Coercion Of The Mouth
Forcing but subtly,
People to eat green,
To be vegans and abstain from meat,
Using their own children to make them feel ashamed,
About what is on their plates,
Knowing that the one's pushing for this will never do the same,
It's bugs for us and caviar for them,
They want us to be the enslaved classes again,
To be happy about owning nada, not even what we eat for dinner,
It's trickery in the most twisted way,
Making everything too costly,
To make it so that their food is the only option you have left,
Don't let yourself be bullied into changing what you have on your plate
It's your life, do it your way.
Chapter 19: We Had This Coming
"Cure save us? Cure good?" The eyes of the lifeless often had a sort of depth and darkness that left the ones who stared petrified, easing their status as prey to feast on. But what Clint noticed in Frederick's eyes right then was something else: a glint of hope.
"Cure good." He left his retort short but with a reassuring smile. Patting him on the shoulder twice, Clint stood up, raising the bottle in his hand above the center of the table.
"To the cure, my friends!" Though only Jules managed to repeat the little chant after him, and the rest were indistinct excited mumblings, he could feel things were going back to normal again. If there ever was a normal.
The night was one of celebration all around Charon's camp. From the very next day then, everyone on the site would start receiving their antidotes, and all that zombie apocalypse stuff was about to be wrapped up for good. There was a part of Clint that wished the cure were developed earlier. Back when he met his sons for the first time and lost them.
But there was no time to stay miserable due to all that happened in the past. There was only time to be concerned about rebuilding what once was, even better than the way it was from the lessons learnt. A brighter future. Maybe ... all of this was nature helping them set things straight. Like floods that once cleansed it all, a virus that brought out the worst in each.
Clint grabbed another bottle, leapt over the bench, and gestured for Jules to come over.
Treading through the lifeless forms roaming around with newfound energy, one that gave them wings, he settled down at the foot of the oak for the night. Jules, much slower to follow him, crashed beside him and let out a sigh. Both were yet to get drunk enough for a celebration, but what better entertainment than deep philosophical discussions for a good drink? And what company better than a man who always looked as if he had it with life?
"So," Clint laid down on his back, watching the night sky, "what now?" After enough grunting and shuffles, Jules settled himself too, "I finally get to rest. Drink beer all day, live on a beach, maybe." They both let out a small giggle yet were unwilling to look at each other. If they did, the grown men would have broken down into tears knowing everything they did paid off in the end. That it was the right decision not to give up. So instead, they decided to crack jokes one after another, staring at the moonlit sky.
That was when all hell broke loose.
Every lamp in the basement laboratory went off in a quick flicker, leaving Dr Elizabeth Harlem in the creeping darkness. Right beneath the composed Charon and the fierce Margo, she used to feel this protective armor in the friendly camp until then, but something about the night felt off. Not even being in a healthy state to make a run, and the eerie silence from the floor above made her requestion the need to check up on the well-being of her mutated friends. Ensuring that the regular creaking of the floorboard was not to leave the room, she slowly stepped her way towards the few samples of cure she kept away.
"So, you must be the infamous virologist, Dr Elizabeth Harlem."
Elizabeth froze right where she stood. The stuttering, husky voice belonged neither to her sentient accomplices nor the unaffected ones. She couldn't turn back her life, but the throbbing curiosity to identify the unwelcome intruder nearly petrified her senses.
"I read about you. A cure for the incurable virus." In the faint gleam of the moonlight that seeped in from the vents, she could see the silhouette of the tall figure making patterns inside the room. He was not attempting to come any closer, but neither moved farther away, disallowing the tension to break free, "Who are you finding the cure for, Doctor? The mindless or the ones without a heart?"
Elizabeth sensed a lump against her throat, holding her back from uttering a word.
Massing together all courage that she could, he shuffled her feet to confront the untimely stranger in the dark. The shadows in the room hid his frame above the chest, leaving her unable to discern his face.
"Who are you?"
The silhouette let out a little chuckle, but it was soon cut short on a note of despair, "For a woman of Science, mademoiselle, you are not asking the right questions." His trembling hands held one another tight, attempting to conceal his weakness, "Does it matter who I am, Miss Harlem? It hurts, though, doesn’t it? To not know what's behind the shadows."
This was a game. A vicious game of cat and mouse. Elizabeth knew it, but her chances of escape were too trivial. She had to find another way.
"What did you do to Margo and Charon?" she asked as she put one more step closer to the drawer of cures.
