The Cold Bite of Autumn

Dead wheels and lifeless bodies lay curled around an old oak tree.

Crisp October air bit at Cheryl's throat as she staggered down the country road. The Milky Way shot silent stares at her as the heels of her shoes clicked erratically down the asphalt. Puffs of breath hung behind her like tiny clouds, slowly dissipating into oblivion.

One moment they'd been laughing, whooping it up at Ted's expense. In a blink of her eye, grim visages of death accused her of murder. All three men splayed around the car like discarded marionettes, lifelines cut by callous disregard for good sense.

Why death skipped over her screamed of mystery or fate's cruel sentence. Shock permeated her senses as she placed one foot in front of the other. Each step took patience and care as something felt broken. Maybe her ankle, maybe her leg, the pain when she placed her left foot to the road played pinball throughout her body.

Dull light from a rickety front porch competed with the heavens for attention. Cheryl focused her eyes as much as possible on that lonely bulb. If she ever wanted to pray, this moment begged for it, but she managed only a low, guttural keening.

Perhaps fate desired that she live. After all, she tried her best to kill them all, including herself. Yet, she crawled from the wreckage and struck out for life. If another life awaited her, surely these three men would seek her out, if for no other reason than to find out - why?

This peice of fiction brought to you by:

DarkThorn King

To read more, check out DarkThorn's blog by clicking on his name in the links section

Redneckah's Take

Ya'll ain't telling it right at all. 

First off, Mr. Bloodtrail wasn't drinking no scotch.  No sir.  Scotch is way too classy, and we all know Mr. Bloodtrail's a sleezy, no-good low-life who'd sellout his own mother for a quick buck.  Mr. Bloodtrail wans't drinking nothing—he pulls shit like slicing up people who're minding their own business when he's stone-cold sober.  Imagine what he's like after a few swigs of whisky (and not the good kind, neither—we're talking the bottom shelf, $9.99 party handlers of the stuff).

Now Darkthorn, he's a mess.  Plain and simple.  Always bitching and moaning about something or other.  Can't count on him to pose long enough for a picture without crumbling into a puddle of snotty tears.  I swear you look at him sideways and he's gotta go scribble a poem about you done broke his heart. 

Panthera, as you can likely guess, is just a floozy.  Uses tequila as an excuse for other people to go and lick her wherever they please.  I happen to know her favorite spot is on the bottom of her foot, but she'll take a tongue just about anywheres. 

So there ya go.  I'm the only one who's got her head screwed on straight in the bunch.  But I don't let that bother me none.  Being with these Rogues is kinda like a family reunion for me.  Lotsa hollering, drinking and someone usually winds up with a broken jaw.  That's how we do.  Take it or leave it.

-Redneckah

My Boys, My Boys

Panthera here, Boys, boys, boys, and their "wild imaginations", Listen up now cause I'm only gonna say it once so follow along. Yes, Tequila is a friend of mine and I always have an endless supply of limes, I'm always looking for a nice belly button, it's a fetish of mine. We know Bloodtrail prefers the "loose" women and "cheap' scotch and can never follow directions, Bless his pea pickin heart. Darkthorn he plays his part of being our fearless leader but he really prefers a woman's strong hand up side his head, he likes it rough. Maybe some day he'll show you his collection of cuffs, moving on to Redneka, ah ,Redneka his issues, she jabbers on about opening an orphanage Lord ,if she'd lay off the Pills, them little pink one's really get her loopy! She's got us getting the funds up so she can save the world! Please, The world? how about saving ourselves first. We all know that the Rogues are just that, Rogues, misfits, misguided, drunken drugged up , delusional, players! yes, dear even me, Major player, love em', leave'em, that's my motto, so many men so little time. you know....My boys amuse me from time to time and play their parts to please the Panthera. These boys will go far. They own stock in the brewery, so yes, they will go far. The Rogues Including myself have a purpose ,Paint it up, party it up, Holler loud, Now that's Rogue style, hop on in the water's just fine...................

Infamous Photo Shoot

BloodTrail has issues. We Rogues know it. Now the world knows it. While there was some carousing in the streets and some blood was spilled, BloodTrail missed most of it trying to empty his bladder of all the J&B he'd guzzled all morning.

Let's be real here - scotch first thing in the morning? BloodTrail has a way about him that leaves regular folks quaking in their shoes, and that's as it should be. He's dangerous. But he also sees this world through lenses that are sorely damaged.

Panthera and Rednekah were their usual beautiful selves, whooping it up and having a grand ol' time. It wasn't until that photographer made a pass at Panthera that things got a bit ugly. It wasn't BloodTrail that cut him up either. Panthera took care of her own light work.

Scotch in the morning can do this to a person. We love him though. Yes, he can be sick and demented, but he's never ever boring. In fact, his insanity is one of his redeeming characteristics. Word to the wise? Only a Rogue gets to speak this way about him. Anyone else has to deal with him personally.

And we won't stop him!

D.P. DarkThorn
http://www.dreadpiratedarkthorn.blogspot.com/

Mr. Bloodtrail Reflects on the Infamous Rogues’ Photo Shoot

This afternoon, I was in the middle of cleaning my guns, sharpening my knives, and organizing my restraints—tools necessary for me to develop some sharp and polished prose for my fans—when I reflected upon Friday's photo shoot. It's a wonder that we got such a good photo out of it, and I'll tell you why. I got there too early, so I had to "kill" some time. After washing the blood off my hands, I waited around until the remaining Rogues showed up late, drunk, and high. This perturbed me, since I am the consummate professional. Panthera didn't stick around for long; she headed off towards St. George Street with a bottle of tequila in each hand offering body shots to complete strangers, men and women. When she returned, she was crawling around on all fours and growling like a lioness. Rednekah, who could barely stand up at this point, started peeing in one of the empty Jack Daniels bottles used as props for the pictures. Then she totally forgot and thought she was holding a half-full bottle of Jack, and downed the whole goddamn thing. "Best fuckin' drink I've had in my whole life," she said before smashing the empty bottle over my head. When I came to, we somehow got into costume and posed long enough to get some pictures taken. Shortly thereafter, DarkThorn was up on the roof of the building sobbing about love and loss and finding things. About darkness and prickly things, before screaming, "I am a golden god!" He threatened to jump, but instead passed out and fell off the roof. Fortunately, a female student from Flagler College stood below and broke his fall. He's fine—she's in the hospital. By then, I was carving up the photog nice and ugly with my favorite butcher's knife, because I was getting bored and, quite frankly, it's what I do best. The other Rogues may tell you it happened differently—of course they will; they're embarrassed as shit—but I'm telling you this is how it all went down. Of course, I was high on acid the whole time. Cordially Yours, Mr. Bloodtrail

My Appearance

Allow me to introduce myself , Names Tracy Panthera ,

Heart of the Rogues ,honored to be part of such a " multi-talented group of Writers,

 and when I say multi-talented, I mean """Multi-talented!" Wink..

.We know you'll just love sharing our journey , through our eyes.....

Hang on Boys* gonna be WILD*

Tracy Panthera

 

The Rogues Ride Again!

Hello readers,

This post is a test of a cool app that Blogger offers. IF successful, you will be treated with posts from each of the Rogues as we wend our way through the incredible world of creative writing. You will not be disappointed when you come here. Our content will be fresh, crisp and entertaining. We have arrived. Our next step is to let the party know!

Coming soon: The Rogues Gallery Writer photo shoot!

D.P. DarkThorn
author@michaelrayking.com