Enjoy these samples from my fiction and poetry

Kāpiti Kvlt 

(excerpt from Chapter Sixteen)

An inhuman grunt comes from behind Saskia and there is damp breath on her shoulder. She turns around but nothing is there.

‘I can feel you, show yourself! Enter me, enter the Golem.’

‘Give… blood… fresh,’ a strained, hoarse voice whispers.

Saskia is sick and exhilarated. The magic circle flames are now a wall encasing the ritual space. 

‘Blood… feed… blood… then… enter…’ the voice says again.

Saskia obliges. She slashes the knife across her breasts. She cuts deep into her wrist. Blood drips and then flows out. It makes pitter-patter rain sounds as it hits the Golem’s clay body.   

‘Yes… stand… open… ready…’

Saskia is dizzy. She wobbles uneasily on her feet. Her vision is blurred and she has a head rush. She is about to faint, her body starts to fall back. 

‘Ready… yes… now…’ the voice is louder; the voice is inside Saskia’s head.

Saskia’s body jolts upright as her drooping neck snaps up straight. A whooshing in her ears becomes an intense ringing. It sounds like the most piercing guitar feedback Saskia has ever heard. 

Her vision is clear now — hyper clear — everything around her glows and pulsates with life. She hears and feels it all; from the cicada’s that rub their legs together, to the wind, to the flap of a bird’s wings miles above her. Not only can Saskia feel all of this, she is all of this.

‘Yes, now you understand… I need more blood, give me more.’

Saskia obliges again and again. Slashing at her legs now, her arms, and then above her eyebrow. This cut really opens up and flows. The blood stings her eyes. She pokes out her tongue, the saltiness is delicious to her and to the being within.

Saskia’s body tingles all over. She feels every individual drop of blood moving within and leaving her. Her heart throbs, her breath is heavy.

‘Bleed on it… bleed on the Golem…’ instructs the inner voice.

Saskia leans over the Golem, blood from her eyebrow cut drips on to its body. Saskia rubs her hands over her cuts and then rubs her bloody palms and fingers on to the clay being. She spits blood from her mouth on it.

‘More… More!’

Saskia leans over and rubs the Golem with her bloody chest.

‘Stand.. stop.’

Saskia obeys. She tilts her head to look down. Her stomach churns at the disgusting scene she has created.

She is lightheaded again.

Saskia’s mouth involuntarily opens. A bizarre sound like a growling possum being eaten by a roaring lion, or a fox being torn apart by a pack of wolves, escapes. 

A thick, black, smoky goo now pours out from her mouth. It twists and sways towards the Golem.

The gooey smoke frays at its edge, it splits in two, with one end entering the Golem’s mouth, and the other end seeping through the white rune carving in its head.

The Golem starts to twitch! Its fingers start to curl. Its arms moves. Its legs shake.

The blackness has now fully left Saskia, the last of it has entered the Golem, who sits up and turns its head. Its marble eyes glow white. They swivel to focus on Saskia.

The creature stands.

Saskia is fading, she has lost too much blood. Her vision is blurry, her surroundings are turning grey.

‘You have life,’ she whispers to the creature as she drops to her knees. 

Saskia reaches out to the Golem, wanting to touch her creation, wanting to know it. She falls face first into the rocks, smashing a tooth out as she collapses. 

There she lies; naked, bleeding and dying. 

The Golem stands and walks away.

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Office Aliens

(excerpt from "Tuesday Morning")

I’ve barely sat down and started up my computer when there is a knock at the door. I look up to see Martin, twitching with excitement.

‘Have you heard? Have you heard?’ he asks, gasping heavily as he tries to catch his breath; he must’ve been running from somewhere.

‘No, I’ve just got in. What’s up, Martin?’

‘The Prime Minister is coming to see us! He wants to check out the ABOA project! He is bringing the media. Our project is going to be on the news. The nation will see the valuable work that we are doing.’ 

‘That’s great, that’s fantastic’ I say, actually meaning it. There is no sarcasm in my reply, no cynicism, no hatred. I feel happy for Martin; this obviously means a lot to him. What the fuck is up with me this morning?

‘When will this be taking place?’ I ask.

‘In two weeks, after you and I have selected and hired the other two NHABs for the team. The PM is going to meet with us first, and then hold a media conference, which we will all be a part of. Can you believe this? If I… if we pull this off, we could be looking at a big pay rise, and it might even be the start of a parliamentary career for some of us!’

‘That’s great Martin, that’s really great,’ I say. 

I’m fully aware that Martin will be the one moving on to politics while I will be left behind, doing dead-end office administration. My mood sours a little.

‘What’s up, motherfucker,’ John’s telepathic voice enters my head as he slinks into the office, all the while his spoken voice addresses Martin with a meek: ‘Hello, sir.’

‘Good morning, John. I have some wonderful news,’ Martin says.

‘Listen to this puppet, this government bitch,’ John says internally to me, whilst simultaneously asking Martin out loud: ‘What is the wonderful news?’ in his gormless speaking voice.

‘The wonderful news is that, I… you… all of us here are going to meet the Prime Minister and be on TV!’

’What is the Prime Minister?’ John asks.

‘Sorry, Triangle one plus,’ Martin explains using the approved NHAB term.

‘Oh, the squadron leader of New Zealand?’ John questions, trying to relate NHAB leadership concepts to human ones.

‘Yes, the squadron leader wants to meet us to find out about this ABOA project. He is excited to hear the good news about NHABs and humans working together, proving once and for all that diversity is strength.’

‘This is our chance. This is your chance. We can take control, we can kill the head of the capitalist vampires.’ 

John’s voice in my head is full of scorn. I look over at him and his eyes are lighter than I have ever seen them. His real voice, however, is passive and melodious, as he says: ‘This makes me happy. So happy.’

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