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Tag Archives: death

We are! We are!

Our shells decay over time,

Souls trapped in finite casings

Ghosts of a terrestrial plane.

We are, we are, sublime.


Consciousness captured through ingenuity,

Subconsciousness fueling creativity,

Driven by proficiency,

We are, we are ambiguity.


Disparity in human principle,

Purpose defined objectivity,

Time is running out, yet

We are, we are, invincible.


“Death is so terribly final, while life is full of possibilities.”
― George R.R. Martin

Camp NaNo is around the corner. Let’s take the world by storm!



Friday Fiction: Dust

Today’s Friday Fiction is courtesy of 300 word short story using the following elements.

We spun, and our three elements are character: Driver, setting: Rural Road, and genre: Romance.

Title: Dust

Word Count: 258

Dust. It pervaded the streets like flies over dead bodies. Endless. The windshield was a speckled window to the winding throughway that was more dirt and car denting dips than actual road. I had to ease the car through as each little bump would knock my passenger’s sleeping head against the window. Occasionally I’d look over the slumped form, pale skin almost white against the filtering rays, accentuating the dark blue lids shut against the glaring sun. The lips had parted and liquid seeped from the corners to dribble over the near transparent blouse she wore. So peaceful. Eventually the road smoothed out, allowing me to reach for the lighter and Marlboro pack in my breast pocket, balancing the steering wheel on my thighs as fingers worked to light the cig. She wouldn’t mind the smoke. I rolled the window down slightly letting the tendrils escape into the expanse beyond the road, an endless stretch of lush green on either side. One in particular ended at a gentle river where I had met the sleeping beauty. Long locks flowing down her shoulders, hands peacefully clasped over her abdomen with a single flower between. An angel setting my chest aflutter. Love at first sight. Rose petals overflowed from her parted lips, decorated silence of a floating soul amongst the dregs flowing around her. I’d stepped into the cold waters and rescued my princess from drifting through flooded eternity – such beauty required stilled peace. I would bury her in the meadows beyond where she would return to the dust.

A little dark. I blame the music.

Death of Man


Heavy and dormant
Yet whirrs with life
A cage of darkness
Of hearbreak and strife.

Once pumping. Once beating,
Life in red rivers
Now oozing. Now dripping,
Death in black slithers.

They beckon. They call.
Raised fists and claws
What is humanity?
Ask rust and bone jaws.

Steel and Steam
Machines of death
Hearts of metal.
With man’s last breath.

I’m building a Steampunk world over at Silva-Steam with some inspirational pictures, stories, poems and what-nots. Join me on my journey: Silva-Steam Tumblr



“I thought there would be some sort of nostalgia…waking up here in this room. But too much has changed.” The boy rose from the bed, pushing the blankets off to sit cross legged on the bed. The morning sunlight fell across his face to make his light brown skin seem translucent
“Well, it’s been years since…you know”
“I’ve been imaginary? Yeah I know.” I ran my hand over his black hair, relishing the feel of it as I had never been able to before – not like this anyway
“You’re not imaginary, you’re…”
“I’m not real either. That’s okay. This is better I guess. I don’t get to grow up and have a beard like you old man” The boy stretched his legs out on the bed, wriggling his toes into the crumpled bed-covers.
“I’m not old” I teased. He smiled with both his dark eyes and his lips
“Stresses of life got you so caught up in life, you can’t see those old man lines etching across your forehead.”
“I’m twenty five monkey!” I shouted in mock anger but he laughed as his sad eyes fell upon me.
“Thirteen more than I was given.” I sighed. He continued
“Don’t worry I’m not trying to make you feel guilty or anything but I just want to let you know I’m ok. I’m imaginary after all right?”
“Of course not! You’re not…” He slid back onto the bed, putting his hands behind the back of his head
“It’s strange how we hold on to the pieces of the past while we wait for our futures…that’s something I read once but is relevant to us now isn’t it? Except…I don’t have a future, you know? And you are continuing on as you should.” he smiled broadly at that but his face was down – disheartened.
“Hey listen now…”
“Nope sorry old man, not listening. I’m here to say good bye. You don’t need me anymore, not like you did back then…afterwards”
“You mean after you died.”
“I prefer passed on.” we both stared at each other, I fought the coming emotion welling up within me.
“You’re right, I couldn’t imagine life without my best friend – not then. How else could I have kept you in my memory except by recreating you as you are now. I mean when you started getting sick…” He rolled off the bed and walked across the room to the window, his face looking up towards the streaming light.
“You’re all grown up now. You don’t need me to fend off evil villains from another dimension or power up to levels over 9000 in order to save the galaxy. You got your whole life ahead of you but…don’t forget me okay old man. Remember me for who I was not what I’d become. Remember me during all the good times, all the fights both fake and real. Most of all, remember the dreams we had and fulfill yours as I would have wanted mine.”

