OF LADY HANNAH CADAVER

The Tube

September 27, 2017

... So there I was at the train station and this guy comes up to me with a yellow tube.  He's wearing a green Dr Evil suit - burgundy pinstripes.

He looks at the tube and puts his fingers into the top end.  With his left hand, he lets go of the tube and reaches out for your right gloved hand.

I hold out my hand to his.  With my right I move towards the tube.  A slow, long, movement.  Kind of graceful even if I do say so myself!

You reach for the tube, and he places the bottom in your hand.  His fingers are still inside.

You remove your glove and place your hand over the uncovered, bottom end of the tube.  

Something with warm, downlike skin or fur moves gently.  It tickles just a little.
I can feel myself smiling as I put my fingers inside and tickle back, wiggling my fingers.  Somehow, I know this makes the tube happy.

A gentle tugging encourages your hand in further and a gentler still suction begins at your fingertips.
You move your hand in just a little further still and notice that the spot where one finger tickles becomes moist.

The tugging suction continues as you push your hand into the tube.  Had you even noticed?  Your curiosity is as plane as the broad smile on your face.  Your skin becomes redder in colour as the first trickle runs down the underside of your hand and drips lightly onto the ground.  You don't appear to give a shit.

My entire hand is covered in a warm, moist goop.  The down feels damp but warm and soft against my skin.  In all directions my skin is tugged, pulled, sucked and tickled.

The moist goop appears to become thicker and thicker by the moment. It no longer tickles and drips from your hand, but oozes and moves downwards falling from your elbow to your feet.  Your skin becomes darker.

My hand is completely inside the tube along with my wrist.  I've noidea when that happened!
How long have my eyes been shut?

I open my eyes and am distracted by the yellow of the tube.  I shut them again.  Warm.
I open them again, partially and flutter my eyelids.  Looking at the tube I have a sudden need to see what is inside.  But just as I do, my hand is pulled further in ... and my eyes shut again ... just for a moment ...

You had looked at the tube and then succumbed ... 
for quite some time.

When I opened my eyes next, the fascination brought on by my curiosity overwhelmed me.  I moved my right had, but the guy squeezed it before I could move from his grasp.  I looked to his face and saw his pale skin.  Paler than before.  His eyes a yellow-green.
He smiled and so I squeezed his hand back as a silent "thank you".

Again, I looked to the tube.  My arm was pulled in further and st as I would have shut my eyes, I instead moved my right hand to reach for the tube.

You move to release your grasp from the left hand.  Yours is grasped tightly.  You squeeze back which makes it easier to control you as you try to reach for the tube again.

My hand is held tightly.  Too tightly.  I can not reach the tube.  I can not release myself from his grip!

I look to his face and see the same smile.  My other arm feels the same pulse.  But I need to see it.
Squirming and struggling, I pulled until my hand "slipped" from my own glove.  My finger were crushed but somehow it did not register!

I reached for the tube and just as I was to begin clawing through it, he reached out his hand, placed my glove in mine.

You have the glove back and watch the tube as it is tapped twice.  That simple.
It springs open and you see your hand is covered in syringes.  Your wrist, your arm.

At the end of each is a tube reaching upwards to his finger tips As he wiggles them, I feel a pulsing in my hand.  The tubes are filled with a deep, bright-red liquid.  My veins look ready to burst.  My skin looks dark, almost burned.

The down is gone.  You never got to see any.  As you look up into his face, you see me with that same smile.

... so yeah, I did the tube thing, but then his train came so he pulls all the syringes out, quick as lightening, just like that an' hops on the train.

I was most disconcerted I can tell you!

Written 2003-05-05

So slowly I feel the coolness

September 27, 2017

So slowly I feel the coolness
Drop onto my uncovered arms.
Gradually, I gather myself
Into my dress
As I watch outside my door.
Confusion travels from untinted lips
Into my ears, and my eyes
Watch the shadows creep accross
Leaves towards her arms.
Sometimes I think she might embrace them.
But she never does.

Written 1996-08-28

Joe Mongrel

September 27, 2017

Clear water slips
Between your teeth
Like the chalk
Within her veins
Opal miners
Loves lasting remains
Pieced together in a langiud
For a moment I thought I saw
The sun
Shine from your fingertips
And the strings pluck
From soul and heart
To sound, to ears
To crawl back within
An attentive

Only clear, understanding remains
As you breath yourself

Written 2002-04-01

Rebranding and Web Design

September 27, 2017

Rebranding and web design are currently underway. 

As exciting as these may be, they take a great deal of time and effort.

Whilst this continues, more of Lady Hannah Cadaver's writings will be uploaded to this section.

