Cutter’s Club Part 1

I would like to preface this by saying that cutting is not a good idea. I’m not a cutter myself, I understand that there must be some sort of adrenaline high that comes from it, but it is harmful to the body and should NOT be practiced. If you are a cutter, I beg you to TELL someone.

Now, I would also like to say that this story was a nightmare I had. Now I don’t expect this to become some sort of franchise, my plan here is to introduce a character for a bigger project.

It being a dream, I believe I’ve had some time to kind of hash it out, so here it is:

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Devon Thomas woke up to find himself tied to a metal chair in a white room. Legs were fastened tightly to the chair legs just as his arms were to the chair arms.

He saw no doors, nor windows, but logic told him he had entered somewhere, or rather someone had brought him inside somehow.

This had to be a joke, right? His buddies back at the dorm had to be yanking him, right?

They had gone drinking that Friday night and he knew he had probably, as always drank a little more than he should have. Knowing his friends hated it when he did that, they were probably just trying to scare him so bad that he would never drink again.

“Ha ha, guys,” he said, shifting his weight in the chair, “You got me, come on out and let me go.”

There was no answer. The room was empty. The only thing there  besides the chair was the overhead light, imbedded in the cieling, shining down on him, illuminating the entire, empty, white, so far doorless and windowless room.

He struggled some more in the seat. The straps, or rather strips of duck tape wrapping around him arms, were so tight that he could barely shake them at all from the chair arm. The tape just squeezed tightly; he could feel his hands going numb they were so tight.

His legs were in no better position, only slightly more comfortable having a layer of denim separting the adhesive from his skin.

He turned his head. There had to be something behind him, some door, something to tell him where he was.

He jumped in the chair, turning himself a little at a time before he over did it and landed on the side of his head. Good news was he turned around. Bad news was there was still no door.

Devon started to sweat, not only from the physical exertion of jumping, strapped down the way he was, but also panic. His buddies couldn’t have done this. Where was he? Who did this?

There was a shhh noise coming from the wall he was now staring at. It opened, like a false wall opening up into some secret laboratory from all the old movies he watched.

In came a lovely, dark-haired woman with a man, perhaps her husband, and Devon couldn’t help but feel he knew her. Was she at the bar? Or a girl from class?

“Hello Devon, sweetheart,” she said, “Did you fall down?” She and the man righted him in his chair.

“Um, hi,” said Devon, “Did you guys put me here? I really need to get home, could you let me go?”

“Oh Devon, no,” she said, “You can’t leave yet. We need you and you did agree to this.”

“I what?”

“You signed the contract,” said the man smiling, “And boy were we relieved. We’ve been looking for someone for a while now. Our last one just kind of died after six years, and you wouldn’t believe how hard it is to find someone who will agree to do… what you have graciously agreed to do for us.”

“What?” said Devon, panic seaped through out his body.

“We’re cutters, Devon, but we can’t cut ourselves or each other, due to our jobs and status.” said the woman.

“We need it, Devon,” said the man, putting what could have been a fatherly gesture but given the circumstances…

“And with your signature, you have given us great joy again.”

“No!” Devon finally spoke out, “There’s been some mistake! I was drunk! I don’t remember any of this!”

“Oh Devon,” said the woman sitting on his lap, “There was no mistake.”  She started nibbling on his ear and sticking her tongue inside. He squirmed and screamed.

“Oh,” said the man, “Sorry your screams really get me going. That’s why we didn’t gag you. I bet you were wondering.”

He pulled a broken pair of scissors out of his pocket, silver and sharp, looking more like daggers.

Devon screamed, “Help me! Please, somebody help me!”

“No one can hear you, Devon,” said the woman as she muffled his screams with her tongue, and with a free hand taking one half of the broken scissors.

“But don’t let that stop you,” said the man, “Your screams are really getting me off! mmmmmm, so good!”

The woman slid the dangerous side against Devon’s cheek. It burned, and he could feel the heat rising from his arm as the blood poured out.

The man licked Devon’s gaping wound, while taking the other half and sawing Devon’s arm.

Slish, slash, slish, slash

It hurt. The woman let go of Devon’s mouth and grabbed his bleeding arm, rubbing the blood all in her hair and face.

The couple continued to cut and moan as Devon shrieked, but inside the empty room, no one could hear him scream.

The Adventures of Taylor Swift Part 3

We last left our heroes in the Southern Woods, where the lovely high priestess Taylor Swift fought off the cunning thief Meg Myers and in return uncovered the truth about the Crystal Tones.

We now join our hero in a grody bar where the unthinkable transaction took place.

