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Being Human

Posted: September 10, 2016 by Bree Jalique in Scene
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She was human, wasn’t she? She had memories of her mother, her father. She remembered the time where her older sister pushed her when they were skateboarding and she had rolled down the cement hill with her leg bleeding. Her sister, Willa, had hugged her and sobbed that she was sorry as her grubby hands tried to wipe the blood away. Eliza still had the scar on her knee; the twisted pattern of silvery lines across her brown skin. Yet, she was human right? These memories, these feelings, her appearance. All of it was human. Right?

“What are you.” Her mother breathed out horrified. She was holding Eliza’s little brother to her chest, her body hunched over him as if to protect him.

“It’s me.” Eliza pleaded. “Mom it’s me.” Even as she said this though, Eliza didn’t feel like herself. There were bright, luminescent lines spiraling around her body. It started with her middle fingers, twisting around and up her arms and shoulders, and up her collar bone, up her neck to rest at her temples. There were dots sprinkled across her face like freckles, but they flickered like lights.

“I don’t know you. I only have two children.” Her mom pleaded, hugging little Kent closer to her. Eliza couldn’t understand why her mother was saying such things. She was her daughter. She remembered being sung to sleep by her mother. She remembered when she was sick, her mom would sweep the hair from her sweaty forehead. This was her mother wasn’t she; she was her daughter, wasn’t she?

“Mom,” Eliza coaxed, her tone taking on a hysterical edge to it. “Please, it’s me, Eliza!”

“I don’t know you!” Her mother shouted in a way that Eliza had never heard before. “I don’t know you! I only have two kids. Willa and Kent! I don’t know who you are and I want you out of my house! Get out! Get out!” She was screaming and the pain in Eliza’s head sharpen from her screams.

“Listen please!” Eliza shouted, but her mom kept speaking over her. Kept yelling and with every yell, her head ached more and more. Flashes of images behind her eyes appeared and disappeared. The space, large and vast and home. Darkness, but not in a sense of color, because the galaxy was not dark. It was littered with stars, nebulas, and debris. Colors that swirled and burned. The metal ship. Home. Her parents. Her real parents. They were like her. Light that spiraled around their body like veins. Her mother, the real mother, leaning down to cup her face. Speaking in a language and Eliza never heard before, but it was like an old song that was lost in memory. Be safe. Protect yourself. The rest will find you.  They tucked her away in a small area. She was breathing heavily, her little heart pounding away in her chest. A bubble appeared around her, soft and elastic looking, but when she placed her hand on it; it was harder than any metal she felt.With one last look into the yellow eyes of her family and she was launched into space. The galaxy was frightening as much as it was beautiful. She was in awe of the stars and planets that surrounded her. She looked to left and right to see more bubbles launching out of ships. The children.  They were being sent away. Being saved. Then she entered an atmosphere and her bubble was crumbling away and it crashed into the terrain planet. Dirt and debris erupted from the ground and her protective bubble flickered before extinguishing. Her lungs seized from the foreign air, her skin prickled and she felt like she was dying, but like shifting tile, her flesh flared from the inside out to adjust to its new environment.

“What happened?” A voice whispered.

“Olive, don’t,” Another warned and her yellow eyes met two inhabitants of this new world. She took them in and her appearance rippled like a stone in water and adjusted to the appearance of them. Her gleaming veins sunk into her flesh and disappeared her skin darken from its powdery green color. Her yellow eyes, browned and pupil rounded. She mimicked their appearance. She projected memories, emotions of maternal and paternal instincts. Memories she copied from their own and inserted herself into them, but the crash landing and the throbbing in her head she projected not only to them, but onto herself also, wiping way her memories of her true self and of her home world.

“Eliza,” her mother admonished and picked up the toddler off the ground. “Don’t wander off.”

Eliza groaned as she bent over, her fingers threading through her hair. “What am I?”  Her mother? The woman was still screaming at her.

