#consequences of that. all she wants is to run her butcher shop in peace but this little idiot 22 yr old is going off alone to see her

[many-gay-magpies]

JENNY I LOVE YOU

[thenixkat]

HCs and OCs for a fic

Toyomitsu family: Descended from one of the first giant mutants in Japan. Tend to have monster or animal related transformation quirks in addition to being huge. Own farmland and forested areas all over the Kansai region. The family founded the Devil’s Market yakuza group which has been extremely long-running and focused on buying and selling illicit goods, general goods, and general supplies and labor for larger people. A Toyomitsu has been either the boss or first lieutenant of the Devil’s Market for as long as it’s existed. They had to move out of their Osaka base when All For One set up shop, their current main base of operations is in Esuha city. The family also runs a franchise of butcher shops across most of Japan under the name of Oni Meats which carries a vast selection of animal protein from around the world. Nearly all members of the family have prey drives from their monstrous transformations.

Ma- Manami- (Quirk) Bugbear- transformation quirk. If the user is sufficiently fat then they can transform into a hybrid bear/reptile monster. Has great senses and night vision as well as enhanced strength. Can induce fear by staring someone directly in the eyes. -->Prefers not to be involved with the less legal dealings of the family and Devil’s Market. She’s more than capable of being as much of if not more a terrifying mob boss than her little brother. She just likes farming better. -->Generally doesn’t look people in the eyes unless she doesn’t like them b/c her terror-inducing power stays active regardless of her form. She prefers not to scare folks who don’t deserve it. -->Gets on very well with her sister-in-law, if she wasn’t married she’d steal her brother’s wife. -->Met her husband in a fighting ring. She eviscerated him with her claws and he broke one of her arms and several of her ribs. They started talking while getting patched up. -->Is about 7’10” and built like a well-padded brick house. -->Is the one who judges new recruits into the gang. Tends to have them do farm work for at least a month to get a bead on their personalities.

Pa- Noel ‘Blue Devil’ Diablo nee Toyomitsu- (Quirk) Energy absorption- emitter quirk. Can absorb, temporarily store, and redirect kinetic/thermal/electric energy. Too much energy kept in the body for too long causes reckless and impulsive behavior and hyperactivity. Devil- mutant quirk. Has devil-like horns and a tail. -->Used to be a nomad b4 settling down with his strong beautiful wife. Supported himself on his travels with fighting, gambling, handyman skills, and musical skills. -->Brings nothing to the table in his household other than his good looks, good nature, and knack for fixing things and a broad range of skills. -->Holding in excess energy makes him glow blue, especially his horns. -->Loves his family just so much. Is the goofy dad and great flirty husband. -->Loved to carry his kids until they got waaaay too big for him to pick up. Stands on a char to talk to his kids and wife on their level. B/c they are just so damn tall. -->Is 6 ft tall with a strong build with very little body fat b/c of a side effect of his quirk. He gets cold easily b/c of this and it bothers his joints.

Grandpa- Ryuji ‘The Dragon/ Dread Emperor of Giants’ - (Quirk) Dragon- transformation quirk. Can transform into an eastern dragon or humanoid eastern dragon with the severity of the transformation depending on percentage of body fat. Can also control the weather. -->Controlling the weather means that his farms never have a bad year. He does sell this service on the black market through the Devil’s Market. -->Wanted to be a hero when he was young and stopped when his mom got sent to jail for vigilantism and murder for stopping a serial killer from preying on women in the community -->Retired after a betrayal from some too ambitious underlings lead to a crippling knee injury. Still acts as a source of wisdom for the family and the gang. -->Is the go-to babysitter. -->Prefers to be in his transformed state and hates the anti-public quirk use laws with a passion. -->His full dragon form is as long as a bus and can fly. His humanoid dragon form/human form (sans antlers) is 8’5”

Grandma- Akane- (Quirk) None. -->An ex-mercenary who beat Ryuji in his prime AND in his full dragon form with nothing but some rope and her bare hands. -->Very good with guns and knives -->Takes advantage of the fact that as a plump quirkless woman she tends to get overlooked by people with powers to end fuckers. -->Was the one who got rid of the over-ambitious underlings who attempted a coup against her husband. -->Is about 5’10”, very chubby, wears glasses, and is rather soft-spoken. -->Is an icon to the quirkless members of the Devil’s Market and teaches them how to fight people with powers.

Uncle- Wani ‘The Butcher’- (Quirk) Crocodilian- transformation quirk. Similar to grandpa but crocodile instead of dragon. Has a great sense of smell and hearing as well as night vision. Is bulletproof at full strength. -->A strong proponent of community defense to the point where more people came to him about community issues than go to police or heroes. He gets problems handled permanently. -->Also heavily invested in technology and occult studies to see if there was a way to make life easier for people -->Also prefers to be in his transformed state -->Caught and ate 3 quirk diagnosing doctors in the area who were trafficking children into human experimentation. Managed to rescue most of the kids. -->Was arrested and sent to Tartarus for a string of killing corrupt cops and heroes fucking around in his neighborhood. His family often visits him. -->Fell for his wife when she bet him she could drink him under the table with the loser paying the tab. She won. -->Is about 8 ft tall and at least half as wide b4 going to jail. In prison he rapidly lost weight, the family is planning a jailbreak.

Auntie- Jay ‘Jaybird/Hummingbird’ Johnson nee Toyomitsu- (Quirk) Fast Twitch- emitter quirk. A speedster type. Can move and think at superhuman speeds for a few minutes at a time every hour. Has a very high metabolism and needs to consume large amounts of food in general. -->Was a villain before settling down. Still pulls off a robbery every now and then and has a fondness for gems. -->A Black American who came to Japan to hide from law enforcement after a heist gone wrong. -->Thinks that the way people throw the word villain around to just about any fucker committing any kind of crime while using a quirk really dilutes the word. Thinks that villains need fun costumes and proper themes and intent. -->Her sister-in-law was one of the first women she’s ever met who never criticized her eating habits and she would kill for the other woman. Ride or die friendship. -->Is constantly hungry due to her speedster metabolism and has to eat a lot. -->About 5’8” and leggy with plenty of visible muscle.

