Video  —  Posted: March 16, 2012 in Uncategorized


Posted: March 15, 2012 in Uncategorized

“Do you smell smoke?”

“Don’t panic Moira.”

“I smell SMOKE.”

“You’re imagining things,” said Smecker as the fire alarms started to shriek.

Bloom walked to the study door and looked into the hallway.


“Well, Smecker, we appear to be on fire.”

“Told you.”

“Nobody likes a smart ass MacManus.”

Smecker put his hands on his hips, closed his eyes and sighed.

The main orphanage doors flew open with a bang.

Bloom raised her gun.

“Where are you little girl?” came a voice from down the hall.

Smecker put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

Quiet footsteps on the stairs.

“Got any ideas to go with those shoes?” Smecker whispered.

“There’s no way we’re getting out the front door with the little saint.”

“What else did you have in mind?”


“I have an idea.”

I got up and went to the window while my rescuers argued.

“No offense Bloom, but…”

“No offense?”


They turned and stared at me.

“I said, I have an idea.”

I looked to the street, then back to Smecker and Bloom.

“Three stories. 25 feet. I can make it.”

“You’re crazy!”

Not listening, I grabbed Mother Superior’s chair, spun, and threw it at the window as hard as I could, smashing it into nothing.

“I’ll meet you downstairs.”

I climbed up onto the ledge and jumped.

Smecker called my name as I flew to the ground. I hit the pavement with a crunch, fell to my knees.


I looked up to see Bloom and Smecker looking down at me.


Nothing broken. Bleeding, but nothing serious.


Smecker turned to Bloom. “She is definitely a MacManus.”

Bloom smiled her wicked smile. “Let’s go.”

I stood in the dark street, watching while the only home I’d ever known burned to the ground.

“Come on. Come ON.”

As I listened to the gunshots and waited for my angels I heard footsteps on the road behind me. The click of a gun froze me to the spot.

“Don’t move little sister.”

Video  —  Posted: March 13, 2012 in Uncategorized

Welcome to Hell

Posted: March 13, 2012 in Uncategorized

Welcome to Hoag Maximum Security Prison.

Home to the worst of the worst. Fights, murders, and lord only knows what else go on behind its walls. No one who goes through the gates comes out unchanged. Except, maybe, its two most famous guests…



“What is this?”

Murphy peered curiously into the massive pot, bubbling over on the burner.

“What do you mean, what is this? It’s perfectly obvious what it is.”

Murphy raised an eyebrow.

“It’s fettucine alfredo!”

Murphy looked back into the pot, then back to his brother.


Connor crossed his arms and glared.

“I watched the show, I did everything that SHE did! Don’t be so fucking negative!”

Murphy reached into the pot, prodding the pasta with his finger.

“It looks like glue.”


Murphy smirked.


“Oh nothing. Just trying to decide if we should serve this or use it to patch the hole in the kitchen wall.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Gentlemen.” The guard tapped his baton against the door. “Back to work.”

“Yes boss.”

The guard watched Connor tending to his pot for a moment.

“So…how’s lunch coming?”

“Depends boss.”

“Depends on what Murphy?”

“On whether you want people to eat or get some building renos done.”



The guard stepped closer.

“Sorry boss.”

A prisoner appeared in the kitchen doorway.

“What are you doing here inmate?”

He gulped. “I’m…Billy Hewson. I’m on kitchen duty.” He looked past the guard, nervously staring at Connor and Murphy.

The guard chuckled. “Another lamb to the slaughter.”

Billy hesitated in the doorway.

“Go on then. Get in there.”

Billy walked in, staying as far away from Connor and Murphy as he could, not looking them in the eye. Murphy watched, then nudged his brother.

“Connor?” he said quietly.


“I think he’s scared of us.”

Connor sighed. “Let’s try to make friends.” He smiled at Billy.

“Hello there! My name’s Connor. And this is Murphy.”


“No need to be nervous!”

Billy didn’t look up.

“I know who you are,” he said quietly, washing cutlery in the sink.

“Is that right?” Murphy replied.

“That’s right.”

Murphy stepped up behind Connor.

“I know who you are. I have a message for you.”

Billy spun, carving knife in hand and lunged for Connor.


Murphy yanked his brother backwards. The two stood, facing off against Billy. Connor put his hands up, trying to calm the man down.

“You don’t want to do this.”

Billy started to laugh.

“You took his family. Now he’s going to take yours.”


“All of you are dead. You. Your brother and your sister.”


Billy tightened his hold on the knife, looking at Connor like a trapped animal. With a roar, Murphy threw himself at Billy, knocking his head against the steel counter with a crunch. As they slid to the floor, Billy started to giggle.

Connor grabbed a cloth and held it to Billy’s head, uselessly trying to stop the bleeding.

“I think you’ve got the wrong family. We don’t have a sister.”

