The Deeper Anger (part X)

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(continued)

Portland, OR

Jan. 23rd, 2019

the child known as Amaya began to hate by the time she was four. She hated her parents, those lying, deceitful beings that kept her alive but not much else. By age six she learned that they made money on her, that they collected money from her birthdays and even during holidays when relatives gave her money. They kept it for themselves and acted like model parents, treating her with love and kindness that was as false as the smiles on their faces. Those smiles disappeared when they returned home to their trailer park home. It was kept up nice, but in no way accommodated a young girl growing up. She had to feed herself, bathe herself, brush her hair, her teeth, and dress herself to their liking to be made to appear as a well-adjusted little girl. There was hell to pay if she did not.-

Damn you! the spirit roared, Stop this!

Amaya hated them with a deep and resounding passion but was smart enough to know that she could strike out against them, as they would repay this in kind with their own brand of cruelty, as they had done on a few occasions when they felt she deserved it. She’d had her right arm broken for being what they’d said was quiet arrogance, she’d received a black eye from her father after asking him to help her in opening a jar of jelly, and her mother had even come close to allowing her to die of heat exhaustion by denying her air conditioning in her room during a particularly hot summer. She hadn’t been allowed to open her window, only to sit there in quiet contemplation looking at the bare walls of her room, hating them even more deeply than before. All that had happened to her they’d explained away, and they’d been believed-

I beg you, STOP!

“God’s mercy,” breathed a voice in front of her, and finally Amaya looked up, seeing an armor-clad stranger that looked absolutely beautiful, shining, and regal in his shining suit and with his white, shimmering wings spread out behind him.

She felt more than saw as Azazel, demon that he was, flew from her, or tried to as she latched on tightly and used the demon in that moment as the tool that she’d been seeking for so long, something with which to finally exact her revenge. She might only be a girl, but her anger ran deep, deeper than most hells could contain, and darker than any angel would dare to venture into. She had studied for years now the lore and any and all tomes she could find on angels and demons, and she had laid her trap perfectly. Implausible as it was, a young girl had found the means to defeat them both, and was prepared to do so without hesitation.

The angel hesitated. His mistake.

(to be concluded)

Welcome to the Loop (part IV)

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Vancouver, WA

May 31st, 2020

She went to ask about Mr. Ashbey that same day, only to hear the story that he’d gone to Seattle for a job once again, and the continuation of her theory was reborn. People could get out of this loop if they knew they were in it. How anyone got into one was kind of hard to explain and even understand but it seemed as though it was possible to get out. Why Mr. Ashbey hadn’t told her was hard to imagine, but he had to have found a way out, right?

But what if he hadn’t? What if there were people watching that didn’t want people to escape the loop?

No, no that way led to paranoia and she didn’t need to encourage it. She already felt like she was going nuts and that certainly wouldn’t help, not a single bit. Instead she wanted to believe that somewhere in this world, perhaps somewhere in her town, there was a way out, something she could do, something she could find, that would allow her to exit this damned loop for good. She didn’t know how long she’d been here but it was long enough. Any markings she made to pass the days wouldn’t be there in the morning, and even cutting herself or marking her body in some way wouldn’t help because she woke up the same person in the same body without a single mark on her.

She hadn’t tried the whole death ploy yet but it was largely because she was too chicken to take her own life, not because she hadn’t thought about the veracity of it. Plus, she really didn’t like pain so she’d have to find some way to-

No, nope, it wasn’t going to happen. But she had to find some way to test her theory, to see where it was that people went, those that weren’t in this town but had been when she’d first arrived. She had to find out how it happened and then discover just how or where she was supposed to go in order to make it stop. After all something or someone had put her here, that made it necessary to think that there was a way out.

She wasn’t good at quitting, but damned if this didn’t make her want to just lay down and never get up again, just to see if it would work.

(to be continued)

The Deeper Anger (part IX)

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(continued)

Portland, OR

Jan. 23rd, 2019

What did you say?

