Month: December 2012

By Nosphio

“Well, hey there, you pretty little girl you.” …and there he was, one on one with his uninvited company, and she didn’t speak back to his comment. He sees that she’s naked, her beautiful form stands before him without judgment, and she appears to know he is enjoying the gaze. He guesses she’s about six years old, maybe seven, “damn, she looks fine for being six,” he thinks to himself. He’s been around the girls long enough to guess an age within moments and he’s never over a year from the guess; he gets excited with a grim grin now set upon his face. He stares deep into her eyes, her wild eyes, and she only blinks but never releases the hold. He steps forward, slowly, inviting, but she coils back in response to his advance; no words, still staring at the other. Still holding his smile, he starts softly humming at her, leaving out a hand and takes another slow eventful step towards her, to his goal, his desire for her. She considers moving forward…

“Why don’t you come inside and get yourself warm. You look lost, girl. I was fixing to make dinner, and you’re welcome to come inside and get some food.

There’s a few girls and a boy here that you could make friends with real quick-like, but not after I’m done getting to know you better tonight, if you
catch my drift.” She only blinks. He notices that she’s wearing a very pretty red and golden necklace and it looks expensive, and that’s the only thing on her fragile frame, her gorgeous supple body… Even in her age, she yearns for another man’s touch, gently stroking her sensitive areas and begging for more, knowing this stranger man would gladly deliver what she craves most.

“I have strong hands, but don’t you worry, I would never hurt someone with a pretty face like yours, girlie.” She now takes two steps forward, but remains still; she’s naked, after all, a girl can never be too careful, especially at night. She’s shivering, partly from the cool air, and from being afraid. So cold is the crisp air of the evening’s breath, blowing gently up and down her body, but she doesn’t hold herself… she wants the man to accept her for who she is and what she looks like.

There is no other way than to take action; he now knows what he must do to get the girl inside his house for the night, and maybe longer if no one knows she’s missing. He wants to touch her, he needs her, and damn it, he will get her inside his house and lock the door… no matter what it takes. He smiles from ear to ear, still staring at her for a few more seconds before making his sudden move.

The man crouches down and starts slapping his knees excitedly, “Here, girl! Come here!” and he starts to whistle. She wags her tail, barks a few times, and leaps forward, giving the stranger a few licks. He starts to pet down the coat on her back; she loves it! He checks out her collar to see if there are any tags, but there are none. Looks like she found a new home with a wonderful owner!

By Lonnie Benson

The air was as cold and bitter as a witch’s tit. A few figures made their way through a tunnel that might have once been a hallway, full of random urban debris and dust that reflected what little light peaked through the cracks from the outside.

It was deep into the 21^st or maybe even 22^nd century, but it really didn’t matter. The Second Nuclear Age had become every bit as empowering as optimists had hoped, and yet as bad as was feared in the Cold War. The world wasn’t scoured entirely with scars from nuclear bombs, yet nuclear winter blanketed the skies of earth’s major cities, destroyed as a result. Interestingly enough, it was thanks to sabotage by an independent group of terrorists that were vehemently against the new popular energy source. Manhattan, for instance, got nearly all of its energy from Enercom’s conveniently placed nuclear reactor right in the middle of the island.

For decades, the reactor and administration buildings proudly stood with the rest of Manhattan’s famous skyline, a beacon of truly clean energy. The conglomerate was the first to insist and implement a new way of harnessing the power of the atom, proving it to be the most stable with the highest output yet—so safe and controlled, that it could efficiently and inexpensively power all of New York City (and then some!) right in Manhattan, with virtually no threat to its inhabitants. Many independent groups insisted that it was spewing out radiation that would eventually spread globally, infecting untold numbers of humans and other animals in ways nobody was ready for. The busy businessmen, natives of the island, often and reluctantly carried Geiger counters as they flooded and raced the streets on their way to and from meetings, unsure of how safe it could ever be to be so close to a nuclear power plant; yet, none ever even blipped in the running history of the plant. It truly was every bit as safe as was promised!

