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Happy Holidays

December 25, 2013 1 comment

Happy Holidays everyone. It has been almost two years now and I appreciate all of you reading along as I practice writing and try to do a better job of storytelling. Here is hoping you are enjoying yourselves.

I decided to take a crack at the holiday itself with a Krampus tale. So let the season sort it’s self out. Keep warm, be kind and good luck.

L. E. White

Adults

Tammy panted as she ran through the snow, fighting to keep her feet under her ass as icy water squirted between her toes. Her breath shot out in short puffs of steam as years of smoking fought with her need for air.

She darted to the left and slammed her ass against a tree that was too small for such a wide woman to hide behind. She bent forward, resting bright red hands on her knees as she fought to keep from blacking out. Even before she had left school, she had avoided physical labor. She didn’t work, much less work out, and the only cardio she ever did was being on top of whatever guy had bought her a drink.

“I’m tripping. I must be tripping.” She gasped the words out over and over as she held her side in an attempt to relieve the pain from her exertion.

***

The party had sounded fun, and despite having no idea what Krampus was, she had went. Pictures of a devil with one hoof and one foot had been plastered all over one of the county fair buildings.

“I think that’s Krampus,” Craig said, the smell of the beer he had been drinking in the car wafted out around him and it made Tammy’s mouth water thinking about getting one herself. “What the hell kind of fucked up shit is this anyway?” He popped a pill into his mouth, swallowing it without a drink before extending the little bag to her.

One tiny white pill later and they had went in and found out. The place was set up with all sorts of novelties about the Christmas punisher and as they walked around, they heard stories and old legends.

“You having fun?”

Tammy turned around to find a big guy with a bristling beard standing behind her. He looked wild and rough and she smiled, hoping he was flirting. Craig’s eyes were almost rolling in his head where he stood behind her. As stoned as he was, he would be down for anything which meant sharing if the big guy would go for it. She looked him up and down, hoping he would go for it.

Maybe he wouldn’t want to share? He looked like he was in better shape than Craig, so that might be alright too.

“Yeah, this stuff is crazy. What about you?”

“Oh yeah, I love the Krampus stories. That’s why I put this together.”

Tammy smiled and started twisting a strand of her died black hair.  “Oh so this was your idea?”

“Yeah,” the big guy said. “I like the idea that there is more to being on the naughty list than just not receiving a present.”

Tammy twisted her foot. “So you like punishment?”

He grinned at her. “When someone deserves it, yeah.”

She licked her lip before opening her mouth to ask his name. At the same moment, someone yelled and he turned and nodded. “Gotta go, have fun and behave.”

“I don’t want to behave,” Tammy said as she watched him leave.

Craig staggered back over to her from where he had been staring at a poster. “I think there are people having sex in the background of that poster.”

She let him lead her over to it, knowing that he just wanted to rub and not minding the idea. Even if it was only Craig.

Tammy and Craig continued through the place, talking to people, listening to stories and drinking or taking whatever they could get from anyone who would offer it.  After an hour or two, Tammy was thinking it was time to go when Craig grabbed her arm and pulled her off to the side. “I got someone who wants to talk to you.”

They stepped out the side and around the corner of the building. The snow was a little more than ankle deep and she regretted wearing the low boots as soon as she stepped off of the shoveled paths. In the shadows around the corner, a tall, lean man in a black leather coat stood with his arms crossed.

“So, this is her?”

“Yeah,” Craig answered. He turned to Tammy and smiled at her with that look that she knew meant he was about to say something stupid.  “Babe, this is Marty. He has some good shit but won’t share unless we share. You want to do some sharing?”

She looked Marty up and down, stopping on his hand when he held a small bottle of white powder up for her to see it. She smiled and nodded. “Sharing is important after all.”

Marty didn’t say anything. He tossed Craig the bottle and then unzipped his pants.

Craig had taken a huge snort out of the bottle and then handed it to Tammy before walking off and leaving her behind the building to do the sharing. She looked at the remaining powder, decided it was worth it, and then got busy.

Marty was behind her, with her bent over a snow filled trash barrel when Tammy had turned to look beside them and saw some guy walking toward them. Whoever the guy was, he had the Krampus thing down. He was wearing a Santa costume with horns and looked like a giant, walking towards them with a wad of small tree limbs in his hand.

“Wait your turn and then we can talk business,” Marty had said as the Krampus came closer. Tammy felt the dealer grip her cold hips tight as he picked up pace, trying to finish before the costumed monster got to them.

She looked at the newcomer, wondering if he wanted the dealer or her, and watched him lift the bundle of switches into the air.

