The train moved with a fluid motion across the triple width tracks. The front steam engine was a large monstrous amalgamation of steel, cast iron,and wood, the boiler stretched half a mile and stood just as tall, adorned in a mix between Victorian and Gothic architecture. The train pulled up next to a large dead forest. The trees stood impossibly tall with their leafless limbs sprawling in all directions.

The conductor stepped down from the large steam engine to the edge of a large forest, trees that held jack-o’-lantern like faces creaked and cracked to turn to him.

He was dressed in a long black and gold great coat, black leather gloves and matching black boots. Where a head would be, was an oval of glass, inside a cosmic dance was being played between galaxies of dark purple, black and red. Upon the theater of galaxies was a conductor hat, black as well, a leather knock at each side and a line coming across the bill, in the middle was an emblem of a ghost which shined of gold and silver. He brought his right hand outstretched, palm facing up, to head level and waited.

The trees stared as the conductor stood frozen, they could not understand yet, but soon they heard the wings. Through the tops of the trees a raven dipped and dodged branches and slowly descended to the conductors waiting hand.

The raven, as it descended, grew larger and larger. High above it looked to be normals sized, but as it came upon the conductor and flapped its wings to slow its self to a stand still, the wing span was several feet and the talons could engulf a persons head. In its right talon it held a parchment of rolled up paper which it dropped onto the conductors open hand.

With a mighty call the raven leapt back into the air and flew into the forest. The trees groaned in anticipation as the conductor took the parchment. It glowed a ghostly green and as he unrolled it, light emitted from it.

Written in the finest script, inked in shimmering multicolored black, were the following.

A story from beyond. For those that wish to listen please take the following story for your entertainment and expansion of imagination. I hope it finds you well. To the Midnight Tales.

Below that was a story.

The conductor rolled the parchment back up and returned to the train. The trees grinned wider and shook their mighty dead branches, the sky darkened and train let out a howl as steam burst forth from its might boiler and into the air.

The ghostly hotel had received another story.

The post was open.

Hey! The post is open, please check it out! If you would like to receive your stories by digital ravens to let you know to take a visit to the ghostly hotel, please sign below!

The raven do not permit spam, so do not fret.

A virtual portal will be available in your letter for you to travel into the ghostly hotel to hear more of the midnight tales.

We hope to see you soon.

The skies were ablaze with fire and colors. Sparks erupted and the sky was crossed with dragons and mystical creatures made out of balls of fire. Each comet that was launched from the ground carried a trail of glitter and as it reached the clouds exploded in a multitude of colors.

The kingdoms eyes turned from the sky to merriment that surrounded them. Shops donned the royal seal and hung banners that flapped in the wind of the royal house and kingdom. Cups and glasses clanked together in cheers for the long life of their king. A king that had taken the lands that they now held, brought them from the monsters that pillaged and burned them, and conquered the forces of a fantastical dark entity. Bringing in a new age, a time of prosperity,wealth and infinite possibilities. Through blood and death, he carved the road for pure hope for the people. To take their land back from the horrors that had been spawned upon them for hundreds of years from an unreachable darkness from beyond. He was un touchable on the battlefield, but time, that was another story. King Multon could not conquer the reaper of time. Instead, as if he knew when his time was up, as if the reaper was an old friend. He asked his servants to leave him alone, but bring him two glasses of Oxfum tea .That morning in a crisp autumn air, the king sat on his large terrace out looking at the sun rising on his kingdom. When the servants returned for his breakfast. The king sat motionless. Eyes closed and with a serene smile on his face. He looked as if he was recounting a pleasant memory. Both cups of tea had been finished and next to the one across from the king, a purple clematis. The royal flower.

The kingdom wept,but the tears soon turned o cheers and celebration.As the oldest son, which was out of four, rose to occasion and started off his fathers journey with celebration of a life lived, instead of one lost. The best of all customs were brought out. The gleaming winter plates and Ironic silverware, the finest of fabrics were woven into flags and banners to be hung out on the streets and deck the roads and passages with bright reds and golds. All the lights in the kingdom were lit and kept lit in his memory. The light that guided them from darkness had gone out, but the kingdom could light itself now. The oldest son and soon to be king, Peter, was a just and a strong leader. His father sat with him many nights and discussed matters that he thought would aid him when he would rise to the kingship. His brothers, while not trained, supported stoutly their brother and his position. Somehow the drama of brotherhood and politics for the throne was not present between them.

The final ceremony lay their father in tombs of Calic. Surrounded by large oaken trees called Laken that rose higher than most buildings, Calic had held all of the kings fallen trusted soldiers. It had been said that the reason for the Laken’s height and strength is form the fallen soldiers taking their final rest by their roots. The king had claimed his final resting place the moment he set eyes on it. The largest oaken rose in the middle Calic. The north side had a large gash which the oaken had never healed. The king would be buried infront of this gash. Hoping to bring the oaken more health so it could finally heal itself.

