- 2022 -

“You say that you cannot sleep?”

“No doc, I told you. I sleep just fine. It’s that when I sleep I dream of being asleep.” The girl in the large leather sofa closed her eyes tight “It’s endless. I sleep, then she sleeps and the me in her falls a asleep. Like an infinity mirror. Then it stops and I wake up. Exhausted”

She could hear the scribbles of notes being recored. Her therapist, who she called doc, half lidded eyed his page of notes.

“How can I be so exhausted when I am falling asleep so much “ she let out a small nervous laugh.

“How do you know which one of you is the one awake right now?” doc asked still studying his notes. It was more a thought then a question to her. Doc approached his sessions like a scientist. Actively trying to figure it out.

The clock on the wall ticked away, but they both sat pondering.

“Wait are you saying I might still be asleep?” she finally said sitting up on the sofa.

Doc shrugged and set down the note pad on the small table to his right “Maybe, could it be that the last ‘you’ woke up and the others before are still asleep? The original you is still asleep and then there are multiple of you between ‘you’ and you?” Doc pursed his lips “That means I’m not real either. I’m dream me” he nodded slowly to himself then swiped his note book back up and started to furiously write.

She let out a sigh and fell back onto the couch with a plop. What was the last thing she remembered doing? How did she get here? When did she wake up?

The last thought. No alarm, no sunrise, no mom calling up to her. She woke up exhausted though? Didn’t she?

“Doc…” she turned to him, but the seat was empty. A torrent of terror jerked her up and into the middle of the room. “Doc” she called again. She looked around the office. It looked as it always had, but something was missing. It felt off. She then walked to leave.

There was no door.

Replaced in it’s spot was a painting of her in bed. Awake. Wide eyed staring at her ceiling. Staring at her.

When their eyes met each other the office melted with slow syrup motion. The colors blotted together and forms seemed to mix with thick consistency. The only object in the room to not melt was the painting. Which still stared at her. She could not tear her vision from it.

Caught in a trance she walk towards it. Her feet slugged through the floor as got closer. She reached her hands out and they went into the painting as if it was a window. She felt the other room pull and grip her hand with ungodly force.

Her arms pulled deeper into the painting. Their colors and skin melding together like the room. Stretching, straining, melting towards her self. She screamed.

Her painting screamed still wide eyed.

The force was to strong. She melted through the frame into her other self. She fell straight into her own screaming face. Then again and again and again. As if each rendition of her sleeping figure was now waking up.

She jolted up from her bed with a scream. Her eyes pointed towards the white plaster ceiling.

For a moment she sat staring, trying to catch her breath. Then she pressed her face into her palms.

A knock came at her door.

“I’m okay, I just had a bad dream” she tried to reassure her parents.

A different voice came from behind the door.

“Did you find out if you were still asleep” Doc’s muffled voice came as an answer.

She got up from her bed and as her feet put pressure on the floor she fell.

and kept falling.

Dreams are an odd one. I am sure that I will be writing a lot more about dreams. I have very vivid dreams. I remember them and sometimes I feel as if they are more real then my actual life. I have places I come back to in my dreams. They all have such vivid sights and emotions.

I should interpret them, but I have yet to do that. Pay attention to your dreams though. They are very important.

It was five in the afternoon and he danced around the house from one typewriter to the next. The ideas would not stop. Each time his fingers touched the steel keys new ideas picked up where they left off and his imagination spun to keep up with his rhythmic typing. One idea, one scene, one character, one rising and another falling. Then switch. His leather shoes knocking at the hard wood floor to the next machine. The sound of metal pounding paper filled the air again. It was constant background noise from every angle of the house. Even if it broke and he stepped back to think for just a moment, the sound still lingered in the air. A smile came to his lips

“Yeah thats good” he gave a laugh while still working his magic upon the keys. The end of the page approached and he ripped the paper from the jaws of the beast, laid it on another stack of pages filled with ink and rolled another piece of paper into the machines clutches. As soon as it was realigned the letters started to appear on the page.

While he typed, in his head the whole thing played out.

“James, it’s over for you and your goody two shoe-d girl” the man in the shadows said.

James knew that he could not out gun the man. Why? Because he know knew who he was.

“I never thought it would be you that would double cross me” he put out his hand to shield Charlotte “Gilbert Demson”

Gilbert stepped forward and let the light hit him. He stood with a smug smile wearing the same white and black suit that he had on at the party. He didn’t even bother to get changed before trying to kill him.

“How are you going to get out of this one James” the man gave a wicked smile and typed the answer. Dear Charlotte. Ace shooter. Preparing a gun behind James back. James explains that he knew Gilbert’s secret of funneling money to the construction company taking over the neighborhoods. In a moment of surprise. Thats when she takes the shot. One chance. Dead bang. Right between the eyes.

He wraps up the story mid page. Tears it away and sets it on the stack. One done, many more to go. His foot steps are moving again to the next adventure. The readers, his imagination, they cannot be satisfied. The clinking of the keys start up again. His face lights up in a smile.

When I was in Japan I started listening to radio dramas on audible. One that I stumbled upon was The Shadow. Which was about Lamont Cranston “wealthy young man about town”. He had an alter ego. He learned a trick to make himself invisible and he would stop evil as the shadow.

I recently discovered that the writer of the shadow, Walter B. Gibson, was insanely productive. He would write all the time and I saw that he had typewriters in each of his rooms, each with a story that he was working on. Not sure if that is true, but his output regardless was incredible. Here is a small snippet that I found of him talking about his writing. Also he was a magician.

Brushed across the sky was swirling clouds of purple and orange. The sun peaked just above the fields and around houses. He walked up towards the small train station. It was made out of wood, single room with a small ticket booth, which was no longer in use. A small bench ran across one side of the room with a few ornate pads to be sat on. Behind it on the wall was a board filled with advertising, job postings, kids art and a map to a couple of local tourist spots. Through the building and over tracks was a ramp that led to a long concrete platform that ran along the metal roads and poles of wire that escorted the trains.

The station was empty besides him. He walked through and stepped onto the platform and waited. The air was hot, thick and humid, even with the sun now waving goodnight. He dabbed his head with a cloth and then returned it to his fine pressed suit. Lights started to turn on and the last of the sun turned to darkness. He stood waiting still. He was early. Then out in the distance a light appeared to be moving towards him.

He took a deep breath in.

The train grew larger, calling out with it’s horn and slowed before reaching the platform. The yellow lights of the cabins whirled past him then came to a halt.

He released his breath.

The doors opened. The train was also empty besides the conductor who waved from the front of the car with a big smile.

He hesitated. Waved off the torrents of nervousness.

“行きましょう” he whispered to him self and stepped into the humming train.

The doors closed and it pulled slowly away form the station. Carrying another towards their destiny.

行きましょう = “Let’s do this”

This was inspired by waiting for trains in Japan. When I traveled around Shikoku I waited for a lot of trains out in the country side. In Japanese movies/anime/manga there are scenes where they either show train station when the sun is setting or characters standing on the train platform. Before the trip the scenes did not mean much to me,they seemed to be showing that the characters were about to travel, but after experiencing it my self I can sense the feeling now that is being portrayed in those scenes. It is a sense of daily life. Train and train station would accompany one through their whole life making imprints of memories through out time. All feelings could be wrapped in those stations. One memorable train station was Motoyama station. It is just after temple 70 Motoyamji and down the street. Around is a bit rural,but when you get to the station you see all the fields that surround it. When I got there the sun was setting and the sky was a deep purple and red. Nothing was better then catching the train after an exhausting day.

Trains also carried majority of people in Japan, so each person I saw was going somewhere, doing something. I was fascinated with their stories. Trains carried dreams.