The determined ecoterrorists knew better. There had to be some undetectable radiation given off. There is no free lunch, and no fathomable way so much energy would and could be produced so cleanly. They knew better! They spent decades planning to topple the energy giant, insisting on rectifying the corruption Enercom spread as it quickly rose to the top. All of their infiltration missions had failed, and no evidence could be found to pin against Enercom. Why would the top floors of the Enercom building be so heavily lead-lined though? Why did the corporate bigwigs insist on bomb-proofing much of the top half of the skyscraper during construction if it was so safe? What were they hiding, and why? The constant espionage of the 13 Chimps unearthed nothing sinister, and there simply was no secret plot unearthed…so they did the most reasonable thing an ecoterrorist group would do. They blew it up.

Nobody knows or remembers who struck first of the various nuclear-capable countries, but it seemed to happen all around the same time. The 13 Chimps saw their window of opportunity and smashed it with a sledgehammer. As with the majority of the United States, Manhattan wasn’t ravaged by nuclear weaponry, or infested with radiation, but ecoterrorists are nothing if not determined, so they fixed the problem by destroying the reactor from the inside out. It was almost poetic really, as they sacrificed their lives to achieve their penultimate life goal, perpetuating the mutually assured destruction that already shifted the world everywhere else.

The initial explosion of the reactor, (or quantum mechanics or something—most of the science nerds had retreated or perished, so nobody really knows) rocked the island, decimating everything within a few hundred yards that surrounded it; everything, of course, except for the shining beacon of hope that was the seemingly untouched administration building.

Actually, it was somewhere in the remnants of the reactor that was shining. With a thick soup of black overcast preventing any sunlight through, the unnatural illumination was the only light source for the island. Those Geiger counters did come in handy though, as survivors quickly noticed that the beams of cracked light that showed the way to the only truly safe building around also contained annoying amounts of radiation. The convenient hand-held devices would crackle whenever someone wandered too close to a nook or cranny that radiation stalked in. Science had fortunately blessed the so fortunate, lucky survivors with RadAway, nifty spongy packs that absorbed harmful radiation before it would ravage the body. They initially sold well, but the public had little use for them.

Occasionally, the figures would find some of them scattered amongst the rubble. Sometimes there would be one or two stashed in a drawer or cabinet somewhere, but they were just temporary band-aids until the gang made it to the remaining Enercom structure. They would search the rooms of the hallways, but ultimately, they found their misery merely delayed by each discovery, returning to the hallways of buildings once thriving with life; once stuffed with pedestrian passers-by, but now decrepit and aged.Would they ever make it? And if they did, what then? What would they find at the top of that tower? Were there more survivors that were unscathed, or could they be some of the last living animals on the island? Would it matter?

By Taylor Masella

“Come on David, we’ve really got to go,” called Ava, as the rain began to fall.

“A few more minutes and I think we can get that buck,” said David, eagerly.

“My Uncle Rick’s cabin is a least a half hour away and I don’t want to get soaked. Come on, let’s go.”

“All right,” David replied, sullenly. “Relax.”

The two of them were spending the week at the cabin Ava’s uncle had bought twenty-six years ago. David and Ava had both grown up in Hardin, a small town in northern Tennessee. David had later moved to Dickson city but he often returned for a week at a time on hunting trips. Since the two had been friends since meeting in middle school, Ava let David use her uncle’s cabin and sometimes she would even join him for a few days.

Though they had enjoyed their time together, the hunting was lousy. David had been determined to score a kill by the end of the day, but with the rain falling harder, and lightning crashing now and then, even he had to admit it was time to hurry back.

The two began to head towards their cabin, but on the way, they came across a thick clump of bushes and vines. They could have gone around, but the rain was coming down in droves and the thicket stretched in each direction as far as they could see. As the two fought their way through the undergrowth, it grew thicker at first but then began to thin out and they found themselves in a tiny clearing with a rickety cabin stationed in the middle. Ava hurried on by, but David paused to look at it for a moment.

“Come on David, we don’t have time to stop. It’s raining and once it gets dark we’ll really be in trouble.”

“But look at this thing,” David replied, “it’s gotta be fifty years old.”

