The Undying Sloth

A Poem For Lust

Set your gaze upon me

And see what you desire

Feel your limbs grow hungry

As your eyes play and conspire

Do you feel the heat rising?

Do you feel your pulse aching?

Can you hear your body scream

As you drift away in daydream

You sold your soul to taste and admire

Without realizing you’ll only embrace hellfire

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The Enigmatic Monster Project

The Mirror

Throw your woes into the mirror

Teary eyes and laughter

Tell me what you want to hear

The things that you admire

Don’t forget to balm your fear

With softly spoken words sincere

Paste an image crystal clear

And try your best to endear

Throw your sadness into the mirror

As you struggle to find an answer

Scream for the image to re-appear

As you feed this hungry fervor

Sculpt an image, try and conjure

The lies that give you closure

I’ll reflect the image of your ire

As you kill yourself for petty desire

These Words, story and art by P.L. Cobb

Blood Between the Sheets

A couple moved in time with one another, their passionate groans calling out in eager whimpering pleas. As they twisted in the sheets, a subtle yet assertive knock sounded at the door.

“Who’s that?” The man stopped and pulled himself back. She could see the nervous tension racing through him. He was young even by her standards, but she was still in accordance with mortal law. 18 human years was adult enough. Far older than a few hundred years ago.

She shushed him, and drew him close. “Pay it no mind baby,” the woman crooned as she traced a line down his muscular chest. She always enjoyed a fair amount of muscle. He relaxed and bent in with a sloppy kiss, his hips shifting forward.

The knock came again, this time it was no longer subtle. It was demanding.

He moved up and off of her, alert with nervous tension and the undercurrent of anger. Poor things get frustrated oh so easy! The woman sighed and turned so that she faced the door propping her head on her hand. She didn’t bother covering herself with the sheet. Naked, her young lover answered the door in an angry huff. Obviously proud of himself. A man stood on the other side, tall and muscular. She felt flush, seeing him, as her eyes traced downward. Her lover’s chest puffed out. “What’s the problem man!” He barked, leaning forward. Despite being tall himself the man on the other side was still a head taller. Looking down at the boy before him the man smiled, before looking to woman in the bed. She gave a flirty wave.

“You were suppose to be ready to leave a half hour ago.”

She shrugged caressing her waist. “I was craving something–” she paused, glancing at her lover who was looking a bit angry at the sudden twist “–big.” She finished with a smile.

The man smiled, and caught the eyes of her lover, before looking downward. The young lover stepped back under the sudden hungry gaze. “Finish up here, Luce” he told her, smiling again at her lover. “She always finds the pretty ones” he murmured before shutting the door behind him.

Sitting up Luce positioned herself seductively. Invitingly. As her lover turned back to her. She could tell they had lost the mood. She pouted to herself. Well, that wouldn’t do. “I think I better go.” He mentioned grabbing his underwear from the floor. “I don’t want to intrude in whatever that was.”

Luce gave a little laugh. “Vee? Pay him no mind. He’s the perpetual jealous type. But hardly a good tumble between the sheets.” He stared at her. She could tell he was sitting on the precipice. She could feel it. Part of him wished to leave at once, while deep inside his burning lust ignited as he traced her body with his mind. She just need a final push. Standing up she walked over to him and pressed her breasts against him. “Don’t go.” She whimpered, kissing below his jaw. He shivered and she could feel his resistance fade as a hardness shifted below. Luce smiled and pulled him downward to kiss him. He complied, the heat returning to his body. She grinned, as he pulled her closer, the hungry carnal heat retaking him. It would do her no good to be on edge. Oh no, she liked to savor the heat of the moment.

She gave a slight moan as she felt his arms lift her, making a quick transition to the bed. As he shifted below her, ready to continue their previous romp, she stopped him with a suggestive grin. “Let me be on top.” He gave a wolfish grin and pulled her onto him. She let out a soft moan of pleasure. Tracing his muscular chest, feeling the strong beat beneath, she gave in to his proddings. She smiled at him through heavy eyes as he moved his own hands up her trembling body. Eager to explore, his hunger burning deep inside him.

Oh he was ready, she could feel it. Nothing was better than the heat of desire burning out conscious reason. With her right hand still on his chest, she reached up with her left, playfully covering his mouth. “Don’t scream too loud.” She purred at him.

