Cleaning House (696 hits)
Category: Quotes & StoriesRating: 1.9 on 15 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by mockidol (View user info) at 2006-08-27 20:09:14 EDT
*
This post is very rough, but my muse is on a break, so writing is a bit tough right now. Still, I'm craving for some feedback. So here we go.
The picture on this post was painted by Oliver Sage. He worked on this with me as part of a contest elswhere. I like it, and wanted to include it with the story he painted it respect too."
Fingers in the night.
The words flutter at me in between whooshing screams of the ember blaze.
I pull in a deep breath; scarcely audible under the roaring cracks of the fire smoking up into the clouds.
The scratches in my throat that mean I'm screaming the words reverberate as I say-
"What the fuck are you talking about?!!"
-but I can barely hear my words over the growing flames.
She looks back over at me, taking a second to decipher what I've said and says, "The flames coming up from the van, they look like fingers reaching up into the night. It's like the souls of the bodies inside are being placed into the heavens by the hand of the devil himself."
I listen to the pops and cracks flying up from the bonfire and picture the bones of the two inside, turning black and splintering apart in fibrous strands.
"Seems a bit appropriate considering the circumstances, wouldn't you say?" I cough on the deep smoke billowing around us, "And since when did you care about God anyway?"
Silently, yet scored by the inferno before of us, she grabs my hand and turns us around.
Our backs burning from the intense heat, sweat dripping down our hands into our joined, sticky palms, we stare out over the cliff. The homes below us blink with the yellow windows of night as the towering fingers loom behind us, casting our monstrous shadow on the town below.
--- --- --- ---
Jenna is sitting Indian style on the floor playing with a long strand of green thread. Over and over, she ties it around her finger cutting of the blood turning her knuckles white.
"So babe... you just bored or is there some point to this game of yours?"
Staring down at the floor in between he intertwined legs, she wraps the tiny green noose around her finger again and watches her knuckle turn to bone.
Looking up at me through the top of her eyes she whispers, "Just thinking about all of this. What are we trying to do here?"
"Sinners." I say, "They're all sinners."
Twisting the string tighter she says, "Like Catcher in the Rye huh? Death to all the phonies?"
Missing the meaning deep behind her eyes, "What do you mean?"
"Never mind." she says, "Never mind." and lets go over the string.
Color rushes back into the bones.
Quietly and looking back at the floor, "I think we've lost the point ourselves. We used to fear what we've now become. What really is right? What about God?"
Laughing at her question's mundane and cliché guise, "Ha. Since when did I care about fear? This is what's right. Tell me, do I look like someone who cares what God thinks?"
"No." she replies wrapping the string back around her flesh, "No."
"Good. Now let's go kill some assholes. I've got a few guys meeting Tricha up at The Point tonight."
--- --- --- ---
We're driving up the windy road that leads to The Point, a make-out cliff long forgotten since the hoopskirt fifties, and silence fills the car like dense smog.
"The guys," I'm trying to loosen her up, "They're 35 and 29. They're supposed to be waiting for Trichia in a blue van."
She continues to sit in silence.
"They think she's only 15."
Finally her head turns towards mine, "So it's about time they died then? Right? Divine judgment? Time to punch with the fist of God?"
"Hey, don't turn into a pacifist on me now."
She holds back a snicker as she says, "Apathy is the hand glove right?"
"Fuck Jen! Stop asking so many fucking questions? Suddenly you're a philosopher?"
I shut up and drive.
--- --- --- ---
We park a few hundred feet down the road and walk the rest of the way. Soon we can see the van, a small light dimmed inside, it glows through the trees.
Silently we sneak up to the vehicle and I pause to stare out over the cliff. A deep breath fills my lungs; I lift my hand, and knock.
The door of the van slides open and the faces of the two men inside freeze.
Frozen with the surprise of finding our guns pointed at their faces like two dogs about to pounce.
"Hello you pedophile pricks! It's me, Trichia! It's been great talking online, and even better to finally meet you face to face."
Their yells just starts to leave their throats as our bullets slam their pink, child molesting brains across the inside of the van."
Jen lets out her heavy breath and says, "There Trav, you happy now? We done playing God for the night?"