“David, I don’t think we’re even on my uncle’s property anymore. I don’t remember him having a shack.”

“You told me your uncle’s property was huge. Besides, it looks abandoned anyway.”

But Ava was afraid. “I don’t feel like we belong here David. We gotta go now.”

“No way. We didn’t even find one stupid rabbit. I’m not gonna count this day a total loss. I’m going inside.”

Though Ava pleaded with him, and even threatened him, David was driven by that curiosity that drives all men of his age. Undeterred, David approached the cabin, lifted the latch, and ducked inside. The cabin smelled strangely sweet—it was a smell he faintly recognized. The only light in the cabin came from outside, seeping through the cracked, wooden walls. Though the light was pure, the twisted boards deformed it, casting strangely shaped shadows on everything so that it was hard to discern what exactly was in the room. David did see a picture on the wall. It was of a man and a woman sitting on a bench at the park. But though the man looked at her, lovingly holding her hand, her gaze was distant, focused on someone outside the picture. David stepped further into the cabin, towards the letter and bumped into a table. On the table lay a letter. All he could make out was something about killing a man who cost someone his job. Ridiculous, thought David, who would go that far over a job? David stepped closer trying to see the letter more clearly, and as he did,
something caught his eye. In the corner of the room stood a cage. Just then, he heard Ava calling from outside.

“David? Come on David, we really need to go.”

David considered leaving for a moment, but he saw a faint glimmer coming from inside the cage. He crept slowly over, and bent down to get a better look. There were two tiny gleams now. David bent down closer, trying to determine what they were. He lurched back as he realized that they were the eyes of a man, staring back at him. David looked at the man in fear but the man gazed back at him with those big, steady eyes. He wanted to run but those eyes held him there, firmly. In them, David could see an entire world: all the things he had ever wanted but knew he couldn’t have. The man was as old as the land itself, gnarled and withered from lack of action. But as David stared into those big round eyes, the man suddenly grew strong and lurched at the bars. He began tearing at them and would have broken through except that David panicked and turned to run. As he turned, his gaze left the man’s eyes and the man instantly became old and feeble once again. David realized this but did not stop to see what would happen next. Instead, he ran out of the house, across the clearing and, grabbing Ava by the arm, he fled all the way back to their cabin.

—

For a time, the two friends worked in silence. They washed the mud off their boots and changed into dry clothes. Finally, Ava broke the silence.

“Dave, what was in the cabin?”

David scrubbed the mud off his hands. “Nothing.”

“Why did you freak out then?

David slowly dried his hands, then walked to the couch and sat down. She waited for a response, but he just sat there, staring at the fire. Ava knew he didn’t want to talk but she was scared. Anything that shook David like that must have been serious. And he was not just scared, he was different. She noticed that he looked at her differently, spoke to her differently. They had always been friends, but something in his eyes told her that had changed.

“I’m not going back there,” he said. But he seemed to speak more to himself then to her.

The whole night long, David lay awake, thinking. He thought about Ava, and about the things he had seen in the cabin. He knew how that man in the picture must have felt when he found out the woman’s heart was elsewhere. And that letter on the table; maybe some jobs were worth killing over. He especially thought about the old man and how quickly he had become strong. His eyes in particular haunted David. In those eyes, he had seen his own losses, his passions, his anger, his greatest desires. He had seen in them every forbidden thing he had ever wished for but had been denied.

The next day, David worked hard to forget the man. He told himself the man didn’t exist. When that didn’t work, he tried to convince his mind that he didn’t desire what the man had to offer. But it was no use, for intellect alone could not deny the passions of the heart. He longed to look into the old man’s
eyes and see once again those things he grieved the most, hated the most, desired the most. He was terrified of the strength the man had gained when their gazes met for the first time. But though he greatly feared and even hated the man, in the end, his eyes would lure David back.

The next two days dragged by. David became increasingly withdrawn. He sometimes thought that he could hear the man speaking softly to him. He told David that he should be happy; nothing should stand in the way. Distraught, Ava did not know what to do with him. The way he talked to her and treated her made her nervous. She tried talking to him again and again but he only withdrew, refusing to respond.