I continued to stare at the empty space, hit by the sense of loss I’d once felt all those years ago when I’d lost a friend. It was still real, even now. I guess some imaginary friends never leave, especially when they were not so imaginary to begin with.


In response to:

This Side of Eternity – Daily Post

Lady in Red

Tranquillity rests upon the shoulders of the weary, as fatigued induced slumber lulls the body and mind into transitory bliss. Time is cursory within the expanding dreamscapes painting afresh a new reality within the confines of consciousness.


Slumber, though peaceful, remains perturbed by reaching, prying fingers, groping from the darkness that is reality. Sweet dreams. Nightmares. Each carry the toxic atrophy set to dispel any sense of elation as dreams dissipate into the dark, dreary coldness of reality.


Its tumultuous, the chasm that lies buried below bone marrow and soft tissue. A constant throb reverberates through this dark orifice, in the hope that each beat sews and knits, weaves and stitches the tumultuous chasm shut – forever silencing the beast within. The chasm is a labyrinth, deceitful in its facade, beckoning the many into its walls, hoping to entrap them within its dark passages and endless doorways. Its cries echo within the profound darkness, calling out in despair only to ensnare and be ensnared.


We drape ourselves in the hollow, inconsequential threads of suspended disbelief – we are our own masters we say. Postulation concludes that the circumambient forestry is a shell keeping others out but in truth it keeps us in.  We find joy in the transient, in the passing, in pleasing the now, aware that slumber is just as transient but living in it by it and for it.


It is time we woke up. This life is the slumber, the dreamscape we embed ourselves to in the hopes that the dream is reality. We endure the nightmares of life and revel in the sweetness of it, thinking its all real but waking up, we will find ourselves still in darkness. The question one must ask is…

Are we still living for this side of eternity or are we anticipating our wake on the other?

The answer to this question will influence greatly how you perceive the world and with it, every major decision you make. Why not Live Life in Light of Eternity


In response to:
We all have complicated histories. When was the last time your past experiences informed a major decision you’ve made?

