This is a prolouge to a novel I was going to write. What do you think? should I take it further?

Your Time To Die!

The night was being pushed away by the first streams of the sun’s rays as it peeked over the horizon to herald in a new day. Paul Harris sat on the rock at the edge of the car park nestled high in the mountains, the trees starting to rustle softly with a new morning breeze that cooled his hot and aching skin. The cuts and abrasions nothing compared to the gaping wound in his left thigh and his lower right abdomen.  The makeshift tourniquet made from the shirt he was wearing the previous night soaked in his precious life’s blood. As he coughed he wiped away a smear of blood bubbling up in his throat, giving him a metallic coppery taste that had basically been the main stay of the last 6 hours.

“What the fuck happened to my life” he whispered softly to himself and he closed his eyes dragged in a deep breath as his left hand searched his pockets for a cigarette. He found the cancerous stick and lit it with his trusty Zippo dropped the lighter back in his pocket, inhaled deeply and coughed out smoke and more blood.

“Linda what did we do, what happened” he said to himself again as he thought of his beautiful wife, thirty six never had children and her body was still like that of a twenty year old. He thought back to the previous evening the fun the drive to the bar the plans they had a quiet night away in a ritzy hotel, room service, hot showers, steamy lingering love making. That was the plan they had been looking forward to for the last three months, it started ok and the sex was fantastic but the aftermath was not in the plan. A solitary tear run down his face as his mind drifted back to the image of his wife, as he exhaled and coughed again spitting a congealed blob of blood to the ground as he wiped the vitreous fluid away yet again. Her body ruined destroyed and why, what benefit did it serve anyone, she was a beautiful woman who never hurt anyone, he sobbed loudly now and the sun’s rays were comforting him as he head lolled down between his open knees. The fight he put up just too still be alive at 6.16am was all too much for him.

“Lisa , I’m sorry I wish it was me and not you” he said as a shadow engulfed him and blocked out the suns invigorating rays that almost made him feel normal just for a second.

“I can accommodate that for you” the voice said, and as he looked up his neck opened and spilled his tongue flapping out like a grotesque tie on a blood red shirt. His last image was that of a shadow outlined by the sun’s rays and a voice that made his skin crawl.

“Die”

Copywrite Graeme Hawke 2011

New Sci-fi Short Story - "DARK ALLIANCE"

This is a short Story I wrote based on another sculpt from an amazing Sculptors piece from Erick Sosa.
Sculpt images of the finished product - "Space Host"

Dark Alliance



I slit his throat with the ease of a tuned professional as he leaned in for a kiss. With practiced movements, I moved sideways to miss the blood spatter, as his life blood flowed in heart beat spurts from the wound in his neck. I was sure I heard a slightly gurgled “bitch” just before he expired on the ground next to me.

The hotel room dark as you would expect a pay by the hour room to be. There was no way I would want to see a UV light near these sheets, let alone sleep on them. I quickly searched his pockets and found the wallet and envelope I was sent to get. Sometimes I wonder what these poor unfortunates have done to end up dead on a sleazy hotel room floor on a god forsaken planet in the Delta system, but I don’t really care!

It’s not my job to ask questions and I suppose I should feel lucky that I have a job at all in this dilapidated backwater of a planet. But then anything’s better than Shade City! That’s were I was born, mum a prostitute and dad a petty thug, my childhood was spent running from drunk family, and spaced out dregs of society. At ten years old I learnt to break and enter with my father, and he taught me how to use a short blade, just in case we were interrupted during a job. Most kids would be at the zoo, but not me I was robbing and bashing people for money and food. I found out I had a natural talent for martial arts and my father sent me for lessons, and by sixteen I was a black belt and filled out my clothes like a woman. It was lucky I could defend myself because when the johns came around, and mum was passed out, they often thought they could use me as a substitute. I remember the reason I became a mercenary and although I can not remember his name, I still remember the blood.

At sixteen on the streets I had to use whatever cunning I had learned to survive, and it was in the dark streets of Shade City that I was found by Enrique Montoya! He saw a raw talent in me that I didn’t know existed. He gave me a place to live and food as long as I did as I was told. I knew a conscience was something others had and morals were something the now almost phased out god believers preached about, but in the dark Latin Quarter of the city it mattered not. The Yellows and Blacks had there own space in the city but as always there was room for more trade of all kinds, drugs, synthohol, music and clothing. Nothing like a new pair of jeans to make a girl feel good in this shit hole.

