I really didn;t feel like being there. The office required a certain amount of these retreats every year, and it was nearly December. I had to get three more under my belt by the end of the year or face a demotion. So, i came here, to a "Improving Relationships, Adjusting Timelines, Efficiency" (IRATE) conference. It did get me out of the office, but I would still have to make up my work when I got back. Still, it was only a few hours away and at a fairly nice resort.
"So, you see by Chart A-17, Page 65 in your conference workbooks, that the main production line blah blah blah..." I kinda zoned out after the first few charts. They were all big colorful graphs and tables that showed a bunch of arbitrary information I' never use. I had people who did that for me, after all.
It was just after three when the meetings for the day ended, and I took my little notebook, filled with doodles and random thoughts I'd written to the bar. I got myself a Scotch and soda and went to stare out the big bay window that separated us civilized folk from the joys of nature. I missed the days camping with my family, back when we used to live in Montana. but, sending me and my sisters to college had left my family in a financial bind, and when the bank raised our mortgage on the ranch, we were forced to sell. that's why I'd gotten into business in the first place, and I'm working on a deal to get that ranch back. It had been several years since we'd even seen the place, but I wanted to give it to my parents for their retirement. I hoped to do so early.
"Pardon me, Mr. Coogan?"
I looked up, into the face of an absolute angel. She wore a cute little outfit, the kind you might find in a risque' stage show, her tight bluejean shorts hugging her hips, and her checkered shirt was about a size too small. A brown cowboy hat and slick leather boots finished out the outfit, and her beatific smile brought me right into comfort. I slid over on the bench but she just smiled and stood there, her bright blue eyes sparkling in the florescent lighting of the lounge.
She leaned up against the window, her long shapely legs crossed at the ankle and she removed her hat, letting long auburn hair fall over her shoulders. She never took her eyes off me.
I looked around a bit, but it seems that nobody else had noticed her. I was a little surprised, given how beautiful and out-of-place she seemed in a place like this.
She tossed her hat in my direction and it landed just to my left side on the arm of the couch.
"I hear you're looking to reacquire the ranch your family lost some years back. I figure I can help you out with that, if you're willing to do something for me that is."
I smiled and stood, finishing my drink.
"Depends on what it is you want," I said to her, giving her my best sly smile.
"Not a whole lot, really, when you think about it. You'll never even miss it."
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Monday, July 25, 2011
Diaphanous
The moonlight cut open Dave's eyelids and he sat up with a start, his room lit brightly in the midnight darkness by a strange sight. There before him was a woman, beautiful and fair, her eyes dark pools of starry sky, her hair long, and blonde, wafting gently in a breeze that wasn't there, and her gown was flowy, a diaphanous mesh that left just enough to the imagination to be provocative.
Dave slid backwards, resting his back against the wall as he pulled the covers up tight around his chin and watched the gorgeous figure before him gaze gracefully around, as if searching for something invisible. He studied her eyes when she happened to glance in his direction, and seemed drawn in by even the slightest catch of her eye. He slowly moved to the edge of the bed and slipped a foot onto the floor, cautiously standing up in his charcoal gray boxers and cleared his throat, immediately drawing the woman's attention.
"Um, hi. I'm not sure who you are or what you want, but, this is my house, and I'd appreciate it if you left."
She snaked her neck around a bit, her lithe movements slow and methodical, before in an instant she was upon him, with a strength hidden by her size. She held him against the wall and ran her eyes over him, briefly closing them and inhaling deeply just by his neck. He shivered slightly as her ice cold breath tickled his skin. Her fingers dug into the flesh of his bicep for a moment before she looked at him and smiled, revealing three rows of razor sharp teeth before flicking her tongue at him and letting him go. She sat down on his bed, the odd smile frozen on her face and watched him intently, waiting. He pulled himself up, rubbing his arm and the bruises she had given him. He once again sat on his bed as far from her as he could and continued to watch.
The odd woman reached to her back and with a gentle flick of her wrist undid a silver clasp that Dave hadn't noticed before, flinging the sheer garment she was wearing to the floor. With a long, lazy stretch she lay down on the bed, her body covered now with just the shadows that dared to creep back into the room. Her shimmering gown lay on the floor, glowing softly . Her attention seemed to be on something above her.
Dave's eyes traced her form, which was for all intents flawless. Her skin was sparkling when the light caught it just right, and Dave swore he could make out tiny scales covering her body. She suddenly sat up straight with a tense of her body and stared at him, sliding over the bed with inhuman flexing and stared into his eyes, all the while wearing that inhuman smile.
His attention squarely on the intruder, Dave failed to notice the shiny garment on the floor begin to stir...
Dave slid backwards, resting his back against the wall as he pulled the covers up tight around his chin and watched the gorgeous figure before him gaze gracefully around, as if searching for something invisible. He studied her eyes when she happened to glance in his direction, and seemed drawn in by even the slightest catch of her eye. He slowly moved to the edge of the bed and slipped a foot onto the floor, cautiously standing up in his charcoal gray boxers and cleared his throat, immediately drawing the woman's attention.
"Um, hi. I'm not sure who you are or what you want, but, this is my house, and I'd appreciate it if you left."
She snaked her neck around a bit, her lithe movements slow and methodical, before in an instant she was upon him, with a strength hidden by her size. She held him against the wall and ran her eyes over him, briefly closing them and inhaling deeply just by his neck. He shivered slightly as her ice cold breath tickled his skin. Her fingers dug into the flesh of his bicep for a moment before she looked at him and smiled, revealing three rows of razor sharp teeth before flicking her tongue at him and letting him go. She sat down on his bed, the odd smile frozen on her face and watched him intently, waiting. He pulled himself up, rubbing his arm and the bruises she had given him. He once again sat on his bed as far from her as he could and continued to watch.
The odd woman reached to her back and with a gentle flick of her wrist undid a silver clasp that Dave hadn't noticed before, flinging the sheer garment she was wearing to the floor. With a long, lazy stretch she lay down on the bed, her body covered now with just the shadows that dared to creep back into the room. Her shimmering gown lay on the floor, glowing softly . Her attention seemed to be on something above her.
Dave's eyes traced her form, which was for all intents flawless. Her skin was sparkling when the light caught it just right, and Dave swore he could make out tiny scales covering her body. She suddenly sat up straight with a tense of her body and stared at him, sliding over the bed with inhuman flexing and stared into his eyes, all the while wearing that inhuman smile.
His attention squarely on the intruder, Dave failed to notice the shiny garment on the floor begin to stir...
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Schadenfreude
"We've got to get out of here, they'll be on us any second!"
The crumbling brick offered little protection from the sounds of gunfire and haze of smoke that covered the ruins of Berrington. The war had taken a long, deadly toll on the peaceful citizens, decimating most of the settlers before any of them could even grab what meager weapons they owned. It was hell to most of them. They'd come here for a new start, new worlds and a new opportunity to see what no one had ever seen. When the announcement had come, millions flocked to the recruitment centers, desperate to get out of the horrid conditions of the few remaining cities that littered the Dying Continents. SO many died in the last few wars over what remained, and even those that were left were scraping by.
The riots were bad in the beginning, until they started culling. Anyone caught fighting were taken to the Fields and left. Few returned and when they did, they never made it to the front of the line. Still it deterred few from trying to edge up a place in line. Ultimately, the culling got to the point that if you so much as jostled someone, you were taken away and not seen again.
There were only fifteen hundred spots on the First Flight. The colony had been established long ago as a simple exploratory outpost, but had been repurposed to hold more than its normal capacity. In theory, it would eventually hold over a billion, resources permitting. The rules were strict, and rationing was mandatory. Anyone caught taking more than his fair share was ejected to the harsh landscape- a death sentence. Still, after a few such incidents, the flow of normalcy established itself and the colony began to grow, adding land and new refugees in.
That was until they came. The colonists called them the "Schadenfreude", because they never killed any of the people , merely took them into their hovering platforms and did things. The truth about what was happening to the captured was a mystery. No one had escaped to confirm, so the stories that circulated amongst the terrified survivors weren't the truth. The horrors were whispered in secret meeting places, hiding from the prying senses of the unseen enemy.
A few of the demons -for that is truly what they felt like- had been wounded but a confirmed kill was never established. You could hear them if you really listened, chattering to each other and scratching the ground with claws that could tear a child from its mother's arms without her having to let go. They came through walls, cars, even fortified bunkers. If they found you, you belonged to them. They wouldn't snatch you away either, they would touch you, and slowly pull you away from your loved ones as they helplessly tried to hold you. That's how they got their name.
Gerard Holdsten described the incident where he lost his sister to me as we hunkered down in our temporary shelter..