“Stop, yelling!” Eliza roared and suddenly Olive was being flung across the room. Kent screamed and sobbed as his mother’s arms left him. Olive’s body hit the wall with sickening thud. Her head hung loosely to the side as the dry wall around her cracked like a spiderweb. There was blood where her head hit the wall.

“Mom!” Kent sobbed and shakily crawled to his mom. The eight year old curled near his mother. He clung to her body. Eliza staggered back in horror. She was dead. She knew it, she couldn’t hear her breathing or her beating heart. Eliza could hear a calculating part of her mind whispering that she cracked her head open, but that wasn’t the cause of death. The force of Olive hitting the wall had snapped her neck. Eliza felt like she was going to vomit. She felt sick. The pillows off the ground began to float in the air, the remote, the table, the chairs. Everything began to lift off the ground. She had to get away, she needed to get away. Eliza ran from the room and once she left the house, she could hear everything fall to the ground. Her mind was spinning; she was hyperventilating. Oh God, she killed her mother. Where was she going to go?  She need to leave. She began to run toward the exit of their neighborhood, but a hand snagged her arm and pulled her to the side of a house. Body strung tight, she was ready to fight, but she saw the familiar eyes of Evan Dominguez.

“Evan?” She stuttered.

“Fuck Eliza,” He swore. “You really fucked this one up.”

“I,” She was confused and Evan smirked as his hazel eyes flickered to yellow, silted eyes.

“Yeah, I’m like you. I was supposed to keep an eye on you. We all change when we hit puberty. Welcome to the club, but you really made a mess of this.” Evan sighed and ran his hand through his curly, dark hair. “We need to get out of here. When our true selves come to we kind of black out places.” He grinned that pretty grin that would make her heart clench.  “Not to brag or anything, but I blacked out a whole damn city, but you kid? Fuck your parents must have been someone. You blacked out this town and the next damn two.” There was the sound of a siren and the loud engines. He pushed her lightly against the wall. “We got to go.” Evan said, suddenly serious.

“Where?” Eliza felt her stomach clench. Where do Aliens like them go?

“To HQ, dork.” Evan rolled his eyes as they bled to human, hazel eyes. “We need to go before the gov sends their people after us again.” Evan gripped her wrist tightly and before Eliza could say anything a police officer came around the corner, gun drawn.

“Freeze, hands where I can see them.” He ordered and Eliza was ready to comply, but Evan just smirked. He held his hand up, but his left hand was still around her wrist as he held both of them up. Then, both of their veins shone brightly and like fireflies, their bodies disintegrated in light swirling away.


Posted: October 4, 2015 by Bree Jalique in Short Story
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I wrote this story maybe, two years ago? As a horror fanatic I thought I should share it. I love all things scary and spooky and October is the best month for it. 

TW: Gore & mild sexual themes. 

“I’m hungry,” She clenched the crook of his arm tightly. Her face held an unpleasant pallor appearance, dark shadows beneath her eyes, lips chapped from her constant picking and licking.

“I know.” Chase whispered to his sister. “Just a bit longer Alyssa.” Alyssa fingers dug through his long, sleeve shirt.

“I can’t,” She stressed through clenched teeth. “I can’t ‘just a bit’ any longer. I haven’t eaten in almost a day Chase. I can’t control it.”

“She okay back there?” Chase flinched at the sound of their leader’s voice.

“Yeah, she’s good Kyle. Just a bit hungry.” Kyle narrowed his eyes at Alyssa and Alyssa turned her hazel-yellow eyes away.

“She ain’t bitten is she?” Kyle paused in his steps and the group turned their anxious eyes to Alyssa. Alyssa aggressively pulled her greasy hair away from her heart-shaped face.

“I ain’t bitten.” Alyssa mocked his Southern twang. “I’m fucking hungry.” she growled and Kyle marched up to her.

“You got a problem Little Lady?” he loomed over her, but Alyssa wasn’t one to back down.

