acid

Written

I was trying to free a woman from a barrel of acid she was chained to. I’m part of a team trying to do this. we struggle on the rocks of a wide river enclosed by steep wooded slopes. cliffs hang over us, and a high metal bridge. acid begins to drip from tubes and pipes and burn our flesh as we try to save her. we are slipping into the water and our skin is melting and we keep trying.

I lay in bed listening to music. my emotions get so big I can hardly hold it. my whole life I was crushed under a huge sadness. I try to fly free. My highest goal is to create something beautiful. it breaks me as it moves through me. it puts me back together. I need to claw and hurt and show. I am weak but stubborn. Everything I predicted as a child came true. dreams are the hardest thing to hold onto because they hurt the hands and the heart, deeply. I need to show you…

throat secrets

Written

This is part of 18ft Leash: Scout’s Honor but it stands alone too. picture by evan.

✦

When your parents adopted, you finally had someone to share your secrets with. Two boys whispering in the nooks of a big, sterile house that still seemed like no one lived there, transplanted whole from civilization to this diseased atoll and sealed up with air conditioning.

Cancer wasn’t some piece of snot you grew up with, already tired of you, desensitized to your specialness. He was a brother gift-wrapped and opened on xmas day. Eager as a puppy, so impressed by everything you showed him. He didn’t know how to use a microwave, and it made you feel superior, and you knew he wouldn’t make fun of anything you said because he didn’t know better. But it was the weak stomach that really brought you together.

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cunt toward enemy [s3e2] dehiscence

Written

Lazur sits in a cramped office, facing a desk with an empty seat. There is a CRT security monitor on the desk playing cartoons. He is exhausted. He can’t sleep. He has to wait for it to ambush him, when all hope is gone.

Dynamite rains behind his eyelids. Scarred lips chewing on a hissing red stick like Bugs Bunny, smearing it like lipstick. Lazur’s head hangs back, mouth open. He is so tired. Wile E. Coyote just made a bunny sexbot full of dynamite to lure that nymphomaniac Bugs Bunny. Bugs counters with a coyote sexbot. They’re just looking for love. They’re crazy about each other.

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18ft leash: scout’s honor

Written

START

We must sacrifice with all our hearts.
Even if others do not know us.
We must fight to save the world.
— unknown man sitting in front of the church at Zitlala

✦

That blond boy is going to save the world. His birth was preordained. The breakers of hope and the eaters of love, slithering and wet and as long as your intestines are, long as they need to be—they don’t stand a chance. His secret club met after school and devised a plan. And he—the greatest scout of all, with so many badges, kind and intelligent, strong and quick, devoted to God and beloved of angels—put it into action. He did everything right. And he has by God he has the power of friendship.

That blond boy is tied up in a garbage bag.

Only Cancer remains.

✦

You smell him a mile away, wearing his stomach for lip gloss. In a shaft of atoll sun, merciless except where the trees cut it, bleeding shadows across those slender legs. A tight little backpack throws his back back, leather straps with steel snaps digging into the soft wet clam meat of his armpits.

His ribbon-bound neck sweats from gym class, and the strain of throwing up. Rape whistle sticks to his soaked white shirt, clinging to the nearly-translucent hollow of his sternum. His teeth peek out, pastel braces wrapping his overbite in colored bands of tight rubber. He sees you, and thick dark eyebrows dig into his skull.

18ft Leash

scout’s honor

✦

For over countless myriads of aeons
I have been cut, stabbed, burned,
And flayed alive innumerable times
But I have not awakened. 
— Bodhisattvacaryāvatār

✦

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Ragweed Roundup

Written

⭐ thanks everyone who got TORTURE WORKS! it is a very PRETTY BOOK inside and out, made with GREAT LOVE. it is a good way to read my stories of the last decade in an attractive format, and an auspicious TRANSITION to the next phase of our operation, a new wave of fresh, unclotted fluid.

I’m very proud of the layout and everyone who worked on it. I chose Averia Libre because it is a rare font that has personality but is also readable. I hope it added to the dreamy, sweaty feel…

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Civet Servant

Written

200 degrees of boiling water distilled with a concentrate of magnesium sulfate and sodium bicarbonate, ordinator-programmed for exact temperature control, heated in an industrial-class boiler, blasts through a stainless steel metal filter into Riparian’s cup, spurting from the leather and mahogany and rose gold $4000 coffee maker, complete with burr grinder and steam wand.

The dark-haired man dips his nose into the darkness of the cup, and inhales. His heart beats faster, as if the caffeine was already in his bloodstream. His eyes dilate over the ceramic rim, stark and creased as if sleepless from the womb.

☕

cunt toward enemy [s3e1] business casual

Written

Parsani notes that the premature birth of Ahriman is in fact an allegory for the self-introspection of Time (Zurvan) into its more abysmal scales…
— Reza Negarestani, Cyclonopedia

✦

Greenwich is showering. The concrete floor and gritty sand makes her think of a beach shower. But there is no ocean, only the black sea of petroleum beneath her feet in this desert bunker.

She opens her eyes and her skin gives her vertigo. Serpents barely visible in the murk of deep waters. The qatran is feeding off the violence like a school of red garra. She remembers going with her mother to a salon (the lull of fans and a corner-mounted TV and some toys sticky with other children’s fingers) and her mother’s feet going in a basin of fish which nibbled away the dead skin.

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