Billy started to gasp.

“You do. Her name’s Moira. She’s 14. 14 forever.”

He laughed and gurgled. Murphy looked down at the dying man as Billy’s eyes started to roll back in his head.

“All the saints will go to heaven. Hee hee hee hee.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Billy reached into his pocket, pulling out a blood stained picture and handing it to Murphy while he fought for air. Murphy looked down and saw his father’s eyes staring back at him from the face of a young girl.


Connor looked at the photo, his eyes widening in shock as the guards rushed over, pushing him aside.


“Out of the way MacManus!.”

Connor fell as the guards lifted Billy between them and carefully started to carry him out of the kitchen.

“How do we find her?” Murphy called out.

“All good saints will go to heaven!” Billy sang back.

The guards took Billy and left, leaving Connor and Murphy alone with the pots, pans, and the smell of burning pasta.

Connor ran his hand through his hair.

“Sister. We have a baby sister.”

“We’ve got to get out of here.

Connor nodded. “Don’t worry little brother. I have a plan.”

The Saints are Coming

Posted: March 13, 2012 in Uncategorized


Posted: March 12, 2012 in Uncategorized

Family is the most important thing in the world.

I wish I knew mine.

I’ve lived in the orphanage my whole life. Fourteen years of wondering who I am. Where I came from. The sisters say I was left here when I was just a baby with nothing but a blanket and a bible with a page torn out. They gave me the bible on my fourteenth birthday. I asked the Sisters what was on the missing page, and got the same answer from all. Accident. Page lost forever. Not important. How could they possibly know?

I never believed it. Not for a minute. It had to matter. IT HAD TO. That night I snuck into Mother Superior’s study, and tore it apart looking for the missing page. I knew she had to have it. I made it through her bookshelves and was halfway to prying her locked desk drawer open when I heard a cough at the door. I stopped in my tracks.


I rose to my feet.

“Is this about the missing page from your bible?”

“Yes Mother.”

She sighed.

“Some things are better left alone.”

“I deserve to know who I am Mother.”

“Some things are better left unknown, my child.”

I dropped my chin to my chest.

“Yes Mother.”

She gestured to the chaos I’d created.

“Clean this up and go back to bed.”

“Yes Mother.”

She stepped out the door and I turned to pick up the books on the floor.


Mother Superior fell back into the room. She hit the floor with a thud, gasping and gurgling.


I ran to her.

“I’m here Mother.”


She looked up at me, her eyes begging for help I didn’t know how to give her.

“You’re bleeding.”

I looked down at the hole where her heart used to be and put my hands over the bullet blast, uselessly pushing down as her life ran through my fingers.

“I don’t know what to do.”


Mother Superior gasped and gulped for air.

“What do I do?”

“Under the prayer book. Go.”

I rushed to the shelf, reached under the book, and pulled out a faded piece of gold leaf paper. I ran back and tried to press it into her hands.

“Here it is Mother. Is this what you wanted?”

“It’s yours.”



Running footsteps.

Shouting. Screaming.



Mother Superior let out a rattling cough, pressing the paper into my hand.


“I’m here.”



“He is here for you. HIDE.”

I got to my feet and slid behind Mother’s massive desk, curling into a ball underneath it as the man stalked in. He planted his boot on Mother’s chest, digging in his heel. She screamed in pain. He smiled.  

“Where’s the girl?”

Mother didn’t answer. He dug his heel in harder.

“I said, where’s the girl?”

Mother coughed, almost drowning in blood.

“God forgive you, my son.”

“Forgiveness has nothing to do with this.”



I shot to my feet and froze. Mother was lying on the floor.

Her face was gone.

Her killer was standing over her. He turned his gaze to me and smiled.

“There you are little sister.”

He aimed his gun at my head.

I closed my eyes and started to pray.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I give you my heart and my soul..”


No pain.

I opened my eyes and watched the Man pitch forwards, falling dead to the floor.

Two people were behind him. A beautiful woman, and a man with the biggest eyes I had ever seen. Smoking guns in their hands.

These angels of death had just saved my life. The woman looked me up and down and smiled.

“She has her father’s eyes.”

“I think she looks more like her brothers.”

“Do you… do you know me?”

The woman nodded.

“We’ve been looking for you sweetheart.”

“I don’t understand.”

The man looked at the blood soaked paper clutched in my hand.

“Read it. Read it out loud.”

I smoothed out the paper, and spoke.

“And shepherds we shall be.

For thee my lord, for thee.

Power hath descended forth from thy hand,

that our feet may swiftly carry out thy command.

We shall flow a river forth to thee.

And teeming with souls shall it ever be.

In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.”

I looked up in shock.

“My name is Smecker. This is Eunice Bloom.” He nodded to the woman. She walked over to me, putting a gloved hand on my arm.

“You are Moira MacManus, little sister to the Saints. And they need your help.”