100TC #7 - Breathe Again

Sorry everyone I have been getting a bit late on my 100 Themes writing challenge. I will say I am a slow writer, and posting a new text every day is quite a challenge. So I might slow the pace a little bit, but do not worry I will still post very often :). I shall not make you wait any longer, so here is number 7, based around the theme "Breathe Again". 

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- BREATHE AGAIN -

Blood Rose

Finally, I will breathe again...

It has been so long. I felt like I was choking. I needed air. I needed to breathe. I needed it, to feel alive again. Without it I am not, I felt like a mindless corpse tending to my everyday job, soulless. I tried to change, I have always known this was wrong, but as far as I can remember, this is how I have been. I do not know why others do it, but I know why I cannot stop myself from doing it. It feeds my soul, my very being. It gives me the strength I need. It gives me a heart, with it I feel whole, I feel human, I feel alive. Every time I do it, it is as if I was reborn. Born anew, stronger than I ever was before, I feel life flow through my veins. It is enthralling, it is the most powerful feeling I could ever feel. It is more than an addiction; this is the very reason of my existence. It is all part of a great design I have been meant to be the center of. I might be different, others might think I am wrong, but I am above it all. Unlike them I know, I know what this feels like. I know what it can bring. The truth has been revealed to me in it, it makes me who I am, it is my destiny. Alas, I cannot do it whenever I please and I have been a long time without enjoying its delights. But tonight is the night I will breathe again. I will cut her veins with the knife I have prepared for this special night. The blood will flow out of her veins, slowly like rain on a beautiful blood rose, and life will slowly leave her poor and frail body. A small sacrifice for a greater design. I live only to kill, and as I slowly drain the life away from her, as I will see her take her last and final breath, the last sparkle of life dying in her eyes, I will breathe again. 

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(C) Copyright 2014 Hope Alexander aka David Giroux for the text

Picture by Ashayaa

100TC #6 - Innocence

6th entry of the 100 Themes writing challenge. Another short story today, enjoy :) Thank you for reading.

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- INNOCENCE -

An Empty Chair

“Such a sweet child, Sofia is. I am so proud of her. She is really good at school, you know?  For a 7 years old girl, who’d think she’d be that good at maths? She has a bright future ahead of her I know it, she’s a little genius. Such intelligence in such a sweet innocent little thing. She’s not only good at maths, she also has a wonderful imagination. She always tells all those stories about her imaginary friends. There’s Mr M. for example, she says he’s her best friend. Apparently he’s the one who tells her all those things about being so good at maths. I know how things really are though, she’s only a little girl of course she’d wonder why she is so good at it while other children her age barely know how to count. So I guess she imagined that friend as an explanation to her extraordinary talent. That friend and the many others... Such a sweet child though, such imagination is evidence of a great talent. She can also sing and draw and she’s only 7! I feel like there is nothing she can’t do! She is still so innocent though, so pure... She has a bright future ahead of her I can assure you that!”

Officer Hart could not get his hand off his mouth. He listened to the whole testimony and did not know what to reply to this. He never had to deal with that kind of behaviour before and he felt that was above him. The only thing he could do was to be honest, so he said:

“Sofia doesn’t have a bright future ahead. She doesn’t have a future at all. She’s dead. Your daughter’s dead! She was killed, 10 years ago damn it! Don’t you remember?”

“Nonsense”, replies the woman. “10 years ago she wasn’t even born you foolish man! What is that? Some kind of sick joke? If you are here to talk ill of my daughter I will ask you to leave right now!”

“I am not leaving, Mrs Snow, I am here investigating your daughter’s murder. I know it has been a long time but the case has been reopened as there are new leads on her murderer’s identity. But I will need you to cooperate, I need your help. Shake some sense into you, for heaven’s sake!”

The officer sighed in desperation as he left his cup of tea on the table. Mrs Snow looked angry. She did not seem to understand what was going on. A bewildered look on her face, she replied to the investigator:

“Officer Hart, I don’t know what you’re up to here, but I assure you my daughter is very well alive. Why she’s the one who prepared the sweet tea we are drinking right now, just before your arrival! She’s in her bedroom at the moment, probably playing with Mr M. Follow me I’ll show you!”

And as she says that, she rised from her chair and headed straight to a door on the first floor. Hart sighed and followed her. He would play her game for now, what better could he do anyway? The woman clearly never survived the shock of losing her daughter. She belongs in an asylum, he thought to himself as he followed her. Mrs Snow pushed the door. To Hart’s surprise, the door opened on a children’s bedroom, a chair back to both Hart and Snow on which was sitting a little girl facing a window.

