping that Carrie had just went to the bathroom or to bed, she was worried that the beautiful girl had fled. This was the third time she had tried to be honest and show the person she loved the monster inside of her.

Please don’t leave me, she thought. Please, please, please.

There was something on the floor between her and the chair. Something small and dark.

Marlene was starting to get control of her limbs again, so she removed the restraints and crawled to see what it was.

Small, with a round bottom and a mushroom like head, Marlene rolled the spent bullet between her thumb and finger. She sat up straighter and looked around the room.

There were four more bullets between her and the door. Five shiny brass casings were lying to the side.

Carrie had stood in the doorway and tried to kill her.

Five times.

Tears rolled down her cheeks, dripping onto her knees, as the weight of another lover rejecting her settled around her shoulders.

With the other two, Marlene had stood up and started cussing them after a few minutes. Carrie was different. She was so sweet and soft. She was so loving and tender. She was gone, and Marlene felt her heart-break as she considered lying in her own, cold bed.

This time, she ignored her clothes and headed to her room. Each step felt like walking against the surf, grief pushing her backward until she dropped to the floor, sobbing the way she had when her mother had died.

Marlene was cold and numb, her foot had fallen asleep where she sat on the floor, but the tears had stopped and now she was going to lie down. She would try to sleep and hope that she couldn’t smell Carrie’s perfume on the pillows.

When the door to her bedroom opened, Marlene was slapped in the face by a metallic smell. It was harsh and rancid in the heat of the room and she darted through the darkness to the other wall.

Marlene pawed around until she found the light switch. She flicked it on, and took a few deep breaths through her mouth before turning to face her bed. When she did, she screamed.

The sixth little brass casing was lying at the foot of the bed.

ick

My two youngest children had the flu last week and in true kindergarten style, they have shared it with me.

I headed to my clinic, being told I look horrible by the lady at the bank, and signed in. When I was called up to fill out new contact paperwork, that woman told me she was sorry to make me stand up. The nurse that started the vitals said she knew how bad I felt.

At this point, I am thinking I must look like a member of the cast for the walking dead. I had been coughing for a day. No fever yet. This is not a good sign.

Then the doctor comes in. A nice lady with a good bedside manner. She looks and me and says, “You don’t look like you feel well.”

It will get worse before it gets better. The anti-viral is supposed to help reduce the length of time a person is sick and to  reduce the severity of the symptoms. Considering that everyone thought I was so bad after a day, that makes me wonder what I will look like in a few.

Brains.

Being sick sucks. It sucks crap through a straw. It sucks more crap than a septic truck. It sucks the suck out of suck.

I hope you are all feeling better than I am. Good luck.

L. E. White – 230 before story

WFM

The coffee was hot and strong, but it was also a little thick. Dillon tried not to frown at as he choked down a large swallow.

“Would you like some cream?”

He looked up at the older blonde with a bit of a spare tire holding up what was probably once a fantastic rack, and nodded. Cream? Dillon drank espresso without adding anything to it and yet, this bitter syrup had to have something or he wouldn’t be able to drink anymore. He added as much cream as he could fit into the cup and tried again. Still horrible, but he nodded and forced a bit of a smile.

His hostess beamed as she sat down on the couch across from his chair. “So, what’s your name?”

“I’m Brad. What’s yours?”

She smiled and Dillon saw the yellowing of teeth that had been chewing on filters for years. “You can call  me Mona.” She patted the cushion on the couch beside of her. “Are you going to join me on this couch or would you prefer I come over to the chair with you?”

Dillon walked over to the couch and sat his cup on the table. Mona gave him a leering grin as she reached over a put her hand on his leg.

“Are you ok Brad?”

Dillon took a shuddering breath and looked from her hand up her arm. He stopped when he reached the cleavage she was displaying, and focused on the wrinkles on her chest. “I’m a little nervous about this. I’ve never done this before.”

“A handsome man your age has never done this before?”

“I mean, I’ve never met someone off of the Internet before.”

