Awakening the evil

“You’re crazy to think there’s love in between all of this. You’re completely out of your mind. It’s merely a sexual desire, don’t you see?”

Face still straight and emotionless, the Psychoweirdo uttered these words that has probably shattered Ben’s hope. She wasn’t lying, although she’s quite bothered with the way this guy treats her, she’s 100% sure it’s not love. How can someone know of something she hasn’t felt ever, neither received from anyone, nor is present even in her own self? Isn’t that ludicrous?

Ben stood up, opened the bottle of Scotch resting at the table and poured some in his glass. He walked slowly towards the window, in deep thought, but his eyes were lost in oblivion. He could feel the rage firing up inside him whilst he hears his alter-ego that poisons his head, telling him how much of a loser he is, presenting all his regrets at the core of his mind. Regret? Perhaps yes, he regrets that he left his family for this woman of magical charm–he was blind enough to see the scars concealed pretty well in her porcelain skin. And yes, crazy enough to think that this crazy woman will eventually fall for him. He drank all the scotch left in the glass he’s holding and firmly said,

“Ash, I am crazy about you and you’re mine!”

As he declared, Ash saw a flash of demonic fire burning in his eyes, which is not too foreign to her. She has seen this before, roughly around a decade ago, when his foster father raped her, multiple times before she was able to escape. All the unpleasant scenes she has buried in the micro deepest layer of her memory has emerged and evolved into a fresh huge monster that in that very second has made her ill, making her want to run away again forever.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re done. I’m leaving.” she hastily picked up her bag and almost made her way out when Ben grasped her by the wrist, shut the door and said, “I’m afraid that’s not gonna happen.”

With his strong built, he pushed his body towards hers, her right cheek pressed in the back of the door like what a policeman does when they catch a criminal. With both her hands in his possession, she could hardly move, it seems like the flashbacks from ten years ago weakened her knees, she’s nearly vulnerable and almost ready to yield.

“You’re hurting me! Let me go!” shouted Ash, as she tried to fight back the weight of Ben’s body that’s hindering her to run away.

Pain suddenly disrupted her brain. Not the physical one she currently feels (’cause that’s way more tolerable), but the pain from the darkest places she’s been in the past that she never wished to see again. After a few seconds, she smelled the stinky odour of the past that was too familiar to her senses, when the man behind her said them words that her father used to say…

“How about we play some games first?”

 

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This is a continuation to The Psychoweirdo fiction series. For the previous parts, click on the links below.

A Psychoweirdo

The Psychoweirdo’s voice

The Psychoweirdo’s voice Part 2

Psychoweirdo is back!

The Psychoweirdo’s charm

Ash–as human, and a woman.

 

Lost Soul (Part 4)

 

 

I heard another sound that made my heartbeat pound like a non-stop drum from a marching band. It’s no longer just a branch of tree falling but stones being thrown at my shack! I remained still and silent, my back leaning at the improvised door I made while i grasp my knife with both hands. If it’s the Ha La Lau, my plan, ever since I came here, was to jump over him and stab that creature in his eyes so he wouldn’t be able to see me as I run away and then just find a new place to build a new home. Living in this peculiar world for such a long time, I have learned how to survive and I will never let any ugly creature take my life away. No, never.

On the third sound that was louder than the first two, whether it’s a bigger stone or a stronger force I wasn’t really sure, I got more tensed. I’m 100% certain someone’s throwing it at my house and that I have to do something. With unending drops of sweat onto my neck up to my lap, I peeked through the small hole from where I sit and peered into the darkness. After a thorough search from the west side of my shack, where the stones were thrown at, I found nothing. Not until I saw a hand that released the fourth powerful strike—dang! it hit the bull’s eye! For some weird reasons, I was able to anticipate it would get through the hole so even before it could hit me, I moved back and rolled like an action star who successfully missed a gunshot.

