It must have been a demon who dreamed up a life regarded with male presumption. From the prescribed stoicism placed on a first born son, to the stifling collar of the school uniform, every moment was one of irritation. Yet I followed the path of least resistance, for no other reason than to lessen the blow. To conform was to evade conflict until such time as it was necessary.

It was raining. The rain was pouring down on the woods on both sides of the road. It was also pouring down on the road she was following, alongside with the wind, giving her a hard time to make her way up. She could only hope that this was nothing more than the occasional German summer storm that would not last for much longer than one or two hours. Although she assumed it was early afternoon, it seemed like dusk, and the rain being blown into her face made it even more difficult to spot any beings that might be closing in to her.

The world as we know it may be changed rather soon by a devastated scientist.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: A while ago I set about to write an action/horror magical girl story with some Tokyo trans sukeban (read: girl gang) called "The Hellbound Dolls." This vignette follows one of the Dolls, Akane, whose ultimate struggle is to realize she's worthy of love. This installment does not have a happy ending, so read at your own peril.

* * * *

Edited By: Dave

Edited By: Dave

It seemed to list an audition site in Houston. Deciding this was too good to be true he decided to make the drive down. Maybe he would be able to see a free performance but if not he still wouldn't mind paying. Airfare plus the cost of tickets would be much more expensive in New York or LA, not to mention the cost of a hotel room or hostel.

He swore when first watching the video there were seven of them, but after watching it again there seemed to only be 5 or 6.

I’m screaming from under the covers of my bed again. My shriek pains my own ears. It's a shriek that chills the blood. I rarely sleep at night. When I do, the lights are 'on'. I must have fallen asleep in the afternoon. The darkness and silence envelop me and fill me with fear. I can feel him in the room. Feel his presence. It’s like he’s watching me. Stalking me. Celia rushes into my room. Mom’s working late again. My younger sister pulls me into her arms. I tremble with fear. I didn’t use to be this way. This—afraid. Ever since… Him… His ghost haunts me. It’s been a year since we were rescued. Celia now dwarfs me. She’s bigger and now she’s my protector. I begin to sob as all of the fear melts with Celia’s presence. “Shhh. I’m here. Shhh. He can’t hurt you anymore." All the treatment and therapist in the world can’t free me from him. Even in death, he assaults me.

I calm down bit more, “I’m so sorry.” Her apology takes me back to our captivity. Celia was the lucky one. She was left unharmed… At least physically. She hugs me tighter, hoping to squeeze the memory from my soul. It just brings it to the surface…

Mark Patterson has had a terrible time with nightmares all his life. On his thirtieth birthday he received a cold case that alters his life forever.

The epilogue of the Designer Children novel

Credit: The song "Nuttin' for Christmas" was by Sid Tepper and Roy Bennett.

I wrote the first draft of this story eight or nine years ago, in a severely depressed, anxious, and/or furious mood. (I don't remember which and why, now.) I was recently motivated to revise this and finish it up. The first SRU story (Bill Hart's "A Strangeness at the Frat House") was written in 1996, so this could be considered a 21th anniversary homage to SRU, celebrating SRU's coming of legal age (to consume alcohol).

James MacBeth has had it up to here with his son Jeff. He encounters SRU; maybe they might help him with his son.