August 2019 – paper slayers

Choke

28 August 2019 pepa Comments 0 Comment

He had been watching her since she was very young, though it was when she turned sixteen that he started to feel how much suffering she had done onto him. Little by little, a kind of aggravation built up inside of him and he was not even sure why or how she had gotten so much under his skin.

He considered many things, mulling over her aspects with great vexation, circling around and around in his chaotic head, and every time his thoughts made a round, he had gained in his displeasure of her.

“Her voice is very unpleasant.”

“Even if I could get used to it, listening to the way she talks is painful… like putting my face against hot asphalt.”

“She laughs like a dying sheep. I can’t stand it.”

“Must she chew like that? It’s disgusting.”

As the years changed, he started to fret at the sight of her more and more. And things got worse when she had started to form her own opinions about the world. At her sixteenth birthday, she declared on her social media page that she wanted to use Ms. instead of the Miss she had been using before. It bothered him. He didn’t like it.

“Who the hell would care! Why would anyone make a post like this!”

She started to say things. She had a voice. She was outspoken and she wasn’t shy with her opinions.

He stewed. An image started to form in his mind. Ropes and bindings and a fitting end to a writhing agony. It took a hold in his dreams, deep and dark, he imagined her bound and tamed. It was strangely exciting. The thoughts kept him elated that he revisited them many times.

Though he had been following her for years, she seemed to have no notice of him. In this arrangement, he found a little secret safety. He watched and seethed in silence, and shadowed her faithfully. By day, she fueled him with frustration, with all consuming rage, and by night, she was in his fantasies, winged with dark wings, sending him to whirlwinds of emotions.

She was constantly in his mind. A choke hold he could not escape.

Seven Deadly Sins

11 August 2019 pepa Comments 0 Comment

Did the Seven Deadly Sins theme : ) They are done on ClipStudioPaint, and I call them with my own nicks for the Sins. They are:

Missy Greed
Missy Pride
Missy Glut
Missy Lazy
Missy Grr
Missy Envy
Missy Lust

lazy

Image 1 of 7

My favourite is Missy Lust cuz she’s fun to do and I looked around for other Lust illustrations and they are mostly seductive, and I don’t really relate with those representations, I think my Missy Lust is more about the feeling itself, and in person, she’s not very revealing or sexy~ IDK. That’s MY take, anyway : D

Alright, see you in our next post! Hope you are all doing well : )

A boy and his unusual boat

9 August 2019 pepa Comments 0 Comment

Having stocked up all he could onto his refrigerator, the boy checked that everything was good to go. He was finally going to go on an adventure! Excited, he pushed his unusual boat onto the sea, a big smile upon his face. The sun was high and his spirit was equally buoyant. He cast one last look at the lonesome little island and he performed a salute gravely, “Good Bye, o friend! Tis was great to have known ye!”

And suddenly, he was aware that something was off. A weight at the end of his unusual boat tipped it slightly towards one side. Alarmed, he picked up his paddle and saw that it was a young mermaid, clutching her hands onto his refrigerator!

“Hey! Away from there! You will make everything topple!”

“Can… can I come too?” The mermaid asked.

“NO! Girls aren’t cool!”

“But, ….but I have fins. It’s pretty cool.” The mermaid said. “Cooler than your legs.” She quickly added.

The boy rose up, paddle in hands, and angrily started to swing his makeshift weapon around.

“Shoo! All my food are mine! You can’t have any!”

His wild movements rocked the boat terrifically. The mermaid avoided his swings easily, laughing as she swam around his refrigerator. All of a sudden, the boy lost his footing as he tried to smack the mermaid’s grinning face, and the whole thing went belly up!

A big crash!

And the boy landed at the carpeted floor of his bedroom, with his pillows and blanket tumbled about him, one of his legs still perched at the end of his bed, fighting for purchase of what had been his refrigerator boat only moments earlier.

The boy blinked a few times before he started laughing.

“Refrigerator boat! Mermaid! What an adventure!”

The Forgotten One

8 August 2019 pepa Comments 0 Comment

I can’t remember when the house was last seen occupied. It must have been a long, long time ago. It is now surrounded by nothing but overgrowth and decay. It must have been quaint and pretty, once. But now it is an eye-sore to the rest of the neighbourhood.

It is the perfect place for a runaway like me.

I have heard that it may have been haunted, but the sky is heavy with storm clouds and I will not turn tail and run back home only after one day of leaving it!

I hop over its broken fence easily and enter through the unlocked back door. To my surprise, the inside of the house looks as if there is still someone living there. Cluttered, sure, but the kitchen has furniture, table and chairs and refrigerator. Even a small television set, sitting at the corner of its counter-tops. And there’s even coffee and mugs upon the table!

Maybe I should go back out?

