• A little about me…
  • A little about me….
  • Film Credit #2 “The Intervention”
  • Film Credit #3 “Darrion: The RPG” I
  • Film Credit #4 | Real Estate Content
  • Publishing Credit #1 “Taiwo and Kehinde: The Wedding Trip”
  • Film Credit #1: “Constant Forward Pressure”

darrionjwrites

  • Assassins Curse I: “…her frozen heart.”

    August 23rd, 2018

    Urban.jpg

    Assassins were bewitched by her smile. Her thickness. Her full, succulent lips. Her sharp glances, piercing him deep.

    His hand trembled as he aimed.

    His red dot. Between her bosoms. Inches left of her frozen heart. All he had to do was squeeze. Empty his clip and end it.

    “Someone hired you?” She asked.

    “Yes,” He replied.

    “Who?”

    “Someone who don’t like you much.”

    “Shame.”

    She stepped closer.

    “What’s stopping you?”

    “Nothing.” He didn’t know what else to reply.

    Disoriented. Weak. Blind with desire. Consumed.

    She disarmed him with a smirk.

    That’s all it took. A smirk.

    His grandmother forewarned him about her.

    Son… Karma will come for you…  His grandmother would say.  And poison you with her smile…

    He never took his grandmother seriously. An old southern woman with superstitions and stories of evil spirits and spells. And curses. She wasn’t one to take seriously.

    She undressed him. Button by button.  Backed him slowly towards the pool.

    He couldn’t help himself. Frozen. Immobile.

    She circled him as she disrobed. Lassoed his neck with her nightwear. Lead him towards the bubbling Jacuzzi. Stripped him of everything he had.

    Gun. Knife. Keys. His free will.

    “Want to know something?” She asked.

    “What?”

    “I knew you’d come.” She pressed her warm body against his. “You have a possession of mine.”

    “Your heart?” He answered.

    “No,” she replied.

    “Your love?”

    “Getting colder.”

    “Your body?”

    “Keep guessing.”

    She was calm. Unlike her heart. Her heart raced.

    She pulled close. Fulfilled one desire. Fulfilled desires he was unaware of.

    “You owe me something,” She said.

    “I do?”  

    She nodded.

    “Want to know what?” She asked.

    “Yes.”

    She tiptoed to reach his ear.

    “Life. You owe me a life.” She whispered. 

    He staggered  back. Wiped his nose.

    Leaking nostrils. Red covering his fingertips.

    She kissed him on the cheek. “For all the lives you ruined.”

    He heard his grandmother’s voice… Calling.

    Come on home, son… face judgment. 

    No… Not yet… Please. Not now.

    He collapsed. Struggled to move. Breathe.

    “Sleep well, my love.” She smiled. “Send the devil my deepest regards.”

    Shit… 

    Read Part II here.

  • A quality young writer…

    August 21st, 2018

    Check out the short story “The Globalist Rebellion” by Alpha Lieu.

    Its a Twilight Zone, Outer Limits, Black Mirror kinda crazy.

     

    http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/tabithalieu/2013139/

  • “The Principles”

    August 8th, 2018

    Sketch Wing Chun

    The impact of my thunderous kicks to his shins crumpled him. Nearly brought him to his knees.

    He shifted his stance. Switched his lead leg. Shocked his horse.

    Didn’t matter.

    Still on the offensive, I sank lower and pushed forward– in my horse.

    Crack! The sound of my foot connecting with his fresh shin echoed through the Kwoon. I swore the impact shook the weapons and photos on the wall.

    I’m flexible but I’d never go for a taller opponents head. I’m short so I prefer low kicks. More efficient. Chop a bigger opponent down to size. 

    He thought of reaching for his aching leg. I saw it in his eyes. But he retreated into Full Gan Sau instead.

    I smiled. “Good… get away.”

    He Lurched his shoulders.

    I could tell he was frustrated. I saw it in his posture. Training this art would do that to you.

