The Fuckno Wars Ch 5 Deer Me

The Devil Takes Care Of His Own by Band Of Skulls

I followed them.  They led me along the corridor, and the hairs on the back of

my neck, my back, my ---

Well, let’s just say that I was not in for a good time.

Huh.

Their kind was now termed, “Okies,” because they had been poor farmers escaping the dust bowls of the heartland, and they were the first ones hailing from Oklahoma, to enter the Golden State of Califucknia during the Depression.

Well, the First Depression, that is.

Thus, they carried the most important things they had used during their hard lives.  These were spade-shovels, hoes, axes, hatchets, and other things that were portable.  They did not carry a team of horses or a tractor, nor any of the accoutrement that hooks up to a great amount of horse-power.  Accoutrement is a fancy French term that means, “shit that makes your life easier.”

They did not have an easy life, but they were not afraid of a little elbow grease.  That is what made them survivors, and that was the reason they were there with me in the corridor.

Those Okies wanted to take me to a room to meet a ghost.

And I wanted to bail.

Don’t look at me that way.  I was a frightened young American Indian transplant from an island in the middle of a huge river back east, who found himself alone in the desert, with a lot of angry dead folks shouting at me.  I just couldn’t hear them.

But they were crying dust now, and it made me sneeze.

Shit was all fucked up.

As I crept along the corridor, surrounded by them, I saw shadows scatter across the ceiling of this second-floor hallway from the light of the portable lamps erected upon the circular driveway to this mansion.  It gave me the willies.  Some bad folks had arrived, and they were coming in.

The old man ahead who disappeared from view each time he walked through one of the blades of light from each open door to the rooms on the front side, well, he stopped.

He pointed at a doorway on the other side of the hallway.

I felt the air grow colder.

I felt my skin begin to crawl.

I was not ready.

I slowed.  Then I heard the screech of boards as they were ripped away from the front entrance one floor below.  Now, you would think that such a thing would make you hurry, but I discovered something new.

I discovered why deer will act all paralyzed when they are facing your headlamps on your automobile.

This is why:

You encounter solid, impenetrable fear.  In this case, I did not want to meet some sort of great demon to which these blue ghosts were dragging me with their cold essence.

And I needed to get out, before the folks coming into the building would find me. Who know what they wanted to do to me?

And on the other hand, I had no where to go.  We three bastards had come here to find an answer, and it seemed to be beckoning to me from the door just ahead.  Tellesco was in the cellar now, and he could probably hear footsteps over his head.  He had his own fears to deal with, and you know that he was a bit of a scaredy cat.  But he had gone and done it.

It was this combination that made me freeze in my tracks:  It was the instinctual fear I had of what lay ahead, and it was the mental fear knowing that if I didn’t go ahead, all would be lost.  

Ya know?

Here are some things to remember when you see a deer in the headlights:

Do not honk your horn.  That will make a deer go left and right and left and right.  Deer do not understand what horns mean.  It makes them stop to think about their lives and the problems they have caused.

Do not flash your headlamps hi and lo and hi and lo.  That simply alerts them that they should stand still.

Never drive into the woods or rocks.  You have a much better chance of surviving an impact with a soft deer than rocks and tree trunks.

Instead, aim to drive around the ass end.  If it’s a male, there might be antlers, and the other end is moving away from your trajectory unless you spook it.  If you hit it's ass end, you have a better chance of surviving than if the front end of the deer comes in through the windshield.  The front end has more bones and mass.

Never, ever swerve and brake at the same time, baby.

So I swerved and braked. 



I swung around.  Fuck ghosts.  I hate them.  I ran away like a scared little bitch, and I could not get away fast enough.

At that same moment, I heard a holler from below.

And then there was some shouting.  As I ran past the little hole I could not see, from which I had crawled through, I fell in my panicked state onto the floor.

I was like a fucking spooked deer in the headlights, but I was in the dark.

I had the creepy crawlies all over me, and I scrambled around on my hands and knees, feeling along the soggy wallpaper for my exit.  I saw light shining in from the front windows, and I headed to the nearest one.  I was going to go out, fuck this shit, head for the light. 

Like a deer.

Well, do you know, all sorts of glowing farming tools came blasting at me and then there were angry dead people’s faces in my face, and they were shouting.  Boy were they pissed off at me.

I fell onto my back and then they did something odd.

They all gathered around me and made a grab for my arms.  They faded almost from view, and they fucking dragged me down the corridor.  Their ice cold hands made my damp jacket crackle with ice.

Never piss off a ghost, huh?  Never piss of a herd of them.  I had no idea that ghosts could get pissed off enough to cause things to happen.  Neither did Tellesco.  He had told me that they couldn’t hurt me.  But perhaps they could do such things.

They let me go in front of a doorway and I rolled over to run away again.

I saw a white glow from inside the doorway, from the corner of my eye.  Never look in a darkened room when you see a glow.  Never leave the bedroom door open to a darkened hallway when you are going to sleep, in case a pale face peeks in upon you.  Close up your closet door each night as well.  These are portals.

I looked in, and I saw Lorelei.

I felt my legs buckle.

She was right there, standing inside the pitch black room.

I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or shit myself.

Another Perfect Catastrophe by Dana Leong

See you on the weekend for the Escape, and how we would do it, my friend.  Tellesco was in the cellar, and you never leave a man behind. 

God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out.

Another Perfect Catastrophe by Dana Leong

The Fuckno Wars Ch 4 Feeling Blue

Haunted Heart by Little Hurricane

The blue faces crowded around Tellesco and looked at me.  He said, “We can’t leave them here.  We have to take them with us.”

I shook my head.  I said, “The car won’t fit them all.”

Boy, did that piss them off.  They charged at me, throwing pitch forks, hoes, other gardening, I mean, farming equipment at me, and also axes and hatches.

I ducked, even though those things flew through me. 

They couldn’t hurt me.

Tellesco shouted, he did.  He said, “Stop!  We won’t be leaving anyone behind!  Chill the fuck out!”

I was amazed.  Dude had grown some balls, I guess.  I said, “Let’s get the hell out of here then.  What you waiting for?”

Tellesco pointed at the little girl with the wilted flowers in her hands and missing eyes.  At least she hadn’t thrown those at me.  He said, “She wants me to follow her to the basement.  And there is something else we have to see up on the top floors.  We don’t have much time.”

I shrugged.  “So you are saying that I have to go up?”

Tellesco nodded.  He said, “I will go down.  We have to hurry, and meet back here.  Them purple robes are outside now.”

Wha?   Fuck.  Mind you, I still could not shake off the shivers, the heebie jeebies.  Ghosts are old recordings from the past.  They are not real.  But then again, they were mad at me there in that old library, and they would not let me rest in peace until I followed them instead of escaping and running away.

