Thursday 27 December 2012

Malta Comic Con 2012


Malta Comic Con 2012.

Well, this is about the third time I have tried to write about this trip we took to the Malta Comic con 2012, and each time I have failed. To write every intricate detail of our journey would take me forever and I would still miss things out that I feel would be necessary to share, so instead I will give a brief paragraph by paragraph description of the more important events that took place. So, without further ado, I give to you, the story of School of Bitches and their launch of the preview issue at the Malta Comic con 2012.

Stealth sporting some merch. on flight day eve.

Thursday 11 October 2012

Fight Club - Chuck Palahniuk



Fight club is literally my favourite movie of all time, and I had been meaning to read the book in which it was about for a long time but had never gotten around to it until recently. I was never into films and television when I was younger, but Fight Club stirred something up within me and planted a seed that has blossomed and ingrained in me until this day. A vision of what lies behind and below, and expressed in such a clear and exciting way. Fight club was more than a movie, it was an alternative of living, an alternative you almost come to wish upon yourself. It gives you an excuse to do the things to yourself that arm you and halt progress in your life, because after all self destruction is the answer.

I was surprised how short the book was initially, but after reading a number of chapters and understanding the style of writing that was being used, I became to realise why. The story is written almost hastily, moving from one moment to another in quick succession, giving the atmosphere of the book a feeling of anticipation and excitement. It is half diary, half analysis of some unfortunate souls life, which has steadily fallen until he eventually hits rock bottom after finding out too late that the person he has been spending all his time with and listening to isn't actually real, and that he has been on some crazed trip around the states starting up fight clubs that he doesn't remember because he was asleep, and cannot ask about because the first rule of fight club is. . . there is no fight club.

The protagonist (played by Edward Norton in the movie) eventually figures all this out, albeit too late, and tries to stop Tyler Durden (Brad Pitt in the movie) from destroying almost everything. He soon finds out that fight club, turned into Project Mayhem, was now much larger than he had known and his followers soon began to stop him, under his orders, while he was asleep, being Tyler Durden.

The book contains a number of chapters that don't occur in the movie version. Most notably, the first fat that they used to make the soap was not from the liposuction clinic, but from the fat send from Marla's mother to Marla herself, with the belief that she could use it if she was to ever need it in getting implants into her lips. The next is that Tyler Durden had actually gotten Marla pregnant and whilst Tyler on the phone asks Marla what's his name, and have they slept together before, she replies saying that she had his abortion.

The book is well written, but does not flow as well as many other novels, it gets away with it due to the style of the storyline itself and the message it holds within. It can also come across as a story of escapism, and becomes clear that much admiration is shown towards Tyler Durden (everyone knows the name). Other than that, the story itself is set out a lot different to the movie, and would work well together if the movie was 'based upon' the 'diary' which is 'fight club'.

Sunday 7 October 2012

The Stand - Stephen King



The Stand - Stephen King

Finally got round to purchasing Stephen Kings novel 'The Stand'. A novel that for some reason seemed impossible to find in Malta.

The Stand has been a story I have wanted to read for a long, long time, due to the fact that I have the mini-series which I also want to watch but am unable to until I read the book itself and also due to its connections with The Genesis Project through its theme of a post apocalyptic world, and after reading a few hundred pages it was very clear how well written it is (of course when it comes to Stephen King novels I'm always generally a bit bias).

The character development early on is evident as it digs into the lives of a multiple of characters including Stu Redman, Frannie, Larry Underwood and Nick the deaf mute (not called 'Nick the deaf mute in the book, but I forgot his surname for the moment). That's the thing I love about Stephen King novels, the character development, something I find very interesting and important, more important than the actual story plot itself most the time. Which is good because even though I love Stephen Kings work, I sometimes find that a lot of his novels end abruptly and often not convincingly.

Take 'Duma Key' for example, one of the best character novels ever, it literally has hundreds of pages of developing the protagonist for us with only one or two other slightly minor characters before the actual event of the storyline takes place, and ends soon after. Incredible.

Anyway back to the Stand, where the world has been lifted upside down and some savage stuff is happening which portrays the nature of humanity in today's society. A nature which is subdued on a day to day basis and would only surface if events similar to these would take place. It is in our nature to be animals, it is what we are, and it is only because of the laws and society we have built that holds us back from committing these acts, and if those two no longer hold any weight it is all go.