Sister- Onini ‘Oni/Gargoyle’- (Quirk) Gargoyle- transformation quirk. Can transform into a stone-skinned gargoyle with the severity of the transformation being dependant on amount of body fat. Heat Sink- emitter quirk. Can absorb, store, and release thermal energy. -->Tried to become a hero but was bullied out of school -->Named after one of her mom’s friends -->Considers cousin Kenji to be effectively one of her brothers -->Became a firefighter and uses her quirks on the job even tho it’s illegal. Not like the people she’s saving are gonna complain. -->Tends to flirt with strong women. -->Actually tends to stay partially transformed b/c she likes having a tail and passes herself off as a mutant -->If she gets too hungry and loses control she can become a heat vampire and freeze things to death while feeding on their body heat. -->Spends a lot of time helping out on the farm and her mother is most likely to pass ownership of the family land to her once she retires. -->The most likely person in her generation of the family to have biological kids. --->Keeps teasing Fatgum about when he’s gonna officially adopt his interns. -->Is about 7’5” and technically is too heavy to fly but she glides pretty well.

Cousin- Kenjiro ‘Kenji/Ken/Shuten’- (Quirk) Fast Oni- transformation quirk. Can transform into an oni with enhanced speed and strength. Transforming causes his metabolism to speed up and he burns fat to stay in oni form. Has a speedster metabolism in regular form, if he doesn’t eat a substantial meal every 5 hours he starts losing weight (fat and muscle) rapidly and is consequently always hungry. -->Would love to stay in his transformed form but can’t due to the timer. -->Is jealous of Taishiro’s height and metabolism so he makes fun of the way Tai’s face looks when he’s transformed. Also jealous of Onini’s ability to not be constantly hungry. -->Is constantly hungry from the day his quirk came in and had to take appetite suppressants during puberty to keep from losing his head and chowing down on anything and anyone in reach during his growth spurts. -->Has been mistaken for Fatgum more than once due to their similar-ish size and clothing choices. It frustrates him to no end b/c he’s way darker than Tai and prefers wearing blue or white. -->Has intentionally eaten people. Most notable example being him ending a war with a rival yakuza group by capturing, butchering, and cooking the rival leader and openly serving him for dinner at the peace treaty/gang merger. -->Strongly supports Fatgum as a hero and the two combine resources to help the community whether that is through funding housing for the homeless or getting a very good tailor the resources to make clothing for specific clientele or sending the other to deal with a situation appropriately. -->Brings a knife to a gunfight b/c he’s a superstrong speedster and a gun ain’t go do shit if you ain’t got no hands. -->Thinks Overhaul is a stupid asshole b/c it’s not that hard to get blood out of a kid or train a kid to be ok with it. -->Is about 7’10” and has heard every short joke under the sun from Tai

Fatgum-Taishiro ‘Tai’- (Quirk) Fat Absorption- Transformation quirk into an uncanny valley cartoony blob man that is as strong as the amount of body fat he has. Can absorb, neutralize, or release kinetic energy. Eyes glow in the dark like a cartoon when his quirk is active. Has a great sense of taste and is incapable of feeling sated/is always hungry. Also has an extremely efficient digestive system that breaks food down in seconds. Can also convert fat into muscle as well as generally having enhanced strength and speed while transformed. -->Was a late bloomer. His quirk didn’t start coming in till he was 8 and it took a while b4 he was fat enough for it to have notable effects. -->Preferred being in his skinnier form during middle and high school due to bullying and self-esteem issues that he didn’t work through until his early twenties. -->Started high school at 5’7” (170 cm) at 14 yrs old and was 8’2 (250 cm) when he graduated at 18 yrs old. Puberty was hell and pants were his enemy. -->Had a friend in hero support who took it as a personal challenge to make him clothing that he couldn’t destroy, that would grow and shrink with him, and that he couldn’t outgrow heightwise either. Ended up inventing ‘indestructible pants’ and making bank. -->Does not have canine teeth due to a mutation related to his quirk. Does have several rows of teeth that can replace themselves like a shark’s due to the same mutation. The fuckery of his mouth is only really noticeable if he’s ‘stretching’/pushing his transformation to its fullest extent or if someone’s feeling around inside of his mouth for whatever reason. -->Does not have a gag reflex -->Has been constantly hungry since his quirk emerged and like Kenji had to take appetite suppressants during his growth spurts to keep control of himself. An asshole classmate once replaced his appetite suppressants with appetite stimulants to see what happens. Several people ended up hospitalized, Taishiro still has nightmares about it and said asshole student actually managed to get expelled. Has a restraining order against said asshole classmate who fucked off to England to be a hero there. -->Is so glad he’s done growing. Went through clothes like water when he was a teen. -->Going several days without getting enough calories in tends to activate his prey drive and he really doesn’t like that b/c heroes shouldn’t murder or maul people. Figured out this aspect when he mauled a bully after his quirk just came in and later during a survival training exercise in hero school in which he ended up eating a live bear after several days of living on trail rations (scared his teammates for life with that one). -->A lot of aspects of his costume with the bright colors and friendly mannerisms is to reduce the intimidation factor/terrifying aspects of his appearance. He is aware that in his transformed state he’s a giant uncanny valley cartoony egg man monster that can fucking absorb people into his body. -->While transformed his limb, mouth, and eye proportions are extremely fluid and change nearly at will. If he wants to his face can be entirely mouth, which he knows is terrifying to other people. His arms and legs can rubber hose it though they aren’t as strong when he does that, does mean he can grab from angles that shouldn’t be possible. -->Was bullied as a kid for being ‘quirkless’ b4 his quirk manifested and then he was bullied for being fat. It did a number on his self-esteem as a teen leading him to prefer using his thinner form as his default. -->His thinner form was considered a heartthrob in school to his frustration. Didn’t mean he didn’t take advantage of the fact people found him hot to make money or flirt a free lunch off of someone. Was in a hot guy calendar made and distributed by one of his classmates. -->It absolutely gets on his nerves when people only find his skinny form attractive. -->After graduation, he lost muscle b/c that starter hero paycheck ain’t shit and the Hero Commission refused to let him write off food costs as business expenses. Had to save his food money for patrols leading to him losing weight. -->Participated in underground fighting rings to both make some money on the side and get better at using his quirk -->Has tried Trigger b4 and carries a small vial of the good version of it just in case he really needs it one day. (Listen, you ain’t finding shit trying to pat down fucking Fatgum) -->While transformed the absorbing things into him thing is automatic, put too much pressure on the flabbier parts of his body and you’ll just sink in. It takes effort to release things and took him a while to learn how to do this as a kid. Before he learned how to release things, he’d just turn off his quirk to get things out of him. -->Was blackmailed into working for the cops after getting caught during a raid of one of the fighting rings he was participating in. Decided to be a double agent and give away info on cases to the Devil’s Market to help them stay ahead of the cops. Also blew a decent chunk of the Osaka police force’s budget on his feeding since they wanted to use him. Ultimately this is what caused the police to break their partnership with him b/c he was too damn expensive to keep on the payroll. -->Once he became decently popular he and the Devil’s Market started funding a superhero trade school to get people who otherwise wouldn’t be able to get into hero schools for various reasons trained up and educated enough to get a hero license. -->As a hero he just doesn’t enforce the dumber laws like anti-public quirk use laws b/c who cares if people use their quirks if they aren’t hurting anyone. Also prefers not to label criminals as villains unless they’ve done some truly heinous shit b/c he knows that villains get harsher punishments in the justice system. Is also a strong proponent for rehabilitation for criminals. -->Once got caught in a scandal where he and a close friend and classmate managed to get a quirkless friend of theirs enrolled in their hero school with the help of a hacker. It took months for the school to catch on, during which said quirkless friend excelled in the hero classes. Fatgum and his friend nearly got expelled when caught. Later he helps that quirkless friend get a provisional hero license to become Japan’s first quirkless hero. -->From his family history, to his accent, to his size, to his ancestry Fatgum got torn apart by the media when he first started making waves. It took years but his image as a fun friendly beloved hero won out over ‘loose canon with criminal ties who’ll probably turn villain any day now’ -->Most of his sidekicks are folks he knew in his underground fighting days or rehabilitated criminals. Sidekicks and interns from actual hero schools are picked based on both potential as well as ‘how well can you bend the law/see in shades of grey instead of black and white?’. Essentially interning with Fatgum is a long process of unlearning propaganda and a practical application of morality on a case by case basis. -->Is aware of the hornier corners of his fandom and doesn’t know how to get them to understand that death via snusnu is not a way they want to go out (“How do you know this?” “...No comment.”) and telling them that they would def either die or require medical attention only makes them hornier. He finds it distressing and tries to avoid these people. -->Only found out that his name and birthday were puns when he was in middle school. He was not pleased. His parents had a blast since they were waiting for him to figure it out. -->When transformed his face, hands, feet, knees, and elbows are the most vulnerable parts of his body. Hence the leg armor (and occasionally arm armor). -->Due to his size, he’s got a few glaring blind spots, the main one being that he simply can’t see past his belly when looking down. He has tripped over short people b4 b/c of this. At least one of his friends from school would take advantage of this when he was in his larger form to sneak up on him.

