A start to something…

Honestly, I have no idea what inspired this story idea. Any thoughts on it would be much appreciated.


Glancing down with loving eyes, at my newborn son held precariously in my arms. Seeing him reach out to the world for the first time. His bright sapphire eyes reflecting me, while possessing a familiar but faintly glowing golden color. Doing my best to hide my surprise from my wife, I carefully handed him back to her. Knowing two things with great certainty; he was indeed my son, and his life would be more unusual than anything I wished for him because of it.

My wife, lovingly cradling our first born in a mixture of relief and exhaustion. Waiting for two doctors and nurse to leave the room before speaking. Agreeing only to tell the medical staff just what was absolutely necessary. Even though we had our guardian in the place with us, in case the medical staff turned out to be more malicious then their benign appearance suggested. Given how capable my wife and I were, our child had incredible potential brewing within him.

The one doctor pulled down his dark green face mask before commenting, “We will give you four some privacy. Press the call button if you need something, and a nurse will be here to help,” giving a quick glance to his coworkers before walking out of the room. The nurse shutting the door behind her as she left the room.

Taking a deep breath, my wife commented “He has the gift inside him,” sighing some as our son reached for her pointer finger. “I know we never wanted this for him, but apparently the choice was out of our hands for once. He will need all of us if to protect him, including you, Zero,” glancing at the ex-soldier bodyguard the Protectorates assigned us. He had been standing in the far back of the room, watching in silence while the medical staff were working. “Promise us you will keep him safe if they find us. Even if that means leaving us behind.”

Zero remarked “The Protectorates may have something to say about that, but I will try my best to follow your wishes, Evaline,” bowing his head some. His phone audibly vibrating in his back pocket. Silently pulling it out of his pocket barely glancing down at the display, before putting it back into his pocket. “The escort has arrived to take us to a more secure location. They will be entering this hospital in five minutes. Gather everything you can with haste, Jason. Your son and wife will need protection as they recover.”

Taking a quick glance at Jason, I nodded moving to gather my wife’s things. Knowing that their protection was of the utmost priority for me. Pulling the barely unpacked duffle bag from the room’s faux wooden closet. The pregnancy pants and a loose fitting shirt was resting on top of the pack. Unzipping the bag about halfway, I shoved the clothes into the dark green duffle bag. Tossing a few clean white towels that were neatly folded into the bag as well. Sealing the zipper, before looking back at my wife and son. Evaline had our son neatly wrapped in the light blue blanket the nurses had placed him in. His tiny hand still grasping my wife’s pointer finger.
Setting the bag against the bed, before helping my wife move off the bed. She had swung her legs over the lowered bedrail, waiting for the escort party to arrive. Six heavily armed Protectorates bodyguards barged into the room. Each one looking intimidating with unmarked black armor covering them. Thin black cloth masks covered the lower part of their faces, from the nose down. One of them was pushing a wheelchair in front of them, moving towards the bed. With help from Zero, we slowly lifted my wife from the bed. Lowering her and our newborn son with care into the wheelchair’s padded dark blue cloth seat. Slinging the duffle bag over my right shoulder, before gripping the pale blue foam grips at the wheelchair’s back. Zero and two of the other Protectorates forming a small guard at the front of the wheelchair. The other three guarding our backside, as we began to leave the hospital room.

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Happy Halloween everyone

All Hallow’s eve had arrived, bringing a thick supernatural like fog with it.  Spectral balls of concentrated white light were flying through the mist, leaving no trail of their existence behind. Leaving the illusion of misguiding bright spots in the fog. Fortunately, the small coven I belonged too, were already gathered in the forest. An old black iron cauldron resting in the center of a circle of mature white oak trees. Intricate symbols of long forgotten magics were precisely engraved into the metal. Blue and orange flames danced under the cauldron, heating the mixture to a boil.  Bubbles popping on the liquid’s surface released bittersweet aromas of its ingredients.

My companions and I exchanged quick glances over the cauldron, knowing our window had begun to open. Nodding in unison we began to chant, “On this night of divine power, we praise your name the almighty mother of darkness Hectacte. The full moon rises as the barriers between the worlds fall. We beg for your aid on this night to grant us the power we need to protect your faithful. Keep us safe against those that wish to harm our kind. With this sacrifice of blood, we beseech you to aid us,” each one of us drawing a simple silver coated dagger. Pricking our thumbs with blades’ tips. The blood dripping steadily into the solution, making it fizzle even more. “With this sacrifice of blood, we beseech you mighty Hectacte. Protect your faithful from those that wish to do us bodily harm,” going silent, as more blood dripped into the cauldron.