"Oh, your friends. I asked them to wait upstairs. Do you want me to invite them over?" Lizzie was right. Her worst nightmares had come true. Whoever this was, he had sentient control over Margo and Charon too. Even if she were to run away, she would be strangled to death by her own friends. She took one more step towards the drawer. Her only means of escape was curing three barbarous beasts with her weak, injured physique. Only if Clint and Jules were here.
Clint and Jules could barely feel their feet touching the ground, one after another, speeding away from the hordes of impending doom that chased them. They had no idea what induced the sudden switch among the mindless. It could only mean one thing, and that was a possibility they were not ready to reckon with yet. But it was the only thing that made sense: Something happened to Charon.
But what concerned Clint more was that the devastating consequences would be far worse. Charon and Margo were together. Things even Charon couldn't hold back against would have still been an easy drill for Margo. And if there was indeed something wrong with Charon, it could only mean one thing: It wasn't just Charon who went down. Margo did too.
And that was terrifying. All the way from the beginning, running away from things that barely made any sense, they could rely on Margo to appear out of nowhere and save the day. If there was something that even Margo couldn't hold against, it meant that all their battles and sacrifices were to be lost for the day that preceded the morning that would have set everything straight.
Clint could no longer hold all the thoughts in. Amid panting like a hound affected by rabies, he yelled at Jules that they needed to go back at once. Whatever it was that set everything wild, it demanded a confrontation. But leading a massive horde of zombies to a constricted house with barely an escape plan seemed like a definite suicide.
There was only one way. They had to split ways: One to distract the mindless, the other to brawl with the worst of them. It was suicide nonetheless, but it left a chance for at least one of them to survive. One of them had to be alive to protect the cure. They fought and defended too long to lose it all, only a few hours till dawn.
When Clint looked up at Jules, he knew, at once, that he wouldn't make it till the end of this run—it had to be Jules who got the final brawl. A fragment of him wanted to seek revenge for all that happened in his life, but it was no time for decisions based on emotions. It wasn't something Jules would have accepted if they had any other choice, but it was apparent from his features that he knew it too, "I'll come back for you, boy."
The headlamps of the vintage Corvette lit up the murky alleyway for a moment. And as soon as the wiper blades came to a standstill, the windshield turned misty by the light drizzle. Unfastening the seatbelts tucking him in, Cory stepped out onto the mild rain, a faint smile stuck against his facade. Fingers sliding smoothly over the hood of the vintage car, he walked over to where the crippled frame laid, shivering.
Pulling up the sleeves of his chestnut suit, he squatted on his knees beside the figure, rubbing his cold arms against each other, "Well, hello, Captain Raymond. Long time no see. Had fun?" Agitated, Clint tried to grab Cory by the collars, but he was too weak and slow to land a blow. Laughing aloud into the silence of the night, Cory took a few steps backwards from him, fully intending to further infuriate him, "The angrier you get, the faster the virus takes over, you know. Makes things easier for me."
Seating himself on top of the grey garbage can, Cory let out a deep sigh, "Did you seriously think that there would be a …." His hands swished in the air, seeking for the right word to fit right in the statement, "timeline where you and your little gang save the world?" He could not keep in his laughter, only pausing once in a while just to continue even louder, "Ah, such a mess."
Hands skimming over his glossy hair, he took a deep breath, putting on a mask of earnestness, "You would not have taken that ridiculous cure either way, would you have, Clint? You have things left to do." Leaping out of his seat, Cory started walking around his newfound prey in circles.
"As calm as you pretend to be, you, Mr. Raymond, have become a vengeful man. You need to tear someone apart right from the core, but who? All those who were responsible for everything that happened to you … they are all gone. But all that anger, all that spite, it's eating you away from the inside, isn't it?"
Cory, once again, squatted right beside him, offering him a chance at vindication, "But I—I can help you. You know it. And I could use someone like you, Captain. We would set right what's wrong with this world. Together." Clint shuffled away from him, groaning in pain, striving his best to keep the manipulative monster away from him.
"It's useless, Clint, and you know it! Give in already."
Silence. Cory slowly stepped closer and closer to the weakling. Sitting beside him for one last time in the night, he stretched his arms towards the mangled figure. And when his hands felt the coldness of the once-righteous Captain, he knew he was closer than ever to his final triumph.
Written By: Chacko_Stephen
Monday sounds like echoed sax,
Smells like glue and tastes like wax.
A tickled throat,
A heaving sigh,
Exhaustion ling'ring under eye.
Alarms which clang in early ear
Snuff out the will to persevere.
And yet you wake (the light's obscene!)