Sometimes, you have to up and go down.  Sometimes, you have to enter to exit. 

Ya know?

Evidently, in order for the ghosts to escape and follow us, we needed to collect come things, from the top floors and from the cellar.  Go figure.  Ghosts are whiny bitches.  I also didn’t know that a certain ghost waited upstairs for me.  She was one of two ladies that I had a connection to in this fucked up tale, and both of them were dead.

They were both ghosts.

I just didn’t know it yet.

Good times. 

Fuck.

See you next time.

Just kidding.  You know me.

I got up from the floor in front of the window (I’d ducked from the various farming tools chucked at me from them blue folks) and took a deep breath.  It smelled like a root cellar.  It smelled like dirt from a cemetery.  I shrugged the shivers off me, from under my damp leather jacket, and adjusted my tie.  I stuck my jaw out and forced a smile.  I bent and grabbed the torch light from the floor and handed it to Tellesco.  I said, “There prolly ain’t no lights down in the cellar.  Here.”

His eyes began to weep again, and I just smiled.  Inside, I was dying.  I did not want to be in that place any longer.  But where else were there any answers for me? 

Kinda fucked, you know.

Tellesco accepted the flashlight and said, “You need to get to the floor right above us .  She’s waiting there for you.”

Well fuck him.  He just set my skin creepy crawling again.  I shivered and said, “Who?”

He nodded.  “It’s that pretty girl with the white hair.  She been leading us here. She’s so pretty.  But she wants to talk to you, not me.”  He began to weep again.  What a crying little huge bitch-man.  

I said, “A name?  Can I get a name?”

He just shook his head and held out his free hand.  The little ghost girl put her hand into his and then they went out the door.  He went on his way all blubbering like a water fountain, shoulders heaving and nose dripping.

Fuck.

I did not want to look at any of them blue faces crowing about me.  I felt their presence.  It was like the cold breath from a freshly dug grave.  But I did.

They all held their farming tools, their digging tools in their hands again.  Well, that was not exactly reassuring.  I didn’t want them to try to hit me with those implements again.  But they did something odd.  They turned around and walked out the door.

I was left alone in the library.  I thought about turning tail again, and running off with the little Lion Man and escaping.  But didn’t.  Fuck me.

I followed them, and they led the way.

We went down the long corridor, heading to the eastern wing of the huge mansion, and lights gleamed from the front, where the huge foyer awaited.  Before we got to it, the blue ghosts stopped in front of a wall and beckoned me.  I came up to them and they parted.  The old dude in the overalls pointed his pitch fork at the wall.  I looked at it, and then I understood.  It was another one of them hidden panels, or some shit.

I pressed against where he indicated, and the wall clicked.  It popped back out into the corridor, and then those ghosts glided through the wall and disappeared. I pulled the door open and it was pitch black inside.  The  a blue face peeked down at me from beyond a turn in the stairs, from up above.  I nearly shit myself.  I would never get used to seeing ghosts, I guess.

So there were stairs leading upwards, like in the other end of the mansion, when the tower came down, if you recall.  In that other one, it seemed like me and the little Lion Man were stuck in there for three weeks, my friend.

The ghost came back down around the corner of them stairs, and do you know, I could see the steps from the weak, blue light of his glow.   He said something over his shoulder, and then there were ghosts all around me.

Now I could see the walls, the slanted ceiling leading up, and the steps before me.  I ignored their smell of death and their cold presence.  No way to go but up, baby.  Fuck it, I thought.  Might as well go along for the ride.

Of course, that had always been my downfall.  Why stop now?   Get up and go down.

Leaving The Nest by Benjy Ferree

I climbed the stairs and reached an old door.  Its knob was set like a nail.  It wouldn’t twist. I pushed on it, and it clicked open.  The ghosts faded through the door and left me in the dark.  I resisted the urge to open the door and charge on through, because I had learned my lesson.  I gripped the door knob and did not let go.  I stepped back, in the pitch black, and pulled it open.  I pressed my other hand forward and felt.

Yup.

There was a wall in front of me.  Fucking ghosts wanted to make me smack my face and fall backwards, for a good laugh.  Bastards.

Then a blue face appeared right in front of me and jumped the hell out of me.  I fell back, heading toward the stairs below in the darkness, but I still held onto the doorknob.  I caught myself from falling, but the twist of my shoulder as I held on, now facing downward into the abyss, well, it wrenched my shoulder.

I almost got a dislocated shoulder, but it fucking hurt.

I steadied myself on the stairs and let go of the knob.  More ghosts came into the empty stairwell, and I was pissed off.  Bastards.  I screamed, “Fuck You!  You left me!  You got me hurt!”

Well, I don’t know about you, but when you see a bunch of dead people get all sad and apologetic, it is not much help.  It will creep you out.

You see, there were tears, but it came out of their eyes like powdery dust.

It made me sneeze.

I could taste it.

It tasted like a rotten turnip.

I was tasting ghost.

Blecch.

I saw the doorknob now quite well in the glow of their blue luminescence, and I grabbed it with the other hand, and faced the other way.  I had my back to the doorway, and I used my Docs to kick away the old wooden slats that held gypsum, and busted that wall apart.  The years of wallpaper covering the other side of the covered-over wall were still soggy from the baptism of the once-lovingly-adorned mansion, and I pushed my boot through.

I squeezed through the soggy opening like a new born, and rolled onto the hallway floor.  Them ghosts crowded around me and tried to help me up, but they couldn’t.  They were images, not artifacts.  Artifacts were what I needed to collect, in order to help them leave that fucked up place.

I looked down the hallway and saw the light from the portable streetlamps out front, shining in from the blown out windows of the rooms on one side.  They made curious shadows on the ceiling.

I grimaced.  My shoulder hurt like a mutha fucka.  Now they wanted me to do what?

Bastards.

I hate ghosts.

God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out.

The Fuckno Wars (Beta)

There are a few considerations to make.  You choose.  Yeah, do my job for me.  Thanks, honey.

You see, it is my intention to write well, and by having a deadline, well, this thing forces me to take time out of my work (paying job as an air quality scientist for my tribe) to attempt to do my best.

You are in for the ride.


The internet should remain free (other than the fee to me from my service provider for getting online), but I will gladly "pay" attention to your ads, if they are unobtrusive (no pop-ups, pop-unders, nor trojans) only if you have some genuine and well-crafted product I wish to see.


You see, I have fifteen or even thirty seconds of spare time to spend in viewing your advertisement in order to experience what you have contributed to our excellent internet, created by the Mighty USA for the world to use.

As long as you have something good to view.

Otherwise, g'bye, baby.  Long may you prosper in someone else's cache dump.


