0

Brothebit Girl

“What!?” Kaltrina exclaimed. “What are you talking about. That’s not true. I don’t believe it.”

The tall, willowy girl with silvery-white hair glared at the Brothebit lying lazily on the branch in front of her.

The large, cat-like creature glared back.

“Are you calling me a liar, child?”

Its eyes flared bright yellow with irritation, and the Brothebit pulled back its lips in a snarl, revealing its large, sharp fangs.

“I am a Brothebit. Just like you. I just haven’t fully developed my tail and fangs and fur yet.”

The giant, white feline sighed with exasperation. Realizing that arguing with this girl was futile, she turned away from her.

The Brothebit lay on the large branch quietly, but her tail continued to twitch in irritation. She could sense the girl’s eyes boring into the back of her head.

The child was stubborn, ferocious, and explosive. All qualities that the Brothebit admired. She had instilled them in this young girl since the day Shinx had found her.

“But you told me that I was a Brothebit. You told me that one day, I would be as powerful as you.”

“I hoped that one day it would be so, child. And I raised you as such. But it is not to be.”

“What are you talking about? What am I? Who am I?”

The Brothebit sighed. Rolled over. Glared at the Katrina.

“You are human. Mostly human anyway.”

“What? No!” the girl screeched furiously. “I am not human. We hate humans. We hunt humans. We kill humans.”

“And yet, that is what you are, child. Mostly human. There is no denying it. You will never be full Brothebit like me. It is time that we part ways. You must go your human way. I must go my Brothebit way. I must return to my kind. I cannot take you with me.”

“Why are you doing this to me,” the girl screamed angrily, trying to hold back the tears. “I thought you loved me. I thought you were my mother.”

“All children eventually leave their mother and father and head out on their own. It is time for you to do the same. Be on your way. Find your own kind. Live your life with them.”

“Please, don’t do this to me,” Katrina pleaded. “Let me go with you. I will be good. I will do whatever you say.”

“It’s not about you being good or not. If you return with me to my kind, they will slaughter you. The Brothebit hate you and your kind.”

Katrina slammed her lance furiously against the branch she was standing on. She wanted to ram it through the Brothebit’s ribs, deep into her heart. Again and again.

The girl held back the hot tears that threatened to well up in her eyes at the feelings of betrayal and hurt that throbbed with every heartbeat.

She took a long, slow, deep breath that shuddered her whole body at the end.

“Why did you lie to me?” she finally managed to ask quietly. “Why lead me on all this time, if you knew I couldn’t go back with you?”

The Brothebit growled bitterly. A deep, throaty rasp that rattled Katrina’s bones.

“I wanted a cub, but never bore young. There was a human. He earned our trust. A good human. He offered to help. Our king told me not to listen to him. But my desire for my own grew and intensified. I went to him and accepted his help.”

Katrina had never heard this story before. She sat down on the large, rough branch beside Shinx to listen to the feline’s tale.

“The man said he was a research scientist who studied the things that make us Brothebit who we are. He called them genes. He said he could make medicine to help me bear young. But in the end, he betrayed me. Or I think he did.”

“What do you mean?” Katrina asked.

“He disappeared. Other scientists took his place. Put me in a cage. Did many hurtful things. The poked and prodded me. In the end, they created you in something they called a test tube. They said that you were a mix of races.”

The Brothebit paused to look off into the distance. Katrina watched the feline closely. Observed her fighting her emotions. She waited for the Shinx to continue.

“At first, I hated you. I hated what the scientist researchers had done. They acted as if you were my child. Even though you looked like them. I was horrified. I felt sickened. Disgusted.”

Katrina waited until Shinx got her emotions under control once again.

“Then, they began to do terrible things to you as they had done to me. They poked and prodded you. I realized that it wasn’t your fault for being there. If anyone’s fault, it was mine. I felt pity for you. Maybe even something akin to motherly love. And I had to save you. Get you away from them.”

“How?” Katrina asked.

“It was easy. I went with them willingly, thinking they were going to help me. They underestimated my Brothebit strength. They had created the place to contain a human. It was easy to tear through their defenses.”

“So, why did you bring me and raise me?”

“Call it motherly instinct. You were the closest thing to a cub that I had ever had. I cared for you and raised you as my own. I hoped that over time, you would become more like me. Grow fur. Grow a tail. Grow fangs. But instead, you only became more human.” the Brothebit snarled.

“So, I’m human, and you hate me. That is why you want to abandon me.” Katrina stated bitterly.

“No, child. I don’t hate you. I care for you deeply. I swore I would raise you as my own. You make me proud. But it is the way of nature. It is time for you to return to your kind. As it is for me to return to mine.”

“But what will I do without you?” Katrina wailed.

“You will return and learn the ways of humans. You will live with your kind. They will accept you. They will love you. Only don’t tell them where you came from. Make a new story for yourself. Humans are gullible. They will believe you. You will fit right in. I have taught you well.”

“No, I won’t go. I refuse to go. I will stay here.” Katrina shouted vehemently.

“Fine, child. You may do as you like. But you will be alone here once I leave. I will remain with you three days. Then I will go. It will be better for you to return to your kind, so you are not alone. I will show you where they come from. I will show you the place you came from.”

Katrina begged and pleaded with Shinx, but it was no use. The Brothebit refused to negotiate on the terms of her leaving.

The girl stood up and looked off into the distance. A slew of emotions flooded her body. Anger at the lies and betrayal. Rage at her soon abandonment. Fear of her unknown future. And even a twinge of nervous excitement at discovering her roots.

Katrina had always known that she wasn’t like Shinx, but she didn’t know why. At least until now. Everything made sense now.

It had seemed weird to compare how much more she looked like the humans Shinx killed then the Brothebit herself. And now she knew why.

The girl looked back at Shinx, still lying on the branch. Sulking over her decision. Katrina knew it had to be hard for her. And yet, she understood that the Brothebit was only trying to do the right thing by her. And she appreciated that.

Katrina was grateful for the years of care and sacrifice the creature had made for her. She decided to spend time and enjoy these last three days with the only mother she had ever known. And, if possible, Katrina would return again to see her once more. And maybe even make things right once she understood what happened herself.

0

The Gunman

Nigel stood in the middle of the staircase, looking up at his nemesis staggering around on the balcony. A sense of satisfaction flooded his body and overwhelmed him. He wanted to gloat over the fact that he had finally put a bullet in his rival. 

After all these years of hunting him down. Chasing him across continents. Over borders into hostile territory. Through city after city. Nigel finally had his showdown. 

No matter that Nigel would most likely be dead himself within a matter of minutes. But the fact that he had finally accomplished his ultimate objective in life was enough for him. He could finally die happy and rest in peace. 

He stood silent and still. His long, brown trenchcoat wafting up around him from the heat of the blazing fire below. Holding the gun at his side. Ready to fire a second time if needed. Not that Nigel thought he needed to. 

Nigel had been training and practicing every day for the past seven years. He was sure of his shot. He was confident that Yuri would soon keel over and roll down the steps at his feet. 

Then he would kick Yuri’s body over the edge of the stairs into the flames below. Then the fire would continue to consume the stairs and the house around him. And he would perish together with his nemesis here in this blazing inferno.

It was a fitting end to his journey. After seven years of being consumed by his lust and desire for revenge, it was the right way to go. His body consumed by the flames just as his life had been consumed by this single-hearted obsession. 

Nigel didn’t mind dying like this. There were far worse ways to go. Growing old. Becoming a decrepit old man who could barely feed himself. Wasting away slowly. Or worse, getting into an accident and becoming paralyzed. No longer able to hunt down his enemy.

His very worst fear, though, had been of dying without having gotten his revenge. Nigel had lost count of the times he had woken up in a cold sweat. Dreaming of dying while his nemesis still lived. Stood over Nigel. Mocking Nigel as he slowly died. 

 But all of that was past now. Yuri would soon be dead. And even though he would die too, Nigel could rest in the assurance that he had his revenge. 

The wooden stairway crackled and snarled below him. Nigel could feel the steps snapping in the heat under his feet. The heat blazed up hotter and higher around him. But still, Nigel waited for Yuri to drop dead at his feet. 

He wanted to raise the weapon and fire off another shot. Nail Yuri right between the eyes. Watch the light fade from his eyes before falling into the flames. But at the same time, Nigel didn’t want to put Yuri out of his misery. Let him suffer every last second possible. 

But Yuri didn’t fall over. After yelling angrily and stomping around, he bent over as if catching his breath. Nigel didn’t understand it. How could Yuri not be dead? He started to raise his gun. 

Before he could fire off another shot, though, the stairwell under his feet began to cave in. Gravity took over, and Nigel’s body began to drop into the flames below. 

“No!” he screamed in rage as he fell into the fiery inferno below. Nigel fired wildly into the darkness above. Hoping that one of his bullets would find its mark. Hoping to see Yuri’s body falling over the edge to join him as fuel for the flames. 

But none of that happened. And Nigel screamed as long and as loud as he could. Not so much from the pain of the burns, as the despair of not watching Yuri die before he did. 

And then the darkness overcame him. 

When Nigel came to, he felt like he had been run over by a semi. Literally. He had heard the expression and mocked it. Thinking that others were exaggerating their pain. But that was precisely how he described it to the nurse hovering over him. 

Her nametag said, Julia. She gave him something that made him feel better almost immediately. Then let him rest. 

When he came to the second time, Nigel asked where he was and how he came to be here. 

“Moss Forest Psychiatric Hospital,” she said. “A friend brought you into the General hospital two weeks earlier. You came to after about three days. Screaming that you were going to kill the man who murdered your family. So, they transferred you over here.”

“Yuri Vasyl Holub,” Nigel muttered softly. 

Fear flickered in the woman’s eyes. “Yuri is the name of the man who brought you in. I don’t think you want to kill him,” she murmured. 

“Yes, I do!” he growled. “My name is Nigel Berry Boatwright. And I shall have my vengeance on Yuri Vasyl Holub before I die.”

The nurse brushed a brown lock of hair that had slipped forward back behind her ear. She glanced over to the side. Then back at Nigel. 

“Tell that to Mr. Holub because he is sitting right there.”

Nigel tried to turn his head, but couldn’t because of all the bandages wrapped around his neck and upper body. He could see a form in his peripheral vision. 

“That you, Yuri?”

“Yes, Nigel, my old enemy.”

“Why did you pull me from those flames?”

“I couldn’t let you die, Nigel. How long have we been at this?”

“Seven years.”

“Yes, seven years. What would I do without you? My life would have lost its purpose. I haven’t yet found redemption for my sins. I must find it before the chase ends.”

Yuri stood up and walked over to Nigel’s side. He placed a gun on Nigel’s belly. Pressed Nigel’s hand over the weapon. 

“You must get well. The chase must go on. My life has no meaning without you trying to kill me for the terrible things I have done. I realized that when I saw you fall into the flames. I had to save you.”

Nigel looked at him in confusion. He picked up the gun and checked the magazine. It was loaded. He pointed the pistol and pointed it at Yuri. 

“Go ahead. The hunt must go on.”

Nigel shook his head. “I can’t shoot you now. You just saved my life. Even if I did, you would survive. How did you survive the last shot? How did you survive the flames? There isn’t a scratch on you.”

“Hush. Get well. When you get out, come search for me again. Hunt me. Chase me down. When we meet again, you may learn why everything happened the way that it did.”

“But…” Nigel asked. 

“No, buts,” Yuri interrupted, slipping a syringe into his IV and squirting it into the clear fluid. “Get well soon. Then we shall continue this conversation. Then we shall continue the hunt.”

Darkness once again overcame Nigel. Only this time, there was no pain. Only sweet relief. This time he didn’t dream of Yuri. He dreamt of home. Of his wife. Of his son. Of his daughter. Of his family that had once been snatched so cruelly away. 

His name was Nigel Berry Boatwright, and he would have his revenge. Maybe not this time around. But next, he would find Yuri and make sure he got what he had coming to him.

0

The Day Time Stood Still

“Look, mommy! Look.” Carla heard a young child shouting in the distance.

Carla sighed and tried to focus on her Calculus 2 homework. She slouched down lower in her on the picnic table bench. Her brow furrowed deep with frustration.

“Come here, honey,” the mother yelled, her voice tinged with anxiety.

Carla growled and covered her ears with her hands to try to block out the noise. She had come to the park for peace and quiet. To get away from her obnoxious roommate.

She had thought that boarding with someone from the same country as herself would be a good thing. But two weeks into her stay, Carla already regretted it. She was already looking for another place to move to.

Carla had had enough of the girl’s endless drama. Her roommate created mountains out of molehills. Even though she had always been a homebody, lately, Carla preferred to be anywhere except at home. Which was how she ended up here in the park.

