Tales of Night Life

Golgotha: Chapter 5

2010-06-27T07:53:00.000-07:00

Javier Santiago had been called many things in his life, but brave was never one of them. It was his first instinct upon being faced with what he thought was a vengeful spirit to run. He went with it. He managed not to scream. He was already running down the dingy stairs before the Night Rain had come out into the hallway. He looked back briefly and saw the dark figure with the flashing red eyes. He immediately turned his attention back to not falling down the stairs.

“They always run.” Wade Granby muttered under the suit. He had switched the armor’s voice modulation aspect off. The only person that could here him was a man sitting at a computer consol miles away monitoring the action through the armor’s sensor array.

“That’s one thing about pretending to be a ghost, Wade, you get no shortage of cardio chasing down frightened suspects.” Eric Granby sat behind the consol and memories of his tenure as the ‘Ghost of Quadesport’ ran through his mind. He had chased done more than his fair share of people before turning the role over to his son.

“Well, this guy is pretty damn fast.” Wade leapt into the stairwell, taking entire flights of stairs at a time. He had done this hundreds of time, and he knew he would be upon his target in a matter on minutes.

Javier continued running. He was panicked and the only direction he was heading was out of the building. He was already breathing hard. There was only one more flight of stairs left then just a quick sprint to the street. He thought he would be safe once he was out of the building. He had no reason to think that, but his mind was already over tasked with everything that was happening. He was having enough trouble wrapping his mind around what had happened in the alley, or whatever else had gone on during his blackouts. Now, the Ghost of Quadesport was after him. Javier was not sure that he believed in ghosts, but he knew something was after him and it scared him. He made it to the bottom floor, the sole of his shoe slapping the dirty tiles.

He suddenly knew something was coming. It was not the shadowy figure pursuing him. It was something new. He also became aware that he had stopped running. He had made it to the hall and was within a few yards of the door he had been scrambling desperately to get to. He saw the door, and then he started not to see the door. The last thing he was fully aware of was him turning against his will to face the red-eyed thing behind him.

The red-eyed phantom stopped as well at the bottom of the stairs. The man he had been chasing down was facing him now. Santiago had been a bit hunched over when he first saw him. He now stood straight. His face was expressionless, and his stringy black hair hung in it a bit. Santiago was certainly a thin man, but the way he stood gave an impression of confidence and strength.

“Dad, you seeing this?” The helmet’s display gave Wade plenty of information. He was able to track Santiago’s every move with it. Now in a clear line of sight the displays dumped every bit of information onto the mini-screens in front of Wade’s eyes. It also sent the information to Eric Granby’s screens where he advised and watched his son.

“His pulse and heart rate just dropped significantly.” The senior Granby noted. “You usually only see a heart rate like this from professional athletes. His core temperature is now steady at ninety-six six. Watch yourself, son.”

“You run drugs for The Crew, Santiago.” Wade said through the voice modulator. It made him sound inhuman, but if that fazed Santiago he did not show it. “Butch Kerns was murdered last night. You know who did it.”

“No.” Santiago said barely above a whisper. Wade’s helmet picked up and amplified Santiago’s words. “Butch Kerns died long before last night.” Wade was taken aback. He had been bluffing, hoping to panic Santiago into giving up information.

“Wade, this is wrong on a ton of levels. I’m seeing weird EM readings strobing off this guy. He’s got to be enhanced.” Eric was starting to worry for his son. He knew Wade had the best training possible, even better than he had when he was his son’s age. Still, he felt a very noticeable chill in his spine even in a safehouse miles away. More and more people were becoming more than people. Javier Santiago seemed to fall into that category.

“You’re not leaving until you tell me what you know.” Wade snarled and his altered voice echoed through the building startling even the most drugged out residents. He clinched his fists and prepared to charge the thin man in front of him.

“Yes.” Santiago responded. “I am.”

* * * * *

“Well?” Dennis Yi asked as he stood in the alleyway where Butch Kerns had been murdered. This case already had him in a surly mood, and the possibility of something supernatural being involved did not help his disposition one bit.

“You really can’t see it?” Lurch Rollins asked as he looked up from the dingy slush towards his fellow detectives.

“So help me, Lurch.” His partner, Phil Escobar, snapped, “If you start going on about some freaky vision thing again I’m having the LT drug test you.”

“Fine.” Lurch uttered as he pulled a handheld device from his coat pocket. “You know what this is, right?”

“That’s the EM detector.” Dennis answered. “You can measure electromagnetic signatures with it.”

“Exactly.” Lurch knelt in the icy alley and held the device right where they had found Butch Kerns’ body. He turned it on and it immediately came to life, buzzing loudly. The small meter on it was fully illuminated. “There is a ley line that runs not more than three blocks from here right through the city. It fluctuated right around the victim’s time of death.”

“So you’re saying something supernatural killed Kerns?” Dennis was wishing that he had not volunteered to accompany Lurch and Phil to the crime scene. His partner, Sharon, was still at the station checking some more files before calling it a night. She had a better disposition about dealing with cases that go bump in the night.

“Definitely possible.” Lurch stood up and turned the device off. “Dennis, are you sure Butch Kerns was human?”

* * * * *

Pilar Ruiz was trying to enjoy an old movie in her living room. As much as she wanted to lose herself in the film, she found herself distracted. Javier showing up at her doorstep had been a surprise, but she knew it was bound to happen sooner or later. It dredged up a slew of bad memories that she had wanted to stay buried. Javier was not the one who had gotten her hooked on heroin, but he certainly was not the one who helped her quit either. They had lived in the apartment together for over a year. They claimed to love each other, but really all they were to each other was someone to help pay the bills and shoot up with.

Pilar finally quit using after waking up on the floor next to Javier in a pool of vomit and to that day she was not sure whose vomit it was. Detox was hard. Rehab was harder. Not one day went by when she did not want to shoot up. Fortunately Pilar’s reason kept that urge in check. She buried herself in her job to keep herself distracted. Workaholics live longer than drug addicts. The new vice worked well for her. Her supervisors took notice of her new drive and initiative. Within a few months she found herself able to pay her bills and her rent all by herself. She was well on her way to getting out of the debt she had racked up while she was using, to the point that she was happy to answer her phone not worried that it would be a bill collector on the other end of the line.

But then there came the knock on the door, and sure enough there was her junkie ex-boyfriend collapsing in front of her. She was mentally kicking herself for not calling the police. But she let him sleep in her bathroom and gave him some breakfast the next morning while kicking him out. Had she known she would be dwelling on her past so much after seeing him she would have slammed the door in his face.

Her heart skipped and she gasped when there was a knock on her door. She clenched her teeth. She decided that if it were Javier on the other side of the door that she would call the police. She got up and adjusted the plush blue robe she was wearing before starting towards the door.

She did not make it four steps before the door was smashed off its hinges. She screamed as splinters of wood from the frame cascaded across her living room. Two men were entering the room. One was older and wearing a dress shirt and slacks under a heavy overcoat. He was rather pale with sharp features and short cropped brown hair. The other man was larger with a shaved head that had a tattoo of Japanese Oni mask on the side of it. He was wearing heavy street clothes, which despite being loose fitting did not hide the fact that he was thickly muscled.

Pilar did not have time to demand who they were before the larger man spoke.

“You can blame Santiago for this.”

Pilar did not make it to the phone.

About this month's artist: Marty Nozz writes this stuff, and is going to try to start posting these again on a regular basis.

GolGotha: Chapter 4

2010-03-08T03:27:00.000-08:00

The factory had been a Crew headquarters for just over a year. It originally had been used to make engine parts for ships, but had closed down two decades previously. There had been some attempts to move a new company in, but refitting the old building was not considered cost effective. As such, it sat waiting to eventually be demolished when someone finally got around to it, but in the meantime it served the Crew well. They kept the operation there small, only keeping what they needed there. Mostly it was a spot for getting drugs in, sorting them and getting them to the dealers.

Despite a bitter cold outside, business was going quite well. The Crew had some of their people working that evening. Mostly they were sorting a shipment of cocaine they had just received. They mixed the cocaine with baby powder to get more volume to sell. There were fires burning in fifty-five gallon drums to provide warmth. Hip-hop music emanated from a radio that sat on a table next to packages of drugs. The bass from the stereo filled the air. Amazingly enough, the people in the factory were still holding conversations as business was being conducted despite the noise that passed for music.

There were guards there, and they were armed. They displayed their pistols openly. Despite knowing everyone that was at the factory they still had their guard up. A few did so because that’s what they were paid to do. The rest were more interested in maintaining their tough persona. It was no surprise that it was one of the former who saw it coming.

It was just glimpse. Just enough out of the corner of his eye to get his attention. Just enough to get him to aim his gun at what he saw. Just enough to get him to pull the trigger after he called out to what he thought he saw and all he got in response was low laughter that he still heard somehow over the music. He was chilled to the bone when the laughter continued after he fired. The burn barrel near him did not help at all. Others were flocking to him. There were questions yelled at him. Guns were drawn. Everyone was on edge. The noise drowned out the laughter, but that first guard knew it was still there. His demands that everyone be quiet fell on deaf ears.

No one else heard the laughter until the radio was silenced. None of the crew had turned it off. They did not see what had, but they all heard the laughter then. It echoed off the walls making it nearly impossible to figure out where it was coming from. The gang began to murmur. Some thought it was the police. Some thought it was the Night Rain come for them. It was one of the younger gangbangers, still a teenager, which fired the first shot. It was the opening of the chorus of gunfire. Bullets flew in all direction, hitting walls and crates. They ricocheted off the old machinery. It didn’t stop until one of the ricochets clipped someone in the arm. Miraculously, despite well over a hundred rounds being fired, no one was killed.

None to the gang members there walked out of that building. The ones that survived said they were attacked. They said it looked like a man with long, stringy black hair. None of them said it was actually a man.

* * * * *

Dennis Yi was sick of coffee. He made a mental note to buy out the store of their supply of green tea. He and Sharon had been through over a pot of coffee since they returned to the station. Despite that, he was still ready to go to sleep right there at his desk. This was mostly due to fatigue and sleep deprivation, but the thought that sleeping would be more productive than what he was doing at the station was the dominant thought in his head.

Butch Kerns had plenty of connections and most of them had records. There was nothing obvious, and the thought of tracking down the dozens of scumbags to question them was not an appealing thought. None one on the list seemed like the type to willing to tell the police where they were at any given time, much less the night of a murder.

Dennis was hunkered over his computer. Sharon was standing next to him in the Special Crimes Unit office moving files and pictures around on the wall touch screen by her desk, sifting through all the data looking for anything that may help. They were both about to call it a night when two more of the detectives shambled in. Phil Escobar and “Lurch” Rollins both looked tired. Phil’s expression seemed like his mood matched Dennis’s. Lurch rarely showed much emotion on his face and that night was no exception.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Phil said as he checked his watch. He set his coat over the back of his chair, and them flopped down in it. The thick, scruffy looking Cuban was never really one to mince words. “And what happened to the coffee? Did Jack drink it all again and not brew another pot?”

Dennis and Sharon glanced at each other briefly. Jack Wesley was one of the newer unit members and drank enough coffee that it was theorized that a blood transfusion from him would keep a normal person awake for three days. “Yes.” They answered in unison.

Lurch did not say a word before heading off into the adjoining room. Dennis cocked an eyebrow knowing what the unit kept in that room.

“We’re working the Kerns homicide, and getting nowhere fast.” Sharon said, answering Phil’s first question. “How about you two?”

“I’m here because God hates me and sent Lurch to torture me for all my sins and misspent youth.”

“I can hear you.” Lurch called from the next room.

“I know.” Phil snapped back, reminding everyone that he is cranky when he is tired. “Lurch says something’s up and hauled me up here to dig some stuff out of the Voo Doo Locker.” The Unit did indeed handle specialized cases. Most of the force knew that there were plenty of things out there that haunted the shadows of the city. Dennis learned the hard way after he had emptied a full clip of bullets into a man who was attacking a woman in an alley, only to have that man jump right back up and run like hell. The Unit had been put together years before to handle things like that, and their equipment for doing so was by no means regulation. Lurch emerged with what looked like some scrolls and a brown, leather satchel.

“Something is up. Every Ley Line in a hundred miles fluctuated. That doesn’t happen for no reason and there were no reasons scheduled.” Lurch was very well versed in these matters. When asked how he knew about these things, his answer was always ‘college’. He was a tall imposing man, which was the main reason he had gotten his nickname. He was always dressed professionally. It was rumored that Phil had seen him without a tie on once. “There’s plenty of things that could cause this, and the vast majority of them shouldn’t be ignored.”

“So, when did this all happen?” Dennis asked as his bloodshot eyes tired to focus on his computer screen.

“Last night.”

* * * * *

Javier did not remember how he gotten on the rooftop he found himself on. The night cold grabbed him immediately. He quickly found the fire escape and descended down into the alley and out of the biting wind. He did not notice a small red stains on his hands and jacket. His head hurt and his vision was still a little blurry, but that passed soon enough. By the time he had reached the pavement, he felt completely coherent. This was new. He had not felt that way in years. His mind was racing, wondering how he had gotten there. He recognized the street he was one once he emerged from the alley. The building he was squatting at was only a couple blocks away.

He was halfway there before he realized that he was not thinking about shooting up.

Javier’s knew something was happening to him, but he did not know what. He had blacked out before, but not like this. He could remember bits and pieces, but it was memories of the sensation of movement. He knew he had been doing something, but he did not know what. He thought about visiting the free clinic to see if they could help, but spontaneous sleepwalking seemed a bit out of their league.

The building he was staying in was a dilapidated, six-story, brick monstrosity with featured that could be improved with high explosives. There were still a few apartments in it that functioned and some poor souls actually paid money to stay in them. Javier stayed there to keep a roof over his head and to keep the winter wind from cutting through him. He ascended to the fourth floor. The building was quiet at that hour. His door was unlocked just as he had left it.

The room was only illuminated by the streetlights that shone dimly through the window. The apartment had no electricity, but it did have running water most days. Javier was tired and was eager to get to the dingy mattress he slept on. He hoped that another junkie had not decided to crash there and claim it.
There was someone else there. It was not another squatter. Javier could barely see him as he stood in the middle of the dark room. He thought for a moment that he was imagining it until two red eyes flashed in the darkness. A voice that could not possibly be human pierced the cold air.

“I have questions for you, Javier Santiago.”

About this month's artist: Bridget once snorted orange-flavored Pixie Stix dust when she was younger, simply because someone dared her to. Not only would she be sneezing orange for a week after the incident, but many would blame the act for her current mental state. All evidence suggests otherwise, proving she was never the brightest sandwich in the galaxy even before the lapse in judgment.

Golgotha: Chapter 3

2010-01-24T08:26:00.000-08:00

Detective Dennis Yi was still in a bad mood. He had not gotten much sleep. His morning regiment of tai chi managed to get him through the early part of the shift, but as the afternoon wore on he found himself weary and ready to call it a day. Fortunately his partner, Sharon Montessi, was well rested and was nice enough to buy Dennis what was to be the fifth cup of coffee of the afternoon.

They had spent the morning looking up information on the victim. James “Butch” Kerns had recently done a stretch in prison for possession and assault. Seems it did not take him very long to get back together with his old crew once he got released. A Glock was found at the scene. It was currently being checked for fingerprints, but there were traces of gunpowder on Kerns’ hand so it was most likely his. His neck had been snapped and that was likely the cause of death. Hopefully there would be more information soon.

Kerns was big man. His size, muscle and disposition to use both worked him up the ranks in the Crew, which was one of the street gangs that were looking to try to get control of the narcotics racket in Quadesport. Kerns was labor, not management. Seemed the management liked him though. There were a lot of rumors and allegations about Kerns but not a lot of evidence.

Dennis and Sharon had revisited the crime scene. Forensics still had not found either of the bullets from gun, which was bit surprising since there was not a lot of room in the alleyway. It was just another piece missing to the puzzle.

“This is getting us no where.” Dennis said between sips of coffee.

“Relax Den. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours yet. We’ll have something soon.” Sharon was looking at the surroundings as she spoke to her partner. There had been rumors as to their partnership. Sharon was an olive-skinned, buxom brunette who knew how to use her looks and charm to her advantage. Dennis was a trim man and not very striking in appearance. He had heard repeatedly how lucky he was to have Sharon for a partner. He was indeed lucky. Sharon Montessi was third generation police and one of the finest detectives Dennis had ever worked with. She was certainly easy on the eyes, but when Dennis looked at her all he saw was the best partner he’d ever had.

“I’m just not seeing this.” Dennis said as he looked at where it had marked where the body was found.

“I’m having trouble walking through it myself. Kerns is confronted here. He’s armed. He shoots, but we can’t find the bullet. There’s blood, but that’s from Kerns.” She looked to Dennis. “He hemorrhaged, right?”

“That’s what they’re saying. His neck broke and something burst inside him. It caused blood to come out of his mouth and nose as he was lying there.”

“Ick.”

“We’ve seen worse.”

“Still ick.”

“But how did his neck break? Our witness said the man confronting Kerns was trim. Kerns is a big bastard. I don’t think the other guy broke it.”