"Like trying to grab a ghost, a ghost of the people you love, taken from yo right in front of you, sometimes as you held onto their hand you could feel them fading. And all the time, all you could see of them was that smile, that mock-human smile, the more you hurt, the more they smiled. I'll never shake that, not as long as i live."
The crumbling brick offered little protection from the sounds of gunfire and haze of smoke that covered the ruins of Berrington. The war had taken a long, deadly toll on the peaceful citizens, decimating most of the settlers before any of them could even grab what meager weapons they owned. It was hell to most of them. They'd come here for a new start, new worlds and a new opportunity to see what no one had ever seen. When the announcement had come, millions flocked to the recruitment centers, desperate to get out of the horrid conditions of the few remaining cities that littered the Dying Continents. SO many died in the last few wars over what remained, and even those that were left were scraping by.
The riots were bad in the beginning, until they started culling. Anyone caught fighting were taken to the Fields and left. Few returned and when they did, they never made it to the front of the line. Still it deterred few from trying to edge up a place in line. Ultimately, the culling got to the point that if you so much as jostled someone, you were taken away and not seen again.
There were only fifteen hundred spots on the First Flight. The colony had been established long ago as a simple exploratory outpost, but had been repurposed to hold more than its normal capacity. In theory, it would eventually hold over a billion, resources permitting. The rules were strict, and rationing was mandatory. Anyone caught taking more than his fair share was ejected to the harsh landscape- a death sentence. Still, after a few such incidents, the flow of normalcy established itself and the colony began to grow, adding land and new refugees in.
That was until they came. The colonists called them the "Schadenfreude", because they never killed any of the people , merely took them into their hovering platforms and did things. The truth about what was happening to the captured was a mystery. No one had escaped to confirm, so the stories that circulated amongst the terrified survivors weren't the truth. The horrors were whispered in secret meeting places, hiding from the prying senses of the unseen enemy.
A few of the demons -for that is truly what they felt like- had been wounded but a confirmed kill was never established. You could hear them if you really listened, chattering to each other and scratching the ground with claws that could tear a child from its mother's arms without her having to let go. They came through walls, cars, even fortified bunkers. If they found you, you belonged to them. They wouldn't snatch you away either, they would touch you, and slowly pull you away from your loved ones as they helplessly tried to hold you. That's how they got their name.
Gerard Holdsten described the incident where he lost his sister to me as we hunkered down in our temporary shelter..
"Like trying to grab a ghost, a ghost of the people you love, taken from yo right in front of you, sometimes as you held onto their hand you could feel them fading. And all the time, all you could see of them was that smile, that mock-human smile, the more you hurt, the more they smiled. I'll never shake that, not as long as i live."
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Referred
These kinds of things always made me nervous. I wasn't good with new people, and especially apprehensive when it came to doctors. But, i had been referred to a "specialist" after my last episode, so here i was,palms sweaty and heart racing as i approached the back alley door. The neighborhood was dingy and dirty and not the kind of place I'd expect a doctor, save maybe a seedy clinic that was a no-questions-asked kind of place. But, I was told that Doctor Forles was the best when it came to my...condition.
I knocked, and slid the small piece of paper i had been given through the slot in the dull gray door. Nothing. I waited a few moments and reached my hand up , but thought better of it, having being told to under no circumstances knock more than once. So, I stood there, feeling the dim light pressing down around me, each shadow feeling like it was going to at any moment dive at me, and take me away. Maybe it was part of the process, I thought, and laughed to myself, more a nervous sort of laugh, trying to calm down my overactive imagination than anything else. A few scuttling noises caught my attention, and i dismissed those -out of building terror- as a rat, or a cat in the garbage cans.
Thirty minutes stretched into an hour, and i stood there, still waiting, not a sound coming to indicate that anyone was even there. Why was i here again? A back alley in the middle of the night, in a city I didn't know, waiting for a mysterious doctor that may or may not even exist.
I cleaned my glasses for the hundredth time and loosened my tie. I'd worn my sport jacket from work and that tie I got last year at the company Christmas exchange. Beth. She'd drawn my name for it, and thought i needed some color. SO the tie was a reproduction of some artist's work, all straight lines and colored squares. I didn't care for it at first, but it became my favorite the more I talked to Beth. She was nice, but not my usual type. We'd gone out socially a few times but nothing serious. Maybe after this visit we'd go do something together. I really don't go out on dates,but if we kept it casual, I think we'd have a good time.
Another hour passed, and the cold was starting to creep in. I put my jacket back on, and considered going back to the car for my overcoat. I thought better of it, not wanting to miss the one chance I might get to see this...person. I wasn't even sure if the Doctor was a guy or girl. I'd just been given a name, a time, and a place, and the paper.
The street noise was dying down by now, adding to the disquiet of silence that was creeping upon me from every shadow. My mind kept running through scenarios, and I shook them out as best i could, trying to keep my thoughts on other things. I wish I'd brought my phone out of the car. At least then i could play tetris.
I knocked, and slid the small piece of paper i had been given through the slot in the dull gray door. Nothing. I waited a few moments and reached my hand up , but thought better of it, having being told to under no circumstances knock more than once. So, I stood there, feeling the dim light pressing down around me, each shadow feeling like it was going to at any moment dive at me, and take me away. Maybe it was part of the process, I thought, and laughed to myself, more a nervous sort of laugh, trying to calm down my overactive imagination than anything else. A few scuttling noises caught my attention, and i dismissed those -out of building terror- as a rat, or a cat in the garbage cans.
Thirty minutes stretched into an hour, and i stood there, still waiting, not a sound coming to indicate that anyone was even there. Why was i here again? A back alley in the middle of the night, in a city I didn't know, waiting for a mysterious doctor that may or may not even exist.
I cleaned my glasses for the hundredth time and loosened my tie. I'd worn my sport jacket from work and that tie I got last year at the company Christmas exchange. Beth. She'd drawn my name for it, and thought i needed some color. SO the tie was a reproduction of some artist's work, all straight lines and colored squares. I didn't care for it at first, but it became my favorite the more I talked to Beth. She was nice, but not my usual type. We'd gone out socially a few times but nothing serious. Maybe after this visit we'd go do something together. I really don't go out on dates,but if we kept it casual, I think we'd have a good time.
Another hour passed, and the cold was starting to creep in. I put my jacket back on, and considered going back to the car for my overcoat. I thought better of it, not wanting to miss the one chance I might get to see this...person. I wasn't even sure if the Doctor was a guy or girl. I'd just been given a name, a time, and a place, and the paper.
The street noise was dying down by now, adding to the disquiet of silence that was creeping upon me from every shadow. My mind kept running through scenarios, and I shook them out as best i could, trying to keep my thoughts on other things. I wish I'd brought my phone out of the car. At least then i could play tetris.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Indefinitely
"But, Jim..."
I whined as my boss turned to exit my small office. He looked back over his shoulder.
"Sorry, Dan, but we don't really have the money to keep you right now. The cuts are hitting us all. My benefits have been suspended, and several of our managers are on unpaid leave. We're really just hemorrhaging money. The stock is in the toilet and we're just treading water right now. We can pay you through the end of the week, but after that, i don't know..."
He really was sorry for having to let me go, i could tell. Jim had always been a good guy, and i knew he wouldn't just be feeding me lies to cover his own ass.
"Okay. Maybe I can figure something out by then. Thanks, Jim."
I found out later that Jim had fought for me, to keep me there. He knew my skills, and if it hadn't been for him i would have been one of the first laid off. A few of my friends had already been put on leave indefinitely. I knew things were bad, but never really got it till i started looking at the numbers. I was always good with the numbers side of things, even though I'd been hired to do IT work. Maybe there was something I could do...
I kissed my wife Alison when i got home, and asked for her help. She wasn't great with the technical stuff, but she was creative and often saw new things I would miss with my clinicallity.
Jim had gotten me copies of the office's financial records, and they were as expected a mess.
I saw a few areas we could cut, a few minor details, but nothing that would really help the company as a whole. Sure, we had a few promising projects that would keep us afloat-if we could get them to the marketplace. I sighed and turned to Ally.
"I have to."
She knew exactly what i meant when i said it, and her eyes started to tear up.
"you swore you wouldn't. We've come so far from that. I know you care about this company and these people, but you ..."
The realization crossed over her face and she nodded.
"Just, let me go to my mother's first, okay? i don't want to be here for it."
I told her okay, and helped her pack. It would take a few days to get prepared, so she needed enough to get through a week. We held each other for a while, and she kissed me, before heading out the door.
I got my things from where I'd hidden them. I never thought I'd have to use them again, but this would be helping so many people, I couldn't stand by and do nothing.