“Yeah I got a fucken problem. You’re the leader so why are we starving? You’re not leading us anywhere, but death.” Alyssa spat, and Kyle’s face turned vermillion, vein bulging on his forehead.

“If ya don’t like the way I’m leading then you can get the fuck outta ‘ere.” Kyle fumed.

“No, she doesn’t mean it. She’s just hungry.” Chase apologized and he shot his sister a stern look. “She’s sorry. Right Aly?”

“Yeah, really sorry.” Alyssa grumbled out insincerely. Kyle turned to Chase.

“Get your sister under control. Or you’re out.” Kyle turned away and Chase released a breath. He waited for the group to walk further away from them.

“You have to control yourself Alyssa.” Chase snapped. He glared at his sister and Alyssa sighed softly.

“I’m sorry Chase.” She said sincerely. She blinked up at him with large dinner plate eyes. “I’m really trying here. I swear.” She said quietly and Chase lifted the hem of her shirt up just above her navel. On the side of her hip, was an ugly bite mark, it was swollen and an angry red color with purple and green bruising. The teeth indentations were weeping with pus and barley scabbing over.

“It looks bad,” Chase winced at it before dropping her shirt down. “Does it hurt?”

“Only a bit.” Alyssa started walking forward and Chase followed her.

“Do you feel different?” Chase questioned. Alyssa casted him a sideways glance.

“Only hungry. I’m always hungry. I’m not dying if that’s what you think. I don’t really understand it, Chase, but I’m not fully like them. I’m not going to die and suddenly come back. I’m still alive.” Alyssa held his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I’m just a bit odd.” Alyssa released his hand.

“We’ll make camp here.” Kyle announced. “It seems like a good place.” Alyssa took in the thick corn field. There were several things wrong with this. The corn field will hide them, but it will also hide the Dead if they come stumbling along. Alyssa was ready to voice her opinion, but Chase shook his head at her, so she remained quiet.

Sunset came and passed, the swirls of pink and orange disappeared from sky, leaving darkness and stars in its awake. The small fire was low, so it wouldn’t attract unwanted attention, a pot over the fire to boil creek water. People huddled around the fire to keep warm, others gave up hope in warmth and settled for a chilly night of sleep. Chase was one of those people, he was curled under his sleeping bag, and eyes shut tightly. Alyssa watched him from the fire. She didn’t feel the cold. She didn’t feel much nowadays. Since the bite she didn’t feel cold or hot, fatigue, or thirst. She only felt the deep, gnawing hunger in her gut and trail mix and grasshoppers didn’t satisfy it. No, she craved for something more. Chase didn’t like her doing it. He caught her once, down by the creek yesterday. Her fingers deep in Damon’s stomach. She couldn’t help herself. He just looked so good. The thick muscles that rippled beneath that copper flesh of his. The salty sweat that clung to his skin like rubbed seasoning. She couldn’t stop herself. One moment she was holding the pail of water, and the next it was tumbling to the ground and her teeth were on his neck. Thick, hot blood in her mouth, rubbery, slippery meat clenched between her teeth. Her taste buds were sending fireworks to her brain.

This was delicious

He was delicious.

She kept eating, gorging herself in the human delicacy, and that’s when Chase came in. Right when she was pulling the intestines out, long slippery, hot, in her hands. She wanted to eat his stomach. She wanted to dig her way and find it so she can eat it. She wanted to know if she could taste what he last ate.

She remembered his horrified face, him pulling her away and begging her to stop. She didn’t remember much. Glimpses of him rubbing her face clean of blood, watching Damon’s blood run pink in the creek. Chase pacing and swearing. He pulled out his pistol and banged it against his forehead. He aimed it and shot the ground.  Taking her hand, she was soon standing in front everyone and Chase was explaining to everyone how Damon was attacked by a zombie and Alyssa tried to help, but Damon was loss and Chase killed it. Everyone bought the story, especially considering how vacant Alyssa looked. Traumatized they had said, but Alyssa wasn’t traumatized. No, if Alyssa regretted anything that night, it was that she couldn’t finish Damon.