The stand itself is a large book, full from edge to edge of every page with the story. Like a lot of Stephen Kings books 'The Stand'  focuses a lot on the characters of the story and builds up an in depth preview into their personalities throughout the majority of the book while they battle their own beliefs and understanding of good versus evil, of heaven versus hell as 'The Stand' is full of religious references and when it comes down to it, it is  a story full of metaphors for God versus satan.

The Stand spends most of it's time building up the characters in the story on an individual basis, one by one, we learn the story of each protagonist before the final conclusion and all those characters are basically wiped out, except a small number. Basically every main character dies, except Fran, Stu and Tom cullen, which in itself is good because otherwise the story would feel morbid and without hope even though many other survivors survived. those other survivors we only know on a name basis, so therefore do not feel connected or even care about what happens to them.

The book itself could have been much longer if Stephen King had decided to go deeper into each characters story, but because there are so many protagonists, this would become one hell of a task that could have turned The Stand into a strenuous read and a possible bore after the 1300 page mark is reached and you must continue, however the extended version I read was just enough and didn't evoke the sense of disinterest.

It’s a hard job creating a story around so many interloping characters but I feel that it has been done well  at most times here, and it doesn’t feel as though anyone has gotten lost in the mix and simply dropped off too hastily for no purpose. Everyone dies for a reason (albeit sometimes a small reason) and in some way influence the general direction of the story.

I was very pleased to be able to read this story after wanting to get round to it for many years, and am happy to not be displeased, for now I'm going to be taking a break from the world of Stephen King and read 'Fight Club' by Chuck Palahniuk and possibly revisit my all time most influential and favourite novel 'Call of the Wild' by Jack London, before returning to Stephen King with the next instalment of the Dark Tower series 'Wolves of Calla'.

Friday 31 August 2012

The Night Room - Peter Straub


I don't know what it is about this book but i just haven't been able to finish it, in fact i haven't been able to get past the first couple of chapters and i had such high hopes for this novel. I started reading this book a few weeks ago and didn't get too far, i gave up and tried again not long after whilst i was on the plane from Malta to Bristol and managed to get a couple of hours of reading time in and still it didn't stick with me.

The synopsis looks interesting and something that i would enjoy if i got through it all, but i didn't and i'm not going to try again. The main reason i don't like reading this novel is due to the way the speech is set up,

Example;

Instead of 
"Hello little duck, how are you today?" Asked the boy, Peter Straub does it this way;
-Hello little duck, how are you today? Asked the boy.
Using - instead of using speech marks.

Something that i know doesn't take away from the story but has managed to annoy me enough to not read on, if you want a review of this book look elsewhere, if you want to find out what it's about check out Wikipedia.

Monday 6 August 2012

Odd Thomas - Dean Koontz



I feel as though I have been reading a lot of Stephen King books lately, having worked through the first four books of the Dark Tower series whilst reading a number of books in between to extend the journey in which it takes you on, namely Insomnia, The long Walk, Rage, and a number of short stories from Nightmares and Dreamscapes, and Everything's eventual.

So because of this I decided to have a look at something a bit different But where to start when looking for a new author with the hope of not being disappointed and simply returning to what you know and love? by taking the kings advice of course, and that's how I found myself with the first instalment of the Odd Thomas series by Dean koontz, I chose this one simply because I thought the cover looked nicer than the others.

The story is about Odd Thomas  a fry cook in the town of Pico Mundo in the Mojave desert in California, and who has a sort of sixth sense where he can sense and see dead people.

The story occurs over a short period of time, we are introduced to the sense Odd has after he sees a young girl who had been raped and murdered and points Odd towards the culprit who is then arrested.

Odd then goes to work, it's a normal day until he sees the 'Bodachs' which are dark, black shadows of sorts who seem to feed off the violence and evil in the world and seem to be following a certain person in particular. Cutting the story short, Odd follows him, discovers he's a psycho and that evil stuff s going to happen and he begins to try and stop it. Usual type of horror crime story.