Enough was enough. Carla was going to find a new place and move. Even if she lost her security deposit or had to pay extra for breaking her lease early.

The young woman pulled a scrunchie off her ponytail. Shook her thick, black hair. Pulled her sweater sleeves up farther over her palms. Then ran her long, slender fingers through her dark locks.

It wasn’t cold, but the late afternoon temperature as the sun prepared to set was colder than she was used to back home in the southern hemisphere at this time of year.

She took a deep breath and shook her shoulders to psych herself up for one final push to get this homework finished up.

The sweet, strong scent of the French Lilacs that surrounded her assailed her nostrils. It gave her a heady rush and brought a smile to her face. She paused for a moment to relish the smell.

She tried to take advantage of the moment to remind herself that she should just breathe and enjoy the moment. But the sound of the young girl’s shrill voice broke her train of thought and shattered her reprieve.

“What is it, mommy? What is it?”

“Vitoria May! Come here right now.” the mother shouted, almost hysterically.

She grabbed her open backpack and shoved her books and paper inside with an irritated growl. Carla looked up toward the girl with a scowl. The young woman hoped the girl would look at her and see just how annoyed she was.

The innocent child stood in the middle of a grassy knoll, pointing up into the sky. Her mother was scrambling to gather up a few food and drink items scattered on a checkered red and white blanket for their afternoon picnic.

The frightened woman threw them into a dark brown, hand-woven basket and threw the blanket over her shoulder. She grabbed the child’s hand and began to pull her along.

But the girl never turned back around toward her mother. She continued to look back over into the sky behind Carla. Still pointing up into the air. It was a strange scene. Almost as if the child had been frozen in place, and the mother was simply dragging a statue through the grass.

Carla glanced up in the general direction the child was pointing, but couldn’t see anything through the branches of the tree overhead. When she glanced back, she could no longer see the young girl, but the mother had turned to drag the child with both hands.

After they disappeared from view, Carla noticed the brown basket still sitting in the grass where the mother must have tossed it aside to take care of the kid.

Carla shook her head. Kids these days. They were entitled little brats that wouldn’t obey their parents. And parents had no backbone to keep their kids in line. Giving them whatever they wanted.

The young woman swore to herself that if she ever had kids that she would make sure they obeyed her. She wouldn’t put up with screaming little brats throwing fits in the middle of a restaurant or supermarket.

Since the screaming girl had left, Carla sat back down with a sigh of relief. Leaving now wasn’t the right thing to do. She still had to solve these last few equations. After that, she would grab a bite to eat and continue her search for a new place to stay.

Carla unzipped her pink backpack to pull out her Calculus book and purple notebook again but became aware of a strange vibration in her core.

It was hard to describe, but the closest she could come to an explanation was that it felt like the time she had her hair buzzed over the summer.

It had been sweltering that year. So, before the fourth of July marathon, she had gone in to have back and sides of her head shaved. And right now, she felt like her hairstylist was pressing the buzzer firmly into the base of her skull.

Carla shook her head and stood up to walk out from under the tree toward the grassy knoll. She wanted to see what was going on for herself.

As she came up to the top and could see down the hill, Carla stopped in surprise. The mother was still standing there, holding the little girl’s hand. The child was still standing there, pointing up into the sky. Her mouth frozen open. Both frozen in their tracks.

Carla could see other people scattered on the hill below. All seemingly frozen in their tracks as well. Some looking up into the sky over her head. Others appeared oblivious to the strange events around them.

But no one moved. Everyone frozen in place. And only she was able to move around and observe them.

Carla turned slowly in the direction that the child was pointing but then paused. Wondering if some strange Medusa-like object in the sky froze everyone who looked in its direction.

She backed up quickly under the tree. Sidling up behind the tree trunk. Peeking carefully around the tree and between the branches. Gasping at the sight in front of her.

The sprawling city lay before her. Majestic as always. But above the skyscrapers and buildings, she saw giant, round orb floating in the sky above the clouds. It looked like a giant, black yo-yo with neon-green circles.

The sight absorbed all of her attention at first, and she failed to notice the smaller ships hovering around it. But when she finally did see them, Carla wondered how she could have missed them. There were hundreds of them. All waiting silently as if for a command.

After a few minutes, the smaller ships began to move out in all directions over the city. Each moving slowly and purposefully to fulfill its orders. Some were coming in her direction.

Carla scooped her books back into her backpack and slid it onto her shoulders. Then swiftly climbed up the trunk of the large tree in front of her. Clambering her way into branches. Hoping that the foliage would keep her hidden from their sight.

When she found a stable branch to perch on, Carla hugged the tree with one arm and reached into her pocket for her phone with the other. Her hands shook, and fingers trembled as she took pictures and filmed the scene in front of her.

Two of the ships floated almost silently past her hiding place. The only thing she heard was a slight whirring that seemed to be in sync with the buzzing at the base of her neck, which seemed to be coming from the giant, black ball floating over the center of the city.

One ship hovered over the child and her mother. The other floated on past to a boy who had been preparing to throw a football. His arm still frozen midair with his fingers wrapped around the rough, brown leather.

Carla watched in horror as a glowing, neon-green, tractor beam lit up the child and pulled her limp body up into the ship. Her finger still pointing into the sky the entire time. The other ship did the same with the boy below. His arm still frozen in place, and his fingers holding the ball the entire time.

She shivered as she flipped the phone back toward the other ship. It slipped in her fingers and tumbled from her hand. Carla tried to snatch it but wasn’t fast enough. Her fingertips brushed against the phone, knocking it out farther away from the base of the tree into the grass and bushes below.

Carla gasped as the ship turned in her direction. It’s light shining toward the place her phone had fallen. She placed her hand over her mouth and held her breath. Trying to hold back hot tears and loud screams that threatened to overwhelm her.

The beam of light scanned the ground under the tree. It lit up two large, city rats that had raced toward the sound of the falling phone, hoping for a treat. They sniffed the phone. Discovering nothing edible, they immediately scrambled into the bushes and away from the light.

The green light moved away from the tree. The ships floated silently back to the giant, black ball of what Carla assumed was their mother ship.

Then green lights faded. The buzzing at the base of her skull fell silent. People began moving around on the hill below.

But the giant, black ship still overshadowed the city. It wasn’t so much that she could see the ship, but that she could see stars shining around it and couldn’t see the stars shining behind.

The mother looked around in confusion for a moment but then began picking up the items that had fallen out of her picnic basket as if nothing had happened.

Carla glanced back at the sky. The ship had begun to shimmer softly. Now she could see the stars behind it again. Dully at first. Then more brightly. As if the vessel were disappearing or else cloaking itself from view.

Then it was gone completely. The stars shined brightly across the sky. Clouds floated silently over the city. Life went on as usual. People continued milling around as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Like they weren’t even aware that a giant, black orb had appeared over their city and hauled off with members of their society.

She waited. Making sure the orb was really gone before climbing out of the tree. Wondering when the mother was going to realize that her child was gone. But the woman finished putting everything in her basket. Then turned and walked toward the car without looking around for her daughter.

Carla scrambled and slid back down the trunk of the tree. Trying not to scrape herself up any worse than she already had. The young woman brushed herself off, picked up her phone, and raced after the woman.

“Wait! Ma’am! Excuse me. Hey! Wait.” Carla yelled as she ran down the hill.

Her arms flailed wildly. Her hair flying around her face. The woman looked frightened when she turned to see Carla racing in her direction. She pulled out a can of pepper spray and pointed it in Carla’s face.

Carla held up her hands in front of her face and bent over to catch her breath.

“What do you want?” the woman demanded angrily, trying to mask the fear in her voice.

“What about your daughter? Aren’t you going to wait for her?” Carla asked.

“What are you talking about, lady? Are you nuts? I don’t have a daughter,” the woman replied.

“Victoria. Victoria May. The girl that was just here with you.” Carla said, still gasping for air.

“I don’t know anybody named Victoria May.”

“Nobody? Never?” Carla said. Her voice trembling. Trying to hold back the tears that threatened to flood her eyes.

“May was my Grandmother’s name. But I don’t know anyone named Victoria,” the woman said emphatically, backing away toward the car. The can of pepper spray still pointed in Carla’s direction.

Carla turned on the phone and opened her photo album. She played the video of the woman and girl in the distance. She showed the woman the tractor beam pulling the girl up.

The woman shook her head emphatically. “That does look like me, but I’ve never seen that kid before.”

Then she relaxed and put down the can of pepper spray. She started to laugh and look around.

“Wait a minute. This is one of those prank video things. Isn’t it. Where are the hidden cameras.”

She looked back at Carla expectantly. The woman waited for the punch line. But Carla couldn’t hold back the tears. The woman cocked her head to the side. Opened her car door and tossed in the picnic basket.

“You need some help, girl. This isn’t funny,” the woman said.

Then she jumped into her car. Backed up quickly. And sped off into the night. Carla took a picture of the license plate in case she needed to track the woman down later.

She climbed back up the hill. Picked up her backpack. Sat down at the picnic table. Her homework long forgotten. Her search for a new apartment pushed aside. No longer hungry.

Waiting. Watching the sky for any shimmer or sign of a strange ship. Waiting long into the night. Wondering what had just happened. Wondering what was going on.

0

Search for the Moonstone Giant

Ken stood at the edge of the cliff overlooking the glaciers and mountains that lay before him. He breathed easier. The hardest part of the journey was over. He had made it. And he was still alive.

All he had to do now was find the one named Kalypso.

“Hey, Kalypso!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.

“Kalypso. Lypso. Ypso. So. So. Oh,” his voice echoed back mockingly.

The man stood there in the silence of ice and snow. Waiting for an answer.

But no answers came from the mountain.

It was growing darker. The giant crescent moonrock peaked out through the sides of the melting glacier glowed softly in the twilight. The sun would be setting soon. He needed to find shelter.

A colony of bats flew up from a cave into the grey sky. Their winged bodies silhouetted in the golden-yellow glow that emanated from the moonrock.

Ken glanced nervously over at the giant skull keeping guard over the mountain. He had heard the legends of these mighty beings who once ruled the land and roamed freely before being exiled to Rikdax.

His mother had once told him the stories of the Rikdax giants and how their fearless leader, Clagwor The Great, son of Morym The Fierce fought alongside the children of men in days long gone by. But then they had been betrayed and forced to live here in these icy, barren mountains.

“What ails you, human?”

Ken spun around. His heart racing.

A large, white horse came walking in his direction. Picking its steps carefully across the stones. Ken could see that it was lame. It limped badly. And yet still managed to move silently across the rocky area.

“Um. Were you talking to me?” Ken asked dumbly.

“Uh, yes! Do you see any other humans around?”

Ken shook his head.

“Are you Kalypso?” Ken asked.

The horse snorted, “Of course not. Kalypso was a giant. Not a horse.”

“Was? Is he not here?”

“These are his bones, human. The last of the great giants. He stood watch over that moonrock. Hoping that its light would someday attract more of his kind. Or at those who could become as he.”

“What happened to him?” Ken asked.

“What happens to us all, human? Age. It beats the best of us. More than a hundred winters have passed since Kalypso took his final breath. As you can see, the ice and snow have built up between the mountains and the moonrock. Soon, it will be all but buried. Gone forever. Swallowed up by the mountains.”

Ken sat down on a stone. He sighed deeply and shook his head silently.

“Why did you seek him, human?”

“I came for his blood,” Ken replied.

The horse backed away and snorted loudly, “Crazy humans. You came alone to fight a giant. Well, too late for that now. There is no revenge among the dead.”

Ken looked up and burst out laughing. “No, silly mule. Not for revenge. I’m a researcher. A scientist. I wanted blood samples from a giant.”

“Great moonrocks on fire! I should kick your teeth in for calling me a mule. I haven’t been insulted like that Kalypso was alive. Of course, I couldn’t kick him though. He was a giant. He would have squashed me like I swat a fly.”

The horse stomped one of its good feet angrily and pawed the ground. Ken chuckled heartily.

“We best be getting somewhere safe before it gets completely dark,” the horse said.

“Why?” Ken asked.

“There are strange things that happen in the darkness,” the horse replied in a hushed voice.

“Like what?” the human asked.

The horse lowered and shook its head as if shrugging, “It happens in the dark, and we are all in hiding. So, no one knows. But we hear strange noises. Those we are acquainted with are never seen again. Kalypso protected us from the darkness. But after he passed, we were left to fend for ourselves.”

“Like monsters?” Ken asked, sitting up and looking around.

The horse shrugged again, “Some say that certain beings and creatures are affected by the moonrock. It causes them to grow forever. Some say that the giants were once normal humans like you who were affected by the moonrock. That is why they grew so large.”

Ken sat up straighter. A broad grin on his face.

“Maybe my trip wasn’t in vain after all. I must get closer to this moonrock.”

