Thursday, April 26, 2012

REAPING DEATH/ Tomahawk a short story

Been writing a lot of non BMX stuff until I get an assignment from my editors. Also sent my Primo cranks back to get my warranty on. After Primo let go of Stricker, and Foster why would I still want to ride their cranks. Well for one I love my Powerbites, and two I'm getting a pair for free. I can't go and milk the money tree that well....doesn't exist for a pair of Profiles or Animal cranks. I also don't want to bother Tom or Van and ask if I can ride a pair of used cranks. But I got a new job landscaping which is good money, payday is tomorrow which is fucking sick. I work Saturday, Tuesday, and Wednesday ten dollars an hour and I only work eight to four. Sickening! So I hope all of you true metal heads have your tickets for WATAIN in ten days with In Solitude, The Devils Blood, and Behemoth. Anyways here are some writings that I have been fucking around on and some other random shit since I have been slacking on updates.


Tomahawk:
The time was nine thirty, the sun had a red tone to it earlier in the evening as it set down in the West. David Curren was only seven years old and for as long as he could remember being tucked in by his drunken father, his breath reeking like a sour snake had slithered into his throat and laid its rotten eggs. Needless to say bedtime for David was never a pleasant experience, but if he didn't shut his eyes he knew he would have to deal with his fathers wrath while his mother stood watching on with vacant eyes and a soiled white robe that hadn't seen the washing machine in months so it seemed.
Every night David awoke at almost three in the morning due to a scuffling sound coming from underneath  the steel frame of his bed. David's bedroom was very modest and most nights when he would hear the sounds from beneath the bed he would just stair at his poster of Super Mario Brothers 3 that his brother had given him before he was killed in a motorcycle accident during the summer of 1996. David missed his brother Glen more and more as the nights became a blur of terror and mind games. But David regardless of how much strength he felt in his brothers spirit and knowing in his heart that dead or alive Glen would protect him from the witching hour.
The clock ticked 2:58 and the noises began but David was almost a man grown and knew that he had to face his fear. He slowly climbed down from the comfort of his twin bed and down comforter until his socks hit the hardwood floor. "Just a peek", he told himself as he bent down on his knees and slowly lifted up the fallen blanket to get a better look at what was under his bed, if it was anything at all. Suddenly his door swung open with the force of a hurricane. He didn't take a sigh of relief knowing that his father was probably drunk and was going to flay him inch by inch with his studded belt. But this was not the case, to his knees his father dropped spewing bile, booze, and blood onto the hardwood floor. He could not speak with what seemed to David to be a blade sticking through his esophagus. Behind his lifeless corpse and standing in the puddle of blood and shit was what looked like to David to be Glen! How could this be? As his dead brother lunged at David, his mother had very feebly tried to jump on the wight's back. Glen's re-animated corpse threw her on the ground with such force it had smashed all of her teeth in, and she lay crying for mercy through bloody nerve endings and crushed teeth particles. No mercy  was given this night. The wight leaned over his grizzly handy work of Mr.Curren's corpse and removed a small tomahawk from the wound and approached their mother. David was frozen with fear and his mothers filthy robe soon became the color of the red moon he had saw earlier. The hacks at her corpse were vicious and inhuman. David vomited on himself at the sight of her disembodied corpse with his ghastly corpse of a brother now standing over him. The stench was unbearable, dirt, maggots, and the stench of death clouded the air. David was corner by Glen against his bed as his corpse of a brother leaned over, his mouth was hallow yet his voice remained as innocent as he had remembered. Glen said very quietly to David, "Love is a strange word, and these two who brought me and you life knew nothing of it. You are free David, but refuse me and I shall return and...well you see that revenge is not a pretty sight." At that moment as Glen sunk under the bed, David had released that his bowels had released and the scent of piss stung his nose. Was this just some nightmare, or were the mutilated corpses of his parents actually a reality. As he took a step away from his bed David felt an extremely strong grip on his left ankle and looked down only to see the empty eyes of Glen, screaming, "I loved you David, yet you never wept for me!" David's fingernails were embedded into the hardwood floor when the police arrived after a neighbor had called the Police after she heard a boy's scream. The discovery of David's corpse was shocking enough as his torso had been split in two and made into some monument of death, where his head should've been his fathers had been crudely sewn on, David's manhood was found in his father's mouth and his mothers legs had been broken and the bones seemed to be used as horns on the body. Glen had returned from beyond, and payed his respects to the ones who he had once loved, even though they had looked at him as an extra mouth to feed. David as poorly as he was treated was their little angel while he remained ignored until Glen's passing where his spirit saw no tears from his family. Love cannot beat the demon.

Here are some tunes for you to enjoy:
Happy Thursday.