It took a while to get the feel for them again, but soon i was wearing the devices like they were old friends. It wouldn't be long till i got them working again, then a few days to power up. After that, I'd be able to do what I should have done months ago..."
I whined as my boss turned to exit my small office. He looked back over his shoulder.
"Sorry, Dan, but we don't really have the money to keep you right now. The cuts are hitting us all. My benefits have been suspended, and several of our managers are on unpaid leave. We're really just hemorrhaging money. The stock is in the toilet and we're just treading water right now. We can pay you through the end of the week, but after that, i don't know..."
He really was sorry for having to let me go, i could tell. Jim had always been a good guy, and i knew he wouldn't just be feeding me lies to cover his own ass.
"Okay. Maybe I can figure something out by then. Thanks, Jim."
I found out later that Jim had fought for me, to keep me there. He knew my skills, and if it hadn't been for him i would have been one of the first laid off. A few of my friends had already been put on leave indefinitely. I knew things were bad, but never really got it till i started looking at the numbers. I was always good with the numbers side of things, even though I'd been hired to do IT work. Maybe there was something I could do...
I kissed my wife Alison when i got home, and asked for her help. She wasn't great with the technical stuff, but she was creative and often saw new things I would miss with my clinicallity.
Jim had gotten me copies of the office's financial records, and they were as expected a mess.
I saw a few areas we could cut, a few minor details, but nothing that would really help the company as a whole. Sure, we had a few promising projects that would keep us afloat-if we could get them to the marketplace. I sighed and turned to Ally.
"I have to."
She knew exactly what i meant when i said it, and her eyes started to tear up.
"you swore you wouldn't. We've come so far from that. I know you care about this company and these people, but you ..."
The realization crossed over her face and she nodded.
"Just, let me go to my mother's first, okay? i don't want to be here for it."
I told her okay, and helped her pack. It would take a few days to get prepared, so she needed enough to get through a week. We held each other for a while, and she kissed me, before heading out the door.
I got my things from where I'd hidden them. I never thought I'd have to use them again, but this would be helping so many people, I couldn't stand by and do nothing.
It took a while to get the feel for them again, but soon i was wearing the devices like they were old friends. It wouldn't be long till i got them working again, then a few days to power up. After that, I'd be able to do what I should have done months ago..."
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Intoxicate
"I really can't help but drink" Adam whined into his glass as his friends once again slid him another cup of their special Moonshine.
"it's really hard when you're trying to get over comething not to try andintoxicate your cares into oblivion."
He downed the glass once again and tapped the cup on the bar.
"let';s get another one over here, i'm still alive."
He said slurring his words, before his eyes fluttered and he fell face first into the bar, then slid onto the floor with a sickening thump. his buddies laughed and nudged him with their feet before sighing and lifting his limp form into the safety of a nearby booth.
"Let's draw on him."
"What are we, five?"
"Come on, it'll be awesome!"
So, they got a few markers used to put up the signs on the bar's whiteboard and plied their artistic experience to draw all over the poor unconscious Adam.
Adam came to with a huge head of pain and a feeling in his gut that told him that the toilet was about to get fed like a baby bird. he ran into the bathroom and hwarked up the last bit of his last night's party.
A few hours later he was back down on his sofa, head adorned with a nice flowery towel full of ice. he'd not looked in the mirror so he was unaware of the amazing work of art that covered his face and neck.
A knock on his door woke him up just as the sun was going down, and he groggily got up to answer it. he winced as the last bit of sunlight burned into his retinas when the door opened and he could barely make out a figure in front of him.
"yeah?"
"Um..Mister...Taconti? "
the female voice sounded quite confused, and if he could see straight he would see a lovely young woman. She eyed the strange markings on his head and had to smile.
"I obviously have the right place. Here."
She held out a large envelope, much heavier than it should have been, and left. leaving Adam to squint, trying to get a good look at her. the only thing he could really make out was the way her hips moved, and a strange sort of part in her skirt. He shrugged and went inside.
He dropped the envelope on the kitchen table and poured himself a nice, non-alcoholic drink, foregoing any food for fear of his stomach's unending wrath once again visiting him. he downed the nice glass of lemonade and eyed the manilla intruder to his otherwise happy kitchen.
He grabbed it and tore thorough the paper as if it were...slightly weaker paper.
Inside was a small chalice, made of gold with gemstone inlay. Its weight made him pretty sure that it truly was gold, but who sent it? he checked the envelope for a return address.
There was no writing on it, not even his address, name, nothing. he turned it over and even checked the part he'd ripped off, but there was simply no indication from where it had come or who it came from. He sat the cup down and looked at it curiously.
"it's really hard when you're trying to get over comething not to try andintoxicate your cares into oblivion."
He downed the glass once again and tapped the cup on the bar.
"let';s get another one over here, i'm still alive."
He said slurring his words, before his eyes fluttered and he fell face first into the bar, then slid onto the floor with a sickening thump. his buddies laughed and nudged him with their feet before sighing and lifting his limp form into the safety of a nearby booth.
"Let's draw on him."
"What are we, five?"
"Come on, it'll be awesome!"
So, they got a few markers used to put up the signs on the bar's whiteboard and plied their artistic experience to draw all over the poor unconscious Adam.
Adam came to with a huge head of pain and a feeling in his gut that told him that the toilet was about to get fed like a baby bird. he ran into the bathroom and hwarked up the last bit of his last night's party.
A few hours later he was back down on his sofa, head adorned with a nice flowery towel full of ice. he'd not looked in the mirror so he was unaware of the amazing work of art that covered his face and neck.
A knock on his door woke him up just as the sun was going down, and he groggily got up to answer it. he winced as the last bit of sunlight burned into his retinas when the door opened and he could barely make out a figure in front of him.
"yeah?"
"Um..Mister...Taconti? "
the female voice sounded quite confused, and if he could see straight he would see a lovely young woman. She eyed the strange markings on his head and had to smile.
"I obviously have the right place. Here."
She held out a large envelope, much heavier than it should have been, and left. leaving Adam to squint, trying to get a good look at her. the only thing he could really make out was the way her hips moved, and a strange sort of part in her skirt. He shrugged and went inside.
He dropped the envelope on the kitchen table and poured himself a nice, non-alcoholic drink, foregoing any food for fear of his stomach's unending wrath once again visiting him. he downed the nice glass of lemonade and eyed the manilla intruder to his otherwise happy kitchen.
He grabbed it and tore thorough the paper as if it were...slightly weaker paper.
Inside was a small chalice, made of gold with gemstone inlay. Its weight made him pretty sure that it truly was gold, but who sent it? he checked the envelope for a return address.
There was no writing on it, not even his address, name, nothing. he turned it over and even checked the part he'd ripped off, but there was simply no indication from where it had come or who it came from. He sat the cup down and looked at it curiously.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Behavior
"Now children, do be on your best behavior. You know how your uncle gets when you don't act properly."
The three precocious children nodded and nudged each other. Mrs. Berrington knew that this was a fruitless pursuit, but she had to at least try. The most she could do now was damage control.
The last visit had ended in abject disaster, with several hospital visits and more than a few harsh words.
The children were now older, but still much too young to be expected to be perfect angels all the time, and the Barrington's annual visit from their esteemed uncle Weston was the one time a year they were even expected to try. Still, it was a fruitless effort that usually ended with uncle storming out in a huff and the family having to scrape by for another year on their meager earnings.
William, the youngest, was the best behaved. he was now only six, and was beginning to pick up his brother and sister's bad habits. He was still too small to cause any real damage, though.
Elise was the middle, and usually instigated most of the trouble. She was the mastermind between the boys, and her skills at cunning were legendary throughout the city. Thanks to her coaching, the name Barrington was top of the constable's watch list. She took a special kind of pride in it, and would giggle gleefully as the boys took their punishments.
Edgar, the eldest kept to himself until his sister planted ideas within his head, and being a bit dull, he would always follow along with her wishes. He was less than the sharpest knife, but he knew how to cause some damage when he put his lack of a mind to it.
So, the visit was scheduled, and soon, Uncle would be here. Elise was already prepared, and several traps had been set. Nothing truly injury inducing, but mostly embarrassing. they delighted in the senseless torment of visitors. Their parents had even learned early that even pets were out of the question.
A final glance of warning was the best Mrs. Barrington could muster as she sighed heavily and went to answer the doorbell.
"Uncle Weston! how wonderful to see you! Let me take your coat!"
She offered him a smile, too nervous for his liking.
"Where is that nephew of mine? Out gallivanting at the tavern again?"
