sgtnutmeg-blog

[sgtnutmeg-blog]

-PART 1- -While waiting for his coffee to brew, Kurtis looked at his kitchen and figured he should probably clean it.

“Should probably do the rest of the apartment as well,” he muttered. The time was 10:26.

-He stripped his pajamas and pulled up his freshest boxers, then poured small brown cat food nuggets into Crystals bowl. He flicked through his phones music folder: he remained indecisive and clicked random. Kurtis knew there were no new messages but checked anyway to reread the ones from last night. Received: 23:34 Toni- I’ll be free around noon so see you then. Sent-23:51 Kurtis- Yep, see you then. -He ignored the smell coming from the litter box and got started by unloading the sink from dirty pans, pots, bowls, plates, cutlery, a cracked 7/11 plastic Slurpee cup, candy wrappers and mug with a broken handle, then turned the tap to hot. He squirted purple dollar store washing liquid into the steaming water. Tiny bubbles formed rapidly and he loaded the sink back up to let the dishes soak: he turned off the tap, soaked a sponge and turned to the oven. -Kurtis wiped the orange and yellow grease droplets on the stove top, and picked up dry, burnt pasta noodles. There were some blotches of dried up pasta sauce that came off with a few scrapes from a blunt butter knife. He threw out the black and red strips. -Kurtis poured a dollop of cream into his coffee and took an unpleasant mouthful and re-soaked the sponge, turning attention to the counter-top. He cleaned the coffee spills which was engraved with bread crumbs and cleared the layers under the toaster too, The sinks water was hotter than he liked so he gave the kitchens laminate floor a quick sweep and took the garbage can from under the sink, to the living room. -Shawn's clothes were scattered on the floor, as well as his old torn up work boots with the landmines of beer bottles and cans, empty yogurt cups and bits of paper. Kurtis had let Shawn move in the week before. Shawn had moved to Edmonton Alberta to work on a high profile construction site for a year and had wanted to move back to the lower mainland British Columbia. Being old high school friends, Kurtis let him sleep on the futon and Shawn ate all his instant noodles in the short period he moved in. Shawn didn’t mind how small the apartment was either. -Kurtis felt himself starting to sneeze so he opened the balcony door. Cool, Summer air flowed into the living room and Crystal ran from under the futon towards Kurtis’s room. Kurtis had picked all the garbage and threw Shawn's’ clothes into the hollow foot rest. It was red and made of pleather. Like the cat, Kurtis’s Dad let him have it. -While placing the Virtual Reality Headsets on the charger, he found one of Toni’s ankle socks. He looked around for a second sock and when he couldn’t find it, got up and walked to his bedroom. He stepped over his own clothes and placed the shopping bag filled with Toni’s things onto his bed. When he dropped the sock inside it he caught a glimpse of what was inside. Specifically the sexy nurse costume Toni had bought around Halloween for him. The-day-before-Kurtis had convinced himself he was fine and folded it and place it nicely into the bag. Right-now-Kurtis yanked the dress out with a primordial fury and tore up the cheap fabric and threw it to the corner of the room. -Kurtis took off his glasses and locked himself in the washroom. He turned the shower to a steaming hot and let the condensation mist up. He took a spray bottle and sprayed and cleaned the toilet of the thin layer dust, puddles of urine and hair. His large body became pink and sweaty as he wiped the condensation from the mirror and the tiles in the shower and clean the sink of minty green tooth paste lumps. -He stepped out of the washroom and felt the cool air of the apartment. The sinks’ water had cooled down. He cleaned the dishes. -PART 2- -Kurtis turned off the vacuum cleaner and answered the phone. “Hey,” Kurtis’s stomach sank when he remember he didn’t hide the torn up nurse outfit. “Hey, I’m outside.” “I’ll buzz you, See you in a bit,” He hung up and quickly pressed the button to open the apartment buildings’ front door. -He panicked. His apartment wasn’t as clean as he wanted it to be. The bed wasn’t made, the garbage was full, his coffee was cold. He was hungry. The microwave wasn’t clean. He hadn’t showered. Kurtis took off his sweaty boxers and pulled on his pajama pants and an old hoodie. There was a knock at the door and he opened it. He forgot how much taller he was than her. “Hey.” “Hi,” Toni stepped in and took off her jacket. Kurtis saw her left fore arm. From wrist to elbow was hot pink. The time was lit in white light under the skin. “How’d that go for you?” Kurtis pointed. She shrugged and folded her arms, “The Stitching wasn’t bad. Was under a mood organ so didn’t feel a thing.” “Was it a full installation or still got your phone?” “Yeah still got it. Chickened out when I thought about what if scenarios of it breaking and having to get further surgery, right?” Kurtis stepped uneasily and put his hands in his pockets, “Thinking of further installs?” She bit her lip, “I once went to a concert and saw a dude with the inside of his mouth fully stitched. He had it light up in different colors which changed to the beat of the music. I don’t think I need anything like that.” Kurtis scratched his neck and said, “I’ll get your stuff.” -Kurtis walked to his bedroom while Toni stepped into thee living room and put her hand on the vacuum cleaner handle.She heard a bell jingle and looked down to see  Crystal, who was peeping out from under the futon. Toni squatted slowly, smiled nicely and held out her knuckle. Toni said “hey” in a high pitched voice. Crystal hummed threateningly and hissed, flaring her curved incisors. Toni stopped smiling and stood back up. Kurtis walked in with the shopping bag and Crystal galloped past him to the bedroom. “She still doesn’t like me,” Toni folded her arms. “She doesn’t like anyone,” Kurtis shrugged. “She’s been giving Shawn Hell.” “Shawn moved in?” “About a week ago. He sleeps on the futon and Crystal hides underneath, scares him, then runs away.” “That’s an asshole move.” “She’s guarding her territory I suppose.” “So being an asshole is more of a byproduct?” she joked. Kurtis didn’t say anything and handed over the shopping bag. Toni exhaled and accepted it. She looked inside the bag. “I found one of your socks,” Kurtis rubbed the back of his neck. “Couldn’t find the second one.” “That’s fine,” she looked up and away, “I was... yeah, thank you, that’s fine.” -There was a second of silence. They both breathed in the void between them. “I should get going,” Toni murmured and hurried to the door. “I need to clean,” Kurtis put his hands in his pockets and took them out. Halfway out the door came a muted “bye” and the door shut. -Kurtis inhaled deeply and walked into the kitchen. He stared at the microwave. His gut neither churned or felt full. “It’s fine,” Kurtis said. He sat on the futon and put on his Virtual Reality Headset. -PART 3- -Kurtis was miming the act of reloading a rocket launcher when he felt the air pressure of the room change. He paused the game and took off his headset to see the blurry image of Shawn shut the door. He put on his glasses. “Hey.” “Hey,” Shawn muttered. He was filthy and kept his work boots and tool belt on as he walked through the living room towards the balcony. “How was work?” “Oh, it was work” he opened the balcony door and sat on the chair he brought out there a few days earlier. He dropped his tool belt onto the wooden balcony floor. He pressed and pried on the heel of his new lace-less work boots and gasped when it was kicked off. He slid his wet sock off his foot and let it slap onto the floor. Then he took off his other boot. “Are you okay?” Kurtis almost laughed, “Do you need anything?” “Nah,” Shawn flexed and crunched his hot toes. He took off his work shirt to reveal his pale clean body that it covered. His arms were layered with sweat and dirt. Shawn leaned his arms onto his knees. “Just give me a minute. How’d today go for you.” Kurtis stayed on the couch, “Went fine.” “Went smoothly?” “Yeah, no issues, in and out.” “Good, good,” Shawn trailed off, continuing to scrunch his toes. Kurtis considered whether Shawn had lost interest in the topic or ran out of things to say. Shawn started talking again, “Did you go to the liquor store yet?” “Not yet. We still have a few hours until they come over,” “When are Sarah and Elsa coming over?” Kurtis check his phone, the time read 16:49, “Around 3 hours.” “Still fine with having people over?” “Yeah I’ll be fine with it. Elsa won’t be staying long and not drinking so really it’ll just be Sarah staying.” “Alright,” Shawn nibbled his lip then stood, his knees cracked. “I’m going to have a shower and when I’m done want to head down to get booze?” “Sure thing,” Kurtis picked up his head set. “What are you playing?” “Atomic Black Crypt.” Shawn thought for a second and then asked, “ What do you do in that?” “Mostly shoot giant bugs.” “Anything else?” “Sometimes all a man wants is a weapon and something to hate.” -Shawn nodded; he took a towel, a pair of boxers from the hollow foot rest and headed to the washroom. Kurtis took off his glasses, put on the headset and lay back. He returned to the ruined digital city. High-rises toppled, cars smoking and mashed. Kurtis raised his weightless bazooka and moved onward. He followed the map on his digital wrist. -He came across a nest of giant praying mantis’s: the generic soldier enemy. They hadn’t seen him yet so Kurtis took cover and looked up at the side of the buildings. Giant purple spiders hung and crawled on its sides; the artillery units. Kurtis aimed and curled his finger. -Sounds of the hissing rocket blasted in Kurtis’ eyes. His aim was true and the rocket hit and blew up a spider. It turned into a green goopy mess and the body fell, its death animation made its legs curl inward as it fell. Before retaliation, Kurtis reloaded and fired again, taking another spider down. The surviving spiders snarled and shot acidic white web at him. He dodged and dived, firing back. The praying mantis’ charged and were now upon him, claws raised. Kurtis backed away, dropping mines while still gunning down the spiders. The mantis’s stepped on the mines and blew up, legs, eyes and claws flew in the black, firey smoke. -Kurtis felt his stomach being poked repeatedly. He paused the game and took off the headset. He blinked several times and said “What?” -Shawn had been poking him with his big toe. He put his foot down, “Want to get going? Thanks for cleaning as well” -PART 4- “Kurtis!” Sarah bellowed and stepped in, giving him a hug, plastic bags of bottles hanged from her arms. Her head came up to his chest. Elsa squeezed in behind. “Hello,” Kurtis felt himself laughing in shock and hugged back. Shawn came around the corner. He’d already drank 2 bottles, “Sarah! Elsa!” “Hey! You’re back!” “I am.” “How it going? How’d Edmonton go?” “Was okay,” Shawn scratched his nose, “Want me to get those bags?” “You may,” Sarah handed Shawn a bag and they both went into the kitchen. Kurtis went to Elsa, “How’s your new job?” “Have you ever seen the steady process of a sheep embryo growing in goop inside a plastic bag?” Kurtis didn’t know how to answer. “It’s pretty great,” Elsa smiled. Kurtis laughed, “Could you give me a tour of your place?” “Yeah,” Kurtis felt the waistband of his pants slipping down so he raised them back up. From the kitchen Shawn asked Sarah, “What’s that?” "Got a light tattoo installed,” She placed the bag of bottles on the counter top and took off her jacket to show. Shawn looked; from the back of her hand to her chest was lit with white light, patterned like flowers, vines and spirals. "How was that installed?" "They used an electric needle to puncture these microscopic chips into my skin, unlike getting stitched which is more of a wire mesh. Less chance of the body rejecting it. " "I thought you wanted to be a teacher?" stated Shawn, "Teachers aren't allowed tattoos." Sarah smiled and said "I didn't get a tattoo for the longest time because of that; but with this it lights up and turns off whenever I want. The skin looks a little darker but other than that, I can blend in perfectly." "Very creative of you." Shawn and Sarah began to mix drinks while Kurtis led Elsa into the living room to look around and examine the apartment. Crystal galloped from under the futon and through her legs."The fuck?" Elsa watched it go. Kurtis stepped up, "Just Crystal, is all." "Your Dad's?" "Technically mine now. When Dad was packing he didn't want to keep her so I did instead." "Was she adopted?" "Yes she was. My Dads' boyfriend wanted to get an exotic hybrid." "Why'd he adopt?" Kurtis shrugged, "Wanted good karma probably. Apparently doesn't believe in that anymore." They walked down the hallway towards the washroom. They heard Sarah and Shawn laugh. "Was probably the price that was the final straw," Elsa said, "Hybrids are generally expensive to feed." "Do you make hybrids at the Pet Store?" "Nah, we just get orders and grow the clones. Pot bellied pigs are the most popular." "Why?" "Smart little things. Before cloning, there was a level of uncertainty if the pig was going to remain small. Some fake breeders selling regular piglets only to have them weigh 200 pounds in a year. So, we clone and grow so they stay small and extra cute." They stepped into the washroom."I like it," said Elsa, "so pink." "I hate it. Look at this stupid thing," Kurtis pulled back the shower curtain and pointed at the shower head. Elsa saw it was lower than Kurtis's head."Oh no. That's hilarious." "See what I mean?" "What do you mean?" Shawn came up behind Kurtis, shot glasses in each hand. Sarah with him also holding shot glasses. "Here take this." Kurtis accepted it and smelt the spice and cinnamon burn this nostrils, “What is it?" "For you," Elsa said, she looked at the shower-head and laughed, "how'd you fit in there?" Shawn answered, "he has to bend to wash his hair." "That's hilarious," Sarah put down the other shot glasses and pulled out her phone. "Get in the shower and drink." "What?" Kurtis laughed uncertainly. "I want to see," encouraged Elsa, unfolding her arms, "It'd be funny." "We'll be taking shots too," Shawn held a shot glass reassuringly. Kurtis couldn't find a way to squeeze past them. The three of them had inched their way closer and closer to him. He moved back further and further, one leg after the other until he was standing in the bath tub. There was no way to escape. "Cheers!" Drank Shawn. Sarah clicked her drink with Kurtis and drank.Kurtis brought it up to his lips. The smell burned his nostrils and he sipped. "Drink!" called Elsa. "Why you sipping?” Sarah's forehead was pink. "Do it," laughed Shawn. Kurtis did. He couldn't breath for a second and gasped. His eyes and nose were scrunched up, his ears and face fired up  "Oh God." The flash went off on Sarah's' phone and everyone cheered, Shawn laughing and flicked the light on and off repeatedly. Sarah's light tattoo shone in blues and greens. Elsa cheered, "next one." "Here," Sarah already pushed the glass into Kurtis' hands. "Oh no." "Do it, you're supposed to," Shawn persuaded. He wasn't holding a glass. "Yeah do it, go nuts," Elsa took her phone out. Kurtis clenched his fingers to a fist and drank. His eyes stang from the fumes and watered up, glasses fogging. Elsa took a picture. Kurtis tried to laugh along with them. Then they offered him one more and he drank it. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kurtis collapsed onto the futon and groaned deeply. Shawn and Elsa played beer pong in the office room. Kurtis thought about the time he made Toni a bubble bath; she found out that he used regular dish soap and called him a dumb-ass and they laughed.Sarah sat next to him, her arm a deep red. "How's it going?" "I'm going to explode on someone." "Well," she stroked the hair on his arm, "let's not do that. Do you want me to go through your phone?" "Why?" he thought about how Toni once backed up into a lamp post outside the apartment building. He laughed and said 'how'd you miss that?' and she replied 'I thought you were backing me up.' "To delete pictures of her. It'll help you cope." Kurtis's legs were numb, he held his sweaty forehead and groaned deeply. "What are you thinking about?" "This morning," Kurtis started, " I cleaned up and she came round for her stuff then left. It was so easy. I wasn't expecting that. I don't think I wanted that." "Must've been awkward with both of you." "I know," the sweat was cooling down, he felt icy, "but we couldn't say anything?" "Maybe it was for the best." Kurtis sighed. He barely said bye to her. "Let me go through your phone. It'll help." Kurtis handed it over. He watched Shawn chugged his beer and continue playing beer pong with Elsa. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Elsa left early. Shawn and Sarah drank together then sat with Kurtis. Sarah in-between. They put on Virtual Reality Headsets and chose a Deep Space Reality from the most popular list.  From there they floated in the great digital nothing to marvel at the giant Horse Nebula. Plumes of hot glowing dust and asteroids soared around them. Although the quiet of outer space was an option, there was a deep echoy soundtrack to really sell the feel of being out there. They could feel the chill, the vastness and loneliness of it all.Shawn's chest tightened as he held his breath and reached his hand for Sarah's'. She held his and squeezed. Shawn breathed easier and squeezed back. The view faded and now they floated above Jupiter's giant red eye. It spiraled in an ever lasting hurricane. They watched the chaos of it. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Sarah stroked Kurtis' shoulder to wake him, "Common, let's take you to bed." They removed his headset and Shawn let Kurtis lean on him on the way to the bedroom and flopped him on the bed. "Oh God this is comfortable." "Glad you like it, probably better than the futon," said Shawn. "Think you'll be alright?" asked Sarah. "The cat," mumbled Kurtis, "sorry it smells in here." "It's fine." "No it isn't. I don't like it either but didn't do anything about it." "Just go to sleep," said Shawn, he held Sarah's hand. "It’ll be better tomorrow." "Goodnight," said Sarah. They started to leave. "Shawn," Kurtis reached out. Shawn turned at the doorway and Sarah kept going, "What's up mate?" "I tore up her dress." "What?" "I feel bad about it. I think she wanted it back but I tore it up. I think she thinks I kept it for pervert reasons." "What dress?" ""Her nurse dress. I tore it up and threw it away. I'm not a pervert." "I don't think you are." "What if she thinks I am and tells people?" "Doesn't matter," said Shawn, "You're out of her life and she's out of yours." Kurtis didn't know how to feel and before he could reply Shawn interrupted, "Get to sleep. I'll see you tomorrow."

