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the-dread-head-bitch-blog · 5 years ago

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//cw, sexual harrasment, drug abuse

I whirled around, staff firmly in my hand, meeting face to face with my least favourite comeback story, Cerberus. No, not the literary dog from Greek mythology, but a girl, three girls actually. One --who looked almost indistinguishable from a normal human-- stood with her arms placed on her hips with such a snarky attitude it made me want to punch her in the throat, the other two were less composed. The one to her right was a shade of blue. her skin was cold and cracking, and she was wailing and blubbering completely inconsolable, Melpomene. The opposite was completely the contrary, laughing and giggling, and snorting with an insane amount of joy and parody. Thalia --as she was called-- was privy to the world's biggest joke and as such, her skin was almost a gold, shimmery and sunny. That's why she was called Cerberus. They were all her, her soul torn asunder from something or someone in her past.

"Look whose talking, huh Cerberus?" I spat blood at her since my nose hadn't stopped bleeding entirely and Melpomene only cried louder and Thalia skipped over to play with my black and blue mohawk. when I slapped her shimmering hands away like a fly, she settled for gawking at it and giggling “it’s so pointy!” in my ear like a schoolgirl. “If I remember correctly, you’ve been hiding on the underside of a rock since we split, so why are you showing your cockroach self in the sunlight now?” I finished to Cerberus. “Yeah well, even cockroaches need to eat. I‘ll be honest, I didn’t plan on ever seeing your ass again, but, what are you going to do? life is shitty and people show up when you don't want them to.” We laughed bitterly and settled on an almost comfortable silence. It was weird seeing her again, her dark brown locks curled in ringlets around her face and she had bangs that outlined her cold resolute green eyes. “Well, anyway, I'm off to find a new human to suck the life out of, so I better get going. Thalia, Melpo, let’s go!” Cerberus made an indication for her two other thirds to follow her, Thalia danced her way over while Melpomene hung her head low, her dark blue curly hair covering her expression but not muffling her weeping in the slightest, sauntered in close proximity of the other two, looking for place after place to buckle and cry more.

I shook my head at the three of them. I reflected on when I had found Cerberus, she used to be a Shade and when she had graduated to Inbetweenling --if you can call it that-- she didn't know who she was. She was constantly trailing after Meplo and Thalia, wiping away Melpomene's never-ending tears, trying to keep up with Thalia's manic moods is exhausting, she existed to serve them. It took a long time before she understood that she didn't need to serve anyone, including herself if she didn't want to. That was before she fucked me over and showed that because she wasn't forced to care about anyone, she chose to care about no one. “Dodged a bullet there Xandra." I grumbled.

I threw my hands up over my head, groaning loudly as I stretched my back and smirked at the sun I couldn't feel on my skin. The likable thing about not existing is that I had no responsibility, so long as I was well juiced up, I could do as I wished for as long as I please. “Stunning day isn't!” I beamed at the passerby human man, with a plain cream t-shirt and 5 o’clock shadow, while I waltzed down the city center of Calgary. The sun was glistening and it was early September, meaning we had loads of days of nearly summer-like weather left. (not that I can feel a damn thing, but, the sun is lovely you know?) “Splendid weather we are having!” I shot at the elderly lady waiting for the bus, she looked to be at least ninety-four, her hair white and thin, but she was sporting a red lipstick that I imagine she has been wearing since she was as young as the teens that were headed my way. I made finger guns at them, but since they are real people with real lives, they strolled right through me, roaring with laughter and talking with each other and disappearing from earshot while they went on living. I hopped a bus and went to the movie theatre, watched a good slasher horror film and laughed at all the inaccurate details, following that, went to the farmers market and thought about how nice it would be to buy some food and eat it, or even maybe change clothes, or fucking try on a hat if I was feeling wild. “Is this ethically sourced wool, Margret?” I said accusingly at the young lady at her booth displaying hand made scarfs and other knitted apparel. I almost tried to touch it but decided that feeling sad was for little bitches like Melpomene and moved on. Finally, when I was tired of being invisible, I found a dive of a demon bar and went in.