During the witching hour, the kingdom lined up all the way to Calic where the Kings body was carried by a carriage pulled by Filec horses. As his body past the citizens they cheered and knelt in honor, but as the carriage drifted out of their site, tears flowed freely.

Peter and his brothers lowered their father, the king, into his final home. His armor polished and forever protecting his body, his sword placed in his hands and shield laid across him.

He was lowered, buried and remembered forever.

The king is dead, long live the king.

I am reading the Dragon Bone chair, by Tad Williams. In the beginning the great king is very old and ends up passing away. There is a celebration and the kingdom is tuned into a festival of sorts. Unfortunately the sons of the king do not have the best relationship and some things are afoot with the new King. It is a great read so far. I wanted to capture that moment. Of a life being celebrated, but instead of the future looking dim and the unknown taking hold after the celebrations, having the kingdom be secure with its new king. Life should be celebrated when it is time to move beyond. Celebrate the memories, the person and the life that was lived. I wanted to capture that.

0% Angel was blasting over the surround sound system and a wailing came from the girl that lay across the floor. Her abdomen, arm and right leg had been hacked to pieces and she screamed in pain. Alexander sat on the couch, he leaned back, his left leg extending out and his right bent supporting his position. In his left hand which rested on the back of the coach he sipped Angel envy on the rocks. His right hand rest on the end handle of an axe. The blade glistening red with organic bits plastering its smooth surface, blood staining the light wood all the way up to where his hand rested. He stared at something that was on the low white marble table in the living room. His eyes dove deep into its structure.

Two hours ago. He received a package at his sixty sixth floor apartment. He was close to the top of the building, but this was the only place available when he went to buy. It was nice, floor to ceiling windows that looked out over the metropolis, he had furnished it with white marble tables and gray accent couches. His bar was fully stocked with the best liquer and few little luxies that kept his health in a good position. A knock came to his door and when he opened it a small wooden box sat at his feet.

A card read “From your friend downstairs” he looked at it curiously. He had met a few of the people from the lower floors last week, but he didn’t think he made that much of an impression on them. He gave a smile, well, looks like your more charming then you thought. He moved to the living room and sat down on his L shaped couch and set the wooden box on the table. It was a simple box, and he slipped the lid off of it with ease. Inside was a smooth ball which was covered in wooden packing material. He lifted the ball out carefully, below it was a small square dish that it would sit in that he took out after.

The ball was perfect, his hand ran around it and it felt smoother then anything he had ever touched. It was pure white, while the base was pure black. When set together they created incredible contrast. The light and dark seemed to fight to absorb each other. Alexander was entranced by it. His eyes could not peel themselves from the white sphere. It seemed to pull him in, the room spinning and darkening as the sphere called out to him. Whispers came from inside of it. They did not travel by sound waves, but seemed to transmit straight into his mind. He knelt forward his face only a foot away from the spheres. He swore he could see something in the there. In the middle of all that negative space. In the pureness that it presented. He could see, he could see…

The axe slammed down into the mans back, a slight moment of disbelief then pure chaos erupted in the room. The mans body tried to swing around, but the axe came down again and followed the body to the floor. It raised and fell with bone and muscle tearing at each heave. Some tried to fight back, but they were no match. There would be no disarming him, no escaping from the executioner. He hunted in the small space one by one, the screams, the prayers, the pleading. It all fell on deaf ears. But the axe would listen and answer each one until the last. The girl who now lay. Her screams and cries had now died down, shock had ran its course and death was now coming to retrieve her.

Alexander sat, the music still blaring in the background. Then came pounding on his door. The police had arrived much to late, but they had come. He had reinforced the door, so he could work in peace, but they would soon break it down.

He peered at the sphere then knelt by the table, his face a few inches away from it. He looked deep again. The banging Began to grow louder and louder. He set the axe on the table, blade facing up towards his neck. He held his head parallel with the table. His reflection looking back from the white marble table. He lifted his head up and for a moment held it there. Frozen in an unnatural pose.

He was the butterfly in the Atlantic, the pebble thrown in the glass lake, the hammer to the mirror.

He breathed in a sharp breathe and drove his neck down as hard as he could against he blade.

I just watched LongLegs. I knew somewhat about it before going in and I knew it had Nic Cage in it (the hardest working actor of our generation). As the credits rolled I didn’t really know what to think of it. It wasn’t terrifying, but something about the whole movie lingered with me, swirled around my head. I enjoyed the movie the shots/acting and sound were all on point. This story came to be when driving home the next day.

The song playing in the background is 0% Angel by Mr.Kitty

Careful what you accept into your home.

Cheers

The mall was packed wall to wall with people. The Muzak fought against the steady eb and flow of laughter and conversation that arose from the crowds. Simon held onto his mom’s hand tight as they pushed through the tight crowds up and up the escalator to the food court. His eyes wandered all around, from the neon signs to the rustic colorful facades that each of the stores presented. As they approached the food court, his mom stopped suddenly and waved towards someone in surprise. Simon looked, oh great, his mom’s friends. His mom was always running into someone and that delayed what ever they were doing by forever. They approached and the conversations begun. Simon sighed and gave a frown. Then something caught his eye. Between the pizza and sandwich shop was a dark hallway and above it was a neon red apple. He and his mom had been to this food court many times and he had never seen the apple before. Even when entering the food court he didn’t see it the first time he glanced over. His mom was preoccupied and she let go of his hand for a second. His feet moved quickly, as if being guided by some unknown force into the darkness until his hands pressed against something.

