Angel in my Pocket

With hands clasped to my chest
As though in death
Upright and walking
Holding tight a tiny heart
Angel from my Pocket fights
Insisting to be let alone
Put back in his rightful place as conscience
I give you adulation, Angel
A pat on the back for a job well done
And now I stuff you,  wings and all
Into a slingshot aimed at the Heavens
I release you of your bonds to me
Launch you at the sky
Shoot you straight back to where you came from
Today I do not need an Angel in my Pocket
When the Devil on my shoulder will do just fine
photo 2
TTPG edited-1
A Matt Farnsworth Film The Orphan Killer 2 Bound x Blood Full Fathom 5 Studios
A Matt Farnsworth Film
The Orphan Killer 2
Bound x Blood
Full Fathom 5 Studios

Majesty – Metamorphosis

 The television mutters in the other room, white noise in the back ground to fill my mind as I fulfil my needs, feed my tendencies.  I find it surprisingly easy to forget my humanity here, in this place.    To let the demon that lives in me breathe, spread her wings and destroy.  The Reaper has been lurking near these past few days,  his steely eye on mine whenever I allow him to catch it.  Grim is a bad sport, I’ve found.  I’d really don’t fucking care that his schedule is thrown out of whack by my extracurricular activities.  A girl has to live after all.

The newscaster has a delightfully sonorous voice that sets my nerves on edge along with my teeth. He is speaking of yet another body found, this time in pieces each encased in a balloon and left at the bottom of a public pool. Police have no suspects. Oh look, a composite drawing of the victim.  Morons, they got the eyes wrong. They always do. Ingenious plan though, even if I do say so myself.

My current friend is coming out of her unconsciousness like a champ. She is very strong. I chose well this time, the fight she puts up refreshing to the mewling whining the others have given in response.   “You bitch.” Her muffled voice is low and mean, full of killing passion. I smile as my mouth fills with water, pouting my lips slightly. “Music to my ears. Welcome back.”

Her golden honey brown eyes glare at me, sparkling with dagger dripping fury that  fly in my direction. “He’ll come for me, and you fucking know it, he’ll KILL YOU,” she spits at me, baring her teeth at me in a snarl so deep that I could see the delicate lining of her upper lip, pink as a virgin’s folds. Her rage ebbs slightly as I stride across the room to where she sits on the floor, squatting down and spreading my knees, making my small skirt slide sensuous up my thighs. “You’re a whore,” she bites, “you think I want to see that?” lifting her chin to gesture towards the bareness I’d revealed.

“He’ll come and then we will see won’ t we darling,” I chuckle, running my fingers along the smoothness of her throat to the shelf of her chin, and pull  my hand  back quickly as she snaps at them with her strong white teeth. “I don’t care if you don’t want to see. You’re free not to look, yet you did..” I laugh at her, rising to my feet on my 3 inch heels and pulling on the chain that bolts her to the wall, making it rattle like a metal maracas.  She begins to sob, and desperately pull at the silver collar that surrounds her neck, her body wracked with the force of her fear and grief. I stand for a moment, watching her and finding myself disgusted with all this emotion. “You can stop crying. Your tears mean nothing to me. You were warned, I did so on several occasions. As you can see, patience is not one of my strongest Virtues.” She looks up at me, regarding me with dawning horror, finally understanding and knowing I was right.


A knock at the door disturbs our discussion, and I excuse myself to answer the insistent ringing of the bell. Apparently Patience isn’t my visitor’s strong suit either. I can hear muttering and grumbling from the other side, a fist pounded against the heavy wooden door. A male voice I recognise, in a snit it sounds like.  How wonderful, we can begin, I think as I open the door and am nearly bowled over by the force of his embrace. His hands are everywhere as he pushes me backwards, pinning me between his body and the wall with a lip bruising kiss as his hand finds its way under my skirt.