Oh my God! I’m still fuck*n’ nervous but the thought of seeing a hand that resembles that of human’s, calmed my nerves a little bit. What if there’s another human being trapped in here just like me? But how sure I am that the hand who threw them stones was of a person’s? I walked silently like a frog to reach for the stone at the other end of my tiny house and I couldn’t help but to wonder why it doesn’t look like a stone. Ain’t a stone supposed to be black? This one looks like it was covered with white crumpled paper even from afar. When I reached it, I scrutinized it before touching it worried that there could be some magical spell and as I look closer to this stone as big as a baby’s fist, I saw some symbols from the paper covering it. I have this gut feeling that this is a positive message so I held it while I cover my face with my left hand, afraid that it could be a bomb but when I carried it and heard no explosion, I released a deep sigh of interim relief. I straightened out the crumpled white paper and this is how it looks like:

I have no idea how he (if he’s a “he”, or if he’s actually a person) was able to wrap this symbolic piece of paper but all I know is I have to decipher it. It’s obviously not English but I know this means something of significance. What if this could be my ticket to go back to Earth? Anyhow, I have to find out first where this came from and who that mysterious messenger is.

Leaving the stone behind, I folded the paper and put it in my pocket. I gathered all the courage I have saved in this planet and armored myself with it as I walked outside to search for that messenger. I examined the dark surroundings and walked tiptoed, trying to make no sound and staying alert and attentive all the time. After a couple of minutes of search, a sweaty hand grabbed me by my arm it lifted me from one place to another, like a ball that has bounced from the surface of the earth. The force was too strong I thought he was a giant or a monster but the fact that the hand was sweaty indicates he’s human. And I was hell right. He was hugging me from behind, his right arm clamped in my waist while his left hand covered my mouth ’cause I couldn’t help but to scream femininely as I tripped over.

“Shhhh. The monsters will hear you and we’re dead” whispered the guy with a face I haven’t seen yet.

“Who are you? Are you human too? Are you trapped here as well?” I moved back and saw a shirtless man looking like a caveman with long brown hair same as Tarzan’s with a bizarrely long beard I can hardly see his face.

“I am, but hang on, let’s go to my hideout first before I answer all your questions. Did you bring the piece of paper from the stone?” asked the man, while he kept on looking around, perhaps checking if a Ha La Lau heard my scream.

“Yes, it’s with me.”

“Alright then, let’s go.”

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This is another contribution to a writing challenge my dear friend Bartek has created again to combine creative minds from around the world. So happy to be part of this and so thrilled to read the next parts. Please click on the link below so you can see how this story started. Please let us know if you’re challenged enough to do the next part through the comments. Maybe make a romantic twist? Or a magical one? It’s all up to you. 🙂 Thanks for reading!

Part 1 by Enni

Part 2 by Joker

Part 3 by Bartek

(Photo credit to the owner)

The Psychoweirdo’s charm

Ben was bewildered by the silent scene he just witnessed right before his very eyes. It almost felt like he’s in a movie wherein two girls are about to fight over him, which made him feel a bit proud of himself, that added some dose of pride and confidence in his Alpha soul. He scratched the daydreaming after realising that this ain’t a movie at all, it was real life. His wife Abby is standing right next to his mistress who happened to be a sin he would never regret of committing. Ash has exceeded the definition of perfection—who is gifted with such undeniably seducing soul, with those brown eyes that speaks of lust, a body that shouts of warmth and home, hair that smells of lilies in full bloom and a sweet voice that mimics of Jazz on a sad solitary night. He must be crazy, he thought. Whatever it is, he knows for a fact that a woman like this is almost impossible to even exist, like a gem that can only be found in the dark abyss of ocean and seas.

“What is going on in here? Abby, let’s go home now, I’ll explain everything…” said Ben, who suddenly dropped the paperbag of Japanese food he bought at Yabu Restaurant as he rapidly reached out for his wife’s hands so he can escort her out of the house. But he reckoned it’s not possible, with Abby’s face that threatens of a quick death, by the way her features instantly transformed in mere seconds. A pair of fire emojis replaced her once angelic eyes, at least to his imagination, that made him sweat like he just lifted a 300 lbs of weights, non-stop.