The trees creaking against a mighty wind that appeared without warning. A raspy voice followed answering our pleas, “I will give you the power you seek, but be weary my precious followers’ power can be consuming to those unready to accept it. ” Bringing another mighty wind that extinguished the flames, as the voice fell silent. The supernatural wind wrapping itself under the cauldron and lifting it into the air. Spinning it with incredible speed, before raining the contents of the kettle down upon us. The mixture soaking into our bare skin, as it emptied. All of five us exchanging quick glances, as Hectacte granted us our desire.

Feeling empowered by the mixture, I commented “The time has come to strike back at this severe persecution of our kind. Let us began while the barriers are down and our power is fresh,” beginning to walk back towards the town. Knowing I was being followed without hesitation by the others of my coven.

 

 

 

WEP October 2018 Contest Entry

Struggling to create something for this month’s contest, I considered skipping and rejoining in December. Challenging myself to write something that was a fit for the themes of Deja Vu or Voodoo. Writing a few different ideas but failing to get past a couple of paragraphs with each idea. Which honestly, was incredibly frustrating and annoying for me. Yet, apparently, the pressure from an encroaching deadline was the key to turning the spigot of inspiration on. Inspiring this Tesla-punk themed atmosphere of voodoo and science. Oddly enough the title came easily enough to me, entitling the piece Mad Science.


With thunder and rain making a symphony against the cracked window, I glanced at the massive machine that constructed in the middle of my empty red brick warehouse. Spheres of pure copper rested on top of ten-foot-tall copper wrapped steel beams. The positions of the poles, even the warehouse itself was carefully determined by occultist Aleister Crowley. Ancient and powerful runes etched into the ground around the machine. Etch dusted with copper shavings and white chalk. Bringing in Nikola Tesla himself to design and construct unique Tesla Coils for this project. Making sure the two never knew the plans true aim. This project more akin to technological voodoo. Then it was to either science or the occult. If this worked, I would be reborn into out of this body riddled with a fatal sickness. It didn’t matter if it failed, death would be claiming me soon enough.

Hobbling down the iron staircase, descending with my hand tightly wrapped around the rail. Setting the bottom of my cane on the ground to aid me, before taking my last step off the stairs. Knowing how much I had come to rely on the simple device to move in the past few months. Planning each action on the cement floor with great care, knowing how fragile my ailing body was becoming. Limping to the large steel encased control panel that was parallel to the lowest stairs. Pulling down on the lever to activate the many Tesla Coils simultaneously. Hearing a slight hum as the machines started to warm up. Moments later pure white lightning crackled throughout the warehouse. Striking the ground with growing frequency making the lights glow steadily brighter.

Unsteadily walking into the middle of the machine, the few hairs I had left standing on end. The iron chair I had bolted to the floor waiting for me. Polished copper restraints were attached to the chair, waiting to secure me into the chair. Lowering myself into the chair, letting the cold metal force me entirely into the chair. Watching the lights flicker out as a storm of white lightning strengthened around the machine. Focusing itself around the runes, forcing the copper dust and chalk mixture to glow faintly. The glow was steadily getting brighter, while I watched unwilling to move from the storm’s center. Lightning was beginning to strike the chair at random. Feeling the electrical energy work its way through my chest. A sharp and intense pain started to wrap around my body. Screaming into the air, as the frequency of the lightning strikes increased. Within minutes the pain was unbearable, forcing my conscious to fade away slowly.

Looking down on my empty shell of a crippled body, somehow no longer bound to it. My spiritual form forcibly contained to the area by the mixture of science and the occult. Observing helplessly, as the lightning produced the by Tesla Coils rapidly struck at my body. Feeling a slight tremor even though I was no longer attached to my physical body. The quivers were steadily getting stronger, waiting for the machines to finish discharging their energy.