“Who is that?” Asked a puzzled Hart.

“My daughter, Sofia, of course!” replied Mrs Snow.

Hart did not understand. He knew for a fact Sofia was dead and he also knew Snow never had any other child. So who was that little girl sitting on that chair?

“Hello Sofia, I’m officer Hart from the police. May I speak with you?” Asked Hart, still playing Snow’s game.

No reply. The girl did not move an inch, she did not even turn her head to look at them. She seemed completely absorbed by what she was seeing through that window because she was not moving her head from it. Actually she was not moving. Not at all.

“She’s very shy”, said Snow. “Dear Sofia, come say hi to officer Hart, darling!”

Still no reply. Hart started to find this really suspicious and decided to go in the bedroom to have a closer look at that little girl, to see if he could recognize her face. Snow stayed behind. The officer got close to the little girl and what he saw made him jump in terror. Her face, he recognized it. It was Sofia indeed, but her face was dead. Her body was completely stiff. Her skin was not human anymore and her eyes were glass balls. It was Sofia’s body indeed, but she was not alive at all. Her body had been naturalized, just like taxidermists do with animals. What a horrible sight to behold. That explained why the body never had been found. Hart was terrified at Snow’s sickness; she had embalmed her own daughter and thought she was still alive. He started feeling groggy and he thought at first it was because of the grim find. But he quickly realized that was not the problem. His vision started to go blank and he collapsed on the floor... The tea... She had drugged him.

“Oh, feeling tired officer Hart? Let me help you” said Mrs Snow as she grabbed the unconscious man’s body by the feet and dragged him downstairs. She dragged him all the way down to her basement, where she put him on what looked like an operating table. She turned the lights on. The room was quite large. Half of it was occupied by the operating table and by taxidermy tools. The other half held what looked like a gigantic dollhouse. Mrs Snow walked to it and opened its door. Inside, there were dozens of naturalized human bodies, just like Sofia’s. They were all girls, most of them children and amongst them, two grown women. They were all dressed up in princess dresses and other children costumes and were wearing a great amount of makeup on their dead faces. Mrs Snow looked in her dollhouse as to make sure everything was in order, smiled and shut the door close. She then turned her head to an empty chair sitting close to the dollhouse. She smiled and started talking to it:

“Hello Mr. M.! How are you today? You are going to be happy! I have brought you something new, a fine specimen at that! He will make a nice new toy for you to play with when I’m done with him! And a boy at that! You never had a boy doll before, have you? I’ll make one for you just now honey, you’ll just have to be a bit more patient! He’ll make a very nice boy toy for you to play with. Yes, very nice indeed! I better get to work if you want your new toy soon! Mommy likes to make you happy, my sweet Mr. M.!”

She gave the empty chair a warm smile, and headed back to the operating table. She grabbed a surgical knife and started undressing the unconscious officer Hart. She would have a lot of work to do to make him a perfect doll. The night would be long.

***

(C) Copyright 2014 Hope Alexander aka David Giroux for the text

100TC #5 - Break Away

Hello everyone, here is my fifth entry for the 100 Themes writing challenge. I know I am late and I did not respect the one post a day last week and I am very sorry for it. But now I am on summer break until september and so I will have time to post a lot more so please expect a new text every day from now on, I will try to respect it as much as I can :) Anyway, I will not make you wait any longer, so here is today's short story based on the theme "Break Away". Enjoy! 

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- BREAK AWAY -

6:00 AM

6:00 in the morning. So early to wake up, she thinks as she makes her way to her bathroom. Half-asleep, she gets in the shower. The warm water caresses her skin, making her think about the warmth of her bed to which she would gladly go back to. She stays in the shower for a while... too long of a while actually. Realizing she is late, she quickly gets out of it, grabs a towel and does a fast prep; no time to get her full make up on this morning, sadly. While she looks at the mirror, a strange feeling bothers her. It feels like the one she is looking at, is not her. It feels like, through the mirror, it is someone else glancing back at her and not herself. Probably the lack of sleep, she thinks, not having time to worry about pointless philosophical questions like “who’s on the other side of the mirror?” Being late as she is, she does not take time to eat her breakfast and leaves for work straight away. Her day goes as usual, nothing new, just the same old everyday routine. After her work shift she comes back home and exhausted, falls on the couch. She wished she had someone to come back home to, alas, a couple of weeks ago she had found her beloved boyfriend in bed with none other than her brother. She felt so betrayed, by the man she trusted with all her heart and by her family, both at the same time. Her ex and she were to get married not long ago and this obviously put a bitter end to their plans. And so she was now living alone, going through her every day routine, doing the same and coming back home at the end of her days to find herself alone. Everyone told her things would get better, that she had to be strong. But she is tired of playing strong, she is tired of this life, it is as if her dreams, her world had collapsed in one night. Every day she wishes she could break away from this life and start a new one, somewhere far away where she would not be constantly reminded of all she had lost. But all she could do right now is go on and wait. After a lonely evening, she goes to bed, feeling her cold bed is way too large for someone alone.