With a sigh, Alyssa gave Sharon the rest of her soup. A mixture of corn they found, nearly rotten potatoes, and rat meat. Sharon thanked Alyssa full heartedly and scooped up the soup with her fingers to eat, ignoring the way it burned her fingers. Alyssa unrolled her sleeping bag and unzipped it, she draped it over her brother and was satisfied to see how his face relaxed. The virus was affecting her in several ways, ways she did not tell her brother. While there was definitely a physical change there was also a mental one. While she knew she should care, she didn’t. She didn’t care about anyone. They were just a constant reminder of her hunger. She cared for her brother though. She loved her brother and she would protect him, because he would do the same.

“Alyssa,” Kyle barked from across the field. Alyssa tilted her head in direction. Kyle nodded towards the field and Alyssa sighed before following him. She dodged through the tall stalks of corn, the low light from the fire slowly disappearing until it was dark.

“What do you want Kyle?” Alyssa called out, and then his hands were on her chin, fingers pressing firmly down. He tilted her head and planted kisses on her neck.

“How come ya don’t mess with me anymore?” Kyle asked between kisses. His other hand snaking down, lingering on her chest before slipping further down.

“Well,” Alyssa drawled as his fingers passed the band of her jeans and dipped into her. Alyssa faked a gasp, her mind spinning. Her hands were quivering. Do it. Do it. Do it. “Maybe I noticed you were a bit too old for me. After all, you have what twenty years on me?” She had said instead. Kyle curled his fingers in her.

“About fourteen.” He nipped her neck. Alyssa pulled his hand out her jeans and shoved him to the ground. She climbed on top of him and kissed him roughly.

“Technicalities.” She peppered kisses on his neck, and then she bit his neck.

“That’s nice,” He groaned and Alyssa bit harder. “Not so rough.” But Alyssa gritted her teeth and pulled her head up. Kyle’s shout was cut short when he gargled on his blood. It shot from his neck like a high pressure stream, squirting on the floor. The metallic smell was enough to send Alyssa wanting for more. She bite into his neck again, teeth crunching the flesh and bones. She sunk her fingers into his mouth to take his tongue. That stupid tongue of his that always barked orders and that would lazily trail across her skin. She gave it a rough tug and there was a wet tear and she chewed on the appendage. She tore Kyle’s flesh away and consumed it. The hunger was endless. It didn’t matter how much she ate, she was still hungry. It didn’t matter when she saw the white of his bone on his arm, the hunger squeezed at her.

“Oh Aly,” Chase spoke, his flash light casting a yellow light on her. Alyssa swallowed and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“I tried,” Alyssa swore and Chase frowned at her.

“I know, but you have to try a bit harder. Hurry up and eat. I’ll keep watch.” Chase turned around and Alyssa grinned widely, fingers slick as they slipped into the thin tissues of his stomach. Perhaps now she could see if she could taste what Kyle last ate.

Of Dark Arts

Posted: September 28, 2015 by Bree Jalique in Short Story
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Growing up, I was always shadowed behind the greatness of my family. My mother was known for her cruelty, her mercilessness, and her dark beauty. My father was known to be sadistic, furious, and his unyielding power. My sister was known for her dark sultry power, her nefarious and wicked ways, and her ability to manipulate anyone. My younger brother was known for his bloodlust, his dark intellect, and his cold-heartedness.

I, on the other hand, was known for my gentle nature, my passive and shy personality, and my soft-heart. I was the shame of my family.  The Watanabe clan was known for their long lineage of dark witches and warlocks, but somehow I was skipped the darkness that dwelled in all our hearts.  While my mother can laugh at flaying humans, my stomach stirred at the thought. While my sister can easily hypnotized people into leaving and murdering families, I went teary-eyed while watching Lion King. While my father could keep his humans tortured and in our basements for weeks, I hid hurt animals in my room. While my brother could curse a whole town in one hour, I can nurture a garden with the flick of my wrist.