So for five years I worked robbed and did as I was told I don’t know how many times I was raped, bashed and traded for goods in this time but It was the only life I knew and I could aspire to. I was promoted and was given my first big chance for being a good girl for so many years, command of a light cargo ship the “Trepid”. The drop mission to take a wooden crate to the neighbouring planet “Alpha Terra” was a piece of cake, a two week mission and I was to be part of the deal as I was told and my services as a woman were required to seal the deal and ensure payment.

All was good five days out with me only having to have one crew member detained in the ships lock up for drinking part of the synth shipment which gave him some Dutch courage and he thought I was an easy mark. His balls will be blue for at least a week so he will be a good boy for the return home. My number 2 Stens Burgen a huge man six feet six inches tall and about four feet wide, with a voice like silk and a head of beautiful burnished blond hair a trait of his ancestry from earth. He was always nice to me and was on board to look after not only the shipment but the crew as well. Considering a large wooden crate was the most expensive product we had on board no-one knew shit all about it.

It was heavy and smelt like ammonia, Stens said it reminded him of the time he had to transport the dead son of Tony (the head) Deblasio, front man of the Cartel back home. The reason he’s called “the head” is that’s what they find  missing from your corpse if you cross him. The box four feet long by ywo feet wide and as much deep, is worth more than all the other crap we have on board. Apparently it’s going to an astute buyer of artefacts to be part of his exotic and expensive private collection. The Pilot sent a ship wide broadcast warning we were close to the Target planet and would be entering the gravitational field in approximately two hours time.

I decided I would use this time for the crew to relax and replenish before we were due to touch down and off the payload under darkness in about four hours. Getting into the atmosphere was easy, navigating through the many space ports and militia control craft was always difficult but we had co-ordinates sent to us from the sergeant in charge of interplanetary defence so we could navigate without being seen by anyone or anything, obviously he was a well paid part of the cartels extended employ.

I took one last walk around the hold and looked into the enclosed area where the expensive crate sat and detected a faint humming noise but dismissed it as part of the ships over riding nuances. I turned slowly to exit the stale cargo bay but the humming seemed to get louder the further I moved away from the crate, the noise sounded like a chorus of deep water lunes singing to each other on Alterius 3. I don’t recall walking back to or opening the cage door but I felt the crate cold under my hand my mind felt like it was in a fog. I recall grabbing a pry bar from the shadow board on a bench backboard painted black with a white area the shape of each item stored on its metal tendrils. The job of removing the crates lid seemed almost too easy considering it had a huge “Do Not Touch” sticker on it and a rather large bolt lock. As I slowly prised open the lid there was a sharp shift in both pitch and frequency of sound being emitted!

With a rush that seemed to go on for seconds, not a simple blink of an eye, I was staring into an intense blinding light that inflicted not just blindness but searing pain behind each eye that I thought could only feel if someone was slowly forcing six inch needles into my eye sockets through the pulpy flesh of the eyes themselves. On instinct I raised my right hand to feel for any gelatinous fluid that would have seeped from my now ruined eyes only to realise there was nothing. I knew I had to get away from this thing whatever it was but there was no moving, each and every muscle, tendon and ligament in my body was ridged and would not obey my own minds commands and basic instinct which was to flee. With all of my motor skills removed from me I tried to do the next best thing and scream for help – nothing not even a whimper, just the faintest quiver of my bottom lip showed any sign of my current predicament.

My left arm felt warm and wet with my next breath as if it was dipped in a vat of lovely warm Honduran oat porridge. I could also feel something moving about the base of my skull under my hair like fingers but thinner and colder as if they were looking for the “X” marks the spot on an old treasure map but these were looking for a way into my brain stem. Not pain but a cold writhing sensation and a feeling of absolute heaviness about my left arm that actually seemed to start from my left breast and lower rib cage all the way to my finger tips encasing my entire shoulder along the way. If the setting had been different I would swear it was like something making love to my entire left side torso, but as well as euphoria I also had a sense of immense strength surge through my body and then a burning thrum of pain, desire, love, hate and relief surged through my mind as if something was being born within my psyche.

