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elohveywrite · 5 years
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Chapter 3 Working Title: Aurora Sanctum (Previously Untilted Story)
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Picture was taken by me in Seattle 2017 (Summer)
Chapter Three
POV: Teddy
A day had passed, and I sat at a bar slightly upset at not having accomplished my goal yet. But the more I thought about this ridiculous task, the more I realized how unattainable it was. I was not smartly going about this. Yet, I was too proud to go and seek advice. Looking around for the bartender at the Ugly Mug Lounge, I noticed that he was changing spots with a woman who looked maybe twenty-five. Sighing, I frowned, deciding to stick to beer instead of cocktails as my experience with younger bartenders usually turned out sour. As she made her way down the counter taking orders, the closer she got the more unique she appeared to be. Her hair was about five inches past shoulder-length and dark with green and blue highlights in it, and when she turned her face to me, I was met with someone who was … enchanting in an unusual sense. She had almond-shaped light brown eyes, dark tan skin, and a heart-shaped mouth.
"What would you like sir?" She asked me as she came up to me. Her voice was softer than I expected for the edgier look she was going for. She wore dark green lipstick that was almost black, and her eyes were shaded with dark makeup. The clothes she wore gave off the goth vibe for sure. Black leather jacket with a band tee underneath.
"A blonde stout of whatever you have on tap," I ordered. She nodded and moved on to ask the next two people next to me. I noticed that she didn't write anything down. Back at her station, she made quick work of the cocktails, the beers, the shots and whatever else people ordered without having to ask them for details again. She placed each order out perfectly, including mine. No one noticed though, and she didn't seem to care either. She was a strange human.
Twenty minutes later I was starting to leave but paused when I heard glass breaking. The bartender was trying to walk past a burly looking fellow, maybe 40 or so, but she was looking down at the broken glass on the floor. A bottle by the looks of it. Frowning she went to move past him, but he blocked her again.
"Do whatever you want to do, so I can go about my night," she said with a monotone voice, not an ounce of anger dripping from the tone.
"Fuck you, Jules. I told you last week that your mom owed me $500 for the gun she stole from my truck when I was fucking her on New Year's. Give me that money," the man shouted, causing several people around them to stop talking and stare.
"Do you have any proof of this?" Jules asked, her tone bored.
"That I fucked her? No. But my gun went missing the same night." The burly man professed while rubbing his beard.
"Cory… this was what—fifteen years ago? Are you sure you remember—" Cory didn't let Jules finish talking and Cory slapped her across the face, hard enough to leave a bruise and forcing Jules to stumble backward, blinking and reaching up to touch her face.
"Are you done?" is all she asked him before another man came up next to Jules placing a hand on her shoulder.
This man was older, maybe in his fifties. But still fit, and with a full head of hair. "Cory, go fuck off. She owes you nothing. If you lay a hand on her again, I'll kill you my damn self," this man said. Jules sighed and then went around Cory, leaving Cory to watch her walk away from him.
"She's lucky you stand up for her Vincent. I'm leaving," Cory tells Vincent and then brushes past him as he exits the bar.
Vincent then walks away from the mess on the floor and Jules walked out of my view. Deciding that no intervention was needed from myself I also leave, partly to make sure that Cory did leave, and partly because I had a job to finish.
Once outside I make the short two-minute walk to head to the underground parking lot and spot Cory shouting on the phone at someone. "That fucking stuck up bitch owes me. I'm not gonna let Vincent stop me from getting mine." He gets in his car, slamming the door as he does so. He's so heavy set that the car bounced slightly as he moves around to put his seatbelt on. I roll my eyes and go to my motorcycle. Humans were obsessed with money and what they were owed, it was sickening to watch the lengths they would go to, to get richer.
As I placed the helmet on my head, I noticed that Cory's car was shaking back and forth rather violently. Curious, I got off my bike and stepped closer, and noticed that he was reaching for his neck and trying to reach behind him. Flashing over with preternatural speed, I yank the door open and see that someone is choking him with a wire from behind the seat.
"Stop what you are doing right now," I urge as I reach for the gloved hand, yanking it away from Cory's neck. Cory now free pulls the cord from his neck and starts to wheeze.
The person behind Cory's seat curses and then points their gun at me. "Back the fuck up," the feminine voice says as she steps out of the other side of the car, gun aimed at me the entire time. I don't see her face until she stands up, gun still pointed at me. Jules.