6:00 in the morning. Her alarm sets off and all she wants to do is to pick it up and throw it against the wall. She really could not be bothered about going to work today. It would be the same as always, not that she hated her job, but she had no real interest in it. She feels like staying in bed, sleeping her dark thoughts away. But she knows she cannot do this and so with a superhuman effort she leaves her cozy bed to get to the bathroom. Half-asleep, she gets in the shower. The warm water caresses her skin, making her think about the warmth of her bed to which she would gladly go back to. She stays in the shower for a while... too long of a while actually. Realizing she is late, she quickly gets out of it, grabs a towel and does a fast prep; no time to get her full make up on this morning, sadly. She takes a quick look at the mirror to see if she is presentable. The condensation in the mirror prevents her to see clearly, but she still has that strange feeling when she looks at herself. The woman on the other side of the mirror seems so different, as if she is gazing at someone else... but whom? No time to worry about that, she is way too late. She does not take time to eat her breakfast and leaves for work straight away. Her day goes as usual, nothing new, just the same old routine. After her work shift, she comes back home and exhausted, falls on the couch. “Always the same old boring shit”, she thinks to herself as she browses the TV channels. With nothing to do, she decides to go to bed. She feels exhausted not only physically, but mentally, and she thinks to herself an early night would do her good. Even then, she cannot fall asleep and the night feels like it will never end.

6:00 in the morning. Her alarm sets off. She wants to snooze it, but knows how late she always is so she gets out of bed as quick as she can and heads straight to her bathroom. Half-asleep, she gets in the shower. The warm water caresses her skin, making her think about the warmth of her bed to which she would gladly go back to. She stays in the shower for a while... too long of a while actually. Realizing she is late, she quickly gets out of it, grabs a towel an does a fast prep; not time to get her full make up on this morning, sadly. While doing her hair, she has a strange feeling, as if she is being watched. Her mirror is covered in condensation so she cannot fully see, but what is on the other side is clearly not her. She grabs her tower and starts rubbing it against the mirror. When she is done, she screams at what she sees. The woman on the other side of the mirror does not scream back, she stays there, cold, standing still. She does not understand who it is. How could she see a different reflection on the other side, how is that even possible? She asks herself is she is even awake, but she knows for a fact that she is. The woman on the other side of the mirror looks dead. She looks like her, but 50 years older. Her skin is wrinkled and dry, her hair grey, her eyes glassy. Around her neck is tied a rope, of which she could not see the end. The girl closes her eyes in terror. When she opens them, what she sees in the mirror is her reflection, the reflection of her normal self.

She very well knows what all of this means. Is it her brain sending her a message? Or some spirits? It does not matter, she got the message. She needs to break free from this life. This daily routine is not bringing her anything good. Every day is the same and every single second she spends here only reminds her of how miserable she is and of the past times she will never get back. Idleness is Death, that is what she got from the woman in the mirror. She needs to do something about it, she knows it. She needs to leave this life which cannot bring her anything good anymore. What she needs is a new life, far from here, very far, if she does not want to end like the image of death she had seen. She would not be going to work today. Not today, not ever again. She packs a small suitcase, takes her car and drives to the airport. She does not care about leaving everything behind, there is nothing left for her here. And so she books tickets for the country she had always dreamed of going to. She would worry about the consequences later, for now she is just moving away. A new life is waiting for her. A fresh start, far from all the bad memories. Waiting at the airport, a warm feeling shakes her whole soul. Hearing the boarding announcement, she smiles. 