“It’s pretty icy out here. He could have slipped. Broke it in the fall.” Sharon did not bother looking at Dennis and cut him off before he could reply. “I know. That’s ridiculously thin.”

“I think we should shelve the ‘how’ and try to get at the ‘why’.”

“You’re just saying that so we can get back to our desks and out of the deep freeze.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Hell no.” She answered. “It’s freaking freezing out here. Let’s go see what we can dig up on our dead guy’s friends list.”

* * * * *

Javier spent the day scared. He was afraid to go back to the building he had been squatting at. While his memories of the previous night were hazy at best he remembered enough to know that people were not happy with him. He knew there would be risks selling drugs for the Crew, but their money was good they had plenty of heroin not only for profit, but also for his own personal habit. He knew it was stupid to use what he was told to sell, but he did not think they would try to kill him for it.

His thoughts bounced back in forth between wondering how he was going to survive his angry employers and trying to figure out where his next hit would be coming from. Most of the other dealers he knew already worked for the Crew so it would be stupid to go to them. He sat in a church basement eating surprising decent vegetable soup as he pondered this. He was surprised how hungry he was, and how good everything tasted.

He knew the church well. He would come into their soup kitchen on a regular basis. Seemed that no matter how much dope he sold he never had enough money to feed himself and his habit. The staff typically gave him his food and left him alone. When he first started coming to the soup kitchen councilors would come and try to talk to him. The attempts became less frequent as the months went on.

Javier looked up from his soup to see one of the councilors looking at him. He knew the man from his previous visits, but couldn’t recall his name. The councilor looked at him curiously. The man was stout and appeared to he in his fifties. His deep dark eyes peered at Javier over his glasses that rode low on his nose. His black hair was gray at his temples and a bit of the gray had crept into his mustache. The man approached, and Javier felt immediately uncomfortable.

“Hello, Javier.” He said softly in a deep baritone voice. He stood across the table from Javier and gripped the back of a chair as if he was preparing to pull it out to sit, but was waiting for an invitation.

“Hi… um… how do you know my name?” Javier stammered. The confusion was obvious on his face.

“We’ve spoken many times.” The man said after a heavy sigh. “I’m Silas. I’m one of the councilors here at St. Gregory’s.”

“Yeah. I know that much.” Javier was feeling nervous and embarrassed. “Sorry, I’m not very good at names.”

“It’s alright. May I sit?” Silas asked gently, fully prepared for Javier to tell him ‘no’.

“Um… sure… I guess.” Javier felt bad. He knew he was in for a lecture and to be bombarded with information about support groups. Silas sat down across from him and looked Javier over as if he was studying him.

“How’s the soup?” Silas asked as he clasped his hands together and placed them on the table in front of him.

“Its… really good. Thanks.”

“Good. You look like you needed a good meal.”

“I was really hungry.” That felt weird. Javier did not usually think about food. The contents of his stomach usually took a back seat to the contents of his veins.

“Good. When did you stop using?”

“What?” The question hit him like a punch. He pushed his stringy black hair out of his face.

“It’s been a few weeks since you’ve been in here, and I barely recognized you.”

“What are you talking about?’

“Relax, son. I’m not here to preach to you. I’ve seen a lot of people come through here. I know addiction when I see it. You don’t have to be ashamed. In fact, you should feel proud that you’re trying to get cleaned up.” Silas was smiling, but Javier felt a bit scared.

“Why do you think I’m trying to get cleaned up?”

“You’re actually talking, for one. And I can see it on you. You look a lot healthier than you did.
There’s new life in you, young man, and that’s something to be celebrated.”

Javier sat silently for a moment. Despite looking calm, he was freaking out internally. He wanted to run. He wanted to flee that church so badly that his legs twitched. He slowly put down the spoon he had been eating the soup with, and stood up slowly. It took all the effort he could muster not to bolt for the door. He needed a hit. He wanted one so badly at that moment that he thought his brains were going to explode.

“I have to go.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“If you ever want to talk, you can find me here.”

Javier left quickly. The freezing night air assaulted him. He headed into an alleyway to get away from the wind that was attempting to cut through him. His head kept hurting. He felt like he needed to keep moving, so he did. He did not know where he was going. As he walked briskly through the icy alleyways of Quadesport the cold was bothering him less and less. He was not thinking about where he was going, but he was obviously heading somewhere.

He wanted to stop, but he didn’t. He could not feel the cold air, or his feet sinking into the dirty slush on the pavement anymore. He could not see where he was moving anymore. Finally, he could not see nor hear nor feel anything anymore. He felt fear, but that got pushed away. He wasn’t the one pushing it away.

He did not know what was happening, but he knew he was moving.

* * * * *

Wade Granby had spent the day researching Butch Kerns. He knew every associate the man had. He knew where he liked to hang out. He knew where the man did his business. He had studied the police reports from top to bottom. He also knew Dennis Yi and Sharon Montessi were on the case. If something was going to go bad, he wanted to be able to protect them from it. They were damn fine police, but there were some things even the best police are not prepared to handle.

And when Carson Rogers calls from Laslo University and tells his father to look into something, it was going to be bad.

Wade was in his armor as soon as the sun set. The Night Rain armor was cutting edge and allowed him to make his way across the city undetected. The theatrics that went into convincing people that a person is an urban legend, or even better a vengeful spirit of a slain thief, were easily accomplished by the armors many features. It was designed not only to protect the wearer, but also to scare the hell out of people.

It did a good job of that. Wade had visited over a half dozen associates of Kerns. They all talked, some quicker than others. Some showed a bit of backbone, but Wade quickly convinced them that it was easier and healthier to answer his questions.

The last time Kerns had been seen he was going to run and errand for the Crew. That errand was to take care of a two-bit junkie dealer that was using product instead of selling it. Wade Granby was the Night Rain, and the Night Rain was looking for Javier Santiago.

About this month's artist: Kat is a doodler from Texas. She likes comics, monsters, and an assortment of old stuff. Someday perhaps she'll get off her lazy duff and make one of them thar comic doohickeys. For now, though, it's all about the random sketches. She thinks that Hellboy is awesome and believes that you should think so too.

Golgotha: Chapter 2

2010-01-08T11:36:00.000-08:00

Dennis was all right with freezing weather. He also did not mind having to be working in the middle of the night. It was the combination of the two that bothered him. At that hour there was no getting a good cup of hot coffee, even in Quadesport. The freezing slush on the sidewalk mercifully had not soaked through his shoes yet as having cold, wet socks would be the final barb that would drive him over the edge and possibly lead to him assaulting one of the colleagues.

Then again they were in the same boat he was in. All of them were standing in an alleyway shivering and wondering why a known gangbanger was lying face down in slush that was dyed red around him. Officers responded to a call from residents in the apartment building adjacent to the alley reporting shots fired and someone screaming. The forensics officer was already hard at work and Dennis was not sure why he had been called in on the case. He and his partner Sharon, who was no doubt curled up in a nice warm bed, usually caught special cases. Special in this case meant the type of cases no one else would want to deal with for the sake of their sanity. Dennis would not have even gotten the call if not for the fact that he happened to have been in the neighborhood when the request for SCU assistance went out.

The officers at the scene told him that the man who called the police had witnessed part of what happened. Dennis was happy to hear it, not only since it would help the case, but also the apartment building had to be more pleasant than being outside in that weather. Another officer was already talking to witness when he got to the apartment. The witness was a trim man in his mid-twenties who looked like he really needed some sleep.

“Detective Dennis Yi.” He said as an introduction as he showed the man his ID. “I understand you saw something, Mister…”

“Constance. Kevin Constance.” Kevin and Dennis shook hands briefly. “Yeah. Am I going to have to go to the station tonight?” Kevin looked like he dreaded the thought and the fatigue on his face made it obvious as to why.

“Hopefully not.” Dennis said with a smile to try to comfort the man. “I know you went over everything already.” The officer gave a nod and held up his notebook. Dennis gave him a nod back. Even in the middle of the night everyone was on the ball. “Would you mind going over things one more time for me and then we’ll leave you alone to get some rest.”

“Sure thing.” Kevin answered followed by a small sigh that came out more like a yawn. “I was adjusting my window when I heard yelling from the alley.”

“Adjusting your window?’

“Yeah, this building is pretty old and my bedroom window sometimes slips a little and lets in a draft.”

“I see. Please go on.”

“Well, I hear a guy screaming ‘you’re dead, you’re dead’ and that’s when I heard the gunshots. I looked out the window real quick and saw the guy in the alley struggling with another guy.”

“What did the other guy look like?’

“I didn’t get much of a look, because once I saw what was going on I went for my phone to call 911. It looked like a thin guy with long black hair. I looked again after I had grabbed my cell phone, but by the time I had gotten it and got back to the window the guy was just lying in the alley and the other guy was gone.”

“Any idea which of them was threatening the other?”

“What do you mean?”

“The person screaming ‘you’re dead, you’re dead’.”

“Oh. That was the weird part.”

“How so?’

“Whoever was yelling that didn’t sound like he was threatening anyone. He sounded scared to death.”

* * * * *

Javier came to in a bathtub. He was lying on his side and the first thing he was aware of was the smell of vomit and feces. He was sore all over and his body complained as he moved to right himself. He realized that the vomit and feces were his own. He started to pull himself up and out of the tub. He recognized the bathroom. It was Pilar’s, and much cleaner than the last time he had been there.

He peeked over the edge of the tub he saw a black garbage with a note on it.

“Don’t you dare come out of there until you put your filthy clothes in the bag and bathe yourself.”

He stripped down and tossed everything into the bag except his wallet, which luckily was not damaged from him soiling himself. He knotted off the top of the bag and turned on the shower. The hot water pounded him back into something resembling human. Washing himself was a chore. He still had a lot of trouble moving, but he managed to get himself cleaned up. He could not remember the last time he had a good shower and felt that clean. He emerged soon and dried off. He wrapped a towel around himself and peeked out of the bathroom.

The apartment had been completely redone since he had lived there. The furniture was new and everything was neat and orderly. The wall-mounted flat screen television was on the morning news show. It hardly seemed like the same place. Pilar was in the kitchen, already dressed and sipping a cup of coffee. She immediately saw him and glared at him.

“There’s some of your old clothes next to door.” She said coldly and went back to sipping her coffee. Javier looked down and there was some clothes folded neatly on a table.

“Th-thanks.” He stammered and quickly grabbed the clothes. After dressing himself, he emerged and walked slowly to the kitchen. Pilar continued staring icily at him. Javier sheepishly returned her look. “Thanks for…”

“Save it. You’re not staying.”

“I understand. I’ll get my stuff out of there and go.” His stomach growled audibly.

“Jesus. When was the last time you ate something, Javier?” She pulled a bagel out of a bag on the counter and tossed it to him. He caught it, which seemed to surprise them both.

“I don’t remember. My head’s… really fuzzy, right now.” I began quickly devouring the bagel.

“That’s nothing new.” She jabbed at him, but something was new. She saw something in Javier that was different. It was his eyes. There was something there again. “You’re still using.”

“I am. I was. Something happened last night. I can’t really remember.”

“I don’t want it or you around me anymore.”

“I know.” He said after finishing the bagel. “I know that. I’ll get my things and get out. Thanks Pilar.” She tossed him another bagel, which he also caught, before going to the bathroom and retrieving the trash bag with his soiled clothes. He was moving a lot easier now. There was still a weight on him as he walked but it was something different than what Pilar remembered. Before, the chemicals and poisons that he filled himself with to escape his existence chained him. Now there was something different upon him with every step.

Guilt.

* * * * *

The cell phone rang in the middle of him pounding away on a heavy bag. Even after pounding away for several minutes his breathing was still even. He took a break from the bag to answer, but was eager to get back to work.

“Hey. Dad.”

“Get to a safehouse, Wade. Something’s up.”

About the artist: This month's artwork is courtesy of the very talented Amy Lou Kirner.

Golgotha: Chapter 1

2009-11-15T03:28:00.000-08:00

The city of Quadesport was no stranger to dead bodies. The nightly news always lead with tales of violence and lives lost, and those stories were hand picked from too many like it to see which would get the best ratings. The death of Javier Santiago would not be reported. No one cared about another junkie drug dealer who had enough of his own product in himself to kill him twice over. With that much heroin oozing through his veins, Javier did not care either as he took his last rasping breath. It did not matter to him that it was not him that plunged the needle into his arm that last time. Darkness enveloped Javier, and even though something deep down inside him screamed at him to be afraid, to try to struggle against it, it was already too late. He did not feel the dirty ice and slush that he lay in. He did not hear the people in the street that could not see his motionless body prone in the alley. He did not care enough to fight. He did not care enough to breath. His last heartbeat was an apathetic one.

He expected nothing. Part of him hoped for it. Part of him railed against it.

The darkness was short lived. He saw the alley again through a dream-like haze that made it seem like a distant memory. He saw the icy slush on the pavement and the shape of what had been a very then body laying in it. There was something whipping around the edges of the blurred vision. Long, black, curly hair, which Javier knew was his, but he did not feel the wind that moved it.

His vision blurred. He thought he was moving. He thought his spirit was going to wherever it was going to go. He could not comprehend what he was seeing, as if his eyes were not working properly. It was hard enough to see when he was not moving. Now it was near impossible to make out anything but blurry, dreary colors. There were occasional flashes of light. Most of them were white; some of them were colored brightly. He heard things that he could not comprehend. Sometimes it sounded like voices. All the sounds were horribly distorted. He still felt nothing. He could not smell anything or taste anything.

Javier thought he was descending into Hell. The part of him that still cared cursed himself for not going to church more, and not being a better person. It waited for the pain of eternal suffering to start. The part of him that did not care simply continued to be led on not knowing nor wanting to know what was happening to him.

The motion seemed to change direction often. The blurs were racing in front of his vision, only to suddenly change directions. The distorted sounds he heard would fade and them become louder again. For a moment Javier descended into darkness again. He returned to see the blurs still moving, and then suddenly stop.

There was someone in front of him. Javier did not know where he was. All he could make out was that someone was there. He tried to speak, but nothing came out. He thought the person in front of him was a man. He looked big. Much bigger than Javier, which was not difficult feat. Years of drug abuse had left him skinny and frail. He heard the man speak. He could not understand a word that was said. Some part of him knew the man was speaking English, but Javier try as he might did not understand a word.

The man moved. It looked like there was something being offered to Javier. No, it was being pointed at him. Despite the distortion of every sound Javier heard, the sound of the gunshots was unmistakable. There was a flash of light that had to have been from the barrel of the gun. Javier heard the gun bark twice before darkness claimed him again.

When Javier next perceived anything it was the sight of a man lying in murky gray. There were blotches of red around him and on him. The man was big, like the one that had the gun. Javier could not tell if it was the same man. He wanted to look around, but could not.

Then he heard a high-pitched distorted sound. It seemed like a few seconds passed and then everything visual was a series of blurs again. The high-pitched sound faded. The part of Javier that cared was scared and confused. The part that did not care was starting to get unnerved as well. This wasn’t Hell. This was something else. This is not what is supposed to happen when you die was the only thought Javier could form.

The blurs slowed again. Javier did not know how long it had been. His concept of time was completely gone. He saw an alleyway. Then he felt the cold.

His vision cleared rapidly. He blinked repeatedly; clearing up the last bit of his sight as if he had just woke up. He heard traffic not too far away. He smelled the heavy air from the river. He felt the cold. Then he felt a gnawing relentless pain wrack his body. He convulsed, dropping to his knees. He vomited a watery mess onto the slush-covered pavement. He felt faint.

Javier managed to stand. He wrapped his arms around himself, clutching his body tightly. Slowly, he began to walk. He stumbled more than once, nearly falling, but managed to keep his feet. He wanted a hit. He wanted one badly, just to get away from the pain and cold. He had no more heroin. They had injected it into him. He had wasted their product on himself, and when he did not have their money, they decided to let him enjoy what he had left of their product.

He stumbled for several blocks, catching gazes from the people still out in the cold in the dead of night. A drunken guy who looked college aged, just slightly younger than Javier, threw a beer bottle at him for the amusement of his friends. Still, Javier kept going. He knew the apartment building was close.

His legs were shaking uncontrollably by the time he made it to the apartment building. He was dressed warm enough. His body wanted to collapse again, and Javier drove it onward not from willpower, but from desperation. He still had a key to the building.

The heat when he entered the lobby nearly caused him to pass out. He stumbled to the wall and used it to support himself once he got through the door. Anyone else would have found the temperature in the building a pleasant change from the outside’s February cold. Javier was not equipped to enjoy anything at that moment. This made climbing the stairs to the third floor nearly unbearable. He stopped at the second floor to collect himself before continuing. There was nobody around and the only sound he heard was a television from one of the apartments.

He shuffled down the third floor hallway until he arrived at his destination. He clutched his fist weakly and hit the door barely making an audible sound. He coughed and sputtered, then renewed his effort. He was fully leaning against the doorjamb as his loose fist collided with the word door over and over again in a steady percussion that even Javier could barely hear.

He was on the verge of giving up when he heard the chain rattle. He heard the deadbolt turn and then the doorknob. The door swung open. There was a beautiful Latino girl in her nightclothes standing on the other side of the door with her hair falling just past her shoulders. Even though she was obviously enraged at the disturbance, her anger did not distort her face. Her feelings were clear in her deep brown eyes. The anger seemed to fade a little when Javier finally spoke.