The lights dimmed and the crowd hushed. The auditorium was filled past maximum capacity. People were selling tickets that did not exist and shuttling families in through the windows to see this once in a lifetime show. Mr.Solstice. The grand magician from a far away land. His shows were legendary and he only did one show per city. You never knew where he was going to be next. He never announced, or told anything, just moved to the next town and as soon as he arrived exclaimed that he would be doing a show the next day. He seemly moved around the country in bursts that could not be followed. He would move at impossible speeds from state to state. Sometimes being on the east coast and a day later on the west coast. This helped boost his mystique. If he could move that fast, who knew when he might just disappear completely. There were only a handful of people who had seen him more then once. If you were there you saw him, if you weren’t, you missed him. Sometimes he would show up in big cities, other times in small towns with barely anyone living in them. Small farms would gather around him in a barn filled with hay and cows where he would stoke the imagination and grant a portal into another world for a night. He would perform for everyone and anyone, but only once. He made no special appearances and entertained no requests.

Tonight he was making him self visible in the medium town of Morgantown. It’s theater sat next to river running through the middle of town which was nestled in between green forested hills.
Mr.Solstice appeared in a blinding light onto the stage. The crowd gasped and cheered as he bowed. He was an older gentlemen. Graying black hair pushed back off his face but flowing. His outfit was a black and white. A long coat that reached just above his feet which were adorned in leather black boots that were bound with laces and buckles. His pants seemed tight and he was thin. He had the looks of a gentleman, but the smile of a thief.

He put out his hands and roared into the crowd. They roared back at him.

“Welcome to the end of what you thought was possible. The most magical night that you will ever experience, witness, and comprehend. Tonight I will show you what is possible, what the world has hidden from you in plain sight. Your eyes, your spirit will not be deceived any longer. All that flows through you tonight is real. As real as the flesh on your bones. Sit back and be dazzled. Leave here with something more then you came in with. Imagination that is no longer shackled.”

The whole theater erupted with anticipation. Mr.Solstice stepped towards the front of the stage and rose his arms out in front of him. In a quick jerky motion he flung them back. As he did flames ignited on his palms.

“Wouldn’t you like be able to cook like this” he joked as he moved fluidly across the stage tossing fire up in the air and catching it like they were solid objects. He then clapped his hands together as if he was a martial artists and the flames went out with a burst. The crowd recoiled at the sudden sound, but ushered for more. Mr. Solstice produced more magic. He made water flow from his long jacket. Balls of light appear in the middle of the stage that floated across the crowd whipping around in a symphony of colors and sounds. He floated gently off the ground and above the heads of the wide eyed. Every move that he did had a purpose. Producing another impossible trick, another burst in the imagination of those watching. The crowd could only be absorbed by the spectacle. Wondering, trying to wrap their consciousness around what was happening. Mr.Solstice breathed heavily. He was sweating, but his face was lit in a smile of pure joy. His eyes though wandered among the crowd and a small twitch of sadness revealed itself.

“Well then. I hope you have all enjoyed yourselves tonight. This is the end of the show. It seems that somethings of the past has caught up with me. To all of you “ he rose his hand above his head, as he did so did the crowd. “I bid you a fantastic and magical filled destiny. Let all that comes to you be magnificent. Till next time!” He then clapped his hands and the crowd did the same. The theater was filled with two deafening crisp claps and the lights went out. There was complete silence and then the lights returned. Mr.Solstice was gone.

I am reading Win the Crowd by Steve Cohen which is about being able to read and influence crowds and other people. He is a magician by trade so it got me thinking about the magicians of real life.Mr.Solstice is a bit more then that. His shows are always cut short by a pursuing danger. I like the era of old America as well. A time of wild imagination and information took time to travel around. There would be more time to think and less to drown out your own crazy thoughts about the world. Also a lot more nature between towns.

The kingdom of the three Sullivans was in the middle of a glade that vibrated with deep and blinding greens. Streams that flowed gently in all directions glistened in between the rays of sun light that shone through the large oak trees which spread across the land. It was a paradise that one could only imagine in a childrens dream. Travelers would cast them selves into the wilderness, past the mountains of Grees, through the swamps of the forgotten and the lakes of Hilden just to for the chance to witness the emerald green glade. How was it possible that such a place existed surrounded by so much chaos? One did not know and one did not question it’s existence. They only thanked all of creation for the sights, sounds and experience of it all.

In the middle of the kingdom was the city. Rising high in the clouds it spiraled with gold and white columns cascading the circular buildings higher and higher. One could see the towering structures from any location in the glades. When travelers would be fearing for their lives in the mountains of Grees, they could see the tower in the distance piecing the sky with its gold and white. Tears would fall from their frozen eyes at the sight, finally realizing what their pain was worth. When one approached the base of the city they were greeted with great oaks that gave ample shade and bodies of water which glistened and projected a calmness that flowed through the whole land. Water gently fell from the city walls which were adorned in all sorts of mystical creatures cast in ebony and stone. They scoured at enemies and welcomed guests.

Most days a gentle rain would flow through the kingdom. Dark clouds would wash the sky and contrast the glowing landscape. A sweet warm spring rain would then wash everything down, leaving the scent of honey and lavender in the air. The land was filled with animals that preyed on each other in the dark, but by day remained proper and docile. Their eyes would spy travelers beaten and wary and give them their blessing as they made their way.

Among the roads to the kingdoms some small towns sat on top of large grassy knolls, under tower forests and near gentle rivers and lakes. Each one harvesting the fruits from the land and sending it towards the capital and foreign lands. Most of them looked similar with their large wooden ornate structures. Dark brown wood carved from the massive oaks made up each of the buildings. The wood was then hammered and chiseled to make swirling edges to the roofs and to make up the rounded and triangular doors on some of the houses. Some towns were filled with one story buildings that scattered randomly round while other were filled with two story structures with balconies that gave view to the surroundings. What ever town you visited there was always honey ale. The lands specialty. It was sweet and thick, but with a hint of spice and a calming effect when going down the throat. Everyone drank it in the land and was sought after from many outside. Harvested from the abundance of honey from the large bee’s in the east of the land, the honey would then be mixed with lavender, spice and a mixture of water and milk. Then it would sit for a single day, mixed, heated and then mixed again. It would then be stored in large oak barrels coated in a thin layer of Humberg wax to make sure it did not stick and shipped off to the towns and kingdoms.

The kingdom of the three Sullivans was in the middle of a glade. A glade that was surrounded by darkness. A glade spreading it’s beacon of hope. The kingdom of the three Sullivans was destined to fall.

But also to rise again.

I like making landscapes and weird mystical places. I often dream of glades and spring like landscapes to calm my self down. This is mostly from my fondness of the forest zone from Phantasy Star Online. A place that the sun is always shining. A nice gentle breeze flows through just at the right time and a stream, buzzing bees, and small animals fill the air with their music. Large white clouds would always be passing by to give shelter from the sun while the large trees always gave respite.

His face hit the ground as he tumbled and fell down the hill. His arms and legs scrapped against the under brush and he slammed into a bush at the bottom. His body pumped him full of more adrenaline as he bolted up and sprinted. To where he did not know, but the thrashing and howling from behind him was catching up. Light beyond the tree line lit up his eyes and he entered an empty field where a factory amassed in front of him. He entered through one of large doors and started his way through the maze of rusted machinery and dull yellow lights. The hum of a factory running on its last leg filled his ears and drummed through him. He heard a screech come from where he had entered. He did not ever know what he was running from. When his eyes set upon IT, his body instantly flung into action, sprinting full speed in the opposite direction before his brain could even render the image in his mind. It was as if what ever IT was, the fear of it, the panic that over took him was buried thousands of years in his genes. To the deepest root of his core he knew that what ever IT was would annihilate him at any chance. This fear speared its way through him from some ancient past. How many had been massacred by IT to have the mere sight of it induce a genetic fear to be passed down for all of time.

The thing breathed heavily against the metal. It’s legs pounded and swept across the concrete floor with incredible speed which seems to be getting faster and faster with each turn and door he slammed through. He was lost, but he could not stop. His body would not let him. It propelled him past the bulk works of the factory. Under and over machines, anything to keep him moving, anything to create distance.

But the distance was closing.

