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Death is an Art


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Spring Taylor

Spring’s gaze watched as the clock ticked and moved each hand in a single flicker. For once the desk in front of her was tidy except for a stack of papers, and a half-polished beer bottle. Thin digits snake around the neck of the bottle bringing it to her lips. This was it. There was no hope to escape this. She had been sitting in the exact same spot for a plethora of minutes, clicking the top off the pen only to recap it a mini second later. She leans forward and starts to write against the paper. Joe had better stick to his words of executing her will. The pleb had to be useful for something, other than being one of the only human Summers left.

She gulps in a breath of air feeling her hand shake before the pen touches against the paper. All she wanted to do was flip the table and scream until everything around her died. But this was all inevitable. Death was inevitable, and she knew this well. Clearing her throat she puts down her drink and harshly holds down her own wrist to the paper. Write it out. Write it now.

Last Will & Testament of Spring Weed Summers.

No, that looked weird to her even now. Quickly she scribbles out the words.

Last Will & Testament of Spring Weed Taylor.

No, that also was problematic considering the recent events. She huffs and scribbles it again.

Last Will & Testament of Spring Weed.

Bloody Wankers…the lot of them.
September 19, 2018 11:21 am

Spring Taylor

Twelve hours earlier

There were so many bodies she had lost track. Licking her lips she whispered what the **** at least fifteen times. Surprisingly her ire hadn’t done something to this magnitude. One being still lived and it was sat down in a diner chair drumming its elongated nails on the table top. A half ate cherry pie in front of it, at least she thought it was cherry.

She was plenty content to nope right out of there muttering about folks that had lost the plot. That is until her body froze mid motion of her leave. The voice didn’t belong to one person, instead it was a glorious multitude tone ranging from high to low.

“Spring Weed Summers.”

“Oi who the **** are you”

“Death is a part of life you see…”

“Very ****ing funny you blimey toad trunk. Let me the **** out of here.”

“All you Summers were robbed of life, and thus death.. but that changes today.”

Spring had been causing her form of terror on the realm with the emblem of Death. But the more she heard the voices speak, she realized… they were all familiar to her. People she had known that were once alive and were now dead. The stubborn vampires still fought against what she could only concur was Death itself.

“I SAID” She started to shriek but even as her lips spat the venom to the figure…no sound had came from them. The thing in front of her had started to expand into a giant blob, and it terrified her.  Her body paralyzed and her voice nonexistent. This brought her back to the brothers, and perhaps..she wasn't free.

"Fourty eight hours to get your affairs in order, Spring Weed. You best not mention our little chat. For insurance.. I'll keep that voice of yours. No one will miss it."

Pfft some ****ing chat.

September 20, 2018 11:30 pm

Spring Taylor

01 - Twig Summers

Ever since the encounter with Death, she had been seeing things. Bits of her nostalgic past that blossomed into unorthodox life. The first of these people was the eldest Summers but as the child she remembered him being her seventh year. He still smoked a cig, but they all did at that age.  Something transparent leapt off the front of her desk over the piles of ranting testaments that she wouldn’t be using. It was her.

“I told you I’d come back Spring. Took me awhile.” The boy said with a cheeky grin as he picked her transparent aura up and swung it around. Just as he would do when they were younger. She had to concentrate. She had to figure out what the **** to do. Canines pressed and tore into her inner lip as she casually glanced to the phone near her briefcase of papers. No she couldn’t burden Gray about this. She had decided that much already. She couldn’t burden anyone else, because death was coming in less than two days.

A soundless screech emits from her lips as the Twig entity hopped onto her desk. “Mum won’t sell you Spring. She’ll keep you for the unicorns.” There’s a devilish grin to this terrorist as for once in her shady life… she saw those damn unicorns in the corner of the Order Compound.

Was she ****ing tripping?


I’m not sure if your rubbish arse became a demon. But I Spring Weed Summers, leave you ****e. Because that’s what you left all of us when you didn’t come back for us. Instead you took it upon yourself to try to kill us. You fruitnut cakehead. I hope you’re burning alive in whatever acid hellhole you ended up in. I could have been normal. I could have actually ****ing lived a life.


Baleful blues looked up from the paper in front of her and the Twig she thought she had seen had vanished. Her only company was the ticking in her skull.

