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I was standing in the kitchen door to my grandma's house. The aged wooden floor creaked as I took a step in the outer room of the old structure built with bricks, wood and tiled roof. The familiar dusty, mouldy smell hung in the air. The tiny room looked just like I remember seeing as a child, dimly lit with the yellow light of a kerosene lantern which gave every piece of the ancient wooden furniture a golden sheen. This was my second clue that I was dreaming, since the house in question was demolished decades ago.

The first, of course, was the hooded figure sitting in front of the grand piano.

Dreams are interesting. It's very difficult to hold a conscious thought like "OMG! I am dreaming!" for over a second but it’s very easy to just know things without a shadow of a doubt. Kind of the way I knew that I was staring at the back of Death herself.

As I approached her cautiously, the piano had changed into a big black machine with slots all over it. Playing cards were popping out of random slots. Death was rapidly catching and feeding them back in the machine with dozens of wrinkled bony hands, filling the room with the soft clinking of glass bangles.

"You humans breed like rabbits nowadays," she rasped aloud just as I was about to try and creep close enough to see what was under the hood. She turned, shadows oozing out of her black robes and dancing on the discoloured walls with the frantic activity of her hands. Under the shadow of her hood, all I could see were two eyes shining like red hot coals. Cards kept flying all around the room.

Terror gripped me like it only can in a nightmare.

"Wh-wh-wh-what are th-those?" I managed to stutter. The room spun as she put the machine between us. Suddenly, she was a casino dealer, complete with a white shirt, black tie and orange waistcoat. She was now dealing cards over the machine, or was it the grand piano again?
"Souls, boyo, souls of your kind, overrunning the world." Despite the changed appearance, the voice was the same. Old, tired and raspy.

"I have a limited number of cards for every kind. These days I have to fill some openings in your department from the unused stock from the animal kind that you are bent on exterminating. Don't blame me if you have some wolves and hyenas running in human skins. We are only trying to maximize the utilization of available resources. Standard company policy, you know," she was explaining it to me, now as a typical HR employee, sitting in a meeting room just like the ones in my office, handing me some documents over the piano. They looked awfully like the notes we used to take in school.

"So I'm a card too?" Curiosity had replaced my fear by now. She started chalking equations on the blackboard in my old school classroom. "You are of the most common ones of the pack. The probability of..." She started explaining it like my maths teacher. My mother had once told someone that math scares me more than death. I don't think she thought I'd have an opportunity to do a direct comparison. Proving her right, I interrupted Death and asked, "Excuse me ma'am, but what card am I?" She scowled at me just the way my grandmother used to when I asked a silly question.

And we were back in the old house once more, with Death leaning over me as the machine hummed behind me. She was now as tall as the ceiling, only her blazing eyes visible in the darkness surrounding her. I took a step back involuntarily and heard glass crunching beneath my feet. I looked down to find the whole floor covered with jet black bangles broken in a million pieces. There wasn't any pain. Just the cold, dark fear gripping you in your chest till you can feel your heart hammering in your throat. Till you're suffocated. Till you're paralyzed.

She reached in the depth of her robe with one of those hands as I backed into the machine and pulled out a card and held it in front of me, face down. "This isn't you, boy," she rasped," You are in the machine now. This one is a housewife who recently... shuffled out." I pulled the card, turning it as I did.

It was the ace of spades.

I asked, confused," Didn't you say this was a housewife? Shouldn't an ace be for maybe, I don't know, presidents and kings and CEOs?" Death chuckled in her throat. "That's the potential of the card. But only if played right in the right game. In some, ace is the highest there is. In others, it’s just a lowly one, lowest of them all," she explained while taking the card and, with a flick of a wrist, tossing it behind me. The machine hummed and clicked as it dropped right into a slot. As I looked back at it, I realized that I could barely make it out with all the haze in the room. Or was the lantern giving out? The shadows lengthened around me, till I could barely see anything but the sparkling red eyes. The jingling of glass was so loud now that it was deafening. It started to sound a lot like my alarm clock.

"What does this all mean? What am I supposed to do?" I shouted over the din, struggling to keep the incoherent dream from falling apart.

