I sat there in an old booth, staring out at the morning, drinking a cup of hot coffee. There was little traffic in the little city. The sun was shining outside and a cool breeze blew across the streets. I thought to myself, Sitting in a cafe for two hours isn't what I wanted to do today, especially if my time is running short. I stood up, walked to the bar for the third time that morning, and sat down, but this time instead of ordering coffee, I ordered a piece of cake and a juice. “Miss, can I get a piece of that cake over there,” I pointed to a cake in the corner under a glass dome, “and can I get some juice?”
“Sure.” was her sweet reply; the same response every time. I had come to this café many times before and every time the young lady seemed to avoid me and never said more than that one word. The times I had tried to make conversation with her, she wouldn’t say anything. She would just stare into my eyes with a horrible look in her eyes. I was usually the only man there, so I thought she might be afraid of me. That day the only other person there was an elderly woman in the corner reading the paper and that reminded me, I should have brought a book to read, while I waited. I’m always waiting.
I had come to meet someone but she seemed to have decided against coming. I would have left much earlier but I really didn’t want to miss her, even if she were late. The person had promised me an answer and I really wanted to hear it.
Three months ago, I had an abrupt feeling that I was going to die soon. This feeling gave me a revelation; if I could find out exactly what moment I was going to die than my life would be enhanced to it's fullest but for that my death had to be soon. So I searched for someone to tell me when I would die. I didn’t find anyone, so I stopped my search and later forgot about the whole idea. That is until yesterday, when I received a strange call from a woman claiming to have the answer. The conversation went like this:
I answered the phone. “Hello, Peter here!”
A woman replied in an obviously deepened voice, “Hello, um…I have some…I know something about you that I think you are looking to know as well.”
“Yes?” I questioned.
“I think you know what I’m talking about. If you meet me at the café on Lime Street at 8 AM tomorrow morning, we can talk.”
“Alright, but how did you -“, I was cut off by the repetitive beep of a dead phone. I quickly rushed to my desk to write down the time and place. I wondered how she knew.
Sitting at the bar I decided that after eating my piece of cake and drinking my juice that I was going to leave. It wasn’t worth spending a whole day sitting in a café, especially when the person was late.
The young lady brought me my cake and juice, along with a fork, and sat it all down on a red napkin. I took a bite of the cake; a good way to pass the time away. Getting some icing on my mustache, I picked up the napkin to remove it. As I did, I noticed that there was writing on the napkin. It said:
I hope knowing does what you think it will.
Five minutes; that’s your answer.
Use your time wisely.
I sat astonished, my mouth wide open. Five minutes! I screamed inside. That’s it! But...but... I just sat there in shock. When I awoke, I had only four minutes left, though I didn’t know it. If it was going to happen, why try to stop it. I would live my last minutes to the fullest. That was of course what I was hoping to do. I wonder what it will be like. I thought.
I called to the young lady, “Miss, could you come here?” I knew she had written the note and that she had been the one that had called me. She walked very slowly towards me. “Please, come quicker. Time is now something very real for me.” I said. She quickly walked right over to me. She stared into my eyes with fear and sorrow. I tried to comfort that look by saying, “It’s ok, I don’t blame you. I thank you.” She started to cry. I stood up and gave her a hug over the counter, and she embraced me back much tighter than I had her.
She looked up at me and said through tears, “You don’t understand.”
An impulse that only comes to a man living life to the fullest overwhelmed me. I looked into those eyes and had to do something. I kissed her. A kiss with the passion of someone trapped in a cage of knowledge. I stood back from her and sat down. She turned and ran into the back room, crying. I took another bite of my piece of cake. It tasted so wonderful. It was as if the cake wanted to taste better for me.
I finished the cake and drank a couple mouthfuls of my juice. It’s citric flavor filling my mind. I put on my coat and plopped on my hat. I walked towards the door, savoring the beauty of moving my feet. I stopped and placed my hand on the door handle. Slowly opening the door, I stepped outside, the cool breeze blowing in my face. Before I left, the young lady called out to me, “Peter!”
As I turned around she said, “You really don’t understand.” A gunshot rang out and the last thoughts running through my mind were, I wonder how the old woman reacted.
3 February 2006
Dawn had come and gone, the golden sun's heat caressing the blue sea at its horizon. The early riser revealed with it's light a shadow; the shadow of an empty city. The city had been brought up from the sands of time for solely one purpose and that purpose was even hidden from it's creator.
Far before dawn came, where time existed only as a stopping point, a man walked the streets of the golden city all alone. The road was misty and vision was not at its best. He wore chains around his feet and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't get them off. They slowed down his travel greatly and each time he took a step they sounded through the vast and empty streets.
He came to a corner and stopped. Finding the street signs he tried to read them but couldn't seem to. He leaned up against a lamp post and tried to regain his breath. Seconds later, he jerked his hand back when it started to shimmer and deform. Where he had put his hand the post had begun to melt and fold over.
He walked on, leaving the strange incident behind. His clothing was worn and torn in the knees, a sign that he had traveled a great distance. The face he wore was that of a lost dog looking for something special and sacred to him.
Over to his right, something flashed by. He turned. "Hello!" he screamed. “Come back! I need help!" he trailed off, "I'm...looking for someone." Thinking that he had just been imagining it, he walked the other way.
Where the flash seemed to disappear, a light began to grow. "Hello?" someone asked "Did someone say something?"
The man threw himself towards the new voice. The light grew brighter and a golden figure came into view, still blurry with the mist that seemed to alter everything's form. A woman dressed in gold suddenly broke through the mist, scaring the man. "Don't be frightened," she said, "I won't harm you." putting her hands out and shaking them in a correcting way, "What is your name?"
She didn't recognize him but he recognized her immediately. It was the person he had been searching for. It was his wife. "Manda it's me!" he cried out. "I've been searching for you!"
The woman’s face went through many emotions until it settled into utter joy. "Mac! Oh Mac!" She ran to him and jumped into his embrace. There they stood holding each other, neither saying a word. An awkward sight it was; a worn clothed man in chains holding a beautiful woman in gold. Emotion flowed out of both of them, both crying and saying how much they loved the other.