He looked at her confused, but Luce smiled wickedly. He grinned himself, his own thoughts bringing delicious fruit.

Oh, but not his kind of fruit!

In one swift motion her left hand clamped over his mouth while her right tore into his flesh, boring into his ribs with a deafening snap. She groped a moment in his chest cavity until she felt the warm thick pulse of his heart. Her lover screamed in agony beneath the supernatural strength of her hands, but she would not allow him to move. Oh no, she was looking forward to this. His cry soon ended.

She carefully pulled an enlarged heart from his chest and gazed at it lovingly. Oh yes, she was definitely hungry for something big. Luce looked at the man beneath her, a ragged hole in his chest. He had no idea. Cardiomyopathy was genetic after all. She leaned forward and brushed her lips against his before pulling herself off of him. “Thanks for the lovely Valentine.” She smiled and then bit into the heart like an apple.

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False Promise

A world of promise lays its trap

A flower of beauty to behold and unwrap

Of dreams that entice, transfix and ensnare

Something to catch, our victory to declare

A world of promise is all but lies

A harrowing nightmare with a beautiful disguise

Of dreams that dangle just out of reach

As the world devours us lost from beneath

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Lust: A Firestorm

Lust as a topic never ends.

(Feed the fire, Primadonna!)

Ripe with generous dividends.

(Flames licking, fire tickling.)

Someone always suffers in the end.

(Self-loving, vain, narcissistic fire.)

Betrayed by a would-be friend.

(Her addiction to violence: insufferable!)

A special kind of storm she brews–one to tear and rend

(She won’t stop, can’t stop, GAWD, she loves it!)

For this occasion, she’ll conjure up a love-starved vortex . . . What a pleasant gift to send!

(The witch has made up her mind; someone’s gonna die.)

A ‘demon wind tunnel’ she’ll call it. For a special friend . . .

(Primadonna sorceress: mess her up, and she’ll mess right back!)

She’ll add a touch of fire–her specialty–fire without end.

(Tickle, tickle, the flames will go; when the food’s gone, the flame shall move on.)

Lust: Both Noun and Verb



1 his lust for her: sexual desire, sexual appetite, sexual longing, ardor, desire, passion; libido, sex drive, sexuality, biological urge; lechery, lasciviousness, concupiscence; informal horniness, the hots, randiness.

2 a lust for power: greed, desire, craving, covetousness, eagerness, avidity, cupidity, longing, yearning, hunger, thirst, appetite, hankering. ANTONYMS aversion.


1 he lusted after his employer’s wife: desire, be consumed with desire for, find sexually attractive, crave, covet, ache for, burn for; informal have the hots for, fancy, have a thing about/for, drool over.

2 she lusted after adventure: crave, desire, covet, want, wish for, long for, yearn for, dream of, hanker for, hanker after, hunger for, thirst for, ache for. ANTONYMS dread, avoid.

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2017/2018 Outline

Baby, Baby, Baby

Baby, Baby, Baby

Baby, Baby, Baby

Love me like you want to see me die.

Lately baby,

I’ve been feeling like a fiend oh I–

Must confess that I’ve

Been hating on you

Baby, baby, baby

Fill me up and empty

Me and

Leave me

To die

And I’ll

See you

Maybe when you die.

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No Retribution, No Honour, No Mercy


Retribution for the grave robber


Honour for the father of the defiler


Vengeance for the son of the pigs

No Mercy for the man

From the clan

That killed our brothers, our sisters, our mothers . . .

Nothing for the rich swine

Let them drink the poisoned wine . . .

Let them eat the garbage

Let them waste away in their luxury–their shit

Bury them all in their stronghold.

These are the dying lands.


These are the dying lands.

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Lust: A Timely Topic

Lust: a timely topic for the rest of this year, not just for the month of February. In this ‘essay’, unfinished and unpolished, I have a few things to say. Some are said in rhyme.

What’s the crime?

Lust, goes well with sexual desire, but keep that from a man and you’ve just lit a fire. With every denial henceforth you’ll just be stoking the flames, raking the coals, preparing a nice hot inferno–right under your ass! And the funny thing is, you’re not to blame!*

But don’t tell him that. He’ll call you a liar.

Repressed sexuality seeks release in power, just the right size for a pair of small hands. Absolute power corrupts absolutely, but what if the grape was already sour? The apple pre-rotted?

