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My Bad Romance: My First Kiss

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It was a typical morning in my seventh-grade life. I’ve never been a fan of math, especially since that year I had begun Pre-Algebra. But the only thing that made that class bearable was the fact that the boy I had a huge crush on since sixth grade sat right in front of me in class. Since we were friends, I’d often find any excuse to talk to him. I’d ask him about movies. How the Chicago Bulls were doing that season (he was a huge fan and always wore a Chicago Bulls cap, strictly backward as per the ‘90s cap etiquette for cool kids).

Our history was somewhat complicated. As in the year before I had given him a Valentine’s Day card that I had made and written a poem that went along these lines:


Nobody knows of my feelings for you,
I keep them hidden, clear out of view.
But the tracks in the snow may give a clue,
But nobody knows of my love for you.


Now my grand romantic gesture would’ve been all fine and dandy if my best friend at the time hadn’t started dating my crush that week of Valentine’s. Our classes had boxes for Valentine’s cards, and I had placed mine in the box on a Monday, my best friend had gotten with the said boy on a Wednesday. Valentine’s fell on a Friday, so now you can see my dilemma. Drama-ensued for a while because of that, until things cleared up (hey, it’s not MY fault they got together after I had posted the card!).


But back to that day in Pre-Al.


It was Halloween, my favorite holiday. All I could think about was how I was going to go Trick-Or-Treating that night (something that truly defied my social group of “pretty popular girls” cause that was seen as “childish” cause ya know when you’re twelve and in a popular group, you need to act like you’re fifteen). This probably explains why I ended up leaving said group, which meant also leaving behind my best friend (and also the most popular girl in seventh grade) which was social status suicide on my part, but I was a rebel!


But I digress.


I was there getting settled in my seat, trying to pretend I knew what was going on (cause ya know, I refused to wear my glasses at the time, which meant that I couldn’t see a thing written on the board and I’m actually surprised I managed to earn B’s in math without ever seeing how the teacher worked out the problems).


Crush Boy sat down and I was doodling on my notebook when he turned around and flashed me his usual charming smile saying, “Happy Halloween!” And then and there just kissed me.


This is where time kind of stopped for me.


My heart was hammering so hard against my chest I was certain that I was going to have a coronary right then and there. My breath caught in my throat, and my cheeks flushed in the most horrendous way (being pale sucks).
“Woo-hoo!” One guy cheered, which pulled me out of the moment and was reminded that I was still in class.


In a math class that also had my best friend (and Crush Boy’s ex-girlfriend) sitting only a few rows over.  I looked over in her direction, and if I weren’t so near-sighted, I’m certain I could see her glaring.


Despite that kiss being simple (we were twelve and in class!), the feelings of euphoria that I experienced from it were something I chased for years, attempting so desperately to feel that lightheaded and blissful. And because this is me, no, Crush Boy and I didn’t have a short-term happy ending. We never dated. Despite him always showing a strange fascination with me, but always dating other girls instead. Later that year I moved, and on my last day of school, he kissed me again (this time after our English). He came up behind me and just planted his lips on me and then said, “Good luck at your new school.” I could barely murmur a reply back before he was already gone, rushing to his final class.


I never saw or heard from him after that day.


Maybe, some people are just meant to be memories.

By: Azzurra Nox

Review: Juice Beauty Phyto-Pigments Liquid Lip in Gwenyth

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By now, we all know about Gwenyth Paltrow’s lifestyle blog Goop. Well now, she also has a beauty brand called Juice Beauty to go along with the blog. I’m not particularly crazy about the blog Goop (because some of the stuff on there is either ridiculous or downright dangerous/not healthy at all). But being a makeup addict, I was thrilled to find this in my Allure Beauty Box for February, although I had no high expectation cause I’m very picky when it comes to liquid lipsticks. This liquid lipstick promises to look shiny like a gloss, but without the sticky effect. The shade is named after the creative director of the makeup (ahem Paltrow) and the colour is reminiscent of the ’90s berry hues that were on everyone’s lips think Courtney Love and Courtney Cox back in the day, (unless you were wearing the matte browns instead).

What It Is: Liquid Lipstick

What It Does: Provides shine and colour to lips.

Verdict: The moment I opened up the tube and noticed how sheer the formula was I knew that I wasn’t going to be a fan. And sure enough, after wearing it for six hours, this liquid lipstick did what most lipglosses do, it BLED and it somewhat faded. Now, I know many people prefer moisturizing lipsticks and don’t care if they have to reapply (which in that case, this may be the perfect lipstick for you), however, I expect a lipstick to NOT budge once I apply it (maybe I’ve gotten spoiled ever since using Jeffree Star’s liquid lipstick where it won’t budge, smudge, or bleed for ten+hours). Also, I’m not really a fan of berry colours either. Or at least, they’re pretty to look at, but for some reason never look so amazing on me (maybe cause berry tones are made for cool skintones and although I’m pale, I have a warm skintone). But if you’re looking for a high-shine glossy lipstick, then this may do the trick for you. The formula is luxurious and the colour is vibrant, so it’s got that going for it. It just isn’t the sort of liquid lipstick I prefer.