[sgtnutmeg-blog]

Kiki Mora

Kiki stood back up. Still breathing heavily and her arms were sore, but the cold was starting to sink back in. Serves you right for waiting this long, could of been inside but you decided to not have any firewood spare so here you are like a fool. She brushed snow off her shoulders, pushed her sleeves down her pink arms. Going to have to pull them back up in no time. Her axe started it have snow building on top of it,  nearly had to dig it back out. She didn't mind the cold stabbing her fingers. The ice had a thousand promises of taking them away from her. She didn't worry a single thing about that. What she did mind was the little pain in her spine. That kind of pain that you shrug off. You can keep going. Just be a little more careful that's all. It's just a little pinch. No harm in that. It'll go away once you put your mind off it. But it creeps, and creeps. building up until to hurts too much to simply stand. She felt that little pinch and that little fucker is just going to make itself home unless she stopped now. If you stop you'll both freeze. Kiki cracked her neck, crunched her finger, stretched up high to reach the sky on her tip toes. Sniffed the cold air, grabbed a log, stood it up right. Aimed then swung. Whoosh. Spilt. The two pieces of the jumped apart. Splinters flying up to fall with the snow. Next one. Aim. Swing. Split. Repeat. Breath in deeply through the nose. It warms the air before it gets to the lungs. Would be coughing them up if you breath improper. Any ice that builds up in her nose, she just digs it out and continues. Split. This once had been hard for her. Bubbling blisters bursting and burning. Got good thick skin now. This is nothing. Get the right stance, the right swing, nothing stood in her way. Split. She built this cabin in these woods by herself. Split. Kiki had no experience in something mundane as building a house from scratch. Split. Strangely, the mundaneness was what made it fun. Being used to living in luxury. Never got the chance to actually create something for the sole purpose of being comfortable. Split. She pushed up her sleeves now that she was getting too hot. Pink arms. Split. Kiki heard little awkward crunches in the snow. Split one more log and turned around. Mora with her messy red hair looking down at her boots, carefully lifting one up in front of the other so she doesn't fall over. Snow crunching under her boots. "Hey there love," She softly said, "What you up to?" Mora rose her head. Big toothy smile, "ye." "You hungry?" She shook her head. "Cold?" Shook her head. "I'm too busy to play love, I've got a lot of work." Mora pointed at the split logs, "ye." "The logs? What about them?" "Ye." "You want to help?" "Ye!" She interlocked her fingers and jumped in excitement. "You want to help me out darling?" "Ye." "Okay," she rubbed her nose. Numb. "Okay, get your gloves on and you can take some of these split logs inside, okay?" "Ye!" Mora turned back to the cabin and went back through the snow. Kiki continued slicing down the logs. Mora returned and carefully picked up a log over half her size and slowly brought it inside. Kiki looked up inbetween each stroke, making sure Mora wasn't going to trip over. She never did.

When Kiki decided enough had been chopped for a day she started to assist Mora in piling up the wood. On the last trip back she ran up behind her unsuspecting daughter and picked her right up. She wiggled and giggled in her mothers arm. They made their way inside and Kiki walked up to the fire pit. It had died down a bit. Needed feeding. "Ok Mora, in we go," she held Mora in a throwing position, "A one, a two..." Mora shook her head and made complaining noises. "Aren't you cold love?" "Ye." "Well the fire is hot, you'll warm right up." Mora shook her head back and forth, humming loudly. Kiki laughed. "Oh maybe another time," She bent her knees and placed Mora on her feet. "Here I want you to help me make this fire bigger." Mora shook her head. "C'mon darling we'll get it right this time. Here I'll help." Kiki grabbed some tinder and balled it up in her hands. "Okay, so hold this. Mora, c'mon hold it in both hands... both hands. Yes that's it. Now here comes the hard part alright? I want you to feel the warmth and fire in your tummy." She placed a hand on Moras' belly. " I want you to feel it build up in you then let it rise up up body, through your mouth and release it on to the tinder. You can do it love. Just like Mummy showed." Mora concentrated hard, brow low, staring at the ball of tinder. She looked pale. Concentrating harder and harder. Sweat on her brow. She then puked, mostly on the floor, some splating her clothes. "Okay okay that's enough for today," Kiki started to while the puke off her clothes and her mouth. She saw tears in Moras years. "Oh don't worry my love," she switched sleeves to wipe the tears, "now go change and I'll get you something to eat. Okay?" "Ye," Mora mumbled, she ran off Kiki watched her go. She smiled. She grabbed and struck her flint at he tinder, some of the spark catching hold and making themselves home. Kiki blew lightly on them and build on to feed it. As it got bigger and more hungry she built around it with sticks and log halfs for later. Shortly Mora came back in new clothes and stood next to her mother. Kiki sat Mora on her knee and hugged her warmly. Watching the fire dance and illuminate the cabin. They ate silently then went to sleep together.