The last thing I heard was her voice whispering to me, "Stop playing the wrong game."
A deathly chat
Inspired by, believe it or not, a half forgotten dream that I managed to jot down before I forgot it completely.
Written for FFM 2. Yes, I'm running late.
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"What do you think Watson?" Sherlock Holmes asked me with a sideways glance while lighting his pipe.
We were called to the Humfree estate at the edge of the gloomy reaches of Dartmoor by Lestrade very early on a Wednesday morning. Upon witnessing the number of constables in present at the manor, I rightly guessed that the Lady Humfree must have been murdered. Lestrade took us immediately to the dining room which was indeed the crime scene. The corpse of the lady was sitting at the table, as if waiting for the food to be served. In front of her, a square piece of cardboard lay on the table with five different coloured pawns scattered around it. Nothing else of interest was present on the table. The cause of death was definitely the dagger that was protruding from her chest. My medical experience told me that the her sitting posture was very unnatural, which meant that the corpse was staged at the table after death. Her peacock blue ball gown shone strangely in the early morning sunlight streaming through the high windows of the stately manor.
As I was making these observations, my friend was employing his own unique and extraordinary methods to look for evidence. His question, as he was lighting his pipe, brought me back from my musings.
"I cannot make any sense of it!" I exclaimed,"There is too little blood here for a wound of that size, and it looks like the murder put her in that position intentionally after killing her. Am I right so far?"
"Oh yes, it's definitely a prop for delivering a message."
"A message? Are you sure the murderer has left a message for the police, Holmes?"
"My dear Watson," my friend replied, eyes glittering with a strange intensity, "the message is for me."
"For you?" Lestrade asked, brows furrowed," Who would do something like that? And why?"
"Oh, I'm sure you have read the recent news on the lady in the newspapers."
It was impossible for a Londoner to not know Lady Humfree or, as the tabloids had recently dubbed her for her love of exotic birds, Mrs. Peacock. She was a politically active woman and had recently taken a stand against the drug cartel supplying narcotics to the country. Her petition for better control of the narcotic import  had, no doubt, made her quite a few enemies.
"You think this murder is a message from the drug cartel?" Asked Lestrade, unconvinced.
"Oh no no no, it has come from an authority much higher than that. I assume that you're familiar with the board game called Cluedo?"
Suddenly, all the pieces fell into place. "Of course! Why didn't I see it before?" I exclaimed," Mrs. Peacock has been killed with a dagger in the dining room!"
"By thunder! You're right doctor Watson!" Said Lestrade, leaning to get a closer look at the pawns and board on the table, "But look here Holmes, the board is completely blank and isn't there supposed to be a  purple pawn too which is missing?"
"Not just the purple, the blue one is missing as well." I observed, joining the Inspector at the table," And there is a black one here which shouldn't be. What's the meaning of that?"
"Well, if you are looking for the blue piece, it's sitting in a chair in front of you. She's the Mrs. Peacock, isn't she?" Sherlock moved at edge of the dining room window, his thoughtful gaze wandering somewhere outside, "As for the blank board, I think it signifies that the known rules are all useless. We already know who killed who, where and with what. We must play this game as per the rules set by our adversary."
"But who is this adversary Holmes? And what about the black piece?"
Sherlock picked up the black piece and held it in his piercing gaze.
"The black piece substituting the purple one means that we have, instead of professor plum, another professor in the game. A professor who owns not just the drug cartel, but also the entire London underworld. The spider at the centre of the net is finally stirring. Professor Moriarty has just made his first move!"
The final battle
Written for the FFM day one.
The prompt is actually one that came up during the chat yesterday, 'CLUEDO'.
I have always felt that we need a better, firmer backstory for professor Moriarty than the bare few chapter given to us by sir ACD. (of course, given the fact that Moriarty was made out of frustration and desperation to kill off Sherlock meant that he wasn't made very convincingly) So here is my feeble attempt to add a beginning of a story in the mix.
I hope you like it! :)
Please leave remarks and suggestions!
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NaPoWriMo 5: "Hope"

In your heart sits a pretty little bird
Amidst all fears its song can be heard

Bigger the trouble that comes to hound
The louder you need it's sweetest sound

When nothing remains at the end of the day
Just listen to it, and you will find your way

It grants the strength to forge destiny anew
Yet it will never even ask a tiny crumb of you
NaPoWriMo 5: Hope
Today's prompt was: "Find an Emily Dickinson poem – preferably one you’ve never previously read – and take out all the dashes and line breaks. Make it just one big block of prose. Now, rebreak the lines. Add words where you want. Take out some words. Make your own poem out of it! "

I chose this one: www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/…
Because- well, its perfect and none of my efforts would ever match up to that. So no need to feel bad for myself. See? Hope can always be found in unlikely places.
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NaPoWriMo 4: Fault in our stars

I'm standing here numb clutching these flowers
How long has it been? Just minutes or hours?