The bespectacled walrus of a man entered, taking off his coat and tossing it unceremoniously to the pre-offered arm. He shifted his girth into a too-small chair which creaked as his weight pressed itself upon it, and let out a long, tobacco scented sigh.
"I don't know why I even bother coming into this rathole of a house anymore. You never impress me enough to merit my favor."
He let out a huff and took out an old pipe, tapping the burnt tobacco onto the floor, and refilling it from a pocket pouch, before lighting it and taking a long drag, exhaling the stale smelling smoke which quickly fouled the air.
"So, where are the kids?"
The three precocious children nodded and nudged each other. Mrs. Berrington knew that this was a fruitless pursuit, but she had to at least try. The most she could do now was damage control.
The last visit had ended in abject disaster, with several hospital visits and more than a few harsh words.
The children were now older, but still much too young to be expected to be perfect angels all the time, and the Barrington's annual visit from their esteemed uncle Weston was the one time a year they were even expected to try. Still, it was a fruitless effort that usually ended with uncle storming out in a huff and the family having to scrape by for another year on their meager earnings.
William, the youngest, was the best behaved. he was now only six, and was beginning to pick up his brother and sister's bad habits. He was still too small to cause any real damage, though.
Elise was the middle, and usually instigated most of the trouble. She was the mastermind between the boys, and her skills at cunning were legendary throughout the city. Thanks to her coaching, the name Barrington was top of the constable's watch list. She took a special kind of pride in it, and would giggle gleefully as the boys took their punishments.
Edgar, the eldest kept to himself until his sister planted ideas within his head, and being a bit dull, he would always follow along with her wishes. He was less than the sharpest knife, but he knew how to cause some damage when he put his lack of a mind to it.
So, the visit was scheduled, and soon, Uncle would be here. Elise was already prepared, and several traps had been set. Nothing truly injury inducing, but mostly embarrassing. they delighted in the senseless torment of visitors. Their parents had even learned early that even pets were out of the question.
A final glance of warning was the best Mrs. Barrington could muster as she sighed heavily and went to answer the doorbell.
"Uncle Weston! how wonderful to see you! Let me take your coat!"
She offered him a smile, too nervous for his liking.
"Where is that nephew of mine? Out gallivanting at the tavern again?"
The bespectacled walrus of a man entered, taking off his coat and tossing it unceremoniously to the pre-offered arm. He shifted his girth into a too-small chair which creaked as his weight pressed itself upon it, and let out a long, tobacco scented sigh.
"I don't know why I even bother coming into this rathole of a house anymore. You never impress me enough to merit my favor."
He let out a huff and took out an old pipe, tapping the burnt tobacco onto the floor, and refilling it from a pocket pouch, before lighting it and taking a long drag, exhaling the stale smelling smoke which quickly fouled the air.
"So, where are the kids?"
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Dire
"We need some cover here!"
The fatigued men huddled together under the makeshift bunker, an overturned tanker truck that still reeked of quickly evaporating gasoline.
"No shots, no fire, or we're all going up. We'll just have to hope that James can get the chopper working before those tings get too close. the gas should hide our scents, but not our trail. One of us needs to go out there and lure them away."
A suicide mission, and they all knew it. The six of them had survived this long by sticking together, but they'd seen friends go, and they weren't in any real shape to continue. The constant running had taken it's toll and they barely had the strength to walk anymore.
"We've got one does of the serum left. it should give whoever's running enough strength to get them at least a mile away from here. Hopefully by that time, the rain will have started and our trail will be covered."
Samuel, the youngest of them, knelt down and began to pray.
"Savior, let not those who have cause to harm us find the seclusion we have discovered, and let not the fumes overtake those too weak to move. Let the serum guide our strongest into safety and lead the aggressors to a land of their destruction."
It was a hasty prayer, but one they were grateful to hear-unlike the loud howl that marked the arrival of the beasts they'd avoided for so long.
"They're here. we don't have any time left."
Jacob grabbed the vial of serum and jammed the needle end into his arm, his face contorting in pain as the fluid coursed through his veins. He let out a soft grunt as his muscles formed and changed, extending his legs and arms, as fur started to cover the rest of his body. His nose and jaw extended, lengthening into a long muzzle as his eyes took on a more feral appearance. A shaggy gray tail the same color as his fur sprouted from the base of his back and he growled a low rumbling growl as the rest of his body adjusted to his new form and purpose. he shook, shaking off the remnants of clothing that had tattered themselves during his transformation. With one last longing look back at the men he'd grown to know so well, he turned and darted into the street, heading for the area where he'd heard the dire howls originate.
The others shuddered as they watched their friend turn and run, knowing the pain of the experience, especially now, when the moon was nowhere near full. They saw the tinge of fear in jacob's face as he looked back at them, knowing full well they'd never see him again.
He would be remembered, though, by the few who were left, as the one that lead, the one that saved their race from the End times. He was a legend, a legend born out of the worst kind of despair, and to these men, a savior. They knew not what the future would hold for them after today, but they at least knew they would have one.
The fatigued men huddled together under the makeshift bunker, an overturned tanker truck that still reeked of quickly evaporating gasoline.
"No shots, no fire, or we're all going up. We'll just have to hope that James can get the chopper working before those tings get too close. the gas should hide our scents, but not our trail. One of us needs to go out there and lure them away."
A suicide mission, and they all knew it. The six of them had survived this long by sticking together, but they'd seen friends go, and they weren't in any real shape to continue. The constant running had taken it's toll and they barely had the strength to walk anymore.
"We've got one does of the serum left. it should give whoever's running enough strength to get them at least a mile away from here. Hopefully by that time, the rain will have started and our trail will be covered."
Samuel, the youngest of them, knelt down and began to pray.
"Savior, let not those who have cause to harm us find the seclusion we have discovered, and let not the fumes overtake those too weak to move. Let the serum guide our strongest into safety and lead the aggressors to a land of their destruction."
It was a hasty prayer, but one they were grateful to hear-unlike the loud howl that marked the arrival of the beasts they'd avoided for so long.
"They're here. we don't have any time left."
Jacob grabbed the vial of serum and jammed the needle end into his arm, his face contorting in pain as the fluid coursed through his veins. He let out a soft grunt as his muscles formed and changed, extending his legs and arms, as fur started to cover the rest of his body. His nose and jaw extended, lengthening into a long muzzle as his eyes took on a more feral appearance. A shaggy gray tail the same color as his fur sprouted from the base of his back and he growled a low rumbling growl as the rest of his body adjusted to his new form and purpose. he shook, shaking off the remnants of clothing that had tattered themselves during his transformation. With one last longing look back at the men he'd grown to know so well, he turned and darted into the street, heading for the area where he'd heard the dire howls originate.
The others shuddered as they watched their friend turn and run, knowing the pain of the experience, especially now, when the moon was nowhere near full. They saw the tinge of fear in jacob's face as he looked back at them, knowing full well they'd never see him again.
He would be remembered, though, by the few who were left, as the one that lead, the one that saved their race from the End times. He was a legend, a legend born out of the worst kind of despair, and to these men, a savior. They knew not what the future would hold for them after today, but they at least knew they would have one.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Mixing
"try that, the red one"
Alex cringed as once again his mother stood over his shoulder, pointing out the faults with his newest project. The painting was coming along well, or so he though. He wasn't great yet, just a beginner, really, but he'd sold a few paintings and drawings so far, and thought that he might have a career at it if only he could get out of this house.
"You shouldn't be mixing those two colors..they clash."
"THAT'S THE POINT" Alex's head screamed at him in frustration, and he tried to block out the incessant nagging of his overbearing mother. He wished she'd just go away.
The doorbell rang about fifteen minutes later, much to the beleaguered boy's relief. Finally, he could get things done. He'd done as little as he could while she was in his studio so he wouldn't have to do much damage control. A few splashes of paint later and he was right back on track. his new piece was a work of art from concept. The unbridled love between all types humans can express, and in the center, the heartache of that love's destruction. It would be his first masterpiece. he was excited, and that excitement manifested in frantic energy. He worked, and painted, and fumed angry at his lack of inspiration, and found that inspiration in banal things, before finally looking at the canvas, and realizing that perhaps his reach exceeded his grasp. but no, he couldn't stop. he'd poured too much of himself into this and couldn't stop now. he was so close, so close.
His mother came in on him, his room stinking of effort.
"It's been five days, Alex, and i don't see anything you've done. now put the brush down and go take a shower. You stink"
Alex ignored her, putting touches here and there, and mumbling in his sleep-deprived mind.
"No, not that, not yet..here? maybe."
"ALEX! you listen to me right now!"
