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DeVil in the Details. Vivamus, moriendum est
Ever meet someone that just screams chaos, but you go for it anyways...If you answered yes, then I know you're lying. Because you never see it coming until they carve the fucking words into your forehead with a piece of your own fucking rib...****Bitter Truths " That ain't nothing but the Devil!""...Sometimes horrific events come into our lives. We get fired from our jobs. We get ill. A loved one dies one. Scrolling through the news we are overwhelmed with murder and natural disasters, as Mother Nature and our fellow humans seem to be in race to see who can kill us off first. Hate surrounds us.It is only human to look at these thinhs and wonder "why." Why do they hate us? Why do we hate them? Why does so much horror have to happen in this world?The "why" is the origin of fear. The "why" is the unkown, and people fear the unknown. This fear of the unknown, of things that lurk in the dark, that threaten our existence...It is where horror is born.Some people will look at the hor
DeVil in the Details. Yesterdays, Todays and Tomorrows
His stomach churned as the door knob turned and creaked with sinisism he thought he could feel in the air, but what he saw, who he saw once the door was open...he almost dropped the gun. And as he put his arm by his side, he was tempted to hide it. The door was open and Nick came eye to eye with Rowland as the door creaked wide over the sound of the radio;"Row...", the way he said his name was a whisper with that voice of molasses that still gave Rowland chills, but this time it was more like the chills you get when you feel or see something supernatural. He might as well have said 'no', for Rowland didn't believe it either...What does a ghost say to another ghost? The fucking thought made him feel like his life was just some fucking joke and that pissed him off, but before he could react with anger, Nick marched toward him and then did the strangest thing - he kissed him. It was full of impatient passion but all Rowland could justify was the taste of bitter-sweet cherry cola on hi
DeVil in the Details. Chapter one: Liar Liar
Shellville, which was really more of a large town for that matter. A little piece of butt-fuck nowhere in the midst of glamorous Californiacations just out of San Diego's reach, but which luckily had a beach front. And like many cities or towns or even all, Shellville held a common atmosphere on the best of nights.It was cold, bitter and yet beautiful all the same.Minus the people...Night seemed to be the only time a man could quench his thirsts and never look back in regret until later the very next day. Men and women alike, throwing a couple of pennies or paper rolls as well as hours at each other for sex or for drugs all in good neighbourhoods.Being the world we live in now or rather, the world that has always been a current and fashionable norm as cycles turn in order to try and stop it.And one could be, although shouldn't be fooled by the Emerald city atmosphere in day time's delouse. For, it was the night time that which most people are skeptic of, that many come to show t
DeVil in the Details. Flower Boy
The night was getting dark as the hours crept towards Midnight, but the people's needs were darker, so dark they appeared unseen, and Oliver was a testament. The man who swiped the wallet called for his undivided attention; walking amongst the few other nocto-freaks who roamed the streets at night with a smug look on his cheap face just before he crossed the road, no one in his shoes would shame this slimy stranger for his current choice, seeing as he got away with a thick and fancy wallet, who wouldn't feel lucky?Oliver smiled having a knowing feeling that he was going to have fun tonight, starting with him.But the night was still young,he figured he might take his time.He tailed the thief with his eyes to a dinky and rusty yellow lemon of a car, which Oliver figured either belonged to said lowlife or rather a car that he saw fit to steal at some point. He spotted the car ten feet away from the shadows cast by the lamp post as the stranger made his way across from the dodgy alley
DeVil in the Details. Chapter two: Dionaea Mascupula
As you now know, Shellville was a small town, but not nearly as quiet. Street corners buzzed here and there accompanied by police sirens which zoomed through the city-like lifestyle on a Saturday afternoon, as Oliver sits and eats cereal while watching his favorite cartoons. Typically, he would want to be left alone, stay home and mind his own business, but the night that which slowly shoved the sun down beckoned him to partake, and who was he to say no?One after another his boredom had gotten the better of him as he huffed out smoke from his hand made joints that which he mixed with other things, his excitement made him fidgety, he wanted more than that.Something was going to happen tonight, and Oliver would hate to miss it.The night before to him was peaceful surprisingly so, but that wasn't what he was going for. Oliver thought as he blankly stared at the clock on the wall, which he thought was broken, and waited for the short hand to fall on the six; it was not for any reason
DeVil in the Details. Abyssal Benthos
So Oliver waited just outside the convenient store until the dark stranger came out and walked by him seemingly without any knowledge of his presence. He first waited a bit before he then dropped what was left of his cigarette and crushed it as he quietly tailed the stranger, keeping his distance while he eyed his surroundings and watched as the stranger turned a corner after a block away from the convenient store. Oliver picked up the pace a bit to catch up and see where to next... But the stranger was gone. He walked on a little further down the street and found a club shnob at around a minute past ten and decided to go inside, only after being roughly stopped by a large black woman by the door who asked for his ID. It was a good thing he had his wallet...Looking for the nearest public bathroom he could find to splash his face and change his apparently dull red hair to what the package said was midnight black, he went straight to the men's room. Hoping that this was the place that
DeVil in the Details. Chapter three: Groen Fingers
Humdrum neighborhoods down on the coast in the somewhat very last sweet drops of summer. Bring out a certain type of sunlight for the occasion and which stand out to some individuals who seek a specific asceticism in their lives, such as of beach palms and vast panoramic views of seemingly endless oceans.Especially to one individual in particular, whose backdrop consists of all these perfect little things.This individual is named Rowland. And to further identify this amateur photographer, slash graffiti artist; who would spend most of his time defacing walls and billboards where ever he could get a chance as he walked the sandy streets on his own, being one of many of his favorite pass times. Being a young messy-haired, fair and yet dopey looking coconut *coloured kid from South Africa, he lived in a quaint apartment with novels and comic books and strange nit-picks that which he fancied, staked about him and plastered on walls.Working for minimum wage at a café and carrying the b
DeVil in the Details. Mesembryanthemum
Once he found his allusive lighter, he resumed his recreational activities on his shabby balcony overlooking the horizon, now black-blue with pale moonlight unfortunately cloaked by street lamp lights below. It was going for two in the morning, but he simply could not sleep. Sound of the music and the sound of his thoughts mingled peacefully, enjoying the ambience. Sinking to the floor and following gravity as he sat down on an old lawn chair he found...comfortable. Thinking of a story he heard on the news of a another missing persons case the day before and wondered if wandering the streets was worth the risk considering how far he was from anyone he knew, he was certainly a long way from home, home being on an entirely different continent.He had decided to go anyway, out on the town. Rowland at the time believed that he needed the excitement, staring at the waning moon through the bars of his balcony like a prisoner would through his only window - a morose pale blue with the wi
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