KDave

EPILOGUE Welcome to the white room. Mark sat on the floor beside his bed. It had been days since Dr. Lopez came to check up on him. When she told him about the disease, he began to hate her. She was blind like the others. Mark felt lonely now. He didn't like talking to himself. This was all Dr. Lopez fault. She took away everyone he'd come to know. He didn't care if they were real or not. "Who's to say what is real and what is not?" a familiar voice ran

Dr. Linda Lopez hated this part. But she had to do it. She felt like being God and she hated that. But she had to do it. How many patients had she put away? How many patient records had she tampered with just so she could protect other people, including herself, from the pressures of the community and the media? The thought of setting free a serial murderer was too much to bear and yet she felt like she'd been only protecting her personal interest. She's famous-or maybe i

Harold was out cold for a couple of hours. The assailant-slash-kidnapper fed him some knockout meds. He coughed up the rum used to push the pills down his throat. Some of the liquor even spilled into his nose, making the mucous lining in the sinuses swell up and bleed. Unconsciously, his body struggled to take in the much-needed oxygen as his respiratory system threatened to fail him. Fortunately, he had a strong heart or else he would have gone under cardiac arrest. "Time to wake up

The very first thing that Detective Harold Garson did upon waking that morning was to take a handful of aspirin. How much of this stuff would actually mean death, anyway? If one or two pills were good then five would definitely be better. The headache was splitting and no amount of over dosage would stop it now. Harold decided to defer himself from working that day-at least for a few hours or until the pain subsides. He was not an absentee kind of person. A gunshot wound on the leg hind

Rodney had not heard of his partner for a while now. Why then was he not surprised at all? Rodney Lee came home feeling exhausted. He had been feeling this way lately. The thought of being alone in his apartment made it worse. This was not the life. He had dozens of relationships and not one of them made him felt complete. From one woman to another, everything was the same. Late night fucking and talking was a staple dish served. The sex was fine but what Rodney really wanted wa

"Look, I've told you a dozen times already. I followed Marcus to that studio that night and..." Chloe said, hands clenching on top of the desk. The desk was just like these investigators-empty and cold. "And saw him having sex in a porn movie. We know Ms. Delle, you've told us that for the last 2 hours," the younger detective said. Rodney preferred his first name. Rodney Lee was his full name. And for the last couple of hours of questioning, Chloe Delle knew there was no get

Chloe felt as if was there was this thick barrier in front of her. No matter how she'd shout out from her side, nobody will ever hear her. Maybe they'll see her opening and closing her mouth as she ranted like a raving mad man but that's all. This reminded her of the time the police detained her for suspected arson. The one-way mirror in the interrogation room looked so deep like the ocean-beyond it laid deceit. Even if she knew there was only her, the glass and the people behind it, she felt as

Chloe's hands clenched. She felt betrayed. What was it that Marcus said? That this wasn't going to be a THAT kind of movie. What was she seeing then? She steadied herself, trying to wrap her head around the situation. She wanted badly to intervene. But what was her motivation? "Okay, that's fine Robin-good Marcus. Let's prepare for the next scene," Larry said. Robin stood up and went into a private corner to fluff up. Marcus moved to a nearby seat and wrapped a towel arou

Chloe turned off her headlights a few meters from the parking lot. She didn't want to draw too much attention to herself. She drove slowly and carefully, making sure the way was safe. She looked from side to side and sought out a perfect parking space, hidden from view. She parked rear end first so she could see the path leading to the main door clearly. It was dark out. She wasn't sure if Marcus went in already but when she called earlier that afternoon, all she got was his

Marcus was a bit early that afternoon. He didn't want to be late-first impressions last. Anyway, he'd spent at least 2 hours looking for the damn place. When he finally found it, he had second thoughts about going through with it. Marcus stood in front of the heavy metal door. On it was the label of the production company "SORE" plastered on in bold red letters. The door flung open and Marcus threw his eyes down to avoid social contact with the people that just went out. H

Marcus realized he had been staring at his tall glass of ice tea for over an hour now. He looked at his watch and darted his eyes across the room. Nope, he could not see her. Perhaps she was not even coming at all. He hated being stood up, especially when he is at a place like this-alone. He started spinning the glass on the table, which made the tea spill over. "Oh shit," he whimpered and began licking off the tea from his fingers while trying to clean the table with a coup

PROLOGUE With arms folded and ankles crossed, he stood impatiently by the stove. But he was not waiting for the water to boil. It was just something to do to keep his mind off things. Bad things-- It was getting late. He came home to find the house empty, which was very odd. "Where is she?" he thought, eyes looking intently at the blue flame of the stove. The emptiness of the house was deafening. Often, he would come home to the sound of a loud muffled t

Marcus' rape during the making of his first porn movie was just the beginning. Soon everything would seem surreal. During his disappearance, his best friend Chloe started searching for him in vain. As the search goes deep, so does Marcus' whereabouts. Turns out Chloe is not what others think she is. A detective offers his help to search for Marcus only to be entangled in the web of deceit, sexual perversity, coercion and sin.

ORPHEUS By: Ash_Apollinar “…and Orpheus made them forget about their women. He taught them how to be lovers of men…” --Greek Mythology ‘Orpheus and Eurydice’ I found a lone butterfly one day in Central Park. Weak and dying, it flittered sporadically like that flame on a weeping candle. Yet in my hands, the poor thing felt warm. Surely, the autumn air is no match for a spring creature. How then should I judge the season?

Help comes in many forms. In desperation, indulgence becomes an option. But this is a double-edged sword. The Cooper couple knew what they were putting themselves into when they hired a male hustler one night to play with. They just didn't know the extent of its effectts it will have on their marriage

[1]Delicadeza By: Ash_Apollinar To mother, having the strength of a tornado, thank you for the stories and to my heritage SANTA AUGUSTA—its lonely shores are beckoning me once again to finish a story I have left hanging without an ending years ago. The frail almost skeletal jetties, that lined the wharf, looked more like an old woman's weakened arms. It has lost its vigor and enthusiasm of welcoming those who have left the comfort of her bosoms. Standing at

Delicadeza is rife with magic and lessons one has to learn in order to be truly free from the bonds that hold us back from life. It's a sacrifice he never would've thought he could endure

: Help comes in many forms. In desperation, indulgence becomes an option. But this is a double-edged sword. The Cooper couple knew what they were putting themselves into when they hired a male hustler one night to play with. They just didn't know the extent of its effectts it will have on their marriage.

ORPHEUS “…and Orpheus made them forget about their women. He taught them how to be lovers of men…” --Greek Mythology ‘Orpheus and Eurydice’ I found a lone butterfly one day in Central Park. Weak and dying, it flittered sporadically like that flame on a weeping candle. Yet in my hands, the poor thing felt warm. Surely, the autumn air is no match for a spring creature. How then should I judge the season? I watched the poor thing shrivel as it unfolded its eye patterns on each brown wing.

this may sound so "anciently" old fashioned but I do still use my palm pilot--I know, I know...but it still works. They've gone obsolete even, ugh I feel so embarrassed. I mean, I'm usually up to date with technology but I just couldn't get into the new e-readers as of late. Probably because I'm a book horde, and now my place looks like a mess--if Clean House were to knock on my door, they'd be able to haul a truck load of books. I find the feeling of turning pages of a book a turn on, yikes---a fetish hehehehe. Talk about flipping a page on the G-TAB, IPAD or Kindle--it just doesn't have the oomph of flipping actual paper. Swiping a finger across the screen or pushing a button here and there just doesn't cut it for me--it feels hollow and empty. I'm usually not a cynic but....