The next day Kiki refueled the glowing embers. She grabbed a pot and approached the door. The cold and some snow flakes rushed in when the door was opened. Kiki scooped up some snow into the pot and returned inside. Kiki hung the pot over he fire so the by the time she came back it would have melted. She got dressed, grabbed her fur coat, a basket she made but really needed to fix, knife, gave Mora a kiss on her warm head and stepped out into the winter wonderland. The snow powder was up to her knees, but there was no wind which all she really wanted. Not that is would stop her, it was just nicer if it didn't feel like someone was stabbing her in the eyes with a frozen hedgehog. Kiki loved it in the middle of the forest. Before they left her sister told her not to. That it was pointless to live out here. To force yourself into living a day at a time. While true it took her a while to be comfortable not washing every day, getting used to foodless weeks and she was still not used to the winters. Nonetheless, this was her home now. She had herself. She had Mora. She was happy. Kiki waded through the snow, following the marked trees which she had carved the bark off of years before. Before long she was upon the shallow river. She walked up stream, soon finding a plot of watercrass she had been saving for today. She had harvested what she could in a reasonable distance down stream and avoided upstream in case of emergencies when food was scarce. Kiki squeeze through the grabbing bushes that lined the river, removed her boots, folded up her pant legs and waded into the water. She took out her knife, grabbed a handful of watercrass, sliced off the tops. She hummed to herself to make the monotonous work ever more enjoyable, and to distracted herself from the freezing water. There were sudden splashes down stream. She twisted and looked. On the opposite side of the river a man wearing thick boots and a heavy riding coat was kneeling on the edge, his hat was off, gloves lying next to him. He cupped his hands, allowed them to fill with water, then wiped his face and bald head. He gave out a faint gasp when the water contacted his face and kept his eyes closed breathing steadily as it trickled down his face. Kiki left the river silently, never losing sight of the man. She knelt and picked up her boots down the beach. Her legs were numb and she shook to keep herself steady. She walked slowly and carefully down the beach, concentrating on not losing her footing. Each pebble she stood on shifted and creaked. She become more nervous. She shook more. Her footing gave way and she feel down, bruising her knees. Kiki swung her head around. The man was looking directly at her, fists clenched. She pushed herself up. She had to get to her daughter, she had to get away from here now. the bark of a tree exploded followed by a roar in the woods. She slowly turned around. He had lowered his dragoon pistol, pulling a lever to re-chamber it then raised it back up at her. "I need you to hold still right there m'am. I will not miss and I will follow your tracks to find where you came from," he ordered, "All I want is your hospitality." A younger second man holding a blunderbuss in one hand came out of the woods. He looked at his partner, then towards Kiki. She saw the first man mumble to the second man. He nodded, glanced at Kiki and returned into the bushes. "What is your name?" His hand was steady. She made no reply. "If you want to put those boots back on you may." She still didn't move. "We need accommodations, food and direction. If the frost gets to your legs that will be no concern to my friend and I's. If you choose to not have to saw them off, I heavily suggest you wake up and do what is important for your own survival." He was right of course. She had allowed herself to panic and wasn't thinking straight. She had to do better for her daughters sake. She slid her fur lined boots back on her feet. As she was knelt down she saw the handle of her knife in the basket. She steadily reached for it, to put it up her sleeve. Taking it out in one fluid motion to take down at least one before taking out the other. She was fast enough if given the chance. "No," he shouted, "Leave the basket. Stand and look at me." The second man returned with their hastily packed bags and tent, along with something long and thin wrapped in a thick cloth that was strapped on his back. The first man received his leather purse from the second man without lowering his pistol. The second man held his blunderbuss at waist height towards Kiki. He began to walk towards her through the stream that reached his knees. The first man set his hat on his head, picked up his gloves and followed through the river Once the second man got to her he checked her wet basket filled with the watercrass. He pocketed her knife, grabbed a handful of the water crass and crewed on it. The first man came to her and looked her hard in the eye. "I'm going to have to check you for anything that could do us ham. We are your friends and all we want is your help, are we understood?" She raised her eyebrows and glanced at thee blunderbuss pointed at her, "You must have a lot of friends if you're always like this." "Are we understood?" He held is eyes. She stared back at him. "Yes," she said through a toothy grin. He nodded and had her raise her arms. He patted her arms, sides, waist, legs. Checked around the insides of her boots, stood back up and nodded towards his partner who lowered his gun, but didn't holster it. "I am Jacques, he is Vincent of house Valois. We have traveled far and seek shelter until land clears." "You haven't traveled this far North often have you?" "No," he admitted. Kiki smiled, "Just two outlaws in way over their heads, eh?" "Don't you speak to us like that," she lazily glanced over at Vincent. "We will not be talked down upon." "And I will not be threatened fool," she said, "You're a little under dressed for this far north aren' t you? And the way you're holding your arm there boy, "she pointed with her chin, "You're not going to survive much longer." The men said nothing "So how about, "she continued, "you think of your life and your choices, then in the next one you won't be as stupid." Vincent brought his gun and around in a solid arc into the side of her head. She didn't remember falling down, Kiki just found herself using a tree to help her back up groggily. She took her time getting up from her knees. Her toes were still numb and she nearly tripped. Then her head started to throb and the low drone of burst ear drums sank in. She dug her nails in tree bark to help her up, but as the cold sweat hit mixing with the steady stream of warm  blood trickling down her face, her stomach seezed and she coughed up it's contents. Jacques and Vincent were shouting at each other. She heard Jacques and Vincent shouting. They were already on edge, so maybe feed their fear and paranoia? Turn them against each other as the hours pass, ask them questions, give praise to the older one and subtly humiliating the other. She saw blood drip from her face and land in the snow. She already tried that plan, angering the men when Mora was around would be a terrible idea.  Jacques approached her and held her arm tight. "Take us to your home, now." She knew he was losing control. Panic was in his eyes. The younger one had an injured arm. No doubt they'll require her to inspect it. Probably bandage it. Did she have anything she could use to her advantage? "Just kill her-" "You will remain silent!" Jacques shouted, he turned back to Kiki. "Take us to your home. Now." She felt her brow, it was sticky with blood. "Allow me to clean my head first." Jacques breathed heavily, his darting into hers. He grunted and waked her to the river. She bent her legs, cupped her hands into the water and gently rubbed her head. She did have something to use on Incidents arm. Clean the blood off, sneak some fungus in. She didn't know what it would do. She tested it on a young injured doe she found. In hours it appeared to be reliving its least favourate nightmare. An injured doe and a full grown man were different things, would she get the same result? "That's enough," Jacques yanked her back to her feet and pushed her towards the tree line. "Take us to your home." She cracked her neck, grabbed the basket and walked on through the snow. She couldn't just poison the food, they'd be expecting it. She'd need to time it right. If she could get her mushrooms into Vincents' arm, at one point he'll collapse. Jacques first instinct would be to check on him. Then it's only a matter of which pointy object or blunt instrument to use from behind. She took out her Handkerchief  and dabbed it on her head. The plan was shit but it was the best she had. And since they were outlaws and panicking there are going to be hunters tracking them which would be the start of a whole other problem. And then there was Mora. Dear Mora. She couldn't risk hoping they will stay the night and leave. If the hunters found the house that will be a new level of danger, whether or not she killed the men or they left. She needed a plan fast. She opened the door to her home. Apart from the blazing fire it was dark inside. She dropped the basket to the side and went straight for the boiling pot above the fire. She picked it carefully and quickly and poured it into a bucket. As the men entered, taking off their hats and pocketing their gloves, Kiki scanned around for her daughter. She was out of sight. That was for the best. Vincent had taken off his heavy coat and was by the bucket of hot water. He kept on his red waist coat and white cotton shirt. His upper right arm was strapped with stained bandages. He tested the heat, then dipped one hand in and started to wash his face. She wished she had the opportunity to poison that water. She needed to use every opportunity she had at her disposal. Very aware that she won't be able to use the poisoned hot water trick again, she took the steaming pot and filled it with more snow to melt. Might as well. Kiki returned the pot. Jocques was walking around the house with his satchel open. He was finding any knife, sharp object, anything she could of use to bludgeon the men and dropping them all into the satchel. Vincent finished washing and was now drying off his face. His arm was still cradled close to him. She and Jacques' faces were pink as their blood rushed back into their heads. Vincent on the other hand was still as pale as the snow. "Do you want me to look at your arm?" "It's fine," he grumbled. He tried his best to casually look at the house and hide his arm. "At least let me get you new bandages," she made a movement to where the mushrooms were hidden. "You won't do a thing," Jocques was walking towards her closing the satchel. "An imbecile like yourself can see that they need changing." "An imbecile like myself knows that you're not wanting to do it out of pity," he tapped his satchel, it's contents clinged together. "We have our own bandages and we will change them when the time comes." "When the infection takes his arm?" "Shut her mouth." "Remain calm Vincent," Jocques ordered. He turned back to Kiki, "you will take every opportunity to kill us. We are not killers-" "Just thieves." "-or thieves. We will stay until the snow passes then we will leave." Kiki gave a throaty laugh, "Why did you come this far North if you know nothing of it? You didn't come here by choice and judging by your friends arm," she could feel Vincent glaring at her, "You've been forced here because you have killed and because you stole that." She pointed at the thick cloth wrapped tightly around the object it was hiding, Vincent looked at Jocques. "I have seen a lot of killers and a lot of thieves in  my life time and you are no better and no different." Jocques said nothing. "So Jocques of house Valois," she spat, "if you are to be under my household, we best learn to get along. Because your plan is not going to work. If a hoard of hunters came knocking on the door, they will find you and they will burn me in here. I will make you a map of the best way to escape these lands, I don't care if you trust me. All you should care about is how well you treat me." Silence. Kikis' heart was ripping itself from her chest. If Mora is found she'd have no leverage. They'll take her, thearten to kill her and force them to show them the best route and they will all die out there. "So," she resisted a stutter. "Give me a knife so I can prepare supper." The water in the pot started to bubble. The popping was the only sound to go between any of them. Jocques gave in, rummaged in the satchel and pulled out a small knife. "I will help you so you don't poison us, Vincent?" He looked up, "sit in the corner, if she tries anything, shoot her in the leg," Jocques handed over his pistol, "Your blunderbuss will blow us both away. We need a route out of here." "With pleasure," he grabbed the pistol, chambered it and walked over to the bed. As he sat down Kiki was screaming in her head, praying that Mora wasn't going to be found. Vincent sat heavily down, pistol on his lap, looking as threatening as possible. He concealed the pain in his arm fairly well. The stew she made for them all wasn't imaginative. Jocques had been carefully watching her throw food in. He did not allow any of the mushrooms to be used. Vincient was quiet, not always watching though. Kiki took the occasional chance to look around to him. He was always holding his arm, picking at the dried blood on his bandages. "When has the last time you changed those bandages?" "Are we talking about this again?" Jocques murmured. "It appears we are." "How unfortunate." "Losing the arm would be unfortunate." Jocques clenched his fists and mutter under his breath. "You know I'm right." "Be silent." She returned to work, Jocques took a second to look away over to Vincent. Kiki slipped three hidden spotted mushrooms under her sleeve.  Jocques turned back. "Is this done yet?" "It was done a while ago." "Then why didn't you say something?" "Was hoping you'd be inspired to add an actual flavor to this stew." Jocques said nothing. He spooned out a bowl and handed it to Kiki, "Yours." She nodded, walked over to the table. Vincent saw this and stepped over to the table too. He reached over to her bowl and she slapped his hand. "Mine." Vincent stared at her, she looked back. "Here," Jocques came up and placed a bowl down for Vincent. He reluctantly accepted it and sat down. Both Kiki and Jocques sat down with him. The men rested their elbows on the table as they ate, while Kiki hand one hand to spoon up the stew. The other she used to let the mushroom on her lap. Her wrist as already irritated from touching the fungus. She used a Handkerchief to pick up the mushrooms and she slowly crushed them inside. "This tastes awful," commented Vincent. "Not my fault," replied Kiki. The mushrooms were in small lumps inside the rag. Jocques begrudgingly lifted the bowl and swallowed the rest. He closed his eyes and made a face. Went to get more. Vincent just played with his food. "You need to your bandages changed Vincent." He sniffed and smiled gravely. "And you would want to do that?" "I don't feel like holding you down as Jocques saws off your arm." "That's enough woman!" shouted Jocques. "These are long winters my lordship," she spat, turned back to Vincent, "If I'm stuck with you I might as well keep you in one peace." Vincent tapped his spoon rapidly on the table. "And what would you do?" Vincent asked. "My best, inspect it, clean the wound, do what needs to be done." "His arm is fine," Jocques said, "he received a cut so I burnt it to seal the wound to stop any infection." "And when was the last time you inspected it? Last time you cleaned it?" Kiki demanded. "Enough!" yelled Vincient. Kiki and Jocques looked at him. "You," pointing at Kiki, "do what you need to do. If I get suspicious I'll shoot you in the leg are we clear?" Kiki nodded, hiding the victory she was feeling in her eyes. "The Hell are you doing Vincent?" "I don't know," he said honestly, "For some reason I'm stuck in this house in the snow. It was supposed to be a straight forward mission and a lot of people died. All under your command." "Don't you blame me for what happened!" He stormed over. Kiki jumped out of the way as Vincient flipped the table to confront Jocques. "I will blame you! It was your mission and you failed all those men back there." Kiki looked between the men. In the darkness she could see her child, still as stone and hidden well. She felt a mass amount of strain leave her. "If we did not retrieve the Hammer, many more of our people would die!" Kiki started to pay attention. "Those men died for a nobal cause, they will not die in vain because this woman poisons us!" "We both have been watching her all afternoon and will still be watching her look at my am," he said through clenched teeth.

