PostsChallengesPortalsAuthorsBooks
Sign Up
Log In
Posts
Challenges
Portals
Authors
Books
beta
Sign Up
Search
Challenge
Prose countdown coin challenge. Write the first chapter of your bestseller in 50 to 500 words. The winner will be chosen based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Number of reads, bookmarks, and how many shares will also be taken into consideration. The winner will receive 1000 coins! When sharing to all your social media channels, please use the hashtags #LitUp #GetLit #ItsLit #Hybrid #WeAre
Book cover image for Sinistral
Sinistral
Chapter 11 of 20
Profile avatar image for BloodforInk
BloodforInk
Cover image for post Chapter 1-You cant unsee or unteach, by BloodforInk
Book cover image for Sinistral
Sinistral
Chapter 11 of 20
Profile avatar image for BloodforInk
BloodforInk

Chapter 1-You cant unsee or unteach

On a warm September night, unseasonably warm, the wealthy young soldier on furlough came home to a quite distressing affair. A rabid dog, or a dog at least, had attacked his wife and she was quite dead. These things happen, seemed to the sentiment among his neighbors and the case was quickly dismissed by the authorities. The dog was never found, determination of ownership uncertain.

The matter may have been put to rest if the husband had not made the incident the focus of his existence. Having been the first to see the ravaged remains, the Corpsman did what most grieving husbands do…he had bloody disjointed sex with the deceased. The act was quick and terrible, both gleaming with bodily fluids and serenaded by the one piece noise machine; all the while being objectified by the neighborhood dog walker…little Graham Fallin. The tears in his eyes were little diamonds of joy, his face flushed with amorous longing

With the resolve and patience of a good southern soldier Francis waited until his better half was buried to start his obsessive revenge. Within a week he had murdered every dog in the community and put Graham out of business. In the wake of this development, the young entrepreneur decided on a duel course of action. First, to catch the man who took his job, then to teach everyone he knew about the glorious art of love.

So Graham went work. To determine the killer, the young sleuth snuck out night after night dressed in his mother’s fur, knee pads and socks taped to his head. Striking out in his pursuits and stirring up the neighborhood rumor mill with stories of a bear, Graham finally asked his mother. Mrs. Fallin-McDrumph told him that more than likely it was their neighbor, the soldier that had lost his wife in the “accident.” To Graham, who knew better than his mother the love that this man had…real love, the connecting kind, this sounded like utter nonsense.

“Mom, its not him, I knew him much better than you.”

The hand, that had before been deftly placing wildflowers in an arrangement, stopped.

Her face concerned, “How is it that you know this man so well? Has he done something to you.”

Seeing the conversation was heading in an unexpected direction, he decided to leave quickly, under his breath claiming that the man had taught him about true love.

The next part of his plan was better thought out. Being out of a job had put a damper on his eight year old extravagant cost of living and he determined to rectify this through teaching…teaching love. The very next day he went to work again, bringing his compatriots together behind the Carlson’s guesthouse. Graham was intensively strategic about this, determining that he must offer this service to those that needed and deserved it. Little Graham Fallin became the necro-guru and the world did'nt bat an eye.

Welcome
Welcome to Prose.! Publish your work, follow writers, and engage in community challenges.
By using Prose., you agree to our Terms of Service and Privacy Policy.
If you used Twitter or Facebook to get into your account and now can't get in, please contact us at support@theprose.com