Meanwhile… #6

Why did these Earthlings prove so difficult?

This was the only thing on the mind of Zil Pralier, better known to the people he was investigating as The Star Champion. He had dropped the criminal he’d suspected of being a former test subject for his science team.

Zil Pralier was no man, as Pete Mackreely, or any of the other people of New Plymouth had suspected. He was an alien creature brought to Earth in search of test subject who had escaped the science vessel which he served on. Zil Pralier was a creature known as a Doilidion.

The Doil people were once in the same position as the planet Earth. They built massive cities to house all their forms of commerce and vice. They desired nothing more than to build bigger cities for a time. Then when they had built all they could, the wars began. Incredible wars over absolutely nothing. Armies were massed easily by informing the people of the Doil home world that commerce and vice were no longer important. The only thing that mattered was a massive death toll.

The wars caused factions to form. Four factions fought over nothing for generations, but that to came to an end. It came to an end when there were only twelve Doilidion’s left in the universe. They were three to each remaining faction.

They agreed to end the pointless warring and decided to work on developing a new society. One built on knowledge, peace, and understanding. They set about constructing a space vessel, to venture beyond the realm they had ruined over the countless generations.

Zil had been one of those few remaining Doilidions. They decided the first thing they needed to do to begin their new society was to learn a way to replicate their own life. Doilidion’s do not procreate. Before they ruined their home planet with pointless cities, they were born from the translucent pools of liquid that seemed to bubble forth from the planet’s core. When they built their endless cities, the pools of life were lost to them.

The Doilidion’s traveled across the stars in search of a new way to create life. Using their natural abilities of flight, camouflage, and strength, they were able to view many different creatures spread across many different planets. They found nothing advanced beyond the ability to hunt and forage, until they stumbled upon the planet Earth.

Meanwhile… #5

They were a good fifteen feet off the ground when the Star Champion stopped to eye the mugger he had captured. He held him by the front of his jacket and pulled him very close, analyzing the criminal with his blood red eyes.

From Pete Mackreely’s perspective, he saw a man in a skin tight suit the color of the night sky, with a smattering of twinkling white stars covering him from head to toe. Pete was confused by this, as he had always seen the Star Champion wearing a white outfit in the middle of the day. The suit continued seamlessly into a full face mask, with only two red lenses covering the eyes. Everything else would have blended perfectly into the starry night sky.

He didn’t have time to analyze the flying man’s wardrobe, as he was distracted by the intense gaze that his captor currently had fixed upon him. He couldn’t see the Champion’s eyes, but he couldn’t look away from the red lenses hiding them. He felt like he was being hypnotized by the snake from the Jungle Book.

The relentless stare broke suddenly when the Star Champion turned his head skyward and began flying upward at incredible speed. Pete was terrified, not of heights, but of falling from them. Luckily the wind rushing past them was to powerful for Pete to open his eyes.

Higher and higher the pair flew. Pete was convinced he was going to wet himself and he screamed in utter terror all the way up.

The Star Champion stopped just as suddenly as he started. They were now well above the towering city, and Pete was crying. The Champion looked at the pitiful man, tilting his head to one side curiously. He didn’t understand what the man was saying. It all sounded like gibberish to him.

“Please… Please let me go… I don’t want to die!” Pete cried pathetically as the Champion looked him over. Thoughts of his big story were gone now, all he wanted was to be safely back on the ground.

The Star Champion didn’t make a noise. He merely watched as the pathetic creature gibbered, and leaked fluid from it’s eyes. He reached up and grabbed the creature by it’s mane, and roughly twisted it’s head to the side, inspecting it’s neck closely.

Pete screamed in such a way, it would put the greatest of horror actresses to shame. He thought the flying man was about to snap his neck, as the iron grip of his hand clenched a tuft of Pete’s hair and turned his head to one side. Pete swore he heard a strange whistling noise before they were swooping toward the street once more.

With a rush of cold night air, the Star Champion left Pete Mackreely hanging for dear life on the tip of a flagpole outside the New Plymouth High School.

Trash Night

I slowly stalk out the front door of my small house. It’s after midnight, somewhere between three and four. I tightly clutch the thin plastic bag filled with garbage in one hand, while I softly close the door with my other.