She smiled and began to rub Dillon’s thigh. “Well, it doesn’t have to be any different than any other person you have ever met. We can talk and see how things go from there. Or …”

Mona began to move her hands and Dillon tried not to think about how much older than him she was. She pushed him backward on the couch and said, “Do you remember what I said my name was?”, right before she undid his pants.

“Mona.” The word stretched out as Dillon moaned out the long o. Might as well just relax and enjoy it.

She stopped what she was doing for a second. “I never get tired of that.”

“Good.”

“But I’m hungry Dillon.”

“What?” He asked, realizing that she had just used his real name.

Mona was looking up at him, smiling, with a pair of long fangs poking over her bottom lip. “I said I’m hungry.”

Current Writing and Upcoming Schedule

I am so busy I can barely sit down and write. Work is crazy and the major project I am working on is wrapping up. It is getting crazy and everyone is anxious for our group to finish. this means lots of long nights and possibly a few weekends until our software is in place.

As far as writing goes, I am happy to say that I have submitted another story to Siren’s Call Publications. This one is for their serial killer anthology and I am hoping they enjoy it. My title was “The Wild Feast” and now that it is sent out, that is another nine thousand words down.

I am also cleaning up a submission for the “Sword and Mythos” anthology. A collection of fantasy stories that include an element of the dark mythos inspired by H. P. Lovecraft. I love this story and will be anxious to finish it.

Finally, I am preparing for my first public reading. The Bloomington Writers Guild is hosting a public reading at Box Car Books on February 3rd. This is the second in the series and three writers will be reading from their collected works. I will be the first to read and I believe I am going to read the first portion of my now finished novel.

Or, the only polished chapter from my new novel, depending on how you want to look at it.

Feel free to come and listen, we will be there from three to five pm.

Wish me luck, with the way my schedule looks over the next few weeks, I am going need it.

L. E. White

Dentist

I have to say that this is the best jobs I have ever had. It isn’t hard to find food when you are a demon who feeds on pain, but I still can’t help but love this job.

Back in the old days, I worked as a torturer. I went from kingdom to kingdom, serving each new lord with enthusiasm. Those were good days though I bet you can’t imagine all of the things we did. Sure, we would take people and burn them alive or flay the flesh from their bones, but that was only some of it. Most people don’t really understand the true depths that pain can be inflicted to another person. One of my personal favorites was the iron boots. I would lock a person’s feet in an iron boot and then drive wedges between their knees until the bones splintered. It was slow and painful. You didn’t die from it, but the crippling would leave someone in pain for the rest of their lives.

The best part was that I didn’t invent it. People did.

You lot have been teaching me new and clever ways to inflict pain for centuries. Sure, demons live forever, hopping from body to body, but we just don’t have the creative spark that you mortals do. You’re always trying to one up the generation before you, and that is why you have developed so many interesting ways to hurt and kill.

After torture started going away, and while I can still find jobs that let me torture people trust me when I say they just aren’t as plentiful as they used to be, I tried all sorts of things. I spent some time as a serial killer, but that just isn’t as effective. I didn’t have anyone bringing me fresh people and that made it harder to keep myself fed. I also tried the BDSM scene, but if you don’t respect the safe word then people spread stories that you are dangerous and the opportunities fade away unless you move.

I really don’t like moving. After you pack up a few hundred times, a new place just isn’t exciting.

I wasn’t happy  and I wasn’t getting my fill. Years of just not feeling full passed until I stumbled on to this job. A modern way to torture the population and as long as I don’t kill I can eat as much as I want. Heck, every now and then, the population would rise up against a king and if he was over-thrown, his executioner was sure to die.

But now you come to me of your own free will and that is so much better.

So, I am sorry, but it is time for me to go. No more stories today, I have work to do.

Mr. Henderson is scheduled for his root canal and I would hate to keep him waiting.

 

Review: Hotel Transylvania

The wife and I decided that we needed to go out and as always, we wanted to do it on the cheap. For an evening on a cold winter’s night, that meant our options were limited.

