The Morbid Butterfly

fictional narrative

Rough draft

Horror story

By ,Lakira Mitchum

The repeated beating from the fear I feel inside when I think of the scratches and bruises I have from the mysterious man in the dark, he squeezes me at night and leaves his blood on the floor. I’m afraid of him of course but, what should I tell my parents when I see them tonight for dinner, “Oh, God Help me!” He peeks, through the window while my body is seeping wet and each night is a new fight. The Necrotic thick breathing I hear coming from the dark corner of room makes my skin unravel with a slow suicidal thought in my mind, I pace my self to approach the man in my room.Sickening noxious catastrophic he banged on my door with heavy heaping.



The snake that ended it all.. part 1

By, Lakira Sharice  Mitchum

December 18th 1725

The earth was quiet and her bones shivered  when  she took a step into the cold air, she felt the need to fear over what was to come as she began runway from Edward’s grasp. Emily was a  Broken woman with stolen dreams, a sad soul to behold.He only  desired her and her alone, he watched her cry by the hot fire often at night and, only wished her well with a sigh. She was pregnant and he was the new father of her widowed family. Her pale skin was still throbbing red from the lashes and whips she received on that Sunday morning for not wearing her mother’s dress to her husband’s funeral. He Was a cruel man, he was, he taught her that   fear works more frequently  than love, he taught her death more than life and now that her family was gone, so was her hope but, there was someone to admire besides Edward ,a man she loved, he only live a mile away. She was could almost taste his skin again she was making her way to him again only to feel desperate cold and alone. “Emily!” where are you!” he beckoned, in the starry night, he only heard the wilderness around his wooden home it seems he lost Emily and his mind. Edward was a man of power with a smile that could fool any man that tries him, and often did not enjoy seeing Emily happy, if it had nothing to do with him he needed a wife to fill the void of being a fatherless man, he had many lovers but, no wife. He felt as if Emily was his best fit she was widowed gullible and quite childish and pregnant What better choice than Emily. Emily wondered aimlessly only to find the cabin of a man named “Rose” “what are you doing in the cold?” he asked, Rose was a copper skinned man with a strong persona that could heal the heart of any human being if they trusted him enough, he seemed perfect and kind he instantly knew that Emily was a woman worth protecting, so he let her into his humble home. “Hello,  again Rose she said, “You remember my name?” he replied with a smile.  I need you more than ever Edward has beaten me again and I just want to be here with you again.” You are my peace and my survival” Emily cried, to Rose as if she had nothing left but him.

To be continued…

Marcher dans la boue

Walking through the mud

By ,Lakira mitchum

To love the Goddess;

Making a mess all over your T-shirt, spoiling the rest on dumb porn with nothing but, change in your pocket, you’er a mess huh son, you can’t even recognize yourself anymore.The wicked truth is your afraid to fail again so you’re walking through the mud.You’re making a killing at what you do, kissing girls and running rapid in the streets like a mad man.You’er hustling for something new, something small that needs diapers and only milk.So once again here you are standing in the rain waiting for mercy to save you.The anchor of this foundation you see was your mother, she saved you in some way, she taught you respect, and self awareness.You’re stronger than you think, your wiser than they say but, you need a standard.

The streets have nothing to say to you now.

Marcher dans la boue

You seek truth, It crawled  up and down your conscious for years to come.she was only 20 when you met her, and the sweat she left on your T-shirt is still’re a hopeful young man with excited  bright eyes but, what happened then, she left you speechless so to speak. So you loved her, and left it all behind to rot.

“Je vais embrasser la déesse qui m’a fait”

Say it loud… in the crisp cool air, come clean of your sins, you love a Goddess now, you love a mother now, the world hates that he’s honest with her. He is pure for her, as they grow old so does his fear. Alors il est courageux.

