Friday, January 21, 2011

The Return of the Blog!

Well I have to admit, I've been a little neglectful to the ol' blog the past few months. I even missed the blog's birthday (January 12) , and like any negligent parent it's time that I make amends for this. Honestly I found myself a little burned out on writing reviews all the time, but there's some big things in the works that I think will more than make up for a lack of reviews. 

Firstly, I will be doing movie reviews!!! I know, i literally just said I'm burnt out on doing movie reviews but the new approach will hopefully be much much more interesting. As I continued to review things I found that it was much more fun to do pieces on the "bad" movies, doing reviews for popular films just isn't quite as enjoyable, I know I like them and there's really no reason to repeat myself over and over again. So in the next few months myself and several friends will be attempting to write and shoot video reviews of crappy films. We've already found a few "gems" it's just a matter of filming, editing and of course figuring out a name for the "show."

Secondly, as of now I am in the process of writing/drawing a graphic novel. I'm not gonna say comic, cause that implies it'll be something like "Marmaduke" or "Blondie", no, this is a full fledged book that I am attempting to create. I'll save the illustrations for my other blog "Barely Artsy"  but I will put up little updates on here to, mostly concerning the writing process and a little bit on the characters I've made. 

2011 will definitely be a little different, but hopefully this will be a good change. Also, thanks to anyone that does read this blog, I know it's not much but any positive response sure is encouraging. So onward to 2011! 

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

One of a kind; The Human Centipede (First Sequence) Review

I've seen a lot of horror movies in my day, While I can safely say that most of the movies I have seen where scary, Human Centipede has to be on of the most disturbing concepts I've come across. This film is a very unique story that tries to unsettle the audience as much as it possibly can, and it does a fairly successful job.

The film focuses on the story of a crazy surgeon, Dr.Heiter (Dieter Laser) who specialized in separating conjoined twins but has decided to start joining people together to make the titular "Human Centipede." To do so he kidnaps tourists in the area to make his masterpiece.

Dieter Laser does a great job as a menacing figure. Watching it there is a constant air of dread when he was in a scene. He is a cold calculating psychopath and may be one of my favorite horror villains. The thing that makes him so scary is that he is completely unrelenting, but unlike Jason Vorhees, Michael Myers or any other horror characters he's just a guy. The fact that he is a very human character makes him much scarier, and you can relate to the fear of the victims.

As for the acting of the captives it is kind of a mixed bag. Lindsay (Ashley C. Williams) and Jenny (Ashlynn Yennie) seem to be the ones we're really supposed to feel bad for, but the performance of Katsuro (Akihiro Kitamura), the "front" of the centipede was pretty gripping. Much like Dr.Heiter, Katsuro is a very motivated character, so it leads to some great conflict between the two, despite the fact that neither speaks the other's language. What there is from the girls is good, but all in all it's kind of relieving  that they stop talking after awhile.

It's really hard to say that I would recommend this movie, but I don't think it was bad. It's hard to say much about it because it is a very unique movie. The creator, Tom Six, came up with a very very disturbing idea and he executed it to the best of his ability. From that perspective its a great movie, but that doesn't mean it won't be any more polarizing. There's little gore, the most graphic scene is the surgery and there is little of that shown. Even when the centipede is made, the worst of the "changes" are obscured by bandages. The true horror in this film comes completely from the idea, which to me, seems like the sign of a good movie. This obviously isn't true for every film, but in this case it may be.

All in all this film is definitely a "must see." Not because it's a superb film, not because it's a bad film, but because it's just one of those movies people will talk about for sometime to come. If the mention of surgically grafting people anus to mouth is too off putting, than maybe you should sit this movie out. Personally, I find "body horror" extremely fascinating, movies like "Saw" and "The Fly" are my favorite films, so I am wholeheartedly for this movie. It's impossible for anyone to give a unanimous verdict on the film, it is just that peculiar. To me though it has to be a 4 outta 5!