It seemed that they stood there forever. Time in the city wasn't that of reality but everything has to end eventually. A drop of water hit the ground next to the couple. In the silence it made the sound of a cresting wave. They both turned and looked at the wet spot. Suddenly light flooded over the near city wall and the sound of harsh waters came from behind it. "Oh, no!" the woman screamed. "Come with me."
She pulled him by the hand and they ran the opposite direction, away from the wall. The man looked back, tripping over his chains. The place where they had just stood moments before was flooded with water, splashing in through a crack in the wall. The wall toppled in and sunlight flooded through the opening. "This way!" she yelled. They turned right and into an alleyway.
They came to the end of it where it met another street. They turned left again, finding water flooding in and splashing behind them. The man tripped over his chains again, but this time he landed flat on his face and hands, scraping them open. He scrambled to his feet, only to find himself alone. Except for the sound of deadly waves and the light of the dawning sun, he was completely and utterly alone. He had been alone the whole time but only now did he allow himself to realize it. Crying tears of total sadness, he turned around, waiting for the collision with the oncoming water. A river of warm salt water ran down his cheeks and a flooding torrent of cold salt water hit him like a rock.
The man woke up lying on a beach. He looked like a shadow in the sand, which shimmered in the light of the dawning sun. He had been dreaming of holding his wife one last time, the strongest desire of his heart, but even in his dream, it was all made false. She would never really be with him again.
He had been awoken by water hitting his face. The tide had come to meet him during the night and it was starting to wash away his sand city. He had been there since the night before building it, a past time he and his wife had started. All at once, the city collapsed in on itself, with it's sand towers and sand light posts. All that was left was a pile of sand and the water that had destroyed it, flowing in and out, spreading the pile out. He got off the ground with tears streaming down his face. This was the second time that she had left him. "Why did you have to leave me?" he cried. Dusting off the sand from his clothes, he walked down the golden beach. For a minute he thought he saw a figure in gold running to meet him but it was only the sun playing games with him. No, he was alone; completely and utterly alone.
19 March 2006
Two figures stood in a courtyard furnished with statues and plants. One of the figures held a wooden staff in his hands, while the other had nothing in his hands and seemed to be trying to show it. The larger one took its staff and in one swift motion to the head, the smaller of the two figures was knocked down. “I’m tired of seeing your face, you waste!!” the larger one yelled.
“Please, Matt! Stop! Don’t! Please!” the smaller figure whimpered.
“Do you know what today is, Kyle?” Matt asked, once again hitting Kyle in the face with the blunt end of his staff. “Today is the day that I go to see the Shaman and you know what kind of advice I’m going to be asking for?” This time Matt kicked Kyle in the side with his steel plated boot. “I’m going to ask him if I should kill you.” he whispered.
The boy lying on the ground started to cry. What reason did I give my brother to hate me so much? he thought. Matt was standing directly over him now, waiting for another excuse to hit him. Kyle looked down at himself, his robe all bloodied. He looked up at his brother and his assailant, only a silhouette in the evening sun. A cool breeze was blowing, making his cuts sting.
Matt took both hands and started to spin his staff in a circle. “Got anything to say, boy?” he asked.
Staring into those cold and heartless eyes, Kyle replied, “Why do you hate me so much?” surprised he had said it out loud.
Matt stopped twirling his staff. Growling, he took it above his head and brought it down into Kyle’s stomach. Kyle screamed, spitting out blood. He tried to get away but was too dizzy to. Matt then answered his question, “Because, freak.” He brought the staff flying across Kyle’s face, leaving a gash mark seven inches long and a half an inch deep. The last blow knocked Kyle out and Matt thought that it was time to get ready. He walked away without a second thought.
After getting dressed, Matt went to the main hall and told the head master that he was leaving for the ruins. He set out with his staff, blood cleaned off, and wearing fresh clothes. He walked quickly, not daring to be late. The Shaman had agreed to talk separately with each of the boys from the outpost about their problems but wouldn’t speak with them if they were late. Also, the ever busy Shaman never stayed in the same parts of the ruins for too long, so, Matt still had to find him.
Matt arrived at the ruins right around dusk. He walked up the temple’s steps slowly, parts crumbling away as he went. Matt looked around for the Shaman’s tent but could only see broken walls and pillars. He wandered around, and after more light had faded, he saw a fire in the distance. He walked toward the light and found himself near the edge of the forest. The Shaman’s tent was three times as tall as Matt and probably just as wide. The flap was opened as if he was expected, revealing a fire ring in the center of the tent.
He walked up to the opening and was halted when a low, crisp voice said, “Stop there. What do you wish advice for?” The humanoid creature sat on his throne. He had four horns that stuck up through and down around his hood. His dog-like mouth and nose poked out of his hood’s shadow, and one of his hands, with sharp claws, clenched his staff with a blazing crystal fixed to the top.
“Sir…Sir, I” he stuttered, “I mean, I’m having a problem with someone. I’m tired of them and want them gone. What should I do?”
“What do you think you should do?” the creature asked calmly, not moving a muscle.
“I don’t know.” he answered, his head to the ground.
“What do you want to do?” the Shaman asked with an even lower, inquisitive voice.
Matt’s cold eyes shot upwards, head still bowed. “I want to kill him.”
“Why?” the Shaman asked angrily.
“Because I hate him.” Matt replied, squeezing his staff.
“Why? What is your reason?” it shouted, shaking in anger.
“Because!” Matt screamed. He looked down again. Whispering, he repeated himself, “Because.”
Matt suddenly turned around and walked out of the tent and away from the Shaman, stopping right outside. “Why do you care so much, anyway?” he screamed. He spun himself around, surprised to find his brother Kyle standing in front of him. The gash on his cheek was swollen and infected and scars and cuts lined the rest of his face.
“Because!” Kyle spit through a stream of tears.
“You followed me here!” Matt screamed.
“I wanted to know why you hate me so much but you have no reason, do you?” Kyle pleaded while crying.
Without thinking twice, Matt took his staff above his shoulder and swung. He hit Kyle in the temple. Kyle fell to the ground and blood flowed down a trail of tears. Not able to get up, he lie there in pain.