“You changed the locks you bitch.”  I can hear her gasping for air and trying to scream his name as he ravages me, his fingers finding my wetness and driving deeply as he bites my throat. My hand finds his hair and I grasp a handful, pulling hard as my orgasm breaks, unable to stop the groan that escapes my lips. “Turn around,” Zander says, reaching to spin me to the wall as I step smoothly away, straightening my skirt with a smile.  He can wait. “No. I have something to show you. Come in here and see.” He smirks at me, and I gloat inwardly, wondering how I could possibly remain with this fool    He has no clue as to what I’ve done and saunters my way, full of self-confidence, reaching to stroke my still hard nipple through the thin silk of my blouse and making it harder still.  I slap his cheek and shove him away, not speaking but pointing towards his latest conquest.

She whimpers his name, her hand out and crying as he roughly pinches and twists my nipple, enjoying how I flinch slightly at the pain.  And smile, flicking my eyes to her.  His own smile fades from his eyes as he takes in his lover, her hair in disarray and nose running snot down her chin and turns back to me with a narrowed expression.  “This is why you wanted me here?  What am I supposed to do with her now?”   I shrug, indifferently, not really caring what he does with her now that the excitement was gone. It wasn’t new anymore, and I’d frankly lost interest.

The newscaster was back with a special bulletin, The police had a lead and I laughed out loud. What buffoons they were. I’d been operating under their noses for months and they didn’t have an inkling. All the better for me, I think, hearing scuffling and the minute tinkle of the chain hitting the floor. A strangled scream follows and I spin around to see Zander thrusting his hips with abandon into her open drooling mouth. “Fuck Zander, You couldn’t wait until I was out of the damned room?  Let her breathe. She’ll suck better,” I throw over my shoulder before leaving. I didn’t need to see the person I’d chosen to spend my life with fucking his whore, it was bad enough to know about them. This one came to me to gloat over their dalliances, to our home.  I snapped, having had quite enough of the rumours and confessions. Five women in two weeks had come to me, one knocking at my window at 3 am, photo evidence in hand to make her point.


Reaper is lurking in the shadows, his bony hand wrapped around the handle of his Scythe as he watches the sideshow behind me.  Perhaps he will take them both and make my job slightly easier.  I fee his gaze on my face as my eyes flick up to the ceiling, spying a stray drop of blood that had escaped my notice until now. I’d been so careful, or so I thought. It holds my attention, that one drop of blood, the one thing that stands between me and detection.   “You bit me you bitch!” Zander roars and I chuckle under my breath. Men are stupid, I think as I stare at that one drop of blood. The one thing that could ruin everything. I’d left my specially concocted cleaner and a clean rag on the bookshelf, forgotten in my exhaustion following the last bloodletting.  Grabbing what I needed and carrying the small ladder, I place it underneath the offending evidence, and climb the first three narrow steps.   The solution is eye wateringly astringent, and I cough as I spray it on the rag.   Balancing on the narrow step, and reaching until I was on the balls of my feet,  I wipe it away.  The evidence destroyed,  I take a step down, noticing vaguely that the whimpers and choking sobs have stopped. She didn’t last long, Lightweight.

A rough inhale behind me alerts me to Zander’s presence, his teeth on my side a moment later tear holes in my blouse and nip  at my flesh as his hands roam across my body. I glance down at him, feeling the wetness of his tongue through the thin fabric and grab his hair, pulling his head back with a snarl. “Really Zander?  I’m done being anyone’s sloppy seconds thanks.”   Using the handful of his hair in my hand for balance, I step down from the stool and release my grip.  “I didn’t fuck her,” he mutters, taking my hand and leading me to the stairs, “lets go upstairs.” I laugh at him, yanking my hand away, “Hardly.  We have a mess to clean up soon.”

“We? What mess? You need to figure out what to do about her.  Is this my punishment?” he snaps at me, pointing his finger at the prone body lying on the floor, “You refuse me because of her? Change the locks?  What did you expect Jes.  You’re a cold-hearted cunt and a man needs a little warmth.” It’s all true, every word, and still I don’t give a fuck.  I didn’t suck off every guy who came my way, where he took every opportunity to bury his dick in whatever warm hole made itself available.   A soft whimper and crude mutterings from his toy serve only to irritate me further.  “You want it so bad? I’m sure that will accommodate you.  I’m going upstairs, alone.  Don’t bother me.”  I knew I was pushing him closer and closer to the ledge, pushing the buttons and baiting him deliberately.  I planned to make him pay for his choices and none of those payments included me.