After having nearly choked Cory to death, she doesn't look too flustered. "Hands up now," she orders me. I comply, of course. But as I do, she keeps her eyes on me, lowers her gun towards Cory and shoots him right through the head. His brain matter splatters against my jacket and jeans, and then she deftly points the weapon back at me.
"You are so in the wrong place wrong time buddy," she says, and then pulls the trigger. I'm hit in the chest three times and then the head once. Her shots were quick, succinct and on target. But she stares at me in shock as I continue to stand, alive.
It's the first time tonight that I've seen her express emotion. The skin, muscle, and bone where she shot me are most likely bruised, but it's stinging and burning like a bitch right now. But no blood is spilled. The bullets lay on the concrete floor below me, partially flattened after hitting me. At the moment she takes to look at her gun, confused, I flash around the car to take the weapon from her and shove her against the car. Hard enough to cause it to rock slightly.
"I'll pay you," She says rapidly turning her head to look back at me as her front is pressed against the car. I quickly wrap her hands in cuffs and place her weapon in my pants, the barrel still hot.
"Jules you are under arrest for the murder of this … man here."
"You are not a cop," she says matter of factly. Shit. She called me out of my lie quick.
Fuck this, I take out my phone and with the same hand dial Irene's number. She picks up after only two rings. "Teddy, what a pleasure—"
"I need help. There's a human here that I caught. She just murdered someone and attempted to murder me right after."
"Turn her over to the human police," she remarked, as though it were all so simple.
"She shot me four times, once in the head."
There was a pause.
"I'll send Beeza at once," Irene imparted and hung up her end of the line.
Meanwhile, Jules stomps on my instep, which causes me some pain but not enough to flinch or let go of her. She then shoves backward at me, only to find me unmoving. Then taking her head, she launches it up at my chin. This does startle me slightly, but again I don't let go of her. She manages to bend over in our little struggle and bites my arm with her teeth. Which is cute really. "What the fuck are you?" She asks me astounded. I press her into the car harder, but as I do, I feel something burning on my chest, hot enough to cause me to jump back and pull my jacket apart, ripping it. As I try to find what's burning me, Jules takes this moment to turn and kick me, using all of her lower body energy as she leaned against the car, forcing me to fall back on my ass.
She then takes off towards an SUV, and I finally pull out the necklace and find that it is glowing so fucking bright that it blinds me temporarily. I drop the damn thing against my chest and it starts to die down, returning to normal after Jules manages to get her SUV door open. Fuck.
I launch myself at her, and pull her away from the door, slamming it shut. "Stay still," I order her. She glares at me in return.
"I don't make idle threats' asshole. You fuckup once, and your neck is mine," she threatened. I look back at the necklace again and watch it glow again, it's not as bright as before, but it's glowing. I look around for the other person in the small garage that must be here. But find no one, other than the now-dead Cory.
My eyes going back to Jules I sigh. "Mau's necklace must be busted," I tell myself. And then a small ball of purplish glowing light shows up in the middle of the garage, growing larger until it's a huge oval at least six feet tall and four feet wide. Beeza steps out of the portal and spots me with Jules by her SUV.
Gracefully she glides over, decked out in black leather pants and a black sweater. She looks at me, Jules and then to the necklace. "This isn't what was advertised. You found the recruit, but Irene told me you found a murderer."
"It appears that she is one and the same. Both a murderer and the worthy one. I think Mau's necklace is malfunctioning. But I for sure saw her kill that man over there, in that car. And she for sure attempted to kill me." I use my free hand to point at the mark on my forehead.
"Just one area she shot at," I conclude.
Beeza looks from my face and then back to Jules' face. "This is odd. I'll take her in."
"Are you two magicians or is this some fucked up reality show?" Jules asks both of us. Beeza goes to grab her, but she flinches away. I forcefully shove her into Beeza's arms.
Neither of us answers her question. And I watch as Beeza drags Jules to the portal though Jules digs the heels of her boots into the concrete trying to prevent herself from getting close to it.
"Call Nam-Il to clean this up Teddy," Beeza says just before she tosses Jules through the portal first. Beeza then holds up a hand, and with her magic summons the necklace from around my neck to hers right before vanishing through the portal. Once she leaves the portal also disappears. I sigh deeply and then use my phone to dial Nam-Il.