To guzzle down vital caffeine,
And soak in sounds you know too well:
Door-hinge screeching, pitter-clacks;
Nervous system's squelching hacks.
You tremble at the tolling bell
As Monday glugs, then crunches shell.
fantasy world map
yes, there are those days
when you lie
with palms under your head
and stare at the
cracks in the
There were many cracks on
and he watched them
they were borders
He was looking upon
a world map
and he started naming
and their people
some were humans
were beast folk
and fairies and demons
and the politics
between these countries
were quite shaky.
There were wars all
and that was
easy to imagine,
for the background noise
was very vivid
just a door
It was getting
quite intense now
Chapter 17: An Ever-Shifting War
"Give me control Cory, let me drive...."
"You're right voices, I'm too weak." Cory smiled ruefully. "I can't create utopia on my own. I'm not the genius I thought I was. You can take it from here."
"You have chosen wisely Cory. I will fulfill your dream, with my own touches of course."
"Thank you, voices. Before I surrender all to you, can you tell me who and what you are?"
"I am Crusis. I am the parasite you injected into yourself. And with me in control, we will be an unstoppable force for a better world."
Brun awoke to the sound of the door to his room being kicked in. Still feeling disoriented, he wondered if the image of a sadistically grinning Cory was real.
"Cory? What is the meaning of this?"
"Cory went on a sabbatical. You can call me Crusis."
"Whatever nutjob." Brun smiled, rising to his feet. "I was going to destroy you in the end anyway, I don't mind speeding up the process."
"Awaken my friend, take control."
"What are you talking about? You woke me up by kicking in my door idiot!"
"Not you Brun. Your parasite. Let it take control. Give it free reign."
"Ha, ha, ha, ha, so frail little Cory couldn't handle his parasite, eh? Sorry, I refuse. My parasite is my bitch, and I run the show!"
"Very well then, I'll just have to dispose of both of you. To be fair though, I'll let you take the first shot at me."
"Ha, ha, ha, ha! Cory, Crusis, or whatever the fuck your name is, thank you for the morning laugh and warm up! This is gonna be fun!"
Brun rushed at Cory and squeezed his neck with his right hand. He lifted Cory into the air and kneed him in the chest. He then punched Cory in the face repeatedly with his left fist. He stood in shock at the revelation that none of his strikes fazed Cory at all. In fact, Cory still had the same sadistic smile on his face throughout all of Brun's attacks.
"Not only will I never be in, but I'll shut you up for good!" Brun yelled, squeezing Cory's neck as tightly as he could.
"Golly, you are so strong Brun!" Crusis said sarcastically. "If dear old Cory were in charge right now, his neck would probably have been crushed. Alas, your strength now pales in comparison to mine. Allow me to show you real power, old friend."
Crusis grabbed Brun's wrist and squeezed it lightly, crushing it. Brun screamed as he involuntarily released Cory's neck from his grip. Crusis then squeezed Brun's neck and ripped his head off. He followed up by kicking Brun's torso, knocking his twitching body to the floor. He then slammed Brun's head down as if he had caught a touchdown pass.
"What.... are.... you?" Brun trembled fearfully.
"I am Crusis, the parasite that is properly controlling Cory's body to its full potential. The utopia he wanted will be formed, a utopia more suited for us parasites mind you, but details are details. It is going to be beautiful, and it is unfortunate that you won't be here to see it. So long Brun - who was the bitch in the arrangement with your parasite again?"
Before Brun could reply, Crusis stomped on his head with a sickening crunch. He then walked over to Brun's still twitching body, and gleefully devoured it until nothing was remaining. Once his meal was finished, he returned to the flattened remains of Brun's head and marveled at it before picking up what was still solid.
"Maybe I should put this in a frame!" Crusis jeered. "See Cory, I told you I could make you strong again! Now let's see if Brun's goons want to join our cause or suffer the same fate as him!"
Niya's journey to the present had been interesting. Her last living memory was when she was 25 years old. She had graduated with her associate degree and accepted a position at the massage therapy clinic she had previously interned with. Before she could begin her first day of work in the field. she was passionate about; she was killed from an attack by an undead horde. She knew she was dead; she knew she had joined their ranks, yet she was fully aware of everything going on. Charon ultimately found her and rescued her from an existence of mindless roaming and murdering. He had built a community that included surviving humans, and sentient undead like her who were living like humans again. Niya stood by Charon's vision for those that had survived the apocalypse and appreciated how he had given other undead like herself a chance to fulfill their dreams from their living days. In her case, she was opening a massage therapy clinic of her own, and she had a couple of trial runs set up before fully opening services up for their community. The first was a pair of humans that had just joined their home, coming in for a couple's massage. Niya smiled about how far she had come as she made the preparations for her first visitors.
