The Prodigal Son (5/5) By Joe Hakim

(1/5), (2/5), (3/5), (4/5), (5/5).

what the fuck you looking at?// one of them shouts let's just go// graham says fuck 'em// i say// this is our planet, not theirs what you on about?// graham pants get the fuck out of here// another one of them shouts the empty glass sails over towards us/ it shatters as it hits the wall/ graham ducks out of the way, but i have erected a kinetic field so nothing can touch me/ graham gets up as the lads come over towards us/ one of them darts over and intercepts graham before he can get out of the door/ the leader grabs my shirt and pulls me up out of my chair

we know what you are// he hisses// so get the fuck out of here, you little druggy cunt i can hear what he's really saying/ i can hear the frequencies intermingled in his voice/ so I smile and say// i know what you are// and then I pick up my glass and shove it in his face

it shatters on contact and he falls to the floor/ i marvel at the blood on my hands/ the outline field has been improved/ to the untrained eye it looks as though the lad is actually human/ but I know the truth/ his slaves are stunned by my actions/ they're not outline men, they're just slaves/ their reaction is all too human/ they pause wondering what to do/ while their leader lies bleeding fake blood/ you might fool everyone else// i scream// but you'll never enslave me graham takes the opportunity to duck out of the door/ as the outline man's colleagues grab me and begin hitting me in the face/

one of them checks on the leader while the rest drag me outside into the street/ they throw me onto the floor and they stamp on my hand, breaking it/ i howl but they carry on/ their fists striking me like sticky sweaty summer rain/ they're going to kill me now/ tonight the battle for the fate of the universe will be fought on hessle road

the leader stumbles out of the pub/ blood still pouring from his fake face/ he comes over and his slaves pull me up so he can punch me repeatedly/ my eyes are flickering/ i have to try to keep myself from blacking out/ when things go dark/ i see the faces leering at me/ the effervescent smiles of the outline men/ assured of victory/ because once i'm gone, who's going to stop them? wait, wait, please// i mutter// as blood and broken teeth fall from my mouth// i've got summat to tell you the leader lifts up my head and says// look what you've done to my face

the pause is all i need/ i move my hand up and jab the shard of glass i had concealed into his throat/ he stumbles back, eyes wide in shock as blood spurts out from his neck/ his slaves drop me and run over to him/ i can't help but be impressed by the sheer sophistication of the leader's transmission/ i assumed he would just blink out of existence as the field disintegrated/ but his death throes appear all too human/ and i have to look away as he passes back into his own dimension

the room is white and quiet/ this where I awoke to find myself/ i have just been told that the leader died in the street surrounded by his followers/ they have just told me that I am to be charged with his murder/ they couldn't understand why I laughed/ couldn't understand why I told them I had just saved them and everyone they knew from certain doom they think I'm insane/ they will lock me up and feed me full of chemicals to stop me receiving any more signals/ what they don't realise is that the transmissions have stopped because i have won

i am starborn/ and this universe is mine

Fiction - Dig Your Own Hole By Joe Hakim
	Things were going well. We were on schedule and under budget, Chris Chambers, so my boss was chuffed to bits. "It's going to be a good year," he said slapping me on the back, a huge shit-eating grin plastered across his face. As he looked around the building site, he tipped back his hard-hat and his chest expanded like a proud father watching at his children running around. Read more...

Fiction - Load the Cards By Sean Davey
	Loading up the cards and I start thinking. I think about casino's, and all that is. Imagine a building dear reader, where degenerate, and often eccentric behaviour is not only the norm. its positively encouraged. Heavy drinking and gambling is as much a part of the punters mind as work, or going for a meal. Its just what they do to get their kicks. Read more...

Fiction - Charity Begins in the Toilet By Shep
	Like most stories this one starts at the beginning with a middle aged man kissing a middle aged woman on the middle of the lips. I'm not sure where the middle starts or ends but I'm fairly sure its centre is an equal distance from these two extremes. The man's head jacks back and forth like a mother bird trying to vomit out some nourishment to her Read more...

Fiction - Goths in Denim (I only dress like a Goth!) By Jason Ince
	'That can't be the time!' I scream, staring at the clock-slash-radio-slash-CD player. This is the last time I try a DVD marathon within one day, I'll kill Stanny for suggesting it to me. The phone starts to vibrate before the ringtone kicks in. It's Clark's tone...again, 'damn you, Clark!' I charge across the room and leap over the chair and snatch the mobile. Read more...

