Dead Men Tell No Tales

Dead Men Tell No Tales 07/27/2016

Dead men tell no tales,

At least that is what has been told to thee,

As my love and I oscillated towards the sea,

Further into the waves we danced to and fro,

The kelp wrapping around  our ankles,

While cuttlefish tickled our toes,

Further into the sea we were pulled,

I was not afraid for I felt at home,

As I looked into my lover’s eyes,

Beguiled he was deeply enchanted ,

Failed to noticed the water levels had risen,

Or that my form had changed,

My legs gone replaced by spined fish tail,

Propelling us deeper into the ocean,

I heard my love cry out as his lungs were filled with salt water,

The lack of oxygen did him in,

Pity my jolly sailor bold,

As he went  limp in my arms,

I released my love and watched his body float towards the depths below,

Pity that he loved  a siren,

His story will be kept silent forever by his death,

For a dead man cannot tell a mermaid’s tale.

©2016 T.B. Morte

 

 

The Story of Vanity & Envy :(Vol. IV of the Seven) “Death of the Dinner Party”

The Story of Vanity & Envy: (Vol. IV of The Seven) “Death of the Dinner Party”

Vanita did everything she was supposed to do. All the requirements for she had decided to carry on about her way as if there was nothing wrong. Who would be able to tell really? That the smile she carried was false, that the pleasantness that resonated in her tone was forced. Deep down inside of Vanita’s core she was angry and for her it was an emotion that she had not experienced much before. Unlike the other daughters of Immortality, “Vanity” as her mother nicknamed her did not have much to be upset about.

Vanita was beautiful, adored, and loved. Why would she need to be angry or upset about anything? Those were ugly emotions, ugly feelings, and unwanted things. Vanita required things of beauty and adoration. So quite calmly Vanita made the decision the reason of her anger had to go-be abolished, removed, and eradicated. Whatever it would take she would do no cost was too high.

Vanita would kill her spouse. That was the cause of the ugliness. The root of her problem. Her husband’s behavior had become appalling and no longer could she tolerate it. For it was now causing the emotions of anger, rage, and soon tears if things were to continue. Tears of Vanity were a forbidden thing.

Vanita cared for her husband Hendrick she really really did as he did love her. It was mutual in the grand scheme of things. He even loved all her friends, acquaintances, anything of the female form-Hendrick truly loved. Vanita did not care about that it was when the female forms became younger and younger in age. Where their faces were more child-like than adult. It caused her brow to furl in concern. The salacious looks he would give them whenever they walked by him, and sometimes the salacious looks the young swans would give back. Although children of Immortality didn’t have much moral qualms. Even Vanita knew that there was something wrong and improper.

Why would her husband desire children in bed when he had her? Vanity who was once deemed “A goddess of beauty”. What did they have that she did not? That infuriated her beyond belief. And so the only way to stop this behavior was to kill Hendrick and be done with it. Vanita knew she could call in a professional avenger as it was promised to her so many centuries ago. If she needed avenging all she had to was ask, but as these were now modern times and Vanita was very happily a “modern woman”. She would do this task alone.

As she approached the gate of her home, she felt confident in her task ahead. So everything was done in normality, with a perfect smile and bubbly tone. She even went as far by making her neighbor an apple pie. But as Vanita stepped through her doorway she knew something was wrong. The energy tingled through her being- Vanita knew that energy very well since her time in the womb. She knew someone else was home.

There was her mirror imaged twin sitting calmly on the sofa. Vanita gave her twin sister Vidia a cold stare. She was not pleased to see her but she never was. Vidia always loved Vanita since they were small children, always clung to her , always tried being in Vanita’s shadow. It was frustrating and no matter how badly Vanita treated her twin. Vidia always came back like the loyal pet who tried to stray from its owner.  Vanita was not happy to see her especially today.

“Vidia. Why are you here?” Vanita asked sighing.

Vidia who held a scythe-like knife in her hand the gleam of the blade shone in the shadows. “Because you have a need of me.” and as Vidia continued “Is this what you were going to perform the crime with? A sacred weapon?” Vidia scoffed at her sister as if she were a naughty child.

Vanita not even bothering to ask how her twin knew of her plans. There was no point they were able to read each others minds and able to travel outside the realms of space and time to be with each other. “Did you have a better suggestion Envy?” The last word being said with much force but knowing the nickname their mother gave Vidia would leave a mark.