It was a door.

The door was much larger than any he had seen before, made out of wood and in the middle of it was a curved glass window that looked like a leaf with no features. He could not see on the other side, but as soon as he stepped through he could see back into the mall. He turned to see the room was long with floor to ceiling windows out looking the mall parking lot and park. It was admonished with brown accents like chocolate and the beams and walls seemed to melt and wrap around to create the rooms structure.Above him was a second level terrace that spanned the length of the room as well. The air was filled with kids laughter and excitement. The floor was a dark chocolate with waves of orange and cream in abstract shapes. Even the lights that hung or sconces that held onto the walls were a strange abstract shape of orange, yellow,brown and a cafe color. While the windows flushed the space with light, it seemed dark, cozy and inviting. In some places the floor sunk into tiny jungle gyms or what seemed to be lab demonstrations. A model rocket ship took off there and over there a helium balloon lifted a small milk carton off the ground. Simon stepped forward and a tall man in a white lab coat took note of him.

“Well well, Simon! I thought you would never join us. Welcome” The man stood tall, thin rectangle glasses sat on a face of sharp but warm features. His hair was a mix of black with white strands that were swept to the side. He knelt in front of Simon to be eye level and stuck out his hand.

Simon recoiled for a moment and gave the man a look “How did you know my name, Mr?”

“Ah, no need for any Mr. Here, call me Newton. Just like Isaac Newton, but clearing not me, just spelled the same. Your name? I am a good guesser of names, i was spot on this time” Newton held fast with his hand out, eyes formed in a smile.

Simon grasped what he could of Newtons hand .It seemed larger and longer than any he had ever seen. “Nice to meet you Newton”

“Welcome indeed, shall I show you around?” Newton returned to his towering stature.

“No, I should really be getting back to my mom, she will wonder where I am, next time” Yeah right Simon thought, this guy was mega stranger danger.

“Why not? You have all the time in the world. Look” Newton extended his arm and pointed through the glass. He could see where he had left his mom’s side. Her and the surrounding people seemed to be frozen in place. Simon approached the door and pressed his face against the glass to lookout the window. Not frozen, but moving incredible slow. So slow that he had to strain his eyes and force himself not the blink just to see the tiny movement.

“How” Simon whispered to himself.

Newton stepped upon next to him and pressed his face against the glass “Well, time can move at different paces depending on the entropy. This place is in extremely low entropy, time moves very slowly. But it is relative to the outside entropy. If - “

Simon stared up at Newton with a side eye.

“Right, one day. Come come, let’s show you around.” Simon followed Newton into the large room. “I want you to know, that no matter what happens to this mall, in the future or past, this place is always present. You can come and go as you please until a certain time, then , well you will be ready and won’t need this place anymore”

“You talk strange and a lot”

“I am a scientist my dear Boy, it is written in the rules, somewhere, regardless, here is the imagination station” Newton moved them to the left and to a large strange looking door made out of Greek columns of colors “once inside, use your imagination to create things and experience things you could never in reality. Test your ideas, build the tallest and most expansive cites, inventions, run them through the physics of science and nature of this world. See what you can come up with.”

They moved past to a Large open book that was fastened into the wall. It was turned to the middle of the pages and a door that was covered in text with a circle window was carved out on the right side. Above it said “Library of Infinity”

“Ah, here, you know how to read?”

Simon rolled his eyes “Of course, I know how to read”

Newton put up his hands “of course of course, this is the library, books, physical books, everywhere, there is an oracle that can find any subject on any matter from the greatest thinking minds, Next” They moved a little more down the wall to a glass door which was framed by two beakers “The chemistry room. Mix and match, play and explore the elements, we have supervision in there to help and teach, so you wont accidentally combust your self” he gave Simon a wink and turned around to the large windows “Over there is a interactive physics exhibit, there well , can’t remember what that was, but you can do what you wish with it. Explore, be curious, have fun and learn. Enjoy Simon, if you need assistance, find a tall person or me” Newton gave Simon a thumbs up and started to walk away before spinning quickly on his heels “Oh and make some friends, science and discovery is always funner with friends”

Simon watched Newton melt away in front of his eyes, like mist he dissipated in thin air. Great, he thought and looked around. In school he was not doing well in the science portion, math made his eyes glaze over and he gravitated towards drawing and writing. He moved towards the physics exhibit. As he stepped down into the sunken platform he noticed that it morphed and transformed in front of him,the book that sat in front of a ball hanging from a string turned into a pictograph of movements and arrows. A note book and pencil sat next to it and under it stamped into bronze it said “Pick me!” Simon pulled the note book off the table, immediately another one popped up in it’s place for the next kid to approach.