It is proper for we, the USA consumerists, to afford a few moments for the viewing of a finely crafted, enjoyable advertisement for you wares, of which I may decide to purchase.


That is proper, in this new world of global capitalism.



Anything to keep the "internets" free to surf, baby.



 Let's delve into my own stuff, free for you.   But do not steal my stuff, or I will come looking for you.  That wouldn't be a good thing.


That being said, here we go:

TUNES

Pick Two, or offer two of your own.

Powerman, by The kinks.

I Can get To Heaven, by Jes, mixed by Myon. 

Hate To Say I Told You So, by The Hives

Colorblind, by Counting Crows

VERSION ONE

Hello there.

Now, many of you have been asking about some back story for this tale.  I understand.  It’s a long tale, and it originates from my past.

I  order to appease you, before we begin the description of the destruction of the Megalopolis of Fuckno, and then, after that happens, its reconstruction, perhaps we should take a moment to explore the cast of characters that figure in this tale.

You ask, and I deliver.

Who were the ghosts?

Who were my friends?

Who became the Punkologists?

Who were the Walk-Ins?  

Who were the Purple Robes?

Who am I?

Will this ever end?

My answer is this:   You have been reading a story in construction, and while it has been all mapped out, nonetheless, it takes a lot for an old punk to pull it out of his old, addled head.

You are in for the ride.

I write for one reason.

I simply can’t help myself.   But you know by now that I am fiercely protective of my tribe.

So, let’s explore the cast of characters, one at a time, shall we?  This will be fun.

Should we start with the ghosts?

Let me know.


t d c willies (at) g m a i l or something closer than that, botbaby.

God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out.

If ghosts, then it would start like the following.  But it's up to you.

VERSION TWO

Katheena was a ghost now.

So was Lorelei.

I had not seen either, but I saw a bunch of them in the empty library.




...

The Fuckno Wars Ch 3 Ghost Love

Sex With Ghosts, or Sentimientos, by Ernesto Romeo

There were ghosts here, and there were purple robes on their way.

There were Walkins arriving into the city, and there were poor souls leaving.

It was a time of flux, of entropy.

Perfect entropy will exist one day with the dissipation of energy until it is equal across the universe, and all matter has dissolved from purity into a mixture.  All action and being will cease to be, for each individual singularity.  All will be one, in a mass of singularity, stretching off into eternity.

That is quantum mechanics for you.  Have a nice day.

This is to where we were heading.

The flashlight hurt my eyes, and I kicked it away.

Now was all darkness, and Joey couldn’t see. 

But of we three, two could see.

One with tears, and the other with a head wound. 

Salt water and blood. 

Clear and salty; salty and metallic.

White and Red.

The silent voices screamed in our faces in the dark.  They were wisps of human emotion, looming blue in the shadows.  They pointed to our left, as we drew back from their anger in the empty library.  They pointed to the east, you see.

Red, white, and blue will never fade.

They were pointing to a lost deposit of books, stuffed among empty beer cans in a secret compartment behind the rear seat of a once-lovely golden car with gold tinted windows that was now buried in the desert. 

We had no clue.

They were pointing at Orion, drowned and buried in the desert.

Katheena’s car had dug out the tar from the road as it screamed forth, and she had sacrificed her automobile for some reason.  Her car held those books that made the Purple Robes come speeding back to this mansion, baptized in the desert. 

Katheena had sacrificed her life.

The lost souls wanted payback for their own loss, and they were shouting.

We simply couldn’t hear them.

+++   +++   +++   +++   +++   +++  

Joey swung his light around.  He said, “Ain’t no one here.  Why you bitches whimpering!”  He was pissed off.

Tellesco, I mean No One, well, he grabbed that torch from Joey’s hand and pushed that little Messican boy to the floor.  He said, “ENOUGH!”

He shined the light onto the old man who stood there with a pick-axe in his hand and said, “You telling me you don’t see this sad bastard?!”

Joey scrambled up and got in Tellesco’s face.  He said, “You ain’t making a lot of sense here, big boy.  Next time you knock me down, I’ll shove that fucking flashlight into your ass without lube!”

Tellesco shined the light onto another ghost, and she was lower to the floor.  She held wilted flowers in her hand.  He said, “You don’t see this girl here with the missing eyes?”

Lion Man, I mean, Joey, he said, “Fuck you two.  Time to bail.  Weeee-ill said leave no man behind, but you fuckers are out of reach.”  He went to the plywood board and pushed it out, and then he slipped through.

The ghosts crowded us.  I rubbed my eyes, but they would not disappear.  Fuck it.  I turned tail and went for the plywood escape. The board was heavy, but my fright was deeper.  I slid down outside, and got held up on the nail heads at the sill.  My leather was caught.  Always mind your leather, baby.

Tellesco howled from inside.  He fucking howled.  He said, “We Can’t Leave Them Here!” 

I found Joey in the starlight, and the side of his face glowed red in the rose slit of moonlight.  He was half red.  I said, “Joseph, we will not leave him behind.  That’s not part of the deal.”

Joey looked over to the horse corral beyond, and then he looked at me.  He said, “What deal?  I didn’t make any deal!”

I said, “Shhh! Don’t be so loud.  Now listen.  There are three of us.  We are all we have!  Our deal is a pact.  It was a pact we made when the tower came down.  We are together in this, and we will not leave one of us behind!”

Joey wanted to run.  I could see it in his eyes.  He wanted to bail, and I couldn’t blame him.  I wanted to bail as well.  It would be easy to escape.  It was the easy way out.  But do you know, the right thing to do is not usually the easiest thing to do.

The right thing is the hardest thing to do.

Joey looked up into my face and he said, “I fucking hate you right now.  I can’t do this.”

Well that hurt.  But do you know, that is the rock bottom.  Shit happens.  You find your rock bottom, and then you try to dig your way out of a hole.  I watched him run off, and I didn’t say a fucking thing.  Someday, he would rue this moment, and I hoped it would be soon.

I hoped that he would live to see another day.  I knew that we did not have much time left here on this mortal plane.  Call it instinct.

Suga Momma by John Lee Hooker

I turned around, and my stomach gurgled.  I had the willies.  I did not want to crawl back inside, and see the blue faces.  I did not want to be in that hellhole.  I did not want to go forth, go west.  I wanted to head east, to the island of my nativity.

Well, fuck it, I thought.  Gonna die anyway, someday.  Might as well be for something good.  For once.

I pulled the board back and saw Tellesco in the middle of the room, and he had dropped the flashlight on the floor.  He didn’t need it to see the blue wisps all about him.  They were all laying their hands upon him.

I don’t know about you, but that is something I wouldn’t enjoy.  I didn’t want to be touched by anyone, never mind some dead folks. 