He was not going to be happy about tonight.
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elohveywrite · 5 years
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Chapter 1 and 2 of Untitled Story
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Chapter One (Teddy)
I stood in front of this council of the Seattle Sanctum, aloof. I couldn’t believe what they were suggesting to me. 
“You want me to find a protégé for the Aurora Sanctum? Me? Why not Beeza or Chidi?” I asked, truly confused. Beeza was the leader of the Sanctum in Seattle and Chidi was the second in command. I was only a member and had been a part of the Seattle Sanctum for two years. 
“You’ve proven to be an excellent asset to the team Theodore. So, we believe you can find a suitable candidate for the Sanctum.” Elizabeth the angel of the assorted council of five spoke first. I knew she was a beauty filled with grace and great assets, but she could be a bit too much sometimes. It was like she was trying to act human, but failing badly, while also being too proud at the same time.
“So, what are the qualifications for this recruit of ours?” I asked the council.
Calak was the first to speak up, he was a mage who survived hundreds of years of wars and plague thanks to his skill and intelligence with magic. “They need to be worthy, strong, and intelligent.”
Rolling my eyes, while running one hand against the stubble on my chin, I questioned, “That’s a little vague don’t you think Calak?” Calak looked down at me, his white hair blowing softly in a wind that wasn’t blowing through the room. It was more of a magical effect he had going on.
“You will know when you find them,” Mau interrupted. She was a demi-god that lived among the humans for thousands of years. “I will gift you this necklace and you must wear it at all times. It will glow a bright white once the worthy person is near you,” Mau finished reaching into her dress pocket to fetch the necklace she spoke of. Once she held it out, I reached for it and saw that it was on a golden chain. The rock or crystal rather was a round oval and clear like glass. Once I touched it in my grasp, the crystal felt perfectly smooth. As I put it on, I saw the crystal begin to glow from within. It wasn’t very bright, but it was enough to lighten my face, chest, and hands in the dim council room.
Ori spoke next, “I’m curious who the council will deem worthy.” As I looked over to him, I saw that Orion the young vampire truly did look inquisitive—even when nearly everything bored him to death usually.
“Whoever it is, has a lot of work ahead of them,” Nimue—the final council member and a witch--said to the group. I nodded my head and looked down at the crystal as it returned to its normal opaqueness.
“You have 72 hours to find them, Theodore,” Elizabeth ordered. “If you cannot find them by then, we will have to seek out more costly measures.” I sighed and brushed a hand through the top of my hair, smoothing it back.
I then left the council room, closing the door swiftly behind me. Making my way out of the building the Sanctum had repurposed for their use in Seattle, which was right smack in the middle of the waterfront near Pike’s Place Market, I headed south. This Sanctum was magically hidden, glamoured from the public eye. Only Sanctum members could see its location, glowing softly in purple light. Once I passed through the ‘portal’ barrier the loud cacophony of the tourist, shoppers and homeless population greeted my ears. I figured going to public places first in Seattle would narrow down my list of suspects so I started right close to home and walked over to the crowded market.
        *****
Chapter Two (Jules)
I stepped back into my SUV, a different one than last nights of course. I got rid of the one I used last night. It was burnt out in the middle of the forest, about two hours’ drive south of Seattle. It was lovely seeing things finally come to a close. And now, I was one hundred thousand dollars richer. Grinning, I placed the cash-filled bag on the floor of the passenger’s seat next to me. Now all I had to do was go visit my ‘banker’. 
Officially, Albert bought one of my paintings that he deemed worthy of one hundred thousand dollars. And by worthy, I mean he looked at three different options and said, “Whichever one you don’t want.”
I cared a bit more than he did, so I decided to give him the watercolor painting I did with a woman with lilac hair, dancing in a field of flowers and grass, with the mountains in the background. I named it “Elise” in my mind. But on paper, it was named, ‘Welcoming Spring’. Locking the doors, I sat back in my seat and drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, before turning the car on and heading out of Albert’s driveway. It would be the last time I ever saw him.
An hour later, my money deposited, and papers submitted, I headed to my part-time job which was teaching art to children at an after-school club. 
I know, weird. A hitman teaching art to underprivileged children. What a riot. But sometimes I enjoyed it. They inspired me. Which was something I never thought a child could do.
