Friday, 18 July 2014


I am aware.

It shouldn't be possible for me to be aware... of anything, but I am.

I am aware of the anaesthetics when they flow through the catheter, and the nutrients that keep me alive.

I am aware when they harvest my dreams, and of the contract that brought me to this living hell.

One year of my life they said. One year's worth of dreams, then a full pardon and freedom.

I am also aware, somehow, that the year has long ago come and gone.

They will never let me wake up, never let me go.

When my dreams die, I will die with them.

Yes, I am aware, and that awareness itself is my punishment.

©2014 Stephen. J. Green.

Friday, 11 July 2014

On the ledge (Part 3)

On the ledge (Part 1)
On the ledge (Part 2)


I shouted up at the guys at the top of the cliff. After a few moments the faces reappeared.

“Ah... look guys, this might sound crazy, but I can't leave the ledge yet, I have to stay here until morning.”

“What? We have to get you out of there man. There's blood all over everything up here, and whatever did it might come back.”

“No worries, the killer's all broke up at the bottom of the cliff, but I think I got an infection from him, a real nasty one, and if I have I don't intend to let it leave this ledge.”

“But we need to get to the cops, man.”

“I know, but trust me on this, if this virus gets out there'll be even more deaths, best to play it safe.”

The pair looked at me dubiously. I knew their phones and internet wouldn't work out here, so they couldn't call for help, and it would take them several hours to make it to the nearest town.

“Well okay man, it's your call. We're camped a couple of miles north of here, we'll come back in the morning, but after that, whether you come up or not we're gonna go find the cops. Is there anything you need down there to see you through?”

I reeled off a list. Food, water, toilet paper, clean jeans, tee shirt, boxers, and my kindle.

Before long the gear was lowered down to me in a rucksack. The rope slithered back up again once I had untied it.

“Sorry about the blood stains on the jeans.” One of them said. “They were the cleanest pair we could find.”

“That's okay, blood stains are better than the ones I'm sporting right now.”

After ensuring that I would be okay until morning, the two left me alone. Understandable really, no-one in their right mind would want to spend any more time among the mess at the top of the cliff than they had to, and I was pretty sure they weren't convinced that the gore-spreader wouldn't return.

I stripped, washed using up one of the three bottles of water, and put on the clean clothes. I then ate a whole packet of chocolate digestive biscuits washed down with luke warm water. I eyed the tins of corned beef, beans and peaches hungrily, but since I stupidly didn't include a tin opener in my list, and they stupidly thought I must already have one with me, they were off the menu.

I pulled the kindle from the bag, flicked it on, and settled myself down to read while I waited for the sun to go down.

The kindle turned out to belong to one of the other guys, not mine. So I resigned myself to not finding out if the butler had, or indeed had not done it in my current book, and feasted my eyes on the available titles.

Wolf creek
Dark side of the moon
The joys of camping
Wuthering heights... Wuthering heights? Sheesh!

I tossed the kindle to one side, closed my eyes and leant back against the rock face.

Kate Bush dancing in that ghostly, flowing white dress swam into my mind's eye..

“Heeeethcleeefff... it's meee Catheee I've come ho-ome I'm so co-o-o-old...”

She stared straight into my eyes as she danced her way closer.

“Let me in at yo-our windo-o-o-ow”

The dress slipped from her shoulders.

“Oooh it gets dark... it gets loneleee...”

It hit the floor.

“On the other side from you...”

She leaned right over me.

“I pine a lot... I find a lot...”

I was mesmerised by her naked beauty.

“Falls through without yoooou...”

Her fingers touched my cheek, caressed, tickled... annoyingly so...

I jolted awake, slapping at her hand, and dislodged a massive spider from my face. The creature fell to the ledge and disappeared down an impossibly small crack. Ugh!

The sun was almost down into the sea now, spreading its red skirts through the sparse cloud cover. Beautiful, I just love sunsets.

I stared at the horizon until the red faded, and was replaced by a darkening grey.

Although I couldn't see it, I knew that on the opposite horizon, the one behind me, the moon was on the rise. A gloriously full, beautiful, bad moon rising.

I knew it because I could feel it in my bones. The very bones that seemed to be growing, pushing my hands and feet further away from me.

I could feel it in my lengthening fingernails and protruding jaw. I could feel it in the very hair that was rapidly covering the whole of my body.

But most of all, I could feel it in the primal howl that was building up inside me, like a massive dam on the verge of rupture.

I stepped to the lip of the ledge and snarled down at the rocks hidden below in the dark.

My tee shirt and jeans ripped open as they succumbed to the growing pressure of expanding muscles.

As I stepped off into space, I was still human enough to feel the annoyance at the unfairness of it all.

But then again, no-one ever said that life was supposed to be fair.

©2014 Stephen. J. Green.

Many thanks to Kate Bush for the words, and the images in Wuthering heights.