“Your scribe is very annoying,” said Meg Myers, sipping from her tea cup.

“Once you get used to his spazy nature, he kind of grows on you,” said the ridiculously talented and kind Taylor Swift.

“Is he writing everything we say?”

“Yes,” Taylor sighed, “He’s been charged with writing my ‘hero’s tale’ as it were.”

“Ah yes…” Meg Myers remarked, “The amazing adventures of the high priestess. Oh how we all adore her… prrrrb”

“Was the rasberr necessary?”

“I don’t know. I think it fit quite well.”

“You babes will be drinking more than tea, I hope,” said a lovely dark skinned woman with long, red hair.

“No,” said Taylor, “I’m happy with my tea.”

“Yeah,” said Meg Myers, “I’m deffinitely going to need something harder than this shit.”

“Lady Myers!”

belch! “What?”

The ever gorgeous high priestess, facepalmed her delicate forehead, eyes closing, condemning the heathen creature that sat in front of her…

“Heathen creature, eh scribe!” said Meg raising her wand, “I’ll show you heathen!”

“Now, now, Lady Myers,” said Taylor, “Calm down and tell me who you sold the Crystal Tones to.”

“Whatevs, Priestess,” said Meg, rolling her eyes, “There was a posting on the wall there, and because I needed the money, I contacted the loser. The deal was to meet in the Southern Woods and to stall in case I was followed.”

“So he was there,” said Taylor, “In the southern woods where we did battle?”

“Yeah, uh-huh.”

“You would do best to treat the high priestess with the utmost respect, you wicked witch!”

“Speaking of witches…” said Meg, taking a big gulp of whatever it was that the lovely waitress brought by.

“You didn’t!” said Taylor, an elegant spark of shock graced her illustrious face.

“I did,” said Meg, smiling, “I’m a bad girl.”

“What?” said the lowly scribe, “Did I miss something?”

“The task was created by the dark witch… Madonna…” said Taylor, “Lady Myers, how could you?”

“Well,” said Meg, trying to keep her voice steady, “I guess a perfect angel like yourself wouldn’t understand what a heathen creature like myself is capable of, do you?”

“I didn’t call you that,” pleaded Taylor, “I think you’re amazing.”

Meg’s face tinged red a bit. May have been the liquor, may have been shame, but Meg Myers knew that she had to come clean and tell the great high priestess the truth.

“Would you stop writing that shit!” Meg shouted. “Fine, I screwed up, OK? I saw what looked like a great opportunity, and I took it. Now, before any more bullshit happens, we need to leave. The second part of the job was to lead you here!”

“What?” said Taylor.

“Please,” said Meg, “Let’s get out of here now!”

But before they could evacuate there seats, an explosion from behind them shook the whole building, at the center of the blast stood three women–at least what seemed to be women. The one in the center, her breasts seemed to be reloading?

Bang bang into the room (I know ya want it) They sang,
Bang bang all over you (I’ll let ya have it) They each lifted twin, pink 9mm glocks and started shooting everyone in sight.
Wait a minute lemme take you there (ah) BANG!
Wait a minute till ya (ah) BANG!
Bang bang there goes your heart (I know ya want it)
Back, back seat of my car (I’ll let ya have it)
Wait a minute lemme take you there (ah)
Wait a minute till ya (ah)
“Shit, Priestess,” said Meg, “We gotta move now!”
“No,” said Taylor, “I must not let them get away with this. If this is the road to the Crystal Tones, I must follow it to the end.”
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This ought to keep you slobering for more, ladies and gents. Don’t worry, this isn’t the end for our heroes. I’m just feeling a bit lazy. Give me a minute…
While your waiting, check out some music:
Bang Bang, with Jesse J, Ariana Grande, and Nicki Minaj
And of course check out Madonna, Beyonce, Taylor, and Meg

The Adventures of Taylor Swift Part 2

It wasn’t long until the beautiful and charming High Priestess Taylor Swift, found herself in some major trouble. Not only was she charged with protecting a lowly scribe, such as myself, but the her quest in retrieving the Crystal Tones led her to the mysterious thief herself.

It was a lovely day, as always, in the land of Musica, as the lovely priestess and I traveled out of the capitol city, down the cobble stone path towards the dark and mysterious Southern Woods.

The Southern Woods, though only several miles from the capitol, was smothered in tales of horror and fear all over the capitol. It even gave the great Queen Beyonce shivers when the royal guard pointed down the path of where he saw the hooded woman escape to. And though I, myself, am scared shitless of what might be waiting for us amongst those forboding trees, Priestess Taylor Swift boldly, with the courage of lion ogress protecting her gaggle, marched forward, knowing that without the Crystal Tones… I really don’t know what those are for… at all!

