Fiction

Three Days of McKay – Part Two

By Edele Winnie

McKay came back the very next day. Hester was going out for breakfast, which today meant black coffee. There was a young man seated on a bench across from her building. He was wearing shiny black pants, a black shirt and black boots. His hair was dyed black. She could not see how tall he was because he was sitting.

“I took your advice,” he said to her as she passed. “Got some new clothes.”

He stood up then, painfully short McKay, all blacked out. It caught Hester by surprise and she almost said something but bit her tongue instead. They walked together in silence. Entered the coffee shop one after the other, sat at the counter on stools side by side. He ordered what she was having. The barista asked if they wanted separate bills. She said yes. He said no.

She turned to him. “Okay, let’s get through this. This isn’t going to work, you know? I don’t need a boyfriend. And I don’t want you.” (more…)

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Three Days of McKay – Part One

By Edele Winnie

“I will slash my legs!” McKay shouted. He held a pathetically small pocketknife above his jeans. “I will slash them wide open!”

Hester sighed. “Go for it.”   She pulled out her much more substantial switchblade and threw it at him. “This’ll do more damage. Go for it.”

It had been a torturous three days. McKay had first appeared at an art exhibition opening put on by an ex-boyfriend of Hester’s. She had come of course, because several of the paintings were nudes of her, but also because she wanted to see who he was dating . She hung on the edges of the chatting drinking crowd; a tall thin scarecrow girl dressed in black with stringy dyed black hair and rather nice black boots with silver buckles. McKay approached her, dressed in jeans, like he wore now, and a green plaid shirt.   But it wasn’t just his clothing that marked him as out of place- or his short stature- or the no-nonsense cut of his boring brown hair -he seemed to be bouncing off things like a demented ping pong ball. (more…)

The Uninvited Guest

By Joey Jules

Stephen stood at the entrance with his hand on the door nob. He was growing tired of the conversation. I told you, you have the wrong place.” he said for the second time to the man standing on his front porch.

I know what I saw, and this is the right place! The man exclaimed. “You have my wife and she is in there, so let me in or I will go through you if I have to!”

Stephen frowned. “Listen sir, I don’t know you or your wife. She is not here. You need to leave right now!”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “I will see her again, and believe me, you and me are not through with each other!” The man turned around, stepped off the porch in a huff and stormed away.

Stephen sighed. He watched the man walk down his gravel driveway until he was out of sight,  and shut the front door,  engaging the lock with a click. The last light of the day was shone through the cabin window. He went and sat on the sofa and lit himself a cigarette, inhaling deeply and savoring the sensation of nicotine running through his veins. (more…)

Through the Blinds, Darkly

By Edele Winnie

Through the broken window blind she could see his mouth. Just his mouth, as he frowned, as he ate, as he smiled.   She did not know what his eyes looked like. She had never seen his face, or his body. Never heard his voice or saw his hair. Just his mouth. The lips. The teeth, sometimes the sneak of the tongue. And she fell in love.

It seemed crazy. She was a reasonably normal young woman, a bit on the scrawny side, brown hair and brown eyes with an unfortunate penchant for the dramatic- but only when it came to love, she reminded herself.   Love was some kind of a drug and she could not stop watching his mouth through the blinds.

Was it an obsession? She started out thinking that it was not. It was just curiosity. A tiny peek into another house, another person’s life. She did not know her neighbour, had not known that it was a man with a mouth like that. A mouth made for kissing, for saying I want you beside me always. (more…)

Cheater, Cheater

By Jessica Gouin

Brent and Elle couldn’t have asked for a more perfect night. Every element was planned and went off without a hitch. It was rare to have more than an hour or so alone together and even rarer when nothing went wrong. That should have been their first inkling that that particular evening would be the worst night of their lives.

“Oh god. Oh god, Sophia! What have we done?” Elle whispered frantically to Brent as they stared down to the bottom of the basement floor from the kitchen doorway.

Brent’s chest expanded and retracted rapidly. He wondered if this was what a heart attack felt like. His entire body was numb, except for the pounding in his chest.

“Shit! It was an accident. I didn’t mean it.” He said more to himself than to Elle.

“You shouldn’t have pulled her away from me that hard.”

Eyebrows raised at her accusation he said slowly. “She was going to kill you. I freaked out. I didn’t mean to hurt her. I didn’t mean to do any of this.” (more…)

Soul Collector

I barely let him get into the cab before I push her into him, “It seems that fate has finally caught up with you Mr. Collins,” I peer at him through the rear view mirror.

“Who are you?” he demands.

“Yes, I can imagine that my face has faded from your memory,” I say, “Much like that of the innocents that have suffered at your hands, much like those of my people.”

“Your people?” Silence fills the car as I put her in drive and start to pull away, “Where are you taking me?” he asks.

“Look down?” I call to him, watching as his eyes finally register what has happened, “Do you recall where you were twenty years ago?”

“How can this be?” he asks.

I twist the blade which causes him to react violently, “I know a great many things about you – actually I know everything about you,” I continue to look forward as we drive, “By the end of the night you will be dead,” I speak with certainty, “First we are going on a trip down memory lane.”

