When you said,

You had a secret,

I wish you had simply told me.

When you said,

It was best we spoke in person,

I knew, it couldn't be good.

I waited for the day,

We would meet face to face,

So I could stop the fear from growing.

That day never came,

You were gone before then,

Never again to be seen by mortal man.

Now, I wonder what it was,

The secret tucked inside your chest,

Hidden away like buried treasure.

It has been committed to the Earth,

It's depth and its meaning.

I am left to wonder.

Strong arms

Slender waist

Deep Voice

Shy demeanor

Casual meeting

Racing heart

Brilliant smile

Emotional high

Sly teasing

Gentle nudge

Playful attitude

Clumsy feet

Common misconception

Mixed signals

Unavailable passion

Unequivocal hurt

Computer glitch

Memory lapse

Silent longing

Eventual collapse

Continual living

On autopilot

Lacking options

Abashed contemplation

"Wake up!"

The back of my head bangs against the steel wall of the converted truck container, as an enormous man in army fatigues yanks the potato sack from my head and shoulders. A second later, a cold bucket of ice water is thrown into my face. Some of the icy water goes into my mouth and I let out a sharp gasp. This elicits sarcastic laughter from the seven people gathered in the dimly lit room.

"Looks like she's alive," a second man, with a ruddy face, says around the cigarette in his mouth. He takes a step closer and blows the smoke from his cigarette in my general direction. His voice takes on a deep tone and he leans to almost stare into my eyes. "That's good. We need a live one."

Fear, as well as cold, causes my body to shiver violently. My clothes cling to my skin where the water has drenched them, and I hunch my shoulders to keep another shiver from taking hold. Finally, I find the courage to speak.

"What is this? Who are you? And what am I doing here?" I say through chattering teeth.

"Who we are does not matter," the enormous man says. My eyes roam to the hunting knife on his right hip.

"As to what you are doing here? You're about to find out," army fatigue man says with a devilish smile.

"Why? Why are you doing this," I yell; while yanking at the tape binding both wrists. "I don't even know you. Any of you! What reason do you have to do this?"

Fatigue man pulls back his right arm and smacks me hard across the face. I bite down hard on my tongue, the taste of blood filling my mouth.

"I was getting to that," army fatigue man says. The evil grin never quite leaves his face.

A tall woman, with stringy hair melts out of the shadows. Her eyes are extremely sunk in and she appears unwell. A meth addict perhaps? Hard to tell in the darkness enveloping the room.

"We're here to play a game," the woman says. Her eyes lock on mine and there is no mirth in them. Whatever this game, I know I will not enjoy it.

"The game is called win, lose, and die," the woman says through widely spaced teeth. "You either win, or you die. It's that simple."

Ruddy face man steps even closer to my chair of bondage. He leans down into my face. So close that I can smell his rancid breath and count every blackhead on his nose.

"The rules are very simple,"ruddy face says. He lets out another puff from his nearly expended cigarette. "As you can see, there are seven of us here...Not counting you. We're all terminal cancer patients. Some lung cancer, Sweet Nelly over there has pancreatic cancer, and I've got the ole melanoma. But don't go feeling too sorry for us. We don't want your pity. We're also all former soldiers. The best of the best until cancer got its hooks into us. That's why I say, we don't need your pity. None of us wants to leave this world groveling and on our knees. We want to leave this world as we are....As what we've always been...Soldiers. Warriors for the cause. And you're gonna help us do that! Or you'll die."

The stringy haired woman, named Sweet Nelly, comes to stand beside ruddy face. A glint of metal catches the candlelight and I realize she is holding a large knife similar to the one on fatigue man's hip. She expertly flips the knife in the air, catches it, and then slams it into the wood of the small table beside me. I glance at the knife before returning my gaze to her face.

"I don't think Ronald here is explaining the rules right. So let me simplify them a little more for you. This game is all about the hunt. You hunt us...We hunt you," Sweet Nelly says. She makes a show of glancing down at the watch on her nearly skeletal wrist.