Opening the door to the center, I waved at Ana the office clerk who smiled at me and waved back. “Glad to see you again Jules.” 
Nodding at her, I replied, “Same.” And then went to the room where my class was held so I could set up the lesson. Today I was going to have the kids do watercolors of animals and let them choose their backgrounds. Nearly done with getting everything ready, a few of the kids started to arrive.
“What’s up, Miss J!” I looked up and grinned at Julian who had a similar name as myself. 
“Not much Julian, is your mom doing better?” If I remembered correctly, she was in the hospital after she had a heart attack last week.
“Yup all better, she’s going to be released next week,” Julian said, his voice booming with happiness. I nodded and grinned as I got the paints set up for each group's table. 
“That’s great Julian.” I know I said it, and it probably sounded like I was happy, but really, I felt mostly nothing. I was happy that I didn’t have to pretend to be sad about her getting worse though. Pretending to be sad was always awkward. 
“Miss J, Alexis is going to be absent today, she broke her arm skateboarding yesterday afternoon,” Mike said as he rushed into to class with two other friends with him. I just nodded my head.
“That’s too bad, we’ll miss him,” I said, trying to put some sincere sympathy in my voice. Though even I admit it came across as bland. “Alright, who is ready to paint some animal silhouettes!” I announced aloud.
My lesson was to have the kids first take a quiz to see which animal they were most like out of the five I picked, and asked them the questions aloud I demonstrated how to sketch each animal’s silhouette. The two hours flew by quickly. The kids had me also join in and take the quiz. I assumed I would get the wolf, but I got the bunny instead which was odd—but they seemed happy about it so I pretended to be as well.
Half an hour later, I arrived back home at my sanctum. Finally, I was alone. It was nice to shed the ‘face’ I put on for others and just be my natural self. Since I lived alone, I was able to leave things as messy as I wanted or as clean as I wanted… and this week, I was going to clean. Everything was nicely labeled and organized, like a cutout of a magazine photoshoot. I placed my keys in their usual spot and went to the kitchen, filling my kettle with water to make tea.
I did feel things. People assumed--when I was younger that as a teenager diagnosed with at first conduct disorder and then later antisocial personality disorder or psychopathy--that I didn’t feel things. I did. I guess I just felt them on a different scale. Rage and anger were easy to come by. But now I took medications to help me, and they were doing great. I was less anxious, less impulsive. I even managed to go to college and graduate. I tried to become an art teacher, but failed, miserably. I couldn’t stand working eight hours a day, pretending to care about everything related to the job.
It was easier to do it in short bursts. 
So, I became an artist who did part-time work at clubs as a bartender, art projects at elderly homes, and after school art clubs. I painted in my free time as well. 
It wasn’t until four years ago that I went into the hitman business though. It all started after meeting an old friend. He used to be my dad’s friend in the military. My dad passed away after an accident my family had when I was a 14. That accident is kind of what caused my state of mind. I use to be a caring individual, I felt too much in fact. But after getting injured, being hospitalized for four months, and having my dad and brother die in the car accident—afterward, I changed. 
It was just me and my mom. My lovely mother. Well… she wasn’t all that lovely. She was a beauty--don’t get me wrong--but she was evil to the core. I don’t think she was exactly like me, but maybe a different version of me. She was abusive. I dreamed of the day I could crush her face in with my bare hands. Expelling all that hate right back at her in one brutal moment. And then I’d laugh and laugh.
Sadly, it wasn’t me that killed her. It was some stranger, a drug addict that attacked her with a knife. I was seventeen when it happened, and my dad’s friend took me in with his family afterward even though I was old enough to be on my own. I thought he was a nice guy until he showed me his true colors—catching him in the middle of a horrendous act. In the middle of disposing of a body in the garage, cutting it up into smaller pieces so he could dissolve them in a lye bath.
I didn’t tell anyone. Nor did I blackmail him. It simply wasn’t my business.
When I was 27, only four years ago, I met him again. And that’s when he said he could teach me. A way to earn money. If I was brave enough to do it. And I needed the money to pay off my mother’s debt to her creditors. 
Among all the damn flaws she had, gambling and doing drugs were the top of the list. I knew she wasted tens of thousands—it’s what my dad often had to cough up to the goons that came around threatening us. 