Auburn Part 5 – Unhinging Light

You can find the first 4 parts of Auburn in the links below including the Alternate Universe versions. I would recommend you read those first if you haven’t, to catch up on the events leading up to Part 5.
I stared at the computer screen for a while longer, wondering what the password could be. Frustration poked at my chest in random emotive stabs that ranged from anger and bewilderment to relief and joy. However, the severity of the situation and all the events that had transpired since the auburn haired lady handed me this dreaded laptop, had frustration boiling to the surface. The urge to throw the glass of water on my desk against the far end of the room, bubbled up to the surface and only the sudden itch in my leg diverted my attention away from the glass. As I reached down to scratch the now swelling ankle, my eyes fell upon the laptop bag by my feet and immediately hope surged through me. I delved into the bag, my hands rummaging through the compartments in search of something, anything that could elude to a password but my hands found nothing. Despondent, I dropped the bag back on to the floor with a frustrated sigh. I turned back to the laptop and stared at the screen. Password. What could it be? I sighed, reached for the glass and took another sip of the cold liquid within, my mind already sifting through possible password combinations but I knew that the chances of getting it right were low if not improbable. I placed the glass back on the table, somewhat precariously which caused the glass to tip off the table. I instinctively caught the glass before it could topple over, though droplets of liquid splashed onto my pants and floor. I sighed out loud again, standing up to go find a cloth, only to notice a torn off piece of paper peeking from within the laptop bag. Hope once again thrummed through me and as I picked the piece of paper up, the writing on it confirmed my elated disposition.
red fox final
I typed the password in and was greeted by the remarkably contrasting image of an individual looking up a beautiful green hill however, behind the picturesque hill, a dark grungy wasteland stretched off into the distance; the words “nothing is ever as it seems” emblazoned against the image. How true that was…on the surface I probably looked like any other person on this broken world we live in but below the facade, a desolate wasteland spoke of my approaching death. Death. To get my mind off the thoughts about death, I scanned the laptop desktop for anything that would pertain to the ankle bracket, the auburn haired lady, the poison in my system and the sinister individual that put me in this situation in the first place. A series of folders lined the one side of her desktop: Referral articles, Sources, Newstories etc. I began to wonder if she was a journalist of some sort…could this have been a lead she was following; suddenly things were starting to make sense. She probably gave me the laptop hoping I’d expose the secret to the world before she died and I was probably chosen randomly because I wouldn’t be associated to her and I could expose whoever it was she was trying to expose. Whoever this guy is…he means business. But why the whole “choice” thing, why the ultimatum – live the miserable life I’ve been living or be a good person for God. Why go through all that trouble when he could have simply killed me and moved on. With these thoughts reeling through my mind, I noticed that on the other side of the screen, well “hidden” in the background were two more folders: Feature-Sinister Suitcase and Journal Entry. I hovered over the folder that referred to her journal but my conscience wouldn’t allow me to pry into someone’s personal life like that – especially when she was dead. There could have been clues in there but I suspected that I’d get far more info from the “Feature” folder rather than a diary entry. True enough when I’d opened the folder, a series of files and large picture thumbnails began to populate the screen, one in particular catching my attention. It was simply a picture of a hand holding a black briefcase against grey chino-pants. From what I could see in the other thumbnails, this was as good a picture of the individual I would get. The others seemed blurry, out of focus and some too far away to make out the person’s features but it was clearly a man – “Mr Sinister” she had chosen to call him. I chuckled at the idea, though my smile faded as I nonchalantly clicked on a document that revealed more about Mr Sinister…and his ankle bracket of death. The first thing that I read, written in bold red font at the top of the document were the words “There is no cure”. The words hit like a sledgehammer. My stomach clenched, my chest seemed to hollow out into a deep black hole that shook the very core of my being. There is no cure. No hope. Nothing – but death. The anguish and despair I felt at that moment…it was indescribable. I read on nonetheless, my vision blurred but my hands wiped away the formed liquid. The words “fiend” and “monster” appeared quite a few times in the document as well as information pertaining to “Mr Sinster’s” apparent plot to sell devices similar to the ankle-bracket that would hold people hostage – and he could, from anywhere, get them to do what he wanted…or face a slow painful death.  Anger and despair fought for precedence as I read through the article a second time – this man, whoever he was, had to be stopped. How many lives could be ruined by his selfishness!? How many lives had been ruined and for what? Financial gain? Power!? What!? But wait…I had sufficient evidence right here to at least get him incarcerated and maybe the suitcase would reveal the plan to be true and he would be held accountable for the auburn lady’s death. Surely that would be something!? And if I died? Another sentence for murder, surely! A sense of justice permeated my thoughts, fueled by my desire to exact some kind of revenge for what Mr Sinister had done to me…to us…and who knows how many others. I rose to my feet, thinking that a shower would help clear my thoughts.
I returned to the room feeling fresh but nauseous – I hoped it wasn’t the poison in my system. I dressed in the clothes I’d taken with me from home, the reality of that situation reminding me of the depth of my predicament. I quickly rummaged through the pants I’d been wearing before, my fingers feeling a thin smooth object within the pocket of the pants. I pulled the object out and almost cried out in a victorious exclamation of joy – it was the auburn lady’s sim card. Now I could get all her contacts, including someone who could use the information she’d compiled to expose Mr Sinister. Yes, things were finally taking a turn for the better – one heroic act of vengeance before I died, then I would escape into a heavenly domain while he rotted in jail before eventually rotting away in hell. Ha! Justice. I quickly shoved the sim card into my pocket, shutting the Laptop down while I thought about where I could get a cheap cellphone to put the sim card in. The shops were my best bet and so with a slight skip in my step, check to see that everything was fine, grabbed the keycard and headed out the room.
I arrived at the lobby somewhat apprehensively, wondering if someone would recognize me if I appeared. Thankfully no-one even took notice of me as I headed out the revolving doors and out into the warm day. I tried to think of where I could find a cellphone shop as I descended the stairs, walking to stand below the giant Y to gather my thoughts. I looked down the street, remembering that I’d come from that direction previously and I did not remember seeing any shops that sold cellphones, so I walked the other way, already plotting in my mind the conversation I would have with whoever it was that I would give the information too – she probably had her editor as a contact, that would be fantastic! I wondered if people on the street were wondering why I was smiling to so much, that was why they were eyeing me so curiously. It was only when a lady screamed “look out!” that I found out why. I was knocked forward from the back, sending me sprawling onto the concrete floor scraping my arms and knee. A heavy weight rested on my back and a familiar voice spat into my ear,
“Yaaaa its you, filthy creep! Yeah, now that I have you, its over! If it wasn’t for you, I’d be living it up elsewhere! Oh but now, I’m going to take it out on you!” Although the voice was familiar, I couldn’t put a face to it, until the man rose up and allowed me to turn around. The grey hair and bushy eyebrows were tinged with red, his left cheek and the left side of his lip was swollen while a red line ran around his neck. I’d barely taken in all these features before I cried out loud from a boot to my side. I tried to roll away from his second attack only to roll against a wall. I managed to block his next kick, my hand gripping his foot and pulling on his swinging foot. The action caused him to flail backwards before toppling back onto the floor. More screams arose from the surrounding people who were shying away from us, but my attention was not on them, or on the security guard – my attention was focused on the black plastic bracket that had been attached to his ankle. He was sobbing too, lying sprawled out on the floor on his back, mumbling something about money and family and work. I rose to my feet, moved towards him and offered him my hand. He looked up at me from the floor, eyed my hand but didn’t take it.
“Look” I said to him, “We are in the same boat now…and I am fighting every urge I have right now to fight you – but I know what you are going through. Instead of fighting one another…why don’t we join forces.” he squinted at me through his one decent eye, rolling onto his knees to pick himself up,
“No. We are as good as dead.