The first thing I notice is the cold. It seeps into my skin like fresh water on barren soil. It drenches me until I’m chilled to the bone. This cold doesn’t hinder my progress and I stride fearlessly across my lawn.

Now I notice the darkness. It lurks around the edges of my vision as if to close in on me and destroy me. My eyes are locked on my goal, the immense black plastic bucket that sits beside my driveway on the edge of my yard. It sits beneath the street lamp. The only other source of illumination besides my porch light. The orange glow of the street lamp helps me remained focused on my goal.

As I reach the trash can, the silence seems to catch up to me. I freeze, inches from the lid of the black bucket, and listen. I hear nothing. The small town where I live is asleep. It will not be awake for many hours yet. It’s unsettling to hear the sounds of a silent town, and I grip the lid of the trash can and toss the plastic bag inside.

I turn back to my house, anxious now to return to whatever source of noise was distracting me before responsibility and guilt motivated me to take out the trash. I can’t see my house anymore. The light on the porch has burned out.

The chill in my bones turns into a shiver, as I stand silently in the small ring of orange light beside my trash can. The silence is deafening. What was that? Did I hear something just outside my vision? Is there some horrible entity waiting beyond the safety of the street lamp’s light? Does it want to kill me?

My pockets are empty, I left my phone inside. I can’t even rely on it’s dim digital screen to partially protect me from the unknown beast that no doubt lurks in the shadows. That’s when I hear it. It speaks to me in a low hiss. If a serpent could speak, this is what I imagine it would sound like.

“I.. can… enter the light…”

The sound makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I swallow back the lump in my throat, and step closer to the wooden pole that supports the light. Is the monster toying with me at this point? Is it feeding off of my fear? In my worst nightmare I’d never considered something as terrifying as the beast that lurks on the edge of the light. Then I saw it, and it hissed again.

“You are afraid… You cannot escape…”

A horrible appendage crept towards me from the shadows. It looked like a human hand, but the skin was sickening. It was hanging loose of the bones of the creature, almost dragging the ground. It had three long rubbery fingers, which were grasping the air as it reached toward me. My back was now firmly pressed against the wooden light pole.

“No where… To run…” it hissed, as it inched further into view.

Now I could see more of the disgusting creature. The side of it’s body slumped low to the ground, the sickly skin still hanging loose and dragging the ground. As I stared, paralyzed by horror I couldn’t help bu notice the yellowish boils on the creatures sagging skin. They seemed to ooze a thick fluid, which turned my stomach.

“You… will… diiiiiieeeeee….”

The side of it’s head began to push into the light as it hissed it’s final threat. Just then a bright light came from the street. A car was driving past. As it did so the light passed over the where the creature lay and it was no longer there.

I didn’t hesitate. I took the opportunity to sprint back to my front door. After that night, I swore to get the trash out on time.

End

The Afterlife #5

His apartment was dark, but smelled clean. To say he lived there was a bit of a stretch. He didn’t like the place and instead spent most of his time in his car, or at the cafe where Melanie worked. He flicked on the light to the front hall. He walked into the kitchen and set the case on the table there.

He stripped off his soaking blazer and shirt and sat half naked at the kitchen table. After he arrived at home after talking to Maggie he had tried to sleep through the depression, to no avail. The next day, yesterday, he had gone back to the cafe.

He spent all day there. Just sitting and being miserable. He watched the waitresses change shifts over the course of the afternoon, knowing he’d be there a few more hours as he waited for Melanie to show up for work. That one thought was the only thing keeping him from climbing to the top of his apartment and throwing himself off of it.

He sat at his table, ordering the occasional cup of coffee, or bite to eat to avoid getting kicked out. The waitresses were avoidant. He assumed they were picking up on his bad mood and chose not to talk to him.

Just before the night time shift change something odd happened. A man walked into the cafe and sat at his table. He was an older man that Richard had never seen before. Or had he? The man seemed familiar.

The waitress approached and took the man’s order. “One cup of plain, black coffee, my dear,” he said with a smile. The look on his face made Richard feel worse. The knowledge that his happy gentleman was now going to talk to him made him feel even worse than that.

“Who are you?” Richard asked.