[java-induced-daymares]

"He knows about you."

There's so much weight to that sentence, for a second Miley thinks it might burry her. It's a avalanche of realization, brought to life in such a short string of vowels and consonants. Xavier is so beautiful, in a way only men can be pretty, with sharp piercing blue eyes, a sly little smirk and a fall of raven hair that always falls into his eyes, just so.

"What does that mean, I mean, for us?" She asks with a hopeful look. He has to have a plan. Right?

His long look speaks so much. It says he is sorry. That perhaps, he always recognized this possibility, but chose to ignore it. Of course he did. He always knew his other self was a sociopathic murderer, it's just her that's slow to the uptake. Miley shifts uneasily, breathing in deep, and exhaling slow and pointedly.

"What can I do?"

His wince is another answer. No one accuses Xavier of being overly wordy. Perhaps it's unnecessary, with such a expressive, eye catching face. This is probably the part of the conversation where she should regret saving this troubled, deeply erratic man. Her empathetic impulse always lands her in trouble, but this time...this time it's deadly.

"What's he like?"

His forget-me-not blue eyes blink rapidly. She's caught him off guard. Bemused by the rarity, Miley sips her dark espresso and waits for him to collect himself. It's a loaded question, after all.

"I don't..." His brow furrows and his teeth clench, "Obviously, we've never met." Her dry smirk echoes his wry sentiment. "I only see the carnage afterwards. I've never..." He clears his throat, awkward in a way only the impossibly handsome can be while being so shy and open. "I don't attach myself to people. I don't know how he will react, but I don't suspect it will be nice."

Miley feels her palms grow wet, even as she maintains her dry tone, "Is he..." She lowers her voice to a whisper, as if what she says is too dark to speak full volume, "Do you think he wants to kill me?"

Another wince from her blue eyed friend and she feels her stomach drop. Xavier is peculair, in a way more unique than his movie star good looks. Every day at seven pm he becomes someone...not Xavier. This other person, who lives and breathes in his body, who takes him over, likes to call himself Jack. Perhaps like the Ripper. It seems the sort of gruesome appeal that the theatrical killer night subscribe to. She's never asked. Xavier doesn't like to talk about him. They are always careful. Leaving no signs of interaction. Always in public, never touching, their meetings so brief they had hoped to never be discovered. But it's all for naught. Jack is too clever by half. Even Xavier is afraid of him, and he fears very little.

"I'd tell you to run, but he er-" bashful now there's a light, becoming blush on the man's high cheekbones. Xavier is dreamy. It's a wonder so many passed him by in the street, bleeding and near death, but then he didn't look nearly as appealing then. "He likes the chase. I'm afraid it'll excite him more if you do."

Miley nibbles her lower lip. Trying to digest this fact analytically. It seems so wrong, so adverse to everything Xavier, this shy handsome man who stutters around social interaction, so adorably awkward and blunt, to imagine him preying on others. Hunting humans like cattle and butchering them so candidly, with blood lust only equaled by his enjoyment. Yet of course it isn't him, not really, it's Jack. A persona she doesn't know, and has no desire to meet. Yet it seems the choice has been stripped from her. Jack knows about her. Only time will tell what consequences such a thing will bring.

The sounds and smells of the coffee shop permeate the air. Filling the tense silence with the hiss of milk being steamed, the ding-da-chink of the register popping open, the idle chatter of patrons and baristas alike. It seems so normal. So wholesome. A dreadful contrast to their illecit conversation. It hasn't really hit her yet. She means for it to. The brunette pushes her hair behind her ears and eyes her counterpart somberly.

"You have to tell me about him, it might be my only chance," she presses. Xavier baulks. He doesn't like discussing Jack. Aside from the racy headlines, she knows so little. If he hadn't had that profiler's sketch drawn of him a few months back, a face unmistakable, Miley wonders dejectedly if he would have even told her of his other half's existence. Jack is dehhabilitating to Xavier, ruination and despair. A part of him feels inordinately guilty, as if he is somehow responsible for something so beyond his control. And who could blame him? Two personalities, one body. She suspects the man before her wonders who is real sometimes, him or Jack. To her he is real, very much so, but he isn't fully convinced. Didn't expect her to believe him at his word. Logically, perhaps she shouldn't, but she feels it. Deep on a part of her where doubt can't touch, Xavier is Xavier. He couldn't kick a puppy, let alone butcher another human being in cold blood. It's hard to say how she knows this, considering they aren't so very close, have only met sporadically over the passing months. She just does. Like how she knows the sky is blue and the ocean has waves. It shocked her at first, yes, even almost repelled her, but she's made peace with that now, and that determination isn't the sort to be lightly cast aside.

