The Human Equation - Part Three

Okay!  Here's part three of our four-part story-writing conglomeration!  Woah!  What a mouthful!  But this week, I've taken on 'The Human Equation'!  I said I liked part two last week, but didn't use it.... so this week, I thought to take on part three!

And... as usual:  enjoy!

“Dad, I think it would be best for my emotional growth if I moved into my own apartment. You are always pushing me to be more self-sufficient and independent, but I can’t reach my potential if I’m still relying on you for so much. Please, take a moment to think this through. Isn’t this the next logical step?”

The girl gave her best pleading look.

“Absolutely not! What’s to keep you from having drug filled sex orgies and becoming a delinquent? I’m not having my daughter get pregnant at sixteen!”

“Oh. My. God. You are ridiculous.”

“I’m your father! I didn’t raise you to-”

“No, Rory, I mean you’re being ridiculous. My dad would never react like that and you know it.”

“Hey! You’re supposed to stay in character!”

“Rory, I’m not a character! I’m supposed to be myself in this scenario! And you’re supposed to be my dad, not Leave it to Beaver’s dad. Come on… delinquent? Who says that?”

“Well…” Rory started, her large dark eyes glancing around her room sheepishly, “My mom says it all the time. She says if I keep putting up posters of guys on my walls, that I’ll get boy crazy and become a delinquent.”

“Ha! You already are boy crazy! You’ve been boy crazy since you were, like, ten!”

“Shut up, Chloe! I am not! I’m just looking for Mister Right.”

“Again, you are ridiculous. You should be looking for a driver’s permit”

“Whatever. Why are we even practicing this? We both know your dad is going to say yes. You have, like, the coolest dad ever. He lets you do anything you want.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. None of her friends ever seemed to understand when it came to her dad.

“First, he is like the farthest thing from cool. He spent my entire ninth birthday party explaining how the light photons from the candles worked. Everybody got so bored after two hours they left. I didn’t even get a chance to open my presents until the next day.”

“Well, nerdy is kinda cool now.”

“He wears socks with his sandals!”

“Well, he does let you dye your hair any color you want.”

“That’s because he tried to invent a nano-programed shampoo that styles your hair as you wash it.”

“That actually sounds kinda cool.”

“It made all my hair fall out! I spent all of fourth grade getting tons of ‘get well soon’ cards cause everyone thought I had leukemia. Yeah, he lost all rights to say anything about my hair after that.”

Rory grimaced.

“Yeah, that sounds really sucky.”

“Your family at least watches movies and TV together. When I try to hang out with my dad, he won’t shut up about String Theory and Quantum Tunneling.”

“I’ve never heard of those shows.”

“They’re… never mind.” Chloe slumped on the bed and ran her fingers through her green and white hair, feeling suddenly exhausted. She didn’t resent her dad, or at least she didn’t think she did. But the past couple of years had been so difficult. They used to laugh and talk and go on ‘scientific adventures’. Hell, she had paid such rapt attention to him during his diatribe on photons that she hadn’t even noticed that the other guests had left the birthday party. Now, they struggled to say more than a few words to each other.

“I should get going.” She sighed.

“You okay Chloe?” Rory asked, genuine concern showing in her large eyes.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

“You gonna ask about the apartment?”

“Yeah. Probably tomorrow. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

As Chloe drove her father’s ’79 Volvo wagon, which weighed more than a Sherman Tank, she couldn’t stop thinking about how much things had changed between her and her father. Deep down, she knew Dad hadn’t really changed. She had been the variable in the equation– she had been the one that changed their relationship simply by growing up. Part of her still wanted to just see him as the hero that knew everything. But a growing part of her was so frustrated at how little he knew about people, especially her. It was like he still saw her as that little girl that drank in his words and not someone nearly a full adult – a near equal.

She parked the Volvo in front of the brick apartment building she called home. Grandpa had left it to them in his will free and clear when he had passed. There were seven living units, but none of the original tenants had stayed more than a year after Dad had become the landlord. He had a habit of neglecting, well, everything. The last straw had been when he converted the basement laundry room into his own personal laboratory. Now it was just the two of them in Unit 1, and if he agreed to her request, she would get her own unit.

Swinging the front door open, she stepped into the main atrium stairwell. The large room was strangely dark, the only light weakly sifting through the glass in the ceiling. Her footsteps echoed loudly. She noticed the sharp smell of something burned wafting through the air.

“Dad?” she asked weakly.

Still no sounds but her own breathing.

The lab. Of course, he would be in the lab.

Walking to the metal door stenciled with the words “laundry”, she opened it and made her way down the concrete steps to the basement. His lab, normally a disastrous mess, looked as though a hurricane had swept through. A single light flickered in the corner, flashing distorted shadows across the room. Something glass shattered on the far side of the room.

“Dad? Is that you?”

She took a tentative step.

A hand gripped her shoulder.

“Chlo-bo!”