As I ponder this, a flash of lightning sparks outside, followed by the loudest thunder I’ve ever heard! It is no time to be walking around in terrible weather. I brave my resolve and decided that I would spend the night here. There is no other noises in the house that I could discern so maybe it is really abandoned, only the owner had not clear out its furniture. The logic bothers me terribly, thinking of the coffee sets on the table, not to mention that the condition of the room is rather clean. As if someone has been tending to its maintenance.

I sit down gingerly, feeling miserable and scared. Time passes. Rain is now pouring heavily outside. So heavy that I cannot hear any other sounds save for the sound of water meeting surface. I become tired and sleepy. I wonder if it is okay to see if there is a bedroom I can find, to rest a little while.

I pick up my backpack and take a peek at the corridor leading away from the kitchen. There seems to be doors ahead. I start to walk down the hall and notice that it is clean here also. A bad feeling starts to rise as I continue, so I stop in the middle of the corridor. It is cold, sure, it is raining, but it is colder here. I feel there is something behind me. Someone.

I turn around slowly and she is right there, standing in the middle of the corridor, looking back at me. The forgotten one in the abandoned house!

The Fox Spirit in the Woods

7 August 2019 pepa Comments 0 Comment

A farmer boy was sent out to gather woods for his family and, being a boy, he spent way too much time playing when he should have been working. There were many interesting animals, all the sights and sounds! The birds and the insects! The way the branches moved, the way the leaves spoke… Before the boy knew it, it was getting dark. He scrambled and gathered as many dry branches he could find and made his way home, but after the sun’s gone, the woods had changed. All the paths were unfamiliar and strange. He was starting to feel lost when suddenly, the boy found himself before the Fox Spirit.

The Fox Spirit said, “Hello, Boy. Why don’t you stay with me here in the woods, instead? You can play to your heart’s contents! All the time! For ALL time.”

The Boy said, “Listen here, I need to get these dry woods home. They need it for cooking and making fire and they are waiting for me.”

“They will make fire some other way. Would they not?”

“I see that you don’t understand.” The Boy replied. “I am sorry.”

The Fox Spirit cocked its head. “What are you sorry for? What don’t I understand?”

“I see that you don’t understand what it feels like when you’ve got people waiting on you. I am sorry for that.” The Boy replied, earnestly.

The Fox Spirit considered this quietly, and then it laughed.

“Be a good boy, or be good at it.” The Fox Spirit patted the boy’s head before it let the boy go on his merry way back home.

The Boy Who Lives

5 August 2019 pepa Comments 0 Comment

The Boy who Lives walked through the winter streets, not quite aware of the snow that’s falling gently everywhere. He was an unassuming boy, seemingly stowed away with his private thoughts, with his face half buried in a large, thick scarf that was wound twice or thrice around his neck. The streets were bustling, happy, full with life and going-ons, but the boy carried with him a strange air of serenity and quiet.

A book store showed a resplendent display of special package for Harry Potter books. The Boy who Lives caught a sight of this and stopped at his tracks. He smiled. He reached out to touch one of the books and flicked the pages through. The words flew from the printed ink into his softly mouthing lips: “Harry Potter, the Boy who Lived.”

He sighed, still smiling tenderly, and placed the book back onto the stack. Another customer noticed and struck up a conversation, “Already owned a copy?”

The Boy turned to regard this person and replied, “Yes.” When he did this, out of a sense of societal propriety, he lifted his face up from the thick scarf to address the person and for a split second, a glimpse of scarlet was visible from the boy’s smile. The other customer felt the strange and sudden unease and hurried along, away from the Boy who Lives.

The Boy who Lives meandered back into the night’s streets, in search for who know what it was that would keep him alive. Forever.

Oni

5 August 2019 pepa Comments 0 Comment

The man who wore a mask who sometimes appeared at the far end of the backyard of my grandmother’s house in the village never spoke a word to me. He was unnerving at first but over time, I found his appearances familiar. Friendly, even. By the time I was in my teenager years, I was happy to wave at him when I saw him. He never returned the gesture, but that was fine with me. I found most people daunting, I was always afraid that they would not like me… somehow.

Much later on, grandmother had to sell her house and it was decided that she would move in with us. She wasn’t quite able to live by herself any more, and I was tasked to help her move. We packed everything into boxes. All of her things. Her life. Grandmother held the urn that held my grandfather’s ash tightly as she watched me work. Her eyes were quiet and sad. But yet, still very alert and strong-willed. I hugged her gently. Her joints and bones were giving her endless pain.

After the movers came and went with all the boxes and the furniture, the house was finally empty. We looked around one last time and then we left. As we passed through the backyard, I saw the man with the mask and by a force of habit, I waved at him. This time, he nodded back before he turned away.

Grandmother, who was walking slowly behind me, chuckled softly.

“Do you know him, grandmother?” I asked.

She smiled and nodded. “He’s been looking after me for a very long time. I suppose he’s happy now that you’re here for this old bones.”

I helped her into the car and we drove off. Quietly, I wonder if he would be looking after me, too, when one day in my old age I return to this place.