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(C) Copyright 2014 Hope Alexander aka David Giroux for the text

Source for the picture unknown

100TC #4 - Seeking Solace

Day four of the 100 Themes writing challenge. Today's theme, Seeking Solace, might take an unexpected turn ;) Enjoy :)

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- SEEKING SOLACE -

A Game of Chess

“Tis not easy being the Queen. Everyone thinks I am living a life of glamour and luxury, bathing in gold and filling my stomach with the most delectable dishes this land has ever borne. Well of course, there is some of that indeed. What do you think I do with all those taxes collected from that insignificant mass of illiterate imbeciles? Of course I ask for more than I need, that is one of the perks of being the Queen. But who would not do that being in my stead? Everyone would do the same of course. Luxury, gold, infinite wealth, those are only distractions, they are meaningless. ‘Tis just the natural order of things, to have those peasants build my wealth, that is just how the world has always worked and that is how it will keep working. There are some people who are born to rule, and some who are born to work for us.

All of this is of no consequence to me indeed. As I was saying - and don’t you dare interrupt me again - ‘tis not easy being the Queen. Yes I bathe in gold but that does not mean I have an easy life. There are so many... annoyances to deal with. Nuisances, crawling in every nook and cranny of my kingdom only there to conspire on making my life a nightmare. For example, having to deal with the boring problems of those pesky peasants. Erg, only to think of it makes me sick. They come here all the time, seeking audience with me... seeking solace. It is pathetic. I know not what they want of me. I am Queen; do you really think I have time to deal with the insignificant problems of that pack of ignorant fools? I have FAR better things to do. Queen things! ... - WHAT IS IT AGAIN?! -”

The poor ink-bird was tired. The scribe was using the poor little creature, under order from the Queen, to write down everything she was saying. Only the ink-bird, who is used like a living pen by the nobility for the ink it produces from its beak, had become so tired he just collapsed on the shiny floor. The scribe left a squeak, hence the Queen’s reaction. She did not like being interrupted. He very well knew what that meant.

“OFF WITH HIS HEAD!!!”

The Queen’s guards always had axes at the ready, for they were aware of her penchant for... beheadings. And so very swiftly the Queen’s order was executed, as she watched with delight.

“Oh well... Guess I need a new scribe now. BRING ME A NEW SCRIBE! Let us just hope this one won’t dare interrupt my tantalizing tale again.” She sighed of a very deep sigh, “as I was saying, ‘tis not easy being the Queen.” 

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Art by John Tenniel

(C) Copyright 2014 Hope Alexander aka David Giroux for the text

100TC #3 - Dark

Now for the daily 100 Themes writing challenge text, I have decided to go with a short story this time. One that is based on a dream I had that has left a strong impression on me. Please enjoy, for today's theme is one of my favourites : Dark

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- DARK -

They came with the rain

The night was pitch black, no trace of light to be seen, apart from the faint, eerie glowing of the lights of the city dead. Such an immense town, once full of life; memories of a past long gone. Still in the dead of night the street and building lights would light up, as if there was still life in this here town. But there was none. It was all but a reminder of the life that once was there; a reminder of what we had lost, never to come back. There was only a few of us left, not enough to give any sense to those glowing lights though. And so here I was, running through the empty streets of this colossal town in the dead of night with only the faint dead light of the once-living buildings to guide me. I had to make it there fast, before it was too late. There was barely any hope left, but I would give my everything, I would give my last breath to save them. They are the world to me and there is nothing I have ever held dearest; my beloved wife and my baby daughter. We were separated but there is still hope. I can make it to them before it is too late. I can and I will, I know it. 

And so for what seemed like hours I run. I run. I never stop, in the dark I run without taking even the fragment of a second to catch my breath. I run until I reach it. This is it, this building, it is there, still lit as if it was inhabited. I make my way in. This place was once a prestigious hotel and inside, it still looks as if it would have been in business only yesterday. Everything happened so quickly, things did not have time to change really. Everything is still there, unchanged, as if time stopped itself. As if the Earth got rid of its inhabitants in the blink of an eye. Which is, come to think of it, pretty much what happened. I prayed to the gods the elevator still worked, and to my relief it does. 