She felt the voice tense within her, coiling as though to strike at that last bastion that she held to, clung to, despite the fact that it was the worst and most damning thing that she’d ever experienced in her young life.

Answer me!

The demon didn’t even seem to notice that they were no longer over solid land, a thing that it had warned her about more than once since accepting her invitation. That she lived by a river was something that had made the thing balk more than once, but now that she had it good and pissed off it seemed to have forgotten that little tidbit.

“I said,” she replied, “send me an angel, RIGHT, NOW!”

And with that, she let the last part of her go, allowing her control to slip just enough that the demon flung it wide open, seeking its release through that one final opening in her soul that she’d hidden away. That final, damning moment of raw, unchecked anger washed over it, through her, and came forth in a primal scream that flooded even the demon’s senses in a way that drowned out its sudden scream of denial.

there had been a young girl named Amaya. Her mommy and daddy fought a lot, in fact they fought about her, about what a drain she was on them, and what it cost to take care of her. He didn’t have enough work, she didn’t bring in enough from her jobs, and their child needed so much just to grow and be healthy. It was never Amaya’s fault, but they’d seen her as the enemy, the one that had stripped them of their happiness, their love, and their peace of mind. She hadn’t been wanted, she’d been an accident. But her mother and father had forbidden her from having an abortion, had stated that they would disown her and ruin the both of them if they went through with it. So they’d had her, and every day since then had been a stain upon their lives that they’d never let her forget

The demon howled, as the scalding pain of these memories were only the beginning, only the barest hint of the torture its current vessel had experienced. And still, Amaya let it go, she didn’t need this anymore, and it was time to put it to good use.

by the time she was three and walking, talking, and almost using the potty she’d been beaten, pinched, slapped, and made to feel useless. Her daily routine was having her diaper either ripped away so hard it left a mark or left on to become sodden with her filth, causing sores that her parents had to take care of lest child services be called on them. They begrudged everything they had to do for her, be it food, diapers, or even just being in the same house at times. They’d even left her for hours on end to cry and suffer the loneliness that had gripped her at a young age. She had subsequently taught herself how to survive

NO MORE! For a demon Azazel seemed rather squeamish, but Amaya knew very well that no matter how virulent his touch was, no matter how evil he was, her anger was deeper than his could ever be, her pain was something that he could never hope to match.

She knew something about being reviled, and she would pit it up against anyone or anything that dared to complain about their lot in life.

She knew what it meant to hate.

(to be continued)

Welcome to the Loop (part III)

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Vancouver, WA

May 31st, 2020

She woke to another day, feeling a bit dazed and definitely irritated with herself, with the world, with everything in general. Her mother told her from the hall that it was time to get up and she didn’t argue, but she did make her now expected detour to her window, expecting to see her neighbor outside with his dog. Standing at the window she looked down, and her eyes widened slightly.

There was the dog doing his business as usual, sniffing around the yard for that right spot. But Mr. Ashbey wasn’t there.

Her heartbeat sped up a bit as she looked all over the yard, seeing little more than a leaf-strewn landscape with a few odds and ends within their garden space, and Mrs. Ashbey standing by the back door of the home, waiting impatiently for the dog to finish. She stepped away before she could be seen, but her heart was still beating madly as the thought of what this meant tried to process its way through her sleep-addled brain.

He got out.

That was all that seemed to reverberate in her mind as he managed to get dressed, make her way downstairs, and prepare a bowl of cereal for her breakfast. She ate in a mechanical fashion as her mother went about her way, making lunches for her and her father as he came down in his own time, yawning as he always did before giving her a kiss on the top of her head.

He got out.

Maybe she could too.

