Vivika Widow's Blog, page 45

Well, hello Coldford!

Things are flying high in the Shady City as we proudly announce that volume 2 of hit thriller graphic novel series Knock, Knock is now in production!

Coming this August. Prepare for a raucous summer as the fight spills onto the street. Things in the Shady City are about to come crashing down.

I could not be more excited!

A huge thank you to everyone joined us at the club for volume 1. Mark August in your diaries folks because Sam’s story is far from finished. As a matter of fact, it’s only just the beginning.

You can’t keep a good girl down. Some bitches will use their well manicured nails to claw out of just about any scrape. Our Knock, Knock boss lady is one of the scrappiest.

With the old characters returning and plenty of new ones, things are bound to get messy.

Knock, Knock Volume 1 free to read HERE on Vivika Widow Online so come join us at the club for what is sure to be a memorable night.

Harbour House

Featured in: Knock, Knock

Muse

Located in the Chamberlain Docks area of Swanton in the south of the city, Harbour House Clinic is a stand out feature in the area. With a beautiful expanse of gardens to one side and the main port to the Hathfield Bay islands on the other, Harbour House is the perfect place for recovery.

At Harbour House the residents can enjoy peace and serenity. Most of them are survivors or trauma or recovering from surgery.

Some of the residents are once pillars of the community who have grown tired. At Harbour House they will find the motivation they need.

Longer term residents of Harbour House require special care. The caring and committed staff are all too happy to provide.

Despite having the best psychiatric nurses and doctors on staff, CEO Dr G Winslow states that it is not an institute but a rehabilitation clinic.

David Finn’s route to recovery leads him to Harbour House. His latest MUSE is drawing him closer but can he discover the truth of his childhood trauma before it’s too late?

Click HERE to read the full story.

Lust and Love

There is the part of us that we put to the public.

There is the part of us we reserve for more intimate circles.

There is the part of us that we see reflected in the mirror.

Some days it looks good. Some days it looks rough.

Mirrors don’t reflect the most important part.

There is that part of us that we refuse to believe exists.

There is that part of us that no one would like to meet.

There is that part of us that we would struggle to look at.

Inside us is the part that wrestles with our better nature.

It is the selfish, angry part of us that reminds us we are still animals.

It is the difference between lust and love.

David’s latest MUSE helps him address his past mistakes by bringing that part to the surface.

The mirrors don’t reflect anymore so the art becomes all too real.

Click HERE to read the full story.

This Child Bugs Me

“It’s a challenging piece,” agreed Gabrielle, half owner of the Ritter Lane gallery as the canvas was laid against the wall. “It’s difficult to look at but it’s also hard to look away. The mother figure is all consuming. The baby figure is pale and almost serene.”

Mr Dell picked up on her thoughts and carried them further.

“It’s like the mother figure should be intimidating but the use of the fly head suggests that she is easily quashed, irritating in her presence and highlights the filthy background.”

Gabrielle’s eyes were drawn to the baby figure. She was morbidly curious as to where this image would lead. She knew the artist personally. It was no secret David Finn had had a difficult childhood. He was orphaned as a young teen and had been drifting ever since. His work was often provocative but always striking at the abuse he seemed to have endured. They were all beautifully horrific cries for help. They were a mirror held up to the worst parts of the world so we could stare in awe at the destruction we have caused around us. They forced us to realise the masks we wear won’t cover the rotten parts underneath forever.

Follow David as he searches deeper into the murky depths of his childhood memories for inspiration.

MUSE is available now. Click HERE to read.

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A Beautiful Game; A Shady City

The beautiful game in the Shady City. Whilst tensions rise you can visit Coldford City Park, home of Coldford City FC, where battles are kept purely on the pitch.

Whilst focus remains on star striker, Andre Luis – fresh from Luen – the fans can leave their troubles at the gates. As they take on arch rivals Coldford Athletic, for those ninety minutes troubles are forgotten. The fight for honour and glory of trophies consumes the crowd. It doesn’t matter that the city is spiralling into a recession. If you control entertainment you can control the masses. When that entertainment stimulates a blood lust the masses need that control.

Enjoy this? Subscribe to the page for more or immerse yourself in the Shady City with the lates thriller, MUSE by clicking HERE.

