They trickle through me, their oddness curling behind my tired eyes and floating on invisible wings through the twisting labyrinth of my mind. I try to understand them, reaching out a curious hand to gently pluck them from the air but they playfully elude me by vanishing and reappearing high above my head. I let out a sigh and simply watch as these mystical fireflies shimmer in and out of focus, illuminating the inky black of within with a strange cerulean glow. Tiny free-floating enigmas that were created from my dreams.
I try to make sense of the dreams echoing behind my gaze as crisp morning air dances along the graceful expanse of my neck, cooling the exposed flesh as it whispers past. Such strange dreams that I can only remember in flashes. The echo of a masculine laugh, the gentle caress of a rough yet warm hand against my shoulder, the heated breath against the nape of my neck, the deep baritone voice that felt like living thunder coursing a path of fire through my veins…
It was only a segment, a glimpse of a moment put on pause in the back of my mind. He was with me, the muse that hides within the shadows, the haunting glow of his quick silver gaze focused on me with the silent intensity of a predator watching its prey. The living sentinel that haunts the catacombs of my imagination, biding his time in that inky blackness just beyond my memory warehouse, beyond the secret steel door that holds my personal creations made of death and shadows. His movements are methodical as he walks within the silence and retrieves any lost file he finds along his way. The occasional horror that escapes that hidden vault, alone and afraid… He hunts it down and is somehow able to calm the terrible obsidian creature with its grinning mouth filled with rows of metallic teeth. These wayward shadows follow him willingly, knowing he’s not a threat and find themselves brought safely back to their Hive where a grateful Mother lies in wait.
Been too long since I’ve felt the safety of his presence. Sensing that I’m not alone in the vast abyss as two silver/blue orbs glow to life and I suddenly realize he’s peering down at me like intelligent starlight.
Richard B Riddick. The one with the Furyan blood and Shined Eyes. The one they call an Escaped Convict, Murderer.
The one I call Friend.
* * * * *
-gives a small smile and takes a drink of her coffee-
So the old muse has made an appearance again. Can’t remember specifics but I do remember his presence. Which means he’s close to the surface again. Definitely not a bad thing.
Now I remember mentioning that I had started writing a story and wasn’t sure where I was going to go with it. It’s still in the rough stages but I thought I’d give you guys the chance to check it out and let me know what you think.
And on that note, enjoy!
* * * *
-Something In The Way- (4’21’2015)
Static swells through the mind as blood rushes wildly through heated veins. So many wayward souls; discarded, bleeding and broken…strewn out across the landscape of my memories like the haunting images of a tragic childhood. Trapped in an eternal cycle of pain, death and blood, over and over by my hand. Such delicate, small hands…you’d never know the red they’ve been stained with, the screams they’ve muffled, the necks they’ve snapped, the light they’ve snuffed out. Two unsuspecting hands that have sent the damned, the fallen, the forsaken and even the most twisted to their inevitable fate.
I’ve been here so many times before…I wish it would stop. I wish I could go back and find that innocence that I lost somewhere along the way. It hurts in a way I can never truly describe. Probably because I’ve forgotten what it’s like to feel. What it was like to know the sting of remorse as the edge of my blade sliced the delicate flesh and unleashed the precious life force of my enemy in a spray of crimson freedom. To remember what the guilt tasted like as salty tears spilled down my face in trails of moist regret. When did it all go wrong? How did I end up on this darkened path on my way toward what I thought was redemption? Where did I go…and how is it that I’ve become this, thing?
I’ve become cold and silent. Calculating, methodical and scrutinizing every detail in my surroundings. Never a moment to pause, always moving, always searching. It never stops. It will never stop. I can’t stop. I’ve become nothing more than a machine of flesh and bone. Fading echoes of the life that once filled this walking shell with warmth.
Heavy boots walk a careful path of silence along a leviathan of ancient pavement as night swallows the last lingering light of day. I can feel the chill tickling the back of my neck as the air fills with the promise of fog while old lampposts along the street begin to shimmer to life, emitting a strange golden halo against the growing darkness.
