Fight or FlightAfternoon faded into evening and Lysanna cursed herself as mirror shards carved glyphs into her sick-pink flesh. Iridescent black fluid oozed from her wounds and cast a glimmer like starlight into the room's darkness.
That bastard and his lonely little war. she thought.
If he hadn't disrupted the parturition none of this would be necessary.
Lysanna wanted revenge against that harrowed fool but there was no time; survival of the Scion was all that mattered. Her life now forfeit; a sacrifice for the childe. She would inflict her wrath upon her sister - punishment for a millennia of diaspora and her betrayal - before joining the others in their exile...
...but not in their failure.
Paul's senses sharpened. The nausea subsided as the fog behind his eyes began to clear. Time and place were lost to him. The van was gone - smells of oil and metal replaced by damp and earth - the glow of the fading sun cast eerie shadows through the room's broken window.
A Shower and a Change"Ah, damn. God damn."A Shower and a Change3 years ago in Writing More Like This
The stain was small, no larger than a coin. It fell near his right hip, nestled in the dip between crotch and thigh. Still, it was nauseating. Paul stripped off the trousers and walked to the sink, hoping the sliver of hotel soap would take out the spot.
He began running the hot water and paused, staring at the vomit. Resisting the urge to gag, he grazed his fingers over the stain. It was purely liquid and slick like dish soap, but the sickly brown could only be vomit. He slowly raised his hand to his face and sniffed his fingers. Nothing. It seemed, for a moment, odorless. But no, he suddenly caught a faint scent of metal. Like a cup full of coins. Or a bloodied nose.
"Shit!" A stream of blood ran down his nostrils, over his lip and down his chin. Paul dropped the trousers to the bathroom floor and watched the b
Dreams of the DeepPaul's whole world was spinning. The Proxitol made it incredibly difficult for him to think clearly. Maya? Yes, her name was Maya. She had told him it would only be a few days, that the thing inside would dissolve. She'd been wrong, and she'd been surprised that she'd been wrong, not that it mattered. Resting his head against the cool porcelain of the toilet in the cell he called a room, PaulDreams of the Deep3 years ago in Writing More Like This
could almost laugh about how this all seemed like some ridiculous dream. But the pain, the disorientation, and the feeling of...something inside...assured him it was anything but.
The growth had started spreading again, but it was different this time. The iridescent scales had formed
patches around his hips, wrapped around his waist, and then branched out into two separate lines that
ran up and gathered around his shoulder blades, sprouting opaque sacs.
That night he dreamed of an ocean, somewhere far, far away. Something large and shapeless, sparkling like a star-covered
haciendathe sun dissolvedhacienda3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and we parlayed her sweet inertia
exothermic lovers bending time's elastic spine
into subliminal intentions
that when set above the folding cusp
will always intertwine
Was there much pain?"Was there much pain?"Was there much pain?5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She asked me
As she twirled
A stark red ringlet
Around her slender finger.
As if my screams
Weren't answer enough.
"I am very curious how it felt."
Her mouth twisted .
That smirk, it set
My heart to ice,
My loins to fire.
Her ravenous beauty
Shading the beast within.
Had made such a creature?
I must thank them,
I won't get to do either.
"You are the first you know."
She began running
Across my chest
I should be thankful.
"It wasn't easy to stop."
The flickering candle
Made shadows dance
her soft body.
It was worth it.
"Curiosity won me over I suppose."
Into my eyes,
"But I see now it was a wasted effort."
Could leave my mouth,
She asked of
"I'm sorry to say I must start all over again."
In her ice blue eyes.
She wasn't sorr
Drawn Together"a fit! A seizure! There must be some kind of police report!"Drawn Together3 years ago in Writing More Like This
"Sir, any such information would be confidential. But there has been no report of anyone having a 'fit' or 'seizure' this morning. Now, please step aside!"
"No, no. I'm sorry." Paul backed away, suddenly aware that the queue behind him was becoming a small, angry crowd. A policeman stood nearby, radio held to his lips. Someone coughed, "Nutter," as he staggered away from the kiosk and up towards the London streets.