But really, she landed us in the millions of dollars of debt. Why the fuck would someone let her do that shit is beyond me. I thought he was an idiot. And I still ‘owed’ that idiot another million dollars out of the total three million my mom wasted. 
Vincent had me working for him as soon as I was 18, as a bartender. I also had a stint for about a year, luring rich assholes with my body, drugging them and robbing them. But as I got older, the less likely the men wanted to choose me. So, I bartended, then I used my art degree to help sell counterfeit art and ‘wash’ money at the gallery he owned. But I was getting tired of working for him four years ago and leaped at the chance of making larger amounts of money—even if it meant I had to kill people.
Pouring my tea, I thought back to the first person I killed. I nearly died myself trying to kill them. I planned everything out so well, at least I thought I did. I shook my head, angry at the messiness of that day and poured sugar into my cup. 
I still did bartend for him once a week—he wanted me to show my face each week to make sure I wasn’t going to vanish on him. So, I did it. Today was Thursday though, so I had the evening to myself. I headed to the art area of my studio apartment which was my loft above the kitchen, and I began to paint the real Elise. 
I painted her as though she were alive right now, smiling, happy. Glowing with her beauty. 
Pitiful.
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elohveywrite · 5 years
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Untitled Story
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Prelude
Standing up, I looked at the blood that pooled on the white tiles and into the dark grout that the body laid atop. I averted my eyes from the body, focusing on the small little dots on the white tile instead, just before the blood-covered them up with dark red. Sighing, I heard a dog outside start to howl. It was far enough away--thank goodness. No one wants to put down a dog, not even a hitman. The wind outside was starting to pick up as the night grew darker and colder. December was my favorite month of the year. Not because of Christmas or New Year—though they were great don’t get me wrong. But the weather… that was my favorite part. Winter beginning.
If I had to pick a season that was most like me, it would be Winter. I liked the rain, the cold wind. But winter could also be pretty—people put out nice decorations, the snow flitted down for kids to make angels. Winter was magical. And I liked to think of myself as something pretty like that. But… no one really was.
Certainly not this poor woman that lay dead on this white tile floor. She was pitiful, yes. Looked like a model for sure, her teeth shining white, her hair perfect, and her breasts firm and perky. But she was dead. Which was pitiful.
But now I had another fifty thousand to add to my savings, which was great. I needed it. And this woman, Elise was her name, she was going to die one way or another what with a husband who didn’t want to give away half his life earnings—which was in the millions. If he didn’t hire me, some other person would have done the job.
So why not me? I chose this life. And she chose hers.
I look down and sigh once again as the dog howls outside again. Just don’t wake anyone up, doggie, I think to myself. I take my ‘go bag’ and pull out the tarp, laying it flat on the floor next to Elise’s body. Gently I roll her over onto the tarp next. I then finally wrap the tarp around her with zip ties and start to drag her body from the kitchen to the garage door of her home. My legs strain, and my lower back aches, but I muscle on. Gently lowering her body to the garage floor, I then open the back of the SUV.
“Now comes the hard part,” I say out loud to myself. Bending with my knees, I take grasp of Elise inside the tarp and spend the next thirty or so seconds maneuvering her deadweight into the SUV. With her finally inside, I close the door and roll my shoulders and neck trying to loosen up the stress that bundled up there. More relaxed, I head back inside and start the cleanup process. The husband said he would send a crew himself, I told him, yeah sure, go ahead. But I always clean up my scenes myself. I couldn’t trust others, especially not with this.
A few trips back and forth to get things straight, I finally was able to start cleaning all the blood away. I didn’t think it would get so messy, but Elise struggled more than I thought she would. She was also stronger than I imagined a woman her size would be. So instead of shooting her with my lovely and sexy Ruger 22 LR with SR22 silencer attached, I had to use a good old-fashioned kitchen knife. She managed to knock the gun out of my hand by accident—which took me by surprise. But I was quick to think fast, snatched the knife, and went for the back of her shoulder first—stabbing three times. She fell and not wanting her to suffer, I slit her carotid artery from side to side. Hearing--the gurgling noises the body makes can be haunting to some--her bleed out in less than maybe two minutes, gave me enough time to realize that the mess this made would cost me more time than I planned for.
I could still take my time of course, but the security for the rich block Elise lived on was supposed to roll around at ten-fifteen on this street and it was already ten o’clock. Grumbling under my breath once again, I reached up and straightened my baseball cap, and glanced at the kitchen one more time. Everything was put back in its place, perfectly. The tile gleamed as shiny and pristine as it did before. It was probably too clean actually, but I’d rather there be no evidence at all even if it did look a little suspicious.