(to be continued)

Rantings, Ramblings, and Ravings on the Campaign of 2020 by David Vills

Either the bath salts have finally gotten to my head or my anger is truly justified. That  and the fact that some think Michael Avenatti, the Stormy Daniels lawyer, is a viable, leading candidate is depressing. Obviously Ben Shapiro is wrong to think that Avenatti is THE lead candidate, however a set of circumstances could arise where Avenatti is the Democratic Party candidate. Avenatti is a typical huckster lawyer and obvious opportunist whose political stances are either obvious, meaningless, not enough, stupid, or highly dangerous. 

He wants to discuss the denuclearization of Iran, a nation with no nuclear bombs, unless he means getting rid of Iran’s nuclear power plants. He only wants to decriminalize marijuana, while the legalization of cannabis is a proven success throughout the nation. His stance on education provides no solution as it simply says, “a kid’s zip code should not determine their future,”. So what education reform do you wish to enact to change that? Many of Avenatti’s proposed policies are empty of solutions including jobs, trade, and college affordability. All of Avenatti’s good ideas are stolen and everything is just a statement. It is as if he conjured up his policy plan in a single hour. To be fair this may be true, his policy plan is written on a word document posted to Twitter. 

This is not to say Fox calling him a “Creepy Porn Lawyer” is truly accurate. Avenatti is just as sleazy as a 70’s porn tape. Avenatti is a Hillary Clinton-style politician, planning to campaign on nothing but selling half measures and the popular opinions of others. I would be more on board with Avenatti if he wanted to legalize and regulate prostitution, but the lawyer of a porn star can’t even do that right. Avenatti has snaked his way into the political discussion and sadly, it might work. 

Avenatti is trying to sell himself to those that simply hate Trump for hatred’s sake. If made president he might be moronic enough to push us into accidental war with Russia or some other nuclear power. If Avenatti is president I’ll highly consider moving to Amsterdam so I can spend my days on shrooms at Dutch cafés, and I do not even like coffee. Kyle Kulinski is right, political discourse in America has fallen apart, it is nothing but nonsense shouting, accusations of sexual crimes, and straw-manning. It is difficult to run an efficient nation when that nation is controlled by corporations with citizens that elect inexperienced TV personalities. And don’t give me some Ronald Reagan horse shit, in the long term Reagan left us a failed war on drugs, a Nicaragua in shambles, and the start of America’s massive overspending. But he took out the Soviet Union. The Soviet Union would have fallen anyways since it was a superpower built on lies. 

I am supposed to be discussing Avenatti, but there is not much to say since his political career is created entirely off of mainstream media hype. Avenatti is a joke of a candidate that will get easily obliterated by a Bernie Sanders type candidate because issue for issue Justice Democrats beat boring Corporate Democrats like Avenatti. Enjoy the attention Avenatti, hopefully you’ll soon be as relevant in American politics as Martin O’Malley. But then again I am not the best at guessing, my Superbowl picks are almost always wrong.

The Deeper Anger (part VIII)

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(continued)

Portland, OR

Jan. 23rd, 2019

The destruction lasted until she hit the I-5 bridge, where the demon seemed to hesitate, as though unwilling to go forward. She would have gladly stopped nearly a mile back, as the highway was now littered with wreckage and bodies that had yet to stop bleeding. Police cars and the officers in them had been added to the wreckage as Azazel had continued the barrage, never once seeming to tire as the massive amount of destruction had unfolded around her.

Azazel reveled in it, basked in it, and continued to try and come forth with wild abandon. But still she had managed to hold it down just enough to keep the demon from entering into this world fully. The effort was starting to take a toll on her however, and the demon knew it.

Why do you resist, it asked, pressing at its bonds as did. Why deny me? And how are you doing this?

“I invited you for a reason,” she said through gritted teeth, “I knew that something like you wouldn’t be able to resist.”

And yet you resist, it crooned, you deny me the true carnage I could unleash with you by my side, exulting in it with me.

“I don’t want this.”

Then why call me? Its voice was a snarl now in her mind as she tried to take a step forward, only to be hit with a wave of vertigo so forceful that she had to stop and plant her foot before she fell over.