I’m out patrolling on foot again. Searching the faceless people that ghost my path. You see, I got this gift that allows me to see what they really are. People aren’t always what they seem. They’re not just people. I see what’s hidden, the thing living beneath the human disguise. It’s usually something so small most folk tend to miss it. That’s how they get by because no one ever really stops and pays close attention to the stranger they’re interacting with. Many innocent lives would be saved if they did. Heh, would make my life so much easier.
Since they can’t see what’s in front of’em, they draw the short straw and get screwed. Too dull to know that there’s a big bad about to eat their face off and just like that, it’s over.
But that’s where I come in. I’m that oddball in the crowd no one really notices except for that uneasy feeling I give’em. The silent warning that they shouldn’t stare too long or stand too close. They keep a good amount of distance, which gives me adequate space to do my job. I don’t have time for social niceties. I don’t dig crowds much anyway.
Besides, better to seem off-putting when everyone you’ve ever loved was taken from you in a moment of violence and blood. Friends ain’t something a hunter has a place for in their lives. It’s just too dangerous for civilians, even when their eyes have been opened to the things that linger behind closet doors and just underneath their beds. Better off alone. At least that’s how I’ve always seen it.
That is until I ran into these brothers, the Winchesters and I gotta be honest…
They’ve been nothing but a severe pain in my ass.
-TBC-
It’s quiet here on this early Wednesday morning. My body is warm despite the cool air trickling in through the open window as the mechanical thrum of the computer sings to my right; my fingers dance along black keys without so much as a downward glance. The heaviness of sleep still clings gently to my mind, my muscles slow in their movements, eyes swollen and desperate to close so that I can fall back into the embrace of my dreamscapes. A place where I know I’m welcomed, where I’m safe. Where the harshness of reality slips away and I’m left weightless and free. I want to go back there and let myself drift away…
I pause and close my eyes, listening to the sound of my own heartbeat pounding strong and steady within its cage of flesh and bone. Feeling the gentle rise and fall of my chest as my lungs expand and contract with every slow breath I take. I let out a sigh, open my eyes and let myself open my memory warehouse deep inside, searching the catacombs of files lined against the walls, stretched out into an eternity like a serpent of thoughts and precious memories. As I search, the ghostly image of myself walking barefooted along the metal grating as the tips of my fingers brush along the smooth surface of the filing cabinets I pass. I don’t have to look to know where I’m going as I find myself being pulled to an adjacent room off to the side of this hidden warehouse. A large steel door fills my sight as I stand before the hidden vault. With a small wave of my hand, gears hiss and groan followed by the ancient thing slowly opening outward as if beckoning me to enter. I smile and slip inside, knowing what lies behind that reinforced steel door as it closes back into place behind me.
Suddenly, I’m standing in complete darkness.
Within the quiet I can hear movement. Slithering, crawling, scraping sounds of things moving all around me. Instead of terror filling me I find myself smiling. I stretch my right hand out and feel my soul tingle at the feeling of something smooth pressing against the fleshy part of my palm. A soft hissing purr dances through my ears as my hand slides along the smooth surface of the living nightmare to my right. I close my eyes and let out a happy sigh as a chorus of hissing rises up into the air and I can feel them surrounding me. Opening my eyes, I notice a soft glow of golden light has begun to pour into the darkness like a living wave of fog pouring off the ocean itself. That’s when the nightmares reveal their shapes and my heart skips a beat. Dozens of elongated skulls attached to frightening skeletal black forms with whip like tails cover every inch of the room, from the one next to me crouching on the ground like a guard dog, to the very ceiling made of the same structures found in Hadley’s Hope near the primary heat exchange. They’ve created their very own hive. This vault hidden within the depths of my memory warehouse, my little piece of heaven has become their home…
My sanctuary.