“But if we can work together top stop him we can…”

“There’s no way we can beat that guy, let alone find him.” he moaned. He rose to his feet, arching his back with a painful sigh and a sniffle, “That toxin is in us…there is no cure, sonny-boy, no cure.”
“Yeah I know…but I have information that could help catch that guy, enough to get him into jail at least. He’s got one person dead, that’s murder. With the two of us, that’s another strike against him if…”
“That man is well connected and he knows what he is doing. That’s why he moves around so much and all he needs is that briefcase of his…no. We can’t.”
“Are you not listening! I have evidence! We are evidence!”
“No you are not listening! That man is a ghost! I don’t even know how he found me after…” he looked me straight in the eye, the disgust and loathing visible in how he looked at me, “…after I lost the laptop to you.”
“Exactly! That laptop has the evidence we need, that’s why he wanted it back so badly! We can use it to our advantage! Come on! How many people will die because of him, and yet here we are with enough evidence to stop him!” I knew he was thinking about it, something I said must have changed his mind, given him some hope.
“Uhhh I don’t know…”
“Come on man…one heroic act before we fall.” The older man gave me an unsure look. I wondered if he would  join me. Its was either this or a meaningless, painful death and I was choosing to make use of what little time I had in my life to do something meaningful, even if it meant bringing justice to a murderer through my death.
“I know some of his hang out spots…maybe we can pass that on with your info…and maybe…just maybe we could get this guy.”
“Yeah!” I exclaimed with more vigor than I’d anticipated. He suddenly shoved me against the wall hard, enough to knock air our of my lungs for a few seconds,
“But that doesn’t make us partners, ya hear!?”
“Yes sir” I managed to breathe out, but the smile on my face didn’t fade and after a while, a grin broke out on his face.


Links to previous parts.
Part 1 –
Part 2 –
Part 3 –
Part 4 –

Auburn Part 3 – Unhinging Light


Image courtesy of erez-nusem (

My chest continued to heave even though nothing was coming out, and the viscous splattering on the floor did not help in keeping my lungs in my chest.

I closed my eyes. > What now. <

Death had made himself visible to me, his grip tight around my neck.  My knees wobbled in fatigue and it took what little strength I had to remain standing, moving away from the dead girl and my liquid lunch at my feet. I moved towards the wall where I’d thrown the phone, looking to see where all the pieces had fallen. Despair escaped my lips in the form of a drawn out groan; there was no way that phone could be repaired. I finally let my weakened legs slump and I fell onto the floor, dejected – broken. “What in the world is going on!” I wanted to scream. This is one thing I could never have imagined to happen. The events just happened to so quickly, so suddenly so…coincidentally? Was this all out of coincidence? No it couldn’t be, surely there was a reason to all of this. Surely!

