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"What are you doing?" "What does it look like I'm doing?" "Would I be asking if I knew the answer?" "If you're strange, maybe." Rasui grinned. "I'm setting it up so any one walking through here ain't coming out again." Kurt's eyes widened. "Is that really necessary?" "No. But it is fun." "Rasui, it'll take their foot off!" "I know from personal experience that that won't happen. The worst that can happen is a severed Achilles tendon and a few broken bones. Any one caught in one of these can beg for help or let it get infected. But we'll get them out before that happens." Kurt rolled his eyes. "Only if Zita forces you to." Rasui grinn

"Promise me you won't give up." The man addressed only put his head in his hands, shaking it. "I don't make promises I can't keep, Emily." "But you can't give up!" "And why not?" "You just can't! Mom needs you—" "Emily, what your mother needs is to die." Emily gasped, "Daddy!" "She does, Emms. She's only in pain. She's not getting any better—" "But she can, Daddy! She can get better! We just need to pray more. God can fix it, Daddy!" Emily was nearing tearful hysterics. "You're assuming there even is a god, Emms." The young girl's mouth hung open in shock. Tears welled in her eyes, flowing freely as she spoke in a frightened, incre

When You Die, Say goodbye, Your Time Is Up say goodbye with a dieing grace, breath the words with flagging strength mutter your last fond farewell scream the precursor agonies of hell rattle your chains and rasp your chants traipse the halls in folds of glow mist about were mortals dwell chime the single lonely bell dance the dust beneath dead feet leave the tracks living shall greet with a shock of horrified curiosity to blanch their faces breathless, send a shiver through their knees haunt the ones you knew and loved mirror the cries of the woeful mourning dove frequent the doors of your lovers' homes chilling their flesh a

Turning the suffering is musical, the pain scintillating a cry of agony raises the cacophony to an alluringly unbearable pitch but the sweetness of death, the relief from life is so precious it in itself is something to behold the cold is inviting, welcoming in its frigid embrace it cools the fever, soothes the diseased flesh with the finish is relief, the one horror done with, in the past; a future awaits that is beyond pleasure, a gruesome paradise of blood and lust

It's like something was lifted a damp curtain of velvet misery an oppressive garment laid waste by a spiteful being put to rest in a fiery earth the sodden feeling leaves, comfort and content cleansing in its place happiness, it's called. joy, every antonym of sorrow depression has gone home, spiked tail between quivering legs euphoria! nothing can go wrong, all is right nothing is missing all is well and just existing is refreshed the heart soars with love, once again beating in sync with the simple purity of joy

The Lesson She trudged out into the wind, white plastic garbage bag held away from her cold body. Her head bent against the gusts and one hand held her jacket closed. Carolyn Meyers shuffled to the dumpster in the half light of dusk. Why does it have to be so damn cold? Heat is so much better...I should just go live in the tropics, its there all the time. She shivered when a particularly violent sweep of wind ruffled her jacket, easily penetrating the thin material. The dumpster lid lay open against the concrete wall surrounding the metal thing. Carolyn threw the bag into its black mouth and turned to leave when a voice startled her.

"Would you quit—hey! It's dangerous!" "Really? How so?" "You're making the damned floor all slippery. Do you want me to crack my skull open?" "Maybe?" The second boy rolled his eyes. "I like my brains where they are." "You have brains?" "Would you cut that out!?"   "Why?" the first boy began throwing the pink, drippy soap at his wet companion. "Brian, come on!" Brian continued to bombard his friend with the slippery liquid. "What, Zach, can't you walk on anything?" "Not damned soap-coated locker room shower tiles I can't!" Zach reached back to a near by soap dispenser and squirted a handful worth of the stuff. He tossed it back

Evangaline squirmed under Saul's fingers. "God that tickles!" she squealed. Saul only laughed, the torment becoming more vigorous. "Why else do you think I'm doing it?" he kissed her on the neck, hand slipping under her shirt. He paused for an instant, which Evangaline took full advantage of. She flipped him onto his back, knees digging into his chest, tugging her rumpled shirt back down. "That, was not nice." "But it was fun." "Well, so is this." she bent forward, nipping at his ear and working her way forward with small, brief kisses. Saul's hand trailed up her leg, coming to rest on the back pocket of her jeans. His eyes narrowed in

The only thing there was to do was stare. No words, no motion. Just the horror-struck stares of these now homeless people. Some people where weeping, others just stared with wide eyes. "What about Baxter, mommy?" a small blonde child tugged at her mother's dirty skirt. "I don't know, sweetie." "I want my dolls!" "Alexandra, you're dolls are gone." "But why?" the little girl wailed. Her mother swept her up in her arms, kissing the childs head. "Sush now, baby." Everything was under water, an impenetrable brown. Debris and bodies were visible among the rampaging waters. The flood was catastrophic, ruining everything in its path. Nothing

Saul came in on his crutches, sitting right beside me. "Saul, we really should—" I couldn't speak any further because he was kissing me. His tongue darted momentarily over mine. I leaned further into his arms, throwing my own around his neck. I heard Natasha laugh. I pulled away, heart bursting with affection. Warmth seeped from my chest across my arms. "It's a start." I said, grinning. Two months without contact from him.... Saul brought me close to him so I was forced to get out of my chair and sit in his lap. His arms encircled me and I rested my head on his shoulder. He began to stroke my hair, titling his head down and occasionally k