What I love about Edgar Allen Poe:

English literature


What I love about Edgar Allen Poe

Lakira Mitchum


There are many things we as the public actually do not know about Edgar Allen Poe, one he did not consider himself  a decent poet,two (the raven) was actually about his dead grandmother ; she was an evil old woman that haunted him in his dreams because she always hated him since he was little. Three its may sound unbelievable but, Edgar was  cousins with Walt Disney. Another cool thing about Edgar Allen Poe  he was  actually a very happy person that happened to be a extremely optimistic but, he really loved writing horror stories.His lover did die but, he didn’t like her as much as it seemed she was a very negative person.Walt Disney parodied Edgar’s work  very often but it was not obvious sleeping beauty was actually one of them but, not many scholars “sleeping beauty” knew Edgar wrote an very sadistic version of it and Walt in his own way imitated it by making Aurora seem innocent and naive.Edgar was a clever guy and his writings did not entirely define who he was as an person, he was very strong and eager he always takes a chances on strange perspectives of storytelling.Honestly if he was still alive I would probably be good friends with him, He was  corky, strange and honestly he had a dark sense of humor, He loved people and making new friends; but most of all he liked creeping strangers out with plays, poems and songwriting, he had an very eerie yet beautiful voice. He often played piano in minor keys and inspired the melody of the soundtrack movie Vlad Dracula. Overall we literally can not judge a book by it’s cover the cover, he had a lot more to offer than we thought.


As a Tribute to Edgar Allen Poe I will now write a short story of my own:


The red eyed Rabbit:

By, Lakira Mitchum


He was late a little too much, but this time he forgot to hide the body, oh yes Alice was innocent but, he thought she had evil intentions.He kept his knife safely in his coat so no one could see.

No one knew how smart he was though his red eyes saw everything. His eye were as red as the blood stains on his fur, it was obvious he had a problem, and if the queen found out she would have his head; “shoot, I’m late again, not again, not this time I will not fail” although he was never late in the first place because, he had nowhere else to go he was running, Running from himself.

He trailed blood throughout the forest carrying only her foot,”it’s lucky” he said, it’s my lucky day, and from then on out he was never late again.


The Horrors of Hunch back and Notredame


The sadistic villainous tale of hunchback and notredame, I could say

This movie traumatized me as a child, I was a gypsy girl with raven hair.

I could never relive that moment in life the day I saw that movie for the first time.

The humor is crude and sinister and the story is vaguely told.The irony in it all is that

The hunchback in notre dame is actually a true story.Not many children can brag about

This and definitely not  children of catholic parents. I can tell the story of Esmeralda in

first person.


To be continued.


King Of The Filthy Empire part 2

Part two

and all he could do was stare,he heard screaming and, groaning from places afar, and all of  those screams reminded Oba of all the girls that he violated and mistaken their innocence for something ,he thought he owned.He missed that time, he wanted to go back to his old life but, he was stuck in this twilight zone.

His raft eventually stopped and landed on a morbid shore drenched in blood along the river side;he took one step off the raft and onto the land where his feet sunk just a few inches  into the fetid,pomaded and slimy soil;where he witnessed a fallen king that he was once friends with, receiving a painful gruesome beating from six beasts.Each beast had a different weapon and each of them were large and they took turns spitting on him, it seemed that their spit was as strong as toxic ammonia due to the strong smell they repelled,Oba noticed the spit landed on his wounds, and his old friend was giving out a loud cry.Oba felt more distraught even more than he already was, but instead he began to run.He timorously ran away as fast as his legs could allow him,only to be tripped by a screaming woman that was injured on the ground.She  gripped his legged in such a way she practically dislocated it from his knee joint with a loud crack, his leg was broken.

Oba recognized the woman,she was married to his friend that was being beaten by the river but, her skin was so torn and filthy he wasn’t sure weather it was her or not; he managed to loose her grip and crawl, he was still gasping for air from all the gas in the air, eventually his eyes were bleeding so much he lost his sight but he was able to see a little 

Oba recognized the woman,she was married to his friend that was being beaten by the river but, her skin was so torn and filthy he wasn’t sure weather it was her or not; he managed to loose her grip and crawl, he was still gasping for air from all the gas in the air, eventually his eyes were bleeding so much he lost most of his sight.  suddenly, he heard a familiar voice say with a witty persona “This was all started by a mouse, this empire you once ruled no longer fancies your attention,your people hate you.” Oba, looked up to the dark and gloomy red sky to see a mouse standing three feet high.The mouse had white blood stained gloves on and a sinister smile on his face.