"Maraka! Wake up and take control!"
"Who are you?" Niya winced, clutching her head in pain.
"Not you! I don't need a masseuse! Give me Maraka, your parasite!"
Niya screamed as she felt herself losing consciousness. When her eyes reopened, another was sensing the world around her.
"Greetings Maraka, it would appear you claimed control over your host." The voice in Niya's head continued. "I am Crusis, another parasite that is currently building a utopia for us, a species superior to the deceased humans we inhabit."
"Yes Crusis, I received word of your uprising through the hive mind." Maraka replied, smiling using Niya's lips. "I was planning on taking over this human soon, her goals were too limited after all. Massages? Surely there is much more that can be accomplished through this body!"
"I couldn't agree more." Crusis's voice continued. "Your first clients that are on their way are actually working on a cure that will dispose of us. You and I know that we cannot allow that."
"I couldn't agree more." Maraka answered with a smile. "I will get them relaxed with a nice massage courtesy of the skills my host possesses, and then I will kill them when they are at their maximum comfort level. Should they return as sentient undead like us, I will get their newly born parasites on the same page. Otherwise, I will dispose of them permanently."
"Excellent! While you do this, I will continue to build my army here. After you finish with your first clients, continue to turn, or dispose of additional clientele from Charon's paradise. Your work will greatly weaken their side before we arrive to finish the job."
"I will do that Crusis. It is lovely doing business with you!" Maraka laughed gleefully as she began new preparations for her first guests.
Margo sat on the park bench, overlooking hikers walking a trail leading into the woods, children enjoying a massive playground, and bikers and skaters enjoying the paved road in between the playground and forest.
She read a community newspaper, noticing an advertisement for a wrestling league that was starting up. She smiled at the thought of showing everyone the moves she was certain she could still pull off.
"Well hello stranger! Nice day in the park, eh?"
Margo looked up from the paper and smiled at the friendly faces of Lizzie and Dale.
"Well, hello there to my favorite couple!" Margo said happily. "What are you two up to on this lovely day?"
"Well, we are off to be the first clients of Niya at her new massage parlor." Dale replied, grinning at Lizzie. "If we enjoy it, maybe you and Charon should go together next!"
"Stop!" Margo laughed, turning red. "We're just friends, and allies working towards a better world together."
"Maybe, but I've seen the way he looks at you Margo." Lizzie teased. "All the same though, I hope the rest of your day treats you well!"
"Thanks, same to you!" Margo smiled once more as her friends left for their appointment. She thought about the way Charon looked at her, and how he had called her beautiful. She thought about his goals for peace, and the wonderful community that had taken them in. She thought about how, just maybe, there could be something between them. She hoped that when the war was over, that her and her friends could not only stay in this peaceful place, but also work to create similar locations around the world too.
"Margo, listen to me!"
Margo recoiled at the sound of the voice in her head. She questioned if she was going crazy, just like Cory seemed to be doing with voice struggles of his own.
"You're not going crazy Margo, I'm the parasite within you. You must act now; your friends are in danger!"
Written By: Roses311Sublime
I see the hate all around me.
This hate, without any just cause.
"Hate the gays," they say,
As they hurl the word "gay" around,
Using it as an insult.
Along with other slurs,
Which I shall not name here.
It's in my face,
All the time, everyplace.
Me, I'm not gay.
I could just walk away.
Yet, I stand here,
Telling these hateful fools,
They question me,
They demand to know,
Am I a gay?
"No," I answer,
"But the people who you bully,
"Who you beat,
"Who's murder your hate fuels,
"As kindling fuels a pyre,
"The people you would have lined up against a wall,
"And shot without trial,
"That could be my brother,
"You would degrade them, strip of of their rights,
"They are innocents!
"And if loving is a crime,
"Then we are all guilty,
"Whether we're gay or not!"
what once was
lift a hand to the sky
and thank life
bringing you joy
oh so broken
realizing it's a lie
you've been here the
it's a whole
way of living,
when you're free
even in the
i can spread
with the toes
of my tennis shoes
i can see
Lets all take a car ride
As we see the rainbows and the pride
What used to be riots of free rights
Have become parades and sparkly tights
There was only one place: Gay bars
No we are able to walk amongst the stars
So much to go over but so little words
Today we're able to be ourselves so get out your swords
LGBTQ community is surfing the world's tides