http://www.jerseydevilpress.com/

I may or may not have some stories published there.

Her eyes are closed. The sound of the rain hitting the bus-ship hits her first. The rain started to live up to its name again after you left. The skelingtons are ready; she tells herself that she is, too. She doesn't need to shout out orders. Not anymore.

*****

You're standing a dark place. A void of what could be but isn't. How do you end a story that's broken, confused? You have to think of something. You've chosen to fight, not lie down and be forgotten. But, without a way to make everything work, everyone will be forgotten. None of this will end. You and September will stay stuck on the bus-ship, never moving forward and no one will know. There has to be a way out.

*****

Her minions cut through metal skelingtons, gorillas, sand golems, and other monstrosities. She walks by the carnage in a daze, not paying notice. She has to buy time. She has to keep things moving to give you a chance. She distracts the Man with the Pen.

*****

Sitting in a room, lit by a sickly white glow, The Man with the Pen pinches the bridge of his nose. He's as confused as everyone else and growing very tired.

What the hell am I doing? he wonders. This is never going to work. What am I going do? I need to get rid of them somehow.

*****

September walks purposefully towards Jackson's lab, her skelingtons following. She doesn't bother to draw a weapon.

It starts with Derek. His pistol slips through his hand. Before it hits the ground, the gun fades away, too. He doesn't get the chance to worry about what's happening: he completely fades away too quickly.

The scribbled blueprint of the castle on Shelly's skull melts down on to her ribs then down to the floor. She touches a finger to the blue mess on a rib and brings it close to her face to inspect it. She reaches up to examine the back of her head, but fades away before her hand makes contact.

Joplin's bike helmet falls through his bones, knocking down his shoulder, elbow, and knee pads as it moves. He tries to ask a question, but doesn't have a voice. He's just a skeleton, with no personality or individuality. His joints all come apart as he fades.

The top half of Morris falls forward as his spine slips through the duct tape that'd been holding him together. He looks up and watches his bottom half vanish. The tape falls on his face, but he doesn't have the spirit to push it away, and he fades before he has to.

Tool looks back to see his most of his team is gone. He pulls a gun in with one hand and a cutlass with the other. The sword flies through the air as his hand disappears. He drops the gun out of fear, but the emotion doesn't last long. Nothing of Tool lasts anymore.

Ron's foam head hits the floor with a soft thud. It rolls towards September and watches the corridor spin. His markered eyes wide with tiny pupils. The lines making his eyes growing thinner and thinner, until he's just a ball on the concrete floor.

She doesn't have to look back and doesn't stop. She knows they're gone.

*****

The Man with the Pen takes a sigh. He's relieved that it's almost over. The confusion and frustration will soon end. He just needs to get rid of the others.

*****

It feels as though you've been standing in the void for years. It's hard to think here. Every thought has to be forced through. The darkness is irritating and fills you. You focus on September; how you want her safe and remembered. You see a light in the distance...

*****

 

September stands behind Jackson. He's ripped Dr. Mellick apart, leaving one, small piece working: an eye, still blinking. He holds Mellick's arm, snapped off to a point.

"This is coming to an end one way or another. Why bother fighting?" He doesn't even turn to face her.

She has no words. She knows what has to happen.

"Have your man give me the envelope and I'll end you peacefully." He turns around, holding Mellick's arm as a weapon.

September slowly pulls a gun from her waistband, never looking up to Jackson's eyes.

"This isn't right! We should all be able to live our lives apart from the Man with the Pen!" Jackson jabs Mellick's arm towards September, snarling with his yellow teeth. "We should all be able to make our decisions! Our own mistakes!"

She fires two quick shots towards the goblin, just wanting to stop his monologue. It's time to end this.

*****

There are words in the light. You can see that they're there, but they're hard to read. Something you weren't meant to see. As you think and pace around, more words stream through the light. You try putting your hand through the light, but it resists. As you touch the light, a ring of rainbowed colors expands from your fingertip. For a moment, the words stop. You put your hand to the light, lean into it, and make a fist. Pulling your hand out, words fall down into the nothingness below you. You speak Words of your own...

*****

The Man with the Pen stops. There is something wrong with The Words. This isn't right. How STOP ITs be happening? StLEAVE US ALONE is this? No, WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?o! Stop!

I'm almost finished! You can't do this now! YOU'RE GOING TO RUIN EVERYTHING! This is impossible... You can't do this! SHE HAS TO BE OKAY! YOU CAN'T HURT HER! She has to die for you to become the hero. Jackson wins the fight; you avenge her and take over the story!

No. You can't. She needs to live.

She isn't real! She's just a character.

She isn't just fiction! These aren't just words on a page!

I will finish this story! There is no happy ending! She dies, you become the hero, and it's over!

No. There's always another way. ... I can take away your hero.

What? You can't!

I can. The story can end here, with me trapped inside. She'll live on to be written again, adventure after adventure.

That's not the way a story works! It has to have a proper ending! She needs to die, you need to become a hero, the reader identifies with your pain and wants to see you fight on in her name! It can't end here!

It can. It'll end here and she'll be stuck in your head, still unfinished.

There's no ending here! There's no closure for anyone!

And then you'll have to go on writing. If she dies here, then there's nothing to keep her going. But if the story ends now, she'll live. There's one clear way. There's always the last dues ex machina. Just two words and it's over.

No! Please! I've worked so hard to end this all! I need to be done with it!

Two words and it's done. You'll have to let her live. I die... she lives.

A hundred years ago, Mitch was surprised to have woken up in Hell. The first twenty years he lamented burning all those ants, but has since grown desensitized to the horrors around him. Eight years of constant immolation sure does suck, but then you get used to it. Mitch started reading and hosting book club. Ronald, who had killed nine helper monkeys, was damned to an eternity being a bookstand for Mitch. After a while, the two became good friends. Their podcasts are a big hit with everybody.

"Why don't you ever go to the movies?" Ronald asks, propping up a copy of the novelization of "Diane..." - The Twin Peaks Tapes of Agent Cooper.

"Never took to them. Turn. Weren't around when what I was alive."

"They've made some good ones. They show a new one every week at the Duo-Plex. Die Hard was last week. I liked it."

"What was it about?" not that Mitch was interested.

"Well, this cop goes to LA to see his estranged wife at Christmas, but there's a terrorist plot going on --"

"Turn."

"So, it's up to this cop, John, to stop them. There's explosions and stuff." Ronald nods his head at the word, 'explosions'.

"Why can't the local cops stop them?"

"The terrorists locked down the building. They're real smart."

"Turn. Did they make it into a book?"

Ronald cocks his head to think. "I don't think so."

"I'm done.