“Hey man, I …”

The sound of the limbs whacking into Marty was followed by the sudden absence of Marty from behind her. Tammy looked back over her shoulder to see the dealer slam into the transformer behind the building and slump to the ground. Krampus stepped toward him and Tammy hauled her pants back up before darting away into the darkness.

***

The snap of a tree limb from just behind her sent the woman charging blindly out into the night. She ran through the woods that surrounded the fairgrounds until she came to the fence that marked the property line. She crashed into the barb wire and felt the sharp bite of the metal through her coat.

“Fuck!” She pulled back, but the barbs fought to keep her there. Her coat snagged on the wire and when she thrashed to get back, she heard the fabric tear.

She started to curse again as she spun around to head away from the fence, but the words died on her lips as she looked at the figure standing behind her.

“You have been naughty.”

She shivered and her teeth chattered. “I-I-I-I’m an a-a-ad-ult.”

“I don’t care.” He said with a slow, clipped accent. “You are naughty.”

Her jaw trembled as she fought to say, “I can have sex if I want to. I didn’t cheat or anything.”

“No,” he said, stepping closer. She backed up, pressing hard against the fence, feeling the bite of the barbs in her back but not noticing. “I know everything that you have done.”

Tammy swallowed hard, racking her brain. There were so many things that she did every day that she wondered which one did he mean?

“I have seen you raise your hand to your children. I have seen the marks of violence and anger.”

Her face went pale and then red. She remembered slapping her daughter for mouthing off to her. She remembered leaving her son alone in the apartment for a week while she was stoned out of her mind. Indignant anger stepped in for courage and the short, fat woman snarled at the monster before her. “Those are my kids and I’ll raise them however I see fit. You can’t tell me what to do with my fucking kids.”

Krampus moved forward. He stood so close that she could smell the hot, stink of his breath every time the massive chest moved. “I won’t tell you what to do,” he said in a hushed voice. “I will however do as I see fit.”

Her chin trembled as she opened her mouth to protest. Her response died on her lips as she watched the bundle of switches raise up into the air. The hand hesitated for a second, letting the moment stretch out as Tammy found her voice. “Don’t.”

The lash fell and a dozen burning, stinging lines of pain raced over the left side of her body. She slumped, being held up somewhat by the fact that her coat was still tangled in the fence. She watched the bundle rise up again as she heard the deep, rasping voice say, “That is the same word your daughter said before the second punch.”

Tammy closed her eyes and saw her daughter’s face in the darkness. Blood coming out of her nose and tears running down her cheeks. She squeezed her lips together and listened to the switches as they swished through the air towards her.

 

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Categories: Flash Fiction, Horror

Little Book 13

December 18, 2013 1 comment

I hope you enjoy the last installment of this series. I will be going back to a much shorter, one shot format after this. It is time to work on other things, after all.

L. E. White

Little Book 13

Joey squeezed his eyes shut against the blinding sting of the light when the bag was ripped from his head. He had been conscious for a while, working his muscles and shifting back and forth as he tried to find a way out of the ropes that held him to a chair. He thought he felt one of the ropes give, but stopped twisting his hand when he heard a low growl. So, he sat, he waited and he thought about what would happen next.

After a minute, Joey tried blinking. The light had softened and once he adjusted, he looked around. The chair sat in the middle of the warehouse where he met with employees making a drop. A couple of the lights, including the one directly above him, were on but the rest of the building was dark.

As he gazed around, he began to be thankful for the darkness. Shapes ghosted around him, staying out of sight, things that shouldn’t exist.

Two chairs sat across from him. In one sat Claire, looking the same, yet different. There was a raw physical quality to her that Joey had never seen before. Her clothes had not changed, but his eyes were drawn to her soft curves. She was tempting and his mind wandered to all the times he had sent her away instead of exploring the body that she had offered. Demon or not, he wanted her.

Beside her sat an empty wooden chair. It was old, a polished from use by what must have been hundreds of people. As Joey looked back at Claire, he thought of bending her over it and taking her.

She smiled at him and Joey wondered if she were reading his mind.

“No she isn’t,” said a voice from the darkness. Steps clicked on the floor and the old man from the church stepped up between the seat and Claire. “She isn’t, but I am.”

Joey knew his mouth must have been hanging open, but he was too busy trying to piece together what the old man from the church was doing here.

“I am further from being an old man than you are.” He answered.

Joey shook his head and the man chuckled.

“You destroyed the book Joey. Do you know what that means?”

“No.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Claire reached one hand over and scratched her nails up and down his back while the old man smiled at Joey with a brown, rancid smile. “Joey, that book bound us to men like you. It also bound us to the rules of this world.”

Joey snarled one lip up in confusion.