He scanned the crowd surging into the station, hoping to see the shock of red hair and the deep brown of the jacket. A hand gripped his left forearm.
"Is he here? Did you find him?" A man, maybe fifty, stared at Paul with pleading, mud-colored eyes. The close-cropped, salt-and-pepper hair and hangdog features sparked Paul's memory: it was the man with the belt. The wo
The Host With the MostPaul staggered out into the early morning fog like a drunkard.The Host With the Most3 years ago in Writing More Like This
He hunched into the raised lapels of this too-thin jacket and wandered away from the hotel, disoriented, shivering--panic gnawing at his gut like a cannibal. "I need help," he thought, "but where?" The nearest hospital was the obvious answer, but the thought of what the doctors would do filled his mind with images of hospital beds with straps, extended isolation with no answers and needles piercing his flesh.
The mass on his thigh was growing--that was certain. Paul could feel it writhing and pushing against his flesh as he walked. Lost in his fears, he never noticed the black, windowless van pull up next to him until he heard the van door slide back violently, and rough hands reached out and pulled him out of the grey London mist into darkness.
He awoke with a headache, disoriented. His eyes would not focus and he began to panic, his heart pounding in his ch
039. I'm hysterical like a blue-green wind.039.6 years ago in Typographical More Like This
hold me and it's a hoax. You hold me
and it's a milky white lie. You hold me
and it's like dying, like being born, and
I weep and kick and cry out and the
scream sounds like
No god please don't let go
Hipster GirlsCars howl deep in twisting tunnels, worming their way through the man-made world. I want a pretty girl to run her fingers through my hair and kiss me with her soft-wet mouth. She will love me and I will love her and each moment spent will cling to a certain point in time. My eyes are starting to vibrate like a guitar string pulled back hard. Aderall is a fucking bitch. Fuck my psychiatrist, I don't have ADD or social anxiety disorder. I am just a fucking person. Rain runs down trees, leaf to leaf until it muddies the ground below. Frank Ocean was right when he said those hipster-girls are "pretty but they booty flat". Fuck pussy fuck pussy fuck pussy.Hipster Girls4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Sea and Starshine"Well now...aren't you just full of surprises?" Maya's flippant remark could not disguise her irritation or apprehension at Paul's sudden transformation.Sea and Starshine3 years ago in Writing More Like This
Paul seemed frozen in time as he stared at Maya - not knowing if she was addressing him or the creature within. It was then that Paul realized that Maya might never have been been speaking to him. In his own self-righteousness he never considered that whatever these things were they may place no more significance upon humans than humans would a slug or an amoeba.
His senses dull and feeble - smothered by exhaustion and the remnants of the Proxitol - Paul could feel Tal'Shen pressing into his consciousness.
If We Are To Survive We Must Work Together.
Paul had not the faculty nor the motivation to resist.
"What can I do?"
The Mind And The Body Are One But Your Mind And Body Are No Longer Aligned. You Cannot Control What You Are Becoming.
Paul's mind lost all distinction between truth and deception. Tal'Shen's prese
A Man Reborn"Go."A Man Reborn3 years ago in Writing More Like This
Somewhere, Lysanna clawed at the shards of mirror, using the last of her strength to send the message. The words came to Tal'shen as needling pain, piercing her mind. "Forget them," her mother said. "Go now and do as I've created you to do!"
Tal'shen felt her mother die. It did not matter. There was no feeling of attachment; only the drive to carry out her purpose. Growing still, her monstrous form filled the room. She shot two massive tentacles upwards, rending a large hole in the ceiling. Outside, she blinked in the fog. London, that was the name of this city, wasn't it? A good a place as any to begin.
Inside, Maya coughed back the bits of dust and plaster. "Paul," she breathed, wincing at the mass of flesh Tal'shen had left in her wake. She went to him, gasping at his flayed carcass, nothing more than quivering bits of meat and bone. She closed her eyes. One chance.