“First, you have to survive the night, silly human. Let us find a safe place before the sun disappears completely. Tomorrow is a new day, and you may continue your journey.”

0

Kaito’s Quest

“Come, NightWind. Let us enter before it returns,” Kaito urged in a hushed voice

The dark, grey unicorn refused to move forward. The man flicked the reins and dug his heels into her side. She snorted and only took a step backward. Kaito scanned the black skies overhead nervously.

The portal before them glowed softly with a blue hue. The edges of the opening looked as if they had been created from ancient technology that his people had once used to create boards for the purpose of storing information. Something they had called computers. Kaito had seen them once in a museum in his hometown of Yugahama.

But that had been a long time ago, and he was a very long way from home. He hadn’t been back in over twenty years. A long, arduous journey as he scoured the earth on this seemingly impossible mission.

Finding the portal hadn’t been that difficult. Kaito had located it within the first five years. In the end, all he had to do was follow the Eastern star Slax into the Desolate Hinterlands.

The hard part, though, had been locating the artifacts that he needed to face these firey creatures that guarded and dwelt within these portals.

First, he had located FlameWard, his shield hidden deep within the firey caves of the Fergborg volcano.

Then he had tracked down Fire Casque, the helmet he had taken from the head of a troll at the summit of Basroy Mountains. It was said to protect its wearer from the most influential forms of mind control, including that of a dragon.

Along the way, he had captured NightWind in Eleychester. Well, more like stolen her from a farmer who had been raising her. But, Kaito didn’t think of himself as a thief. He simply freed it to live an adventurous life on the road with him.

And of course, she made his life more comfortable since he could get around faster. He reckoned that she had shaved at least three years off his journey while he searched for Blood Venom, the legendary spear that Shirō Shin Matsushita had used a few centuries earlier to kill Acidtooth, Destroyer Of Men.

What a story that was, Kaito thought to himself. And now to think that I will soon join the ranks of such legendary men. My people will sing names about me. When I return with a dragon’s egg and the king gives me the princess’ hand in marriage. I shall be the happiest man alive.

“I’ll show them all,” Kaito whispered through clenched teeth. “Then they’ll have to make me knight. I will prove that I am an honorable warrior.”

“Silly human,” the unicorn chuckled. “You don’t even know if there is a dragon’s egg. I bet you can’t even tell if that dragon is male or female.”

“Then, I’ll kill the dragon and take its head. I’ll prove that I am a valiant warrior.”

“Please,” the unicorn whinnied. “You haven’t trained or fought at all these years. You stole the things you have, betrayed those you took them from and killed anyone who stood in your way at night while they were fast asleep. Where is the honor in that?”

“Shut up, you stupid horse with a silly horn,” Kaito said has slammed the side of his fist into the back of her head. “Remember why you let me ride you.”

“Yes, I wish you would just complete your curse and kill me. Sometimes I’d rather be dead than to have to listen to all the baloney you spout off day and night.”

“I really do hate you too, stupid unicorn. I should have just left you back on that farm to plow that farmer’s fields instead of bringing you on the adventure of a lifetime. But we can’t undo the past, so let’s just keep moving forward.”

Night Wind threw her head down and took another step backward. Kaito angrily grabbed onto her mane with both hands and prepared for her to trying bucking him off as she usually did at least once a week. But she didn’t attempt to throw him this time.

Kaito sighed in silent frustration and slid down. He couldn’t wait till he was back in the city. A famous dragon egg hunter who had won the princess’ hand in marriage. Heir to the throne. And then he could own and ride normal horses that couldn’t argue with him nor talk back.

“Stay here then, but be ready to run if that dragon returns,” he growled.

The man tip-toed quietly forward to the portal, still scanning the skies for any sign of the giant, winged creatures return. He had been watching it for several weeks now.

The giant, black dragon typically stayed out for several hours before returning from its hunts. So, he wasn’t too worried yet. He should have another couple of hours to search for the eggs and make his escape. Kaito hoped to be long gone before it returned.

The glowing blue portal hummed softly as he walked toward it, but it began to pulse softly at a higher frequency when he passed through the entrance. The sound made him nervous, but he wasn’t about to turn back now.

Kaito found himself in a large, dark cave. The glow from the portal behind him reflected eerily on the walls surrounding him. As his eyes adjusted to the low light, he could see where a cave tunnel led upward out of this main hall.

He was worried about getting lost in here before finding any dragon eggs. Kaito knew he needed to hurry because he definitely didn’t want to have to come back here a second time.

A glitter of light caught his eye. He looked closer and caught his breath. Piles of gold and silver that the dragon had stolen from his people. Even he didn’t find any eggs, he could still fill his backpack with treasure and live like a king for the rest of his life.

Kaito had had enough adventure and traveling for a lifetime. And besides, it had been years since he had seen the princess. She had probably grown old and fat and ugly by now. He wouldn’t need to be heir to the throne if he had his own wealth.

He slid his backpack down and emptied the contents on the cave floor. Then began to stuff it full of gold and silver treasure. When it was full, he closed the bag carefully and tried to lift it. But it was too heavy. He could barely get it off the ground, and part of the seam started to pull away. It was an old bag that he had been using for years.

The man emptied about half of it and tried again. But it was still too heavy. So, he angrily pulled out more of the golden goodies. He would definitely be coming back with a better bag for carrying more of these riches out of here.

Kaito stood back up and struggled to get the backpack over his shoulders. He considered pulling out a bit more, just in case he had to make a run for it. But greed spoke louder than prudence and convinced him to keep what he had.

As he turned to leave, he caught sight of something else in a far corner of the cave. His eyes had adjusted better to the darkness, and even though he wasn’t a hundred percent sure, the forms he saw looked like eggs.

Kaito stepped forward and almost tripped over a pile of large bones. He had to pick his way through larger and higher piles until he made it back to the corner. He sucked in his breath with delight.

Four large dragon eggs lay before him on a soft pile of grass and leaves. He stepped forward and took just one.

It’s all I need to be rich and happy, he thought to himself. No need to be greedy. Leave the rest for the mother. Maybe the dumb, flying lizard won’t even notice one is missing. He bounced around in a gleeful dance. Then stepped on a bone and tripped.

Kaito almost dropped the egg but managed to keep his hold on it. He breathed a sigh of relief and quickly made his way to the portal door. When he stepped outside, Kaito had to blink several times for his eyes to adjust again to the light.

He looked around for Night Wind but didn’t see her. He looked behind him and saw her running for the forest.

“Hey, you stupid horse. Get back here!” Kaito yelled.

If he hadn’t been so angry, he would have laughed. He took great delight in humiliating the unicorn by comparing the creature to distant, dumber cousins.

He sighed and began to walk after her. Eventually, she would stop, and he would catch up to her. It was true that he had cursed her, but not in the way she thought. He wouldn’t ever do anything to kill or harm her.

It only caused her to feel more disoriented and nauseous the farther she got from him. But if she persisted far enough, that bond would be broken, and she really would be free. But since she didn’t know that, she always gave up and came back to him.

A loud roar erupted behind him, breaking through his thoughts. Kaito turned to see a dark speck in the sky, flying in his direction. His heart froze. He held on to the egg with one hand and slid the backpack off with the other. He tossed it to the ground and broke into a dead run.

The dragon roared again louder this time. Rapidly gaining on him. He turned for another look, and she was closing in on him with jaws wide open.

He swung Blood Venom from his shoulder and spun around to face her. She was close. Coming fast. She almost impaled herself on it but flung her massive body away at the last second.

Dakiderth, the Lady of Fire, was her name. At least that was what Night Wind had told him. But in the midst of this chaos, a strange thought crossed his mind. How did the unicorn know the dragon’s name? But he had no time to think of these things now. He would ask her later when the beast’s head was hanging on the wall of his royal bedroom back at the castle.

The dragon landed close, but just out of reach. She reared her head and hissed loudly. Kaito struck out at her with Blood Venom, his dragon-slaying spear. But it was a clumsy attempt with only one hand. He refused to set the egg down. It was his, and he wasn’t going to set it down.

She blocked it with her wing and knocked it to the side. Kaito pulled back and struck again. This time, the dragon blocked it and grabbed it away from him. She tried to snap it, but it was too well made. The giant, slithering reptile threw it to the ground and stepped over it.

Kaito held the egg in front of him like a hostage. FlameWard, his shield, had fallen off his back when he removed the backpack.

“Breathe fire at the peril of your own young, foul creature of darkness,” he screamed in anger and terror.

So, close and yet so far. Twenty years of searching. Here it was, right in front of him. Kaito couldn’t give up or quit now.

“Stand back, or else I’ll throw the egg to the ground. I’ll smash it to smithereens,” he screamed.

The dragon sat back on its haunches and watched him.

“That’s right, Mama! You better be scared. I’ll kill this little creep and make scrambled eggs for breakfast.”

The dragon hissed, and sparks flew out of its mouth and nostrils. Kaito jumped back and smashed into something. He stumbled and almost fell. When he caught himself and turned around, Night Wind was standing there.

“Yes! That’s what I’m talking about. When you’re on the winning team, everyone wants to be with you. Even your horse.” Kaito yelled gleefully.

“Where are you taking my egg?” the dragon asked softly.

“Like I’m really going to tell you, dummy. Do you think I’m that stupid.” Kaito screamed mockingly.

“We’re taking the egg back to the Reya Kingdom. King Gorō Yuuta has promised the princess’ hand in marriage to the human brave enough or stupid enough to bring him a dragon egg.”

The giant, black dragon hissed again as sparks mixed with flames flared with each breath.

“What?” Kaito asked dumbly, turning to look at the unicorn.

Her eyes were blank. She stared at Kaito unblinkingly. His heart sank. Night Wind wasn’t wearing a FireCasque like himself. She had no protection for her mind. The dragon was controlling her.

“Fine, I’ll give you the egg. You let us go.” Kaito whined.

The dragon didn’t say a word. He didn’t like the look in her eye. He didn’t have much hope of getting away. He needed to distract her.

Kaito wound up and threw the egg as far as he could off to the side. Then he turned and made a run for it across the field.

The egg was heavy and didn’t go far. The dragon caught it easily with her wings in midflight. It didn’t even break her mind control over the unicorn.

Night Wind turned around and wound up herself. Her back legs lashed out as Kaito ran past her. The unicorns sharp hooves caught him in the side. Cracking ribs that punctured his lungs. The man fell to the ground screaming in pain and misery. Coughing blood that filled his airways.

Dakiderth dragged Kaito back into her cave with one clawed hand while clutching her precious egg with the other.

“Sorry, to hurt your human, cousin,” the dragon growled to the unicorn.

Kaito leaned his head back for a final look at the unicorn as the dragon pulled him through the portal.

“Cousin? What? Was that why he had seen small scales on the unicorn’s body. Were dragons and unicorns somehow related?”

The Fire Casque slipped off his head as he went through the portal. Numbness and darkness soon overtook his mind.

Night Wind shook her head as the sense of sickness and nausea slipped away. She felt great for the first time in years. Not attached to this sick human. The unicorn was finally free. Well, for now anyway. At least until someone else tried to catch her.

She considered sticking around the Desolate Hinterlands where humans rarely came. But then decided against it. Who knew when a hungry mother dragon or young dragonling might pop out looking for a fat and sassy unicorn meal.

Nope. An elegant unicorn like herself could find another desolate place to live without creepy, mind-controlling dragons around.

Night Wind galloped off into the Forest of Hypnotic Flowers. She wondered if such flowers existed, or if humans under the dragon’s mind control had blamed some strange flower. She wished she had such power. It would be fun to play around with them when they were being cruel.

She stopped at the edge of the woods to get her bearings, then headed off to the West to get as far away from old King Gorō Yuuta and the Lyonhall Fortress. The unicorn didn’t want to be anywhere in that direction when Dakiderth flew out again to exact his revenge against the human who threatened her life and the life of her children.

It would be a long and bitter war between the dragon and humans. They would hunt her and her young ones down. She would attack their cities and plunder their treasures. But eventually, they would find her and win. It was just what humans did.

Nightwind finally came to a peaceful valley that teamed with life. She would settle down here. In time, she might eventually head out to find others of her kind. But for now, she just wanted to be alone and enjoy her freedom.

0

Crow Scare

“No! Please. Help! Somebody stop that thing before it kills us all,” Shivali Mneme screamed.

Atticus Perun spun around to see what all the fuss was about. His eyes scanned the crowded marketplace. The man’s sharp eyes spotted the queen on a small balcony in the Parandor Palace overlooking the entrance to the marketplace on Kings Street. 

The queen was dressed to kill as always in a light-blue, silk dress that perfectly complemented her creamy skin and long, golden tresses. 