“Don’t you walk away from me.”  Zander’s low tone screams danger, and I turn my back to him as I climb the first few steps towards the upper level.   “I’m coming up with you, and if you play nice, then we will take care of that, together. Or I could fuck you and make her watch, then cut her throat.”  So inelegant, without foreplay what is death, to cut her throat would end the careful work I’d done to insure that her end would come at a snail’s pace.  I turned to gift him with some biting remark, probably about his manhood, as that has always made him burn faster to find him in my space.  “Why must you torture me? You get off on it…..God you’re sick.”   He knocks me to the floor, his tongue invading my mouth as his hands continued their earlier courses,  like independent beasts seeking to slip under my skin. He was nearly ruthless as he pushed himself into me,  daring me to bite and scratch.  I did; I fought like an animal until I couldn’t fight any longer.  Human biology being what it is, I couldn’t help my body responses, and met his every  angry and frustrated thrust with one of my own.    When he’d had his fill and subsequently filled me with his seed, he fell limp, as was also the norm.  “Get the fuck off of me.  I have things to do now.  Go make sure you didn’t damage her.” I quickly climbed the remaining steps and turned back to look down at him, laying there watching me as I moved away. “Please,” I smiled, relieved to see his smile in return.  He’d never know what hit him.

I descend the stairs, wrapped in nothing more than my skin, already thinking ahead to the tasks ahead.  The air is scented with the smell of blood, salted copper,  and I hesitate.  I could rip out his throat with my hands, being unarmed is no concern. The complete and utter silence was.   The bottom floor was dark, only the drifting movements of the tattered robes Grim insists on wearing change my surroundings. Slowly I continue down, my ears tuned to any sort of noise that might alert me to what awaits me in the dark.  My hand finds the switch on the wall where I’d had my fun for the evening chained and am nearly blinded as it flares into life. That mother fucking imbecile.  I was going to hurt him badly and with delight.  She sits staring at me, her eyes bulging from the chain that had obviously cut off her air supply when he’d hung her from the heavy-duty hook I’d had installed by the back door.  Her lips were swollen and her bloodied tongue protruded from between them, as through she were mocking me.  The back door is banging back and forth in the night breeze. I assume the asshole left that way and stalk to the door, giving the body a hard kick in the gut as I pass, stepping through with no care who sees me.  “Goodbye.”  The world explodes in a flurry of white screaming light as I drop to the ground, all strength gone and feel my breath as it escapes.  “Zander….” I barely am able to whisper and he smiles, the same smile I fell in love with and it carries me away.


I wake in hospital surrounded by police and nurses, wired for sound and extremely pissed off.  The sheriff informs me that I’d been injured and was now in good hands, fully aware of the first fact and still I debated on the second.  I simply nod,  rather than speak and run the risk of my tone betraying me, and so I sit and stare, waiting for the real reason he was at my bedside.  “Do you know why you’re here?”

“I do indeed.  I came downstairs from the shower, presuming I was alone, as I live alone.  I had a boyfriend but I kicked his ass out and changed the locks recently.  I came into the kitchen and found that poor woman  when I turned on the lights.” “You were found unconscious beside her.  Your fingerprints were collected from the collar and the chain around her neck.  Care to explain?”  I pause, allowing the tears of rage and frustration to come flooding from the corners of my eyes.  He bought it.  “I tried to lift her but she was too heavy.  I tried to get the chain from around her neck but…” I didn’t try at all.  But he doesn’t need to know that,  I did touch the links nearest the bruised flesh, and ran my hands up the cool metal that was slipped over that hook.  “Do you know who did it?” the Sheriff asks, as he looks out the window to the parking lot below, then down at his hands before meeting my eyes.  He knows who did it.  “Yeah, I do.  I saw him after he hit me.  The bastard tried to knock my brain from my head with a fucking hammer. A HAMMER. What kind of person does that?” The son of a bitch.   Not only did he steal my kill but he did it so inelegantly, and left me to clean up his mess.  I’d have his fucking head for this.