“Yes I do Vanity.” Vanita said with more warmth.

“So its not the crime you disagree with just the method?”

“Indeed. Why bother with a knife my sister when poison is so much better.” As Vidia stood up and walked around her twin whispering with a seductive hiss “So much neater. Less mess. Less ugly.” Knowing the last comment would linger with Vanita.

“You are right my sister. Poison will make it beautiful.” Vanita remarked happily.

And so they plotted and planned most carefully. Vanita actually agreed that in this matter that “two heads were better than one” and was glad that Vidia was willing to help more and judge less. They decided the best way to execute said plan was to throw a dinner party giving Hendrick the husband of Vanita a chance to show off one final time. Everyone that Hendrick had loved so dear would be invited. Meaning every woman the couple both knew.

The night of the dinner party everything was done in perfection: Couture clothing, Five star catering , even a band was hired. Vanita came up with the  theme of “Masquerade” so all the attendees came in masks and other forms of Renaissance garb. It was a beautiful evening, Vanita and Vidia both garbed in white looked like goddesses of olden times. Hendrick also garbed in white looked like a masked fairy tale prince. He was a most charming and gracious host walking arm-in-arm with his wife and sister-in-law greeting everyone in high style. What he did not know of was the vial of poison placed carefully between the cleft of his wife’s breasts.

A simple concoction really: Leaves of belladonna, stems of henbane, seeds of Strych, petals of oleander. Cyanide could have been also effective but sometimes the old ways were better.

As all the ladies took their places at the dinner table they encouraged the male host Hendrick to make a speech. Their dear darling Hendrick, so handsome, so wonderful. Vanita thought as she watched him talk so boastfully. It was a pity that they didn’t know the ugliness that laid within him. Their precious Hendrick who was a cheat and desired children in lascivious ways. Would they still want him then? Or would they feel like she did? The anger? The disgrace? The ugliness?

Poor Hendrick was not able to finish his speech the convulsions took over as the blood frothed from his mouth. As he convulsed to death into his perfect plate of food, there was pandemonium of women running everywhere screaming and suddenly convulsing to their deaths. Vanita looked in pure shock as there were multiple dead bodies everywhere. There was only to be one corpse. The corpse being her husband.

“YOU KILLED EVERYONE!” Vanita screamed in rage.

Vidia who stepped over a dead body walked calmly to where her sister stood. “Correction. We killed everyone” as she wrapped an arm around her sister’s waist.

Vanity whose eyes just kept bulging whispered in a hoarse tone “How?”.

Vidia smirked and used her free hand to dive between the cleft of her breasts to pull out a vial. “I used cyanide.”

Vanita just looked at her sister and was prepared to back-hand her to the next century. Her attention hogging twin had ruined her perfect murder! All these corpses caused a most ugly sight. Yet before she could execute that slap a dark mass of energy had conjured. The energy felt so heavy so hateful it caused the twins to cringe. Torment their older sister had come after all.

There she was in all her dark perfection, clad in back, still looking so beautiful despite all the horror she carried with her. Vanity & Envy said nothing they both knew better than to interfere. Never interfere with Torment or else she could just turn on you.

Torment walked around surveying the dead bodies. She said nothing, the twins also said nothing. It was a stand-off of immortal forces not knowing who would win or who would be destroyed. Finally Torment spoke “This is your handiwork?” looking to both Vanita and her twin.

“Yes.” They answered in unison.

“You killed your husband to avenge innocent children.” as Torment continued “I can appreciate that.”

“The other dinner guests….”

“Envy killed them unnecessarily.” Vanita interjected.

“Needed to be killed also. Never leave witnesses.” Torment added.

Envy stuck her tongue out at Vanity. Which unable to help herself Vanita slapped her twin across her most perfect face. Then more slaps followed until Torment herself stepped between them and grabbed Vanity’s wrist with a deadly grip.

“Enough.”

“You are both coming with me. I have plans for you two.”

And so the murdering one, became the murdering three.

©T.B.Morte from the “The Seven Interlogues”

Ave Dementia

Omnibus in foro S.P.D.

I bring you fresh words from the garden.  Enjoy!

 

Ave Dementia 07/06/2016

Ave Dementia!

