A dark story of history repeating

A male child, born with no given name, to a mother than cried heavily at the mere sight of him. He was forever a contanst reminder of his father that forcefully planted his seed within her virgin womb before disappearing into the depths of night, leaving her shivering and broken. What chance did this child have when even his mother found the sight of him abhorrent? She couldnt love and nourish him, and so he found himself abandoned to the mercy of whoever could.

He was named Samuel by the elderly woman that would call herself mother, though he refused to accept either. He fought her love, rebelled against the sanctuary of homeliness she’d created for him. The years of his growing were a constant struggle, and yet she refused to abandon him as his mother had. Even when his school refused to educate him she stayed at home in order to school him.

He resented and despised her, and yet with each passing year an infatuation grew within him. There was something within his DNA that compelled him to obsess over being around her at inappropriate times. He would spy through the keyhole as she undressed, and yet would refuse to join her at the table come tea time.

It was upon a random evening late in the year, rain lashing down upon the panes of glass and the occasional flash of lightening illuminating the otherwise dimly candle lit room that he appeared before her as she was in a state of undress.

Instinctively she cowered away, covering any exposed flesh from his unblinking eyes, and yet he reached out and pulled at her night blouse. As she fought his advances, sharp nails scratched her breasts drawing crimson lines across them. Crying in shock and pain she could do nothing as he exposed them, his hands gripping tightly the area directly around the nipple.

As the tears rolled heavily from her heartbroken eyes, and her requests for him to stop went ignored, he forcefully pushed her backwards onto the bed. She knew what was coming next, and yet was unable to stop it. Pain soared through her body as he entered her. Emotionless he satisfied himself within her as she sobbed uncontrollably, her clothes torn and blood flowing from the wounds received as reward for her attempting to resist.

He said nothing as he left. A dark figure disappearing into the depths of night, leaving behind a broken elderly woman whose womb began preparing for the unwanted gift she’d been given.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown

Saying Goodbye – contains Spoiler

It’s been a while, but back at it:

Jax tethered his horse outside the rather plain, yet exceptionally clean, Temple of Lyra. Where as all the other buildings within Blucester portrayed their age, with crumbling stonework, or patched up woodwork, the temple looked better now than the day it was built. Whilst it would never win any awards for its aesthetic design, it was certainly loved and cared for devotedly by those that found salvation there.

A muted yellow glow eminated from behind the two solid oak doors that were set open. A hint of juniper hung in the air, most likely from the incense burning within. Jax slowly walked to the back of his horse so as to lift the rolled up blanket into his arms. His heart was heavy, and though he’d been fearing this moment, he knew he owed it to his fleeting love, Yulien, a disciples burial.

“What burdens you traveller?” enquired a middle age man, seemingly standing sentry between the two doors.

As Jax approached the man’s gaze became fixed upon the rolled blanket, his furrowed brow deepening with curiosity the longer his question went unanswered.

“I ask you again traveller, what carry you to the doors of our temple?” Shifting his left leg, his stance became more defensive whist his hand hovered over the hilt of previously unseen mace. Still Jax advanced, until he met with the outstretched hand holding the cold steel of the guards weapon but inches from his face. “Stop and declare your purpose!”

Lifting his head, sorrow and heartache portrayed unashamedly within his eyes, Jax stared intently at the guard. “She warrants a disciples burial.”

“That is a matter for the clerics to decide,” stated the guard lowering his mace. “I will see if any are available to offer you audience. Please, wait here.”

When

When your fears turns to tears, and dreams crumble into decaying debris.

When salvation becomes the barrel of a loaded gun and you drink your poison to numb the pain.

When every fibre of you soul is manipulated like a marionette’s strings, pushed and pulled beyond you will.

When a heart doesn’t break, but it cracks and shatters into millions of pieces lifting into the night sky to join the stars.

When the words have been spoken and all feelings gone.

That is when it’s the end.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown

Finding Reason

‘Understanding’

To my left stands an Angel tending to my tears. “What did you do?” she asks soothingly.

On my right a Devil. “It’s not your fault!” he says rubbing my shoulder with his talloned hand.