She was young and beautiful. Too young for the king to have chosen for a second wife after he poisoned his first wife. It was common knowledge that there had been foul play involved in her death. 

But he was the king, and he had no heirs to rule in his stead. He wanted a younger woman, even though none of his counselors approved. Not even Atticus. They didn’t approve of someone young. And especially not of Shivali. 

The general consensus was that he should have chosen someone wiser and less frivolous to help him rule the land.

But he was the king, and sometimes it was good to be the king.

Atticus sighed and wondered what it was this time. The young queen was always full of drama. Throwing fits and tantrums. It was draining on everyone in the royal court. It was draining on Atticus. Always having to explain why she couldn’t do something or have her way. 

The king’s counselors knew it was especially draining on the king. Which wasn’t good for his nerves, especially in such trying times as these. There were so many important things to deal with. 

Threats from the Yunnavion to the south. War between Muilaris and Obonait Empires to the east. Hunger to the west as the smaller rivers of the Clinlam Tributary

dried up. Rumors of dragon attacks coming from the Arnwich Mountains to the north. 

And yet, half of their meetings were spent dealing with queen’s latest antics. Trying to figure out ways to help the king smooth things over. Not that Atticus thought the king should.

If it were up to Atticus, he would have invoked the Law of the Line on her. But King Silvius was too much of a pushover. He let the queen get away with murder. Which was really weird because the king wasn’t like that in any other area of ruling his kingdom. 

He didn’t have any problems laying down the law. Killing a disobedient or sloppy servent before breakfast never curbed his appetite. But when it came to the queen, King Silvius acted like a silly schoolboy who had just fallen in love.

Some whispered that it was because the king felt guilty over his first wife’s death. Others thought the queen had placed a spell on him. 

Atticus pushed his way through the swarming crowds who began to gather in small groups. He finally made his way to the entrance and rounded the corner of Pearl Avenue. And what he saw made his blood run cold. 

“A devil of crows,” someone whispered in awe. 

It was a lay person’s description, of the large skeletal face and hands that floated up Pearl Avenue in their direction. And it was surrounded by thousands of crows that formed the monster’s body. Hundreds more circled around it as it moved toward them.

“Wraalic Cthiuciu,” Atticus whispered hoarsely. 

He had only heard the stories from his grandmother as a child. His mother tried to dissuade her from telling the boy those tales. But every once in awhile, when he was alone with Granny Venere, Atticus would beg her to tell him more.

“Stand your ground and fight! For tonight we feast on crow!” Atticus heard Cicero Pericles, the captain of the king’s guard shouting over the screams of the crowd that was beginning to flee in terror. 

Atticus turned to flee himself. There was no way mere mortals could defeat this foul creature with sword and spears if his grandmother’s stories were true. And up till now, he thought this monster was a thing of fairy tales. 

Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of a lone figure standing between himself and the Wraalic. Atticus hadn’t even seen where the person came from. At first he thought it was a man wearing a long, flowing black cape that swirled out and around his body in the wind. But then Atticus saw a single, long braid snapping and whipping in the wind. 

Was it a woman?

She had a long staff in her hands that she stretched out to the side. As she waved the staff in the wind, a long light blue hue began to leak off the end of the staff. Atticus watched in fascination as stood calmly in the Wraalic’s path to give her power time to grow. 

And then finally, she released the ball of light-blue energy from the end of the staff. It arced up out towards the Wraalic’s raven chest. But the shot didn’t even phase the creature. If anything, it only angered it because a flock of raven’s shot out in her direction. Attacking her mercilessly from all sides.

The Wraalic continued coming up the street as if it were oblivious to the birds below it. It passed right over the lone person who tried to stop it. 

Atticus looked back where he had last seen Cicreo and his band of brave warriors. But they were nowhere to be seen. Had they fled or been carried off by a band of crows. It wasn’t like the King’s Guard to flee from a good fight, even when the odds were stacked against them. 

When he looked up, he was shocked to see the queen still standing on the balcony watching the Wraalic progress up the street. The king was screaming at her and trying to pull her back inside the castle. But he was old and frail. She was young and strong. 

Something didn’t seem quite right about this scene. It just seemed off somehow. Atticus couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He backed away down the street he had come and slid into a small alley out of sight where he could still keep an eye on the queen. 

The wise counselor watched as King Silvius screamed for his servants to come help them. He swore up a blue streak and threatened to have them all decapitated for abandoning him. The king begged and pleaded for the queen to come with him. But she didn’t budge.

The giant Wraalic floated up to the edge of the balcony. It reached out its hand toward them. Ravens and crows descended around the king and queen. 

It was a dark blur, and Atticus couldn’t be one hundred percent sure, but it looked like the queen pushed the king over the edge of the balcony in the confusion.

Atticus watched in horror as the king toppled over the edge of the parapet and tumbled through the crows till he hit the ground. It felt good to see some of the Wraalic’s crows getting squashed in the fall. But it was a small win. The horror of watching King Silvius’ body hit the ground was gutwrenching.

Suddenly, a blue light streaked out of the surrounding chaos of crows and burst on the Wraalic’s back before it could pick up the queen. 

He looked, but Atticus couldn’t tell where they were coming from. The mass of swirling crows blocked his view. Then there was another blast and then another. Each blast knocked dozens of crows out of the air. 

Atticus couldn’t tell if they were dead or just stunned, but it was a small victory none the less. The blasts came stronger and faster. Each blast knocked more crows out of the sky. After half-a-dozen blasts, the remaining crows scattered and flew off. The Wraalic stood silent and unmoving as if it had lost its power.  

One final blast aimed at its ugly, bony head found its mark. And the entire creature disappeared into thin air. All that remained to remind that that what they had seen was real, were the carcasses of blackbirds scattered along the road. 

The crowds roared to life and rushed back out into the street to crush the life out of any foul fowl that still happened to be fluttering or even breathing.

They cheered as they gathered around the mage with the staff that shot blue energy to destroy the Wraalic. They held her up over their heads and carried her victoriously through the city and held a great feast in her honor. 

Zrele Ghelli was her name. She was given great honor by the queen. 

Everyone honored the king with a great funeral procession. They mourned him like they did any royalty they were obliged to. But not because they missed him terribly. Even Atticus didn’t miss him much. 

The king’s brother was a much more sensible man. And they no longer had to spend half their meetings discussing how to deal with the queen. They were able to focus their attention on much more important matters. 

Well, there was one last thing they had to deal with. That was the fit that the queen threw when she found out that she wasn’t going to inherit the throne after King Silvius’ death. 

It was easy for Atticus to convince the board to change a few laws. The Council of the Chosen were only too happy to pass a law that would keep Shivali away from themselves. 

And the people, of course, didn’t really care one way or the other who sat on the throne as long as they had food to eat and plenty of entertainment to keep them occupied. 

Shivali, of course, had a few choice words for Atticus when she found out that he was responsible for her losing the crown. She issued a few not-so subtle threats. 

“I saw you push the king over the edge of the balcony,” he said. 

“You can’t prove it,” she replied. 

“I also don’t think there ever really was a Wraalic. You only created an illusion to get what you wanted.”

She smiled wanly and shrugged, “Magic is only an illusion. It’s in the trickery of making others see what you want. Then there is no need for a direct confrontation.”

“I always thought that the king killed his first wife to be with you, but I’m beginning to think that this was all your doing. Part of your plan all along.”

“You can’t prove it,” she replied with another shrug.

“Well, I’ve got my eye on you, Shivali. I’ll be watching you closely.”

“Well, then watch me closely because my plan is still in motion. I will yet be queen and sit on that throne whether you like it or not. Even if it means that I have to get rid of you to bring it to pass.”

Now it was Atticus’ turn to smile. She was much smarter than any of them ever gave her credit for in spite of her young age. If she was that formidable of a foe, he might have to recommend that she sit in on some of their Council Meetings. She might just be able to provide some valuable insight and creative solutions to the problems the kingdom was facing.  

Thank you for reading this short story. I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know if you want me to write more of this story. If so, tell me which characters or ideas intrigued you in the comments below. If you are an English student, feel free to ask about any vocabulary words or expressions that you didn’t understand. 

0

Raining Fire

Jenkins slowed his pace when he reached the flames licking up from the floor. Even through the thick protection of his gear, the heat was almost unbearable. He held up his hand for the rest of the team to slow down.

“You’re up, Blakely,” he whispered into the mic.

Another figure stepped up beside him. He couldn’t see her beautiful face through the mask, but he could sense the violent chemist’s determination to capture Garfield Cook in each quick sure movement. Dead or alive. This was it. The closest they had ever come. They almost had him this time.

He checked the safety on his gun and scanned the room for any sign of his nemesis. His red laser cut through the smoke and flames while he covered Blakely so she could do her thing and put out the flames.

She had been preparing for this confrontation for years. Ever since the mad, fire monger had assassinated her family back in Tulsa. It had been easy to convince her to join them in their hunt for Cook.

They had been chasing him for the past two years unsuccessfully. Frustrated as their rival always seemed to stay two steps ahead of them. But not today. They had him. And soon, they would unmask him and put an end to his charade.

Blakely finished her preparations and tossed her weapons into the flames. She called them flame suppressors. It was something she had invented to put out the violent fires that Cook started.

They had almost caught him two other times. The flame suppressors had saved their lives both times. This time they had been more prepared and were farther along than ever. This could be it. Third times a charm, Jenkins thought to himself.

“Turn on your oxygen, boys. Flames are gone in three, two, one.” Blakely crooned into their earpieces.

Jenkins felt more than heard a low thump deep in his bones when the flame suppressors went off. Sucking up the air in the room, the fire died down almost immediately.

Some of the hotter sections caught fire again as oxygen seeped back into the room. Flames licked up once again around them, but it wasn’t even one-tenth as hot it had been just a few seconds previously.

Jenkins could see the outlines of his other team members pressing in around him from the light of the flames that were rising once again. There was a crash to their right that made them all jump. Jenkins spun around. His red laser beam cutting through the smoke. But it was merely one of the overhead walkways that twisted and bent in the extreme heat and had fallen.

He turned back and continued to press through the flames. He could see several of his soldiers surrounding someone. As he came closer and his eyes adjusted to the darkness and flickering flames, Jenkins realized it was a couple.

He couldn’t see the man’s face because he wore a mask as they did, but the woman did not.

“Garfield Cook! You’re surrounded. Let the woman go and come peacefully with us.”

The man and woman looked at each other for a long moment. Then the woman stretched out her hand toward them. Her hand burst into flame and grew brighter.

“Stand down, woman,” Jenkins yelled over the comm and held up his hand for his men not to shoot.

“Blakely, prepare to suppress the flames. Cole, can you contain her?”

“Working on it, sir,” Cole replied.

Jenkins didn’t know where Cole had come from, but he definitely wasn’t normal at all. His file was classified, and Jenkins hadn’t been allowed to access it. All he had been told was that Cole could suppress most mutant abilities.

The woman’s eyes blazed, and she screamed as she held out her hand in their direction. But the flame on her hand didn’t increase in size or heat as she seemed to expect. Slowly, it diminished and flickered out. She screamed in anger and fury once again.

“I’m sorry, love. I can’t do anything. I guess this is it. I love you.”

She reached out and took his hand lovingly. Tears streamed down her face.

Jenkins nodded for the men to move in and make the arrest. The men were nervous about it, but Captain had given strict orders for them to be brought in alive if at all possible.

“Go,” Cook whispered to the woman, “I’ll cover you.”

“No, love. Please, don’t do this,” she whispered back.

The soldiers paused.

“Take them down, boys,” Jenkins hissed. “Cole, contain him.”

“I got ’em, boss.”

The soldiers pressed in. But it was too late. A bright blue ball of light burst up in front of Cook. Jenkins glanced over at Cole to see if he could stop it.

Cole was shaking like a leaf. His outstretched arms trembled wildly.

His rival, Cook, vibrated as well, but the blue ball of light didn’t stop growing. He pulled the woman by the arm toward him and shoved her violently into the blue ball.

Jenkins realized that Cole was unable to stop Cook from doing his thing.

“Fire,” Jenkins ordered.

Bullets blazed around the room. Lighting up everyone’s uniform. Jenkins could see his men’s eyes in the reflections of muzzle fire from the weapons.

Cook’s body trembled and jerked wildly as the bullets riddled his body. The soldiers stopped firing when he fell to his knees and slumped forward.

The ball of blue light disappeared. Darkness consumed them once again. It took a moment for Jenkin’s eyes to adjust to the darkness once again. The only light came from the pale flames that still flickered around them.

It took a second for him to get over his blindness from the flash of the guns. But when he did, the woman was nowhere to be seen. Only Cook lay there gasping for his final breath.

“Where’s the woman. She must have slipped off in the darkness. Find her.” Jenkins barked into the comm.