""Xav," she says it like 'Xave' a shortening she only uses rarely, to keep it's intimacy from scaring him off, "Please." It's the please that does it, he sips from his hot Zen tea idly, but she can see the fine tremors in his hand he tries so hard to quiet.

His whole body sighs, and with a air of reluctant defeat he monotones, "Jack doesn't like to share. Especially me. He won't be happy to know I've formed a-" he searched for the right word absently, "attachment, outside of him. He wants all my focus. My suffering is just as important to him as his victims'."

Lost blue eyes meet her own green-hazel ones forlornly. "When we were kids, if I liked some toy, he broke it. If I got close to someone he hurt them or drove them off. He won't let this go Miley, he can't."

She nods, profuntury, trying for disinterested even as her heart pounds a frantic rhythum in her chest. She's seen the headlines. The gruesome torture and rape, the blatant violence and sickened showmanship of a psychopath making art out of corpses. Her skin needles and she fights the dizzy distortion of realizing very soon she might be facing a real monster. Not the ones of her childhood with dripping fangs and glowing eyes that hide under beds and in closets, no. This one will appear in the guise of a close friend, someone she started to feel protective of and cherish before she actually meant to. It's all very distressing.

"He takes over at seven, right?"

His sullen nod is answer enough. Miley sips her espresso, feeling the hot liquid slide over her tongue thoughtfully and hoping beyond hope it won't be her last taste. Her last time seeing her friend. Or her life. She doesn't have much of one, obviously, or else she might have not been so drawn to Xavier and his plight, but it's still her life. The only one she has. Sad to think it might not last. Ended pathetically at age twenty five.

"I want to be there."

He cringes. Actually, physically cringes. "I don't think-"

"He knows about me, you said it yourself, he likes the chase. Very predator and prey, I imagine," at his shocked grimace she shrugs, "What? I watch documentaries and cops shows. I get the idea, I think. Maybe if I'm there-"

"He won't admire your bravery, that's not how he works, it'll be like a lamb to the slaughter," Xavier immediately feels bad, she can see it as his shoulders sag, "I didn't mean-"

"No, I get it. But what else is there? You're really smart Xav," she smiles fondly, "You haven't been caught even with your picture everywhere and everything he has done. I can only imagine Jack is just as smart. Brilliant really. Even if he's a wackjob."

His hallow laugh makes her blood curdle. "Yeah, he's smart."

"Well I'm just ordinary. Regular. I don't have much cunning and let's face it I don't even know how I would run if I wanted to," she muses dejectedly, "I make minimum wage, remember? Hardly the sort of lifestyle that accommodates international flights or a life on the lam. Facing him is going to happen sooner or later. Maybe if it's on my terms he'll I don't know..." Miley rolls her eyes, "Give me a shot?"

""Okay, okay, too much optimism," she relents at his pained expression, "but I want this to be my choice. Since it seems I won't have much longer to be making them. Maybe it'll surprise him, you never know."

"I'm so sorry," Xavier looks away, uncomfortable and edgy, "You don't deserve this. You saved me, us, I guess." He chuckled self depreciatingly, "I bet you wish you hadn't."

"Nope," she pops the word, trying in vein to lighten the dark mood, her hand finds his. He startles. They never really touch. Not ever. "No regrets, you know, YOLO, and all that."

"Did you just anagram me with a Facebook catch phrase?" He's incredulous, slashing black eyebrows lifted. She giggles, bright eyes flashing.

"Maybe."

[perkoform]

By Izaak E. Wolfe

PUPILS OF THE ALCHEMIST- Preface Authors Note: “Life is for those of us whom are already dead, and if you comprehend this notion, then you too must be stuck in the ‘ether’. In unison, many of your pseudo-peers may at once begin to nod their heads, attempting to hurry along whatever point it is that you’re trying to make, because using their own thoughts is usually too mentally taxing. Following an obligatory smile with a nod whilst sprouting gleaming pleasantries such as “oh yeah, I know exactly what you mean!” with not a thought in their skull but what they’re having for lunch. Autonomous white Rabbits full of hollow, all essentially doppelgangers: Clones cut from the same cookie-cutter cloth of which Lewis Carroll pulled the wool over Alice's eyes. The very same rodents that are oft caught ‘running late’ wasting precious seconds digging holes until they fall asleep in one, killing time until they drop. You will come to know them well. The kind of under prepared, over opinionated personalities that might read through every book in an entire library just to get to the end of every sentence, staring through ripe meaning and symbolic psychic puzzles, not to ponder, or provoke thought, and certainly not to explore the realms of scribes and oracles in a place that can never be defined: understanding words merely as distractions, the kind of mind that would buy a bar napkin if it were leather-bound just so they could say they've got it on their bookshelf. These are the dreamers. They rarely, if ever, awaken. I for one, have always been of the opinion that when free from the burden of earthly interruptions the human brain starts to unlock dream like visionary experiences, Deja Voo and insights far more significant in nature and depth than what can be found tossing and turning, blurred by the restrictions of ‘sleep’. " Charles Luna Foxx 2016 