Rrrrgh.  That is the sound I made in my throat.  It is the sound you make when you have to enter a crawl space under a home that is infested with cockroaches, and they will crawl all over you, looking for a hiding place, and if you haven’t taped up the sleeves to your coverall suit well enough, they will crawl inside and along your arms down to your private areas.

It tickles.

Rrrrgh.   I crawled inside the library, under the plywood cover.  Rrrrgh.  Fuck.  Rrrrgh.

Tellesco turned around and saw me, and he began to cry.  Sad bastard.  He said, “I knew you wouldn’t bail on me Mr. Will!”

The hollow faces turned from him and they looked at me.  Just what I needed.  My skin crawled.  I saw a withered woman with no hands reach toward me.  A man wearing faded overalls who carried a pitchfork knelt down and tried to help me up, but he was a dusty photograph, cut out and taped up over the surface of reality.  I clamped my eyes shut so I wouldn’t see them anymore.

It did not help.   I felt the touch of a ghost on my arm.  I swung it off, and hollered, “Don’t fucking touch me!”

Tellesco stepped back.  It was he who had touched me.  He said, “Mr. Will, they can’t touch you!  They can’t even say anything to us!  They can’t hurt you.”

I didn’t need him to say that, because if I did, I would have been a weak man.  But it helped.

I opened my eyes and shook the shivers off.  I said, “Rrrrrgh.  Tell them to get away from me.”

I looked around the room.  Them ghosts stood back.  Well that was something.  At least they could hear me.  But anyways, Rrrrgh.  I couldn’t get rid of the creepy crawlies.  Blecch.

I said, “Tellesco, what the fuck is going on here?!”

He smiled.

Great.  No One had a clue.

Freedom at 21 by Jack White

He said, “Mr. Will, they trying to tell us something.  This little girl here keeps trying to get me go out of this room.  I dunno.  I think I should follow her.”

I sat on the sill of the busted out window, back to the plywood that hanged over it.  I said, “What about that ghost chick you been following?  Where is she?  She been talking to you, right?”

Tellesco nodded.  “She says that these folks knew we were coming.  She says that they don’t think you know your power. She’s waiting upstairs for us.”

I had no fucking clue.  I said, “We supposed to follow that little girl there?”

Tellesco said, “Nope.  This one wants me to go somewhere else. Downstairs, to the cellar.”

I said, “What about them Purple Robes?”

Tellesco said, “Oh, them?  They just got here.  They outside now.”

Hah?

Fuck.

Fuck.

God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out.

.

Fuckno Wars Chapter 2 Hello Can You

This is the first part of Chapter 2.

I apologize for the missing week, but I had some bodies to bury, and others to raise up.

Now Listen:

Blood Is Thicker Than Water, by Black Label Society

In a darkened room, do Walkins make noise?

No.

I wiped my eyes again.  Nothing would erase from my eyes the pale blue faces staring at me in the pitch black room.  Joey (I mean, Lion Man) shined his flashlight on the floor as he walked out from the empty stacks of books.

He was bookless.

The back of my head throbbed, and Tellesco (I mean, No One) took the bloody t-shirt away from the mess on the back of my head.

Guess I was done bleeding.  Gobless him.

Joey shined his flashlight all around on the walls and ceiling and said, “You two are fucking crazy.  Ain’t no one here.”

Tellesco said, “Except for me and you, and Mr. Will here.  OK.  I get it.  Now help me with Mr. Will.”

Joey said, “I’ll help you two get the fuck out of here.  This was a bad idea.  We done.  Weeeeee-ill needs help.  I won’t risk him.”

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

Big Bryan was not alone as he made his way to the hell-hole of a burned ranch.  

She smelled like the Joshua Tree flower, when it blooms in the spring rains.


She whispered in his ear.



"Sssssshhhhhh.  It will all make senssssssse."

It gave him the shivers.

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

Down on the south side of Fuckno, a Walk-In finished eating his late night meal.   It was not a meal that you might enjoy.  He felt full from an evening of various choices.

That particular epicurean gastronomosity involved the ears of one who was now earless, and also dead.

The scent of his breath as he burped was not something that anyone should ever experience.

He waited, and he was rewarded:  Seen heard some new things.

He heard some whispers.


"I'll pay you tomorrow, honest!"



"What the fuck happened to my rock?  What the fuck!  Did you smoke it?!"




"I'll do it, I'll do it.  Hand me the knife.  Just smoke me up now."

You hear, those voices echoed down the alleys of avenues and side streets.

Groan from a bruising,



plead for help,




beg for another front,




promise your life away...






Perhaps someone will hear you.

Seen smiled and wiped his mouth on the back of his gloved hand, and he arose.

How many bodies now, five?






There were five who watched him as he did things to their bodies that they could no longer feel.




They needed to get back in their body,



a body,



anybody.

This was how the Walk-In built an army of Walk-Ins.

God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out.

.

To Be Rewritten- Fuckno Wars C1 P3 Ghosts

Get Your Body, by Baby

I ran on my knees past No One toward the window.  Fuck ghosts.  I was done.  I pressed the plywood away and clawed my way out of the hole like a newborn spawn from the gaping maw of hell.  I fell out of the window onto the patio bricks and heard that sharp, loud smack against the back of my head that hurts so bad you can smell it and taste it.  I felt the world tilt away from me, and I slid of its plane into a starless eternity.

I saw a tunnel of white light that grew brighter, and heard the sounds of voices in my head, but the words were all jumbled.  And then the light hurt my eyes and I reached up and pushed it away.  Fuck that flashlight.

I rolled over and rubbed my eyes.  My head ached big time.  What the hell was going on?

Someone said, “Holy shit, he’s bleeding from the back of his head!”

No One said, “I should have left him outside!  But you made me push him up over the window hole and set him down in here!”

The response was this:  “We can’t be caught now, with him injured!  At least he ain’t got no broken back…  Fuck.  I should have thought about that before I-  Wait!  He’s saying something!  What is it, Weeeee-ill?”

I turned my head and said, “You fuckers are assholes.”

Lion Man and No One laughed in relief.

Lion Man pressed his T-shirt against the back of my head to slow the bleeding, and No One felt so bad for my injury that he began to cry.  He said, “Mr. Will, I didn’t mean you no harm.  But you took off after I fell on you.  I shoulda grabbed you before you went out the window.  I’m sorry man.”

I sat up and my head spinned a bit.  I said, “I’ll be OK.  But who are all of these folks in here?”

Lion Man whipped around and flashed the light everywhere.  He saw nothing.

No One said, “They don’t say anything, but their mouths are moving, like they got something important to say.  Some look like they are hollering at us. You see that?”