His mother reached out, and grabbed at his hand, her fingers finding his paint brush instead. She smirked and wrenched it from his hand, causing the crazed teen to look at her with a mad frenzy, and in a near overwhelming rage lunge for it. His mother laughed sadistically and held it out of his grasp, backing out of the room.
"You can have it back after you take a shower and clean this place up., Now do what i say."
Alex slumped his shoulders, feeling defeated, for just a second, before grabbing a nearby pallet and slamming it against his mother's scalp causing the woman to shriek and fall to the floor. Again and again, he brought the pallet down onto her, smashing her face, and head, silencing her cries and her disdain, her criticism for goo, until nothing but a bloody pulp remained on the floor of his studio. Blood spattered all over the walls and empty canvases. not even his masterpiece was spared, and he turned to it after picking his paint brush up out of his mothers cooling hand.
He stared blankly at the blood flowing through the paint, smearing the work he'd been so fervent about getting just right, and his hand released the brush.
"perfect.." he said, in a low, whispered tone.
Alex cringed as once again his mother stood over his shoulder, pointing out the faults with his newest project. The painting was coming along well, or so he though. He wasn't great yet, just a beginner, really, but he'd sold a few paintings and drawings so far, and thought that he might have a career at it if only he could get out of this house.
"You shouldn't be mixing those two colors..they clash."
"THAT'S THE POINT" Alex's head screamed at him in frustration, and he tried to block out the incessant nagging of his overbearing mother. He wished she'd just go away.
The doorbell rang about fifteen minutes later, much to the beleaguered boy's relief. Finally, he could get things done. He'd done as little as he could while she was in his studio so he wouldn't have to do much damage control. A few splashes of paint later and he was right back on track. his new piece was a work of art from concept. The unbridled love between all types humans can express, and in the center, the heartache of that love's destruction. It would be his first masterpiece. he was excited, and that excitement manifested in frantic energy. He worked, and painted, and fumed angry at his lack of inspiration, and found that inspiration in banal things, before finally looking at the canvas, and realizing that perhaps his reach exceeded his grasp. but no, he couldn't stop. he'd poured too much of himself into this and couldn't stop now. he was so close, so close.
His mother came in on him, his room stinking of effort.
"It's been five days, Alex, and i don't see anything you've done. now put the brush down and go take a shower. You stink"
Alex ignored her, putting touches here and there, and mumbling in his sleep-deprived mind.
"No, not that, not yet..here? maybe."
"ALEX! you listen to me right now!"
His mother reached out, and grabbed at his hand, her fingers finding his paint brush instead. She smirked and wrenched it from his hand, causing the crazed teen to look at her with a mad frenzy, and in a near overwhelming rage lunge for it. His mother laughed sadistically and held it out of his grasp, backing out of the room.
"You can have it back after you take a shower and clean this place up., Now do what i say."
Alex slumped his shoulders, feeling defeated, for just a second, before grabbing a nearby pallet and slamming it against his mother's scalp causing the woman to shriek and fall to the floor. Again and again, he brought the pallet down onto her, smashing her face, and head, silencing her cries and her disdain, her criticism for goo, until nothing but a bloody pulp remained on the floor of his studio. Blood spattered all over the walls and empty canvases. not even his masterpiece was spared, and he turned to it after picking his paint brush up out of his mothers cooling hand.
He stared blankly at the blood flowing through the paint, smearing the work he'd been so fervent about getting just right, and his hand released the brush.
"perfect.." he said, in a low, whispered tone.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Paradise
I could think of nothing better than to be with her. She was the grace and charm of the world to me and I couldn't believe that I'd been so blessed to find such a person.
I'd known her since the first week of college, and we'd never really spoken until nearly a year in. She was studying English-i learned that from a mutual friend, along with her name-Rita.
I asked a lot of questions and mary (our mutual friend) laughed at me and said that I should go talk to her.
It still took me several weeks to build up the courage to speak to this raven haired goddess, this slice of absolute paradise given form. She had everything that i wanted. She wasn't tall, but was tall enough, and her eyes were bright, and brown and whenever i looked at them i saw what i wanted for the rest of my life. her hair was short, cut into a cute pixie style, and her body, well, a polite man doesn't describe the thoughts out loud. But, I never truly looked at her with a lustful or lecherous desire, more of an admiration, for never had one so fully captivated my mind.
She also wore glasses, which was a big bonus for me. Her skin was a dark sienna, and smooth as the voice that slithered it's way out of her perfect lips.
She was sitting there, reading a book of philosophy and tapping a pencil against her teeth thoughtfully when i finally walked up to her. I sat across from her, and she looked up, causing her hair to playfully brush against her cheek. She looked quizzically at me and I smiled nervously.
"hello, Rita. How're things?"
her face remained unchanged as she put her book onto the table and took a sip of her tea. i could smell the spice in it as it mixed gently with her perfume which i could not place. I wish i wasn't so nervous and hoped she didn't notice, though i knew her to be very perceptive, so there wasn little chance of that. I nearly bolted, until she said, in that sultry, sensual voice.
"I wondered what was taking you so long to talk to me."
We started a hesitant conversation. She was all that i wasn't. She knew her life plan, her goals and dreams, and was doing everything it took to get to them, while i was just sort of cruising, waiting for that big break to come along, though, i knew in my heart that it would never drop into my lap. Then again, i didn't think she would either. I asked her out to coffee, and she said to make it tea, so we did. there was a little English restaurant a few blocks down and it was a nice day so we walked in the warm summer sun. I tried not to take too many furtive glances at her, but she noticed a few times and i turned my head quickly, which she seemed to think was cute.
I'd known her since the first week of college, and we'd never really spoken until nearly a year in. She was studying English-i learned that from a mutual friend, along with her name-Rita.
I asked a lot of questions and mary (our mutual friend) laughed at me and said that I should go talk to her.
It still took me several weeks to build up the courage to speak to this raven haired goddess, this slice of absolute paradise given form. She had everything that i wanted. She wasn't tall, but was tall enough, and her eyes were bright, and brown and whenever i looked at them i saw what i wanted for the rest of my life. her hair was short, cut into a cute pixie style, and her body, well, a polite man doesn't describe the thoughts out loud. But, I never truly looked at her with a lustful or lecherous desire, more of an admiration, for never had one so fully captivated my mind.
She also wore glasses, which was a big bonus for me. Her skin was a dark sienna, and smooth as the voice that slithered it's way out of her perfect lips.
She was sitting there, reading a book of philosophy and tapping a pencil against her teeth thoughtfully when i finally walked up to her. I sat across from her, and she looked up, causing her hair to playfully brush against her cheek. She looked quizzically at me and I smiled nervously.
"hello, Rita. How're things?"
her face remained unchanged as she put her book onto the table and took a sip of her tea. i could smell the spice in it as it mixed gently with her perfume which i could not place. I wish i wasn't so nervous and hoped she didn't notice, though i knew her to be very perceptive, so there wasn little chance of that. I nearly bolted, until she said, in that sultry, sensual voice.
"I wondered what was taking you so long to talk to me."
We started a hesitant conversation. She was all that i wasn't. She knew her life plan, her goals and dreams, and was doing everything it took to get to them, while i was just sort of cruising, waiting for that big break to come along, though, i knew in my heart that it would never drop into my lap. Then again, i didn't think she would either. I asked her out to coffee, and she said to make it tea, so we did. there was a little English restaurant a few blocks down and it was a nice day so we walked in the warm summer sun. I tried not to take too many furtive glances at her, but she noticed a few times and i turned my head quickly, which she seemed to think was cute.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Peculiar
"We're getting some strange readings from the probe, Captain. The scale's all over the place, and the energy fluxuations are not synching with any known signals we've received before"
Captain Johanson templed his fingers and looked ahead as the starscape rushed around the ship.
"Check them again. it may just be a system error."
No, the cargo was too precious to have anything peculiar happen now. The mission was the important thing. His crew was already nervous, being in an unexplored region of space, and this was making them all antsy. the ship was silent save the low hum of the computers and the whirr of the engines as they waited for the results.
"The same, Captain. I can't seem to get the meters recalibrated. I'm not getting any signs of interference though. it's like the computers just decided to kick things around randomly. I can't get a clear anything out of it."
This did little to strengthen morale.
"I can run them again, sir..." Ensign Barith offered, but the captain's distant stare answered for him.
"So, we're stuck out here, going full bore with no computers and no way of figuring out what's going on."
"Well, no sir. Only the scanning computer is offline. All the other systems seem to be working normally. We can stop any time, or slow down. i would advise doing this, at least till we figure out what's up with the Scanners."
Johanson nodded and the necessary commands were put in. the ship creaked and groaned for a moment,the strain of deceleration pulling at the metal of the travel-weary ship.