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Lot 415

In the north of the city lies the Penn Auction House. It is well known to the people of Coldford and especially to artists like David Finn. He was a well sought after artist until he lost his way but never before had his pieces been held by the Penn House. After meeting his new Muse, Julia, things were going to be different. A painting at auction was something for any artist to strive for.

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The Penn House is ran by the triplet brothers Simon, Marcus and Reggie (Below – left to right). Marcus is the eldest by a few minutes and the one the others look to for leadership. Reggie is the youngest and the wildest of the three. He has a taste for cruelty and a fondness for keeping rats. Simon is the strongest. A champion boxer, his prized possession is his golden knuckle dusters that came to them from a source that is unknown but clearly important to the trio.

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The Penn triplets run a tight establishment at the auction house and it has been learned the hard way not to cheat, swindle or otherwise refuse to follow the rules.

When David Finn’s work is requested by the triplets it signals a change in his career. The downwards spiral can now become an upwards trajectory. The triplets see something in his work, something that speaks to them.

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MUSE is available now. Click HERE to read.

Check out Marcus in the Knock, Knock graphic novel series which is free to down load for kindle unlimited users HERE or free to read here on Vivika Widow Online by clicking HERE.

A Different View (adapted from Muse)

“Yes you’re a pretty girl but that’s not it,” the artist had told her. “It’s the uniqueness of your face, especially your eyes. They tell a story without you even realising it.”

Julia smiled at the photo he had sent of the work in progress. Her eyes reflected on the screen of her

phone. She blinked and put the phone down on the dresser. Turning to the full length mirror in the corner of her bedroom she observed her form. ‘He’s an artist. He probably says that to lots of girls he draws,’ she told herself. She wasn’t the girl in the picture, not really. It resembled her a little. Maybe it had been her at some point but it certainly wasn’t her then.

The image showed her bare form on a beach of swirling colours as a sea of blood red washed over her. It was powerful, provocative with the slightest hint of eroticism.

She turned in the mirror the way she was in the picture. It made her feel alive. She felt wanted and not in the way the doctor told her she was wanted. The artist made her feel wanted in mind, body and soul. The doctor only wanted her body and her name. With her father ill she was the last true Harvester on the farm. She may have been a simple farm girl but she knew the things the doctor made her do weren’t right. She wasn’t so out of touch that she didn’t realise satisfying the doctor’s kinks weren’t right but she had the farm to think about and those who worked on it. The farm hands were like family to her. So she kept the doctor happy and in doing so her true self retreated to the inner layers of her mind. The artist was drawing her out again.

“Julia,” she heard him call.

She went out into the hall and looked over the balcony. The Harvester farm house had been the only home she had known. It was still her home. Even though the walls had been painted a different colour, the furniture – including her bed – had been replaced by antique pieces that the doctor had deemed more appropriate it was still her home. When he moved in he turned her father’s study into a personal office. Julia was never allowed to enter without permission. It was locked tight whenever he was gone. She had checked. She had taken her first steps in that room back when her mother was still living. Now it belonged to the doctor.

The doctor was looking up at her. “I’m sorry,” she replied. “I can’t find my green dress.”

The doctor shook his head. “Don’t wear green. It washes you out. I picked a lovely red ensemble for

you to wear that will suit you marvellously. Now do hurry,” he scolded. He raised his wrist and pushed a button on the thick, gold watch he work. “You have fourteen minutes,” he announced. The timer started.

He looked up at Julia still staring, wide eyed, back down at him. She registered his request and

dashed back to her room to dress for in the clothes he had hung in the wardrobe for her. She returned with two minutes to spare.

“Good girl,” he commented with a pat on her head as though she were an obedient canine. He passed her a waxed cloth. “Shine,” he ordered.

Julia dropped to her knees and began to shine the doctor’s wing tips. They were a deep brown to

match his suit. He adjusted his tie so that it would sit at a perfect angle. When the shoes had reached an appropriate level of shine she stood back up. The doctor observed her.

“Don’t pout,” he snarled. “It ruins your face.”

Julia softened her expression as best she could.

“I am doing this for you, after all. It is your farm. Expansion, my dear. It’s all about expansion.”