Friday, 4 July 2014

On the ledge (Part 2)

For anyone wishing to read from the beginning
Part 1 can be found here:- On the ledge (Part 1)


Before long my injured arm began to throb rather painfully. I pulled my tee shirt over my head, and with the aid of my teeth managed to tear it into several strips and fashion a crude bandage around my elbow and upper arm.

My stomach lurched again, so I retrieved the wrapper, folded it around the wad of gum and put it back into my pocket.

I leant my head back against the rock face, closed my eyes, and tried not to think about what was waiting at the top of the cliff,

A tap on the head caused me to open my eyes. Christ! I must have dozed off. The filtering light told me it must be nearing dawn now.

Another tap on the head, then a shower of dust hit my scalp. I looked up, shielding my eyes as best I could, and was panic-stricken to see a pair of long, hairy legs amidst the powder avalanches.

Jeez! The thing was climbing down.

A massive shower of dust and small rocks hit me in the face blinding me. A long, primal howl joined the cacophony of scrabbling claws and rattling debris, culminating in a rather loud thud as something big, heavy, and very pissed off landed in a thrashing heap on the ledge beside me.

I furiously rubbed the dust from my eyes and when I saw my new neighbour, wished to god I was still blinded.

The huge, dusty furball beside me began to unfurl. It pulled itself to its full height, and shook its head confusedly.

I tried to sit even lower, making myself as small as possible, shrinking back against the rock face, holding my breath, maybe it was too dazed to notice me?

I should be so lucky. Yeah, that's me, just like Kylie bleedin' Minogue. Lucky, lucky, lucky. For some insane reason I found myself humming a few bars of the song under my breath.

Uh... Oh! Bad idea,

The creature's ears twitched. It's head slowly swivelled in my direction. Yellowed, malevolent eyes glared at me. A mouth, lips drawn back to reveal finger-length incisors snarled menacingly.

“Err... Nice doggie? I croaked, hopefully.

The snarl deepened and more teeth were bared.

I felt the blood freeze in my veins as sheer terror washed over me. My testicles fought with each other in a futile race to hide inside my stomach. The crap I had earlier managed to keep in let loose and with a warm, liquid splurge filled the seat of my pants. Wonderful... just bleeding wonderful!

The first rays of sunshine hit the ocean as the creature raised its head skywards and opened its jaws wide.

What began as a deafening, throaty howl, gradually diminished over several second to become a squeaky whimper.

I watched disbelievingly as the creature literally shrank before my eyes. Claws retracted, hair receded, limbs shortened and thinned. The snout flattened and the ears rounded.

What now stood beside me on the ledge was a slightly podgy, naked, middle aged man.

He sank slowly to a sitting position, his back against the rock face, holding his head in his hands. Almost mimicking my own position.

We sat side by side like that for a few minutes, the silence growing like a tumour.

He was the first to break.

“Errr... I don't suppose you have a cigarette you can spare?”

“No... sorry. I don't suppose you have any toilet paper you can spare?”

“Err.. no, sorry.”

We both lapsed back into silence again.

I don't know what was going through his mind, but I was wondering what would happen if we were both still on the ledge when the moon came out again.

When he spoke again, the sudden noise, quiet though it was, startled me out of my thoughts.

“Look... I'm err... sorry about your err... friends.”

“It's not your fault.” I replied. “You can't help being what you are. No hard feelings, eh?” I said, and offered him my hand.

“Well, that's awful decent of you.” He said as he reached sideways and clasped my hand in a soft handshake.

I gripped his hand tighter, rose half-way, and putting all my strength into the action, dragged him up and around in a swinging arc, letting go just as he reached the tipping point. I watched dispassionately as he sailed, arms flapping, off the ledge and disappeared from view. His shrill scream ended abruptly as I heard the crunch when he hit the rocks at the cliff base.

I looked down, his body was draped over the sharp rocks, all odd angles and over-jointed. Well, that was one problem taken care of, and I had the ledge to myself again now, a bit more room to spread out.

I must have fallen asleep again, because the voice seemed to come from far away. A distant whisper that grew in volume until it dragged me back to reality.


I looked up to see two faces peering over the cliff edge.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” One of them called.

“My arm's injured.” I replied.

“Hang on, we're gonna get you out of there, just hang in there.”

I almost wept with relief, salvation was at hand. How the hell I was going to explain all this, I don't know.

The stink coming off me was kind of self-explanatory though.

My arm began itching annoyingly. I lifted the bandage and took a look. Impossible as it seems, the wound looked almost healed, and poking out from the skin were several thick, bristly hairs.

A sudden, chilling thought hit me like a hammer blow. Was I infected?

I think the moon is due to be full again tonight. I guess I'll find out then.

Continued in:- On the ledge (Part 3)

©2014 Stephen. J. Green.