September 20, 2018 11:43 pm

Spring Taylor

Eleven Hours Earlier

“There’s a girl in your office sir. She handed me a note on her way in, something about your sister.” Joe listened to his secretary and paused midstep. Which sister? That’s always the question. Summer was fun, Autumn wasn’t the worse, and then there was.. bloody Spring. All the other sisters weren't as prominent and rarely visited. He wasn’t worried since his secretary hadn’t mentioned the girl swinging punches or slinging profanity around like it was ‘hello’. One hand runs through his red stubby hair, while his steps carried him into his office locking the doors behind him when he crossed the threshold. There was the last person he expected, and she wasn’t even sitting in his chair. This girl in the room with him wasn’t a Spring Summers he had seen in years.

He cleared his throat and lowered himself to the ground beside her. “Spring Weed. You normally don’t come for house calls. Everything alright, peanut?”

A partial wet piece of paper is shoved toward him and he arched a brow towards her. “Quiet game, eh? I..don’t remember us having ever partaken in that.” He says with a light chuckle,before he reached for the small nugget of paper.

‘You’re a pleb.’

Joe rolled his eyes. He had thought that by now she would have some other snarky comment. But he sighs and combs a finger through her hair. It’s the touch that sends off warning bells. His siblings were cold compared to him, but Spring almost caused him pain in his fingertips to touch. What confused him more was the silence on her end. Spring was never silent. Another paper gets shoved his way.


He contemplated calling his twin because none of this scenario made any sense to him. Not to mention he didn’t want to become Spring’s dinner, having been the other one to remain human from Twig. He recalls what he has heard in the news of their world, and shrugs his shoulders. “You call yourself Death now? I don’t.. Just out with it Spring. Talk.”

One last scribble and pass of the note, and he tilts his head to stare at the paper.


“Spring....” The words he was going to say to her. She’s already ****ing dead, what kind of game was this?  Those words didn’t leave him as he watched Spring crumble down onto the ground in a fit of silent hysteria. He touches her shoulder and gives it a slow rub. Then he starts to carefully get out his cell phone from his back pocket.

September 21, 2018 12:10 am

Spring Taylor

02- Blaize Summers

It frenzied in her mind, a certain memory of her eldest brother. The first of them to meet the contract that their parents had been inclined to start. The pictures in slices, and next to this blimey black monstrous beast .... She saw what looked like the eldest twins shifting from a boy to a man. Spring shook her head as a slow smile spread across her lips. No matter how much she scowled and shrieked, Blaize always knew a creative ways to calm her. Death didn't give her enough time to dwell on the memories of him murdering her admirers and using their blood for paintings. Death was a goddamn *******.


You're a goddamn freak.'re my brother. I missed you while you were out on business, though I'd often pretend I didnt care. I did. The sapling did too. I hope you kept the dinosaur bandaids. I guess now I'l be the one stalking you from.. wherever the **** you go when you die. I, Spring Weed, leave you this billboard I tore apart that has your face on it. Because it's your face.. and you can creep on someone else. Never stop painting, you have a talent. Maybe use my blood to paint illegitimate word here. I wish you were here more, but we both know I would have told you to **** off. 


September 25, 2018 02:33 am

Joe Summers

Just as he was about to grab the phone, he should have remembered that Spring was still a goddamn emotional vampire. An oxymoron if you asked him, but no one ever bothered. She had reached around and slapped the phone out of his hand in her fit of hysteria. Joe sighed and pulled her into his arms, rocking her back and forth.  “Breathe. Do anything, but don’t punch me in the ******.”   None of them were very parental, even the normal Summers wasn’t.

After several minutes she finally seemed to be exhausted of feeling. Joe remembers something as his arms are around her. “I know what will make you feel better.” He wasn’t expecting her to turn around and punch him square in the jaw. Then again he shouldn’t be surprised. This was after all Spring he was trying to comfort. While he blinks and rubs his jaw he watches her scribble out a ‘cheers’.

“What do you want from me Spring? What is it?” The girl stared at him starting to scribble on the paper before she held it up to him. Joe chewed his inner cheek unsure if he could complete the task she gave him. The girl disconnects from his form enough for him to stand and walk over to his work desk. There’s a way around Spring’s hardness, and that thing was dinosaurs. He kept one in his desk drawer, just in the unfortunate case she came into his office feeling peckish. Joe Summers wanted to remain human as long as possible.