As she followed the doctor out into the evening she thought again of the artist. Knowing that empowering picture which showed her like a Goddess like creature with the world at her feet gave her courage. The farm, the future of the Harvester brand would be in her hands again. Art has the power to inspire – especially when you are the muse behind that image.

Julia has an upward climb. Art can be uplifting.

MUSE is available now. Click HERE to read.

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Don’t Paint to Forget. Paint to Remember. (Adapted from Muse)

The door was open. Given what he had seen on the climb up to the nineteenth floor of the Kirkton apartments he could only imagine the horrors he would find inside number 19/6.

The lift was broken. The stairways were clogged with people of varying age and varying states of undress. One man – probably mid fifties – was spread across the stairs on the fifth floor. One of his boots were missing, leaving only a threadbare sock with filthy toe nails peeking through. He would appear dead if it weren’t for his rolling eye balls. Like the others he was out of his mind on pills, needles, alcohol or a combination of all. Coldford Police or CDP raided the place like they were spraying for termites on a weekly basis but there would always be one that would escape down one hole or another, scurry back out and breed until the apartments were filled with the dregs of society once again.

Alex had been afraid the first time he came to the Shanties of Coldford City. His parents had sheltered him so much the poorest part of town was like a whole other world. He was still afraid then. As he stepped over the bodies they seemed like macabre bread crumbs David had scattered so he could find him.

David wasn’t afraid though. He was born and raised in the Shanties for their fourteen years. Alex had tried to encourage him away to a better life but he still returned. The shanties were like a wild siren calling him home. Returning to the Shanties was one thing but coming to the Kirkton apartments meant that David had intended to score.

Only his fondness for David could have brought him into the middle of what seemed like the set of a horror movie. The smell of urine in the corridor was overwhelming. The lights that weren’t broken flickered in a headache inducing trance.

“You’re too young,” Alex had said when David told him of his intention to buy needles. “They won’t sell to you.”

David had smiled at his friends naïve assumption that dealers had age restrictions.

Alex entered apartment 19/6 cautiously. A woman was lying in the corridor, propped up against the wall. Her shirt was undone and her left breast exposed where she had removed her arm to take a needle. The name KELSEY was tattooed on her upper arm, probably a child’s name she no longer had in her care. Alex had never seen a real woman’s breast before before. Perhaps his mothers when he was a feeding infant but that didn’t really count. He was torn between finding David and covering the woman up.

There were two men drinking in the kitchen area which was to the left at the end of long hall. They turned and looked at Alex. They were cooking a brown substance on a spoon over an open flame on the cooker hob. The were sharing a bottle of cheap cider between them. Alex guessed they were preparing needles. The men in the kitchen turned back to what they were doing. They had stranger kids wander in looking for absentee parents. They knew Alex – with his fresh face, neatly combed hair and new clothes – didn’t belong there but they left him alone all the same.

Alex’s heart was at a sprint to the finish line when he looked around the lounge area. There was David propped up against a wall like the woman in the corridor. He was still a little spaced out but thankfully not completely gone. The room was empty furniture except for a filthy, soiled old mattress which two men were lying on. They were holding each other and one had reached for the others genitals. Both of them were lost to the world around them.

David looked up. At first he stared at Alex as though he were an apparition. His eyes cleared a little as he registered the reality.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He asked in a mix of frustration and fear. His words were barely audible though.

“I came to get you. I’m taking you home,” stated Alex.

The men in the kitchen stopped their conversation. David reached his hand out and Alex pulled him to his feet.

“Get out of here, Alex. You shouldn’t be here.”

“I’m not leaving without you so either you come with me or I settle down and take some needles too.” Alex knew David would never allow him to take the drugs.

“Don’t be stupid,” was his reply.

Alex remained firm. “So it’s stupid for me but not for you?”

David shook his head and brushed his bleached blonde hair back.

“It’s different,” he tried to say.

Alex shrugged his shoulders. “Is it though? The way I see it it’s one and the same.”

One of the men stepped out of the kitchen.

“Finn?” He spat. “What the fuck is this?”

David clutched onto Alex’s arm. “It’s nothing,” he said calmly, his words still a little slurred.