“She’s gone, sir,” Cole replied. “He created a portal for her to escape.”

“What are you talking about?” Jenkins growled. “A portal to where?”

“Only he knows the answer to that. But I don’t think he was ever our Fire Monger in the first place.”

“He’s the one that killed my family,” Blakely yelled.

Cole shook his head. “He didn’t have that power. He had no fire essence in him. The only ability he has is to open portals to other places.”

“I saw him on the tapes before everything went up in flames,” she screamed.

“Uh, hmmm. Most likely, Cook became the face of the attacks to protect her from ever being seen. We just happened to get lucky and see them here together. Otherwise, we would have killed him thought it was over. And she would still be out there carrying on her attacks.”

Blakely stormed off. Jenkins angrily kicked a bit of burning debris that happened to be in front of him. It smacked into Cook, still lying on the floor. He groaned raspily.

Jenkins realized he was still alive and kneeled down beside him. Pulled off his mask and grabbed him by the lapels.

“Where did you send the woman? And what was the point of all this?”

“We came to protect humanity from the Vioth’ito,” he wheezed “Melantha and I were the only ones who stood in their way. Unless you convince her to continue the fight, you’re on your own.”

“Where did you send her?” Cole roared as he dropped to his knees beside Jenkins and shook the dying man violently.

“All that remains of me are blood and bones,” Cook whispered with his final, gasping breath.

But it was no use. Cook no longer breathed. Jenkins pushed Cole away.

“It’s no use, man. He’s gone.” Jenkins said softly. “Who are the Vioth’ito?”

Cole didn’t answer. Jenkins asked again.

“Death incarnate,” Cole finally replied. “I’ve heard of them but thought they were only a myth. But if Cook is right and the stories are true, then we are all doomed.”

Cole stood up and walked away. He refused to talk about it any more as if speaking of this great evil would somehow attract them.

Jenkins gathered up his men and prepared for extraction with Cook’s body. He needed answers, and he wasn’t going to find them here. He needed a higher level of security access to find the answers he needed.

Who was Cook? Who was Cole? And who were the Vioth’ito?

He wouldn’t stop until he got his answers.

“Where did Cole go?” Jenkins asked Blakely.

“He said something about going out to look for someone named Melantha.”

Thanks for reading this short story. I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know in the comments belove if this is a story that you would like me to write more about. Which characters interest you the most? What concepts or ideas intrigue you?

0

Night Fight

This is a short story that ties in with the Thorgaut of NorthWorld series. Book 1 is up on my Amazon Author page already. This story is written ahead in the storyline as I play around with some ideas for who the Villains are and what they want. In this story specifically, we focus on Steingrimer, King of the NightWalkers. 

A howl echoed off the clouds hanging low in the sky. Rainer could smell the foul stench of the creature before he heard or saw it. His heart pounded. 

Suddenly, the putrid figure of ash and heat materialized out of the darkness before him. Steingrimer. King of the NightWalkers. The imposing figure seemingly floating before him. A long, tattered red cape whipping and snapping hauntingly in the wind.

Rainer’s legs felt like jelly. Only a few nights ago, he had laughed when the old crone told him the stories about this foul creature. And now, here he stood. Face to face with the king of the undead armies now sweeping through NorthWorld.

Two empty eyes stared back at him with a wicked furor, and a low, deep growl rumbled in pleasure as it looked around at the evil army that surrounded them. 

A shock of black hair struck a stark contrast on the silvery pale skull that sat atop its tall, sinewy body. With each breath, a plume of smoky shadow escaped the creature’s hollow nostrils set within its burly bone head.

Runes and emblems, glowing brightly, covered parts of its torso, but Rainer didn’t want to look closer to inspect this thing any further. He closed his eyes for a moment, hoping that he would wake up from this dream. Hoping that Steingrimer would no longer be there. Rainer could still feel the warm stench of its breath though. 

When he opened his eyes again, the creature continued to gaze at him from the dull, piercing blackness of the cadaverous hollows where its eyes had once shined.

The NightWalker moved closer to him, its long legs seemed to be floating over the ground as it walked fluidly carrying its harrowing energy.  It looked upon him with a horrible grimace on its face.

Steingrimer took several floating steps forward until it stood just before Rainer. It reached out a long bony finger and touched his cheek gently. Almost lovingly, as if caressing a loved one that it hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Welcome, human,” Steingrimer rasped hoarsely. “I have heard much of your exploits here in NorthWorld. It has been many years since anyone has heard such amazing tales of valor from a human. Fear not. I will not harm you. You will feel no pain. By the time of the next full moon, you will be as one of us. Then, with your new strength and abilities, you will do even greater exploits than these. And one day, you will lead this army in my stead.”

Rainer cocked his head to the side like he had no idea what the King of the NightWalkers was talking about. 

“Sorry, pal. I think you’re confusing me with somebody else. I just got here. I was at home in my bed, fast asleep. And one of those things there opened a portal into my room, grabbed me by the leg, and dragged me here against my will.” 

Steingrimer hissed angrily. His hair bristled straight out in all directions. The dark hollows of what were now his eyes silently bore into the human before him. Both beings remained completely still. Frozen in time. Watching each other. The only thing that continued to move in the night was its dark red cape. 

The undead king floated in a step closer. The stench of his rotting body was overpowering. Rainer took a deep breath and held it as long as he could before letting it out slowly. That wasn’t very smart because then he felt out of breath and had to take a gulp of air to replace it. It was all he could do not to gag. 

Steingrimer’s nose was close enough for him to touch. It was the only thing that made the undead monster still look human. Although it protruded up from his face at an angle. But it was nice because Steingrimer didn’t have a hole in the middle of his skull like most of the walking dead cadavers around here. 

Rainer wanted to reach out and squeeze it to find out if his nose was real or if it was some sort of prosthetic. But the human held his arms stiffly at his side and turned his face away slightly from Steingrimer.

He waited for the giant corpse to take another step forward. His legs felt weak as the monster siphoned off his energy. Rainer could almost see the aura leaving his body in faint whisps. An overwhelming urge to puke overcame Rainer, but he had to control himself. 

“Fear not human. Your flesh is weak. Soon you will be powerful like me because you will not depend on strength that comes from your flesh. Your strength will come from deep within. It will come from an eternal core that I will give you.”

Rainer couldn’t hold back the laughter in spite of his weakness and in spite of the creature’s proximity. Steingrimer floated back a step and demanded to know what was so funny. 

“You miss having flesh. Don’t you. You touched my cheeks earlier because you still wish you had it yourself. You don’t fool me. I know that you would trade your power in a heartbeat to have your flesh back. Well, if you had a heartbeat, that is.”

The darkness in the empty hollows of the Nightwalker’s skull narrowed and intensified in fury. The rasp in his breathing deepened, and a rumble rose up in his throat. 

“Take care what you say, human. There are worse things that I could do to you than to allow you to become as we are and join our ranks in battle.” 

Steingrimer took a step forward. The runes and emblems on his chest began to intensify and glow brighter. Rainer felt his body growing weaker. The NightWalker reached out and took Rainer’s face in his hands to pull him forward.

The human waited until the last possible second to reach under his shirt for NightBlade. He could feel the grip of the weapon wrapped in dull, black deerskin. He wrapped his fingers just below the curved cross-guard that led to the short, narrow, straight blade made of black crystal for such an occasion as this. 

NightBlade had one sharp edge to cut and slice. The other was thick and solid. Perfect for defending oncoming attacks. But tonight, Rainer knew he wouldn’t be strong enough or fast enough to stand up to the NightWalker. 

His attack had to be quick and sure. A single strike was all he would have time for. Rainer was careful to keep his fingers away from the blade. Careful not to slice himself. A single cut was all that was needed to bleed his energy completely and utterly. 

Rainer squeezed his hand tighter. He could feel the deer’s head etched into the pommel. A reminder of Halldora’s assurance that this was the right tool for the right job. The one thing that could kill a monster like Steingirmer. 

If he failed to defeat the undead king, Rainer knew he would have to kill himself to avoid being transformed into one of these monsters himself. He most likely would anyway since Steingrimer was already beginning the process of sucking out his soul and replacing his soon empty vessel with whatever it was that fueled these mad NightWalkers. 

Rainer swiped NightBlade from under his shirt and pushed it behind Steingrimer to try and keep it out of his peripheral vision till it was too late. The human flipped the knife up and around so that the blade was pointed in. Then brought it up towards the Nightwalker’s exposed neck just above the protection of his armor. 

But just before the tip of the knife struck its skin, Steingrimer’s hand stopped Rainer’s wrist. A wicked smile crossed his face, exposing his large, bony teeth. He twisted the blade from the human’s grasp and threw his body back across the grass. 

Rainer landed on his back in the grass and skidded to a stop. He scrambled weakly to his feet and tried to stand before Steingrimer reached him. Rainer’s heart sank. He had failed to kill the NightWalker and failed to kill himself before he was transformed. 

“Sneaky trick, human. One that would make any NightWalker proud. If I had any doubts that you would make a fine member of our ranks, this has removed them all.” 

Just as Steingrimer stepped forward to float in his direction, there was a flash of light. A portal burst open beside Rainer, and a familiar figure leaped out in his direction with fire in her hands. 

Halldora launched a fistful of sparks and flames in Steingrimer’s direction. But he easily dodged it by flipping backward and floating out of the way. Thorgaut leaped through the portal behind her and launched fistfuls of fireballs at the hoards of NightWalkers that rushed them. 

The disgusting monsters quickly burst into flaming balls of fire that ran madly around in circles lighting their fellow NightWalkers. Steingrimer began screaming for them to back away before the whole army burst into flame. He separated the packs of NightWalkers that could get away while sacrificing the ones that he knew were already lost. 

Thorgaut and Halldora took advantage of the confusion to race to Rainer’s side and help him hobble through the portal. After pushing Rainer through, they turned back and launched fireball after fireball in Steingrimer’s direction. A few came close, but none of the blows were solid enough to stick. Unlike the others of his kind, the NightWalker king didn’t burst into flame. 

They kept it up as long as they could, but soon grew weaker. It was impossible to hit Steingrimer, and the other NightWalkers stayed out of the reach of their fireballs. 

Halldora closed the portal down after they leaped through, while Thorgaut helped Rainer to his feet. He realized that they were back in the safety of the castle for now, but it wouldn’t be long before Steingrimer came up with a way to protect the NightWalkers from fire. Then it would be game over for all of them. 

“I’m sorry,” Rainer whispered hoarsely. “I wasn’t fast enough to even nick his skin.”

Halldora sponged his face off with a crisp, soothing mix of water and herbs. She smiled knowingly and glanced up at Thorgaut.

“We never expected you to actually kill him with that knife. Especially not with that new armored protection covered in runes that he wears. It would have held his energy in and healed him immediately even if you had managed to cut him.” Thorgaut rumbled in his deep voice from across the room where he was pouring a goblet of scented wine.

Rainer sat up, angrily, “What? You sent me in there knowing it was pointless?”

Thorgaut walked across the room and handed him the goblet. 

“We need him to think that was the reason we sent you and make him believe that was the NightBlade. Now, he’ll wear it, and we can track him wherever he goes. And when we’re ready to really attack, we’ll have a direct connection to portal in right where he is at.”

Rainer scowled but drank the wine anyway. Then lay back down. He didn’t like feeling that he was a pawn in their game, but everyone around here seemed to be a pawn in someone else’s game. He didn’t know where one game started and another ended. 

“So, what’s going to happen to me? Am I going to be a full-blooded NightWalker by time the next full moon comes around?”

 “Steingrimer did a real number on you, but I’ll do my best to stop it,” Halldora said confidently. 

“Yeah, and all we have to do is kill Steingrimer before then. You should be fine.”  Thorgaut said.

“Just kill Steingrimer,” Rainer mumbled. “That’s easier said than done. But right now, I’m happy to still be alive. Thank you for pulling me out of there in time.”

This was the end of this short story because I don’t want to give away too much. I’m playing around with the Thorgaut storyline to see where we can take the upcoming series. If you like the concept, let me know in the comments. Your feedback lets me know which stories to invest more time on. Thanks for reading.  

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Warblade of Ballara

Strogoben stood before the cave entrance. Preparing himself mentally for the greatest challenge of his life. Something he had prepared for ever since he was a young child. He stood there silently. Breathing deeply. Taking in everything he could gather with his five senses and more.

They had been sharp enough to help him survive ever since beginning his journey to locate Venomshank, the Warblade of Ballara. His quest had begun many moons ago when he first arrived in Dysheimr.

Those who pointed the way had indicated the entrance at the Chambers of the Golden Raven. From there he had made his way down through the Haunt of the Thunder Giant. Struggling to find his way through the Maze of Destruction. And finally coming out through The Screaming Tunnels. And now he had arrived. His final destination.