Lion Man looked at me and twirled his finger in a circle near his temple, and he whistled.

I said, “Yeah.  That one over there is pointing at those shelves.”

Lion Man swung the light back around.  He said, “You both are off your fucking rockers.  Ain’t no one here.  Damn.  Guess I’m the only sane person here. What will a boy do?”

No One got up and jostled through the crowd in the room over to where the pale figure was pointing.  He shrugged.  He said, “Ain’t nothing here.”

All of the faces turned to look at him when he said this, and then they looked at each other.  It seemed like they could see things that we could not.  They could see books on shelves that weren’t there anymore.  The books had been salvaged and taken away.  Some had been stolen before that happened.

You see, the thing about ghosts are that they are faint wisps of human essence.  They are the images played from strong emotion etched and recorded into the nearby organic materials from when the intense experience first occurred.  A ghost is not a person, but it is instead a remnant.  Strong emotions that are evoked from a powerful emotional event in our lives, such as a wedding, a sexual act, a violent death, or a period of mental anguish or physical torture have the capacity to invade the molecular structure of wood, of cloth, and even into the detritus of the living creatures which cover every surface of our planet, even on your own skin this moment.

We are all connected, you know.  Emotions are recorded into anything that has carbon molecules in it.

Perhaps it takes the act of opening your eyes to see those recordings.

I rubbed my eyes, but it did not erase these ghosts that filled the room.

My fear was gone, probably because I was stunned from my head wound, and I was most likely in a state of shock.

(To Be Re-Written)

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The Fuckno Wars C1 P2 Books

You will find yourself at the bottom of a hole someday. 

We all will.

If you had the opportunity to escape, would you take it?

No Glory In This Story, by Lhasa de Sela.  Thank you Lisa for this find.

The Fuckno Wars

Chapter One

Part Two

Books

We stood at the fence of the horse corral and we were at the lowest point of our lives.

I shivered in my leather jacket.  It was still wet from having dived into an algae ridden pool, trying to drown another jacket, the one that No One wore.  The only other thing he wore was a knitted kilt.

No One said, “They are afraid of you. She says that they do not know your power.  She says they think that you don’t either.”

Hah?

Power?   I had no idea what the hell he was saying.  I thought that he didn’t either.  He’d said that he was talking to a ghost girl, you know.

“She says that because you destroyed this place and took some books they been looking for, that you are a threat.”

Books?

What the fuck?

The books, you recall, were in the back of Katheena’s golden car, Phoenix, buried in the desert silt up to its neck.  But we had no clue about those books at all.

The Lion Man shook his head and whistled a long, descending note.  He said, “Wow.  That electric fence really fucked you up, dude.  You better sit down and take a breather.”

No One shook his own head.  He said, “We ain’t got time for a breather.  They on their way here now.”

I looked at the Lion Man.  “They’re not here now?  Well fuck it.  Let’s go!”

He nodded, and we climbed over the corral fence and crept towards the destroyed mansion.  We would have no other chance to do such a thing.  We didn’t know what we would find.  Maybe we would find nothing.  That would be awful.  All this for nothing and then hell to pay come daylight. 

If we weren’t careful and quiet, and quick about it, hell would come much sooner.

We snuck up to a small shed near the closest side of the mansion.  I peeked around the corner of it, and I could hear the hum of a diesel generator out front.  A jenny.  One for electrical power.

I looked over to the car that was parked sideways across the driveway entrance.  It was lit from the bright lights that shined from a couple of portable streetlamps set up closer to the front entrance.  I saw a glow from a red cherry inside that vehicle that brightened and shined on a man’s face as he sucked on his cigarette.  Then it died down, and in a bit, an exhale of smoke puffed out the driver’s side window.  That single pause indicated that he was relaxed.  He was not smoking fast. 

This meant that he was unaware; he had not been told anything by the owners of this place.  It also meant that No One was full of shit.  He must have been delusional.  The Purple Robes knew that we were here?  They were on their way?  Yeah, right. Good one, No One.

I turned back to the other two and smiled.  “Time is on our side, fellas.  We safe.  Now let’s get to the rear and see if there are any open windows.  And for the love of gawd, be fucking quiet.”

They followed my lead.  We had a good nine or so hours until daylight.  We would be gone long before then.  Our eyes adjusted to the dim light from the stars overhead, and we began to make sense of the destruction of the place.  All of the windows were blown out, except in the corners, all the way up to the top floor.  Each of the windows on the ground floor were boarded up with plywood sheets.  Lights glinted from windows here and there on the floors above.  They must have set up some sort of temporary lighting system inside.  It would have been dangerous to try to get the electricity started for this whole place with all of the water damage and busted walls.  On the ground in the back, we stepped over broken furniture that had been flushed from the windows when the water tower tipped over and crashed through the roof into the top floor and released its contents inside.

Baptism.

Certainly, anything that was of value had been salvaged from the grounds, as well as the interior of the place.  We were not looking to steal for monetary gain.  We were looking for information, for data, for a single fucking clue.  I wondered if there might be a room with satanic materials in it.  No, not pentagrams on the floor from a melted black candle, or dead cats and chickens laying about in the corners, or goat heads hanging from the rafters with twine.  There would be no giant black cauldron with bat wings and lizard tongues stewing in it.  That shit belonged in a kid’s ghost story, or a B Movie.  

Yet,

There must be something.

Anything at all would do.

We slipped past the pool area, and found that the whole back yard was paved with patio stones as we went along.  I avoided the long swimming pool.  I did not have much luck with them, you know.

We came to an area with metal patio furniture strewn about, and I stopped.  This would do.

I looked around on the rear patio for an iron leg of a patio chair or the brass neck of a flushed-out lamp to pry one of the plywood sheets from a window, and as I did,  I heard the sound of wood splintering and popping.  I turned around and saw that No One had a good hold on a corner of one of those sheets and he was using his raw strength to pull it away. The ply wood was not all that thick, but they must have been secured with ten-penny framing nails and those were deep in the window jacks on each side.   The sheet gave way before the nails would come out.  It came away easier and easier until there was only the single line of nails across the top.  It just hung there.  He tried to wiggle the sheet to get the last part away from the wall.

I had an idea.  I ran over and yanked on his arm to stop him.  I said, “Hey, wait!”

He stopped, and he wasn’t even breathing hard for all his effort.  He said, “What, Mr. Will?  I can get this thing down.”

I said, “Leave it.  It’s like a hinge up there.  If anyone comes around to check out the back yard, it won’t be obvious that we went through this here window.”

He let the plywood sheet drop back down and it hung there.  He turned back to me and smiled.  He said. “I think all the nails popped through on the rest of it.  Hopefully there ain’t any sticking out of it, or one of us could get hurt.”