“Jesus H Christ, dad!”

He stood next to her, smiling broadly. There were dark smudges on his face and one of the lenses in his glasses looked cracked.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

She looked around the room as something metal clanged.

“Dad… what happened?”

“Something great! Well, probably great! Here, I’ll show you. Just…” he held his fingers up and started towards the far end of the room, “just wait there.”

When Jon Urquhart returned to his daughter, her eyes bulged and her mouth went agape. When she didn’t say anything for nearly a minute, he laughed anxiously and ran his hand through his receding hair.

“So…Chloe… What do you think of it?”

Finally, her mouth closed and with effort she planted her eyes on him and not the… other thing.

“Dad… I’m moving upstairs.”

"So, he was, like, completely cool with it?" Rory shovelled another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth, kicking her legs happily. The girls sat either side of a tub of chocolate fudge in the nook of the giant steel-barred window that overlooked Chloe’s - yes, all hers, finally - apartment. Great shafts of syrupy afternoon light filtered through a year’s worth of grime and murk, lighting up thousands of busy specks of dust suspended in the musty air of Unit 3.

"Yeah. He didn’t argue or anything, just smiled and nodded. It was almost like he was expecting it." Chloe stared at the wobbly upside-down reflection in her spoon for a moment. It reminded her of all the little ‘experiments’ her dad had helped her carry out when she was tiny, like writing backwards letters and holding them up to a mirror. She still had the paper they’d used, somewhere. "He even helped me move my stuff up."

And it was fun, she thought. For a couple of hours it was like nothing had ever changed between them, and they’d laughed their way up the stairs, balancing boxes and bags and armfuls of clothes. As the last couple of boxes were brought up Dad had grabbed her in a hug, totally out of the blue. He’d grinned, his eyes bright through the lenses of his spare pair of glasses, and promised her he’d fix the fusebox so she’d have power that night.

She’d known better than to put too much faith in that particular pledge (she’d been googling fuseboxes and scribbling frantic notes before the battery on her laptop had died) but as she closed the door on her kind, brilliant, infuriating Dad, Chloe had felt like she was making a huge decision. One she didn’t really understand. She hoped she’d got it right.

"I don’t care what you say, your Dad’s awesome."

"Yeah, you don’t have to live with him."

"Neither do you, now!"

"He’s still downstairs, Rory." Chloe gestured with her spoon towards the floorboards. "When it’s quiet I can hear him trying to break the universe." She scraped up the last of the ice cream.

Rory swung her legs out and dropped down to the floor. “I’m gonna head home before my mom starts freaking out. I’d call and tell her where I am but my battery’s dead and literally nothing works here.”

"I’m working on that. C’mon, I’ll see you out."

***

As they passed through the atrium on the way out, Chloe slowed gradually to a halt. Something was, well, off. “Wait, Rors.”

Rory turned, halfway down the stairs. She pulled out the earbud she’d just jammed into one ear. “What? Seriously, Chlo, I need to get back.”

"This is going to sound pretty weird, but was it this clean in here before? When you came in earlier?" Chloe ran a finger along the bannister. It came away without the gross layer of tar-like gunk she’d been expecting.

"Yeah, sure." Rory waved an irritable hand. "Why?"

"It’s just - don’t worry about it." Had Dad cleaned up in here? That wasn’t like him at all, Chloe thought. I wonder if he even got around to the fusebox? "It’s nothing. I’ll see you tomorrow."

The apartment block’s front door clattered shut. Chloe took another look around at the spotless stairwell and went to find her dad.

***

The laundro-lab had looked exactly as it did the night before - a cataclysm of stainless steel and glass - but it was minus one absent-minded scientist. Present, though, was his ‘discovery’ of the previous night. Whatever it was.

Dad had jerry-built a container from a couple of perspex safety screens and hung the thing from a couple of crocodile clip leads used for electrical testing. Stuck to one of the screens was a torn strip of masking tape with the word ‘CASIMIR’ scrawled upon it in Dad’s messy hand.

Chloe forced herself to look at the thing behind the screen. From a distance it looked like a poster-sized sheet of shrink wrap - dull, translucent and inert. If you didn’t know there was anything special about it you’d never give it a second glance.

When you got close enough, though, the air around and behind it seemed to blur and waver, making everything around it seem turbulent, like reflections in troubled water. If you stared too long - and it wasn’t difficult to find yourself doing just that, it was mesmerising - you’d feel dizzy and your eyes would start to run. It reminded Chloe of the comics she used to beg her Dad to buy her when she was a little girl: the ones that came with a pair of 3D glasses that turned the mess on the page into an image that seemed to jump out at you. She made a mental note to see if she had any old pairs of glasses lying around so she could bring them down to try them out.

Guess Dad’s up in our - his - apartment, then. Chloe tore herself away and headed back up to the atrium. Pulling the laundry room door open, she found herself brought up short - standing there, calling up the stairs, was Rory.