My parents, while cruel and wished to have the human race bow at their feet, were very loving to their children and family. We believed that family was all we had and the root of our strength. To turn back on family was to turn back on our lineage.

“Pricilla.” My mother cooed. I turned my dark eyes to my mother. She was beautiful, with dark bronze skin, a long thin nose, and wide mouth. Her eyebrows where dark and thinly arched; it framed her dark, molasses eyes perfectly. “What do you have planned for your new school?

“Ah,” I stammered nervously and raked my mind for something. “I’m going to let loose the lab rats?” I offered weakly and my mother frowned.

“Oh my sweet girl.” She pet my head with a cold hand. “Think a little harder.”

“I’m going to make the principal fuck a student.” My sister, Dyaus, puckered her lips and applied dark burgundy lipstick on her full lips. Dyaus was the beauty of our family. She had thick, long, dark hair. Her skin tone matched our mother’s, but she had green eyes like my father, his full lips, and high cheek bones. She was tall, leggy, with a large bust and thin waist and narrow hips. Dyaus used her looks to her advantage, slept around and wore her promiscuity as a badge of her power. She had a penchant for hypnotism and was able to make anyone do her bidding.

“Ruining someone’s life?” My father perked at the idea. “What else?”

“Maybe I’ll have him kidnap her and kill her. Maybe make him send her in pieces to her family.” Dyaus cackled and I winced at her harsh laughter.

“That sounds lovely.” My mother smiled fondly. “How about you, Hadrian?” My younger brother of seven looked up from his book. Hadrian was the smartest of our family. His skin was much paler than ours, matching our father’s pale skin, but his coloring was all my mothers with dark hair and dark eyes. His mouth was small, full, and high cheekbones.

“I’ll just start a fire at the hospital.” He said dully as he flipped through his book of ancient torture devices. “It’s my go to in new environments.”

“That’s my boy.” Father patted his head and Hadrian scowled at him.

“I’m going to kidnap the mayor’s child. Do you fancy a servant for a while?” Father was a large man, pale in skin color with rippling muscles. He had light green eyes, a full mouth with high cheek bones and dark hair.

“I love when you bring home toys.” Mother cozied up to my father. They whispered to one another and my mother giggled girlishly when he kissed her neck.  I sighed and fiddled with my dark hair anxiously. It wasn’t that I didn’t try to be cruel like my family, but it was difficult for me. I wished to be the dark witch like my mother was known for. The Watanabe clan was feared for. Her family went far back and I just wanted to uphold the family’s arts just like every Watanabe was before me.

“I’m going to go and see the town.” My sister slipped on a pair of clunky wedges.

“I’ll come!” I stammered and immediately glued myself to her side.

“Teach your sister something won’t you?” Father suggested to my older sister and Dyaus rolled her pretty eyes at him.

“Let’s hope it sticks.” I bowed my head embarrassed as I followed my sister out of the house. Her fingers grazed the blooming rose bush near our front door and the flowers wilted from her touch, the leaves blackened as the petals shriveled beneath her fingers. I frowned as I followed her out and brushed my own fingers against the dead flowers and watched as they flourished with life.  It was a working project, my cruelty that is.

About Bree

Posted: September 28, 2015 by Bree Jalique in Uncategorized
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My range of writing tends to branch out everywhere. I’m inspired by everything and sometimes my inspiration leads me writing different stories which results in several unfinished novels. Most of my stories are based off of continuous dreams I have. I write mostly science fiction, fantasy, and supernatural.I make most of my main characters people of color because as someone who is half Latino and half Asian there isn’t enough heroes who look like me.

I’m currently working on two different projects that I’m debating on which to dedicate my time to.