Damien Exton

“Hands” by Damien Exton

Submitted to Contest #272

When you’re alive, nobody prepares you for seeing the hands of your killer.Those hands, you’ve watched them operate in normal life, doing vanilla things we all do: scratch a nose, juggle a biro, thrum fingers on a tabletop in thought. You’ve seen them do good things. You’ve been there, you’ve witnessed those moments, and you were happy to witness them. They made you feel glad to be alive, glad to be a part of this wonderful tribe called humanity. I give; you reciprocate. I am your brother; you are my sister. We all make out well and share ou...

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“Fluid As Mercury” by Damien Exton

You tell the boy how many times you’ve saved his life. You see and feel that the boy believes the words you speak into his ear and into his head. You are leading him. You are his savior, his yeoman, his polestar, his mentor. Even though he’s never seen you, you can feel his feelings and hear his heartbeat when you are at his ear. You and he are one now. If he tried to mislead you he would be lying to himself and it would be futile. He knows this. You can feel that too. It’s good to be on the same page. You’ve told him about the lig...

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“Teddy” by Damien Exton

Submitted to Contest #221

My name is Teddy. I’m ten years old and a demon wants to eat me. I can see it but nobody else can. I can talk to it but nobody else can. The demon screams at me at night but I don’t get scared. Even when I see spit drip from its sharp black teeth as it tries to bite my head off I’m not afraid. I’m ten after all. I’m not a baby.  I can’t tell my mom or dad about the demon and they wouldn’t believe me anyway. There are rules that you have to obey when a demon owns your soul, and one is that mom and dad can’t ever know. Nobo...

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“Terrier’s Shop Of Curiosities ” by Damien Exton

Submitted to Contest #220

He looked down at his feet. Are these my feet? I don’t recognise them at all, he thought to himself while absentmindedly massaging his left earlobe between thumb and forefinger. The world was a carpet of sand and dunes, which reflected the phosphorus sun into his naked blue eyes. His newly found feet temporarily bruised sand grains which caught in his hair but were invisible amongst it. I have sandy hair, he realised. How curious.He surveyed the vista through eyes which were being mithered by the golden fringe falling into his face. It ...

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“The Finger” by Damien Exton

Submitted to Contest #219

Chester Merril's index finger on his right hand found itself restless during its drive home. And it began to wander. With a tranquil mind he journeyed, the radio thrumming low as he daydreamed his way to the posterior of the standstill traffic. The restless digit couldn’t be trusted this afternoon, but Chester didn’t realise this. If he had, he would have taken precautionary measures. He was a good man with good intentions, and normally, well-behaved fingers.   His car was stationary now. His neighbours-at-wheel, the same...

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“Spies At The Library” by Damien Exton

Submitted to Contest #218

She’d felt them hiding out there for an hour now she supposed, though it was closer to two.Right out there in the bushes that spoke sibilant whispers through her bedroom window; lime green snakes hissing lies on the breeze.She knew someone was there without even the need to look. There they were, veiled amid the petrichor and rotting mulch. In those detestable bushes that scarred the Pritchard’s house opposite. That house. Among these houses. Each as neat as a curtsy.She’d always thought the foliage a pockmark on the face of the street. Unbe...

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“I’m Bryan Adams” by Damien Exton

Submitted to Contest #217

*Hello. Damien here. My Story below contains some dialogue and imagery that some people may find disturbing or upsetting. I wouldn’t - as a reader. But that’s just me… But I understand if anybody does. Thank you******I’m Bryan Adams.I'm gonna run to you.I know that when you look at meThere’s so much that you just don’t see.But wait. Is that my fault? That you don’t see me? Is it my fault that you don’t understand me? Or is that the role I’ve unwittingly cast myself in? Made myself a martyr. Am I secretly wanting to be a slave to your tempera...

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“Loyalty Points” by Damien Exton

Submitted to Contest #216

“The fuck are we meeting in here for?”“Sit your arse down. Act normal. And cut the swearing”.“Hate these places though. Why here. Seriously?”“If you mean: what are two hard-nut hitmen doing in a calm respectable place like this first thing Tuesday morning? Well, there’s a few reasons. For now though, just sit down. Shake my hand, and smile like a good 'un. That’s it. Look; we’re two guys on business, talking a project over. Something like that. So watch the language. Got it?”“Hnnn-Kay”.“Good. So, you don’t like it in here? Rather meet up in ...

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