01/21/2023 07:50 PM  Come Home. (Drabble) "Come Home."   “On in five!”   The band before had been intense, their music was far better than he liked to admit out loud considering he spent most of their set forcing himself to not tap his goddamned foot along to the beat. They had soul, a touch of everything, from early Guns ‘n’ Roses to Extreme, and he hated the fact they were so good. They had come to win, not be runners up, not to lose. This wasn’t the case of “just have fun” that they usually had, they needed this. He needed this.    Losing Gareth was indescribable; it was a twisting, feverish pain in his gut anytime his name was mentioned. Not being able to speak to him before the gig was a heaviness that pushed down onto his chest, forcing hollow breaths through barbed lungs. All he wanted was to see him, all he wanted was his family back. A few different excuses had been thrown around (his mother was ill, he needed to study) but none of them knew the real reason and as far as Eddie was concerned they never would. It didn’t stop the knowing looks Max would give him from time to time, as if she just knew what he was thinking, all seeing and all knowing eyes scrutinising his every move. But he knew. It was his fault and the guilt was clawing at his bones, working their way outward until he was sure his blood would breach his flesh right there on stage.   “Next up, we have Corroded Coffin!”   Eddie had to strain his eyes against the brilliance of the lights; the thrum of the amps surrounding his senses into a relaxed lull, welcoming him home. Stepping up to the microphone, dark eyes scoured the crowd taking in the faces that were there to see them. Some were familiar, some not so much. Adrenaline built in his veins, a thrum of electricity forcing static into his fingertips until curious eyes settled onto one person. The only person that Eddie wanted to see. The crowd blurred around him, fading into his peripheries until all he could see was Gareth. It was like he radiated warmth, that smile stretched across his lips that made Eddie ache. All the anger inside of him started to dissipate, all of the building guilt tumbled down his spine to settle hidden at the base, until two dainty hands curled their fingers around Garth’s arm like vines. Daisy. He had brought her here, just for him to see.   His lips parted in desperation; all he wanted to do was shout at him, to welcome him home with a dark green banner but Gareth chose his own path; a path that Eddie couldn’t walk down without shredding the parts of himself he had spent years filling with gold. His heart rested against his ribs, caught in shackles that tightened against each heaving breath through parted lips. He wasn’t coming home, not yet and the little glimmer of hope settled itself on the tip of his tongue.    “This song is about buying the new Iron Maiden LP and opening it to realise it was actually Def Leppard.”   He saw Gareth grin.   0 Comments

01/09/2023 12:51 PM  Unsung songs. (Drabble) "Unsung songs." (Collab with pages turned.)   Things had been tense with the band since Gareth and Eddie had taken a night of drinking just one step too far. Exploring hands reached new places they had never dared aspire to go before but that night the map lines had burned brightly. It had been mutual, there had been something deep laced between them. Lips met in untold stories and unsung songs, they left traces of gold in their wake, dustings of hope and fear; loss and longing that were shadowed by guilt but made murky by alcohol. The surface of water rippled gently to the outskirts of their vision. He had thought they had been good enough friends to move past it, to discuss it without the fear of rejection. What they remember of it, anyway. He had thought he could trust him but disappointment was something Eddie was used to, it was a bitter guilt that clawed away at his insides until he was drowning.    He could remember the brush of tainted fingertips against his cheek, the quiver of breath that ghosted across his bottom lip as Gareth got closer. It was how he imagined an angel's song would play, the gentlest of touches against harp strings.  Eddie was too scared to move, as if even the flutter of eyelashes would stop what was about to happen. Long fingers had landed on Gareth’s knee in a gesture of companionship, his obnoxious laugh booming around the room mere minutes before Gareth had gathered the courage from within the pits of his stomach to shift closer to him. Their knees knocking as Gareth climbed onto his lap was a pleasant gesture, a taste of home Eddie hadn’t felt in a long time. Dark eyes met and Eddie swore that the butterflies in his stomach were so frantic that he might be sick, or maybe it was the alcohol. It didn’t stop him from feeling Gareth's body against his own, his scent eclipsing his senses until all Eddie could think, feel and taste was him. Just him. Gareth, his oldest and closest friend stepped over the undrawn line that they knew had always been there and in that moment, not one ounce of Eddie cared about the consequences. Then Gareth was kissing him and the world no longer existed.   