The Shaman stared at Matt. Matt raised his bloody staff and lunged toward the witness. Using the sharp end, he stabbed the creature in the chest. The Shaman, close to death, fell to his knees, gurgling blood. Matt jerked the staff out, killing him.
Matt stood over Kyle’s body, his staff on his shoulder, ready to serve the finishing blow. “It’s because everyone has always hated me, even the Shaman, but they have always loved you.” he said.
“But…but I love you.” Kyle replied. His eyes rolled backward and he died feeling alone and hated.
Matt’s eyes opened wide. Kyle was the only person that ever loved him and he killed him without reason. In tears, he picked up Kyle’s limp body and for the first time he embraced his brother.
4 April 2006
A man stood alone on the top of a mountain surrounded by darkness. He had taken on the steep climb in order to look down on the land below and to explore the white top of the mountain. He had never taken the time before to climb the mountain and what he saw now astonished him. So far above where he had come, he noticed how dark everything really was. Everything below him was black.
Black pools of deep water, deep holes of regret, bent-over and lightning struck trees, and hopelessly empty and broken down shelters scattered the landscape- all dark and all horrible. He was looking down onto his whole life but it all looked so different. Every place he had ever been and everything he had ever done was sprawled out before him, like the dead dog on the side of the road that everyone ignores.
Down there he would go from place to place only looking up occasionally. Every time he did look up he regretted doing so because when he did he would always see the mountain towering high above him so far away with its white peak. The climb was simple enough but it was the idea of going so far away from his comfortable place to somewhere so non-familiar and frightening.
He imagined himself back down there, working the ground and planting his crops. His small crops were mostly all he had in life. He looked down to the land he knew and tried to find where the fruits of his efforts and time were. As soon as he looked he saw them. The lines of fruit stretched out farther than he thought. The lines looked dark but they were probably made that way because of how far off they were. He loved to take that fresh harvest and bite down into it- the juice splattering out. The taste wouldn’t last long but it was good enough for him.
Thinking about his harvest reminded him of the fruit he had brought with him. He pulled it out of his pocket. As he did so, he noticed that his clothes were torn. They were bloodied and ripped in so many places but he hadn’t ever noticed that before. He shrugged his shoulders and brought the fruit up to his mouth but as he did so he noticed another thing that he hadn’t before. The fruit that he so fervently desired was a dark shade of purple, almost looking spoiled.
He furrowed his eye-brows but decided that it was nothing. He took a bite but it didn‘t taste the same. As he sloshed it back and forth in his mouth it became bitter. He took another bite to make sure that it wasn’t just a bad spot but it tasted just the same the second time. He spat it all out and threw the fruit. It landed on the mountain’s side a few hundred feet down and rolled the rest of the way.
Why is everything so different up here? he thought. He looked down at his hands, turning them over and over. They seemed paler…brighter. “It’s the light.” he whispered to himself. He looked up to the sky. Even the highest part of his world was dark. He looked down. The ground on which he stood was stark white. He bent down and picked up some dirt. As he lifted it up to around his chest he noticed how the light changed. The dirt radiated light. He let the breeze wisp the dirt out of his hand that had coincidently started to blow.
For the first time, he looked at his surroundings. The top of the mountain was as flat as the ground far below, but of course it was not the same dark color. It was white; as white as could be and definitely the whitest thing he had ever seen. He walked forward a few steps, the dirt kicking up around his feet. The wind blew harder than before and the white dirt flew into the air all around him. Suddenly the wind stopped.
Opening his eyes, for he had had closed them to protect them, he saw something that wasn’t there before. Twenty feet away there was a pool of clear blue water and in it there was a woman swimming in a gown. She turned around and looked at him. She called out, “I’ve been waiting for you to come.”
The man brought his hand to his chest as a sign of disbelief. Why would anyone so beautiful want to see him? She called out once more, but this time for him to come near. Afraid, he took his steps slowly.
The woman started to wave her hands, beckoning him towards her. “Come.” she called. It seemed like it took forever to get to the edge of the pool. “Child,” she said, “why do you live in such darkness? Make the leap and you will live a new life with me. We will live luxuriously together in paradise. Just look for yourself.”
He looked down expecting to see the same clear water that he had seen in the distance but that’s not what he saw. He saw blurry pictures full of white fruits, beautiful flowering trees and a wonderful white house with him and the woman enjoying the day together on its porch. Then the picture faded and became the blue water that he had expected before. He could see the water go down to its depths, where it got dark. “But it’s too deep.” he said, “I can’t swim that well.”
“If you jump and renew your life in the water I will take care of you, no matter what happens.” the woman replied.
“I can’t.” he whispered. He couldn’t risk what little he had in order to gain something so farfetched. He turned around and ran back to his comfortable, dark life and did not stop until he met the dirty black ground that he knew so well.
13 April 2006
Deep in a shadow cast corner of an alley a figure in armor sat watching. Despite the shadow, the armor gleamed and cast little shimmers of light onto the other parts of the alley: a large green dumpster, trash piles from years of littering and the filthy walls which created the alley. The figures eyes stood out the most, each like the pail reflection of the moon on the ocean. They were blood-shot from obvious lack of rest or terror. In this person’s case it was both.
Dean Enerick was a business man by trade and until five days ago he pursued that career. He had loved his job. Having no family to return to, he would stay as late as he felt like each night working. He was in love with his money. Five days ago Dean was working late as usual, studying some asset plans and checking repeatedly on his stock. From his desk he was able to see the whole floor and would notice anyone entering from any of the doors- he designed the place that way.
He had put one of the papers on assets close to his face to read it and when he put it down, there was a man sitting in front of him in the client seat. Startled, Dean jerked back in his chair, spilling his coffee on himself which he had been holding with the other hand. The steaming hot coffee was even more of a reason to be startled. He jumped out of his chair wiping at the liquid and doing a “I just spilt hot coffee all over me” sort of dance. After his little dance was done and the burning stopped, he calmly stood behind his desk and asked the man quickly and suspiciously, “Who are you and how did you get in here?”
The man replied, “My name is Gabriel and how I got here means nothing.” The man was in a blue business suit. His blonde, almost white hair was braided from four different spots but all ending in one braid. His eyes were bright green and relentlessly staring, standing out even more because of the paleness of his skin.