They come one by one and talk about you
I know they except me to go and do so too

How can I say what I had long ago planned
When all I really want is to hold your hand

Despite your wishes, you have left me with scars
Perhaps just another of those faults in our stars.
NaPoWriMo 4: Fault in our stars
The prompt was: " write a “loveless” love poem. Don’t use the word love! And avoid the flowers and rainbows. And if you’re not in the mood for love? Well, the flip-side of the love poem – the break-up poem – is another staple of the poet’s repertoire. If that’s more your speed at present, try writing one of those, but again, avoid thunder, rain, and lines beginning with a plaintive “why”? Try to write a poem that expresses the feeling of love or lovelorn-ness without the traditional trappings you associate with the subject matter."

I recently re-read 'Fault in our stars' for the I-don't-know-how-many-th time and my first reaction to this prompt was, I want to write how Gus would feel if he survived Hazel Grace instead of the other way around.

The poem is sort of pushing the boundaries set by the prompt, I know, but it was the best I could do as of now. It still needs work. If anyone has any ideas, please note me, or comment!
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NaPoWriMo 3: About Bats and the Batman

After sunset do the bats take flight
Batman also roams around at night
But doesn't he know its un-bat-ly
To go looking for a random fistfight?

Bats wear black leathery shawls
In black the batman also prowls
But doesn't he know its un-bat-ly
To speak in deep guttural growls?

Bats hate snakes for spoiling their show
With 'King Snake' batman also had a row
But doesn't he know its un-bat-ly
To have some joker for his bitterest foe?

Raves in a cave bats love to attend
Batman also digs this cave-y trend
But doesn't he know its un-bat-ly
To hang with an old Fox as a friend?

Bats are awesome, we must admit
Though some traits batman does omit
But shouldn't he take classes from me
To notch his bat-ass-ness up a bit?
NaPoWriMo 3: About Bats and Batman
Since it's holiday today, I thought I'll try out the weekly challenge by the NaPoWriMo  group.

The challenge was: 
Bullet; Red  Hit the random deviation button, and write a poem based on (or inspired by) the poem you find.

So I got this: marionator4.deviantart.com/jou…
Not a poetry, but a journal update.
It made no sense, it made me laugh and it featured the Batman in it. Enough to get anybody's mental gears churning.

So Marionator4 , please keep inspiring random poets!
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AnuPdin
India

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:iconfotografka:
fotografka Featured By Owner Nov 17, 2011  Hobbyist Photographer
Thanks for :+fav::tighthug::happybounce:
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:iconanupdin:
AnuPdin Featured By Owner Nov 18, 2011
you are very welcome! :)
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:iconbrian-b-photography:
Brian-B-Photography Featured By Owner Nov 12, 2011  Hobbyist Photographer
Thank you for Faveing
Heres a:iconllamajumpplz:in return
Wanna Trade-em?
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:iconanupdin:
AnuPdin Featured By Owner Nov 13, 2011
lol what do u mean? im kinda a noob so dont know all the secrects of deviatart yet ;P
for instance i cant make the jumping llama like u can :(
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:iconbrian-b-photography:
Brian-B-Photography Featured By Owner Nov 13, 2011  Hobbyist Photographer
All I mean is that if you would like to you could give me a llama as well
They are free to give
and the jumper is easy Place a : before and after iconllamajumpplz :iconllamajumpplz:
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:iconanupdin:
AnuPdin Featured By Owner Nov 13, 2011
:iconllamajumpplz:
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:iconcumbriacam:
CumbriaCam Featured By Owner Oct 27, 2011   Photographer
Tnx for the :+fav:! :)
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:iconnarutopants:
NarutoPants Featured By Owner Oct 27, 2011  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thank you for all your comments! heres a Llama for ya :)
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:iconanupdin:
AnuPdin Featured By Owner Oct 27, 2011
lol thanx a lot!!
your painting style is awesome! tips plz!! :D
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:iconnarutopants:
NarutoPants Featured By Owner Oct 27, 2011  Hobbyist Digital Artist
haha np... and I am terrible at tips and tutorials and stuff like that, but tell me what you wish to know specifically and I shall try my best to explain :)
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