Like an island isolated by a maddening sea, I stand resolute understanding their words, yet let them fall upon my ear, waves upon a rocky shore.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown

Punishment NSFW +18

Laid over my knee

Naked once soft white skin

Now red with handprint scars

Punishment for brattish behaviour

Tears cascading from pain felt eyes

Playing my emotions?

Large hands easing the pain

Firm powerful strokes across each cheek

A gentle writhing to guide my hand

Urging to be felt in places pleasuring

My hand falls heavy again

The imprint left in white

Upon her once again reddening skin.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown

Remembered

Upon your leaving,

A distinctive shape of you,

Remained gaping as you left my heart.

Time heals

Makes you forget

Then a passing figure

A glimmer of remembrance

Eyes that pulled me in

Distance parts you

Out of sight out of mind

But I remembered you

A twinge in my rebuilt heart

You walk away

Leaving me a ghost to my emotions

Copyright: authorchrisbrown

Trapped

I feel the hurt portrayed in your eyes
The spiralling descent into nothingness
An abyss of depression
The fight lost
Over as exhaustion consumes you

The rut you were once in widens
Looking up from a chasm of constant similarity
Everything’s the same
The wheel of time turning
Fragments of yourself trodden underfoot

There is no anger to consume you
The fires of emotion extinguished long ago
An empty shell
Meandering along
Trapped like a slave to a life confined

Copyright: authorchrisbrown

Web Master

He led her to a picture perfect representation of your stereotypical haunted house. Run down and derelict. Even the weather was causing a kind of ground fog that added to the spooky vibe. So why then did she follow him side?

The air was musty, and everything was covered in a blanket of dust, giving the impression that no one had lived here for years. The ceiling was covered in what at first looked like cob webs, but they were damp and in clumps like seaweed. The place sent a shiver down her spine.

“Are we supposed to be here?” she asked with nervous suspicion.

“Of course,” he replied whilst gesturing with his hands and bending his fingers.

At first she was unsure as to what he was doing, but it wasn’t long before she noticed the ceiling webs moving to his commands. They were dropping in long strands, then making their way back up again.

“Okay you’re freaking me out now,” she said turning for the door. “I’m going to leave.”

With a swift downward swipe a large clump of the wet unknown mass fell upon her knocking her to the floor. He stood over her smiling, moving his hands so as to control in some way the heavy weight that was pinning her down.

“What are you doing? Please! Let me go!”

“I can’t do that,” he replied with a sinister tone. “The family are yet to dine.”

No sooner had the words left his lips, he gestured to the ceiling once more. A large beetle type insect began to lower itself upon a strand of the web moving to the commands being given until it was lingering an inch above her right inner thigh. The short skirt she was wearing offering ample amounts of exposed flesh.

“Why?” she cried out. “Why are you doing this to me?”

With a snap of his fingers, the beetle lowered the final distance, sinking its twitching mandibles into her skin causing her to scream out in searing pain. No sooner had it bitten, he gestured for it to return to the ceiling once more.

Within minutes the wound began swell, blisting with a milky white fluid clearly visible beneath. The same milky white as the wet clumps on the ceiling. Moments later the wound exploded sending a stream of the web like strands up onto the ceiling, also causing her to scream in pain once more.

“Embrace it,” he smiled. “Your sacrifice is giving birth to new life.”

Her screams became much louder, much more full of fear as she could do nothing but watch as another beetle began to descend towards her face.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown

Imaginary Friend

Herbert looked at himself in the mirror. He was changing. Unlike his best friend Amelia, who grew taller and older with the passing seasons, he was still the little boy he had always been, just a little more transparent. Amelia was the only one that could see him when he first arrived, but it seemed now more and more he was becoming invisible to even her.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown

Competition Entry #3

Darkest Fear

“There are some relationships that are worth lying for.”

That’s exactly what Grace had been doing for the past two years, lying to the man of her dreams, her soul mate.

It was only six months until the wedding and she’d still not had the courage to sit down and tell him the truth about why she hadn’t yet fallen pregnant, despite actively trying almost every night.

The very thought of being the size of a beached whale, stretch marks and swollen ankles frightened her. More so than any horror movie. Then there’s children themselves. Little dependent wrinkly crying breast sucking Satans. They were not much better getting older.

Could, or would, Grace face her fears for the sake of her relationship? Or would she let the man of her dreams walk away for fear of ruining her vagina?

Copyright: authorchrisbrown