The Wolf Likes Red

Omnibus in foro S.P.D.

 

My take of Little Red Riding Hood, not so little nor is she not so sweet.

 

The Wolf Likes Red 11/18/2016

The wolf felt lack luster,

as the edges of his prime,

fell away like leaves in the fall,

Sought something to revitalize him,

To awake the primal beast,

That was locked away years ago,

Deep in the heart of the wood,

He ventured,

Along the twisted paths,

He stalked,

Tis not prey he was looking for,

He was unsure,

Just something fresh,

Something to make him feel alive again,

A stir of the blood,

A caress of the flesh,

There I stood on the river banks,

I watched him,

How he moved,

As if he danced in tune with the wind,

White was his fur,

The color of fresh fallen snow,

Eyes that were old blue,

Almost angelic,

Nearly ethereal,

Too pure for the likes of  me,

As my fangs gleamed,

I wonder if he could see me,

The silhouette of raven hair,

The cloak of scarlet red,

Lips of crimson,

Dimples that brought a devilish smirk,

He found me,

Caught my scent,

As our eyes locked marking each other as predator,

There was no Grandmother to save,

No Huntsmen to interrupt,

Our tale would have a better ending,

The wolf sought the solace of an angel,

but welcomed the embrace of a demon.

©2016 T.B Morte

 

 

 

 

 

The Sweet Prince

Omnibus in foro S.P.D.

The Bone Mother returns with a fresh helping of bones for the garden!  Returning to  my fairy tale roots with a interesting twist to “Snow White & Prince Charming”.  I decided to go with prose format to give a more haunted tone.  This is dedicated to a very special person my waifchu a London Amaterasu-Hecate an incredible person I met at a very cool place.  Thank you London for being my rock and anchor in the stormy seas ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

 

The Sweet Prince 08/30/2016

Did I know him?
They would ask me,
Should I laugh at these curious inquiries?
Or do I frown in scorn?
Of course I knew him,

You all know the tale,
The royal children,
The princess whose skin was pale as snow,
The prince whose destiny was to be charming,
Our parents celebrating our future before we could crawl,

When mother died,
Our destiny bound tighter,
As Father was determined to honor the pact,
So we grew up together,
Fighting and tumbling,
we did everything together,
Over the years our hearts grew fonder,

Then one day a stranger entered our kingdom,
Whose beauty was shrouded in mystery,
And there began my misery,
As she took everything away from me,
All I held dear,

My stepmother with her tricks of illusion,
Slowly killed my doting father,
Bound me in chains and slavery,
Leaving me to the whims of her pet Hunter,

But what I could not and will not forgive,
Is the breaking of my sweet prince,
Broken in spirit,
Twisted in mind,
Destroyed of heart,

Did I know him?
You would ask this of me?
I knew him the best,
Loved him the most,

I loved him,
Before the dwarves,
Before the poisonous apple,
Before I knew what love was,
I loved the Prince,

Even in madness,
As I no longer the see the charming prince,
But the creature the Queen has made,
Dark is his heart,
Pale is my skin,
I love him still.

©2016 T. B.Morte

The Story of Silence : (Vol. V of the Seven “When Silence Spoke”)

 

Omnibus in foro S.P.D.

Moar new writing! Feedback always appreciated.

 

The Story of Silence : (Vol. V of the Seven “When Silence Spoke”)

The problem with Silence is that she never knew what to say. She did not know how to respond to the actions of others. She was unsure of how to speak to others, so long ago made the decision to no longer speak. It was easier that way to simply no longer talk. Silence being the youngest out of seven children would be considered the most cherished and the most adored. She often found herself being ignored, her other six sisters had stronger personalities and required their mother’s attention more.

Silence was left to her own devices. And so she made the choice to linger in between worlds. While the other siblings fled away to the mortal plane. Silence felt abandoned in her own mind- she was the forgotten child. And so a child’s form she chose to remain.

In the realm of Light and Shadows is where Silence had called home. For she had no other it was all that she knew. But she was never alone there was another who also bore the blood with that of which could not die. There was also Discord, the sister of war, a being of malice and strife. Discord never left Silence alone.

She mocked and tormented Silence every day, night, and hour. Reminding her how she had been forgotten by her sisters and mother. Discord pointed out how Silence was never loved and could not be loved. For who could love someone who never spoke? Silence hated to be reminded of what seems to be true. Silence hated Discord, but could not be compelled to speak out against her.