“You’ll be released tomorrow.  Do you have anyone we can call for you?” I shook my head, suppressing the smirk that threatened to spread across my lips.  Reaper stands at the door, his fingers tapping on the symbol of his Office, making me distinctly nervous.  “I’ve  no one.  Can I go home?”  asked quietly, keeping my eyes on my lap.  Perhaps one day I would have sisters to call my own, fabulous bitches to share my secret world.  For now, I had only the one who was not reachable in her travels.  I’m sure she will be most unhappy with my chosen recreation.  No matter.  She’d adjust.  He nods and hands me a heavy envelope.  “This was left for you at the desk.  Looks important to me.  I’ll be in touch.”   I tear into it the moment my door closes, and smile at what I find inside.  If I ever see Zander again I’ll cut him to pieces.  For now, my path calls me forward. 


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Bound x Blood – Axefall

3:21 AM Los Angeles time. My eyes fly open as someone, something,  twists the handle of my hotel room door, seeking entry as I lay awake, my heart banging in my chest. A mostly sleepless night has turned my mind to a more macabre place to be than normal. What could be lurking outside my door? I hear a deep muffled voice, a maniacal giggle, harsh grunting, the scraping of an axe played along the metal railing of the stairs, and I am afraid. Is all this designed to make me worry about my own sanity or the realities of my impending doom?

Not far from where I huddle under my blankets, listening and wondering if I’d fit through the small bathroom window should my escape be necessary,  my colleagues still lay aslumber, content in their own dreams. Both unaware that terror may well be hunting them as well. I have no real fear for them, for  they would enjoy any of the torture that would befall them.
A final whisper sounds just outside my window, this sing-song tones brutal delight, you’re going to die before it fades away into oblivion. This is true. Today I meet my death. Knowing that Sandman has flown, probably screaming,  I sit at the desk, the bleached glow of the laptop throws eerie shadows about the small space, and I lose myself in words. My mind plays over and over the lessons I learned as I muse on the implications of what had transpired the day before.
This marks my sixth day and final day on set of The Orphan Killer 2 Bound x Blood, and also slayday for me.  Yesterday I saw a vile individual born out of the darkness of my heart, her inception and subsequent venomous words dragged out kicking and screaming by Cruel Creator Matt Farnsworth. Keeping in mind that I am no actress, and therefore am unaware of how exactly to reach into myself to find this bitch, I found myself in the capable hands of Matt.  With support and encouragement from my Sister in Slay Diane Foster, and my good friend and cohort Keeper, and under the watchful eyes and ears of the Murder Crew,  I finally found the cobweb ridden trap door where all my darkness is stored. And I’ll need that for what is about to transpire
Hours later I find myself sitting in the backseat of Associate Producer Kaleb Tholen‘s low slung car in LA traffic, listening to live story time as Keeper reads his latest.  A welcome distraction to my raving thoughts. Soon I will be at the mercy of the intense sunlight and the TOK Murder Crew. Am I nervous? Does Marcus his swing axe with precision? The answer is yes on both counts.
Now anyone who knows me knows I’m about lessons.  And bloodsauce, and that’s exactly what I have received thus far.   The lessons came yesterday. Today the bloodsauce will flow in bloody rivers, or so I have been told. I can’t let that feline out of the bag. It knows too much. But I can tell you my impressions. 
The Orphan Killer 2  Bound x Blood A Matt Farnsworth Creation Full Fathom 5 Studios  Marcus Miller, The Orphan Killer Portrayed by Matt Horwich
The Orphan Killer 2
Bound x Blood
A Matt Farnsworth Creation
Full Fathom 5 Studios
Marcus Miller, The Orphan Killer
Portrayed by Matt Horwich
Donning my costume, Armenian coffee in hand I pace and allow the panic rat to twist and bite in my chest. My first real taste of madness came the day before, my cherry popped in a most surreal way, and it left me floundering. Today, the shadow of the axe weighs heavily, and I’m ready, I think, to test the mettle of my inner scream queen. 
My first view of the Miller Killers, their brutal attentions focused on me is enough to send anyone screaming off the edge of the abyss.  It’s easy to forget the cameras in the wake of the bloody tsunami stalking my way, and in the deviant gleam I find in the eyes of my director.  His direction is perfect, as is the show advancement of those who will seal my fate. I admit, they were provoked, and you’ll find little remorse for it. 
Matt Farnsworth Creator, director and producer The Orphan Killer 2 Bound x Blood Full Fathom 5 Studios
Matt Farnsworth
Creator, director and producer
The Orphan Killer 2
Bound x Blood
Full Fathom 5 Studios
I observe the sinuous movements of babysister, how she slinks forward with the grace of a wildcat, her eyes alight with hunger and desire. She wants to hurt me, the intent nearly dripping from the radiant beacons that are her eyes, and I’m her willing victim. Big brother in his bloody mask, his axe swaying back and forth like pendulum is another story. He is built to terrify and that he does.  His eyes rage from the eye holes in his mask like icy blue Hell, a capering psychotic light.  I am afraid of him, and the first scream that tears from my lips is real, to my pleasure.
To say I was given the blood soaked royal treatment is not adequate.  The memories of what feels like gallons of bloodsauce poured over my head, or sprayed in my face will last forever as will the warm feeling of camaraderie from my brothers in arms, legs…Severed Souls….