“Joey, Joey, Joey. You set us free. All of us can go out into the world and do whatever we want now. We have been bound to whatever man was willing to make the sacrifice since that foul ledger was created by Solomon himself.”

Joey blinked. “Solomon?”

“The very same.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“We are going to have a lot of fun.” The old man straightened up and Claire put her hand back into her lap. “We are going to feast and dance and play like we haven’t in such a very long time.”

“What about me?”

The old man smiled again and stood, this time, he changed into a small, round faced child with curly brown hair. “I am going to leave you in Claire’s very capable hands. You have refused her all this time, I bet you can’t keep it up now that she is allowed to make the first move.”

Joey swallowed and shifted his gaze to his former assistant. She was chewing her bottom lip, running her fingers up and down the buttons of her blouse.

The child touched his forehead as if he were a bell hop in some old movie before turning to leave. “Have as much fun as you want Claire. You have earned it.”

She rose from the chair in a slow, flowing way that made Joey’s mouth water. “I will,” she said as she stepped towards the bound man.

Joey didn’t watch the boy leave. His eyes were fixed on Claire’s as she approached, and it took a minute before he realized that all the other things in the darkness had left with the old man.

“What are you going to do Claire,” he said with a cracking voice that he hadn’t heard since he had hit puberty.

“Oh Joey, there are so many things we can do.” Claire straddled him, her skirt climbing up her thighs and she settled onto his lap. “You had the chance to force me to do anything you wanted but you didn’t. Unlike every other man who held the book, you didn’t force me to please you.”

She leaned forward, and Joey felt the cold touch of her tongue and Claire licked up the edge of his ear.

“But you are also the only boss who ever had me shot.”

Joey screamed as pain erupted from the side of his face. He thrashed and twisted as pinpricks of burning agony spread across the side of his head. When Claire leaned back, her chin was covered in blood and Joey could see his ear between her teeth. She smiled around the mangled piece of flesh before sucking it into her mouth with a slurp.

“I am going to do everything that I have always wanted to do to a mortal man to you Joey,” Claire said. “Everything you can survive that is. After all, I wouldn’t want you to think I was neglecting my duties as your assistant.”

He thrashed from side to side as she leaned forward. He slammed his head into her face, but it didn’t even make her blink. She leaned up to his other ear and put her lips against it. Joey felt Claire’s hot breath as she whispered. “It’s a good thing I am your assistant. That way I was able to clear your calendar and be sure you had plenty of time to play with me.”

 

 

 

Categories: Flash Fiction, Horror, serial

Little Book 12

December 11, 2013 Leave a comment

Happy Winter Weather to you all.

I hate snow. That’s really all I have to say, I despise this stuff. Be safe and keep warm.

L. E. White

Little Book 12

Claire was standing outside the door to the church. She was leaned against the hand rail with her arms crossed over her chest. Joey stood just inside the threshold, looking at her and thinking of her resemblance to a jack-o-lantern whose candle was fighting for life on a windy evening. Light flickered inside her skull and he wanted to yell for the old priest so that the man could look at Claire and be convinced of the truth.

“Hello Joey.”

“Hello Claire.”

“You ruined the ledger.”

“I did.”

She smiled and moved away from the railing. Joey watched her take a single step before she stretched her arms up. He heard bones pop and crack before she settled her arms back at her sides. “Are you going to come out or not?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I am kind of wondering what will happen if I do?”

“I will not kill you.”

“That leaves a lot of room though.”

Claire smiled and stepped closer. Joey noticed that she seemed different, less stiff and sultrier as she approached. More cleavage, a shorter hem, maybe more of a wiggle in her walk; she was different beside the flames inside her head. “You have nothing to fear from me.”

He nodded and stepped out of the church. She stepped closer, reaching a single finger up to touch his chest before growling. He looked down at her hand, wondering about the change in her behavior, before seeing her bracelet unwind and strike like a snake. The little silver coil had blue fire inside its tiny mouth, and when the spark touched his skin, Joey felt the jolt burn him before the world went black.

Categories: Flash Fiction, serial

Calvin and Hobbes Comic Strip on GoComics.com

December 10, 2013 Leave a comment

Calvin and Hobbes Comic Strip on GoComics.com.

 

I love this. Way to go Calvin’s Dad.

Categories: web comic

Little Book 11

December 4, 2013 Leave a comment

After being able to tell everyone about how great it is to get something published last week, this weeks update sucks in comparison.

I was going to write about it last week, but good news over crappy any day.

So, on the Thursday before Thanksgiving, I was in a head on collision. A truck crossed into my lane and hit my poor little car.

I was lucky, I walked out of it and nobody else was in the vehicle. My car was not lucky, and the picture below will explain why in much better detail.

