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The latest Tales of the Imp drabble has been posted in the Indie Book Bargains newsletter (you can sign up for their newsletter and see the latest bargains here: http://www.indie-book-bargains.co.uk/), as always a big thanks to Rosen for her dedication in supporting other indie authors!
If you haven't read the rest of the drabbles then you can read all of them here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/t...
The Imp's origin story can be found in the Off the KUF collection of stories, you can buy it from Amazon here:
http://amzn.to/1k9Z1UJ
Suspect Research
Another wonderful date and you know what, I’d never been so happy, even the Imp seemed pleased for me with his toothy grin flashing in my direction.
He still wouldn’t let me consummate the relationship though, he permitted only kissing and some light petting, anymore and he would howl like a werewolf dipped in silver, right in my ear.
Tonight though I couldn’t find him, I saw that he’d been on the computer and I expected to see the usual zombie gnome porn, instead found something very different.
Now why would an imp want to read about genetic memory research?
Welcome to the first drabble in my new series called 'ABC Drabbles of Death', in this series we'll take a wander through the alphabet and I'll write a deathly drabble for each letter. We start at the beginning with 'A is for Axe'.
For drabble fans and of short and flash fiction come and join the Facebook group dedicated to those forms:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/short...
A is for Axe
The silver smile, as sharp as the crescent moon invites me to play. The haft rests naturally in my hands, the weight of the blade is eager to strike. The swing forms a pure moment from start to finish as the blade slams deep into the meat. Its balance doesn’t require strength, only the swing.
A scream always accompanies the opening of another smile on the pale flesh. Another arc and another gaping wound. A chorus of screams in synchronicity with the axe.
One last swing and all is silent, the blade no longer silver, but still smiling. In red.
Welcome to the second in the ABC Drabbles of death series, as can be expected we have reached the letter 'B'. The series will take each letter of the alphabet and I'll write a death themed drabble based on that letter.
If you missed the first in the series - 'A is for Axe' then do not worry, because you will find all of the drabbles from this series on this page:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/w...
If you enjoy reading or writing drabbles (or indeed both!) and other forms of short and flash fiction then come and join the Facebook group I've set up to showcase these bite sized stories:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/short...
And now...
B is for Buried
Smothered in darkness, the air is warm and it’s difficult to breath. Where am I? How did I get here? I don’t remember! I cry out for help, my voice loud in my ears. The walls press close, I cannot move. The suffocating tomb swallows my frantic prayers.
Exhausted I slip into my personal darkness only to awake in the nightmare once more, the air is warmer and I feel light headed. I’m so weak that I lay in silence. Panic becomes my final companion in the darkness and it will hold me close until the air is no more.
Thanks Kath, although I foresee a couple of tricky letters :-)
They're the ones I'm particularly awaiting! ;)
We're up to the letter 'C' in the ABC Drabbles of Death series, in this series I take write a macabre drabble for each letter in the alphabet, if you haven't read the first two drabbles in the series then you can do so here:http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/w...
For fans and writers of flash and short fiction come and join the Facebook group I've set up dedicated in those forms:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/short...
C is for Cannibalism
Smart meat is my dining delight and I accept no substitute, after all, why restrict yourself to mundane flesh when you can consume the most treasured of delicacies?
Oh I know that people condemn cannibalism as a perversion, but what would they know? Have they filleted the skin from a choice thigh, the skin loose from being hung? How can they not realise how much sweeter the organs taste when you have looked into their eyes and seen the meat’s hopes and dreams fade to a glassy stare?
No they do not understand, but I do and I’m not alone.
This week's ABC Drabble of Death is the letter 'D' and it also happens to be one of my favourite words! If you've missed the previous drabbles then you can read them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/w...
And for fans of drabbles and other forms of short and flash fiction you're welcome to come and join the Facebook group dedicated to these stories:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/short...
And now...
D is for Defenestrate
I love the fact that there is a word that describes the act of throwing someone through a window. It makes life so much more convenient don’t you think? Yes I know, you’ll have my money by the end of the day, you promise, you swear on the lives of your children.
You might not be a man of your word, but I am.
I warned you and you still didn’t pay, so it’s time to find out if you can fly. I love it when the rich guys don’t pay, do you know why?
They always live in penthouses.
The latest in the Murder Drabbles series has been posted in the Indie Book Bargains newsletter (you can sign up for the newsletter here: http://www.indie-book-bargains.co.uk). If you've missed the previous drabbles (a drabble is a story that is exactly 100 words long) then you can read them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/m...