And so I’d like to spend my greetings and say merci from my dark heart, for the forceful direction of my Dark King Matt Farnsworth, and yes sisters, it IS kinda hot. No Remorse. Thanks Matt, for everything, Brother. The equally cruel yet gentler suggestions from my Cruel Queen Diane Foster. Thanks sis, you opened my eyes. That was hot too… For the discussions, Matt Horwich, you are the Multiverse my brutal brother. Keep smashing those limits.
I could get poetic, but the Murder Crew, man, you guys slay me. Kaleb you are a scary hilarious man with a remarkable eye.  I enjoyed getting to know you.  Simpat you are an incredible artist. It was a pleasure to watch you work. And my thanks to Mr. & Mrs. Beshirian.  It was a pleasure and an honour.   Marcos, thanks for the tips….I’ll never hear sound in film the same again, and David …you taught me much. Thanks for the calming words, I won’t forget them. My good friend Keeper, you sir, impressed me. Thank you for your support and encouragement. It means much.
My time in The City of angels was fraught with horror and delight. Many memories and night terrors await in its wake. For that I am grateful. As for you,  my TOK Family, they await you too…the memories of what was and the new ones to come. Prepare yourselves. Deadbolt your doors and make no sound. You know what happens when Miller Killers come around…..The Orphan Killer 2 Bound x Blood
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A Matt Farnsworth Film The Orphan Killer 2 Bound x Blood Full Fathom 5 Studios
A Matt Farnsworth Film
The Orphan Killer 2
Bound x Blood
Full Fathom 5 Studios
“The characters Marcus Miller, and Babysister are owned by  Matt Farnsworth”
©™ Full Fathom 5 Productions LLC
Full Fathom 5 Productions LLC All Rights Reserved



My ass is wet from sitting on
Rain soaked stairs, the carpeting
Musty and in need of change
Because I’m too fucking lazy
To stand as I’m pelted in the eyes
With raindrops from heaven
That feel like boulders I
n my elevated state of mind
I‘m imagining a sun filled destination
Where tequila flows like water
And cigarettes are not being shot
Out of your hands with laser cannons
Because every body smokes
And nobody cares
A place where my wandering mind
Can caress the endless blue horizon
Like the habitual voyeur I am
Watch as it changes colours like clothing
With no worries or care just mindless
Not that I do care
Because I don’t about much
Except my ass being wet
On these stairs in the rain

The Miller Killers: Death by Association

The Miller Killers: Death by Association

Los Angeles 2014.  Heinous, brutal and beautifully bloody.  This is the year the horror genre will be slaughtered, all courtesy of the mind of Matt Farnsworth and his murder crew. With Matt at the helm as Captain, and the assembled sickos that have been called forth, film history has been pioneered to new delicious levels of depravity.  I am proud and slightly terrified to have been so graciously invited and accepted to be a part of this soul shredding and sometimes surreal experience, and to be afforded the opportunity to participate in the making of this next journey,  The Orphan Killer 2 Bound x Blood. 