“Priestess?”

“Yes, scribe?”

“I don’t mean to sound uninformed, but I really don’t know what the importance of these Crystal Tones. What are they for?”

“Oh scribe,” she said, sweetly, like a bee stuck in a puddle of honey, “The Crystal Tones are more of a symbol. Rather the seven represent Melody, Rhythm, Tempo, Timbre, Harmony, Form, and Dynamics. Some say they boost an artist’s natural ability… But I’m not very convinced.”

“Oh…” I said. I was a little surprised at her willingness to do this task now. “So… Does Queen Beyonce think they do… that?”

“I don’t know…” said the priestess, “The Tones have always been a symbol in the land of Musica. ‘Whoever shall hold these Tones will be the best artist in all the land…’ something like that… in the legend anyway. Me, I became High Priestess on my own. I didn’t need magic Tones to get me there. I will say I put in a lot of hard work…”

“Hard work?” came an unfamiliar voice from the trees. I hadn’t noticed that we had already come to the Southern Woods. Engulfed in the trees, I shivered and grabbed hold of High Priestess Taylor Swift; she immediately shook me off. (pun intended)

“You may not remember me,” came the voice, “But I remember you Taylor Swift! Always perfect; no one ever had anything bad to say about you. You cast a long shadow for everyone. I hate you! I stood in your shadow, but my music was better than yours ever was. And when time came for the Queen to pick a High Priestess, low and behold, you got it! I was shocked. There had to be some mistake. Why did I lose to you?”

Unfased, the mighty High Priestess shouted, “Show yourself!”

Then a sound like a whispering wind picked up in our ears, soothing and relaxing. I nearly fell to the ground from the gentle tone… But the determined priestess stood her ground, steady and defiant.

ooh ooh ooh ooh…
ooh ooh ooh ooh.
ooh ooh ooh ooh…
ooh ooh ooh ooh.

The wind picked up and we saw a ghostly form, black and misty descending from the canopy, until it thudded on the ground.

A woman, wearing a dark cloak, lowered her hood to reveal a lovely young lady (not a pretty as the high priestess of course!), with black hair and a placid stare. She opened her mouth and a wondrous sound whispered out, amplified by the forest’s acoustics.

I’m a sinner,
I’m a liar,
Want forgiveness
But I’m tired
I’m addicted to the fire…

With that a green flame sprouted from her raised hands.

Let go, I’m ready for it
Let go, I’m ready!

She burst forward, like flight, and thrust both burning fists into the High Priestess’s shoulders, toppling her over into the dead leaves on the ground.

Taylor winced at the searing pain in her arms. They burned, and she had a hard time lifting them.

“My priestess!” I screamed, and it was a girly scream let me tell you…

“No, Scribe!” she said, standing back up. “I can handle this one.” Her cat-like eyes closed to sexy slits as she stared down this nasty girl.

“Is that the best you got, Lady Meg Myers? I believe that you have really underestimated my power!” Taylor closed her eyes and breathed out a long breath. Clearing her mind she dug into her pocket and pulled out her wand.

Hurting her immensely, she waved it as best she could, while singing:

I’d never gone with the wind
Just let it flow
Let it take me where it wants to go
‘Til you open the door
There’s so much more…

The pain, flowed out of her arms and into the atmosphere. The high Priestess was fine again.

I’d never seen it before
I was trying to fly
But I couldn’t find wings
But you came along and you changed everything

Out from her back sprouted huge, glowing, silvery wings, pushing her forward in a flash of silvery grace, she charged at Meg Myers, ready to take her down and retrieve the Crystal Tones.

But before the magnificent Taylor Swift could land a paralyzing blow, Lady Meg Myers countered:

I’m a shadow
I’m a creeper

Immediately she took on her shadowy, black form

Want forgiveness
Getting weaker
I’m addicted to the fever

Her black shadowy form changed into a red ball of fire.

Let go, I’m ready for it
Let go, I’m ready

She pushed forward towards Taylor, like a shooting star, on a crash course into my beautiful valkrie.

Taylor flapped her wings, ceasing her forward motion, then again raising herself higher in order to dodged the hot, fireball of hate.

You lift my feet off the ground
You spin me around
You make me crazier, crazier
Feels like I’m falling and I am lost in your eyes
You make me crazier, crazier, crazier

Her body became covered in silver armor, her gauntlets glowed, producing a giant shield around her body. Which was good because Meg diverted her direction, homing after Taylor burning brighter, coliding shooting spark and flames. I had to dodge them from below. Unfortunately my pants caught on fire.