I turned back to Lion Man and said, “You still got that flashlight?”

He came over and handed it to me.  He said, “Well duhhh.  Of course I do.”

I cupped my hand over the head and flicked it on.  I let a small slit of light shine through my fingers and examined the sheet from the inside.  He was right.  The nails were not set in a straight line.  They were sporadic. Some of them had not hit any wooden studs at all, and they stuck out of the plywood the sides.  It looked like a rookie had set the nails in this sheet. 

I said, “Come look up inside at this shit.  We have to be careful of the sides when we go in and then when we come back out through here.  Those few nails on each side will fuck someone up if we’re not careful.”  All of the nails on the bottom of the board had popped through it, because they were set solid into the wide sill, and there they remained.  The nails at the top in the header must have found good footing as well.

I cast the slit of light around inside the room to see what was inside.  It was quite odd in there.  There were aisles of shelves for books.  It was a library.  But there no books anymore.  I cast the light to the left, and saw knocked over tables and easy chairs, and on the right, more aisles of shelves. Odd indeed.

I turned back to the other two and said, “All right, fuckers.  We go in.  Now hold this sheet away from me.”  No One did, and I flicked the flashlight off and handed it back to Lion Man.  Then I climbed in and fell to the floor.  For some reason, No One let the board back down, and I heard them arguing outside about who would go in next. 

“Fuck you, I’m next!”

“No, Joseph, I don’t want to get hurt by them nails!”

In the library, it was quiet.  I could hear water dripping in the walls.  I could hear a field mouse squeaking.  It was probably pissed at someone invading his new home.  And then I heard a hint of a whisper.  It said, “Ssssshhhhhhh….”

My skin crawled. My eyes got damp with terror.  I was not alone.  I scrambled over to the board and pushed it back out.  I wanted to get the fuck out.  Someone was right behind me.  I said, “Joseph!  Give me the flashlight!”

He turned from No One and handed me the light.  “You Ok?  You look like you seen a gh---.”

I grabbed it from him, swung around, and flicked the light on.  I saw a dim white face slip behind one of the stacks.  I wanted to get the fuck out and I dropped the light.  Lion Man crawled in from under the board and I backed into him as I panicked. 

The light rolled away and shined on the walls as it circled about.  There were other white faces shining in this room. They were coming in through the walls.

Lion Man said, “Ow!  Weeee-ill!  What the fuck you doing?”

He fell inside against me and I was paralyzed with fear.  I said, “We need to get the fuck out.  NOW!”

I crawled past him as he went for the flashlight.  He grabbed it just as No One was coming in and he smacked me in the top of my head with his face.   He said, “OW!  Mr. Will, you just hit me on my face bruise!”

Then he fell on top of me and I could not move. I squirmed as he pulled his legs in and I could not breathe.  Maybe it was my fear, maybe it was his solid mass, but I was fully in panic mode and I was stuck.  Time to bail, time to visit the parole agent, time to get a job in the sunshine and forget about things that were not in my world.

My eyes streamed liquid, in my terrified state.  I punched at No One and tried to catch my breath, struggling to get the big brute off of me.

Lion Man stood up and swung the light around.  He said, “Huh.  Looks like some kind of library.”  Then he shined the light in my face, and I was blinded. 

No One stood up, and he said, “I’m sorry Mr. Will.  You Ok?  Hey, who are all these people?”

Fuck that shit.

I was on my way out.

See you on Saturday for the next part.  It will be quite long, my friend.

God Help You.  God Help Us All.

---willies out.

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The Fuckno Wars Chapter 1 Part 1

.

We held no weapons in our hands.  We followed no moral cause. We had the ethics of a thief among thieves. In this rock-bottom hole of our lives, we had one saving grace: we three were connected by our loyalty to each other. 

Perhaps that meant something.

Never Know Why by The Muggs

THE FUCKNO WARS

CHAPTER ONE

PART ONE

We sat on the tailgate of the tiny pickup truck, each with a bottle of red wine in hand.  We could just about see each other’s face under the starlight.  I felt the hot puttering of the tail pipe near my pant leg.  It had been a bitch to get it started, pushing it down the road over and over again.

Lion Man said, “We should make a toast.  Something that means something.”

No One said, “I got something my dad used to say each and every time he cracked open a bottle from his wine cellar…”

We other two waited for him to say it.  And waited.  Then I said, “OK, what did he say?”

No One said, “Lang may your lum reek.”

Lion Man said, “Long may my lump reek?  You don’t smell like a flower either, dude.”

No One said, “It’s Scottish Gaelic for ‘Long may your chimney smoke.’”  His lower lip quivered.  He was pissed off.

I punched the Lion Man in the arm.  I said, “Raise your bottle up and let’s toast to our fucking chimneys.  Long may they smoke.”

Lion Man laughed and said, “I’m gonna get my chimney smoked by a bitch come morning, mutha fuckas.”

We drank.

Daylight was ten thousand miles away while the Earth spins, a thousand miles per hour.  We had some work to do in the night.  We would soon travel from one scene of devastation to another.  The stately ranch behind us had been burned to the ground, and the mansion ahead had gotten an enema.  We sat and chugged our wine, laughing and joking and fucking with each other, trying to get No One riled up again.  We were getting our courage up for the task we faced.

In a bit, I slid off the tailgate from between the other two and flung my empty bottle off into the fig tree orchard across the road.  A girl I once knew would have gotten angry at me for littering like that, but she wasn’t there.  She wasn’t anywhere anymore.  I pushed her away from my mind.  Now she was nowhere.

“All right boys,” I said, “Let’s get this shit started.”  I climbed in behind the steering wheel.

Lion Man hopped down and threw his bottle off into the dark.  “Shotgun!”

No One hopped off the tailgate and the truck rose up.  He said, “What?  You got a sh—“

Lion Man cut him off, “Nope.  I got the door.  You be sitting bitch.”  He held the door open like a gentleman does for a lady.

No One frowned and got in, and the truck groaned and sank down a couple of inches.  He slid across the seat.  He sighed and pulled his meaty thigh up over the stick shift.  His wine bottle clinked against it.  He looked over at me and said, “Don’t grab the wrong stick.  I ain’t got no underwear on.”

I chuckled.  “Don’t get your hopes up, man.  Just watch out if we hit a bump.  You might land on a new addiction for you.”

Joey squeezed in and tried to close the door.  “Hey!  You ladies better exhale or something, or find me some rope to tie this door.  Scootch over big boy.”

No One pulled his thighs together and pressed me against my own door.  Lion Man got the door closed, and then everyone relaxed.  He said, “Ooof!  You fuckers are crushing me here!”

I said, “Hold on, we only have a few miles to go.  You two sure make a purty couple.”