Monday, December 6, 2010

Creative Writing Piece--2nd Draft Script

 First post in awhile, the whole "November Writing" thing kind of burned me out on writing for a bit. This is just a second draft of a script I wrote for my creative writing class, thought I might as well post it. I copy and pasted so the formatting is kind of wonky, but I think I ironed out most of the problems.I think I've improved a little bit and I will probably continue to work on the story to some degree.

We see through a large window that it is raining very heavily outside. We pull back to reveal a large waiting room. There are several people sitting in the room.


Near the large window is a woman, LORETTA, 35, an attractive young black woman with a sunny disposition despite her difficult life. She’s wearing a tan jacket, dark blue jeans, and a red snowcap; several strands of her dark black hair hang down over her brow. She is reading the February 27th issue of TIME magazine. Next to her is, MARISSA, 9, LORETTA’s daughter. She is a petite but assertive little girl; she is wearing a bright blue dress and yellow boots.

There is a flash of lightning from outside, MARISSA jumps, eyes wide, she frantically tugs at her mother’s arm.

Mom! That was lightning!

Marissa…you have to be more quiet, there are other people in here with us, don’t be rude.

Marissa looks to her left, there is a man, CHESTER, 70, a pudgy man, with thinning white hair. He is an odd elderly man with a penchant for comedy. He is wearing a yellow windbreaker and a red shirt tucked into his khaki pants. He is tapping his foot, bobbing his head, and humming the theme from “THE MUPPET SHOW.”
Looking out of the corner of his eye he sees Marissa and smiles; he turns and makes a funny face. Marissa giggles, Loretta looks down at her and then at Chester and softly chuckles to herself. There is another flash of lightning and the lights flicker. Loretta looks up.
That’s just great…

She sighs and puts her hand on Marissa’s shoulder.

Stay here baby; I’m going to go ask the doctors a question.

Loretta stands up and walks down the aisle, as she does she looks at the other people in the room. She sees a YOUNG MAN in a green sweatshirt twiddling his thumbs, he looks up and smiles slightly, raising his hand in a slight wave, she turns her head forward quickly and continues to the reception desk. The young man puts his hand down and appears slightly hurt.

We see a woman, HEATHER, 24, a ditzy girl with a valley girl accent. She has “Farah Fawcett” like hair, and is wearing a revealing teal shirt under a white coat. She is examining her nails, completely unaware of Loretta as she walks up.

Excuse me, my daughter and I have been waiting almost an hour, what’s taking so long?
Heather lazily rolls her eyes up at Loretta. Heather is loudly chewing her gum as she talks.  

Sorry ma’am, we’re, like, short on help, it’s the storm

She points towards the direction of the window

(CONT’D)It’s, like, really bad out there

Listen, my daughter has school in the morning, it’s late enough as is, there’s nothing you can do?
Heather scoffs slightly, and hands her a clipboard. Loretta scans down the list.

Sorry ma’am you’re behind six other people.

LORETTA frowns, a woman in a doctor’s uniform walks up to the desk. The woman is JULIA CARLYLE, 30, a smart and doctor who puts the patient before her every time. She looks from Heather to Loretta and sees the clipboard.

Is there something I can help you with?

Yes, actually there is my daughter…
She is interrupted by the sound of gasps, all three women turn an stare wide eyed at something off screen.

Oh god…Pete…

We turn to see a man, PETE, 47, a homeless man and drunk. He is soaking wet and holding his side. The water dripping from him is noticeably a dark red. All his clothing appears to be very ratty, and he has a noticeable beard.

Pete slowly starts to walk towards the reception desk; the other people in the waiting room stare at him. He is noticeably shivering as he moves.

Sc-Sc-Scuse me…

He slips on the floor slightly, maintaining his balance but wincing slightly. He begins to choke up, and he is visibly crying.
I n-n-need some help, p-p-please…
Julia walks up to him and puts both hands out.

Pete, calm down, come with me, we’ll take a look at you.

He turns his head quickly towards the rest of the people in the room, and begins frantically gesturing towards them. The spot where he held his side is now exposed, we can see there are several large gashes in both his dark sweatshirt and his skin.

PETE (yelling)
It came outta nowhere!