I’m a danger
I’m a cipher
Try to wake up
No desire
I’m a daughter in the choir

Meg Myers blew up (after I published this post), breaking Taylor’s shield and bringing them both down to the ground. She landed on all fours with a loud crash, leaving a Meg-sized crater beneath her. Turning her eyes up to Taylor:

Let go, I’m ready for it
Let go, I’m ready

I’ve watched from a distance as you made life your own
Every sky was your own kind of blue

Taylor waved her wand, creating a glowing golden chain.

And I wanted to know how that would feel
And you made it so real
You showed me something that I couldn’t see

The Chain took life and with the quickness of a serpent, wrapped around Meg Myers, incasing her in a golden bondage…

You opened my eyes
And you made me believe

At that moment, Meg Myers was brought back to their school days. She saw Taylor performing in class again. She though to herself, ‘Is she trying to torture me with her “greatness”?’

Taylor had finished her performance to the loud clapping of the rest of the class. Meg rolled her eyes. She remembered this day. She had a great performance ready for the class, but she was going to relive the annoyance of their ever comparison of the two.

Meg stood up to perform, but when she looked out into the audience, there was only Taylor Swift sitting there.

‘Your performance,’ said Taylor, ‘Inspired me a lot. I know that many in our class thought that I was the greatest, but really, I think you had some of the best songs I had ever heard before. You had a unique sound. A sound that was very different from everyone else. I think that’s why I liked you the most. I’m sorry you felt like I overshadowed you. In truth I thought you were the best.’

In reality, Meg fell silent, coiled up in golden chain, her struggling stopped. Her body relaxed as she stared up at Taylor, who smiled back down at her.

“You really were the best in our class,” said Taylor, “I meant every word. Please, I am looking for the Crystal Tones you stole. Please tell me where they are and I will make sure you are pardoned.”

Meg stared back at Taylor. She thought about the past she just saw, the sincerity on Taylor’s face, but… She just wasn’t sure.

“I sold them,” she said, her face placid as before, “They are on there way to the Witch now.”

To be continued…

In all seriousness, thanks for the likes. This isn’t what I’m used to writing, but it is pretty fun to say the least.

Please check out the music of meg myers and taylor swift and beyonce

The Adventures of Taylor Swift: The Quest for the Crystal Tones

When I first met the priestess, I was just an aid in the Queen’s service… Oh, I’m sorry, you don’t know who or what I’m talking about, do you?

In the land of Musica, which is a place far from the land that you come from, music is everything. It IS. It is structure, chaos… every little thing in the world is music. Music is rhythm, emotion, it is everything in the land of Musica.

Those highly gifted in music are called artists. They travel the world performing and bring light into the world…

Well, many do… but I’m getting to that.

Me, I’m not an artist… I am not highly gifted in music. I can’t dance, sing, or play an instrument. In school I was the worst out of all in my class and I was picked on for it. I am very lucky to be in the Queen’s service at all. I still have no idea why she employed me. She says she likes the way I write…

I am simply a scribe. I have little importance to the story at all. I was there; I witnessed everything and I feel it is my duty to recount the tale of the high priestess and the quest the Queen gave her.

Queen Beyonce, a most kind and generous lady of music, against better judgement in my opinion, chose me to accompany the priestess on her journey… much against the priestess’s wishes.

It was a beautiful day, as I remember it. Queen Beyonce was sitting at her balcony, drinking tea and singing with the birds, typical Queenly duties, when a startling discovery was made.

Sabastian, a royal guard, rushed inside the chamber (I was standing in the corner, documenting everything (it’s one of those creepy things I do (can I put a parenthesis inside a parenthesis? ( I hope the Queen doesn’t mind (any of it))))).

“My queen,” he started, panting and huffing, like a man who dealt with a mighty struggle. “There was a mighty struggle in the vault. Someone, a very talented artist, has stolen the Crystal Tones!”

Queen Beyonce gasped. There was no telling what was going through her mind at that moment, but I’m sure it was something like this:

My goodness, without the Crystal Tones, the reign of love and sweetness is in peril. I must send the beautiful high priestess, Taylor Swift, the one with the fiery gaze and lovely legs to find them.

…OK, that’s what I was thinking… But the high priestess is one foxy mama, if I do say so myself…

Queen Beyonce hummed a melody that soothed the guard’s mind, as well as my own, and with a clack of her tap slippers, summoned the high priestess.