High tension and heavy breathing. Kiki gave her daughter a wink to imply that everything will be okay and under control. She wondered if Mora knew she was lying. Vincent turned the table back up and sat back down, clicked his fingers at her. "Come tend to my arm," he rested it on a table. She glanced at Jocques. "He doesn't need healing, over here," he didn't even look over at Kiki. She sighed. Kiki grabbed the bucket of water and a large piece of cloth. Started to unravel the dried bandages. As each layer slowly came off they started to stick more and more and become harder to take off. Vincent twitched breathed through his nose. "Be more careful." "Being as careful as I can." "No your not, do better. She stopped what she was doing, "The blood has dried up and these bandages are stuck to your wound. That's because you didn't use a wet cloth directly on to it. What I'm going to have to do is tear this dirty rag off and reopen the wound." Vincent twisted his head to her with wide threatening but scared eyes. Pale as the moon and sweating. "I'm going to need to create an ointment to help your arm from infection." "You'll do no such thing," Jocques ordered. "And what we you have me do?" Questioned Kiki, "apply cold water and kiss it better?" "Stay out of this Jocques." "I will not put your safety in her hands man!" Vincent shrugged, "We both already are." He nodded to Kiki. She continued "I will not be part of this," growled Jocques. . Blood trickled down his arm onto the table. The bandage ticked as it unstuck itself from the black dried blood. He held a fist not moving, only allowing his face to flinch. Kiki came to a the last bit. It was dug in there with the careerist wound. "After burning it did you rub ice to cool it down?" "Yes," Vincent panted. "Well after this I doubt you'll have any nerves left in your upper arm. I'm going to have to rip this right off. Here give me a moment, "she turned to Jocques and held out a bloodied hand, "Give me a bullet for him to bite down on." He huffed at her and continued to sharpen hit knife. "Your gun is right next to you. Give me a bullet, I can't do anything with a ball of metal." Jocques made no move. "Some in my satchel," Vincent gasped. Kiki stood up, balled up rag with crushed mushrooms being held tight. "No!" Jocques check his satchel and pulled out a bullet, "here." Jocques threw it, which Kiki purposefully missed catching, letting it drop. "You're not getting another," chuckled Jocquess. He continued to sharpen his knife. She bent down and searched for the bullet, allowed some dirt and wood chucks to be caught on her bloody fingers and picked up the metal ball. She slipped it into the mouth of Vincient, who accepted it begrudgingly. "Couldn't of cleaned it beforehand?" He made a motion to spit out the chunks. "No," she tore off the rest of the bandage. It was hard to say how much skin she took off.  She sat back down next to him, took out of the mushroom rag and dipped it into the bucket of water. "This is going to sting." "Fuck you!" Kiki squeezed the rag and rubbed it into the the bloodied arm. She ignored the shouts, wiped the blood, forced mushroom into his arm, let it bleed more, rag in the bucket, repeat. He was sweating violently and banging his free arm on the table. Jocques must've felt sympathy because he went out side and came back with his Handkerchief  covered in snow. He dabbed Vincents' brow to cool him off. When Kiki was sure a decent amount of hallucinatory mushrooms was in his arm and blood stream, she did a final wipe down, folded and wetted a new rag. She applied it carefully on to his arm, got Jocques to hold it in position as she started to wrap around it. The knot was tied and no blood was seeping through. Jocques rubbed the back of Vincent head. "How d'you feel?" Vincent spat the ball into Jocques chest, who laughed hard and pulled him in for a hig. Kiki could tell that this was the closest thing to fuck they've both had in weeks.

