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Presenting - Tonight's the Night - Part 5 - #Dexter #Killers #SerialVegas @thedarkdexter

7/27/2014

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TONIGHT'S THE NIGHT 
PART 5
            After a few days they allow me to go home. It was nothing serious, my body just was a little confused somehow. It's not likely that it will happen again. It better not, because I have work to do.

            I have not yet considered going back to work for Miami Metro. I gotta say it was good to see them again. Also very exhausting to keep answering the same question. But these are worries for later, I have to get to where I was before any of this happened.

            I call a cab, get in and drive back to the old building. There is a certain mister Thomson on the table with a stab wound in his chest. Luck is on my side because there have been no reports about a body that has been found near that area.

            It's not too far from the hospital so I should be there in about 15 minutes. I hear a siren not far from where I'm driving so I look behind me. As the sound gets closer I see a Police car getting closer as well.

            It's not passing.

            They're here for me. My heart-rate increases. Is this really how it is going to end for me? The car forces the cab to stop and the driver pulls over.

            Quickly two men in Police uniform run out of the car with guns out and tell me to get out with my hands where they can see them. I slowly come out with my hands in front of me, as soon as I'm standing they push me against the car, put my hands behind my back and cuff them.

            "Dexter Morgan, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights?"

            I take a deep breath. I have waited all my life for this moment to happen. I was living my life facing the inevitable. Something about the situation calms me. No more hiding. I'll be.. free. I look the Policeman right in the eye and I calmly say:

            "Yes"
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Music Playlist - #Metallica - Welcome Home (Sanitarium) - #Vegas #SerialVegas

7/27/2014

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I woke this morning with this song in my mind, sweat dripping down my forehead. It's not often I dream of those years locked in a cage. I've done my best to push it into the spare rooms of my mind, because I just can't stand to think about it. They rape you a lot in lock-down, but I bet you knew that. Who is going to believe you? A father killing girl screaming about the guy that...see, I told you I didn't want to go here.

but, there were all those many colored pills. and it makes it all okay.  

Whisper things into my brain
Assuring me that I'm insane


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Music Playlist - All the sadness - Samuel Barber - Adagio for Strings - #classical #sadness #vegas

7/26/2014

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The Library - A Boy and a Phone Call - #SerialVegas #Vegas #Stalker

7/25/2014

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THE LIBRARY
A BOY AND A PHONE CALL
            There is a boy in the library. 

            Yes, a boy. Not a character from a story I'm fantasizing about...but a flesh and blood human being. and oh, my he is damn cute. Can't be more than 22. With closely cropped brown hair, he could pass for a military boy. 

            I approach my desk and sit, his eyes following me while he stands completely still near the wet bar. George taught him well. 

            "What is your name?"

            "George Jr., Master."

            Intense brown eyes lock with mine and I can't help smile at how very handsome he is. George Jr? How can it be? 

            "Is George your father?" I ask. I don't understand. 

            "No, he is my grandfather." Now, that I didn't expect. 

            His eyes are intense yet soft, like a poet. How fun it will be if he is a writer like his grandfather. I begin to ask him a question, but the phone rings. 

            It stops both of us, for this phone never rings. Or more to the point, has never rung since I've lived at Holden Farms West. Not this phone. I didn't know anyone had the number. I let it ring a dozen times before I decide to answer.

            I grab the old fashioned headset, "Hello?"

            There isn't a response and for several seconds I hear silence on the other end. Then, faintly at first and increasing in volume, music plays. 

            A strange sensation passes over my body as the music pulses in my ear. 

            "You have a letter," a voice says before ending the call. I yell into the receiver several times, but there is nobody on the other end. 

            The boy stares at me, waiting for orders or a reaction, but I have no idea what to think. Can this be Ryan? Another letter from him? Why would he play a song I just posted to my blog? Stalk me much???
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Music Playlist - Umbrella - Rihanna 

7/24/2014

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she says my name in the song. repeatedly. so i guess I have to play it
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Music Playlist - The Sound of Silence (Original Version from 1964) - #SerialVegas #Vegas 

7/24/2014

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Presenting - Tonight's the Night - Part 4 - #Dexter #Killers #SerialVegas @thedarkdexter

7/23/2014

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TONIGHT'S THE NIGHT 
PART 4
            I open my eyes. The light above my head is blinding, but after a while my eyes adjust and I recover the ability to see. I look around me and come to the conclusion that I'm in a hospital. A strange feeling enters my body. A calm yet frightened feeling.
            What if.. What if they found my killroom. This is bad. I need to get out of here.
            I get up slowly, taking off all the wires. I walk to the door and take a peek around the corners. No cop sitting outside my door. I sigh relieved. So there may still be time to get Mr. Thomson out of there. I look around for clothes. There unfortunately aren't any. I hear a noise in the hall so I quickly go back to the bed and sit on the edge. A nurse walks in.