 Chapter One

 “The Heart that told no tales..” My smirk falls flat to molten hell. Disturbed by signs of life, I gasped to earth. “Ughh…” The phone was ringing. You can bet I was ignoring it. My breath smelt like I had spent Valentine’s Day French kissing an ashtray. Finding my own feet stumbling like a rigid rag-doll off my favorite chair; a heavy head was snatched from swollen hands. Temples pounding, Teeth grinding: Last night is stuck on that damned black-box flight recorder… Here, renegade neuro-terrorist’s commit espionage against their own life source. Receptor sites planning to pull the plug on grey matter that is the only thing integrating them with awareness. They will stop at nothing to destroy any and all traces of the last 24 hours. Direct orders from suits in the cerebral cortex were to “swipe magnets on the audio tapes”. Perhaps in the grip of some advanced interrogation, these sadistic rhetorical sabotage methods employed by our hideous obligatory enemies are indeed working, using some of the most effective tools of self-destruction that our hedonistic Universe has to offer, such as Amphetamines and Tennessee Whisky. Memory pulls a blank, and a glance around the study leads me to a solitary conclusion; this hangover is only just beginning to show its putrid mug shot. The stiff neck and near total absence of writing on the pile of pages beneath my jaw seems to indicate that I passed out colder than a corpse in the Arctic. It would not take the likes of “Sherlock Holmes” to conclude that I was neck deep in the narcissistic floodwaters of Moonshine misery, with not a bridge left to burn in my hearts splintered drought. After countless hours awake at the writing desk, with a brain so sore and sorry it all but caved in to intoxicant fueled hibernation: The empty bottle of Jack adjacent to my puddle of drool confirming this hypothesis. I greet today with a smile. A smile so big and fake that hopefully it conceals my gnawing sense of spite for all existence, or at least my dental plan. When I see the light it never hesitates to scorch my prying eyes, so I still wonder why people stare at shiny things like headlights to a frozen deer. Head spinning. Reeking of liquor, don’t know up from left on a compass, so bed ways is right ways right now. In a sloth like manner, I half tiptoe as if my own shadows footsteps were going to stamp out any hope that may be hiding, still virgin to the stench of bitter fate, in the far off shadows of a distant peaceful galaxy. So I tear the blinds shut, eat some sleeping pills, and before I could even say “fuck off world." BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP Slamming my fist against the ‘snooze’ button, I hissed as if there was someone listening: “..YOU KNOW I AM AWAKE YOU SADISTIC TIME KEEPING BEATBOX! Ughh!!”. With my face buried into my pillow, I try and think of one reason why I should get back out of bed. Whiskey is certainly not one of them. If I didn’t have college, I swear to GOD I would have thrown that fucking alarm clock out the window. I must admit, I became extremely depressed and aimless after the death of my father, and even though it was up to me to become the life blood of the family butcher shop (pun intended), I decided to shut the place down. I can barely get to sleep at night, especially not to wake up at 4 30 every morning to chop up bits of flesh and bone, elbow deep in entrails before midday. I couldn’t do it, and after the Dean tuned from a clockwork intellectual to madder than a fuckin’ hatter overnight... I’ve only been attending classes where the new girl sits opposite me. The rest of my lectures I frequently skip to “study” in the dark corners of the universities extensively cluttered library. It is more than coincidence that I have taken up a few of the classes that this enigmatic temptress frequents. From day one, it was apparent that she has an obsessive thirst to master any and all of the subjects she chose, with the outcome or topic seemingly being of a lesser importance to her than that of the process itself. So it was Anatomy, Biology, Chemistry, Taxidermy, Psychology, Latin, Surrealist Art, even the optional extracurricular sessions such as Cryptography and Journalism, 5 days a week. I don’t know why I didn’t drop out and get a job in the town Abattoir, the pay is good, and I don’t have a weak stomach. But I’m glad that I don’t live in that meat hook reality. Not wanting to miss a second of her company, even though we were strangers, I had a cold shower, got dressed, and hurried to the University, with a terrible headache, but the promise of a new day was not yet lost. I was haphazardly piecing together a port-folio, and I look up and our eyes met, and quickly flicked back to our “work”. There it came, and oh my, this was the first time I had heard her voice, and at once I was drowning in Ambrosia honey from the swarming beehive of my mind. “Hello” The beautiful stranger was smiling at me. “Have you seen the golden scarab??” she inquired under her breath, looking almost as if she had asked me the time… “..Oh I.. I.. Uh…I beg your Pardon?” She repeated once more, barely above a whisper. “Have you seen the Golden Scarab?” her eyes locked firmly onto mine. Unsure what she was referring to, shaking my head, “Sorry.” She blurted “Oh never mind. I was making an in joke, ha, I thought you reminded me of someone.. I’m mistaken.. How terribly rude.. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Veruka.” “Miss Veruka Luxx, I can assure you, it’s a pleasure to be met. I’m Arthur Lilly.” I replied, but she was already lost in her workbook, writing fiercely. I could read paragraphs from the corner of my eye, from where I was sitting. The paragraphs were describing in full an artistic process, subconscious snapshots, perhaps an indulgent outburst praising the randomness embraced by the paper game, “consequences”. The “Exquisite Corpse” method was used by William Burroughs and many before him. I overheard her mumbling, something about synchronicity, and something in a language I failed to recognize, whilst preparing a short film required for an assessment. My contribution was just footage of life-prisoners from Alcatraz, back before the rock was broken and became yet another unkempt piece of tourist crap floating in the San Francisco Harbor, I thought it was intriguing, In between 1943 and 1945 surgeons experimented on the murderers of murderers, the rapists of rapists, Lobotomizing the prisoners and then put half of the test subjects in isolation with food and water and half in a cell with a wilting rose in a vase and no drinking water. The lobotomized inmates with food and water refused to eat or drink or sleep until they died, using all conscious energy to claw at the walls.