I  greet thee,

Most beloved,

With sister rage,

and brother sorrow,

We call to thee,

Come join us in tragedy’s  revelry,

with the festival that never ends,

Tis a gathering of souls,

The Lost,

The Forgotten,

The Broken,

The Damned,

Miscreants gather at the sound of the broken horn,

Come join us,

As we  dance under the shadows,

Our circle stands strong,

As we gleam under the pale  beams of the silvery moon,

The song has been sung,

Do you not hear the music of the nightingales?

Ave Dementia!

We call to thee,

Harken us!

Join us and become one  of the damned beloved.

©2016 T.B. Morte

 

 

 

 

On the Eighth Day

On the Eighth Day 05/10/2016

On the eighth day she was given oblivion,

it was a solution to all the madness,

it was said it would take away all the pain,

On the seventh day she was given heartbreak,

she knew the way that knife could cut,

seductively and with precision along her skin,

On the sixth day she was given indecision,

the roads so twisted where one nightmare ended,

another nightmare began,

On the fifth day she was given temptation,

a beguiling gift of extravagant grandeur,

sweet was temptation but left her bitter,

On the fourth day she was given illusion,

the power to make everything beautiful,

hiding the marred with optical glamors,

On the third day she was given love eternally,

a gift she knew would not remain immortal,

Loved she did eternally  both a blessing and curse,

On the second day she was given Chaos,

A friend in discord was a friend indeed,

chaos and discord made great bedfellows,

On the first day she was given the knife,

the knife she kept close to her heart,

the knife to find her oblivion.

©2016 T.B. Morte

 

 

 

Deliverance (A Prequel Story)

Greetings:

This was a prequel story of “Human Skin” documenting the day of Krysanthe Starflower’s (the main Protagonist) of the novel “Human Skin” birth.  This is the POV from Krysanthe’s father, Lord Caesarion Starflower.  Later on will post that of her mother.

 

Pax,

Tragedienne

Deliverance 08/11/2013-08/18/2013

There was an eerie silence outside the maternity ward. Caesarion Starflower thought that seemed rather strange, although today seemed very different in general.  He could not describe why this day was different; it  simply was.  No sound of newborns crying, or   whispering of the  Medicus and their assistants talking to each other. No voices of excited parents or their families, no sounds of screaming mothers in the throes of labor pains.

There were no sounds at all, not since hours earlier, when one  woman wailed in deep misery: Caesarion’s own wife.

 

This was not Caesarion’s first trip to the delivery room, but he did entertain a small hope it would be his last.  In the hours previously, his wife had given birth to the couple’s fifth child. Even that, in the opinion of some, would be considered too many progeny.   “Three trips to the delivery room leading to five children, including a set of triplets, seemed like quite enough for anyone, particularly the Keeper of the Realm.”

 

But who was to tell the newly-appointed Keeper of the Northern Realm that he could not have as many offspring as he wanted?  The mantle had been passed on by his father, the now retired Lord Alexander, the second Keeper of the Realm . Caesarion was the third to hold the title  along with all the responsibilities that came with it.  To earn the title, Caesarion had fought countless battles as one of the Fianna, won the war against the Swan-kin, and provided the Starflower family with not only one son but  three.

 

Caesarion would rather have been in meetings with dignitaries or planning a battle with the  Fianna  than be stuck in the delivery room for the birth of yet another child. But still he was here. He had been in attendance for the birth of every one of his children, and this fifth child would be no exception. Never mind that there was already talk of child looking ”different,” that she had been born without the traditional Starflower family traits. There would be talk of the questioning of the child’s fey-kin heritage, which would of course be squashed.

 

Staring into the  window of the nursery, he could see his newest babe.  She was swaddled in pink blankets identifying her gender.  Solemnly she slept without the aid of a pacifier. In Caesarion’s experience, that was a rare ability.  His four other children required one immediately after being parted from their mother after being born.  Caesarion could see the child’s barely-there wisps of blonde hair. It was not the traditional ice-blonde locks the Starflowers were known for.  As if the baby could tell she was being looked upon, slowly she opened her sapphire-colored eyes.

 

Sapphire eyes.  His wife’s eyes.  With this child, Lady Melusina’s genes were very strong, which could be damning depending on who  was speaking.   A million thoughts ran inside Caesarion’s head all at once.

 

Suddenly Caesarion heard a familiar voice behind him, echoing his unspoken thoughts .