Kiki predicted that Vincent will be affected in 30 minutes. As soon as he was down and Jocques made a move to check on him she had to acct fast. Jocques lay Vincent on her bed. Jocques had every sharp object in his satchel. Her axe was outside. It'd take too long to get it, she had maybe 5-10 seconds of Jocques being distracted by Vincent. To get the axe she'd have to run outside grab it and run back in. And that's hoping He wouldn't notice her suddenly running away. She could not risk that. Maybe there's a usable weapon in Vincents' satchel? Jocques was stroking Vincients hair by the bedside. Another idea was to sneak Jocques knife from his belt, or maybe his pistol. Although she was never a great pickpocket he may not be too aware of much as soon as Vincent starts to have his hallucinations. There are too many maybes in this scenario. Jocques walked over to the table and chairs rubbing his eyes. "Long day then?" "Long day," he rubbed his nose. "Well I dont suppose you'll be sleeping." "You suppose correctly," he started to tap his fingers on the table. "Here, sit down, lets talk." She folded her arms, "about what?" "About anything." "And if I don't?" "Well if you don't feel like talking there's not much I can do about that except talk at you. If I'm going to be awake all night I'd like a bit of company and he's not talking much so I'm left with my second best option." He looked over at her. He made a motion with his hand to beckon her over and he sat down. SHe kept her arms folded. He took out his sheathed knife from his belt. "See this?" He threw it onto the bed next to Vincent, pulled out his pistol, cocked it, pulled the trigger, empty, laid it on the table. "I'm disarmed, don't worry." "And your satchel?" "What of it?" She raised her eyebrows. Jocques removed the satchel and dropped it to his boots. "Happy?" "Haven't felt this good in days, why?" "Well it's about to get better because I'm great company so sit down." Maybe she could club him to  death with the butt of the pistol. Too many maybes. Kiki stepped over to the table and sat. No words were passed. "Why live out here?" Jocques questioned, scratching his stubble chin and looking around. "What do you get from this? Why live by yourself in the middle of no where surviving?" "You must be a lord." "Don't what that has to do with anything." "Of course it does." "If, you're implying that I don't enjoy living off the land and traveling you're wrong. It's the seclusion I don't understand. You're living out here on purpose." He had his arms folded as well, "why is that?" "There doesn't have to be a reason," she shrugged. "It's more interesting if there is." "Sorry to disappoint you, I'm not interesting," she smiled. "Why are you out here?" "I like the weather." "Must do since you're not wearing the right gear and don't know where you are." ""Makes it more fun." "Oh yes it does," she said dryly, "why are you out here?" He picked his nose with his thumb not looking at her. "On a mission." "What mission?" "I'll tell you my secret if you tell me yours," he flicked his noses contents. Kiki didn't look away. "Was in an arranged mar ridge and had to get away from it." "Are you seriously taking that route?" "It's true." "No," he said, "No it's not." "What are you expecting to get out of this?" "I need to pass the time and haven't had a good conversation in weeks," he rubbed his face and leaned forward, put his elbows on the table. "I'm trying to get a good chat, that's all." "That's all?" "Yes," he cracked his knuckles, "that's all so lets start over and stop this going around in circles. How are you?" Vincents'  mushrooms weren't kicking in fast enough, "I'm fine." "That must be nice, how's life in the house?" "Quiet." "Why's that?" "I live by myself." "Were's your husband?" "Never married." "Why's that?" "Never interested me." "See?" He smiled, "being social is fun, isn't it fun? "Fantastic." "Your turn." "With what?' "Ask me questions, good friends get to know eachother so lets get to know eachother." He lowered his head in a 'get on with it' fashion. Kiki sat still, "You're a soldgier." "That I am." "Why are you out here?" "I volenteered." "That was a mistake." "Never noticed." "What did you steal?" "Secret." "I stole a child, what did you steal?" Jocques paused and looked at her straight in the eye, "Something very dangerous that will help my people." "That's not vague." "Not as vague as your secret. What child?" "One that was going to be sacrificed." "Where is it?" "Dead," she shrugged, "living, I had to give it away." "Why? You're fairly secluded out here, couldn't you of kept it?" "That was before I came out here." "Is that so?" He rubbed his chin. "What did you and your men steal?" "None of your buisness." "Of course it's my bloody buisness," she yelled. Caught him by suprise. "You gave me no choice to let you in and your friend thanks me by bleeding everywhere. If it's so dangerous why can it help your people and why did you sacrifice your men to get it?" He pointed a finger and growled ,"I didn't sacrifice anyone and you don't raise your voice at me." "Then why aren't you dead? This thing of yours," she pointed at it, "is so important to your cause, it must've been well guarded and you used a suicide attack so you could sneak it away." He stood up holding his breath and pushed hard against her chest. her chair leaned back and threw Kiki to the ground. She was winded for a second. She raised herself up to have Jocques force his boot on her to keep her down. All his weigh on her chest. Hard to breath. She saw a handle of a knife in his boot "I sacrificed no man out there," he growled. "They all died for a good cause." Vincient made a noise of a mouse being crushed. Jocques looked round to him. Kiki gripped the handle and yanked. Not coming out. Jocques felt the tug and looked back down. Then raised his foot and stomped on her hard. Now she was windedd and unable to breath. "What did you do?" He accused, grinding his boot on her. Still couldn't breath. "What did you do? While her vision was blured she could she smoke coming from him. He noticed the smell first, looked around to see his sleeve burning and smoking up. Then he saw Mora. "I knew you were lying," he stomped on Kiki one more time then knelt and held Mora by both arms. Mora didn't skip a second due to being so young and not in control and she screamed. Loud. Jocques winced then he felt his face getting hot. He didn't understand. Kiki regained her breath and coughed hard and crawled away as fast as she could. Jocques began to shout as well. Which someone would do when their beard, eye brows and hair on top of their head started to erupt in flames. He let go of her and attempted to put it all out. Mora was still screaming. Kiki got to her feet and went for the door, into the dark and grabbed her axe with both hands and came back. Jocques had failed to put out the fire for now his entire head was a balled of pained screaming flame. Kiki ran towards him, raised the axe above her head and brought it clean down. His screaming stopped. Moras didn't. Jocques collapsed down and the rest of his body caught on fire. Mora was red in the face. Kiki crouched down and held her steaming body tight. It's okay love, love it's ok, mommas' here, she rubbed her back. She couldn't here a thing other than a loud ringing in her ears. She'll deal with that later. Kiki repeated her words over and over until Mora stopped and just cried. Her body was stiff and steaming. Heat and smoke filled the house. They needed to get out now. She lifted up the burning Mora and ran outside into the cold. Kiki trudged through the snow. Mora held on tight with arms around her neck and legs wrapped on her waist. Kiki turned. The house hadn't erupted into flames, but if she didn't go in now for supplies they'd be left with nothing. Mora, she said. Her ears screamed as high pitched as her daughter. Love listen, I have to let you go. She felt her daughters chest vibrate and her body clenching tighter. Babe, I will be right back, I'm going to get your boots and your blanket, then we're going to go for a long walk just you and I, okay love? As tight as Mora held on, Kiki was stronger and released Moras' clasp. She was wailing, her hands together and chewing her fingers through her tears. I'll be right back, She kissed her cheek, I love you and I will be right back. Mora shook her head and moved her mouth. She could not hear her and ran into the house. It became apparent to Kiki that holding her child actually burnt her arms and hands. They were hot read and stang, biting and twisting every second up and down. She shouted when she clenched the door and swung it open. A rush of heat embraced her. Hot skin cold sweat. She was going to be sick. Must concentrate though. Needed whatever she can carry. Kiki grabbed boots coats, she grabbed Vincients satchel (he wasn't going to use it anymore). She then made her way to grab the blanket. A a strong arm from behind wrapped around her neck and tightened. He was saying something so wouldn't of wanted to listen to so she interrupted by digging a nail into the blood spot on the bandage. Vincent fell down crippled. She turned and saw the pale wet mass of confused horror clutching its arm. She kicked it in the nose until she was satisfied then grabbed the blanket. Besides the door lay a burnt pile of rags. Inside was a black hammer. It looked very familiar. Which was the point of it. The hammer was a fake. Kiki knew this because it was the last thing she built. What the men wanted was taken years ago and to stop suspicion her people replaced it. She spat down on it and ran out to Mora. She was met with a hug as soon as she crouched. Hey there I'm back, I'm back, Kiki repeated. She picked out Moras' clothes ad boots and began to dress her. A small hand touched her ear. Kiki looked up to a concerned and confused Mora studying the wet blood on her fingers. She kissed her again and continued dressing the child, their house burnt down. Then monastery Jocques and Vincent stole from would see the smoke and follow it. They'd be there fast. Luckily Kiki was faster.

[sgtnutmeg-blog]

This comic is irrational

[sgtnutmeg-blog]

Hard Reset

After pouring his coffee he looked at his kitchen and decided that he should probably clean it. Maybe best to do all of the apartment, he thought. Kurtis fed his cat Crystel and stripped from his pajamas and pulled up his freshest boxers. He flicked through his music folder on his cell phone and blasted loud punk music through its tiny speakers. There were no new messages but he checked anyway and read his last text from yesterday night:

Sent Kurtis- Yep, see you then.

The drums and yelling drowned out his thoughts. He put the phone on the kitchen counter and started by unloading the sink from dirty cutlery, cups, bowls, pots, pans, and plates. He filled the sink with steaming hot water and purple washing fluid and reloaded the dishes to soak. Kurtis soaked and sponge and scalded his hand in the water. He scrubbed the oven top and cleared up the dried, black pasta and scrubbed spilled tomato sauce. The oven door was specked with grease droplets and he wiped that too. He wiped the counter and collected crumbs, uncooked pasta noodles, a dried up baked-bean and threw it in the garbage.  The water was still hotter than he liked it so he grabbed the broom and swept the laminate floor. Kurtis brought his cell phone by the TV then took the garbage bag and walked into the living room. He cleared the beer cans and crumpled receipts. He threw all the clothes from the floor to the futon and knelt down and pulled out the mostly empty pizza boxes. He searched under to pull out plastic plates, cups at half empty beer cans and one of Toni's ankle socks. Kurtis looked for a second pair and when he didn't find it he walked to his bedroom. While walking down the tight hallway Crystel scurried around his legs. He had left behind his phone and could hear it distorting the silence in his bedroom. Kurtis grabbed the shopping bag filled with Toni's things. He dropped the sock in and caught a glimpse of the Halloween nurse costume she once wore for him. The other day Kurtis had calmly folded and placed it in the bag, convinced of his control. Kurtis now felt his head heat up and he snatched the costume from the bag, tore up the cheap fabric and threw the soft white and red strips to the corner of the room.  Kurtis took off his glasses. Then walked around the apartment opening windows and the balcony door allow cool fresh air into the apartment and locked himself in the washroom. He turned the hot water on in the shower and jets of water shot out of the showerhead. As the mist became thicker, Kurtis grabbed a handful of toilet paper and wiped the toilet bowl of urine spots, hair, and dust. He turned off the shower and wiped the condensation off the mirror and sink. After cleaning the bathtub he left the washroom and was greeted by cool air. The water in the sink was agreeable to his hands so he cleaned the dishes. ______________________________________________________________

Kurtis off the vacuum cleaner and answered his apartment intercom. "Hey," I forgot to throw out the costume. "Hey, downstairs." "I'll buzz you," he pressed the button to unlock the front of the apartment. Kurtis then became mildly panicked the apartment wasn't as clean as he'd wanted. His bed wasn't made, he hadn't cleaned the microwave or the layers of bread crumbs under the toaster. The garbage was full. His coffee was cold, he was hungry, and his boxers weren't fresh. With that, he took off his boxers and put on a clean pair of sweatpants and a not as clean hoodie. There was a knock on his door and he answered it. He forgot how tall he was compared to her. "Hey." "Hi," Toni stepped in and took off her shoes. "Sorry, was cleaning." "Yeah, looks good," she stepped into the living room. "How are you?" Kurtis asked while he walked around and closed the windows and balcony door. "I'm alright," she stated, "You?" "Doing okay." He walked to the bedroom. Toni crossed her arms from cold and walked up to the vacuum cleaner. She heard a bell jingle and looked down at the futon. Crystal's brown eyes looked up at her. She squatted down and held out her knuckle towards the cat. She smiled and said "hey," in a high pitched voice. Crystal hummed threateningly and hissed, flaring her curved incisors. Toni stopped smiling and stood back up. Kurtis returned with the shopping bag. "She still doesn't like me," Toni said. Kurtis shrugged, "she doesn't like anyone. She's been giving Shawn a hard time." "Shawn's moved in?" "Like a week ago, he sleeps on the futon. Crystel likes hiding under it every morning to hiss at him and gallop away." "That's an asshole move." "Guarding its territory I suppose." "So being an asshole is more of a byproduct?" Kurtis didn't laugh and held up the shopping bag. Toni took it and checked inside. "I found one of your socks but couldn't find the second one." "All good," she looked up then away from Kurtis, " I was... yeah all good." There was a second of silence. They breathed in the void between them and waited for the other to speak first. "I'm going..." Toni muttered and turned to the door. "I need to clean," Kurtis put his hands in his pockets and took them out. Midway out the door, there was a muted "bye" before she closed it. Kurtis sighed deeply and went into the kitchen. He looked at the toaster and the bread crumbs surrounding it. "It's fine," he declared and sat down to play video games.

[sgtnutmeg-blog]

Irrational Fear of Sun Flowers

“You’ll get to see it look towards the sun with its big yellow head.It’ll face East as it rises and will twist and follow the sun set in the West. Have patience and you’ll see natures wonders.”

During late March when I was six years old, I planted a sunflower seed in the garden. Next to the backyard door, against the brick wall of my home. The perfect spot for it to grow. It would stand tall and beautiful in the light of the Sun. I was as patient as all six year olds are; every morning I checked outside the door and expect to be greeted by a towering plant. All I saw was the pile of dirt I made.  A week went by with disappointment.

It was late evening, I was collecting my toys from the grass to go inside. Next to the door, I spotted a small, green stalk curling out of the dirt. Two leafs coming form the top, two more smaller ones growing from the center. Looked more like a weed than anything I learned.

I watched it grow more leafs over the next few days. Bigger, thicker, greener than the days previous. The stalk grew taller as well, rising higher and higher; producing more leafs from the top, faster and more congested. I never really noticed how the older ones wilted, become thin and brown then died. I marveled at how it was my height one morning; it greeted me at eye level. Sometimes I saw it twitching; I could watch it grow ever so carefully

Then one morning I looked up high and saw its leafs turn into yellow petals and by evening curl out to reveal a great face of seeds. I saw them uncoil around the edges, closing in on the center. It resembled a cartoon yellow eyeball with a green pupil. An eye that stood as a monolith, watching the sun. Absorbing its heat and energy.