“Fuck you,” he spits, as I simply add pressure to the blade that is wedged through the front seat directly into his stomach, causing him to flinch in pain.

“What do you want? Who are you?”

“What I want should be obvious,” I continue, “As for who I am well that is the question isn’t it?”

“You know who I am?”

I slowly pull to a stop turning on the inside lights, “I know exactly who you are, you are the man responsible for taking me away from my mission, you are the man who is responsible for turning me into what I am today,” I sigh, “Where were you twenty years ago?”

“Twenty years ago,” he starts, “What are you?” his question trails off.

“I see you are remembering.”

“It can’t bed,” he stutters, “no one survived, I killed everyone.”

“You thought you killed everyone,” I turned around letting him see my face for the first time, “you really should have gotten all your facts straight before you came into my home.”

“Impossible,” he says as he sees the scars across my face.

“Nothing is impossible,” I reply, “Did you even bother to learn anything about my people before you set out to slaughter them,” I ask.

“It wasn’t you I was after,” he says, “It was the sword, you were just collateral damage.”

“Collateral damage,” I scream, “You killed my people and all you can say is we were collateral damage.”

“Wait you can’t kill me,” he pleads.

“Why not?”

It goes against your –”

I cut him off before he can finish, “Against my what,” I yell violently, “My code, What code? After you slaughter my people and leave me for dead, after you turned me into this?”

“Then why not just get on with it and kill me,” he challenges as I see a spot of blood at the corner of his lip.

“Do you know the legend of this sword?” I ask him, “Did you even know what you had when you first took it?”

“It’s just a sword.”

I shake my head as I proceed to twist it once more causing him to scream, “No Mr. Collins,” I start, “It is much more than just a sword, she is called ‘Soul Collector'(.) (D)do you know why?”

“Some kind of superstitious bullshit,” he spits out as blood foams from his mouth.

I start to laugh, “You know nothing, nothing at all,” I turn away from him, “You know I can never die, on that day I was the first person to feel your wrath, as you entered the sacred room and took the blade,” I pause, “you didn’t see me as I slept on the floor behind the altar, but I felt your wrath as I was consumed by the fire you set.”

There is a long silence before I look upon him again, I can see the blood pooling even more upon his lips and realize my time is short, “I want you to know that even though I blame you for slaughtering my people,” I pause, “I know you did so at the behest of others, I want you to know that when you are gone, when your soul is resting with my Brothers and Sisters, I will seek those others and they will join you.”

“You have no idea who you are dealing with.” he whispers.

“Oh I do,” I state matter-of-factly.

“How?”

“You know it took me more than three months to get out of that valley, after I pulled myself out of the charred remains of my home, I mean” I push forward. “My body was weak, well as weak as that of a twelve year old, but I pushed forward, my mind was blank then, I had nothing, only knowing that I could not die – so I just walked.”

“When I thought I could walk no more I became delusional, seeing the ghosts of my people, hearing their pain within my soul,” I continue to look into his eyes. “Hearing all their screams, experiencing all of their pain was enough to drive me insane.”

“When my walk was done, I found myself on the streets of Shanghai, this is just before the second world war,” I stop again to reflect. “I saw a lot of change happen over that time. To survive I became a common street thief, stealing from the unsuspecting, – that was until I met her,” I pause again. “She found you for me.”

“Who is she?” his breathing short desperate.

“She’s the reason I am here today,” I continue to reflect. “The war had come and gone, China was becoming a much different place and I happened upon a mark that could read me better than I could read her,” I smile. “The way she flipped me using all the tricks of the east I am a warrior, I could not die and a western woman, lets just say she showed me a few things.”

“Who is this woman?”

“Karla Windcroft,” I finally answer, “she took me in, she brought me back here and raised me, she taught me how to live my life again,” I pause, “but she also knew that one day it would come to this, that I would have to finish this chapter of my life,” I pause. “When she wasn’t traveling the world on one adventure or another she was here helping me to find you. I think she realized it was better to help me rather than let me go off unprepared into the world.”

“Why would she even care?”

I smile as I twist the blade again cause more pain and even more blood to pool, “Why because we had something in common, I not you in particular, you were mine, but something,” I speak briskly as I know the time is almost at hand. “I was afraid that I wasn’t going to be prepared for you tonight. We found out that you were going to be here but something was missing.”

“What?”

“Her,” I say as I look down upon the sword that stood between us, “I could not find her after you took her away from me, I would have killed you one way or the other but Karla had a gift for me. She never told me, but while she was out in the world without me, she was seeking ‘Her’.”

“Mr. Collins are you ready?” I say, “Do not worry,” I tell him as I slowly pull the sword up ripping through his chest, “They will be joining you soon.”

“Who?”

“Those set you on this path,” I say calmly, “Those people who feel they can destroy innocence, that they can take as they please without recourse.” I look into his eyes, “Do you know why they call her ‘Soul Collector’?” he shakes his head. “Well you will soon,” I say as I rip her out of his chest stealing his last breath along the way.