After realizing that the man was not going to explain what he was doing there, Dean bluntly asked him, “So…what do you want?” He was actually very afraid of the answer. Most people that sneak into a private floor in the middle of the night usually don’t have a pleasant reason.
“I’ve come to give you a message but I’m not sure that you are the man that I’m looking for.” He stopped, obviously in deep thought. He resumed with a command, “Show me your shoulder.”
Dean just stood there.
“Do it!” Gabriel commanded in an inhuman voice.
The power in the man’s voice had Dean’s shoulder bare in three seconds.
In a glance, Gabriel found what he was looking for. A three inch, red scar spanned his shoulder. Dean had gotten the scar from a dog when he was little.
“I don’t know what he sees in you.” Gabriel whispered to himself, but obviously loud enough to be heard by Dean. “The message is this: ‘You are forgiven and now shall be the greedless guard. Do not be afraid, for you are not alone in your coming battles. I have chosen many; each to their own sin. You are the most greedy man on earth and that is why you have been chosen, for the man who owes more is more thankful when the debt is forgiven.”
Gabriel then pointed to the wall behind Dean and said, “You’ll need that.”
Dean turned around and found a full armor hanging on his wall. He took down the helmet and looked at it. It was a greenish hue and in it’s reflection he could see that Gabriel was no longer there.
In the next five days, the unseen evils of the world emerged and became very real. They came to be known as Vamps or Vampires.
In that alley corner, sat Dean, waiting for them to come as they always did. Knowing he didn’t have long, he shut his eyes and said, “Forgiver, give me new strength.”
He heard the screech of a bloodthirsty Vamp come from the end of the alley. Memories of all the different ones he had defeated for the Forgiver ran through his mind. He was ready. With his eyes closed, he jumped out of his hiding spot and charged. He opened his eyes as he raised his sword but what he saw stopped him. It was the Lord Vampire standing twelve feet tall, with razor sharp talons, a tail seven feet long, fangs bigger than it’s head and the ability to breath fire.
“You are the last of the Guard. Are you going to run away like the rest did?” It said with a gurgling voice.
Dean’s instinct was to run away and try to survive. He knew that if he fought, he would die. His mind screamed Save yourself! but Dean stood his ground. He had been greedy all his life and was not about return to his sinful ways now. He had the chance to end the war.
The monster raised his head in attempt to scare Dean but as he leaned his head back down, ready to release his fiery breath, he felt the icy chill of metal go through his heart. Now, Dean ran, but he wasn’t fast enough…
Dean woke up still running away but now down the lain of a subway. Everything around him was very bright. There were people around him in the booths but something was very different about them. He could feel it. They were all dead. He sat down in a booth and looked out the window. All he could see were clouds and blue sky.
“Did you kill him?” a familiar voice asked from behind him. Dean turned to find Gabriel sitting in the adjacent booth.
“Yeah…I did.” he replied, smiling.
6 May 2006
The morning was silent and dawn was approaching in the east. The small town of Tara was quiet; not a usual thing. Usually everyone would be out of their homes and heading off to their fields to work, but not today. Today all of the woman of the town were in their homes with their children hiding and all of the men were lined atop or at the base of the walls that fortified their beloved town. In total, there were about one-hundred men atop the wall and fifty men at the base, each with a family hiding in a house they had built.
Every man brave enough to stand at the base of the wall carried a spear as well as a club, a bronze dagger, and a small wooden shield made for them. The men atop the wall were fitted the same except they carried slings instead of spears. Quite an expense was only made possible by the treasury the town had made for such an occasion. Nathiah os (from) Amani came up with the treasury. He had been in three battles previous and each time he had lost from the lack of weapons. Learning from his past experiences, Nathiah decided that his new town should be ready for the inevitable.
Nathiah stood in line just like his coworkers, friends and relatives. The large muscular man stood at the base of the wall in his short-robe with his spear in one hand and his club in the other. His shield was tied to his wrist and his dagger was tucked in his goatskin belt. Nathiah was determined that he would not loose this battle.
In the west, along with the coming dawn, was the sound of marching feet. The small town was at the base of a small mountain from which a river flowed a mile south. From the source it steadily turned north where it crossed in front of the town. All eyes, of those atop the wall, were on the rising sun. As the large golden disk rose, every attentive eye squinted in pain. The stunning light made all the shadows of night take flight while the sharp silhouettes of giant men made the hearts of the Tara men flee from them.
“Ima a mula!(Open the gates!)” someone shouted out. The large iron gate creaked as it was hoisted into the open position.
Nathiah’s tan skin glistened with sweat from the anticipation of battle. His mind was full of the giant men.. The Nephilim had come to claim the river and expand there already great territory. Nathiah hated them, for they were given such great strength and power and could use it for nothing better than their evil conquest. He was glad that he couldn’t see them from behind the wall because if he could have he wasn’t sure if would have been able to stay in line.
Five minutes later, Nathiah and his men still sat there waiting for the signal to attack. When the Nephilim were only thirty yards away from the river the call-man screamed, “Dia a ninamo!(Lower the drawbridge!)” , two rams horns were blown and all of the Tara men were set into action. One moment Nathiah was inside standing ready at the wall and the next he was through the gate, over the drawbridge and running towards his foes. He was running so much faster than his fellow men…then he realized that’s because they had stopped! Even though he was running alone and even though he was facing men three times as tall as he was, he was not afraid.
Nathiah pulled his arm back to throw but he was hit in the back of the head by something very small and piercing. The giants were being pummeled with stones but one of his fellow men had slung a stone too late. As his eyes rolled into the back of his head his face hit the dirt.
When he woke up, Nathiah was in a small room with very define colors. He looked around and found a Nephilim standing in front of a light in front of him. Everything was blurry.
“Nu ona asi si! (You will not kill me!)” , Nathiah screamed. He jumped up into a defensive stance and reached for his knife.
The Nephilim spoke in a different tongue but somehow Nathiah could understand what he was saying. He said, “I’m not a Nephilim. Look there,” he pointed to a window where an armed man sat looking through a scope, “that man intends on killing a man named John. He is the leader of a nation and he doesn’t deserve to die.” The glowing figure crossed his arms; a signal that he was done speaking.