Abby slightly moved back from her standing position as she peered at Ben with sheer rage, then she shoo him away in the most brutal way possible, as he attempts to hold her and lead her out of the house.

“No, i need explanation NOW!!! You fuckin’ tell me what’s going on and why the fuck are you cheating with me and how long has this been going on?!??! Fuckin’ tell me ’cause I fuckin’ deserve to know!!!!!” she stated hysterically, losing all the poise a legal wife should have. She just lost it, she couldn’t help it.

Ash nonchalantly held and opened up her tiny jar by the coffee table that contains sweets and gums and grabbed a strawberry flavored gum she calmly put into her mouth, as she watches this familiar boring movie that’s making her nearly sleepy. She crossed her arms in front of her and leaned her back against the wall as she chews and pops the gum in her mouth, in a sexy manner every man would absolutely get turned on, even just on the chewing act alone. The Psychoweirdo didn’t say a word—her presence is enough to overrule the heated ambiance these overly dramatic Asian people created in her place. Fuck off, she thought.

Ben tried to carry his petite wife like a child, regardless of her violent protest with the act, scandalous cussing and crazy shouting. Notwithstanding Abby’s size, she was able to get off of him as she scratched him hard with her witch-like long nails and as she bit his arm that left a mark that is almost about to bleed. She didn’t wanna lose, no matter how ridiculous the scene she’s creating, she didn’t mind. She needs an answer, Ben needs to choose between her and this whore.

“OK! I will leave this filthy house, but you have to choose between me or your mistress. Tell me, who would you pick? Your wife who have loved you for years or this bitch you barely know?! Tell me! Fuckin’ decide NOW!” she threatened Ben, whilst pointing to Ash, confident enough that he’s going to choose her, ’cause she’s the legal wife, the right owner of Ben.

Ash wasn’t bothered by the wife’s threat, she cared less about losing Ben, but she knows she was the best in bed, by far. She’s thinking hard as she looks at Ben, trying to send a captivating message through her eyes—to stay and choose her. She’s not sure yet, but she wants to be chosen, perhaps it was her ego or maybe it was also because she was truly hooked by this guy’s inexplicable hotness.

Ben didn’t know how to reply, he’s both shocked and frightened. What is he supposed to do now?

To be continued…

Destination Unknown (Part 4)

Ann had me there, she might be my friend but she didn’t know that much about me. No one did except maybe for my ex-fiancé Sylvia, who left me after finding out my secrets. I had no choice, I had to lie about my sister’s existence to keep her safe. The only way to protect her is to put her in my rest house here in Norway. This 500 square meter two-story house was bought by my parents when my father, a Civil Engineer, had a construction project here in Oslo, back in the 90’s. Both floors have two main doors, made from Betula pubescens wood with some strange carvings my mum personally designed being an artist that she is. There’s also an old rusty spiral stairs that connects directly to the second floor that is securely locked for its purpose. Several months ago, when I asked Ann to look over the house (which she happily accepted), I forbid her to go upstairs, as my one and only condition for letting her stay in my house for free. She never asked why anyway but I never realized that she would eventually find out about my sister, that I’ve been hiding here since the cataclysmic death of our parents, April of last year.

“You spoke to her? How?” I asked Ann, with my eyes that forgot to blink and my jaw that has faintly dropped in a haste.

“I didn’t go upstairs as you have told me, I promise!” she exclaimed, raising her right hand like a kid who was proving her innocence over a who-spilled-the-milk case.

“Last night she startled both of us, while my boyfriend and I was watching Netflix, we saw her walking down the stairs looking all scary with her dirty floral dress it frightened the hell out of us!” she continued, then laughed.

“What’s funny?” I replied curiously, my thick eyebrows have almost formed a one V-line now that I’m getting nervous. Did Ann find out about my sister’s peculiar abilities? This can’t be happening.