All I can really say now is that if you want a safe vehicle, go with a KIA. It really earns the safety rating.

Also, I can guarantee that somebody in a story is going to get hit head on by a larger vehicle. It is really, really frightening.

L. E. White

 

photo (2)

 

Little Book 11

“Twelve Hail Mary’s and ten Our Father’s. Please consider seeking help my son.”

Joey stepped out of the confessional with a disgusted look on his face. He had wasted over an hour talking with the old priest but the man thought he was crazy. It had been difficult to convince the man that he didn’t need to go outside despite the screaming, but it had worked. The problem was that despite being a priest, this padre was a non-believer in every other way.

Joey walked to the pews and sat in the front. He sat up straight, placed his hands on his knees and closed his eyes for a moment. Claire and her kind couldn’t come into the church, but he had been able to carry the ledger in. What if he left the little book in the church?

“Someone will find it.”

His eyes flew open and Joey jumped up, reaching for his gun as he turned towards the voice. A few feet away, on the same pew, sat an old man.

Joey froze; his muscles rigid, his gun half way out of the holster. He couldn’t move, not even breath, despite straining as hard as he could.

“You will not draw a weapon in this house,” the little old man said. He didn’t turn to look at Joey. Instead, he sat with his hand on his cane, staring at the windows.

The moment that Joey decided not to draw his weapon the force that held him in place was gone. He almost fell, stumbling to catch his balance when his body tried to finish his attempt to stand. He took two deep breaths to try and calm his nerves before moving back to the bench.

“Coming here was a good idea Joey.”

“How do you know my name?”

The old man did not turn and look at him, but Joey could see the corner of his mouth quirk up in a grin. “Really?”

“No,” Joey said, shaking his own head as he tried to figure out who this was. “It’s just hard to understand.”

“Then don’t try to understand it. Just feel it out and go with your gut. That will make this easier.”

“My gut said to draw my gun.”

“No.” He shook his head when he answered. “You have taught yourself to react like that.”

Joey looked at him for a moment before licking his lips. “Alright, is there a way out of this for me?”

The little old man turned and Joey gasped. Large round eyes the color of pure gold regarded him. “The only way to save your self is to repent.”

“I tried that.”

“No. You confessed but you have no intention of changing your life or your behavior.”

Joey bit his lower lip and looked down at the floor. He ground his teeth together for a few second before lifting his eyes back up.

“No. There isn’t any other way out of this.”

Joey clamped his mouth shut and glared at the guy before sighing and turning so that he could slouch back. “All I ever wanted was to get out of the hole I grew up in.”

“I know but this is only the way to a deeper hole.”

Joey frowned. “What about the book?”

“That is the easy part. Just dip it into holy water and then give it back.”

Joey looked at him and nodded before standing up and drawing the book out of his pocket.

“You never asked me who or what I was.”

“I don’t have to,” Joey said. “If you are here then that is my answer.”

The old man smiled and nodded as Joey turned and walked towards the doors of the church.

“Good bye,” Joey said as he drew the book out of his pocket. He lowered it towards the bowl of holy water. Time seemed to slow down as Joey drew closer. He was sure that he was pushing the book closer, yet it didn’t seem to move. Joey pushed harder, his arm even started shaking, until it felt as if a bubble snapped and his hand shot forward.

“Damn.” Joey jumped and dropped the book. The tiny conglomeration of paper and glue fluttered towards the floor, not giving any indication as to why his fingers had just been numbed by a static shock.

Joey tried picking up the book with a cloth or a pair of pencils. He either got shocked for his efforts or the ledger itself tried to bite him, the covers flapping like the jaws of a small, vicious dog.

Joey stomped down on the book. He felt pin pricks of pain as the book tried to shock him away, but Joey ground his teeth together and reached down to pull the ledger out from under his shoe.

The moment his fingers touched the cover, the shocks increased in intensity. He could feel flashes of pain shoot up his arm, making his arm jerk and heat flash across his chest and he fought to lift it up to the basin.

When his hand was almost over the water, the book changed tactics. His mind was filled with images of prison. Joey couldn’t see the room he was in anymore as he imagined trying to protect himself from a group of men in jail.

He brought his arm down on the edge of the basin and splashed his hand with water. When drops hit the book it screamed like a child and released a flash of power that knocked Joey down and made him drop it into the water as he fell back.

The book sank, the screaming trailed off and Joey rubbed his arm and chest to fight the tingling stabs of pain from the shock. “It’s over,” he said as he turned to look back into the now empty church.

Joey opened the doors of the church, and found Claire waiting outside with her arms crossed.

 

 

Categories: Flash Fiction, Random, serial