I then I saw its' petals wither, its great leafs turn sickly brown and die. I saw its stalk weaken, starting to collapse under the weight of its eye. I looked up one grey day and saw it glaring over me. Its eye had grown too large too heavy and was looking at the ground were I was. Maybe its trying to absorb energy from me, I thought. I saw dozens of small seeds hard and brown watching me. Reminded me of a close up picture of a fly. Birds would peck them out hungrily at noon. Gone by evening. Its face was a world of craters that once held the seeds. It was drying up and gasping for life.. The next morning I saw it had toppled over in the night. The stalk bent over, petals scattered around its head and by my feet. I threw it away before evening.

[sgtnutmeg-blog]

Floating Heads

They came from the sky and couldn't be destroyed: that's all Patrick knew because that's all that anyone knew about them. He sipped his bitter coffee and looked out the window and checked the weather outside. The roads were dry but the clouds were dark, promising rain for later. He looked at the figures floating above, lazily bobbling west so there was going to be a slight wind chill. Patrick rinsed out his coffee cup and grabbed the shopping list then knocked on his Mums' bedroom door. She'd been in there for 7 months. He hadn't seen her for that long either. "Hey Mum. Going out...: A muted reply came from the door "... Okay hun..." He left the house with an umbrella and shopping bags. ______________________________________________________________

Patrick first heard about them a year and a half ago. He was eating sandwiches his Mum made, watching game-play videos on his laptop while supposedly job searching. He looked at his news feed and saw a link with a strange title:

Floating Heads Spotted

He ignored it, passing it off as one of the many click bait links on his feed. Choosing instead to look at a picture of a model posing as a pin-up girl. Then diverted his attention to a news link concerning gene therapy that treats muscle-wasting disease in dogs. While scrolling through the article, among the advertisements, next to a link describing what he missed in the new comic book movie, was a familiar title:

Alien Heads Floating Above School

He forgot what he was reading and clicked the link. On the paused video he saw exactly what the title read. A human head, the size of a car, floating above a school. It had no neck, its' skin rounded out below the neck; but a long rope of skin hung from it, around 7 feet in length and at the end it looped back up. Like a noose. Patrick played the video. The news reporter talked, he didn't listen, instead skipping down the timeline until it showed the footage. Shaky camera, from a phone, lots of muted yelling, teachers guiding groups of children away from the school quickly and police officers setting up fences around the building. Away from the idle floating head. Patrick looked at its' face and white veiny eyes. Its' hair was cut short, a light colored healed scar on its' chin. But the expression and the way it moved its' face. It was laughing silently and moving its' lips. As if it was talking to an imaginary person. As if it was unaware of where it was. Patrick checked the comment section. People were arguing about how Hollywood was running out of ideas. People praising how creative the viral marketing was, while adding other links to more videos of heads floating around towns. Patrick clicked on one of them. Men in high visibility vest throwing rocks at a floating head. They cheered when a rock landed in its mouth. The head didn't take any notice. This time its' face looked as if it was chewing food, even looked bored. The comment section contained jokes and confusion. Patrick took his plate littered with bread crumbs and tuna and took it to the kitchen. He looked across the street and saw a floating head. He froze. Held onto his plate. He watched. It was floating low, bumping against the house across the street. Long blond hair flowing from the back of its head. Patrick only recognized whose hair it reminded him of when the woman who owned the house stepped outside to confront the head. The head turned to meet her with the exact same expression of shock and horror the woman had. It dived down towards her, her scream was cut off as soon as the heads noose wrapped and tightened around her neck and it shot upwards. Her legs kick, fingers clawing to get under the fleshy noose. Patrick watched them go higher and higher. The heads' face  twisted and the mouth was as wide as it could go. White eyes wide open. Then the body stopped flailing and the face stopped. It floated away with the wind. Patrick laughed and clasped his mouth to stop.

______________________________________________________________

Months went by with Patrick and a lot of other people doing the same thing. Barricaded in their homes and arguing on the internet. Any news coverage not talking about the Heads were ignored and forgotten. Countless videos with differing explanations on how the Heads worked, their purpose, how to avoid them, how to fight them back. Videos of authorities trying to catch them. No one tried attacking them anymore. Axes, guns, bricks, arrows, hair spray, missiles, pepper spray, sticks had no affect on them. Not even a scratch. They never ate or drank or even breathed. They all now wore an anxious expression. Worried. Patrick never saw them cry anymore. There used to be video channels of people finding heads with their face and happily running away, playing chase, or filming themselves inside their house with the head outside the window. 'Hanging out with my buddy' as one of the internet personalities would say. Those got popular fast but a lot of the channels stopped producing videos due to the person getting caught, committing suicide, getting bored of the joke or taking the situation seriously. Whenever Patrick looked outside, more heads would be bumping against their owners homes. His Mum's head had found their house. She'd only open the door at night, to collect food Patrick left  for her. Returning a dirty plate from the previous meal. Patrick had given up on persuading her to come out. He only saw her face when he looked out of the window now. ______________________________________________________________

Patrick walked out of the empty dollar store with the shopping bags full of cans. The heads floated above with tiny bodies hanging below them. After seeing his high-school teacher in the sky, he found it easy to continue his life. They didn't bother him as much. He used to worry about his own head finding him but now he tried not to let that bother him. He knew he'd deal with it the only way he could when that happens. He loaded his car with the bags and started driving home. It started to snow. He looked up at the floated hordes of motionless bodies in the sky. Hundreds, if not thousands floating by every day. He felt strangely alone, left out of the group. Like being picked last in gym class. He turned on the window wipers and drove home.

[sgtnutmeg-blog]

A Feast For Pigs #D2

Something warm and soft was stroking Harry's face and eyes and it woke him. He heard rain land on his clothes; they were soaked, freezing and clung tight to his skin. His lips were chapped and teeth slimy from plaque, throat dry. He heard something sniffing above him and it felt the warm breath. Harry opened his eyes and saw a figure over top of him, out of focus; too close.

In shock he screamed, it yelped. It hurried away while he stumbled to his feet and started to run. He lost balance and slipped head first into a rock. His forehead was slashed and he felt an icy, numb pain over come him. His stomach tightened, his throat clenched and he vomited a yellow pulp. Harry spat and wiped the residue from his lips. He found himself leaning against a tree while nursing his forehead.

Harry couldn’t see far. Everything was grey, not because of his vision but because of the thick fog surrounding, it rained lightly. Dark, tall figures of trees could be made out at the fifteen meters away but not much else. Then he saw the panda staring at him from behind a bush.

“Oh fuck off,” Harry growled and slogged a handful of mud at it. The panda ran away briefly and looked back when the danger was over.

Harry checked his pockets. Found a ball of wet paper that he used to wipe his bloody head and a gold coin. He returned the coin and tossed the paper. Harry carefully got to his feet; felt his thighs stretch and spine crack. Harry breathed in deep and called, “Hello!” No response. Harry looked around called again in confusion. Not even the panda made a noise. He sighed, chose a direction and started walking in it.

“Hello?”

Harry’s heels rubbed in his shoes creating blisters that would be destined to burst. His pants were soaked and his underpants rose up into his crotch. His head throbbed, his mouth tasted of stomach acid, the panda was following him and he had no idea who he was. He couldn’t remember anything. He had no bearings of where he was. The trees were evergreens and that’s all he knew. Which only brought up more questions due to the panda.

He then stopped in his tracks and looked at the ground in confusion. Harry squatted down and inspected the two, parallel trenches in the ground; shallow and about a meter and a half apart. There were zig-zagging grooves at the bottom. He knew what it meant he just didn’t understand the why.

Harry looked at the panda. It was sniffing the tracks and was following the tracks. Harry followed and in time he found a car. It had crashed into a thickset tree. The front was caved in. The body had been lifted and held up by logs; someone had stolen the tires. Harry opened the rusted door and inspected inside. Everything had been ripped out and taken. He turned back to the panda, “Know anyone who needs spare parts?” The panda looked up with black watery eyes. Harry grunted and looked up and around the forested area.

“Hello?” He called again. He checked his forehead for bleeding.

A wail; a monstrous squeal echoed from the fog. Harry froze. It wasn’t far away. He heard the panda running away; it was faster than it looked and it disappeared in the grey. Harry briefly stumbled and sprinted after it. There was another squeal in response to the first one. More than one. In front of him was a rustle of leafs and the pandas’ yepling0.

Harry found the panda hanging leg first from a rope on a tree. It was thrashing violently, panicking and screeching loudly. Harry held his hands out but didn’t get close to avoid being attacked.

“Shut the fuck up you stupid shit,” Harry hissed. The ground was shaking. A heavy gallop approached. Harry clenched his teeth and stared wide eyed at the panda. He then ran without looking back.

______________________________________________________________

Harry opened the door without knocking. The rusting hinges creaked and he entered. Floorboards had been pulled up, white fluff bled out of slashed cushions on the couch, holes in the dry wall: Harry tried not to think about who once lived here. He walked into the bedroom. An entire wall had been ripped apart, Harry could see the beach and the sea. On the ground was a mattress. It had been ripped to shreds and stained with black dried blood. Harry held his breath and looked towards the beach. He saw a dock and walked towards it.

There was a little boy sitting on the edge of the splintered dock. The boy was bent over a notebook and drawing with a crayon. Harry sat next to him and asked, “Where are we?” “I don’t know, I’m lost,” the boy muttered without looking up. “How’d you get here?” “I saw the dock from the house. Figured a boat might show up eventually.” Harry nodded and didn’t say anything. The boy held his notebook to him. Harry looked at it and said, “It’s just grey crayon scribbles.” “I tried drawing the view,” the boy sighed, “that’s all I could see.” There was a horn blown in the fog. The boy and Harry watched a steel fishing ship bobbling side to side come towards the dock. A man wearing a yellow rain coat, hood up was on board. When the boat was close enough he threw a rope onto the dock and tied off. The boy walked up to him, notebook in hand.

“Hello,” he said. The boatman raised his head and smiled behind his beard, “Why hello there, what’s your name?” “Thomas.” “Thomas,” the boatman played with his name, muttering it over and over as if to imprint it in his memory. “Where you from Thomas?” “Toronto…” “Thomas of Toronto. It appears you are quite lost, is that right?” Thomas nodded nervously and started crying. The boatman turned his head and studied the boy as he listened, “I can’t find my parents…” “Can’t find your parents,” the boatman repeated slowly, “why do you cry for things you don’t remember lad?” Thomas looked up and couldn’t answer. “Do you have a coin lad?” smiled the boatman. Harry bit the inside of his cheek. “No,” Thomas said, “Do I need one?” “Does he need one,” the boatman repeated to himself and chuckled deeply. He leaned down and clutched Thomas’s shoulder and smiled, “It is very important you get one.” “Where can I get one?” “They’re out there. Yes they are out there,” the boatman reassured, “You are full of energy and eager to look.”

Thomas dropped his notebook and walked back to the beach. Harry watched him go and turned back to the boatman. “Why didn’t you let him on?” “I’ve let boys with coins on,” the boatman shrugged, “wouldn't be fair if I let everyone on.” “It’s dangerous out there.” “Well it’s a good thing you have a coin to give, isn’t it?” the boatman pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Harry took out his coin and handed it over, “where are you heading?” “Away from here,” the boatman studied the coin, “details don’t matter.” “I don’t know where ‘here’ is…” “That’s why it doesn’t matter,” said the boatman. He placed the coin in his mouth and swallowed it. He turned to the boat and untied it. “You coming along?” Harry heard a squeal and got onto the boat, “What are they?” “Not sure,” grey plumes of smoke curled out the boatman’s mouth, “never waited long enough to find out.