“Nothing. It’s just a little weird because she said she was worried about you, that I should call you and warn you. I asked her who she is and she said her name’s Agatha, that she’s your sister. I contemplated whether to call you or not but when I was about to, that’s when you called and said you’re flying here so I decided to just tell you about this in person instead.” She said, looking straight to my eye, waiting for my response.

“How long has she been in there? Does she even eat? How come she doesn’t go out? Why are you hiding her there? She looks normal to me, I even find her so attractive although she looked like she hasn’t bathed. I mean like, is she sick?” She asked so inquisitively in a concerned manner all I can manage to do is clear my throat while my head is down and my fingers sway in such a tensed way, cogitating whether to tell Ann the truth or not.

I have lost my parents and recently my fiancé hence I can’t also afford to lose my sister. She’s all that I have now and I love her so much that’s why I have to keep her hidden in this house. No one should know about her, most especially about her abilities. Or perhaps I can make an exception? Should I tell Ann about Agatha? Should I also tell her about the dreams I’ve been having for almost two weeks now?

#fiction

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

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This is the fourth part from the writing challenge I accepted that my dear friend Bartek has created. His blog is full of creepy stories that will haunt you like the effect of the books of Stephen King or Paula Hawkins or Gillian Flynn. He’s an exceptional writer and one of the best I’ve seen in WordPress so far. Give this guy a follow and I hope you stay tuned to this thriller story created by a number of bloggers around the world. Should you also want to be a part of it, let him know so he can assign a certain part for you. Thanks for reading!

The Pyschoweirdo’s voice (Part 2)

Who said I’m gonna fall for that crap? Seriously??? Ha ha. You don’t even have the faintest idea about who I truly am. I’m a one hell good of a liar so I’m not one who capitulates to that kind of bullsh*t. There are two voices inside me, however, that keeps on battling with each other. The devilish one said I must believe him, the angelic one though is obviously contradicting it—this angel’s voice urges me to do what I think was right, and not what everybody else think IS right. She’s been overruling me and I loved it that way. Ash will always be Ash. And not even a single mistake of sleeping with a good guy could turn this around.

Whilst listening to the hilarious debates of the two voices in my head, I stood up and waved for a taxi and asked the driver to bring me to Revel Bar, a different bar this time, so I can fulfill the needs of my skin and the tingling feels in my bones, I need to find a bad victim tonight. Otherwise, it’ll be boring.

I picked up my compact powder and put a little of retouch to my face to unleash yet again the lost glow because of the devil that suddenly spoke and argued with the angel I’ve been listening to for more than two decades. That Robbie guy provoked the devil to make me believe that someone could possibly like me on a deeper level. But what if the devil is right? Ugh nooo. Scratch that sh*t. I am bound to stand out, to be who I want to be, just as what the angel inside me has been telling me. That angelic voice has moulded the Ash that I am perfectly well. She has always pushed me to be different, to be bold enough to follow what I want because no one else can tell me what to do, because she said no one cares for me, no one could ever love me, and she’s just right about it.

I made a grand entrance in the bar as usual and everybody seemed to shower me with their seducing eyes speaking of lust and hunger, for the body I’ve been taking care of. You see, I like the attention, to be the center of it, to be the life of the scene, to see them poor eyes longing to touch me and to witness them fight for a single night with me. Because only one man could taste me tonight, one bad guy I’ve been thirsty of since three hours ago.

I saw a group of three guys at the center of the room, by the playbar, heedless of my presence. The ones who initially ignore my strong aura somehow turns me on, like the thought of a hunter finding it so hard to seek for the bear who’s hiding in the woods, it truly excites me.