“you must be Oba,”as he continued to speak Oba kept crawling with all his might.The mouse , gave him a painful kick breaking four of his ribs,Oba gasp in horror.

To be continued:


King Of The Filthy Empire

part one

Lakira Mitchum

3 person narrative


This is a story of a  human monster named Oba,He is a powerful man that indulges in creating complete disturbia, he goes along with whatever wicked sick agenda he can conjure up, he eats the flesh of man and he has a fascination with mass destruction.He a complete maniac in disguise, he wishes, he was the Alpha and Omega the creator of man and himself.He lives in modern babylon and he likes to kiss the faces of crying babes as he walks on the red carpet.

He kidnaps virgins and steals their clothes.


He smiles in the  face of murder, he fears nothing, he wears a mask in a sinister masquerade.He is despised by shakespeare himself, he is the very pitiful in the  sight of George Washington.His prostitutes are fake like, worn out voodoo dolls.

He’s a broken machine; a sorrowful symphony not even Beethoven would  read. He wants to shake the planet but, he only shakes himself. This man stood tall on many podiums and told many stories to thousands,until one day after he finished pursuing his daily rituals He was confronted by an man in black he and that man said with a murderous voice,”Oh Oba, oh Oba,will you come here, I need you to tell me, all of your fears” and Oba’s response was, “See here, see here, I have no fears I am a man with many whores on my belt, and many swords on my lap don’t you see I am Oba the great, over the seven seas.”


The man in black disappeared and Oba journeyed his way to the house of virgins to drink  of his red poison, Until with a sudden cough he fainted into a long bezaar slumber.In his slumber he dreamed of seven things, that changed his nightmare into even colder screams.His dreamed spiraled into an dark stream, the stream was cold and the water was black, there was severed body parts floating by, he woke up to realized he was floating on  a raft made of  dead tree bark.He looked to see the man in black again but ,this time this man was eating a peach,” He looked at Oba with pitty and began to say”why so glum are’nt you the king of the world? pick up your scepter and rule your empire.”

Oba looked and choked a fake smile, and the man in black disappeared again.Oba realized he was in hell because, he recognized the smell of demons, he looked around and saw the trees were bleeding and covered in blood, and with a frightened stare he saw deathly hollowed souls crucified on the trees.Those souls looked just like him,he was looking at the man in the mirror.At that moment in heaven looking down on him  Michael the Angel, patted his sister Shiva and gossiped “isnt that the man that wants to rape you?” Her reply was with a toilsome groan “yes”, “I hope he suffers in the worst way.” Oba was shocked to see so many strange things at once and the water was surprisingly cold as the glaciers, he used to enjoy  melting so much but, this feeling, this feeling  he had, he felt like he was at home.

Oba felt an unsettling shutter go down his spine as he heard a annoying gasp of cackling laughter, “ahoy dumb stranger, you seem dismayed aren’t you the king of the thilty empire?” My name is Olaf and I hate you! “would you like to build to a snowman?” Oba replied, “in small tears, No, I would not like to build a snowman, and I uuuhhhhh aaa hatttette you as well”. “Oh you poor man, you better hide before the hunt begins Lucifer and his lost boys may find you they hate you more.”


Oba felt his blood rising up to his lungs, he began to smell some gaseous substance, and felt himself vomit and his eyes began to burn and bleed. It turns out the demons were doing a pest control check in that area, poor Oba didn’t have a chance.  

still floating on his sinking raft, He looks into the water for a sign of hope, only to find mermaids devouring a tortured soul a whore named Ms.deering she was drowning in her own pool of blood and fear.Oba pitied her but, was too afraid to save her from the deep cold waters; so he floated on.His mind went into hysteria and he became delusional his mind was in complete turmoil. 



To be continued:

A poem about modern entertainment:

Hollywood’s cannibals


In the scenes and broken records, they capture the hearts of many

with their lies and fake smiles, grinning with their heads spinning.

We follow them we admire them, we see them as heroes, some  are good and some are bad.We sing their songs remember their tragedies. Some die , some live to live to tell the tales of glory. Some were zombies from the beginning,but they will always live on forever with their names carved in stars.  Just when we begin to trust them, we discover the truth, we realized this was all a masquerade, they wore masks pretending to be our gladiators our heros, They often asked   “Are You NOT Entertained?” They bleed, they cry , they often eat each other alive ;it’s all for the show. “Do it for the crowd they whisper to themselves, it’s only show business” They take the pills, they swallow their pride and go out to fight another day in the coliseum we call hollywood.