Price: $24

Where To Buy It: Juicebeauty.com

By: Azzurra Nox

*swatch of the shade Gwenyth below

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Review: Medusa’s Makeup Witch Lash Mascara

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It’s been several years now that I’ve been trying to primarily use Vegan cosmetics. At the moment I’m really digging Medusa’s Makeup, cause not only is it vegan, but it’s also cruelty-free, and crazily edgy. This makeup has attitude and wearing it gives you a boost akin to wearing rock star stiletto boots.

What It Is: A lengthening and volumizing mascara

What It Does: This mascara not only does it lengthen lashes, and gives you an incredible boost, but the flexible rubber brush enables you to separate lashes—say goodbye to clumpy lashes forever!

Verdict: To say that I’m in love with it would be quite the understatement, as I am PASSIONATELY in love with this mascara! So much so, that this is my go-to mascara on a daily basis for the past four months! And since this brand is all about giving an edge to everything they do, this mascara not only comes in Black, but also in Electric Blue and Twilight (a navy shade). Apart from lengthening, volumizing, and separating lashes, this mascara also lasts ALL DAY without every smudging or budging or anything at all! It stays immaculate and perfect all day! But the removal is also very easy, any eyemakeup remover will do and you don’t have to rub it off as it happens with so many mascaras, so that’s always a bonus! If you can’t tell, I simply love this product and will most repurchase (I initially received this product in one of my Medusa’s Makeup monthly subscription boxes).

Price: $12

Where To Buy It: https://medusasmakeup.com/collections/mascara

By: Azzurra Nox

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Skincare: These five fruits will give you radiant skin!

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*Foundation & powder-free skin.

Ever wonder why many vegetarians or vegans have amazing, glowing skin? Apart from the fact that they aren’t consuming meat, the major reason is that they’re eating lots of FRUITS!

But are all fruits created equal, and which ones are you better off eating? Well, different fruits target different skin issues as well as provide different sorts of vitamins, so your best bet is to eat a variety of fruits within a week. But to make things easier for you, here are the top five best fruits for healthy skin and what benefits you may reap from consuming them!

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Apple:

The malic acid found in apples promotes firm, youthful skin. There’s a reason why the famous saying states, “An apple a day, keeps the doctor away!” In this case, eating apples will surely keep you away from having to visit a dermatologist. Not to mention that the fibers found in apples, helps promote bowel movements, which leads to clearer skin because you’re getting rid of toxins.

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Avocado:

This fruit is rich in biotin, Vitamin E, and promotes cell regeneration and growth. Biotin helps nails and hair grow faster. You can reap benefits from this fruit either by eating it or used topically (in the form of face masks).

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Banana:

Rich in potassium and helps in keeping skin moisturized and hydrated. Bananas also contain skin-healthy nutrients, such as Vitamin A, B, and E. It also helps with keeping the elasticity of skin, prevents premature aging, and fades dark spots.

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Kiwi:

This fruit is packed with high doses of Vitamin C, and we all know that Vitamin C is a skin-friendly vitamin (in helping to keep skin radiant and acne-free!). Kiwis contain more Vitamin C than oranges, so you’re better off choosing this fruit as your source of Vitamin C than others.

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Strawberries:

Anti-oxidant and prevents wrinkle formation. Like kiwis, this fruit also contains a high dose of Vitamin C, but unlike kiwis, strawberries also contain salicylic acid (you may have heard this acid being used in acne treatments). What this means, is that it helps prevent pores from getting clogged and stops pimples from forming in the first place! Strawberries also contain an anti-oxidant called ellagic acid, which studies have proven that it helps prevent the destruction of collagen (meaning fewer wrinkles!) and it also acts as a shield against UV damage (but that doesn’t mean you should skip out on applying sunscreen, that is always a must!).

Try consuming at least one serving or two of each of these fruits once a week, and you’ll soon notice the difference in your skin! Not to mention that they’re a healthier snack option if like me you love sweets but are trying to avoid processed sugars. So give your skin a break, and eat your way to radiant, beautiful skin!

 

By: Azzurra Nox

Short Story: Animortis Part III

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zombie2Charlie turned his head and spotted the shotgun, rattling unattended in the farthest corner of the carriage floor. He still had one more shot. Gathering his strength, he twisted his shoulders, released his right hand on the girl’s throat and reached for the gun. It wobbled inches from his extended fingertips. He stretched further. The rear of the carriage lurched downward, the broken axel moments from failing. Feeling his left hold falter, Charlie abandoned his efforts and pushed back on her throat again. Desperation mounting, his eyes cut to Baumgart. The Earl remained incapacitated.

The girl wrapped her cold, palms around the back of Charlie’s neck, pulling him closer to her salivating mouth. Glassy, green eyes roved in their sockets. She screeched like a wild animal and snapped her broken, jagged teeth inches from his face. There was nothing human left in this shell of a girl. With a strike of dread in his heart, Charlie realized they were an even match of strength.

“Charles?”

Charlie looked down to his feet as Baumgart blinked back to life.
“My lord!” he strained against the girl.
Distracted, the girl whipped her head back to the Earl.