Keeping the Story Straight
The two detectives questioned me all afternoon, my earlier evasiveness had caught their attention so now I had to placate them with truth.
I told them I’d been in the park, but I hadn’t seen anything and that I hadn’t said anything because I hadn’t known about the murder. I think the fat one intuited that I wasn’t saying everything, but I stuck to my story and without evidence they couldn’t hold me.
Eventually they let me go, that wouldn’t be the end, so I would have to be much more careful the next time I indulged in my delights.
After a significant absence from the drabbling world, I posted a new entry on Drablr over the weekend. This will probably end up being the only football-related thing I ever write...Time Stoppage
by Andrew Lawston
Red or blue? Wayne Rooney snipped the blue wire, and released a breath he didn't know he was holding. Two minutes left.
Van Persie punched the air. "One more and it's disarmed! Manchester saved!"
Wayne's dextrous fingers blurred over the bomb's spaghetti innards, but he was shaking his head. "No good, I need three more minutes!"
With a soft click, the countdown flashed back to five minutes.
"Impossible! Unless..." Both men turned to the dressing room door, where a figure stood bathed in light.
"I come back to you now," said Sir Alex Ferguson, "at the turn of the tide."
(my drabbles can all be found at http://drablr.com/alawston)
We continue the macabre journey through the alphabet with the latest in the ABC Drabbles of Death series. This week we reach the letter 'E' and while it's an obvious choice it was a lot of fun to write! If you haven't read the previous drabbles in the series then you can read them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/w...
If you hunger for more short stories or flash fiction then I know just the place - come and join the dediacted Facebook group only a click away:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/short...
And now it's time to see what people are made of...
E is for Eviscerate
These days I prefer to use a hook. I started with a knife and that works fine. Too easy for my taste, I like there to be some skill. A hook takes more effort, a good swing to get it in, and then a yank to pull everything out.
There’s a knack to not nicking the bowels on the way in, not a pleasant smell if you do I can tell you!
The highlight for me is watching them weep and try to stuff everything back in. How it all ever fit inside is a wonder if you ask me.
The latest drabble (a 100 word story) in the Tales of the Imp series was posted in Friday's Indie Book Bargains newsletter. Visit www.indie-book-bargains.co.uk to sign up for the newsletter and receive a daily drabble and UK Kindle bargains.
If you haven't read the previous drabbles in the series then you can read them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/t...
If you want to read the origin story for the Imp, you'll find it in the Off the KUF collection of short stories:
http://amzn.to/1nT0qo2
While the Cat’s Away
Happy days are here to stay! The Imp departed on secret business, I had the whole night without his interference.
I wore my cleanest shirt; a bit rumpled, but never mind. A splash of aftershave and I was ready. I arrived at the restaurant an hour early, so did she.
Drinks and food passed by in a blur and here we are in the bedroom and oh my word I’m trembling with excitement. She is too; it’s going to be amazing. Naked we embrace and an unwelcome shrill voice pipes into my ear.
“What’s going on here then?”
Damn him!
Our deadly march through the alphabet continues and this week I thought I'd avoid the obvious choices. In fact it's almost a whimsical choice! If you've not read the previous drabbles (100 word stories) in this series then you can read them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/w...
And if that isn't enough to satisfy your flash fiction or short story needs then come and join the Facebook group dedicated to those forms and discover some more fantastic reads:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/short...
And now let's find out how dangerous a finger can be...
F is for Finger
I know what you’re thinking. A finger can’t kill you. How wrong you are! With a finger I can pull a trigger and BANG, you’re dead. Okay, that would be cheating. How about this?
A sly diversion and a finger jabbed straight in your eye! I’m nervous on the first attempt, so it’ll only hurt a bit. There’ll be a struggle so I can get a clear shot and try again. I’ll keep jabbing until your eye is a wet mess and I stab through your retina and into your brain.
It’s not easy, but a finger can kill you.
It's a lovely sunny day out there and I've bought a new suit! To celebrate this wonderful day lets take a macabre look at the next letter in our journey through the alphabet. This week's letter is 'G' and it was a tough choice until I remembered a story I was told as a child.
If you've not read the previous drabbles in this series then you can find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/w...
And if you're looking for more flash or short fiction to read then come and join the Facebook group dedicated to these forms:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/short...
G is for Grind
As a boy I lived near a quarry. My best friend and I played there whenever we could. We weren’t supposed to and we got into so much trouble whenever we were caught!
We didn’t stop though. Climbing the huge pile of rock was our favourite game. It wasn’t easy with the stones slipping beneath us, but the view from the summit was worth the effort.