His demands for fairness and equality sound sweet, but beneath the veil he’s not quite well in the head. Power is not enough. But what could possibly fill the void?

When is a man without a soul not like a gaping hole?

Maybe when he cuts a hole where his heart should be, and fills it full of feces, maybe then he’ll be a real boy. If there is a heart underneath that cold exterior we could kick it around like a football, treat it like a child’s toy! How drole that would be!

Who said we were any better than our fellow citizens? We’re monsters, built from children’s teeth; parading about in our human suits. You’re so close to us you should be burning.

If that, my friend, is not a show of real power, then I’ve got little else to say . . .

*As if you could force someone to feel something. If you could they wouldn’t be screaming. You would. At them. And they’d be the ones feeling sorry for themselves!

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After Hours

With a shaky inhale she grasped the wall looking for support. There were some things that humans were just not meant to witness.  Swallowing hard she couldn’t believe what she just saw. No … This had to be some kind of sick prank … It wasn’t real. Closing her eyes tightly she tried to block out the images that came flooding back in her mind. Her heart began racing again. No, this couldn’t be happening. She had to call the police! They would know what to do! Wouldn’t they? What would happen if they didn’t believe her? What would happen if they took too long to get here and he had cleaned up the mess in his office?

Jill reached in her pocket for her phone. She didn’t have it! It was stuck in her purse, which was back in his office, along with her car keys and everything she held dear. Her mother’s voice whispered in her brain … Only the gifted are selected. We come from a long line of protectors. It’s our job to protect the world from demons. Demons? What about psychotic bosses who decided to go on murderous rampages? He wasn’t a demon, but he was a murder.

A loud scraping sound sent a shiver crawling up her spine. He was close. He was going to find her! She had done everything for him. She was his cheerleader. She had followed him around like a lovesick puppy! She wanted to have a relationship with that monster! He was a monster. Jilly knew she had to get out of the building. They were the only two people left here. She just had to get pass him and then run … Run like her life depended on it because it did!

Jill Ombright worked for Frank Gelworth for the last five years. She watched him as he rose in the ranks from intern to upper management in one year. She had been thrilled when she was hired to be his assistant. Jill always felt like there was chemistry between them. It was only recently that she was beginning to see what a leach Frank could be. He was her boss and took credit for her work at every turn. He had her work late all the time and she was more than happy to take on his workload. She was a fool. Never in a million years she would have thought he was crazy. Lazy at times but not crazy!

“Think Jilly … Think,” she whispered to herself. She had to get out and get away from him. Once she got outside she could hopefully find someone who had a phone and call 911. He couldn’t get rid of that mess so quickly. He couldn’t even wipe his desk off when he spilled coffee he would call her in to do it. No, he was crazy but there was no way he could get rid of that mess. There was so much blood everywhere. They had specialists that could find blood even after someone cleaned up a crime scene. Her stomach lurch at the thought, covering her mouth with a hand; she couldn’t afford to get sick here. He would surely hear her and then she would be like the very nice security guard Mike Black. No, she couldn’t risk it! Trying to focus her attention on something else. Laundry–she had a basket full of dirty clothes and if she didn’t get out of here they wouldn’t get done. Her family would come in her home and find a basket full of laundry.

Swallowing hard she peeked around the corner and saw that it was empty. Where did he go?  The stairs were less than three feet from her. If she made it to the stairs and got down to the lobby surely she could get out the front door! The throb of blood pulsing in her ears was making it really hard to hear. Holding her breath she decided to just make a break for it.

Keeping low she raced for the stairwell and as she was reaching for the handle Frank swung his ax at her hand nearly cutting into her skin. Yelping she jumped backwards and stared at it wide eyed. Willing her legs to move she was paralyzed and was finding it hard just to breathe.

“Jilly … Jill, I didn’t give you permission to leave work early.”

Her eyes drifted to his face. He looked the same as always. This just had to be some kind of dream … A nightmare. This couldn’t be happening in real life.

He reached out and put his free arm around her and guided her back to his office. Jill thought she was going to have a heart attack along the way. She wasn’t spared the torture of seeing the remains of Mike lying on the floor in a rich warm red pool of his own blood. She opened her mouth to plead for her life but nothing came out.

“Jill I don’t know what you thought you saw here tonight but I assure you it was nothing.”

She couldn’t take her eyes off Mike.