The Alien to my right is crouched on all fours and gently leans its head against my waist, like a large dog seeking comfort. I comply by my draping my right forearm along its long, curved cranium and gently brush my fingertips along its smooth flesh. It has a very light sheen of moisture along its surface, reminding me of a mixture of things. Slightly rubbery like a dolphin but slightly slimy like a stingray. It's not repulsive like one might think, but not many would call my living nightmares cute and cuddly.
Several of the Xenomorphs pass us and as they go by, they all find a way to touch me. A brush of clawed hand, the whisper of a tail, the fanning of hot breath along the back of my neck followed by a gentle head butt against my left shoulder by an eyeless face. I’m accepted here among living shadows as they tend to their mother’s demands. The Great Queen who dwells before me on her throne of flesh and bones. She appears like a titanic monster nestled against an organic spider web of black tubing. Her magnificent crown illuminated by a golden light pulsing somewhere behind her as a strange mist pools below her and stretches out along her sleeping children. I can see the very tips of the eggs peeking out just above that glowing vapor, knowing that I can walk among them and touch their strange forms without disturbing the dormant face huggers within.
This is the place I seek refuge when I need to get away from all the light and the noise of reality. A secret darkness filled with my childhood guardians. Creatures that would chase away my nightmares and keep me safe.
A place I call home.
* * *
Such a strange thing to call welcoming, but it’s where I go in my head when I need to take a step back from the harshness of life and allow myself to breathe. I’ve been spending more time there in recent days due to how exhausted I’ve been. Physically and emotionally. I’ve just been worn out and I know I’m not the only one.
Especially when it pertains to Faire; my other home. It will always hold that title, it’s just that these past few weekends have been very draining. Perhaps it has allot to do with the weather, the layout (it’s allot of walking) and the simple fact that this is the first year back at Faire without my Dad to share it with.
Many of you are probably sick of hearing me mentioning my Father. You have to understand that we were very close (I cannot stress this truth enough) and he literally was my rock. He was the voice of wisdom, my inspiration. He kept me going when I wanted to just say to hell with it and give up. He truly was my best friend and hero. I know I’m repeating myself but it’s to really drive home the point of how much his presence meant to me and the severity of the hole that was left behind in his passing. I am not the same because of it. I’m trying to gather up all the shattered bits and pieces of my life and find a way to put it back together. I know they will never fit the same way again, so instead, I’ll just have to learn to live with the holes left behind. At least I’m still trying and haven’t given up yet. I can’t and I won’t. I refuse, no matter how fragmented I may feel.
Everything changes so I’ve taught myself to just roll with it. Don’t try to fight the riptide or it’ll pull you down and bury you in the depths. I’m not much for drowning so I’ll gladly swim along and see where it carries me. It may not be where I initially wanted to go but at least I’m still moving along the surface. I’m still breathing and that counts for something.
-gives a small smile and takes a drink from her second cup of strong coffee-
I gotta say that weather wise, the last two days have been wonderful. It’s been cool and humid with lovely overcast skies and chilly air. It reminds me so much of home and my tired body is incredibly grateful for it. It’s what we Renn Folk call, ‘Fine English Weather’. I hope it continues into the weekend, we need weather like this in Irwindale. Hell, I think we’ve earned it with how hot, windy and dry it’s been. Fingers crossed, lets hope that it is a lovely cool weekend. We could definitely use the break.
I’m not against sunlight and warm days. I just prefer cooler weather due to the fact that I run hot and tend to expel a great deal of heat on a normal basis. It’s not just because I drink allot of coffee, which speeds everything up internally and will elevate my core temperature. For an example, even as a little girl I could be found running around outside in jeans and a T-shirt completely at ease while most were bundled up and unwilling to move. It’s a genetic thing which I think I got more from my Dad’s side of the family. I find it funny actually… Due to the fact that a great deal of my childhood was spent in the desert. I adapted to that dry heat even if I didn’t like it because I didn’t have much of a choice. When I had the opportunity to live with my Father next to the ocean where I was born, I gladly made the decision to leave the desert behind me. Honestly, it was one of the best decisions I ever made.
