Suits (Camera is focused in on a headshot of a late teen’s male.) Male: Now get this; the dumb bitch wants me to wear a suit… a suit. Now normally I wouldn’t ever call my mum a dumb bitch but a suit, I mean really. (He ducks his head out of the camera shot and can be heard snorting something). I mean. (He pops back into camera shot) why is it even tradition, you know what I mean? Like the only reason people wear suits is because when we’re young people tell us they look smart, like, who even decides that? It’s all semiotics and bullshit man. Ever notice how the shit they teach us we have to buy is the most expensive? The only reason my mum is making me wear a suit is because she was told by her parents it was smart, and they only told her that because their parents had told them that and so on and so on, and now it’s got to the point no one even remembers why we wear them anymore. Crazy shit is man we’re sheep following a shepherd who died generations ago. (He ducks out of camera shot and can be heard snorting something before reappearing). You know what I mean man? (The camera pans out revealing that the male is in a suit shop trying on a suit, with a very terrified looking employee. The employee sheepishly nods.)

Change I used to look at you, And see me, A reflection of a real soul. #15words

Everyone wants to go to heaven but, no one wants to die “Everyone wants to go to heaven, but no one wants to die… that’s why they send me." Michael lay on the uncomfortable mattress of fate that was the church floor. He just laid and waited. He had promised himself that he would not run, he would not hide. He would simply lie here in the judgment of god and await his fate. It had a gun for a mouth its heart was the trigger and its fists the bullets. These were the things Michael had heard about the creature coming for him. So why deny it. The church door let loose a weak groan as it opened, embarrassed it could no longer stop the noises of the outside world polluting the silence. Clunk tap, clunk tap, clunk tap. It approached. Jolts of adrenaline invaded Michael’s old limbs, urging him to move. He ignored the summons, his mind was made. Clunk tap cluck tap clunk tap. It stood over him. Its tattoos danced around its limbs flirting with the flickering candle light. One of its hands loosely held a sawn off, the other slowly removed a cigarette from within the smokey mask that embraced its face. Demon like eyes glared through the smoke. Michael could feel their judgment ripping through his soul mocking his conscious. The smoke faded revealing the creature’s full form to Michael. Michael finally realised it was not a creature but a man. His monster he had built in his mind designed by his imagination was in reality merely a man. He felt the chains of fear that had binded him loosen and he launched his limbs into action in an attempt to stand. Thud. A boot sent him back onto the floor, the chains of fear re-emerged twice as strong to bind him. He tried to breathe but the air would not come. “Did you know Michael, you and I have something in common… we’re both good men.” The man’s face twisted into a wicked grin. “But this is not a time for good men, this is a time for bad men Michael.” Michael could hear voices chatting and hooting merrily outside. “Everyone has a dark place within them, you, me, in fact all the people in this village have it buried inside of them.” He tweaked his head and clicked his tongue. “I am here to lead them to it”. Click…

The knowledge Box “Well if knowledge is power and power is everything why wouldn’t we do it?” “Are you going to do it then?” “I don’t know, you?” “I don’t know” an awkward silence crept into the room smugly embracing the two men. They sat opposite each other at a small table with a cardboard box and small spoon forming a barrier between them. “Can we even say no?” “There seems to be no way out of this room so, maybe not?” The silence snuck back into the room making itself comfortable in the space. The word knowledge hastily scribbled on the side of the box latched on to the two men’s attention and demanded their focus. One of the men snatched up the spoon and held it in front of his eye, a mere inch away. He blinked. For a brief second the box lid seemed to curl upwards, like the lips of a dog awaiting a tasty treat. Hand shaking and breath heavy, the man dropped the spoon back on to the table. “Fuck” “Guessing it’s harder that it looks?” “Of course it fucking is, you try it if you think it looks so easy” “No need to swear” silence returned to the table, back from its brief trip away. “Why are we even fucking here man? How do we even know this will work?” “Well, we don’t, I guess it depends on what we have at stake” “Yeah”. Silence once again slithered over to the table, enjoying the company of the two men. The box seemingly annoyed with silence, once again pulled on the two men’s attention demanding conversation, questions and most importantly a tasty treat. “It’s my daughter” “Excuse me?” “My daughter, she’s why I’m here. She went missing about four weeks ago so, you know, thought this was worth a try didn’t think it involved all this I just, I just need to know where she is” “I understand” “Why are you here?” “It doesn’t matter.” Silence tried a desperate last attempt to lure the two men into awkwardness but the box revealed its trump card, the writing. “I mean Jesus fucking Christ look at it, it’s a box with knowledge scribbled on the side of it like it was written by a four year old. How is this possibly going to help me you or my daughter?” “Appearances can be deceiving” as the man said this he delicately picked up the spoon and closely examined it. “You won’t be able to do it, I wanted to and everyone would say they would do it but it’s different, you know actually doing it.” “Have you ever heard of someone called Odin?” “What does anyone called Odin have to do with this?” “Well you asked how this box was going to help right? You see Odin was a god but even gods can want more, more power, more followers and even more knowledge. Even a god like Odin needed to sacrifice something for knowledge, and guess what he sacrificed?” he clicked his tongue while waiting for a response but there was none. “His eye”. The man slowly moves the spoon closer to his eyes. “He may have given his eye but I would give so much more”.

Flight No Return (100 Word Story) Click. I've been moved. I can't tell where but i can see a light in front of me and i can feel the tight embrace of my restraints. Thud. A sharp pain in my back and suddenly im launched towards the light. I cant help but let loose a piercing screetch as i am propelled into the unknown. But as i hit the light i begin to soar through the sky heading towards a destination not of my choosing. I'm forced to do the reapers work, i guess this is the #life of my kind. A bullet only fly's once.