I felt my foot surge with pins and needles, drawing me back to the reality of the situation, to my impending doom, and the sudden sound of a car whooshing by followed by sirens filled my chest up with panic again. As quickly as I could I rose to my feet, ignoring the numbing sensation in my foot as I began to search for my clothes again. I moved back towards my chair, my eyes picking out the scattered items strewn all over the floor. Hurriedly I began to dress, my socks and jeans covering the dark plastic of my “present”. Picking up my hoodie, I saw the phrase written at the back “There is no place like, wondering if maybe the auburn haired lady had thought…but neh it couldn’t be because of that surely. Though the notion didn’t leave my thoughts, I drape the hoodie on and began to look around the room for clues. Something caught my eye under the chair where the auburn lady was still tied , something dark. I hurriedly reached out to take it, cringing away and holding back a scream as her chair creaked but the action changed my perspective and I see something smaller, flat… plastic at the foot of the chair. I tentatively reached out to take it, finding the urge to heave rising up again at the sight of those thickened veins. I took the object and immediately hope began to rise in my chest; its a SIM card. Maybe the man’s phone number was stored on it! Yes! I rose to my feet quickly, stashing the card in my jeans pocket and with one last sweep of the place, rushed out.

I ran through the corridor with its dirty peeling paint, down the stairs and towards the EXIT door. Two things struck me as I pulled the door open and stepped outside: the night was cold and this was not anywhere near the Y Hotel. I knew vaguely where I was but I was not deterred. Sure it was a bad part of town, especially at night, but I felt invigorated by the card in my pocket and the sense that despite the toxins in my blood stream, I could get this fixed. My eyes fell upon the various signs that light up the street, on of them for the Subway but I instead continued to walk down the streets glowing in bright neon signs. I shoved my hands into my jacket pocket, walking towards what I hoped to be the direction of the hotel; that way I could get back to my way home. I began to think about the events that had occurred, the dull throb in my ankle a constant reminder that all this was real…but now what? The man’s words replayed over in my mind “…go back and live the miserable life that you’ve been living…” – was my life really miserable? Quiet maybe but miserable? “…So what will you do with the remainder of your time…” – how much time was there really before the toxin left me cold and dead. I didn’t know the answers to these questions nor did I want to. Who cares how I’d lived my life up till now and why would God care…if there was a God and if there was, why would he let some crazy maniac do this to me! “…you never know if this is all part of God’s redemptive plan…” Redemptive plan? Please.

I was brought out of my thoughts by a group of loud individuals walking down the street towards me, their demeanor playful and somewhat…drunk? I walked further away from them, keeping my head down and avoiding even eye contact with them.

“…and then he said ‘duh its because I’m drunk!’ ” the crowd broke into loud laughter, obviously finding the statement extremely funny. I walked on, aware of how quickly they quietened down as we passed one another. The words “…play with him…” drifted over their hushed tones and without a second thought, I took off running.

“Hey! Come on buddy! Don’t run” They shouted, their footfalls thudding after me, catching up; there was no way I would outrun them with this numb leg. >This is the last thing I need!< I cut through a side alley, bashing into a door that spilled me into the building on my side. I scrambled up to my feet, taking off down what looked like a lobby and towards the back – the place was dim and dilapidated, the tiles gone, rubble and dirt all over the place. I jumped over what remained of the receptionist’s desk at the same time hearing the wails and whistles of my pursuers, bashing into the door like I had.

“Don’t worry, we won’t hurt you duuuuude! Quit running!” Their laughter followed me into the narrow corridor. I rushed on past closed doors, not knowing where in the world I was going but running nonetheless. I did not want to find out what those guys would do if they got to me. I reached the end of the corridor, which turned out to be a dead end and at the same time, the group appeared at the far end. I turned to face them at the same time they all turned to face me. Even from this distance I could sense their demeanor changing from one of mere playfulness to something more…sinister.

“Nowhere to go! Punk” the one in the front shouted. Simultaneously we took off towards each other but I was heading towards the various doors on either side of the corridor trying each one with a turn of the handle and a hard shoulder budge. The first didn’t move. I rushed over the door opposite, shoved. Nothing. Panic began to seep in, slowly, gripping my chest, tightening my lungs. I rushed to the next set of doors. Nothing. The group was closing in faster and I saw a glint of metal that sent me into frenzy. I rushed at the next door, bashing into it with all my might. The door squeaked and yeilded, throwing me into the room. I looked around, saw a window, ran towards it and as the group barged into the door, I flung myself out of the window. If the window wasn’t already cracked, I think I would have hurt myself more than I had as I landed on the pavement with a thud and the sound of glass hitting pavement echoing into the dark street. Screaming suddenly filled my ears but I was already up and moving, only to see bright lights appear, the sound of screeching tires and a familiar face gripping a steering wheel, looking at me with both fear and anger as the car stopped inches away from my shaking knees.