Silence said nothing and accepted the words of Discord. Over the passages of decades, centuries, and eons. This was their mantra executed with precision. Discord would torment Silence over and over. In the corner of a cave Silence sat, huddled and scared. As hateful words were shouted at her. Leaving her mad and broken forever screaming inside. She prayed finally for it to be over. For anyone at this point to make it all go away.

The day had came when the wish of Silence was finally granted. While Discord went on her tirade of hate. There came something Silence thought she would never see again. Behind Discord stood six beautiful women all clad in black. Silence stood up staring wide-eyed in pure disbelief. All six of her sisters were there as if they had never left. Discord stopped and took a step back as Silence stood up. Slowly Discord turned around as she found herself face to face with someone who could teach lessons in tormenting.

“You.” Discord spat.

“Yes. Me. Actually us.”

“You shouldn’t be here Torment.” Discord had uttered accusingly  as she tried to back away “You left long ago. All of you did, you all left and left this one here behind.” Discord motioned to Silence while the six women had formed a circle around the two.

“This is our home, we sometimes come back from time to time. We are simply picking up something we left behind long ago. Something that should not have been left behind in the first place.” Torment added as her eyes deadlocked with that of Silence.

“Stillhet. Come here.” Another woman’s voice spoke as she reached out her hand to Silence.

Silence did not say anything or move. She knew who the other woman was. It was Darkness, it was her other sister. Darkness had always been kind to her, there was that moment of conflict to stay where she was or run to the loving embrace of Darkness. Although it would not change how she felt. She had a millennia to be reminded of how she had been left alone.

It was as if her sisters already knew how Silence had felt. As she looked at them- all of them there was remorse in their eyes. Even now Silence still did not know what to say. What could she say?

“Silence go to Darkness.” Torment commanded.

Although she was glad that her sisters remembered the nicknames their mother gave each of them. Silence refused to move. Who was Torment to command her to do anything? After centuries of not being around and left Silence to be tormented? Torment nor any of her other sisters could command Silence to do anything that she did not want to. And so Silence did something most unspeakable. She actually spoke.

“I will not! ” Silence announced.

The Seven other women looked at Silence in awe, the twins known as Envy & Vanity cringed in disbelief. But no one was in more pure shock than Discord. The look on Discord’s face was the combination of fascination and terror. The words she tried to shout came out stuttering.

“She just talked. For a thousand years she has said nothing.” Discord sputtered.

The six sisters of Silence: Torment, Darkness, Regret, Pride, Vanity, and Envy. Moved closer to Silence and Discord. Tightening the circle cornering the two like hungry carrion.

“You would know this because? You have been faithfully been protecting her?” The woman called Pride asked.

“You were looking out for her best interests?” Spoke the woman whose name was Regret.

“You came to love her like your own?” Darkness added scornfully.

“Lies. You like harming innocent children. ” The twins Vanity and Envy said together.

“You spent a thousand years breaking my sister’s mind poisoning her thoughts. For no other reason than that you were simply bored. You’re one sick bitch Discordia.” Torment finally joining in.

“Don’t come here with your stones of judgement. You all left not even bothering to take her with you. At least I stayed instead of dallying with mortals. My powers are intact can we say the same for yours?”

Torment as her eyes glowed fiery red grabbed Discord by the throat lifting Discord into the air . A ray of dark energy overtook the surrounding space. It was so heavy and crippling nearly bringing all the women to their knees.

“Care to find out Discord?”

“All is fair in the matters of love and war Torment.”

“That’s funny you mentioned your brother Discord. If I recall correctly I killed your brother War. Before I kill you as well. Since I promised I would always avenge my sisters, and that means all of them. My sister Silence needs to know that we never meant to leave her, she could have said something. Never be afraid to speak up Silence, speak up against your enemies , but also speak up to your family.”

“That’s so sweet Torment! You finally tell her this after all this time. After the damage has been done. Look at her, a pathetic child that cannot talk. You should all be proud of yourselves. I did you bitches a favor.” Discord laughed.

“ENOUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” Silence screamed. She screamed it over and over. She screamed it with everything she had in her. The fury, the frustration, the bitterness. It all came out in a overflow of emotion, she was angry. Silence had just been so angry. Years of anger just came out as it poured all over her from head to toe. She felt herself becoming taller, her body getting fuller, and bones stretching as she screamed.

Her scream vibrated across the bodies of Discord and her sisters. Discord screamed in pain as she tried lowering herself to the ground. But the anger of Silence was too much for Discord as her body exploded. Darkness ran over to Silence hugging her as she kept screaming.

Darkness embraced Silence till the screaming had stopped. Darkness held Silence until she pried herself from her arms. When she let go she was no longer a child, her anger had made her a woman. Silence looked at all six of her sisters and they looked back at her.