He rounded a corner and started screaming for help. Wailing, crying into the metal structure. He was running out of breathe. his body was no longer able to keep up, he needed someone, anyone. He screamed and shouted till his throat went raw. All while flailing down hallways of rusted brown. He came to a pair of doors.

His body slammed against them, but the doors propelled him back. He bolted back up and started to slam at them. They would not budge.

“Please, please, please” he whispered while tears and sweat rolled down his face.

The breathing was now upon him. He turned. Eyes wide, mouth screaming, body tense. His mind could not capture what IT was. But his genes were right. The eyes that had seen and survived somehow from eons past told him what was about to happen.

It was over.

Inspired by fear. Not normal fear, but the terrified fear that you get when you know that it’s over. Like swimming and see a shark approaching you. Or a lion in the jungle running at you with it’s teeth ready to devour you. A fear that goes beyond the mind.

This story is a bit vague, which it is supposed to be. The terror is what I tried to capture. This concept shows up a bit in my writing. A lot of the creatures are other worldly and if you saw them I think the terror would be great.

Sundays were pool days. My wife and I would head over to the community pool to hang out with friends and have a few drinks basking near the cooler parrots of the world. Today was no different. I grabbed our beach stuff and headed out for another day of relaxing pool vibes. The sun was shining and cool breeze was wisping over the water as I stared at my wobbly reflection.

“let’s dive in” I said hopping over the cool blue water.

My head starting pounding as I cast my self into the water. The itch became scratch then clawed at my brain.

Memories flashed through my mind. A past movie that I had seen to have forgotten. Or made to forget. I was back at the side of the pool with my childhood friend Sam who was shaking furiously. He looked at me his eyes stretching his whole face into a maniac shape.

“Endless, it was endless” he mumbled.

“What was? What happened?” His parents were scrambling over to us.

“The water, the monster. Yellow eyes, bigger then our houses. Teeth…” Sam shrieked again and his parents arrived and pushed me away to scoop him up. “Don’t go in all the way” He screamed as they pushed him past the fence to the their car “Don’t go in all the way”

That was the last time I had seen Sam in my life. After that his family moved out of town. I had seen when Sam dove into the pool that day. A cannonball. His legs tucked underneath him and barreling into the the water. A splash hit me in the face and when I cleared my vision Sam was not visible below the chlorine water. I swam over to where he had impacted and dove down. He was gone. I came back up for air and whipped around looking across the pool for any signs. Suddenly he burst from the reflection of the sun screaming wildly on the other side of the pool where he had entered.

For weeks I wondered where he had gone and what he meant. I had not been back to the pool since then. One night I thought about what Sam was screaming in the last moments that I saw him. My mom had drawn me a bath and I sat soaking in the warm water.

“Don’t go all the way in” rang in my head as I looked down at my legs through the fun house mirror.

Then I dropped. First it was my neck then up to my mouth. I took in a large breath through my nose and slid all the way in.

Pressure came from all sides. My head spun and I flung my arms and legs in all directions looking for a way out. I burst out of the water sucking in all the oxygen that I could.

I panted and stared up. Purple, and violet dust clouds covered the celestial. Planets of burnt orange and cinnamon cascaded and filled the void above. I looked towards the horizon. Water. I waded around. Water in all directions. Then I heard Sam’s cries in my head. Endless. Yellow eyes. I paddled a bit in one direction. I could see nothing but the endless ocean reflecting the grand sights from above. Then I heard something. Faint, but enough to catch my attention. I swam around and saw something in the distance. It was like a black pole sticking out of the water. I was so far away, but I could see it cutting a black line in the celestial painting. Then it looked as if it dipped into the water.

That’s because it did. I couldn’t see the shape any longer, but I could see the waves being projected by it’s whipping back and forth on the top of the water. The ocean rose and fell slightly at first, but then became a rough roller coaster. The waves were getting bigger and wilder. They started to pick me up and carry me with them. The thing got closer and closer and as it did my mind started to rip and tear. The sheer size was reaching my peak comprehension and it was still far way. I started to panic and swim in the opposite direction as the waves started picking me up and crash. I sucked in water and coughed and screamed for help as I stroked as fast as I could. The waves grew bigger and I rode into the sky. A roar filled my ears and whole body. The wave crashed and I was cast underwater. My vision spun and tried to catch what was under. I turned towards it. Yellow eyes like two darkened suns glowing in the deep dark water engulfed me. The Light from space cast into the ocean and the beast was a serpent. It’s body seemed to go into infinity. It’s dragon like mouth opened where rows and rows of sharp teeth the size of mountains cascaded into a landscape of carnage and death. I screamed evacuating all the air from my lungs into the sweet water. It roared, a deep howling roar that comprised of symphonies of tragedy and misery. I flailed about and my hand smacked against the side of my bath tub shattering it and I scrambled out of the tub on to the tiled floor screaming, howling, crying, clawing for escape.

A few days later there was a knock on the door. A few men entered the house and fired off questions to my parents and then gagged me and strolled me out somewhere. Somewhere to make me forget.

But now. I remembered. As my body dove under the water. The pressure came back and as I breached the crest, the celestial painting appeared before my eyes and the endless horizon of ocean surrounded me.

I could not see it, but I could feel the torrent from below. The monster was coming.

Inspired by SCP-1128 I changed a few things from the original concept. I have always been fascinated with endless water planets. I guess this comes from playing Ecco the Dolphin as a kid and being fascinated by the oceans. What struck me about SCP-1128 is that it acts like a virus. Once you know, you are always at risk of being transported into it’s clutches. I think that is very terrifying. You cannot escape, even if you do, it’s only temporary.

The room was lit by a single large flat screen TV. Police cars, ambulances, and news casters filled the scene. A man jumped over the couch, brushed his hair back and pushed his gold horned rimmed glasses up his nose.

“Police are saying this is the worst killings they have seen in years. Fourteen men and women have been found in pieces around the city. No suspects have been listed yet”

The screen flipped to the outside of an apartment building and then followed the captain of police to the outside of an apartment door.

“These have been the worst serial killings we have seen in a long time, who has done this will pay the ultimate price. I won’t stop till they are caught”

The man clicked the mute button and stood up into the projected light.

“Worst? Why is it always the worst?” He turned to his left. A set of eyes cried out to him. He walked over to the wall and flicked the lights on. “Do you see that? or I guess, hear that, worst”

The man snatched a large knife from the table. Bound to a chair was a young women, her eyes were large circles that were stained by tears. She struggled against her bonds and screamed through the gag at him.

“Stop that, what do you mean? You don’t know what your talking about. Fourteen” The man with the knife was young, thin, square jaw line and semi brown hair. He looked like an old school librarian. Dressed in black slacks, a tweed vest and a white button up shirt that was rolled up before his elbows. “I’m the best, not the worst”

He shook his head and pulled a chair in front of the bound women. She extended trying to threaten, but he waved her off with his knife.

“Look, I’m going to tell you a secret, yeah? Okay okay, here it goes. Those other things out there, the second rate serial killers, murders, what ever you call them. They cut their prizes up while they are alive.” The man shook his head and rolled his eyes “Like how are you going to get clean cuts if they are moving all around or blood is flowing so hard? You aren’t. Yeah yeah use drugs and all that, blah blah, doesn’t work, tried it. Does it look like I have time to surgeon people? To many people to get to. What a pain. Also I am going to tell you something else. That police captain. I have had coffee twice with him. Twice! and I told him TWICE that I was the serial killer. I told him, you have to start calling me the best, not the worst. This schmuck didn’t believe me. I tell everyone what I do, no one cares, what a sick game this is huh?”

The man return the chair to the table and walked back over to the women. Her energy was running out. The screaming, struggling and rationalizing were taking a toll on her. Her eyes fluttered to stay awake. Then she felt her arms being unshackled and the gag removed from her mouth.

“All right, all done.” the man said.

The women stood up weakly and stared at the man.

“Your letting me go?” she said hoarsely

The man reached for her and spun her around to see the chair she was bound to. There she was. Sitting, blood running from her neck and down her chest and pooling at feet of the chair.

