Blog #21: Sneak Peek=Chp. 1 of BLOODLINES #1: Land of Confusion

Posted: December 19, 2012 in Book Project

As some of you may or may not know, my brother and I co-created an author and a 100-book saga. Debuting in Jan. 2013 from author Darrell Scott comes a 5 year journey of lies, deceit, conviction, and realization as they not only discover the truth of their erased lives but the future fallout of mankind’s own future: BLOODLINES!

Please enjoy Chapter 1 of BLOODLINES #1: Land of Confusion.


“I’m going to rip your heart out…,”

Beaten beyond recognition. Battered to the point of death. Both swollen eyes, looking like pink and purple kiwis, seeped of puss and bright red blood. The nose was smashed into the face by a force stronger than any one man can physically do with a mere fist. Some teeth were missing, others were bent inward. Where the lips and cheeks were a smeared black and blue and drizzled in blood from the caved in nose. The mouth of the man was gaped open as if he was trying to inhale every breath of precious life he could; hard exhausted breath as if he just ran twenty miles before having the identity beaten off him.

Kalub Johnson stood toe to toe and chest to chest with the physically disfigured man, looking down at his victim’s face. Somehow, in his head, Kalub heard the world ‘victim’.

“Victim? VICTIM?! Oh No! No, No, NO! VICTIM’S don’t DESERVE the punishments that they are FORCED to ENDURE! YOU…,” his uproar lowered to a diabolical whisper, “…you, you fuck, Are…No…Victim!”

Kalub’s left fist was wound in the other man’s shirt so tightly, the skin on his knuckles tore open like a banana peel being bent too far. The thought of the other man as a ‘victim’ only enraged further. Kalub’s right hand had every shade of every color in the rainbow except for green from bruises, lacerations, and a smeared mixture of the other man’s blood and Kalub’s own blood mixed together.

Kalub felt no pain. Instead, he felt powerful and fueled with a rage that he never knew existed. Without looking away from the man’s face, Kalub blindly reached over to his right and he felt something metal in his hands. With his mind’s thought, he felt the metal was brittle and flakey, but solid. And thin.


Kalub brought the flat strip of rusted metal to his view and saw the wedge of iron in his hand. It was scrap piece of metal dis-formed triangular shape with rigid edges, looking obviously cut from a blow torch. With impressive speed, Kalub released his grip on the shirt and ignored the burning pain in his bleeding knuckles as he quickly reached up and grabbed the man’s lower jaw. His four fingers were wrapped over the bottom teeth of the man as his thumb was along the jaw.

Shoving the jagged metal into the man’s mouth, Kalub began to use the scorched ripped edges of the metal wedge and violently sawed into the man’s cheeks. The force of Kalub’s cuts were beyond vigorous as he pulled the man’s jaw side to side just as hard as the metal tore into the flesh of his mouth, like a person trying to cut a turkey in half starting with the ass end first with a hacksaw. Screams from the depths of Hell arose from the man’s throat as his mouth gapped open wider and as he screamed, the metals rigid side ripped into his tongue.

Kalub released his lower jaw and quickly grabbed a hard handful of the man’s hair, bending his head all the way back as he threw the metal scrap wedge behind him. His head folded back all the way like a step-pedal trashcan lid. The bottom jaw of the man seemed to flop downward like a broken tailgate.

“Let’s see if you like being FINGERED AND VIOLATED!”

Kalub yanked back harder on the man’s hair, gapping the man’s mouth open so far he could swallow a football, rose his right hand, and shoved it directly down the man’s throat. He felt the jaw bone on his right knuckle as it made contact, slightly gouging the already exposed wound.  As the walls of the man’s throat enclosed around Kalub’s hand, he positioned all of his fingers together like the top of a spear, and shoved his hand deeper down into the esophagus.

Kalub released his hair and grabbed the back of his shirt, pulling up on it as a driving force to shove his right hand down further into the man’s throat, like toddler shoving its entire arm into the top hole of a jack-o-lantern. The horrific screams of the man were gargled and gagged as Kalub’s forearm caused the man’s Adam’s Apple to lodge from its appropriate place. It seemed to want to burst through the skin.

“When I Said I Was Gonna Rip Your Heart Out, I MEANT IT!”

With this verbal threat, Kalub pulled up on the back of the shirt again and drove his hand, his wrist, and his forearm deeper into the man’s neck. The man’s eyes were bulging from their sockets, looking like sunny side-up egg yolks ready to pop. The man’s legs and life gave out from under him and Kalub allowed the now dead man to descend to the floor, letting his arm exit the torn throat with a handful of fresh flesh as he fell. A sprung leak of fresh red blood, a green chunky mixture, and an unknown purple fluid escaped out the mouth of the corpse as Kalub stood over his victim, clenching the flesh in his hand.

Book #1

Book #1

Discover more about Darrell Scott on FACEBOOK and on their WEBSITE (Write us anytime, we’d love to hear from you!)


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