They were now finally all equal.

©2016 T.B. Morte from “The Seven Interlogues”

The Story of Darkness: (Vol. III of “The Seven”) “Why Darkness Wept”

Omnibus in foro S.P.D.

Another bone for the garden.

Pax,

Belleen

The  Story of Darkness: (Vol. III of “The Seven”) “Why Darkness Wept”

The crowd of mourners sang the lines to the song “Amazing Grace” as if they were in true mourning.  Almost and just almost as if they knew the true meaning of grief.  These poor unfortunate souls knew nothing about grieving.  They knew nothing what its like to face loss over and over again.  Over a lifetime, over centuries, over a entire millennia.

She watched as the coffin was being lowered to the dark hole of the ground.  Six feet below to be exact.  This was not the first time she attended a funeral nor would it be her last most likely.  As the tears streamed down her face.  She could not help but weep. No one within the crowd of people bothered to comfort her- not even ask if she was okay.  It was as if she was not there.  While the Priest gave the final sacraments  giving safe passage for the body in the coffin.  To make its final voyage into the next world.

“Ashes to Ashes, Dust to dust.”  The Priest chanted.

She squeezed her eyes tightly as the tears kept going. She knew this would be over very very soon.  For funerals are never prolonged.  Its a short service, body gets buried, and people are supposed to move on with their lives.  You are not supposed to be remember the dead.

Today she buried her very last human descendant.  Her very last great-grandchild  so many times removed she did not bother to count.  It did not matter to her. They were a part of her bloodline. The blood of her blood, sprung forth from her set of children. As time stretched over the span of years, she watched over them, loved and protected even from afar.  She did the best that she could and yet it was not enough for she could not stop the inevitable.  No matter how in the early years she would beg.  She could not stop death even if she were a daughter of “Immortality”.  Death the cruel hearted thing it was stopped for no one.

And so now she grieved openly with no remorse.  She was the only one of seven sisters to gain the blessing to bear children.  Only to lose them to the hands of death.  It was a blessing and a curse.  Her wish was granted at a high price.  No sacrifice to small she had foolishly thought in her misspent youth.  If only she could turn back the passages of time and chose to remain childless.

The circumstances surrounding the death of her descendant were circumspect. He had been murdered most viciously.  Which to her dug the wound even more deep.  His life had not been claimed by old age with a life truly fulfilled. He was still young just barely a grown man.  He never got the chance to start a family or strive for a career.  He would never get the opportunity to fall in love or suffer heartache.  Everything had been taken away from her grandson too early by someone else. That someone was going to truly pay they would never know misery until now that is all that individual will ever know.

The crowd had finally dwindled to where only one had remained at the grave site.  He was tall, dark, smokey eyed, would have been handsome in normal circumstances. He carried the demeanor of one who spent time in the shadows.  She knew all about the shadows.  Its rumored she created them after all.  He stared at her with a look of fascination.

“You look just like him.” Said the man in the shadows.

“We were related.”

“His sister perhaps?”  As he edged closer.

“If you would like to think so.”

“You must be.  You look too much alike.  Do you have a name dear woman?”

“I am Darkness.” She said silently.

“Elakhet.  My name is Elakhet.”

“An usual name for unusual beauty.”

Darkness did not like where this was heading.  She decided to do something she very rarely did.  She used just a vein of power.  Just a small tap to reach into the psyche of the stranger.  His memories flooded into her like a tidal wave almost causing her to lose balance.  Through the images she saw what she dreaded.  The stranger killing her grandchild. This set a wave of anger through her which could not unquelled.  She would have her vengeance and she would have it now.

“It is also unusual for the killer to attend the funeral of his victim.”

If looks could kill then Darkness would truly be struck dead. The stranger turned angrily towards her.  Darkness boldly gave him a playful smirk. She was not afraid of him, for she had seen bigger and badder enemies.

“Had to make sure he was laid to rest.  You know what they say Dead men tell no tales.  And like your brother you know too much. Pity because you’re such a pretty little thing.” The stranger growled as he approached closer.

“Pity because I would hate to see you die. Actually scratch that. I am rather looking forward to it.” Darkness purred back.

What the stranger did not realize that there was three women standing behind him. The sisters of darkness all clad in black.The twins Vanity & Envy who blew Darkness kisses. The oldest sister who Darkness most adored.  Her oldest sibling looked at Darkness solemnly.  Envy in a playful gesture blew in the ear of the stranger causing him to turn around his eyes grew wide in curiousity.

“Peekaboo.” Envy squealed.