He grabs the stuffed T-rex toy stepping over to the girl. Spring latches onto it for dear life, already starting to cry into the toy. “Alright kiddo. Moscow in 1.5 days. But Spring… what..what the bloody hell is a Douchlav lab?” Joe scrnches his face and taps her shoulder as she starts to write it down. "You know what, that's alright. Just mark it on a map."

September 25, 2018 08:57 pm

Spring Taylor

03- Joesph Summers


"You're a ****ing pleb, Joe. That's why mum and dad didn't name you Snookie Butt." Spring screamed at her older brother. The teenage boy stared down at her with a blank expression. "I'm pretty sure..." He started to say patiently before she cut him off. "NO ONE ****ING ASKED YOU JOE" Joe Summers was the joke of the Summers line, because he was the only one that grew up to become... the average one. His presence makes her bitter, and she has to have a whole inner jury conviction not to eat him whenener she sees him. If one were to ask Spring why she chose the average pleb to do this certain job... she would have said there was no one else. Spring wiggled in the chair and placed the T-rex in the desk drawer. No longer needed the comfort of a toy to face her past, present, and timed future. 



I, Spring Weed, leave you as the executor of my estate. I leave you this briefcase of ****ing letters to deliver and maybe I'll be lucky enough that one of them kills you. Do you think being a regular person makes you better than us? It doesn't. Delivering these letters for me, would. I swear to ****ing Xenoclus I will come back and rip your face off with some cosmic alien ****ward diabolic **** if you just sit on your ass.

You can have Chewy back.


September 25, 2018 09:08 pm

Spring Taylor

03- Winter Summers

Memories were her ultimate distraction, the true devils at the end of a person’s life. If she were normal, maybe they would have escaped out of her mind. They still haunted her, whirling through her mind and making it harder to concentrate on the next letter. Winter Summers. The first of the seasons, the most optimistic one. The season she killed with her bare hands. Spring stares at the blank page and instantly becomes frustrated with the words that won’t come to the surface… No all she has is memories.


Spring groaned and instantly face palmed. Her free hand slid down her face to reveal her grump. "I don't want to go f-cking shopping, Winter." The words hissed out like steam from a tea kettle. It was too late for her objection, and instead she opted to go ragdoll in his arms. "Someone f-cking kill me."

If there was a f-cking god, please let her get hit by a bicyclist. Let her eardrums suddenly rip, so she could have peace and quiet. The soles of her shoes dragged on the pavement, as she glared up to her older brother with disdain. One foot up and stomped into the pavement, and she repeated this after every word. "Shut. The. F-ck. Up. Winter. I DON'T WANT TO ****ING GO! SHUT.UP.JUST SHUT THE BLOODY F-CK UP." Spring shrieked angrily, and kicked her legs into the air. Really, she looked like one of those kids in the market that you want to pop.

Almost as quickly as the tantrum started, her lips stayed pressed into a firm line of forced submission. She murmured through gritted teeth candied with hostility. "Will you get me a new copy of Jurassic Park, pansya-s?"

All the Jurassic Parks? She stood straight up, and hooked her arm more firmly with her brother. A different skip to her steps. She would gladly endure torture if it would benefit her later. "If you're f-cking lying. I'm going to kick you fangs in. Got it?"

Spring started to hum along with Winter. Winter didn't need to know that Spring only wanted to watch the original Jurassic Park for the T-Rex scene. That f-cking arse on the loo had it coming the whole f-cking time. Chomp. Chomp. Mother f-cker.

The smile she has on her lips after that one memory agonizes her. She finally starts to write the name down, but then another memory turns her off kilter.

The ice clanged inside the glass, as she held it against her forehead. She leaned against the monstrous sapling she created. Trying to calm her overzealous nerves. Her chin covered with the blood stains of her last mirror. Her hair disheveled and seemingly stuck in a chaotic massive curl congregation on the right side of her head. Then Winter barged in, and she groaned loudly at the intrusion.

"F-ck Winter. DO you have to be so fcking loud?" She hissed and rolled the chill glass across her forehead. "Because I'm obviously the normal fcking one. Blaize is rarely fcking here. Why the f-ck is it such a bad f-cking idea Winter?" Her voice started to rise, as she tossed the chilled glass away from her to crash against the closed door. The volume her voice typically carried hindered in a way, and came out raspy as if she suffered a sore throat.