The first thing was to find food. This is as much for her sake as her hunger because when I am hungry, I am difficult at best. I love trying new restaurants and something different while she wants flavorful and spicy.

The other thing was an activity, movies are getting ridiculous and everything else is worse. If you can tell me of a better option in Bloomington or Terre Haute Indiana for equal or less than the cost of a theater, please do. I didn’t come up with anything though so our evening was not looking very good.

She remembered a cheap theater. The cheapest we know of, actually, so we ended up setting out on an hour-long drive to Greenwood for the Cinemark Theater. This place is great, ONE DOLLAR matinée’s and two and a half for an evening ticket. The films are not new releases but we don’t care. Even with gas factored in, the cost for us to go to a film there with popcorn is less than the cost of our tickets at any local theater.

So, we head out and as we are driving, she is looking on her phone for something different for dinner. We settled on Yat’s, a Cajun place that is more fast food than restaurant. The food was good and fast. It also filled out the “something different” requirement very well. If you are near Yat’s in Indy or Dat’s in Bloomington you should give it a try, great food with a spicy kick.

Like I said, we went to Cinemark, got in for five dollars and got popcorn and a drink for around eleven. Popcorn and a drink might be a rip off at a theater, but this was still better than just the tickets at any of the local AMC theaters.

Hotel Transylvania turned out to be a great choice. We loved it. I may include some spoilers in this review, so read on with caution.

The movie is a love story, coming of age story and parental coming of age story, all rolled into one kid friendly comedy. The monsters are lovable and I don’t see this scaring any of the children.

One thing that I just didn’t like was the music. Adam Sandler, the voice of Dracula, is not a vocalist that I enjoy. This and the lyrics just didn’t do it for me. There was nothing wrong with it, just not my taste.

The other thing that bothered me was the ending. Dracula faces humans, who he has been preaching are horrible, is accepted, and then faces the sun and the danger of being burnt by it, with very little issue, a whole lot of acceptance, no bulking to the reality of monsters by the humans they are revealed to and a short time line. The movie did such a good job of building to this that I felt a little cheated by it. Again, this isn’t a deal breaker but I wasn’t happy. They could have done better, a lot better.

I will be getting Hotel Transylvania for my kids. The little ones are going to love it, especially the part where Frankenstein sends part of his body over to play a prank on the mummy. Even my wife laughed hysterically at that.

I just won’t be paying a lot of attention to the end.

L. E. White

Get Off My Lawn

“This will teach them.” He muttered as he sat on the bench in his garage; turning the tiny bolts that held the leg in place. It was almost done and his excitement was beginning to make him shake. He was tired of those stupid kids tearing up his yard. He was tired of their stupid parents that kept calling the stupid cops when he yelled at them or chased them away. What happened to his right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness? If he was happier with them leaving him alone he shouldn’t have to try to scare them away with a shotgun. They should respect his rights just as he did theirs. He didn’t do anything to anyone else. He didn’t do anything to their stuff. He respected their rights.

He was tired of being bothered.

He wouldn’t be tired for much longer. As soon as he finished he would be able to etch the symbols on it; the true name of the Jinn that would breathe life into his little steel monster. Once the magic powered it up, the claws, the blades and the razor sharp tail would put an end to their lack of respect.

As he picked up the engraver and giggled. He fought to keep his hands steady as he carved the curves and dots into the plates along its back. He actually had to stop a few times to laugh for a moment. He could see the looks on their faces as his little beast charged at them. It legs clicking on the sidewalk and its claws clinking as it snapped them in anticipation.

As he cut the last swooping arc he felt the metal shiver under his hand.  He stood up and backed away from the bench a step as the scorpions legs began to twitch and tap. The eyes, which were nothing more than two tiny vegetable colanders didn’t glow or anything like that, yet he knew when the Jinn realized he was there and looked at him.

“I have brought you here.” He said. “I carved your true name into this body and granted you admission into this world.”

