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Drabbles Needed! Authors, have a go.
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Michael
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Aug 19, 2014 12:04AM

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If you've not read the previous drabbles in this series then you will find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/w...
N is for Necrophobia
I first discovered my fear of dead bodies at a young age. My nan had died and when my parents took me to view the body I freaked. Not so strange you might think, but it wasn’t grief which scared me.
The same happened at the death of my parents and then at the sight of a car crash. Whenever I saw a dead body fear overwhelmed me.
It’s not been that big a deal except for those few occasions. Of course things are different now and a paralysing terror of dead bodies isn’t that helpful during the zombie apocalypse.


The latest drabble (100 word story) in the Tales of the Imp series is here (and featured in today's Indie Book Bargains newsletter) and we discover what a hard life it is being a pawn of the diminutive devil! If you haven't read the previous drabbles in the series, or just want to recap then you will find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/t...
The Stud
Someone once told me that you can’t have too much of a good thing. Well they’re wrong! I’m absolutely bloody knackered. Every night the Imp brings me a new woman and he makes me have sex with them.
It doesn’t sound so bad when I say it like that, but before each session he injects me in each testicle.
That gets old quickly I can tell you!
When I complained he gave me an energy drink and told me to man up and get on with it. After all I have an army of bastards to sire.
Wait a minute!

http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/w...
O is for Orgasm
The French call an orgasm ‘le petite mort’, or ‘the little death’. At first glance it sounds like an odd phrase for such a moment. The instant which marks the culmination of union between two people. The passing of something intimate between them that can be recreated, but never truly the same.
A transient sacrifice you might say.
Personally I believe sacrifice should have value. So I slice the blade across their throats as they grunt and shiver their satisfaction above me. Their little death a damp patch between my legs and their real death a flood across my face.

http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/1...
A Friend at the End
Ah fear my old friend. It is so good to see you after so many years apart. We enjoyed such wondrous times you and I amidst the squalor of London’s streets. I sensed your presence beside me in the quickened pulse jetting from their beautifully slender necks. Together we dined on the rarest and most delightful of screams.
But your arrival at this time disturbs me. Why cast your fell shadow upon me on today of all days? You traitorous fiend! We were allies once and now you cloud my passing with dread of what will follow my dying breath.


My latest standalone drabble has been featured in today's Indie Book Bargains newsletter and copied below. It's Lovecraft inspired tale that's the kernel for a book idea that has been peculating in the back of my mind for a while.
If you've not read my other standalone drabbles then you'll find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/1...
The Space In-between
There is a secret hidden deep inside the heart of the universe. A terrible reality which once challenged the power of the divine. In a war spanning our universe and beyond the elder beings almost destroyed everything that was and what might yet come to be.
Those who survived imprisoned the horror inside a maze of nothingness. Only the complex space in between could contain their impossible forms. Their presence creates quantum chaos to what was once mathematical precision.
No faith alone can unlock their prison, but science has the key.
The elder ones await our discoveries with keen hunger.


If you haven't read the previous drabbles in the series then you'll find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/w...
P is for Pizzle
There’s nothing quite like the heft of a bull’s penis in your hand. It possesses a weight and flexibility which makes it an effective cudgel. It’s also an intimidating weapon, especially when people learn what it is I’m swinging in front of them.
Some think it’s funny of course and I smile along with them. Their smile usually disappears with the first blow, sometimes the second. By the fourth or fifth it’s difficult to tell if they’ve ever smiled at all.
And only once have I defaced a victim’s gravestone with the words ‘beaten to death with a bull’s cock’.

I WAS lazing on the golden sands on the south-west coast of Thailand, the blazing sun beating down on my body. The view as I gazed out over the vast expanse of the Andaman Sea was breath-taking. The subtle, salty scent of the ocean engrossed me; the serenity of the still blue waters only broken by the sound of the waves lapping against the rocks.
I reached for my bag, searched for my book and was about to begin the latest Conrad Jones crime- thriller, when my eyes met those of a struggling hawker.



We have a special for the latest Tales in the Imp drabble as you can see by the post's image!
If you haven't read the previous adventures of the Imp then you will find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/t...
The Imp in the Flesh
“After all I’ve done for you,” the Imp told me, “I think it’s time for you to demonstrate proper respect and devotion.”
“Am I not working your evil plan?”
“You are, but I desire something more permanent?”
“You have my soul.”
“And I would have more. I want my visage upon your flesh.”
“A tattoo? But they’re painful.”
He grinned at me, “Just so.”
I was wrong. It didn’t hurt. Well not much and not for the first few hours. Eventually it was done and I showed him the results.
He smiled. He always does when he gets his way.

Sort of appropriate on a page with the Imp :-)
Should you really be reading this?
Linger not on this page lest your slow spiral to a life of sin and debauchery will be chronicled on this forum and preserved as a warning to others. Traveller, do not pass by unheeding; this sad tale could so easily be yours.
Sober readers will read your tale and despair, before switching off their machine with an ill-repressed shudder. They will sit staring at a darkened screen long into the night, as they silently bewail their own fate.
The rest will merely pass through in transports of hedonistic pleasure, blind and deaf to anything save their own frantic cravings.

