Your guess is as good as mine.


See picture above.

The room was plain…grey walls…an old worn out oak table and chair, a make shift twin bed complete with soiled sheets and blanket. A man sits staring  at the table holding a note in one hand, a glock 17 pistol in the other. He had found the note when he awoke in the morning, someone had apparently slipped it under the door during the night. The note didn’t make sense. I know what your thinking. How? Or better yet why was I here? Good question! Only I don’t have a clue as to who I am. Some sort of amnesia they told me, Oh and before you ask….. Nope, I have no wallet…no identification… just the clothes on my back, some rolled up twentys in my pocket and a plain green shoulder bag.

What’s in it?

Hmmmm let’s see…. a clean pair of whitey tighties, toothbrush, paste, some soap, spare t-shirt……. sorry didn’t mean to bore you with the mudane stuff…  there is one thing I suppose could be of interest, a sketch book,most of the pages are torn out though, even the cover is torn in half, the only legible thing left on it are the letters K L U……. what the hell does that mean… did I belong to the klu klux klan??? If so, was I just a member or a leader?  If that’s the case… I don’t want to know, just kill me now… I know , ironic isn’t it.

Ok ok…. sure it could be anything…. someones initials or a night club with a catchy twist like Kit Kat Klub… oh shit there’s the KKK again…. anyways the point is that there’s no way I’m going to figure out what those letters mean. You see the man raise the pistol to his temple…..his hand is steady, resolved, as time passes slowly…….the gun seems eager to expel the bullet, wanting to explode brain fragments in every direction.  Suddenly there’s a pause and the man lowers the gun….

Sorry, I know you were waiting for my climatic ending but I forgot, there’s one more thing… you see this gun in my hand, its a glock 17 and it feels real good, I mean real good, almost if it were an extention of my arm. I can twirl it on my hand like an old western gunslinger, load and reload it like a trained professional and I can hit a quarter from 40 feet out. Its a hell of a gun, one of the best pistols in fact, yeah I know about that too. This gun is so good you could freeze it in a block of ice for a week, let it thaw and then fire off a thousand rounds accurately without needing to recalibrate it…..

Huh? Yeah yeah…..I know…get on with the show and quit rambling….

He raises the firearm to his temple again…… ok, here we go……. you see the muscle on his finger begin to twitch as it slowly begins to wrap around the trigger. His hand trembles and then he stops again. Lowers the firearm and places it on the table and leaves it there

And now your thinking COWARD, right? Well that’s bullshit, and your not stupid.. everyone knows if your really serious about offing yourself, you put the gun in your mouth and point it towards your brain so you don’t miss. Put it at the temple and you risk it richocheting off your skull, leaving yourself alive and most likely a babbling idiot. So what does that make me? A little crazy, perhaps? At the very least I’m on the edge.

In all honesty though, I always wanted to see what it would feel like given the situation, you know, like those dramatic scenes you always see in the movies….. can’t really think of …oh wait…like Markinson in a Few Good Men. Yeah, awesome scene.

So what am I going to do now? Well this is New Orleans… the center of all things that have to do with voodoo and occults…. Someone is bound to have a fix for me and I know just where to start. Ok where’s that damn cell phone I was given….. oh yeah…you put it under your pillow….there it is…only one bar of battery left….good thing you didn’t wait another day or you really would have been shit out of luck. Ok menu …..contacts …….. only one contact name in here….  lol…  Resurrection…. how fitting…..<click> send…… pause ….. ringggggg…… ringggggg….. <connect>  “Hello Klu. I’m so glad you called.”


The Reliquary of The Souls CursedIncubus Klu