    “Simultaneous offense and defense,” I said as I stalked him around the sparring mat. “Both hands.”

    He lunged.

    I zigged zagged, covering myself at every angle. Batted (pak sau) his hand out of the air. Palm striked him in the jaw. To stun. Not to knock out.

    He took a knee.

    “Constant forward pressure.” I said. “Coverage. Horse.”

    I kept changing angles to keep him busy.

    He’s bigger. Wouldn’t dare facing him head on. That’s suicide. 

    “Always on guard,” I said.

    He went for the shoot, but I managed to sink into front horse and spread my legs wide so he couldn’t take my hips, all while dropping elbow and all of my body weight into the back of his neck.

    He stumbled.

    I struck him on his way down to ensure he wouldn’t recover quickly. He’s overly aggressive.

    Was he getting angry? He needed to calm himself. Breathe… The impatience of youth. 

    “Flow with the power,” I said as I backed off of him. “Maintain center-”

    He interrupted with a swing to my head.

    I weaved back, allowing his punch to fly over me while simultaneously covering and catching him with a low kick he never saw coming.

    He groaned.

    I’d stabbed him below the belly button with the point of my toes. Pressure point. Couldn’t have felt good.

    I wasn’t done. Only the first half of the move.

    “We are smaller.” I sprung forward and caught him with a savage Arrow Punch.

    My fist and his face collided.

    It was ugly. I felt terrible. He should’ve covered.

    The impact sent him somersaulting backwards. The impact sent a painful shock up my wrist and into my shoulder.

    “Less skilled.” I relaxed my guard and offered him a hand.  “Am I missing anything?”

    He smiled. Took my hand and allowed me to help him to his feet.

    “You okay?” I asked.

    He bowed several times. I could tell he was grateful for the lesson. Its why I chose him as a private student. As the one who will continue the legacy.

    “Lets go for tea,” I suggested. “Its on me.”

    He nodded.

  • In A Dominant’s Mind

    July 17th, 2018

    alien_conqueror_by_darkmatteria

    The Dominant climbed to the top of the Junk Heap mountaintop and looked down on his creations.

    The Dominant looked angry. And sure of himself.

    “I built this world!” The Dominant declared.

    The countless kidnapped, murdered, tortured, raped, bought, and sold Ancestors of Chattel Creations collectively narrowed their eyes at the Suburban Dominant.

    “Did I not build everything?” The Dominant questioned.

    Their hands. Bruised from beatings. Disfigured from twenty three hour a day labor, and weekly bone snappings when the Dominant’s ancestors didn’t believe their creations were working fast enough. Discolored from ritual burnings. Scratches from clamoring for the children being ripped from their arms. Soaked from, sweat, tears and blood. Their hands… fading slowly out of existence as its been for decades.

    “Of course you did,” The Ancestor replied as they began fading from the collective consciousness of the dominants– also known as existence.

    Chattels didn’t god-like, time and space altering power like the Dominant’s. How could they argue their own existence? There was no place else for them to exist and survive within a world not of their making or control– within a Dominant’s thoughts.

    They lowered their hands, deciding to accept their fates and allow themselves to be faded out of existence– also known as the collective consciousness of the Dominants.

    “Very good. Know your place.” The Dominant placed his flag in the center of the universe. “I claim this world and all its realities.”

    The Dominant’s wiped the Creations from their minds and all of existence.

    .

  • The Penalty for honesty… at work.

    June 20th, 2018

    What’s the penalty for honesty at work? I wondered as I pretended to work.

    I stared out the window for a moment.

    My heart skipped a beat when my boss entered the room. I froze.

    Gotta look busy. Look valuable. 

    She quietly entered her office and shut the door.

    What’s the penalty for my honesty? I pondered at I scrolled desperately through my social media feed for good news, a motivational post, or photographs of the nieces, nephews, and godchildren I never get to see.