He looked towards the metal ball on the string and before his eyes holographic details filled his vision. Each one by it said draw me, which he did. As his pencil started drawing the shapes it asked, the note book became animated, connecting the concepts and showing how things worked, how the metal ball would swing at certain forces, he could draw lines and points that ball could drop from , put obstacles that it could hit to show the force that it had. Gravity, tension and then when it started adding other metal balls, showed him momentum. He smiled as he became curious and, his drawings reacted to his ideas, gave him insight, showed him what could and what couldn’t. He stepped from the exhibit with his note book.It was like he was in a trance, his senses were on fire and he felt as if he unbound energy. He looked around at the other kids, some engrossed in their actives and others running around to other places. He shook himself awake. How long had he been here? A small panic set it. His mom would be furious. Simon clutched his notebook. His curiosity was burning and a desire for exploration was building, but he had to leave. He moved towards the door dodging other kids, as he pressed his hand to the door hand he heard a voice behind him.

“We will see you next time, don’t worry about bringing the note book back, you can always grab another one” Newton smiled down at him

Simon felt a sadness overcome him as he looked back at the area. “What if I can’t get back here? How do I find my way here?”

“You will see the entrance where ever you are, but” Newton glided over to him and pressed a finger to his forehead “This place is always with you,here”

“What if I lose my head?” Simon asked in all seriousness.

Newton chuckled “Let’s hope not, what an odd inquiry, if you lose your head it will be here” and moved his finger down to Simons heart”

“And if I die?”

Newtons eyes brows shot up “Hopefully that isn’t for a long time Simon, but, let’s just say, when you die, you will find out. You will be revealed to a whole new reality. Exciting, really, but don’t rush to it. Life is very much worth living and experiencing. Till next time, Simon”

“Till next time Newton” Simon smiled and pushed through the door.

The mall’s noise filled his ears and he could see his mom standing there talking with her friends. He approached her and she glared down at him and looked around.

“Where were you? I was about to panic, I look away for a second and you’re gone and the next your back” she grabbed his empty hand. Simon looked back to the hallway. It no longer held the neon red apple above it. He clutched the notebook in his hands.

“Sorry, momma” she gave him a stern look, but smiled.

“Come on, let’s get something to eat. What’s that ?” She looked down at the notebook.

Simon smiled “Some homework”

His mom’s face lit up “Really?”

Simon nodded heavily

“Okay, Mr.Graduate, come on”

When I was student of the academic sorts, I never really enjoyed it. Nothing ever clicked for me and I struggled in a lot of subjects. One time I remember we as a class went to a science museum and my mind really lit up. Everything seemed interesting to me, the experiments, the lights and sounds, even the guy that was running the place seemed like he was a master scientist (Newton is based on him. I also asked him how much the whole place costed. As I wanted to build place like that. I was an ambitious kid). We all learn in different ways, explore and grow.

Where do kids disappear for when the second you look away? I would hope it would be something like this. Let their imagination build them up into what they wish, their dreams endless and boundless. Help them with the right tools and methods.

To the future! Cheers ~

“Did you turn off the radio?” Tyler turned to his wife and asked.

Amanda flipped through a magazine “I think I did. Why? What would happen if I forgot to turn the radio off?”

Tyler slid out of bed and moved towards the door. “How long did we have it on today?” he stopped at the door “couldn’t of been more then four hours? Right?”

His wife stared at him thinking

“Right?!” He asked frantically.

“Well we started listening when the dodgers came on, then that odd broadcast about the horse races, that was six hours ago.”

Tyler cursed sharply and swung the door open and cast him self down staircase to the kitchen where the radio was. She could hear him descend the steps and creak in to the kitchen. Then there was silence. The house held no movement in it anymore.

Suddenly the walls shook violently, she could feel the furniture shift at each massive smash of something against the frame.

“Tyler” she yelled out the open door. The slamming continued and then it was silent once again. Amanda got out of bed and moved slowly to the top of the stairs. She called down once again.

“Tyler? What’s going on down there? Are you okay?” Her heart started to pick up speed as the house seemed empty. She could see the kitchen light spilling towards the front door at the bottom of the stairs, but the rest of the house remained dark.

“I’m coming down” her voice shook as she descended the stairs. She gripped the railing with white knuckles and cranked her head around them to see into the kitchen. It seemed fine from her view, but as she approached the door she saw Tyler.

The opposite side of the kitchen where the sink and a window outlooking their yard was covered in bits of blood and bone. Tyler lay on the linoleum floor. His body was twisted in unimaginable pose. Bones protruding from his legs and arms, everything bruised and bludgeoned.

She stared in stunned horror. Her mind taking in the scene and processing if it was a nightmare. A high pitched hiss and crackle came from the radio that sat on the kitchen table. She jerked her attention towards it with a scream.