We didn’t know that the mounds were positioned over trap doors; the rocks would pour through and be ground up into gravel.
I never played there again and Paul never played anywhere ever again.
I love your dark and twisty mind.
Friday the 13th, a drabble by Jonathan Hill13.06.14
I never used to treat Friday the 13th differently. It had always brought me no less luck than any other day. ‘Oh no, Friday the 13th!’ they all used to gasp at work. What nonsense, I’d think.
This morning, I cycled to the local farm for some eggs. “There’s an extra one in there,” the farmer said with a curious smile.
“Thanks,” I replied. “A baker’s dozen!”
I hadn’t been home long before the biggest egg started to move from side to side, like a baby’s cradle but more erratic.
If anyone is reading this, please, please, help me.
That's what you get for buying eggs from Kath.
Patti (baconater) wrote: "That's what you get for buying eggs from Kath."Buying? I gave them to him! Oh. Ahem.
Good drabble there, Jonathan. :)
A new Thursday and the next letter in the ABC Drabbles of Death series is upon us. For those of you new to drabbles they are stories that are exactly 100 words long. This week we have reached the letter 'H' and it's a bit of a gruesome one!
If you haven't read the rest of the series then you can catch up with all the previous letters here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/w...
We have a special guest star for next week's letter :-)
If you're looking for more drabbles or other forms of flash and short fiction then come and join this Facebook group. There's a wonderful array of stories to be enjoyed:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/short...
H is for Hacksaw
It’s all in the preparation. You can never be too careful. The moment you start sawing the victim will struggle. Man or woman they will scream louder than anything you’ve ever heard and their strength beyond what you would expect.
We all have this primal instinct you see.
Naturally it takes time to saw through each of the joints and as you might imagine it creates one hell of a mess, but how else could I fit a person in such a small box?
Why not kill them first you might ask. Well where would be the fun in that?
Sounds like I'll have to read it with my eyes shut!
You're little friend is making a guest appearance :-)
Ah, bless. If that's not totally the wrong thing to say to an Imp?
The latest in the murder drabble series has been posted in the Indie Book Bargains newsletter (sign up to their newsletter at www.indie-book-bargains.co.uk for a daily drabble fix and the latest Kindle book bargains). If you haven't read the previous drabbles you can find the whole series here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/m...
A Drabble Too Far
The need to kill became physical, more than simple desire. My waking mind tormented by the sweet images of severed throats and spilling guts. The music of screams, I yearned to hear them again, but they would be watching. Fear tempered my desire and a despairing thought reminded me of these drabbles.
These confessions of the acts I’d committed. Who had read them and who would connect them? I couldn’t stop though, they were my trophies, my memories of treasured moments. I could no more give up these drabbles than I could killing, I would need to take precautions though.
We see a bit more of the Imp's machinations in the latest Tales of the Imp drabble. If you're not familiar with drabbles then they are a story that is exactly 100 words long. You can read the previous drabbles in the series here:http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/t...
You can also find the origin story for the Imp (and it is a more traditional short story length) in the Off the KUF anthology, you can find the book on Amazon: http://amzn.to/1fbJHXv
And now let us see what the Imp is up to...
Sharp Scratch
I shouted at the Imp. I demanded to be allowed to make my own choices. He told me that the time had arrived; I needed one more change to become ready. And God help me I asked him what that was.
He showed me a syringe, it looked huge in his tiny hand.
I could have sex that very evening if I let him inject me with his secret concoction. I immediately offered him my arm and he shook his head and pointed down below. I hesitated, but figured it would just be a sharp scratch.
How wrong I was!
We reach the letter 'I' in our trip through the alphabet and for this drabble we have a special guest star. The Imp is no stranger to death, although he does have his own unusual methods.
If you want to read the previous drabbles in the series then you can find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/w...
And if you're looking for more short and flash fiction to read then come and join the Facebook group dedicated to those forms:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/short...
I is for Imp
The Imp’s a tiny fellow; even so he once killed a man in the most horrible fashion I have ever witnessed.
He waited until the poor fellow slept and then superglued his lips and one nostril shut. He waited patiently to make sure that the skin had properly fused.
He then pissed into the man’s nostril.
He did it in my ear once and it burns I can tell you!
The man awoke panicked, unable to breath and demon urine flooding his lungs. The glue held firm and I stood amazed that such a tiny creature could piss so much.