    There’s a seemingly immovable forty hour a week boulder in the middle of my existence. Unshakable. Immovable. Virtually unbreakable. Boulder.

    I yawned. I stretched. I checked my text messages as I stretched.

    I wondered. If I revealed to them… I’m overwhelmed. Can’t seem to get a foothold on the work. Can’t seem to get it together. Can’t tell whether its boredom or incompetence on my part. 

    My stomach hurt. Terrible gas.

    I skipped breakfast. Late for work again. So much to think about. So much to do. So little time. Vacation was nothing more than the space between misery. Like work release or yard time. I was being melodramatic.

    What if I revealed to them that they need not smile in my direction. I know you don’t like me. I know you think I’m incompetent– when I make a mistake– and beneath you. I know you think I was hired to work under you and serve you– which I probably was. 

    I stood. Stretch my legs.

    What if I was honest with them about myself? What if I admitted to myself and to them that I was equally as fake? I don’t like you either. But I return your illusion with one of my own. Because I understand my role is to make them comfortable. And how crucial it is to the job, and my livelihood, 

    I sat. Powered the scanner.

    Error.

    I restarted the machine.

    Same results.

    I softly pounded my fist on the desk.

    I’m the only tool in the office not allowed to malfunction. And, the easiest to replace.

    I slumped in my chair.

    Can they tell I dig my nails into my forearms when they dress me down in front of my peers? Can they read in my eyes how much sleep I lose thinking about all the stuff I have to do the next day? Or the people I have to deal with. Or, how I can’t handle the amount of work they are tossing my way Probably not.

    “Good Morning,” One of my smiley supervisors greeted.

    “Good Morning,” I replied with a smile bright enough to overload a solar powered city.

    “How’s everything going?” Smiley Supervisor asked.

    “Excellent!” I replied as my face started to get sore from smiling. “Working on this and then I’ll head back and work on your stuff.”

    “Okay, great!” Smiley Supervisor said, returning to her office.

    Couldn’t afford to be honest. No matter how hard I crunched the numbers, I just couldn’t afford it.

  • Best Short Film, Spring 2018! Holla…

    June 15th, 2018

    Best Short Film

     

    I wrote and produced, with the help and guidance of an incredible team, an AWARD WINNING short film.

    All things are possible when you have a great production squad, great actors, and a great support system around you.

    Thank you Adam, Kristin, Zach, Art and son, Ucheoma, Cameron, Sifu Mike, Sister Shay, Brother Thomas, and the Wing Chun Md Kwoon.

    On to the next one.

     

    Best,

    Darrion J.

  • Omolola

    April 26th, 2018

    “You people?” Omolola snapped as the cold energy radiating from her palms enveloped the air. “What you mean ‘you’ people?”

    “Breathe,” Oshun pleaded. “He meant no harm.”

    “Bullshit!” Omolola cried as the icy blue aura ripped through her forearms, causing pain she was too enraged to acknowledge. “I dare him to say it again!”

    10932258_1482037672098627_270721695_n

  • Endless Expanse: Episode 5 and 6 (Conclusion?)

    April 4th, 2018

    The Russian killed a newcomer. And his violent actions may have ended their chances of ever finding answers or their way home.

     

    EXPANSE EP 5EXPANSE EP 6

  • Endless Expanse: Episode 3 and Episode 4

    March 28th, 2018

    This is the third and fourth episode of Endless Expanse.

    Darrion and the mysterious Asian Woman are joined by a violent third party.

    Mysterious Asian Woman reveals a secret about herself.

     

    EXPANSE EP 3EXPANSE EP 4

  • Endless Expanse: Episode 1 and 2

    March 22nd, 2018

    Endless Expanse is a sci-fi series I scripted on my Instagram page http://www.Instagram.com/DarrionJWrites.

    Six strangers appear in an infinite and colorless space with no food, water, or the vaguest idea of where they are and how they can make it home.

    EXPANSE EP 1.jpg

     

    EXPANSE EP 2.jpg

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