We see some of the others in the waiting room. A young man has his arm over his girlfriend, she is whispering to him, not taking her eyes off of Pete.

I was just mindin’ my own business, and then this…this thing…it just ran up and bit ma’ side!
There is a man in a three piece suit with his arms folded, he is smirking in disbelief. Loretta looks over at Marissa her eyes are wide she looks very scared, Chester is looking at Marissa to, he looks concerned. Quickly standing up he clears his throat.

Hey, buddy, why don’t you just go with the doc alright? your scaring all these young folk.
Pete looks directly at Chester

D-d-don’t you people get it!? I’m trying to warn you! It’s s-s-still out there! It could be headed this w-w-way!

Marissa lets out a scream; Loretta quickly makes her way towards her daughter.

Pete, it was probably a wild dog, which is why we need to get you some medical attention, I’ll call the people at animal control and they’ll get it before it hurts anyone one else, ok Pete?

He is unresponsive, only standing with a slight frown on his face, he has grown considerably paler.   

That wasn’t any dog I ever saw…
Julia walks closer and sniffs him, she winces slightly

Pete…you’ve been drinking again, I can smell it from here. C’mon, let’s go get you patched up and you’ll be feeling better in no time.

Pete begins to walk with Julia as they reach a door he turns around looks at the others. They are all still looking at him, he furrows his brow.  

That was no damn dog, believe me…

Saturday, November 6, 2010

November Writin' #5--Vigilante Hamilton

So, i've decided that instead of strictly writing scary stuff, i'm gonna try other things throughout the month as well, so here's something that I guess would be considered comedy. It gets weird, I didn't really put much time in making it make sense. It's pretty nonsensical but I think some aspects of it are pretty good;

Hamilton swiftly walked down the alleyway, the jewel thief was close. Dakota Hamilton was a top rate gumshoe, and he had been hired to catch the elusive jewel thief known as "El Condor", no particular reason for this, it just kind of stuck. The year was 2345, and the place was "Newhattan" the floating city located right above New York City. Hamilton had set up his detective agency after a failed attempt at professional cat grooming. With the help of his long time friend and infrequent intimate partner, Indigo O'Leary, he was able to take on several cases and make a name for himself.

The detective peered around a corner, he could see a shadowy figure, this had to be "El Condor." Hamilton adjusted his hat for optimum intimidation, and slowly rounded the corner, "Ok, Mr.Condor, that's as far as you're going to go." The figure turned, Hamilton could see him better, he was an older, man, his gray hair was long and almost magnificent in a way, Hamilton would later write in his journal that he wanted to grow hair like that when he got older. The man looked at Hamilton, then in a gruff smokey voice he said, "So detective you've got me cornered, now what?" Dakota had not actually thought that far ahead, he drew his laser pistol and kept it pointed at the man's head.

"First things first, put down the bucket of the those precious gold encrusted, platinum diamond gems!" Dakota motioned with the pistol for the man to place the bucket in front of him, the man begrudgingly complied. Hamilton walked closer to the man, "I read your dossier, you don't do things for profit, who wanted these?" El Condor smirked, "My boy, I believe in the next few weeks, all your questions will be answered." Hamilton grabbed the man by his Hawaiian shirt collar, he stared him in the eye. That's when the red and blue of the police cruisers brought Dakota back to reality. He heard a familiar, Boston tinged voice, "Hey Dakota, thought you'd like the help." Hamilton walked up to Indigo O'Leary, the police already hauling the thief away in a prison capsule.

Later that evening Dakota found himself sitting in Pub #1566, one of the many conveniently automated drinking establishments found in Newhattan. Sitting across from him was Indigo, she was entering her order into Bartender #2890 main function's list. He enjoyed their nights together after big cases, they usually ended in sex. After the Bartender hovered to the bar Dakota put his hand on Indigo's. She smiled softly, but than pulled her hand from his, "Dakota...We need to talk." He felt his heart sink, there were a million different ways this could end, most seeming bad.