The air was packed, dense with the smoke of cigarettes, cigars and drugs. I inhaled deeply trying my hand at a second-hand pick-me-up, and the taste of potent demon booze settled on my tongue and made its home there. The dins and odour of sex filled my head and I made my way into the blackness driving through demons and anything else that would be caught dead in a place like this. Mouth salivating for one of the many vices that were at the edge of my fingertips, I perched at the bar and flagged down the bartender, a foxy piece of ass with her jet black hair up in a high ponytail and eyes that said: “don’t fuck with me.” “What can I get you?’ is what she actually said and I flung some ancient money on the bar and grunted. “The strongest thing I can get with that.” “You want booze or drugs?” “What the fuck did I just say, the hardest thing I can get with what I gave you, I don't give a flying fuck in the ninth circle of hell what it is.” I spluttered and used a damp napkin to wash the now hard and crusty gore off my face. Demon bitch rolled her eyes at me but vanished from sight, emerging a few minutes later with some drugs that looked like meth, but I knew it wasn’t. It was Angel Dust. No, not PCP, actual fucking Angel Dust, I mean, this shit was probably synthetic but hey, a rose is a rose. “Hell yeah! You fucking pulled through, sorry I was such a fucking bitch to you--” “Yeah take your fucking drugs and go, Inbetweenling.” she hurled the bag and some eye drops on the table and I greedily seized it and went into the sea of souls looking for a pleasant quiet nook to settle in.

I found one in the back corner, rammed between an orgy and what looked like a wannabe kingpin Demon. I closed the sheer drapes and relaxed on the bench and arranged the dust on the table, then I didn't move for a second. no, I wasn't having second thoughts I just, I'm not really sure why I hesitated honestly. Kicking myself for wasting time, i dug into the bag and pulled out a little crystal, my fingers coated in the powder, i popped it in my mouth and stored it under my tongue, rubbed the dust collected on my fingers into my eyes followed with the eye drops the bar bitch had provided me with.

It kicks in pretty quickly, after fifteen minutes of stillness and gazing at the table, I began to notice little specks of sand all over the table. "This fucking place is filthy!" I shouted. I swept my palm over the table, mindful to not take my drugs with it. To my wonderment and disgust, I didn't wipe anything away, in fact, the sand grew, sparkly and brighter, until the whole table was shimmering and gleaming, beautifully. I giggled, trying to play with the glitter and when I could, I whispered, "I'm real." I laughed louder now, I brushed my face, my skin feeling warm and soft. That was when my eyes swirled to the back of my head, and the high took me. I remember smiling, then chuckling because my cheeks hurt from grinning. i remember the bar lady serving me some glittery putty to fiddle with, but most of the night was black.

Days, hell possibly even months passed by, I couldn't fucking tell you, I told you what I remember. What I can tell you for certain is I didn't leave that booth until the baggy was dry. But when it was empty I felt like shit, like real hot garbage. I stumbled my way out of the bar, the angel dust come-down kicking me hard in the ass. As I found the door and stepped outside and tripped over the curb stumbling into the street. After a few seconds of struggling, I eventually reacquired my inner gyroscope and started walking a little more straight. "Even cockroaches have to eat." I snorted cynically and made my way by bus to the suburbias. It was late when I got to a neighbourhood that felt like it would have someplace to feed. If you live long enough as an Inbetweenling, you can start to sense misery, and I had a fifteen-year tenure under my belt, so my radar was pretty spot on. It was a quiet night and I wandered down the center of the street, humming softly to myself.

"Looky here boys, looks like we found a hot piece of ass wandering through our neighbourhood." A voice cut through the stillness from behind me, followed by a chorus of sickening laughter from two other men. I turned slowly and tightened my grip on my staff. I had to be quick about this, three of them, one of me, I wasn't gonna outfight them. "Hey boys, I'm pretty sure the hot piece of ass went behind that house over there, after her!" I pointed behind them. To my astonishment, the two goons turned around. Swivelling their stupid heads with a, "huh?" The leader didn't so much as flinch, but two outta three isn't bad and I took off sprinting, darting into a wall inside a quiet house.

It was dark indoors, and I assumed that meant that everyone was sleeping, but I didn't stay for long, phasing out of the back wall and into the home next to it, which was equally as eery. I heard "this way!" From in the distance and hopped another house and shooting up the stairs into the first bedroom I noticed.