Vanity, Envy, and along with the oldest formed a circle around the man who had no name. Circling him like a pack of hungry wolves.  Darkness knew what was to come.  She held no regrets save the fact that she could not dish out justice herself.  For her oldest sister would never allow her to interfere most unfortunately.

“My beloved Torment.” Darkness said in a husky tone.

“My sweet Darkness.”  Torment responded in a softer voice as she continued talking to Darkness directly.

“Forever the grieving Mother my sister.”

“Am I any other way my sister?” Bitterly Darkness asked.

“No you are not. Yet I will still ask how can I salve your heart?”

“I have no heart.”

“Sister let us make it better.” Vanity cooed.

Torment reached with a gloved hand to caress the strangers face. As she cocked her head towards Darkness “His life then?”

“Aye.  His life.”

“You have never asked me of this before.”

Darkness looked at Torment and a smile passed between the two sisters.  They had always been close as children and even over the eons of time their bond had never severed.

“Sister will you avenge me?” Darkness pleaded.

The stranger who had unusually taken a nonchalant stance regarding his soon to be fate. Looked at the four women quite bemused.  “As if you have what it takes to kill me.”  He mocked.

Vanity, Envy, and Torment removed matching Desert Eagles equipped with silencers from their trench coats. The death sisters carried guns that assassins used which in truth was no surprise.  The stranger now very wide eyed tried to take a step back waving his hands frantically.

“I’m not fond of guns on principle.  But they get the job done when it is necessary.” Spoke  Torment as she lifted her gun to meet her target. She motioned the Twins to ready themselves as well.

The stranger decided to foolishly try and outrun the wave of bullets.

“Rest.” Torment began.

“In.” Vanity followed.

“Peace.” Envy finished.

In matching symmetry their guns fired. Bullets hit the back of the strangers head, his heart, and also his stomach. The stranger fell to the ground oddly enough landing on the grave of the grandchild of Darkness.  When it was done Darkness herself approached the body of the stranger to close his now very dead eyes.

“Requiscat in pace.” Darkness spat.

While she turned to join her sisters so they could flee the now crime scene.  Darkness gave a farewell to her last descendant.  She carefully wiped away a crop of fresh tears, while the blood of the stranger flowed into the loams of the earth.

©2015  From “The Seven Interlogues”  by T.B. Morte

The Story of Pride:( Vol. II of “The Seven”) “When Pride humbly fell”

Omnibus in foro S.P.D.

Another a new offering for the garden..  Its nice to see the garden growing with new bones..

Bone Mama,

Belleen

The Story of Pride: Vol. II of “The Seven” (“How Pride Fell’)

It is often said  that it’s the cover-up of the crime that gets you caught.  Not the actual crime itself.  This was something that she secretly wished.  Which was her no good husband would have at least the decency to cover up he was having an affair.

Not to blatantly admit to her and in the presence of their therapist during a couple’s session.  What was the idiot thinking?  Or not thinking rather? As Dr. Vonnerman scribbled furiously in his tablet, the more her husband seemed to spout off his adulterous actions. She could not help but feel bewildered.  Maybe it was more the combination of shocked, spurned, and scorned.  All the elements to a rightfully wronged woman.  Or at least from her perspective it was.  She continued to stare at her partner in half disbelief and pure fury.

“And how does that make you feel Johan?” Dr. Vonnerman asked as he kept writing..

“It makes me feel?  How do you think I feel when my wife shows no affection at all.  This is not a new issue, we’ve discussed this in session before.  I mean the only time I get any reaction out of her-is when she is pissed off.  It is like being married to a volcano.  Days of inactivity and then suddenly she erupts uncontrollably.”

“I see.” Dr. Vonnerman said in a grave tone as he looked at the truly unhappy couple.  Privately  she always thought that the good Doctor got his jinks while watching them bicker on a weekly basis.  How many people did that man “observe” each week and if his other clients paid him as much as they did.

“Stolze. Your thoughts?”

“I am not Stolze.  My name is Pride.”  Pride answered out loud.

“See there she goes.  That horrible nickname.  Why do you like to be called Pride?”  Johan interjected exasperated.

“My Mother gave me that name.”

“A mother and a family I have yet to meet.” Johan pointed out.

Rolling her eyes Pride ignored him as usual.  “Who me? I’m not sure why Johan is complaining.It isn’t as if he is not taken care of.”  Pride responded in a deadpan tone.

“Money buys me everything except a loving wife. You see what I am talking about Doc?  There’s a wall there.”

“Johan…..”  Pride growled.

“A fiery wall of attitude.” Johan continued determined he was going to finish what he had to say.

