YeahWrite #356- Microprose challenge. Baby Red.


Baby Red


“The fuck is you?”

The wolf licked his lips.

“Oh, you a tenderoni. Come on and give Grandma a kiss .”

Baby Red carried a glock and Nana taught her how to use it.

“What you gonna-?”

Baby Red smiled.

“Not today bitch.”

And the wolf was no more.



Yeah, Write #347- A Prayer from your Gods.

Yeah Write #347

A Prayer from Your Gods.


Light one candle.

Yours is the light of vengeance.

Ours is the power of flames.

You are our beloved one, our angry one, our bata, our pitit, our sweet angry child.

Light one candle, destroy them all.

We love you.

YeahWrite #342 Weekend Writing Showcase



Beyond Love.


I love you.

I loved you.

Until death do us part.

Congratulations darling, we made it. Can you believe it? I know, it was such a surprise but the look on your face was worth. The shock, the wide eyes and the screaming. Your little piggy squeals made my heart leap. It was really the sweetest most charming thing I’ve ever seen. I just love you so much. You are the perfect girl.

Oh, hold on I see you had a little accident. It’s okay love, don’t be embarrassed. These things happen when our bodies are cleansing themselves after death. Let me just, yeah okay let’s put your arm around my neck so we can get you rolled over. Good, perfect. Now, let’s wipe that off. when I was researching how best to help take care of your skin, you know what happened? I spent four days researching Lenin of all people. I wish I could do that for you, you know that don’t you?

I know, I’m sorry about this. Oh sweetheart, I understand. A bit of skin slippage is completely normal. The rigor took a bit of a toll on you too. Good news, you are all clean again. Did you like it when I touched you there? I liked it. I’ve never done you know, no you know. Am I blushing? I’ve never done any back door stuff with anyone. You see, you see how special you are?

Maybe we can try some, you know butt stuff? I don’t want to rush you. I know the other place; the sacred place is waiting for me. I can wait.

I want to wait. We’ve already been through so much together. Arterial spray, the piglet screams, the slow ebbing away of that light in your eyes. In those final moments, I saw how you saw me. You saw through what society says and what anyone else thinks. You saw into my heart and then, you laid back and closed your eyes. I can still feel the wetness of your last breath on my lips, it was right in that moment that I knew I’d chosen right.

You have always been the one.

I promised you as your body relaxed and released that I would be with you through it all. As far as I can. I will love you through bloat and CDI.

I promise my love, when the moment is right and the heat of decomposition runs riot in your body, we will be one. My love will drive the creatures from your body and I won’t share you ever again. When you begin to desiccate and your flesh is sloughing away, you will still be beautiful to me.

When you are bones, I will carry you with me for the rest of my life.

I love you.

I loved you.

After death do us part.

Yeah, Write #324. Black Pharaoh in the Morning

Black Pharaoh in the Morning

The air is strange against my skin. The current carries damp salt, cold sea and warmth like the breath of a stranger sliding up the back of my skirt, uncomfortable but not entirely unwelcome. The night passed too cool and quiet, my sleep was too thin and loose. I don’t feel rested but my body feels anticipatory anxiousness.

The way the dim sun struggles to make a show of dawn feels ominous. I’m nervous.

In the street, things don’t feel much better. Construction workers and street dudes all mill around looking pensive and trying to hide it behind wilted banter.

Everything is so strange and slightly off. I can feel my baby hairs fuzzing up and the urge to free my hair and run gibbering secret words is so strong I have to stop and breathe. Remind myself why I am here. Reassign the feel of the air from tenebrous to only another lukewarm summer morning.

This is not when the stories say it will happen. In the tales, it comes in the deep of night. There is madness and incantations. The Stygian alienist should awaken the chosen with his strange words and the air should reek of the void.

The stories lie.

I was born or made with the  R’lyehian mark already in my flesh. with the sweet malodorous putrefying  blue candy smell in my mouth. I move through the world with my human face and I wait and work and hold some tiny sliver of hope that my knowledge will come to use.

I am not afraid, but I am tired. This damp that ruins my hair and makes my body ache only serves to remind me how far from Hadoth I am. I am forlorn. I am singular. I am Nephren-Ka, I am the Crawling Chaos and mine is the duty to do the will of the Outer Gods. I know this. I am also Black and woman. I am dangerous on the Earth and beyond it, mornings like this I have to remind myself that I am no victim of weather and messy edges.

“Mornin’ Cactus.”