“Pilar,” He said, and despite him using all of his effort to speak it came out a whisper. “Help me.” Javier immediately fell forward into Pilar’s apartment.

This month's artist: Is the one and only Mark Osborne.

2009-11-02T03:11:00.000-08:00

"Last night I dreamed I witnessed the first skirmish of the last battle. What sounded like jets flying overhead was angels coming down for combat. They routed the enemy by their sheer presence, and the enemy retreated, or so it seemed.

As one of their leaders praised his multitude he was struck down by an assassin. He found himself bound by a rusty iron ring which pinned his wrists to a small stone pillar. The pillar rested on a cart which was drawn through a city of a world I could barely comprehend.

Even though he was killed, the leader of Angels wept, for he knew where he was being taken.

And he knew he wouldn't be the last."

From the journal of Sasha Cameron
Age 15

The Learning Curve: Chapter 5

2009-08-31T20:02:00.001-07:00

CC was only vaguely aware that she had been slammed into the block wall behind her. The blast of air that had seemly exploded out of her room had launched her into the room across the hall from hers and into the far wall. The impact did not hurt, but CC knew that it should have. She stumbled away from the wall and looked up to see Gunther, Ellison and the man she did not know rush into the room. She lunged at them and did not know why.

“Grab her!” Gunther cried as he attempted to restrain her.

“What the hell is she doing here?” Ellison yelled as he also tried to grab CC. CC’s mind was reeling. She flailed and struck at the two men. She did not want to and tried to stop, but she could not. She tried to speak but could not. The man in the dark suit hung back. There was something strange about his eyes, but in the confusion CC could not process what it was. He was speaking again in what CC could only assume was Latin. He began to approach her as the noise from the struggle, Gunther and Ellison’s yelling and the man’s speech faded to silence.

She felt her mouth move but the voice that came from it was not hers.

“You cannot stop us! They shall rise and claim their dominion over man! They shall start with this one!” CC was still flailing against Gunther and Ellison, but they had each grasped one of her arms fiercely. To her surprise, they were having trouble holding her. They both seemed to be very strong and fit, yet they struggled to hold her. She wanted to scream. She heard the voice again, but this time did not feel her mouth forming the words.

“Give yourself to me, Cecelia Tucker.”

She refused.

“Give yourself to me, and serve the Masters of this world. Theirs is the power to deliver you.”

She asked what the voice was talking about.

“Uninitiated! You know not the secret history of this world; it’s place and role in this plane of existence. I can teach you. I can make you understand so that you my revel in your new Lord’s service.”

She demanded to know who was talking to her.

“I am of the many. I am the seed, which will grow and strangle the light of the world. I am you.”

She denied the voice. The man in the suit was over her. Her eyes were drawn to the amulet hanging around his neck. It was silver and had a heart shaped stone in the center of it.

“You are nothing. Your only hope is through me.”

She felt her thoughts becoming cloudy. Her body still struggled against the men holding it, but it was as if she looking through someone else’s eyes. The man in the suit reached out and covered CC’s face with his hand. She saw nothing but darkness now. She could not feel anything. All she could hear was the voice.

“You shall be given pleasures you can not fathom. You can revel in your lust and have your desires filled. Give yourself to me and legions will give themselves to you.”

CC rebuked the voice. It was then that she began to feel something. It was sharp and feral and it was all over her body. She wanted to scream.

“This is the fate of those who stand before us! Open your eyes and look upon the Pillar!”

CC vision was obscured. She saw nothing only darkness. She felt as though she could not breath. The sharp pains were in her chest, as if something were digging into her.

“Your spirit will be inscribed upon the Pillar! Forever shall you know its weight! Accept the Masters! Only their grace can spare you from the Pillar!”

CC now knew pain that she had previously not thought possible. Even worse in her mind was how powerless she felt. She felt violated and was not even sure how. She hated the voice. She hated it and every word it uttered. She hated every vile idea it had suggested to her. She hated the pain it inflicted. She hated the numbness even more. She cursed it. With every fiber of her agonized being she wished it to hell.

“Banish me and your pain shall be eternal!”

In a rage, CC Tucker wished a gruesome end be visited upon the voice. The pains stabbed through her mercilessly. Coherent thought left her. She saw nothing. She heard nothing. She knew only the pain.

And then she saw the ceiling of the room she was in. The hand of the man in the suit withdrew from her face. She was lying on the floor. Gunther and Ellison eased their grip and looked at each other.

“Miss Tucker?” Gunther asked as the man in the suit left the room. “Are you alright?” CC muttered something incomprehensible. There was an elated smile on her face. Her body relaxed and her eyes closed gently. She sighed softly as endorphins flooded her body in reaction to the pain she had just been in. Combined with the previous night’s lack of sleep, CC Tucker’s body rested peacefully. Gunther and Ellison did not have time to panic before she began to snore.

CC woke up back in the room she had stayed in the previous night. She was wearing a set of soft green pajamas. There was a glass of water and note on the nightstand. She sat up and slowly sipped the water. She checked the time on the digital clock that sat on the nightstand. It was ten thirty at night, over twelve hours since what had happened. The note instructed her to go to a room on the floor below when she was ready. She found her keys and wallet on the dresser as well as her clothes, which were neatly folded and laundered.

She took her time getting dressed. She felt well rested, but still she felt uneasy. Her body ached. She wanted what had happened to be a nightmare.

Once she was ready, CC followed the note’s instructions. She walked down the hallway, then down the stairs. She passed the lobby where she had coffee with Chad. A young man was sitting at the table reading and making notes. She walked past the vending machines and turned a corner to find the room she was instructed to go to. The sign of the door read: “Doctor Carson Rodgers. Professor of Archeology.” After a little hesitation, she knocked on the door.

“Come in.” She heard Doctor Rodgers call from inside. When she opened the door he looked genuinely surprised to see her. “Miss Tucker! I didn’t expect you until tomorrow morning.” He got up from behind his desk and walked around it to offer CC a seat. The office was very organized, and looked comfortable. She took a seat in the black leather chair by Rodger’s desk. One thing she quickly noticed about his office was that there were no pictures. There were a few certificates hanging on his wall, but CC did not bother reading them. There was another door in the office near the desk.

Doctor Rodgers had a kind face. His dark eyes were warm and friendly, but betrayed weariness. That fact that he kept his head shaved did not seem intimidating. His complexion was that of milk chocolate. CC had never thought much about the professor other than how boring his class was. She now saw him in a whole new light.

“I want answers.”

“Chad warned me about that.”

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re going to be fine. You were examined by a physician; who will be happy to speak with you in the morning if you’d like. She recommends rest and some Motrin for any discomfort.” Rodgers took a seat behind his desk.

“What the hell happened to me?”

“You fainted. There was a gas leak in your dorm room. Everything’s fine now.”

“BULLSHIT!” CC cried out as she leapt from her seat. She slammed her hands down on Rodgers’ desk. “Don’t you dare lie to me!”

“Miss Tucker…”

“Who was the man in the suit with necklace? I know you’re assistant and that Ellison guy were there!”

“CC, please! I’m afraid your still a bit disoriented from the gas leak.” Rodgers’ voice was even and soothing. It did not help. Her head sank and she cursed under her breath. Her anger was quickly giving way to hopelessness. She knew she was not going to get anywhere with questioning these people. Rodgers, Gunther, Armstrong, the Ellison Brothers and now the man in the suit; they were all in on it. Whatever horrible thing that had happened, they were not going to let CC in. Deep down, she knew that they must have had their reasons. Still, she did not care. She turned to leave.

“Can I go back to my dorm room?” She asked coldly.

“Of course. Everything’s fine now.” He responded. She walked to the door.

“Will you at least tell me what the hell the Pillar is?” She asked as she opened the door.

“What did you just say?”

“The Pillar. What is it?” CC turned and her eyes met Rodgers’. He sat there. The warmth fell from his face and he sat expressionless. Slowly he stood up, and moved to the door.

“Come with me.” He gave the order and made it sound like a suggestion. He opened the other door in the office and ushered her through it. It led to a small landing and a staircase leading down to the building’s basement level. They descended the stairs. Rodgers’ was silent and his silence bore enough weight to keep CC from speaking. At the bottom of the stairs there was an unmarked door. Rodgers opened it.

The room inside had every wall practically covered in bookshelves. It smelled like old books and newsprint. There was a table in the center of the room where Chad Armstrong and Tommy Ellison were sitting reading. They quickly looked up and Rodgers and CC entered.

“What’s she doing here?” Chad asked looking more than a little surprised.

“They mentioned the Pillar.” Rodgers said.

“In that case…” The man in the suit was standing in the corner. CC could have sworn that he was not there when she had come in. The suit was the same. The Heart’s Blood Medallion still hung around his neck. “… it seems we have a new player in the game.” He walked towards her. She could tell he was older, but could not even begin to guess his age. His hair was dark and had no gray to it. His face seemed weathered and years shown upon it. His eyes looked as old as the world and sparkled like rare gemstones. “My name is Dante Amethyst. Welcome to our world.”

It had been one day since CC Tucker’s main concern was hooking up with a cute guy at a party. Her mother had told her that college changes a person and makes them grow. She had not expected this. One word. One thing that she knew she had heard. That was enough to change her life forever.

This month's artist: Mister CM Frank.

Report

2009-07-31T07:08:00.000-07:00

Name: Ronald Rhodes
Position: Detective, Special Crimes Unit
Date: July 30, 2009

After reporting to station and arming ourselves, my partner, Detective Jack Wesley, proceeded to continue our efforts to aid in the quelling of violence that has gone one for several days. At 1000 hours we received a call about a break in at 2560 Weston Avenue. We arrived on scene at 1015. The suspects were still inside. We entered and announced. The suspects claimed to have explosives. At this point we began evacuating the building and called for the bomb squad. I encountered the suspects on the third floor. There was an exchange and they announced their intention to detonate the bomb. I saw the trigger and was forced to exit the building through the window. The bomb was detonated and the suspects attempted to escape in the confusion. Detective Wesley and I apprehended them as they exited the building. Fire and Rescue arrived soon after as well as a wagon to pick up the suspects.

At 1320 received a request for back up at Anderson Street. Police was engaged in a firefight with suspects. Detective Wesley and I joined Detective Escobar, Detective Yi and Detective Montessi as well as other officers involved. We managed to overrun the gang’s makeshift barrier and breached 566 Anderson Street where the gang was occupying. There was an exchange of gunfire. Most of the suspects surrendered. Some of them were shot. A few of the suspects were heading for the roof via the stairs. Detective Wesley and I pursued them as the others secured the floor. We received fire on our ascent and returned fire. Detective Wesley wounded one of the suspects. Detective Wesley subsequently caught a round in his calf and was unable to continue pursuit. I continued to the roof.
The events after I reached the roof are unclear at this point. It’s my belief that due to the prolonged activity in the heat my perception was distorted. I could not find the suspects on the roof. I was confronted by a man wearing dark clothes. He was pale and appeared to be in his mid-forties with blond hair. No distinguishing marks or features. There was a verbal exchange as I ordered him to surrender. I was distracted by a cry for help and saw a woman who appeared to be in her mid-twenties with auburn hair. She was wearing a white dress. When I looked back to the man, he was gone. The woman was gone as well. Detective Escobar arrived at the roof right afterward.

We went back down to help Jack. EMTs and the wagon had arrived. We loaded up the suspects and I accompanied Detective Wesley to the hospital. This concludes my account of the events of the day.

The Learning Curve: Chapter 4

2009-07-22T02:59:00.000-07:00

The room was the nicest one CC had seen on the campus. It was not very spacious, but it was much friendlier than any of the dorm rooms she had seen. The walls were plastered and painted a faint blue color; which was a great departure from the off-white block walls of the regular dorms. The private bathroom was a luxury after having to share a bathroom with eleven other girls on her floor. She took a long, hot shower and then retired to the bed. She drifted off quickly.

The events of the evening had raced through her mind before sleep finally claimed her. Encountering James Ellison, the party, Steve, whatever the hell had happened back in her room. Mostly she thought of Tonya. She was not sure what had happened. She wanted answers. She felt angry at the whole situation, and it seemed as if circumstance was attempting to make her a victim in series of events playing out. That notion flat out galled her.

Her sleep was restless. She woke up more than once in the middle of the night. When dawn finally arrived she still felt tired. She got up and dressed herself in the same clothes she had wore the night before. She was not sure what to do with the key Chad had given her. She was sure the use of the room was not a permanent thing, but she liked the thought of it. CC debated leaving the key on the dresser, but pocketed it instead.

She exited the room and went down the stairs to the lounge that was at the entrance. It was still early and there was no activity in the building, but she heard a few radios and TV fainting from the various rooms. Chad was sitting at a table with a cup of coffee that was obviously from a venting machine. He looked up from the book he was reading and saw her.

“Morning, Miss Tucker. How did you sleep?” He smiled warmly.

“Not very well. Chad, right?” She approached the table.

“That’s right, Chad Armstrong, at your service.” He offered her his hand, and she took it. He then gestured for here to sit. “You want some coffee. It’s not Starbucks, but it’s hot and does the trick.”

“Um… yeah. Cream and sugar, please.”

“Coming up.” Chad got up and went down a hallway to the vending machines. “Sorry you didn’t sleep very well, but after your night, I don’t blame you.”

“Yeah, it was pretty weird.” CC did not want to ask, but the thought was driving her to distraction. “Speaking of weird, what kind of name is Chad Armstrong for a Chinese guy?”

“The kind a Chinese guy gets when he’s adopted.” Chad answered as he returned to the table with her coffee. He set the cup in front of her and sat back down. “Now, I imagine you want to go back to your room and you have a ton of questions about what happened and about your roommate.”

“Well… yeah.” CC was a little put off by the fact that it seemed like Chad had done this many times before.

“First off, your roommate is fine. She’s still at the hospital, but she’ll be released today. I called about her a little bit before you came down.”

“That’s good.”

“Now, about your room, I have to ask you not to go back there for a while.”

“What? How long is a while?” CC snapped at him. She was still tired and her temper was starting to flare. Chad raised a hand gently to calm her.

“Just a few hours. We’re going to make sure that everything’s alright in the room.” Chad spoke evenly and calmly in an attempt to use his tone to try to sooth CC.

“Who’s ‘we’? What the hell happened? What the hell’s happening now?” CC snapped again, and her face was starting to redden.

“Miss Tucker,” Chad speech was firmer now. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you what happened in your room, but I can assure you that the people who are there now will make sure it doesn’t happen again. Think of them as cleaners.”

“Like I should think of you as security.” CC got up and took up her dup of coffee. Chad thought for a moment that she was going to throw it at him. “Thanks for the coffee.” CC turned and began towards the door.

“It’s just a few hours Miss Tucker.” Chad got up from the table and started to follow her. She spun towards him.

“I’m going to get some breakfast.” She said curtly. Her tone let Chad know that she was no longer interested in anything he had to say. She was in no mood for secrets or people thinking they were clever for having them. She left the building and went to the dining hall.

There were not many people up at that hour on a Saturday morning. She passed a handful on her way to breakfast. The morning air was cool on her skin and finished the job the coffee had started in waking her up. The sky was clear and the sun was casting long shadows along the old buildings of Lazlo University. She sat alone at the dining hall and ate silently. She did not particularly care for the food there, but had learned to live with it.

She weighed her options the entire time she ate. CC’s first instinct was to return to her room despite Chad’s warning. She thought about making her way to the hospital to check on Tonya. She tried to call her with her cell phone, but the call went straight to Tonya’s voice mail. Either her phone was off or it just had no signal in the hospital. CC wanted to know what had happened. She wanted answers. She wanted to be able to tell Tonya what was happening when she saw her.

She headed for her dorm room. She walked quickly, practically stomping all the way. Her frustration showed on her face. She was out of patience.

She got to her dormitory building and saw some girls gathered in the lobby. She paused for a moment and recognized the girls as the ones from her floor. She went into the lobby and spotted Liza, a girl she had chatted with a few times before.

“Hey Liza, what’s everyone doing down here?”

“Oh, hey CC! You just getting in?” Liza responded with a smirk suspecting that CC was returning from a tryst.

“Yeah, after the commotion last night, I didn’t want to stay in the room so I stayed with a friend.”

“Oh, that’s right! That was your room?”

“Yeah. So, what’s everyone doing down here?’

“Oh, some faculty guys said they needed us to leave the floor for a little while. Something about checking for a gas leak.” Liza said with a shrug.

“A gas leak?” CC cocked an eyebrow. She did not believe that for a second. “My entire ass.” CC marched past the group of girls. Liza said something, but CC was not listening. She went from the lobby to the staircase that led to her floor. She muttered obscenities under her breath with every step.

She got to her floor and the moment she stepped out of the stairwell she felt it again, the cold. She saw her breath mist in the air. She heard shouting. It was coming from her room. She heard words she did not recognize. It sounded like Latin, but she was not sure.

“Gabe, duck!”