"No. I don't want cookies!" She huffed and folded her arms, still using the sapling to lean her form against. After her outburst, she sighed in brief defeat. "Fine I'll take a bullsh-t f-cking cookie. Oi. Maybe you should have fcking gone for it."

Spring was fit to be tied. When he slammed the door, she quick limped to it. Opening it a slither so she could holler after him. "Oi! Leave like the rest of them fcking arsehole. I hope your sh-tty apartment is covered with f-cking memos!" She shrieked down the hallway, and slammed the door. She decided to deadbolt lock it, and slumped in that very spot for a time. They always chose Autumn.


Spring crossed out his name vindictively almost carving the pen into the desk itself. He’s one of the ones that not only left… he left repeatedly. Her own blunt words cycle around her mind. 

"You left Mercy. You left me, Winter. You chose the f-cking enemy. You can't pretend that isn't leaving me." She answered bluntly to her own point.

Spring growls and starts to write the name again on the paper.


All the animosity she has held onto makes her hand tremble as she tries to get out the words to the eldest season. A wayward ebony curl sways in front of her face, and even it makes her angry. She slams the front of her palm on the table, ready to throw a full-fledged tantrum around her. No one was there to see her do it anyway.  

04 - Douchlav

Spring breathes easy as she grabs another piece of blank paper trying to sort through her chaotically aligned mind.  Her phone goes off and she taps a quick message out. ‘Douches diapers’. Joe would understand as soon as he read the next letter.


Please choke on a ****ing pole you stupid gormless wanker ****wad. I, Spring Weed, leave you at the time of my ****ing exit a box of ****ing douches. Maybe you can grow some ****ing balls now and kill your skidmark family stealing parachute **** of a wife. Enclosed are the ****ing douches and a ****ing diaper you can breathe your ****ty ****ing breath into.

Spring Taylor.

05- Winter Summers

Inhaling in a deep breath, she returned to the letter she had started to write her brother. Feeling her stomach flutter, but she persisted.


I wish you would have chosen me. I wish that you didn’t make me kill you. Do you know what that’s like Winter? First, you choose the enemy. Then you make me ****ing kill you. You didn’t even give me a choice. Do you know who else didn’t give me a choice? The brothers. Was I happy you came back? I was surprised. Then I remembered not to get attached, because you would just leave again. I would never ****ing admit it, but I would look up to you there for awhile. Before I realized if it’s not covered in glitter or Autumn you don’t really care. I hope you go on shopping trips until Death comes for you too.

I, Spring Weed, leave you these glitter pumps & whatever this ****ing thing is. It's pink and curvy..and I don't ****ing know. Because I think you’ll like them. Maybe someday, you’ll find the interest to kick someone’s arse with them.  I needed you Winter, and when I needed you… weren’t there. You're not here.  My curse is no matter what happens, you're my brother and I love you. But even as I write this... this is all ****ed up.I hope it was all worth it. The cure.. that is.


After she writes the words, she feels herself grow callous. This didn't feel harmonizing to her, it distressed her. The worst part was, she wasn't even near her sapling.

September 28, 2018 02:06 pm

Spring Taylor

06- Summer Summers

Summer was the eldest female season, and she never failed to remind Spring of their parents. Mostly because of her careless approach to things, and the face that she was almost always high. Spring Weed loved her eldest sister though, even though she rarely vocalized such a thing. Summer was the first season to die, and as she stared down to the blank parchment in front of her.. She remembered what it was like to see her sister after her rebirth.   The time that left Spring Weed speechless, one of the handful of times.   

Spring squinted in the direction of Summer. Was she on some kind of new sh-t these days? Wait, Summer was dead! "Me?! What the f-ck happened to you! I mean.. blimey did someone knock me the f-ck out? Are you.." Unable to stop she propelled forward in an attempt to bop Summer as gently as Spring did such actions. She just had to know she wasn't the delusional b-tch, this time.

Blinking a few times, Summer stated plainly, "Spring I have no idea if you've been knocked out. Am I....? I don't know the answer to that question either, but guess what! I DIED!" She nearly gushed with excitement, rubbing her head where she was bopped. "And I went to Hell, but Lucifer was soooo rude! Oh my different-god, he was so mean, Spring!" Her voice pitched upward in a whine. "So then I got sent to heaven. It's so lame up there. Like, so so boring. But I got these. Watch." Summer released her wings, white tinted with hot pink. Her eyes lit up like Vegas, like she'd never seen them before. "Aren't they amazing? I picked the color myself. Albert said no other angel has pink wings. Told you- F*ckin' boring."  