Fashioned out of old wood and brass the radio sat smiling at her. The two dials, an on and off switch for the left eye and a frequency dial for the right eye. The AM/FM window curved into a smile and old textured clothe covered the speaker grills which formed eye brows that seemed always in a sinister point. The mouth lit up with a fuzzy yellow and the red power indicator light sat right above the mouth. Like a nose. The finder rolled through the different frequencies till it came to a certain station.

In an old time radio voice it spoke “Amanda, welcome down to the kitchen. Hope all is well.”

Amanda turned to run, but something grasped her wrist, her feet squealed against her floor as it pulled her back into the kitchen. She covered her eyes and sobbed. “What is happening?”

The radio flickered “Your husband didn’t tell you the rules, did he?”

Amanda shook her head

“Then, I shall explain them once again! Only once, listen carefully.

1. The radio can only be on for a maximum four hours at a time.
2. The radio can only give three days predictions at a time.
3. The radio only needs one soul per year.
4. The radio can only be turned on twice a day.

Any breakage of these rule, well you can tell what happens.”

Static returned to the airwaves. Amanda slid across the bloody floor and grabbed the meat hammer from the top drawer. She stepped forward and drove it down at the radio with all her strength. Inches away the hammer felt as it if was stuck in honey.

The voice returned “Also forgot two rules. The radio cannot be harmed and two the radio must be used every twenty four hours. By the newest owner. Congratulations Amanda,you have inherited me from your now deceased husband.”

There was a wave of pressure that hit Amanda and she slipped backwards slamming into the counter top.

“Looking forward to working with you, and please, take good care of me” The radio’s smile seems to grow as it spoke and then the power dial turned switching the yellow tint off and red nose to dark. Leaving Amanda alone.

I had recently built a vintage radio out of legos. Very cool set. It has a Sound Brick inside that you can turn on on and off and ‘browse’ channels on the other dial. Before getting bed, a question was asked, out of the blue “What happens if I don’t turn the radio off?”

I thought for a moment. It would run out of batteries. But what if something else would happen? What if that question held terrible weight to it.

Make sure you turn the radio off before leaving.

The sun is shining and the clouds accumulate in the sky forming rolling white ships which cast their shadows over the backyard. My hands rest on a knife which is cutting garlic for the dish I am making.

A Mediterranean pasta with roasted garlic chicken.

I stared out among the manicured yard, bushes cut perfectly and flowers spring from every ounce of space that needed color. Then you come out. Wearing a bright yellow sundress. You bounce happily down the steps into your French patio furniture. To where he sits.

I avert my eyes for a moment. Memories, feelings, emotions, hidden, and smashed to the bottom of my heart come scrapping back. Tugging, pinching, clawing. My gaze swings back. You both look a bit serious. He sips his coffee and you break into a smile and your laughter flows through the air and into my kitchen.

So close.

He pulls you close, kisses you.

Those lips I had felt. Those hands I held. That skin that grazed mine. My eyes close. How did you end up next to me. Tormenting me. Millions of square miles. Millions of houses. You end up in my backyard.

I hear the front door open.

My wife stumbles in all glee and laughs. She glides over to me and hugs me from behind. Back from a business trip.

I can smell him. She has been drenched for to long in his scent to notice. But I do. I always do.

She doesn’t say much, she just runs up stairs to take a shower.

My mind is full of fantasies and events that I play out in a Technicolor dream. Then your laughter comes again and my soul sinks further and further. A pit that seems to only grows. I bring the knife up to look at my reflection. Half of a miserable person gloom back at me. How can I feel? This situation I am once again in.

I love you,

It’s ruining my life.

I grip the knife.

This is based on the song by Taylor Swift ft Post Malone Fortnight

The vibe of the song is fun with that constant 1980’s synth in the background. The Music Video is pretty sweet as well.

Connections and love are hard things. When it doesn’t work out or that one night of passion is over, it is not like you can forget it. The mind might forget or attempted to bludgeon the memory out of it, but the heart will always remember. I think that is what makes so tough. No matter how much you run, the heart will carry the memories and feelings.

I am sure this song has been analyzed to death,but I love the cycle that it presents. The love, the lost, the trying to move on (being unsuccessful) The lingering feelings and the thought of a crime of passion. Pain and suffering, love and lust, ying and yang. As we live the context gives us the highs and lows. One without the other, does not remain.

Hope all those broken hearts and crying souls remedy with time. Here is some tea and biscuits to help mend!

Till next time ~

Their hands grasped and pulled at my clothes. Their arms spindling to catch me at every turn. They formed paths corralling me into some unknown direction for some unknown cause. I punched and kicked. They seemed to take no damage, feel no pain.

They stared.

Young and old. Tall and short. Looked at me with unfeeling eyes. Their bodies blocking me, closing in and their fingers crawling to stop my movements and haul me towards my fate. Hopelessness started to creep up as neither my screams or attacks seemed to deter their drone behavior. My foot slipped as a young man grabbed me and I slammed into a door. Heavy it swung open and and cool winter night air rushed into the building. The boy hung on to my shirt his face unchanging, but he would not budge out the door. Arms and hands slowly started to slither from around him to retrieve me. I pulled at his grasp then grabbed on to his jacket. I pulled as hard as I could to drag him into the snowy night, but he did not budge.