The story itself was interesting in the way it was written as I'm used to a far more descriptive style where everything is scrutinized and dissected so we are given the image rather than creating the image ourselves, it was an interesting read but I became increasingly annoyed with Odd's love, Stormy Llewellyn, because she just seemed way too uptight and snobby compared to poor old Odd who just wanted a simple life.

My opinions sure changed when the story took a real dark turn, darker than I expected, yet I am still unsure as to why I found it so dark. I read a segment where odd had just ditched a dead body in an abandoned cult church and was confronted by 4 wild coyotes. . . and a dead naked prostitute.

It was dark and late and I was alone and somehow the way it was written freaked me out.

The story just continued to get darker, Odd goes to see his dad who abandoned him at the age of one and has since spent his life sleeping with girls from the ages of 16 to 18 even though he is almost 50.

That's fucked up!

It's not as fucked up as his mother who he then goes to meet however, his mother is a complete psycho who is incapable of dealing with stress or showing love, and as the entire story is told as a sort of journal entry by Odd after the story occurred, he reveals that she threatened to kill him and herself many times throughout his life and abandoned him also. It's one messed up situation. She's brought across really well as being completely. . .odd.

Odd discovers what's going to happen through the use of his gift and ends up in the mall where he is lucky to surprise one of the people who is about to gun the mall down, he hits him with a bat and one down, one to go.

He makes his way through the mall and hears gunfire. At this point I was thinking "Hmm. . he didn't stop the violence? What's going on Mr Koontz?" which is when I got deeply involved and wanted to shout to Odd and tell him to sort his shit out, even though he had been through a lot already, trust.

Odd shoots the second shooter after he had gunned down a lot of people which resulted in 19 deaths in the mall alone, and he is shot himself whilst falling over a bomb and disarming it. sounds cheesy, but it actually works nicely, it's not realistic, but it's not way out there either.

 I am a guy who reads and writes a lot so don't go out and have all these crazy encounters, so it may very well be possible.

Who knows what lies on the other side of my bed room door?

He wakes up in hospital as a hero, all is well. It is a very dark story and to be honest, even though I am a huge Stephen King fan I would even say that Dean Koontz portrays a much darker and horrific story in such a small time frame than any of Stephen King's books have, except maybe 'Bag of Bones' that is brilliant.

Which leads me on to the final nail in the coffin of the story. Throughout the story, throughout the pains and darkness, Stormy is Odd's love who he plans to marry and who he continuously shows love and affection towards through everything, the sense of true love and even soul mates is put across very well. This makes the story not only a horror, but also a sort of romantic novel also, it's a twisted genre.

Anyway she died, Odd could see her because he sees dead people, but regardless of it being almost predictable it was still the cherry on the cake made of violence and darkness. It finished with you feeling truly sorry for Odd Thomas because his life sucks so bad, and the only comfort he has is that his 'strange' friends all love him. Even so, he is one unlucky guy.

All he wanted to do was become the best fry cook he could be, and eventually work in a tyre store while Stormy owned her own ice cream shop. Simple dreams by very un-simple means.

The story over all was great, brilliantly dark and captivating with a face paced flow that creates an atmosphere around all the characters. Dean Koontz, top author, highly recommend it.

He also does children's books. . . . .honest.

Saturday 4 August 2012

Loving Ghosts - Chris Le Galle



Right before I start this review of Loving Ghosts by Chris Le Galle I feel as though it is my duty to tell you that he is a friend of mine, he had given me this story after I last met him and I said I'd give it a go.

 It's been a few weeks until I actually got round to reading the 38 page story, not because I didn't want to read it, but because I had other stuff to read and was busy with writings of my own and as I didn't know what Loving Ghosts was about I wasn't in too much of a hurry to start - sorry Chris.

However, I started reading it properly today and the first thing that you notice is the way it is laid out. There is a collected paragraph followed every time by a single line or phrase which very cleverly connects one paragraph to the next and is very interesting to see how smooth it made the story flow. I don't know if this was intentional or not, but it really worked well with the style of storytelling where protagonist (and unluckily named) Dick Little tells of meeting his childhood love by chance.

I saw where this story was going (or so I thought) and sighed, here we go again another one of those love stories where the hero meets his soul mate and steals her away from her fiancé before she can make the biggest mistake of her life, but it didn't go that way at all.