“Dammit! Hurry this up, Doc!” They were male voices, angry and guttural. She heard things crashing. Wood was breaking. Glass was shattering. She had not heard any of that in the stairwell. For an instant she wanted to retreat back to the lobby. Her resolve to find the truth overcame that urge. She rushed down the hallway and turned the corner to she her room door wide open. CC came to the doorway.

It was like a miniature tornado in her room. Her and Tonya’s personal items were flying in all directions. The beds were overturned. The mirror was shattered. In the middle of the storm were Mister Gunther and Tommy Ellison. Both were trying to protect themselves with their arms. Tommy’s ponytail was whipping in the indoor cyclone. There was another man in the room who was seemingly unaffected by the event in the room. He wore a gray business suit and faced away from her. He was speaking in the language CC had heard but did not understand. He had dark hair that was cropped close and was not moving in the wind whipping through the room.
There was no wind in the hallway where CC stood. She was frozen there, transfixed by the sight in front of her. The air around her was completely calm until Tommy looked at her.

“RUN!” He shouted as the wind exploded from her room and blasted her back into the room behind her.

About this month's artist: Linda Jean made the time to get this piece done despite a very demanding schedule. Thanks, Linda!

The Learning Curve: Chapter 3

2009-07-02T11:56:00.000-07:00

“You so much as flinch and I’m going to melt your stupid face off.” It was an exaggeration obviously. CC Tucker knew full well that the pepper spray she had aimed at the guy who she had snuck off with would not actually melt anything. However, the threat did stop him from advancing towards her. “I scream and this room is going to be packed with people.”

“Calm down. I just want to talk.” Steve put his hands up in a submissive gesture.

“Yeah, well, I just wanted to fool around a bit with a random guy at a party, but then your Creep-o-meter started clanging off the charts.” CC kept the pepper spray aimed at Steve’s face and was very aware of the distance between them. If he rushed her, she would not be able to dodge him in the tight quarters of the bedroom. She also knew that if she wanted to get out of the room it would have to be through Steve. “Now you talk, asshole. Everyone freaks out when these Ellison guys are even mentioned. I don’t even know them! I have a professor in common with one of them and I ran into the other earlier tonight. I. Don’t. Know. Them. What the hell is everyone’s deal around here?”

“Stop pointing that at me.” There was anger in Steve’s voice.

“No.” CC answered sternly. The word had barely escaped her lips when Steve rushed her. CC hit the trigger on the spray, but Steve stretched out his hand and blocked the spray from reach his face. He grasped the small spray can and jerked at it, trying to wrest it from CC’s grip. The young blonde kicked upwards as soon as he gripped the spray. The kick struck firmly in the groin and with a loud grunt Steve winced and began to stumble backwards. He released his grip on the spray and CC took the opportunity to douse Steve’s face. He wailed in pain as CC shoved him aside and bolted for the door.

She was vaguely aware of the steady stream of profanity that was spilling from her lips as she descended the staircase. Slowly but surely the heads of everyone at the party looked to her. She stopped at the base of the stairs. No one spoke. The music continued to play. CC glanced around the room. Bitter feelings twisted her pretty face.

“Steve’s an asshole!” She shouted and then headed straight out the door. She had made it to the sidewalk by the time Tonya ran out of the house in pursuit.

“CC!” She shouted, but her roommate did not break stride. “CC, wait!” Tonya finally caught up with her and saw raw anger on her face. “What the heck happened in there?”

“Damned high school garbage.”

“What?”

“That jerk Steve got me into a room and freakin’ grilled me about those guys. The twins.”

“The Ellisons?”

“Whatever. Screw this scene. It’s just like the cliques back in high school.” CC fumed as she walked down the Row. She and Tonya got catcalls much like they did on their way to the party but instead of offering a smile in return CC gave them the finger.

“What? It wasn’t that bad in high school.”

“Easy to say when you’re popular. That crap’s over. I’m not going to be judged or interrogated just for talking to a guy I barely know.”

“CC, hold on a minute.” Tonya grabbed CC’s arm and brought the pair of them to a halt. CC’s still looked quite angry but she was not going to take it out on Tonya. “I asked about those guys. There’s a ton of rumors about them.”

“So what?”

“So, none of them are good. I think the girls in the sorority are just trying to look out for us.”

“Yeah, well I didn’t ask them to. Go on back to the party. I’m heading home.” CC turned and headed up the Row and towards the dormitories. Tonya followed and quickly caught up. CC tossed her a questioning glance.

“The music wasn’t really working for me.” They both smiled and looped their arms with each others. They left the row and made their way across the campus to their dormitory. There was still quite a bit of activity on the campus. A few dedicated students were coming from and going to the library. The campus movie theater had a bit of a crowd. Tonya and CC did not say much during their walk home. Tonya wanted to ask about what had happened in the room with Steve, but she held off, not able to think of how to broach the subject.

They had planned on having a snack and watching a movie when they got back to their room. When they opened the door they were stopped in the doorway by a rush of cold air. They entered and were surprised that they could see their breaths misting in the air.

“What the hell?” CC went straight to the heating and air conditioning unit by the window as Tonya turned on the lights. The unit was off. Both girls felt goose bumps rise on their skin. “I’m calling maintenance.” CC said as she headed to the phone. She stopped short when she saw Tonya standing rigid in the middle of the room. “Tonya?”

Tonya did not answer she just stared blankly at the mirror. It was the same mirror CC had been looking at when she thought she saw something earlier that evening. Now she could only see a message. The cold and humidity in the room had put a layer of frost on the mirror. CC did not think the room was cold enough to produce frost, but it seemed the mirror had a different opinion. There was a message written in the frost:

“I’m coming.”

CC looked closer at the message. While the frost prevented her from seeing a reflection, where the words were written the mirror was clear. Something was looking back at her. She looked quickly at Tonya and them back at the mirror and saw her own eyes in the reflection. Without a word she grabbed Tonya by the arm and pulled her out of the room.

“Tonya!” CC nearly shouted at her friend whose face was still blank and expressionless.

“What?” Tonya replied. She was blinking quickly and looking around. “What just happened? What’s happening?”

“Screw maintenance. I’m calling security.” CC pulled out her cell phone and quickly dialed the campus operator. It wasn’t long before security arrived and the dormitory was buzzing with activity. By the time security did arrive, the temperature in the room had returned to normal. There was no evidence of there ever having been a message on the mirror. Tonya was taken to the hospital. She seemed to be in shock.

CC sat on a bench in front of the dormitory. She had been told that it was all right for her to go back to her room, but her gut feeling was to stay as far away from it as possible. The night air was crisp and clean. It helped her relax a little. She thought about sleeping on the couch in the dormitory lounge that night.

She looked around. The evening was peaceful. It was nearly midnight and only a few of the students were out. Most of them were either sleeping or already wherever they wanted to be that evening. The area was well lit, but there were spots down the road that ran along the dormitories that the streetlights did not fully illuminate.

In the dark area were two people. CC focused on them. They were men and the same size. They seemed to be looking at her, but at the distance she could not tell for certain. They were joined by a third man and for the life of her CC did not see him approach the other two. The one began walking away from the others and towards the dormitories. The other two began walking down the sidewalk in the other direction. They walked out of the darkness briefly and CC swore it was the Ellison Brothers.
“Bullshit.” She said to herself. “You’re tired and your mind’s playing horrible tricks on you.” Then she saw that the third man was walking towards her. CC continued talking to herself. “So help me if this guy is coming to me and gives me an ounce of grief I’m going to quit this stupid school.” The man did indeed walk to her. The area around CC was very well lit and CC recognized the man as the young Asian fellow that had nearly run her over on the stairs earlier that day. He stopped short, keeping his distance.

“Tucker, right?” He said with a gentle smile.

“Um… yeah…” CC did not know how this guy knew who she was, but she already did not like it.

“I’m Chad. I heard something weird happened in your room. There’s a suite over in Ellis Hall that you can stay in if you want.”

“What?”

“You can get some of your things out of your room if you want. I’ll even come with you.”

“Are you campus security?”

“Something like that.”

“’Something like that’ isn’t going to cut it.”

“I understand. You’ve had a rough night.” Chad fished a very plain key ring out of his pocket. There was only one key on it. Chad kept his distance and tossed it to her. CC caught it. “Good hands. Anyways, it’s an open offer. Stay there or not, it’s up to you.”

“And why do I get this open offer?”

“You’re not the first person to have a rough night around here.” Chad smiled and nodded. Then he turned and walked away. “Room 212.” He called back to her without turning around. He walked away leaving CC staring at the room key. The offer of a soft bed in a suite was good, but more than that she wanted answers. Her gut told her she might find some in Ellis Hall room 212.

She went with her gut.

This month's artist: Is Hawaii's lovely and talented Kai Lee.

The Learning Curve: Chapter 2

2009-06-15T09:30:00.000-07:00

The fall chill had already arrived and was making its presence known that evening. CC and Tonya made their way to the lane of houses that comprised the “Greek Row” where the majority of the fraternities and sororities had their houses. The girls heard music playing even before they got to the Row. Almost every house was hosting a mixer that evening. The street and sidewalk were mostly clear, and those that were out on it seemed to be freshmen like Tonya and CC whom were attempting to find their destinations.

The houses on the Row were obviously built later than the main building on campus. The Gothic architecture and cobblestone walls were replaced by colonial styles and modern siding. All of the houses were two or three stories and had the Greek letters representing the different organizations displayed proudly on the porches by the front doors.

CC was smiling. The parties going on looked promising. She helped Tonya look to try to find the Kappa Theta Kappa house, but as of yet they had no luck. They did receive a few catcalls and whistles from some of the fraternity houses, and more than one invitation to join the festivities.

“This is going to be great!” Tonya chirped, reiterating the same sentiment she had been exposing the entire day.

“Yeah, although if we don’t find the house soon, I may take someone up on their offer.” CC eyed a few fraternity guys waving at them to join their party.

“Don’t be such a ho bag.” Tonya teased as she entwined her arm with CC’s in an effort to keep her from straying off. “The mixer is going to be a lot of fun. Julie promised to introduce me to all the girls and they sound really awesome.”

“Alright, alright. I’m not going to bail on you.” CC barely got the words out when she spotted someone dashing out from between the houses. The Row was well lit, but it was difficult to make out who it was until he was nearly upon the girls. “WHOA!” CC shouted at him as her hand went into her pocket to grab her pepper spray.

The guy came to a halt on the sidewalk in front of them. It was the student that CC had seen Mister Gunther talking to before her class earlier, but it took CC a moment to recognize him. He was not wearing his cowboy boots and had found the time to get a haircut after she had seen him last. His dark hair was uncombed and spiked out in places as if he had trouble keeping it under control. He wore a black leather jacket, which the chill in the air did not warrant. His jeans were loose fitting and faded. He looked at the girls was deep brown eyes, and offered them a smile which looked to CC as if it was as practiced as Julie’s had been earlier that day.

“Sorry to startle you.” He offered by way of an apology. Tonya clung tighter to CC’s arm and CC did not release her grip on the pepper spray in her pocket.

“You’re Tommy, right?” CC asked and both the young man and Tonya seemed surprised.

“No, Tommy’s my brother.” The young man said keeping his distance.

“You look a lot alike.”

“We’re twins. You know Tommy?”

“We both have Professor Carlson for anthro.”

“I see.” The young man was glancing around but trying not to be obvious about it. “Doctor Carlson is a great teacher.”

“If you say so.” CC could not see the appeal of Carlson. His lectures were about as entertaining to CC as watching paint dry.

“Say, do you know where the Kappa Theta Kappa house is?” Tonya asked, finally unclenching from CC arm.

“You’re almost there.” He answered. He gestured with his head towards the house, which was only a few more houses down the row, while keeping his arms at his sides.

“Great, thanks.” Tonya started walking with CC right behind her. They passed by the man without saying another word. Once they thought they were out of earshot, Tonya said softly to CC, “That guy seem kinda weird to you?”

“Yeah, just a bit. We didn’t even catch his name.” CC glanced back at where he had been standing. She caught sight of him hurrying down the Row away from them. She saw a splatter on the sidewalk where he had been standing. She did not pay it much attention, and barely registered that the spot was red. “I bet it was Tommy and he thinks he’s funny.”

The Kappa Theta Kappa house was bustling with activity. The house was like all the others on the row. Some of the girls had taken the time to hang some Christmas lights on the porch to make the place stand out for their guests. CC and Tonya agreed that it was a cute touch. There were a few girls on the porch, chatting over their drinks. The front door was wide open and Julie was waiting right inside at a table. It occurred to CC that the only time she had every seen Julie was in front of or behind tables. Either she was very dedicated to the sorority, or she had a habit of drawing the short straw.

“You made it!” She shouted over the music that filled the house. “I’ve got name tags for both of you!” The tags were the standard stickers that read ‘Hello, my name is’. CC wasn’t thrilled with the idea of having to wear it, and briefly contemplated writing something weird on it. However she filled it out as did Tonya and stuck the tag on her shirt. “Did you have any trouble finding us?”

“Not really.” Tonya answered. “A friend of CC’s showed us where to go.”

“Oh, you have a friend on the row?” Julie asked through her permanent smile.

“Just a guy from class. I don’t really know him. He was screwing around and claiming he was his own twin brother.”

“It wasn’t one of the Ellison brothers was it?” Julie’s smile was starting to look forced.

“Who?” CC raised an eyebrow.

“James and Tommy Ellison. Those guys are really creepy. You’re better off avoiding them.” Julie seemed earnest in her advice, but that only got CC’s curiosity up. More girls entered before CC could ask Julie more about the brothers, and Tonya was pulling her away.

CC met dozens of girls that evening and if held at gunpoint could not be made to remember a single name besides Julie’s. Tonya however was in her element. She seemed to program the phone number of every girl they encountered into her cell phone. A few of the boys caught CC’s attention. One in particular, who was a ‘sweetheart’ for the sorority, caught her eye. His name tag identified him as ‘Steve’. Steve was tall and muscular with brown hair that looked like he spent time making it look like he spent no time on it. He was talking to a small group of girls. CC made her way over to them as Tonya was programming yet another number into her phone. She had had a few drinks and her courage was up.

“Hi Steve.” She said after waiting for just the right lull in the conversation to speak up.

“Oh hi… um…” He checked her name tag. “CC. Um, did we meet already?” CC pointed to his name tag to show how she knew his name. Steve looked down at it and the recognition clicked in. “Oh… DUH!” He laughed and CC giggled. He was cute, and seemed not terribly bright at the moment. “Are you having a good time?”

“Actually, I was hoping for a tour of the house.” Her eyes caught his and held them. She smiled.

“Oh, sure! It’ll be my pleasure.” Steve ushered her away from the main party towards the kitchen area. She felt a little bad about ditching Tonya, but Tonya seemed to be enjoying herself. CC figured it was time to enjoy herself too.

Steve showed her around the kitchen and dining room area, which were the only places on the first floor CC had not seen yet. They ascended the stairs. There were a few girls up there as well, mostly looking around and seeing how they liked the house. Steve talked about the sorority and the house and bunch of other things that CC did not listen to. She was hoping to find a place to have a bit of fun with Steve, but he said something that disrupted her search.

“So, I hear you know the Ellison brothers.”

“What?” CC was caught off guard by the remark. She turned from the bedroom she was looking at to Steve. “Not really. I have a professor in common with one of them and I ran into the other one earlier.”

“So… there are two of them.” Steve’s demeanor was changing quickly. The semi-dense, smiling sorority sweetheart had just taken a very serious sounding tone. He gave CC a slight shove into the empty bedroom they were looking at and enter behind her closing the door behind him. “I’m going to have to ask you a few things.”

CC reached into her pocket for her pepper spray.

About this month's artist: Marty Nozz wrote all the stuff you just read. All five of you.

The Learning Curve: Chapter 1

2009-06-01T05:18:00.000-07:00

Cecelia Catherine Tucker was facing her most difficult decision since entering Lazlo University. This would affect not only the rest of her time at the university, but also possibly the rest of her life. She stood at the table looking in front of the campus dining hall mulling over her decision as dozens of other students passed by her, never running into each other, yet so much in their own little worlds that they were seemingly oblivious to everyone around them. She contemplated going into old Gothic style building that was the dining hall to mull over the decision. At the very least she would not have to decide on an empty stomach. Unfortunately, she stood transfixed. She was trapped, unable to move. Her captor wore a sweater branded with select letters of the Greek alphabet and a smile that seemed permanent.

“So are you interested in rushing Kappa Theta Kappa?” Her name was Julie. She had been sitting behind the table for the better part of the morning. She made sure that every last item on the table was laid out perfectly and was easily seen by any passer-by, and should those passer-bys happen to look she was prepared to deliver the sales pitch which she had just inflicted on one Cecilia Tucker.

Miss Tucker was tempted and yet unconvinced. She shifted her weight back and forth and brushed her long blond hair behind her ear. Her soft hazel eyes studied Julie as she pondered what it would be like to be wearing a Kappa Theta Kappa sweater. Her roommate Tonya was already going to rush the sorority, and it seemed like fun. She had heard stories about parties with fraternity boys and much drinking. She could not bring herself to ask Julie if any of these stories were true, because if they were not, she was not interested.

“CC!” She heard from behind her and recognized the voice immediately as Tonya’s. She turned to see her friend bouncing up to them. Tonya was a bit taller than CC, which was the nickname she had since first grade where the two had met. Tonya had gotten her brown hair cut short, which she deemed her ‘college’ look. “Hi, Julie! Have you talked her into it yet?”