"Aurora? What’s up? Thought you’d gone home."

"There you are! Believe me, I tried. There’s some guy outside trying to get into the building. He grabbed me on my way past and insisted I come find you or your dad."

"What? Who? Where is he now?" Chloe peered through the half-frosted pane of glass in the building’s front door. A small brown blur next to a big red one - was that a guy stood next to a car?

"I made him stay outside, obviously. He’s been hammering all the buzzers but I guess they’re still not working, huh."

"Don’t hold your breath. What is he, some sort of salesman or cop or something?"

"No. He looks pretty desperate. He says he used to live here."

Chloe’s gut cooled.  She wondered what the hell was going on; and where was her Dad? Turning back to Aurora, she knew it was up to her to take control of this ‘situation’ her Dad had put her in, “Okay, you go home.  Tell the guy that…”

“I tried, he called me by my name, I freaked and came back here.”

“Oh… I see.” She glanced at the door and knew it was time to talk to the guy next to the car, “I’ll talk to him.  Stay here.”

“But my Mom…”

“Okay, come with me… I’ll get you past him. But if it turns out to be my Dad, I don’t want you breathing a word of this to anyone!  I mean it!  Your family works for the Government, they’ll be onto my Dad and I’ll never see him again!”

“You have my word.” She promised.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and looked out at man who looked very much like her Dad, but she wasn’t sure if he was.  He took a step towards her then stopped as she hesitated, “No way.”

“You see… he wants in here.”

She whispered, “Aurora, do you know who that is?”

“Your Dad?”

“Yep…”

She gave her an incredulous look, “I was kidding!”

Without taking my eyes off the man, her kept my voice low, “Yeah? Well, I’m not.  Go home… but like I said…”

“Yeah, yeah, not a word.” She cut through the overgrown yard and dodged around the man who took a few steps towards her.

“Hey, you leave her alone.” Chloe called out.

He looked toward me, “But there’s a problem.”

“Come here.” Looking towards her friend’s retreating form with concern on his face, she wondered why he was so worried.  But he didn’t move, not until she had turned the corner, “She can’t be alone.”

“Say again?”

Taking in a shaking breath, he looked her in the eyes, “Chloe, she can’t be alone.  It will take her.”

“Dad?”

He nodded, “Yep… what I’ve been working on… it’s been a huge thing, massive.  I haven’t been able to get it going, not until I realised it needed to be fed.”

“What did you do?”

“Can you let me in to explain?”

Turning, she opened the door of the building and he walked through.  Following him through to the laundry-lab, she wasn’t really paying attention to the man in front of her, only the thing off in the corner which had begun to shimmer and waver more.  It was then he grabbed her!

“You are so trusting!”

“You’re my Dad, what do you expect?”

A mocking grin crossed his face as a laugh bubbled from his mouth, “Me?  Nah, honey, I just look like your Dad.”

Glancing across the room at that wavering, weird-looking haze, she realised something.

It was horrible.

Dreadful.

But Chloe knew with complete certainty that whoever this was standing in front of her was right: Aurora couldn’t be alone.

She had to get out of here – and soon!

“Now, sit down here, and I’ll attach these electrodes to your head.” He shoved her into an old dentist’s chair, strapped her arms down into the Velcro straps – as well as her legs and ankles – then a machine slotted around her cranium, holding her quite solidly in place, “Now, for the fun.”

“Fun?” she stammered, “This doesn’t look like fun.”

With a filthy, long nail, he leaned down and scratched at her temple, swiped her with some stinging, rubbing alcohol, then pushed an electrode onto her, “The first of many…” he started to chuckle as he picked up the next one to apply to her head, and began to scratch away at her scalp, “You shouldn’t have used conditioner on her hair last night, missy, it makes this harder to do… I just have to scratch harder at your head to make these contact better now.”

“Oh crap…”

Aurora was halfway home when she realised she had forgotten her house keys; and her folks weren’t home from work yet.  Sighing, she turned around and started walking back to Chloe’s place… then she got a really bad feeling, and started to run back. 

The closer she got to her friend’s house, the more panicked she felt!

She had to get back there before something bad happened to her friend; something irreversible.  

Chloe could feel her friend’s presence half a block away as he attached the fifth electrode to her head, then he paused, “Who are you thinking about?”

“Nobody.” She lied and hoped he believed her.

Yanking the chair around, he looked at her, “You’re lying to me.”

“I was thinking about how you got my Dad into this chair to do this to him.” She said, “And why he is over there hoping I get out of this.”

He swallowed slowly, “Well, like any great scientist, your Daddy-dearest did what they all did… experimented upon himself first.” The monstrosity leaned in close, whispering, “But the whole thing backfired on him and I took over… what fun.”

She didn’t break eye contact with this monster, “I hate you.  I’ll kill you.”

“Aahh, but if you kill me, you’ll kill Daddy.”

“I’m sure he’s willing to die for his experiment to be ended seeing all you want to do is feed.” She replied.