…The other half, refused to watch the rose die, every time the thorns were bare and the petals fell, wilted, the inmates burst into a fit of grief, crying their eyes out until their tears found the cuttings…. and the rose returned to vibrant health, bringing a smile to their face, and that, right there, soppy bullshit aside, the prisoners with roses managed to see the flower through its cycle, like clockwork, when those petals returned, those inmates were found dead with a smile on their face. I liked the contrast, but spliced the footage poorly and overdubbed readings from the novel “The Diving Bell and The Butterfly.” Everyone in class was looking through the projection screen behind me with a thousand yard stare, and “Thank you Mr. Lilly. Now Mr. West, Your presentation is up next.” Mr. Peaslee boomed from his desk as I returned to my seat. My eyes were back on the strange Veruka as my new accomplice lent forwards and said softly, “Alcatraz Island has some incredible wildlife, but that rose is one of the rarest in the world….. One of.” I nodded, “There are some divine books on all kinds of sacred ornamental plants in the Vulshwaltz wildlife section, I have to return some after class and choose my reading for the week. Perhaps you would like to join?” I said, as charmingly as possible. She looked me right in the eye “Really?!” she said with a wicked grin. “I’ve not been too welcomed by the other students… I’ve been so lost while trying to get to know the Campus that the Library has thus far been untraceable! I need a new friend who can show me around actually..” Veruka laughed, I was transfixed by lust and just as I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could stumble over even one syllable, the bell rang out and class had been dismissed. “Oh, what!? You haven’t seen the Vulshwaltz Library at all yet!?” “No! I hear it’s like a literary maze though. I’d be delighted to get lost in the ‘History’ section with you anytime you like! If you’ve got no plans for lunch, you could even take me there right now, Mr. Arthur.” Her smile was intoxicating. I grabbed my school satchel, and we walked towards the door. “Well Miss. Luxx, only a fool could refuse such an honest request! Right this way my friend.” And with that, we walked down the corridor. Her pupils were gleaming behind her glasses, but for a second as they caught the light, In my mind, a golden scarabs reflection, scurried away. We stood still for a second as we exited the halls and I took great delight in Veruka’s excitement as it was her first time in this room, seeing hundreds and thousands of books, billions of pieces of peculiar information bursting at the seams. Dusty, leather-bound manuscripts, with instructions to decipher every language and symbol that is of use to mankind and even a few hundred pages of thus far indecipherable ancient tongues or perhaps the quotes of modern day secret societies, encrypted in plain sight. There are countless impressive Libraries in the World, But there’s only one of the “Vulshwaltz Vaults”. The lights hang down from the ceiling in glass flowers, downward like Belladonna Atropa flowers. I’m not sure if the “Deadly Lampshades” are there because of the irony, that old saying that everyone who works in a Library goes “mad as a Hatter”, or simply because the architects of our massive University had some, dare I say, questionable influences? “oh my goodness! Those Nightshade light fixtures are something out of Bella Lugosi’s wet dreams! Ahah!” Miss Luxx grinned in astonishment. “One almost wishes they were real, except for the fact that we would all be dead!” A cold, stern voice hissed back “They ARE real” the voice continued “and you ARE dead precious.” Of course, I knew this voice to be our very own, very proud, and equally VERY strange Librarian, Mrs. Nancy N. Escher LaTrisk. “I’m sorry?” Veruka said slowly. “The Flowers are real. They’re as real as any other lampshades, don’t you know?” Explained Mrs. LaTrisk, taking a sip of her tea “and you must be dead my dear! The last of Mr. Peaslees’s students never got to see graduation because they were all bored to death!” she said, turning the hourglass on the desk in front of her upside-down. “Mr. Arthur Lilly! I was under the impression your mother taught you manners!” Mrs LaTrisk was smiling at me. “OH! Of course! This is my new classmate and I’d have to say I’d take her as a friend over most of the chaps, Miss Veruka Luxx! I see you’ve spotted our humble Librarian, Mrs. LaTrisk!-“ “My name is Nancy Neri Escher LaTrisk, The boys call me Mrs. LaTrisk, But you can call me Nancy darlin’, Seeing as I’ll be calling you by your first” There was an awkward silence, at which point Mrs. LaTrisk drank some tea and exclaimed “anyway, Busy busy, always work to be done..” and she turned her attention to a copy of ‘Hidden Faces’. “oh yes, Mr. Lilly, your order arrived yesterday. It’s on my desk next to the typewriter” A brown paper satchel contained my new copy of ‘The Strange case of Dr. Jeckll and Mr. Hyde’. “Magnificent! Gracious Mrs. LaTrisk” “Righto, Well.. my oh my.. strange woman. Arthur, Is there anywhere we could sit and talk in private?” Miss Luxx blinked rapidly as a cool breeze swept through the room. As we walked deeper and deeper into the cacophonous life sized maze that Mrs. LaTrisk refers to as the “Bermuda of Books”, we found ourselves indeed lost in the history section. Veruka was pointing out a small window in the wall; she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a small gold telescope, and beckoned me to have a look, directing my gaze to a plume of smoke funnelling out of a chimney in the most beautiful house on mount Titan. “Exquisite telescope Miss. Luxx, Where did you get it?” I said, intrigued. “Oh this is one of the smaller ones; I have a collection of telescopes in my study.” She looked through the eyepiece “I like to keep the fireplace on while I’m at Vulshwaltz so when I get back all tired it feels like home.” “That’s where you live?” my jaw dropped. “You live in a mansion?” “My grandfather’s in hospital so I’m taking care of the property. You should come and have a few drinks with me tonight. Otherwise it’s just me, the animals, and a big empty house...”

