Funny how I find myself - in love with you


A fresh millennium, a fresh obsession. She died the most gruesome of deaths. It was spectacular even by our standards. A firecracker in the collective consciousness. I knew I had to have her. A centrepiece upon which I could build a true collection. It's the stuff a real connoisseur of pain looks for across the ages.

If I could buy my reasoning - I'd pay to lose


I sit in this tiny hell, stroking the threads of fate. The halls of this parody world emulate a great and bestial palace of glass, fresh from the nightmares of men. All Dreamcatchers here, damned by avarice and cruel eyes to spend eternity entertaining the beasts of the netherworld. There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy. So many, ugly ugly things. The competition is fierce, as mankind has been cruel and capricious for untold eons. Cheating in expected. Playing fair didn't get me any closer to heaven then. Why start now?

One Half won't do


Madness has a spicy perfume. She was steeped in it like a fine marinade, a cedar tang to her peerless sweetness. I gambled on her, spending favours with wild abandon. Wispy fingers still play upon the Earth from this place. The souls don't fall cleanly. The breadcrumb trails of love and hate bring the rats up from their hole. A thousand years of slaving bought me the means to whisper in her ear.

I've asked myself how much do you


She must have been more deeply cracked than even I imagined. I watch, but I don't see. The hairlines ran from root to tip, waiting for the gentle hell-borne breeze to usher in the new era. Eggshells always break from the inside, you see. I wanted to keep you all for myself when the time finally came. An artist always coverts his masterpiece. Like you and your writing. Dancing for the coins! It's a small step from there to here, my friend.

Commit yourself


My ancient claws held the vessel gingerly. And slowly it filled. The twisting spirals of her insanity colored the thick waters of the Styx with the stuff of chaos. Her acts grew more random and detached. The walls seared with the majesty of an undone soul screaming from existence before its time. God's creation subverted, debased and consumed. Oh, how the Masters would clamour for it! It was all planned out, from pinpoint start to infinite ends. But perfection is for Angels. They took you away without so much as a word. Broken, I begin again. The Boatman asks only two coins, and the empty gel begs from the mouth of the blowfly-blue bottle. My eternal toil continues. Maybe we’ll feed it together? You seem a crafty fellow. Come; let’s see what we can do about that quill.

It's my life
Don't you forget
It's my life
It never ends.


For The Blood is the Life: A Frightful Halloween Quest, and a friendly competition with Sam and Kyle