I don’t like strange men speaking to me. I smile and I know he calls me Cactus because he thinks it is a cute way to comment on my hair.


As I step away, his screaming overtakes the traffic noise and he runs into the street clawing at his clothes until he is bare chested. His skin turns red and starts to bubble, he looks like a hot dog and I smile more.

I, am he of a Thousand Forms. I am in flesh what drives White men to gibbering madness and terror that tightens their trigger fingers. I am The Nightmare.

Around me, the morning erupts in chaos. The man burning from within writhes and sings the song of the damned, people are running around the intersection like confused insects and the crash and thump of cars running into each other and the tired damp morning is rendered glorious.

I let down my hair and fluff it until it is a dark halo around my head. All is right and beautiful.

A warm current kisses the backs of my thighs under my skirt as I turn to spread my effulgent accursed joy. As he is loaded into the ambulance, the boiling man holds the EMT close and speaks between clenched teeth, his breath hot and fetid with the terror of one who has been touched by my hand.

“I failed to see Nyarlathotep has come.”


For those not familiar with Lovecraft see here for vocab help.

Yeah Write Entry #298- Desiderium For RG




Shannon Barber


I want.

I need.

Black wings, a flutter against my skull. I see you and can’t stop the thoughts. Is this mania? When I see the skin beneath your ear, all I can think about is how soft it is, how vulnerable. Teeth or blade? Kiss or bite? Predation. Lust.

Thoughts, bubbling like black water. Thoughts red and bloody.

I want.

I need.

Id rattling the bars. I am a shell.

A caress that precedes a slap, your hand around my throat. A threatening squeeze that echoes in my cunt.

I want.

I need.

My nails in your back, dragging skin until thin blood mixes with hot sweat.

Later, when we are spent, bruised and battered we will weep.

Drop salt tears on my breast, your cock hard again in my hand.

I am want.

I am need.

*I am longing for what is lost. 



I will craft nerd about this tomorrow and explain a thing. Also it is dedicated to and inspired by one of my Muses Remittance Girl.

Yeah, Write #280- Meeting God

Meeting God

By Shannon Barber

CN murder, choking.

I remember everything. Her soft hands, the look in her big black eyes, the sound of my breath entering her- I remember every centimeter of her. Her hands closed around my throat, she whispered her love against my lips, I knew she was God. She guided me into the promise of love and immortality with those hands. I died gasping,gape mouthed and in love with God. As she kissed my last breath away, I entered her to live inside her sweet mouth forever.

I was never a religious person. I never prayed, I barely hoped. I only survived. There was never a need to pray  until she was on top of me.

There was no goodbye. There was only her hands and heaven inside her thieving mouth.

And finally-



The Goddess Cycle#2



Them women raise hell. That’s what the bartender told me when she caught me giving a brick house butch the eye.

“You seem like a nice girl. Stay away from them, especially tonight.”

I nodded and thanked her. I found an empty back booth and posted up to watch. It wasn’t my town or my crew. I knew well enough that I was fresh meat and fresh meat causes problems. I have sense so I stay in my corner.

Two jukebox songs later, a beer appeared at my table, followed by a cat who sat in front of me meowing in my face.

“Well, you’re a pretty girl.”

The cat rubbed her face against mine and made herself comfortable laying half on the table and half on my tits. I stroked her back and felt her rusty purr.

“Just like back home.”

She murred at me and I murred right back at her. I do love my little sisters. More beers slid onto my table, the waitress leaned down to speak in my ear, her lean body radiated lust.

“These are all from Vic. The big bitch with the fade. Careful baby.”

She turned away and I lifted my mug to Vic, the same brick house butch I’d been eyeing earlier. I’d wait her out. I saw the narrowed eyes from a few other femmes in the room.

After another few beers Vic sauntered over and slid into my booth.

“Hello Victoria. Thank you for the beers.”

I watched her squirm and tilted my head. Outside there was ruckus going on, the sound of glass shattering. A red faced woman ran inside, her face streaked with tears.

“They fucked up my car.”

Victoria and I rose together and she grinned at me, I saw in her eyes that she knew me finally.

“To battle.”

I pounded the last of my beer.

“Hail unto me.”

We went into battle armed with bats and chains and blades. The fight as battles go was small but glorious. We drank the shrieks of pain as we would drink rich dark beer later. Those girls did indeed raise hell and I was the demon at the head of their pack.

In the grayness of dawn sated and my need for destruction softened to blunt hunger, I went on my way. My blessings had been given.

Look for me in the corner of your favorite bar and when you know my name, I will come.