Tag: mystery

Like a Death Warmed Over

twenty-three years
it was placed in a box
dead for you
dead like you
flatlined from any more pain
you left without a scar
as your zombie still chased me
biting
grabbing for me
I barely stay ahead
how dark were those days
where you could not see me
your vision obscured by the disease
your heart blackened by the rot
your eyes staring into some void
like our blood was no longer the same
that smell still comes back to this day
when I’m hungry for memories
some of them are spoiled
no good anymore
they make me sick
like the day I became infected
by you… by that living death

Story Jots # 15 – Grounded

“What the fu…“

Before Ben Coleman could finish his f-bomb, or the joint he was pulling back on, the sky had begun to fill with people. Popping up all over the place. As far as his eyes could see, human beings appeared everywhere. First, one by one, then two by two, now it seems they’re multiplying by ten at a time. Suspended off the ground about a hundred feet or more, all spaced out sort of evenly. He slowed his car to a stop to get a grip on what was happening. This couldn’t be real. He looked momentarily at the bag of weed sitting next to him in the passenger seat. Pausing a second thinking maybe he was high. Baked on his uncle’s homegrown stuff. It wouldn’t be the first time. His uncle’s gear was always sort of “use at your own risk.” Thinking this, he figured it was another reason to pull over. See if he could come down a bit from his buzz and get his head straight. The people kept coming and it wasn’t long before he realized it wasn’t weed. He was buzzed for sure, but this was as real as it gets and now he was freaking out. His buzz was just making it worse.

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The Red Journal – Emotional Handicap

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Saturday, 8:00 A.M.

Any second now Ethan would be pulling into the curb with his third degree primed and ready to go. This made Sarah’s head pound even harder as she stood outside her apartment building anxiously awaiting the barrage. It had been just over twenty minutes since she had returned home from Scott’s loft apartment. In that short time she had managed to grab a shower, put on some clean clothes, and throw some food down her throat. It was a piece of whole wheat toast that was not doing its intended job of settling her stomach. The more she thought about how the follow-up conversation would go after her brother-in-law’s stern text, the faster the tiny vein in the middle of her forehead would involuntarily throb. As the wince left her tired eyes, she spotted the Monte Carlo appearing from around the corner. Another throb. 

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The Red Journal – Shots in the Dark

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Friday, 11:50 P.M.

Officer Dusty Salad had been given strict orders to bring Detective Sarah Wilson directly home after the Burnside Country Club investigation wrapped up. No stops, no detours, just straight to 126 Maple Road. The address of Detective Ethan Frost and his wife Susan. Only, Officer Salad was not following the orders he was given. He was not on his way to 126 Maple Road. No instead, instead, he was driving his police cruiser in the opposite direction. And, in two short minutes, with the key party to those orders in the backseat, would be pulling up to Lochlan’s Pub. A bar located a few short blocks from the precinct that catered mostly to cops. It was the perfect place to blow off a little law enforcement steam and a place Sarah was a regular.

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Rainy Nights Devils Dance 

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rainy nights devils dance  
their guise of secrets 
under piss-yellow street lights
in the alleys cast shade 
when monsters come out to play  
who can barely see a thing as Hyde shows  
every line blurred
people touching 
music lulling sensual acts 
dirty corners whisper in commentary 
jealous they didn’t swallow first 
illicits hold all those to deeds of passion and lust
no one cares about anything and only want more 
the creatures dance and hypnotize
until the sharp sun rises then they flee 
changing it back once again

The Black Journal – (Take-Away)

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Friday, 9:45 P.M.

Ethan’s driver-side door crunched and creaked as it slammed shut. He was home. Another long day of chasing a killer without so much as a single clue of who it might be. Zero answers, just more questions. Questions, that for now had to wait. The only thing on his mind was finally getting to see his beautiful wife, Susan. Take one look at her and no matter how bad of a day he was having, she’d quickly make all go away. A hot shower and some food wouldn’t go astray either.

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The Black Journal – (Break Room, Over Lunch)

Friday, 5:40 p.m. 
(Ethan and Sarah come up short with their first visit to The Keep. They decide to spend most of the afternoon going over the witness statements from the bar and various other items of interest scattered in a brown file on a lunchroom table)

Awfully quiet, how’s your Chinese food? 

What? Oh, ah…it’s good, it’s good. 

Is that right? Well, you wouldn’t say that by what’s left there on your plate. Sarah, you’ve haven’t eaten a thing. You’re not still mad at me, are you? 

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The Black Journal – Chief’s Office, Over Coffee, Pre-Briefing

Friday, 8:05 A.M.

Good morning, Det. Frost…coffee?

Morning chief, sure, thanks.

Frost, I didn’t sleep very well last night. Do you know why that is?

Why is that chief? Go ahead and enlighten me.

It’s because of our latest homicide case. It’s gone and made my damn ulcer act up again. It bloody well kept me up most of the night. Frost, this guy’s sending a clear message here, but who the hell is it for?

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The Black Journal – (A Ride Home)

Thursday, 9:50 A.M.


Thanks for the lift home, Ethan. I don’t think I could have gotten behind the wheel after that.

No worries, Sarah. It’s me, and it’s the least I can do. You doing OK?

I still can’t believe it. Kevin…I mean, we only spoke a few weeks ago. He returned my apartment key and we had coffee together.

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The Red Journal (The Diner, Afterwards)

MONDAY, 08:35 A.M.

Should I even order coffee?
I hate coffee.
This place does look like it could serve a half-decent pot.
I guess I’ll have to get something just to blend in with these people.
Great, now the waitress is staring at me?
Does she know?
OK, now she’s tapping her pen.
I’m really not in the mood for her right now.
She’s bringing on a headache.
All I can think about is the success of last night.
Yes, I drank cheap disgusting booze with cheap disgusting strangers. But, I prepared for that.
I did go over the line with killing that guy.
Had to though, had to get closer.
And, I did…