The days that followed were encased in an echoing silence. Gareth’s phone rang out, he never seemed to be home when Eddie popped by. That same guilt wasn’t muddled by the alcohol this time, and the weight of what happened was breaking him from the inside out. The barbed wire he had cut away from his heart reformed, narrowing until each breath he took was laden with anguish. What had he done?    Two days passed before he saw Gareth again, those same butterflies took flight as lips parted to greet him, longing soaking through his pores to be met by dismissal. Gareth wouldn’t raise his head, there was a general greeting to the band as he sat at the drumkit, same as always, but there was nothing laced behind his words, no reassurance that would settle the boiling pain in Eddie’s stomach. The practice felt like years, dark irises always trying to steal glances toward the back of the room where Gareth sat, but nothing. Then he left without a word and Eddie knew right then and there, he knew how heartbreak felt.   It had been barely a week before Gareth announced his departure.    The grin that spread over his features when he sauntered through the door of the record store and approached Max would mask the agony that pulsed throughout. Heartbreak was a pain that felt like it would never disperse; the reminder coursing through his veins that he had lost someone again.   “Max!” there's an air of annoyance the second the redhead looks up. not that she doesn't love when eddie's around, but that's secretly. there's always been a vibe there that's reminded her of what billy never let himself be. "creep, unless you're coming in here to hand me a cigarette i'd turn right back around." of course she doesn't mean it, but picking up shifts at the record store had given her some way to connect back to music in a way that she'd lost after that trip back to california last fall to see her dad. the way he'd looked at her was burned into her mind, just a shadow of a terrible nightmare. he was happy with his wife and kids, he didn't need his bastard complicating things. "wait" her brow creased, "you're in here for a favor... aren't you?" living across from him and learning his body language was easy when your only other alternative at the park was to listen to your mother bitch and your stepdad demand.     “Bingo!” Forced happiness was easier than trying to explain the tinge of dejection that coated his words. "Gareth isn't up for playing the gig tonight,” A lie. Gareth wasn’t going to be playing with them again anytime soon, if ever. “How would you feel about being our drummer?" He glanced at her with a jovial expression, raising his hand upward with a point to the ceiling. "Playing one gig with us is another step out of this f***ing hick town that thinks they are always right when really, they know nothing. Playing one night with us, is another step of staying gone from f***ing Hawkins."   there was something in his words, something he wasn't saying. he and gareth had been glued at the hip. for there to be something wrong with that dynamic set off alarm bells. but she wasn't about to corner him about it now. judging from his temperament at the moment, it wasn't something that he wanted to talk about. that didn't mean that eventually she wasn't going to ask him. "I guess i could tell d to hang with the boys and i could bail you out of sounding like sh*t." she wasn't about to tell him that the thought of playing sounded like a stress reliever that judging from the look on his face they BOTH needed. "you're on."   0 Comments

12/19/2022 02:16 PM  Where I do not wish to venture. (Poetry) (This is based around Eddie accepting death in the eyes of being a hero. Promises of a better welcome linked to the theory of Kas.) "Where I do not wish to venture."   Blood is thicker than water, Though intricate veins of molten lava scorch blood as though it were nothing, So from the depths of where I do not wish to venture,  Everything becomes steam at the touch of fever flared intimacy masked behind a welcoming hand from lovers embrace, It comes with a fear that coats those same veins in shards of jagged ice,  Locked into place until sparks of electricity chip away barb by bard until lava melts the glaciers of longing, Though a touch from their hand can turn magma to stone, death is the sound of a mothers purr entombed behind glass, Whispered promises of a better welcome, but all it would take is my life.   0 Comments