Aurora approached Chloe’s apartment building but found the place locked up tight.  She almost called the police; but she had promised not to report her friend’s Dad – not to anyone.  So, she went around the back to where there was a cellar door she hoped was unlocked.

The Time Keeper - Part Two

Okay... here we go!  Part Two of the story-telling!  I have chosen Mark Gardner's work to continue on with.  Now, how I've done this is:  Mark's work is in purple, mine is in green... okay?  Okay... now, read on and enjoy. 

I sat in the booth pouring sugar into my coffee cup. The pawnshop across the street should’ve opened twenty minutes ago, but the open sign hung in the window dark. I reached into my pocket and felt it, knowing today could be the last time it touch the antique. I hated to part with such a treasure, but these were hard times.

A figure staggered down the sidewalk barely awake. The figure, not the sidewalk. A tendril of light smoke wafted from the cigarette pinched between his lips. Even from across the street, I could see the red cherry get brighter as he breathed. Orange-red brilliance, followed by a compounding of the tendril; twin exhausts rushed from his nostrils before lazily dying in the still morning. He staggered up to the door of the pawnshop, inserted a key and walked inside, the door hanging open at an unwelcome angle.

Although the neon sign welcoming patrons remained off, I signaled to my waiter, knowing what must be done.

“Anything else, miss?”

I cleared my throat, fearing he would charge me extra, but I suspect this part of my plan was integral. “Can I get a cup to go?” I asked sheepishly.

He smiled. “Sure thing,” he smiled, “let me get you one.” He paced the bill facedown on the table and walked away.

I placed the crumbled bank notes on the bill along with the rest of the change from my pocket. I knew the sad pile of currency covered my coffee and the hour I sat across the street from the pawnshop. I knew the tip wasn’t spectacular, but I now had no money to my name. This plan better work, I thought as I stood and met the cheery waiter with my steaming cup. I remember thinking how cheerful he was – I don’t trust people who’re that happy.

I murmured thanks for the cup and walked out the door. Perhaps if I’d known the magnitude of the events to follow, I’d’ve savored the moment. Perhaps said a few words to the universe to honor the occasion. I don’t know. Adventures such as this are rarely what they seem in the beginning.

* * *

“We’re not open yet.”

I removed my hand from the reinforced steel door. The bell that signaled my closing the door seemed comical – such a small sound, barely echoing in a cavernous room filled with trinkets and electronics.

I raised the still-steaming cup as a peace offering. “I’m in no hurry, but it looks as if you could use this.”

The aged man smiled and motioned me towards the counter with an excited wave. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he replied in a gravely voice. No doubt due to the cigarette habit.

I placed the cup on the glass counter as my brain processed what he said. “Waiting for me?” I stammered, fear rising.

He smiled, lines forming on his sun-damaged face. The greying whiskers seemed like a field of tree stumps after a recent logging expedition. “Not you, dear,” he said with desire, “but the coffee you bear.”

He seized the cup and drank greedily. Perhaps, I thought, perhaps his gravely voice isn’t from cigarettes. After a moment, his eyes rolled back into his head. I detected a slight shudder and the skin of of tree stumps transformed to a shade of red – making the grey contrast all the more against his skin. “That’s terrible,” he exhaled. “But, oh so welcome.” He set the cup on the counter. “What can I do for you this fine morning?”

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my last remaining possession. I laid the hunk of silver on the counter, next to the coffee cup. The man nodded, and the silver was lost in his large hand. He ran his thumb along the edge of the watch. “Timekeeper one-seven-two,” he whispered.

I knew I had him where I wanted him. At the time I was only interested in a handful of banknotes to get me through the week. In retrospect, it was he who had me… but, I’m getting ahead of myself.

He placed the silver down with a tenderness I mistook for a love of antiques. “I want to show you something,” he declared, and reached into his own pocket. He pulled out his own silver, dangling from a silver chain. He placed it next to mine and my eyes grew wide.

There sat an identical watch. His was shiny and well cared for. Mine was dented and tarnished. I could see his watch shiver slightly with the tick of the second hand, as mine lie there silent and sad. I began to think I had overvalued my piece, and my confidence wilt, but then my eyes were drawn to the final difference between our timekeepers: the number etched into the side.

“Ah,” he breathed coffee breath across the counter, “you see it.”

Where mine features a fading one-seven-two, his shiny etching proclaimed his to be more than a hundred newer. I reached out to feel the etching of his watch against my fingers, but a static discharge repelled my reach.

“Be careful there,” he whispered, “time is a fickle thing.”

I felt compelled to respond. The words didn’t seem to be my own. When I tried to hold them back, my head began to ache. “But,” I blurted, “it forever heeds its will to the timekeeper.”

The man nodded and withdrew a steel box. He unlocked it with a key and withdrew several banknotes. He laid five of them on the counter. “You have a decision to make,” he declared.

