:: Empty dead babies; searchlights on. ::

:: Friday, May 31, 2002 ::

Shiva dances by, the cosmic dance of destruction, disarticulated bones flailing still in sheaths of flesh. Waves of plauge exude from holes in space. Thirty-thousand poison-tipped swords fly around the planet of their own accord, vivisectioning the adoring public, who beat each other to death in the streets clamoring to be the first to submit to the climax-like release of trans-dimensional neurotoxin poisoning. Death himself stalks the streets, a five-hundred-foot conglomoration of tortured souls, cracking pavement with his footsteps, scything down skyscrapers. Necromantics orgasm spontaneously in his steely gaze, and grown men deficate on their own offspring on command. Fire boils down fromn heaven in a truly biblical way. Machinery goes insane, military jets colide with passenger airplanes, sendiung them out of controll into swimming pools filled with helpless children. Vibrators leap our of drawrs, shed ther plastic disguises, and eviscerate their former lovers.
:: OwenF 4:26 PM [+] ::
...

Water! Hundreds of thousands of gallons of water. Cascading through the cracks in the local reality matrix. Obviously, something had gone terribly wrong.
:: OwenF 4:15 PM [+] ::
...

The room was littered with pill bottles. The bed, in the corner, was little more than a bare matress, the sheets and blankets having been shredded and knotted in the wee morning hours of screaming midnight coke horrors. The escaped research subject was long gone, and the entire scene looked like something from the pages of a chaep horror comic. Gravy and strawberry jam decorated the walls, a ghastly living mandalla, oozing magots and larvae. The remnants of some insane junkie ritual littered the floor, 250 votive candles, all still burning. That could only mean one thing: The freak was still within a 72-hour radius of the squat. Unfortunately, with today's cheap air fares, that could place him anywhere in the known world.
:: OwenF 4:13 PM [+] ::
...

The writer bent slowly backwards, leaning the steel and pleather desk chair to its pivot limit. As the power of physics took hold, he fell into garavity's comforting arms. Landing with a crash, his skull fisured in several directions across the vault. Tiny explosive charges implanted along the bone's various stress lines went off, bathing the wall in blood, brain tissue and cerebro-spinal fluid. Maxillae and zygomatics, nasals and lacrimals, palatines, temporals and parietals seperated. The dirty card table holding the Remingbton 870 nickle-plated marine magnum typewriter infront of him collapsed, sending a cascaded of fatima butts and empty johnny walker bottles down the temple steps. In the vestry, the priest looked up from his consecration ritual with a look of divine upset. A thousand lepers thrw themselves down in the pews, and God himself descended into the mosterance and rapped a few line in an angelic tongue inaudible to the deficient ears of the massed suplicants.

:: OwenF 4:08 PM [+] ::
...