“Sorry, your dead, But good news or I mean, bad news? Maybe both, you take it the way you want, you have been dead for a couple days” he said returning to the couch and flipping the channels until it hit another news station.

The women stood staring. Distant. A void. If that was her, who was she now. She turned and looked at the man sitting on the couch. He was now eating a stick of jerky. In a lul she moved to the couch and sat next to him.

“Do you care to explain?”

The man ripped off another head of jerky and pushed his glass up “Look, I’m good at something. Being a serial killer. The best, already am. I have even serial killed serial killers” He grinned and gave a thumbs up to her “Now you may ask what is all this ghost stuff that you are experiencing and this jazz. I serial kill people that have been missed by the grim reaper. Here” He pulled out a cylinder object. It was smooth metallic black. It pulsed with a cold energy. “Look at this” with a quick flick of his wrist a ghostly parchment draped from the cylinder. Fog emitted around the paper. “This list, which is updated all the time, is of those that death has missed. That car accident that you survived a couple of days ago, nah, you didn’t”

The women looked closer at the scroll. The names were jet black against a faded white parchment. They seemed to faze in and out and some would even disappeared before he eyes.

“Pretty cool eh? Well I had a dilemma on my hands. See I’m a natural born killer. Yet! I had an inner conflict. I like people and humanity, but damn, that feeling of” He made a stabbing motion with the beef jerky stick “and the life just seeping out, nothing like it. So one day, I just asked the sky. What should I do and Bam!” he leapt off the couch and stomped around “a bear came running straight out of the woods were I was, It’s teeth, claws ready and sliced me down.” he gave a laugh “Just ate me right there. When I awoke there it was, death with a contract and oh check this out” The man extended his hand towards the knife which was sitting on the table behind them, it wobbled then flew from the table into his palm. “My scythe”

The women made no motion, her face was stoic and internally she felt nothing,but exhaustion. No confusion over the whole situation, no anger over what she had gone through, just pure exhaustion.

“So what now? Heaven?”

“We wait. Death will show up and take you somewhere” He flopped back down next to her “So in the mean time” the TV unmuted “Jerky?” he held out a fresh stick to her.

The women sighed.

She grabbed the jerky.

This story was inspired by a irrational situation of a serial killer seeing that they were being called the worst, when if you took the stats, they were the best. Such as having the most kills or never getting caught. Also the thought of being good at something that is unmoral. As if what would happen if you asked the person who was going to kill you why they were doing it? and they said, “Well I am good at this”
I also remember seeing a Japanese movie where the serial killer would produce art from his victims, because it was his inspiration and what he was good at. This is sorta like that. I took a fun angle with it though, because While being morbid, being to morbid is sorta a drag.

“It’s snowing again”

Two men looked out the windows to see large flecks start to descend on them.

One of the men in a leather jacket stood up “Well, that means it’s time to get out of here, who knew it could even snow at this time of year”

The other man leaned back in his seat and took another peak out the window. The large flecks were now flurrying with the wind and the surroundings were starting to disappear behind a white sheet of tundra. The coldness extended through the glass and made his bones shiver.

“Careful out there Pete” the man took a sip of his coffee. Pete shrugged his leather shoulders and stepped out into flurry of coldness. The door slammed shut and the they looked at his back as it faded.

“Do you think he will be okay?” Sarah said taking Pete’s seat in front of the man.

The man gave a frown “Nope, he’s dead” he said and downed the last of his coffee. He held it out and Sarah poured him another cup. The restaurant was small. Log cabin themed, it sat in forest near a small midwestern town in the north. It got most of the locals to come down and enjoy the small menu and endless coffee. A few travelers from here or there would show up during the summer, but it sat in the forest as a shelter for those looking for something to eat and drink. A shelter from the wilderness, the rampaging nature that could claw it’s way to you. Tear at you. Leave you for dead.

The man that sat drinking coffee that had just proclaimed his friends death was Vandal Hearth. He always wore jet black clothes. Whether that was shorts and shirt, sweater and pants, coat and scarf. All of it was jet back. From his boots to his occasional hat. He would stroll by and you would think he was a shadow being misplaced.

“That’s a terrible thing to say” Sarah said pouring herself a cup of coffee. There would be no more customers today.

The wind started to howl and what trees you could see were starting to whip around.

“I told him that he would die if he came out here today. I can feel it, I could feel the snow, I could feel” Vandal stopped and swallowed “I could feel IT. Out there, IT watches”

Sarah let out a breath “Vandal you know I don’t like you start talking like that. This monster that you have been hunting, this IT, what ever it is. You have been out in the woods for far to long. There is nothing out there”

“Sarah I respect you, but you don’t know what you are talking about. I didn’t choose to be out in these god forsaken woods, but this is the closest I have been to IT”

Vandal had been in town for three years. He bought a cabin on the edge of town. His shadow would roam around the forest at night and in town during the day. He never seemed to sleep. No matter what part of the day, he would be looking, searching, wandering, hunting. Eyes like yellow pacing the landscape and corners of the dark woods. He would show up at Sarah’s restaurant every other day and drink copious amounts of coffee and eat a single piece of toast. Eyes always fixed to the large windows. He was older. Long gray hair that he pulled into a pony tail with a few strands that poked out over his forehead. A long nose with deep set eyes. He was always calm, collected and cool. Nothing ever seemed to bother Vandal.

The wind whistled and and the noise died down. Vandal tapped his fingers against the table then produced something wrapped in a black cloth and set it on the table.

“What’s that?” Sarah asked. Vandal never seemed have anything on him other then a small wallet.

Vandal brushed the object then unwrapped it. Revealing it’s self like an unholy object from eons ago a blade that seemed to absorb light dimmed the table. The blade was large and covered with smaller curved blades that sprung out in all directions. The handle had a small guard around it and another point from the hilt. As it sat, it hummed an unholy tune inside her skull. As if all the music in the world were tuned to insanity and dialed in to the frequency of chaos.

“Wha-“ Sarah went to speak, but Vandal shot up form the seat taking the blade in his hand. As it moved through the air it caused a black mist to form. “Vandal, stop”

He stopped at the door. The storm began to rage again, this time in anticipation of the battle to come.

“You have been a lovely host Sarah, see you around” Vandal pushed open the door against the wind. It slammed shut and Sarah peered out the window. Vandal stopped in front of the winter torrent. The unholy blade seemingly absorbing any light the remained.

Vandal Hearth stepped into and through the winter wall.

• Inspired by the snow that is falling today. It has been rather nice and we are in spring, but the snow came from no where. In an hour the outside looked more of winter then it did of spring. The knife is inspired by the knife in Over the Black Rainbow, The Devils Teardrop. An item out of place in our world.

The court was packed with all the fools and nobles from the kingdom. They stood around the throne and the main entrance way speaking of gossip and stories that had travel among their tongues in the past month. Set upon his knees in front of the king and his court was a writer. His face was just beginning to show the creases of life and war, clothes cleaned and pressed, from the ancrease spell that he had learned from his youth. His hair draped over his face which a large mustache spread out from under his nose. His eyes were deep in their sockets and shone a deep auburn. He was a rarity. Born into the noble houses, but rejected them to write the truths and what he experienced during his life. His works were known far and wide, but he found himself keeling in front of the king, feet shackled, hands bound at the wrist with rope and guards surrounding him with spears.

“Scribe, Winterdel Pon Style, you have been spreading falsehood of my name and kingdoms for far to long, you have shamed my name in the written ink and made others question my rule.” The king said, his voice ringing and silencing the crowds.

Winterdel stiffened and rose his head causeing his face to be shown for the first time to the king.

“King, I have never written a word about you that was not true. My quill only captures what I have seen or what I have experienced. True, I have written shameful passages about you, but that was long ago. Yet, here I am, I am beginning to believe that I have deceived my self in my judgment of you”

“Silence!” The king shouted rising to his feet “How dare you insult my ears in front of my eyes, you have done enough behind my back. Sheldren, is it not true that these words have spread across the kingdom like some kind of locust.”