"It's 10:37. That gives me just under thirty minutes to lay down the ground rules and leave you to work out some things. At 11 p.m., we're gonna head into the woods. And you're gonna do your best to hunt us down...One by one...And end our misery. You can use anything you find around here. Nothing is forbidden. Anything goes. You have until sunrise."

"What?" I cry and once again pull at my restraints. "I'm not hunting down anybody! You people are crazy. Cut me loose. I'm not playing your sick little game. I won't tell the authorities. I swear. But I'm not killing anyone."

The fatigue man backhands me. He places a booted foot on the edge of the chair and snarls into my face.

"I don't think your comprehending what we're saying," he says in a baritone growl. "You don't have a choice. You play the game...Or you die. You lose the game...You die. Those are the rules. You think we'd let you see our faces if we had any intention of letting you return to the real world while we're still alive? Think about it. You can't be that stupid!"

"Thank you, Charles...I've got this," Sweet Nelly says all too sweetly. At that moment, it becomes very clear who is the real mastermind behind this sick game.

"Like I said, you have until sunrise. And for every hour that all of us are still alive...You lose a finger," Sweet Nelly says with a sick smile. "One finger...Or one of us. Your choice."

"No...No...NO," I scream and pull furiously at my restraints. "No. Help! Help! Somebody help!"

It is Sweet Nelly who slaps me this time. My head rockets back and bangs against the metal wall yet again.

"Shut up! Just shut up!" Sweet Nelly yells into my face. "No one's gonna hear you out here. That's just stupid! Shut up!"

"No...You can't do this!" I scream back. I consider spitting in her face, but realize that would be a reckless move. Especially, with a knife jutting out of the table less than three feet from me. "You people are crazy! CRAZY!"

Ruddy face simply shrugs. "So what? Doesn't change anything," ruddy face says and pulls a pack of cigarettes from his front shirt pocket.

"But I'm just getting to the best part," Sweet Nelly states. Her eyes become narrow portals into the blackness of her evil soul, and she wrenches the knife from the wood of the table.

"You lose one of your fingers now. Think of it as an incentive. Your choice. Right pinky or left? Can't have you losing any opposable thumbs. Might make it hard to do a lot of things."

"Nooooo...," I am unable to keep the scream from my lips. "NOOOO!"

"Oh?" Nelly says. "Then, I'll choose."

Before I can bat an eyelash, ruddy face and fatigue man leap forward. A handkerchief is pressed against my nose and consciousness starts to slip away. Somewhere in the back of my mind, as I slip further and further down into unconsciousness, I feel a jolt of pain in my left hand. My left pinky. She is hacking off my left pinky.

11: 06 p.m.

Game time

I awaken sometime later, facedown on the floor. My restraints have been cut off and there is a bandage wrapped around my left hand. My left pinky is definitely gone. I spy it sitting in a mason jar of solution on the table where Sweet Nelly had plunged the hunting knife.

Climbing slowly to my feet, I glance around the room. The candle has almost completely burned down, but there is a stack of unlit candles in the corner. My mind races as I grab two candles and stick the wicks into the flame of the one left burning. Instantly, the light in the room grows brighter. I use the lit candles to assess what is around me.

I search through every cabinet, and in every nook, cranny, and corner of the truck container. My progress is hindered by the persistent pain in my left hand. It is only a five on a scale from 1-5. So, I can only guess that the area was numbed; or maybe I was drugged. Either way, when the nerves finally wake up; it's gonna hurt like a son of a meat biscuit. I need to get moving.

Staring at all of my treasures, I sit down on the floor to begin assembling my weapons. Tripwires, nets, arrows, spears, and the knife covered in my own blood I found in a drawer. Not a bad start. I've got only 41 minutes before the next finger comes off.

If they really want it. Let 'em come and get it!

End Part One

Pinstripes or purple?

What to choose, what to choose?

Sensuous, svelte, silhouette,

I could almost fall in love with myself.

A night on the town,

Gonna really cut loose.

Women will scream when I enter the room,

Cops will have to break up the party.