Spring clasped her hands together, and brought her fingers to rest on the tip of her nose. She tried to absorb what Summer was telling her, and let out a guttural rage induced grunt. "Right." Someone had to have f-cking slipped her some high ranked sh-t in her drink. She cleared her throat and her eyes reopened almost popping out of their sockets.   


Everything was drastically trying to register in her infuriated brain. "What the f-cking **** are those? You died but.. you got those?" She asked her own dialect caught between a shrieking lemur and herself trying to keep a level of cool. Jagged breaths that ended on a note of a hissing baptized cat. "Oi. Which f-cking c-cks did this to you? I'm going to shove my fangs so hard into their f-cking face."    

Hmmm. Spring didn't look nearly as excited as Summer felt about her super cute wings. What was with her? Tilting her head to the side, her eyes widened with surprised curiosity. "Yea, I died. Everyone gets these." With a gasp and cluck of her tongue, Summer glanced nervously upward and chastised Spring in a hushed, shocked voice. "Spring! You can't shove your fangs in their faces. She doesn't mean it!" Summer yelled the last part at the sky. A lone pigeon flapped its wings in response, uncaring. Smiling sweetly, the dim blonde tried her best to reassure the woman in front of her, clearly angry as a wet cat. "I'm fiiiine. I like it. It's fun. My wings smell like cotton candy and I can really be a vegan now. Not like earlier." Summer's nose wrinkled in distaste, recalling her feeble attempts to feed on only vegetarian or vegan people. It was a paradox that was obvious even to the intellectually challenged like Summer. Gasping again, Summer squealed, "You're jealous, aren't you! That's it, I just know it. You wish you were an angel too. Imagine that, Spring Weed is actually jealous of ME!!" Her voice raised in octaves out of excitement as she spoke.  

The memory had her shaking her head and clawing at her own forehead. Would she get wings? What really happened when death came? What was after all this? She took in a deep breath and started to write.  


You’ve always had very insightful ways into life, but.. sometimes I think you’re too much like mum. I wish we could have made you back to one of us, but none of that matters. You keep your pink ****ing.. fairy angel wings, and I don’t get to keep a sodding thing. I wish I hadn’t pushed you away, but I wish that like the others you hadn’t befriended the enemy. I’m not sure if you finished smoking, so I, Spring Weed, leave you my sapling for care. You’re one of the only ****ers that wouldn’t kill it. Keep swinging on those poles or whatever you do these days.. You give **** advice for catching a jew, but don’t worry I’m passing the information to someone else.. maybe it will work for them. Whatever you do in life Summer, or after life, or whatever ****ing life you’re living don’t cover yourself in ****ing lard.   


Spring pauses to go through her phone to find the directions her sister had given her. There’s only one person that needed these instructions now. The ****ing jew robber. The girl sets her sister’s letter in the case and takes out the parchment. She taps the pen against the paper letting out a sigh of defeat before she pens the rest.  

07- Jasper Thompson


You jew stealing son of a ***** trash can. By the time you fcking get this, I don’t really ****ing know what would have transpired. I only ****ing hope that you make that wanker’s ‘soon’ message last longer than a few days. I got some advice from my sister on how to catch a jew, and so I’m ****ing passing it to you. I expect you take care of Gray, to make certain he is happy, to make him understand that.. he couldn’t fix this. No one could. The instructions are as ****ing follows:     

“You simply promise him or her a romantic, all inclusive getaway to a Kibbutz, where everyone keeps Kosher and Shabbat is served with regularity. Or like, just bake a loaf of Challah. No sane person can resist fresh baked Challah. “ My sister Summer is a ****ing peach, but her ****ing wings are blinding. If you hurt my jew. I will figure out a way to ****ing get you. I don’t know what the **** happens after death, but I will make you choke on your sodding chav tongue, you closet stealing ******* ****er.  


September 30, 2018 07:14 pm

Spring Taylor

08- Autumn Summers

Spring ran her hands through her hair, and pulled out one of her ciggies lighting it. She knew the name she had gotten to, and this one hurt her the most.  She pushes herself from the desk and stands up to stare at the ceiling. One long drag and she exhales the smog. Autumn and her were connected by their masters. The ones that had ultimately held their contracts in the beginning.  Every scratch or

fatal injury Spring would feel through her entire body, until Gray had fixed it. Gray and Autumn..she sighs and keeps herself from going full ham on the desk in front of her.   It’s a cue for certain memories to populate and she can hear them echo inside her scalp.  