            "Goodmorning, mister Moser." She says

            I look up a little shocked. I've been living under an alias for quite some time now.

            "Excuse me? Moser?"

            "Yes, we couldn't find any identification but one of our doctors recognized you." She replies

            And just as she says that the doctor walks in.

            "Hello, lil brother. Feeling better?"

            I look shocked at Brian, my brother. Just as I wanna say something I wake up.
It was only a dream. I blink a few times and wipe the sweat off of my forehead.
Just as I wanna look around my I hear another voice I recognize.

            "Rise and shine." says the voice.

            If there was ever a moment to panic, now would be it. I turn my head to look at none other than Angel Batista. He is just sitting there, smiling.

            "Angel?"

            "Hello, Dexter."

            A little nervous I ask: "What are you doing here?"

            "I got called in. There were some people who recognized you from the news. I was ,of course, surprised to say the least. We all thought you were dead. Why did you leave like that, amigo?"

            "I uhm.." I hesitate before answering. "With everything that has been going on, I just needed an escape. When I killed Saxon, and Deb died, I just needed a new start. You understand that?"

            He frown concerned and nods.

            "Of course I do. But there were other ways to do that, Dex."

            I smile a little embarrassed. Well, I act embarrassed. "Yeah well, I clearly wasn't thinking straight."

            "Is Harrison okay?" He asks as he sits a little closer.

            I don't even have to act like that hurt me. It does. I miss Harrison every day. Every day I ask myself if I made the right choice. "I.. I send him off.. With Hannah."

            "Hannah McKay?"

            I nod. "Yes. They're probably somewhere in Argentina."

            Angel shakes his head.

            "Why did you do that, Dexter?"

            The same strange smile comes on my face, but it's no longer an act. "I had this idea that I hurt everyone around me. So I needed him as far away from me as I could."

            I'm not sure why I am being so truthful toward Angel. Maybe it is because I no longer have somebody to talk to about my every day problems. I guess being alone has its downsides.

            "Jesus, Dexter." Angel rubs his head, because it's clearly a lot to take in. "How are you feeling?"

            "You mean apart from the fact I had a heart attack? I'm great."

            Angel gets up and starts walking around. "What I don't get is why you didn't leave Miami. You could have gone everywhere. Why did you stay?"

            "Because I wanted to have one thing that was real. I have lived in Miami all my life. I couldn't face leaving it behind too.

            He nods slowly and looks at his watch. "Dex, I have to go to the station. Get better soon. And, just one more thing. If you want to come back, you know we are always willing to take you back. You're family. We obviously have a new blood guy, but he is not nearly as good as you." He says with a smile.

            I smile back. "Thanks, Angel."

            "I'll be back later, hermanos."

            I smile again and wave. When he walks out I let my head fall down on the pillow. The fact he offered me my old job means they have not found the body. I'm safe, for now.

            To be continued..

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Another Fragment - Story for a Dollar - #SerialVegas - #Dragons #Romance #Poetry 

7/22/2014

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STORY FOR A DOLLAR
            The sign had no other adornment and was hand painted on rough cardboard. She did not understand and looked back at the man trying to take in his crazed appearance. She saw a scar below his left eye run down into his beard and disappear into the untrimmed hair. 

            “I will tell you a story for a dollar,” the man said. His voice rang deep and penetrated the noise of the street. Turning to each side to see if people watched she saw nobody paid them any attention. She took another step and looked at the table in front of her. The man held a tablet computer and watched her. Removing a crumpled dollar from her pocket, she placed it on the table. The man put the tablet down and grasped the dollar, shoving it in his pocket in one motion.

            “What story do you wish to hear?” he asked. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, rolling the arch of her foot upon the sidewalk, she considered his question. 

            “Tell me how you came to be here.” she asked. 

            The man frowned and tapped the screen of his computer for a few moments. He sighed and continued tapping on his tablet, but glanced up at her, his brown eyes once again on hers.