Nathiah looked to the man in the window and then back at the glowing figure. He ran towards the man and swung, hitting him in the crook of his. He raised his fist to hit the unconscious man once more but the glowing one stopped him.
“Stop! Nothing more is necessary.”, he said. Nathiah straightened and looked back. He continued, “You have proven that you’re truly interested in what is right. When you return to your present, you must take your spear, stick it in the ground and strip of all your other weapons. You must cry out to the heavens that faith in what is right will win your war. Then the desire of your heart shall be granted. ”
Nathiah opened his eyes. He was still lying on the ground. He got up; nothing had changed. He did as the glowing one had said and when he finished crying out in his toungue, “Matina i a lebon na pove sis akana!”, the Nephilim before him looked up into the sky and were blinded by a great light. Some of them fell to their knees while others ran around in circles, running into each other.
“Dasasa.(Thank you.)”, he whispered. He turned around and walked back to his awestruck, cowardly comrades.
16 May 2006
One day ten years ago, three people were found dead on the streets of New York with no motive for suicide and no obvious way to accidentally fall. The next day, five thousand people around world from every nation, were found killed in their beds by other stabbing or suffocation, most showing no signs of struggle. The next day after that, millions came to the same ends, including the presidents from five different countries. Some called it a disease, others called it the Rapture, while yet others thought it was alien invasion.
I worked for a branch in the FBI that investigates claims in the paranormal. Anything that doesn't seem likely or sounds like a phenomena they send to us. A few months before the mass deaths, we were getting a lot of reports from the west about invisible objects and mass thievery. We sent three people out but they came back with nothing. When the three walked through the metal detectors at headquarters an extra person was trailing them with metal in a "pocket". When the alarms went off the invisible being jumped on one of the agents in a threatening stance. Realizing the situation, ten agents encircled the the hostage agent but didn't know where to shoot. They all called wildly to each other and eventually two agents approached with infrared cameras and non lethal pistols. They both aimed for the things shoulders. The being went down, takeing the agent with it. The thing was cuffed and chained to the wall of a padded room lined with infrared cameras, where it was interrogated . The only thing that we could get out was that its race was as old as ours and they wanted us gone. "There are more of you?" the interrogator had asked in surprise.
"Yessss." it had replied smiling. Then it leaned forward, as far as it could go, and threw its head backward against the wall. Fracturing its skull, it died instantly. We learned from the autopsy that it was human but it had very different skin. The skin had tiny biological light receptors that correspond to a chameleon scale on the opposite side. Its skin allowed the creature to appear invisible. It was impossible to think that their skin was able to disguise them so well but it did.
I was part of the team assembled to investigate them and I was sent to the history books. I searched for anything that had to do with invisible people but I couldn't find anything, so I concluded that they must have been around since before history. Which led me to where history began, in the middle east, where I am now. I had ten leads and nine of them were dead ends. I followed the last one to a home in Egypt...
"Come in here. Follow me great sir." said a humble guide I had hired, "The La-ah-wa-head is here. Come look." The name meant "The no one" and by his descriptions it was a half breed that he had caught in the outskirts of town.
I stooped down and followed him into the hut. He was pointing to one corner and laughing like a child, probably to impress me. In the corner, there was a naked figure the size of a child, curled up into a ball. On its feet I could see shackles. "Child," I said in Arabic, "sit up, so I may speak with you." It didn't move but I could tell it was still alive. "Zimohba, have you heard what language it speaks?"
Slowly the man replied, "I tink it said, ohne-naba when it woke. But I don't know those words."
"It sounds..." I didn't know, so I did the only thing I could. I shouted the words that Zimohba had heard. It looked up startled and for a moment we stared down at each other. I tilted my head towards it in greeting. It stood up and he- I realized- returned the gesture. It was breathtaking . The right half of his body was gone, yet he was standing with balance. "Amazing." I whispered.
"You spoke my words. How?" it asked.
"Because I want to learn about you." I said, knowing full well that it wasn't an answer to that question.
"I will teach you what you need to know." it said quickly.
"Really?" I asked surprised.
"We are called the Iminesharr and we have lived suppressed since the beginning of our two races. We are timid by nature, but not anymore. The dawn of the day after this, my race will destroy yours and all those we do not kill, we will enslave." It stopped speaking and stared at me with its one visible eye. Then it turned, invisible side towards me, so that I couldn't see it. I took out my cellphone and called for a pick up. Zimohba had left the room and I wasn't watching myself. Before I knew it, I was in the grasp of a half-visible being.
"That is unnecessary ." I squeaked from behind an imaginary fist. "I'll release you. Zimohba, break his chain!"
The guide came running in and did immediately as he was told. After being unshackled, the being did not leave but seemed to be thinking, with me still in his grasp. "I like you. You humbly offered me freedom, so I give you this." He brought his visible hand up to my forehead and using his fingernail, he painfully wrote something in his language, a scar I still have.
Today, ten years after my first Iminesharr introduction, I live alone in the white house. Even with a mark of amnesty, the streets aren't safe. Every once in a while I'll find someone who survived but every year, there's less and less.
16 June 2006
One thousand miles out from earth, a psychiatric facility was stationed, revolving around the sun with earth. It might be called a psychiatric facility for its tests on the minds of its inmates but it was more of a prison than anything.
ETERNITY WARD
INMATE 317-224 - MENTAL-FORCE MURDER, TREASON, PHSYCHOKENETIC MURDER, MENTAL-FORCE THEFT, ENERGY DESTRUCTION, RENEGADE CONSTRUCTS
HIGHLY DANGEROUS - MENTAL INHIBITOR, HAND RESTRAINTS, ENERGY FIELD IF POSSIBLE
MENTAL SURVEILLANCE REPORT
4.3.2083, 9:27...
Why?
4.3.2083, 13:09...
Hah. I got what I had always wished for: I don’t have to eat. They don’t even feed us through a tube. Maybe if I could taste the pure energy that my body is devouring, I might not care.
Na. Everything gets boring eventually.
4.3.2083, 14:52...
So this is what eternity’s like? This is it!