You, of all people, know exactly how rare any sort of good feelings are for both of us. So where the hell do you get off sneering a moment of my happiness off? Is it because Gray gave it to me, and not you? News flash, it isn’t always all about Spring. I LIKE GRAY AND THERE IS NOT A GODDAMN F*CKING THING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT. If you have a problem with it, there’s the door.”     

For a second she’s back in that room going toe to toe with Autumn.    

 "News f-cking flash. If you're banging my f-cking neighbour and also a f-cking wanker. It involves me. You know what.." Spring takes a few deep breaths and makes a move towards the door. Allowing one final cutting eye to her sister.     

"You're going to end up fcked up just like they are. You may f-cking end up with Gray, but do you still blow, Autumn? Don't bother sending me a f-cking card when you start seeing those invisible f-cking unicorns like mum and dad. Autumn Leaf, it's neither of our seasons. You're f-cking dead to me." Spring's voice icy and apathetic, she makes a final motion to where Gray was standing. "I guess you always make the right f-cking choices. Cheers."  

She should have left things alone from there. Gray had run off to a ****ing closet, why didn’t she? It’s one continuous issue Spring speaks of. The people in her inner circle and their choices. Oddly enough at the time Gray was Autumn’s choice over her, that would in turn change to Lucius being chosen over her. The epilogue of the tale is Spring choosing Gray over everything, finally vocalizing her feelings. Though it was the inappropriate time to do so. Spring wanted to ask him when he thought the appropriate time was? When they were both married? When he was ****ing her sister? When he was apparently ****ing Jasper? It was the latter of course, only because she was being her blunt self. Allowing the last wall to crumble under pressure.   

Being here in this room while Death’s clock ticked is all he fault. She wants to scream, she wants to beat the living piss out of anything in her way. Spring successfully derails herself, putting the cig out on the parchment of paper. It’s not easy to write someone that was once bound to your soul. Someone that felt every inhumane thing done to her person. Every single thing that twisted her into this angry entity that she was. The torture, the maddening torture of when she had to count the sways of the burnt lamp above her. In Spring Weed’s mind, this all could have been prevented. They could have warned her what her parents did, but alas she succumbed to the same contract. Her mind not allowing her to skid away as she watched the images in her mind like a movie forced on the screen. The brothers didn’t die easily enough, but they did go under. The girls still weren’t free from the bond. She tried her damnest to make sure every pain she felt in her chest she projected onto her own body to make the dull pain hit Autumn.    Things became at the fruition of their fight when her sister tried to obtain Doctor Orlav for the cure. Her sister without her consent, and knowing of the past experiments afflicted on them …Yet, she went there with open arms. She went there to kill them. Gray helped sort it out, but if Spring was honest with herself… This was her honesty hour after all. She never forgave Autumn. Because the only thing in life wanted was choice.  

To be someone’s choice, and to have her own freedom of choice. Death had to have known this when it sought her out instead of her other siblings. Spring sits back down at the desk and grabs the pen.  The paper slams against the desk, and she pops each individual finger before she starts in.  


Even scribbling the name all the haunted years of abuse from her masters swirled into her psych. The pen just as quickly as she picked it up dropped on the paper. Spring slides her hands across her face, feeling the tears stick to her palms. Silently she wept, but she could still hear the words of her sister over and over again.  

News flash, it isn’t always all about Spring.

Is it because Gray gave it to me, and not you?  

She slumps forward catching her ragged breaths in the air. Spring doesn’t want to finish this letter. The angry girl doesn’t even want to start this letter. There’s no time for her to lose her what little hold she has on her sanity. Taking in uneven breaths she wills herself to write.  


Did you ever wonder if I died with you?  The brother’s clause you know. Remember when we used to feel every little cut they did? Every little time they tore off a piece of our flesh. Every sadistic nature thing they did. You were forced to be there with me through hell. Do you..Did you feel the baby? The baby that *******…     You had Gray. You went to the enemy to force this falsified cure on us.  What did it all mean? Did you ever once wonder what I felt? You had your happiness and you ruined mine. Instead of being by my side after we defeated out masters you abandoned me. Not only once may I add. How is the married life? The last time you reached out was to ask about the sapling.  Why didn’t you come to me? I had lost my only friend. 