If you haven't read the previous drabbles in the series, or just want to read through them again then you can find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/w...
Q is for Quartered
The anticipation seemed worse than the deed. After all, we no longer lived in the dark ages. A machine would separate me into four pieces to be cubed and displayed. It would do so too quickly for pain.
No, the waiting tormented me with thought of what would come. Already I lay in a pool of my stinking fear, its touch acrid against my skin. Why must they make me wait? Was the judgement insufficient for my crime?
The moment arrived and proved me wrong. So very wrong. My death lasted just a moment, but a moment of eternal agony.


The latest drabble from the Tales of the Imp series has been posted in the Indie Book Bargains newsletter and the little devil has made himself a new friend!
If you've not read the previous drabbles in the series then you will find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/t...
Duck Face
Sweet Jesus what had the yellow horror done now! I ran in the room and discovered feathers and blood all over the room. My lovely sitting room with my expensive new TV all covered in gore. I’d heard a strange commotion moments before, quacking and screaming like nothing I could have imagined and now I saw why.
“What have you done?” I asked him.
He turned to face me and I beheld the true horror of it. He wore a duck’s face stretched across his own. The beak flapped as he spoke.
“I have a duck’s face,” he told me.

Mid-life Crisis by Kath Middleton
Angie had a duck-fit when Nick arrived back from a stag weekend with a tattoo on his upper arm. It was strange, foreign writing. It must have been sore, and it wasn't even a bright picture. It looked boring and had cost a packet.
"What does it say?"
"It's some sort of Japanese good luck thing."
"You mean you were too smashed to ask!" she snapped.
She decided to find out and copied the shapes to show to the Japanese teaching assistant at the children's school. He looked and laughed.
"It means a fool and his money are soon parted."

Not My Fault by Kath Middleton
He just wanted to go away and hide. He knew he’d done wrong. He’d been given very strict instructions and there was only one thing he mustn’t do. He stole something that he had no right to have. He felt thoroughly ashamed and stupid; he knew he’d be found out. In some ways, it seemed worse if you’d been trusted and you’d betrayed that trust.
The Big Man seemed to have no difficulty in finding him.
“Why did you do it?” he demanded. “You have everything here.”
“It wasn’t my fault,” whined cowardly Adam. “The woman made me do it!”

If you haven't read the previous drabbles, or just want to read them again then you will find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/w...
S is for Sheol
A land of grey and shadow greeted me upon my passing. Featureless, it stretched beyond my sight. The shadows drifted towards me and as they approached I saw that they were spirits and, like me, had once known the warmth and colour of life.
Their voices formed a wind which assailed my hearing. Some were strong, and still bitter from their death. Others little more than whispers, having faded over time.
I hadn’t believed believe in any god or afterlife. A lesson hard learned for now I would dwell in this formless existence until every shade within faded to nothing.

Fair’s Fair
By Richard Martinus
“Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?”
“Allowing for all variant perceptions of fairness, it’s a toss-up between Tongar, a rainforest pygmy, and a gerbil in Gateshead called Ralph.”
“I meant, fairest human Caucasian female by prevailing Western standards.”
“Jessica Alba.”
“Apart from her, obviously.”
“Megan Fox.”
“Narrow the search further. Who’s the fairest person in this palace?”
“If you cleaned her up a bit, that scullery maid Gretchen—”
“In this bloody room!”
“That would be me.”
“And if I heave this bedpad through you?”
“No!”
CRASH! Tinkle, tinkle.
“So it’s me. Thought as much.”

If you want to read the previous drabbles in this series then you'll find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/w...
T is for Tiger
I didn’t expect to see a giant carnivorous cat when I walked into my front room.
Well you wouldn’t would you?
Its handsome fur gleamed in the light and the sight captivated me. It didn’t seem to mind so I walked in. It looked up as I entered and with orange eyes pondered my insignificance.
Strangely I felt no fear, not then. The puzzle of why such a magnificent beast waited for me occupied my thoughts. I’ve never been a cat person, but with a roar it let me know that it was a people cat.
Then I knew fear.

Togetherness by Kath Middleton
Paul had taken his courage in both hands and gone along with his pregnant wife to her ante-natal classes. The instructor, a trained midwife, had lots of sensible advice on eating carefully and exercising gently. He began to feel he might actually be a hero!
“One of the best exercises is walking,” said the instructor. “Nothing strenuous, of course. Walking on a flat, soft surface, like grass, is very good and if you walk together you are supporting your wife.”
Paul put up his hand. “Would it be okay if she carried a golf bag while we’re walking?” he asked.

Togetherness by Kath Middleton
Paul had taken his courage in both hands and gone along with his pregnant wife to her ante-natal c..."
Loved this.

Just normal for married life then....

There was another wedding at the village church today. It's been a summer for weddings. The family arrive in their best and brightest outfits and all the faces smile. Sometimes I find myself wondering how the couple finally chose to be together. How did that man choose that woman? Why, of all the men she met, all the ones she ever went out with, did the bride choose this one? I wonder how many possible partners were rejected on the way to the altar.
It occurred to me later, how close the words 'wedding' and 'weeding' are in the dictionary.

Loved it, it is so absolutely true



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)