“Hey! You! From the hotel!” >Ah no! Not more trouble!< The older man in the car sure enough was the security guard from before. Not waiting to see what he wanted, I dashed off across the road into the other building, its front doors cordoned off. I heard the raucous laughter of the gang that was following me, followed by the loud yell of the security guard, but I continued on, stopping only when the yell of the security guard became a cry of pain. I stopped dead in my tracks.

“…gaaah…no! That’s…”

“…too late now old man…pay for what that punk….”

“…wait you don’t understa…” My conscience told me to go help, everything else told me to run. I turned back, heading towards the voices and the sudden rush of footfalls heading towards me. I turned a corner and at the same time watched the security guard look up at me and suddenly he was gone. The leader of the gang came to a skidding stop, holding his friends back as they looked down at the floor; a hole stood gaping in front of them. I looked up at them as they looked up at me

“Yo man, I’m getting outta here!” One of the group said, taking off alone. The rest of the members looked at their leader, uncertain, before each one took off leaving the leader standing alone at the edge of the hole. I saw him look down at his feet, a canvas bag of some sort lay there but instead of taking it, the man ran off too.

“Help me! Please!” I heard from within the hole. I ran to it, looking down into the darkness and could barely make out the man. I also noticed that the canvas bag was in fact a laptop bag – the same one that was in my hands not so long ago. Fear, anger and hope surged through me at the same time,

“Hey! I can see you up there! Please help me!”  I looked back down at the man

“This bag! Who?…where…?…How…” I tried to form the question in my mind but couldn’t. Was this man related to the incident with the auburn lady and my condition now?

“Listen, I…I can’t help you but I’m hurt here. Please! Help me!”

“Wait…why do you have this bag!?”

“I…It’s complicated…” I bent down and picked up the bag slinging it around my shoulder, unsure what to do. I scanned the area, looking to see if there was rope or something to help get the man out of the hole. A piece of rope, frayed but steady, hung off to the side so I ran to it picking it up and moving back towards the man,

“Tell me more…who was that lady, why do you have this bag! What’s this all about!”

“Throw down thee rope and I’ll tell you…”

“No!” Anger began to boil as I found someone to point a finger at for this mess I was in “No! No! No! Tell me what this is about!”

“I can’t…he’ll tell you himself…”

“Pass me the rope and I’ll tell you!” I was torn…I wanted to find out who the man was but I was unsure if the security guard would tell me if I got him up here. Finally, with a sigh I dangled the rope over the edge


I threw half of the rope down but as I was, I heard the sound of gunfire. In my shock I let go of the rope completely, looking down into the dim hole to see that the man was holding a gun pointing up towards me. I dodged back at the last second, the moment he let off another shot, a piece of the ceiling above me fell to the floor at my feet. With my rapidly beating heart thumping against my chest I turned away from the hole and ran out the building, wondering who the security guard was and why he was trying to kill me now all of a sudden. With a loud huff I left the building, hearing the man shouting at me from behind and hoping that I’d experienced the last of the drama.

Auburn Part 2


Image courtesy of erez-nusem (

I woke up to the sound of screaming. The scream echoed within my head, drowning out all other sound. I tried to open my eyes, only to realize that they were open and yet I was in complete darkness. Panic seeped in slowly like a snake, subtle at first barely on the surface and within moments, bound tightly within its grasp, squeezed, lungs failing to breathe, life slipping away from groping hands and helplessness severely evident; that was where I was. The temptation to scream overrode my ability to think and I let out what I hoped would be a desperate cry for help. All I managed to do, however, was blow hot air into the dry cloth in my mouth.

“Hush now.” the deep, raspy whisper was so close to my ear that I let out a muffled yelp, my heart thumped in my chest in fear. The darkness intensified my fear, I could feel my body shake and I couldn’t stop it from shaking. Who was that!? Where am I!? What is going on?! That sense of panic squeezed my chest with dread and it took all of my strength not to get into a wild frenzy.