Form behind the throne a man stepped forward. His clothes cleaned and pressed. A robe of gold and white and he wore a large brimmed wizard hat. Strung across his shoulders was a nap sack of leather.

Winterdel gave a hearty laugh as the young man stepped out “I should of known”

“This is true my King, Winterdel has been producing these things on the bases of destroying your kingdom and causing an uprising”

Winterdel gave another booming laugh and the crowd gasped “Sir, this is a mistake. The first time I wrote about you was after your defeat at the hills of Jell. Someone” Winterdel called to the crowd “produce this book and then produce the writings of the Crowell as well” he cleared his throat and continued “I wrote that that king was arrogant, feebly, and quick to lose his tempter. Instead of taking responsibility for the defeat, he berated his generals and army for was his error. I called him a horse that had no hooves. But! Even with this I also wrote, he is young, if he grows and learns he could become a great king.”

The king had returned to sitting on this throne and looked annoyed at his personal defeats being brought up.

“Someone confirm please, bring him the paper” Someone from the crowd cried that they had found both texts that had been called for. They handed them to the guards and they were brought up to the king.

“Sir, this might be just a trick, volumes, might be modified, switched, this could be magic”

“Silence” The king said sternly.

“That would be on page one hundred and thirty, but let me guide your eyes to the writing of Crowell, this was after I had written many times on the king, repeating my observations, the growth that I could not see. But here, page four hundred, when I had caught him after another defeat. This time -”

Winterdel let his last sentence hang in the air. The whole court was silent, waiting.

“This time the king showed me something, a spark of his greatness. A window into the king that he would later become. After his defeat he took time to visit and help his army and generals. Feed the starving battle hardened soldiers, comfort and heal those that had been wounded. He steered his crowds with chants of hope and ideals of a place that would later become this kingdom. He took his first step into actually being a king.”

The crowd clapped a cheered at the past revelation. The roar grew so that it over took Winterdel until he rose his roped hands into the air.

“But, what I see here before me is not that king. I see the king after Jell, the King that has regressed, to a to-be king.”

“This charlatan speaks and writes falsehoods” Sheldren pointed

“Never” Winterdel roared “I do not write falsehoods, only the truth before my eyes, only once have a I ever speculated, and that was about the Malaberg.”

The king leapt from this throne, the whole court cried out and silenced immediately at the name.

“You speak the name of the beast in my court.” The king shook as he spoke “You have brought a storm of curses upon us”

“If I spoke ill of the Malaberg or untruth, yes, but this is true, or at least true to my eyes and soul. I call speculative because the Malaberg is something that is allusive as the scent of ones true love.”

The king returned to his throne and the crowd leaned in as Winterdel started to speak

“It was in Faljer.” A women screamed in the back of the room and the crowd started to vibrate with nervousness.

“That is immpossible, no one survived Faljer” the king said.

“I was not there when it happened, but I arrived just as it was finished. For those that have not heard the tale of Faljer, let me assure you that this tale is true. A large town just behind the Fal mountains. Prominent for it’s wheat and barley it was a peaceful place that was sought by many. One fall solstice a storm poured all around the town and surrounding areas. A storm from the age of legends. Lightening, rain, hail, water spirits riding the thunder and slicing through everything. Nothing was safe, nature had shown that it was sick of our meddling and that it was going to sweep our feeble souls up with it’s wind. Many beleieve that this storm was the cause of the fall of Faljer, but I -”

Winterdel took a deep breath in, the crowd mimicked.

“I rose my hands to great nature and said I would not be denied. So I traversed the grand storm. Twenty, no less, twenty times my life and soul were almost reaped by her spirits, yet I made it to the gates of Faljer. There was no storm there. The sky clear as a crisp apple day. The wind settled cozily. I stepped into Faljer which was not wet with rain, but with blood, body parts and faces that contorted in horror that even if I was the greatest actor on the planet I would not be able to reproduce the looks with out falling victim. My legs moved with out me knowing, my eyes took in the carnage until my legs stopped moving. As if they had eyes of their own I look forward to see what they had seen.“

The court was buzzing in anticipation and nervousness. As if what was being said should not be heard, a buggy going off a cliff. One could not look away or shut their ears.

“The Malaberg. It’s cape was a dark brown, heavy and looked as if it was made out of leather or skin. Storm cloud black armor with needles and blades protruding in all directions adorned it. It’s helmet had large horns spreading out into the air and sharp corners. It’s eyes burned a deep red. In it’s two gauntlet hands were two large maces that held bits of flesh and bone from the townsfolks. It did not move, it did not breathe. If one did not look closely, one would miss it. As if it stood stiller then a statue. My soul rose from my body and I stood, eyes affixed. Then it moved, but I did not. It’s movements were so fluid that I thought it might be made out of water. Between fluid movements and complete stillness it turned and looked around. Then it stepped forward. As it’s foot struck the ground it sent a ripple out from it that I could feel through my whole being. It saw me. With out it’s blazing eyes staring, I knew that it had seen me. It stepped one more in a direction away from me, and I ran. I ran faster then I could tell my self. I had heard the stories and I awaited a mace to my skull, my bones and spirits being ripped from wailing body. I ran from this, but also towards it. I ran to the gates and straight into a set of imperial guards escorting a band of fellows to the town. I was mad, I raved for days after that. I took months to recover my mind.”

There was silence in the court as they all took it in and recovered themselves. The king sat staring deeply and Winterdel.

“Guards, execute the young Sheldren, as he has been spreading the lies” the king said quietly.

The guards moved to take Sheldren.

“Wait wait, my king, let me offer a more devilish punishment. Discredit young Sheldren, credit me. Let his name be desecrated by your rule and restore mine. This will ensure the punishment follows him for the rest of his days, don’t let it be so easy for him”

Sheldren begged for death in front of the king, but he took Winterdel’s idea. Sheldren the writer, was now known as Sheldren the False.

–

The gates to the main kingdom closed behind them. Winterdel and Sheldren walked hand and hand on the dirt road into the large forest south of the castle.

“You know, I knew it was you as soon as I started reading what was being said. Your prose, it’s still weak, improved, but still weak. I am more ashamed that some thought that the prose came from me” Winterdel said

“Why did you do that, why didn’t you let them just kill me” Sheldren sighed

“You fool, you left there with your life, as long as your alive you can keep writing. Change your name, change your style, do what ever you want now. We the writers choose what will be read. If you die and something is declared about you then there is nothing you can do about it.”

They came to a small inn off the main road.

“This is where I am to rest my feet, not as young as I used to be”

“Is it true, you saw the Malaberg?”

Winterdel took in a deep breathe and frowned nodding. “Yes, I did. It took me almost a year to write anything after witnessing that thing, I taught you well Sheldren. I know we had our fights and that you hate me, but please, live, write, for both of us”

Sheldren lips quivered as his eyes filled up with tears “I will, see you when my eyes set upon you”

“See you when my eyes set upon you Sheldren, Godspeed”

Inspired by a bit of Hyperion and the Shrike. When I thought of the monster I pictured something like the Shrike from the Hyperion series. This whole story came to me during my shower the other day. The monologue between the king and Winterdel took place and when he was accused of falsehoods the story of the Malaberg entered to make it a bit more mystical. I would be up to returning to this world, it is very magical, but at the same time, some beasts are to scary to be real, odd isn’t it.

“Dear Sir Wellingson, you have been summoned to the kingdom of Cleritch”

The two men stood in silence.

“And?”

“That’s it, you have been summoned” The man said and then rolled up the scroll. “So, your going to go” A sheep bleated out in the valley “right?”

“Well I don’t know” The summoned man said.

“Well you have to go, you know, that’s sorta what a summoning is. Are you going to refuse the call to action? Refute the summons?”

The summoned man shook his head “I didn’t say I was not going to go I jus-“

“Going then”

“Wait a minute”

“Fine, then do not obey the summoning”

“No, no I am going to go” the summoned man said

The two men stood again staring at each other while the windmill above them turned with a dull screech.