The husband wanted the wife to be ‘lost at sea’ so I had to get going quickly to make it to the boat soon where he had paid someone handsomely (hopefully not more than myself though, or I’d be vindictive about it), to ferry myself and the body out a few miles from shore. I didn’t have to go, but I wanted to make sure I saw what was done with Elise. I killed her after all. I needed to make sure that everything went perfectly.
So I headed back out to the garage with my things and made the twenty-minute drive from uptown Seattle in Broadview to the Edmonds area where their marina beach park was, which was close to my actual destination, the Port of Edmonds.
About twenty minutes later, I pulled up to the port parking lot and waited five minutes for my contact person to come to find me. I didn’t make any calls—we were on a strict schedule, which I did fuck up royally. But I did send the correct signal by flashing my headlights towards docks E-F three times.
I didn’t have a phone on me anyway. If shit went sideways, I had a backup plan to take care of Elise on my terms. But the contact showed up anyways. I put my black dust mask on my face, the kind that a surgeon might wear, but mine was made of fabric and black to match my black sweater, gray jacket, and black jeans. I didn’t want this person seeing my face at all, so I settled with letting them see my eyes if they could in this darkness.
“You Alex?” The man said to me after I finally rolled my window down to let him see me.
“Yeah,” it wasn’t, it was the fake name I gave the husband Albert. “The package is in the back; do you have a cart, Gary?”
I asked because I didn’t see one around. “No, we have to do this the hard way, unfortunately,” the man said, his gray eyebrows furrowing slightly. I looked him up and down and hoped that he would be able to hold more weight than myself as I wasn’t a religious gym attendee. Getting out of the SUV, I helped Gary—probably not his real name either—get Elise out of the back of the trunk.
“Nice job on the zip ties here,” Gary commented as we struggled to lift her body out of the vehicle.
“A cart would have been preferred, Gary. The cameras have been taken care of, right?”
“Roger that Alex. Already on a loop thanks to Albert’s friends.” Gary then stumbled slightly, forcing some of Elise’s weight on me, almost causing me to fall over. Rolling my eyes, I steadied her body and continued the trek towards the dock. Less than five minutes later, we finally had her on the boat’s deck. Gary headed over to the helm and started the engine, taking us slowly out to sea. I looked around and spotted the extra anchors and ropes that was set up to tie onto Elise and got right to work. Making sure my gloves were secure, I made quick work on the job. When I was done I noticed we were at least three miles from shore, the waves already rocking the boat around making me feel seasick.
And of course, it had to start raining. It was always rainy in Seattle. While I loved the rain most days, during a job on a boat out at sea… it wasn’t the most pleasant time for rain. We spent another five minutes heading out to sea. We didn’t have hours to head out to the Pacific greater ocean area, so Albert said leaving her body tied down with anchors in the Puget sound would have to do.
And so, we dropped her. Her body quickly sinking into the dark stormy depths of the ocean below. “Well Alex, it was a pleasure working with you.”
I then turned to Gary, “You as well Gary.” There was a moment of pause as we stared at each other and I tilted my head sideways at him. Before he could reach for whatever it was he was reaching for in his bag next to his seat, I pulled out my gun and shot him right underneath his chin. He nearly tumbled over, but I reached out to grab a hold on his shirt collar and pulled him in towards me. I tossed him sideways onto the deck and then shot him once more, right in the heart just to be sure. Making quick work, I tied up his feet with another rope attaching the anchor to the rope. It took me much longer to get his anchor and him overboard, but Gary looked like he was going to kill me to take credit for the whole job.
I was not gonna let that happen. Plus, Albert suggested to me if I offed him, I’d get another fifty thousand for the job. The fewer people that were witnesses and accessories the better for him.
I then took the helm and started to turn the boat around to head back to the docks. Now I had more cleaning up to do.
Just lovely.
Hopefully, this winter rain would wash most of the blood away.
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elohveywrite · 5 years
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Glass Rose
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Glass Rose
Blinking, blinking, blinking away watery eyes.
Gritting teeth behind a tightly closed mouth.
Taking one agonizing breath after another.
Going through the motions.
Being really good at faking it through the motions.