“I’m working on it, Tonya.” Julie responded with a smile.

“Come on! They’re having a mixer tonight! I don’t want to go alone.”

“Alright, I’m in.” CC said finally with a shrug. Then she turned to Julie. “Just make sure there’s some guys there to mix with.”

CC and Tonya had lunch together in the dining hall. Tonya spent the meal chatting about how excited she was about possibly joining the sorority. CC mostly just nodded and looked about for boys she could deem worthy of classifying as ‘eye-candy’.

From there CC went to the first of her afternoon class. As a freshman she had the last pick of classes and she loathed her schedule. She had only one class that afternoon, but it was an anthropology course which bored her senseless. However, since she had yet to declare a major she was stuck taking the university’s requirements for liberal studies. She made her way across the campus and paid no attention to the building with their old cobblestone with the ivy attempting to overtake it at many points. She had lived there for an entire month and still had not noticed the gargoyles that sat perched atop many of the roofs. She came to her destination and moved with the flow of students into the building, and started up a flight of stairs to her class.

“Coming through!” An Asian man, a few years older than CC came barreling down the stairs, slicing through the mass of students in his way effortlessly. He muttered something by way of an apology as he passed by. CC thought of saying something, but another student beat her to it, yelling at the man, who had already turned the corner and was gone.

CC walked to the classroom with a few minutes to spare. Standing outside of the room were two men. She recognized one of them as her professor’s assistant, Mister Gunther. Gunther was an imposing man who did not seem to fit her idea of an academic. His blond hair was chopped short as if he was in the military, and he had a mustache and goatee. Gunther was talking with a student, but it was not one from CC’s class. He looked like a freshman and dark long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. She had seen him before around campus. His cowboy boots made him stand out.

“Just see if you can find the books, Tommy. I know there’s a lot to go through.” Gunther said in a rather hushed tone.

“Don’t worry, Gabe. I’ve got this.” And with that the student hurried off, with his boots clicking on the tile floor as he hurried away. CC shrugged and passed Gunther as she entered the room. She took a seat near the back of the room as the professor entered. Gunther followed her in and sat in his usual seat at the front of the room. CC was hoping she would be able to stay awake for the class. She had already been caught napping once and was still embarrassed by it. She knew it would be difficult, as she could not think of anyone more boring than Doctor Carson Rogers.

* * * * * * * * * *

She had managed to stay awake in class, but despite that, she could not remember a bit of what the class was about. She was happy to have her classes over for the week and found herself looking forward to going to the sorority mixer that night. She dumped her books on her desk, where they would in all likelihood stay until Sunday when she would frantically try to complete her reading assignments.

She and Tonya spent about an hour after dinner picking out their outfits and getting made up for the mixer. Each had vetoed the other’s selection at least twice.

“Gawd!” CC griped. “There had better be some damn hot guys at this thing.”

“Well, we’re mostly there to see if we want to hang with these girls. The guys are just a perk.”

“They better be damn perky if they want me to join.”

“Oh come on! You don’t think the idea of joining a sorority is cool?” Tonya asked as she made some adjustments to her hair.

“I guess.” CC replied as she applied some make-up. The two were sharing a mirror in their dorm room.

“Oh, once you get there, you’re going to have a blast.” Tonya grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste and headed for the door. “Be right back.”

“Sure thing.” CC watched her go and then turned back to her reflection. In the glass behind her image there was a person. CC gasped and turned quickly. She was alone in the room. She looked back at the mirror to see nothing but her face looking shocked. “Gawd.” She groaned. She felt silly for letting her mind play tricks with her. Tonya returned soon after.

“Ready?”

“Hell yes! Let’s go find some beer and cute stupid boys.” They both laughed.

“Whoo. Did it get chilly in here all of a sudden?” Tonya asked. She passed CC and turned the heater up. “I don’t want to come home to a freezing room.” They left for the mixer. Despite the heater’s best efforts, the room did not get any warmer.

About this month's artist: Bridget once snorted orange-flavored Pixie Stix dust when she was younger, simply because someone dared her to. Not only would she be sneezing orange for a week after the incident, but many would blame the act for her current mental state. All evidence suggests otherwise, proving she was never the brightest sandwich in the galaxy even before the lapse in judgment.

Roads Not Taken: Chapter 5

2009-05-15T03:24:00.000-07:00

“It’s over.”

“I wish it were that simple.”

“What else is there?”

“That… depends on you.”

It had all gone to hell. Cole Buchannon’s worst-case scenario was playing out right in front of him and despite is beastly strength and speed he was powerless to stop it. The training had been fruitless. His efforts had been in vain. He was going to die at the hands, claws and fangs of his fellow monsters, and he knew he would not be the last.

Michael Bralter approached the group in the woods. Cole had seen him transformed before during the brief training earlier that day. The strength in Michael’s werewolf form was obvious. He had taken incredibly well to the training. Cole had been positive that Michael would be able to resist the sway of the full moon. But there Michael was. Cole did not want to think about what had happened to Michael’s wife and young daughter. It was all on him. His mistake has cost them their lives, and would soon cost Cole his.

The vampire that had become a wolf clenched its jaws hard, biting deeply into Cole’s arm. His accomplice gripped Cole fiercely keeping him on his knees. Cole struggled against them, but they had the strength and leverage to hold him. The pain Cole was in was a minor annoyance compared to the dread and regret he was feeling.

The blond vampire that was the ringleader was smiling. He watched Michael approach and stop near him. In it’s animalistic style a werewolf was easily controlled by the mental powers vampires developed over time. Once under a vampire’s control it would obey it’s master whenever it transformed. The blond shot Cole a condescending glance and then turned to Michael.

“Leave him alone!” Cole snarled, his transformed vocal cords struggling to form words.

“Shut up.” The blond said flatly. He walked forwards Michael. His other accomplice flanked him. Cole continued to try to pull away, but was held fast. He snapped his wolven jaws at the vampire holding him, but it did not faze his captor. The blond stared at Michael intently. “You’re all mine now.” He said calmly and Cole knew he was taking control of the poor man who was just a victim in all of this.

“Like hell I am.”

Cole was shocked and he was not the only one. Michael Bralter had just spoken. The vampires holding Cole loosened there grip ever so slightly as the surprised hit them. That was more than enough for a desperate werewolf to take advantage. Cole got a foot under him and pushed himself to his feet. The powerful motion threw the vampire off balance causing him to loose his grip.

The blond vampire turned to see Cole getting free. He had no time to utter any commands before he felt Michael’s claws digging into his face. It was a simple slashing strike, but enough to take about half of the meat from the front of his skull. The blond barely managed with his remaining eye to see Cole manhandling the vampire that had transformed into a wolf. It was already trying to change into something else when the sickly sound of its neck breaking was heard by all. It was the last thing the blond vampire saw.

The fight had been short but brutal. The nature of the combatants demanded it. Cole had one more thing to teach Michael, and that was the proper way to kill a vampire. When it was over Cole and Michael were left standing. Both were sore, but the bleeding was quickly stopping. The bodies of their opponents would combust once the morning sunlight hit them. Both men took on their human forms and returned to Michael’s house.

Cole was washing the last of the blood off of himself in the utility sink in Michael’s garage. The wounds were already healing nicely. The pain was still there, but it was not the worst he had felt. Not even close.

“Here.” Michael offered Cole a bottle of beer, which Cole accepted with a smile. “I see myself needing a lot of these tonight.” Michael took a long drink from his bottle, and shivered a bit. “God. We killed them.”

“They weren’t human, Michael. Don’t forget that. And don’t forget they had every intention of killing your family just to get to you.” Cole took a drink from his beer. It had been a while since he had one, and he realized he had missed it.

“I know that… it’s just… it should have been…” His took a moment to find the right word. “Harder. It should have been harder.”

“I know what you’re thinking. You’re wondering if maybe you’re on your way to becoming a killer despite what you’ve learned.” Michael leaned against the wall in him garage. His eyes told the whole story. He was still scared. “Look, I’m not going to tell you that you’re out of the woods. Yeah, you’re dangerous, but you know that, and knowing that is what’s going to keep your family safe. You’re also a target now. You’ve got power, and that’s valuable.”

“You think more vampires are going to come after me?”

“Vampires or something worse.”

“Worse?”

“There’s lots of nasty stuff out there.” Cole reached the interior of his jacket, which was lying on Michael’s workbench and pulled out a business card. He handed it to Michael who looked it over. There was a phone number on it, but nothing else.

“If you think something nasty might be heading your way, you call that number.”

“Is that your number?”

“No but they can get a hold of me, or they can send someone else to come check on you.”

“I don’t know what to say.” Michael studied the card for another moment. “Thanks.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Cole took another drink.

“God, I don’t know how I’m going to explain any of this to my wife.”

“You’re on your own there, man.” They both chuckled.

“What did you tell your family after you got bitten and you knew?” There was a long pause after Michael asked that question and he saw the smile leave Cole’s face. He knew he had just touched a raw subject. Cole did not give him the chance to back peddle.

“I don’t have much family. Only family I still talk to is a cousin I see maybe once a year. I was going to get married. Then I found out the hard way about all… this.” Michael stayed silent. He wanted to apologize for bringing it up, but could not get the words out. “Marissa was taken from me. Lost some very good friends. Hell, I lost just about everything. I don’t want that to happen to anyone else. Getting bit didn’t bring me into this. I got bit for payback. I got bit to put down monsters that treat people like a walking meal.” Michael saw anger flash in Cole’s eyes. He was not angry with Michael. Despite Cole’s talk about protecting people Michael knew that the man who had saved him and his family that day had a vendetta.

“You could start over, Cole. I know it hurts. God, I can actually smell it on you, which is freaking me out a bit. But seriously, man. You’re life isn’t over. There’s no reason you can’t still find someone.”

“Oh, I’m looking for someone, but that’s business. The rest of my life is on hold.” He slowly ran his fingers along the stubble on his cheek. He let out a heavy sigh. “Whether you tell you family, or try your best to keep it from them, just hang on to them. You fought for them tonight. Don’t stop fighting.” Cole finished his beer. “Because it sucks if you lose them.”

Cole left after that. Michael Bralter spent the night in his living room thinking about his future. More than once he checked out of his window to see if anything was lurking in the yard. He checked on his sleeping wife and daughter. He thought a lot about Cole Buchannon. While he was thankful that the road Cole traveled brought Cole to him when he most needed it, he was more thankful that he was not on that same road with him.

About the artist: Owen Gilbride is an experimental musician from New Brunswick, Canada. When he isn't devoting all of his time to getting synthesizers to make scary noises, he enjoys churning out abstract colour patterns in Photoshop.

Roads Not Taken: Chapter 4

2009-05-01T19:45:00.000-07:00

“Come with me, we can be together forever.”

“That’s not you.”

“Of course it’s me.”

“No. I wouldn’t kill you.”

It was dusk, and Cole was nervous. The training had gone well. Michael had been a much better student than Cole had been. Still, Cole was not certain about the training paying off. He had told Michael that the training would let him be in control once the moon came up. What he had not told him that there was a very good chance that it would not work. He had considered restraining Michael or telling him to just take off for the night and get away from the situation. That would have shaken Michael’s confidence, and confidence was what he needed. If his will faltered then the day’s work would have been for nothing. Then Cole would have not only keep those wanting to take Michael away at bay, but also try to save the man’s family from him.

Cole sat on the steps to Michael Bralter’s house and waited. His clothes were loose fitting despite his large frame. His jacket was heavy as he had it stocked with things he knew he would need soon. Cole was not sure what he had told his wife about his presence on the stairs. She had not said anything to Cole’s knowledge about it, and he was thankful not to have to deal with that inconvenience.

It was a pleasant enough evening in the quiet suburb. People had returned from their commutes to work. Lights were on in the houses as they settled in with their families. The air was crisp and cool. The sun had just set, but the moon had not risen yet.

Cole pondered the situation as he looked at one of the houses. His keen eyesight could clearly make out a young couple playing with their toddler in the living room. There was a time when that was all he wanted. A part of him still wanted it, but he knew it wasn’t in the cards for him.

His daydreaming came to halt when he spotted their scents on the evening breeze. He looked around and saw a fine haze down the street. It would have been over looked by anyone not familiar with what to look for. It was a mist, the same kind the visitors the previous evening had vanished into.

“Cute.” Cole looked away from the haze for see a man lunging at him. The man was thin and pale with brown hair. He was wearing a black buttoned and trousers. The man snarled as he lunged revealing a set of fangs. “Too bad I’m not stupid.” Cole sprang from the steps and grabbed at his assailant. He caught hold of the vampire’s arm and pulled him forward and down. Cole had successfully sidestepped his attacker and grabbing the now off-balance vampire, drove him face first into the cement steps.

“UK!” The creature stammered as Cole jerked him back up to standing. Blood covered its face and Cole noticed it was now missing several teeth, including one of its fangs. It was flailing wildly in pain and did not even notice Cole pulling a wooden stake from the interior of his jacket. With a grunt Cole impaled the vampire, piercing its heart. The creature went limp in his arms. Whether it was truly dead or just in a state of shock Cole did not now. What he did know is that this was one down. Unfortunately, it wasn’t one of the ones from the previous evening.

“Let him go.” Cole turned. The mist was gone. In its place was the blond vampire from before and he had three others with him. Cole recognized two of them from before.

“Kiss my ass.” Cole replied with a smirk. He tossed the body of the impaled vampire over his shoulder and broke for the woods. The weight of his undead hostage did not slow Cole down much. Cole had already triggered the change. His skin felt like it was burned and his muscles screamed in protest as they spasmed and convulsed, yet were still made to run.

Cole was familiar with his path. It was the same one he used when he confronted the vampires the first time. He glanced over his shoulder, and saw them in pursuit. One of them had taken the form of a wolf. Cole grimaced, not from the pain, but in the knowledge that these four would not be as easy to dispatch as the first one. The first one obviously was the rookie of the pack and had not yet turned how to transform himself.

Cole made it to the woods in a matter of seconds. Whether or not anyone saw the chase, he did not know nor care. His shoes were feeling loose around his transformed feet and he slipped out of them as he ran. The transformation was complete, and with that, Cole came to a halt. He turned and saw the four vampires. They had stopped too and were moving to surround him. The gray wolf that the one vampire had become stalked between the trees looking to try to get behind him.

Cole rose up to his full height and held the limp body of the staked vampire by its shirt in his outstretched claw. His dark brown fur blended in with the dark woods, but the vampires had not trouble seeing him.

“Give up, wolf. We’re going to take our friend back one way or another.” The blond vampire said calmly. The others hissed at Cole, ready to pounce on him. Vampires were tough to actually kill. Sunlight was out of the question. He did not have the means to burn them either. That left decapitation or completely destroying their hearts. The stake may have done the job, but then again it might not have. There was only one way to be sure.

Cole released his hostage and struck with his other clawed hand. He was a blur of motion. The body had barely begun to fall before its head was taken off. Cole heard the pine straw on the ground rustle softly and knew the wolf was making his move. He heard the leader curse as he caught sight of the wolf in mid-leap towards him. He backhanded the wolf, sending it flying into a tree. It slumped to the ground, but quickly got it’s feet back under him.

Cole turned and roared at the blond vampire. “You’re not getting him!” He shouted in a guttural inhuman voice. He quickly noticed that he saw only two vampires. The leader was smiling and one of his henchmen from last night flanked him. Cole did not have time to look for the third before he felt its hands on him. It was materializing out of mist and clutching for Cole’s throat. It hissed as Cole attempted to throw him off. The vampire’s strength was nearly equal to Cole’s and the last thing the massive werewolf wanted to do was get into a wrestling match with it.

He heard the pine straw rustle again. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the gray wolf leaping at him again. Its jaws were open and poised to tear Cole’s throat out. Cole got his arm up and the wolf’s teeth sunk into it. The pain shot up Cole’s arm. The vampire grabbing Cole stomped down on the back of Cole’s knee, driving him down.

Cole felt the fur on his head getting grabbed roughly and jerked back. The blond vampire was walking over to him with his other minion right behind him. Cole struggled to break the grips of those holding him, but they redoubled their efforts and kept him on his knees.

“Idiot.” The blond vampire sneered. “What did you think was going to happen here? Did you think you were going to kill us and then somehow stop Bralter from killing his entire family?” He laughed cruelly as Cole continued to struggle. “The moon is up, wolf. I wonder if his wife and daughter screamed when they saw him change. Do you suppose they begged him not to hurt them? “

“Go to hell.” Cole snarled. He stopped struggling when he smelled it. There was a new scent in the air.

“I suppose we’ll get to find out soon enough.” The blond smiled. He smelled it too. He turned back to the suburb and saw it skulking through the woods towards them. It was another werewolf. This one was a lighter brown than Cole and not as massive. It was wearing a pair of now stretched, Navy blue sweat pants. It quietly made its way towards them.

They all knew it was Michael Bralter.

