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  • A Shadow

    An old poem… back up front.. 🙂

    kingsboro2008's avatarMatthew R. Stitt // The Writer’s Archive

    A silhouette standing alone above the water.

    His black overcoat blowing in the wind.

    A large black hat tilted to cover his face.

    He stands alone on the rocks above the ocean.

    With his haves in his pockets he stands quietly.

    Grabbing his hat when the wind blows, as the rain falls.

    Living in a world that will never falter,

    He listens as if the water calls.

    Disappearing as the walls of water break over the rocks.

    Raising his head, he’s engulfed in the mist.

    The skies clear and the shadows gone.

    Has he gone over the edge?

    … or was he ever there?

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  • Coward

    “Mary Stop!”  Dontarius screams as his wife steps from the small hut that serves as home.

    “I forbid you from seeing Herocies.  NO… you can’t do this too me!”

    Mary looks back.  Seconds seem to stretch into hours as Dontarius watches the flame within his wife’s eyes flicker.  It was then that he realized that his wife was lost to him.

    Dontarius fell to the floor of the hut and stared upward at the thatch roof.  He picked out small areas in the roof that showed daylight and waited for his wife to disappear.  The silence was unbearable and Dontarius looked toward the door.  The reeds swung from the top of the door.  His wife was gone.  Dontarius screwed up his nose in frustration and screamed.

    He stood and walked to the door and stepped out.  Mary stood, just outside the hut.  She was crying.

    “No, this is over like you said,” Dontarius shouted.  The village of Rosemary was located along the Heracleus River.  Dontarius and Mary lived on an outcropping above the village.  Dontarius realized that large men, dressed in dull gray armor stood over what was left of the village.  He was at a loss and stood quietly staring at the scene below.

    “Are you going to do anything?”  Mary shouted.

    Dontarius examined the scene ahead of him.  He counted ten heavily armored men with large swords.  They walked through the village methodically pulling residents from the small huts and then piercing them with the sword.  Dontarius realized that this raid was sanctioned.  The soldiers did what they were told but they resisted.  They could easily finish the job with far more violence.  He could would have to do something to frighten the soldiers from the village.

    “We would have to frighten them off,” he said as he continued to think.

    “Frighten them off.  These are soldiers.  How are you supposed to frighten off damn soldiers.” Mary shouted.  She was hysterical and they were noticed.  A soldier spotted them and pointed upward toward them.  Mary screamed and turned.  She screamed a second time and fell to her knees.  Dontarius turned to find a large spectre staring down from above him.  The beast stood seven-feet tall and hovered an additional two feet off the ground.  Dontarius knew who and what this was and he knew his running was over.

    “Dontarius,” began the spectre.  “You dare to run from me.  Your flight has brought shame and destruction upon your family.  Your wife is now dead because you failed to keep your word to me.”

    “NO…No!  Do not take my wife,” Dontarius pleaded.

    “It’s too late.  She is already mine.  Your debt is now paid.  You will now live the rest of your life cursed with Cowardice.”

  • The Jidra

    A good friend’s video series on monsters

    — check it out

    The Jidra

  • The terrible conversation

    Vicki’s voice gave out.  She stood staring at the sheet-white ghost in front of her.

    Derik, standing in front of this beautiful brunette, began to speak but the woman screamed again.  Her scream was broken.  She suddenly coughed.

    “Are you alright?”  Derik blurted

    Vicki’s throat hurt.  The ghost’s concern for her was shocking and immediately stopped her screaming.

    “Am I alright!” Vicki replied.  “Why are you haunting my house?”

    The ghost flickered and disappeared.  He reappeared in on Vicki’s left.

    “I’m not haunting your house, your haunting mine.. ”

    — Ugh.. this is terrible.  I am bored writing this conversation.  The idea was that a ghost would have a conversation with a frightened victim.  I’m having several bad weeks as far as writing goes.  I just don’t want to do anything.  My novel is sitting in limbo because I cannot get them through a field of grass.  My first draft coasted right through everything but it was like my characters rode on butter.  A critic told me that I missed many opportunities to expand and get into details.