The lovely priestess, angelic with her wondrous gaze, knelt down before Queen Beyonce. “My queen, what seems to trouble you?”

“The Crystal Tones have been stolen,” Queen Beyonce said, gravely.

The priestess gasped, with the cuteness of a prairie fairy. “My Queen, without the Crystal Tones, the kingdom will soon be under attack by our enemies.”

“Yes, Priestess,” said Queen Beyonce, “And I can’t think of anyone more qualified to get them back but yourself.”

“My Queen,” said Priestess Swift, “I have my duties here, to you and the people. I can’t leave you.”

“I will be alright, Priestess,” said Queen Beyonce, smiling, “But our kingdom will not if we do not get the Crystal Tones back.”

Priestess Swift knelt down again, with the grace of a swan. “I will do as you ask, my Queen.”

“And take the scribe with you,” said Queen Beyonce.

It was my turn to be flabbergasted, for I have never qualified for such a task.

“My Queen,” I said, “If I leave, who will document your entire day?”

“I’ll… be OK, scribe,” she said, “You need to get some sun and more life experience. You’ll never become an amazing writer if you don’t see the world.”

“My Queen,” protested Priestess Swift, like a beautiful flower protesting a weed, “He will only slow me down and get in my way.”

“Priestess,” said the Queen, “Someone must write down your adventures, so that many can enjoy them… Plus, he’s getting on my last nerve, following me around, taking pictures, writing every little thing I do. I can’t even enjoy cake any more!”

“Hey! I’m standing right here!”

“And now,” she said, “You will stand with Priestess Swift and retrieve the Crystal Tones.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” I said.

And begrudgingly, Priestess Swift took the love-sick scribe on a magical quest to retrieve the Crystal Tones. Little did our heroes know that it would not be an easy mission.

Loner Chapter 6

Byron stood staring at his usual circular lunch table the Monday after the almost beat down the previous weekend, and what he saw made him extremely uncomfortable. Today’s lunch was supposed to be like any other school day: Byron would stand in line and pick whatever edibles he could find, and, with a tray of food, he would stroll over to his table, unhindered by those around him and sit by himself and eat.

Today, however, fate decided to break the rules… Byron’s face turned into a grimace as he stared at his now occupied table. Sitting in its once vacant seats were Todd Muckleroy, Charisa Monroe, and Howie Nelson… talking… this was unprecedented!

They had their own friends to sit and eat with; couldn’t they bug them for today? And hopefully for the rest of the week?

Byron sat his tray down and stared at them until they finally looked up. All except Charisa; she stared down at her tray completely still.

“Hey, man,” said Howie, smiling, “Why don’t you take a seat?”

Continue reading Loner Chapter 6

The Tale of the Jackelope

In the early days of Earth’s creation, there was a huge party. All the animals were invited and amongst them were Angelo Antelope and Rita Rabbit.

Angelo was a shy, young buck, who didn’t have it very easy with the young lady antelopes. Though he tried to be a strong and virile antelope in front of them, it didn’t help that he was the smallest antelope.

Yes, Angelo was very small for an antelope; he was a third the size of a normal male. He was constantly made fun of in high school by both the males and females of his species.

Rita, on the other hand, was a very popular female. She had many suitors trying to mate with her, but she was very weary of them.

She knew she was beautiful, but she also knew that beauty faded and she worried that they would leave her once she aged. She noticed that among the young male rabbits that approached her, they were only interested in one thing, and she wasn’t interested, however sometimes she found it hard to get rid of them.

Continue reading The Tale of the Jackelope

The Psychic Society: Chapter 5

Jillian stood outside the LaGuardia Airport, the sky darkened by black clouds, visibility blinded by sheets of pouring water. She pulled her coat tightly around her neck, relieving the unusual chill crawling down it.

Her good for nothing brother had the audacity of not meeting her at the airport! And though it was comforting to have such a sum deposited into her bank account, she could have done with a little more accommodation. She reached into her coat pocket and brought out a sheet of paper where she scribbled the address.

456 Sycamore Avenue Apartment Building 7, Apartment 21, Queens…

Te cab ride was swift and Jillian found herself standing outside a very nice apartment complex. Staring up the front at the stone and brick that composed the structure, she forgot all about the sheets of rain soaking her clothes.

Then she felt a familiar pull, as if someone took her by the hand, and guided her through the door and towards the elevator. Once inside, she was urged to press the 6 button. Pressing it, she regained her senses, a sense of panic… The elevator chimed. She was now on floor 6, should she get out to see what was behind that door?

Continue reading The Psychic Society: Chapter 5

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