Charlie bent a leg between him and the girl and kicked her away. She fell back onto her minced knees. With all his force, Charlie brought up his right leg and delivered a smart boot to her face. Blood squirted out in all directions from under the sole of his shoe, accompanied by a chilling crack. The girl’s head recoiled and she grunted from the impact, arms spinning into wild wind-mills as she teetered backward. She fell, her spine bowed backward over carriage side, hands scratching for a hold. Charlie scooped up the shotgun just as the girl’s fingers caught the door latch release. The door flung open behind Baumgart and he tilted, wild-eyed, out of the landau.

“Charles!” Baumgart shouted. His arms sprang wide to either side of the opening, saving himself from a fatal tumble out the doorway.
“Hold fast!” Charlie doubled over and snagged Baumgart’s wrist. Bracing a foot on the side of the carriage, Charlie hauled him up and onto his feet.
“Are you hurt?” he breathed, steadying the Earl’s footing.
“I…” Baumgart’s pallid lips quivered. “I am alive.”

Beside him the maiden regained her balance. She blinked a moment in confusion, dark black blood gushing from her broken nose. Charlie maneuvered in front of the Earl and took aim a final time. The rear of the carriage shifted downward again and the bullet missed and ricocheted with a loud ‘ping’ on the iron carriage frame.

“Damn! C’mon!” he shouted, grabbing Baumgart by his vest lapels and forcing him up toward the coachman’s bench. “We haven’t much time.”

Baumgart scrambled up to the platform and swung over the guardrail. As Charlie pulled his torso up onto the railing, a final fierce shudder up the chassis signaled that the cracked axel had split completely. The back end lurched down with a heavy crash upon the road causing the rear wheels to tilt and spin free of the wood frame. Charlie’s footing slid off the railing and his body whiplashed against the front bench, cracking one of his ribs. He cried out at the sharp pain and hung from the guardrail by his underarms. Behind him, wood paneling scraped and splintered under the friction like a wooden sword put to a stone grinder.

“Take my hand, Charles!” Baumgart extended his arm. Charlie winced and clenched his teeth against the pain.

“Please,” he found a firm foothold, “Rein in the horses, if you can.”
Baumgart turned to the whip socket as Charlie struggled atop the coachman’s bench and planted his seat on the back of the guardrails.

“Oh no.” Baumgart’s mouth fell open and the last bit of color bled from his cheeks. His voice barely broke over the rumble of the pounding hooves. Charlie followed his line of sight up the road as the team cleared a bend in the forest path. His stomach dropped.

“Oh bloody hell.”

At the railway crossing in the distance ahead, a small horse-cart and its driver waited patiently behind the lowered level bar for an approaching train to pass. Charlie glanced to the whip socket. The leather straps were gone. Below, they lashed and slapped under the terrified horse hooves.

A horn blared off in the distance.

Baumgart shook his head and grabbed Charlie by the arm. “The team is lost, Charles,” he shouted over the roar. “We must jump carriage!”
The horses were inconsolable and the flesh-hungry girl was…Charlie felt a hand lock around his ankle. He looked down to see the maiden grinning back. With one hand on the guardrail and the other holding tight at his riding boot, she swayed like a drunk dancer in the disintegrating coach.

“Go, sir!” Charles unhanded himself from Baumgart.

“But—.”

Another loud crack split the air and the rear bench seat dislodged from the carriage, rolling away with a smash that left the maiden’s feet dangling above the speeding road. Charlie braced against the bench at the added weight of the girl. The horses would be dragging their tack in a few minutes more.
“Please, sir!” Charles begged. “Go now!”

His face tight with terror, Baumgart turned and steadied himself at the edge of the platform. He glanced back, “God bless you, Charles,” and threw himself out into the forest, disappearing behind the dark curtain of night before Charlie even saw him strike the ground. Charlie swiveled his head in search of another weapon but there was nothing left to defend himself. The whip was gone, the gun was lost. He had nothing.

Much louder now, the locomotive hailed its coming again. With the fire of pain searing his left rib, Charlie twisted and jerked his leg until he felt his muscles cramp but she would not let go. He never thought his life would end like this, killed on a mundane carriage ride to Coburg by a mad-girl cannibal. No one would believe the tale if he survived to tell it.

Beside him, hot oil from the swinging lanterns splashed onto the bench, setting the wood alight. Charlie’s eyes widened. His brain surged, jolting one last bit of hope into his heart.

Charlie fumbled for the oil lamp behind him.
“Burn in Hell, wretched devil!”

Charlie smashed the hot lamp down upon the girl. Glass shattered and burning oil splashed down over the maiden’s head, anointing her with bright orange fire. An unearthly shriek burst from her throat and her grip loosened. Charlie wormed free, swung his legs over the side of the platform and, with a quick prayer to the Almighty, jumped free of the carriage.

The ground hit him with a breath-stealing impact. Charlie rolled his shoulders with the bruising momentum until he slowed and flopped to a halt under a large tree, dizzy and gasping like a netted fish. He lay there a moment in disbelief until panic struck his gut. He jerked upright to see if he had truly escaped and watched, incredulous, as the disaster unfolded.

