A Taste from; The Many Unnatural Lives of Scott Solomon Dean

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“We serial killers are your sons, we are your husbands, we are everywhere. And there will be more of your children dead tomorrow.”
Ted Bundy



    “There are real monsters in this life but they are not out there in the darkness somewhere just out of eyesight. The real monsters are sitting right next to you smiling and laughing the whole time they are thinking on how many ways they wish to kill you. The real monsters are entwined in the society of humanity since the dawn of time.”
Raven Blackstone



    “I knew there was something odd with me when I was a small child. Other kids would not have nothing to do with me. It would come to me in just a short few years that I thought I had a monster within me. Then at true revelation struck me, damn, I’m the demon within. I accepted, embraced, and loved my bloodthirsty insatiable appetites upon all I would cross without care or reason.”
Brandon “The Worm” Reed



    “I lost my virginity while inside a woman and then immediately starting killing her. As I was doing so, I realized there are far greater pleasures than sex could ever offer me. I simply followed my strong urges. I became a god over who lives and who dies.”
Johnathan Knepp



Introduction

Standing upon Mount Moriah are two men, both wearing their white hard hats and their matching Corp of Engineers shirts. The oldest in silver hair and sharp blue eyes is rolling up the overall plans of a major project. Behind them a small surveying crew doing their work just out of earshot of the two.
    

“So, you’re on board with the plan or what?” The older said snidely.
    

The younger man looking rather pale from this immoral plan. “Yeah, you actually want me to go with that? You want to only move the headstones and leave the rotted bones right where they’re at?”
    

The older man turned to face the younger, “Listen slick, it isn’t like your goddamned grandmother is among the dead buried down there with all the other whores. Mount Moriah Cemetery is just some fucking forgotten place in the annals of local history, superstition, and any other redneck beliefs. The goddamned rotting bodies stay right where they’re at and we’ll move the stones to the new location.”

The older man paused only for a second. “If you can’t be a part of this, then you’re off the team. Besides, you like being married to my daughter, don’t you?” It is nothing less than a viable threat.


“Frenchy, what are you gonna do, take my wife way from me if I don’t agree to this unspeakable bullshit of yours?”
    

“Taking away? No, I was thinking more along the lines of her being a widow. Accidents happen all the fucking time, Bob.  This is a huge project, you may find yourself prone to one such fatality or something.” Frenchy paused with a determined grin froth with rage painted upon his otherwise, white face.

“Look, I brought you on so that it would help you both financially and making a goddamned man out of you. This would be the first big project you have ever been on. I won’t allow you to fuck things up here – too much riding on this – too much money to be had wasting it on bullshit. The getting is good, so for god sakes, pull your head out of your ass and join the team or you can be lying face down with those there at Mount Moriah Cemetery in an unmarked grave all covered by three feet of crushed rock and gravel with another two feet of reinforced concrete. Go along with my plans or simply be a result of an accident. Hell, I’ll even dig the grave with the traditional six feet of earth for you Bob. Now how would that be?” Frenchy’s eyes looked like two slits of rage.
    

“So, what’s it gonna be, Bob? I don’t have all fucking day goddamn it. Make up your mind now you fucking cocksucker.”
    

Bob Weber browbeat and threatened by his own father-in-law wiped the sweat off of his own brow with his white handkerchief. “Okay, all right, I’m in.” Bob looked up to his father-in-law shaking his head affirmatively.
    

“Well alright then…” Frenchy then put his hand on Weber’s shoulder and whispered in Bob’s ear. “And if I catch your prick in another woman or that boyfriend of yours, I’ll kill you myself and I’ll put your body down a hole that no one shall ever find – not even God could find you.”
    

Weber stunned in the realization that Frenchy is already well aware of his two affairs also shook his head affirmatively in both overwhelming shame and wonderment.
    

“Good then, I won’t have to bury them next to your grave down there where the new outer parking lot will be,” Frenchy smiled ever so coldly as he removed his firm grip on Weber’s shoulder.
    

“Fly right, son, and we’ll both be fucking rich. You’ll see.” Frenchy turned away and walked up to his white air-conditioned pickup truck then driving away from the scene.  

Weber watched him go and realizing that no matter what and how he personally felt, his father-in-law had him under Frenchy’s thumb, and there would be no way of getting out from under it.

Then like a bolt of lightning, a though entered his mind, “Accidents happen all the time on major worksites. My fucking father-in-law could easily be an accidental casualty.” A smile broke across Weber’s face.

The massive construction of the Whispering Pines Sanitarium with its own super-max facility will begin shortly after the transfer of the headstones and all things above ground belonging to the Mount Moriah Cemetery. These opportunities will afford Weber the chance to not only get out from under Frenchy’s thumb, but to shatter it completely.


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DarcWorX’s February 2016 Official Magazine Cover…

Designed by Douglas S. Taylor for DarcWorX
DARC-TMLOSSD

Last year I remember talking about how much I (usually) hate the month of February. I guess it’s the time of the year, but then again, I love the season of Winter. In fact, I love all four seasons, and I live in a place that offers that to me. So, what is it then I dislike so much about it?

It could be the fact of the assholes born in this month. I believe this is more accurate to how and why I feel the way that I do. Stains, I mean some serious shit-stains upon humanity are born in this month that I have the unfortunate unpleasantries of knowing. Most of these stains are dead. One remains, and for this wretched bitch, her days draws ever nearer. Folks say, “Good people die young…” It is a saying and as we all know that at times it can feel that way. Nevertheless, the opposing thought of, “Bad people live forever…” This too seems at times true enough.

It is not quite February yet…

Having said that, it seems 2016 in general has started out pretty damned grim with the deaths of Lemmy of Motorhead, Glenn Frey, David Bowie, Allen Rickman, and some other truly talented people wistfully taken away. Personally, I think David Bowie just went back home.

This may just be my observation, but, doesn’t seem like when a popular musician dies, iTunes is the first to exploit the loss in financial gain?

I certainly see it. As far as iTunes goes, it seems more of an obituary of Musician at the Music Store. It’s been this way for some time. iTunes isn’t the only place or company (Apple) that does these things.

Companies and corporations play upon every human emotion available. Like the corporate news, it will “invent” some sort of Greek Tragedy on their own. January, 2016 must be a fucking cash-cow for this.

So, other than my thoughts aside, what have I been up to?

Other than fixing broken computers for people, I have been working on my latest endeavor, “The Many Unnatural Lives of Scott Solomon Dean.” In fact, it’s a complete re-write of the beginning. I know for my fans out here who have purchased, “Tales From Under the Concrete Volume III” that there are two excerpts of novel projects. Unfortunately or fortunately, however you want to look at things, the older version of said story in said book only exists in Volume III. Same for “Cold Fusion” which it’s shelved right now.

So, with the social media campaign continuing on building up more followers and those exposed to my work continues to flourish in the spite of a couple of loaded shit-stains reading this article; there is no stopping me, motherfuckers!

They and I know who they are. Yes, this system captures all IP Addresses, Service Providers, and other geographic demographic data. If this catches you by some kind of surprise then all’s I can say is, “Unplug your Internet. Discontinue services with your ISP, and shred your hard drive, smartphone, and other electronic devices. In fact, just bury yourself in a shallow grave somewhere…”

You have to be pretty fucked up in the head if you think no one can track you. Personally, I don’t do that at all. This system, WordPress, and the authorities do it for me. Since I am on this topic, I never track or keep email addresses. The system uses this information that is protected by WordPress and would be freely given over to the NSA and FBI at the very slightest suggestion.

Kind of spooky and all too well known…

Survive
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