“I fainted”

I have no way of knowing how long I was out for but the cold of the plascrete floor was making its way through my clothes but some of my skin had a tingly warm feeling, damn it felt like a number 4 Grav-train hit me. I tried to stand but the fog in my head was still lifting, I managed to glance down at the left side of my body, I couldn’t breathe, I panicked an audible gasp was the only sound that exited my mouth as looked down at a mass of chitin, sinew, and what can only be described as muscle that was undulating but seemed to be attached to my entire left arm, shoulder and upper torso. A soft almost angelic voice told me not to panic and that all was well, it was not in a tongue I understood but I knew what it was saying in my mind, somehow the clicks and grunts made sense and I tried to stand. I looked at the revolting mass of cartilage and muscle to inspect any damage to what was my arm, but realised to my surprise I could still feel me underneath and strength was coursing through me I had never felt before. I had a flash of understanding and looked into the minds eye of this thing that moved with absolute ease and felt lighter than my original appendage, it’s not a growth or a devouring alien this is a bio parasite a strong one and it chose me as its host!

Stens Burst through the cargo bay doors because he heard a muffled gasp and was sure I was in some danger. His life thus far had consisted of fights, mainly for food at a young age and he progressed to the leader in his sector because of his strength and cunning. This was a talent the off world cartel had noticed, and wanted to foster within their ranks of paid enforcers. Although Stens was strong and smart he was also good to have around when you’re a women in a man’s profession, but on this occasion he was out matched.

I saw the doors burst open and then nothing but a blur as I moved with unnatural speed as if I was moving through space not within it. When I finally understood what was happening it was too late I looked down at my new accessory only to see Stens head held tightly within the three finger like protrusions at the base which made what could be understood as a rudimentary claw. It was “I was” crushing his skull and I could feel strength being drawn from him as if I was draining his life essence. I looked on entranced and disgusted then forced a “STOP” from my frozen vocal chords. It stopped and Stens slumped to the cold floor covered in damaged tissue and bone fragments, as if he had a frag grenade in his mouth and it went off.

My new friend seemed stronger and I detected a slight Ozone smell as if it had processed this hulking man as fuel for its as yet unknown powers and bio parts.

“Ah we live” it said in a low guttural sounding growl. “Where to Next”

Copywrite - Graeme Hawke 2011

My Other Blog spot for Poetry and dark thoughts

http://ponderings-of-a-twisted-mind.blogspot.com.au/

This is my place of thought and profoundness I write normally dark themes in my Poetry but I have been known to be funny and even sarchastic. let me know what you think!!!!!!!

This is another in the works novel Plologue chapter 1 I was working on to see if I liked where the story would go I like it but Hey let me know if you like it so I can keep moving on this one!

Book synopsis:

Australia is in the grip of a serial killer no city is safe from what the papers are dubbing the killer "Poetic Justice" or "The Cleaner". Its been 2 years and no-one is any closer to finding the killer. No evidence No leads just a trail of clean dead bodies. all in their mid twenties no apparent connection no apparent similarity, male, female, black, white. just the same MO each time a Poem, a rose, a tag. Can Detective Rupert Jones and his partner Judith Avery catch a break or is there something more sinister at work here. Only time can tell but time is running out as one of them is going to fall victim to the viscious murderer

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“Poetry should be great and unobtrusive, a thing which enters into one's soul,
and does not startle it or amaze it with itself, but with its subject.”

John Keats

“All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling”

Oscar Wilde

Chapter 1 – Understanding

The day so far had been as expected, clear warm and full of beautiful fluffy white Cumulous clouds that hung as if from a huge coat hanger in the sky. A slight breeze brushed past and made the hairs on Amy’s arm stand to attention as if an unknown person was blowing on the appendage and up the nape of her neck. Amy Lewis was any normal young woman in her early twenties, she was fit a size twelve and sitting at five feet eight inches tall and weighing in at a pretty standard sixty kilograms she was neither thin or flabby. Her well toned body a credit to the hours she spent at the gym with weights and spin classes as well as new boxing and commando classes for core strength.