[sgtnutmeg-blog]

[sgtnutmeg-blog]

via

[sgtnutmeg-blog]

In the Service of Customers

Five minutes til closing at the Lucky Leprechaun Superstore. Samuel Sanders, stood by his cash register; still like stone, watching the exploits of the final customer in the store. Lily Chambers, age forty-six, unemployed, wore a stretched red cardigan. She stood in front of the potato chip isle; a sale was going on, buy one bag for $1.67, get another half price. She held one bag, salt and vinegar, in her hand while staring at the wall of colorful, crinkly wrapping. Tough choices to make at this time of night. A green shopping basket hung from her other arm. A ginger Leprechaun logo smiled at Samuel. Inside the basket: BeeBee-Extra-Skin-Care-Moisturizer, $29.97, Betty-Crock-Pot, $66.58, two bags of whole wheat bread, $1.48 each and mint flavored floss, $3.41. Lily held the potato chip bag in front of her mouth and coughed. Phlegm stuck onto it, she noticed and stuffed the bag onto the shelf. Samuel watched without flinching, made a mental note. Lily picked up a bag of sour-cream-and-onion potato chips and dropped it in her basket. She chose another salt and pepper. Then picked a jar of dipping sauce, $2.35 but then stopped. She bit the inside of her cheek. Samuel held his breath. The planet spun on its axis at 1673.7 km/s. She put the jar back down. Samuel continued breathing as normal. Closing time. Lily unloaded her basket onto Samuel's til. He ran each item through, the beeping pierced through his ears. While bagging, he looked up and saw Lily watching him through her glasses. Her upper lip was raised. Shiny, wet, yellow teeth were revealed. “That will be $110.59,” he said. She didn’t respond. Lily held up her debit card lazily. While Samuel handed the debit machine, he spotted his manager casually strolling within earshot. His manager casually straightened out tins of Living-Large-Baked-Beans, $1.05 each. ‘Transaction canceled, insufficient funds’ beeped the machine. Lily held it towards Samuel accusingly. “It’s not working, something’s wrong.” Samuel resisted clenching his fists and set up the debit machine again. Lily inserted her card and pressed the buttons. She eyed Samuel. ‘Transaction canceled, insufficient funds’ beeped the machine. “It’s not working.” “Do you have another card?” “What do you mean?” she held her purse. “Do you have an alternative way of paying?” “My card is fine. Try again.” Samuel swallowed, the manager edged his way closer. “I don’t think that will work...” “My card is fine, I checked before coming here.” “It does say insufficient funds.” “Try it again.” Sweat crawled down Samuel’s spine. He reset the debit machine, she entered her pin. The manager was on his knees, inspecting lower shelves. ‘Transaction canceled, insufficient funds’ beeped the machine. Lily reached for the bags, “Why don’t I just come back tomorrow to pay...” “I can’t let you do that.” She gasped, “I am a valued customer.” Samuel nearly heaved, “It’s part of the stores policy...” “I need these items.” He looked from the floss to her teeth. “Do you have a smart phone?” “What?” she took a step back, “Why?” “You can check your account,” Samuel said, “and if it’s low, you can move money over so you can make your purchase.” “What are you saying?” “You can buy your items if you use your smart phone.” “Not everyone has a smart phone.” “Then you’ll have to come back tomorrow for your purchase,” he snapped. Samuel saw his manager freeze and tilt his head towards him. Lily Chambers mouth opened more. Teeth glistening. She went into her purse and pulled out her phone. “So unnecessary...” she huffed. Her index finger poked at the screen. Samuel then noticed her hesitate while looking at the screen. She pursed her lips and exhaled through her nose heavily. Lily put her phone away and looked at Samuel.  He asked, “Everything sorted out?” “Fuck the cunt that bore you. Set up the debit machine,” she stared into his eyes. Samuel quietly reset the machine and handed it over. She typed her pin. ‘Transaction complete, have a good day!’ beeped the machine. Lily snatched the bags and strutted out of the store. Samuel breathed deeply and rubbed the back of his neck. He dug his nails into his skin and scratched. His manager had walked away. A conversation to be had in the morning.

[sgtnutmeg-blog]

Scalp Art

“Clark, who led last year’s expedition to the Afar region of northern Ethiopia, and UC Berkeley colleague Tim D. White, also said that a re-examination of a 300,000-year-old fossil skull found in the same region earlier showed evidence of having been scalped.” The Yuma Daily Sun June 13, 1982 ______________________________________________________________ Elena left the room hot blooded and nauseous; she bent forward and held onto knees to support herself. She backed up against the wall for balance. She wasting going to puke. Just getting over the shock and adrenaline. She’d heard all the rumors, stories, pictures even with Anthony Glade smiling proudly and giving interviews. She knew all about the room. Except the feeling. The casual atmosphere the room held, she felt too natural being in there. Her skin crawled and her scalp itched. “Need a chair? Water?” “No,” Elena sighed out, “just need a minute.” Phillip walked over and leaned against the wall with her. With hands in his pockets he waited for Elena to recover. Still bent over she asked, “Is everyone like this when they first go in there?” “There’s always the initial shock, hence why there’s benches and trash cans out here.” Elena looked up. She was in such a rush to get out she forgot about sitting down.  Philip continued: “Visitors seem to get used to it though. Usually on their second visit they look without blinking, or start joking and laughing.” Elena asked, “So you’re used to it?” Phillip laughed and itched his jaw, “You know, after months of working here, doesn’t faze me a single bit.” “But an entire wall...” “That,” Phillip pointed out, “Is Anthony Glades’ collection, all gathered by him personally. We have hallways of them the museum collected over time.” She looked up at him, “Hallways?” “Yes and I walked down them everyday,” he smiled. There was little irony to his smile.  Elena stood up straight with a groan. She gave herself a second then said, “Thank you for sneaking me in. Means a lot Phillip.” “Not a problem,” he smiled. “Want to see the rest of the exhibit?” Elena gave him a look and he held his hand up, “the moderately less horrific stuff.” “You mean the tattoos...”  “You survived the Wall of Scalps, the tattoos are fascinating when given the appropriate context,” Phillip began leading Elena to the East wing of the Museum. “What’s context am I supposed to have?” “Give it a chance, I want to hear your unbiased perspective.” They entered a new room. Elenas’ breath was shallow while looking at each piece, as if she didn’t want to disturb the hides on display. That’s all she could see. Not the ink or the colors. It was all skin that was removed decades before.  “I don’t like this game you’re playing,” she finally said. “What game?” “Your ‘context’ game,” she crossed her arms. She regretted not wearing a coat. her arms felt exposed. “You’re showing me this for shock value at best.” Phillip didn’t say anything, simply looked at the floor in contemplation then back up to her, slight smile on his face. “After the East side of the Rockies was wiped out by the nuclear fall out, there was semblance of old world civilization on this side. People holding onto the what they remember. But then of course, there are the tribes that were formed by the Great Khan of New California.” “And that’s where your Glade friend and his band of psychos’ come it...” she knew her history. The triumphant unification of the West Rockies was a popular subject in schools. Phillip waved his hand, “You’re looking at all this as a whole. Take yourself out of the equation and give me a chance to explain.” Elena looked at one of the hides. Tattooed on it was a horse leaping over a fence, “Go on.” Phillip nodded and continued, “When all structure of guaranteed survival falls apart, people have a hard time to coping. And other people,” he held up his hands; presenting the museum, “find ways to survive.” “By pure savagery?” He pretended not to hear her. “The war parties were formed because there weren’t enough resources for everyone. Groups of people who wanted to survive so they formed together and did just that. Anthony Glade was one of those people. He performed ‘savage’ acts but was not a savage.” Elena looked at all the hides and said, “So none of those scalps in the other room was evidence of savagery right?” “That is savagery, those bands where paid by scalp. In here though,what this museum represents, is the way Anthony held on to his humanity.” Elena didn’t know what to say, Phillip continued, “As his story goes, while walking through a recently raided.town, Anthony came across a companion looting clothes off a corpse. Anthony saw that the corpse had markings. He didn’t want the flesh to go to waste, so he skinned it off, and did so with every marked corpse on ward.” “Am I supposed to be thankful?” ”What other form of art has survived?” Phillips voice was raise, he was walking towards her now. “There’s nothing, no body cares what ‘art’ means, it’s all survival. No evidence of our humanity, except all of this.” He looked round in wonder. “All of this saved, because of one man, knowing or not, had humanity left and wanted to preserve it.” “So you don’t think Anthony was more twisted than his companions and that’s why this museum exists. More of a trophy room than the last gasp of humanity?” Phillip shrugged and his tone changed. Maybe he’d given up explaining. “That’s a probability. Maybe I’m the one over thinking it because I work here all day. But you know what, I’m glad this exists, because all this history here formed the life we live freely in now.” Elena nodded and unfolded her arms, “all we have left...” “Exactly,” he smiled. “Want to see my favorite room?” She shrugged and walked with him, “Do I need a context with this one?” “It speaks for itself,” he opened a door and held it for Elena.  It was a pyramid, from base to ceiling, made of yellow skulls. Of human, of deer, bison, birds, wolfs and more that Elena couldn’t make out. She was speechless. In retrospect she was thankful she made the trip to see such sights

[sgtnutmeg-blog]

Short Story #5

A nuclear scientist named Phillip was holding a birthday party for his son, Shawn, who was mentally handicapped. They sat side by side in the center of the living room. The colorful presents surrounded them, while the guests were sat on the coaches. Drinking, eating and smiling. Toys were opened, a sweater with a monkey sewn was unraveled. Shawn laughed and gurgled when he unwrapped DVD’s of his favorite movies and didn’t give much attention to his new bike.Phillip picked up the last present. It was small, shiny and black. Phillip helped Shawn unwrap it to reveal a plain cardboard box. Shawn opened it up. Phillip saw what was inside and snatched the box from his sons’ hands.  The guests froze and watched silently. The father picked up the thing in the box and felt the eight. He looked at his guests. “What kind of madman gives a loaded gun to an idiot?”