Indigo put her hands on her chin, still smiling, and never breaking eye contact, Dakota saw this as a sign, so he mimicked her. "I need to move on, you're just not that good at...this..." Dakota was confused, "What are you talking about honey." Indigo glared at Dakota, he felt his soul leave his body for a split second. "Don't ever call me honey again, ok?" He could definitely tell this was going to end badly now. "You're not good at being a detective, I end up doing all the work." Dakota frowned, "I don't think that's very fair to say, I caught that Condor fellow." Indigo shook her head, "No, you stalled him, while I did real work and got the police." Bartender #2890 came back handing Indigo her rum and coke, and handing Dakota his fuzzy navel, he drank it very quickly.

The two sat in silence for minutes, Indigo broke it after taking several drinks, "So, i'm gonna go start my own agency, and actually do a compotent job for once." Dakota, somewhat a lightweight, was already slurring his speech, "Thish ish shtupid Indigo, we're friends." Indigo put her hand on his, "Well...," then she got up, "guess things are changing." She patted Dakota on the back, yelling, "Thanks for paying for my drink!" Dakota sat at the both feeling sad and alone, he had just lost his best friend and infrequent sex partner. He thought about all the good times they had had together. Sure she didn't talk to him in highschool, or really in college, or even during sex, but he felt that they had formed a strong bond.

Dakota stepped outside, the cold sting of the air felt as if even mother natured was mocking him. As he walked down the street he heard a noise, "Help me!" It was a woman. Running down the sidewalk Dakota came upon an alley, at the other end a woman being attacked by two burly hooligans. Dakota walked up shouting, "Hey, you burly hooligans, unhand that voluptuous beauty." In hindsight calling the woman a "voluptuous beauty" would be seen as a mistake. The two men turned, one was simian like, his greasy black hair down up in a pompodour, the other in a three piece suit, with shiny black shoes, definitely a member of the "Dapper Gentlemen's Gang." The girl appeared to be in her early twenties, her black hair soaking, clung to her friegthened face.

"Oh yeah," said the dapper gent as he pulled out their trademark billy club, "What if we don't." The ape man watched silently, Dakota imagined that he couldn't be thinking of much. "Well than this!" Dakota said as he pulled out his laser pistol, this provoked the ape man, he charged at Dakota, his mouth frothing. The detective was quick, shooting him in his right knee, he collapsed sobbing like a large baby. The dapper gentleman stepped back, "You son of a bitch, you know who we are?!" The man swung his billy club in a large helicopter motion, yelling wildly. Before he could even move Dakota shot him in the foot, he fell crying uncontrollably.

Dakota sauntered up to young woman, grabbing her by the hips. "Little lady, I reckon you owe me a kiss." She was shivering, Dakota assumed this was due to sheer sexual intimidation so he moved in to kiss her, but she did not accept his flailing tongue and instead sprayed him with mace. Dakota screamed cowering in a corner, "Geez lady, I was just trying to help you!" The young woman walked up putting her hand on his shoulder, "I'm grateful, but you were very off putting...I'm sorry." He looked at her through his extremely blood shot eyes, he managed to almost smile. "You should do that for a living" the girl said. "What, I don't like mace," Dakota said. "No, help people, you know like a vigilante," the girl said

Dakota explained his job to the young woman, she smiled. "What if you did something slightly different," She was practically beaming. "What are you talking about, I'm  already a detective, I do good now," Dakota groaned, his eyes felt like they were sizzling. "You could be a superhero," She grabbed him by the shoulders shaking him, "and I could help you!" He was excited, but had to pee, so he accompanied the girl to her apartment, which was actually quite close. She was kind enough to let him use the restroom, as he peed he yelled, "So I don't even know your name." She replied, "Melody Nightingale." Dakota smiled, "That's a nice name, I hope we make a good team." He flushed the toilet, his mind at ease, he was excited to start a new chapter in his life.

Friday, November 5, 2010

November Writin' #4--Dog

Here's piece number 3(technically 4) the other piece is just about done, so I'll be caught up on posting stuff. If you do enjoy writing, i'd strongly encourage you to try this too, it's really fun and it's a good excuse to do a little writing every day; 

Ellis ran, his chest burned, his head hurt, and he was seriously dehydrated, but he knew that if he stopped it would almost certainly mean death. He could hear the beast closely behind him, it's breathing deep and angry. He turned for only a split second, he could only make out two things, it was getting closer, and its teeth appeared to be fairly sharp. The monster pursuing Ellis was a large black dog, he couldn't really tell what kind it was, but he didn't really care what breed of dog was trying to kill him.