Although pretty she was no stunner but neither was she dowdy when dressed in her work clothes her curves were always evident and her current boyfriend was as always appreciative when he had chance to get her naked. She was normal for all intensive purposes and now she was on her way to her local shopping precinct to buy the salad she would never eat and the chocolate bar which was her favourite treat after a heavy work out. It would be half eaten and then placed neatly on the counter top of her kitchen, but I do get ahead of myself.
On the journey home she turned on her iPod connection in the car turned up the volume and sang along to Adams Song her favourite song, from her favourite band Blink 182, although a quite girl, she loved the fun in their punk style music and had done for many years.

She was starting to feel yucky from the workout and needed a shower quickly, and as she repositioned her left breast in her tight fitting and wet gym top she liked the weight of her breast in her hand and thought of her boyfriend maybe she would make love to him tonight, at that thought a tingle ran to her clitoris and she squeezed her legs together and smiled to herself in the rear vision mirror. The groceries were not heavy and only needed one hand to carry them and with the free hand she dove into her purse, retrieved the front door keys and opened the large oak door inward with a rush of sweet smelling air that met her from her many rood deodorisers strategically placed around the house she moved inside closed the door behind her, locked it and glided humming all the way to the kitchen. After placing the groceries in the well stocked cupboards Amy made her way upstairs to her bedroom and her well deserved shower.

A long thin box laid on the bed a white box with red stripes and a huge red ribbon on top with a rosette stuck to it. A large envelope sat under the box with her name typed neatly on it. She was full of fear and anticipation did he come in and leave this for her he has only had the key for a week and already he was being romantic towards her.

She lifted the top of the box and shrieked as she held her hand to her mouth with disbelief. In it was a single white Rose covered with what looked like blood, her first thought was to not touch the rose but the red sticky fluid on that most beautiful flower drew her in and her mind swam with desperation as she opened the envelope and pulled out the card on the front was a cute little bunny with a love heart in front of him looking all sweet and loving. The inside was awash with pasted words of “LOVE” from magazines and papers and inside a frame of pasted words was the following hand written Poem.

Roses are red,

Violets are blue

Your time is up

Look behind you!

The blood froze in Amy’s body and a chill made the hair on the back of her neck stand to attention yet again but this time she heard nothing but the beating of her own heart as she placed the card down on the bed again. She felt the breath on her neck and thought it was all just a dream a joke that he was playing on her after all who would want to hurt her, Amy was a model citizen a loving individual who had paid her dues to society and her selfish family.

She felt the cold steel against her back and she froze unable to move the card dropped from her hand and she felt the knife cutting at her gym top and as it sliced all the way thru, the wet sweaty material fell from her body easily letting her breasts feel the air as her nipples tighten with fright and scared anticipation. The buds tightened and shrunk as a warm hand reached in front and cupped her left breast teasing the nipple between thumb and forefinger. She let out a groan and thought it must be him and this was a setup to scare her and it was working. As she let out her held breath as a sigh of some relief the hand tightened on her breast and held her as she felt the blade enter her back below the shoulder blade and puncture her left lung. A scream started to emanate from her vocal cords but the knife was removed and brought to bear on her throat in mere seconds and the words just never made it out. Her mind swam in that split second just before death from blood loss hit her and she remembered thinking I didn’t eat my treat, as she left this earth.

Her assailant carried her now slick with blood body into the bathroom and placed her in a warm bath that was already prepared and both washed the blood from themselves many times and it was the third bath full of water that saw the blood stop flowing from her dead puppet like corpse.

Amy Lewis was laid out on her bed with her rose placed on her chest and the card neatly positioned in her left hand. Her eyes were left open staring at the glass covered sliding doors of her robe, her head turned to the left to accommodate, as if watching herself in her naked glory. A flash went off in the room as a memento was taken for later use and a keepsake memory. She looked so beautiful and pale laying there waiting for a lover who would never come to arrive. All the clothes and shoes were bundled into a double lined bin bag and tied off, the new clothes were now on and the killer slipped downstairs and on the way out took two big bites from the chocolate bar and left it on the table. The sweet sensation was greedily accepted after such a long mornings work.