About the artist:Erick Barroso was born in San Sebastian, Spain. He majored in visual arts though specialized in photography. Nowadays he works as a designer. He likes music, he likes it a lot. Probably that's his foremost hobby and everything he does he does thinking in a song. He likes soccer, though maybe he's most interested in the visuals of soccer than in anything else, more exactly, he loves soccer jerseys, they're the best. Oh... and he likes colors. A lot.

Roads Not Taken: Chapter 3

2009-04-15T04:07:00.000-07:00

“We’ve got to go!”

“No!”

“Adrian, I’m sorry! They’re gone!”

“Shut up, Cole!”

The night had been uneventful. Cole had returned to the woods and camped out there. It was chilly that night, but it had been a long time since cold weather had bothered Cole. There was no trace of the three that were stalking Michael Bralter. Cole knew he had not scared them off. They would strike the next night, hoping to recruit Bralter to their group as they had down to others.

As the sun rose, Cole made his way to his motorcycle, which he had concealed on the edge of the woods. He rode the Harley Davidson a few miles to a stretch of farmland that he had passed on the way to Bralter’s neighborhood. He had noticed what looked to be an abandoned barn that was on the verge of utter collapse. The crops had harvested for the season and the area was deserted enough for Cole’s needs.

The barn was entirely unstable. The aluminum roof was rusted in some places and flat out missing in others. Support beams were dry rotted. Old wooden crates sat off to one side, collecting dust. There was an area in the center that would serve for Cole’s needs. He kicked miscellaneous broken planks and debris out of the way as he brought in his supplies.

There wasn’t much that he would need. The bottled water was most important. He also brought some protein bars in case either of them got hungry. The lesson was a difficult one when Cole had learned it. He was wondering how he would do as a teacher.

Bralter arrived about a half hour after Cole did. He was wearing a blue business suit and pulled a duffle bag from his car as he emerged from it. He was nervous, but was trying to hide it.

“Mornin’.” Cole said with a nod.

“Hey. I brought the change of clothes you told me to. Told my wife I was going to gym on my lunch break.”

“Good man. Go ahead and get changed. The sooner we start, the better.” Cole took a seat on one of the crates still solid enough to support him. Bralter began to undress. Cole did not look at him. “You take some Motrin before you came out here?”

“Yeah. Does it really help?”

“Little bit. Don’t get me wrong, it hurts like hell. You get used to it eventually. For now, stuff like Motrin takes a bit of the edge off.”

“You’re sure about this? You’re sure I’m…” Bralter’s voice trailed off. He had a hard time even thinking about what he was saying. It was all still felt surreal.

“Yeah. I can smell it on you.”

“Why didn’t I change right after I got bit?” Bralter asked as he pulled on navy blue sweat pants.

“Takes a while for whatever it is in the saliva to effect the change.”

“It’s in saliva?” Bralter looked panicked. “My God! My wife! I kissed her!”

“Hold on, Mike. It’s OK. From what we know the saliva has to make direct contact with the blood stream and it’s got to be a significant amount. There’ve been times when the person bitten wasn’t even effected. You’re family’s safe. As long as you don’t bite the shit out of them.”

“God, I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be. It’s alright, man.”

“I just…” Bralter stood there wearing his navy blue sweats. He was barefoot on the dirt floor of the barn. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed heavily. His eyes stayed on the ground in front of him. He had barely looked at Cole since he arrived. “I’m worried about them.”

“Good.” Cole smiled. “Consider it motivation. This is going to be hard, but doing this will keep your family safe.”

“Yeah… OK.” Michael Bralter finally locked eyes with Cole. Cole knew he was ready. “What do I do?”

“Alright, here we go.” Cole kept his tone even and calm. This was going to be a rigorous and possibly a very long day for Michael. Barking orders at him would not help. “During a full moon people experience something on a subconscious level. We call it the Trigger. It makes some people act weird, just ask any cop. What we’re infected with reacts to the Trigger. It’s what makes us transform.”

“So, how do we control it?”

“We identify it. We focus on it. Once you do that, you will transform and it will hurt like you’ve never hurt before. But once you’re conscious of the Trigger, once you know what it feels like, you can control the change.”

“Even on a full moon?”

“People change uncontrollably under a full moon because they don’t know what’s happening. They panic. They black out. They don’t remember what happened because they don’t know how to cope with it.”

“I’ll be in control, even as a… God, I can’t even say it.” Bralter shook his head. He took a deep breath still trying to take it all in.

“Yeah, but you’ve got to own this thing. Close your eyes.” Cole started walking around him in a circle as he closed his eyes. “Think about being out at night. Think about being out under the stars. Imagine the night sky. It’s packed with stars.” Cole watched as Bralter stood there in the middle of the old barn. Bralter breathed deeply and controlled. It would not last. “See the full moon lighting the night sky.” Bralter twitched. “It’s light on your face; the night air on your skin; the feeling of being alive and feeling like you own the night.”

Bralter convulsed and cried out in pain. His legs gave out under him and he fell to the dirt floor. He opened his eyes and saw Cole standing in front of him with a bottle of water.

“Oh God. It felt like an electric shock.” Bralter took the bottle. His hands shook as he opened it.

“Drink it slow.” Cole knelt next to pained student. “Congratulations, you just took a big step forward.”

“Didn’t feel like it.” Bralter muttered as he sipped his water.

“It took me over an hour of meditation to get as far as you just did.”

“No shit?” Bralter raised an eyebrow, looking at the large man smiling at him.

“Well, I never was a very good student.” Cole grinned and ran his hand through his messy brown hair. “Now you’ve got to do it again.”

“Crap.” Bralter handed the bottled water back to his new mentor, and stood up. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

“I can promise you this: you get through the change and you’ll be feeling no pain.” Cole stood as well. And took a step back.

“Actually, I feel kind of good.”

“Endorphins. Body’s natural reaction to pain. Close your eyes.” Cole watched Bralter closely. “Where are you?”

“I’m in a field under a moonlit sky.”

“You feel it?”

“Yuh-yes.” Bralter said with a twitch.

“You feel it, then own it. Your life has changed. This is about accepting that fact.” Cole saw and heard Bralter’s breathing quicken. “This is the new you, Michael. Take control, power through this.” Bralter convulsed again, but this time did not collapse. “The pain will pass! You can do this! Do it for you, for your family!”

The screams of Michael Bralter echoed through the dilapidated old barn. The only witness was Cole Buchannon, who watched coldly as the man before him slowly, painfully became a monster.

This month's artist is: Alexa Riley. Thanks Lex!

Roads Not Taken: Chapter 2

2009-03-29T19:36:00.001-07:00

“You wait here. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“If it’s nothing, then why am I waiting in the car?”

“Just humor me. This’ll just take a minute.”

“A lot of things can happen in a minute.”

Cole knocked on the door and waited. He glanced around knowing full well the creatures he had faced were gone. He could not help it. He had not counted on ones such as them getting wind of this so soon. It would make things much more difficult.

A woman who looked to be around thirty answered the door. She was petite with short auburn hair. She looked up at Cole and he saw that she was confused. She had a smile on that Cole knew was fake. Cole knew his appearance was a bit intimidating and given the chance he would have gotten himself cleaned up and dressed nicer before approaching the family, but there was no time.

“Missus Bralter?” Cole asked as politely, smiling down at the woman.

“Yes. May I help you?” She kept a grip on the door and seemed ready to close it.

“My name is Cole Buchannon. I’m sorry to show up on your doorstep at dinnertime, but I need to speak with your husband.”

“May I ask what this is…”

“Who is it, honey?” Mister Bralter approached the door while adjusting a Florida State University sweatshirt he had just put on.

“He says he’s here to talk to you.” Missus Bralter replied turning to her husband. The man stood for a moment and looked at Cole, sizing him up. Cole smiled at him and tried his best not to look threatening.

“Cole Buchannon.” Cole extended his hand.

“Michael Bralter.” Bralter slowly accepted Cole’s hand. Both had a firm grip, Cole from years of hard work, Bralter from much practice in negotiations.

“I’m afraid I have to interrupt your family time, Mister Bralter. It’s fairly important. If I could speak with you in private…?”

Bralter’s wife looked back and forth between the two of them. She seemed ready to say something, when her husband looked to her.

“Honey, why don’t you go on ahead and eat. I’ll be in in a minute.”

“OK, but don’t be long. Katie wants to tell you about her day at Pre-school.”

“Sounds good. You two leave some garlic bread for me.” He kissed his wife as she walked to the dining room. Bralter stepped outside and closed the door behind him. He faced Cole on the porch. “Now then, Mister Buchannon, what can I do for you?”

“I’m here about your hunting accident last month.”

“Please tell me someone finally bagged whatever that was that bit me.” Bralter grinned a bit.

“Matter of fact, yeah.”

“Good. I had to get rabies shots because of that. What the hell was it anyways? We didn’t get a good look at it. Pete thought it was a wolf.”

“Pete’s got pretty good eyes. It was a type of wolf, yes.”

“So are you with animal control or something?” Bralter cocked an eyebrow.

“No, I represent a group that deals with these sorts of things. I’m afraid there’s much more to that bite.” Cole took a deep breath. He still could not smell any trace of those he had faced moments ago. He knew they would be back. “When you got bit there was a full moon that night…”

“Wait, hold it.” Bralter waved his hand to silence Cole. “This is a prank Pete and Jason set up. Real funny. I’m going to eat my supper now. Have a good one.” Bralter turned and started to open the door.

“The fettuccini alfredo with chicken that goes along with garlic bread you mentioned.” Cole said it calmly and Bralter stopped. He turned towards Cole and his face was starting to twist in anger.

“Listen asshole, I don’t appreciate you spying…”

“I can smell it. You could too before you walked into your house. Lots of things have been smelling more potent. Bet you’ve been seeing a bit better at night as well. You haven’t really thought about all that, have you?”

“Look man, the joke’s over.”

“Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me that nasty bite you got didn’t heal up pretty damned quick. In fact, don’t bother, because I know you’ll be lying.” Cole held his hand up and felt searing pain tear through it. His skin itched as course brown hair sprouted from it. His hand twisted. His fingernails began to lengthen. Cole tried to hide the pain, but it was written on his face.

Bralter took a step back and nearly stepped off his porch. His eyes were glued to Cole’s transforming hand. His mouth hung open and if he was trying to speak, he was doing a poor job of it. Finally he looked up at Cole’s face.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Cole said calmly. “You’re thinking this is a joke. You’re thinking it’s not possible. You’re thinking all the same things I thought when I discovered all of this.”

“You’re a…”

“Yeah.” Cole’s hand began to change back to normal. “You are too now, and there’s going to be a full moon tomorrow night which means if you’re left alone you are going to change into something horrible and attack people like you got attacked. To make matters worse, there are… things that would like to use people like you.”

“Oh my God.” Bralter leaned against his house. “This isn’t happening.”

“Yeah it is.” Cole sighed heavily. He took no pleasure in this. “Look, Michael, this isn’t your fault. This is something that was done to you. I’m here to help you.”

“You said there were others… that want to use me.”

“I’ll deal with them. But no matter what you don’t invite anyone into your home tonight. I don’t care how long you’ve known them. That’s the best way to protect your family.”

“My God. My Family! What’ll I do? What’ll they do? I can’t hurt them! I have a little girl!” Bralter’s face was pure desperation.

“Look man, I’m not going to lie to you. They’re in danger. The things that are coming for you have no qualms about using them or hurting them. Fortunately, I have no qualms about killing them deader than hell. I’ve got your back.”

“But what about me? If I’m going to turn into some horrible monster what’s going to protect my family from me?” Cole could see tears starting to well up in Michael Bralter’s eyes. Cole took no pleasure in seeing a person’s life changed so dramatically. He hated seeing Bralter’s desperation. However, what came next was something that Cole did enjoy a bit.

“I’m going to hang out here for the night to make sure you don’t get any visitors. Tomorrow, you are going to call into work and take a sick day.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I’m going to teach you how to be more than a monster.”

About this month's artist: You know him, you love him, it's the one and only Chris Johnson. Chris is a busy, busy man working on MERE MORTAL as well as a lot of other really great artwork, but he made the time to turn out some great art for the story. (That and he's been dropping serious hints since i started this project about wanting to play too.)

Roads Not Taken: Chapter 1

2009-02-15T17:44:00.000-08:00

“Will you love me forever?”

“What kinda of question is that?”

“An important one.”

“Forever is a long time.”

It was a quiet evening in a quiet suburb. Families were home from their commutes to the city and ready to sit down for dinner. The neighborhood was one that was carefully laid out around man-made miniature lakes. The houses were crammed close together and did not allow much room for yards. A small playground served as a centerpiece, and the mothers had sat on the strategically placed benches and watched their children run and play.

Cole Buchannon watched it all in silence and searched for a killer. There was a stretch of forest that the small community backed to. It was not enough for any wildlife larger than squirrels to claim as a home, but it was enough that Cole could move around without being detected. He had spent the day walking through the woods in silence. Cole cursed the fact that he had so little time to work, but knew it could not be helped.

He was a massive man, well over six feet tall with a thick build. His dark brown hair was clean, but wild. He kept it cut short, but did not bother to comb it. There was a couple of days growth on his face. It made him look older than he actually was. He was a young man but everything about him, from his appearance to his movements, made him seem older. It was the result of having to grow up too fast.
Once he had heard about what was going to happen he traveled across two states to try to stop it. Someone in that little community would become a danger to everyone around him soon. Their very soul was in jeopardy, and in all likelihood they did not even know it.

The mothers and children all retreated into their homes for the evening. Rain was coming. Cole could smell it in the air. He could smell many things. The house closest to him was having pot roast for dinner. The family two doors down from them had fertilized their garden two days ago. Someone’s dog really needed a bath. However the one scent Cole was hoping to catch on the light evening breeze eluded him.

He perked up as a car made it’s way into the community. It was a small blue four-door sedan. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, but Cole followed it all the same. He hurried through the woods. His heavy boots did not make a sound upon the blanket of pine needles that he ran across. The car pulled into a driveway well away from the woods Cole used to conceal himself. Still, the massive skulker could see the driver well enough, even in the fading light of the day.

The driver was a thin man in a gray suit. He was rather pale and had a receding hairline. There was a smile on his face, obviously from being happy to be home after a long day at work. He did not make it halfway from his car to his front door before Cole knew. That man would become a killer tomorrow night if no one stopped him.

Then another scent caught Cole’s attention. It was one he was all too familiar with. He was not the only one after the thin, pale man in the gray suit. Cole did not know who they were, but he knew why they were there. He also knew they had to be stopped.

Cole bolted from the woods leaping over privacy fences and sprinting across streets. The man in the suit had gotten into his house. That was not Cole’s concern. What was his concern was the scents that were becoming more powerful with every step. A few of the neighborhood dogs barked protectively as Cole sprinted past their yards. Cole managed to get to the street in front of his quarry’s home. He paused. Despite covering over fifty yards, including leaping over a few fences, his breathing was not labored. He looked around and saw nothing but well kept houses, manicured lawns and an assortment of cars in the numerous driveways, all of this illuminated by the glow of streetlights and a the few porch lights that were now on.

“Might as well come out where I can see you. There’s not enough sunlight left for you to be shy.” He looked to his left and saw the three of them. They stood together on the sidewalk in front of the house next door to the one Cole was standing in front of. Cole walked slowly to the sidewalk, blocking their way to house. They were dressed casually, and looked like they would fit right in with the neighborhood.

“You think you have business here?” One of them spoke, and Cole took him to be the leader by the way the other two flanked him. He was young and handsome with well-coifed blond hair.

“Yeah. I do.” Cole answered flatly.

“Hope it’s not with Mister Bralter in there, because that would make things complicated.” The blond man glanced over to house Cole was standing in front of.

“Well, I guess things are just going to have to be complicated.”

“You’re trying to poach our find.”

“Don’t go talking like this is a game!” Cole snapped and he felt his heart quicken. “Walk away. All of you. You can’t have him.”

“My friend, you are hardly in a position to make demands.” The blond said calmly. The two men with him started to walk forward. They were nowhere near as big as Cole, but he knew that made no difference. They were dangerous. Cole did not know them, but he knew their kind.

“Don’t do it.” Cole warned sternly.

“Why not?” The blond responded with a smirk. His companions were nearly to Cole and still walking calmly. Both were smiling. The smiles faded once they saw what was happening in front of them.

Cole’s face was twisting. He grimaced in pain as the sound of popping and wet friction echoed in his ears. His skin itched horribly as hair began to sprout. His muscles spasmed and contorted, yet Cole barely stirred. He just stood there and slowly became a monster.

“You’re looking for a victim, not a fight. I’ve got no problem doing this, right here, right now.” Cole’s voice was guttural and barely human at this point. “Question is: are you boys ready to be outted?” Cole’s twisted bestial face smiled. The change was continuing, but he was ready to fight them.

The two stopped advancing and looked to their leader. Their leader was not pleased.

“Filthy animal.”

“You should talk.”

“This isn’t over.” With those words the blond man seemed to dematerialize and a fine mist took his place. The two others followed suit and soon the mist they had become dissipated. Cole did not reverse his change. He stood there in the dim light and waited, paused between animal and man. It was not until he could not smell them anymore that he reversed the change.

He breathed deeply trying to dispel the memory of the pain he had just been in. He turned to the house he just protected. The Bralter residence had been spared being plunged violently into a world of horror and violence by the three monsters that had faced him.