 

“How many trips to the maternity ward are you and Melusina going to be making, brother?” Lord Augustus asked.

 

“I thought with the triplets it was going to stop,” Caesarion said with a dry chuckle.

 

“Think of it as celebrating your newest appointment. Keeper of the Realm,” Lord Augustus responded with the same dry humor.

 

“Then we are both celebrating it, Prime Commander,”  Caesarion acknowledged with a smile.   Augustus Starflower was Caesarion’s younger and only brother.  He had been  appointed Prime Commander by their father of the entire Northern Realm’s army. Keeping track and control over an entire  army was no small feat.

 

“Your newest  pixie is beautiful. She looks like a replica of Melusina.  She will grow up to be a great beauty,” Augustus  remarked.

 

“Yes, I know.” Caesarion answered  quickly.

 

“Although I notice the obvious lack of platinum blonde in those wisps of hair, my brother.  And those eyes are not the Starflower turquoise…”

 

“Melusina says she was born with golden blonde hair, and as she grew older, her hair changed to raven black.” Caesarion cut in.

 

“So this time around, Melusina’s genes are dominant, you think?”

 

“What do you think?  Why have you come here, brother?” Caesarion asked, annoyed.

 

“Why, to see my newest niece, of course! Besides, little Meridia here wanted to see her new cousin as well.” Augustus pointed down to the child next to him.

 

Caesarion looked down, almost embarrassed.  He hadn’t even notice that his brother had brought his only child.  Three-year-old Meridia Starflower looked up at Caesarion with her beautiful turquoise eyes.  Her elvish ears had were sticking out, her hair placed behind them.  The ears marked her as a true Feykin child. She looked strikingly similar to Caesarion’s four other children.

 

“Hello Tatü,” Meridia said, smiling.

 

“Why hello, Meridia. I did not see you there,”  Caesarion said plainly.

 

Augustus lifted his little daughter into his arms so that she could get a better view of the newborn behind the glass.

 

“What do you think of your new cousin?” Augustus asked his daughter.

 

“She looks different,”  Meridia said, squinting.

 

Caesarion was suddenly not looking forward to the responses his four other children were going to give him when they would be finally brought in to see their newest sibling.

 

Augustus was determined to acknowledge what his brother Caesarion refused to say out loud.  “Melusina’s genes were examined quite heavily before your marriage.  That recessive gene of the  Stormholme family is nearly non-existent, but that does not mean it cannot re-appear,” Augustus began.

 

“I am aware, brother.  And I will tell you and whoever else may decide to think of such a thing.

 

My daughter is not a human-kin. No child of mine is a human,” Caesarion, Keeper of the Northern Realm, declared.

 

©2013 Tragedienne Belle Morte

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

N

Darkness Loves Monster

Darkness Loves Monster  02/14/2016

“I shall give you a name.”  Darkness said as he looked at his most adored.

“But I already have one.”

She looked at her beloved liege wondering why suddenly he wanted to give her a “name”.   When she already had a name that was barely used, surely there was intention behind such a command.

 

“The mortal women who dwell above have names.”

 

“And we live in the shadows not within the mortal realm my beloved.”

 

“A name can give one power.”  Darkness replied firmly.

 

“My name is Monster.  That is my name.  I have the powers of darkness and of the storms. Mortal women quake and run in my presence. ” She spoke with sudden fierceness not wanting to be bothered with such trivial things such as a new name.

 
“A monster is to be considered a thing of ugliness and to be feared.  But you are neither to me.  Your beauty shines brighter than stars themselves and I do not fear you.  Never will the Darkness fear what he loves the most.”

 

“The Darkness loves his Monster.”

“Always.” As Darkness looked at her his icy expression changing to a sign of rare warmth.

“I will give you what the Lord of Light could never give you.”

At the mentioning of the Light who had never loved Monster a pang struck to her very core. She left Monster to go be with the Light, she believed the King of Illusion had loved her.  Tricked her into thinking she belonged in the mortal world.  When in truth she never did and never will.  She had hurt Darkness so deeply when she had fled.  Yet Darkness took her back but never did he forget.

“And whats that my beloved?”

“A name. Because unlike the Light.  I love thee Eternally.”

And so Darkness called his monster by the name of love.