I reached towards the counter, confident of the payday the currency represented, but my hand seemed drawn towards my timekeeper of its own volition.

“Be certain,” he said, “adventure awaits with either decision.”

I closed my eyes and made my decision. A decision I know now was predestined. A decision at sometimes I regret, but mostly, I cherish. A decision that resulted in sudden life.

Before I opened my eyes, I caught a whiff of flowers, of the sharp sea air… of… home.  They snapped open and I found myself standing outside my father’s bakery in the seaside town I had been born in.

Exactly how did I come to be here?

The place looked as though it had come from a dream I had just after my father died.  It had that hazy appearance of ghosts gone in another life, in another time where I couldn’t possible have … then I saw him, my father, serving Mrs. Wilson from down the road.  She was a lovely old dear who died just weeks before my father did.  So, this must have been a dream!

The wind died down for a moment and I could hear a ticking sound.  It was gentle and I almost missed it, until I looked down and found that my left hand was closed over something and I was holding it against my stomach.  On opening it, I found the time piece all fixed up, prettily ticking away and looking as though it was brand new.  I gawped at it for a good minute as the second hand went around and made the hour hand moved very slowly towards the twelve.

It was almost 4pm.

I smiled.  Then, I refocused my eyes on the tiny face of the time piece and realised I may have moved back in time, but physically, I had stayed exactly the same. 

Looking up, I stared back at the bakery again.  If I were to go inside there, I’d be a stranger to the man serving at the counter.  Just as I was beginning to wonder what I was doing here in the time of my teenaged years, my stomached grumbled loudly that it was time for food.  Looking both ways, I crossed the empty street, ducking under the awning just as the first drops of rain began to fall and thunder drummed around the surrounding mountains.

Pushing the door open of the store, I heard the bell ring to announce me.  The man looked up and smiled as I approached the counter.  I never saw this side of my father – ever. This was the side everyone else saw.  I saw the strict, disciplinarian who would make me eat all my vegetables, forced me to study over my weekends while it was sunny outside and kept me from the best parties over the bay in Bestian’s Bay County.  Kids at my high school thought I was either stupid or very boring; but it was my father who kept me from having a cool social life.  I wondered just how he kept these two personalities in check the whole time… I mean, was this man really my father?  Or was all the controlling just for show?

Then, a woman walked in from out the back with a long apron on, a woman I knew well.  She worked here and I knew she did wonders for this bakery because she had come from France.  It was Celine… a brilliant pastry chef who could turn any bag of flour into the most delicious-tasting bread, lightest sponge cakes, sweetest cookies… yes, it was her.  She had her dark curls up in a hair net, but it was her.  She walked in humming a tune as she carried a tray of freshly baked, sliced and wrapped bread out and shimmied them into the trays behind the counter. 

My father walked up to her grinning, “How many more to go?”

“This is it for today, then, I have the cake for Mr. Jones to finish icing.” She replied, sounding like a backwards playing record to my ears, but perfectly fine to him.

“Good, good.” He patted her well-curved behind, kissed her on the back of the neck, and moved past her a little too close to get to the counter I was standing in front of.  It took all of my strength not to say anything to him as he turned and smiled, “Yes?  How can I help you today?”

“Um… do you have more pies left please?” I looked over at the warmer and found it was half-full.

“We have chicken, steak and kidney, steak and mushroom and vegetarian.” He said, “The last are new for the weird people who don’t like meat.” Yep, it was my father alright.

Walking to the warmer, I looked in on the pies.  They were fresh, delicious and wonderful, and I knew it, “The steak and mushroom, please.”

“Want peas with that?” he asked grabbing a plate off the shelf, “And you better eat here, just look at that rain out there.”

I turned and looked as the rain overflowed the gutters and swelled in the streets, “Wow… it’s really coming down.”

“Here ya go.” He smiled, “That’ll be $3.50.”

I pulled out my purse and pulled out a $5.00 and handed it over, got my change and walked to a nearby table.  As I sat down, with my meal, I noticed he went out the back of the bakery, where the sounds of work suddenly turned very quiet.   I tried to ignore the fact I was the only person sitting in the place eating and watched the time tick slowly by, wishing I knew what was going on, but the more I wanted to spy on the two out the back, less I wanted to know… was he kissing her?  Was he having sex with her?  Was he…? I dug my fork into the steaming hot pie.

It wasn’t my business.

The door opened quickly and a woman walked in, slamming it against the wind.  Shaking her umbrella, she dumped it in the holder, didn’t remove her jacket and let herself behind the counter.  Allowing herself out the back, I then heard what I suspected:

“How dare you!  With that French slut!  How could you?” she raced back out again.