    So that’s what I started to do.  Initially, I had this energy.  “I can do it!”  Then nothing.  I’m stressing over many things at the moment.  I’m behind in my knowledge level at work.  I’m behind on my art projects.  I’m trying to get into digital art.

    For a guy that has been drawing with a pencil for what??  Twenty-some years, changing my medium seems impossible.  I have a new shop at Threadless.com called Broken Stick.  I’m trying to put some art up but they are looking for vector graphics and all this new stuff.  I’ve dabbled over the years in this stuff but I am just losing my touch and I need a new Tablet and Pen to draw on.  It’s all about the Tablet…

    I imagine myself drawing and having a good old time on my drawing tablet.  My expensive drawing tablet but reality says you get this little Wacom with a missing pen.. 😦

    I’m feeling like a downer today.. not my typical post.. I’m just so overwhelmed with everything.

    I will keep living and talk to you later. 🙂

  • Monster Movies

    Monster Movies

    Jack Flacco's avatarLooking to God

    Monster movies have always captured my imagination. When I was a kid, a Sunday afternoon wouldn’t be the same without watching Godzilla and all the other Japanese monsters wreaking havoc on Tokyo. Back then, it was the thing to do. We had those twenty-four-inch TVs with mono sound and low-res images that sparked our interest and carried us through the weekend.

    Godzilla Godzilla

    For today’s Monday Mayhem, I would like to delve into my liking of monster movies, why I like certain ones and the impact they have made on my life.

    Godzilla—As I stated in the intro, Godzilla was the movie series my friends and I loved and would gather after school to talk about. Yeah, you could have considered me a nerd. In the earlier movies, which were films filmed in Japanese, brought overseas and translated for the English-speaking audience, Godzilla was anything but pleasant. In the…

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  • NBC’s Hannibal

    I need to write something.  I want to continue with my re-edit but I just can’t.  I’m really distracted.  Television, of course, is part of my problem right now.  NBC’s Hannibal is so vivid and emotion-driven that it robs the creativity from the air.  I’m just drawn to the show and have no idea whats going to happen next.

    The use of color in this series is unprecedented.  I’ve never actually seen anything like this.  Unfortunately, the series is scheduled to end after this summer.  I heard a rumor that it may have a life on Netflix or Amazon but that’s never certain.

    Uhm…

    As a writer I’m always poking around inside my head.  I’ve always wondered what happens within the head of a killer like Hannibal and I think this show does a wonderful job but it’s also so complicated.  The stories overlapping and also branching out in mysterious ways.  I forget the name of this current killer.  It’s part of the Silence of the Lambs movie.. ah.. I remember, I think, Buffalo Bill?  Right?  …. But there was another killer in that movie but I don’t remember his name.

    Uh Oh.. This guy is starting to lose it.  😦

    Looks like the lady with him may live another day.  This killer is so lost in his own head, as a lot of killers seem to be on the movies/tv.

    Unfortunately, I will miss part of this but that’s ok… life moves on..

    Thanks for listening to my little commentary on Hannibal.  I successfully wrote something today which is wonderful 🙂  This blog is the best thing going for my writing.  It forces me to just type and stop judging my material.

    Alright, have a good night.

  • The Pegasus and her Rider

    The Ultimate Monster.. I am a huge fan of Pegasaus

    nebelungdiane12's avatartime2bholy

    I couldn’t believe he had chosen me. I was the youngest and there was nothing extraordinary about me. I hadn’t even learned how to fly yet. But nonetheless, there he was, looking at me. This was the the night I had been waitng for. As he felt my wings, a sensation I had never felt overtook me and I neighted quietly at him as I nuzzled his shoulder. I looked at him and saw that he was different then the rest. I also saw his wings. They were like mine, but smaller and not fully formed. His orange eyes stared at me, leaving me to wonder what was going on in his mind. I noticed how much shorter he was then most of his kind were. Maybe he was like me in more then one way. Maybe he was the youngest. His blue skin matched the light blue hue of…