Chapter two 

-Perpetual Vermin in the Illusion of Time and Space- “Le cadavre exquis boira le vin nouveau.“ I fumbled for notepad, attempting to look as if I were paying attention. The lecture was nearly over, and the bell would allow our dismissal from class no doubt very soon. I sat watching the clock hands go sloooowwwwllllyyy around from the corner of my vision, scribbling on my page a crescent moon, and the more I scribbled, it seemed the lecture were as if I was listening to it from a great distance. The blood drained out of my head, the ceiling pushed towards the sky, along with a room full my peers rendered brain-dead while the tables where they sat began to stretch and contort like a perpetually elongating hallway. A half a minute could last two million years.. Perish the thought. Sometimes I wonder just what exactly Salvador Dali mind had the persistence to remember behind his wild eyes as they observed a slice of camembert cheese melting in the sun. I glance quizzically at the empty chair to my right, “where in the hell is she?” I wondered. Her absence made me oddly uncomfortable. The divine and peculiar Veruka Luxx been my best friend for more than year now, but she remains as much of an enigma as when I first came to know her. Veruka and I, one could rightfully assume, shared a peculiar fascination in what would be most certainly considered taboo by the majority of our society. Veruka has a profound affection for Taxidermy, stuffed and preserved animal corpses, not to mention her absurd obsession for the languages and customs of ancient and lost civilisations. Our interest in all living creatures was naturally mirrored by our fascination for the “process of death”, the afterlife, the before life, and the possibility to reanimate the corpses of the deceased shortly after dying, using a customised injectable solution. We had killed, maimed and also reanimated the bodies of several rabbits, stray cats, rats, and guinea pigs, some even with promising results if the subjects managed to survive the process of animation for more than a few minutes. We have been a tad over absorbed in our little projects recently, and the nature of these experiments warranted my cause for concern. Luxx and I spent nearly all of our spare time engaged in “Staring at the bottom of the fountain of youth”… Yes, I suppose that’s one way to phrase it. Among other things her devotion to the subject of reanimating a multitude of deceased creatures knew no bounds, which fuelled my fascination and desires to assist her secret studies and to cover our trails all the more, from anyone whom might happen to have otherwise stumbled across our secret laboratory. Both Veruka and I were honorary students at the Vulshwaltz University in the town of Atlas, a rather expensive college, with infinite halls, chandeliers, libraries, top of the line science equipment (which we had slowly constructed our laboratory from, one beaker at a time, considering we were so trusted by Dean Allen Halsley himself, that he authorized us to stay behind to clean, autoclave and pack away every single piece of glassware unattended after classes, and the school had so many resources they didn’t appear to even ponder all the bits and pieces of “written off” laboratory hardware that the faculties staff would immediately replace.) Between the windowpanes were the endless paintings spaced perfectly evenly across the tall walls of the corridors, depicting everything from the Salem witch trials, The sun god Ra making his rounds in the minds of Egyptian painters and sculptors, and more typical of a white collar institution, images of decadent Kings and Queens from centuries otherwise mostly forgotten (all of them remarkably pale or blood red in the face, It often bemuses Luxx and myself to liken King Henry VIII’s face to that of a plump tomato ripe to burst. God awful inbred monarchy.) I look up from my scribbling, and she’s standing right next to me snickering at my absent mindedness, I wonder how long she had been standing there? The classroom is completely empty, and the clock tells me that the bell rang out about 15 minutes ago.. “Ground Control to Major Tom!?” She said with a smirk. “It’s time to go” “Where on earth have you been!” I croaked, flustered. “You scared the shit out of me, I thought something must’ve gone wrong” “Well” Luxx rolled her eyes, for a moment I could see my pupils reflecting back at me in hers, and a shiver went up my spine. “I’ve finally tracked down a recently deceased Human subject on which we can test my new formula.. Grab your things.” Her smile was both unsettling and comforting. We cleaned the science room, we cleaned the condenser, separatory funnels, catalyst reaction vessels, test tubes and various beakers, and using the key that the Dean entrusted us with, we opened the Haz-Chem safe, removed a couple of necessary precursors and once the classroom was packed up and tidy, Miss Luxx steered my attention to her unusually playful state of mind. We soaked in the evening as we began heading home bound, the place I had come to know as home, our humble abode, a sprawling property which Luxx was taking care of for her grandfather while he was in hospital. From the dust to the trees which touched the clouds, to the house that we had been using to conceal our gruesome experiments on deceased creatures which we would catch and put to death before attempted reanimation of their cadavers, sometimes yielding no result, sometimes a few unnatural flinches and as with most of our more “fortunate” incidents the creatures would turn rabid and rip their own bodies to pieces, after attacking anything in sight… But we pushed on, Luxx insisted that it was a simple matter of getting the right blend of synthetic compounds into the next formula, and something told me she was right. We left Vulshwaltz by foot, and with every step, the sun would sink deeper into the horizon, until at last we scaled the base of the mountain. It wasn’t long at all before I could see 54 rue du Chateau. The finest piece of architectural indulgence on the whole of the mountain, I bet her grandfather must’ve been proud, having built it by hand, brick by brick, brushstroke by brushstroke. Obviously, it was both mine and Veruka’s favorite place in all of Atlas, except for the Cemetery and the Library at Vulshwaltz. Overcome by dizziness, I was quick to catch my breath but for a peculiar moment, I almost thought these feelings of Deja Voo were rising to my attention as a hint that maybe this, right now, could all be just a dream. Then I remembered that even nightmares are more inviting than what lays in wait. As Miss Luxx explained what would be our plans for the evening, I unpacked our bags and polished a new glass beaker I had stolen for the lab. We headed upstairs for the attic, and my dear friend grabbed a spoon from the kitchen. Like ruby wine in flickers of the moonlight, I watched her lips tremble as she spoke. She weighed out precisely a quarter gram (250 milligrams to be exact) of our new silky powder and mixed it up. Luxx jabbed the needle in my arm and pulled back red, as I volunteered to Ginny pig our new batch of Amphetamine Salts. Suddenly I could feel a lightning storm pounding through my temples, as all of the blood rushed to my head, Luxx gave me a sickly smile, there was no denying we were both high as all fuck and I could not follow most of what she was saying because she was talking so fast and her eyes were utterly intoxicating. She stopped speaking mid-sentence, seemingly out of nowhere grabbing me by the neck and before I could blink she had pushed me up into the corner of the Attic, and with an incredible lust, our lips locked, and tongues entwined. My heart must have skipped a seismic thud, for this is the first time we stepped beyond the boundary of friends, and essentially the first time I had seen Luxx’s passion flare up for anything that still had a heartbeat. “Well, that certainly got your attention. Hah!” She smiled. I was breathless. “Work first, fun later, Hmm?” She looked me up and down. With that, she turned on her heels and took me to the false wall we had fitted in-between the cluttered, dusty Attic, and the hidden door to our surgical laboratory. She opened it and flicked the lights, revealing a lifeless figure stretched out on a long white table. Luxx, I could tell, was getting terribly nervous about something. The recently deceased human subject that Veruka had acquired was a frail old woman, whose face was extremely pale and the shade of blue that her lips had turned indicated that she had been dead since at least this morning. “Well well well! This is charming Luxx! Just fucking charming!” I mocked. The smell of necrotizing flesh was already near unbearable. “And what the fuck happened to her I wonder??” Luxx cleared her throat, “Well, hmm. It has been a long day indeed. Her family live not a great distance from here, I’ve known her son Edward for many years. As I was picking through my books before our late afternoon science class, studying the lineage of Queen Nefertiti when all of a sudden there were tremors on my doorstep accompanied by the deranged