“Jill, I’m talking to you.”

Swallowing she felt herself hyperventilate. He came over and stood between her and Mike and all she saw was his face. He seemed full of concern.

“Jill can you hear me?”

She opened her mouth again … Gasping.

“Jill you need to calm down. You’re going to kill yourself.”

Her head began pounding clutching his arms for support she couldn’t look at him. Air she needed air. Then everything went dark.

Her eyes fluttered open and she forgot where she was at first. Then it all came flooding back. Her eyes went to the spot where Mike’s dead body had laid. He wasn’t there! The place looked clean! What? How?

“Jilly,” Frank came over to her quickly holding a glass of cold water out to her. “Here drink this” His voice soft and full of concern. Kindness, he was showing her kindness.

“But … But …. Where is … I saw …,” she stammered.

“What is it Jilly?”

“Hey you two still here?” Mike poked his head in.

Jill’s eyes went wide … He was alive! How?

“Hey Mike, yes we’re just wrapping up.”

“Jill are you okay?”

She nodded.

“She passed out.”

“Would you like me to call the paramedics?”

“No,” she shook her head slowly as she sat up. She was sitting on Frank’s sofa. Grabbing her head she closed her eyes. What the hell, did she have a nightmare? A vision? Her mother did warn her that seeing their own deaths ran in the family. Could that have been a vision?

Mike came in the office and rested his hand on her shoulder. “Are you going to be alright Jill?”

She looked up at him and felt her stomach lurched as his eyes were glowing red. Looking over at Frank she saw his eyes were glowing purple. She was suffering a delusion or something.

“I think I’ll be fine I’m just going to go now.” She got up.

“That might be a good idea.” Mike patted her on the shoulder.

“It’s on bitch,” Frank growled.

“I think we should get Jilly out of here first,” Mike snarled.

“Yes, let’s get Jilly out of here first,” she whispered. Her heart began to race as she remembered this was how her vision had unfolded. It wasn’t that Frank was a monster … Mike was one too. She was supposed to be a monster slayer of sorts but she just didn’t believe her mother. Jill wished she had taken her mother more seriously. Just like in her vision she made a break for the door just as Frank attacked Mike with an axe! She was as good as dead. The visions are a blessing and a curse but they are never changing, as her mother’s words whispered in her mind she raced for her life.

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Bleak Possibilities

The future is bleak

A long road into the night

Sitting on a losing streak

A dying flame, wanting to ignite

Burdened by the past

Troubled by the future

Stuck in an arid forecast

In a place of no winter

A long descent into sorrow

Into the shadows of the night

Days are shorter; no hope in tomorrow

A dying flame struggling to fight

Straining to see a ray of hope

When a blackened world gives no quarter

When the world consists of chain and rope

The future is truly bleak; with little promise to recover

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Multiple Choice # 1

1: What happened to all of your life-long dreams?
a: My dreams became my enemy.
b: I realized that I hold a lot of self loathing.
c: The universe is vast and uncaring, so why bother?

2: How could you have given up so easily?
a: Because I didn’t, you just stopped paying attention.
b: I’m tired of this drudgery. You have no idea.
c: You didn’t care when I just did the damn thing. It’s all your fault.

3: Why do you always leave work unfinished?
a: You are my enemy, but you are not my life-long dream.
b: I am a heathen–we heathens always leave work undone.
c: This place has swallowed my soul. It has swallowed me whole.

4: Where were you when you lost that fire?
a: I’ve been dead for countless eons.
b: In a small, backwards place, filled with many small, backwards people.
c: Far, far away from you. As it should have been, now and always.

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I once was happy so many years ago

From dawn till dusk I had a smile in tow

Those years of enmity seemed but distant memories

A remnant of the past, water behind the levees

Now it seems cracks have begun to form

Too many waves from too many storms

I hold on to my foothold high above the sea

The groan of the levees call: its fortuitous plea

I gaze above; my freedom in my climb

While the waves below echo darkened rhymes

My past is haunting me, wanting its return

A remnant to made whole, where resentment can burn

All will come crashing down if the levee finally breaks

Will I reach the top or will the torrents overtake

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Fiendish foe, I do not hear
Begone, do not come near
I shall not sigh nor yawn nor doze
Or evoke your name when you are close
I will not tire nor will I yield
I know your motives, your agenda revealed

