Eldritch & Ether
Beautiful, heartfelt poetry from international poets
Tag Archive for: S Jade Path
Liar, Liar
by S. Jade Path
Frantically pulling against her bonds, Halle pleaded, “Please. Please, no.” Her voice jumped an octave, “Why are you doing this?”
“Why?” I crooned, grinning beneath the Purge mask.
I splashed petrol around her, watched it soaked into the scattered books—kindling for her pyre. I stepped close, and Halle’s panic-filled struggles intensified.
I grabbed her head, pushed torn pages and rags into her mouth, held them in place with phone cords.
Then I whispered, “Liar, liar.”
Her eyes, filling with recognition and guilt, turned to horror as my match fell.
Liar, liar pants on fire. Hanging by a telephone wire!
S. Jade Path
S. Jade Path is a fledgling author of short fiction, and a prolific creator of dark poetry. She has had a life-long obsession with crawling into the depths of the psyche and forging shadows into words. Her work parallels this penchant for delving into the fantastical and strolling amongst demons.
Witching Hour
by S. Jade Path
The veil is always thinnest on Samhain.
Kylie cast her spell with trembling fingers, before stepping through the fluttering, gossamer threads and into a world of glittering wonder.
Just a quick peek can’t hurt, she thought.
***
Distantly, sonorous chimes announced the passing of midnight. The stars winked out as one, and with a snap, the veil turned to rubber.
Kylie pushed at the barrier with her foot. It gave as it always did, bouncing back as soon as her foot moved. She flopped against the wall, a scream of frustration echoing around the opulent room—now her gilded cage.
S. Jade Path
Jade Path is a fledgling author of short fiction, and a prolific creator of dark poetry. She has had a life-long obsession with crawling into the depths of the psyche and forging shadows into words. Her work parallels this penchant for delving into the fantastical and strolling amongst demons. Follow S. Jade Path on Facebook
Dared
by S. Jade Path
Her friends had dared her to enter the ward. She was young, brash, invincible—foolish. Her breath chuffed out. Teenage pride.
The wind wended through the shattered halls; a remnant of laughter, and a memory of screams.
A shriek of tortured metal and the scent of old blood rise into the air where her hands settled on one of the bed frames rusting in the gloaming.
Her eyes skimmed the scarred floors, littered with detritus.
In the corner, empty liquor bottles surround a wilted mattress. Mostly hidden by a shred of faded blue denim, her skull stares back at her.
S. Jade Path
S. Jade Path is a fledgling author of small fiction and a prolific creator of dark poetry. She has had a life-long obsession with crawling into the depths of the psyche and forging shadows into words. Her work parallels this penchant for delving into the fantastical and strolling amongst demons. https://www.facebook.com/SJadePath
Remembrance
by S Jade Path
Remembrance Tech’s tour group milled about. Servers wove smoothly between, offering golden, sparkling wines. The tour wouldn’t begin until the last drop was licked from their lips—but they didn’t know that.
While the wine did its work, Clio chatted with several clients, subtly priming.
Walk the facility, show off the memory extractors, storage options—a plash of something showy with nitrogen; the tech sold itself.
The clients sipped glasses of oblivion, signing away their memories, paying for the privilege.
Smiling, Clio tapped out a text.
Looking at her phone, Mnemosyne laughed. Rising, a new kind of Titan.
S Jade Path
S Jade Path is a fledgling author of small fiction and a prolific creator of dark poetry. She has had a life-long obsession with crawling into the depths of the psyche and forging shadows into words. Her work parallels this penchant for delving into the fantastical and strolling amongst demons. Follow her on Facebook: SJadePath
Cool Kids
by S Jade Path
Ren stood on the gore-slicked dancefloor, blood sluicing down her armour. Dancing holograms still gyrating in the wet smears, and the pounding music seemingly quiet in the absence of screams.
Staring, smiling, at what remained of the Syndicate Children—the Cool Kids.
They had made me, saved me, she sneered at that thought. They had taken her dead, junkie’s body, fused armour-scale tech to it, trained it to kill.
Made her into this abomination.
***
Ren sat on a ledge, 172 floors above the street, combat boots swinging.
Whispering, “Cool Kids never sleep.”
Leaning forward, she pushed off.
Falling—finally—to sleep.
S Jade Path
S Jade Path is a fledgling author of small fiction and a prolific creator of dark poetry. She has had a life-long obsession with crawling into the depths of the psyche and forging shadows into words. Her work parallels this penchant for delving into the fantastical and strolling amongst demons. Follow her on Facebook: SJadePath