“Please!” I tried to cry, but again the gag only let a muffled whimper escape. Large, cold hands landed on my bare shoulders, pushing me back against what felt like a wooden chair and making me sit. My arms, tied behind my back, were released from their bondage and as I brought them forward, I felt tiny pin prickles and that weird sensation of my arms getting blood flowing in them again.

“Listen up – we are leaving. What you do from here on out is up to you… as it always has been. Nothing has changed of course…well, except for the little present we’ve left you.” At the mention of the word present, the man tugged at something wrapped around my ankle.

“Other than that, go back and live the miserable life that you’ve been living but who knows…” the man sighed with effort and I sensed him stand up, “…we might meet again.” I heard his footfalls fade and the squeak of a door open then the rattle of metal as the door shut closed. I waited for a while, straining my ears and listening for anything that could put me in potential danger. I let at least a minute pass by before I ripped the blind fold from my eyes.  There was no glare of light, as I’d anticipated, but what I saw caused me to shut my eyes anyway; my gag-reflex kicked in and I managed to block the bitter acidic liquid that was already bubbling up my throat.

She was dead…of course. There was no denying the pained, blank expression that adorned her eyes – even without the deep purple cords (veins, I nauseatingly noticed) that crisscrossed up her entire body, as though her arteries had been pumped full of air, short of bursting. I looked around, noting how small the room was – and bare. Still feeling the stinging sensation of rope around my wrists, I rose to my feet, suddenly aware that I was barefoot. The realization almost sent me through another fit of panic, the situation bearing down heavily on my psyche. To keep from panicking, I distracted myself by looking for my clothes, taking care not to look at or touch the auburn haired lady who was still tied to her chair. I found a sock, still half folded from when it had been pulled of my… I quickly looked down towards my foot, seeing the square bracket that had been locked around my ankle. A small groan escaped my lips as the corner of my eye recognized the same device linked around the auburn lady’s ankle; from it, the veins had begun to expand. I reached down to my ankle, giving the device a quick tug. A beep emanated from it, a flash of red followed and a scream shot from my mouth as pins dug into my ankle suddenly. Right at that moment, as though timed, a cellphone ring tone went off somewhere nearby. Still  reeling from the pain and still trying to figure out what that device had done to my ankle and with my mind abuzz with thoughts and the ringing phone, I frantically began searching for the phone to shut off its incessant noise though there was only one place it could really be. I turned to face the woman, tentatively moving towards her and to where I could hear the phone ringing. Quickly and with as much control over my gag-reflex as I could muster, I reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out the phone.

<Private Number>

I answered.

“You have triggered the device…” I recognized the voice immediately, “…as I’m sure you know by now – don’t worry the numbness in your foot will fade eventually.” The man paused as though he were waiting for me to speak; I was rendered speechless however. He continued.

“You now have a set amount of time to live before you look like our red-haired friend over there. Its not a pleasant experience, I can tell you that, feeling your veins bubble and pulse and thicken and there is nothing you ca n do about it” he pulled in his breath sharply as though to emphasize the magnitude of that kind pain; I myself shuddered at the thought.

“Can you remove the device? Sure. But that prick you felt – that was a toxin injected into your blood stream, the magic formula that whittles down your body, every second that its in there, until you are nothing more than a ticking time bomb waiting to explode.” There was a slight pause. “So what will you do with the remainder of your time…maybe something good and constructive, you never know if this is all part of God’s redemptive plan to bring you back to Himself, right?” the man chuckled softly, “Or…go the other way and live life to the fullest for who knows…tomorrow you could be dead.” He laughed heartily, merrily, and my hand that was holding the phone clenched. The rage that blinded me and shut my ears against the laughing maniac didn’t merely simmer or boil; it simply exploded; With all that rage overwhelming me, I hurled the phone, hard, towards the wall where I watched the gadget shatter into pieces. At that exact moment, I felt my gut lurch as I realized that the phone was my only connection to the man who had done this to me, the only one who can reverse it; my last hope. With that final realization, I could no longer hold back the rushing bitterness crawling up my throat. I heaved onto the floor.

Nuts and Bolts – Short

6M5vs - Imgur

A soft drone emanated from somewhere within the bright white space that surrounded me. The corners of my vision were blurred, making everything look ethereal. Had I believed in heaven, I would’ve wondered if this was it…but I knew that wasn’t the case- not for me anyway. A dark silhouette, hazy like an apparition, appeared above me and with it the incessant drone grew louder. It took but a moment to realize that the moving silhouette and the drone correlated but by then I felt more than heard my screams as the drone vibrated against my skull and darkness took over…

but I wasn’t dying…

or dead.