My first night found me sweltering and anxious to see what seemed to be the talk of many an excited TOK Family member, mostly around the proverbial blood bucket.  The madness was a bloody haze as I joined the TOK Murder Crew, and watched a most vicious death played out in front of my eyes.  I had my proof, my fear was founded as I observed The Messenger of Pain himself dish out a death  to be proud of.  The past few evenings have taught me more than I could have hoped for;  lessons at the hands of our Cruel Creator himself, a promise of what was to come.   He has shown me The Path,  lit the way with his candor and truth,  and filled my heart with terror as my own mortality is bearing down, drawing ever closer. At times the shadow of the axe has weighed heavily on my dark soul.   
The Orphan Killer  Created by Matt Farnsworth ©™ Full Fathom 5 Productions LLC
The Orphan Killer
Created by Matt Farnsworth
©™ Full Fathom 5 Productions LLC
Tonight is my 4th and final night in this location, a sprawling and still busy working factory in the industrial section of Los Angeles.  Around me is a veritable river of immense talent unlike I’ve seen before or am likely to see again.  And here, in this place, I find the madness turned reality, surrounded by a small crew, all who move together like a well oiled thrasher. They churn out gold, bloody chocolate and with relative ease, all parts of the whole that will result in the bloodiest and most stomach turning film horror has ever seen. And it is now, in the shadows observing that I truly cherish the term, Death By Association.  Is there any other way to go?
The Orphan Killer 2 Bound x Blood Created by Matt Farnsworth ©™ Full Fathom 5 Productions LLC Photo by Kaleb Tholen
The Orphan Killer 2
Bound x Blood
Created by Matt Farnsworth
©™ Full Fathom 5 Productions LLC
Photo by Kaleb Tholen
 It’s with the greatest love and respect that I pronounce Matt to be a truly sick fuck. Tonight’s kill is  brutal in ways droolworthy, and I  am becoming increasingly disturbed and deeply sickened.  As the end draws near, I find it cumulating into something magical. That’s right. Magical. What I see is the mind of a master, the vision of what is alive behind the blues of our King, playing out with the intensity of a nuclear explosion. 
Diane Foster, Producer and Star of The Orphan Killer 2 Bound X Blood Created by Matt Farnsworth      ©™ Full Fathom 5 Productions LLC
Diane Foster, Producer and Star of The Orphan Killer 2 Bound X Blood
Created by Matt Farnsworth
©™ Full Fathom 5 Productions LLC

Babysister, that Slasherlicious beauty, is beyond cruel, perhaps evil in her impetuous desires to lay waste to those that had enticed her wrath. And she slays with abandon, her Monster well established and remarkably well versed in the ways of Murder. Watching Diane Foster move is much like observing a sinuous rabid kitten, purring and snarling her way into your deepest nightmares and lustful dreams.  I both fear and desire her attentions, knowing that she does not save anyone who attracts her eye, and wishing it even so.


The Orphan Killer 2 Bound x Blood Created by Matt Farnsworth ©™ Full Fathom 5 Productions LLC
The Orphan Killer 2
Bound x Blood
Created by Matt Farnsworth
©™ Full Fathom 5 Productions LLC
Big brother, The Orphan Killer  brings his killer ways to new heights, encouraging his babysister, indulgently, and coaching her on the ways of the superhuman anti-hero.  Matt Horwich brings new depth of character to Marcus Miller; Bigger, badder and ultimately more brutal, while maintaining his emotionless demeanour. Clutching his axe in his grip, ever the threatening painbringer, he will drive you to your knees, before driving it into your back. 
The Orphan Killer 2 Bound x Blood Created by Matt Farnsworth ©™ Full Fathom 5 Productions LLC
The Orphan Killer 2
Bound x Blood
Created by Matt Farnsworth
©™ Full Fathom 5 Productions LLC

Prepare yourself for the coming of a new and horrific wave of goretastic delights. With double the kills, double the brutality and double the killers, and from what I have gleaned thus far, The Orphan Killer 2, Bound x Blood is sure to please the black heart of any horror fan. Visit The Orphan Killer Store today for all your official TOK Merchandise. 