Ellis' day had started out normally enough, he was simply walking down a sidewalk when he heard growling coming from behind him. Since then Ellis had been running for dear life. He wasn't sure what it was about him that made his canine attacker to be so hostile, but now wasn't the time for speculation. Ellis examined his surroundings; he had ended up down an alleyway, the back yards of houses on either side. It was a risky maneuver, but Ellis saw a white fence he thought he could scale. He looked back at the dog, it was slightly farther back, just enough that he could scale the fence to safety.

Ellis leapt with all his might, most of his upper half made the jump. He pulled himself up quickly, but felt a sharp pain, along with a tug. He looked down to see his heel and ankle in the dog's mouth; its teeth were sunk in his flesh. Ellis let out a startled yelp and kicked at the monster's head, but it did not back down. He kicked and kicked and kicked, some much so that the dog formed several cuts on the side of its face. Putting all his strength into it he kicked one more time, this time, knocking the dog off its legs. Ellis took this time to scale the rest of the fence, collapsing on the lawn on the other side, face down in the grass.

He couldn't move, he was so exhausted he couldn't move an inch, that's when he heard movement on the other side. "Get up, get up, get up," Ellis said quietly to himself, he didn't know if the dog could still find him, but he didn't want to take chances. He pushed himself off the ground and slowly stood, wincing at the slight pain in his leg. He could still walk, but he had to bear a sharp sting. As Ellis walked up to the small white house he could hear the dog taking deep breaths, trying to pick up his scent. Ellis picked up his pace, his breathing getting slightly harder.

As he approached the house he could see a figure inside. Ellis waved his hand slightly smiling. The person inside, a young woman, not any older than him waved back. Ellis heard more sounds from behind, he looked, the dog was digging a tunnel underneath the fence. Ellis felt his heart pounding faster in his chest, the girl noticed the concern on his face. She opened the door, "Is something the matter sir?" Ellis tried to catch his breath; he made it halfway to the girl when he heard her scream. Ellis felt his heart sank, he turned around to face the large dog, it had made its way under the fence.

The girl looked extremely frightened, but Ellis was more scared, he noticed the dog never took its gaze off him. The girl yelled, "Mom!” Ellis looked at her wild eyed he motioned for her to be quiet. The dog never even looked at her, no matter how loud she got, it became apparent that the dog was out for him. Ellis turned to the girl and quietly said, "Go inside, please call the police..." She walked backwards slowly, but when she noticed the dog took no interest in her she turned around. Ellis watched her slide the door closed and grab the phone. He stepped to the side, the dog taking small steps toward him.

Ellis looked to the left, a tool shed, the door was open. He ran to the shed, the dog began to pick up its pace. Ellis found strength to lunge into the shed and close the door.  The dog barked loudly as it rammed into the shed's door. Ellis looked around, he was disheartened that there were no chainsaws; there weren't even heavy duty gardening sheers. Ellis grabbed the sharpest thing he could find, a screwdriver, he whimpered, the dog breached the door, teeth snapping like a ravenous piranha. Ellis backed up against the wall of the shed. The dog busted through the door, charging at him.

Ellis put his arm out to shield himself, the dog grabbed it shaking it vigorously, it growled loudly as blood filled its mouth. Ellis pulled the dog closer, stared it in the eye and quietly whispered, "Fuck you," clenching the screwdriver tighter he rammed it into the dog's throat. Despite the screwdriver piercing its neck the dog continued to bear down on his arm. Ellis looked to his right; a single brick could be his last salvation. Grabbing the brick he hit the dog in the head, it whimpered slightly. Ellis struck the beast several times, he could see white from the dog's skull showing through its bloodied head.