howling of what I presumed to be a badly injured German Shepherd. I rushed outside to find the howling was coming from an old woman writhing gruesomely in the mud on my driveway.” Shaking her head, Miss Luxx beckoned for one of my cigarettes. “I recognized the unfortunate Witch as Edwards mother, phoned his uncle immediately to alert him of the situation and ask if I could be of any medical help, as she was by now curled up twitching on my porch, grasping for dear life. He told me that she has been slowly going mad for years and by his voice… Well I could tell it had been driving him to drink, because he was slurring his concerns and at the same time attempting to hit on me. So as the family could not contact a competent doctor because of the particularly fatal strain of Flu that’s becoming somewhat of an epidemic in town recently, and screaming and delusional as she was when she arrived, the old woman appeared to assume an almost catatonic state of consciousness all in a matter of minutes, at the same time I could hear snoring on the other end of the receiver so I furiously hung up and carried her inside to my guest room, soon she was fast asleep after seemingly having made a miraculous recovery from her primitive psychotic episode.” With the upbeat melancholic chirp of a pessimist, I butted in “….And then?????” with an eyebrow raised above a bloodthirsty smirk, almost puzzled by my own sincerest solemn sarcasms, Luxx sighed “Her son Edward was suddenly knocking at the window, he said nothing except that he would stay by her side no matter what… Knowing I could trust Edward not to snoop around the house, I was beginning to ready myself for the back to Vulshwaltz, because I just needed your comforting presence after the intensely unexpected chain of events, by now I knew I was too late for class, but that was the lowest of my priorities. The incident seemed to reach an almost level of calm, but at that exact moment, the phone rang just as I was leaving home…. all I could hear was static noise and maniacal laughing in the earpiece….. Shrugging it off, I hung up just as Edward eerily called to me from the guest room. He emerged looking as though he had already long since mourned for his dear mother’s sanity, almost with a sigh of relief he said softly that she had just then passed in her sleep. I hid my smile behind gritted teeth… Mentioning that his uncle has already drunk away his inheritance, Edward also happened to mention, to my utter delight, that her final will declared that after death, her corpse was to be donated for the purposes of science, and because Edward has been a close neighbor for years, it goes without saying that he had already become well aware of my overachieving at University, The backlog of Anatomical Knowledge that propelled my status from a nerdy exchange student to an ‘Honorary’ Teachers Pet, not even mentioning the Deans trust in my ‘responsibilities’, …anyway, you can guess that it wasn’t very long at all before I had convinced Edward to go home to try and get some rest. He said his farewells under the impression that I had already arranged a hearse to Vulshwaltz’s medical research facility…. But after he left, I just hauled the lifeless bitch upstairs and rushed into town to find you so that we may finally take our experiments to the next frontier of reanimation…. To bring about the strange state of existence known as “Life” back to a completely rigid, non-responsive, breathless human cadaver…… “ The lovely Veruka Luxx burst out into hysterical laughter, unable to wipe the smirk off her divine face. Slightly disturbed, and still unable to stop thinking about Luxx’s soft and tender lips, all the while trying desperately to ignore the smell of the dead woman whom we were about to attempt to bring back from the spirit realm, to once again, in some post-mortal fashion, walk among the Taxpaying, Booze-Addled piles of flesh and bone, most commonly recognized as the “Living”. Apart from not being much good for conversation, the main difference between that of the “deceased persons” and of their more animated, opinionated, compulsively breeding counterparts, the “Living persons”, is simple. One has completed their cycle and has joined the “Land of the Dead” for the rest of eternity, while the other is still absorbed in the comparatively temporary distractions of day to day humdrum human emotions; From Serenity to Fear, From Kinship to Solitude. How fucking poetic. I’m to sober for this. Too much is never enough… My thoughts were racing. The air seemed to be getting thicker… “Hmm… The body’s whereabouts shouldn’t arouse any suspicion as long as no-one else in Atlas knows about her death, and provided her family doesn’t speak to anyone regarding her disposal requests” I said hastily “which I imagine they would not have any need to mention as a casual conversation topic to anyone of importance…. then we’re in the clear… Quick thinking by the way, my darling.. Any fresher and you could skin the fat off her and sell it down the butchers as offal.” I scoffed. Smiling dryly in acknowledgement, her eyes met mine and then looked quickly down at the tip of a .3 ml syringe that she had filled to the brim with a concentrated solution of her new “embalming concentrate” as we had deemed them), and I began preparing a large vein on the side of the woman’s neck for injection, as the solution had to enter the blood stream as CLOSE to the brain as possible. Luxx impatiently yet precisely performed the injection while I checked the cadaver for any vital signs of life. We waited for an hour, and Luxx mixed and injected more solutions into the subjects’ neck relentlessly. Just as we were preparing to admit failure, call it a night, and throw her corpse into the incinerator, without a seconds notice the old woman’s eyes darted open WIDE, and she let out the most ear-drum piercing blood curdling screams, wailing and screeching imaginable, far too unearthly for any human to possibly conjure the sound in their most depraved nightmares, let alone the breathless lungs of the dearly departed. Suddenly the undead subject stood up, froze stiff again, and fell on the floor with several liters of blood rapidly gushing out of her eyes, nose, mouth and ears. I gasped, unable to muster a word, and was frozen with fear. Luxx just shook her head, rolled her eyes and groaned with failure, she snapped. “Fuck.. Fuck.. Fuck… I think perhaps next time we should wait, at least another hour, before re administering the formula. I’ll put the incinerator on so we can dispose of her remains quickly.” Luxx leaned toward me and kissed me on the cheek. I stood, bewildered, horrified, and shivering. “Oh.. What a waste” I blurted, Naturally questioning my beautiful associates mental stability, but as my faith in her was still unshaken by the gruesome occurrence, I began to question my own sanity… As Veruka turned up the furnace to its highest setting, near 2000 degrees Fahrenheit, she hummed along to an unknown yet strangely familiar tune, and the impromptu cremation of our elderly lab-rat was complete…… not much is left of that wrecked atrocity save a red hot pile of ashes. Attempting to appear un-phased by the evening’s festivities, I mopped up ankle deep pools of fresh human blood from our laboratory floor, as thoughts of what consequences lay in wait for us if we were ever to be caught grew steadily more grim and unavoidable, all the while, Luxx’s near total and complete disregard for such consequences proceeded to add entire Galaxies of increasing volatility to the already crumbled fault-lines of rationality and common sense… I was trapped aboard a sinking ship of her obsessions, pulling me into an Ocean of demise that was overflowing with my own poisoned curiosity’s, and it would be Veruka herself, who unwittingly sealed my fate with a kiss…. Run, Rabbit, Run… Because when you’re walking such a very fine tightrope of morality, whilst attempting to survive on a steady diet of endless hedonism, there is simply no time to slow down.. On that note, Veruka and I sat by the fireplace, drinking tea into the morning. Something I can’t shake about the look in the old bats eyes, embedded into my memory, will forever gnaw at me. I’ve seen that soul sucking glare before. For a second I was lost in the void of her pupils, the cry of the storm, and as I looked out from the old woman’s vacant stare, I actually was looking up at myself the moment blood poured from her every orifice. I was shocked, trembling, sweating, and whiter than a sheet. Looked as if I’d seen a ghost, a fucking Kodak moment... With every second, it seemed further in the past, until all I saw was my drug-devouring Morticia Addams, My Venomous Vixen…. Veruka was snuggling up next to me on the rug in front of her fireplace, and I feel her jab another shot of speed into my arm…. No warning…!?!??!!!!!! ….my vision trembles wildly…. Before I could even think, she is laughing and taking off her dress. Always an ice-cold intellectual machine; a vixen, brunette, green eyes and spectacles…. Even with a frozen heart like hers, I’d still be willing to bet my life that she could keep me warm in Hell…..