A little girl's room, pink with castles and princesses and stuffed animals littering every inch of the space. The night light illuminated everything --but myself-- settling on a little girl, curled up in bed, crying softly. I settled next to her bed and watched her, slightly feeling lucky to be getting her essence, and the rest of me desiring to comfort and soothe her 'till she felt better, being a girl is hard. Her breathing stayed so quiet, I noticed myself holding my breath just to listen to her. I abruptly heard the demons in the level below me, scuffling and speaking and I held my breath for a different reason, not moving a muscle hoping they would think I kept house hopping and move on. They did, I heard the leader say "she can't keep house hoping she is going to get tired, let's go." “You got it Kingston!” And then silence. I laughed in my head about the irony of the leader's name. I still dare not move, I lingered with the girl for another few minutes before wordlessly rising and heading for the door but I turned and looked at the crying girl one more time as I still remember my own mom coming in to comfort me and love me I was a human child. “Sweetheart isn’t she?” the smell of alcohol and god knows what else oozed over my shoulder and I leaped forward and whipped around flourishing my staff expecting to catch someone in the face. The leader caught my stick with his free hand, I slid my emergency knife out of my boot and tried to catch him on the off swing, and I got him good on the cheek. He let go off my staff and I whirled with that again, stabbing forward and catching him in the gut and shoving him out the door. The second he was gone, I held my breath and closed my eyes, willing for myself to fall through the floor, as soon as I felt my self dropping I sucked in air and crash-landed on the first floor. The two goons were down here. “Fuck!” I cursed and turned and fled into the street, only the leader hopped out the wall from the second story persisting after me. He was hot on my ass and I tried to hit him with my stick again but he was too fast for my tricks and ducked catching me on the off swing and definitely breaking my nose. The goons caught up to us, and I flailed again with my staff and then the knife, but I was weak, misery starved and my nose fucking hurt after getting fucked up twice today. I'm not a badass, and I'm a shitty fighter. I backed up, keeping them at bay with my staff, swinging it wildly and yelling hoping to every fucking god that someone would hear me and help. The thugs surrounded me and I started just swinging my staff over my head, snarling in an animalistic tone, blood running through my teeth, bubbling as I forced my jagged and exhausted breath through them. “Back the fuck off,” I warned them, but they were persistent. Finally, Kingston stepped into the circle I had made for myself and when the staff hit him with a weak ‘Thunk.’. The other two closed in, wrapped one arm around my neck and the other around my waist. “Let’s take this somewhere more private,” Kingston said in a low voice, and I started to screech. I screamed like their cold stiff hands were ember coals, burning me, wept like I was begging for someone to give me a fucking break, for once. We shuffled into an alley, I kicked and went dead weight, in the end, the goons just picked me up and dragged me into the darkness. Where my voice went horse and in the coming hours would stop working altogether.

I wanna say, that we got back there and they were disadvantaged because they couldn't see and I fought them off. Or I got out of their arms and escaped under the cover of night. Fuck I would settle with, they robbed me and broke my legs. But I know and I think you know, that demons only wrestle women to back alleys for one reason, I want to tell you this has a happy ending, but I'm not a liar.

//like it, if you like, and comment if you didn’t like. thanks in advance!//

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the-dread-head-bitch-blog · 5 years ago

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Who am I? The question itself has stumped many a philosopher in the long history of humanity. So I guess, I will start with what I am not. I am not human. I used to be, a very long time ago, but now, I'm somewhere in between a Demon and a Shade, a Demon being higher up in the hierarchy, and a Shade being lower. I'm nobodies bitch, but I am not calling the shots by any stretch of the imagination. I am not a good guy. I know that I'm the hero of this story, and naturally your supposed to be rooting for me and cheering me on no matter what, so I'm telling you now, your going be cheering on some rather fucked up shit --for lack of a better phrase-- and I just need you to be ready now, so I don’t have to coddle you the first time shit metaphorically (or literally) hits the fan, and your feeling displaced. I am not a badass. yes, I did say there would be badass fights, and there will be. But I am not going to be in the middle of them. I am here to survive, not kick ass. Finally, I don’t have a happy ending. I don’t think I need to rant about this point, I feel like you have a good grasp on the situation here, so on with the narrative.

Anyway, this girl was sobbing on her couch and I was sitting awkwardly in the chair next to her. Of course, she can't see me, being a creature stuck between existing and not, most people of the waking world just tend to not see what wisps of reality my ‘soul’ can cling to. In layman's terms, I'm invisible to most people. But, that doesn’t mean I don't have a job, I do have one, I really simple job.

See, my existence is kept conceivable because of something that humans do when they express really strong emotions, more importantly, negative ones. Basically, their energy surges and anything that is close by, can harness this force and use it to keep from slipping through the cracks and vanishing forever. Theoretically, if you had enough of it, you could bring an Inbetweenling --that's what we call ourselves-- into reality, but with every second we aren't sucking more existence juice in, we are expending it out, so you would need an extreme amount, and humans can be powerful, but not that powerful. So, we cling to people in times of great unease and suck as much emotional life force from them until they eventually get over what was making them feel so strongly, and then we move on. Kind of a bottom feeder life. But hey! At least I'm not anyone's personal slave!