The train rounded a wide curve and barreled toward the crossing. Setting dry branches and brush alight as she passed, the maiden thrashed and screamed on the carriage, oblivious to her own fate. Hearing the commotion behind him, the old peddler scrambled down off his cart to rescue his pony. Realizing his goods could not be saved, he unhitched his mare and gave her a hearty slap on the hind quarter. The animal bolted to safety across the tracks and the poor man limped away as fast as he skinny legs would take him. The Greys were just meters from the intersection.

Up the tracks, a shout pierced through the cacophony. Sounds of metal on metal screeched through the forest as the train slammed down on its emergency brakes. The train blared the horn at its inevitable arrival.

Charlie’s beloved Greys, having seen the cart too late, squealed and skittered, their hooves gouging deep into the cold, soft earth as they struggled to veer left, away from the cart. Rigging clanged and wood creaked in protest but the impact was imminent. The wooden draft poles finally snapped under the strain, sending the carriage skidding sideways into the cart. The impact of the royal coach smashing into the back of the peddler’s cart sent it airborne, careening into a wild roll. Three of the horses broke free, galloping madly on toward Coburg. With a horrible crunching sound, the wheeler screamed and stumbled into the back of the cart creating a mass of broken slats. His neck whipped across a jagged board silencing him into instant death.

Forward momentum flung the blazing girl and landau side over side, directly into the path of the oncoming train. The locomotive engine wailed a final warning before crashing through the carriage, exploding it in mid-air with the speed and force of a giant bullet. Fiery splinters flew high into the tree canopies like a firework, the last oil lamp scattering flames up and over the sides of the railcars. The glissando of the train horn suddenly died. Metal squealed and scraped together under the protesting brakes accompanied by the solid, earthy rumble of heavy, iron wheels upon the tracks.

It was only when a small bit of wood struck Charlie’s leg that he remembered to breathe. He shook his head clear and clutched his chest, taking in large draws of air. Debris tumbled and bounced across the ground hundreds of meters in every direction. Bits of the carriage and carnage rained down all around him. Nearby, a delicate, dismembered hand flopped motionless onto the grass. Streams of dark blood oozed from the ends of the curled, claw-like fingers. From the depths of the forest, his name echoed down the road.

“Charles! Charles!”

The train continued to slow, chugging to a stop with labored effort. Surprised shouts from the crew could be heard in the distance. The peddler hobbled to meet him. Charlie tried to stand but his knees wavered like sheets in the wind. A throbbing pain swallowed his torso and seeped up his chest. Bewildered and numb, his mind faded into the cold, grey fog of shock. It was only when his knees gave out and Charlie plopped back down against the oak tree that he realized one of his legs was broken. He wheezed in disbelief at the fiery wreckage waiting for the flood of pain from his fractured femur to reach his brain. There was no movement near the horrific aftermath that lay scattered over the crossroad. Charlie was struck by the absurdity that the girl might have survived the crash. After all, she had survived everything else.

“Mein Gott, Charles!” Earl Baumgart reached his side, giving his cheek a few hearty slaps. “Keep awake now. We’ll have the doctors here, straightaway!” Charlie felt the familiar tide of nausea ebb up his stomach. It was an odd and uncomfortable reassurance that he was indeed still alive.

“God have mercy!” Earl Baumgart’s cry evaporated into the hollow shell of Charlie’s head. “God have mercy!”

THE END

READ PART I HERE

READ PART II HERE

By: Erica Ruhe

 

Review: L’Oreal Voluminous Superstar X Fiber Mascara

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fibermascara

It’s no secret that one of my longest standing go-to mascara favourites is L’Oreal Voluminous Mascara, so when I noticed that L’Oreal came out with a new and improved version of it, I couldn’t wait to check it out.

What It Is: Super-Volumized, Super-Extended, X-Treme Superstar Lashes

What It Does: The Black Primer portion of the mascara delivers extreme volume and depth, whilst the Fiber Infused Mascara portion create extreme length.

Distinguishing Factors: Primer and mascara. Primer creates a black lash base whilst the fiber mascara helps with extending the length of your lashes.

Verdict: What I love about this mascara is that you have both primer and mascara in one handy wand! The primer that comes with mascara is black, rather than white, which helps cut down on the waiting time (cause I usually wait for the white primers to dry up a little before adding the mascara). This black primer is created so that there is no wait time, and it helps prepare the lashes for the fiber mascara. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about the fiber mascara formula. Fiber mascara means that there are little tiny fibers in the mascara that attach to the lashes and thus helps with creating a lengthening look to each individual lash. This mascara DOES deliver in helping with length if that’s your concern but it also helps with volume if that’s what you seek. I also love that this mascara was neither clumpy nor did it ever feel heavy. Bonus, there’s no flaking, smudging, or fall-out all day! Instead, what you do get is defined, extra-voluminous, and long lashes without the hassle of falsies or extensions! A definite win/win in my book.