As the supposed love of her life continued on his self indignant tirade how she had emotionally cuckolded him into cheating. Pride drowned out  Johan’s voice and the soothing dulcet tones of the Doctor.  Johan was sadly Pride’s seventh husband and honestly her seventh failure.  Pride had hoped this was her last go round with holy matrimony.  Perhaps it was finally time to concede that in the end she simply “Did not play well with others.”  Especially others that decided adultery was a legitimate option.

This was something her own Mother often said .  Pride just took it as maternal teasing.  But now perhaps it was true maybe Mother really did know best. Pride wished her parent  was here to give some wisdom.  Yet she knew that her Mother would not come to her aid, she did not come  the first six times.  What would make the seventh time any different?

And so Pride sat in her chair with her hands folded neatly.  As Johan called her every name in the book from “Ice Queen, hot-head, selfish bitch” so forth and so on.  Nothing that Pride had not heard before.

“You see Doc.  It’s not even affecting her. Just look at her face.  It’s like nothing is there.”  Johan rambled.

“Have you two thought of possible separation?  Divorce perhaps?”

“I would never divorce him Doctor.” Pride said hotly.

“Of course she won’t divorce me. It’s a game to her. Stolze won’t love me but cannot stand to let me be with someone else.”

“A control issue.” Dr. Vonnerman mumbled as he started scribbling again.

“See even our therapist thinks you are a control freak.”

This had become too much for Pride to take.  The accusations, the malignant name-calling Johan threw at her. When they married five years ago she told him how hard it was for her to show love.  That was her nature the very fiber of her being.  It could not be undone unless by the gods themselves. Of course it helped sealing the marriage deal  flashing vast wealth before Johan’s eyes. Did not take much for the bastard to quickly say “I thee wed”.

“I want someone to avenge me.” Pride said purely casual.

Both Johan and the Doctor looked at Pride in pure confusion.

“Yes Stolze.  You need someone to come save you.  Because it certainly can not be me.”

The lights in the office began to flicker.  In a off and on pattern as if someone was playing with them.  A wave of eerie crept into the room as both spouse and therapist shifted nervously in their seats.  Pride still sat calmly as if nothing unusual was going on.

“The twins. That means she is also here”.  Pride said only to herself.

“So Doc you paid the utilities this month?” Johan asked with a dry chuckle.

“Of course he did dear.  It’s not like  we aren’t paying him enough to fix our broken marriage.” Pride responded as she stood up.

And just like that.  There they were.  The deadly three.  Her three sisters all clad in black. The twins Vanity and Envy gave Pride a knowing look while the eldest said nothing.  Set to the task.  The oldest raised a gloved hand pointed towards the Doctor. The twins pounced on him like happy kittens.

“Money can’t prescribe happiness.” Squealed Vanity as she snapped the Doctor’s neck with  a turn of her wrist.

Although quick work had been made of Dr. Vonnerman. The twins played tug-of-war with his corpse until his head had been ripped off. Hot blood splayed like a powerful fountain covering everyone in the room including Johan.  Who had sat motionless during the twin’s bloodthirsty onslaught.  Johan screamed in pure terror.

“They just ripped his head off!!”  Johan screamed over and over.

“Your turn.” Pride quietly mumbled.

Except to Pride’s dismay.  Her husband was somehow being kept alive.  As much as Pride did not want to look at her oldest sister. She forced herself  to look at the angel of death in the flesh.

“Torment.  Why is he still alive?”

“It seems number seven was not so lucky after all.” Torment  answered ignoring the question.

“Apparently not.  You are however deflecting my question.”

“Six times I have done this for you.  Your dirty work.  Every century or so you get some silly notion in your head to marry an absolute idiot.  Then when it all goes to hell, you summon me to come kill them. My sister I am not sure if widowhood becomes you.”

“Oh but I thought this was your thing.  Avenging all our wrongs. I’m just providing fodder sis. You did after all make a promise.”  Pride reminded.

“I said I would avenge you of any wrong done to you.” As Torment’s brow furled “Not avenge bad decisions.”

“What does this mean?”

“It means that if you want him dead.  Then you will have to kill him yourself.” Torment answered as she walked next to the twins giving a kick to the Doctors body in the process.

Torment reached inside her cloak and pulled out a shining silvered athame.  An athame was a dagger used in rituals.  It had been years since she seen one. As she watched Torment test its sharpness by massaging the blade with a gloved finger.  Torment then tossed the athame to Pride and stepped back whilst giving the “I’m waiting” expression.

“Torment you cannot possibly mean this.” Pride said in shocked disbelief.