Answer me child, Azazel snarled.

“I,” she said, swaying slightly as she tried to right herself, “I wanted, it, to end.”

The demon didn’t know how to reply to this, halting for just a moment as she saw her chance.

“Send me an angel,” she breathed, “please.”

And with that, she stepped onto the bridge.

(to be continued)

Welcome to the Loop (part II)

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Vancouver, WA

May 31st, 2020

She’d woken up at 5:30 this morning, as always, and after rolling out of bed a full minute before her mother had reminded her for the umpteenth thousandth time that she needed to get ready for school, had gone to look out the window that gave her a view of the neighborhood she’d lived in since she’d been born.

Nothing had changed, Mr. Ashbey, their neighbor on the other side of the backyard fence, had been out waiting for his doberman to do his morning duties. Several of the houses she’d seen, as she always did, were lit up from the inside as people were waking up to start their day. Not a one of them seemed to understand that they were stuck here as much as she was. Or maybe they didn’t notice because these copies of them, the aspect of them stuck in this time, couldn’t perceive it. Maybe their future selves got to move on from this place and assume the paths that their lives were meant to take.

Maybe. But what she’d seen that morning had convinced her even more that her original theory was right. Mr. Ashbey, his first name was Derek, had been a family friend for a long time apparently, and he’d always been good to them. Her parents had never said he was a dear friend, but he was someone they could depend on and had done so throughout the years. This morning though he’d done something however that had unsettled her even as it had confirmed her theory, in her mind at least.

He’d winked at her, and nodded.

The wink might have been nothing on its own, but the nod seemed to cement the idea she’d come up with that others were stuck in this strange time loop, and they knew it. But then her hopes had been dashed when she’d had the moment to walk around the block to ask him about it.

He’d been gone.

His wife, Reagan Ashbey, had told her that he’d departed early that morning for a job assignment in Seattle and wasn’t bound to be back until the next day. She might have found this a little more suspicious if this hadn’t been the first time that she’d seen him notice her.

For now, her theory had been shot to hell in a way.

(to be continued)

Welcome to the Loop (part I)

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Vancouver, WA

May 31st, 2020

She’d done all this before, and yet so many people didn’t seem to realize it. She’d seen the movie Groundhog Day and knew very well that a time loop like this should have been broken by now. She’s been out doing more things in one day than most people managed to get done in a month, and still it didn’t seem to be enough. Still she woke up every day at 5:30 am and had to go through the same routine.

The-SAME-routine. EVERY DAY.

She’d done the same thing she’d seen that old actor do and tried to make things go her way, and for the most part she’d had some entertaining days and some that would have made headlines across the nation, but each and every day she found herself back in her bed, her hair somehow stuffed in the corner of her pillowcase, and her blankets thrown over her head as she seemed to do during her sleep. Her mother had often told her that she found her in the weirdest positions when she came in to wake her up, and yet she’d never understood just what she did in her sleep that would cause this, or why she’d never woken up with aches and pains from having slept in such contorted positions.

But her eyes had snapped open again and again for so many days now that she’d lost count, always to the same position, always with the blankets over her head, and always with her mother telling her it was time to get up.

She was stuck in a time loop and she didn’t know how to get out. Every now and then however she’d seen a few people looking at her with what seemed like comprehension, as though they knew what was going on. When she tried to find them to ask them anything however they were gone, which had unnerved her most of all since everyone else acted in the same way, did the same things, and never once deviated from their course. Up until now she’d largely ignored these individual, thinking that they were perhaps an anomaly of each day that came about when she did something different.

But she’d found out that wasn’t the case in the last few days. Those people that were looking at her as though they understood something no one else did never came back. She could remember several of them by now and not once had she ever seen them again. It was as though by noticing them she had somehow changed something, causing them to disappear.

It was enough to make a person paranoid, but to be honest that was the least of her problems.