The Lair of Vor’onuuth who was known among men as The Flames of Darkness.

If his sources were correct, this was where he would find the Warblade.

After catching his breath, Strogoben pressed forward through a portal that had been revealed only after releasing a burst of flames underneath it. It was designed that way so that only the dragonkin and those who could control fire might pass through.

Strogoben stepped through into the foreboding environment that awaited him. This one completely different from the previous he had encountered when stepping rough the Portal of the Golden Raven.

The air was dry and hot here. Bright strobes of light blinded him. Strogoben could feel his lungs burn with every breath. It was a harsh world. Reminding him of the desert he had traveled through as a child after the Jooppi tribe had wiped out his people and taken him captive.

There they had trained him to fight. Taught him magic and how to use the elements. Preparing him to take down small dragons in the desert single-handly. The Joopi had known his people were descended from the dragonkin. They wiped out the adults but kept all the small children alive.

Strogoben had been no more than seven when they had captured him. They loved his skills and abilities. The Joopi people had admired him. The chief had treated Strogoben like a pet though. Locking him in chains and using whips to keep him in line.

The chief had depended on his mage’s magic as well to keep the young boy obedient. But they hadn’t been enough to keep him down. He was careful to watch and observe everything the mage did.

He practiced and experimented at night on his own. When he grew strong enough, Strogoben broke free. Wreaked his revenge on the tribe of nomads who had destroyed his family. Strogoben had burned them all with fire. Battling their own mage had been no easy feat. But he did it. He had freed himself.

From there, Strogoben set out on his own. He had continued practicing and improving his skills over the years. And eventually, he had settled down in the region just south of Dysheimr. There he kept his skills a secret. Rarely using them.

Strogoben had lived their peacefully, planting a farm, and even taking a wife. He had married a beautiful young woman named Freygerd Styrbiorndottir.

But before they were married a year, the land had come under attack by the fire gnomes. They swept through taking cattle and sheep. Burning crops and destroying the farms as they went. Occasionally even taking humans as well.

And that was when they had taken Freygerd with them.

Strogoben was devastated. He spent weeks searching for the fire gnomes without luck. The burning trails they left behind all disappeared at the river they used to escape.

After searching high and low across the land, he came across an old priest who mentioned someone that might be able to help him.

Vor’onuuth. Part human. Part dragon. Part giant. Created by the engineers, he had escaped and wreaked havoc in the lower realms. Eventually, locked away and unable to return to the surface. The dangerous path to find Vor’onuuth, served just as much to keep him in as to keep others out.

Strogoben was willing to make the journey. Not to meet Vor’onuuth. What he really wanted was this Venomshank. An ancient weapon once left behind by the Engineers responsible for the dragonkin.

It had been lost after the great war by Strogoben’s ancestor who ruled the land. Strogoben had heard the stories and legends as a child. Those descended from the Dragonkin who had enough skill and power could wield the Warblade. Using it control any of the fire-based creatures under the Warblade’s command.

Strogoben hoped to use it to locate the fire gnomes and find his wife.

According to the priest though, the Warblade hadn’t been lost. It had actually been taken by the engineers. Some said they removed it from their game because it was too powerful of a weapon. Others said that they had locked it away with Vor’onuuth for safekeeping until such a time as one worthy to carry the blade should be able to take it from him. It was the Engineers way of leveling up the game and increasing the difficulty.

The village chieftain had been excited to hear that Strogoben would attempt to locate the Warblade. He gave the young man all the supplies the warrior could carry.

“The outer farms have come under attack, I’m sure we’ll be next to receive a beating by those brutes. I appreciate anything you can do to save us and stop those nasty gnomes. I’m in no state to fight, but I know you’ll manage without me. Please, take care of those gnomes for my people. I will give you anything you want, even up to half of the land I rule if you can find a way to stop their rampage.”

And so had begun Strogoben’s quest to find the warblade and stop the evil fire gnomes. That had been at least five moons ago. It was hard to keep track down here. He had crossed two different portals and had no idea if moons here were the same back in Dysheimr.

Strogoben had little hope of ever finding his wife, but he refused to let go of the idea that someday, somewhere, he would find Freygerd. Yet here he was, he had finally made it to the entrance of Vor’nuuth’s lair.

His heart thumped loudly. Partially with the excitement of being so close to finding the Warblade to find his wife and also from the nervousness of not knowing what danger he was about to face to achieve it.

Strogoben’s short, dark hair hung clumsily over his round, time-worn face. Bloodshot gray eyes, set wickedly within their sockets, watch warily for danger.

His freckles spread beautifully across his cheeks and forehead. Leaving a bittersweet memory of his adventurous love life with Freygerd many weeks ago. He was tall compared to most of those who lived around him. He had a light frame but was wiry and well-muscled from his years of preparation and formation.

People found him alluring. Perhaps it was his presence or perhaps simply the feeling of anguish after his wife’s kidnapping. But nonetheless, people tend to hit it off with him, while treating him to a good meal when he’s around.

Strogoben prided himself on what he called charm, wits, and good looks, as he had always joked about with Freygerd. But here in this dungeon where he was headed, Strogoben knew that it would take more than that. He would need more than charm and good looks to weasel a prized Warblade out of a dragon.

Strogoben came to a wide pair of granite doors in a small sultry grove. They marked the entrance down into the dungeon below. He continued through them cautiously. Beyond the doors lay a narrow, timeworn room at the bottom of the stairs. It was covered in mawt droppings, rubble, and large bones.

He could see remnants of what once must’ve been a mess hall of sorts, battered and wrecked by time itself.

Strogoben pressed on through till he came to two tunnels. He sensed that the right was a dead end. He didn’t know how he knew it exactly, but he did. He had learned to trust his instincts long ago in the desert where it was often a matter of life or death. Survival belonged to the fittest and the smartest. Rarely giving second chances to those who failed to get it right the first time.

The twisted trail continued to lead downwards and soon he entered an eerie area filled with tombs. Their owners were no longer in their graves where they belonged but had been dragged out and spread across the floor.

“What happened in this place?” Strogoben thought to himself.

He cautiously proceeded onwards, deeper into the dark shadows. He passed dozens of similar rooms and passages, each with their own twists, turns, and destinations. But eventually, Strogoben made it to what he thought was the final room.

An immense granite door blocked his path. Various odd symbols were scratched into it, somehow untouched by time and the elements. He stepped closer to inspect it and listened quietly. It seemed as if he could hear a scratching sound coming from behind the door.

Strogoben pulled his dragon-skinned jacket closer around him. He had purchased it brand-new in the market before leaving on his journey. And then had an old dragon mage etch protective runes into the scales and a large protective sigil on the back.

But now it was tattered and threadbare. Barely tied together with some old string he had picked up to replace the buttons that had long since fallen off in his runs through the tunnels to escape the grey cave mawts and in his struggles against the Aracni’s that often attacked while he slept.

The jacket had a wide, round neckline which reveals part of the worn-out yellow shirt below it. And over that a faded black belt, which was tied everything together. The belt had initially been bought on a whim to as an accessory to the rest of his look, based on the recommendation of the pretty young saleswoman at the market.

But now, they were absolutely necessary to holding up his pants since he had lost much weight on the journey. With little time to find and prepare food along with the extra exercise, Strogoben had returned back to the lean, ripped form he possessed in the desert before softening up during his good life at Dysheimr.

His pants were still in good shape, all things considered. They were simple and of a comfortable fit. Reaching down to his bound cloth shoes. The shoes were made from an unusual cloth that wasn’t dragonskin. But the shoemaker demonstrated to him that they were fireproof as well. Other than that though, his shoes looked no different from any other shoes he could have bought at the market.

Strogoben tightened his belt around his waist and the shoes around his feet. He wanted to be ready to face whatever creature lay behind those doors. Vor’nuuth or not.

He slid his shield down off his back. Strogoben affectionately called it Eclipse. He had taken it from an enemy who had challenged him in the desert. He had looked for another shield to replace it, but had never found anything this good.

It was an impressive round shield made from ironbark that offered stalwart cover against arrows and bolts. Extremely strong because it was forged by lunar dragonkin in a storm workshop. The shield’s edges embellished with spikes and decorated with metalwork emblems of victory and personal accomplishments at the center. It’s clear this shield has seen glory and victory. Dints and dents made by who knows what. But one thing is sure, this shield isn’t done serving just yet.

In the end, Strogoben decided to just keep it and stop looking for another shield. Once he found out where it had been made, he tracked down the old lunar dragonkin blacksmith that had made it and requested a matching sword. It was a long, strong blade that had served him well over the years.

The young man shook himself off and stepped forward to figure out how to open the door. It opened instantly without him even having to raise a finger. That was surprising since most of the others had required the activation of a rune or resolving of a puzzle before he could pass.

Strogoben quickly leaped off to the side, in case any foul creature came charging through. But there was only silence. He couldn’t see much past the threshold. It was pitch black. Even for his eyes. And that was because Strogobend’s eyes were powerful enough to walk through caves and tunnels without needing to light a torch.

He waited for a few seconds, but when nothing else happened, he stepped through. The impression that he had was of something or someone actively absorbing all of the light in the room. It was the strangest sensation. Then he remembered the name of the creature.

Vor’nuuth, also known as the Flames of Darkness.

Strogobend had assumed that it was simply a name given by storytellers and adventurers seeking to embellish their stories. But now that he was here, he realized that the name fit perfectly.

He sucked his breath in short shallow gasps. The heat was intense. Not enough to burn him yet. But still enough to make him uncomfortable even in his dragon skin clothing and flameproof shoes. He could sense the protective sigil on his back being activated as designed to do if he got into a firefight with a dragon. He sensed the familiar hum of energy as it began to glow.

The glow was enough to light up the area immediately surrounding him. But even that was dulled and faded at more than a few feet away from him.

Strogoben took a few more steps deeper into the darkness. He heard a loud hiss off to his left and paused. Something rustled in the darkness. Then the sound of muttering as if someone were awakening from a deep slumber. There was a small clink and rattle as it moved around.

He couldn’t see what was there and what was coming, so he ducked down to make himself smaller in case it tried to target him. He raised his shield in front of him. There were several more whispers and rattles. Then the room fell silent again.

After a few moments, he took another step forward. A loud voice challenged him from the darkness.

“Who goes there? And what do you want?”

Strogoben leaped back and spread his arms out as he crouched low once more.

“Hurry up, I tell you. I don’t have all day. There’s no sense in sneaking around. I can see you just fine.”

The man stood up and straightened his clothing with his sword hand. He bowed stiffly even though he couldn’t tell exactly which direction the voice was coming from as it boomed loudly all around him and echoed off the walls of the dungeon.

Strogoben cleared his throat before answering.

“Hello there! How are you? I’m quite fine thank you. It’s a great pleasure to meet you. Even though I can’t see you.” he shouted out.

His voice didn’t boom loudly like the others. It sounded rather weak and hollow. Even after he tried to deepen it toward the end.

“Oh, right? Excuse my rudeness,” Vor’nuuth replied with as rasp somewhere between a snicker and a growl. “Where are my manners? Oh, yeah. I do that so people who walk in with their sword drawn and shield up ready for battle can’t attack me.”

“That’s quite understandable,” Strogoben replied a little ashamed of himself. “It’s just that I heard something scratching the door. I didn’t want it rushing out to attack me unaware.”

“That was one of my pets. I pulled it out of the way and tied it up to keep it from escaping as soon as I heard the door opening. But don’t you think it’s a bit rude to just walk into my home without knocking? What do you think would happen if you walked into a human home unannounced and their dog bit you because they didn’t know that you were coming over. Would it be their fault for not warning them or theirs for not tying it up?”

“Yes, I do see your point,” Strogoben said with a weak laugh. “Sorry, I should have knocked. I just didn’t know where to announce my coming. The door swung open automatically.”

“Hmm! I wondered how you got in so fast. I’ve never had anyone break through before, although many have tried. I do suppose that means you are here for the Warblade then as most who make the journey down here. Eh?”

“You are so wise and intelligent, great Vor’nuuth,” he said using his old tactic of buttering up the Joopi as they thrived off it.

“Oh, come on. Don’t think I’m going to fall for that malarkey now. Do you? You don’t even know me and you come barging in her talking like that, it’s obviously not true.” Vor’nuuth growled. “So, state your case and tell me why I should hand over Warblade.”

That last part took Strogoben back a bit. He hadn’t expected to just walk in and ask for it, much less have the creature just hand it over.”

“So, how many others have made it down here?” he asked.

“Three, in the past two hundred years.” the monster in the darkness replied.

Strogoben let out a low whistle. “Guess you don’t get many visitors. Huh?”

Vor’nuuth let out a loud laugh. “I guess. Right?”

