Cat - Sep 2019
Murphy demonstrates the legendary cat stance so named because of the way a cat steps forward with its leading leg.
Other World - Nov 2017
She spent her days in tedious boredom, impatient for the nights that brought him to her.
Gate Keepers - Jun 2017
Finis - Mar 2019
Lucifer had contemplated long and hard. The Creator permitted evil. Stood by and did nothing to stop it. Of a moment, the Archfiend made up his mind and ambushed the top Archangels: hung one, crippled two, ate their souls, then turned them into metal.
The Deceiver unleashed the hordes and horrors of the Pit against an unsuspecting world. Their screams and cries, moans and wails formed the greatest symphony. Ragnarok had begun.
Araqiel - Oct 2017
Everyone thought metal band Araqiel's push of Satanism and demon worship harmless branding. It was no act.
Despoiler - Aug 2018
"Don't do it, Jason! She'll despoil you."
Brooding - Nov 2018
Rezna hated ambuguity. Lately though she found herself paralyzed for hours, knowing she had to feed but unable to decide if man or woman.
The Chase - Jun 2017
Godiva also worked the beaches.
Bonae Mater - May 2018
For every mother comes the moment when she must release her offspring that the world might benefit from her wisdom
Frolic - Jun 2017
Ink - Oct 2018
Garret stopped cold. Did she have a fire blazing? And what on Earth was that red thing? All he wanted was a tattoo. What the hell had he gotten himself into?
Haggle - Aug 2017
Four Shleki! Oh, woman. How can I feed the fruits of my loins at such a price?
Witchcraft - Feb 2019
Double, double, toil and trouble; fire burn and cauldron bubble. Imbue these objects I am grasping; to enable multitasking.
Sorceress A - Dec 2016
Sorceress B - Apr 2017
Sorceress C - Nov 2018
Jinnie - Oct 2019
Jinnie (Norwegian for genie) are far rarer than their Arabic counterparts. But every now and then a fortunate smoker in Norway encounters one when opening a fresh pack. And they grant five wishes.
The Wraith - Sep 2019
He felt himself awakening. Please, he thought. Please, please let me sleep. The morgue's antiseptic smells returned, filling his nose. Bright, overhead flourescents glared off the chrome vault doors, hurting his eyes. The coroner opened one. Bent, crushed, mutilated. What lay on that cold slab could not have been human let alone his beautiful Anna. Her smile made angels blush. This thing had no mouth. He screamed and never stopped. Heard nothing. Every day agony and suffering held him fast so torment could sear his heart. He sat bolt upright in bed. Anna stood in the doorway. He squeezed his eyes. She had not a mark. As perfect and radiant as ever. "Don't be afraid, Andrew. It's time to come home."
Paradise - May 2021
Paradise's Gate Guardian doesn't normally dress like this but she typifies the Cosplay fad raging within
Companions - Sep 2021
It's not that I take them with me wherever I go. It's that they follow me everywhere I go.
Deleted - Sep 2021
This is the visual equivalent of an ear worm. Whenever you delete a file you'll remember it.
Priestess - Aug 2021
Miana paused her ascent to reflect, astonished she did so. She had never before. Why now at the end? Her life had been one of acceptance not reflection. Still, she marveled at the twists and turns needed to reach this moment. And at the blurred swiftness of time's passage. Arriving at the Temple as a 7-year old novitiate, if she had blinked, 18 years would have passed to find her High Priestess.
Miana wondered what it would feel like, knew all the myths and legends foretelling what she would become. A deep breath exhaled. Her people's continuance and prosperity depended on sacrifice. She climbed the last step. A shrug let the robe fall from her shoulders and she glanced at the glinting, gold boots, symbols of rank and privilege. Miana strode past the platform's edge, plummeting 1000's of feet into the Pit of Souls.
Proposal - Sep 2019
As Alina recovers from her 1st shock, the 2nd sets in.
Proposal - Apr 2022
A larger variant
Ploy - Jan 2022
Many came from far and wide, lured by the legend of the most beautiful maiden in the realm held captive by a monstrous demon. If a brave and virtuous warrior could free her, she would be his and her love would bond them forever.
The skulls and stench adorning the throne room belonged to those who at the last moment discovered the true monstrosity when she opened her mouth to reveal glistening, razor-sharp fangs.
The Heiress - Jan 2022
Despite continuing chores and duties, an uncustomary hush blanketed the castle. Not because the much beloved Queen Regnant lay dying. Her age and frailty had made that long expected. But of late, the Heiress, her daughter, had acquired behaviors deemed...unnatural.
Nightly sounds swelled and echoed throughout halls and corridors, doing nothing to quell the rising
alarm. Chambermaids, minstrels, clerks, grooms, and even Knights exchanged nods and glances, whispers and looks at the cacophany
emanating from the Princess' room. Howls, grunts, moans, barks. And screams. Screams that continued long into the nights. They spoke
of dark arts, depraved acts, and no one felt safe.