"Can we get a screen up, have a look around? make sure we weren't followed?"
"We'll do what we can, sir."
The technician nervously fiddled with the computers, and the large viewscreen slowly brightened into a fuzzy image. He eased forward a bit, and smacked the side with his fist, and the picture cleared. Surrnding the ship seemed to be hundreds of tiny objects, greens and browns and oranges, all ring-shaped disks that reflected the ambient light into various hues.
"So, what am I looking at?"
"Well, sir, as you know, this is an uncharted area, so we're not quite sure."
The disks were still. There was, as far as they could determine without instruments, totally immobile.
"Shall I take the probe out for a sample? They could prove useful or at least interesting while we wait to get the sensors back."
Captain Johanson stood up and walked to the screen.
"Do you see that?"
"What, sir?"
"Zoom in on that disk there."
The technician magnified the image. Sure enough, there were small scratches on one of the objects.
"Bring it in a little more, please."
The tech once again rotated the lens and focused on the scratches.
The captain's face went ghost white, and he hurried back to his chair. he barked orderes in a hoarse tone, as if his breath was strangled within his throat.
"We have to get out of here. NOW."
Captain Johanson templed his fingers and looked ahead as the starscape rushed around the ship.
"Check them again. it may just be a system error."
No, the cargo was too precious to have anything peculiar happen now. The mission was the important thing. His crew was already nervous, being in an unexplored region of space, and this was making them all antsy. the ship was silent save the low hum of the computers and the whirr of the engines as they waited for the results.
"The same, Captain. I can't seem to get the meters recalibrated. I'm not getting any signs of interference though. it's like the computers just decided to kick things around randomly. I can't get a clear anything out of it."
This did little to strengthen morale.
"I can run them again, sir..." Ensign Barith offered, but the captain's distant stare answered for him.
"So, we're stuck out here, going full bore with no computers and no way of figuring out what's going on."
"Well, no sir. Only the scanning computer is offline. All the other systems seem to be working normally. We can stop any time, or slow down. i would advise doing this, at least till we figure out what's up with the Scanners."
Johanson nodded and the necessary commands were put in. the ship creaked and groaned for a moment,the strain of deceleration pulling at the metal of the travel-weary ship.
"Can we get a screen up, have a look around? make sure we weren't followed?"
"We'll do what we can, sir."
The technician nervously fiddled with the computers, and the large viewscreen slowly brightened into a fuzzy image. He eased forward a bit, and smacked the side with his fist, and the picture cleared. Surrnding the ship seemed to be hundreds of tiny objects, greens and browns and oranges, all ring-shaped disks that reflected the ambient light into various hues.
"So, what am I looking at?"
"Well, sir, as you know, this is an uncharted area, so we're not quite sure."
The disks were still. There was, as far as they could determine without instruments, totally immobile.
"Shall I take the probe out for a sample? They could prove useful or at least interesting while we wait to get the sensors back."
Captain Johanson stood up and walked to the screen.
"Do you see that?"
"What, sir?"
"Zoom in on that disk there."
The technician magnified the image. Sure enough, there were small scratches on one of the objects.
"Bring it in a little more, please."
The tech once again rotated the lens and focused on the scratches.
The captain's face went ghost white, and he hurried back to his chair. he barked orderes in a hoarse tone, as if his breath was strangled within his throat.
"We have to get out of here. NOW."
Insulated
"...and the thin lining of fur keeps the whole jacket insulated!"
Anna looked over the boxes and bags containing her day's purchases and sighed. She really wanted this new jacket, but did she really want to have yet another bag to haul around? It WAS midsummer, and she really wouldn't need it until the fall at the earliest, but it was so cute, and on sale. She resigned herself, and nodded
"I'll take that one too."
The saleswoman happily took it to the register where it joined the rest of the shop's inhabitants that would be going home with Anna that day. After running the package-laden woman's well-used card, she helped her to find a spare finger on which to put the bag, then walked her to the store exit, babbling on about how it was always a pleasure to see her, and hopefully she'd be back very soon. Anna waved as best she could and made her way out of the mall, to the parking deck where her brand new sedan waited for her patiently. She stuffed it full of the booty from today's outing and got in, checking her professionally-done makeup before starting up and going home.
The bags and boxes joined the rest strewn about on her floor from previous shopping pillages and she slumped into her favorite chair, a gaudy gold affair from an estate sale two months ago. Indeed, her entire house had been recently furnished with nothing but the best pieces from all over the world. Her traveling had left her exhausted, and she was glad that her last week was spent just being at home.
restless again, she got up in a few minutes and ran herself a bath, nice and hot with bath beads and scented oils. She lit a few candles and disrobed, sinking into the near scalding, but very relaxing, water, and closed her eyes. the weight of the world faded away in the steam rising from it, and she was at last able to let go of her tension.
As she luxuriated in the tub's shallow depths, flashes of her past had started entering her mind. this always happened when she let her defenses down. Strange, unnatural feelings started creeping into her thoughts and she cringed. This was her world now, this life, these things. Not that cold, dark place she'd once found herself in. No, since she'd come here, things were different. She was actually happy, enjoying herself for once in her life. This infusion of life was just what she needed after too long being alone and afraid. She was safe here, secure, buffered from the rest of the world by the new life she'd made in so short a time. She let herself smile, a genuine, happy and tranquil gesture. This, yes, this was the life.
Her entire world was brought down in one swift instant, with the splintering of wood crashing into the bathroom, making her sit up with a start, only to see a leather-clad man, decked out in various totems and trinkets and pointing a rather impressive firearm in her direction. He turned his head and spat on the floor, before looking her in the eye with an evil grin on his face.
"Time to die, monster."
Anna looked over the boxes and bags containing her day's purchases and sighed. She really wanted this new jacket, but did she really want to have yet another bag to haul around? It WAS midsummer, and she really wouldn't need it until the fall at the earliest, but it was so cute, and on sale. She resigned herself, and nodded
"I'll take that one too."
The saleswoman happily took it to the register where it joined the rest of the shop's inhabitants that would be going home with Anna that day. After running the package-laden woman's well-used card, she helped her to find a spare finger on which to put the bag, then walked her to the store exit, babbling on about how it was always a pleasure to see her, and hopefully she'd be back very soon. Anna waved as best she could and made her way out of the mall, to the parking deck where her brand new sedan waited for her patiently. She stuffed it full of the booty from today's outing and got in, checking her professionally-done makeup before starting up and going home.
The bags and boxes joined the rest strewn about on her floor from previous shopping pillages and she slumped into her favorite chair, a gaudy gold affair from an estate sale two months ago. Indeed, her entire house had been recently furnished with nothing but the best pieces from all over the world. Her traveling had left her exhausted, and she was glad that her last week was spent just being at home.
restless again, she got up in a few minutes and ran herself a bath, nice and hot with bath beads and scented oils. She lit a few candles and disrobed, sinking into the near scalding, but very relaxing, water, and closed her eyes. the weight of the world faded away in the steam rising from it, and she was at last able to let go of her tension.
As she luxuriated in the tub's shallow depths, flashes of her past had started entering her mind. this always happened when she let her defenses down. Strange, unnatural feelings started creeping into her thoughts and she cringed. This was her world now, this life, these things. Not that cold, dark place she'd once found herself in. No, since she'd come here, things were different. She was actually happy, enjoying herself for once in her life. This infusion of life was just what she needed after too long being alone and afraid. She was safe here, secure, buffered from the rest of the world by the new life she'd made in so short a time. She let herself smile, a genuine, happy and tranquil gesture. This, yes, this was the life.
Her entire world was brought down in one swift instant, with the splintering of wood crashing into the bathroom, making her sit up with a start, only to see a leather-clad man, decked out in various totems and trinkets and pointing a rather impressive firearm in her direction. He turned his head and spat on the floor, before looking her in the eye with an evil grin on his face.
"Time to die, monster."
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Skip
Jacob felt that old familiar tug as he stood atop the cliff, looking down into the clean, cool waters. He wanted to jump, to just feel that rush as the water flowed, engulfing him in it's soothing embrace. Every year, he made the pilgrimage here, and every year, he'd forced himself to jump.
Jacob wasn't getting any younger, and his hair was already thinning. At thirty-nine, he was quickly approaching the age where he'd have to discard his childish things and finally think about settling down. He'd never been one to plan too far ahead, living in the moment-Except for this. Each year, one week before his birthday, he'd make his way down here, and learn once again what real living is.