12/19/2022 02:13 PM  Fractured gold. (Drabble) "Fractured gold."   The air was suffocating him, scratching down the sides of his throat and lining his lungs with fractured glass. Each breath in was laden, bearing down on his chest like stone walls that were caving in. While each breath out was an icy sting, rattling against his bones and abandoning all hope in a puff of smoke. It made him feel faint, lips cracked against the venomous fog surrounding him, eyes glazed over. It felt like years since he had entered the upside down, agonisingly paced, full of nightmares and foes he wasn’t able to defeat; but realistically it had probably been a few hours since he told Dustin to go, since he felt the air ripped from is lungs, grasping with bloodied fingertips for life and sanctuary.    He remembered being unconscious, darkness completely encasing him with the faintest brush of sound ghosting across his ears. An emptiness hung in the fog, it dusted his skin in a pale sheen, a nothingness that felt like all hope was lost. There was no light at the end of the tunnel. Screeches and croaks were drowned out by a deep voice, Thanatos offering a cordial hand to walk him to the other side. It felt like it came from inside him, filling up his lungs and veins with ambrosia, a welcoming warmth that sparked his senses full of a tranquil acceptance. Those same bloody fingers relaxed against the dirt beneath him, almost tasting the sensation coating scorched tips.   “It is time to rise.” The faint brush of a mother’s love, coaxing him gently from sleep.   He remembered a hunger building at the base of his stomach after he had finally managed to drag himself from the ground. Seeping crimson still coated his clothes, but the wounds were long healed. That same voice guided him through standing, filling his wounds with gold and his very soul with encouragement dipped in honey. He tried to follow the sound, but it surrounded him, closed in against his limbs the way a warm blanket would soothe a crying child. Eddie’s movements were shaky but he persevered.   Now, he sat in his usual chair, at his usual table, in his usual lunch hall. Dark glazed eyes surveyed his surroundings; the dust that speckled the air, some sparks of luminescence ghosting across the room but a few feet from him. The chairs that were usually filled with laughter, with a family found were now empty. A hollow pang of loneliness constricted his chest, gripping into his ribs to keep him from heaving deep breaths. He was too tired to think about getting up; exhaustion swaddled him in a soft cocoon, making his limbs and brain feel velvety and laden with the weight of his decision. Even the image of someone approaching him didn’t budge him from the spot, legs outstretched in front of him. The picture of ease and comfort.   “Eddie!”   His eyes snapped open, a frosting of gold glittering across dark irises.   “We need to get out!” 0 Comments

12/15/2022 05:27 PM  One day, this will be us. (Drabble) "One day this will be us."   God, it felt like electricity in his veins. The music blared around him, eardrums screaming in resistance but all his heart could feel was the wail of the guitar from the stage. Bodies surrounded him, limb to limb, heart to heart and f***, Eddie was elated. The grin that spread across his features spoke everything he would ever need to say. Rosy cheeks, arms raised, Eddie felt alive. He felt like he could take a bite out of the universe.   They stumbled out of the venue buzzed on something just that bit stronger than life, but he could’ve sworn that the serene vibrations were from nothing more than broken guitar strings and the drum stick he now held in his hand. He couldn’t believe he was able to catch it, everyone reaching for that one yearning grasp and it was his fingertips that seized it. This was the drug that people needed, if he could bottle that feeling, he would be rich.   “Do you think we could make it?”   Eddie was drawn out of his thoughts by the words, Gareth had the same dazed expression on his face. He still had to speak loudly, though the welcomed ringing settled beneath the noise as more and more people spilled out of the venue.    “I think we could make it. Look at us, have you heard us?” “You really think so?” “I know so. We just gotta keep working. We gotta raise another finger to those corporate sh*tstains that think they can control us. They can’t control us.”   He took a step forward, converse pressing into a step to raise himself higher than his friends. Arms stretched out to either side, Eddie tipped his head back, frizzing ends catching against the brick wall behind him,”One day, this will be us boys. This is where we’ll play, right here!” Long digits slapped into the brick wall, his grin almost painful against the skin of his cheeks,”We’ll get out of this place.” 0 Comments

