Saturday, September 17, 2011

ლ(ಠ益ಠლ) Y U NO STAY DEAD?

To reiterate on a point Big Mike made some time ago;

All your friend's are dead. Not literally (well, not completely). But they hardly matter anymore. But some come around.

"Ol' buddy, there you are!"

No, no. Smile. Wave, call it good. Some situations are good. Some, barely bearable. Most, bad. Most, go away. Most, you weren't interested then, don't be interested now.

Perhaps the cynicism will go away. Perhaps these words will be rued. They aren't right now, though. Right now I mean them.

Cept. That one chick I had a crush on in the 6th grade. We do sex, cool? Don't worry, I have condoms. I'm a big boy now. All growed up.

~Xavier R.

Friday, September 16, 2011

The Darkness

The walls of the compound kept vibrating, and this caused anxiety among the researchers and their sporadic family members. They had no idea how to stop it, or what it was, but all had the same sneaking suspicion, of what it was. Eerily creeping past and through them, a darkness was abound.

"What?" Roy Roe was awake. He looked left and right, his wife by his side, but still asleep. Well, not asleep anymore.

"I didn't say anything, sweets." She half grumbled and half yawned. "Now go back to bed."

This would not do for Roy Roe. He knew he heard something. So half naked, half asleep, and fully intrigued, he tossed his half of the blankets on top Mrs. Roe, and slid from bed. He waved his hand passed the scanner on his door, and the door then proceeded to near instantly dissipate, leaving a wide opening for him to walk through. One he did, it then became a solid door once more. He could slightly hear his wife groan towards him as he made his way down the corridor.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu..." Roy Roe heard the shout, which before it could finish what he figured would have become a very pronounced "fuck", he heard what he imagined was the exploding of meat. Or, well, a person. The steel walls, with no windows and the occasional door made him nervous, because the sound could have come from anywhere. He decided to run back to his room, to check on his wife.

When he arrived, he found blood covering the floor and sink in the kitchen, the living area, and the bed. All that remained were bits of bone, entails, and hair. He fell to his knees, with tears in his eyes.

"My beautiful wife." The lights in his room then brightened. This signaled daylight. The screaming had stopped. The clattering of a busy research station could be heard from outside his door.

"Wake him! Wake him now!" A familiar voice. What was this about? It was coming from nowhere!

"Wake him god damn it! The dosage was too high!" He shook and trembled, cracks in his skin opening, and glowing.

"Wake him..." and then darkness. Nothing. He woke, to find himself standing over half a dozen dead, mutilated bodies with white jackets. Behind him, a patient's table with the limb straps tore off. The walls. The ceiling. The equipment. All there, but all wavering information. Numbers. Numbers to be tampered with. A hole opened in front of him, in a wall he decided was there. He stepped through, to find himself in his living quarters. His wife was as he dreamed she was. Bits of bones, entails and hair.

He fell to his knees.

~Xavier R.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Where's the Armadillo?

"You'll never get away with this, you meat fascist" said the anemic PETA activist to Walter, the Zoo security guard, a man by no means deficient in protein.

Walter, a kind looking man with a mustache, smiled sympathetically as he tightened the burlap feed bag that bound the hippy to the support beam at the center of the boiler room. "You kids, you keep letting all the animals out of the zoo, you know this puts us all in a predicament"

"Wild animals are supposed to run free!" spat the skinny dreaded man.

"I understand, really I do" sighed Walter "But lions aren't supposed to run free in the zoo downtown"

The pasty face was indignant but couldn't argue with logic like that, especially not with a brain fed on tofu. "so what are you gonna do? Keep me locked up in this boiler room?"

"Well, I can't really let you off with a slap on the wrist like when you let out the petting zoo goat last week. You're gonna have to cough up the Armadillo you stole a month back"


"Where's the armadillo?" Walter asked politely

"No!" Screamed the PETA activist.

"Where's the fucking armadillo!?" Walter, now beet red, screeched into the mans ear. His gun stuck firmly under the hippy's zitty, bearded chin.

"I'll never give him up! Never!"

"Fine, have it your way" sighed Walter, calm again.

"Call the cops! I don't care, I'll go to prison, no problem! I'll do anything for the animals!" The PETA activist rattled on, as if he had something rehearsed, but in the heat of the moment only gave the jist of it.

"Cops? Oh, no." Walter smiled. He scratched his chin and gave a thoughtful look. "But you'll do anything for the animals, right?"

The hippy nodded, eager to have his iron resolve tested. "Yes."

Walter looked towards the door the hippy didn't even realize was open. "You hear that, Rex?"

A deep, throaty but distinctly feline growl came from just out of the hippy's line of vision. "Mmm hmm".

A 500 pound behemoth of a lion pranced into the room and nodded a friendly greeting to Walter. "Hey Walt" said Rex the lion and then gave the hippy a very toothy smile.

"He's a little on the light side, but I'll tell ya what Rex, I'll throw in that fuckin' goat for your troubles"

"Ah, ever the gentleman, our friend Walter" growled the lion.

Walt knelt down next to the big cat, not yet in kill mode, and ruffled his mane "I've even wrapped him up in Burlap, don't want to be environmentally unfriendly, now do we?"

"A gentleman and a scholar" Smiled Rex.

Big Mike.