The Fine Print: Something New!!!!

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Something New!!!!

Have you ever had a situation in your life frustrate you so much that you secretly wish evil on the people responsible? It is not really a good feeling, and the lack of control you have about it just seems to add to the problem. I must confess, it has affected myself and my family deeply.
Although I believe in Karma, and that you should never wish harm on anyone else, it has brought me to a place where I may have always known that I might arrive. Judge for yourself as I divulge the briefest part on my psyche on this, and a brief look into something that I know will envelope into the darkest part of what I wasn't sure I could write...Horror writing.

The Post

By : Dennis Stein

The fog in his mind began to clear slowly as he shook himself awake, trying to regain the memory of what was happening. He could not move very well, and the flat of the concrete floor was cold against his dress shirt. As the rush of information flooded his brain, he struggled against the plastic tie wraps which secured his wrists and ankles. He hurt. A thin line of blood on the concrete below his face came into his blurred view, his glasses missing. He tried to focus on the floor. He hadn’t bled too much, but his head was swimming with the pain of a brutal assault. As the haze lifted from his memory, he realized that he was in his own garage. Only a few feet away, his BMW sat silently, a quiet spectator to his pain. The fluorescent lights above gave a barely audible hum, their light reflecting off the pale grey of the concrete floor.

The dust made him cough suddenly, the light cloud rising from the floor, as he spat out fresh stripes of dark red blood. His ribs hurt bad. It was from the kicking. Disembodied thoughts floated in his mind as he attempted to roll on his side, despite the pain. His vision continued to play tricks on him as he fought to move, knowing that he was injured badly. He squinted his eyes, trying to focus on his surroundings, wondering where she was. It was a ‘she’. He was positive about that. His cheek stung as he laid his face on the floor, another injury she had inflicted on him. As his memory came back, he thrashed about, sure that she was still in the garage somewhere. The pain stopped him, and he suddenly went limp, the dark cloud of his pain overwhelming him. He laid on his side, concentrating on his breathing. That was what the psychologist had told him again and again. Focus on something pleasant, and pay attention to some deep, cleansing breaths...He couldn't get past the coppery taste of the blood in his mouth and throat, it was more than a smell, more like an essence behind his swelled face.

A shadow fell over him suddenly, blocking the bright white light of the fluorescent tubes above, shocking his eyes into focus on what hovered above him. It was her. He sucked in a breath as she leaned down over his inert body, looking at him with predator's eyes. Black eyes filled with something he could not understand. He felt the goose flesh rise on his arms and the muscles tense in the back of his neck as he watched her lean in toward his face, her eyes filling his blurred vision. His heart pounded blood, and his ears beat with the flow. Every fibre in his body tensed as she leaned in closer, examining him. He heard something. the sound of metal. He craned his head sideways toward the sound, looking for its source. He squinted again, bringing the edge of the blade dragging along the dusty concrete into his view. It was an axe...

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New Stuff!

Space Mail

The main console came to life, and LEDs began to light up everywhere in the darkened cockpit. It had been three months in cruise mode, and an audible beeping woke her from cryogenic sleep. Kara was drowsy, not with it yet. The computers came back online slowly, and the bay where she slept lit with a faint light. She was cold. Yawning and rubbing at her eyes, she sat up, sweeping blonde hair out of her face. The console was flashing with an indicator for a message waiting. Can’t even wait for me to be conscious, she thought sarcastically. There were several hours to spare before there was any need to make corrective maneuvers in her ship’s course in order to dock with the atoll, so she reached for her housecoat and told the galley computer she wanted her tea. It was ready in an instant, and she held the acrylic mug in both hands, feeling the warmth promised by her favorite morning drink. Was it morning? she mused briefly. It certainly didn’t feel like it. Reading the incoming messages, Kara shook her head. They knew she was the only one inbound to them, knew that she had their precious spares aboard. Still, the bullshit. She tapped out a quick reply, and headed to get dressed, the shower on board being little more than a tight closet. Kara spent a lot of time to make sure she was as well groomed as possible, an ingrained idea that she followed on a daily basis. It was better than nothing, and she always arrived smelling much better than her male counterparts. ‘Mailers’ were a group that were different than most others. Tough. Able to weather any storm. She hadn’t even glanced out at the stars today, she suddenly thought. Something she normally loved about these long runs between humanity when Kara first took this job. As the shower door closed and sealed, the small ship sped forward, having dropped from lightspeed, gliding effortlessly through the vacuum of space…

The atoll ‘Constellation’ was a massive vessel, well over two miles in length at this point in time, and carrying almost three thousand people. Massive solar sails stood erect off the cruiser’s surface, feeding power to all of it’s internal needs. The atoll was one of several, spread throughout the galaxy, and it’s interior had become home to humankind. The hum of the ion drives could be felt even out in the coldness of space. Pinpricks of light pierced the hull, windows out on the only solace that humans had now. The bridge of the ship stood up on a spire above the main body of the hull, like an eye on it’s surroundings. The commander sat here. It had been a long day for everyone, and he sat in the command chair, reviewing the day’s logs. Food shortage. Problems with waste disposal. Electrical relays that had begun to fail. He needed those replacements, or it would soon be a dark atoll, regardless of the output of the sails. Danek put his face in his hands, tossing the tablet aside. Too much today… All of the critical systems strung together throughout the ship were showing their age, and he wondered if it wasn’t simply the sheer size of the vessel that still made it habitable at times. Today alone the power had failed on part of the concourse level, the atmosphere generators dropped their output levels, and the waste recycler had stopped for several hours. If one of the main ion drives suffered a failure, the atoll would be adrift, helplessly tumbling through space. He stood up from the command chair, walking forward to check on the sensor banks, flat screens laid out on a desk-like console. Nothing but the service drones, flying around the hull to perform inspections. He needed those spare parts. The other atolls were just as desperate, their mining and manufacturing just as taxed as the constellation. He looked up briefly, everyone was at their post. The dozen or so people still on the bridge looked at their panels, working diligently.

New Stuff!

The White Room

He had not slept again. Days and nights were the same here, after all. No changes in the amount of light, and everything was devoid of colour. For his own safety, and that of others. His room was very carefully designed, round with no edges, even the locked doorway was seamless, the lighting a harsh bright white glowing from behind translucent panels in the ceiling. Color was not a good thing for him. The table he sat at was of course entirely white. The same for his chair. A bed at the other side of the room was little more than a futon, but again, white. No color anywhere. His hair had been shaved, a precaution against him pulling any of it out and seeing it's brown strands, and he was clothed in white, a simple t-shirt and pajama pants, white pull-on sneakers and gloves. Without any mirror in this cell, he could not even look upon the color of his own eyes. He sat at the table quietly, waiting. A voice over some hidden loudspeaker had told him to do so a short while before.