It could have been a few minutes or a couple of hours before the remaining discharge struck my body simultaneously. The final release was powerful enough to forcibly recall my spirit into my physical body in a union of technology and voodoo. My body was tingling slightly as the metal restraints opened. Being filled with a feeling of robustness that I haven’t possessed since my youth. Tossing my cane across the warehouse testing out this new body before standing. Walking out of the mechanization created by creating a union of occultism and science. My once frail body reborn strengthened with the aid of mad science. Eager to not have to deal with constant hospital visits and doctors that restrained so much of my life. With a new-found spring in my step, I was ready to take on the world.


Critque level: Full

Word Count: 653

Ummm…where was I going with this?

Looking past my platform, I carefully glancing over the bloodstained white masked faces of the surviving graduates of this year’s trails.  Out of the fifty potential candidates who were eligible for the trails, only eight remained alive. The trails had eliminated the weakness from the group. Leaving behind the ruthless and toughest survivors. Each one more than capable of doing anything and everything required to survive the dangerous world they were about to enter.

“You eight are the only survivors of your class. Enabling you to leave the academy you have called home since you were nothing more than mere children.  With the skills and lessons instilled in you here, you will endure any and every hardship you may encounter in your work above.  The custom built gear is waiting in suitcases in your rooms. Welcome to the Legion, graduates of this year’s class.”


I’m not even sure what I thought when I typed this. There is something more here, but my mind fails to recall what it is. Any ideas?

Where to go from here?

Starring out through the cracked screen of my cryo-chamber, I tried looking around. Barely able to look around, before realizing I was still locked inside the cryo-chamber. Knowing trying to break free the titanium alloy restraints would be pointless. Bright, sterile looking light bulbs hung motionless on a long polished chrome pipe. Contrasting with the long dark brown pipes that ran perpendicular to it along the ceiling. Making me wonder where I was since it didn’t look like anywhere I could recall.

Hearing someone shouting nearby in alarm, unable to see them. Seconds later an older looking man with a slightly wrinkled face, and graying hair was peering at me. A dark framed pair of glasses rested against the man’s nose. Tapping lightly with a single finger against the cryo-chamber glass, before commenting “Try to stay calm. I imagine this is startling to you. Technicians are on their way to break the cyropod’s seal, and let you out. Nod if you understand.”

Nodding my head the best I could manage, I waited. Tapping my fingers against the cold metal backing. Surprised by the old man’s diction, and politeness in which he spoke. Assuming even the most basic of principles of civilization would have been eliminated in the impact. Leaving me to wonder if the collision was as dangerous as it was predicted to be. Did humanity endure the impact outside the Arks? Could the old man have been on one the Arks? Had more time passed then planned initially when the creation of the Arks began?

The old man said “Good, you understand,” pausing for a brief moment, glancing at the top the cryo-chamber.”It appears your nameplate has been eaten away by rust. I’m guessing we will have to search the pre-impact data storage for your identity. Given the Ark, was filled with a random mix of people in it, I’m curious to find out,” stopping, and turning around. “The technicians are here, to let you out. It seems I will have to get the answers I seek elsewhere,” vanishing from view. Being replaced by two technicians in stained white bodysuits, and tinted face masks.

Hmm…

With the heat bearing down on us, my father and I continued walking through the desert. Our shadows continuing to grow as sweat continued to drip down our faces. The trail of our footsteps refusing to fade in the seemingly endless dry sea of yellow sand. Not understanding why my father insisted on coming along with me on my spirit-walk. It was meant to be the rite of passage into manhood.  To commune with my ancestors before returning to the tribe.

Dusk was beginning to fall by the time we arrived at Cave of Souls. Without saying a word my father, handed me an ivory smoking pipe. Feathers of blue, crimson, and black hung loosely all around it. Knowing what that meant, I took the smoking pipe with both hands. Taking a breath before walking into the cave. Relieved by the coolness of the dark cave, I walked blindly. Letting my hands guide me in the darkness.

Stopping when I felt something other than the smoothness of weathered stone. Knowing it was buds of the plant,  Hyrbicus. Carefully plucking the bud from the cave-dwelling flower. Grinding it with my hands before putting it into the smoking pipe. Letting it rest in the pipe for a few seconds before taking a long puff into my body. The effects of the flower’s bud were immediate. Seeming to bath the cave with this light, I saw through the darkness. Seeing a narrow stone bridge that led deeper into the cave.