The cares of his regular life seemed to fade away as the sea air brushed lovingly against his skin. This was what things were really about. the just pure freedom, that lack of anything but the ocean. No cars, no meetings, no have-to-be-theres...just the calm rush of the waters lapping longingly at the bottom. He sighed and closed his eyes, taking it all in. He took the time here to just reflect on the past year, of everything that he'd done or not done, chances taken, silly luck and heart wrenching tragedies. Thankfully, this year had been uneventful. no changes in job, no real improvements in his love life or goals, but, no setbacks either. No, it was a pretty average year. He found peace in this, but had that little gnawing sensation in the back of his mind that he was missing out. He'd had opportunities to do things, to really live, but he'd chosen to skip them or just shied away from the chances altogether. Those were the nagging sensations that always gripped him, even in this, his most tranquil day in this most pristine location. He tried to shake them from his mind, to just enjoy the moment, but they'd already sunk their claws in, and soon his mind reeled of all the things he had just given up out of routine. "No, that's okay, I'll go next time"s and "We'll get together later"s. that permeated his life, in more ways than he'd ever realized.
Jacob opened his eyes again and sat , dangling his feet over the edge. the breeze was still playful and tickled the bottom of his feet.He took a few breaths and tried to clear his mind again. Why were things bothering him today so badly? he'd never had a single thought up here except for pure freedom. Maybe the time had finally gotten to him, and the simple momentary reflection had brought the wave crashing back of all the things in his life left undone.
There were just a few hours left of daylight. Jacob had been sitting on the edge for nearly half the day, just staring into the ocean and sky, wondering where he was going. This place held no more peace for him. He'd ruined the one place he'd ever felt that things would never be complicated. the cliff wasn't a symbol of his pent up exuberance anymore, the one place he'd really just let himself go. Now, it was his regret. the waters no longer soothing, but tendrils reaching for him to pull him into the darkness.
As the sun set, Jacob gathered his things and headed home, wondering what exactly the next day would hold.
Jacob wasn't getting any younger, and his hair was already thinning. At thirty-nine, he was quickly approaching the age where he'd have to discard his childish things and finally think about settling down. He'd never been one to plan too far ahead, living in the moment-Except for this. Each year, one week before his birthday, he'd make his way down here, and learn once again what real living is.
The cares of his regular life seemed to fade away as the sea air brushed lovingly against his skin. This was what things were really about. the just pure freedom, that lack of anything but the ocean. No cars, no meetings, no have-to-be-theres...just the calm rush of the waters lapping longingly at the bottom. He sighed and closed his eyes, taking it all in. He took the time here to just reflect on the past year, of everything that he'd done or not done, chances taken, silly luck and heart wrenching tragedies. Thankfully, this year had been uneventful. no changes in job, no real improvements in his love life or goals, but, no setbacks either. No, it was a pretty average year. He found peace in this, but had that little gnawing sensation in the back of his mind that he was missing out. He'd had opportunities to do things, to really live, but he'd chosen to skip them or just shied away from the chances altogether. Those were the nagging sensations that always gripped him, even in this, his most tranquil day in this most pristine location. He tried to shake them from his mind, to just enjoy the moment, but they'd already sunk their claws in, and soon his mind reeled of all the things he had just given up out of routine. "No, that's okay, I'll go next time"s and "We'll get together later"s. that permeated his life, in more ways than he'd ever realized.
Jacob opened his eyes again and sat , dangling his feet over the edge. the breeze was still playful and tickled the bottom of his feet.He took a few breaths and tried to clear his mind again. Why were things bothering him today so badly? he'd never had a single thought up here except for pure freedom. Maybe the time had finally gotten to him, and the simple momentary reflection had brought the wave crashing back of all the things in his life left undone.
There were just a few hours left of daylight. Jacob had been sitting on the edge for nearly half the day, just staring into the ocean and sky, wondering where he was going. This place held no more peace for him. He'd ruined the one place he'd ever felt that things would never be complicated. the cliff wasn't a symbol of his pent up exuberance anymore, the one place he'd really just let himself go. Now, it was his regret. the waters no longer soothing, but tendrils reaching for him to pull him into the darkness.
As the sun set, Jacob gathered his things and headed home, wondering what exactly the next day would hold.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Bands
I'd heard some amazing bands in my day, but man, these guys were the shit. I've never felt the kind of rush I felt when these guys played.
I mean, damn bro, they like, totally shredded my brain. I can't even remember what all went on last night, i just know that i have to see them again.
They got some of the most loyal fans, and i can see what the deal is. i , like, cant even start to tell you what they sounded like. it changed my life, man...
This wasn't the first time I'd heard this about this band. I've been following them all over the world, and each show, the aftermath, was filled with people like this. It's not that the fans were loyal, and, oddly, nobody could explain what kind or the sound of music that they played, but everyone agreed that once you heard them, your life would change. I had no doubt of this.
They never sold albums, and you couldn't find their music online. There wasn't, to my knowledge, a single recording of them anywhere, not even bootlegs. I've offered, and tried to get some recordings of them to no avail. The devices always turn out faulty and never pick up a single note.
I've not been to one of their concerts, before tonight. i finally got a ticket, from someone who wasn't able to go. I'd lucked out when i went to visit them at the hospital, and found a ticket in their pocket. they wouldn't be needing it anymore. oh, they weren't dying, but the were going to be out for a few days. Still, often, something like that wouldn't even stop someone who has a ticket. I know of at least a few cases where people who'd been in worse shape still demanded to go. There was a pull about the music that couldn't be denied. And tonight, i would finally get to hear it.
I wasn't worried too much. More excited than anything, really. I wanted to see for myself what all the fuss was about, and finally I'd be able to go. Sadly, i was only able to get the one ticket,but still, I'd have a story I'm sure. If the music really was as good as i was told, then I'm sure the show was going to be something to remember.
I got ready early, knowing there's be traffic. I was one of the first people to arrive, hoping i could get a glimpse of the band, or , if extremely lucky, meet them. But, no such luck. they'd already been inside and setting up. I wasn't allowed in until ten minutes before the show, so I milled about with the rest of the fans. it was odd, though. they kept those who were newcomers away from those who'd already seen the show. I got around it though, and slid in with the vets. they didn't talk much, not as much as the excited new ones did. It was a little creepy, how they all just kind of stared at the door till they were herded in. they got seated first, and for some reason all their seats were towards the back. I guess the band wanted the newbies to get the best seats.
I mean, damn bro, they like, totally shredded my brain. I can't even remember what all went on last night, i just know that i have to see them again.
They got some of the most loyal fans, and i can see what the deal is. i , like, cant even start to tell you what they sounded like. it changed my life, man...
This wasn't the first time I'd heard this about this band. I've been following them all over the world, and each show, the aftermath, was filled with people like this. It's not that the fans were loyal, and, oddly, nobody could explain what kind or the sound of music that they played, but everyone agreed that once you heard them, your life would change. I had no doubt of this.
They never sold albums, and you couldn't find their music online. There wasn't, to my knowledge, a single recording of them anywhere, not even bootlegs. I've offered, and tried to get some recordings of them to no avail. The devices always turn out faulty and never pick up a single note.
I've not been to one of their concerts, before tonight. i finally got a ticket, from someone who wasn't able to go. I'd lucked out when i went to visit them at the hospital, and found a ticket in their pocket. they wouldn't be needing it anymore. oh, they weren't dying, but the were going to be out for a few days. Still, often, something like that wouldn't even stop someone who has a ticket. I know of at least a few cases where people who'd been in worse shape still demanded to go. There was a pull about the music that couldn't be denied. And tonight, i would finally get to hear it.
I wasn't worried too much. More excited than anything, really. I wanted to see for myself what all the fuss was about, and finally I'd be able to go. Sadly, i was only able to get the one ticket,but still, I'd have a story I'm sure. If the music really was as good as i was told, then I'm sure the show was going to be something to remember.
I got ready early, knowing there's be traffic. I was one of the first people to arrive, hoping i could get a glimpse of the band, or , if extremely lucky, meet them. But, no such luck. they'd already been inside and setting up. I wasn't allowed in until ten minutes before the show, so I milled about with the rest of the fans. it was odd, though. they kept those who were newcomers away from those who'd already seen the show. I got around it though, and slid in with the vets. they didn't talk much, not as much as the excited new ones did. It was a little creepy, how they all just kind of stared at the door till they were herded in. they got seated first, and for some reason all their seats were towards the back. I guess the band wanted the newbies to get the best seats.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Triskaidekaphobia
Thirteen. There were always thirteen.
James had been running his whole life, running from the Thirteen.
He knew he wasn't crazy, that it wasn't some insane case of Triskaidekaphobia, but something was truly on his trail. He'd seen them once or twice, lurking in the dark recesses of his world.
he was alone, in this world of his own design, a perfect virtual playground made just gor his specific whims, and yet, it had been infiltrated by them.