“Silly mortal, in your haste
Have you forgotten we’ve already embraced
Can you no longer see?
You’ve long been a victim of your own body”

Hush demon, you speak in lies
You can not hide nor disguise
The truths that lay open, beneath my eyes
For you will not claim what it is you prize

“Mortal look. You stand so still
Your strength is rigid and unstable
By becoming one with your conviction
You’ve granted me a bitter sanction
In blatant fervor did you falter
By throwing yourself upon your alter
Open your eyes, the truth is free
You’ve imprisoned yourself, to flee from me”

No. No, this must not be
I loathe to accept this possibility

“Accept it now or wallow in doubt
Truth is harsh and often tantamount
I am Sloth, the fiend of Stagnation
By remaining constant you granted me admission”

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Anna poured herself another glass of wine. Sitting at the kitchen island she was turned to the hallway. There was a mirror hung on the wall and her reflection watched her every move. She eyed the beautiful woman staring back at her. She didn’t remember putting the mirror up. Did Ken do that for her? Poor Ken, he just didn’t understand that pretty people didn’t really have to do anything in this world except let others worship their beauty. Ken her newest boyfriend … Rich, not so handsome, but very doting. He followed her around and did whatever she asked. Up until an hour ago when he left in a huff.

What did he mean by that, ‘What will happen to you when your beauty fades and all you have left is your inner beauty for the world to see?’ She didn’t like it. Not for a minute. How dare he implied that she could lose her beauty. Plain people always used that inner beauty crap as a weapon of choice. They liked to refer to it as if it was something special. Use it as a sledgehammer of sorts in a verbal argument. She paused at the thought … Verbal argument? Sure that was a thing, wasn’t it? Humph … Plain people were not special, they were just there for people like her, to take care of the beautiful people. They were lucky to be graced with such a task.

She sniffed and sipped her wine. Anna felt like she might have a cold coming on. Ken was a dear and did buy her this delicious bottle of red wine … Wine was made from grapes and that was fruit. Fruit was good to have when you might be coming down with something, her mother would always say that. Picking up the bottle and her glass she headed off to the living room and sat down on the sofa. Kicking her feet up she turned on the TV and surfed channels as she continued to sip at her glass.

If Ken didn’t come back to make her dinner she would have to order out. What a shame after they went shopping that he would make her waste their money like that. Anna finally found a fashion show on. Checking out the latest buys she marvelled that she had already had purchased a couple of those outfits last week. Yes, she was on top of it all. Ken and people like Ken just didn’t know how much work it took to look so beautiful. She had to make hair appointments, shop, beauty spas, make up … The list was just too great. No, he had no idea and there was just no way to convey this information to him. Ugly and normal people had it made. Really they did, all they had to do was work for a living. Her tummy growled.

Well, that just settled it. Shame on him for not getting back here to make her food. Now she had to get up and get her cell phone and call for take out. She felt the stress of the burden mounting within her. Anna reminded herself that she really should book an appointment for the spa tomorrow. Stress caused wrinkles and this mad man was making her stress. Ken would just have to pay for that too, after all he should be here for her. Where was he anyways?

Anna took five minutes to hunt down her cell phone and dropped back into the sofa feeling like she just went through a work out. She quickly ordered the usual from her favourite French restaurant, and they would be there within forty-five minutes. Forty-five minutes! Ken was really going to hear about this when he returned.

Anna thought she heard something … Like something clawing at the wall? She was hearing a lot of weird noises lately. She turned the TV off and listened hard. No … No, there was nothing. Looking back at the TV she noticed her reflection was a little distorted. It looked like a shadow running across the room. She quickly turned around but there was nothing behind her. Nothing. Looking back at the TV her reflection looked distorted and very wrong. She didn’t look like herself at all. Flicking the TV on she got up and checked her reflection in the mirror.

Mirrors didn’t lie. Anna looked and saw her perfect reflection. Examining herself from every angle she felt pleased with what she saw. Then her reflection winked at her. Her mouth dropped open. Did she just wink at herself? Or did her reflection winkeat her?

She laughed, “oh Anna you’re being silly.”

Touching the cool mirror … it was solid and smooth. It was just a reflection. She stifled a yawn. Staring at herself for a few more minutes she was pleased that it was just a reflection and nothing more. Turning she slowly made her way back to the sofa and sat down. Putting her feet up she stretched. Watching another reality TV show made her feel feel sleepy and she drifted off.