No, no, it hinted at it but procrastinated along the way, and that's where the real strength of the story, for me lies. The story is REAL. The protagonist isn't some sort of perfectly irresistible hunk who sweeps the girl of her feet, and she isn't some too pretty and pert woman either.

They both fuck up, and things are dragged out (in the story, not the way it's wrote) and that's what happens in real life. we are shown in movies that love at first sight is real, and finding that soul mate is as simple as walking up to them and carrying them away as though they were simply a pack of crisps on the shop shelves.

Chris' use of words and connections with modern music, movies and pop culture create a real atmosphere despite not really explaining the environment, atmosphere or anything really in too much detail. At the same time the only things that are explained (except the women) are the grey offices and the luxurious gardens where the wedding reception is held, are explained so simply that they flow well with the storyline but at the same time seem to burst an image of the grandeur  and monotony of it all in a positive way.

The thing I like about it most is that its real, and because of that it is captivating for someone like myself who lives in Malta.

The Maltese culture is shown perfectly through the mismatch of Italian and English influences and interests. Dick is a drinker, a smoker and does drugs like all of us do regardless if we are able to admit it or not, also it's a story I can relate to (I've had no wedding yet, but similar) and for that it feels as though Mr Dick Little, the seemingly unluckiest guy alive, is one of the most real characters I have read in a story for a while, and all done without really knowing what he looks like or what he really does.

This is what makes this short story powerful and the reason it is captivating and enjoyable. It is unpublished, so therefore unavailable to read unless you ask Chris for it yourself, so I could be making this all up and have never read a story like it in my life and just felt like filling up some time.

However , it is real, trust. It finishes with some reviews which highlight why I think Chris is a great person who isn't afraid of a laugh. I shall finish with a couple of my favourites, farewell.

“The author is living proof, that sometimes capital punishment can be justified. Yes it is that bad” – Jack Pink, The Business Weakly

“A collection of pointless gibberish by someone who desperately needs a shag” – Jack Blue, The Net Nation.

“Buy it only to annoy those on your hate list” – Jack White, The Mundane Times.

“The only words worth reading in this story are; the end” – Jack Yellow, News of the Word.

Sunday 29 July 2012

The Long Walk - Richard Bachman



The Long Walk - Stephen King (Written as Richard Bachman.

The long walk is an early story written by Stephen King under the pseudonym Richard Bachman and is the second story in the collection titled 'The Bachman books'.

It is a story set in what would seem to be some sort of totalitarian world where young men volunteer to be a part of the long walk, a yearly contest where the competitors must outlast all of their rivals to be the last remaining contestant, in which case they will receive all their worldly desires from the Major who seems to be the leader of this Dystopian modern day America, which has an alternative version of history in which we are hinted at when it mentions the Nazis bombing of the American mainland. . .and another thing I forgot.

Raymond Garranty is the main protagonist in the story who we meet from the very beginning as the race starts, we begin to be introduced to the other protagonists early on during the hour in which the contestants wait to start and then throughout the story itself.  He becomes friends with a couple of the runners as they begin. The story slowly begins to introduce you to the importance of the race itself without actually telling you anything about it except that the whole country will be watching, and that it is an honour.

We feel the excitement of the competitors and all are generally arrogant and confident as they begin, but as they realise how difficult it is to keep a speed of more than 4 miles an hour until the very end, regardless of injuries or interferences, then the confidence begins to abandon them one by one.

I had read nothing about this book prior to reading it, and was only reading it between books of The Dark Tower series to ensure I won't get bored of them, so I wasn't too sure what to expect so when the first competitor gets a 'Charlie horse' (which I guess is a cramp?) and receives three tickets, one issued every 30 seconds, and falls behind before being shot in the head with a carbine rifle, it was safe to say I had to reread the last page just to confirm that it had happened so unexpectedly and heartlessly.
Of course, if people knew anything about the book then it wouldn’t have come as much surprise, but I didn’t.

The second competitor is killed by the truck of army men that follow alongside them, because he had blisters and could not continue. At this point the audience and spectators began to grow, all there in hope to see some volunteer competitor be gunned down.