Dang, this suit looks good on me,

I sure know how to pick 'em.

After tonight's adventures,

I'll be the name on everyone's lips.

Get me a bigger mirror,

I wish to gaze at my wonderfulness.

The color brings out my eyes,

It really makes my skin shine.

Do you remember how we met?

You couldn't resist my animal charm.

We broke all kinds of rules to make it work,

You were putty in my hands.

Oswald's late, again.

Not that I can't go alone.

His lack of fashion is comical,

He should be thrown from the group.

A cane does not make the man,

But a carefully chosen suit can.

Max, now that was style;

That man knew how to dress.

Stop fussing with my collar,

I have it just as I want it.

My shoes need a bit of shining though,

Hurry, snap to it.

Oh, the thrill;

I can't wait to get started.

Sitting still makes my heart beat like a drum,

I can't wait to see the others' faces.

I should order some backup suits,

In case this one gets sullied.

Things might get rowdy tonight,

Sometimes, the boys play rough.

Speaking of the boys,

Here they are now.

"Don't worry," she says,

"You look good, Mr. J."

I never asked for your opinion.

- Me (2/29/2024)

Happy Leap Day!

If I could shape it,

I would make it of clay,

Malleable and moldable in my hands.

If I could rename it,

It would be different for every day,

Not just of the week, but til the end of time.

I wish I could remake it,

I wish I had claimed it,

While I had the chance.

You can never know about love,

Whether it is real or fleeting.

You can always second-guess,

And end up hugging empty air.

Love doesn't grow on trees,

Bet you never heard that one before.

It is sewn with care and devotion,

A tapestry woven through willing hearts.

Love does due diligence,

Love has no closing costs,

Love is not an as-is sale,

Love has no fine print.

Love is ever-evolving,

Love changes with the seasons of the heart.

Love is reborn with the sunrise,

It is born again with the emergence of the moon.

A snuggle by a roaring fire,

A giant bear hug,

An unexpected gift,

A compliment on the escalator.

Love is what you make it,

Love, the most underrated resource on Earth.

2/28/24 (A leap year)

:)

Rapid heart beat,

Eyes blink, blink, then blink.

Downward soul,

Hurt sinking lower, lower.

Stomach taunt,

Bile rising slowly, slowly.

Despair entrenched,

Roots running deep, deeper still.

Tears fall like rain,

Waterfall cheeks rolling, rolling.

Coldness inside,

Emotions pushed down, down.

Thoughts overturned,

Feelings of dark, darkness.

Goodness strolls away,

Courage run, run, running.

It gets better,

That's what everyone says, said, saying.

Time goes by,

Things keep change, changed, changing.

Sadness closes in,

Moments of dread, dreading.

Keep a sound head,

Keep going, going, going.

I don't know why,

I wrote, am writing, have written.

Maybe it's to feel alive,

Feel something, anything, everything.

In life, no one really listens,

But you must try, try, try.

2/28/24 (a leapyear) 3:49am (EST)

Parties and streamers,

Jostling and balloons.

One minute, until midnight;

Another year on the horizon.

It came and it went,

How time flies.

One year gone,

Another just begun.

I would never have known the difference,

If someone hadn't told me.

The beginning of the next,

Was a page right out of the one before.

Nothing changes,

People party hard and then forget.

Bogged down by life and stress,

Happiness can be fleeting.

The world turns as before,

The days come and they go.

The sun does not rest because it is a new year,

It will shine regardless.

Lost friendships and shattered dreams,

Of all the things which could have happened.

Never having felt so much pain before,

Going going going just to feel alive.

Part of your soul is crushed beyond repair,

Over and done with.

Every waking moment is a chore to completed,

Mastering the craft takes force of will.

Lingering in the halls of hindsight,

Observing past moments with a telescopic lens.

Noticing every detail you never saw before,

Grasping at memories you wished would never end.

People pass by with lightning speed,

Or simply fade away.

Each glimpse brings tears closer to the surface,

Marring the landscape of cheek and chin.