As soon as her human host was in a deep sleep, the monster within woke up. Grinning she got up and peered at her human reflection. She did wink at the human earlier and was pleased that it made Anna a little uneasy. These fragile creatures were too easy for the taking. Especially the beautiful ones, ones that were vain, shallow and lazy. Perfect for the seizing.

The door opened and in came the human male who was called Ken.

“I’m sorry for earlier Anna,” he presented her with a large bouquet of flowers. Red roses … They were her favourites.

“You should be,” Anna walked out to the kitchen. Ken followed.

“I know you are beautiful on the inside as well as the outside.”

She paused and turned to him tilting her head. “Do you?”

He nodded.

“Am I?”

He nodded again. “I’m sorry.”

“I am sure you are,” she grinned. ‘Oh Anna, you do provide me with the best food,’ she thought to herself.

“Will you marry me?” Ken asked.

“Marry you?” she laughed.

“I’m sorry you’re right.” He got down on one knee and smiled broadly. “Anna, will you marry me?”

“Ken, there is something you should know,” she began laughing

“Anna?” he got up looked at her wondering how to react to her outburst.

She stopped laughing and walked over to him grinning. “Ken, I am going to keep you with me always.”

He smiled taking her response as a yes. Hugging her tightly he kissed her on the lips. She grabbed his head with her hands and held him to her face as she began sucking the soul and energy from his body.

She loved watching the eyes of her food as they realized the kiss was no longer a kiss. That there was something wrong … Something so very wrong going on. She was stronger than she appeared. He struggled to push her away with all his might but it wasn’t enough–she wasn’t human, for the most part she was but this part of her … The demon side wasn’t something the strongest human would want to mess with. His struggling turned frantic as the kicked and punched at her. She devoured him like a bowl of soup. When she was done … He was done. The life had left his eyes. The struggle left his limbs. He slumped, slowing to the floor … Lifeless on the cold white marble floor. Grinning she wiped her lips with the back of her hand.

Sighing with satisfaction of eating a good hearty meal she looked down at the body. The doorbell rang.

Anna felt her human side stirring at the sound. Waving her hand at the empty air near Ken’s lifeless body laying in a heap on the kitchen floor she opened a black portal and rolled him into it. Waving her hand again she closed the portal just as the doorbell rang and her human woke from her slumber. Stretching she yawned. Rubbed her stomach and looked around herself. How did she manage to get out into the kitchen? Sleep walking again? Flowers? Ken was back! Great!

The doorbell rang again. She hurried over to it. Opening the door she found the delivery guy smiling at her.

“Good evening miss Anna. You are looking good tonight.”

“I look good every night,” she snapped. She felt a little irritated and didn’t know why.

Handing him cash she took her dinner and closed the door. She took her food out to the kitchen and left it on the counter.

“Ken?” she shouted. “Ken are you here?”

Anna search for him but found only the flowers and an engagement ring he had left on the counter. Opening the bags up she pulled out her dinner. The food smelled delicious but suddenly she didn’t feel hungry anymore. Why didn’t she feel hungry? Where was Ken? What was taking him so long? He should be back by now.

She took her food into the living room and sat down. Flicking channels she found an old movie she liked. Glancing at the door … She hoped he would return soon. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone but she really liked having him around. Anna sighed and settled in to watch a movie she hadn’t seen in a while. She had a feeling she wasn’t alone and it wasn’t scary. It was comforting.

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Sing Your Serenade, Poor Mortal

Sing your serenade, poor mortal.

Sing it out loud for me.

Scream it until you tire.

Till your voice quivers and bleeds.

Now enchant me with your heart.

Let me hear its panicked beat.

That sweet thumping rhythm.

Oh, the sound of its release!

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Monster Cake, by Mitchel Stoycheff, Jake Zaccaria, and Penny C.

Multiple Choice #2

1: Who is the mysterious woman?
a: One of the dregs of humanity.
b: The mysterious woman is a mystery.
c: An elemental being who transcends all time and space.

2: Who are you?
a: Just a regular person.
b: I don’t know.
c: Other: ______________________________________________

3: What are the main components of fear?
a: Au.
b: Fe.
d: Other: ______________________________________________

4: Who is your greatest detractor?
a: I am my own worst enemy.
b: The stranger who watches me from across the street.
c: You are. Get thee behind me!