Putting out fires because of a small piece of you that still cares how others see you.
But do you care about the reflection in the mirror?
Glaring back at you with truth and hurt.
Inhale one ragged, sluggish breath.
Repeat.
Blink away one less tear than you did yesterday.
Smile another smile that doesn't reach your eyes, and never your heart.
"Hi, how are you today?"
"Good, I'm fine and you?"
I'm lying, but maybe you are too.
Maybe we all are
But I've actually been fine before.
I remember it almost like it was yesterday, though it was years ago.
Blue and gray clouds, the sun peeking through, wheatgrass swaying in the wind.
Denim jeans, freshly braided hair.
Fresh cut green grass.
The smell of rain sprinkling with rays from the sun.
Damp dirt and fresh air.
Ignorant bliss and peace.
But with age comes wisdom, some knowledge crueler than others.
Hidden truths that can prick your skin too early.
Leaving you raw and angry--red.
Screaming, shouting, cursing rage.
It's everywhere you look and turn.
Escape is ... always temporary.
Until it isn't.
But then ... everything is temporary until it isn't.
"Hi, how are you today?"
"Numb," Is what I really want to say.
It's my new normal.
Our new normal.
I want to hold onto a dream.
But my hands are like ice.
And the dream is too warm.
So, it slips right through my hands taking a bit of me away with it.
Blink and feel the tears fall silently.
Grin and feel the fakeness.
Breathe and feel the pressure.
The pressure that can burn you from the inside out without warning.
Close your eyes and try.
Try to dream.
Dream of anything.
Until the day you can dream forever.
image credit: myself (Seattle 2017)
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elohveywrite · 9 years
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Chapter 1 of “The Imagination is a Powerful Thing”
Chapter 1
WE ALL USE TO BE SUCH GREAT FRIENDS
  I sat alone on our swing set looking through a window where my best friend sat at the dining room table. I sigh as I look at her and frown when she glances outside briefly, her gaze rolling past me. She had forgotten to play with me again. This wasn't the first time either. It was the 3,286th day Lily had forgotten about me. I'd been waiting around Lily's home for 3,287 days. Most people think that when a loved one dies, they just disappear or go to heaven or wherever they go. Not the case for me. I have stuck around like a ghost.
No one saw me, but I was always use to that. Lily was my only friend, the only person I could ever talk to when I was ... alive. Being dead was ... boring. If I could make up my own imaginary friend I would have, I thought about it--but it was not the right thing to do. So I took an alternative route. I played at our favorite spots. The park across the street, the lake near downtown, the hills near the neighborhood canal. We'd roll down the hills repeatedly until our skin was scraped and our clothes stained with grass. It was the best time of my life.
https://www.wattpad.com/story/18164659-the-imagination-is-a-powerful-thing
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elohveywrite · 10 years
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Thorn Rose
The feeling of thorns on roses prick the skin A pale bloody hand is trying to reach within The inner depths of everything that is you It wants to scoop out only your love that is true
But you profess that it can't take your love It's gone, that you have no one left to love But deep in your soul you have fleeting thoughts That you found the one, and they've been caught
Inside a web of emotion that connects to Your heart, and maybe, perhaps maybe, they have a clue But they don't love you, thorns and shadow convince you The pale hand grips tightly, squeezing blood out of you
It has hopes that you will be empty of all feeling It wants to consume you, it likes the thought of stealing Everything that is you, so a yellow sharp tooth grin will smirk And thorns rip and rip pieces of you away with only a shirk
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elohveywrite · 12 years
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Letter- Write about words, living on paper. The world that they live in and what they would do.
In his book is a life different from his own. A place that he would rather call home. A place he goes to travel, to play, to dream. A place where he goes alone.
But he wishes and hopes That maybe someday, More people will choose To come over and play.
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elohveywrite · 12 years
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Family- Talk about your family but in the form of a comparision between the dichotomy (ie adult v child, old v young , etc. )
They are just a fading breathe on the wind
We are a drop of blood in a fountain
They are frail, going, gone, pale
We are fierce, vibrant colors
They are slow, graceful, weak and wise
We are fast, brash, strong, and clumsy
They we are one and the same
They we will die and fade some day
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elohveywrite · 12 years
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Motion – Focus on something that happens while you move and make a poem around that.
Hurt. So she doesn't step. Bored. So she must step.