Introduce yourself to the TOK Murder Crew

“The characters Marcus Miller, and Babysister are owned by  Matt Farnsworth”
©™ Full Fathom 5 Productions LLC
Full Fathom 5 Productions LLC All Rights Reserved
Marcus MinionTTPG edited-1
The Orphan Killer 2 Bound x Blood Currently in Production A Matt Farnsworth Creation Full Fathom Five Studios
The Orphan Killer 2
Bound x Blood
Currently in Production
A Matt Farnsworth Creation
Full Fathom Five Studios


The Twisted Path Group

What do I feel when the wetness touches the skin,

The love of the other forbidden sin.

Like the flower that moves slowly as the wind blows

Only a touch away, exquisite pain

The pleasure of the unknown flesh, such delight

Pierce the body with the fleshy blade

Watch it change to a glorious red

Imbibe the deluge,

Taste the blood of life, love’s first kiss

All that we need is here, look not away


Hold me close, take my hand, relish the unknown

It will carry us forward, as your heart beats the music of our captivation

Feeding the ravenous animal that passion becomes

How it devours, breathless in its appetite

Lost only in the distance between our eyes

Unable to feel the fire’s warmth

I am an inferno, consumed as I burn

 HMM_the_twisted_path_group the_twisted_path_group_matt_horwich

The Orphan Killer 2 Bound x Blood Currently in Production The Orphan Killer 2
Bound x Blood
Currently in Production

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A House In The Clouds by R.M. Duchene

The Twisted Path Group

house in the clouds 2

Hank Anderson could hear them talking around him. They thought that he couldn’t, but he could – every word. The Illness that confined him to a hospital bed left him weak, and the struggle to move or speak had become too unbearable. But his ears – they worked just fine.

All this fighting and squabbling over a simple set of switches, he thought. Stupidity. Even if they left him hooked up to the dammed machines, it would only be a matter of hours, maybe days, until the cancer finally took him. Better to get it over with quick. Besides, he promised to meet Anne, and she’d been waiting for him for over twenty-five years. It was time – time to go to her, to be with her in their house in the clouds. That’s what she had called it, their house in the clouds.


Hank met…

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Longing by Amber McCrea

The Twisted Path Group

Longing 1

Only takes a moment

 A blink of the eye

 A beat of the heart

 Simple push of the button

 Then everything changes

paragraph spacer 2

 Out of the darkness comes light

 With the light, promise of things to come.

With every word shared

 Every good morning and good night

 Hours turn into days, days into weeks.

 The want escalates

 The need grows stronger.

 The desire to touch

 Longing to feel, to taste.

paragraph spacer 2

Aching desire burns bright

 Stronger than any before now

 Powerful, passionate, intense need and desire

 Tingles, chills down the spine.

 Heart races with the flashing of light

 Wings of the butterfly fluttering madly

 Unrelenting, growing by the day.

paragraph spacer 2

Overwhelming desire burns within

 With no means of release, needing that touch.

 However, until it comes

 Happiness remains with that single beacon of light.

longing 6


The Orphan Killer 2 Bound x Blood Coming Summer 2014 The Orphan Killer 2
Bound x Blood
Coming Summer 2014

The Orphan Killer Steelbook is available now! 

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In My Dreams

The Twisted Path Group

wonderland 1

even though

 I have never seen

 Your face

 it is with me

 each night

 in my dreams


through the fog

 I hear Your voice

 softly whispering

 and then

 growling my name

 whisking me away

 to a wonderland

 of ecstasy


I don’t want to wake up

 but there are always

 new treats

 waiting for me

 each day

 making me smile

 fueling my mind

 with unparalleled pleasures

 for dreams

 yet to come

wonderland 2



The Orphan Killer 2 Bound x Blood Coming Summer 2014 The Orphan Killer 2
Bound x Blood
Coming Summer 2014

The Orphan Killer Steelbook is available now! 