Karen, as I learned my human's name is, is going through a bad breakup, turns out her fiance cheated on her with her twin sister. That's enough to put anyone over the edge, honestly. She hasn't stopped crying in almost a week, and to be frank, I was feeling great. Bad things happen to Inbetweenlings that don't keep juiced up on energy, and I have no interest going down that path. Alternatively, bad things happen to Inbetweenlings who become so absorbed in their human's pain that they become manifestations of that despondency and in extreme cases completely forget who they used to be and instead become a never-ending vortex of shitty feelings built up on whatever shitty thing that happened to someone. Because of this, I try to keep a general disinterest in whatever that humans problem is, and move on as fast as possible.

As I was enjoying the good feelings that come with being more real than normal, a sudden silence in the air made my ears prick up. Rule of thumb, if you feel the absence of something, sudden nonexistence of the space around you, uhh, let me give you an example, When your ears begin to ring and a chill runs your spine, you speak out, but even your voice violating the silent space encompassing you makes you more uncomfortable than petting a cat backwards, then there is probably an Inbetweenling around. I stood up out of my chair and pulled my staff into my hands, waiting. When nothing came, I jammed my hands into the pockets of my trench coat and pulled out a pair of fingerless gloves and forced them onto my hands and reassumed a ready fighting stance. As soon as I thought about dropping my guard, a group --or a herd if you will, a pack if you must-- of Inbetweenlings phased through the walls of my human's home.

“Hmmm, you feel that boys?” The leader said oh so predictably. “This human could keep us sustained for a good while, we--” the leader started, but a weasel-like follower interrupted him looking for validation. “We wouldn’t have to go looking for Juice for at least a week after this one stopped putting any out!” The leader turned and backhanded the weasel boy. “What the fuck did I say about you finishing my sentences? Don't fucking do it! In fact, make like a fucking mime, and don’t say anything!” Leader guy huffed at the weasel and turned to face me again, smoothing his hair absentmindedly. The weasel boy cupped his red and probably stinging cheek, and licked his busted lip, but made no move like he was planning on talking again. “As I was saying, this human would be perfect for us, and you're hogging her all to yourself. How is that fair?” The leader made a move for a weapon of some kind behind his back as he started to close in. The human girl was laying on the couch sobbing and hugging a t-shirt. and I felt the Juice surge through me, and I'm sure they did too. “It’s not!” I say, lowering my staff. “In fact, you can have her all to yourselves, I was just leaving.” I opened my hands as wide as I could without dropping the staff, and backed up. "I just need my bag, it's over by the couch there. Doesn't have anything useful, just some packrat shit." I spoke slowly, I lowered myself to the ground, and using the hook end of my spear, I hooked my backpack by the strap and slid it to me. The leader watched me, silently, and once my bag was in my hand, stepped forward and boot fucked my face, knocking me back, and damn near breaking my nose. "Get out of here little rat." He spat. I didn't need to be told twice, I took off, and phased out of the walls taking off at a full-tilt sprint across the yards of the white houses.

As I said, I am not a badass. I'm not here to risk my life for the chance of having a cool fight scene on this fucking blog. I'm lucky I got away with a light kick to the face and nothing more serious. In the end, I will choose life over a cool fight.

Always.

After I got a good distance away, I found a house that seemed empty and let myself in. Throwing my bag on the table, I rifled through its contents finding some first aid things. See, being both existing and nonexistent seems like it would be a lot of fun until you realize there are a shit ton of objects you can't even touch lest you phase completely through it. Thankfully, demons have tons of stuff that is magical enough to be used on lesser shades and by proxy, I can use it. I pulled out a Polysporne and gingerly placed it on the cut on the bridge of my nose, and stuffed some gauze up my bloody nostrils, grateful that it was only busted and not broken. After a few minutes of blissful silence, it was broken by my least favourite sound, laughter.

"Oh my god, I can't believe that Stacy did that for my birthday, what a sweetheart!" A girl, probably twentysomething waltzed in the room on her cell, laughing and giggling with a friend. This could not be a worse situation. I immediately started jamming my things back into my bag, desperate to leave.

I'll explain, see while humans put out energy when they are in extreme emotional distress. If they are feeling the opposite, their energy does the same. It sucks the life out of everything in its wake. After only being close to this fucking chick for a few seconds, I already felt weighed down, almost sore, and my hands grew cold. I wasted no more time. I cut my losses grabbed my staff, what I managed to fit in my bag and took off. "Fuck am I getting tired of sprinting out of houses!" I curse under my breath. I didn't have to run too far from this danger, and on the front yard stopped and yanked the two pieces of cotton jammed up my nose and gasped for air now that my main source of breathing was no longer plugged. I should have noticed the sounds of footsteps coming from behind me, but I was too busy messing with my fucked up face. “I didn’t know losers hung around this part of the city.” a familiar voice said in a bitchy tone.

#oc #fantasy #storrytelling #writing #follow #comment

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