 

©2016 T.B. Morte  “From the Book of Monster” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Death Of A Star

Death Of A Star 02/07/2016

You said once that you looked upon me like a star,

bright and luminous,

a supernova of cosmic wonder,

 

Over the passages of time,

when arguments and calamity,

replaced our passion,

 

You no longer saw a star,

you saw a broken visage,

battle weary,

bruised by tears and arguments,

stitched back together over and over,

 

Unable to fix the heartache,

You left your star behind,

To suffer a death so powerful,

More everlasting than the star’s life.

 

©2016 T.B. Morte

From the Collection “Spellbound Diavolina Morbidia”

 

 

Bullet-Kissed Lovesong

Omnibus in foro S.P.D.

My spooky folks.   A writing challenge that I accepted featuring a quote that was posted by Donte Collins (via quote that).  All credit of quote goes to original writer.

 

 

Bullet- Kissed Lovesong 01/24/2016

Kissed the bullets simply because  I loved the person who was holding the gun.

When he had hit me it always felt like a kiss.  That was the way we had our true bliss.

Our love story composed of bruises and fists both claiming the title of nihilist.

 

Chainsaw masochist and Lipstick sadist such a lovely couple.  Spent most of our time between each others legs. I only felt something when he was on top of me and vice versa.  The only time while we as lovers felt alive. Sex that was wild and electrifying. While he pounded me we made the earth move.

 

I kissed the bullets because I love the person holding the gun.  I am the Bonnie to his Clyde. Two fucked up people in a fucked up world.  We have nothing but each other.

So of course I kissed the bullets because it was my baby’s gun.

 

©2016 T.B. Morte writing as “Bobbie Jane Claibourne”

From the Collection “Spellbound Morbidia Diavolina”

 

 

 

 

It’s A Gloom Thing

Omnibus in foro S.P.D.

A small fan fic inspired by a friend.  Enjoy!

Pax,

BoneMama Belle

 

It’s A Gloom Thing  1/18/2016

Another year had gone by,

and we heard the call,

The Count gathered the deranged and the undead,

For the Monster’s Ball,

 

When the party opened,

Banshees sang,

The sounds of zombie’s running,

Was lovely indeed,

if you’re into pandemonium,

 

The werewolf was in the swamps,

Digging for bones,

The Mummy was in the mausoleum,

Dancing with some vixens,

 

And where was Frankenstein,

with old King Drake,

On the dance floor,

with every available female ghoul,

ignoring the mates that made them

famous,

 

There she was in her own corner,

Eyes demonic and unwaivering,

curves that flowed unending,

Skin pale as death itself,

freshly dead,

sleek and so unique,

 

Oscillated to where she stood,

not by choice,

As if some unspoken command,

struck my bolts core,

It was not just the Count,

who had the powers of hypnotism,

 

And so there I was on my knees,

as she bade to me rise,

Whilst she spoke the words,

“A lamenting bride knows a tormented bride”,

Dracula and Frankenstein closer than before,

As we kissed under the dim strobelight,

and later the dungeons,

We’re a thing,

Of the death, love, and gore,

A gloom thing.

 

The Collection “Spellbound Diavolina Morbidia”

©2016 T.B. Morte (Tragedienne Belleen Morte)

 

 

 

 

 

Untitled #346 (When Monster Left)

Untitled #346 (When Monster Left)

Untitled #346 (When Monster Left)

Darkness.

It was there, as it had always been,

Faithful, loyal, always welcoming with open arms,

Always forgiving,

No matter how many times the monster left,

In search of something better,

She always believed there was something in rays of light,

its shimmer so deceptive,

A snake so lovely,

a million prisms of color,

united in a specter of beauty,

She wanted it,

She craved it,

It noticed her,

Hiding,

The light had found a new pawn,

And as Monster entered its welcoming maze,

how darkness grieved,

How it died over and over by Monster’s hand,

Done willingly,

Foolishly,

In hopes of something greater,

In the end,

The light could never love the monster,

when there was the princess in the tower,

waiting for her shining light of glory,

The monster was wild and always in fury,

When the monster was finally made broken,

her heart removed from her body by own volition,

she crawled back to the darkness,

in true sorrow,

she was forgiven,

but reminded that she had loved the light more than the light would ever love her,

This torment she must live with,

for even darkness had its moments of cruelty.

©2015 T.B. Morte from the collection “Spellbound Diavolina Morbidia”