Price: $10.99

Where To Buy It: https://www.lorealparisusa.com

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By: Azzurra Nox

 

SHORT STORY: ANIMORTIS Part II

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Like a hunter who had flushed its prey from hiding, the gory maiden let out a horrid screech and burst into a run towards the carriage. The terrified Greys screamed and tossed their heads, bolting forward into the darkness. Charlie’s top hat took flight as the cold breeze turned to a freezing gust under the burst of horsepower.
“What in God’s sacred Creation was that creature?” Earl Baumgart shouted above the deafening rumble of the carriage as it bumped and rattled away at full speed down the rugged road. The spooked horses were at a full sprint now.
“I don’t know, sir,” Charlie replied, fighting to regain control of the petrified team. “But we’re safe away!”
Charlie twisted his head and looked down the path, seeking reassurance that the wild girl straggled far behind them in the growing distance. Earl Baumgart also turned round in his bench seat but the road behind them was nothing more than a gaping black void in the night.
“Yield, my lads!” Charlie pulled firm on the lines.
But the horses did not give.
Charlie arched his back and threw his whole body behind the reins once more. “Yield, boys! Yield, I say!” The team ignored his order and, instead, returned his efforts with a fresh burst of speed. A second flash of panic sparked in his gut.
“Verdammt!” Baumgart shouted.
Charlie’s head whipped around. The breath whooshed from his lungs. There was the girl, clinging one-handed to the wheel’s mudguard, scratching and clawing her way up the side. Her legs dragged limply over the speeding ground under her, shredding the skirts and skin into bloody, tattered swags of flesh. To his surprise, pain was not the expression on her face. It was hatred and hunger that burned from her gnashing teeth and mad eyes. She possessed a strength and voraciousness that he had never witnessed before. The true harm she might be capable of struck down on Charlie like a bell hammer. The Earl’s life was in jeopardy.
The girl’s slender, pale arm grappled over the back of the folded canvas cover, inches from Earl Baumgart’s head. Wrapping the reins around one hand, Charlie unhitched the shotgun from under his bench.
“My lord!” Charlie shouted, struggling to keep steady against the bucking carriage. “Move away!”
Baumgart caught sight of the weapon. “Charles! No! You can’t kill this girl!”
The maiden’s other hand slapped over the edge, her flayed fingers catching a firm hold of the Earl’s arm.
“Back!” Charlie ordered as he cocked the hammer.
“Miss, please!” The Earl struggled to free himself. The girl rose over the side, blood-streaked strands of blonde locks lashing and whipping about her lacerated face.
“I’m warning you!” Charlie narrowed his aim.
She opened her mouth wide and snapped her teeth inches from Baumgart’s forearm.
“Mein Gott!” Baumgart exclaimed. Then to Charlie, “Shoot her! Shoot her!”
Charlie sucked in a breath and pulled the trigger. The shot exploded the ridge of trapezius muscle between her throat and collarbone. Blood sprayed through the air, her shoulder bucking backward, arm flinging out behind her. Baumgart shouted in horror. The Greys screamed again.
But still she remained. Dumbfounded, Charlie paused, his aim wavering. That wound would have stopped even a battle-hardened soldier. The girl slopped her limp arm back over the seat and this time, grabbed Baumgart’s shoulder. Her shattered clavicle bristled bright white above the wash of fresh blood that poured down her chest. Charlie gritted against the violent rattle of the carriage. Tucking the butt of the gun under his tethered arm he ejected the spent cartridge.
Baumgart wriggled and squirmed, trying to slide out of his coat. “Let go, you demon!”
Returning the shotgun up to aim, Charlie braced himself for the kickback but paused and eased his finger off the trigger. The girl had slithered closer, her mouth agape and eyes flared. Red drool poured over her chin and onto Baumgart’s shoulder. A clean shot without harm to the Earl was impossible.
“Charles!”
Earl Baumgart struggled out of his overcoat, peeling his arm and shoulder free of her grasp. He dove to the front quarter seat behind the coachman’s bench at the same instant the front wheel struck a large rock, sending a violent impact crashing through the landau chassis. His footing slipped and he struck his temple on the edge of the carriage door. Baumgart crumpled into a heap. Charlie’s hand smashed against the cold guardrails. The gun clattered to the coach floor as the maiden pitched backward off the side of the landau.
“My lord!” Charlie called again. “Are you all right?”
Baumgart held his bleeding head and brought his back to rest against the carriage door, too dazed to reply. His eyes rolled back and his body melted under the weight of unconsciousness.
Charlie cradled his throbbing fist under his arm. Assured that such a sudden shock through the vehicle would have sent the girl tumbling onto the ground, he glanced back to the rear canvas cover. Instead, he saw a single bloodied hand firmly anchored over the same door that Earl Baumgart now lay slumped upon.
Then, with a lurch and snapping of wood, the rear axle cracked.
Calculating the risks, Charlie whirled back to the wild, squealing Greys. Frightened into a mindless lather, they dragged the coach without concern, bashing it over every pit and rock, like careless boys running with a toy wagon. Loosened, broken spokes flew from the wooden wheels like spears. In a last desperate attempt, Charlie wound his hands down the leather reins, braced his feet on the iron front-board and pulled with all the might he could muster.
“For the love of Mother Mary, yield, you bloody beasts!” he screamed. “Yield!”
The panic in his voice was all the team heard. Their alarm confirmed the horses thundered blindly onward. Shaking, Charlie’s arms drooped with exhaustion. His eyes darted back to the unconscious Earl sprawled on the floor of the carriage. Above him, the maiden had pulled her torso back onto the ledge side. She was nearly inside the coach.
Leaping to his feet, Charlie pulled in the reins, knotted them tight around the whip socket and snatched them up the long, leather switch. He swung a leg over and straddled the coachman’s seatback, one hand on the iron railings the other poised to deliver a firm lash of the whip.
“Oy!” Charlie shouted to avert her attention.
The girl’s head jostled violently but her eyes snapped up at his voice.
Charlie secured his balance and released a nasty crack of the whip against the girl’s arm. “Back, you devil!”
She flinched from the noise but was undaunted by the new wound on her purple skin.
Charlie raised the whip and gave her another swift, discouraging snap across the side of her neck. The thin flesh burst apart with a mist of blood but still, she continued. Charlie released a few more cracks across her arms and chest but the girl had now gained a leg over the side. He tried a final time, across her head. The whip slapped at the soft, fleshy cut on her cheek, enlarging the wound into a flap of skin that hung limply from her face. At this, she inhaled and let out an ear-splitting scream.
“C’mon then!” he challenged.
Charlie straightened, stepping down into the carriage when something hard struck his back, tossing him onto the back of the rear bench. In a blur, a low-hanging branch swept over the open carriage, just missing the maiden’s head. Charlie lolled low and dangerous over the ground. Dust and small pebbles kicked up from the broken rear wheels pelted his face. He yelped in pain, squeezed his eyes tight and forced his body back into the carriage.
Winded and blinded, Charlie realized the whip was no longer in his hand. Tears flooded his gritty, burning eyes. He swiped a coat sleeve over his face and rolled over just in time to catch the maiden as she launched herself onto him. They landed flat on the seat and she opened her mouth wide for a large bite of the soft pulsing flesh near Charlie’s jugular.
Charlie caught a handful of her blood-stiffened hair and yanked her head backward. With his other hand, he caught her shinning, red jaw at the throat, pinning her arm’s-length above him. The girl wriggled and thrashed with rage, nails raking at his hands. He blinked back his blurred sight as she gurgled, frustrated, her teeth working the air behind the exposed tendons in her jaw. Fatigue burned down his arms, the muscles yearning for release. Adrenaline flooded his brain as he deliberated.