I thought it was a rather brutal thing to happen and reminded me of those prison movies where people race to death to try get out of prison, all of it seems to be to please and honour the Major.

Then as I continued to read on as the runners dropped off, some by trying to escape, some due to injuries and exhaustion, I began to see that maybe there was some sort of satirical logic behind it. Even though it is not real and is merely a story, I still continued to read because I began to favour some characters more than others and began to actually want some of them to be killed off in order for my preferred characters to continue and hopefully win.

I thought that may be Stephen Kings message in the story? But I found nothing on the internet regarding this theory, either way I feel that the story itself had some sort of message despite not being well written (Wow, I didn't think I'd ever hear myself say a Stephen King book is not well written). I continued to read because I wanted my guy to win, and the rest to die, and I guess that's what makes a good book in the end, it makes you want to keep reading.

My guy didn't win, the seemingly disengaged hometown boy Garraty won after Stebbins, the runner up, simply collapses dead for a reason we are not told. It was a very sudden ending as the book finishes about a page or two after while we read how Garraty finds the energy to just keep on running.
I didn't want too much more of an ending, but I did want to have some sort of thin closure, as in, was Garraty stopped and then was simply held up after giving a brief struggle? cause surely they would have stopped him running. That's all I needed.

Over all I think it was a good book which to me did hold some sort of satirical message within, but at the same time I do believe that it wasn't very well written in some places.

But hey, this is Stephen King and I'm merely a wannabe so who am I to judge, that's just my opinion, but in my defence the book was refused by publishing companies and was only released after Stephen King became THE STEPHEN KING, and it was released under his pseudonym.

Yeah that's it, moral of the story is don't volunteer to an event with 99 other people where anyone who doesn’t win gets their heads blown off because you probably won't win.  

Thursday 28 June 2012

The Ashen King



 I haven't posted anything up on this blog for awhile and that's mainly due to me attempting to write a few stories to bind together as a hard copy and send to a few people as gifts, and the gift wouldn't be that good if they've already read the stories, and i think only people i have and will never meet in America and Germany it seems read this or those close friends, so that's why nothing on here is really edited or complete.

Saame goes for this story, here is the first draft, the more completed version is a bit longer and more defined with a bit more mystery and darkness but that version will be available in time.

Two stories from my proposed binding are fully complete, editing and all, 'A mothers Love' and 'The Fall of Moit', but then there is others that just need editing like 'The Ashen King' and 'Blood lust', and then there is another one which isn't even finished being written yet that will be a part of it, and will also be a part of the S.O.B. universe titled 'Highly evolved'.

Then could possibly do an edit of 'Police Interview' then i think that would be enough for me. There is a good mix of dark categories and fantasy in those stories.

Monday 4 June 2012

A Mothers Love



A young boy is riding his trike down the street outside his house, he is very excited to be allowed outside but his mother said to stay where she can see him from the window.  He had gone up and down on his side of the road a half dozen times or so, stopping every now and then to look at the other kids playing along the street.

A young girl about the same age comes up to speak to him, maybe they could play together on their trikes he thought. She said her name was Roxy and that she liked his trike.

Before the conversation got any further his mother came running out of the house shouting and screaming at him to get inside.

"Ryan! get inside now!" then dragging him back in the house cursing the young girl as she did.

Thursday 31 May 2012

Death Watch - Chapter One


Chapter One

". . .Police are suspecting that last night's killing of Maxwell Davenport was caused due to a robbery. . ."

The television crackled in the background, the young lady on the screen staring back out of it, her black hair neatly tied back, and her voice clear and demanding. The human voice, a powerful tool of communication informing the world of the truths that lay hidden in the cracks of society if not told otherwise.

". . .It is believed that there are no leads at this point and forensics have been combing the area since the body was discovered in the early hours of this morning . . ."

Finding evidence in a filth ridden alleyway downtown? Good luck.

The television with which the ladies upper half seemed to suspend sat on a small stand in the corner of the room, with a balcony with white sliding doors to its right that looked out at the city from a few stories up. A sofa lay against the wall to the right of that again, brown, leather, plain. There was no carpet, and except for the tiny coffee table next to the sofa there was nothing else in the room really worth mentioning.

". . . No suspicious fingerprints were found on the body of Maxwell himself or on any of his possessions. . ."