 Instead you left me in the dark. I guess in hindsight my death won’t matter. I have admitted to Gray that I ..I really do love him. Don’t worry, he chose you before, and now he’s chosen someone else that makes him happier than either of us could. Don’t interrupt his happiness. Sometimes people aren’t meat to be. In these years that I’ve been by Gray’s side, I’ve learned that I do love him. He’s my equal and the one person that gets me. He didn’t have to endure our torture to understand. He didn’t.. be forced.   Life’s a ****ing ***** sister of mine. I, Spring Weed, leave to you the heads of our masters. It’s you turn to take over their ****ty estate you left me in charge of when you betrayed me by befriending the enemy.  You’re my sister, and everyone always chooses you. I don’t have to say I ****ing love you, because you hear it enough. I doubt my death will change anything. 


After she signed the letter, she felt that there were so many other things she wanted to tell Autumn. But, she felt satisfied for what she fit on the paper. Sliding her fingers through her hair she dug her nails into her own scalp trying to dissolve the memories of that dread swinging light in the dungeon.  

In the back of her mind she heard the slithering voice whisper, ““Do you think there’s love out there, Liebchen? Do you think you could have a family?” For a moment the black unicorn in the corner transforms to her worst nightmare. Spring clamps her eyes shut and scoots out of the chair once more. Distraught she paces behind the desk keeping her reopened eyes locked on the corner.  

She had a few more letters to write, but when she looked at the clock. Time had sped up on her, and now the end was mere hours away.

October 01, 2018 02:12 am

Spring Taylor

09- Mackenzie

Her first friend outside of the cell. They got along swimmingly, and most would think they were ****ing twins. But, there were still some awkward points that floated around in the air. Part of her still blamed Mack for killing Gray, and she definitely blamed Mack for killing Autumn. Yet, the woman had been there in proxy for her after Gray had died. It made some things better. 

She takes out the second ciggie from her pack, closing one eye as she looks on the inside of the box. The thing is still in there. Spring can only hope that she remembers to add it to the briefcase when it's all said and done. With a groan she leans forward and ignores the figure that hasn't moved from the corner of the room. It makes her uncomfortable how it watches her hungrily.

My *****,

I still wish you hadn't gone full lost the plot and spared my sister, but more importantly spared my jew. Either way I guess I would be here? What the **** even happens when an undead thing dies? I'm going to be down pissed if they don't have ciggies or gin up there.. or down there.. or whereever the ****. I, Spring Weed, leave you ****ing Victor. I don't know what the **** else to leave you besides your hobo even though he's already yours. I'm also leaving you my ****ing clothes. You better ****ing wash them, freak.



10 - Victor Cheese

Almost to the end, and she feels surprisingly less heavy. If the desk bent away maybe she could float around like a fairy. Not the time to dwell on that thought. Spring grows restless and hungry, even though she's gnawing on some *******'s fist while she pens Victor's letter. It'd be short and sweet after all. Nothing too... cheesy. 


Well. Here we are. I'm dead and you're still...a hobo trashman. It's fine. I, Spring Weed, leave you this block of ****ing cheese with my ****ing ciggy ashes over it. Cheers.



11- Casey Noire

Spring chews on the thumb of her newest prey, legs propped on the desk. She shrugs her shoulders figuring it would probably be a good idea to pen the next letter. It was dangerously close to being the end.

Chav nugget wanker *****,

**** you and your toe eating habits you disgusting knobhead. Hope you ****ing choke on a ****ing heel. I, Spring Weed, leave you…oh wait..

I’m ****ing eating you.


Quiet cackles leave the girls lips which was a good contrast to the tears she had cried.

The girl makes a grab for the next parchment as her phone lights up beside her. Gray...Gray was here..  ****.

Quickly she scribbled out the name

Wanker Taylor,

Placing the stacks of papers into the briefcase before her best friend walked into the room. 

Even when she crumbled into his arms lifeless, it wasn't the complete end. It was the end of her life, but she banged on the invisible force that kept her from him. She screamed with her mouth. Spring Weed did everything she could on the other side to alert him that she,... had left him one last thing in a cigarette box. Transparent tears fell down her cheeks as the other reapers clasped around her and pulled her further into the darkness.