By: Erica Ruhe

Check in next Thursday for the final installment!

READ PART ONE HERE.

Book Review: Brave by Rose McGowan

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Growing up, I always wanted to be an actress. Movies have always been a form of media that I love. Going to the theatre as a child was always one of my favourite things to do, becoming immersed in the stories that were being told, and admiring the actresses who looked so glamorous. But despite my love for cinema, I was always deviated to pursue my acting dreams, being told that Hollywood wasn’t a safe haven for women (by people in the industry) and the whole cliché of all that glitters isn’t gold.

I always thought those stories were just stories. Until I read Rose McGowan’s autobiography.

And boy is this book one wild ride.

For years what we knew of Rose McGowan was of the characters she portrayed in movies (often the sex-bomb snarky femme fatale type as can be seen in Doom Generation, Scream, Jawbreaker, and Planet Terror to name a few) the men she’s dated (Marilyn Manson and Robert Rodriguez), and the image the media sold of her as a “bad girl.”

There’s never a dull moment in Brave, where McGowan begins the book from her early days of growing up in a cult, Children of God, and living in northern Italy, to experiencing culture shock once her dad brings her back to America where she kept being sent back and forth between her parents and living in different states. How she didn’t actually pursue acting as a career, but it was more something that happened to her by accident, and that the fear of becoming homeless and living on the streets as she had done for awhile as a teen, haunted her into continuing her career in an industry she didn’t feel truly understood her or regarded her as a capable human being.

But what really had me reeling the most whilst reading the book was the moment when McGowan has her meeting with whom she refers to “the Monster” (Harvey Weinstein) and how she (and other young actresses throughout the years) was the sacrifitional lamb to a man who abused his power and knew that he could get away with it because as it turns out no one tried to be of help to her when she told various people of the incident, from her manager who said that maybe her career could only get better because of the assault, to a female attorney stating that she wouldn’t win the case since she had done a nude scene in a movie, to her then-co-star Ben Affleck who offered no true help (which is no surprise seeing that he’s Hollywood’s equivalent of Frat-Boy Bro-hood mentality and was besties with said Monster).

Other interesting tidbits was finding out that Marilyn Manson was the kindest boyfriend she had (and that the song Coma White was about her). How Robert Rodriguez was a “charming prince” soon to be revealed to be a manipulative, sadistic, power-hungry, unhinged individual. That her years spent filming Charmed were her worst gig, not because of her character, Paige, but because of the grueling schedule and male-dominated crew. That the only Prom she experienced was that in Jawbreaker, where she portrayed mean girl Courtney Alice Shayne, who wins Prom Queen, but then gets shamed and pelted by corsages when it’s revealed that she killed the much adored popular girl Elizabeth Purr. And believe it or not, it was Ashton Kutcher who inspired McGowan to join Twitter.

Brave is a tale of a woman who had her spirit crushed by the machine that is Hollywood, and how, much like a Phoenix, she has soared from her ashes, and reclaimed her identity, her true self, not the one that was pinned to her by the men in the movie industry. The day she shaved off her hair, was the day she broke up with the world and reclaimed her person for herself. From that moment on, she has ventured into directing (watch her moving short film Dawn), singing, photography, and became an active voice for those who either were too scared to speak up or didn’t know how to, and has long since been an advocate and activist for female empowerment.