“Not liking the night air, huh?” I spat as my hands slipped from his jacket and I fell back into the snow. The door closed.

The moon hung high in the sky and illuminated a white canvas of hills and snow covered houses. Snow was falling heavily even though clouds did not seem to cover the whole sky. I looked towards the building I had tumbled out of it. It looked like an elementary school. A blocky one story building that sprawled to my left and right. Every thirty feet there were floor to ceiling windows which cast yellow light into the night which held the shadows of the rows of people inside. I heard something moving, clicking in the dampened winter night. I rose to my feet and started to run. What ever it was I didn’t want to find out.

The snow picked up and I moved through suburban Midwest neighborhoods. Most lights were off, but as I rounded a house I saw a couple working in their garage which was open. The old man was sitting on work stool tinkering with something small on his workbench while his wife tended to some plants on the other side of the garage. I approached slowly.

“Good evening” I gave a wave as I entered the light being cast from the garage.

They both took a glance at me and the women moved to the end of the garage concrete.

“I know this must seem very weird, can I use your phone or Internet to see where I might be, I am a bit lost.” My request was jumbled, I was waiting for a rejection when the old lady smiled and waved me over.

“Cold night we got here, come in, you can use my phone.” She pulled out something that looked like a retro bronze blackberry. I moved cautiously towards her and took it in my hands. It was heavy, but it reacted fast to my commands I entered. I pulled up what looked like the maps app and stared down at the location.

I was close to home. How I ended up here,who those people where and what was going on was mystery, but home was west. I gave a smile to the old women and handed back her phone.

“Of course dearly, one movement” she moved into the house and returned with a long black jacket. Usually I would wave off the polite gesture, but it was snowing and I knew that i needed it.

“Thank you” I pulled it on and it fit perfectly.

The night grew colder as the wind and snow picked up. The street lamps now held a halo of snow and power lines slumped under the new found weight. I moved again past dark sleepy houses and into a road that serpentined into the woods. Houses lined the left side and tall pines to my right. I sat to rest for a moment and heard it again. The clinking mechanical sound. I peered out into the snowy haze. Blue lights, barely able to be seen through the snow, crept closer. Each mechanical click, the lights materialized more clearly. I stood up immediately. Fear struck me, what ever it was it followed me all this way. And if it followed, it wanted to take me back. The lights illuminated something in the haze. It looked like a wolf. It stood on four legs, which moved in a clockwork fashion. Two legs clicking forward while the other two clicked back. Everything to its head to its tail moved with precision. The fact that I could hear the movement was even scarier. It was so loud even with the storm and snow creating a chamber of muted silence. I moved away from it, at first in a walk then to a full out spring up the winding road. The lights disappeared and the clicking faded.

I followed the moon towards the only place I knew. I was far. too far away. I entered another neighborhood. This was a higher place where the houses had their spread of the land. Street lights lined each side staggered from each other. I zipped up the coat and moved down the streets. The snow never stopped. The cold seemed to be getting colder.

Then there it came. Piercing the silence veil once again. The clicking returned. I spun towards the entrance of the neighborhood. Blue lights entered where I had just been. Every time i rest it pursued. It needed to no rest. I outpaced it.

I started to run and heard it click in pursuit.

The pace then changed. The clicking got closer together. My body filled with adrenaline and I poured my spirit into my legs.

The clicks sped up. They grew louder.

My heart sank, my energy drained as my spirit cried to a higher power. The helplessness that I had felt in the school building came back in full force. Panic and fear mixed and welled inside.

It was out-pacing me, no matter how fast I ran, how far I went, it would now catch me.

I turned to see the blue lights illuminating my surroundings. My foot caught a stone porch and I fell backwards staring into the blue lights.

The thing looked as if a wolf had been taken in by a mad technologist, stripped of all its organic flesh, bones replaced with pistons, claws and teeth pulled and in there place syringes leaking drugging death. Two eyes black, unfeeling, cold reflected the blue lights that lived insides its rip cage of matte white steel. A wolf reborn as a cybernetic nightmare. I screamed and tried to take a swipe at it, but as soon it came within biting range, the needles sunk into my leg. They penetrated the skin with a sharp pain and then I could feel what ever it salivate inject into my veins. It slipped through my bloodstream and every part of me felt warm and my vision started to swim.

I can’t go back. This nightmare. What is it? What is happening? Don’t take me. My conscious faded.

This came from a dream I had recently. I changed a few things here and there. Dreams can be very jumbled and confusing. The over arching feeling was the helplessness and hopelessness. No matter what I did it seems that I was being out matched, pulled into something that I could no escape. There were times of hope, but then valleys of crushing realizations.

The wolf had a name in my dream (abdos? Albatross? or something like that) I cant remember, but the name was very strange. I awoke when it bit my hand. I changed it into the leg as I feel that made a bit more sense.

Be wary of your dreams. Who knows what they could mean.