Move. She steps and steps. Look. She moves and sees.
Ache. So she slows down. Fear. So she moves fast.
What? So she hears then. Sound. So she steps once.
Sound. She steps that way. Sound. She steps this way.
Move. She moves to song. Song. So she dances.
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elohveywrite · 12 years
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Planets – Look outside Earth and write a story of the world beyond our reach.
Hey now, what’s that sound? Everybody is looking down. But the world is calling out to you.
Hey now, what that sound? Everybody’s looking around. The world is calling out to you.
Wind soars pass the bubble. That you keep yourself locked in. Away from the wind.
Watch now, don’t stop now. Just let that little bubble break. And you’ll open up to the world.
Oh the sound, the universe is singing. Love, sweet love, you can’t stop it now. With the world calling you. You can’t call back. You’ll try and try. But you only make a, tiny sound. A tiny sound.
Hey now what’s that sound? Everybody is looking down.
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elohveywrite · 12 years
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Clouds – Imagine a journey in the clouds and write about that.
Up here, I'm above the world. Up here, I'm on a big track. It spans miles and miles beyond. I entrust my heart, my soul, My everything, anything. To you and then only you. I'm on a dream that floats high. A dream that could bend or break. To take a chance to sore here. It looks like it is worth it.
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elohveywrite · 12 years
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Until the end – Write about something you don’t want to end.
The smiles. The laughs. The hurts. The pain. The feel. The life. The death. The thoughts. The thought. The strength. The time. The fights. The fight. The aim. The great. The bad. The bland. The bright. The sad. The sight. The sound. The noise. The smell. The food. The yearn. The love. The hate. The me. The them. The us. The you. The we. The earth. The end.
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elohveywrite · 12 years
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Fin – As with every journey, there needs to be an end. Write about the end of something.
I walk your path, which is empty yet continuous. My heart flutters only slightly since I know you're done. I see new faces that will take my place in mere days. Despite that, I walk forward with strong strides, face solid. And then I see images. Images of my past. I'm joyous, I'm free, I'm without a care in the world. Tears flow forward but do not spill. I turn away then. That's gone, but I could always go back. If there's time.
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elohveywrite · 12 years
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Prompt: Extra- Writing about an end that didn’t really end.
I look down at my calloused feet And feel the sun's heat. Beat me down. But as I look up into the Hot, flaming sky. I know I'm just A second that's meant to pass by. I might not have ended yet, but To the world, I haven't even Begun to be seen. Nor will I. I'm just a blip that thought dark thought.
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elohveywrite · 12 years
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Chinese New Year
Wordalicious Sails east this week! Read about more about it here.
Prompt:
East- Write about your eastern experience.
I stand in a crowd of people moving as one
Back and forth to drums beating strongly, proudly, and fierce.
I smell beef cooking at one stall, and duck at another.
I practice some origami as I watch an elder write my name in Chinese calligraphy.
Shiney bobbles glitter, as well as the water holding koi for sale.
They swish back and forth peacefully, colorful.
I see the dragon dancing on the stage going wild
Glowing orange with fire, rainbow of emotion.
Eyes are wild and 
Then--POP!
Confetti falls everywhere.  
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elohveywrite · 12 years
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Knowing You're Gone (Alternate Version previously a 416 word poem now 41 words)
Remember when Wordalicious began? Read about more about it here.
Prompt:
The words that was- Create any poem you want but you must only words from a piece of writing you’ve already written. You cannot add in any additional words, but you don’t have to use every word on it.
Knowing You're Gone (Alternate Version previously a 416 word poem now 41 words) When you left I thought it Funny.
Until it Was re-said, Denial.
I could not Believe this, Alarm. Suddenly I was crushed, Disconsolate. Tears fell slow Heard cries there, Silence. You will be Remembered, Always.
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elohveywrite · 12 years
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Mundane Activities
(click image for souce link)  Mundane Activities
With tired eyes I click Click-clack-clackity-clack Through sub-reddits and go To facebook to know How everyone takes life For granted, carelessly
Read, read, read, read--read, READ! Seen from the outside it's-- Undeniably it's-- Normal. But underneath  The skin, dark tendrils flex And press, scratch, whine and bite
Escape from the darkness In the daytime--don't, let Those feeling consume and Eat their way out to breathe. Read silently, escape! To another world ... please
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