I wish I could see my wife. Just one last time…I can’t even see her face anymore. My eyes have been shut that long. I can’t feel anything because I haven’t moved for over ten years. I’m just stuck by multiple fields in this stupid standing position. I’m just…hanging around. Hah. Heeheehee. Ahaha…
4.3.2083, 15:12...
Oh..ahhaahaha…No, no. Stop yourself Desmund. You can’t go insane! You can’t. That’s just what they want you to do. Stop!
Desmund Allen was trapped in a cage made of energy but furthermore he was trapped inside his own mind. At the same time that this poor, tormented soul is on the verge of insanity, the small ship Junip docked with the so called facility. The ship’s occupants were a pilot and a passenger. The pilot was Marimun Ancesto, a very unimportant person, but the passenger was Janus Taff, the very important politician and lawyer. Janus jumped out as soon as the door opened and walked to the elevator. Marimun started to get out as well but Janus, now in the elevator, pointed at him and quickly said, “Marimun, you will stay in there in case I need to leave qui-” He was cut off by the elevator doors shutting. Marimun resentfully turned around, wishing he could get out and find a descent sized restroom.
The elevator doors opened and standing in front of Janus was the head of the facility, a man referred to as the Sergeant. Neither bodies moved until Janus stuttered out, “I’m to be shown to…” he stopped and looked down at a piece of paper in his hand, “Inmate 317-224, Desmund Allen.”
The Sergeant smiled wide like it was a joke and replied, “We don’t use names, Mr. Taff, but I do recognize the number.” He chuckled. “Show me your authorities. I think you must be mistaken.”
Mr. Taff handed the Sergeant a small chip in the shape of a small, black ball. The Sergeant took it and inserted it into a device resembling a wristwatch. The device started to shutter and then displayed a series of pages full of type. In short, it explained in full detail all of Desmund’s crimes and also, on the fifth page, his sentencing. When the Sergeant got to this page, he stopped and started to read slower- he had been skimming. The sentencing was much different than he had expected.
Inmate 317-224 was currently in a special program called the Eternity Ward where all of the inmates were told that they would never be allowed to die and that they would never leave. They literally had until the day of Armageddon to think…and think. But what the Sergeant was reading infuriated him. It said that this same inmate’s sentence was only ten years in extreme confinement in order to rethink his actions.
“None of this was ever on the papers before.” the Sergeant growled, red from fury. “It had never mentioned ten years. Why wasn’t it on the papers?!” he screamed.
Janus jumped when he screamed and was now standing perfectly still. “Well, sir I don’t know. I’ve just been sent to get him.” he said.
The Sergeant stared for a minute more and then taking a deep breath, he turned around and headed to the Eternity Ward.
After taking multiple turns they finally arrived at the Eternity Ward. The Sergeant opened the door and motioned Janus inside. What Janus saw as he stepped in amazed him. There were two rows of six hanging…bags it seemed like. The bags shimmered and moved in an almost icy way. The Sergeant’s voice came from behind him, “We can’t let him go you know. I’d never be able to put a knew convict in here. If I let one go, it wouldn’t be the Eternity Ward anymore, now would it? And even though it is improving our understanding of the mind everyday, this ward is considered inhumane. I suppose since there is only one sane inmate in here it should be considered cruel but I can‘t let anyone know that, now can I?”
Janus was still gawking at the beauty of the bags when something cold and hard slipped over his head. It was a mental inhibitor and even though Janus was an angel child (someone that never learned of their mental potential) it still worked the same. He was now shut off from his body and everything he ever knew.
Janus fell to the ground and the Sergeant leaned over to peer at the monitor atop the inhibitor. It was displaying: Why did you turn of the lights? Where are my arms and… What’s happening! Help! Help! Heeeelp!
“Well, he won’t last long,” the Sergeant laughed. He walked backwards out of the room and started towards the guard station where he would arrange the pilot to add yet another member to the big Eternity family. After that, he would move onto staging the “accidental” crash landing of the Junip, apparently on its way home with three passengers. I really hope that none of the minds of the Mental Police are reaching this far tonight, he thought smiling his big smile.
10 July 2006
The creature, called Mandrana by the common people, most similar in form to a mermaid, made its way through the dark depths of the Pacific. Mandrana was mindlessly swimming onward, always in search of something, but what, she did not know. She did not remember nor did she think. She lived by amphibious instinct and so she swam on and on.
As she swam, something above her caught her eye. She warily made her way towards where she thought she had seen it, circling upwards as to maybe confuse or scare it if it was a fish. She didn’t sense anything in the water but she knew from experience that it could be a waiting angler-fish, which she knew were not good friends. She smoothly paddled the water with her central fin and webbed appendages, straining to listen and not to be heard. She started to hear and simultaneously feel a low hum in the water. She stopped, ready to flee at any moment. For the longest time she stayed there, the sound unchanging.
Something started moving up and ahead. At first, she couldn‘t tell what sense she was using but she soon realized that it was her eyes noticing the light changing. Where she had seen the glimmer of light, all the darkness of the water was being sucked away and becoming clearer. Soon all the water around her was crystal clear, glowing with the light of the sun. Her spirit seemed to rise and she became ecstatic. She knew that she had found what she had been looking for.
She flew through the water towards where the darkness was disappearing. Her fearsome smile was cruelly halted as a pain shot through her body from head to fin. She was slowly sinking when she came-to, but the twitching action she produced stopped her descent and allowed her to see upwards. She looked forward, searching for what had hit her, and found a large wall made out of stone, that stretched up to where the water met air, a place she hadn’t visited since she frightened the two dry fish, floating in a shell.
She followed the wall upwards towards the growing light and she wasn’t afraid anymore. She was excited. Bursting out of the water, she shrieked in happiness and surprise, for what used to feel like coming out of slime felt like emerging from a refreshing cool bath. The breeze was freeing and the sun was bright. She shaded her eyes with her second layer of lid and swam along the wall. She soon found herself rubbing her belly against sand and playing with the tiny fishes of the corral.