I just wish I could go back, but for the moment due to the lack of funds and Ellie still being sick, I remain where I am. I will eventually visit my home by the sea, even while knowing that it will be bittersweet. Knowing that I can never go back to the way my life used to be, to the small apartment just a short distance up the street from the cliffs next to the great blue herself.
Damn, I guess I’m mourning more than just the loss of my Father. But I’m getting through it. I’m forcing myself to be positive about it even though my initial response is to go cold and hollow myself out of emotions. Cuz let me tell ya, this ain’t a picnic. Most days I’m right as rain (what a strange term…) then you’ve got those days where it all comes creeping back and the memories are like lightening flashes in the back of the skull, blinding you.
Heh, good times… -smirks and shakes her head-
Well, I think this is enough rambling for now. Wrote quite a bit more this morning than I have in some time. Probably due to the fact that I’m starting to get the actual itch to write again and not just thoughts, but stories. In fact, I started writing something last night that hasn’t left my brain. It’s got the Winchesters and a certain Holy Tax Accountant in it.
-gives a rueful smile with a wink-
We’ll see if I finish it today and when I do, you’ll be the first ones to read it.
On that note, I’ll see you lovelies on the flipside.
-Adieu
Cool air whispers in through the open window and trails invisible fingers along my heated flesh, comforting me as delicate fingers dance along a black keyboard. It's early on this lovely spring day and I find myself replaying the oddness of my dreams in my head so that I can convey them properly for you to read. Oddly enough, I've been having a common theme these past few days and it hasn't been unpleasant. Well, not for me anyway, whereas most might wake up in a sheen of sweat, clutching their sheet with a white knuckled grip as they struggle to take a steady breath.
-gives a small smile before taking a drink of her strong coffee-
I had mentioned that if and when I Cosplay, it will be Ellen Ripley from my all time favorite Aliens franchise, but I was torn as to which portrayal of her I should embody. After really thinking about it, I remembered how much my Father and I absolutely loved how twisted she was in Alien Resurrection and I remember thinking to myself how much fun it would be to portray that kind of character. Ellen Ripley, clone number 8.
Now here's the fun part; the dream 'theme' I've been having every night has involved that movie and the characters in it. But as all of you know, my mind is a terribly twisted place (even Stephen King himself would be afraid) and it created an alternate universe.
Here's what I can recall...
* * * *
Johner, Vriess and Call (Ron Perlman, Dominique Pinon, and Winona Ryder) were there with Ripley and I on a very large cargo ship. Ripley was becoming more and more like her old self (personality wise) which I took comfort in. I can't remember specifics as to how this all came to be, but I do remember vividly all of us sitting in a dimly lit chow hall, drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes. Call seemed on edge around me, even more so than she had been around Ripley when she first encountered her in the movie. Ripley had noticed it right away and told Call she needed to spill it already.
Johner had snorted out, "Yeah, Call. What's got those mechanical panties in a twist?"
Vriess, even in his motorized chair, managed to reach over and slap his upper arm and gave him a look. "Cool it, Johner."
"Hey, I'm just sayin' what were all thinkin'!" Johner exclaimed and smacked Vriess gently upside the head.
"You finished?!" Ripley snapped under her breath and received an inaudible grumble in reply. She then turned her eyes to Call, who was staring at me as if I were going to grow another head. "Go ahead, Call."
She took a deep breath, let it out slowly and ran a hand through her short hair. I found it rather fascinating due to the fact that she was a synthetic and didn't actually need to breathe in the first place. My thoughts went silent when she started to speak.
"There were hidden files in the data base." she began and finally gave me her eyes, "about you."
I blinked, "Okay, random." I quipped and licked my lips thoughtfully, "what did they say?"
Call seemed to be struggling internally about what she had to say next. She let out another sigh, "It was hidden under allot of encrypted coding so it took me some time to process it." she paused. "You're not supposed to be here."