Letting go hurts much much worse,

Offerings of sweet rejection coursing through frozen veins.

No time for holding on,

Going on auto-pilot despite the pain.

Pull tight and hold on loosely,

Overdo it and the regret will run deep.

Eating of the grapes of wrath,

Munching on cakes of bitter tears.

Lamentations to last throughout the ages,

Ode to a heart of stone.

Novice to the will of the Fates,

Glorified lackey to festering darkness.

Possible outcomes become reality,

Overlooked options now plainly visible.

Even in the darkest moments,

Many truths can come to the light.

We are the sum of our choices,

We are the coalescence of our beliefs.

When two parts become whole,

Then, we are what we were.

Make peace with the past,

Find your special place in the cosmos.

We only live this life once,

Take no brokenness into the void.

-PhatKhat20

And then there was....

Something...

Anything...

Everything....

I look across the sea to the mountains. Once again lush with greenery, and teeming with life. Standing in the water, up to my waist, I wade across to the shore.

Sharks and dolphins frolic beneath my feet. As the tide brushes over my skin and clothes. No longer is there a need to be rivals. No longer do they fight for the simple right to share a common, crowded, filthy space.

Seals and their pups bark joyously. Penguins practice their bobsledding mimicry with carefree abandon. A tired Orca yawns and chitters its frenzied language. A polar bear only gives it a casual glance, and strolls away with cubs in tow.

In the sky, kites and sparrows play fearlessly. Vultures circle without a thought of death among them. Geese practice their formations simply out of a need for continued ingenuity. Owls and hawks dive and careen in acts of daring and wit.

On the shore, insects of all shapes and sizes scurry over each other. A continuation of their hurried former lives. They were made for that, after all. There are no duels over size and prowess. They couldn't care less that such a thing had ever existed. They dig their homes, and scurry around aimlessly. Even cockroaches, which are no longer in such large numbers,

participate under the light of the sun.

Monkeys chastise the branches, as they leap from tree to tree. Parrots imitate and practice the numerous sounds around them. Mockery being their only concern. Rabbits, dogs, and cats no longer need have such large litters. It is often that they have only one, maybe two. It is not uncommon to see a playful bunny thumping the tail of a lazy kitten. Or a puppy playfully nibbling a bunny's long ears.

In the cities and towns; the sounds of progress are a little quieter than before. Cars, trucks, planes, and trains do not race indefinitely around and over the landscape. Buildings do not sit empty and dilapidated for years and decades. Their rot on display for everyone to see. Skyscrapers do not cut the horizon at weird angles; blocking out the beauty of a sunset or the stars. There is no rush-hour traffic and endless honking and blaring of horns.

Jackhammers do not cut the silence of the day at odd hours. Music is not loud, angry, and pain-driven anymore. People genuinely greet, smile, nod at, kiss, or shake each others hands; when they pass on the street. Eyes gleam with hope and promise for the future ahead. All are equal. All are accepted and accepting.

Death, and the overwhelming desire to consume, have left the building.

4/27/2022b

(c) Katryese Austin

I do not believe in a Satan character, per se.

I believe he is a symbolic image of a person(s) who history has chosen to glorify and amplify.

A flawed individual such as those we see running for Prime Minister, President, or King/Queen.

As humans, we are capable of great things: empathy, compassion, enterprise, conservation, etc. But so often, we act contrary to our nature. We know what the right thing to do is, but we just don't do it.

The Satan character reflects this idea. Why do you think anti-heroes now permeate most action movies these days? Heroes. True heroes. People who are willing to live and die by a code of pure morality and ethics--are few and far between. Anti-hero, a person who can fall in either direction--depending on which direction the wind is blowing--is more likely to resonate with most people. For example, HellBoy. A demon who functions as an anti-hero because the world at large will never see him as a true hero because of his background.

This is who we are (humans). This is who we have always been. We don't need Satan or demons. There are over 7.8 billion humans on this Earth. I would say that is enough capacity for evil (and also good--angels) without inventing more.

Katryese Austin (3/27/2022)