And from me -The Bag Lady
She wandered around the town centre all day and spent the nights in a doorway, wrapped in her thick old coat, insulated with newspapers. She always clutched a plastic shopping bag, never putting it down or letting it out of her sight. Her husband had disappeared years ago and she'd been evicted for defaulting on the rent. Now she was just another tramp with no home and no income other than the small change she could beg. She was barely hanging on to life and a harsh winter finished her off. In her bag they found her husband's mummified head.
A new drabble (100 word story) of mine has been posted in Indie Book Bargains newsletter (visit their website www.indie-book-bargains.co.uk for a daily drabble and Kindle book bargains). This drabble is the first in a two-parter. You can read my other drabbles on my drabble page here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/1...
And if you're looking for more drabbles or flash and short fiction then come and join the Facebook group dedicated to those forms:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/short...
The Life of a Prayer (Atheist Version)
From my heart comes the pain, a physical burden, too terrible to bear.
From my mind emerges understanding of my suffering and the desire to be whole once more.
From my lips issue the words of my plea, my hopes for a life reborn anew.
Through my ears I hear the words that my lips have spoken.
Through my mind I tease meaning from the memories of the life I have lived.
Through my dreams I ponder the solution to my grief.
Through the passage of time I accept what has gone and what has come and life rolls on.
A new drabble from me over on Drablr...INFO-DUMP
For thirty minutes every morning, John sat down to work on producing his novel. He found it hard, even painful, but he knew his discipline would pay off.
Tears sprang to his eyes as he imagined how wonderful it would feel when the book finally came out.
One morning, he finished creating his masterpiece.
It landed in the toilet with a splash. John stood and looked at it floating in the bowl. A 300 page paperback, embossed cover.
John nodded, and reached for the flush.
He'd always known he had a book in him. Ever since they removed his appendix.
http://drablr.com/alawston/drabble/bv...
And another from me -The Honest Truth by Kath Middleton
John was an honest man. If he couldn't tell the absolute truth he'd rather prevaricate. If his mates asked him, "Should we skive off for an early lunch?" John would reply, "I dare say we could."
"Do you think the team will win on Saturday John?" his pal Mike asked.
"Aye, I dare say they might," replied our original mild mannered man.
"What do you think to this weather then?" asked his mum. "I dare say it'll clear up," John ventured.
He was really stumped when his wife bought that tight fitting dress.
"How do I look?"
He daren't say!
The second drabble from the Life of a Prayer pair has been posted in the Indie Book Bargains newsletter (Visit http://www.indie-book-bargains.co.uk/ to sign up for the newsletter). The first drabble was the Atheist version and can be found here along with my other dtabbles that aren't part of a longer series:http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/1...
Life of a Prayer (Believer Version)
From my heart comes the pain, a physical thing too terrible to bear.
From my mind emerges understanding of my suffering and the desire to be whole once more.
From my lips issue the words of my prayer, my dream for a life reborn anew.
Through God’s ears he comprehends the anguish that my lips have spoken.
Through God’s great benevolence he provides comfort and hope in a world that has none.
Through God’s wisdom I understand a world greater than the darkness around me.
Day by day I am comforted and from grief’s long night dawn rises once more.
One of mine on the Indie Book Bargains newsletter today.Typos by Kath Middleton
I'm havibg a load of grief wirh my work at thr momrnt. It's dricing me ansolutrly crazy. I'm not ususlly a bad typost. I took a course in toucg typing abd I'm usually prettu fast and accurate. I blane my latest purchade. I'm too susceptoble to pressyre when I go inro a shop. I see somethong nrw and I've just got ro have it. An adbertusing executovr's dream, that's me.
Abyway, I briught my new purchasr home and unpacked it caredully.
Dratted mouse.
It keeps squeakong and runbing about all ocer the keyboard and you see thr resuilt beforr you!
The Joys of JoustingThe pennons fluttered in the light breeze over the tourney. The crown stirred, impatient for the finale. King Richard’s horse stomped restlessly at one end of the field, but where was his rival?
Ser Cadwin d’Boltone was nowhere to be seen.
The horns blew shrilly, calling him to battle, but no sign of the errant knight.
Meanwhile, in a small marquee, Cadwin was hopping from foot to foot. He was prising off his codpiece with a pair of pliers. Finally, the last clasp was released. A heavy sigh. The sound of running water.
“I’m getting too old for this malarkey!”
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Books mentioned in this topic
Lost Innocence: The Accused (other topics)Azazel (other topics)
Authors mentioned in this topic
Andrew K. Lawston (other topics)Andrew K. Lawston (other topics)
Handy Man in Training by Kath Middleton"
Love it.