There wasn't any access point, or any way someone could have possibly gotten into his system, and yet, there they were.
The few times he'd tried to confront them,they'd scurried away like roaches in the instant kitchen light.He never rally saw what they looked like, but they didn't seem entirely human. ut, he was tired of the chase, and tonight he was ready to face them. he'd set up the intricate traps while he was sure they weren't around. No flitting shadows, no looming shades.
"I was supposed to be safe here" he thought as he placed the twisted metal of the makeshift snare into the corners of his apparent. Well, the virtual representation in any case. He'd been spending so much time here that it wasn't even considered a different area anymore. it was his life, and he was happy to remain there. If only he could get rid of them.
Why couldn't he just have some peace? Why did things have to plague him even here.
This world-HIS world. he had to make it better again. but those things kept coming to get him. There were thirteen, he was sure of it. he'd counted one night when they got more aggressive, and lashed and gnawed at his body as he slept. He woke up to see them, looking up at him like pleading children, the one and only time he'd seen them clearly enough to know that he wasn;t in fact losing his mind. the screeched pitifully at him and vanished, but he was sure of the number. he'd even tried sketching them in the waking world at one point, but could never get them quite right.
And what a waking world it was. All the problems, the expectations, the pain that plagued him every single day, pressing down on him until he nearly broke in two. So, he'd used what money he could save, shirking some of his responsibilities, but if his dream would be a reality...
He had finally achieved it, after long years of fending off the demons that plagued him, and that first day inside his new utopia had been the most wondrous of his life. Free from everything, the bills, the pain, the people always hounding him, just free.
But then they started coming, seeping in. He now had nowhere to escape. He'd seen therapists, even psychics to try and get those things out. he was sure they were just inside his head, but the last few times, they'd been so real, so threatening. he hoped the traps would catch them, and let him finally get some answers...
James had been running his whole life, running from the Thirteen.
He knew he wasn't crazy, that it wasn't some insane case of Triskaidekaphobia, but something was truly on his trail. He'd seen them once or twice, lurking in the dark recesses of his world.
he was alone, in this world of his own design, a perfect virtual playground made just gor his specific whims, and yet, it had been infiltrated by them.
There wasn't any access point, or any way someone could have possibly gotten into his system, and yet, there they were.
The few times he'd tried to confront them,they'd scurried away like roaches in the instant kitchen light.He never rally saw what they looked like, but they didn't seem entirely human. ut, he was tired of the chase, and tonight he was ready to face them. he'd set up the intricate traps while he was sure they weren't around. No flitting shadows, no looming shades.
"I was supposed to be safe here" he thought as he placed the twisted metal of the makeshift snare into the corners of his apparent. Well, the virtual representation in any case. He'd been spending so much time here that it wasn't even considered a different area anymore. it was his life, and he was happy to remain there. If only he could get rid of them.
Why couldn't he just have some peace? Why did things have to plague him even here.
This world-HIS world. he had to make it better again. but those things kept coming to get him. There were thirteen, he was sure of it. he'd counted one night when they got more aggressive, and lashed and gnawed at his body as he slept. He woke up to see them, looking up at him like pleading children, the one and only time he'd seen them clearly enough to know that he wasn;t in fact losing his mind. the screeched pitifully at him and vanished, but he was sure of the number. he'd even tried sketching them in the waking world at one point, but could never get them quite right.
And what a waking world it was. All the problems, the expectations, the pain that plagued him every single day, pressing down on him until he nearly broke in two. So, he'd used what money he could save, shirking some of his responsibilities, but if his dream would be a reality...
He had finally achieved it, after long years of fending off the demons that plagued him, and that first day inside his new utopia had been the most wondrous of his life. Free from everything, the bills, the pain, the people always hounding him, just free.
But then they started coming, seeping in. He now had nowhere to escape. He'd seen therapists, even psychics to try and get those things out. he was sure they were just inside his head, but the last few times, they'd been so real, so threatening. he hoped the traps would catch them, and let him finally get some answers...
Friday, April 1, 2011
Foreign
She had a long gait to her stride, a little shimmy in her hips that told me a lot of things in very little-but very intriguing- movements.
"You have some nerve asking me to come all the way out here."
She slid into the booth across from me, and with an unsmiling tone spat the words toward me in a thick foreign accent that i couldn't quite place.
"You better have good reasons."
I flicked the flint on my lighter and lit up a cigarette, eliciting several disdainful looks from those around me, but it was an outdoor cafe so they could just bite it. I flicked some ashes into the sad remains of my once proud burger and smirked, never making contact with those seductive eyes.
"I think I have something you might find interesting, some information about your precious dead husband's estate."
I reached into my coat and produced a manilla folder, one of the three I'd brought with me. The least damning goes first.
The envelope made a little shushing sound as i slid it over the table to her, as if asking the secrets it contained to be silent.
She didn't say much as her dainty fingernails undid the little metal catch and she slid out the three worn pieces of paper within. The edges flaked a little as she perused them with those eyes-those eyes-and i sipped the last of my melted ice from my soda.
"This can't be true. I refuse to believe it."
She threw the papers onto the table and stood up to leave.
"Hey, honey, i don't make up the stuff, i just bring it to the people that pay me."
I produced the second folder and tossed it onto the ground just behind her feet as she turned away. Should have dropped it a little ahead of her so i could get a glimpse of her well toned backside, but, eh, I'll be a gentleman today and settle for a look down her shirt as she bent over to retrieve it.
"What is this? More lies?"
I didn't reply, just sat back a little and waited for her reaction. I wasn't bringing out the big guns yet, but what I had in that one would surely get her to sit back down, and continue our conversation.
The way she slumped into her chair made me realize that the hook was in now. She looked at me in disbelief but realization slowly came over her face.
"It's true, isn't it? All those things that...no..i..it can't..."
Tears welled up in those eyes, but i didn't look up, still nursing the smoke from my cig.
"Hated for you to find out like this, but someone figured you needed to know."
I wasn't falling for this grieving widow show. I knew what kind of woman she was, and what she had really wanted from her husband. Oh, sure, people talked, pretty young thing with this fat old guy, this walking pustule but no, she was never after his money, or the fame the marriage brought her. Nobody knew her real intent, but me, and that had taken some heavy digging-sometimes literally.
She had a right to know, though, and that's what i called her here to do. tell her everything.
With a slow, steady hand, i slid her the third envelope...
"You have some nerve asking me to come all the way out here."
She slid into the booth across from me, and with an unsmiling tone spat the words toward me in a thick foreign accent that i couldn't quite place.
"You better have good reasons."
I flicked the flint on my lighter and lit up a cigarette, eliciting several disdainful looks from those around me, but it was an outdoor cafe so they could just bite it. I flicked some ashes into the sad remains of my once proud burger and smirked, never making contact with those seductive eyes.
"I think I have something you might find interesting, some information about your precious dead husband's estate."
I reached into my coat and produced a manilla folder, one of the three I'd brought with me. The least damning goes first.
The envelope made a little shushing sound as i slid it over the table to her, as if asking the secrets it contained to be silent.
She didn't say much as her dainty fingernails undid the little metal catch and she slid out the three worn pieces of paper within. The edges flaked a little as she perused them with those eyes-those eyes-and i sipped the last of my melted ice from my soda.
"This can't be true. I refuse to believe it."
She threw the papers onto the table and stood up to leave.
"Hey, honey, i don't make up the stuff, i just bring it to the people that pay me."
I produced the second folder and tossed it onto the ground just behind her feet as she turned away. Should have dropped it a little ahead of her so i could get a glimpse of her well toned backside, but, eh, I'll be a gentleman today and settle for a look down her shirt as she bent over to retrieve it.
"What is this? More lies?"
I didn't reply, just sat back a little and waited for her reaction. I wasn't bringing out the big guns yet, but what I had in that one would surely get her to sit back down, and continue our conversation.
The way she slumped into her chair made me realize that the hook was in now. She looked at me in disbelief but realization slowly came over her face.
"It's true, isn't it? All those things that...no..i..it can't..."
Tears welled up in those eyes, but i didn't look up, still nursing the smoke from my cig.
"Hated for you to find out like this, but someone figured you needed to know."
I wasn't falling for this grieving widow show. I knew what kind of woman she was, and what she had really wanted from her husband. Oh, sure, people talked, pretty young thing with this fat old guy, this walking pustule but no, she was never after his money, or the fame the marriage brought her. Nobody knew her real intent, but me, and that had taken some heavy digging-sometimes literally.
She had a right to know, though, and that's what i called her here to do. tell her everything.
With a slow, steady hand, i slid her the third envelope...
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)