“…you annoy me…” I heard against my ear from within the darkness. The voice, feminine, sounded familiar however I could not place it.
“Who…wh…” She cut me off with a tired sigh, the drone fading
“Just relax a while. I’m still running the analysis.”
“What analys…” A surge of energy shot through my entire body, jolting me upright. Vision returned to me as well as my memory, flooding back in a stream of flashing images.

“I tried again didn’t I.” I said, more as a statement than a question; there was no need for her to answer.

…Another failed attempt…

I reached up towards my forehead, feeling the traces of metal below the frayed skin. She brushed the fringe of white hair off her forehead, tucking it behind her ear with practiced ease, turning away from me as she did.

“You will continue to fail…that is how it is…” She walked away from me towards the door, her bare feet seeming to glide across floor with each step she took; her black toenails stood stark against the white floor. I could barely remember the first time I met her. It was such a long time ago, a time when I was…not just nuts and bolts. She turned as she reached the door,

“This is who you are now…accept your fate.”

Creating New Worlds – The Golden Thread

There is something about writing that makes my entire body restlessly ruffled up. Like a feather stuck in the ground, immovable and yet unable to prevent itself from swaying against the billowing wind. Somewhat of an oxymoron isn’t it? Immovable yet swaying? Picture that why don’t you.

Recently I’ve been going through a horrible spat of events that both inspire and dissuade me to write. At times I sit in front of the computer, begin to etch characters into the fabric of a fictional reality and feel goosebumps ooze over my arms as worlds unfold in front of my eyes then suddenly; Nothing. Just nothing. Who ARE these characters? I ask myself. This is followed by a torrent of related questions: where are they headed and why? What is their purpose? What am I trying to get to with this? What is this story actually about? And the conclusion I come to each time is; I have no idea.

Yesterday I touched on a burden of mine that has been troubling me for…well since my conversation, and the desire I have to present God in every aspect of my life including my writing has been my source of inspiration since. I find that without God, life is painfully meaningless and void; we endure life, pain, death, love and all other aspects of humanity in vain. What good is morality if in the end we as dust return to it without consequence;  let the lions endure the pain of regret and the hardship of prison for the death of the zebra. Let them contemplate their purpose in life and lament over their murderous, sinful hearts. Ridiculous isn’t it? Well then ask yourself this question; What is the difference between them and us? Is it our minds? Our ability to talk? Is it because we are highly evolved animals that no longer conform to our bestial nature? No! It is because we are made in the image (likeness) of God (Gen1:26).

Creating New Worlds


Although there haven’t been any  new posts on this blog for a while, this doesn’t mean I haven’t been writing. I just haven’t written anything good enough that it is worth sharing here. In fact my WordPress “Posts” page has a few unpublished drafts  that I have been working on. Unfortunately they all are missing the Golden Thread that weaves them together, binding them to the crux of my convictions or thoughts; they are hanging on a bare thread that is as brittle as dry twigs.

Thankfully, writing for Gamecca (a Gaming magazine) has helped keep my sword sharp and I do feel less guilty about my lack of publishing any posts. However during this continuous search for the Golden Thread and with all that I have written so far, things have began to roll into place like solving a Rubik’s cube. Previously written stories and currently drafted ideas, pieced together like a well written detective story that has started dotting its i’s and crossing its t’s. I mean this has come together so well that I’m laying out a foundation for a “new” world in which my characters will live, incorporating previously unrelated characters and events into a single environment. Just writing this and the ideas formulating in my mind as to how I’m going to go about it has me intensely excited. I already have a plausible idea for what my Golden Thread will be!

The Golden Thread

sunrise1 What then is the Golden Thread? It is the glue that holds everything together; the cause that drives the hero forward, the intention hidden within the villain, the inspiration that holds the village together. It is the hinge on which everything hangs; without it, all becomes naught. Love may be the Golden Thread of a romantic novel but who is the author of love? Where does the conviction that drives the actions of the “good guy” stem from? Morality? Good works? Love? Justice? Righteousness? Vengeance? Anger? They all stem from one Being who displays all these characteristics perfectly and without sin!

Where does all this lead me? Well keep on visiting the blog and you shall find out! In the mean time, may you have a glorious time worshipping the One true God…Who is One in Three persons.

Rajat Narula

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