The Faceless

May 29, 2017

She made a delivery to an office without a view.  The man who took the package was unrecognisable.  She tried to introduce herself but every time she tried, she failed.  Recognising her frustration, he took her to a mirror where she saw she had no face.  He then showed her a wall of glass that contained many faces and told her she would one day get to choose one.

She thought "How do I speak"?  He replied "Not all voices are verbal".
She wondered "How do I see"?  He said "You do not need to see, in order to know".
She asked "Can I choose any of the faces?  Can I be beautiful?"  
He turned her towards him "You can have any face you like.  It can not make you beautiful.  It can not make you ugly.  Your face will give you personality, not character." 

She left, wondering what the hell her name was.


Sheriff of Zombie Town

May 1, 2014

Awoke from dreams she was the sheriff of Zombie Town, which was set up by those who's loved ones had become zombies and could not bare to dispose of/ dispatch them.

We also had a research center set up.  Trials of complete blood transfusions had begun.

Discussions on how long we could realistically feed and house the zombies were underway.  All the staff had become vegetarian and we stopped questioning the deliveries of brains a long time ago.  We had developed dark jokes to cope with the deliveries of animals the families of the zombies would send.  Occasionally, we would find someone who had been bitten but had not yet turned, tied to our front gates.

In order to fund it, we had various forms of sports events for both the unbitten and the undead.  One was shot-put, using brains that would land into a field of zombies.  Another, was the obstacle course that was judged upon maximum difficulty that a zombie could still complete.

It is not a nightmare if you wake up giggling.

- Written 2014-05-01


The minefield crashed into a bus full of vegan zombies.

March 26, 2014

The minefield crashed into a bus full of vegan zombies.  

It fled and climbed to the top of a mountain, dared to look down and saw that all that was destroyed on the way up, had become beautiful as a result.  The minefield turned to look down the other side of the mountain.  Would it climb back down or would it use its own force to create a slide?  The slide idea, did seem like a lot more fun but as it prepared to do so, it spied a single dandelion.  
The dandelion blossomed to be noticed and made the minefield a tea from its roots before creating a song that burst it into the air.

The journey back down took on new meaning to the minefield.  It blew itself into the sky so its many pieces could catch the seeds in their mouths.  In legion, they made wishes from the seeds and blew them back out upon the mountain.  

Dandelion seeds are produced without pollination.  Pure in their immaculate conception, they are genetically identical to their parent.  They took root, made tea, sang and burst over and over again.  They created infinite wishes.

The minefield legion returned as one, to the scene where it had left the bus.  It put wishes in the mouths, ears and eyes of the vegan zombies.  As the wishes began to bloom, the minefield was sure it saw a zombie smile.  The true lust of a zombie is after all, not to remain vegan.

The zombies began using the same method of immaculate conception to multiply and began their own path of destruction up the side of the mountain.  
They cared not for tea, turned the songs into screams and devoured every wish they could, along the way. 

They slid down the other side.

The carnage had barely begun and it was exquisite...

- Written 2014-03-26

A daily occurrence between her and I

March 17, 2014

A daily occurrence between her and I
Unspoken, it was our way
She would sit or stand.
I would watch her long neck and shoulders
Wishing I were at liberty to touch just once
To see if her skin felt like perfume
Although I had lost my sense of smell years ago
Oh how she made me want to remember.
And closing my eyes, I would remember.
Although I never saw her smile,
She was more lovely than the cruelty of perfection.

- Writen 2014-03-17

Stands in the epicentre of a whirlwind

March 5, 2014

Stands in the epicentre of a whirlwind.
Calm whilst everything around, pirouettes
She once felt her finger
Flick the eye of a walker
It stained her to tears
And yet and yet
She stands still in the centre of pirouettes
- Written 2014-03-05


Her Room Was A Shambles, Her Eyes Were A Mess.

February 26, 2014

Her room was a shambles, her eyes were a mess.  The Mona Lisa lay at her feet, yet again.  
She wore razor blades around her neck.
His belt was made of papyrus and he smelled like oaked strawberries.  The leather had taken up smoking again.  He dared not tell his mother.
The TV was on a frozen setting just to keep the buzzing sound.  It has not heard from anyone.  At least not since last Tuesday.
The gate is adorned with foul wishes, filled with secrets.  It remembers no names.  It remembers many faces.
Her safety films sit by the fridge and scream "Get me out of here."  She opens the door and disappears.
He looks to replace a bulb but does not know How many of him it will take.  No-one ever explained the riddle.
The gate is always closed but keeps no-one in nor out.  Not him.  Not her.  Not you.  Not I.  It never tires enough to sleep.
And so they watch.  And so they wait.  And so they sigh.
- Written 2014-02-26


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