Ellis smashed the dog in the head until his arm got sore, his clothing covered in a deep crimson. The dog unmoving still had its teeth in his arm, even though most of its head had been reduced to mush. Ellis breathed a deep sigh of relief; he dropped the brick, chuckling. As he pulled the teeth out of his arm a policeman entered the doorway, Ellis chuckled a bit, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, he was very very tired.

November Writin' #3--The Plan

This is the piece that I did on Tuesday, but I never got the ending to work the way I thought it should. After trying a couple things I'd say that this works best, for now at least, like I've said before these are first drafts, I'll go back and make em' better; 

Bright headlights cut through the dark of the night. Nathan Boggs had come to a very grim decision; He was going to commit murder that night. The idea had come to him one day when he let his mind wander into darker territories. He had decided that his life was much too boring. His wife constantly away on trips and he in a lucrative, but lackluster, job. Nathan spent several weeks putting his plan together, and this was the night he would carry it out.

The first step would be abduction, he would pick up a stranger, a hobo, prostitute, runaway, it didn't really matter. He would offer them a drugged bottle of water and they would be out within minutes of drinking it. From there it would be a quick drive to the summer cabin by the town lake and he could do the deed in the basement. The large furnace would be able to incinerate any evidence of the crime. Nathan could sense that tonight would be a very interesting night.

As he followed the twists and turns of the road he thought he could make out a figure in the distance, standing under a street light. It appeared to be a person in a yellow sweatshirt, and dark jeans. The hood of the sweatshirt was pulled up, Nathan couldn't see who they were as he got closer he turned off the high beams of his car, the person turned towards him. He could finally see that it was a young girl, she was very petite but Nathan could make out a girlish figure underneath the baggy sweatshirt. Her black hair, up in a pony tail, clashed with the pale color of her skin, she looked like she was very worn out.

Nathan came to a stop several feet in front of her; he motioned her to his window. "Hello there," he said, "might you be interested in a ride?" She hesitantly came closer to him, "Thank you sir, but I don't even know where I'm going..." Nathan grinned at this, "Well can't let a young girl like you wander the dark streets alone, hop in and I'll get you to town." She looked at the ground, "I don't even know your name, doesn't seem like a good idea..." before she could finish this thought Nathan extended his hand. She reached out and shook the outreached arm, and he said, "The names Nathan, how bout' you?" She pulled her hand from his shake; she looked up at him, "Margret."

Nathan watched as she walked across the front of his car, his heart was racing with excitement. She got in the car, folded her hands together and stared at the dashboard. Nathan asked, "So can I get you water? You look a little pale; you could use a little H2O." Margret shook her head and quietly replied, "No thank you." Not anticipating a conscious passenger Nathan thought up an alternate plan. "It's awfully late, nothing in town is going to be open, how bout I take you to my cabin by the lake, you can stay there and then call someone to get you in the morning." Margret darted her eyes from Nathan to the door, she looked slightly concerned, and this worried Nathan. "I really shouldn't..." she said, Nathan's heart sank, but then she continued, "But I’m very tired, I could use the sleep."

They drove in silence for the rest of the drive, after what seemed like hours, they finally reached Nathan's summer retreat. As they stopped he picked up the tainted water, "Sure you're not thirsty?" She looked at him and said, "Honestly, I’m not a big water drinker." Nathan tried to hide his frustration, so he asked her a question, "So where are you from exactly?" She opened her car door, "well I guess nowhere in particular, I’m kind of nomadic." He chuckled, "fascinating, I haven't met many nomads." They made their way into the cabin; Nathan began flicking on lights in the main room. "You can sleep on the couch," in a last attempt he asked, "I can pour you some water just to have for tonight." She shook her head no; Nathan would have to improvise more.

"I'm going to go get some pillows, just stay here okay?" Nathan walked down to the basement, there he grabbed a small metal pipe left over from renovations the year before, and he had to get her unconscious one way or the other. He quietly reentered the room, the pipe behind his back. Margret still sat on the couch, not even facing him. With one swift blow Nathan struck the back of her skull she flew forward slamming her forehead on the coffee table. Nathan frowned, she got blood on his favorite coffee table book, he'd have to replace it in the future.