Adjacent to the lounge area was a small kitchen, white and tiled with wooden wall units situated on every available space where the fridge was not situated - the lounge end of the bar. There was no wall dividing the lounge and the kitchen, instead there was a small bench with a fake marble counter top that could be used with stools on social occasions. On the counter was the remnants of this morning's breakfast, a large plate of beans, eggs, tomatoes and mushrooms on toast, all smothered in brown sauce.

". . .If you have any information that may help authorities in the case of Maxwell Davenport then please call the number at the bottom of your screens now or report to your local police station. . ."

With a slight murmur the only occupant of the house got up to his feet, discarded the dishes into the kitchen sink and turned down the hallway  switching off the television with the remote as he passed. Straight ahead was the door to the outside world, to the right was where he slept, and to the left just past the bathroom was the room where he was currently heading. Inside the room was dark, a pull chord light was the only source of illumination and lit the room to a stagnant glow without the help of the windows (which were blocked by a thick set of dark red curtains - almost maroon). Looking ahead towards the curtains with its back to the door was the large desk with a computer and large piles of paperwork. The paperwork continued all around the room, files and documents and folded newspapers lay in a display of organised chaos and continued half way up the walls.

The walls were all covered with the clippings from newspapers and internet print outs, assorted crime files and stories regarding crimes committed and criminals involved or suspected, all connected with push pins and red string.

The person walked up to the wall with a permanent marker in hand, staring at the wall for a moment or two before revealing a small smile.

"One more down, bye bye Mr Davenport"

And with that a profile picture of max was crossed out and next to him a similar built male was staring back at Max's killer, expressionless and unconcerned.

"And you're next"

Thursday 10 May 2012

Death Watch (Prelude)


Tic-Toc, Tic-Toc.

Tic-Toc, Tic-Toc.

Max had started to hear the sound of the ticking clock shortly after leaving the his brothers storage lot, a hidden shell of a building accessible from down a dark alleyway off the main road of downtown. The smile had now disappeared off of his face as he realised the time and thought of his wife and how she would be thinking of him coming home so late without so much as a call or a text to explain why. The guilt soaked out of his pours and made his mind race with the pounding of his heart. He didn't do this often, he couldn't, but slowly over time the intervals in between visits had begun to lessen as his services were needed more often due to the impending arrival of the sacred day.

Tic-Toc, Tic-Toc.

Tic-Toc, Tic-Toc.

That bloody ticking. Where was it coming from? It seemed to be getting louder and louder the more he walked. The sound of his beating heart seemed to intensify with the growing volume of the ticking circling around him, and he got the creeping feeling that he wasn't alone, that someone was out there watching him in the dark of night.

Max began to quicken his steps and broke into a run as his heart continued to try and release itself from his chest. Behind him the sound of a rubbish bin being thrown against the wall was heard but he daren't turnaround from sheer fright. He ran and ran and suddenly in front of him just out of the street lights reach in the alley a figure appeared and stood still in the cold of night, staring.

"Who are you?" Max asked "What do you want?" shouting now.

The figure kept still. In the black of the night it was impossible to confirm but Max knew he was staring straight into his eyes, reading his thoughts and examining his mind.

The figure took a step forward, Max took a step back. And the streets became silent except for the sound of that ticking.

Tic-Toc, Tic-Toc.

Tic-Toc, Tic-Toc.

Max went to turn and run but before he could take a single step the figure was upon him and holding him by the shoulders.

"You're not going anywhere Mr Max" whispered the figure.

Max let out a scream of pain as his shoulders were almost crushed under the grip which was being places upon him by this unknown assailant.

"Please no! you can have my money, take it! take it all! just please don't hurt me!"

The figure continued to hold Max by his shoulders, and if he was situated in front of him he would be able to see the sheer cowardly terror in Max's eyes as he waited for his possessions to be stolen.

Oh how shameful! How would he explain this to his wife? How would he explain what he was doing in this part of town at this time of night? Oh the shame.

The figure increased the pressure on Max's shoulders until he was on his knees facing into the darkness of the filth ridden alleyway. Max was now crying, the ticking. That fucking ticking!! 'Make it Stop!'