0.5- Wanker

44 hours earlier

Once death left her to her own vises, before she went full mental in her brother’s office… Spring had sat down among the dead bodies that surrounded her. After she had commandeered a pad of empty receipt paper. The very first letter she needed to write wasn’t to her family, it was to the most prominent figure in her life thus far. The end of the pen taps loudly against the table before she starts to write it out.

Wanker. Memoist. Jew. Neighbour. ****wad

Memo to: Memoist Wanker
Fr: Spring Weed

Subject: None

You asked me a question and I didn’t ****ing answer it. If you’re reading this I’m likely.. dead or dying. I can’t tell you the details. I told you I loved you when you had died. Do you not hear things when you’re dead? ****. That’s some ****in bull ****. You’re my best friend wanker. I don’t care what makes you happy, as long as you’re happy. If that’s being a closet freak.. well let your memoist freak flag ****ing fly. I wish I had time. Time to tell you what’s happening. Time to freak out about this. I don’t have timey. I hope you don’t return from your.. whatever the **** you’re doing too soon. I, Spring Weed, leave you my dinosaur stuff. I’m going to judge the **** out of you in the afterlife if you burn my ****ing dinosaur bandaids. I leave you the coven, because I know you can ****ing run one. We don’t have to worry about the orange guy anymore. And more importantly, I leave you my heart. I know ****ing shocked I have one too.

See you on the other side.

Spring Weed Taylor

Spring had folded the memo and placed it inside her cig box, not wanting to look at it. She had other letters to write after all. 

Spring isn't sure how long she stays in the thick darkness. She waits and waits for Heaven or Hell, but neither ever comes. 

October 01, 2018 03:20 am

Gray Taylor

Life is a f-cking joke.

In the months since the heavy loss of Spring, Gray had spiraled out of control and made it his mission in life to sabotage everything in his path. It is an art that he excels at, and now he is left wondering what else there is to eradicate when he has nothing left.

It is this that brings him back to Moscow, where it had all begun. Gray had stopped at the entrance to the property, exiting the car to spend some minutes with the only person that would understand all that he intentionally fails at. Everything he did, he did for her. At the very least, that is what he tells himself.

The reality of it is simply emotional ignorance.

Not a word is uttered before he returns to the vehicle, letting it carry him the rest of the way until he reaches the front doors of the vacant establishment. It is bizarre to walk inside, the air murky and musty, completely void of life. Gray doesn't pause to observe the familiar surroundings, instead moving briskly toward her room.

The floor is scorched, and his head would tilt to the right to pop the tension from his neck. Who the f-ck had been so disrespectful? This is her room. This is her home. And they desecrated it.

He forces himself out and away, if only to keep his temper from further pushing the issue.

Gray moves past his room, and all others, has he makes his way to the last place he'd seen her alive. Surely, there would be some good in facing her death, and accepting it. There might even be answers, and that would nurture his desire for closure. Never mind that it may worsen other things.

The room alone is enough to make him want to turn back, yet Gray forces himself into the space, confident steps taking him slowly to the desk that he would take a seat at. This is it. This is where he had found her. The last minutes of her life had been spent here, and he'd held her. He mourned her.

He still mourns her.

An irritable huff escapes the being, overcast sights wandering before they would lock onto the briefcase he had stashed beneath the desk. It had been hasty, and purposeful. He didn't want anyone to see his name on that piece of paper. Alone, he brings it out of hiding, opening it to present that piece of paper once more.

He lifts it, wondering if she had started this before or after the one he'd found tucked into the cigarette case. In reality, it doesn't much matter.

Gray Taylor would pour over that briefcase, finding within a stack of envelopes with names angrily scrawled in her hand.

Twig. Blaize. Joe. Winter. Douchlav. Summer. Jasper. Autumn. Her B-tch. Victor. Casey.

Several minutes would be spent, curiosity getting the better of him before he closes the case and stands once more.

She'd written them.

He would deliver.
November 30, 2018 09:41 pm
Actives (16) Fresh Blood (2) View All The Fallen (2) Graveyard
Crimson Belladonna, LillyEmperium, Gyldi, mist, Mackenzie, Ophir Jadu, Iria Visile, Asherah, Winter Summers, Cassandra Carnivale Jadu, Akira Misato, Kenpai, Briahne Dancescu, The Light, Mallory Quarters, Lizzie Windsor  Arthur
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