Tension mounted when a group of Lords arrived to inquire after the Queen. Princess Noshara entered the throne room with four impossibly handsome men no one had ever seen before or knew. Restrained gasps arose when the courtiers saw the Princess' eyes had changed to a hue insinuating debauchery and devilry.
She suffered the Lords no courtesies, refused to answer their questions, then, with a wave of her hand, dismissed
Thereafter began the nightly forays she and her male retinue pursued. They returned through the castle's little used entrance deep within its bowels. Grooms collecting their horses spoke of the men's blood-stained lips and still dripping mouths.
A fortnight passed into a glorious morning witnessing the castle's staff falling to their knees and singing out in praise. The Queen emerged from her room hail and hearty, fit and young. Vibrant and smiling. All rushed to kiss her hand and pronounce their undying love. Indeed, the much beloved Queen was loved by none greater than her daughter who had bequeathed her mother youth by sacrificing her own life and soul.
Oedipus Regina - Feb 2022
With deliberate slowness, the Queen Regent rose from her throne, narrowed eyes fixed on the entrance. A burning rage swelled within. Dragons! In my throne room. Past assembled courtiers shocked into silence, her daughter sauntered in, a nonchalant, insolent smirk etched across her face.
On either hand, dragons hissed and snapped, straining against their
chain leashes. On strode her daughter, nodding at recognized faces, enjoying the expressions of disapproval, stopping only where the
throne steps rose. Her mother, struggling to keep an even tone, hissed a whisper. “You bring dragons into my throne room?”
“Oh mother. They're babies.”
Eyes narrowed more thinly, the Queen Regent gave her offspring a top to bottom then up again scan, managing to remain expressionless at a daughter dressed like a village strumpet. “Well, what do you think? Aren't they beautiful?”
Eyes closing, the Queen inhaled a deep breath. Yes, she was a mother. But now her daughter would learn she was also Queen.
Eyes snapped open. Without word or signal, her panthers sprang like notched bolts falling on the immature reptiles.
Fearsome, ferocious growls reverberated off the stone walls. The daughter gave a short squeal, dropping the chains and jumping back.
Overpowered and terrified, the dragons could not withstand the savage attacks. Steel-muscled jaws closed around soft throats, long
fangs puncturing through into softer tissue. Even after snapping their necks, the beasts worried and clawed their prey. Horrified,
the daughter watched a dragon twitch once, twice, then still into a rubbery, lifeless mass. Spurting, pumping blood slowed to a
trickling ooze. “Off.”
The panthers released, leaping back to their pedestals, licking their chops. Her daughter looked up, a stunned voice managing only a squeak. “Mother?” Cold fury stared back.
Betrothed - Mar 2022
My happiest memories growing up are of Marilyn's kitchen. I would jump down the last steps, race down the corridor, and turn right into a wonderland of smells, aromas, and colors. Bent over the hearth and filled with joy at seeing me, Marilyn would turn her head to give me a smile. She would tousle my hair, ask if I behaved myself, then if I wanted a dumpling. The very thought turned my eyes to saucers and my head could nod fast enough.
With two bare fingers, she would pluck one from the boiling animal fat, give it a few blows, then tell me
to open wide. She never missed and I would close my mouth around, when my vocabulary expanded, a delicacy. Delicious,
rich, juicy spices swirled all around and I learned to chew slowly. "Off with you now, young Prince, before you spoil
One day, my head long rush into the kitchen screeched to a halt. Before me stood an angel of such radiant beauty my heart stopped. Her smile grew ever more brightly as she crooked her head, looking back at what surely must be the court jester. Or perhaps fool. I tried to recover but not my mouth. It stammered. Hand stifling a laugh, she looked down, the kindness providing a moment to regain my dignity.
With two cooling dumplings, Marilyn appeared. "Well, young Prince. I wondered what delayed you. This is my niece, Deelana. Now open wide." Though I now towered over Marilyn, she did not miss. Following my lead, Deelana too opened her mouth for her aunt's unerring aim. We both stood there, chewing unembarrassed and grinning widely. "Off with you both so I can finish preparations."
It did not take long before I wanted to spend all my time with her. It also did not take long to learn that would not be possible. Every mid-afternoon, she turned for home saying she had to feed Iakko. When I asked why she didn't bring Iakko with her, that I loved dogs, she just laughed and ran off. When I raced down the corridor, bursting into the kitchen, it was Deelana I wanted to see. Only this day, just the helpers, cooks, and Marilyn occupied it.
"Where's Deelana, Marilyn?"
"Deelana is with Iakko, my Prince. Now, open wide." I did so only from habit. My world had ended, leaving my soul crushed. Iakko was not a dog.
The next day, not even the sight of Deelana smiling and waiting could lift my sullen, morose mood. Outside, nothing interested me. I could not speak nor even look at her. She ran ahead, whirling about to block my path.