We headed off to the intersection a mile away with the headlamps off, and over the mountain tops to the left, a red slit glinted and sneered at us.  The moon looked like she was hung over, pissed off at “who be making all of this fucking noise out here?”


Soon she would be a full red moon, blood red.

I could see the road ahead in the starlight, and it was a straight shot.  Across from the mountains, on the right side of the road, the far off crown of night light pollution from the ugly king of the desert rose above the fig trees as we drove forth.

If we just kept driving straight for a good twenty miles, we could sneak past the huge city.  We could avoid its ugliness and find ourselves in a nice town that had turned its back on its foul tempered neighbor.  We could find good honest work in the fields, or at a burger joint, or doing yard work for the wealthy residents that filled that little city’s pockets with hope.

Yeah.

Right.

We would never choose the easy way out.   Ever.  

Fuck.

At the rusty stop sign I flicked the headlamps on. I turned right, onto the tar, and we headed south.  The mansion awaited our visit, in a few miles.  My stomach quivered.  I grabbed No One’s bottle from him and took a long haul from it.  His bottle was still quite full.  Dude didn’t have much of a taste for wine I supposed.  I took another long haul and handed it back to him, but the Lion Man grabbed it. 

He polished it off and handed it back to the big guy.  No One put it up to his mouth and tilted back a bit, and then wiped his mouth and forced a burp.

Lion Man squeezed forward and turned to look the big guy in the face. He said, “Who you kidding?”

No One shrugged, and when he did, his arm rose my arm up and we swung left.  When that happened, he and Lion Man smacked their foreheads together and then we were heading for the ditch.  I swung us back to the tar and then the big guy fell against me.

“Jeebus in a chicken basket!  Sit the fuck still!”  I gripped the wheel and locked my elbows. 

“Mr. Will, I’m sorry.”  He looked like he was going to cry.

Lion Man rubbed his face.  “Dude, you gave me a fucking concussion with your big ole melon head!”

We were like the fucking Three Stooges, for chrissakes.  The crown of lights over the orange tree orchards to the left grew brighter.  My stomach didn’t quiver anymore.  Nothing like a good shot of freshly brewed adrenaline from a near crash to wake you the fuck up. 

We hit another intersection, and I turned left.  We drove in silence.  No one wanted to play any music on the radio, I guess.  I think it might have been something else.  Even though the windows were open and the desert air cooled us, the atmosphere in the truck’s cab was thick with trepidation. And then we were at the next intersection.  I swung us right.  Now we were on the route that led directly down to the mansion.  Along this path, we passed shiny pieces of metal on the sides of the road here and there.  It looked like a swath of destruction through a car parts store or something.

As we neared the mansion, something caught my eye on the sun bleached tar. There was a long pair of black marks on the road, like voids under the light of the headlamps.  I slowed to a stop and backed up so I could view them from the headlamps.  I opened the door and got out.  The other two exhaled in relief.  No One leaned away from the Lion Man, but he was busy getting out.

He said, “Piss stop!”  He took a few steps and just stood there and relieved himself.

I walked over to those odd marks on the tar.  I was drawn to them.  I could not say why.  I knelt and touched the nearest one.  They were two long lines, a vehicle’s width apart.  My fingers went down deep into the black mark.  Something had dug out a pair of trenches in the old crumbly tar.  In the dark shadow of their long trench, I swear I could feel long claw marks. 

I stood up and looked around to see where the asphalt had gone.  There were chunks of it scattered all about the sides of the road.  A lone mailbox stood there like a sentry, with a big dent in its head.  The door to it hung down like the tongue of a dog. 

It had been smashed by a chunk of the torn out tar.

A vehicle with great power had done this.

I felt my stomach quiver again.  There were forces at work about which I had no clue.  But the hairs on the back of my neck stood right the fuck up.  My instinct told me to hop back in the truck, turn it around, and then head for the hills.  Head for the mountains.  Head for the next state.  Don’t look back.

Of course, you know, we would never take the easy way out. 

I wiped my hand on my jeans, brushing off the remnants of a wounded desert road, and I headed back to the little pickup truck.  I climbed in, pushed No One over, and closed the door. 

The little Lion Man said, “Fuck that.  Bitch, time for you to ride in the back.” 

The wine was fully with him now.  No One slid over and out, saying nothing.  The truck’s suspension rose up.  Lion Man climbed in and slammed the door shut. 

He said to me, “Drive!  Quick before he gets in back!”  He laughed at his own joke.

Then the truck’s springs creaked and lowered as the big guy climbed in the back.  I put her in gear, and we crept down the country lane. As we neared the entrance of the long driveway to the mansion, we saw lights from where it stood off yonder.  Of course there would be lights.  What had we been thinking?  Of course the place would be guarded.  There were many expensive things, most of them reparable, other ones destroyed, but all owned by very wealthy folks.

As we passed the entrance, I looked down the long lane and saw a car parked across its way.  Most likely there was someone sitting inside it smoking a cigarette with the radio on.  There was no way I would stop now, let alone driving down there to say hi to him.  Who knew if he’d recognize any of us?

Lion Man must have read my mind, because he said, “Just keep going!  Fuck this shit.” 

No One knocked on the rear window of the truck cab and pointed back.  Then he scrambled up and stuck his head in the driver’s side window.  He said, “Mr. Will!  You just passed it!  It’s back there!”

I turned to him and said, “No.  I know it’s back there.  We won’t be driving down that lane.”

No One frowned.  He sat back down in the truck’s bed.

Lion Man shook his head.  He said, “We don’t have any time to come back another night.”

I looked over at him.  “Hah?”

He kept shaking his head.  “It has to be tonight.  We have no choice.  When morning comes, we have to face a lot of things.  A lot of things.  We have a fucking lot of things to explain to folks.  One of them is the owner of this stolen truck.  I got it from the hospital parking lot.”

Huh.  He was right. 

“What are you thinking?” I said, but I already knew.

He said, “We gonna park this old crate and leave her running with the lights off.  She’s our escape, our only one.  I got her filled up with fuel.  We gonna go and see what we can find out about those bastards.”

He was right.  And that sucked.  We would not take the easy way out.

Fuck.

I said, “OK, well.  So find us a place to hide her!”

It wouldn’t be wise to pass by that lane again, I just knew.  We came upon a power station, and he pointed at it.  He said, “Let’s put her in there!  It’ll be easy to find.”

He was right, it would be easy to find.

I slowed and turned in, and looked around.  A single streetlamp shined from a pole near the driveway, but it was dark near the structure.  I did a three point turn and backed the truck beside it, in the shadow of the trees.  I put my hand to the ignition to turn the engine off out of habit, but there were no keys.

Joey punched my arm.  He said, “What the fuck are you doing?”