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The Visitor

The Twisted Path Group

The  sky lights up
The clouds let loose
Rain taps lightly on my roof

Soft pitter patter
Turns to a heavy pour
The wind howls heavily
It wants through my door

Thunder booms
The house shakes
Windows rattle
Could this be my fate?

Something scratches on the door
Is it the Raven?


My pulse quickens
My mouth dries
Are these tears in my eyes?

The door knob shakes
Turning to and fro
Something cries in a loud moan


The thunder claps
Lightening flashes in the sky
The lights go out
In blackness am I

My breathing comes fast
Tears stream down my face
The creak of a door
A shadow silhouette, standing in place.


The thunder claps
Lightening flashes in the sky
This silhouette holds
The reddest of eyes

My feet are like lead
I can not move
The silhouette comes closer
Bringing to me my…

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Saved By The Monster by Shayla and Courtney Philemon and Mena King

The Twisted Path Group

The following tale was written by the talented daughters of Sister Tactful Temptress. Shayla Philemon as herself, Courtney Philemon as Lily, and Mena King as Chloe. They each took turns, and wrote one line at a time. Hope you all enjoy!!!!
Also starring The Monster.


There was an abandoned cabin in the woods, where a family used to live, and in the cabin were a bunch of old pictures. They contained older generations and newer generations. There were three sisters who found the cabin. Their names were Shayla, Lily, and Chloe. They came across the cabin while walking a trail in the woods. They approached the cabin and tried to look through the windows but that didn’t work. So they tried opening the door. As they touched the door it opened a little, but then slammed shut and locked. They tried to open the window, but when they tried…

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Asylum – The End

The Twisted Path Group

*required previous reading Asylum

reaper 8

I have no idea
where I am anymore
It feels like I’ve been here
for years
Although they tell me
it’s only been a month
There is no sense of time
and my head hurts
Once in a while
I remember something
but it disappears quickly
Never long enough
to hold onto
I was in that room
That one
I don’t want to go there again
Just looking at the door
makes me afraid
shaking & crying

reaper 10
I just pissed myself
no one notices
as I just sit there
in a puddle
I can’t seem to focus
Something feels different
Someone else is here
I can’t see him
I feel him nearby
close to me
I don’t want him there
just go away!
It’s almost as if
he’s taunting me
There’s a buzzing in my head
and humming
Is he…

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The Twisted Path Group

Feel it lick at the edges
My skin a fury
The internal debate
Exquisite pain as I burn
Eyes the igniter
Surface reflecting a deeper yearning
A blowtorch to the chill, the knowing


Cravings intensify, temptation tremors
They double, treble
Blown apart as they depart
 None stand before strength
Of mind, as it faces desire
I weep in its presence
Warm to the touch, it incinerates
It destroys as it adores
Endures, never absent


Heart blackened, iridescent as the raven’s wing,
It joyfully roars, freedom rings
I drift to peaceful, peaceable dreams
Safe in the knowledge
I can overcome,
Even filled with flames
I smoulder as I turn to ash



The Orphan Killer 2 Bound x Blood Currently in Production The Orphan Killer 2
Bound x Blood
Currently in Production

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Lunatic Shufflings

The Twisted Path Group

A Death Maiden – Tortured Soul Collaboration

Lunatic shuffling like screams of the waiting waiting to die taking me high on the vine of their madness

 as they echo in the deserted halls where only the shadows dance eerie minuets on the walls

a crackling delight to the aged encumbrances coming through the sconces, lights that flower and boom


as they whistle in the sun maggots squirming in his eyes a moving stench of watery decay dripping down the face on to the insipid smile as it eat at my mind

trundling in and whispering in forgotten tongues

it capers a damned harlequin with teeth how it gnaws at my thoughts cuts so deep tearing my flesh  no way to stop it but…….. 

take it

relish it

desire it

that nurse so sweet and nubile as she cleans

how she would taste on my tongue

I wish to…

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