[sgtnutmeg-blog]

A Feast For Pigs

Something warm and soft was stroking his face and had woke him. Then Harry felt the cold water that was seeping into his clothes and the mud between his fingers. His lips were chapped and teeth slimy from plaque; his dry tongue tasted the inside of his mouth. He heard something sniffing above him. Harry opened his eyes and saw a blurry figure over top of him; too close. In shock he screamed, it yelped. It hurried away while he stumbled to his feet and started running. He lost balance and slipped head first into a rock. His forehead was slashed and he felt an icy, numb pain over come him. His stomach tightened, his throat clenched and he vomited a yellow pulp. Harry spat and wiped the residue from his lips. He found himself leaning against a tree while nursing his forehead.  Harry couldn’t see far. Everything was grey, not because of his vision but because of the thick fog surrounding. Dark, tall figures of trees could be made out at the fifteen meters away but not much else. Then he saw the panda staring at him from behind a bush. “Oh fuck off,” Harry growled and slogged a handful of mud at it. The panda ran away briefly and looked back when the danger was over.  Harry checked his pockets. Found a ball of wet paper that he used to wipe his bloody head and a gold coin. He returned the coin and tossed the paper. Harry carefully got to his feet; felt his thighs stretch and spine crack. Harry breathed in deep and called. “Hello!” No response. Harry called again in confusion. Not even the panda responded. He sighed, chose a direction and started walking in it. “Hello?” Harry’s heels rubbed in his shoes creating blisters that would be destined to burst. His pants were soaked and his underpants rose up into his crotch and up his ass. His head throbbed, his mouth tasted of stomach acid, the panda was following him and he had no idea who he was. He couldn’t remember anything. He had no bearings of where he was. The trees were evergreens and that’s all he knew. Which only brought up more questions due to the panda. He then stopped in his tracks and looked at the ground in confusion. Harry squatted down and inspected the two, parallel trenches in the ground; shallow and about a meter and a half apart. There were zig-zagging grooves at the bottom. He knew what it meant he just didn’t understand the why. Harry looked at the panda. It was sniffing the tracks and was following the tracks. Harry followed and within  ten minutes he found the car. It had crashed into a thickset tree. The front was caved in. Harry inspected it and fount that just about everything, including its’ tires had been taken. “Know anyone who needs spare parts?” Harry asked sarcastically. The panda looked up with black watery eyes. Harry looked up and around. “Hello?” He called again. A wail; a monstrous squeal echoed from the fog. Harry froze. It wasn’t far away. He heard the panda running away; it was faster than it looked. Harry briefly stumbled and sprinted after it. There was another squeal in response to the first one. More than one. In front of him was a rustle of leafs and the pandas’ yelling.  Harry found the panda hanging leg first from a rope on a tree. It was thrashing violently, panicking and screeching loudly. Harry held his hands out but didn’t get close to avoid being attacked. “Shut the fuck up you stupid shit,” Harry hissed. The ground was shaking. A heavy gallop approached. Harry clenched his teeth and stared wide eyed at the panda. He then ran without looking back. ______________________________________________________________ Harry opened the door without knocking. The rusting hinges creaked and he entered. Floorboards had been pulled up, white fluff bled out of slashed cushions on the couch, holes in the dry wall: Harry tried not to think about who once lived here. He walked into the bedroom. An entire wall had been ripped apart, Harry could see the beach and the sea. On the ground was a mattress. It had been ripped to shreds and stained with dried blood. Harry held his breath and looked towards the beach. He saw a dock and immediately walked towards it. There was a little boy sitting on the edge of the splintered dock. The boy was bent over a notebook and drawing with a crayon. Harry sat next to him and asked, “Where are we?” “I don’t know, I’m lost,” the boy muttered without looking up. “How’d you get here?” “I saw the dock from the house. Figured a boat might show up eventually.” Harry nodded and didn’t say anything. The boy held his notebook to him. Harry looked at it and said, “It’s just grey crayon scribbles.” “I tried drawing the view,” the boy sighed, “that’s all I could see.” There was a horn blown in the grey fog. The boy and Harry watched a steel fishing ship bobbling side to side come towards the dock. A man wearing a yellow rain coat, hood up was on board. When the boat was close enough he threw a rope onto the dock and tied off. The boy walked up to him, notebook in hand. “Hello,” he said. The boatman raised his head and smiled behind his beard, “Why hello there, what’s your name?” “Thomas.” “Thomas,” the boatman played with his name, muttering it over and over as if to imprint it in his memory. “Where you from Thomas?” “Toronto...” “Thomas of Toronto. It appears you are quite lost, is that right?” Thomas nodded nervously and started crying. The boatman turned his head and studied the boy as he listened, “I can’t find my parents...” “Can’t find your parents,” the boatman repeated slowly, “why do you cry for things you don’t remember lad?” Thomas looked up and couldn’t say anything. “Do you have a coin lad?” smiled the boatman. Harry bit the inside of his cheek. “No,” Thomas said, “Do I need one?” “Does he need one,” the boatman repeated to himself and chuckled deeply. He leaned down and clutched Thomas’s shoulder and smiled, “It is very important you get one.” “Where can I get one?” “They’re out there. Yes they are out there,” the boatman reassured, “You are full of energy and eager to look.” Thomas dropped his notebook and walked back to the beach. Harry watched him go and turned back to the boatman. “Why didn’t you let him on?” “I’ve let boys with coins on,” the boatman shrugged, “I have a job and I intend to do it.” “It’s dangerous out there.” “Well it’s a good thing you have a coin to give, isn’t it?” the boatman pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Harry took out his coin and handed it over, “where are you heading?” “Away from here,” the boatman studied the coin, “details don’t matter.” “I don’t know where ‘here’ is...” “That’s why it doesn’t matter,” said the boatman. He placed the coin in his mouth and swallowed it. He turned to the boat and untied it. “You coming along?” Harry heard a squeal and got onto the boat, “What are they?” “Not sure,” grey plumes of smoke curled out the boatman's mouth, “never waited long enough to find out.

[sgtnutmeg-blog]

The Nightmare of Barlow

His horse had died from cold miles behind so the Knight scaled the mountain alone. Barlow’s Keep stood carved into the mountains side, hidden under snow. The Knight walked through the gate and between its’ stone sentinels. Etched above the gate was a great serpent shaped in a loop, biting its own tail. The courtyard was a tomb. Inside harbored hundreds of mummified corpses, still and lost in time.

A wail echoed from deep within the catacombs. The halls shook, the knight stood his ground. His hand caressed his rapiers handle. Frozen breath curled from his helmet in slow controlled bursts. He had to time it just right, he cannot fail. The Shadow of Barlow revealed itself. Two purple piercing eyes floating in a cloak of darkness. So dark it seemed to twist and eat what little light there was. It wailed and pounced towards the Knight. The cosmic horror approached. Eyes getting closer, focused on him with hate.

The Knight readied himself. He drew his sword and slashed out the eyes. A shriek, the shadow retreated, blind and injured. The Knight saw his only chance. He charged, now was the time, he will be free of the Nightmare, he will escape with her. The shadow split itself in two. It revealed a light so powerful and white. The Knight screamed as the light caressed him and invaded his mind. It grabbed and consumed him. It tore him apart and reassembled him to a familiar place.

It was summer again. All previous emotions felt by the Knight were replaced. Happy, loved, wanted, at peace with himself. When he awoke in the garden he was laughing. He had turned to see a woman. Maybe his wife to be. They smiled at each other. Always the same. He once knew her name.

How many times has he been here before?

A sudden storm, powerful energy cracked and burnt the air. It was only now the Knight remembered the unstoppable events. Barlow’s shadow knocked him down and grabbed the woman. They evaporated into vapor before the Knight could get back up. He roared in rage. Humiliated by his state of constant defeat. He went directly to the stable owned by the Barkeep, waited for night and stole the horse that won’t survive to the end. He stayed off the Kings’ Road, dodging the law with little effort. He remembered were they were stationed. He found and waited by the Witches hut. In time she turned up, they both entered the hut. 

She spoke,  “Night of your birth, how the world wept. I looked for holes in the heavens. Today it no longer cares for you.”

The Knight did not respond. His hand rested on the swords pommel.

“You live in a loop you can’t escape.”

“I know,” he responded.

“Knowledge of a fool,” she laughed, “I have no need for it. Go, you are not wanted.”

“Where else would I go? We are owned by the Nightmare, keep me for the night at least.”

The Witch looked at the armor worn by an empty pain. “Your memory must be weak.”

“It hardly exists,” the Knight spat. “I’ve lost her name, the love I had has been replaced by a deep rage for her. She is why I chase the shadow endlessly.”

“If your quest is meaningless, why continue?” “All I have left is my hate for her, why would I willingly give it up?”

[sgtnutmeg-blog]

Prioritize

On the News channel, great steel tanks rolled through the bombed ruins of a war torn city. Humvee's drove behind carrying soldiers with rifles, bayonets, and fists, nails and teeth. They waved at news cameras to the folks at home. Hoping to be seen by friends, family, patriots or just the regular working Joe. 

Brandon Lynch wasn’t watching TV because he was late for college. The night before he had forgotten he wasn’t supposed to get high and got high and slept in. Now he was late for his first day in college. He threw on shorts, his hoodie, then slung on his backpack and grabbed change for the bus. He ran down stairs, cursing himself for being late for college. His mother sat at the table, looking at bills and estimating the months they had left in their house. The unemployed father slurped the leftover milk from his cereal. He watched a re-run of The Simpsons on the TV.

Brandon Lynch didn’t say bye because he was late for school. He ran to the bus stop and stood in the lineup. Dusty construction workers smoked carelessly to the side. Elderly stood near and quietly complained to themselves about the smoking. Brandon checked and rechecked the time. He paced and cursed in frustration. Why did he get high last night? He wasn’t going to, but did anyway. Now he was late for his first day of college.

The bus crawled up, its worn down breaks screamed then the machine stopped. A crusty bearded man asked, “What took ya?” “Traffic jams and delays that speak in inches to an important protest downtown.”

“What kind of protest?”

“The important kind.”

Brandon payed for his ticket and sat among quiet Asians in business suits. He calmed his thoughts and imagined what class would be like. Will his classmates be jocks and goths? Maybe techies and cheerleaders? He thought about the girls and fantasized about potential girlfriends who were blondes with big butts and lavish breasts. His mother crawled into his thoughts and started to hiss; “Just like your father, thinking of filth and becoming filth.” He felt a tinge of guilt in his stomach; so he thought of young women and their child bearing hips with good brains to listen to.

The bus came to a stop and the Asian business men yelled and complained.

“The road is blocked. Police have fenced it off for a parade.”

Brandon Lynch could not wait because he was late for college. He jumped off the bus and ran through spectators with camera phones and police armed with batons and shields. Into the street he went. Humanoid animal people marched in hundreds. The costumes that were furry and colored like rainbows. They marched hand in hand or carrying signs reading, “This is important!” Many lined up to be drenched sacrificially in black goo. The bucket that was tipped was labeled “Blood of the Earth.” A gunshot exploded in the street and the crowds screamed. Alarms and sirens were raised as the animal people that wore smiles and big eyes ran in terror. Police ordered them to “Halt!” The animal people did not listen so batons were raised and the police charged into the fray.

Brandon Lynch dodged the chaos and ran because he was late for college. He ran from the carnage and ran into campus. He consulted the maps and the door numbers through the labyrinth halls.He opened the classroom door and sat down at a desk. Five minutes to spare. First one in. He smiled his smile, proud to have his priorities straight..

[sgtnutmeg-blog]