Collect call to Brooklyn, NY
Tuesday, 20th August Greenwich Mean Time 8:30 am

AMY GRECH: (who always answers the phone like Sza Sza Gabor) Hello Hertzie dahhhhling. One suspects you don't have a wristwatch because where I live, it's THREE O'CLOCK IN THE FUCKING MORNING!!!!

HERTZAN CHIMERA: Happy Birthday, Amy. Can you hear that wonderful sound? Do you know what that is? I am burning Anne Rice novels in your honour.

AMY GRECH: Are you sitting in your own shit like I told you? Are you? Are you?

HERTZAN CHIMERA: I am indeed perched upon a stool of anal roses for you my dear. Tell me what I should do with this straight razor, as the crinkled black parchment of mind numbing filth lifts into the air like gay abandon.

AMY GRECH: I want you to slash yourself seventy-six times with that razor, Hertzie. Do it quickly and do it now! Start with your wrists and work your way down…Don't cut the skin vertically, if you do, they won't be able to stop the bleeding or sew you back up at the hospital and that would make for one short interview! Now hold the phone close while you do it so I can hear you whimper in pain! Ah, that's wonderful! You have perfect pitch!

Hertzan Chimera continues to hack at next door's Poodle with the razor - well, you didn't think he was really gonna whack himself, did ya?

AMY GRECH: That's the spirit. One long, straight cut for every story I've had published since 1995. Seven years divide by seventy-six. Imagine that shower scene in Psycho with the blade going in-out, in-out, seventy six times, too. Each penetration of steel in the spitting shower of death would take about 32 days, you could have a film crew racing around in the bathroom experimenting with multiple setups for every murder stroke. The possibilities are endless…

HERTZAN CHIMERA: (in a strong voice that belies his supposed agony) Yeah ... go baby ... hurt me for the longest time ... yeah ... yeah. At this point there is not much left of the Poodle, its guts spilled all over Hertzie's naked thighs. Suddenly, the cellphone becomes very heavy as Amy Grech downloads her suspicion across the radiovibe into the interview space - a stinking sex cubicle in some illegal part of Soho. Through the window, an S & M couple thrash each other with whips-they are covered in blood. Hertzan throws away the cellphone leaving a rainbow trail of D.N.A. that settles into her form. Anger in her eyes.

AMY GRECH: (face intense) Time to introduce you to some of the murderous characters in my new novel, The Art Of Deception.

Amy Grech gets back on the cellphone and downloads...

AMY GRECH: Meet Russell Silverburg. This American psycho makes Brett Easton Ellis' perfumed poseur look like a pansy. And you are about to find out what he can do. How pure his ambition is.
His eyes are walnut sexy and though his hands are soft as a ladies' from years behind a desk, his arms are hard and his cock tents the trousers of his best suit. Russell Silverburg lures his Resident Partner, Joan Clifton, over to the couch after a hard day's work. His eyes lock on her luscious lips. When he leans over to kiss her, she slaps him across the cheek. He holds her down with one hand while she punches and kicks fumbles with his fly and yanks his pants off, along with his boxers. Joan screams and thrashes, breaking his concentration. Russell wraps his hands around her delicate neck and squeezes until she is silent and still. As he forces his huge cock between her legs, he is shocked to see the pure hatred in her vacant, gray eyes. Unnerved by the ghastly sight, he reaches for the letter opener and gouges her eyes out with it.
Russell Silverburg has gaffer tape over his mouth and nose his face is dull, dry blue. He races in for the kill, first sending out mind pictures of how he will rape Hertzan Chimera in the missionary position after cutting his worthless throat.
But Russell Silverburg only swiped out at fresh air. Hertzan Chimera wasn't even there. He has morphed across space and time, his body like a stretched foetus as he towers over Amy Grech in the cramped cabin of porno filth, his broken toothed maw large as her head.

HERTZAN CHIMERA: (crimson screaming) Come to Daddy!!!!

AMY GRECH: Ah, the apple of my eye....... Hungry for more? Once you've had a taste you can never get enough! My work is very cathartic; it's a powerful outlet that enables me to unleash my rage on characters reminiscent of people who have hurt me and must be punished. Complete control is such a thrill! I love being in The Zone, you know, that place where time ceases to exist and I call the shots; I become an avid voyeur, admiring my creations from afar.
My stories all have one thing in common: plausibility. They are horrific because they could happen, at any given moment. My work has a way of getting under your skin, just like a straight razor, quick and concise. You might say I run the gamut.
Have you seen my Web site, Crimson Screams It's very bloody!