“Hm? Oh, no body important. Just wanted to get a cup of coffee and share a piece of advice to someone in need.”

Richard gave him an incredulous look. He felt a surge of anger. Who was this guy? Richard though, how does he know me?

“Well, let’s hear it,” Richard was impatient at this point. He took a sip of his own cold cup of coffee as the waitress returned with his companion’s beverage.

“Thank you,” he said to the waitress. Before replying to Richard he sipped the steaming cup of coffee. “Ah, nice an rich. Now, you look like you’re having a bad day.”

“Bad couple of days,” Richard corrected.

“Right,” the man said, not seeming to be annoyed by the interruption. “Well I’m here to tell you it’s just a stroke of bad luck. If you go on home and get some rest, you’ll wake up tomorrow to find it’s a fresh new day. You just need to recover from the bad things that have happened before more bad things happen.”

“That’s what I did yesterday. It didn’t work,” Richard was done talking to this guy.

“So be it,” said the man before leaving the table with his cup of coffee.

Richard didn’t even watch him go. It was a strange occurrence, sure, but he didn’t care what anyone had to say to him at that point. With one exception, he remembered as Melanie approached his table.

The Afterlife #4

It was almost midnight by the time Richard had arrived at the apartment building where he lived. It was kind of run down and on the bad side of town. Richard hated the place. He never felt like it was his home even after living there for nearly three years.

He unlocked the door and stepped out of the rain for the first time since he had left the pawn shop. In the lobby there were several garbage bags brimming with trash. The superintendent had failed to take the trash out once again. It smelled, but he ignored it and went through the door to the stairwell which would take him up to the third floor where his room was.

As he climbed the stairs, the guilty weight of the gun case having relaxed a little, he recalled the conversation he had with his sister after leaving the office on Monday.

Richard was sitting in his car outside a small greasy spoon diner near his apartment. He was on his cheap cell phone, battling for service. Eventually he got Maggie on the phone.

“Hello?” inquired the small voice on the other end of the line.

“Maggie? It’s Richard,” he said, expecting that he would need to repeat that.

“Oh hey! How’s things?”

“Not good, I just lost my job,” he said, expecting some sympathy from his beloved sister. The two of them had been through a lot over the years.

“Oh no! What happened?” she asked in a worried tone.

“Well, I was at the cafe yesterday when-,” he began, but soon stopped when he heard Maggie talking to someone else on the other end of the line. He could vaguely hear the deep tone of her fiance, Albert Hesh.

After a moment of listening to the hushed tones of a conversation he couldn’t quite make out, Maggie returned to the line. “I’m sorry Richard, there’s so much going on with the wedding and everything.”

“Yeah, never mind. It’s not important anyway,” he said, knowing she was busy and not wanting to trouble her with his own issues. He picked the picture he had of them when they were kids. “Hey, do you think you can get free sometime this week? I kinda wanted to go visit Ms. Lily.”

The wince from Maggie answered his question before she could even speak. “I’m sorry I’ve got too much stuff to do right now. Maybe we can-” the call dropped before she could finish. Richard sighed and closed his phone. He looked at it for a moment before flipping it over and taking the battery out of it. He tossed the battery in the floor board and tossed the phone out the window attempting to land it in the nearby trash bin. It missed. He drove home after that.

He exited the the stairwell into the third floor hallway. His neighbors were no doubt tucked away in bed by now, so he quietly made his way to his room. He unlocked the door and stepped inside.

Meanwhile… #4

The mugger slammed Pete Mackreely up against the wall. Pete had turned his head in an attempt to mitigate as much damage as possible. The rough bricks scratched across his face. The way he was held Pete could feel the mugger’s elbow digging into the spot on his back between his shoulder blades, pushing him forward against the wall. The presence of the gun pressing against his lower back kept him from struggling.

“You move, you’re fuckin’ dead,” said the mugger, emphasizing his point by jabbing the gun a little harder into Pete’s back. “Loosen your watch,” he instructed.

Moving carefully, so as not to give the mugger a reason to shoot him, Pete raised his hands above his head and pulled the metal clasp loose. As soon as he had done so the mugger slammed him against the wall again and quickly snagged the golden watch from his wrist.

“Now, where’s your wallet, man?”