When she was tired of playing she surfaced and climbed up on a rock. What she saw jolted the back, most dormant parts of her mind. It was a city of gleaming towers and flowing sky traffic. She saw people moving, people buying and people just living. She looked down at her hands which she was leaning on and shrieked. It came out like a long exaggerated breathe. What happened to me?! she thought. Memories of a life she had long forgotten from childhood to adulthood, flooded her mind all at once and she cried out in physical pain. She remembered her last day as a human, hugging her fiancé goodbye and taking a cab to the docks. The geneticist’s of GenToLabs were taking a ship to the states and they were taking all their work on board which they were going to reveal at the Leading Genetics Conference. Mandrana—no—Mandra was transported through time to her last moments as a human…
Mandra Sonyu peered out at the sea. It splashed against the side of the ship as they cut through it at terrifying speeds. She was thinking of her oldest dream. Since she was a little girl she had dreamed of being a beautiful mermaid, never having to worry about the world’s harsh demands again. Now she changed her dream to include getting away from the demands of a young, female Japanese geneticist. She laughed at herself - a small denouncing laugh. In a moment equal to the brevity of her laugh, she was violently thrown into the ocean, followed by debris and licks of flame. Mandra layed under the water, shocked, staring up at the orange light. Small projectiles started to flit through the wall of water above her. She felt three horrible and deep pains in her chest all at once, knocking the breathe out of her, and sending her deeper into the ocean. She was paralyzed and could do nothing to stop her slow descent. She watched as the flaming ship above her got smaller and dimmer. The three pains in her chest disappeared one by one.
For the longest time she fell. When the shock subsided, she realized how long she must have been falling, and that she must have been dead. When Mandra hit bottom she lay down and rested. She thought about what she was supposed to do now that she was dead and then she dreamed. Over the years that must have passed, she walked the ocean floor and explored the depths of the oceans; she met new creatures and as her mind and memory fled her, she became more and more like the dream of her past.
Now that her memory had flooded back, she was able to put the pieces together correctly. She had never been dead. In the explosion, the self-injecting needles were scattered around the boat and into the water. She was hit with a triple dose of the amphibious alterations allowing her to breathe immediately. A mermaid is just what she had become. The Mandrana dove back into the water and away from the filtering beach wall with it's unnaccepting civilization. As she swam into the deepest, darkest depths, her memories faded with the light. The question, swimming through her mind, as the darkness enclosed her was, How many times must I remember?
27 July 2006
Everyone at the party was quiet now and all eyes were on me, sitting in the chair at the head of the table. A few of my friends were obviously out of the loop and looked around at all of my guest’s quiet stares. My next gift was going to be something big and I knew it, it was obvious.
My Gram came from behind me and smiling, handed me her gift. It was box shaped with pulser thread as ribbon, which flowing form tickled my hand and a bow made of paper-clips slideshowing pictures of my grandparents and I when I was younger. She handed me a card, I put the gift on the table and took it from her. An odd silence ensued. I stared back at all the people, some whom I didn’t even know, and I could see the anticipation through there face. I opened the card and read the cursive halo-text aloud:
Hamen,
You’ve always had such an imagination and have always loved writing. (I started to get really excited here.)We wanted to encourage those qualities. We hope you have some amazing adventures.
Happy 16th!
Gram & Grandpa
Pst, We had lots of help getting this for you.
Looking up from the card I had a lip-ripping grin on my face. I knew what it was. I took the paper-clip bow, placed it on my card and ripped off the paper, the pulser thread wrapping around my hand and tickling it. A bright light glowed and then subsided. Under the glow-disk and the shaper there was a notebook and a pen. I reached out but to my surprise the shaper was still on and my hands hit air.
“How do you turn it off?” They all turned off differently.
“Oh, you uh,” Grandpa reached around me and putting his hand right above the shaper, “reach straight down and,” ‘click’, “you switch it off.”
“Thanks.”
As soon as he moved, I reached out, swept the shaper and the glow-disk off, picked up the notebook and pen and tried to think of what I was going to write first.
* * *
The day after the party, I was at my bus stop waiting alone. I had told everyone good bye after the party, it would have been be too hard to say good bye at the bus station. My girlfriend, Amoné, whined but I told her that it was best, she‘d probably try and get on the bus with me. There was an opening at the Lunar University (or Luniversity) and I qualified and enrolled. The elite professors taught there. The elite only accepted the elite so when you’re asked—more so told to go—you go. Besides, I could come home every two months and see everyone.
The station was very quiet. No one was waiting at either of the other two stops; there were three in a row, all for different routes. I took my notebook with the pen in the ring, out of my bag and sat it on my lap. I looked around to make sure no one was around. I didn’t really know what it did. That’s how they get you to buy it and you can be charged saying almost anything about it. For all I knew it was just what it was, a notebook and a pen. That’s what I made myself think. If expected nothing than I couldn’t be disappointed.
I used the pen to write my name on the cover and then opened to the first page of lined paper. As a long time writer I always had an idea, but nothing seemed to be coming to me. I thought of my fascination in dragons and then about knights in armor. These thoughts turned into thoughts of war. I thought about kingdoms and kings, warriors, and magic. I thought about flying, then about driving. I thought about falling, and other nightmares of mine. Then I thought about my dreams and that’s when I started to write in my messy hand:
Early in the morning a boy is sitting watching the sunrise. The pale light reflects off of the silent ocean. The water is so clear and so unmoving, as if it is waiting too. The trees behind him are silent even in the breeze. The only sound is that of the sand whispering and rolling with the wind. The sun’s first ray meets the horizon and bounces over, skipping on the water. It straitens and when the sun is to it’s full height something happens—
Something was happening to the top of the notebook. A small light was growing. The light grew brighter and something tentacle like, blue and white, started to creep up out of it. It made it’s way up towards my face (I was leaning over the paper) and split at the same time. Before I had time to react it jumped at my eyes and seemed to go right into them. I blinked and rubbed my eyes but nothing happened. I looked around. Nothing was different. “I thought as much.” I said as I continued writing:
The boy can start to see a silhouette against the sun. It’s running and dancing on the ray of light, coming toward him. The golden beam reaches out and meets the shore—
A new sound made me look up. I could hear something small, whispering…from below me. I looked down. What used to be ground was now sand. As I looked down, a red glow came from in front of me. I looked up and found myself looking at a slowly rising sun, bus stop no longer. Its light was drawing nearer reflecting off of what I knew already was water. I looked down at my new clothes: a blue tunic and sand-brown pants. I also saw the bench which at that very moment vanished from under me. I landed on the beach and continued to watch Amoné dance down the sun ray. Laughter caught my ear. On my right all my nephews, nieces and cousins were all glowing and playing together. More laughter. On my left and behind me were the rest of my golden colored family, occasionally turning my way and smiling.
