Tales From Under the Concrete; Standing on the Edge.

“Well damn Joe, here we are at the 40th floor just like you wanted to be at. I mean right here standing on the ledge and facing the park.

I think you are taking it all a wee bit extreme myself, and just one man speaking here of course.

I mean, just because you lost your job and that bitch of a wife of yours left you for a teenage girl she coached in Girl’s Volleyball is bad enough and eating more snatch than either of us ever will. It’s pretty glib when you think about it. Being ‘Out-snatched’ by a hag of a woman as it were.

Nevertheless, to become a fucking grease-spot way the fuck down there on the cold concrete and unforgiving asphalt all is quite another, entirely.

One thing for sure, a lovely night to end yourself like this. Truly, I must say that the weather is to die for. No, I mean, no pun intended, Joe — Shit man!

Some of the dumbest things to say, right?

Forgive me…

I guess it doesn’t matter much at this moment in time, but you know your oldest daughter?

Yeah man, the boys and me…

Well what I am trying to delinquently say here is that we fucked the living shit outta her last Friday Night when she came jonesing around for some weed and needing to make some quick cash. I gotta say we spread her out pretty thin, sort of speak. But look at it this way; she’s gonna be a real fucking pro. I mean, I needed to tell you this before you take your final swan dive way the fuck down there.

Not to worry man, we’ll all look in on her from time to time; giving her our very best. Besides, I believe she is gonna be one hell of a porn queen when she grows up if she stays away from the Crack and Meth.

Seems to me that you have everything well under control here, Joe. Shit, that is such a long way down and after all, it is getting dark.

Joe, listen man, you are the fucking man and I always thought that since your beginning. I love your energy and resolve in this matter. True, a bit over the top but just the same. You know what I’m trying to say here and all.

Listen, looking at my watch here, I do have to go. I have others to help out tonight as I helped you out, and I am certain you understand, right Joe?

See you soon, my man…” Satan.

Tales From Under the Concrete; The Dream of the Burning Witch

In this vivid and surreal dream, I found myself standing in a crowd. The time was somewhere in the 13th Century Europe and before me was a woman as I would find out through the violent course of this nightmare’s telling is that this woman was accused, sentenced, and her punishment carried forth before me in this striking ominous envisage. I can clearly see that this woman was tied to the stake surrounded by several cords of wood saturated in pitch.

The day was dark and sinister as I remembered I was cutting through the crowd who were all yelling obscenities at her and I remembered that she was crying most bitterly as she was bound to the single pole.

I grabbed one of the peasant women by the back of her oily and nappy head, forcing her to look into my furious eyes I asked this woman what the accused and condemned is sentenced for as to the crime that brought her to such a place?

She told me that the “harlot-witch” was caught, “Sucking some married man’s cock and practicing witchcraft…” In her immediate and simply put words of this ignorant filthy woman with rotting teeth and her remarkably, black lips.

Absolutely stunned and appalled, I let go of the woman’s head and hair. I then walked up next to the condemned woman as the guards allowed me without question. In the dream, I must have been a man of great means in my black armor and robe.

I walked right up to the woman that I never met face to face and I looked deeply into her eyes, removed the gag from her mouth, and asked her if she was practicing “witchcraft.” As to the “sucking dick” part, I could care less.

Besides most of the bitches below in the crowd, screaming, and yelling for her death are as guilty of such natural things as the condemned woman on the stake as I stood appalled to all the things I was seeing. Looking back at the crowd demanding this woman’s life, I seen plenty of scum that should have taken the condemned’s place.

I looked back at this woman. The woman cried bitterly and said, “No, I don’t even know what that is?”
Believing her as my heart broke as the priests giving her the “Last Rites” as one of the other priests, a bishop of the region whispers into my ear of all the “evil” atrocities she did against God and the Church to bring her to this moment.

I couldn’t help but as to wonder if this pretty woman sentenced, to die was coerced into her confession due to the various bruising and lacerations given. Torture is nothing less than an excuse for exorcising the very demons in anyone conducting such a thing. I know beating another human being in torture is of no use to obtaining or extracting the truth of the matter. In my mind, she may have been guilty of just poor judgment and nothing more.

Of course, the bishop was all too ready to tell me the seedy details on how she used the ledged black magic in seducing the man, a man I do not know into having or performing oral sex.

The hypocrisy was astounding from the bishop and that of the crowd. I looked into this woman’s eyes and could see the fear and confusion, the dread that she is about to die a horrible death.

I remember feeling so helpless; there was nothing that I could do to get her out, to spare her life. The pit in my stomach was at the time growing as I know my history well of this time period.

She was nothing less than doomed.

The priest backed up as the executioner smiling through his black veil lit up the prepared wood. I remember backing up as the flames were beginning to take hold as she screamed looking at me to help her.

Knowing that I couldn’t help her the way she needed to as the flames began to engulf her as the wind picked up. I remember hearing the vile hatred of the people. Even the priests were all gloating over her impending death of the worse kind.

My eyes filled with tears and anger of the helplessness, I turned away as she screamed for me to help her since I was the only one among the countless that showed her any measure of compassion. I looked up at a tower behind me, behind the fist-shaking mob that demanded her horrible death and could see a man standing high above, a black silhouette against a brooding sky.

I raised my gloved hand and signaled to him as I can clearly see he drew back the bow and taking aim. The shadowy figure of the man then released a black arrow that sang through the air passing just inches above my head sure of his aim.

True to its mark, the woman’s screaming abruptly stopped as I turned back to her as I can see that the black arrow found its mark between her eyes through the flames. She died instantly.

I did, we did, only what we could do.

When I awoke, I realized that mercy comes in many different forms…

The All-American Nightmare Continues!

Tales From Under the Concrete; The Warning

There is a foreboding legend of a dark and powerful sorcerer amongst the Jyn that  rides upon the black wings of tyranny upon the winds of vile and desolation. I dare not utter his name in his native tongue, no not here, no not ever.

I know of the signs of his coming, wrath, vengeance of the most merciless, murder, evil deeds amuck, and even the sun dims. Know of these signs, take notice, and make hasty tracks for elsewhere.
 
To the east a gray witch, a harbinger of his impending arrival that will amass a horde of the damned that no bow, no sword, no weapon of mankind can destroy.

They say, this harbinger is a soulless bitch-whore of hades herself; half god, half demon and even the cunting Sisters of Fate cower in their utter shame in uselessness.

Others say she is the princess of Danville, sister of the ominous necromancy spirit of none other than the wretched ghost of Joseph Mobley.

Be warned; the children of the Oracle are already slaughtered and buried with severed heads. Your priests defile themselves in their maddening lusts that turns on to the innocence that follow them and who have trusted in their deceit.

You have lost your spiritual sight.

To the north, the second sign of the black sails of the progenies of the lands of both fire and ice come. They will raze your most sacred places into burning heaps of bone and ash.

You shall dine in your own bitter tears and sorrow.

To the south, the descendants of the Seven Stones of Talorc shall rise bringing with them the blistering plagues that shall spare no one of their deadly unrelenting talons striking into the hearts of all mortals.

None shall survive.

To the west past the Silver Mountains shall come the black-hearted warriors of the Steppes to rape, pillage, and plunder those that await their final moments of hellfire eternal.

Heaven and Hell both will tremble with trepidation and your God has once again already failed you all in your superstitious ignorance.

You are already damned throughout the ages to come as I peer into the dark pool of virgin blood and draw heavily into my lungs the Black Lotus. These are the very things that gives me the unrelenting ability to see with second sight beyond the present, to speak of your doom, and a nation of many sorrows to come.