The killer slipped out the front door and into Amy’s car and drove to a secluded spot in a car park at the harbour terminal at the now rarely used Outer harbour. A timer was placed in the boot with the clothes and twenty litre petrol container and a digital alarm that would send a spark into the closed boot full of petrol at exactly three pm that same day. A satisfied murderer and sometime poet left the car park in an easy manner in a late model Ford Falcon with a smile that belied the evil that had been perpetrated and a sense of achievement that was always had after such an exciting days work.

Larry Davis sat in the North Haven bar sipping his double Jack and cola after another great day at Morphettville race course. His contacts had been right and he was celebrating by himself because that’s how he like d it. You don’t become rich as a gambler but you don’t get rich with a woman either.

“You alone handsome” a voice said from behind Larry.

As he turned around a tall slim beautiful blond woman with a full glass of champagne sat next to him and said do you like poetry?

Copywrite - Graeme Hawke 2012

Just a reminder of all my Writing links!



http://www.lulu.com/shop/graeme-hawke/malevolent/ebook/product-20177888.html?showPreview=true
http://www.lulu.com/shop/graeme-hawke/undead-me/ebook/product-20177879.html?showPreview=true
http://www.lulu.com/shop/graeme-hawke/eternal-complicity/ebook/product-20087770.html

I am Now also  member of the Association of  Independent Authors.

http://independent-authors.site-ym.com/members/

A short Dark poem for today - "JOIN ME"

Join Me

My life is full of ups and downs

And it’s lonely here when you’re not around

Why won’t you come and stay with me?

If you do you will most certainly see

That in my darkness there is room for two

And I simply must insist it be you.

There is nowhere to run and nowhere to hide

I will find you and have you by my side

For millennia now I have waited upon my throne

Sitting in the darkness of my soul all alone

Together we can do so much more than exist

We can ensure the suffering of others will persist

The queen of cold and vile sitting at my side

Will ensure the veil of death and despair will reside

Come and share your putrid flesh with the world

And let mortals see the beauty I have so long beheld

Copy Write Graeme Hawke 2012

'Tard - a 499 word short for a competition I am entering

This was a unique experience to do a full story line in 499 words and make it horror and creepy well I hope I did it and you like it!

'Tard

Wayne Stephens sat at the metal table with a hook ended blade in his gloved right hand, the weight and feel of the stainless steel and bone handle almost perfectly balanced in his grip. As he turned the blade and caught the dull light overhead he could hear moaning from the adjacent room. Years of pent up frustration and planning have culminated into this final act, a deep breath and a sip of his tepid coffee from his dirty ceramic “I love Fishing Mug” and as he places it back on the table he hears a satisfying “ping” of ceramic on metal and his chair slides backwards dragging the feet across the old gray blue mottled linoleum floor. He is a huge man and walks with a slight stoop, favouring his left side because of a spinal birth defect that causes more embarrassment than pain. His hair long and straggled was gathered with a rubber band, mimicking a shaggy pony tail, that looked more at home on the back of a work horse that a man! His eyes were alert, but behind them the years of suffering and torment gave them an almost otherworldly glint and malevolent stare as he made his way towards his life’s work.

The metal door slid with ease as he grabbed the chrome handle and pulled it to his left, exposing him to the smell of sweat, fear and excrement from the expertly made slaughter room.
“Are we all comfortable” he said softly with an ever so slight lisp to his captive audience.
He was met with grunts and spitting of curses and abuse from the four hanging and chained naked bodies’ one in each corner hanging over a drain. He removed the bags and gags from them and surveyed his work.
“Who in the fuck are you? And what are you doing to us” a male voice spat at him.
The blade in his hand swept at speed past the mans face and slice his right nipple to the floor. Wayne held a finger to his lips and made a shhhh sound.
“No-one can hear you scream or yell so don’t bother, this room is sealed twice and twenty feet underground” Wayne told them. Three men and one woman hanging naked and shaking from cold, fear and shock, looked at their captor. The woman Rose Taylor looked at him studying his features and said “Wayne! Is that you?” a man on the opposite corner squinted. “Oh my god it is you, what in the hell do you think you’re doing?” The man, Jake Ferguson now had a bitter tone to his voice and looked at the assembled in the room and then he instantly said those magic words as a smile spread across his face.
“Guys I think this is some sort of sick revenge thing the ‘tard has dreamed up”
Wayne moved closer placed the drill at Jakes temple and said let’s see who the retard is after I am finished.