“It’s in my front pocket,” answered Pete. He was suddenly worried that The Star Champion wouldn’t show up to help him. Bitterness crept into his thoughts.

The mugger changed his hands, so that the arm holding Pete was also the one holding the gun. He pressed the gun against the back of Pete’s head, while groping his front pants pocket for the reporter’s wallet.

Pete gritted his teeth. All the money he had to his name was in that wallet. Quickly he moved his head away from the gun and before the mugger could react he whipped around and punched the man in the side of the head.

It nailed him hard, causing him to reel. Pete quickly grabbed the gun in the man’s hand.

“Fucker,” muttered the mugger through a blood filled mouth. He had regained his focus and was now trying to overpower Pete.

Pete then kicked the man in the knee, causing him to lose his balance and topple to the ground. He fell, but Pete managed to keep a hold on the gun. Pete examined the gun briefly as his assailant groaned on the ground. It was a semi-automatic. He made sure it was loaded and flicked the safety off. The idiot mugger was threatening him with an unarmed weapon.

“My watch,” said Pete, pointing the gun at the mugger on the ground. The mugger cursed and pulled the gold watch from his pants pocket and offered it to Pete.

Pete reached for it, but then he noticed the mugger looking skyward. Pete followed his gaze and saw the figure of a man swooping down from above. He grabbed Pete by the front of his coat and hauled him up into the air, high above the city.

The Afterlife #3

Now soaked as he was his intentions felt more sound, yet the case in his hand felt strangely heavy. Hesitation still lingered in his mind somewhere. He stopped at a cross walk and waited for the light. He looked up at the dark sky and felt the cold rain on his face as he dredged up happened on Monday.

After his car had been vandalized, he took it to a auto glass shop near where he lived. The burly mechanic who owned the place explained that he would need to order the glass needed to repair the broken window.

Another set back. Richard asked the man to call him when he got it in stock and left the garage with duck tape, and trash bags keeping the wind out of his car.

By the time he made it to work he was late. He worked for a man named Kyle Cole. Mr. Cole was the senior loss prevention manager for Cleaner Life, which was one of the lead bath supply retailers in the country. Richard was Mr. Cole’s personal assistant. Mostly he was required to file documents, fetch coffee, and answer the phone. Occasionally Mr. Cole would ask him to create presentations for the various conferences he had every day.

On Monday one conference had already come and gone before Richard ever made it to work. As soon as Richard had made it home the night before he had tried to call Mr. Cole and tell him what had happened. He tried eight times and received no answer. He sent him an email before bed and tried to call again before leaving for the auto glass place. His boss was notorious for not answering his phone.

When Richard arrived in the high rise office building where they worked he knew right away that Mr. Cole was mad. The way his co-workers gave him a pained, or fearful look told him that much. He stopped by his desk and dropped off his coat before proceeding to the large, double doors that lead into Mr. Cole’s office. He pushed open the doors and stepped in, hoping his boss would understand his plight.

“You’re late,” Mr. Cole said when Richard had approached his desk, he had his back to Richard looking out into the dingy gray sky through his office window.

“I’m sorry, sir. I tried to call you, and I sent you an email,” Richard explained, a lump welling up in his throat. He knew his boss was angry. When something didn’t go his way Mr. Cole didn’t yell and scream. He radiated anger. Nothing in his voice or actions really betrayed his feelings, but the sense of unease seeped into those around him when he was angry, and Richard was feeling it now.

“Why were you late?”

“My car was broken into. I needed to see a mechanic about the window this morning. It-,” before he could conclude his story, Mr. Cole turned and fixed him with a harsh gaze.

“Is there a reason why this couldn’t be done after you brought me my presentation?” asked Mr. Cole. His voice still the surface of a freshwater pond, but when stacked with the angry projection that Richard could feel it was more like a still pond with a crocodile waiting just below the surface.

“My briefcase was stolen. My computer was in it,” Richard was getting irritated by Mr. Cole’s constant interruptions.

“Stolen?” Mr. Cole repeated, rising from his seat. “Why didn’t you have a back up? You’re supposed to back up important documents and presentations, that’s common sense, Cammond.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t back them up. I only have one computer.”