Fiction - Absinthe - A Cautionary Tale By Sean Davey
	In pursuit of the perfect high, man invented absinthe, and I among others regularly enjoy its powerful effects. But on some days, store-bought brands are far too timid for the task at hand. On these days we need the homemade stuff. Created in garages and lofts, jam packed with wormwood and all those other alpha-terpenes to get the brain synapses into full gear. Read more...

Fiction - Punishment By Nick Quantrill
	Punishment by local crime-fiction writer and thisisull.com contributor, Nick Quantrill, has won a nationwide short-story competition run by HarperCollins. Entrants were invited to submit a story of no more than 1,000 words in the crime-fiction/thriller genre. Here's what the judges had to say about Punishment : 'We were impressed with the use of Read more...

Fiction - Friday Feeling By Nick Quantrill
	Friday 3pm It was building up to being another busy Friday afternoon shift. It was probably no busier than any other shift, but the extra tiredness that Detective Constable Maynard felt by this point made them feel that much longer. He had been sent to Young's general store in East Hull straight after attending a suspicious death over on the other side of the city. It was Read more...

Fiction - The Morning After By Joe Hakim
	They'll be here soon. There's nothing much to do other than wait, so I make another strong cup of coffee and light up another cigarette. Even these seemingly arbitrary actions are cast into a new focus now. This patch of time I'm occupying is a bridge - a bridge that spans the space between the way my life used to be and the way it's going to be. I look around my living room Read more...

Fiction - In A Room By Joe Hakim
	I wish there were bars so I could hold them, wrap my fingers around the cold steel and press my face in between them, but it's just a room, I'm in a dark room with no windows and no features, so I just sit and think and think and think. I am a captive, a hostage in a foreign country. I'm apart from my family and friends and I don't know if I'll ever see them again. Every so Read more...

Fiction - Off To See The Wild West Show Part 2: Prologue (June 1904: Hull, Yorkshire) By Frank Beill
	From the outside the two-storey building looked even more forbidding now than the first time I saw it. Eighteen more years of Hull soot had turned bricks from red to dark brown. The dank smell of Grandmother's skirt returned to me. I caught my breath. So many emotions stirred inside me. Doors in my mind that I'd kept closed for so long were opening again but this time Read more...

Fiction - Buried In The Past By Joe Hakim
	Arriving back in Hull, the first thing that hits me is just how much hasn't changed. As I walk down Princes Ave, I look at all the café bars that have sprang up to replace the odd little shops and businesses that used to line it, but it still feels the same somehow. There's a kind of progress, I suppose - even if progress means it's starting to resemble everywhere else in Britain - Read more...

Fiction - Red Carpet Blues By Steve Rudd
	'One more word out of you, and it'll be your last - I promise.' The ice-cold gun nudging Ellie's temple was motivation enough for her to keep her mouth shut, as she trembled with fear. She daren't even sob in case her captor construed that any form of noise was reason enough to blow her brains out without further ado. So much for being a superstar in her own right, Read more...

Fiction - 'I Do' By Steve Rudd
	Nobody told me marriage would be like this. I thought it would be bliss, day in and day out, but problems soon surfaced, after our hastily arranged elopement in good old Gretna - that bizarre little settlement that straddles the border between England and Scotland as though it can't quite decide where it stands; where it belongs; which side of the metaphorical fence it is Read more...

Fiction - Two Sides : A Friday Night Out In Hull By Joe Hakim
	I'm just finishing off at work, watching the clock and loading the pot-wash with plates and cups, waiting for Sarah to start her shift so I can go home. It's been a really busy day, so I'll be glad to see the back of the fuckin' place. I've been working at Sparks cafè bar on Newland Ave for over a year, but it's only been in the past couple of months it's got really busy. Fridays are Read more...

Fiction - Complicity Part 6 By Nick Quantrill
	Complicity is the new crime-fiction novella set in Hull featuring Detective Sergeant Coleman and Detective Constable Maynard. The thisisull.com serialisation is accompanied by the stunning black and white photography of Roland Standaert, which illustrates the story and takes a unique look at the city. Complicity and other stories are available for free. Read more...

Fiction - Gloomy Sunday By Joe Hakim
	As we got closer I could see it framed against the horizon. From this distance it just looked like a huge black shape, like a giant lump of coal or something. "Jeezus, it's huge," I said. "Yeah, I'm guessing it's a male," Mike said. "Could be about fifty tonnes of whale washed up down there." Mike was a marine biologist. He'd been given the task of studying Read more...