“That I do.  You see my sister you have placed yourself on a pedestal of expectation.  And it is time for you to fall.  Because you see its easy to give the command  to take life.  Its altogether different  when you have to do it yourself. Finish him and come home.”

“What the hell is wrong with you women?” Johan shouted.

The four sisters just looked at  Johan as if he was interrupting something truly important.

“I’m calling the police!”

“Kill him.  We leave nothing to bear witness.” Torment urged.

“Requiscat in pace.” The twins said in unison.

Pride walked towards Johan and for a moment her face showed the emotion of sorrow.  Johan looked in surprise at what he had always wanted to see in his wife.  As Pride drove the Athame through his rib cage.  Johan crumbled into her arms.

“Widowhood makes a happy home.” Pride whispered as she became a widow for the final time.

©2015 From “The Seven Interlogues” T.B. Morte

The Story of Regret- ( Vol. I of “The Seven” )–“Rock-A-Bye-Sweetie”

Omnibus in foro S.P.D.

I present to you a follow-up to “The Seven”..   Feel free to leave feedback.

Bone Mama,

Belleen

The Story of Regret: (Vol. I “The Seven”) — “Rock-A-Bye-Sweetie”

There she sat while she watched him wipe his hands.   “Sweetie” did it methodically as if the rivulets of blood was non-trivial.  In the end  it was her blood and she did not matter.  After “Sweetie” was done he turned to look her as if she was dirt.  This was nothing out of the usual nothing she did made him happy. In the corner there she huddled, she cringed, hoping that his work was done and that he would leave her alone for the time being.   It wasn’t as if he didn’t have other girls to go abuse.

“Sweetie” looked down to her on the floor and gave an exasperated sigh.  “Really Beda what am I going to do with you?”  He stared as if she was supposed to respond.  Yet she did not she had learned from her little sister that sometimes silence was the best answer.  He did not remove that snake like stare from his face which made her cringe even more.  Sweetie did not like it when she put up a struggle.

“Beda I am asking you a question.  Or are you too stupid to realize that?  Your client is not paying enough for the privilege of having you as his mistress.  Tell him if he wants to continue to have access to that sweet body of yours.  He needs to pay up. I don’t allow my Molls to give freebies.”

She never liked that word “Mistress” especially over the last five years it was a role she became more and more. Ever since Sweetie found her that’s what she did.  A chattel for the whims of men, to satisfy their lust, to be mounted, adored, and then discarded. When they were done she would return to Sweetie and he would find her someone but only if they paid well.

It wasn’t always like this- she wasn’t always with a abusive brute.  She was loved and cherished by the husband she had known since a youth.  It was a storybook life girl met boy they were childhood best friends and when they grew up they fell in love and got married. She had the best of everything but you know what they say “First comes love, then comes marriage, then there should be babies in the carriage” the lack of children shattered her husband’s world apart.  So divorce came and while she walked along the streets lost and alone there came Sweetie and found her.  Introduced her to the world of being a “Moll” where men would pay for her exquisite looks.

In the beginning Sweetie loved her ferociously their passion was nothing like what she had with her husband.  It was addicting and much to her dismay no matter how  much he beat her, how violent it got, she did not leave.  The other girls spoke of Pimps who treated their “Molls” like gold.  She was pretty enough maybe she could find one and leave “Sweetie”.  One who was bigger and meaner than “Sweetie” but would love her like she needed to be love.

He walked in short strides to where she was in the corner and he quickly grabbed her. His scent of cinnamon filled her nostrils with sudden desire.  “My beautiful nymph.” He whispered as he kissed her forehead and walked away to do whatever it is pimps do.  “Raising your rates with your boytoy you tell him or if I have to…”  The rest he did not finish nor did “Sweetie” have to she knew the implications all too well.

“My name is not Beda- its Regret”  she said only in her mind.  Being years since she had thought about her childhood nickname.   She never liked that name before and always found it annoying that her Mother had chosen unpleasant nicknames for all of her children.  But she embraced it now for carefree Beda had become the epitome of Regret.  It was as if her Mother had the foresight to know what her children would become.

She remembered a rhyme that her oldest sister often said.  “I will come when you most need me. I will avenge every wrong you have ever been wronged. But do not try to stop me.” It was in that exact moment there was a knock upon her chamber rooms door.

Pausing for a moment Regret got up and carefully opened the door.  There they were garbed head-to-toe in black. Regret shrieked at the sight of her three sisters in pure fright. It had been several years since she had seen any relative.  Why were they here?  The oldest sister was present, which turned Regret’s blood dead cold.  It could mean only one thing–that one had been summoned. Which made Regret gasp even more in horror.