“It’s a real shame, Cammond. You’ve been one of the best assistants I’ve had in a long time. But I had a conference with the president of the company this morning, and he wasn’t happy when I couldn’t show him how much our loss prevention strategies have cut on losses across the company. He was not happy at all.”

Richard knew what was coming. He had messed up big time, but at that moment he couldn’t care less. The thought of shoving Mr. Cole and his gigantic desk out the office window crossed his mind, but he dismissed it since he knew he wouldn’t be able to move the heavy wooden desk.

“You’re fired, clean out your desk and go home,” Mr. Cole said, returning to his seat and picking his cup of coffee off the desk before turning to look out the window once more.

A small part of Richard’s mind wanted him to protest, to claim that it wasn’t his fault. That it would never happen again. Instead he turned and exited the office. He went to his desk to collect his things. When he got there he realized he didn’t need any of the things he had there, most of his important things had been in his briefcase.

He was about to leave when he noticed the picture of him and his sister Maggie sitting on the desk. He picked it up and smiled weakly. It had been taken when they were kids, their foster mother, Lily Holsun was with them. He took the picture and left the office, forgetting to grab his coat as he did so.

Meanwhile… #3

Peter Mackreely walked down the street with confidence, even though it was late at night and he was on the bad side of New Plymouth. He pulled his old brown coat tightly around him, as a chill wind had begun to blow. He knew what he was doing. He had goals. One of those goals was to one day become the editor in chief of the NPW, the city’s major newspaper. He knew a good way to get ahead of his competitors, all he had to do was get a decent photograph of The Star Champion.

Pete kept peering upward into the starry night sky, knowing The Star was overhead somewhere, watching him. He had been rescued by him before. It was during the opening of the city’s new library. Pete had been elected to cover the story for NPW and it was the first big story he had been allowed to cover. Never mind that the three colleagues ahead of him had all come down with the same stomach virus that day.

The mayor of New Plymouth, Devin Hague, was giving a speech in front of the steps to the massive stone building when the explosion happened. It made the ground shake violently and smoke began to billow out of the top of the library. Pete knew it was an opportunity he couldn’t pass up, so he went sprinting to the nearby office building in an attempt to get to a higher vantage point. He made it ten stories up and broke into an abandoned office. From the window there he had an excellent view of the top of the library.

Fire was visible through the smoke, but there was something else going on amongst the chaos. Pete was snapping photos furiously, hoping that one of the pictures would make it simpler to identify what was happening down there. Then a sudden gust blew the smoke aside and Pete saw it. It looked like a dragon. It had a long serpentine body with smoldering black scales, like the remains of a country bonfire.

Pete had stopped taking pictures, he was amazed and horrified. He never knew such a creature existed. Then he noticed why the smoke had stopped. A man had flown in without the aid of any flying machine. Peter was doubly baffled. The man appeared to be wearing a white wetsuit, or something. Pete’s confusion was not about to recede, as he watched the man swoop down and wrestle with the dragon.

After the man in tights had tackled the dragon the smoke began billowing forth once more. Pete remembered he was holding a camera and began mentally berating himself for not using it when he had a clear view of what was going on.

After that the smoke stopped entirely, but the man and the dragon were no where to be found. Firefighters investigated the library and discovered that some bad electrical wiring had caused a spark near a back up generator, igniting the gasoline and causing the explosion.

Pete knew this wasn’t the case, but no one would believe him. After that day rumor began to spread across the city of a flying man in a white outfit with a blue star on the front. He was rescuing people from burning buildings, and car accidents. Stopping bank robbers, and muggers from escaping the police. Still no one believed Peter, but he knew what he saw. He knew he had to get closer to the man who had become known as The Star Champion.

He would do so by walking around the bad side of town late at night. Pete was coming up on an alley as he walked. When he strode past it, he made a point to flip his wrist up and check his watch for the time. He made sure that the gold on the watch glinted in the street light. He kept his pace, but his heart began to pound as trepidation set in.

Soon a strong hand gripped Pete by the shoulder and slammed him against the brick wall of the building he was walking beside. He felt something pressed sharply against his back, something he assumed was a gun.

Sword of Blood – Blade of Sin Pt. 6

“No! It can’t be! Not the dear Captain!” exclaimed Adelbriet, after Lieutenant Reaves had told him the bad news.