“You’re going because you want to,or because I told you not to?”

“I am going because I want to go”

“Not because you are going against what I said?” The man with the scroll leaned forward.

“Yes, I will go because I want to. Nothing you said made a difference. I will go to this place” The summoned man gestured with his hand, searching “what was the name of it again?”

The man with the scroll stammered “Oh,uh” he unrolled and searched the two lines “Cleritch” he cleared his throat.

“Yes to Cleritch” The summoned man said standing proudly nodding in approval to himself. He then furrowed his brow and asked “What am I being summoned for?”

The man with the scroll shrugged “Didn’t say, but Cleritch knows you have accepted”

“What? How? You haven’t even gone anywhere, how did you let them know?”

“Destiny? or maybe that’s how summoning works. I’m just the messenger, don’t look at me” The man with the scroll waved him off then pointed to the sky “Here’s our ride.

In the yellowish dark sky a carriage adorned in pure black with golden trim that twisted and turned in sleek natural curves being pulled by two large rams jettisoned out and towards them. It was silent as it made a large circle in the air and then almost as if it weighed nothing, pulled besides them. The two rams, larger then any the summoned man had seen, horns spiraling with lighting wrapped around them floated just above the ground. The door creaked open revealing that the inside was much larger then it appeared on the outside.

“Right, because you want to go” the man with the scroll stepped inside.

The man who was summoned, the man that had accepted because he wanted to, stood wide eyed for a moment, then stepped in. He was being summoned by Cleritch.

This was one of those moments where I was in the kitchen doing something and I just had this conversation between two characters about being summoned. It might of been funnier in the moment, but I like dialogue that is quick. People have so many ways of speaking to each other and it would be fun to explore in the written format. It might be difficult, but I think it would be worth it. Another dimension to the characters. The ending the with carriage is something I made up, I have been playing Eldin Ring and I would imagine this carriage being in that game.

Well Cheers!

It had been two weeks days since the sun had not risen. The night had fallen like it had always done, but in the morning, the sun did not awaken to shine. Then the next day, nothing, total darkness. The country side lit large bonfires and started gathering wood at alarming rates to hold out until the sun came back to greet them.

Ten would go into the woods, nine would return. Then the number decreased, villagers started to huddle in their houses staring out into the abyss hearing the growls and snarls of something unknown. The bloodbath was about to begin.

Peter sat staring out of their window looking towards the south fields. He could see a couple of torches burning out in the distance illuminating the front and windows of houses and a small village in the distance. He checked on his own flames to make sure that they were no dwindling. They whipped in the night air, soon, but not yet. His wife Jennifer sat at the dining table with their daughter Sue. Their house was only two rooms. The kitchen, dining and writing room were all the same. Then there was their bedroom. He peered back at them. Sue was only five. She wondered when the sun would come back so she could go out and play. He told her that the sun had gotten a bit ill and that it would be back soon. That the moon was watching over them for a little bit. He wished it were true. He returned to gazing outside. They were running out of food, wood, and water. A single week was left.

Far out in the distance at the top of the south fields the village of Tinshin blazed. They kept a bonfire going as long as they could, even disassembling houses and burning any wood they could get their hands on. Peter looked out at the blaze. It gave him a bit of hope, even thought he knew they would run out of wood eventually. Suddenly his hope whipped wildly. It grew larger and larger and then, the hope died. Peter jumped to his feet and leaned out the window to focus. Tinshin was dark.

The burning inferno was no longer lighting them. Then the screams started. A whole village cried out, clawed for survival with their voices. It echoed out into the dark air. He could see nothing, but he could hear it. And what his imagination brought was even more terrifying. He could see the farm houses down the hill in the fields whipping their torches around. Moving around their houses in frantic paces. The screaming continued, but the crescendo was dying off. He turned to his wife who was covering Sue’s ears.

“We have to leave” he stammered,not believing what he was saying.

Jennifer bit her lower lip and nodded in silence. She uncovered the child’s ears and led her to the bedroom. He could hear them start talking about going on a trip to meet the sun. Peter grabbed his bag and crammed as much food and supplies as he could into it. He checked his musket, and then his sword. He wasn’t the most experienced fighter, but he could handle himself decently. Jennifer and Sue came out of the room with Sue bouncing up and down ready for an adventure. Jennifer’s face was long, empty and grim. He could only imagine what his looked like. He stuffed a bunch of small torches into a bag and took the two lit torches off walls by the door. One for him, one for Jennifer and Sue would be in between their shielding lights. They stood just out side their door. Their fireplace still blazing inside. The safety, the warmth. He looked south again. The screams had stopped. He could see the houses were still lit out in the distance and the people still danced around. Probably doing the same as they were. Then they started to dim. He could feel the panic as the torches in their hands started to die out. They whipped back and form in a panic and headed back to the hearth of the house, to the fire, to safety. But even that dimmed, burst, and then went out.

The screaming started again.

“Come on” He grabbed Sues hand and pulled her into the darkness towards the woods. He hoped. He bet their lives that if they made it to the main road that they could find the royal army. Since the darkness fell, the royal army had been gathering resources and fortify the main road for farmers and small villages to get to the capital. When the woods started to get dangerous, no one dared to venture for their help. They had no choice now.

The screams had stopped a while back. The trees had dampened them when they had entered, but even with all the barriers they still pierced the ears. Now just the sound of them rustling through the brushes and dry leaves filled the air. Peter waved his torch back and forth trying to search his way, With no moon light, no stars, nothing, the blackness became claustrophobic. He could only see a couple of feet in front of him and he feared that the light would soon start dimming if the monster got closer to them. Their daughter started humming a small tune and they all joined in a nervous choir navigating the darkness. Suddenly a large cracking sound came to their left. They stopped and swung their torches in that direction. Heavy breathing and heartbeats filled Peters ears, he stepped closer in the direction of the sound. As he did he noticed his torch flicker and start to dim.

“Run!” He screamed then turned around and grabbed Sue, pulling her up into his arms. They sprinted through the forest. Thorns and branches tearing at their skin, vines tempting to trip them and feed them to the monsters. Slopes that opened up into an abyss. Then they could see something in the distance. Light. The main road. It was illuminated by sun stones they had said. Both of their torches sputtered and his went out, he tossed Sue to his wife and pull his musket from around his back. She ran towards the light her torch starting to dim at each step. She heard a musket fire ring from behind her and she clutched Sue harder. On the road it looked like a band of royal guards were passing by, now alerted by the musket shot they had turn in her direction.

She waved with her torch and screamed for help. They started to scrambled and lined up pulling their muskets at the ready. She dove in front of them and slid on her back as their muskets rang out into the darkness. They loaded and fired again. The shots illuminated the forest and the darkness just enough that her eyes caught one of the horrors that now owned the shade. It’s eyes were small round dots of pure metallic glass. Teeth large, jagged, which it looked to have multiple rows of. Tiny arms jettisoned out from it’s large round body, which was also it’s head, which sat upon four large thick legs. It smiled with it’s shark teeth at her when the light hit it. Like it knew it was only a matter of time.

Jennifer set Sue to the ground near the Guards feet, she was crying hysterically from the sound of the muskets.

“Peter!” Jennifer screamed into darkness. The guards still stood at the ready. It was silent, then rustling came from in front of them. She screamed again for her husband and then put her hands up to give what ever it was in front of them a moment before being blasted to pieces. The rustling stopped. Her eyes searched as best as they could. The light form the sun stones that sat on top of poles made it hard to see now.

The rustling got louder and Peter burst into the light hitting the ground hard and crawling to her. “Oh my god, Peter” Jennifer leapt grabbing him with trembling hands to pull him into the light. He was shaking, blood soaked his shirt and he had a large gash on his side, but he was alive. The family held each other under the line of muskets peering into the darkness that had chased them. They had escaped for now. Their screams would not be heard drowning in the night.