"No, I don't want your money Mr Max. Money is nothing more than an invented parasite to me and I don't want to be touched by your filth. . but Mr Max I assure you I will take it all"
"Please. . No. . Don't" Max murmured through unrestrained sobs.

"That lovely wife of yours, I bet she wouldn't like to find out what you have been up to tonight would she?"
"Wh-what?"
"Don't worry, I never told her. . and she'll never know either. I can promise you that"
The ticking had become deafening and for Max it drowned out everything around him, even the beating of his pounding heart and the flowing of sobs.

The figure had let go of Max and pulled out a pocket watch from his hoodie. A silver pocket watch that was scratched and fading but was the only possession he owned, the only thing he cared about, it was his reason for living.

"You heard it didn't you Mr Max? retribution comes to those who hear the ticking of the watch"
With that the figure removed a pistol from his hoodie with the other hand and pointed it to the back of Max's head, and whilst Max knelt there in his guilt and sorrow he just wished for the sound of the ticking to disappear.

Tic-Toc, Tic-Toc.

Tic-Toc, Tic-Toc.

"Please. . ."

"Say hello to your wife for me"

And with that the ticking stopped with a single shot.

Wednesday 9 May 2012

Clifftops.

Day 1.

The water looked so inviting, so beautiful under the glow of the moon overhead. How could something be so dangerous, so terrifyingly vicious yet so elegant in it's flow and the way in  which it caresses the cliff walls with such delicacy.

Day 2.

The world is so beautiful by night, so peaceful and comforting. The rush of people too ignorant to give you the time of day or stop to pick you up from the ground is dormant and absent at this time. The only rush that remains is the gentle breeze that drifts across the land to gently brush the earth of all it's sins and   numerous infidelities.

Tuesday 8 May 2012

Willow trees


The Willow trees hung softly in the breeze, swaying to the tune of life without a vanish completely at times to reveal an almost playing field looking area of grass, and around the entire environment were four walls of foreboding dark hedges made of pine trees which reached up at a great height.

Inside this microcosm lived three small groups of people each occupying their own corner of the lake and living generally in harmony, never really making contact with each other unless necessary.

Slowly over time however as the lake shifted it's location, disappeared and reformed always guided by the watchful eyes of the willow trees, the people started to interact more regularly as they grew in size and inevitably grew closer together.

Monday 7 May 2012

Police interview




"So we hear you're lawyer has revoked your plea and is now saying you are guilty. What made you change your mind?"

"Have you ever killed a man Mr Ryan?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It has everything to do with it, if you have not killed a man you will not understand the answer to the question in which you ask. How am i to tell you my reasoning if you have not felt the power in your hands, or watched as a life was taken away by your own doing"

"Yes. I've killed a man"

Wednesday 28 March 2012

Exodus 1.0 - The Rise and Fall of Moit.

The first instalment of Exodus.

In a world where law is enforced by the gun and people are divided by mistrust and violence, Cardiff remains isolated from the outside world ever since 'the events' took place.

A small commune has survived and has become aware of a warp in reality which they cannot explain, whilst still struggling to survive day to day in the post apocalyptic world around them.

Thursday 22 March 2012

Under Crimson Skies



The spring air blew through the open door and set the draped curtains off in a drift, swaying back and forth as the breeze slowly delegated its direction within the natural order. Inside the room I lay on my bed, flat on my back staring up at the white plaster ceiling considering my next move. Thinking of how I should proceed in the vast cycle of life, my head was full of uncertainty and betrayal, the gentle breeze drifting around me felt relieving. A subtle touch against the skin to calm the nerves and clear the mind for what the next stage in life would bring.

I had had enough of this town and its deep misunderstanding of the ways of life and nature, with their riches they are poor, void of any art, void of any natural gifts which god bestowed upon this earth during genesis. It was left barren of taste and in a messy state of neglect. Of course from the outset you could mistake the town for a prosperous and vibrant village, but lies had become common place in a world where drugs and betrayal had become law.
In the inner visions of my mind my father came before me with my mother by his side, they looked at me with expressions of acceptance, i saw my brother to their side and i knew. I shed a tear and with a blink of an eye they were gone.
'May revenge become justice, and may my tears become prayers that what happened here never happens again, to anyone, anywhere'.