“So glad you realize why I am here sister.” The oldest said coldly.

“Torment.” Regret answered in a whisper.

“And we’re here too.” Envy added.

“Envy and Vanity.” Regret sighed heavily.

Torment looked over at the Twins with an annoyed expression. “You two know what to do.”  The Twins saluted Torment and skipped away giggling.  Regret could only stand there for she knew it would be useless to even protest this. She did not want any part of the bloodbath that is about to take place.

“Why have you come sister?”

“You know why I am here.  I said I would come when you needed me. I made this promise centuries ago. Or have you forgotten?” Torment answered.

“I forget nothing.”

“Ah, but you have my sister.”  Torment hugged Regret and wiped the tear-stained face.  “You have forgotten what you are.  I am here to remind you.  You are not a whim to cater to men.  Its time to come home.”

“All these years I have not heard from you.  You left me alone all this time.” Regret said with accusation.

“That I did in hopes you would get a clue or two and get it together.  Obviously you needed some help in that direction.  Hence why I am here and well with some help from the self-absorbed duo.”

“Did you have to corrupt the Twins into being your henchmen?”

“Was there a better job for them?”

There was a moment of silence between the siblings for a moment. Regret flinched as she could hear “Sweetie” screaming. As his voice grew closer in distance she knew they were bringing him so she could bear witness to the horror. Regret would never forgive her sisters for doing this-never she swore.

Envy and Vanity dragged “Sweetie” in as if he were a doll to be tossed around.  He carried the look of fear and fascination. “Sweetie” met Regret’s eyes for a moment even in his last breaths he looked at her in contempt.  If she had not loved him so much it would not be hard to feel sorry for him.

“Beda!!! What is the meaning of this!!  You fucking whore tell your people to let me go.  I have not done anything!”  Sweetie shouted.

“Shut your face!” Envy shouted as she back-handed “Sweetie” to the ground and proceeded to kick him in the place where it counted.

Vanity joined in and for several minutes proceeded to physically assault their sister’s lover in ways that could not be described.  Regret turned away because she could not bear to watch.  She brought this all upon her and Sweetie both.

“Enough.” Torment said in a smooth tone. “Get him up” with more of a command.

And just like that the violence stopped.  Beaten beyond repair there “Sweetie” feebly stood.  Knowing how Torment worked, Regret knew that this was not over by a long shot.  There would be more blood and more violence.

“You say did “nothing” wrong.  But you have done everything wrong.  You have used my sister’s beauty for your own gain. You have abused, raped, and tortured her and countless of other women.  Other women I can dismiss.  But you mistreated my sister and with that you shall pay.  You shall pay dearly and from this point on you’ll not be able to harm another woman for the rest of your miserable existence.”

“You’re Beda’s sisters?” Sweetie asked in surprise.  “You are all hot just like her.”

Torment smirked as she removed her gloves letting them fall to the ground, revealing feral like claws for fingers.

“Even in death he is still a pig. Its because of the love you bear for him sister that I will do this quickly.” She laughed as she approached her new victim.

“Torment! Don’t do this!” Regret protested.

“You know my promise sister do not interfere.”

“What does she mean….” Sweetie started..

“Requiescat in pace.” The Twins said in unison.

“Rock-A-Bye-Sweetie.”  Torment cackled as she struck her claws against Sweetie’s bare neck.

Sweetie fell to the ground in a pool of blood. Lifeless.  His eyes wide open with the expression he had seen the most beautiful thing in the world.

©2015 From “The Seven Interlogues”- T.B. Morte

New Story (By the stars and the moon)

Omnibus in foro S.P.D.

So recently I have rediscovered the greater joys of writing short stories.  We are still determining whether this is a good thing or a bad thing.  This newly scribed piece is a side story that takes place in the universe of my novel “Human Skin”.  This story involves a  side character one Briony Kiersakova.  Who happens to be the concubine of the main Protagonists’ Father.  In the main novel you’ll find Briony a catty and most overbearing individual.  In this piece you will come to find that there is more than meets the eye.

Feedback and comments welcome.

Pax,

Bone Mama Belle

By the Stars and the Moon 03/28/2014

She had wondered what a star felt like it when finally died. Not that she could fathom the notion, or possibility, that a star could actually die. All that power–just gone in a simple flash, instantly; the eternal brightness being replaced by an empty void. Briony didn’t want to think what it would be like to be without a position of power ever again. She knew what it felt like to be in that void. Nowadays, she and her sister shined like the brightest of stars.