I tried to look anywhere but where the noise came from, but failed.  Instead, I stood, leaving my meal behind and went outside and wished I had never come here.  The dampness of the wind refreshed me and chilled me at the same time as I pulled the pocket watch out of my pocket, held it close and closed my eyes, wishing I was anywhere else but here…

The Dare

Okay, this is going to be fun!  Over the next 4 weeks, we (the people on Chuck Wendig's blog and me) are going to write a 4-part story.  This is the first installment... how fun, how cool, how ... very interesting.  I'll try and keep up the other installments of 'The Dare' if I can find them along the way. 

Enjoy!

As I stand here on the very edge of the top of the fifty-second floors of ‘The Glory Hotel’, I wonder exactly how it came to be that I said yes to such a dumb idea.

Oh, yeah, that’s right… I said that it was not just David Copperfield who could fly, anyone could.

Was I drunk when I said that?  I sure hope I was, because I really hate heights; and the last thing I need is to test my humanity right now.  Turning from my perch, I look back at my stupid friends who are pushing me, throwing rubbish from the roof at me and are screaming at me to ‘do it!’ that I was a wimp if I didn’t.

Was I a wimp?

Really?

I mean I was human, but not really… you see I was born here on Earth, but I did turn out to have a few extras built into my DNA that the normal Human Being just didn’t have.

Like what?  Um… I can bench press 350kg cold.  I really can!  And yet I’m built like a weed.  I don’t look like it, but I can sucker-punch anyone into the middle of next week too.  But I’d never do it; I’m just not brought up that way – and nobody is going to force me to do that.

Other ‘skills’ I’ve been able to do is have a toughened skeletal structure… and skin that heals very quickly; and I don’t mean in 3 days, I mean as I watch it in about a minute.  This is another reason why I don’t get into fights with anyone… it would just freak the shit outa them!

And until recently – like my 18^th Birthday – I found out I not only levitate, but fly short distances.  Well, I told my best friend, and I found out what a big blabbermouth they turned out to be.

Yeah, who needs enemies when you have friends like that, right?

Well, this leads me to standing here on the ledge of the building where … oh shit on a pancake… there’s the cops all the way down there!

Turning, I glare at my ‘friends’ , “Well, jeez, Amelia, thanks.”

She meets my glare as she stalks up to me in her outfit which makes her look like a street-walker, “What?”

“Who called the cops?”

She looks over the edge, smirking, then stifles a laugh, “Oh, shit, I didn’t think they’d believe me!”

I step back from the ledge, “What!”

This is when things got deadly, and Amelia pulls a 32 out of her handbag, “Oh, no you don’t.  You are going to fly… you told me you could.”

“I told you it was a secret.”

“And you expected me to sit on that shit for how long?” she smiles, “Especially after you showed me… you’re a fuckin’ mutant, and you’re going to show everyone.”

“Shoot me first.” I say, “I’d rather be dead than be a joke.”

“Fly!” she screams stepping closer, just within reach.

“Make me!” I shout back.

Sitting on the ledge, she grimaces, “Don’t you make me…”

As soon as she looks away, I grab her wrist, yanking her to her feet, watching the gun fall away down below us, “Good, now you’re unarmed, we can get to business.”

Tears blur her vision as she struggles to get away from me, screaming into the night air, “Oh my god!  Let me go!  She’s going to throw me off the building!”

I held her close against me whispering, “Throw you?  Nah, that’s too good for you… to watch you fall, watch your body splatter onto the ground for what you’ve done to me.  Instead, sweetheart, my friend, dear… chump… I’m going to teach you a lesson about exactly what I am…”  with that, I take a deep breath and jump off the edge of the building, taking flight into the night air with Amelia screaming the whole time as she clings to me.

But, I have a plan… 

The Dare - Part Two

The Dare - Part Three

Fitting In

It's Slamming Time... two genres, slammed together to make one story.  Chuck gave us two lists and we had to pick out what we thought would make some great work.  I chose:  Sword & Sorcery and Alternate History.  Enjoy!

I spotted him sitting alone at lunch time picking at his lunch as the other kids played, screamed and ran around the school yard around him.  Richard was in his own world, as he watched the butterfly flit and flutter on the wind’s current, blind to everything around, and yet, it knew where to go – well, kinda.

He was entranced by its beauty.

I turned my attention away for a moment to pull apart two girls who had gotten into a hair-pulling fight, sending them off to the Principal’s office.  When I turned back, it was in time to see him raise his hand, open-palmed at the butterfly, while watching it with a small smiled on his face.  Then, he suddenly pulled it into a fist!  As he did, the insect was mutilated!

My breath caught and he looked straight at me. 

My mouth turned dry as I saw in his eyes nothing… a mocking kind of expression, a look of emptiness you can’t really describe – but feel.

The bell for the next class snapped me out of my trance and he packed up his lunchbox and walked towards the buildings, stepping on the dead butterfly, walking past me.

I could feel his chilliness as he ignored my attempt to say hello to him.

But I knew at that moment… right then.

I had found him.

I had found Merlin.