07/28/2022 07:08 PM  Unfinished business. (Drabble) "Unfinished business." Completely encased in darkness, all he felt was a cold, numbing wind across the back of his neck. Eddie could remember pain, everything had sparked with agony for what felt like hours before it dissipated into thin air; as if it had never happened in the first place. There had been sharp piercing pains along his sides, his vision had been hazy, dusted with glinting red in a way he knew could never have been a good sign. He had tasted the metallic tang of blood, gurgling across his taste buds to settle into the back of his throat. Drowning; he had been drowning while Dustin’s voice had echoed right into his very soul.  The pleas spilling from his lips had kept Eddie there longer than he was meant to. Those gentle whispering voices flooded through his ears like waves of sun kissed honey, warm and welcoming, like the gates of Olympus were opening. But still, Dustin’s voice grew louder, whispers of heroes and peace were flushed away but only long enough for Eddie to tell Dustin he loved him; to beg him, to take care of those little sheep. So when the darkness consumed him, Eddie finally went willingly.  He chose peace, he chose the heroes welcome and the nectar of the gods; he chose to be selfish and take the easy path. The ground felt like warm sand welcoming him home, sun brushing the apples of his cheeks like the caress of a new mother, but when he took one more step forward there was a rushing of wind. Barely able to find balance, he stumbled back, begging with all his might to stay, begging to not return to the pain and agony he had once felt but Dustin’s soul willed him home. The heat dispersed, the agony was gone, but Eddie felt nothing. For what felt like a lifetime, there was nothing. Entombed in his own mind, all Eddie heard was the faintest of whispers, of his name spilling past Dustin’s lips with such agony and he knew something wasn’t right.  It felt like hands grappling onto every fraction of bone beneath his skin, dragging him backwards faster than he had been able to run away. Still Eddie pleaded, he begged with anyone that might be able to hear him to not make him go back. But he knew this was a choice out with his own grasp, there was unfinished business, there were lost little sheep that needed him. Dustin needed him, Mike, Steve, Nancy. Was he that willing to be selfish, to walk away from the people who had been there for him when he had no other alley to turn down. They had never questioned his morals, his actions, without knowing him; they had believed him to be good. So finally, Eddie let go. Gasping in a resuscitative breath, frozen fingertips grasped at the grass beneath him, the sensation flooding his senses in a way he didn’t think he’d ever feel again. There was heat on his face, crackling beneath his skin right to the tips of his ears and when Eddie finally blinked his dark eyes open, he realised where he was. He was back. There was breath in his lungs, and he was pretty certain he was wiggling his toes. But he had died, how was he back? All he could remember was Dustin, the pain that came with it. He remembered making the choice to leave but that all felt like a distant memory. A sense of deja vu that rattled around the back of his head. All he knew was he needed to find Dustin, he needed to tell him he was here.  His feet carried him faster than his mind could process what he was doing. He had woken at skull rock, so the path to the school was familiar, it was easy. It was daylight, so Eddie had to guess at what time of day it was. His watch was still broken, the whole resurrection thing couldn’t have taken a second to fix that, could it?  Though it hadn’t been long since he returned, there was still the gentle scrape of the things he had done eating away at the corners of his mind, the gnawing that the people of Hawkin’s would still see him as a murderer. Was he still a wanted man?  When he finally found himself at the high school, the words that graced his ears were not what he thought he would encounter.  “--And you set him up for the slaughter?!” It took him a beat to realise who was speaking, to comprehend the venom in her tone, the anger that caused her to shout. Eddie’s heart hammered against his chest until finally he stepped around the corner and Nancy came into view, along with the retreating backs of the basketball team. He was still nervous, uneasy in his new found presence, and lack of knowledge so when he spoke his voice was low, gravelly, but at least it still sounded like him. “I didn’t know you cared so much, Wheeler.” 0 Comments