Then one night, a few days after they had found the cabin, David decided to return and see the man once again. He would not stay long, a few minutes
perhaps, just long enough to glance into his eyes once again and see the things he desired above all else. After Ava had fallen asleep, David crept through
their cabin and out the door. The night air was fresh and light. The moon shone brightly, casting shadows everywhere. At first David walked slowly for he was afraid of the man and he somewhat dreaded what might happen when he arrived. As David traveled on though, his thoughts of the man’s strength waned and his desire for another glimpse into the man’s eyes only intensified.

After about an hour, David reached the thicket and pushed his way through it and into the clearing. He paused for a moment, then stepped boldly towards the front door. He lifted the latch and pushed gently. The old wooden door gave. David paused again, waiting for his eyes to adjust. There was some moonlight outside but the cabin had no widows and once again, the only light was that which had managed to slip through the rotted plank walls. David spotted the cage and crept towards it. Inside, the old man sat as if waiting for David. He looked a little larger and less twisted than he had before. Perhaps he had retained some of his strength?

The entire night, David had felt uncomfortable—unsure of what he was doing. But as he stared into the man’s eyes once again, he was filled with passion. The love, the anger and the grief, all of the lust, envy and desire he carried with him were revealed in those two small beads of light. Vigorous and strong, David’s chest began to heave. He knew he was losing control of himself, but it felt good. He was tired of controlling his passions.

As before, when David looked into the man’s eyes, the man grew larger and stronger. He grabbed the bars and his muscles began to flex. David saw it. He
knew what was happening. But he was caught. He could not tear his eyes away from the man’s gaze. Under the man’s great strength, the bars bent and then snapped. The man leapt out of the cage, but David dodged him like a cat and fled out the door. He ran, blindly crashing through the thicket and into the woods. Branches smacked his face, vines tore at his body. David did not look back but he could hear the man close at his heels. He could feel him breathing on his back. As David ran, the man’s strength began to wane, for the man was empowered not by his own body, but by the strength of those who looked at his eyes. He held little power over those who fled his might. As David ran, he suddenly fell into a shallow gulley. He thought to get up, but he was growing tired of running, and decided to stay and hide.

As David crouched, he listened intently. The soft crunch of leaves approached, then ceased.

“Come here David,” his words were smooth yet piercing. “You know you cannot escape from me for you know who I am. I am there when you are cheated and full of hate, when you are jealous, when you are sad and when you desire what you can never obtain. I am always there.”

Distraught, David replied in a weak voice, “I’ll run. And you won’t be able to follow me. I will never look into your eyes and you will fade and die. I–”

“You may hide from your friends and family. But I will always find you out. I have followed you from birth, and I will follow you until death. You have always been mine and in the end you will be mine. Had you looked at me once you might have gotten away, but you have looked at me twice and there is no escape. I am in you and I am you.”

David heard these words. And though he feared the man and thought to flee, he knew that the man was right. Having gazed so intently into his eyes, David could never be free—he was his own prisoner.

David climbed out of the gully. He walked slowly over to where the man was waiting, sorry he had released this monster in the first place. The man reached out to grab David and destroy him for good…

“Stop!”

Ava’s voice sounded shrill in the stillness of the night. She had heard David leave and had followed him there. Now she stood, pointing his hunting rifle at
the man. The man laughed then, not cruelly, but the way someone laughs at a child. He stepped towards her. She shut her eyes and squeezed the trigger. Bang! The bullet crumpled like paper against his chest and dropped harmlessly. Then the man grabbed her and in one quick motion smashed her into the ground. He looked at David and, satisfied with his work, he headed back to his cabin.

Frozen, David stood there, looking at Ava’s limp body—the work of his own hands. That should be me, he thought in utter horror. I didn’t think I would come to harm gazing into that man’s eyes, and I never dreamed he could do this to
someone else—someone I loved.

David gathered Ava into his arms. That night, he drove back to Hardin and three days later, they buried Ava. He didn’t go to the funeral.

I am your forbidden passions and desires.

I am the lusts of your heart.

Wherever you go, wherever you flee

I am there.

What will you do?