Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Pablo Michaels Week 78: Evil Destined Deeds

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Picture 2

Pablo Michael’s Picture Choice: Both

Title: Evil Destined Deeds

The last, unusually warm, kaleidoscopic day of autumn twisted into the first shortened winter afternoon. Conning his best friend, Bryce, Wyatt disregarded the weather forecast for the first chance of substantial rain in a year to venture into the remote park reserve near their house.

“What’s the urgency to be out here? It’s cold. And it’s so damn dirty.” Bryce complained about the plumes of powdered dirt that swirled with each step they took along the trail.

“Remember those anonymous texts I received on Wednesday?” Wyatt stopped, checking for any new messages on his cell phone.

“Yes, and I told you they were spam.”

“I got another one today. It was one about this park. Your answer’s here. I know exactly where this new picture is. It’s here. Just around this next bend.”

“Let me see.” Bryce took the phone, scrutinizing the overlay of symbols. “These are gang tags. The colors are obvious, red and blue, even the white. I don’t want to look for their meaning. They could only lead to trouble.”

“They mean something.” Wyatt walked ahead. “Come on. They’re here.”

Bryce joined his friend, hesitantly. “So, they mean exactly what I said.”

“Look closer. I’ve been trying to decipher if they might be Chinese or Japanese words. You know some of their language since you been to these countries.”

“That was ten years ago.”

“Just try to see if they are.”

Bryce studied the spray painted rocky slab. “They’re nothing I remember. Damn! They’re just graffiti.”

Wyatt’s Cell phone buzzed.

“There’s another message.”

Both read the text.

Go down the hill to the creek.

Wyatt didn’t wait for Bryce, rapidly descending the dry slope, strewn with the dry rubble of tree branches, leaves and weeds.

Bryce followed him more cautiously.

“Holy shit!” Wyatt stood in front of a skull and three bones projecting from the base.

“I told you not to find out more.” Bryce scoffed his friend’s discovery.

“I wonder who this was.”

The cell phone bleeped again.

We’ll get you too. Fucking faggots.


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Pablo Michaels writes LGBT fiction and has published with Naughty Nights Press, You can follow him at @bell2mike



  1. Pablo, what a terrifying read. You evoked a lot of emotions from me. Very well written.