The human stepped back as the peals of laughter continued to ring around him.

“You are funny, human. I will give you that. Now state your name, and I will provide some light for you to see me.”

“Strogoben of Dysheimr,” he replied loudly, emboldened by the creature’s laughter.

“Dysheimr,” Vor’nuuth growled. “Don’t lie to me human. There are none of your kind in Dysheimr.”

“My kind?” he asked hoarsely. “I wasn’t born there, but that is where I have been living for the past few years. I was enslaved and taken from my home when I was yet a child. So, I never knew the name of my city. It was wiped out by the Joopi.”

“So, why do you seek the Warblade?” Vor’nuuth hissed quietly.

Strogoben could hear the voice loudly though and sensed that it had moved closer. He wanted to duck instinctively into his shield in case he spat dark flames in his direction. But he resisted the urge to flinch and stood firm.

“I remember that my family was descended from Harald the Stout of Novgorod who once wielded Venomshank. I have come to claim what belongs to my bloodline,” he said, half-expecting the beast to take that as a challenge to fight.

“Yes, that’s obvious, since you were able to enter my lair so easily. Only those of your bloodline have been granted access. My question is why you seek it now. What do you hope to accomplish with it?”

Strogoben breathed a bit easier. Maybe this wouldn’t be as difficult as he thought.

“I come for love!” he declared boldly, hoping to pull on the creature’s emotional strings if it had any.

“Love. Huh? That sounds typically human.” Vor’nuuth snorted. “Flowers and sweet treats were created to woo love. The Warblade was created for blood and battle. Guts and glory. Most only come looking for Venomshank when they are beyond despair and have no other hope of achieving the vengeance or salvation their soul desires. I’m afraid you come to the wrong place looking for the wrong thing.”

“But it’s not. I mean I haven’t come to the wrong place. I’m looking for all of that. I seek vengeance against those who have taken my love from me. I will do battle against them. And as for glory, I will receive my own kingdom if I defend the realm of Dysheimr.”

“Hmm. Oh my. That does sound like a worthy cause. Maybe you will be willing to pay the price.” the creature muttered. “Who took your love from you and threatens Drysheimr?”

“The fire gnomes,” Strogoben spat quietly.

“Argh!” Vor’nuuth growled. “I knew that those little rascals would be nothing but trouble. I tried to put a stop to them, but they wouldn’t let me. The Engineers locked up down here for meddling.”

“Why?” Strogoben asked.

“Why what?” Vor’nuuth asked. “Why did I meddle? Or why did they lock me up?”

“Well, both are good questions, I guess,” Strogoben replied. “Someone told me that you were locked up for wreaking havoc in the lower realms. They made it sound like you were somewhat of a troublemaker.”

“Is that what they say about me. Do they?”

There was a flicker in the darkness. It didn’t last long and was really low, yet brought relief to Strogoben’s eyes since they had been staring into nothing but pitch black darkness the entire time.

Slowly, the dungeon around him began to come into view. There was a light glow off the walls around him. Eventually, a dark form began to take shape before him. It wasn’t so much that light came into the room, but rather that this creature, whatever it was, stopped absorbing what little light was available in the room around them.

As it did so, the heat seemed to let up a little in the room. The impression that Strogoben had was that the dark flames had diminished and regular flames began to take their place. It was the strangest sensation he had ever experienced.

The smell of burning sulfur filled the air around him, and Strogoben had to close his nostrils and cover his mouth with his jacket to breathe without gagging.

As the beast came into view there was a sparkle in the smoke, a cracking of wood, and suddenly he was met with an outlandish beast of smoke and flame. The first thing that stood out at him were two huge, desolate eyes staring back at him with harrowing excitement, and another sparkle thundered from its ridged mouth as if to summon others. Several sharp teeth poke out from the side of its mouth and give a preview of the terror hiding inside.

The eyes were almost level with him, but as Vor’nuuth stood to his full height, they rose quickly towering above Strogoben. Almost five times the height of the human. And that was only from the knees up because the giant stood in a pit filled with the strange flames.

Four horns adorned its the creature’s bony, angular skull that sat atop a broad, robust body. Two smaller horns in the center which gave the creature a very ominous looking appearance. Along with two larger ones rooted into the sides of its rugged head. A constant plume of smoke escaped the creature’s narrow nostrils set within a hollow nose.

Its skin was blackened and charred. Continuously burning off in ashes that floated carelessly off the burning red flesh that burned underneath. The skin seemed to simply replace itself before burning off again.

The first thought that came to his mind when he saw it was that a giant bull wanted to barbecue itself and built the firepit that it was roasting itself in. Strogoben would have burst out laughing if he hadn’t been so terrified.

The creature strode closer toward Strogoben. Two muscular limbs carried its body and allowed the creature to stand noble and elevated. Each limb had 4 digits, each of which ended in pointy talons seemingly made of onyx. Its legs gracefully carried its fiery body with a hurried energy. Its movements were playful, yet determined.

Strogoben took a step back. Away from the edge of the pit where he had been standing. If the creature hadn’t spoken up, he probably would have fallen into the pit with the black flames.

Though now, he could no longer see them. Regular yellow, orange, and reddish flames leaped up over the edge casting an eerie glow over the creature and across the room.

Steam and heat wafted up out of the pit around Strogoben. Not that it had really diminished or grown hotter, but there was a definite difference in the type of heat that the flames were putting off. The light colorful flames seemed bright and cheery compared to the previous dark flames. Those had been oppressive. Seemingly sucking the life and energy out of the room.

“Well, I meddled with the Engineers because they created the fire gnomes from my own flesh and fire. It was a little experiment they were doing on me for their game. They wanted me to continuously be generating little fire gnomes. Like these things would just pop out of my flesh and take off screaming. I knew they were bad news, and it hurt like water being poured on my flesh. That’s why I wreaked havoc in the lower realms and became a troublemaker. Because I wouldn’t let them do what they wanted with me.”

“So, they didn’t lock you up down here? You created this place for yourself.” Strogoben said as it dawned on him.

“Well, I didn’t create it. It already existed. I destroyed it and made it more to my liking.” Vor’nuuth said with a grin.

“How would destroying it make it more to your liking?”

“They released me as a weapon against a civilization created by another engineer. The fire gnomes annihilated it. I felt horrible. So, I tracked down the Engineers who had released me. And this was where I found them. I killed most of them. A few escaped. They tried to take it back, but they didn’t stand a chance against their most powerful creation. Here I’m safe and comfortable.”

Strogoben looked around and noticed that it was absent of any fire gnomes.

“The flames of darkness prevent you from producing any more of those nasty little critters?” he queried.

The giant nodded.

“It burns them off before the can form in my flesh and come out through my skin.”

Strogoben winced.

“Ouch, that must really hurt.”

“Not really. It just numbs me. And it’s a lot less painful than birthing fire gnomes out from under my skin.”

Strogoben really did feel sorry for the creature. Here he had come ready to fight to the death to kill it. If he had known the fire gnomes had come from Vor’nuuth, he would have tried to kill it without asking questions. And here it had locked itself away and was doing everything it could to keep from producing more.

“Wow. I’m really sorry about that. I had no idea. That must be awful. It’s like a fate worse than death.”

Vor’nuuth smiled sadistically.

“You don’t think I brought the Warblade along with me for nothing did you?”

“What do you mean?” Strogoben asked.

“I knew that if I continued running around out there, the fire gnomes would continue to propogate. And I had no idea where to find those of your bloodline. I would release too many fire gnomes across the land on my journey. So, I brought it with me so that those of your kind would come to me.”

“You want me to use Venomshank to kill you and put you out of your misery?”

Vor’nuuth nodded and fell to his knees. Lowering his giant head till his eyes were level with Strogoben.

“I will give you the Warblade willingly. I don’t want to suffer anymore. It takes three days of pure agony to give birth to a batch of fire gnomes when I’m not near the dark flames. But I don’t want to while away my days here in this pit any longer. Besides, the flames are growing weaker. They aren’t as strong as they once were. Once they die out, my suffering resumes.”

Strogoben’s heart went out for the poor suffering creature. He slid his sword back into its sheath and stepped forward.

“I came here to fight you for the Warblade. Even planned to kill you if necessary. Not that I probably could anyway. I really had no idea what to expect. I thought you were like a dragon or something. But seeing you in this situation is horrible. It’s ridiculous that someone would do this to you and make you suffer so. There has to be something we can do to stop it.”

The giant dragon demon thing, whatever Vor’nuuth was, just shrugged.

“I’m tired of the struggle. Two hundred years. Wasting away. It seems pointless. Like I’m putting off the inevitable. Just waiting for something worse to happen.”

“Like what? What could be worse than this? You’re still alive. That’s what counts.”

Vor’nuuth threw his head back and laughed mockingly.

“Great. Woo. I’m living. Yee ha. Holed up here in this fire pit of oppressive heat and darkness just to keep from feeling worse. Put yourself in my place. You would be grateful.”

“Surely, there is something you can do. Someone who can help you. An Engineer who can reverse the effects.”

Vor’nuuth pointed to his back and stood again. There was a large yellow sigil that lit up around his back and head. Strogoben had seen it earlier, but hadn’t paid much attention to it. It was a large, glowing circle with runes around the edges.

“The Engineers have branded me. This seal was placed upon me when I officially joined their game. None of this clan will dare to go against it. and none of the other clans are allowed to touch it, lest they be cast out. It’s hopeless.”

“You mean you willingly submitted yourself to this?” Strogoben asked incredulously.

“Yes. I mean not this exactly. They promised me power and wealth and all kinds of amazing things I never dreamed of. Once I was in, it was too late. I couldn’t back out. And this was the result.”

Vor’nuuth knelt back down and leaned forward. He reached out one long finger of his right hand. There was a sword balanced on the tip of his finger. Strogoben sucked in his breath. This was it. This was the warblade. One of the finest ever forged in the mines of Ballara on the other side of the continent.

It was exquisite. Even more amazing then he had imagined. He could feel the power that had been forged into it emanating directly into his body. Strogoben could feel the connection it had to his blood. It recognized him as one authorized to wield it in all its power and glory.

Strogoben wanted to reach out and take it immediately, but he pulled himself back.

“I can’t kill you if you give it to me,” he said softly.

“But you would have killed me in a fair fight to take it from me by force?” Vor’nuuth spat indignantly. “You humans and your sense of justice.”

Strogoben shrugged. “It’s different.”

“Oh! So, it okay to kill me against my will, but if I give you permission, then suddenly you have moral qualms about taking my life. That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard of.”

The human shrugged again. The fiery beast sighed.

“Fine. Let’s do it. We shall duel to the death.” Vor’nuuth declared, standing again to his full height.

“That’s silly,” Strogoben spat out. “You’re just going to let me kill you. It wouldn’t be a fair fight.”

“Yeah. Is that what you think.” Vor’nuuth said stepping up out of the pit and placing his giant foot beside Strogoben.

The human leaped back. He stumbled and tripped over a stone. Strogoben hit the ground hard and rolled over. Trying to get back onto his feet while pulling out his sword at the same time. He raised his shield and continued to back up as the giant set his other foot outside the pit.

Strogoben dashed for the door, but Vor’nuuth didn’t even have to take another step to stop him. The large creature simply reached over the man’s head and blocked the exit. Then he opened his mouth and spewed out a stream of yellow fire.

The shield barely protected him from the blast of heat. Strogoben could feel the flames curling around the edges as he put his head down to protect his eyes. If it had been for his dragon skin jacket and hood, he would have been toast. He could sense the protective sigil on his back absorbing a good portion of the heat as well.

His toes started to heat up. Strogoben looked down to see what was going on. The shoes were still holding up well against the flames as well. He was glad he had paid the extra gold to get this pair. Others had been cheaper and even more comfortable. But he had taken these anyway in case he had to face a situation like this.

It had happened once before. In one of his first dragon fights. The Joppi hunted them for their skin. It was just a small dragon. Probably a baby that didn’t know how to fight very well. But it still managed to get off a puff of fire that burned and blistered his feet. He had learned to go in to any dragon fight well protected.

Being forced to hunt the skins for the Joopi was why Strogoben had refused to ever buy clothes made of dragon skin after that. But before making this journey, he had known he would need them. So, he made sure that the clothes he picked up did not come from the Joopi marketers.

Strogoben was glad for the shoes. They really did protect his feet even better than a pair with dragon skin soles. He barely even sensed this toes warming up.

As soon as the blast of fire from Vor’nuuth shut down, Strogoben stood up and raced to the side to get behind some protective rocks. But before he could make it, two blazing beams of light shooting from the monster’s eyes blasted the rocks to smithereens.

That brought Strogoben up short. He changed direction and raced directly toward the giant beast’s legs. At least there it wouldn’t shoot itself in the foot or try burning it’s own leg. At least that’s what he hoped anyway.