A few days passed by and I saw him again sitting in the library looking through books in the study area.  Some of the boys from his class were throwing balls of paper at his head, snorting as some of them got caught in his hair, calling him ‘a poofta’ and ‘whatcha gonna do, cry… go on, cry.’

The whole time, he ignored them, brushing the paper off his work, out of his hair and kept on reading the books – or so it looked like it.  I was flipping through some books to see which ones to use for the next few class reading list, writing down some titles as I found one or two I needed for my class in my notebook, when he looked over at me over his reading glasses.

The boys noticed and snickered amongst themselves little snortings and pickings about ‘a class romance’ and ‘isn’t he a little old for you?’.  He ignored them again as he turned the page of the book, but as he did, I noticed his hand wasn’t exactly touching the page.  His fingers lifted off the page around an inch or so and the page seemed to follow as though by magic.

I almost wished I had my phone or camera handy, but I didn’t.

Blinking a few times, turned back to the book of ‘Old Man and the Sea’ in my hands, decided against it, put it back on the shelf, and picked up the next book from the reading list we were offered.  When I turned back to where Richard had been sitting, I found he had gone.

His classmates had followed him outside.

This was when I heard the scream cut the air!

Dropping the book, I grabbed my notebook and raced outside where I found Richard standing his ground, while one of the students who had been picking on him in the library was in a crumpled heap in the port racks, and appeared to be not moving.

I turned to him, “Richard, what happened?”

One of the boys snapped, “He threw our friend through the air, but he didn’t touch him… it was weird, Sir.”

I looked at the boy they were glaring at and hesitantly touched his shoulder, “Richard, you can tell me.”

He looked up at me, tears in his eyes, “I wanted to tell him to leave me alone, to go away.  When I turned around, he was like that.  I didn’t touch him.”

“Sir, he clearly doesn’t fit in here…”

“It’s not about fitting in when you go to school,” I snapped, “It’s about  getting an education.  Now, I did notice he didn’t do anything to provoke you, so what happened?” I looked back at Richard and he had zoned out, looking at his feet.  He didn’t like being the centre of attention, and I knew he was going to be suspended by the Principal.

I had to call him on this.

“What he said happened… well, it happened, but we did pick on him.” One of the boys said, “But he’s a weirdo… what did you expect?”

“Okay, no name-calling, you’ll only make things worse.” I ordered, “Now, get your friend to the office, along with the rest of you lot and, Richard, you’ll have to come with me there too.  I have to report you.”

His eyes snapped up to me, “Do you have to?”

“Yes.”

“Honestly?”

This was when I knew I was working with a powerful being.  I heard a voice in my mind, ‘You don’t need to report me to the Principal.’

I smiled and said quietly, “I am not the droid you’re looking for.” A panicked expression crossed his face as I let him go first along with the rest of the boys to the Administration.

Man, Richard had it all … all inside him… how did he sleep at night?

His mind power worked on the Principal… and his parents – who had no clue what they had under their roof – and he was let go of. 

I stayed behind and told the Principal what happened.

He didn’t believe me and told me to take some time off – that I was stressed out.

He gave me three weeks off.

This meant I was suspended with pay. 

But I was sent here to find Richard and let him know of his destiny.  Being a substitute teacher wasn’t exactly the right way to do this, but observing him was great outside school.

I could really watch him in his element, which was in public.

Being a sorcerer myself, I could disguise myself and place myself at just the right places and know where he was going to be.  But there was one problem, he knew it was me every time.

He spotted me at a restaurant, at a skate park and at a busy shopping mall… and each time, I had used different disguises.  Richard would turn around and just look at me through the crowd and give me a little smile; knowing I wasn’t allowed anywhere near him, because I was just his teacher most times, most days.

Anyway, I thought to back off and let well enough alone.  I was halfway through my suspension and didn’t want to lose my job at the school; I liked teaching English, Music and Art.  I was good at them.  So, I played my piano, painted a few canvas’ and read a couple of books in the time I had left to myself.

That was until I heard on the radio of the car accident not far from my house.  I turned on the news network on the television and found it was Richard’s family who had been involved in the accident; and all of them but him had been fatally injured in it.

I packed up my bag and took off to the hospital, leaving the tv on and my canvas half-finished and all the lights on in the house.

They wouldn’t let me see him, not unless I was family.

He wasn’t in ICU, but he was being kept in for observation, and that’s all they told me.  I sat in the waiting room in the ER knowing he’d change people’s minds; and he did.

The doctor came out, searched the room for me, “He wishes to see you.”

I stood and followed the doctor into the tiny cubicle where they had him hooked up to a few things, “Hello, Richard.”

He looked at me, “Hi, Mr Harrigon.” He waited for the doctor to leave and the duty nurse to finish what she was doing and pull the curtain for us to have privacy, “You can stop calling me Richard.  I know what- who I am.” He smiled, “And you’re another Sorcerer as well.”

“What is your name, Sorcerer?”

He smiled, “Merlin.  And you are Taliesin, my father.”