I looked back to Amoné. She was much closer than I expected, not ten feet away. She had made a final twist, her silk dress twirling around her gracefully, and was now walking towards me. She stopped in front of me and got on her knees. She leaned over and kissed my cheek, the cheek of the little boy I had become. Her eyes were golden brown and her smile drawing. "I love you Hamen," she said.
I moved to reply but nothing came out. Her image faded to the left like it was being blown by the wind; everything did. A big booming sound drummed inside my head. “BOY…BOY… Boy, get up.”
The image of a man with dark face came to view. He was wearing a blue suit. “Let’s go boy!” he said. I jumped up and grabbed my things.
“Sorry.” I said as I passed him and got on the bus.
“You’re lucky I felt sorry for you, boy. This bus comes but every two months and I ain’t supposed to get off,” he said loud enough for me to hear at the same time he shook his head, “You shouldn’t use those things in public.”
I sat in a seat and watched as we left the station. I thought about what I had seen and I thought about what I was doing now. I could have made anything happen, any adventure unfold, and the people I loved was all I could think about. I was going to Lunar University and the people I loved was all I could think about.
Already high above the earth, I looked out the window to the west. The golden sun was setting. I felt my cheek. It was still moist.
14 August 2006
24 September 2006
4 November 2006
30 January 2007
I opened the sliding door, threw my junk in, closed the door and got in the passenger seat. “How was football?” my mother asked.
“Exhausting,” I mumbled. I don’t think she understood the word I said but she definitely understood the answer because she didn’t ask anymore questions the entire way home.
I laid my head back and closed my eyes; my body was shutting down. My mother would usually listen to the radio during the thirty minutes it took to get to our house—we lived way out in the country—but today she didn’t; she probably wanted to let me sleep, even though I wasn’t and wouldn’t, though it was tempting on such a smooth ride.
All these things and other random topics passed through my active mind as we traveled, and eventually my mind returned to a state of bodily sense. I realized that I hadn’t moved since I got in the car. I thought that was interesting and wondered exactly how long I could do that.
Twenty minutes later, I still hadn’t moved a muscle, and some funny things started to happen. First there came a feeling of tiny pricks all over my body that itched, and then I heard voices of all the people I had heard throughout the day, all sounding so real. After the voices faded away, I felt very heavy and dizzy. Then the chair beneath me began to move with a rippling effect. That freaked me out and I tried to move, but when I did, nothing happened. I then felt a lot lighter and strangely disconnected. And that’s when I fell out.
I lay on the pavement staring up at a red and rippling sky. I sat up dizzily to see my ride drive away. My mind played twenty questions with itself as I stood up. I felt so light.
As soon as I had balanced myself, something began to ring. It was the dinging sound of the bells at a train crossing but muffled as if played through a funnel backwards. I looked down at my feet—I felt so strange, like I was in a dream—to see tracks. I tilted my head to the side and looked up to the right to see a train coming right at me. Ahhhh! my scream echoed around me. The next moment everything was dark and I had the feeling of constantly loosing my breath and/or life.
This feeling continued and the darkness became scattered with spurts of light. I opened my eyes and realized what the feeling was; I had a train going through me. I gaped in astonishment. I also realized that I wasn’t on the ground anymore; I was flying. With this realization, I shot up like a bullet; I had been waiting for this my whole life.
After flying around for a while, enjoying myself, I flew home. From the sky I could see the van in the driveway and my mom working in the yard. I glided down to the van and looked into the window where I thought I would see myself sleeping peacefully, but I wasn’t there. Oh, great! I said. I’m dead. I soared over to where my mother was working. Mom! Mom! I waved my translucent hand in front of her face; she couldn’t see me and she didn’t even look sad that I was gone. I stood up. She hates me, I thought.
“Hey, mom!” someone with my voice said from behind me. I turned around to see myself walking down the steps carrying a pot in hand. “Hey, mom. Where’s this go?” the other me asked, holding up the pot.
I was shocked; I thought, If that’s me, who am I? I stood there standing stiff until I—the other me—went inside. So, what am I…whoever I am, supposed to do? I thought after a while.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so lost, someone scoffed behind me. I turned around to see who was talking to my mother. It was a man about ten years older than myself, but he was staring right at me. I must have given him a strange look because he pointed right at me and said, Yeah, I’m talking to you. Just to make sure, I looked behind me. Seeing there was no one there, I flew over to where he sat in my favorite tree. I can remember sitting in that tree like it was yesterday, the orange tint waving like water all around, the eerie breeze, and the warm, sweet smell it carried. The man wore a three piece suit with no shoes and his hair, which didn’t fit the same profile, was up in a nappy tail.
My name’s Oenjius, he said, putting out his hand. I took it and introduced myself. So what brings you to Dry County? he asked as if he’d done it a million times before.
What? I replied, in that same dull, echoing voice.
That’s the code-name for it; Dry County, he said.
The code-name for what? I asked, totally confused.
Oenjius told me that I was in the real middle-earth where anyone who fell or dropped out, fell or dropped to. He then proceeded to explain to me that I had been replaced.
Replac-
Yeah, you‘ve been replaced, Oenjius interrupted. Her name is—was Jackson.
Her? My body’s been taken over by a girl?! I said disgusted.
Weird, huh.
Our conversations led us to talk about him, and I learned that he was also fallen but he had done so a much longer time ago and from a much higher place. Oenjius had been helping Jackson before she had found a host. He then decided to help me. When the sun was making its last watery marks on the horizon, he and I headed east through the clouds. He wanted to introduce me to some other travelers that were meeting tonight on top of the white-house; the wine pressers of Dry County as he described them.
References:
Dry County by Bon Jovi—Stanza 1
Across the border they turn
Water into wine
Some say its the devils blood
They're squeezing from the vine
Some say its a savior
In these hard and desperate times
For me it helps me to forget
That were just born to die
30 March 2007