The warrior leaped up onto its feet and looked up. It’s mouth glowed once again, and Strogoben leaped off to get behind it just as a quick blast of flame burst out around him.

It took a moment for the creature to realize where the human had disappeared to in the flames. Strogoben took advantage of the time to catch his breath. He was furious. There was no escaping this place or the monster. He didn’t want to kill it, but he didn’t see any other options.

It was either kill or be killed.

Strogoben didn’t even know if he could kill this creature. Something this powerful would surely take some sort of magic or power that he didn’t know if he possessed. He was a good fighter. Wielded his fair share of power. But he had never fought anything this size.

He decided to give it a go though and see what kind of damage he could do. Strogoben raised his sword and leaped at the monster’s calf. He drove his sword deep into its flesh and pulled down as hard as he could leaving a large gash in its flesh. The beast gave a mighty roar and jerked its leg up, pulling Srogoben up with it.

The movement flung the human across the room and sent his sword flying. The creature thrashed madly around. Shattering the stalactites and stalagmites from around himself. In one of his thrashes, it smashed its head against one that didn’t shatter. It stumbled forward and fell to its knees. Grabbing its face it let out a horrible roar. Then it leaned forward and slowly toppled to the floor.

Strogoben leaped to his feet and raced for his sword. He picked it up with both hands and waited for Vor’nuuth to rise again. But it lay still. The warrior walked forward to take a closer look at his mighty foe.

“C’mon. It couldn’t have been that easy.” he said, reaching forward to give it a quick jab in the face with his sword.

Vor’nuuth winched at the pain and opened one eye.

“Oh, seriously. You didn’t finish me when you had the chance.” the monster ground. “C’mon. You were supposed to finish me. That was your cue. Slice my head off and put me out of my misery.”

“You wouldn’t have stood the pain two seconds. As soon as he started sawing away at your head, you would have screamed like a baby dragon. The slammed me across the room.”

Vor’nuuth chuckled bitterly.

“Yeah, I suppose so. I don’t really want to die. But I just don’t see any other way out of this misery.”

“Why don’t you let me try to find some help for you. Give me the sword, and exchange, I will seek out one of these Engineers who can help you.”

The giant growled and shook his head as he sat back up.

“How do I know you won’t just run away with it. Or worse yet die out there trying to fight the fire gnomes to save your wife. Then I’ll be stuck down here still with no way to attract another one of your kind to kill me.”

“Yeah, I guess you could just wait down here for another 200 years to see if anyone shows up. Though, by then, everyone may have forgotten about you and that stupid sword.”

Vor’nuuth spat angrily at the thought and pulled himself up. He scooted back toward his pit.

“I don’t have long before I need to start up the dark flames again. You should leave.”

“C’mon. I’m your best chance. Let me try. Send one of your pets along with me to keep an eye out for me. It can help me. And if I die, it can bring the Warblade back to you.”

“I suppose I could send Milsa with you. But what would you do to help me?”

Strogoben placed his sword back in his sheath and bowed low. Even getting down on one knee. Tell me what you would have me do. If you grant me the sword that I may save my love and avenge myself on the fire gnomes to obtain my half of the kingdom, I would spare no expense or effort to attempt to help you obtain relief from this horrible suffering.”

Vor’nuuth growled and then sighed.

“What choice do I have in the matter. It is what it is. If it is to be, it is to be.”

He leaned down to Strogoben and handed him the Warblade once again. The human took it carefully with both hands. He felt it hum in his grip. It felt perfectly balanced. Everything he had ever imagined in the perfect sword.

Venomshank was a hundred times better than his current sword.

“Three months. Find a way to free me from these flames, or else return to kill me. That is my condition. After that, you may seek to free your wife.”

“No, that’s impossible!” Strogoben roared.

“Three months is more than enough time,” Vor’nuuth shot back.

“It took me more than three months to find this place. Now, I have to go back and start looking again. Even if I find it, I still have to return all the way back here. But that’s not the point. I have to save my wife first. She may die or worse happen to her if I don’t find her soon.”

Vor’nuuth shook his head. Three months is all I will accept. Return quickly. Otherwise, at the end of this time, I will return to hunt you down until you kill me. If you don’t I will destroy everything you hold dear and everyone you love for making me suffer by leaving these dark flames to produce more fire gnomes.

“But you’ve been down here two hundred years. What are a couple of more months? Even a year?” Strogoben cried in anguish, trying to figure out how he was going to find his wife and save this beast in three short months.

“I will go directly to the fire gnomes, find your wife myself, and then come after you to kill her before your very eyes. Return in three months. Kill me. Then continue to search for her.”

“But she is in immediate danger, and you aren’t. You are safe here.” Strogoben exclaimed in exasperation. “Please. I have to help her first to have a clear head to focus on your problem. I will do my best. I just need to help her to get that cleared off my plate. Then I will do everything in my power to help you. Even if it takes twenty years. I won’t give up on you.”

Vor’nuuth growled and turned away. Settling down deep into his pit of dark flames. They slowly began to rise up around him. Extinguishing the light from around the dungeon. That darkness began to take over the room. The dark flames absorbing the light in the room. The giant fading away into the darkness of the flames licking up around him.

Soon, the only thing that Strogoben could see was the yellow glow of his eyes. Unblinking. Staring back at him out of the darkness.

“Fine. Save the woman if you must before helping me. But that doesn’t diminish the time frame. Three months to save her, find a way to help me and return here for my judgment if the solution is acceptable.”

Strogoben nodded and bowed low.

“I swear that I will do my very best to resolve this as swiftly as I can. You have my eternal gratefulness, and I owe you more than you can ever demand of me. I will return at the end of three moons, whether I have found my wife or a suitable solution for you. If I don’t return it is because I am either dead or imprisoned against my will.”

The room was almost completely pitch black once again. Strogoben heard Vor’nuuth shift down deeper into the flames.

“Go,” the creatures sighed. “May Mishal help you, guide you, and protect you. She is of the fire too, so you can control her with the Warblade. May your journey be as swift as your vengeance when you come upon the fire gnomes.”

Strogoben backed toward the door. A quiet patter followed him. He could hear the creature’s nails clicking on the floor as it walked.

When he got back out through the doors, the slid shut behind him automatically. Strogoben looked down once again at Venomshank in his hand. It was amazing. And he was so excited to have the possibility of saving his wife.

He glanced over at the creature that had followed him. It looked like one of the doberman pinchers the king of Drysheimr raised. Only this one was twice as large and pure black. Even its eyes were completely dark. No whites at all.

“C’mon, Mishal. We have a great adventure ahead of us. And there is no time to waste. We should try to make it back out of here over the next three days. We shall have to fly. But I’m glad to have your companionship on this journey.”

The creature cocked its head to the side and wagged its tail briefly. Then it pushed on past him and took the lead as if it understood wher he wanted to go.

Strogoben followed close behind it. Pleased to not be alone. It was late and it had been a long day. He would soon be tired. But he wanted to get out of this dungeon before finding a place to settle down for the night.

He continued to walk along behind Mishal as he admired Venomshank. Hardly believing that he actually had it in his possession. Especially since he didn’t have to take it by force or even kill the giant who had given it to him.

Strogoben smiled. Finally, things were starting to look for him.

“Hang on, love of my life. I’m coming for you. I will not stop until I have found you.”

They made a strange pair as they pressed though the cavern. The human and a large, black dog that was almost as tall as he was. He could sense that they would hit it off well and have many adventures together.

0

What Goes Around [Audio Short Story]

I’ve had this story idea in my head for a very long time, but never really figured out how to write it because of its premise is a bit unique. But I finally decided to tackle it today for my Patreon students and readers till I found my way through it. I think it works, Read it and tell me what you think.

Just to give you some background here, this is one of the stories set in the Edge of the Universe Series about a programmer called Jenny who has been working on a top-secret army project to create clones. After a series of problems and losing the love of her life in the process, Jenny discovers a way to transfer people’s minds from one body to another. General Bart hijacks her project though and this story is where we end up.

What Goes Around

The smoke still wafted from the barrel of the gun in his hands. The sound of the shot hadn’t yet reached her ears. Maybe it was the shock of getting shot that blocked out the sound.

Jenny looked down at the small hole in her shirt. Quickly turning red as the life-giving fluid seeped from her body. She reached down and touched it lightly. Still not feeling anything. Surreal. Almost as if she were in a dream.

She looked back up into the eyes of General Bart, now using President Kent’s body. She cocked her head to the side. His lips were moving, but Jenny couldn’t hear the words coming out of his mouth.

It sounded like he was saying, “What goes around, comes around.”

Jenny had tried to shoot him earlier. Though she had missed. She looked back down at the wound in her side. Well, in General Bart’s side since she was using his body.

The pain exploded in her side as she pressed her finger into the bullet hole to staunch the bleeding. The shock was wearing off and her senses were returning.

Jenny screamed in anger and frustration at the sudden turn of events. This hadn’t gone down at all like she had expected after losing the element of surprise.

Her voice came out all wrong. Thick and deep. Then she remembered that it wasn’t her voice. Jenny was no longer in her own body. Her body lay back in the warehouse lab.

General Bart had used her project to hijack the president’s body and then locked her up till he needed her again. She had transferred herself into General Bart’s body to escape and hunt the man down.

And now, she had been shot. Jenny would die. General Bart would get to rule the country in the president’s body that he had hijacked. And no one would be the wiser. And it would all be her fault.

Jenny looked up into the barrel of the gun and knew she had to do something fast. She analyzed the railing over the balcony just behind the General. Three stories up.

It would be painful. But as long as she didn’t die in the fall she might be able to pull this off. It was her only choice. If she tried to transfer out now, he would simply call one of the soldiers back at the warehouse to locate her original body and put her down.

Jenny raised her hand in front of the gun as if trying to say something and slowly stood up. The general took a step back and relaxed his stance as he waited.

He grinned that same stupid, arrogant grin that she hated — gloating that he had had the upper hand the entire time.

But as soon as she had risen to her feet, Jenny threw herself at him. The General’s original body that she was now in was almost twice the size of the president’s body that Bart now possessed.

Jenny hit him hard, and it wasn’t even much of a struggle to push him over the railing.

They both fell through the air. A quick, short free fall three stories down.

Jenny relaxed her body and tried to land upright to take the fall on her legs with a roll to the side to protect her head like she had learned to do in her parkour training classes.

But it didn’t do much good. Jenny’s legs snapped under her before she could get the roll in. Her body basically just flopped to the side. But she was alive, and that was all that mattered.

General Bart lay there unconscious. Jenny just needed a way to contact Al for him to pull her out of the General’s broken body. She half-rolled and half-dragged herself over to paw through his pockets for his cell.

It wasn’t in his pants pockets. Her heart froze for an instant. But she continued searching and felt it in the inside pocket of his coat. She sighed in relief and tugged it out. But when she looked at it, the screen was blank.

Jenny groaned as she tried to turn it back on. It took a few seconds to respond, but the screen finally lit up. She sighed in relief.

The General came to and lay there stunned for a brief second before he let out a spew of curses between the screams of pain and anger. Jenny dialed the number and hit the call button as she rolled away from him.

“Yeah, it’s me. Get me out of here. And put the General back where he belongs.”

General Bart froze for an instant as he realized what she was doing.

“No, leave the president where he is. His body is too far gone. We’ll have to make him a clone.”

“You can’t do that too me,” the General screamed at her. “You can’t put me back in that body. My legs are broken. I’ve been shot.”

Jenny grinned painfully, “You should have thought of that before shooting me. Well, I mean yourself. Or whoever this body belongs to. This is so confusing.”

She closed her eyes and waited for Al to complete the transfer. Jenny grinned at the thought of General Bart waking back up in his own body. The one she had been using.

Jenny started to laugh, but it hurt too much.

“What’s so funny,” he growled.

“Karma, baby. You reap what you sow. Literally, because you shot yourself. How’s that for a taste of your own medicine.”

She felt a strange numbness wash over her. Jenny wasn’t sure if this was from the transfer back to her original self or the sensation of death sweeping over the body she was now in.

“What goes, comes around,” she murmured as she drifted off into the darkness that washed over her.

Thank you for reading this short story. I really appreciate it because they mean a lot to me. They are part of a series of books that I’ve been working on called Edge of the Universe. The main story revolves around a naive Brazilian scientist.

Art develops technology that can splice DNA among living organisms. He hopes to solve major problems like world hunger and curing all diseases. But evil corporations want to get their hands on his project. The first book in the series is called ‘Rise’. You can download and read book 1 on Amazon for FREE >>

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P.S. I write these stories for my English students, so if you are learning English as a Second language and have questions about any vocabulary words or their pronunciations, feel free to ask in the comments below.