Horror Films

The fact that - no matter how poor the plot is - I still have to watch from between my fingers, is neither here nor there.

Message

Get him to call me back?

Yes, yes, I know it’s not a Thuesday, but I’m on holiday from Saturday so thought I’d get some updates in before I skidaddle.

Reality Problems

Relationship Ender #92 is a variation of this traditionally known as the 'gaming widow'

Pigmented Daydreams

Summer in London

Bubble Beats

I was bored, and they were fun – if you want to use them for anything, please ask

Carlsberg

Probably.

Loading

A common computer problem, I feel

Blurb

He had seen a more than a dozen murders in his time, more than the magic number. It was said, within the homicide sector, that when you’d seen your twelfth murder you went from a rookie to a long-timer. Most detectives fell out of the line of work before their twelfth murder investigation, symptoms of post-traumatic stress evident in their bearings; dealing with monsters was soul sucking work. But not him, he had seen it through to the other side, but perhaps he had lost something irreplaceable along the way.

However, seeing death, no matter how many times, never prepares you to see it again. To see where a fully functional human being once was, but no longer is, to think about the events that led them to this place, the people who had loved them, the world they had experienced in full colour as one did now and to think about what they might or might not have done in the future. It was always this unknown factor that niggled into his consciousness, perhaps the world had lost a saint, a saviour? Or perhaps society had unwittingly avoided a terrible disaster, it would never be known – time reveals it’s secrets to no man.

It was these thoughts that occupied a part of his mind, one that was pushed down beyond the rational and logical part, one which he allowed to continue feeling these things because it connected him irrevocably to his soul and not to the cold mind that had done such a thing. It was these thoughts that he suppressed as he surveyed the scene of gore before him, the suspended body rotating slowly so he could see the glazed eyes and the scarlet flow that yet dripped to congeal on the stone floor of the basement.

His eyes ticked to the symbol and then away again. It was the same as the others; the Seer’s calling card.