            “I do not wish to tell that story. I can tell you many others, stories of war, love, adventure, but not about myself; that story wouldn’t interest you. Perhaps I can tell you a story about dragons?” 

            “No!” she exclaimed. “I’ve had enough with dragons. I want to hear your story. I paid my dollar and I want to hear!” 

            The man stared at her, incredulous, a hand stroking his beard. 

            “Let me see,” he said, tapping again at the screen. 

            “The story is on your IPAD?” she asked.

            “No, no,” he laughed, turning off the tablet. “Checking the market. Sorry to keep you waiting. I will give you a story.” 

            He pointed to a plastic folding chair at the end of the booth and indicated she take a seat. The plastic felt hot against her skin as she sat, keeping her eyes trained the man. After she crossed her legs, she nodded for him to begin. 

            “There was a dragon in love with a princess,” he began. She stamped her foot in indignation and glared at him in anger. “I’m just kidding.”

            I spent my youth amid the splendor of wealth, but safe to say, I did not please my father with the choices I made from such an early time in my life that by my 18th birthday he made it fact that I couldn’t take possession of the money set out for me until such time that I was married and stayed married. Those are the basic facts. I told my father that I wanted to marry for love, not for his money. I vowed to spurn his money and his judgments of me and moved from the luxury of home to picturesque Warwick.

            “Excuse me,” the girl cut in quickly. “You’re from Warwick?” 

            “Why, have you been there?”

            She looked at him, as if trapped in thought, but otherwise didn’t respond to him. The man shrugged and continued.
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Music Playlist - Sinatra - I get along without you very well... my sadness in #vegas 

7/22/2014

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Witness the Horror: A Play Demonic (The Queen's Idle Fancy) - Chapter 14 @JustinBog #horror #Serial #Fiction

7/22/2014

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A Play Demonic (The Queen’s Idle Fancy) — 


Part 14

by

Justin Bog


            Roger’s dreams troubled him upon waking early Sunday morning. His palm ached. The insubstantial slice from a theatrical prop dagger. In his dream the blade was real. Waltzcrop, with devilish pleasure, plunged the entire wicked thing straight through Roger’s palm, blood flying, the howl of coyotes running free on the hills capturing the heavy red scent. He swore his hand grew heavy, leaden as he made coffee to face the day. His sleepy gaze resting on the blinking light of his answering machine. Instead of listening to more vitriol, he pressed the delete button and the blinking stopped. Those who wanted the play so badly, would receive a copy today. Soon, he had no memory of his disturbing dreams.


            Roger spent the next hour planning, rain a constant companion, counting the copies of The Queen’s Idle Fancy, worried he’d not ordered enough. He’d left copies for the three young ladies behind the counter of the print shop on a hopeful whim—must fill the nonspeaking roles, the pages, pigeon keepers, laundry women, cooks, hunters, and farmers, their starving wives and daughters, sons, brothers who turn into a hungry mob. The three girls were locals all, newly graduated and holding down jobs in town, something to be proud of, and he encouraged them to make it to the first audition. (He didn’t hear one of them laugh after his departure and the other saying she felt creeped out by him just standing there talking about a musty old play. How he stared at them. “Gave me the shivers.” Still, almost as if compelled to do so, and despite their playful devious gossip, all three took a copy of the play home to read.) He imagined a series of auditions throughout the month of January, winnowing the players, the major and the minor cast members, down to the perfect gems, shining facets.

            Here is your mark. This is your moment. Make it count.

            There was so much to prepare for. Firstly, he placed all of the copies of the play in a waterproof bag, and set that in a large cardboard Avocados carrying box he’d kept from his last trip to Costco. Who demanded a copy? Kate. She was the only person on his list this morning. The other copies he imagined sprinkling about town like a jaunty elf, gifting them to those he held in high esteem. Morton and Sally after Kate. They’d been acting strangely around him and maybe he could convince them to go out again that evening or Sunday night for beer at The Brown Lantern. Catch up. They’d been so taken with their initial reading. And, secondly, he tucked the dagger, the prop, the gift from Waltzcrop, into the large front pocket of his winter coat. He imagined taking it out and sharing it with Morton and Sally. Scaring the mighty Kate Denisov with it, as he had been scared.

Find the rest of the tale at Justin's Amazing Website HERE
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