(to be continued)

The Deeper Anger (part VII)

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(continued)

Portland, OR

Jan. 23rd, 2019

The highway was a mess of cars, bodies, and twisted steel. Shattered glass littered the ground like thousands of sparkling diamonds, and the six lanes of traffic that had once been nearly stopped with the untold number of cars that traveled about at all hours of the day were now heaped together in the wake of this one little girl that strode among them, the force within her flinging people and automobiles about as though they were nothing more than toys to be cast aside.

And inside the demon was gloating, frolicking, and having a grand old time. Amaya felt the strain as it was still attempting to break free of that last hold that she had upon it, the last vestige of control that would not allow it to run amok. She could not hold on forever, but if she relinquished that hold it would bring forth more than just the demon. It would unleash something she did not want to think about again, a terrible burden that she’d kept stowed away for the past few years. It was a weapon that she would use at the last possible moment, if at all.

She had a secret that her mother had told her to keep, that had festered inside of her for nearly a year before her mother had taken her to a psychiatrist that had recommended a way to deal with the trauma she’d endured. His advice had been figurative at best, as even someone her age could understand, but she had taken it literally, burying the secret and all it contained with it, the rage, the betrayal, the hurt, and the utter disgust and desire for revenge, within the darkest recesses of her mind. She’d heard since that most people could not help but revisit the trauma they’d experienced in their lives, but she had kept hold of hers for some time now.

At this point however she was wondering just how much longer she would have to keep it in order to prevent the demon that had taken hold of her to run rampant throughout the city. She wasn’t doing a great job of stifling its efforts to create the maximum amount of carnage right now after all, but she had thought up something that might work, if she was willing to play along for a while. For a young woman of 12 years old she was still rather intelligent, and not just for her age.

She had a plan, but she had to make it quite a bit further yet. And there was no telling just how much more damage the demon would cause before she got there.

(to be continued)

Ghosted (part XI)

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(continued)

Phoenix, AZ

May 25th, 2019

He drove to the spot where Edith had been when she’d first answered the phone, stopping just a few miles outside of town just north of Lake Pleasant. It was further than he would have thought Jess would have gone but thankfully there was no one at the lake today, which meant that what had to be done could be handled in privacy.

Stopping by the side of the road he signaled for the other man to do the same, looking all about for where Jess could be and wondering just how Edith had managed to get the drop on his friend, especially since he hadn’t been alone. As the other man came close he didn’t waste time though, this needed to be handled quickly since people did happen to come down this way now and again.

“Get her and come on.”

The other man didn’t bother asking questions or arguing over the best way to go about their job, he just did as he was told. That was good, that was what was needed right now. As they made their way down the steep embankment he wasn’t expecting to see anyone, but then disappointment was a constant thing at times, and as he saw the first individual he managed to see the second crouched behind a bush just a short ways off, aiming a rifle right at him.

“Wait!” Jess shouted, his voice hoarse as he waved the other off, “It’s not her, it’s Ty!”

The gunman relaxed, and that gave Tyrone the moment he needed to retrieve his own gun from the small of his back and put two rounds into the gunman, who collapsed instantly as his brains exited the back of his head in a fine red mist. Jess was quick to pull his own weapon and plug the man carrying Edith in the chest and then in the face, dropping him instantly as well. And then Tyrone did something that he knew Jess wasn’t expecting. He shot Jess twice, once in the hand and once in the gut. The gun flew from Jess’s fingers as he cried out in pain, collapsing to his knees as Tyrone approached.

Jess didn’t even bother to ask why as Ty came to stand a few feet from him, close enough to not miss but far enough that Jess couldn’t reach him.

“Didn’t fool you, did I?”

“Nope,” Tyrone replied, raising his gun as he shot Jess through left eye, silencing him for good.

He left soon after concealing the bodies behind a small hillock, his steps a little heavier as he made his way to the car. By the time he got home however he’d already managed to put it behind him.

God would never forgive him for these acts, but he’d made peace with that.

The End