It saddened Cole Buchannon that he was to be the monster that did the deed.

About this month's artist: Kat is a doodler from Texas. She likes comics, monsters, and an assortment of old stuff. Someday perhaps she'll get off her lazy duff and make one of them thar comic doohickeys. For now, though, it's all about the random sketches. She thinks that Hellboy is awesome and believes that you should think so too.

New Kid in Town: Chapter 6

2008-12-13T11:54:00.000-08:00

Sam Deveroux sat up quickly. He gasped for breath and looked around. The morning light bathed the porch he was sitting on. He had his sleeping bag draped over him. The memories of what had happened flooded back to him and he quickly clutched at himself. His shirt had been removed, and much to his surprise, he was fine. He remembered being stabbed, but there wasn’t a mark on him.

“What the hell?” He said astonished. He went to stand up, but felt his legs give under him. He felt a firm grip on his arm. It was Adrian.

“Easy, Sam.” Adrian helped Sam to his feet. The uneasiness quickly passed and Sam steadied himself. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired.” Sam admitted. “What the hell…”

“Later.” Adrian said flatly while looking past Sam. Sam turned to see his teammates approaching across the yard of the Krenshaw House. Randy Sullivan wearing his letterman jacket and a pair of beat up jeans was leading the pack. Sam looked down to see that all of his things were beside him on the porch. He reached into his pack back and pulled out the light jacket that he had packed. He looked at Adrian. Adrian was staring at him, his eyes pleading for Sam not to tell his friends what had happened last night.

“I’m going to want an explanation.”

“You’ll get one. I promise. Just…” Adrian’s voice trailed off.

“Not in front of them.”

“Yeah.”

“Alright.” Sam nodded and turned to his approaching teammates. He put on his best fake smile, and Adrian did likewise.

“Well, all right!” Randy bellowed with a smile and started clapping. The others joined the applause. It ceased soon and Randy climbed the stairs onto the porch. “Looks like you both made it.” Randy noticed that Sam’s shirt was missing. “Although I have to say, your lack of shirt is disturbing.”

“Ah, I ended up tearing the stupid thing. It got caught on something when we were crawling in through the window.” Sam answered calmly, and it seemed to satisfy Randy.

“How about you, Reese?” Randy asked with a smile. “You have as much fun as you thought you would?”

“Not really. Next time I’ll have to bring a more comfortable sleeping bag.”

“That dull, eh?” Randy inquired, only to be answered with a nonchalant shrug. Randy laughed. “Yeah. I was bored off my ass too when I stayed in there. Alright Reese, I still think you’re a weird-o, but you’re an okay weird-o.” Randy clapped his hands together. “Part of the tradition is buying you guys breakfast. Who’s hungry?”

“I could eat.” Adrian said and offered the best smile he could muster.

“Yeah.” Sam was growing more and more aware of the emptiness in his stomach. “I’m actually really hungry.”

There was a small restaurant just under a mile away from the Krenshaw House. I group spent the walk over there laughing and talking. Sam and Adrian were quiet for the most part. They responded well enough when spoken to. They did not laugh at any of the jokes that were being tossed around. Despite being the ‘guests of honor’ no one seemed to notice.

The restaurant was cozy and had a good selection for breakfast. The staff was expecting the group and they were greeted with smiles and quickly shown to enough tables to accommodate them. Sam and Adrian sat across from each other. They both ordered a hearty breakfast and both ate in near silence. Every so often they would look up at each other only to go back to their meals.

“Hey Adrian.” Randy called over from the table he was sitting at. “We cool? I know I gave you a hard time.”

“Yeah, it’s fine.” Adrian nodded as he answered.

“So, what’s up with that necklace? It’s pretty weird, man.” Randy’s gaze fell on the medallion that hung around Adrian’s neck.

“Family heirloom. It’s got a lot of sentimental value, and I like to keep it close.”

“Alright.” Randy nodded and finished his breakfast. The boys finished eating and settled their bill. They started for the door, when Randy noticed Sam and Adrian had not moved. “Yo Sam. You comin’? We’ve got practice in an hour.”

“I’ll meet you guys there.” Sam responded with a smile and a nod.

“Have fun with your new boyfriend!” One of the other players called. There was more laughter as the boys exited. This left Sam and Adrian staring at each other at the table.

“I don’t know who they were.” Adrian started.

“But they were after you.” Sam responded.

“No they were after this.” Adrian tapped the medallion with his finger.

“Why?” Sam demanded more than asked.

“Ok.” Adrian said after a pause. “I’m going to tell you the truth because you more than deserve it.” He held up the medallion. “This is a Heart’s Blood Medallion. There’s only five of them, so they’re valuable.”

“Those guys looked damn weird for dudes just looking to rob a couple of guys.”

“It’s also very powerful.”

“What do you mean ‘powerful’?”

“Magic.”

“Bullshit.”

“Sam, you saw those guys last night. You know they weren’t… right.”

“I really got stabbed, didn’t I?” Sam took a deep breath and remembered not being able too.

“Yeah.”

“How…” Before Sam could finish his question, Adrian tapped the medallion again with his finger. “I remember you saying something.”

“It was Latin. I know how to invoke the power in this thing. I was able to get rid of those guys. I was able to heal you.”

“If you could have gotten rid of them, then why didn’t you do it sooner, like before I got a knife stuck in me twice?”

“It’s complicated.”

“I don’t care.”

“Fine. The short of it is using the medallion is dangerous and could have killed me.” Adrian stared directly as Sam who fell silent. He struggled to take it all in. The lack of any other explanation made it easier. “You were dying. They would have killed me. Not much choice in the matter.”

“Alright.” Sam drummed his fingers on the table. One question was burning in his mind. He was sure he already knew the answer. “Someone killed your parents to try to get that thing.”

Adrian Reese paused and looked at Sam Deveroux for a moment.

“Yes.”

“They same guys as last night?”

“No.”

“So people… or whatever, are going to keep coming until they get it and probably kill you too.”

“Yeah, that’s about it. Sam, I understand if you want to stay as far away from me a possible after this.” Adrian said flatly as Sam stood up. Both of them were silent for a while as Sam pondered what had happened and all the information Adrian had given him. For a brief moment, Sam thought about walking out and never speaking to Adrian again. He knew that if everything he had been told was true then the young man in front of him was as good as dead as was anyone who was near him. The odds were horribly stacked against Adrian Reese. Sam hated that.

“You need anything: ask.” Sam said as he turned to the door to leave.

This month's artist: This month we get treated to the artwork of Dan Nokes. Dan is the creator of THE PARANORMALS from 21st Century Sandshark. Check him out!

New Kid in Town: Chapter 5

2008-12-01T04:00:00.000-08:00

Adrian grabbed Sam’s sleeve and clutched fiercely at it. The shapes of whatever was on the other side of the old distorted window were coming closer very quickly. More noise came from the room that the front door of the Krenshaw House led into. They both backed away from the window that had been their entrance.

“Oh God.” Adrian muttered. His face betrayed his fear.

“What is it? What do we do?” Sam looked quickly around. He felt as though the threat was all around him. Even though they were the only one’s in the room he felt suddenly claustrophobic. He struggled to maintain normal breathing.

“Run!” Adrian ordered as the window shattered. Arms were reaching in, grasping for handholds. The boys fled the room quickly.

They made it only a few steps into the next room when two men descended upon them. Sam could not make out their features in the darkness. He knew they were larger than he and Adrian. They said nothing, which Sam found unnerving. Sam lashed out, thrusting with his palm like he had done so many times on the football field. The strike landed solidly and his attacker was knocked backward. The man quickly regained his composure. Sam did not let up and threw a punch. He had not punched anyone since elementary school. Still the blow landed and Sam followed it with another one.

He could not tell how much effect his blows were having, but it was certainly stopping the man from grabbing him. Not wanting to tarry long with his opponent, he rushed forward and thrust out with both hands. The man stumbled backwards and fell over. Sam took the opportunity to see what was happening to Adrian.

The other man that had attacked him had a grip on Adrian from behind. Adrian was flailing and thrashing wildly, hoping to shake the man loose. Sam rushed to help his comrade, as more men entered the room. Sam could make out two more, but still could not spot anything distinguishing about them.

Adrian cried out in rage and swung his elbow behind him hard. There was a dull thud as the man reeled from catching the blow directly in his face. He gave out a low grunt, as Sam seized the man. Sam’s first instincts were to take the fight to the ground, due to his wrestling background. Sam decided against it and spun around, whipping Adrian’s attacker around with him. The man stumbled toward his accomplices; giving Sam and Adrian a chance to flee.

“We’ve got to get out of here!” Sam shouted as they ran past the stairs towards the kitchen. There was a back door on the other side of the kitchen. Sam was hoping their attackers had not gotten to it yet.

His hopes were dashed when they got the doorway to the kitchen. The door had been broken open. Neither young man had heard it in all the commotion. Three men were visible in the dim moonlight that shown through the windows. Their clothing was nothing remarkable: rough jackets over t-shirts and tank tops along with jeans on each of them. Sam tried to look at their faces. There was something wrong with their faces. Their eyes looked like they were shining in the darkness. Their skin was wrinkled, as if there were a slight excess of it, and is shone in the moonlight as if it were wet.

“The stairs.” Adrian said flatly. Taking the cue, Sam ran back towards the stairs, with Adrian right behind him. The men that had attacked them were at the foot of the stairs. They stood in the darkness waiting to grab the boys as they approached. Sam spotted them and quickly picked up speed, rushing towards them. They moved as if surprised, and that was all the opening Sam Deveroux needed.

Sam crashed into the man in front, shoving as hard as he could. This knocked the lead man into the others, giving the boys enough room to begin up the stairs. The three men from the kitchen were in close pursuit.

The stairway curved as it led to the second floor. Sam followed Adrian up as fast as they were both able. About halfway up, Adrian’s foot crashed through one of the aged steps, and he sunk to mid-calf.

“No! Dammit!” Adrian cursed as he struggled to free his leg. Sam caught up to Adrian and grabbed his companion’s arm, pulling in hopes of freeing him. Sam glanced back and saw their pursuers closing in. With a cry of pain, Adrian pulled his leg loose. Sam spun around and grabbed the banister for support. It shook in his grip as he kicked out at one of the men. The kick did not land very well, but the uneven footing of the steps caused both Sam and the one he kicked to fall. Ever the athlete, Sam quickly got his feet under him again and bolted with Adrian up the stairs.

“Your leg?” Sam asked as they looked around the upstairs hallway. The hallway was in the same condition as the downstairs. The old plaster was cracked and fallen in many places. The hardwood floor was warped, and creaked with their footfalls.

“Hurts. Make for the front of the house, maybe we can get out onto the porch roof.” Both boys sprinted down the hall hoping they were going in the right direction. There was no window at the end of the hall and both young men nearly collided into the wall in the darkness. They could not tell how far away their attackers were, but they sounded close. Their footfalls echoed through the ancient halls. Adrian found a door and with a turn of the knob and a hard shove, the door swung open.

The room had many windows and the moonlight lit it fairly well. They entered quickly and Sam slammed the door shut behind them. Sam pressed himself against the door to try to hold them off. The room was as barren as the others, with nothing to barricade the door with. Out the window was the porch roof.

“Quick, get a window open!” Sam called out, as he felt someone slam against the other side of the warped old door. Sam dug in and held firm, pressing his back against the door. Adrian grabbed one of the old window sashes and with one hard pull the entire sash came loose in his hands. They were both surprised by their luck.

“As soon as they open the door I’ll throw it at them!” Adrian said quickly, raising the sash up to throw. He hoped the glass would shatter, slowing them enough for him and Sam to escape.

“Right, let’s…” Sam was prepared to spring away from the door to give Adrian a clear shot. Before he could he felt a sudden sharp pain in his lower back. His voice caught in his throat. Something had stabbed him. His mind raced and reeled. He was unable to speak. He cried out and stumbled away from the door. He reached around himself, clutching at the pain. His back felt wet.

Adrian was yelling, but Sam could not hear it. He looked towards Adrian and saw him throw the window sash. He then looked towards the doorway and saw the glass shatter on the first one who had entered. Sam was starting to hear yelling. He felt unable to walk, and was trying very hard not to fall down. He looked to Adrian who was yelling something Sam could not make out. Adrian was waving frantically for Sam to come to the window.

Then Sam looked back towards the door. One of the strange looking men was rushing towards him. Sam wanted to run, but felt like he was in dream and could not. The man had something in his hand. Sam was beginning to feel numb, but the sudden fierce pain of the knife being buried into his stomach drove away the numbness for a moment. Then it returned. Sam sank to the floor.

He saw Adrian reaching for him. He saw the men closing in on Adrian. Adrian was backing away from them. He felt very cold and tired. Sam’s eyes slowly closed. He did not want them to, but was powerless to stop it. The last thing he saw before he fell into darkness was the men reaching for Adrian. The last thing he heard was Adrian’s voice.

“Ego precor vos!”

About the artist: This month's guest artist is the amazing Sophy Tuttle. Click her name on the link list to check out more of her amazing works!

New Kid in Town: Chapter 4

2008-11-15T15:16:00.000-08:00

It did not move. As much as Sam and Adrian watched it, it did not move. Sam did not know if they were looking at it for seconds or minutes. Time became meaningless in the struggle for his mind to cope with what he was witnessing. For a brief moment he thought it was a trick. Perhaps some prank his teammates had planned for the two of them. He knew that it could not exist, but somewhere in his gut he knew.

It was a ghost.

It was as though it was made of dim, glowing gas given a shape. The shape was that of a woman. It was hard to tell her age, but she seemed elderly. She wore a dress that hid most of her body and would have drug on the floor had the vision before them not faded into nothing the lower it got. It stood there and just watched the boys. The expression on its face was stern, like an angry parent who had just found her children misbehaving.

Sam sat up in his sleeping bag and looked at Adrian who knelt next to him in the dim light. Adrian studied the apparition before them, and if he was panicked at all by it, Sam could not tell. Sam suddenly felt like an interloper in a scene playing out between the two of them.

Adrian stood up, not taking his gaze from the spirit. The spirit’s gaze seemed to follow Adrian. Sam could not make out the spirit’s eyes, so it was difficult to be certain who it was looking at. Sam sat frozen, unsure of what to do next.

“Ms. Krenshaw?” Adrian asked calmly. Sam’s eyes grew wide as he stared at his companion. He could not believe Adrian was talking to it.

The spirit seemed to nod, but was otherwise motionless. Adrian took a step forward. At that point Sam started to scramble, grabbing for his shoes. Adrian waved to him in a silent order to be still. Sam froze again.

“We’re sorry to intrude, ma’am. We didn’t know anyone was here.”

“And why shouldn’t anyone be here?” The spirit said suddenly, with voice that sounded too human to be coming from a ghost.

“Holy God, it talks!” Sam exclaimed.

“I will thank you not to take the Lord’s name in vain, young man.” The spirit turned its gaze directly to Sam. The temperature in the room started to drop and the house seemed to come to life with the creaking and groaning of wood.

“He didn’t mean it, ma’am! Honest!” Adrian said to it and then quickly turned to Sam. “Quick, say you’re sorry.” Even in the dim light, Sam could see the deadly seriousness in Adrian’s face.

“I’m sorry, ma’am! I didn’t mean it!” Sam said quickly. The spirit’s gaze stayed on Sam, but the noises ceased. The temperature warmed back up to normal. Sam labored to control his breathing, as he slowly pulled his shoes on and got to his feet.

“Now,” The apparition spoke curtly as if losing patience with the two youths, “the two of you will tell me what your are doing in my home.” Sam could not make out if the phantom’s lips were actually moving, but he heard the voice clearly enough. “I’ve been having trouble with hooligans coming into my home and I won’t stand for it.”

“We’re not hooligans, ma’am.” Adrian answered quickly.

“No ma’am, not us.” Sam backed is companion.

“Its just folks haven’t heard from you in quite a while. We just came up here to make sure you were all right.” Adrian’s statement earned him a look from Sam. Adrian glanced back at him. They both knew the lie was a feeble one at best. However, the temperature in the room was remaining constant and no noises emanated from the house.

“Hmph!” The phantom grunted indignantly. “And who are you two to come here out of the goodness of your hearts to visit upon an old woman?”

“My name is Adrian Reese, and this is my friend, Sam Deveroux.”

“Deveroux?” The ghost moved now heading straight for Sam. Before either young man could react it was inches away from him. Sam froze again, his voice caught in his throat. Adrian started to move, but stopped when the spirit did. Sam’s eyes were fixed upon the spirit, staring into the whirling void where its eyes should have been. “Are you kin to Davis Deveroux, the tailor?”

“Um.” Sam stammered as his mind rocketed for a proper answer. Davis Deveroux had been Sam’s great great grandfather. Sam did not know how to tell the spirit that.

“Yes, yes.” The ghost said, moving away from him. “I can see it. You favor him a bit. I did not know he had children. A good Christian man, as I recall. Yes. Kind of him to send you to check up on an old lady like myself.”

“Its… my pleasure, ma’am.” Sam responded. He could see Adrian smiling and nodding his approval. Sam determined that he would have a long talk about this with Adrian once it was over. He knew his friends would not begin to believe what was happening to him. He barely believed it himself.