07/15/2022 09:01 PM  Poetry "A heroes welcome."   Everything tasted like grit between my teeth, swallowing me from the inside out Darkness encased me like castle walls, too colossal to climb and too immeasurable to burrow Every part of me felt leaden with guilt, shame bearing down on my chest So what was left?  A vibrant white light twinkled against the darkness, brushing my peripheries with a calmness I longed to reach out and touch, soothing voices whispering for me to follow A heroes welcome, peace and glory for a once banished soul But in the centre, blood red burned the backs of my eyelids, muffled pleas roaring like tidal waves Tears stained my cheeks, my own and Dustin’s melded together to provide something much stronger than magic  There was pain, coursing through my insides and seeping out of my pores in agonising spurts of blood Then it went quiet, the white enveloping the pain like a mother’s soft embrace that I once knew I didn’t run this time, right?   (This is based around Eddie accepting death in the eyes of being a hero. Promises of a better welcome linked to the theory of Kas.) "Where I do not wish to venture."   Blood is thicker than water, Though intricate veins of molten lava scorch blood as though it were nothing, So from the depths of where I do not wish to venture,  Everything becomes steam at the touch of fever flared intimacy masked behind a welcoming hand from lovers embrace, It comes with a fear that coats those same veins in shards of jagged ice,  Locked into place until sparks of electricity chip away barb by bard until lava melts the glaciers of longing, Though a touch from their hand can turn magma to stone, death is the sound of a mothers purr entombed behind glass, Whispered promises of a better welcome, but all it would take is my life.   1 Comments

07/15/2022 09:01 PM  Poetry main post. Poetry: A heroes welcome. 0 Comments

06/30/2022 02:07 PM  A ten second head start. (Part two) "A ten second head start." (Part two)   Fear washed through him, dark wide eyes glanced from one exit to the other and it was when Dean hit seven that he finally bolted, the sack of basketballs he had been holding forgotten on the floor. Eddie’s feet took him as fast as they could, but he knew he wasn’t quick enough to outrun Dean, so he went for another strategy. Straight into the locker room.     “One!” There was an undeniable fury twisted into his words and god, Eddie thought he would actually piss himself right then and there.     By the time the locker room door hammered against the brick wall, frantic fingers were finding the lock on the bathroom stall. Every movement was hurried, desperate even and if anything, it actually made Eddie slower and he was pretty sure that it would just get Dean even more wound up. It was like a predator stalking his grey, revelling in the hunt before he stuck him down.     “Come out, come out wherever you are, Munson!” Dean seethed, fist rattling against each and every locker he walked past. His movements were slow, precise.   The sound shot through Eddie, forcing his knees to buckle just enough that he even stepped up onto the toilet in a hopeless attempt to hide where he was. Eddie knew it was futile, he knew he would be found and the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes would just make him an easier target.   “Munson!”  Shoulders raised, he sank down into a crouch on the toilet, shifting only enough to stop his feet from slipping down into the water. Fear completely encased him, like a tomb of his own making. He just wished he would have remembered to gut himself before he did it, it might have stopped the yelp that gurgled out of his throat when Dean’s fist met the bathroom stall door.  “Come out Munson! You can’t hide in there forever you f***ing queer!”   A foot met the wood now, hard enough to rattle it right down to the hinges.  “Just leave me alone!”   He begged and he begged and he begged. Cradled hands raised to tear across his shaved head, eyes locked tight enough to block out even the blinding lights of the locker room.  “You’re f***ing dead! You hear me?! F***ing dead!” The words were vociferous, accompanied by an insistent kick to the door.     One more kick found the door with an exasperated grunt on the other side and he knew Dean was trying to take the door down. He hoped to whatever f***ing higher up being that was listening that the hinges would hold. They were his gates of Gondor; the only thing stopping him from losing the battle without reinforcements that weren’t coming.    