"What ails you, my Prince?" Like a dam bursting, everything emerged.
"Do you not see? Do you not know the love I have for you? A love no one and nothing could ever surpass? A love that will never fade and always be true? You will never know anyone who will love you more than I. Never!"
She leaped up, her arms entwining my neck, our first kiss revealing a rapture possible only in heaven. She pushed away, grabbing me by the shoulders, her expression at once serious and playful. "Tomorrow at dawn meet me on the north tower." Dashing away, she turned to shout over her shoulder, "At dawn."
The sun had yet to rise as I stood in the chilled night air. Below, stewards and shopkeepers began to light interiors. My warming back alerted me to dawn's arrival but my gaze remained fixed below to catch the instant Deelana appeared. "I am here, my Prince." I spun around startled into shock. Deelana stood in the open air. She had arrived with Iakko.
Therapy - Jul 2022
When I emerged from the theater last night, I knew exactly where I would begin this review. The last five minutes of Therapy, now playing before sold out audiences only two weeks after opening, is the most riveting drama on Broadway.
Comprised of the 3-act classic, it begins with a dazzling display of technical wizardry. Done in collage form, a huge screen occupies the entire stage rotating videos popping in and out that document the play's main character, Dr. Murphy Orman's childhood, graduation, appearance on the national scene, press interviews, and award ceremonies. When the collage fades into the ether, the stage reveals a pensive Dr. Orman, the country's preeminent psycho-therapist, in her office where the play remains through the end. She reads aloud from a final draft of her upcoming book bearing the title of the play which focuses on the nature of consciousness. At times hilarious, she stands, strolls and sits offering reflections which swing from thought provoking to profound and always fascinating.
But as the play continues, we begin to wonder just who this wunderkind is. Hints of lunacy, insight, madness, and brilliance intermingle. It is an acting tour de force leaving us unsure if we are listening to an intellectual giant or a malignant monster. When a client arrives for his therapy appointment, the dialogue leading to the final five minutes becomes bone-chilling as it dawns on the audience how far Dr. Orman is willing to go in her exploration of consciousness. Even after the last five minutes lowers the curtain, the audience, shocked into silence, are left not only unsettled but inconclusive. Is the client unconscious? Or dead?
The Contractor - May 2022
How polite, Brooke thought. The clients, expecting her arrival, had left the shutter gate partially open. Perhaps good
fortune had returned. A welcome change from being scolded and shamed in the same week.
Her handler had minced no words. "Your client contacts have fallen drastically. I'm not in the habit of carrying dead weight on reputation alone. If your numbers don't rise, I will let you go."
Infuriating as his voice and tone had been, she had to look within and acknowledge he was right.
But reduced output was not the source of her shame. That came courtesy of a four year-old daughter.
Peeking into her room to find her playing with an assortment of dolls, she had knelt down to ask, "What are you doing, sweetheart?"
"Is this your family?" Without looking up, the little girl nodded as she continued maneuvering her dolls.
"Can you introduce me?"
"This is Jackie, and this is Caroline, and this is Albert."
"Your brothers and sisters?" Again she nodded.
"And where is mommy?"
"We don't have a mommy." She looked up, eyes wide and forlorn. "She's always gone."
Brooke rose and left the room not wanting Sandra to see the welling tears already rolling down her cheeks. Life had become
difficult after divorce. Difficult enough to force her back into a career path she had left behind. And on top of everything, two days ago her
gynecologist had confirmed a new pregnancy. She couldn't manage her affairs well enough with one child and now Sandra would soon enough have a
Brooke bent down to enter the building and climbed the stairs to the room where six clients waited. Minutes later she exited, her expression one of determination to somehow make things work. At least her handler would be happy with six new clients contracted. Upstairs, everyone lay dead.
Shock - Jul 2022
Elias' eyes snapped open. Sitting up, incredulity swelled as he watched himself emerge through a coffin. His gaze settled on the most beauteous, angelic face he had ever seen. His head slowly swiveled toward the mausoleum's rear where the entire back wall had disappeared. Eyes wide in shocked disbelief, realization dawned. Heaven had a processing center.
Selaphiel - Nov 2022
Our world is huge. Across the globe, thousands of bad things occur every hour. Led by the local minister, barbarians rampaged and raped into a House. They even chased a wench that escaped through a window.
She ran into the woods but exhaustion crumpled her in a clearing. And as the savages neared loosening their pants, a winged
being descended on a beam. In minutes the ground absorbed the blood of pieces scattered about. He turned to face the trollop. "I have opened a
path to divinity. I am there. Only three archangels are with the Christians. The Orthodox know four more."
His wings flapped, lifting him to the light beam. Rising to heaven, he glanced back. "I am Selaphiel."
For centuries, Cain's motives have been disguised. All he wanted was his brother's lover.