This is a moving book that will stick with you long after you’ve read it.

And if you’re going to take anything from this book it’s this: Be brave. Be bold. Don’t be afraid of being yourself.

By: Azzurra Nox

ROSE_MCGOWAN_AUTHOR

Short Story: ANIMORTIS

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a scary undead zombie girl

Germany, 1861

“Easy! Easy, I say!” Charlie commanded and cajoled the four Windsor Greys to an amble with a firm pull on the reins. The bridles clanged and rigging groaned as the team clambered over each other in confused panic. “Steady, boys.”

The open-top landau creaked and slowed, halting in the middle of the dark forest road. Dusk had slipped away to a heavy indigo of evening, the small oil lanterns on either side of the carriage offering little beyond their stunted diameters of golden light. Charlie squinted into the surrounding shadows, searching for the source of the team’s unease.

“Is there a problem, Charles?”
Charlie turned to the passenger behind him with a respectful tip of his top hat. “No, sir.”
“Then why have we stopped?” the Earl asked the tone in his German accent as weary as his blue eyes.
The bitter October breeze carried an unusual quiet through the trees. Charlie shivered.

“I’ll get them back on their way.” Eager to dismiss the anxiety growing in his gut, Charlie snapped a smart nod of his head and turned back to the Greys. Assured all was under control, Earl Baumgart angled his book back to the lamplight and returned to his reading.

Charlie’s leader horses pawed at the spongy earth, grousing and chewing at their bits. Behind them, the soft, pointed ears of the wheelers twitched, straining to hear beyond their clinking tack. Charlie gripped the thick leather reins, digging frigid fingers into his palms to fight off the numbing fatigue.
“Alright, boys.” He clicked his tongue. “Be on, now.”

Defiant, the horses tossed their heads and snorted, refusing to move.
“Stroll on,” he gave a good snap on the straps, his patience waning. A few hours travel still lay ahead before they reached the Earl’s brother in Coburg. Every moment standing here in the autumn cold was another moment of delay from a full belly and a warm bed.

“Oy!” Charlie slapped the reins now. “I said get!” He gritted his teeth, pulling the riding whip from the socket.

The sudden snap of a twig and crunch of dry leaves halted Charlie, whip held above his head. On their guard, the horses remained rigid, listening. Charlie stuffed the whip back into the socket, unlatched a lamp from its post and stood, peering as far into the darkness as he could manage. Only emaciated shadows of barren trees swayed in the wind.

“Charles,” the Earl whispered and thumped his book closed, “is someone lurking about?”

Charlie wrapped the reins in a loose knot around the whip socket and disembarked from the coach bench. With the lamp in hand and caution in his feet, he stepped to the front of the team.

“Perhaps it’s only a small animal, sir.” He hunched his shoulders against the night chill and exhaled, cold vapor billowing over his unshaven face. A long moment passed. Nothing stirred.

“What is it, Titan?” Charlie muttered, patting down the wheeler’s broad neck and shoulder, breathing in the familiar, earthy scent of cold, damp horse. Titan blew a heavy gust from his large nostrils and tossed his head away, annoyed and distracted. His wide eyes roved toward a dark corner in the forest ahead.
Then, on the soft breeze, came a deep, guttural sigh.

Again, velvet ears snapped forward, this time with unnerving precision. Charlie eased further into the darkness, certain his mind wasn’t playing tricks.
“Hallo?” the word scratched in his throat as he raised the lamp. Pierced with the pungent odor of kerosene, the night air smelled sharp and inauspicious. Charlie swallowed. Crisp, naked branches creaked in the wind. “I say, is anyone there?”

Charlie held his breath. Fear seeped its way down his taut back. His heart thrummed in his ears. The whooshing of his blood blurred his senses. The miserable chill settled deeper into his bones.

A ragged moan flowed down the path in answer, low, monotonous.
“Sh-show yourself!” Charlie demanded through numb lips. Shielding his sight from the glare of the lamp, he tromped a few feet ahead of his team. His eyes snagged upon a curious shadow wading through the shrubbery.

“You there!” Charlie’s voice broke in a most unflattering manner.
The figure inched forward. She was an odd girl. Seventeen, perhaps, but her footing was awkward and unsure like a babe’s first step. Her head hung low, the lower half of her face shrouded in the shadows. Her eyes were sunken; merely two, dark pools reflecting the lamplight. Jagged branches teased and pulled at her disheveled blonde braids as she neared. She was the frail silhouette of a beggar girl. His courage restored, Charlie lowered the lamp and planted an authoritative fist on his hip.

“Do you get a jolly out of spooking travelers and their horses?”
The girl did not answer.

“You should get a good wallop on the backside for a prank like this! And what, in God’s name, are you doing out here in the forest at this late hour? What kind of a father would allow his daughter to wander about unescorted? And have you a coat? You haven’t—.” Charlie trailed off at the observation, appalled. “You haven’t even a coat,” he muttered to himself, strangely and suddenly compassionate. “You poor creature.”