Walking across the stone bridge, I found a vast, smooth stone chamber. Six skeletons protected by a bright blue aura rested in the chamber.  A small raised circle of stone sat in the middle of the room. Walking into the circle, I took a seat in the middle. Taking another puff of the smoking pipe, before taking the smoke into my body. Beginning to notice that the blue aura that surrounded the skeleton had started to take a more human shape.  The one directly in front of me began to look like my grandfather. His spirit twinkling inside almost as if he had come directly from the night sky. Reaching out towards him, I felt a sudden intense burst of blinding pain.  The pain filling my mind with images of my grandfather’s life.

Suddenly the pain and images vanished from my body. While slightly grateful for that, I carefully stood up. The cave much brighter then it was before I entered.  Ready to head back to the village, knowing what my life was about to become.

 

 

Hmm….What happens next?

“The Arks are almost at capacity sir,” looking into the cracked screen of a broken computer monitor.

Nodding his head once, before commenting “Then began the sealing process and cryogenic gas release after that. Once life signs are almost gone, release the nanite gas into the arks. The window of saving humanity is closing.”

Obeying his command, I began remotely sealing the Arks. Listening to the analog style countdown clock tick away. With the Arks wholly sealed, I initialized the release of the cryogenic gas. Knowing the process with the nanite infiltration of the human body had to be performed when they were unconscious. Minutes had passed before life signs on the arc began to rapidly diminish. Starting up the release process of the nanite gas, before looking at my boss.

“Any last words sir,” I asked, watching the progress of things.

The commander ran his thumb and forefinger over his eyes. Taking a deep breath before grabbing the broadcast microphone. Pushing down on the small red button, before commenting “With minutes remaining before the countdown ends, there are so many things that should be said. To ensure humanity endures the collision, some will have to be sacrificed. What happens after the collision will no doubt be fraught with challenges. All I can say is good luck, and may God have mercy on you,” as the countdown clock hit zero.

Another picture is worth, almost another thousand words

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Sentinel by Edward Howard

My papa used to tell me, we live a world of leftovers. I wasn’t sure what that meant growing up, in a simple world. A world where knowledge about the past was dangerous. I was never told why by my elders. Maybe that was for the best, I told myself. That was until a few days ago when I overheard something, my parents, where discussing.  Noticing how in the past few months my mother was acting differently. My father wanted to do something to help her.  From the few things I overheard mentioned were ruined city, hospital, old-world technology, and medicine. The way they whispered about it, made me wonder if it was dangerous. I had heard about the abandoned ruins that were supposed to exist all over the world. With fear and anger running through my mind I ran. Letting the wind push back against my face with each step. Knowing where I was going to visit the strange metal statue that rested in the nearby field.

Carefully stopping before colliding with the rusting blue large chunk of metal that rested against the ground. A tree branch had fallen on it since I had last visited a couple of months ago. The lone wild white cat stood up and approached me from the top of the metal chunk.  Looking down at me with its deep blue eyes, watching me closely.  I had seen it a few times in past visits, but this was the closest I had ever been the cat. Slowly reaching out my left hand, waiting for the cat to react. Stretching out some it sniffed my hand with caution. It must have determined I meant it no harm, as it sat down on the edge of the metal.  Being careful, I climbed onto the metal chunk, Mindful of the tree branches and sticky leaves as I continued to climb. Hearing the metal creak some adjusting to my body weight. It was a noise I had gotten accustomed to, the more I came here.

Taking a seat on the edge of the metal chunk that faced the field, I sat. Letting my feet hang off the side slightly, I gazed out at the statue.  Enjoying the quiet, I began to think about my hidden mother’s sickness. Wondering why she hid it from papa and me? Had he known about it and hide it from me at my mother’s request? Would he go into the ruined city to help her? What could he find there that would be worth risking his life? Would he come back from the ruins at all? What would happen to me if he failed and mother died? Would the village kick me out, or would it take me in?

The wild cat headbutting my arm distracted me from my thoughts. Taking a seat beside me it watched me, continuing to randomly headbutt my arm. Wondering what it wanted, I cautiously scratched its ears. Surprised by how soft its fur felt against my fingers. I had heard it whispered by some of the older villagers, that there once was a family that lived here. Maybe this cat had been one of the family’s pets. I had to wonder why they left it here. Was it forgotten by them or was it done purposely? Would it follow me home? If it did would my mother and papa let me keep it? What would I name it, if they did?