He waited for some sign of acknowledgement from it; something that would tell him that the spirit understood who its master was. Each leg moved up and down a little before it raised its metal belly up off of the workbench. The tail rose up to arch over its back and each claw flexed once.  He stood waiting on the body’s inhabitant to finish feeling it out. He waited for it to ask him what he wanted it to do. He had built it, he had summoned it, he was its master and all he had to do was to wait for it to realize this. The hollow scorpion he had built to house the Jinn was now filled. He stood smiling down at it while he waited.

He finally stepped closer to look at it. “Did you hear me?” He asked, “I brought you here. I am your master.”

The scorpion’s body was a metal canister with cut up serving plates bolted onto it to make it look a little more real. He had used piped connected by flexible pipe joints to build the legs and an old jewelry box on a short piece of ducting to make the head. The eyes were tiny metal straining colanders he had found at a flea market. The claws were also made of ducting and ended on scissors that had the ducts folded down around the hinge. The tail was a bit of high pressure hydraulic line from a tractor supply store with a butcher knife welded to the end. It was that knife that shot forward and buried itself in his stomach just below the ribs.

He grabbed at the wound when his creation pulled the knife back. Looking at it in shocked disbelief and asked, “Why?”

He only asked once as he slumped to his knees on the floor. That was when the tail shot forward again.

Calvin and Hobbes Comic Strip on GoComics.com

I just don’t like snow enough to enjoy winter. I might have as a child, but now, no, not now. Some days are more like this than others. This morning was so close to how Calvin feels that I had to share.

 

Calvin and Hobbes Comic Strip on GoComics.com.

 

Results came in, sort of …

As I mentioned in my last post, I attempted to write some run on sentences for a submission. I posted three that I did not send for your enjoyment and sent three others into the wilds of the internet in search of acceptance. Two were handed back with rejection firmly tattooed on their we little heads and one was held for further consideration.

At the moment, I am pretty happy to have had one make it to the second round.

The thing is, as I read the rejections that I received, I realized that one of them could have been altered in such a slight way and then the story would have been just so much better. Hindsight is what it is though. I will include the alternate ending here. I just wish I had thought of it before I sent my submission in.

As far as the new year and resolutions go, I am going to keep my list short. One item, that’s it.

I am going to edit my novel to a point where I am satisfied to start sending it to agents.

Lots of work to do so I will leave you with my other two subs.

L. E. White

Hobby – This one didn’t make it because it was to dark. Fair enough. I can see that.

I watched the light fade from your eyes and the color fade from your cheeks as I listened to the sound of your last, ragged, painful, breath before I picked up the stethoscope and put that small, cold surface against your chest so that I could hear the final beat of your black, poisoned, lying, treacherous heart before death claimed you; just like it had claimed you every other time I did this, just like every time I was going to do this, just like I promised when I told you that if you hurt my little girl, I would kill you, bring you back and do it again, because everyone needs a hobby, and since you didn’t listen, since you hurt her after you told me you wouldn’t, I have made your painful end a part of my daily routine.

No Title Idea – This one didn’t make it because the ending was to much of a let down. Re-reading it, I have to agree. I was going for a little humor, but now that I see that I should have went with something more frightening. The second version below is what I wish I would have submitted.

I hid under the blankets, wishing that I had a flashlight in my hands like I would have had as a child, even though it would have been turned off to better hide my presence, as I listened to each individual creak on the stairs, the weight making the wood groan as I imagined the monstrous form that was making its way toward the room, shifting from left to right, attempting as much stealth as the old house would allow, before the sounds stopped, which did not indicate that my visitor had stopped, but rather that the lumbering form had reached the hall and was even now slipping along, listening for any sound that would indicate my present level of wakefulness, before the blanket shifted and the bed sagged under the weight of a quiet interloper who made clear its intentions as I felt cold, clammy limbs wrap  around my torso and pull me to it so that the hot, moist breath on the back of my neck could send goose-bumps racing over my body when my husband settled into bed after the midnight raiding of our refrigerator that broke his diet.

New ending: … my neck could send goose-bumps racing over my body because, while I did love the feeling of someone snuggling into bed with me, the fact was that my husband had been dead for over a year.