Tonight was the first night of the Noumenalia, festival of the Moon goddess Selene. It was celebration of the story of the Moon goddess Selene, waking up from the world of night to guard the earth, giving her brother the sun god Helios a chance to sleep. Briony had always enjoyed the night-time; she remembered her mother saying that the night was “The time of ladies”. Instead of being out in public and attending the parade, Briony chose to spend time in solitude in the Gardens of Valdryn. The gardens were known for their dark beauty, which not everyone had access to. They belonged to Lord Caesarion Starflower and certain members of his family.

Briony had the privilege of gaining access because of her position as a chief concubine to Lord Starflower, which position she shared with her darling sibling, Zinna–just as they shared nearly everything. They had the same parents, same man, and even the same looks. Taking a break from her normal “shared” routine, Briony was enjoying solitude with just the company of the moon.

Tonight her thoughts traveled outward like a vast web. She thought of her mother who was long dead buried in a grave in the city of Poroven, from whence she and Zinna hailed. Poroven was a city located in the far north of the Northern Realm; a city where there were fewer rich people and more of the poor. Briony also thought of her sister Zinna, whom she had already spent a lifetime taking care of. Sometimes it was an overwhelming task, but at this point Briony could not picture herself doing anything else; for she loved Zinna more than anyone in the world, and her younger sister knew it.

It was the reason why Briony tolerated people mumbling under their breath, calling her “whore”; the reason why she never sought revenge for being sneered at by her fellow Feydred. She wasn’t just a run-of-the-mill concubine who sold her wares to anyone with a piece of shiny coin; she was Mistress to the Keeper of the Realm, the most powerful man in the Northern Realm. So, in turn, she had some power, as did Zinna.

The current job situation was far less messy than her previous job, and less morally compromising. Plus, she was able to protect and provide for the sister she promised to look after.

“I love you too much, my sister,” Briony said out loud to no one but the Moon.

She remembered the night of her Mother’s passing, the city of Poroven having been struck by plague ten years previous. They were too poor and too young to get their Mother proper medicine. Briony remembered how she was beckoned to the deathbed of her parent–cold, hungry, and scared, but dutifully obeying her Mater’s last wish.

“Promise you’ll watch over Zinna always. She’s not as strong as you,” Briony’s mother whispered.

“I promise, Mama,” Briony said as she wept.

“Promise me by what? Promise me by something you love.”

“I promise by the stars and the moon,” Briony promised.

As if snapping out of a dream, Briony felt the tears that were rolling down her face. She carefully wiped them away and looked up at the sky, realizing that she strode too far down memory lane; but Briony was glad that only the moon was able to see her moment of weakness.

~Finis~

©2014 T. B. Morte

My Latest Poem

Tragedienne Omnibus in foro S.P.D.

 

This s my latest poem, it was commissioned by a friend.  They wanted me to do a “Dark Mermaid” poem.  So I obliged, the elements that inspired me were from the actual story “The Little Mermaid” by Hans Christian Andersen not the fluffyfied Disney version.  It’s dark, it’s beautiful, it’s tragic, its totally something I would write.  And they were beyond thrilled with the finished product. 🙂

Enjoy.

 

Beneath The Deep 7/25/2012

Beneath the waves of the trembling sea,

In the ocean’s deep,

I made a choice,

Betwixt,

My love who dwelt above,

And my life down below,

The old sea witch saw me weeping,

On the sea bed’s floor,

Struck a bargain that would cost me dearly,

 

Was not hard to choose the course of fate,

To sever the ties that kept me seabound,

My voice for legs that can touch the ground,

When I reached the beached sands,

My beloved found me thus,

 

By the next tide,

I’ll be my beloved’s bride,

And so it was promised,

By the wind, sea, and salt,

I was confident my beloved,

Looked past my one fault,

 

The lack of voice,

What branded me Siren,

Princess of the mighty sea,

 

By darkest night,

By every fallen star,

My rival crept out the ocean,

Unbeknownst to me,

Carrying my greatest gift,

And took what meant

The most dear,

 

My beloved,

Who looked at me with scorn,

Who felt I was useless and mute,

Loved my rival under the guise of

deadly spells,

 

I could say nothing,

Give no warning,

And so foe wed beloved,

My remaining shell shattered,

 

Grief my only consort,

Hatred my only solace,

My lamentation left me wasted,

These costly legs could no longer

Carry me,

Death beckoned becoming the inevitable,

 

So the Mermaid died,

Far from shore,

Far from her Father,

The mighty ocean,

 

Now only a shadowy spirit,

Haunting what cost her everything,

Her dearly beloved.

 ©Tragedienne Belle Morte 2012