He took notice of her red dress, the thin fabric torn and muddy. She remained silent as she shuffled forward into the outer reaches of the lamplight. It cast faint upon her visage, revealing her pitiful state. Her face was soiled, a cut stretching across her forehead. She inhaled and exhaled with effort, the raspy sound suggesting fluid in her lungs. Charlie’s tone softened as he realized she was hurt.

“I say, are you alright, miss? You must be freezing in this cold.”
She sucked in a laborious breath and dragged another foot forward, emerging from the brush and onto the edge of the road. Her head twitched to the side, revealing a large tuft of hair that had been ripped out of her scalp. The horses groused again. Her wide, glossy eyes stared, emotionless yet transfixed. Charlie’s compassion melted back into unease.

A smell hit him.

It was illness, and yet, something grotesquely viler. He swallowed down a gag and reached for a handkerchief to cover his nose. She stank of death.
“Gott in Himmel!” Earl Baumgart exclaimed, opening his carriage door and kicking down the metal folding step. “Come! I have a warm blanket. We’ll give you a ride to town! Where is your family?”

“Sir?” Charlie tried to control the rising alarm in his voice as he stepped back toward the coach. “I think we should be on our way.”
“And leave this unfortunate soul to freeze to death out here alone?” Earl Baumgart continued down the carriage step, flabbergasted. “Have you gone mad, Charles?”
The young girl raised her head with a renewed strength and sniffed the air. Charlie’s heartbeat broke into a gallop. He dropped the handkerchief from his face. An eerie, tight breath gurgled past her blood-covered lips. Thin, delicate fingers curled into trembling, stiffened claws.
Charlie squelched the rising urge to turn and run for fear of startling the horses. Instead, he continued his slow retreat back to the landau, choking down a gasp of terror. A splash of bright red cascaded down the girl’s chin and throat. It was as though she had bit her tongue right out of her mouth. The Greys blew strong gusts of air from their flared nostrils, catching wind of the horrid stench. They shuffled their heavy hooves, jostling the carriage. Charlie felt for the lantern hook and slipped the lamp back on to its rung.
“Sir,” Charlie urged, anchoring a foot onto the coachman’s step. “She appears to be,” he faltered, not knowing how best to describe her condition, “ill.”
Baumgart paused, a peculiar expression creeping across his face.
Charlie glanced back once more. Rivulets of blood stained the girl’s bruise-dappled arms. A shred of white ribbon hung tangled in the end of a loosened braid. Rouge smudged her cheek. The glint of a golden locket flashed bright around her neck. Charlie noticed her tattered, red dress once more.
He felt his breath catch in his chest.
Halfway down the skirt, it shone of fine white silk. The top was completely dyed red with blood. This was not a common beggar girl. She did not seem to be in pain. She did not seem to be coherent at all.
“We’ll…send someone back for you,” Earl Baumgart managed in a whisper, back-peddling to the landau.
The girl turned her head toward the sound. Her jaw went slack, arms reaching out as if to embrace him. Blood bubbled into froth around her mouth.
Charlie looked back and the two men nodded in unspoken, wide-eyed agreement. They scurried aboard, Charlie nearly missing a step and Earl Baumgart clapping the superfluous carriage door closed with a loud clack of the latch. Snatching up the reins and snapping a hard crack against the team’s backsides, Charlie cried out a desperate plea, “Run on!”

To be continued. Look for part two, next Thursday!

By: Erica Ruhe

 

Skincare: DIY Cucumber Mask!

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cucumber

Anyone who knows me knows that I love a good face mask! Not only are they luxurious in feel, but they always make me feel as though they are truly combating my skin concerns (oiliness/acne) whenever I’m using skin masks that target those concerns. But with so many companies coming out with face masks, not all face masks are created equal, and many of them are loaded with chemicals or unnecessary colouring agents and added scents.

So what does one do when you’re aiming for an all-natural face mask? Simple, do it yourself!

This face mask is aimed at soaking up oil and calming inflammation, and better suited for those with oily or combination skin type. Those of you with dry skin might find this mask a bit more drying and thus not as helpful to your skin type.

There’s a load of DIY face masks on the internet, but this one is truly easy peasy! I’m not one to try to get too fancy with crazy ingredients, so this is one you can whip up in less than three minutes tops!

Ingredients:
Half a cucumber (blended to make one tablespoon juice)
One teaspoon lemon juice
One teaspoon turmeric

Directions:
Blend all the ingredients in a blender till they’re all mixed together, or you can place all the ingredients in a bowl and mix the ingredients together manually.
Then once you have the mixture, spread it all over your face (keep away from the eye area and eyebrows and lips) using a cotton ball or foundation brush.

Time: Keep this on for 15-30 mins. Don’t exceed 30-mins. though otherwise the lemon can be too drying to your skin!

Final step: Once the time has elapsed, rinse the mask off using lukewarm water and pat dry with a towel.

Bonus: Use this mask 2-3 times a week (to save time you can apply this before taking a bath! I love being able to multitask since I hate waiting!).

Benefits of the mask: Cucumber promotes healthy skin, while the lemon juice targets the oiliness and acts like a natural astringent, while the turmeric penetrates into the pores and soothes any inflammation there may be (and oily and acne-prone skin is ALWAYS harboring some kind of inflammation).

By: Azzurra Nox