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Wednesday, April 23, 2014


Balance: a fine dance between safety and the eternal depths of the chasm.

Why perform such an act?

Well, perhaps it is due to the difference between a life of relative calm, and that of pleasure.

For a Walk-In, there was no choice.

Walk     -       In


Smooth Sailing    by Queens Of The Stone Age 

Sven eyed his “brother” sitting there across from him at the tri-legged table in the secret chamber.

The Chairman paced back and forth, slowly, lost in thought, looking back at Sven and Christopher every now and then.

Sven snuck a look at the one in pain, and he savored it.  The other man was on the point of breaking.  Such exquisite agony, and not hidden all that well.

But what would it serve Sven to allow his “brother” to completely lose his hold and then bring the eyes of them Purple Robes upon their secrets?

Sven said, “Ahem.”

Chairman Hegan and Christopher both looked over to him.

Sven said, “I think we should eat now.”

Christopher felt and heard his own belly rumble. 


He was infected with the animal desire of the Cannibal, from the one who had infected him with this disease.

He nodded, and at the same time, his ire arose.  Fuck the Cannibal to his own hell.

He said, “Who can eat at a time like this?!”

He spoke a lie, of course, and not the first, but would it be his last?  He wanted his time alone with Sven.  He wanted to show Sven a really good feasting.

Hegan said, “Agreed.  We should not eat now.  I would like to ask the both of you a couple of questions.  Prince Richard, if you will permit?”  He looked directly into Sven’s eyes.

Sven did not falter.  He’d been waiting for a good game.   He looked up and nodded, and smiled.  The bandages on his face dangled from his constant smiling, each from an end, revealing his injuries.

One eyebrow: missing. 

The skin from his cheek: bitten away. 

Blood seeped anew from the loss of the salve.

Sherry  “the Maid” had done this to him. 

Sven smiled again.  Such a face, when it smiles, will not allow the viewer to smile back all that well.

Hegan said, “Are you still high from smoking crack?”

Sven/young Prince Richard sat back and coughed.  He thought about his options.  Yes, the pain from his wounds was quite lovely to feel, but he needed to explain without giving anything away.

He said, “Yes.”

Hegan felt relieved.  To him, it explained all of the grinning, in spite of the pain.

Hegan nodded back and then turned to the older brother.  He said, “Prince Wahunt?”

Christopher the Chauffeur continued to look down at the table, lost in his own pain, and forgetting his new name. 

He had lost everythi---


Sven swung his hand at the face of his “brother” and the smack echoed in the chamber.

Even the bodyguard snapped his head back.  “Whoah.”

Christopher stood up.  He said, “Fuck You!” 

He held his hands straight out from both sides; fingers snarled into claws.

Hegan shouted, “Secure him!”

Christopher hopped back as Sven slipped sideways.  Christopher dove forth and the bodyguard caught him and wrapped his thick arms around his body.

Hegan said, “You and your wife are in this together!”

Sven smirked for a second and then hid his pleasure.  He played them cards right.

He knew it, and so did his “brother.”

Both would have to bide their time,

…each to kill the other.

But do you know, they faced the Chairman Hegan.  

If they would meet to kill each other, they would have to kill the others first.

One:            Guided by Hunger.

The Other:  Guided by Torment.

It was a zero sum equation.


God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out.


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