"Alrighty," I shot out and narrowed my eyes, "elaborate."
"It was hidden even deeper then the cloning experiments." Call explained and looked from me, to Ripley and back to me. "Clone number seven's eggs had been extracted. Some kind of side experiment to see what would happen if they could fertilize one and bring it to full term."
I felt the blood drain from my face when she paused, eyes filled with sympathy. "It was a success. They created a healthy baby girl. Physically, you appeared completely human, like Ripley."
"Why do I hear a 'but' coming?" Ripley's voice cut through the sudden wave of static in my head, which caused me to glance to my right where she was sitting and then brought my gaze back to Call.
"They placed you with a surrogate family and monitored your development. Apparently they almost canned the project until you hit puberty. That's when things got interesting. Your physiology started to change, but it was too slow and they needed immediate results. So they put you under and sped up your aging process to the age you appear now. They were about to restart the experiments again when someone had reported you had flat lined around the same time this Ripley," she motioned to my hero, "was in development. Since she was a success, they wrote you off as a failed experiment. What they didn't realize is that you had been hidden away in cryo by someone who not only had the clearance to pull that off without being questioned, but a someone who actually cared about you."
It dawned on me at that moment, remembering a caring man who was more concerned with my well being than even the people who were supposedly my parents. "Dr. J something... I, I think I remember him." I announced and shook my head. "Wait a minute. Wasn't he the same Doc that worked with you?" I said to Ripley and she nodded. I just shook my head and muttered, "holy shit."
"Doctor Jonathan Gediman." Call corrected and worried her bottom lip between her teeth before continuing. "After the Queen had been extracted and placed in another part of the ship, Gediman noticed the readings coming from your cryo cell. Your brain activity started going off the charts as the Alien grew into maturity. He was so fascinated by this that he woke you up and kept you hidden from the rest of the crew, which was easy because no one knew what you looked like as an adult. He realized there was a link between you and the Queen. It seemed to get stronger when Ripley became more aware."
Johner suddenly piped in, "now wait a minute. If she was born inverted..."
"It's called in vitro." Vriess corrected and dodged Johner's paw of a hand when he motioned for him to shuttup.
"In vitro, what the-shit-ever," Johner snarled and leaned forward. "She was the other Ripley's kid. So wouldn't that like, make you her mother too?" He motioned to Ripley and a strange emotion danced through her soulful brown eyes.
A strange silence filled the room as we all let Johner's words sink in. It was frightening and intriguing to think that I was, technically speaking, Ripley's child. But I also knew that Ripley number seven was severely deformed and had more physical attributes to the Alien that bonded to her DNA through the cloning process. Why did it skip me and allow me to be born appearing like a normal human being?
"I'm not human..." I thought aloud in a low voice and felt everyone tense as if a gunshot had gone off. "I look human, but there's something inside me..." I trailed off and met Ripley's gaze. "I can feel it behind my eyes."
Ripley said nothing. The understanding was written in her worried expression. She simply placed her left hand over my right hand and held it. Her silent warmth a reassurance that I wasn't alone.
"You're not the only one who's got issues." Vriess chimed and gave me a small grin and a wink that actually caused me to chuckle.
Johner seemed to be having a serious thought because of the pained look on his face when he suddenly blurted out, "Fuck, know what I just realized?"
"That you have half a brain?" Call mused sarcastically and he just gave her a smirk.
"And proud of it!" He shot back and went back to his original thought. "Anyway, point is we all know Ripley's one scary motherfucker." Johner stopped and looked to Ripley. "That's a compliment."
She smirked and replied, "Thanks."
Johner gave her a grin and looked back to me, "Now we got you in the mix. Which makes me wonder what kind of monster you'll turn out to be?"
"Well," I said thoughtfully and grew strange kind of smile. "Guess we'll just have to wait and see."
* * * *
So yeah... Interesting, huh? Gives me all kinds of ideas...might even just run with it and keep writing, but we'll see.