When the rattling stopped abruptly, Eddie was honestly surprised the hinges were still intact from the way Dean had been battering into it. He hadn’t heard the reprieve of footsteps, so locked onto his own survival that had no idea if the football start was still outside the door; if he was waiting for him to come out, ready to pounce. So, he waited. He wasn’t sure for how long, but it was enough time that he finally heard the locker room door thump against the brick wall as it had when Dean first entered. Eddie didn’t move. He didn’t dare even move a muscle, straining to hear any noises within the cage he was trapped. A footstep, a sweep of material; but there was nothing. There was complete silence other than Eddie’s own heavy breath and the faint flicker of the lightbulbs above him. He was alone. Dean had finally given up.     0 Comments

06/29/2022 01:25 PM  A ten second head start, part one. (Drabble) "A ten second head start." (Part one) Long before Eddie had been labelled a “freak”, he’d be quiet, gentle even. In his first year of high school, he’d kept to himself; just wanting to play D&D, listen to good music and get through the hell that was high school in small town Indiana. Settling at the back of the bleachers at each pep rally, Eddie had a small group of friends. None of them really stood out against the backdrop, finding it easier to just be invisible than draw attention to themselves and he was happy. He could ignore the things around him, ignore the fact his mother had left and the fact his father came home less and less.     The first day he and his friends decided to wear their Hellfire Club tops was the first day they didn’t quite blend into the background enough for the jocks. Sneers, nasty comments and sometimes food were thrown their way. “Fag” and “sissy” were particular favourites from Dean, the football captain and all-round king of Hawkins high. It was before Jason Carver, before he’d found his jock squad to wreak havoc with; but this was high school, and what was high school without bullies? God f***ing forbid someone got through it without some sort of emotion damage.     Then, one by one, his group fell apart. Each one stopped coming to Hellfire, preferring still to blend into the background than face the wrath of tyrannical popular morons that had decided D&D was devil worship. A game, a f***ing game. Each day got lonelier and the comments, the insults progressed to physical pursuits. It started with a leg stuck out here or there, tripping him in the lunch hall, then it progressed to being cornered in the locker room by a bunch of the football team so that they could take turns sending one punch after another into his stomach. Teachers either didn’t notice, or they turned a blind eye and his parents obviously weren’t home to see what was happening to him so it just continued. Eddie didn’t fight back, what was the point? He just had to live it out, he just had to wait until Dean and his goons left and he would be free.     It was all well and good for Eddie to keep in his head that it was only a year. One year. But it didn’t feel like one year the night he got kept late after school to help clear up the gymnasium. One too many forged notes from his “mother” excusing him from P.E. There were a variety of different reasons for each absence, but eventually they became stupid. A particular one regarding smallpox led his teacher to force some kind of punishment onto him and clean up duty was the best she could do.     “Hey, fag!” Dean’s voice rang out around the gymnasium so loud that Eddie froze on the spot, the basketball in his hand dropping to the polished floor with a deafening thud before it stuttered away from him.  “Hey, I’m talking to you!”  Eddie was terrified, there was no one around, just him and Dean. He didn’t raise his head for what felt like hours but when he finally did, he realised Dean had been walking toward him at a leisurely pace.   “Look, I don’t want any trouble. Please, I just want to do this and go home,” Eddie barely whispered. It was mousey, nothing like what he became.   “Do I look like I care what you think?”  “Dean, please..”  Eddie took two steps back, his sneakers squeaking on the wooden floor each time and god he wished they hadn’t; as if the noise would agitate Dean more. He could tell by the look in his eyes he was there for a fight. Something had happened, if anything he looked more riled up than usual and the cuffs of his letterman jacket were scuffed as if he had already had a brawl.  “I’ll give you a ten second head start. Ten..”   To be continued.. 0 Comments

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