“I am so pleased we have found each other… but we have much work to do, for there is a war afoot and not much time to find the Arthur of this time.”

He frowned, “That could be anyone.”

“I know, but we must find The Tor, the Sword and all the Knights as well to make the ending we wish for right.” I grinned, “Are you with me, my son?”

“You know I am, Father!” 

The Love Triangle

This week, we were given 3 tables to pick a word from each table... then to write a story from it of 1,000 words.  I chose library, a Vampire, a forbidden tryst.

enjoy!

It’s normally just on closing when I spot him from the front counter.  He walks in with his head down, with his sunglasses on, with that long, black leather jacket on, his hair spiky and weird and all the jewelled colours of green, purple and royal blue. 

It makes my meatsuit go all dewey... and I have to take a deep breath to make sure I keep myself under control.

He often glances over to me.

A smile pulls the corner of his mouth up, but just a little and my knees go all wobbly behind the counter as I pick up the microphone for the P.A system and press the button down: “It’s three minutes to closing.  Please choose your reading material and come to front counter to check it out.  Thank you for coming to the Logan North Library and have a nice day.” I put the microphone down as I switch it off and begin the walk around to check the aisles – just in case we have a few people with their ear buds plugged in and they didn’t hear the announcement.

I find four teenagers huddling in the far corner of the reference section tweeting and texting each other... I mean, what’s the use of socialising if they’re doing that?  Well, I gently tap them on the shoulders and advise them that it’s closing time with a kind smile on my face.

They grunt and pack up.

Yep, teenagers today... I could just rip their faces off.  But the human in me won’t allow it.

...won’t allow it... shit, I think I’m becoming too much of a human.

I keep up the search and look through all the meeting rooms, the childrens’ section and the toilets.  Yes, everyone’s gone, and I’m the last one here... well, me and my mystery guest who has been showing up on closing.

Now... where is he hiding?

I can almost smell him.

Turning toward the staff room, I’m confronted by his tall form as his hand is about to touch my shoulder.  His eyes connect with mine and he smiles at me.

“Hi.” I smile back.

“Hello, demon.” He grins.

“You’re the only one here who can spot that I’m not human.”

“Just like you’re the only one around here who can spot I’m a vampire.” He said dropping his hand to his side.

“But what are you doing here?”

“It’s not you I’m here for.” He said, “It’s your meatsuit.  She’s attracted to me; and I know it.” Stepping forwards, he whispered, “Deep down, I think you know it too.”

Looking at him as he steps back, I figure it couldn’t hurt to ask Alison (the human I’m possessing) if she’d like to be with this vampire.  Staggering a little, she burst forward, as though a child let out into the sun after a few days of rain, “Hi!  I’m Alison!  And you’re so ... well, um... hi.”

“Allison, huh?” he grins looking her up and down, “Pretty name.  I’m Ryan.” He put out his hand to be shaken.  As soon as she takes it, he pulls her close, wrapping his other arm around her, holding her close to his body as she takes in a deep, shaking breath of shock.

This always happens to Humans – they’re so weak when it comes to hypnotising them.

Taking in a deep breath through his nostrils, he takes in everything about her... her scent, her perfume, the smell of her conditioner, her fear of him right now.

He’s going to change that.

Yes... he can change that, right now.  His teeth elongates as his opens his mouth to allows room for them to grow – and his hunger badgers him to feed it; screams at him to fulfill it! – and he lowers his mouth to her neck as she tilts her head at just the right angle...

Alison’s body jerks and the scent changes completely!

“Dammit!” He shoves her away, “Why are you doing this?”

I smile, “You don’t get it.”

He turns and walks way, “I’m not staying unless I get Alison.”

Three days later, just on closing he’s back. He skulks around the library just before closing and he hides again – as usual – and waits for me.

Sitting at the collection of computers near the check-out desk, he watches me close down the main computer system for the night, “I don’t get what?” he asks.

Smiling I turn off the screen I have been working on, “Never mind.”

He stand and walk to the desk, “No… I’ve been around for over two centuries and women still use this crap on me.  What don’t I get?  And don’t say ‘Never mind’.  That’s crap.”

I walk around the counter, switching off the lights as I grab my bag on the way through, “Okay.  She likes you – a lot – but I love you.  I have seen you throughout the centuries go about your business and we have never been allowed to be together; not until now.  The apocalypse hit and they threw out the book, burned up all the pages… and now anything goes!”

He stood there looking me up and down, “You demons smell disgusting.”

“Oh… I didn’t know.”

“It’s your bodily scent.”

“I went to Hell… I came back like this.”

“I know. But I want Alison, please, let her go.” He stood there looking at me.  I knew he wasn’t going to leave me alone until he got who he wanted – and it wasn’t me.

“Okay.” Stepping back, I left her body, watching him catch her as she collapsed.

He truly did love her… want her… need her.

I was just in the way…

This is the one time I’ve hated being a Demon.