The other day I was sitting outside and listening to the sounds of everything when I heard a dog barking. It sounded very far away, but I could still hear it, even with all the noise of modern life. Now not sure why my brain thought this, but the question of “hm I wonder how far away you could of heard a scream back in the olden days when there was no traffic noise and all the other stuff that filled up our ears now a days” I needed a setting and no better one then something I have had in my mind for a while.

The story in this is actually part of a larger story I would like to write one day. I thought it would be interesting to see how humans would build civilizations if one day the planet went completely dark and that monsters lived in that darkness. How would they build differently, how would they operate differently. This story takes place just after the this even that takes away the sun happens.

In this the monsters are not in every inch of darkness, but just starting to roam around. Soon no darkness is safe.

The house sat in darkness. It creaked and moaned under the heater as it started and blasted it’s way through the long ventilation. Todd awoke with ice running down his spine. A feeling startled him out of a dead sleep and he arose from his bed wrapping his night gown around him. The house was gaining warmth, but his skin still stood on edge. He moved out his room and down the large hallway to the main sitting room. Light from the moon filtered through the large windows. It was silent, besides the thumping of his footsteps against hardwood. He passed through the kitchen and then turned down to face another hallway. Usually a star night light brought a yellow aura to the this section of the house.

To keep the monsters in check.

It was dark. Todd reached for the light switched and clicked the over head lights on. They did not illuminate. He took a step back and flipped a lamp on in the main sitting room. It brought a pale yellow light that stretched just barely to the middle of the hallway.

“Charlie” he called out as he stepped back into the hallway then stopped. Pouring out of the shadows in front of him was dark red liquid. It crept smoothly and filled the whole floor towards him. His eyes grew large.

“Charlie!” he screamed.

Then the light from the lamp was allowed just a bit more into the darkness. A boy stood. He wore star and moon pajamas that were striped. His blond hair frayed all over from bed head. The boy looked towards his dad.

“Oh my god, Charlie, come here” His dad ushered. The liquid now slithered past his feet.

The boy stood motionless.

“Please, Charlie, come to daddy. Come on” Todd tried to keep his voice calm, but it quivered, just as his mouth did.

The boy stood motionless then fell forward, slamming into the floor with a sickening slap into the thick liquid.

The mans eyes widened straining against his skull to take in as much information as he could. His mouth sat agape until it took in a full breathe of air to fill the lungs that had just been stabbed.

He screamed and splashed towards the boy. He knelt down reaching for the boy, but something reached for him.

Arms. Multiple of them wretched from the darkness on the ceiling, the walls, and along the floor. The reached for him as he grasped his baby boy in his arms. He stilled screamed as he cradled the boy and looked up towards the darkness. Just beyond the veil of shadow a face emerged. Barely seen by Todds eyes. It’s face was smooth black, no nose. Eyes were shiny black ovals. Needle teeth stretched in a grisly smile in a mouth that extended three times the length it should. The arms encircled. The mouth opened. Todd weeped and rocked him and his boy into an endless sleep.

Carl leaned against the cop car in the autumn night air. Blue and red lights highlighted the mansion that at least 5 squad cars and an ambulance surrounded.

“Carl, about time you arrived” A cop walked up to him.

“Mick, what the hell is happening here. I got a call over the radio for all cars to get here asap. Kid and his father missing or something”

“yeah, yup” Mick rubbed his eyes “Kid and his father”

“Did you find them?”

Mick stared up into the sky and after a long silence said “yeah, we found them. On the ceiling, on the walls, all over the kitchen and family room. We found them alright”

“First the guy with the pens all over the place, now this. That was only two weeks ago. What the hell is happening around here” Carl said. He looked towards the house. He could see red splatter over some of the tall windows. “My god”

“Give the men in black a few minutes to finish up, It’s going to be a long night”

This was inspired by the old horror movies where kids were not safe. There was a rule in Hollywood or in movies that came about that you couldn’t hurt the children, or the dog. I understand why they do this. I had this vision of this scene from a hallway in my house. When the kitchen light is on, it only illuminates half of this hallway leaving the other half completely pitch black. I wonder what stares at me from that abyss.

I might revisit this in the future as I started off with a good vision of it, but after a bit of time started stumbling on the prose and how I wanted to present it. The scene in my head is a lot more, ‘impactful’ ? Anyway, hopefully this is the last of monster attacks for the poor citizens, though, I highly doubt it.

“And you said you received something form him? What did you receive?”

“I received two gifts” the man said with his eyes looking a round the room. He spoke slowly, enthusiastically and gleeful “He gave me two gifts”

“The first gift?”

The mans face lit up in a wide childish smile “Answers, answers to any question you could ask. Answers to all the questions you wouldn’t even know to ask”

“And the second?”

“Power. Unexplainable, unconscionable, power” The man said leaning back into the small metal chair. Spotlights stared at him behind the man in the black suit that was questioning him. Two men flanked him, he could not see their heads because of the lights. “He gave me these two gifts. Even if I wanted to explain them to you” The man raised his arms and waved them in the air “I would have no idea how. There is no explanation that can be given, no words to describe, even if I showed you, you wouldn’t see”

“How do we know you actually have these gifts?”

The man gave a small laugh “Please, if I didn’t have them, we wouldn’t be here right now. You wouldn’t of found me. He gave them to me, not you”

“And what if we kill you and take them?”

“We both know you can’t kill me”

There was a silence in the room. The spotlights buzzed and the men in black sat and stood as statues.

“You know, you guys have spent more money and time then anyone on the face of this planet. Sitting at the top of your obsidian pyramid. Controlling, scheming the world. Looking for answers, looking for power, looking for these. And yet, he never gives them to you.”

“You know you are not the only one to receive gifts from him” The man in black said.

“Yes, I know”

“Then you must know what fate awaits you”

“He has become very annoyed with you because of that. Every time he gives gifts, you snatch them away. Torturing, interrogating, mutilating, trying to gain what isn’t yours. He knows and he prepared me.”

“Prepared? What makes you any different?”

There was as slight hum that coursed around the room then followed by a high pitched squeal that needled into everything. The lights started to spasm and then died. The small room was dark. The men in black scrambled for lights, but something then illuminated them. Glowing red eyes, hot as magma that seemed to burn when they gazed in ones direction. Red streaks of glowing ember coursed down the mans body and he stood staring in their direction. The men screamed, pulling their pistols from their jacket and firing at will. Each bullet hit the man square, but they simply burst into bright light.

“All that were chosen” The man said, his voice dark and distorted “Will be free. You, false soothsayers, men of non equal, creatures of lies and violence. Burn in your own devices” As the man stopped speaking the three men burst into flames. Their wild screams filled the air and alarms started to blare in unison. They whipped wildly searching for refuge until their bodies started to bloat and with a sickening crunch they erupted burning flesh and blood on to the room. The man stepped towards the door and it blew off it’s hinges.

His feet left scorched earth, his vision burned what it saw, his voice made ears rupture and his touch tainted.

The alarms blared, emergency lights flickered. There were 13 floors that stood between him and the rest of the world.

Sometimes I have monologues with my self. I don’t know why or how they come about. I stand up from my desk. I speak a line and act out a scene while walking around. This, up until the deaths of the agents, I acted out while making lunch. Who knows why the mind and body work in such a way.

They sat in Seths room looking over the blackboard that was to the right of his computer. On it was quantum equations, obscure math and impossible combinations of science. If any respectable scientist looked into that room, they would see nonsense, kids dreams and ridiculous theories. Seth stood next to the board flipping a marker in his hand. Bill sat with his legs crossed over each other and leaned back on to bed.

“So what you are saying that if we add those, then just take out the subatomic equation and then run it past the speed of light, we should be able to summon a black hole?” Bill said looking dejected.

Seth ran his hand through his side swept hair and started writing again on the board. “What I am saying is, that if we take this” he circled a equation on the board and then drew another arrow to another equation. He had to snake around a few other drawings and numbers to get there “and add this, then” He started to draw more lines. It all made no sense “Then this” he started to draw a cat. All of a sudden the lines connected and in the mess of equations and calculations the nonsense made sense. Bill lept from the bed to get a closer look at the board.