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Tearing Them Apart From the Inside Out

The grisly task began thusly: lightning quick his hands shot out from the shadows headed straight towards the intended mark, the lone girl. Her scream was cut short as one large hand covered her mouth, while the second dug into her chest. With three fingers he broke a hole through her rib cage.

Once her heart gave out he began to relax. Phase one was completed, now phase two could commence at a more leisurely pace. It was always the initial killing which disturbed him the most; it was one of the few things which made him feel anything. What was reflected in the victims eyes always made him recoil. No matter the direction he attacked from, they always saw him.

Blood sprayed onto his face. He blinked. Three ribs stuck out in the air at odd, jagged angles and he was already bored. Lately he had been loosing interest in his hobbies. Maybe he had gone through the motions too many times? His methods had always been from the top down, he realized. Perhaps now it was time to shake things up . . .

He stood up and paced around the body. It took all of his will power to do this. First he needed to think things through; he pondered, exploring the many avenues. By many, that meant two or three. Or just one. He stopped to let out a sigh.

Then stood for a few silent minutes staring at the wall. Nothing of note went through his mind during that small period. It was . . . Mildly pleasant, he realized.

Also, he had already known what to do before he stood up, it just didn’t seem interesting enough, or enough of anything to carry out. Leaving the body was an option. It had always been an option. What the people of the waking world thought or felt about his work made little difference to him, and besides that he had always left a grisly remnant.

His large form leaned over the body again, and thus began his second task. Lightning quick hands took hold of the ribs and refolded them over the girls lungs. Then he folded the skin back over her chest, and whispered a few words. Skin began to fuse with skin. Personally he thought it looked better in shreds.

He forced the mouth open and breathed into it. Then he did what he was best at and disappeared. From behind a bush he watched as the woman sat up. Her hands began to trace her body, her ripped clothing, then as the realization hit her she began to shake. He let her shake for a bit. It was good for the heart. Without making a sound he crawled from behind the bush and began to slither up to her back.

The woman whipped her head around. A pair of accusing eyes burned him. “Leave me alone,” she gasped.

Well that was new!

Already his interest was beginning to renew itself. She remembered him, but how? Humans had no souls, from what he understood. Did he just prove himself wrong? Was it just that humans had no afterlife, and their souls went to a place where they could be forgotten? A soul but no real afterlife. Now that was intriguing. This was merely one explanation for what had happened. More were just waiting for him, he could feel it.

He watched as the corners of her mouth turned down in disgust, horror, confusion. Maybe he’d like to kiss that mouth, see what would happen then. His tongue would slither down her throat up to her nasal cavity where it would then bore a tiny hole up into her brain case. Then he could see for himself how she felt about him.

In one night he went from doing things from the top down, to the bottom up.

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Sloth & Apathy

sloth |slôTH, släTH, slōTH|


1 reluctance to work or make an effort; laziness: he should overcome his natural sloth and complacency.

2 a slow-moving tropical American mammal that hangs upside down from the branches of trees using its long limbs and hooked claws.

apathy |ˈapəTHē|


lack of interest, enthusiasm, or concern: widespread apathy among students.

The Old Year is Dead, But . . .

It all started last year, when they shot a mighty beast,

The overlords of the media had a hearty feast,

And that was all the West seemed to care about, while children were slaughtered

But news like that doesn’t bring you a profit,

Now does it?

So their truth was watered-down, forgotten . . .

Then there’s the matter of the US election.

Our smug liberal faces received a mighty thwack.

When the unthinkable happened, and now there’s no turning back . . .

The moral of that story: some things are better left to natural selection . . .

The old year is dead, but it left much to be desired.

It’s 2017, and we’re so damn tired.

We want change, but are too apathetic to achieve it.

I want 2016 back, but I’m too lazy to retrieve it.


Sorry About Your Dad, written by P.L Cobb with art by Jake Zaccaria

Self Reflection #1

Please answer each question to the best of your ability. Honesty is optional.

Honesty is sometimes a curse. Survival is your prerogative.

1: Who were you the day before?

2: Is this statement true or false: At the beginning of each day you are a different person.
Explain why this statement may be true or false in essay form.

Bonus Question: What type of person do you think I am? I mean, who in their right mind would think to ask these kinds of questions.