Feeling detached from reality?
Moods swinging up and down?
Questioning what might be real and what might be imagination?
Does your soul feel pain that you just can’t get rid of?

It might be time to try something different. Normal therapy can only go so far as the mind. Physical exercise can only go so far as the body. And prayer can get to the surface of the soul.

What you need is an appointment at the Animah Institute. We specialize in a special type of transformation that will give lasting, permanent changes to not only your body and mind, but also your soul on an ethereal geometric plane.

A place you wondered, left , ran from.

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Call to book your appointment today. Remember, you are more than you realize. Let us help you reach your completed state.

I can’t get out. I can’t escape. Where am I?

——–NO CONTENT AVAILABLE——

Five of them sat huddled in blankets and tunics in the dark night. The moons rose high into the sky casting their multitude of light through the trees. A fire flared between them, its light whipping the trees and their faces. A man with a large bushy beard flung his hands into the air.

“He moved among the brush, their eyes as wide as cilean bread. “Step by step, he held his breath. As if any sound would alert the beast.”

A little boy and girl clutched their tunics closer to their face. They both held strong, but the tempt to cover their eyes and ears remained close. A women elegantly dressed in silk rested her head on her arms with eyes closed and listened as the story continued. Next to her was a brawny fellow. Dressed in leather and flowy fell fibers he listened with a grin and laughed as the kids shifted nervously and screamed through out the story.

“And just then” The storyteller stopped and looked at each of them “The Shelog burst through the wooden door. Teeth a plenty, snarling and three sets of arms swinging wildly at our hero” The children scream and covered their faces and the man laughed, but ushered them to uncover

“Unshield your selves, listen” he said.

“Our hero unsheathed his magic sword. It glowed with the everlasting blue light of the sea of klay where it came from. He fought the Shelog. One day, two days, three days, they fought for a week straight. The hero did not tire, did not waver. Through slashes and blood spilled they remained steadfast and on the thirteenth day. The Shelog fell to the hero’s blade”

The boy emerged from his blanket and tunic and gave a cheer while striking a heroic pose.
“I knew he would win” he said swinging an imaginary sword.

“Yeah, right, you hid too, I saw you” the girl peaked out from her tunic.

“Settle down” The women opened her eyes “Now you have had your story, time for bed. We have a long journey tomorrow”

They groaned, but obeyed. Each one bundled up once again in their tunics and blankets. They lay resting their heads on a bundle of thickets that they had collected. In no time both children were off to dreamland.

“Thank you Master Ulrich, your stories are always entertaining” the women said laying out her own bed. Her movements were graceful, like she was made out silken water.

Master Ulrich gave a smirk and lit his pipe. “Well, thank you mademe. Just doing my many talents I have been given. It also helps that we have such inspiration with us” he nodded at the man. “One that lives through such” he cleared his throat “events”

The man held a small smile with hazy eyes. His hair was a mix of blond and black that fell to his shoulders. “I am not sure what you are talking about Master Ulrich. Just a simple traveling bodyguard”

The women laid down and her eyes stared at him. “That’s what you say”

“That’s what I am” he gave a quick glance to her and then to Master Ulrich. “What makes you think other wise?”

Master Ulrich blew smoke from his mouth over flames “While it wasn’t thirteen days, it was two. While it wasn’t alone in a cabin in the woods, it was on the coast of Merril. Near the Shelog lair on the northeast coast. The hero was not alone when slaying the beast” He took full inhale of his pipe and let it leak out of his mouth as he talked “And our hero was seriously injured.” Master Ulrichs eyes shifted only slightly, but the man knew he was looking down at his left hand “Thankfully magic was able to restore, but not perfectly”

“Hero of Sildor, Master of Shadow and Murder of the High king of Melroe” The women’s eyes slowly opened “The ender of the world. It looks like I hired an interesting bodyguard”

“What of it?” The man said.

Master Ulrich rustled through his large sack and pulled out an object. He then tossed it across the fire at the man.

“I had to make sure” Master Ulrich stared.

The man reached towards the object and picked it up with shaky hands. It was a hilt of a sword. Ornate in nature holding blue and red gems around the guard. The bottom of the hilt looked like serpent. He clutched it and closed his eyes.

“I thought I would return it to you, even if it is not in one piece. The Shelog did more damage to you then we all thought.”

The fire crackled and the woods filled the silence with it’s concert of nature. The man after a long while opened his eyes and set the hilt to the side.

“That’s all in the past now. The sword is no more, the kingdoms have risen and the monsters have fallen back. There is no need for me. No need for more destruction. No need for more loss.” The man laid back into his makeshift bed “Thank you for returning an old treasure, Master Ulrich, but who you have found is not the man you saw back then.”

A puff of smoke lifted into the air and Master Ulrich tapped out his pipe.

“No man is the same as they were. Only now can it begin” Master Ulrich whispered. He cleaned off his pipe and returned it to his bag then joined everyone else and laid back into his bed. The fire flickered and burned bright, giving warmth and hope for the future.