An amber glow hovers over our faces as I light the driver's seat on fire, and step back to watch the flames take hold.
"Yeah," I say back, "It's hard work cleaning house, but somebody has to do it."
--- --- --- ---
"It's like the souls of the bodies inside are being placed into the heavens by the hand of the devil himself."
"Seems a bit too appropriate considering the circumstances, wouldn't you say?" I cough on the deep smoke billowing around us, "And since when did you give a shit about God anyway?"
Silently scored by the inferno before of us, she grabs my hand and turns us around.
We stand there for a second, looking our over the city, and then she lets go of my hand. I watch as she unties the green string from her finger and says, "I've always cared about God. Problem is, we've been playing the part of God, not letting him do his job on his own."
Jen takes her gun drops its barrel, and aims its metallic mouth at my foot. A can feel the look of confusion plastering itself across my face as she pulls the trigger and the bullet rips through my bones. She barrels herself towards my leaning body and yells, "We're no better than them! We're the phonies!"
Just as we fall over the line of earth into the chasm of darkness below the cliff, the van explodes.
We gently float down and the amber fingers of the explosion follow us down. They push us down where we belong as if the hand of God himself.
User Reviews
Submitted by Faith (user info) at 2006-08-29 14:41:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
I liked it to an extent. Some bits just didn't work for me, a few pieces seemed a bit unnecessary/drawn out? Not too sure what I'm trying to say here!
Submitted by ruthless (user info) at 2006-08-29 14:27:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
woot
Submitted by mockidol (user info) at 2006-08-29 14:16:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2006-08-28 12:45:21 (#)
Ranking: 2
There was something about "pink, child molesting brains" that didn't much work for me. The brains don't molest the children. It seemed a little unnecessary, given what we learn about the victims.
---
Yep, I hear you loud and clear.
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2006-08-28 12:51:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2006-08-28 12:45:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-08-27 22:02:32 (#)
Ranking: 2
I like your style, though.
---
I like your moves.
There was something about "pink, child molesting brains" that didn't much work for me. The brains don't molest the children. It seemed a little unnecessary, given what we learn about the victims.
Submitted by sicosemen (user info) at 2006-08-28 09:13:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Good story. I still don't feel like leaving feedback.
Submitted by Antioxident (user info) at 2006-08-28 08:13:42 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
My muse ran away and won't come back
it sucks
Submitted by JoeyG (user info) at 2006-08-28 01:24:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
that pic is teh awesome
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-08-28 00:41:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Di people dem a beg di super DJ fi more because dem love di way wi play di hardcore dem a jump an shout like a goal jus score watch how dem bubblin pon di dancefloor. Di vibes dem hot and di music wicked wi come fi nice up di life weh you life jump an shout an tell dem be positive, live di life you love love di life you live.
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2006-08-27 22:55:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I like the ideas here. It needs a good proofread, but you did say it was rough. I agree with Stag to a degree. I would like to see the characters and their relationship developed more, and this could be great. I love the painting, too.
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-08-27 22:02:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
"Over and over, she ties it around her finger cutting of the blood turning her knuckles white. "
Typo and lack of punctuation in that sentence, but you probably already knew that.
The characters in this didn't really make that much sense to me, and I didn't really care about them that much. I couldn't tell why she flipped out at the end, there didn't seem to be any real reason for that (or maybe I'm just dense and I missed something, that's been known to happen).
I like your style, though.
Submitted by sicosemen (user info) at 2006-08-27 21:13:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I'll come back and rate this tomorrow and give feedback. This 2 is for welcoming feedback. I hope this story is good though.
Submitted by mockidol (user info) at 2006-08-27 20:27:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
That's cool ghola baby.
When I actually review posts I tend to do like 50 in a day, so I get worn out and hardly ever leave usefull stuff.
BUT PEOPLE!!!
I will always greet criticism with open arms. I'd be an ass if I said I wanted to write better but didn't
Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2006-08-27 20:22:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm feeling far too blase to offer feedback. I'll be back by later to do that.
Submitted by mockidol (user info) at 2006-08-27 20:09:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
I F*ed that up a bit.
The post starts with: "Fingers in the night."