He turned her over and looked at the unconscious girl, he scanned her body several times and more dark thoughts began to brew. She was light enough that he could lift her so he carried her to the bedroom. Shortly after restraining her to his bed with his old belts he saw her eyes flutter to life. She looked at him, scared and slightly delirious, "You really should have drunk that water," he said as he took off his shoes. Tears building up in her eyes she stuttered, "P-please don't." He smirked, "Well I've come too far, so I can't at this point, I can get you some of that water, and it’ll be like going to sleep, promise." Margret began to sob; she nodded and could barely say "OK" before being overcome by her crying.

Nathan strutted back to the kitchen and poured the poisoned water into a glass, he was as giddy as a child on Christmas day. As he walked back into the bedroom he thought about how after tonight he would be a different man, a stronger man. After tonight he could do whatever he wanted. Before he could continue this train of thought he was startled by the sight of an empty bed, the belt restraints broken. His last thought was, "how did this happen" before he was struck from behind with the metal pipe he'd hit Margret with.

As Nathan came back to consciousness he tried to move his arms, there was resistance, he was tied to the bed with other garments from his closet. As his vision fully restored he found Margret at the foot of the bed, staring at him. "What the fuck?!" was all Nathan could say. The petite girl walked up next to him trailing her finger up his torso.  “I was going to be nice and wait until you fell asleep, make it peaceful, you wouldn’t have felt a thing, “she said unzipping her hoodie, “but you were so damn rude, well, I guess I won’t feel that conflicted now.”

Nathan stammered, “Wh-what the fuck are you talking about?” Margret opened up her sweatshirt; on the inside was a large knife. “I just wanted to try something…crazy.” She took the knife and ran the cold blunt side lightly across his skin. She wiped the tears from her eyes, smiling all the while, Nathan realized that he’d been deceived. He yelled, Margret grabbed him by the throat, squeezing his wind pipe hard.  She released his neck; he struggled to regain his breath as she climbed up on top of him. “Now,” she said raising the knife above her head, “let’s make this an exciting evening.” Nathan could only whimper as he watched the blade descend. 

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

November Writin' #2--The Corpse

This is technically the third thing I wrote, but the other piece needs some fine tuning. This is just another short story I wrote, this will probably go into whatever weird short story collection I'm making. While I don't think any of these are great, i like that I'm laying ground work for bigger stories in the future; 

Cliff grunted as he climbed up the rickety ladder, up into the attic. He winced with each step, his knees were stiff. He groaned as he could already feel the immense stuffiness and heat from the attic. Time had taken his toll on him, now in his late forties, Cliff was a tired man. He was tired of his job, his car, his house, but most of all he was tired of his wife Olivia. Sure in the first years of marriage it was wonderful, the future looked bright. As time went on, however, the polish on the world had begun to fade. Now Cliff found himself an aging has been, and every time he looked at Olivia he was reminded of how mundane his life had become. 

He poked his head up into the attic, the only light coming from outside, the sunbeams shining through shutters. Cliff was not a church goer, so Olivia had decided he could clean the attic Sunday morning. Even though he argued he'd never been in the attic, she insisted, her sinus were much too sensitive to be in a dusty attic. Neither of them had ever been up there for very long, they didn't even use it for storage, but there were a lot of boxes from previous tenants. So it was Cliff's duty to sort junk from collectibles. Cliff walked over to a large box labeled "shirts." As he reached to open the box he spotted something behind the boxes, in the corner. Cliff felt a knot in his stomach, as he stared at what appeared to be a shriveled corpse, curled up in a ball. He walked closer, surely this was just a long forgotten Halloween decoration, he thought. 

Cliff touched the shoulder of the body, it was dry, almost a paper texture. He looked at the face, it was very thin, and the nose appeared to have fallen off. He stared at body for several minutes, when, without warning the body stared back. Cliff gasped, so loud it caught himself off guard, he fell to the ground. The corpse looked at him and in a raspy voice said, "hello." Cliff was at a loss for words, this thing, this dead body, was talking to him. "It has been so long since I've had the pleasure to converse, might you stay and talk with me?" Cliff did not have many friends, and he seldom was able to talk to someone other than his wife, he was very lonely. He pondered the situation and gave a very calm, "sure." 

