Speaking as an expert blogger - With a content waring

Sitting in his room staring at the blinking cursor that greeting him on the blank page of the newly opened Word Perfect document, it soon became apparent that Colin had no ideas whatsoever. And this blog was important.

Sally Atkins of Curtis Blue talent and literary agency had said she’d been keeping an eye on his weekly postings. She was impressed, she wanted her boss to have a read. The email arrived about an hour ago to say he’d be having a look at tomorrows article. Since then, Colin could only think of the most trivial of things.

“Something has to be done.” he said closing the lid on his laptop. “Something I said I’d never do.

He approached his bookshelf, using the index finger of his right hand he scanned the spines looking for the book had already cost him more than money. A chill ran down his spine as he found it. The words of the title made him feel sick, not because of what they said, but because of what he was about to do.

He extracted his mint copy of  The Writers and Artists Dark Magic Book from it’s usual cradle, took a deep breath, then opened it at the index. Again his right hand index finger guided his eyes down the list. The finger then stabbed the page on the word he was looking for.

“Page 146"

He flicked though until he found it. There in front of him was everything he wanted, but nothing that he wanted do.

“I’m going to need a few things”

The red L.E.D’s of his radio alarm clock burned 20:27 into the dark air of Colin’s room as he returned with a bag full of paraphernalia. As the clock ticked over to 20:43 Colin had cleared a space on the floor and drawn a Pentagram in pencil on the faux beech laminate floor.

Late night shopping had enabled him to get the candles, white spirits, charcoal, goose fat and gerbil that he needed. The candles were already a blaze at the points of star. He used a pestle and mortar to crush down some charcoal before mixing the black powder with the white spirits and goose fat. Sitting naked in the middle of the Pentangle Colin scooped a large lump of the soot coloured mix on to his favoured finger and began to draw a circle on his chest as per the instruction in the book. This was accompanied by the incantation which he delivered with a monotone seriousness.

“Ego te envoke tenebris Deus magnus scribendi.”

He lifted the gerbil above his head.

“EGO TE ENVOKE TENEBRIS DEUS MAGNUS SCRIBENDI.”

He thrust a knife deep into the rodent letting the blood flow over his face and into his mouth. The sound of breaking bricks filled the air. The darkness around him suddenly brightened with a fire red glow invading through the crack opening up in the wall. With the light came the sound of a million souls screaming in agony. The insult on Colin’s senses made him vomit. Quickly the wall opened up revealing a landscape of hellish vista. In the distance he could see the Tor of skulls, rising high into the sky, almost touching the fire that burned across the canopy.

Colin stood and start up the twisting path leading to the mound of death. Each side of him, blooded skinless bodies of human and beast engaged in tortuous acts of coitus, buggery, fellatio and cunnilingus. Exposed nerve endings causing even the slightest touch to result in an instant vocal release.  Their screams of both pleasure and pain tore through the air like nails on a slate board. The smell of rotting flesh and unwashed sex stung his nasal passages.

At the end of the path he could see the red fleshy steps he needed climb. Placing his foot on the first one he could feel the damp warm squelch ooze between his toes. The accompanying wail made him look down. Each step was made a number of infants, their skin, flailed to the point of removal, leaving their entrails exposed to create the soft warm cushion for the climber.

Tears fell from his eyes as each step he climbed brought forth the sound of a child in agony. Eventually he arrived at the top. In front of him, sat on a throne made from the bones of a thousand suffering humans desperately trying to reach up for the forgiveness of God, was the one he came to see.

A small twisted creature, it’s skin leathered by the furnaces of Hades, masturbating with a severed hand dripping with rotten flesh. It look at Colin and smiled, tightening its fire blackened eyes.

“Forgive my intrusion.” Colin bowed his head, “But I require your teachings Dark Lord Stroud.”

When the Dark Lord spoke, the sound of a hundred different voices sightly out of phase with each other hissed forward.

“Ask you question?”
“I am stuck, desperate. I have no idea what to write about for my next blog?”

Stroud rolled his eyes upward, screamed with the intensity of a thousand deaths and ejaculated, hitting Colin on the shoulder. The acidic sperm began to eat into his flesh. It took all his strength to not yield to the pain.

Throwing the pleasure hand to one side Stroud leant forward.

“Speaking as an expert blogger,” the evil one tilted his head, “write about your experiences. People love to read about real life, not matter how fucking dull and boring it might be.”
“Thank you my Lord”, Colin started to shake with the pain, “I am indebted...”
“Shut up you snivelling piece of shit,” Stroud lunged forward and grabbed Colin’s face, “Now just fuck off.”

The Dark Lord straightened his arm, throwing Colin back across the skinless seas of flesh, crashing back into his room. He opened his eyes to see the darkness had returned. He stood and switched on the light. Looking down at his left shoulder he could see the scars left by acid cum. His clock shone the time 23:30. He lifted the lid of his lap top and began to write.