“How…” Bill stumbled on something on the floor while following the lines to the cat on the right side of the board. “How did you figure this out?” He asked as his finger landed on the cat.

“Carlton helped me out.” Seth said.

“Who?”

“You know that kid at the back of our science class. Wears air jordans, golden horned glasses and dresses like he is form the Victorian era.” There was silence “He has the faded haircut” Still Silence. “He’s pretty shy, he gets to class a bit late and leaves early, probably why you have never seen him.” Bill was a model student. He would practically run to the next class to claim a seat in the front and when class was in session, he was was engaged until the end.

“I see” Bill nodded still studying the blackboard. “Alright, let’s do it, let’s summon the entity of creation”

Seth and Bill scurried around the room gathering glass and electronics. They worked feverishly and diligently for a couple of hours. Putting together a small machine which consisted of two circuit boards, and large glass cathode in the middle.The circuit boards had large power cords slinking out of them and around the corner out the bedroom door all the way to the garage where they hooked up in to powerful generator.

“Alright alright, one more thing, be right back” Seth disappeared out of the room and returned a couple minutes later holding a black cat. It’s eyes were a greenish color and had short fur. It made one long low meow then hung from his hands. “Start it up”

Bill hit two switches on the right side of the machine then another three on the left side. The machine whirled to life. Red and green lights lit up on both sides and you could feel the power from the cables being sucked into it. The cathode smoked inside and lights flashed in brilliant vibrancy. There was pop and the smoke vanished and small black dot that if one was not looking with the best vision would not be able to see.

“The Cat” Bill said moving to remove the circle door to the cathode. Seth started to move towards the machine when a banging came at the door and Carlton burst in.

“Seth, I said a white cat, not a black one” Carlton said catching his breath.

“What?” Seth could barely hear over the hissing noise coming form the atomic sized black hole. The cat grew impatient and hissed. It squirmed and clawed at his hands. Then it’s sharp teeth bit down into him “Yow” The cat dropped from his hand, but it was so close to the cathode that is stopped in mid air. It hovered just beyond the glass where the black hole resided then moved closer. The cat start to turn into mist and quickly before anyone could realize it vanished in to the tube. A rumbling came from inside it and a burst of energy swept through them. Then it seemed as if a wave of distortion flowed slowly from the black hole as it popped out of existence. The machine whirled and seemed to die as the glass cathode cracked.

They stood in silence staring at the machine.

“Weren’t you listening when I said “It has to be a WHITE cat, make sure it is not a BLACK cat”” Carlton said

“I thought you said it needed to black because that’s what space was basically made out of and the calumniation of all colors made black. What does it mean? What happened?” Seth started to panic and pace.

They all looked around for any anomalies or changes. Nothing seemed to be any different.

“Guys” Bill said looking out the window “I think I found the cat”

Out side the window sitting in the street near the sidewalk was black cat. They all rushed down the stairs and into the street.

The cat sat. Undisturbed. Uncaring. It was fluffy now and had white hair on it’s chest and coming out of it’s long ears. The eyes were now a burnt orange. It said looking regal and in charge, it looked a bit around and then at the three of them.

“Oh thank god, nothing to wild” Seth said letting out a long nervous laugh

“Humans” A voice spoke.

All three of them searched for the mouth.

“You hear that?” Carlton looked at Bill. He nodded and swallowed hard.

The cat sat with it’s chest floofed out and it’s eyes seemed to narrow on them.

“You three have summoned me. Summoned me into an odd vessel, but a vessel none the less. We will now commence what I have been summoned for” It’s voice was deep and crisp. It sounded as if it was about to announce a sports game.

“And what have you been summoned for?” Seth asked.

“To annihilate……everything” it responded.

“wait what?” Bill stammered “What are you”

“The Entity of Destruction”

The three stood mouth agape. Their goal had been reversed. One minor detail, and instead of creating their dreams, they were going to destroy everything. Seth put up his hands and started searching for something in his jacket pocket. He produced a small ball. Catnip. He threw it at the cat. It hit it straight in the face. All three winced visibly.

The cat did not seem to be bothered. Then it’s eye twitched and it peered down at the ball. It lept for it and as it pounced a black shadow unearthed itself and the cat and ball disappeared. Then appeared across the street, rolling and clawing at the ball, then it disappeared again. It teleported all around them clawing and biting at the ball of catnip till it reappeared in front of them floating in the air. The ball hovered several inches from the cat.

“Enough” it said. The ball seemed to unravel it’s self and then explode into small black fireworks. The cat slowly came back to the ground and returned to it’s regal position. It’s head snapped to Seth.

“You” It’s eyes closed then opened to a sinister glare “I will disassemble you atom by atom if you attempt that again”

“Wait wait” Bill said stepping in front of the others “uh what is your name again”

“Authokmlatojfdsi Daj”

“Uh, authklm”

“Authokmlatojfdsi Daj“

“Authhbf“

“Just call me …… Chex”

“Chex?” Bill had to stifle a laugh

“Yes, as I was moving across space I saw something that looked like the quantum weave of reality. Since I will unravel such a thing, I thought it was an apt name”

“ookay, Chex. We left a gift in our room for you. You know you being the entity of destruction and all, we thought we could welcome you a bit. You wait here and we will be right back” Bill signaled to his friends to head back inside.

“I shall await your return” Chex said. It still sat in the middle of the road and Bill felt strange leaving a cat there. Even though it was no longer just a simple cat.

“Maybe you want to move over to the sidewalk? Might be a bit safer” Bill ushered Chex to his feet.

Chex gave a disapproving glare “There is nothing in this reality that can harm me” A car was fast approaching.

“There is a car coming, it will hit you”

“Yes,yes it will”

Bill started to panic. Even if this thing was set to annihilate everything, it still was cat “No really, you need to move” he moved closer to the street and waved his hands at the driver. They were distracted of course. “Chex” Bill screamed.

The car going five miles over the speed limit at thirty miles per hour barreled into Chex. The right wheel slammed right into the cat, but instead of Chex being smashed into the ground, the car bounced off him and skyrocketed into the air. It kept going and going until it disappeared out of site.

The three of them stood mouths agaped with their necks craned to the sky to see if the car would return to orbit. It would not.

Chex. The entity of destruction. The black cat with a bit of white fur. Sat with it’s fluffy chest puffed out, eyes staring at the humans with disappointment and sinister thoughts of destruction.

“Oh my god” Carlton finally spoke after a moment of silence “Oh man, oh my god” he searched blindly for his friends with his eyes still wide to the sky. He found their shoulders and pulled them towards and into the house.

They shut the door. Then collapsed.

“What did we do, what do we do?” Seth wiped the sweat off his forehead.

Carlton was still looking into the sky, which was now just the ceiling. His head shaking back and forth and a deep frown on his face “Nope, no , no I don’t think so , nope, not happening.” He repeated to no one.

Bill massaged his temples “Okay okay, Carlton said we needed a white cat for the Entity of Creation. So we get a white cat, we summon it and …”

“And?” Carlton and Seth said in unison

“I don’t know they battle it out or something, maybe they cancel each other out” Seth threw up his arms.

They all sat in silence for a moment pondering what other options they had. There were none. Or at least none that made any more sense then that.

“Okay” Seth said.

“Alright” Carlton nodded.

“Seth, you do something with Chex”

“What? Why me?”

“It’s your cat. Carlton, you and I will rig another machine and find a white cat” Bill put his hand out “Alright, here is to not destroying the world”

“This was not worth having endless supplies of pizza and root beer” Seth put his hand in.

“That’s why you were going to summon - you know what, doesn’t matter now” Carlton threw his hand in.

They gave a cheer and broke. Hopefully, nothing else went wrong.

This thought came to me in the middle of the night of a cat looking so annoyed and stately. Cats have those human expressions on their faces sometimes. They look and you see an annoyed face staring at you. What do you think they are thinking?

I have been reading alot about Quantumn and Schrödinger’s Cat came into my mind.