He sat down next to the body, they sat in silence for the next few minutes, the corpse broke the silence. "My name is Roger, by the way," only his mouth moved as the skin around it cracked and flacked with every word he said. Before Cliff could respond Roger said with a grin, "You must be Clifford." He was shocked at the notion of an apparently immobile corpse would know his name. Cliff replied, "Yes...but everyone calls me Cliff, might I ask how you know this?" Roger looked around before answering, "Well as you can see I'm a bit immobile," he shook slightly to prove his point, his limbs barely moved. "But I do hear alot, and I know all about you and...Olivia?" Cliff nodded, he knew he should have been more off put, but Roger seemed like a polite enough man. 

"Well she sounds like a very pretty lady,"Roger said. Cliff shrugged, "Honestly that woman has been nothing but misery for the last twenty three years." Roger managed to make sounds that could be considered laughter, "That's women for ya, misery." Cliff grinned, he had finally found someone that understood him. Cliff sighed, "Can't live with em', can't live without, isn't that how the saying goes?" Roger looked at the floor, and slowly turned his gaze up toe Cliff, "Well know that's not entirely true." The corpse stared at Cliff, unblinking until Roger wheezily said, " Why don't you just get rid of her?" 

Cliff looked at the body wide eyed, "I...I can't kill my wife...I..." Roger was quick to cut him off, "What, you love her?" Roger began to force more laughter out of his body, dust coming out with every exhale. "Listen Cliff, I was in the same place, you know what I did?" Roger got a more sinister look on his face, "It's real easy, just do what I did." Cliff became pale in the face, Roger continued, "Just put something in her meal, arsenic or something like that, it's not like there's ever any visitors, you won't be interrupted." Cliff stammered, "That's not possible, sure I don't love her like I used to, but she's my wife." Roger frowned, or a close approximation, and said, "well you obviously don't know what goes on here when you're gone."

The corpse rolled his eyes, "She has been seeing men for years now," he chuckled, "the things I've heard." Cliff felt his heart sink, the woman he'd given everything up for was cheating on him? "How can I believe you?" Roger looked at a vent, just past his feet, he signaled with his eyes for Cliff to look as well. Through the shutters of the vent Cliff could see their bedroom, with a perfect view of their queen sized mattress. "This isn't possible...If one of us is going to cheat, it should be me..." He could feel anger well up inside his chest. "Why stop there," Roger asked, "Like I said...teach her a lesson." Cliff looked at the body, "I can just end it, get the hell out of this rinky dink town, all I have to do is kill that bitch." 

A million thoughts raced through his head. How would he do it, suffocation, posioning, drowning, what? He inventoried every sharp, blunt, or otherwise dangerous object in the house that could do the deed. As he got up he felt a surge of dizziness brought on, he didn't realize how tired he really was. He looked down at Roger to see if he would agree, to Cliff's surprise the once very animate corpse did not appear to be moving anymore. He bent down wiping the sweat from his brow, "Hello, Roger?" The body remained unmoving. Cliff felt very tired, the heat had gotten to him. He laid down next to Roger and put his arm on his shoulder, it was still tough and papery, as he looked at the shriveled man Cliff drifted off to sleep. 

Olivia walked inside her house, she had just gotten back from Sunday morning service. "Cliff, I'm home," She said, looking in the living room for her husband. She made her way upstairs, calling his name once more. When Olivia reached the top of the stairs she discovered the ladder to the attic was still down. She softly laughed to herself, her husband probably fell asleep on the job again. "One of these days you are going to do some work around here," she said as she climbed up the ladder. 

Olivia reached the top of the ladder, scanning the attic her eyes stopped on a figure lying on the floor. Several days after discovering her husband's body doctors would tell her his death was brought on by heat stroke. Olivia was also told that victims of heat stroke will sometimes hallucinate which could explain why her husband was hugging the Halloween decoration that looked like a dead body