Wendy Belltolls on Gromet's Plaza Archive

The Cycle

Sat, 30 Jan 2010 00:00:00 +0000

FROM THE CASE NOTES OF DETECTIVE INSPECTOR JOHN BOTHAM

The one that affected me most was Lucy Owen.

I was on the trail of a serial killer who called himself The Cycle. He had already killed at least four women before I became involved in the case and managed two more since, each time following up with typed notes to the station full of sick, sexist, pompous psycho-babble about the cycle of life, the submissive role of his victims, how we wouldn’t catch him, yada yada, the usual stuff. His methods had varied, but were getting noticeably more theatrical with each murder; his earliest victims had been simply kidnapped and strangled, but later on he had developed a taste for more extravagant schemes, though asphyxiation of one kind or another was always the final killer, whether by drowning, smothering or even hanging.

The Cycle

Sat, 30 Jan 2010 00:00:00 +0000

FROM THE CASE NOTES OF DETECTIVE INSPECTOR JOHN BOTHAM

The one that affected me most was Lucy Owen.

The Forest People

Thu, 31 Jul 2008 00:00:00 +0000

Our village has always lived by the cycle of the forest, we rely on it for our food, our shelter, our materials, every aspect of our lives is provided by the spirit of the forest. And so it was that our religion developed around a respect and reverence for the forest, which is demonstrated most significantly in our Spring rituals.

We believe that to take from the forest, we must invest back, and to each year send one of our number to join the forest as a gift, or a delegate as you will. Each year someone is chosen, someone of good pure spirit who can represent us well, to be buried in the ground where their spirit will leave it’s human form and be taken instead into a fresh sapling which will grow into a sacred tree, our gift to the forest.

The Forest People

Thu, 31 Jul 2008 00:00:00 +0000

No More Secrets

Tue, 06 Mar 2007 00:00:00 +0000

Bret and I had been together for six years, and loved each other utterly, but I wish he wasn’t so damn nervous. I firmly believe there should be no secrets between lovers, but after a while it became obvious there was something he wasn’t telling me, and he most noticeably dodged the subject when we were talking about our fantasies; often when I would try to steer the conversation, especially during sex, in the direction of our kinky dreams he’d get all self conscious and ashamed and would change the subject.

No More Secrets

Tue, 06 Mar 2007 00:00:00 +0000

Final Weekend

Mon, 20 Mar 2006 00:00:00 +0000

They had diagnosed the cancer in June. Unfortunately by that point it was too late, operation could only reduce the tumour, and by November Joanne and her husband Geoff had to face the news that she had mere months left to live.

Joanne and Geoff had been together for eight years. They fell in love while both at university and married soon after graduation. In the intervening years they had had a happy if childless marriage, they had bought a cottage in the country from which they both commuted into town, where they both held good jobs. But the news of Joanne’s impending demise had shattered their world to its foundations.

Final Weekend

Mon, 20 Mar 2006 00:00:00 +0000