I grinned.  “Just wanted to see if it’s really stolen.”  But I almost had shit my pants at my stupidity.

No One hopped out and the truck squeaked a sigh of relief and rose back up a few inches. He came over to the driver’s window and leaned down.  He said, “I knew you guys wouldn’t give up.”

I got out and closed the door.  I said, “What do you mean?”

No One wiped his eyes and said, “I saw her standing… I mean, I just had an idea that you would pull in here.”

Hah?  Dude was blabbering like an idiot.  I shrugged.  “We got some sneaking to do.  How good are you at sneaking around, quietly?”

 

He smiled.  He said, “I do it all the time.  I sneak all kinds of things.  I can steal good too.”

I chuckled.  “We won’t be stealing.  Just don’t make any noise.  Try to remember where this truck is parked.  Any one of us may have to drive it, but we won’t be leaving anyone else behind.  You got that?”

Lion Man came around to our side and said, “Yeah, boy, don’t be running off without us.  Weeee-ill’s right.  Leave no man behind.”

No One said to us, “Mr. Will and Joseph, I promise to you both that I won’t leave anyone behind.”

That being said, we went into the shadow behind the power station and I looked up.  The transmission lines on the huge metal tower stretched off for miles towards the crown of light of the megalopolis of Fuckno.

These thick transmission lines also ran in the opposite direction, to some off-skirt communities on this side of Fuckno.  Little towns and cities always sprouted up around huge cities.  Or perhaps they existed all the while and had  become encroached upon by the urban sprawl of one of their neighbors.  It would be the one in betwixt them all, in the middle, that got the most trade from them all, and so it grew and grew.

Now, barbed wire had taken over the free reign of cattle drives and such in the early days of the wild west, but thankfully, no one used it much anymore except for secure locations like businesses at risk of pilfering from the inside and burglary from the out.  Instead of barbed wire, now there were electrical fences for cattle, or else homesteaders had built simple but strong wooden fences.

I hoped for the latter, obviously.

We crept along behind the power station, under the light of the stars.  In the desert at night, the stars touch the ground on the horizon.  It is a big sky. We could make out the black shape of the mountain range, beyond the direction of the mansion.  The sliver of the red moon would be our guide as we went in that direction, but what would guide us back to the little truck?  I turned back and saw the streetlight near the entrance to the power station.  I memorized how it looked.  It is always a good idea to do such a thing.  Your environment looks different coming back from the other direction.  Always turn back and take a mental snapshot.  It may help you. 

We came upon the first fence when I smacked into it and fell over it.  I lied in the dirt, rubbing my thighs.  I had two charley horses now.  Lion Man began to laugh but he shut up.  No One reached down and pulled me up, even though I wasn’t yet done squirming about in silent pain. 

He said, “You OK, Mr. Will?”

I said, “Yeah, thanks.  But keep your voice down.”  I grimaced and rubbed my thighs, and then we went on.  I said, “Can you see the lights over there?  We have to head down further this way, so we can get to the rear of that place.”

The other two followed me as I hobbled along, and then No One said, “Mr. Will, how about a piggy back ride?”

I said, “No, dude.  Not now.  Besides, I don’t think I can lift you up, much less carry you.”

No One put his thick hand on my shoulder and said, “I can carry you on my back, just tell me where to go, and I’ll go there.”

Great.  I had a strong horse now.

We soon found ourselves at the rear fence when No One smashed through it and we both fell.  He rubbed his thighs, and began to cry.  It hurt, I guess.

I wiped the clumps of earth from my face and spit out dirt.  I looked over to the lights that indicated the mansion.

They were pretty close to us.  We had traversed the long back yard of someone’s home at a diagonal direction and made good time.  But the big guy was crying now.  Damn.

Then he shut the fuck up.  He looked over to another area and pointed.  He said, “She’s standing over there.  I can see her.  We should go that way.”

 Hah?  I looked over at the Lion Man, and he shrugged.  But No One was heading off, paying no mind to us anymore.  So we followed him.  Lion Man tugged on my shirt and he whispered, “Did he take a bump to the noggin on a rock or something?”

I whispered back, “I dunno.  But let’s see where he’s headed.  Can’t really stop him, ya know?"

We reached the edge of the mansion’s rear spread and No One kept wiping his eyes.  He said, “She ain’t here no more!”  Then he began to cry again.  He looked around, and then he said, “Oh, she’s over there now.”

He climbed over the wire fence and sparks sizzled under his thick hands.  He paid it no mind.  I pulled Lion Man close up to me and said, “What the fuck is going on here?”

He said, “I think he done lost his mind.  He’s following a phantom or someshit.”

I thought about that.  Maybe he was seeing a ghost.  He saw her when he was crying.  What the fuck?  Who was she?  Why was he following her?  Well, we had no choice but to follow him.  There was only one thing.  I don’t know about you, but I’m not especially fond of getting zapped by electricity.  Dude had just climbed over one and got zapped, but he was probably out his mind now; hopefully it was temporary.

Lion man took his leather jacket off and draped it over the wire.  He said, “After you.”  He indicated his leather.  Huh.  Always mind your leather, I guess.  It could help you.  So I went over the fence, and beneath his jacket, I could feel a tickle of sorts, all crackling there and then I smelled his leather getting sizzled.  It was not an unpleasant scent.

He came over and grabbed his jacket off the fence and shook it out.  He put it on.  Then he said, “Now where did that big bastard go?”

We looked about, and we could not see him.  I saw that we had crossed over into the back spread of the mansion behind a horse stable.  There were horses inside, I could see by the weak light of a filament bulb.  I said, “Joseph, we can’t spook these animals, or they’ll wake up the whole neighborhood.”

He nodded and pulled me along to the side, away, and then he whispered, “I see him.  He’s talking to someone!  Fucking asshole!  He’s given us away!  Let’s get the fuck out of here!”

He dragged me back to the direction from which we had come, but I grabbed his arm and yanked him back to a standstill.  I said in his ear, “Wait.  I have a feeling about this.”

We stood and watched, and then No One turned around, and he looked back at us.  How the hell could he see us?  He swung his arm at us in a beckoning manner.  Well, there you go.  I guess we were in. So we crept up to him, careful not to spook the horses in the stable.

No One said, “She says the Purple Robes are inside, and they know we are close, but they don’t know where we are exactly.  So what do we do now?”

Lion Man grabbed my arm.  He said, I don’t know what the fuck is going on here.  I don’t like it one bit.  It’s time to fucking bail, Weeeee-ill.”

I shrugged him off of me.  I turned back to No One and said, “Who said this to you?”

The big guy shrugged and pointed right in front of him.  “She did.”

Yeah, maybe it was time to bail?

God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out.

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