So I make my way to the highest floor from which I then climb to the roof. And here I am, on the roof of one of the tallest buildings of this once great and lively city. I take a quick glance, but cannot find them. That is where they should have been, my wife and daughter. Where were they??? I start running around, trying to find them, screaming their names, when finally I hear her voice. My beautiful wife’s voice, screaming my name in return. I turn around to realize where she is. She is in front of me, on the roof too... but onto the next building. She is there, smiling at me, our daughter in her arms. There is this huge gap between us, for I am in the wrong building. Yet I am so happy to see her, finally, we are back together. She is not that far, I can almost reach her. I scream at her to stay where she is and tell her I will come as quick as I can. We exchange a smile, my heart feels so warm. We have been separated for ever so long, I did not even think I would see them again. I know I have to make it to them as fast as I can, but I cannot stop myself for admiring them. The smile on my wife’s face is the greatest treasure I could wish for. 

I am soon awoken from my reverie. I could see the look on my wife’s face change from a smile to a startled expression. What is going on? What is that cold sting I feel on my head? One more on my face? Oh dear lord... please... not this... I move my hand up to my cheek, only to realize it is... rain. Cold rain... They come with the rain. I move my eyes back up from my hand to my wife and daughter... only to realize they are not alone anymore. Here it is, right above my loves. That... creature. Gigantic, its dark wings open wider than the length of the street. Its crooked body bent over my wife, grasping her in whatever matter of claw it has. Its monstrous face glaring at me with a grin that sends the worst chill down my spine. Its wings closed. I can hear my wife and daughter’s screams fading into the distance... I am too late. They had come with the rain. And now they are there for me as well. 

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Art by H.R. Giger

(C) Copyright 2014 Hope Alexander aka David Giroux for the text

100TC #2 - Light

So far so good, I start well by keeping the pace of one text a day, I can do it ;) If you do not know what I am on about, this is the second text of the 100 Themes writing challenge! Today's theme is Light. Instead of going with a rather metaphysical text like I did yesterday, this one is more of a short story. I hope you enjoy :)

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- LIGHT - 

Getting Closer

How long has it been since I have last seen the light? I cannot remember. Weeks? Months? Years? It is like time has lost its meaning. Without light there is no time. Ironic though it is to think that where I am, I am amongst the lights themselves, closer to them than any human has ever been before. Yet it is so cold and it is as if in the immensity of space the light loses all its radiance. I can see them shine, far in the distance even though I am getting closer. Getting closer, yet still so insanely far. It is as if, the closer you get, the farther you realize you are. There is no reaching the light. Many have tried, all have failed, and it is how it shall be ‘til the very end of time itself; there is no reaching what is unreachable. I have come to realize it now. Too late it is, yes, but at least now I know. By trying to pursue my dream, I have found doom and loneliness. I have tried so hard to get what I wanted, too hard, and it is what has taken it away from me. My days are ending, for I am drifting alone - a loneliness I have brought upon myself - without any chance of rescue. Who would find me here, in this life-forsaken infinite space? On my final days I realize that I have been foolish and that I am not a god, only a man. I should feel sad, I should feel broken, destroyed. Yet, I feel... serene. I have not achieved my dream, though I end up living my last days where most men will not ever find themselves. And now I know that there is no reaching the divine light. It is part of a realm that exists, that has always existed. I can see why our ancestors, and still the simple-minded people of our time, worshipped them as deities. It is for the fact that even if the light is unreachable, it is there so powerful it can burn us, yet there is no getting close to it. It is when you are where I am that you realize that all you have learned does not make any damned sense. I have believed in science as they believed in their petty idols. Turns out I was just as wrong as them. It matters not now, not anymore. I just hope the infinite light will offer me the beautiful Death I always wanted...

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Art : Odilon Redon - L'oeil comme un ballon étrange se dirige vers l'infini - 1878

(C) Copyright 2014 Hope Alexander aka David Giroux for the text

100TC #1 - Love

Here is the first text from the 100 Themes Challenge, starting with the theme Love. I hope you enjoy and please let me know your thoughts :) 

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- LOVE -

There is but one truth. We live in a sea of lies. We think we can see, yet what the light sines on is but a series of beautiful deceptions. We think we know. We do not. Everything is an illusion. Whatever we take for granted, it is what slips away first. To find the truth, some will give their lives, walk until they reach the end of the world. A vain effort it is. The heart knows. Some feel, some do not. Full or broken, it is only what we have made out of it. Another deception I am afraid. If the heart knows, then why cannot we? The feelings of the heart, do they exist really? What is our human shell trying to tell us? There is one force that has driven mankind to madness. If control is lost, then love overflows. It is the only truth, one that can as well be deceptive. The line between truth and lies in itself is a lie. If you love, you die. And if you die, you know. 

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(C) Copyright 2014 Hope Alexander aka David Giroux for the text