Gently petting it, I resumed staring out at the statue. From what I was told by the village elders, the statue was left behind by the old world. Built by a man known as Army Enginer. They didn’t know why it was built or were unwilling to tell me why they thought someone build something so massive. I knew it was the largest thing I had ever seen in my life. The few traders who came into town in horse-drawn buggies commonly mentioned there were other statues like the one nearby. Even they didn’t seem to know much about the statues. Why would someone build so many statues like one near the village? What could the statues tell us the past? Did they have forgotten knowledge hidden within them? Could that knowledge have a way to help my mother get better?

That last thought stuck around in my head. On impulse, I leaped off the metal chunk. Running towards the field, and the statue. Letting the joy of freedom and hope take over. Pushing my way through the plants being careful not to break any of them. Knowing how much the village depended on the field to eat. Ignoring the hits at my back and arms as the plants snapped back to their normal positions. Pushing ahead with a glimmer of hope in my mind. Stopping a few footsteps away from the statues metal foot. Noticing the statue had hints of a dark yellow color in its metal. I wasn’t sure how that was done, and I didn’t care. All I hoped for was answers that would help my mother fight what was causing her to act differently.

 

 

The start of another idea…maybe

With two strangely curved blades at my throat, I reluctantly kneeled looking up at my pale-faced enemy. His coal black eyes were staring down at me, as a curved grin spread across his face. Showing the rows of pointed predatory blood-stained red teeth. “Given how well you fought against me, you are no ordinary soldier. Yet, I doubt there is any noble blood in you,” noticing something around my neck. “Provided your men forfeit, there will a more private discussion about that strange gold pendant that rests around your neck after this battle is done. For now, get off your knees and follow me to the turret. I wouldn’t recommend trying to grab weapons from your fallen soldiers as you move. I may appear to be alone, but I can promise you I’m not.”

Not seeing much choice, I waited for the blades at my throat to moved from my neck before standing. Without saying a word, I followed my pale-faced enemy. Stepping over the bodies of fallen friends and foes alike. Hearing the battle was still being fought as boulders impacted against a nearby stone wall. This strange enemy seemed unnerved by the fight going on around him. Even his armor appeared to be different than the soldiers I had killed.

He led me towards a high turret, that had a shattered wooden roof on it. The sun was beginning to set on the back, casting an orange glow over the castle ground. Grabbing the bannerman’s brass horn from his corpse. Forcing a loud blast to emit from it as he blew into it. The blow was loud enough to create a temporary pause in the battle.

With a thunderous voice, he commanded “This battle is over. I have captured your brazen commander. Throw down your arms and leave my castle grounds. Tell your king, that I will not be merciful if you attack my castle again without reason,” blowing bannerman’s horn again. Grinning back at me, remaining silent as he led back into the castle.

Once both of us were in the throne room, several towering guards popped out of the shadows. Each guard dressed in black full plate armor. Their faces were hidden under a matching black helm with a flat look. Heavy looking black-handled curved blades rested at their waist. Vicious crescent-shaped long axes with ebony iron handles were carried in by all of them. The edge of each ax stained red with fresh blood. Even if I had any weapons, I was smart enough to know these men were killers. Taking a reluctant spot several large footsteps from the throne, I kneeled. Waiting for the leader of these monstrous men to take his seat on the throne. Wondering what my fate would be if I answered his questions.

A new month, a new writing schedule

I’m starting to realize trying to balance work, and a daily writing routine is becoming increasingly unbalanced. Knowing I’m going back to my regular work schedule after the holiday weekend ends. Meaning I need to augment my writing routine to meet my own goals for each day. Yet, given I’m working on multiple stories, including a few rough ideas for later. Stretching the creative machine in excess, I’m starting to feel the creative well run dry randomly.

Knowing I need to find a balance between work and my creative pursuits. Making a quick decision to alter my schedule. Thinking it over, I realized I needed to break the week down. Focusing on a different idea, each day. Trying to distribute the workload without getting writer’s block or even worse causing myself to burnout. I hope it works to keep the creative juices flowing while allowing me to digitize pieces I’ve written by hand.  Along with trying to get a blog post made once a week. a14694304bf58f9e2e88f39cb34c7f9c