The boys left.

As they steadily descended the steps David said, “I ought to kick your ass. Do you have any idea what trouble you just put yourself in? Fuck sake, man!”

Alex grinned, helping David down the last of the steps. “Right now you couldn’t fight sleep. I’m so scared,” he mocked.

***

By the time they returned to the Ferrald home in the upper west David’s stomach had started to cramp. He vomited at the bus station but having ate very little in the past 24 hours it turned quickly to dry heaving, forcing them to stop several times en route.

When they got the the home they went straight upstairs to the spare room David always used when he stayed with the Ferrald family. It was used so often Mrs Ferrald called it David’s room and its walls were covered in drawings of David’s.

“Is that you Alex?” The mother called up to them.

“Yeah, mum,” Alex replied. “David too.”

“Have you boys had dinner?” Stephanie Ferrald enquired.

David rubbed his stomach in protest.

“No, we’re fine,” he told her.

Alex switched on the television to draw out any sound of there being something wrong. David lay down on the bed, looking up at the ceiling with his hands across his gut.”

“I don’t understand why you would go to a place like that,” Alex said.

Even if David tried to explain it Alex still would never understand the need to numb the pain, to escape the body even just for a short time. Alex had been by his side when he faced a terrible trauma. He was there on the day he became orphaned but Alex didn’t know the worst part. He didn’t know why it happened. David wouldn’t talk about it. He would rather escape, even if that escape was back at the Shanties where it all occurred.

***

They sat together for a few hours. As always David wouldn’t discuss his reasons for his obvious spiral. Instead they played video games, discussed the kids at school and Alex made David drink plenty of water. Sometime around midnight he devoured a bowl of sugary cereal.

David fell asleep. Alex went to his own room, glad to have the safety of his home around him. Only when he tried to fall asleep did he start reflecting on the true danger of the Kirkton apartments.

4am glowed silently on his bedside clock in very precise green numbers. Alex turned to go back to sleep but a full bladder called. He couldn’t ignore it. On his way to the bathroom across the hall he noticed David’s light was on. After voiding his bladder he knocked on the door gently and found him at the small desk in the corner. He was sketching. He paid no attention to Alex behind him. He was so lost in his drawing.

David was an incomparable artist. Even without any official training he had such a raw talent in painting, sketching and sculpting when he could get the clay. It was part of the reason why Alex would continue to pull him back no matter how many times he strayed. Seeing him propped against the wall, surrounded by junkies and low life’s it was not just a life wasted but talent too.

David, at fourteen, started to absorb himself in art instead of needles. He even began building a promising future but there was always that demon looking over his shoulder, reminding him of that trauma.

When his inspiration starts to falter he will have to address that childhood experience. He will have to search deep to the pain he tried to numb and look into the faces of the monsters that caused it.

David was considered one of the finest artists in the city but when his artistic vision starts to fail him Alex is forced to pull him back from the brink. It may be too late. He’s now in the grip of his latest muse.

MUSE is available now. Click HERE to read.

How far will you go?

When you feel like the weight of the world has been pushed onto your shoulders you have to smile prettily. You have to agree to the destruction around you and watch those you call family crush under the weight.

What else could you do? You were just young. You did what you thought was best. In the meantime the farm grew and flourished. It looked good. Lots of things can look good on the surface but have rotten roots underneath. The Harvester brand was rotting to the core.

But there is someone out there who sees it in you. He sees that you can uplift and inspire. He also sees that looming presence in the background stopping you from moving on. He sees it because it follows behind him too.

When the push comes to shove how far will you be willing to go?

Julia’s beauty is in the story that tells on her face. It inspires art but when the picture is complete will it look as pretty?

Click HERE to find out.

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Those Eyes

It was those eyes. They looked at me with such innocence and yet with a shine that was knowing.

She encouraged me with that look. She encouraged me more with a single stare than anyone ever had with words.

The negative bullshit that had been tearing me apart the past few weeks forgotten in a single moment of glorious inspiration.

She was my Muse and from her I learned that the darkest thoughts I had buried needed to be brought to the surface and that horrific day in my childhood painted with blood on a canvas for all to see.

Vivika Widow’s MUSE is available now.

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Click HERE to read.