Hollywood, a place of war , a yard of deception, a place of courage. It takes Balls to make it there. It’s hell on earth, but money is the only God they serve. They Win virgins , they sacrifice many, all for one cause. “FAME”.


Time repeats itself.


L.A post apocalyptic:story of Simon

post apocalyptic Los angeles

BY, Lakira Mitchum

Thursday morning I decided to go for a walk to the park, it was cloudy the air rinked of gasoline and oil, I felt the pollution in the air,and the tension amongst the citizens.

It would be hours before someone would disappear into another portal to see the great master.Some say he has no face , some say he has an insidious eerie presence.

All I knew was that I wasn’t ready to see him yet . I sat on the bench and stared at the trash on the ground; the grass was an horrid brown with an unsettling moistness to it; I often times wore boots to keep my feet clean.Los angeles was no longer a beautiful place it became hell on earth and each day was an challenge of survival.

Suddenly I heard a loud screech it was the fifty foot phoenix bringing an message from the great one,it’s been five years since we’ve seen it now it’s the year 3016.

The phoenix swooped toward the Hollywood sign and back into its portal, that means he had already delivered its  message to someone.”Simon”? I heard a soft female voice say “Simon”? I looked around to see my girlfriend Levette She wasn’t looking too well she was a bit pale. “oh hey ” I responded with lack of interest for her well being. At this point in time  it was every man woman or child for himself and to me she was a bit of a nuisance but, she was great in bed so I kept her around.We survived explosions together and after the Isis invasion how could I leave her now. I was a bit frugal about food , and had  been smoking crack to keep my hunger away my drug dealer had a pretty decent supply even in these hard times he was pretty useful. “Simon you jackass, let’s go before the great light hits us.” I stood up and took a sip of my beer and walked down the Avenue towards the saint’s shelter, where the christians served crappy soup dinners to street people like us.It was’nt until I finished the rest of my soup the dragon arrived.It was an massive bastard ,he ate everything espcially the people that were not under an shelter. He was at least 1,0000 feet tall and smelled like a toxic chemical plant. At this point I was used to seeing him, I knew the routine just follow the saints they knew what to do “Just hide and pray” Ms.Dodling would tell us. Levette would always cry bloody murder every time the dragon would arrive. This was how life was I accepted it ,I didn’t love it ,I just  lived with it all of this crap, the cannibals ,the terrorist the anarchist the criminals roamed the streets day and night no place was safe for anyone. I sometimes saw celebrities roaming the streets delirious and weak their wealth had gone away.Prostitution was common and. orphans were fending for themselves, the streets were bloody and so was the sky.

Monster: inspired by the Grendle


It’s sitting  in the dark waiting and watching  they call him; the bastard from hell.

Inspired by the novel by ,John Gardner The Grendle:

The year was 700 A.D, and I remember every breath we took every swing, punch and tumble

so realistically  I sometimes  wake up  in a cold sweat at night.

It’s spring  right now and the harvest is plenty  and, I still smell his blood on my clothes and skin.Flies flew around his corps, it’s been days since our altercation and I still feel  like i’m fighting the monster. There is no peace in my dreams ,the chaos in my mind is an enigma.

I still have shivers down my spine, my blood begins rush through my veins at sunset. I am constantly having an feeling of uncertainty knowing he is still out there  watching and waiting to  devouring our kin and animals. This unnerving feeling was exactly what he wanted, he smells fear  and thrives on it and the more I thought about him I knew he would come.

you can say I’m crazy with extreme paranoia but I have seen villages disappear in disaster because of this great beast.

His eyes are red like the skin of satan,his teeth are fowl and insidious, and his claws sharp like the finest sword. When he appears he stands like a seven foot tall giant with the body of a man.

his smell is repulsive and sickening like putrid vomit. I defeated him once,

I  am sure as hell I’ll defeat the bastard again! and I put that on the sword of my great great grandfather Hrothgar.