I have started to re-listen to The Eye of the World by Robert Jordan. The scenes of travel and adventure make me remember my grand dreams of traveling around and seeing th world. While just like the book, adventure is a bit less fantastical then it is in the mind, it is still wonderful to experience. To take in a vast wonderland.

Tom and James sat across from a man wearing a pair of blue jeans and a white t-shirt. He was young, handsome, with the palest skin one could have. His eyes sparkled in the daytime of a sapphire and he walked with swagger that could be confused with arrogance or complete confidence that the universe was moving around them. The man drummed his hands and they all sat in silence.

A waitress came over and dropped two black coffees, to the man and James, while a cappuccino to Tom. As soon as she left Tom spoke up.

“You said you had something on the case we are working on, a tip? or information? Did you know Tyler?”

The man’s eyebrows rose “Who?”

Tom could see James give him a sidelined look.

“The man who had a murder basement in his house, it’s been all over the news.”

“What, no, second rate killer, guy was absolute amateur from what I heard. No, no, I heard you guys are in to that” the man put his hands up and waved them about while doing spooky sounds “you know”

James wiped his mustache and leaned forward “and what if we are? Are you into the whole” James mimicked shower scene from psycho then sat back and shook his head.

“I am.”

“What?” Tom said.

“Yes, I am a serial killer. One of the best.”

James groaned and pulled out a note pad and produced a pen.
“Alright, name?”

“Mick Gendal”

“How long have you been a serial killer?”

“A long time, James” Mick smirked.

“Tom arrest this guy, open and closed” James flipped his notebook closed took a swig of his coffee.

“First, I could be joking, second, where are the bodies, third, I just arrived this morning, no way for me to do in this Tyler fellow. Look, I called you two specifically because” Mick searched around the ceiling and windows for the words, both Tom and James followed his gaze trying to spot what he was looking for. Mick scowled and tapped rapidly on the table “I need your help”

“Pardon me?” Tom said

James face broke out into a grin “You opened up with that and now you asking for help?”

Tom elbowed James “Help with what?”

Mick regained composure after drumming his fingers together. “While I did not know Tyler, I did know others like him. Much better then Tyler. They have all met an early demise. I believe that all these cases are connected. You two, as clunky as you are, have a reputation of getting results. Even in the worse scenarios. We marvel at your” he searched again “stupidity? Towards the situations you get yourselves into and then, somehow out of them.”

“You damn right.” James wagged a finger at Mick.

“You said ‘we’, who exactly is that? and why would you be following us?” Tom said.

Mick smiled. His eyes gleamed and he leaned back into his chair crossing his legs and roping his left arm around the back.

“Look, no matter what you do in life, business, art, sport, whatever. One needs to stack the deck in in their favor. You need to make sure that when you go into the action, that you have the advantage, you can’t lose. You are the house in your life, and the house always wins. Eighty years, that is how long I have been a serial killer.” Mick held up his right palm. On it was red circle, strange symbols and sigals line the inner rim and in the middle was a repeating circle that spiraled into infinity. “When I hunt, I always win. When I am hunted, I always get away or, you know.”

“So the ‘we’ is some sort of Hogwarts for serial killers? Holy Hell” Tom rubbed his forehead with his index finger and thumb “Couldn’t get any worse”

“of course it could, it could of been Hogwarts for demons or something” James waved the waitress over.

Mick snapped his finger and pointed at James “Yes, that is what I need your help with”

“Hogwarts?”

“No, the demon”

Both James and Tom froze. While they both knew, since that day neither of them had spoken about it. Somehow they tried every other supernatural entity that they could think of to explain away the case of Tyler. None of them sufficed. The void, the black door in their minds banged and clamored on its hinges. The memories buried and contained, but now bursting and clawing back into consciousness.

“What do you know about demons” Tom spoke up.

The waitress was approaching and Mick leapt from his chair and leaned in, his face inches away from theres.

“You two are the only ones that anyone knows of that has come across a demon and lived to tell the tale. You are fucking rock stars. I need your help to survive this thing. I need to have victims, I need to have blood. I can’t do that if this thing is hunting us like it is. The risk is to high. Time is ticking” As the waitress arrived Mick was leaving “I will be in touch” waved them goodbye and left.

James looked up at the waitress “Banana muffin, side of Jam, please. Tom? Nothing, alright, that’s it, also the bill when you have a chance.”

Tom sat resting his head on a clutched fist and stared into his memory. What was left was not much.

“How did we survive it James?”

The waitress returned with the muffin. James spread jam over the top and took a large bite.

“Did we?”

–

Tom and James our unlikely duo of paranormal investigators are trying to figure out what might be going on when they receive a call asking to meet. They run into Mick Gendal some one who openly admitted to being a serial killer, and not just admitting, but flaunting. That is when the stacked deck line came to me. Mick embodies this statement to his core, yet there is a bigger house in his world that he is against and as he says ‘The house always wins’.

Our demon is still out there, watch out as you roam the streets.

You can read their beginning story here - What’s in her Eyes