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  • Annabelle’s Surprise

    nebelungdiane12's avatartime2bholy

    “You know it’s not going to work, they never do!” She scoffed at the man who was deemed eccentric by the whole town.
    She tried many times defending him and his inventions but soon she too became the center of the town’s gossip. It was hard being the daughter of an inventor, but it was even harder to be the daughter of the “crazy man.” She looked at the contraption and wondered what he was doing this time. All she could see was steam coming out of it as it transplanted a green liquid into a blue froth. She didn’t know a lot about chemistry but she knew enough to not mix liquids together.
    “Oh, I’m sure it will work this time, Annabelle.” He managed to say as he concentrated deeply on the two liquids emerging together.
    She sighed as she left him to his work. When was he going…

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  • My poem

    My poem

    nebelungdiane12's avatartime2bholy

    This is a poem that came out of the darkest time in my life.  I keep it to reflect back on what God has done for me.  He has blessed me immeasurably.  He’s given me more then, I could ever deserve.  I don’t deserve Him, but He gave Himself up for me.

    BELONGING

    Numbness, emptiness.

    Loneliness, heartache.

    Where do I go from here?road

    Pain, frustration,

    Agony, torment,

    Never knowing where to go.

    Sadness, disparity,

    Anger, depression,

    Help me!

    I don’t know where I am!

    I don’t belong here!

    I don’t know where I belong.

    This world I cannot accept.

    But yet this is where I live.

    I want to call this place home,

    But I am unwilling.

    With all its majesty

    And its beauty,

    The faults and errors

    Are strong.

    They overwhelm me

    As I try to hide away.

    I need, I want a place to call

    Home.

    Confusion runs…

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  • Shoot Them!

    The guards in front stepped to the side and the group was pushed into the prison.  Within moments the infected appeared within the tall grass.  The guards pushed the small crowd forward as the infected stepped closer.  The prisoners near the front of the group began to panic and peeled from the makeshift circle and ran toward the gate.  The guards shouted as they approached.  They rushed to close the gate.  Several prisoners screamed as the exit closed.  The rest of the group stood within a hungry horde of infected.

    Erik stood within the small group of prisoners.  The first ten had disappeared into the tall grass, most had been eaten by the cannibalist infected.  This left ten stranded between the steel gate and human cruelty and an unnatural cruelty created by science.

    Erik knew something about he infected, he was the Butcher.  It was a nickname that Erik partially expected when he took over as spokesman of Viacantone Pharmaceutical.  Especially, after the explosion and the invasion of infected.  The irony wasn’t lost on Erik either.  Ransom was where everything started.  Erik had fled for many years only to come back after his family died.  It was inevitable he would be caught drunk under the only bridge in town.

    As everyone chattered loudly and stepped into a tight circle Erik stared at the infected thinking.  “A bacterial meningitis sets in within hours of initial infection.  The first indication of infection are large patches of acne-like lesions that climb from the chest to the neck.  The bacteria overwhelms the body and quickly kills the human parts of the brain leaving a monster-like host that only wants to spread the infection.  Cancerous melanoma develops after several weeks causing blindness.”

    “They are blind,” Erik shouts but it’s barely audible through the noise.  Erik steps forward.  The crowd of prisoners surges forward.  Sean and Andrew Baker bum rush one infected each and shove them to the ground.  A taller gentleman walks carefully between the two infected and immediately becomes entangled in the flailing arms of the infected.  Erik side steps the taller man and follows the Baker brothers.  An infected woman, in a tattered business suit, steps up to Erik from the side.  Erik leaps forward and away from her outstretched arms.  He then slows, watching the two Baker brothers fight off the infected as they go.  He begins to walk, listening as he steps forward.  Erik measures each step to reduce noise.  He approaches a pair of infected on the right.  The pair stumble past Erik, one brushing inches from his shoulder but neither recognize Erik as anything useful.

    Erik follows the pair back toward the gate.  They head toward a group of prisoners tangled within the infected.  Erik noticed a foreigner wrestling within the group.  His skin, dark as night, coalesces with his height causing him to stick out within the mass of screams and throws.  The foreigner frees the other man from the infected and steps away.  He assists the injured man as he moans.  They limp along followed by the infected.  Erik turns and walks forward, careful to make as little noise as possible.

    A group of infected walk slowly toward Erik and the others.  Erik held in severe anxiety as the group stumbled close to him.