The guy in the middle with dark colored almost curly hair wearing a plain white shirt and brown trousers, is the bomb. He has thick eyebrows that has complemented his brown or perhaps black eyes and his weird but naturally curled up lashes that looks so hot. He looks kinda Asian with that beautifully tanned complexion. He had no choice but to notice me as I distract them by making my way to the play bar, breaking the group by half, cutting off their non-sense conversations like an arrogant bitch, but the act made them giggle like hungry beasts after all. My skin slightly touched his by the elbow as I order a Martini, as his eyes looking straight to me, and now I’m a few inches away from a fantastic night. I had to secretly find out if he wears a wedding ring so my peripheral vision tried to help me but i see nothing. He smelled of a bad guy anyway so maybe it’s worth a try.

(Note: None of this story is true, this is just a pure product of my imagination, trying to improve myself in my pursuit of writing a novel.)

A woman’s edge (Part 3)

Ryan turned right at Buick St and stopped by the big blue house. I asked the Taxi driver to please be patient with me and promised him that I will double the fare just so I can find out who that bitch is. My heart is pounding like the feeling you get when you continuously ran for 10 miles. I truly wish this would be over soon. My life in general boldly sucks from the recent miscarriage and now I’m about to have a “mismarriage”. There’s no such word like that, I know, but I’d like to think that could best describe the current situation I’m in with my husband. I waited for like 10 minutes but it seemed like forever to me. My husband didn’t go out of his car and it seems like he’s waiting for his girl to come out of that house so they could go to their tryst, most probably. The thought of it ripples my soul and every bits of it.

When the gate opened, my heart suddenly stopped beating with what I saw. Shit! Does this mean my instinct is wrong all along? I mean, how could a woman commit such a mistake? A woman’s instinct is a woman’s edge from men, I suppose. But now the strong throbbing of my heart has come to a full stop. What if he’s not cheating and I was wrong?

A white blond buff man in a light green polo shirt came out of the house and jumped in the passenger seat of my husband’s car. I know all of Ryan’s friends because he only has a few hence I was somehow surprised to see that he has a new friend. They probably have met in the gym, with the physique of that guy that kind of resembles my husband’s. My instinct was disturbed for quite some time but the worry is still there. I couldn’t seem to delete the idea of him cheating on me, because my heart says he IS cheating on me.

Ryan’s car is not fully tinted thus I can see clearly despite the roughly 100 meter distance that they’re talking about something, I reckon it’s something serious. Does this guy know my husband’s secret about his affair?

I instructed the driver to come a little closer but he refused saying they might figure out we’ve been following and watching them. The driver kind of irritated me but I ignored him and I just contemplated if I would show my face and create a scene or just wait til something interesting pops out. In the next 20 long minutes, nothing happened. I was getting impatient I wanted to go home and maybe just forget about it. But something dramatic happened. It’s when the guy was about to get off the car that made my heart throb faster this time. The guy wasn’t able to get off it because my husband grabbed him by the arm and seemed to like beg him to stay. So the guy closed the door again and followed Ryan’s demand. I can see it vividly that Ryan is now shoving his body closely to the guy as he was holding him tight, his face near his, seemed like he was trying to apologize for him as the guy looks enraged, looking away from my husband. When Ryan finally convinced him, they suddenly hugged in a very awkward way a man should do. It was a total feeling of disgust when after that unpleasant hugging moment, the two of them kissed like two lovers who make up after a fight. I looked down for a second whilst both my hands covered my head, my elbows against my thighs and as I look up again they were still kissing I almost puked seeing such a gay movie of someone I loved so much, who now realized he prefers the same sex.

Without thinking, I hastily went out and banged Ryan’s car and ruined their perfect moment. I couldn’t cry anymore this time because my heart is now filled with utter betrayal it has made me numb and careless enough to create a such a scene. Both of them got out of the car almost at the same time and my husband ran to me and held my hands. I took it off him as fast as I could and allowed the right hand to slap it straight and hard onto his thick dirty face. The guy was shocked when he witnessed what I did to my husband and I thought he deserved one as well so I gave him a punch in the face, his nose bled with so much pain. I looked at them furiously with a witch kind of smile on my face and spat in front of them and then walked away.

#fiction