Anyhoo, I gotta finish my coffee and start my day. This weekend is Time Traveler weekend at faire. Should be fun ^_^
And on that note, I'll see you all on the flip side.
-Adieu
Strangeness is the feeling that curls through my body as odd images dance behind my tired eyes. There was something about the dream that troubles me, but I can't put my finger on it. I also remember something about being on a transport, a space traveling ship that was taking us from a station to a relatively new planet to deep space travelers. But there was something on the ship with us...hiding in the air ducts and deep inside the hull, just behind the metal walls that separated us from that silent, cold void. I sensed it in the long shadows that stretched along the steel deck... a Strange kind of wheezing breath that whispered down from the vents telling me I wasn't alone. I could feel it following me everywhere I went. My very own alien shadow.
There was a slight altercation in the loading deck... I had gone in to run a quick diagnostic check on one of the doors leading to the airlock, (routine maintenance basically) when I heard heavy footsteps echo against the metal walls behind me. I turned and there stood a well built man with piercing blue eyes with a very unpleasant smile. I felt my stomach twist and my chest tighten. I didn't want him anywhere near me.
I tried to get away from him, tried getting around him so I wasn't trapped...but he was faster then I had anticipated and the next thing I know I'm pinned up against the cold metal wall by the throat. As I felt myself losing consciousness, my head throbbing and my lungs spasming, I witnessed something black drop from the ceiling behind him in complete silence. Specs of light began to fill my vision as his free hand bit the flesh of my stomach, attempting to tear my brown jumpsuit from my body when that terrible shadow began to rise up behind him.
He seemed to sense something was off and stopped long enough to see my bloodshot eyes staring at something just over his shoulder...
I watched the blood drain from his face when a low hiss echoed from the living shadow, its frightening face inches from the back of his head. I recognized that grinning mouth, glistening silver teeth encasing a second set just waiting to spring out.
Eyes clenched shut, I was waiting for that horrific crack and the splatter of blood and thicker things to follow... Instead I was suddenly released and slid down to the deck, coughing and wheezing; struggling to take a normal breath when I opened my eyes and looked up.
A skeletal hand was wrapped securely around his throat, holding him almost three feet off the deck, his boots dangling in mid air as the shadow's lips began to quiver, sending thick globs of saliva to pool down its chin and dribble to the floor with soft wet slaps.
His eyes bulged out of his head as it brought him close to its face and began to open its drooling mouth filled with those metallic teeth. I wanted to look away, plug my ears and pretend this wasn't real. But there was a part of me that needed to watch. Needed to see this sick sonuvabitch get what he rightly deserved.
It was a split second. Something flashed like quicksilver, a loud crunching pop followed by a splatter of blood and thicker things and the smell of urine that trickled down his pant legs, having lost control of his bladder moments before. There was another hiss, as if annoyed, when it tossed him to the side and slowly dropped down to all fours facing me. I didn't dare move as it inched toward me, its whip like tail weaving through the air behind it like a lazy cat.
I was backed up against the wall as if I could somehow become apart of it and just merge into the cold steel of the ship when that obsidian death brought its face to mine. I could smell the blood lingering on its breath as it hovered over me, reminding me of a dog investigating a stranger. The next thing I know, its gently nudging my chest with its forehead and I realize what it wants. With a trembling hand, I place it palm flat against the smooth expanse of its face where its eyes should be and feel my brow furrow when a strange purr resonates from deep inside its chest.
The dream changed its viewpoint and I was watching from the outside, as if the camera was panning out.
There, sitting on the cold cargo bay deck of the ship with her back propped against the wall was a girl and her Xenomorph.
* * * * *
And I woke up. Crazy dream, huh? -chuckles and drinks her coffee- Oh and yes, I'm up early because I have to make an appearance at the DMV this morning...oh joy. I'd rather not, but it has to be done.
And on that note...wish me luck ^_^
-Adieu-