“I’m afraid so. Commander Sisko has asked that you and I take a look at the remains of his home and see if we can’t piece together what happened,” explained Reaves.

Albert was also sad to hear the news of the Captain’s demise, and offered both of them drinks on the house. Adelbriet declined, which surprised Reaves, who ordered a shot of brandy.

“The fiend who did this will pay,” Adelbriet said quietly. Reaves could tell the wizard was not taking the news well.

“I fully intend to find the person responsible for this and see that they get what they deserve,” said Reaves, placing a hand on the wizard’s frail shoulder. “But I’m going to need your help. Do you think we can utilize your divinations to determine what transpired last night?”

“It will a simple feat,” Adelbriet replied, his emerald eyes glimmering maliciously. His voice deepened when he spoke again, “We will see those responsible for this clapped in irons!”

Reaves smiled, he liked seeing this side of Adelbriet. He hadn’t known him as long as he wished he had, but the endless cycle of joking and drinking was one that Reaves didn’t much care for. He hated seeing people with no major goals like he had for himself.

Albert placed two shooters of brandy on the bar in front of the pair. Reaves took one, and slid the other one to Adelbriet, though the wizard had abstained before.

“To justice,” said Reaves, holding the small glass up.

Adelbriet took up his own shot. “To the Captain,” he said before they both took the shot.

After sitting the glass back down on the bar, Reaves got up from the bar stool. The Lieutenant adjusted his tricorne, as Adelbriet rose next to him. He took the silver case from his belt again and took a cigarette and a match from it.

As he lit his cigarette, he had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

The Afterlife #2

As Richard stepped out onto the sidewalk, clutching his newly purchased weapon close to his chest, he noticed a smattering of rain begin to fall. He pulled his black business blazer tight, wishing he had remembered the weather and not left his coat at the office.

This is perfect, he thought. Lose your job and forget to grab one of the only things you have that means anything anymore, nice going Richard.

The past few days had been terrible. As he slowly walked through the dark rainy streets of the city, he began to relive each moments that had lead up to this point. The point where he would take his own life.

On Sunday, his car had been broken into. He had been eating lunch at his favorite cafe, trying to build up the necessary courage to ask the waitress, Melanie, out. He had fallen for her over the past month, as he had discovered the nameless cafe has the richest coffee he had ever tasted.

There he sat on that cold Sunday night, drinking his piping hot cream-filled coffee. Melanie was his waitress, as he preferred, and he fully intended to ask her to dinner.

Melanie was the polar opposite of Richard. She had a dark complexion. Middle eastern, Richard suspected. He was quite pale. Her hair was a warm auburn, long and thick. He sported a short business cut, which he preferred since his hair only looked ratty and greasy when he let it grow out. It was also pitch black, like his mother’s had been. She was shapely and attractive, while Richard felt he was too thin.

Melanie was the type of person who could talk to anyone about anything. When she and Richard spoke, they discussed all types of things. The topics of conversation branched from her varied tastes in music, to the books Richard had been reading. As far as Richard could tell, they had quite a bit in common.

Melanie had approached his table and Richard had sat his coffee down. As he opened his mouth to utter the words “Would you like to go out some time?” they heard a loud crash from outside. Richard turned to peer out the glass front of the cafe to see that someone had opened the backseat door of his car. They had smashed through the window to unlock it.

He quickly jumped to his feet and darted out of the cafe to confront the burglar. As Richard shouted, the man whipped around and attempted to hit Richard with the crowbar he had used to smash the window. Richard managed to avoid the attack, but lost his balance in the process, slipping on the damp street and falling onto his rump.

The man looked him in the eye and raised the crowbar threateningly, before turning and fleeing with Richard’s briefcase in tow. Richard slowly got to his feet, feeling defeated. That briefcase contained his laptop, and numerous presentations he had needed for work the next day. He regretted that he had left the case in his car.

More negative feelings set in, as he realized he had blown his chance of asking Melanie out. He felt like a fool and without returning to the cafe to even pay his check, he got in his car and drove home.

A car zipped by Richard, and he was partially splashed by the water from the gutter along the sidewalk. The weather suited his mood and he welcomed it. He felt like the world was just egging him on towards his goal of suicide.