“You however, young Master Reese,” The spirit turned to Adrian quickly and spoke very sternly. Sam felt the temperature begin to drop again. No noises accompanied the chill this time. “You, young man, have brought something into my home that you should not have.”

“No ma’am!” Adrian responded quickly.

“Adrian!” Sam said fighting back panic.

“Do not presume to lie to me in my own home, boy!” The voice snapped like a horsewhip and the temperature plummeted. The sound of wood creaking was faint, but growing louder. “I know what it is you have! They have told me!”

“Who?” Adrian demanded more than asked. “Who told you?”

“They want it back, Master Reese! They are very angry, and they want it back!”

“Who are they?” Adrian’s breath was visible in the air as he shouted his query.

“They curse you! They curse you as they did your father!”

“My father?” The words stabbed through Adrian and Sam could see it on his face. “Who are they?” He demanded again. Sam’s fear threatened to overwhelm him. He was ready to grab Adrian and flee the Krenshaw House.

“They have come for you, Adrian James Reese!” A chill cut through both the youths and not from the dropping temperature. For the first time Sam saw fear upon Adrian’s face. “They are here.”

With those final words the spirit faded slowly from sight. The noisy complaints from the old house ceased as well. The temperature began to rise slowly back towards normal. Sam’s breathing was still labored. Despite everything returning to normal his fright was not diminishing.

“Adrian, what was…” Sam began, but was quickly cut off.

“Get your things. We’re getting the hell out of here.” Adrian quickly gathered his belongings, and Sam snapped to as well. He did not need nor want an explanation until they were far away from the house. The boys hastily rolled up their sleeping bags and shoved they’re belonging back into their bags. Once packed, they hurried to the window they entered through. Adrian got there first and stopped in his tracks.

The glass in the window was warped greatly with age. The lights from town shown through in a distorted manner. Even in the darkness and through the twisted glass, Sam saw something moving. The sight of it was what brought Adrian to a halt. The young man who had been talking calmly to a ghost was utterly petrified with fear.

“Sam, I’m so sorry.” Adrian said softly as they heard from the other side of the house the front door being smashed in.

About the artist: This month's guest artist is the very talented Amy Lou Kirner.

New Kid in Town: Chapter 3

2008-11-01T03:58:00.000-07:00

The young men’s muscles were too much for the warping and rust that resisted them and the bookcase swung open. Adrian and Sam looked inside, but only when Adrian held out his electric lantern could they make out what they revealed. It was a room. Like the rest of the house it had been relieved of its contents decades ago. The plaster on the wall was cracked, but for the most part intact. The kudzu from outside had yet to make it’s way into the room, and with no sunlight to coax it, would likely stay that way.

“Check that out.” Adrian said with a grin on his face. “Anyone tell you about this?”

“Nope.” Sam answered. He had talked to quite a few of his teammates that had gone through the team’s initiation of spending the night in the Krenshaw House. None of them had mentioned anything about a secret room. “I don’t think they knew this was here.”

“Sure looked that way. From the dust I don’t think anyone’s touched this bookcase in years.”

“I’d heard about some older houses having hidden rooms for keeping valuables in. Never seen one though.” Sam smiled at Adrian. “This is turning out much cooler than I thought it would be.” Sam walked forward into the room they had revealed. The opening was large enough that he did not have to duck to enter. The room itself was approximately eight feet wide and about ten deep. Adrian’s lantern easily lit the entire space.

Sam stopped dead in his tracks the moment he entered the room. A gasp escaped him as he froze. It felt as if the temperature in the room was at least forty degrees colder than the rest of the house. The hairs on his arms stood on end as goose bumps rose from his flesh. He quickly backed out of the room, nearly running into Adrian.

“AH! God!” Sam exclaimed as he shook off the sudden chill. Once out of the room the temperature felt normal again.

“What is it? What happened?” Adrian asked urgently.

“It’s freezing in there!” Sam answered quickly. “What the hell was that?”

Adrian set his gaze upon the room. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, but something had definitely happened when Sam entered. He turned back to Sam.

“Hang on a second. I’m going to check this out.” Adrian told him and started towards the room. Sam did not stop him, being still a bit shaken by the surprise of the experience. Adrian walked into the room, and immediately felt the same cold Sam had felt. He moved to the center of the room as Sam watched him.

Holding the lantern at arms length, he slowly turned around examining each wall. He let out a slow deliberate breath and it became visible in the cold. He said nothing, but Sam could tell Adrian was processing all of it. More surprising than the experience of the cold was how calmly Adrian was taking all of this in. It seemed to Sam that this was not Adrian’s first time in dealings such as this.

Adrian exited the room and looked to Sam. His face betrayed a slight smile.

“Well, the house is haunted.”

“What?” Sam exclaimed.

“Easy. I was generalizing.” Adrian held up his hand and motioned for Sam to calm himself. “It’s likely someone died here years ago. Sometimes when that happen houses develop hot or cold spots.”

“Are you kidding me?” Sam said in disbelief.

“You felt it yourself. I know it seems weird…”

“It is weird.” Sam interrupted.

“OK, yeah. It is weird. It’s not that big a deal though.” Adrian’s hand absent-mindedly went to his neck and pulled the necklace into view. He rubbed the medallion hanging from it between his thumb and forefinger. “If it’ll make you feel better we can close the room back off.”

“Yeah. Let’s do it.” With some effort they swung the bookcase back into its original position. Sam glanced over to Adrian, and looked at the medallion hanging from his neck. “So, you gonna tell me about that?”

“Hm?” Adrian looked at his companion.

“That.” Sam repeated pointing at the medallion. “I know Randy was giving you grief over it, and at pretty odd for a guy to be wearing something like that.”

“It was my dad’s.” Adrian answered has he held the medallion up to look at it. “Him and mom passed away last year. That’s why I moved down here. I’m staying with my aunt and uncle.”

“Ah, geez man. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” Sam felt bad for prying so deeply into Adrian’s life.

“Its alright.” Adrian replied, letting Sam of the hook. “You didn’t know.”

“That thing must have meant a lot to him.”

“It means a lot to a lot of people.”

“It valuable?”

“Kinda. Yeah.”

“Got to tell you, man. Wearing odd necklaces and knowing stuff about haunted houses and things like that. It’s a pretty easy way to get yourself labeled a weirdo.” Sam said with a slight smirk.

“Oh yeah? Do you think I’m a weirdo?”

“Oh hell yes.” They both burst into laughter. Adrian delivered a light punch to Sam’s arm. The two returned to the room with window they entered through. They decided that it would be the spot for them set up their sleeping bags. There was a bit of small talk between them as they both settled in for the night. Adrian seemed restless.

“You OK?” Sam asked.

“I don’t sleep very well.” Adrian replied.

“Insomnia?”

“Something like that. If you hear me wake up in the middle of the night don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t hear you over the snoring.”

“You snore?”

“It’s easily the scariest thing in the house.” Sam said with a laugh as Adrian chuckled and turned out the electric lantern. The sleeping was comfortable enough and after a few minutes Sam drifted off to sleep. While the cold spot in the hidden room was disturbing, it seemed to only be in that one room. Sam was still curious about how Adrian knew about things of the sort, but those questions could wait.

Sam did not know what time it was when he felt a hand upon him. He woke with a start and could make out Adrian kneeling next to him in the dim light. The light was not coming from the windows or from any of the lights that the youths had brought with him. Adrian said nothing and Sam’s own voice caught in his throat at the sight to the apparition before them.

About this month's artist: Bridget once snorted orange-flavored Pixie Stix dust when she was younger, simply because someone dared her to. Not only would she be sneezing orange for a week after the incident, but many would blame the act for her current mental state. All evidence suggests otherwise, proving she was never the brightest sandwich in the galaxy even before the lapse in judgment.

New Kid in Town: Chapter 2

2008-10-15T03:06:00.001-07:00

Sam Deveroux watched the sun setting as he stood on the sidewalk in front of the Krenshaw house. He was a bit nervous, but his expression did not betray it. The sky had a soft red glow as the clouds accented the natural beauty. It was a perfect evening for spending the night in a supposedly haunted house. The Krenshaw house certainly looked the part. No one had lived there since the early nineteen hundreds and despite a few failed efforts to renovate and restore the property it seemed to be on the verge of collapse. It was a two-story building, with a large porch. The roof over half of the porch had fallen in decades ago. The wood board siding was weathered but there were a few spots where the old while paint that had not yet flaked off still clung on, waiting for the ever impeding ivy and kudzu to overtake it.

Sam stood with the others that had gathered there waiting to see if he and the new kid would actually show up. He had brought his sleeping bag, a flashlight, two bottles of water, some snacks and his Ipod for entertainment. It was almost eight thirty in the evening and that was when he and Adrian were supposed to go in. His teammates that had showed up were standing around talking amongst themselves. One of the guys had gotten a case of cheap beer and a few of them were imbibing. Sam had declined the offer, and to his surprise no one teased him about it.

“I don’t think he’s going to show up.” Randy Sullivan remarked sounding almost disappointed about it. He was almost impressed that Adrian Reese had stood up to him and thought for sure that the freshman would be up to his challenge.

“And as soon as you say something…” Lindsey Brewster laughed at the timing because no sooner had Randy made the remark she spotted Adrian Reese rounding the corner towards them. He had a hefty backpack with him. He strode confidently and was looking at the house he was to be spending the night in as he approached the group. There were a few whistles and catcalls as he walked up to Randy.

“You showed.” Randy said with a smile.

“Yeah. Been looking forward to it.” Adrian replied, seeming much more relaxed than the other students had seen him at school. The shy introvert Randy had taken Adrian for had been replaced by a confident young man. “Not every day a guy gets to check out a haunted house.”

“You have a weird idea of a good time, Reese.” Randy smirked.

“It’s your party, I just accepted the invitation.” One of the players offered Adrian a beer. “No thanks.” Adrian waved away the offer with a smile and a nod. “So, you said there would be two of us. Who else is going?”

“Scared to go in a alone?’

“Just want to get the show on the road.”

“Hmph.” Randy grunted and nodded towards Sam who approached them.

“Adrian Reese.” Adrian introduced himself and offered his hand.

“Um… Sam Deveroux.” Sam was a little taken aback by the formality in which Adrian introduced himself, but accepted Adrian’s extended hand. He was a little surprised by the firmness of Adrian’s grip. It was strong but not to the point that it seemed the pale young man was attempting to prove anything.

“Good to meet you, Sam.” Adrian turned his attention back to Randy. “So how do we get in? I’m doubting the doors are unlocked.”

“You always all business?” Randy asked.

“Like I said, I’m pretty excited by this.”

“You into this sort of stuff? Haunted houses, and crap like that?”

“Me? Nah. Just something different is all.”

“Fair enough. There’s an unlocked window on the north side. Second one from the corner.”

“Alright, see you guys later. Ready, Sam?”

“Um… sure. Let’s do it.” Sam turned to follow Adrian towards the house. He had not expected Adrian to be so gung ho about their staying the night in the house. While Sam was not afraid of what was waiting for them, he was not as eager to proceed as Adrian was.

Adrian paused for a moment before starting up the walkway towards the house. It was very slight but Sam caught it. Adrian was looking briefly at something, or someone. Following his glance, Sam saw a group of the cheerleaders chatting and watching as he and Adrian began their challenge. He smiled. ‘The new kid isn’t much different at all’, he thought to himself.

The two young men made their way across the overgrown yard. Both took large stomping steps to tramp down the foliage in front of them. The sun had set and the last of it’s light guided them.

“So, how much trouble will we be in if we get caught in this place?” Adrian asked without turned to him new companion.

“None actually. A lot of the cops here grew up here. I’m sure a few spent a night in here themselves. As long as we don’t do any property damage they don’t do a thing.”

“Property damage?” Adrian stopped and turned to Sam. “How the hell could they tell?” Both of them laughed and continued up to the house. It took little effort to locate the window Randy had told them about. They tossed their packs inside and Sam pulled himself through with Adrian close behind. Sam lit his flashlight.

It was as they both expected. The warped hardwood floor creaked with their every step. The plaster on the walls had fallen down in spots. In some places the ivy from the outside had made it’s way into the house itself. The building was a rotting husk of it’s former self. The air itself was musty, the scents of mildew and dust mixed to make both Adrian and Sam wince at the notion of having to smell it all night.

“So, which of the girls were you checking out?” Sam asked as he looked around the room they were in. He imagined it used to be the living room.

“What?” Adrian asked as he pulled an electric lantern from his pack. With the flick of a switch the room was lit. “There we go.”

“Nice, but answer the question. I saw you checking out a few of the girls.” Sam turned his flashlight off wanting to conserve the batteries.

“The one with the straight, black hair.” Adrian said with a slight smile. He thought he had been subtle about his glance.

“Sasha Cameron.”

“She got a boyfriend?”

“Yep.”

“Well. That just sucks. It’s not you, is it? Because that would just be awkward.”

“HA! No. I don’t know the guy. Can’t fault your taste though. She is hot.” Sam glanced into the adjoining room. “You want to check the rest of the place out?”

“Oh yeah, but I think we better stay downstairs. I don’t like the idea of falling through the floor.” Sam and Adrian made there way thought the downstairs of the house. There every step brought a creak, groan or crack from the aged floor. They walked carefully feeling out the floor for soft spots, of which there were few. Their exploration brought them to what seemed to have been the study. All the furniture had been removed decades ago, only a large bookshelf remained.

“That’s weird.” Adrian said looking at the dust-covered shelves.

“What’s up?” Sam asked walking over to where his companion stood.

“We’ve gone through the whole downstairs and it seems like there’s space for another room.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, and this bookcase still being here with all the other furniture gone seems odd too.” Adrian knelt on the floor next to the bookcase and ran his fingers along the floor in front of it. He looked up quickly at it. “No way.”

“What is it?”

“Give me a hand.” Adrian said setting his lantern off to the side and grasping the bookcase. Sam joined them and they both pulled. Sam was not sure what Adrian was trying to do, but it quickly became obvious when long hidden hinges creaked and complained, coming to life after years of being dormant. The bookcase slowly began to swing open.

About this month's artist: Kat is a doodler from Texas. She likes comics, monsters, and an assortment of old stuff. Someday perhaps she'll get off her lazy duff and make one of them thar comic doohickeys. For now, though, it's all about the random sketches. She thinks that Hellboy is awesome and believes that you should think so too.

New Kid in Town: Chapter 1

2008-10-02T04:51:00.001-07:00

This month's art is by the lovely and talented Linda Jean. Thanks Linda!

Adrian Reese stood silently in front of his new classmates. Half of the room seemed to be sizing him up. The other half did not seem to care. Adrian was not pleased about having to transfer to a new school, but was determined to make the best of it. Titusboro, Louisiana seemed like as good a place as any to stay out of trouble.

He tried to smile at the class as the teacher introduced him. It was unconvincing to the class and the teacher all of whom noticed the young man’s pallor. Adrian had not slept well in over a year and it showed on his face. Despite turning fifteen only a few weeks prior, he looked weary, and it was obvious to all who looked at him. He said nothing to the class, and only nodded to the teacher after the awkward introduction and took an available seat towards the back of the room.

By lunchtime that day the rumors were already circulating about him. Some thought he was a drug user. Most just thought he was odd. He had not introduced himself of anyone, and had barely spoken the entire morning. It was not as though he seemed to be trying to look out of place. The freshman dressed fine in a clean, untucked T-shirt and a pair of well-worn jeans. His dirty blond hair was cut short and conservative. If anything, it seemed as though he just wanted to fade into the background and be left alone.

For that reason alone, Randy Sullivan was utterly fascinated.

“So, what’s the story on the new kid. He looks like death warmed over.” Randy looked over at Adrian who was sitting a few tables away in the school cafeteria. Randy was the starting running back of the school’s football team. He was a handsome youth, with an easy smile. He did not go out of his way to pick on people, but he felt to need to poke and prod to try to get a feel for them.

“Probably drugs. He doesn’t dress like those goth kids, but he’s definitely pale enough.” Jacob Barnes was the team’s quarterback. He was a nice enough fellow, but if something did not have to do with football then he was not interested. Jacob took a bite of his sandwich and paid no attention to Adrian who sat quietly and ate.

“Ah well. We’ve got more important things going on.” Randy smiled and looked over to Sam Deveroux. “You ready for this weekend, champ?”

“You’re kidding, right?” Sam looked up from his lunch. He was a freshman and the new back-up running back for the team. Sam was a strong young man, and enjoyed playing the game. Sitting with the team and an assortment or cheerleader during lunch was an added bonus. Still, the initiation he was told about was not something he looked forward to. “You’re really gonna make me stay the night in the Krenshaw House?”

“You and one other guy. Not sure who yet.” Randy smiled. Every year freshmen that joined the team spent the night in the Krenshaw House. It had been vacant for decades and reportedly haunted. Randy himself had stayed the night there without incident. Others had said they hear or saw strange things. Every year at least one person ran out of the house screaming.

It was Sam’s turn, but all the other freshman player had already spent their evening there. Only one of them, Clayton McMurt, had said he heard anything odd. Clayton was well known as being very superstitious, so his claims fell of deaf ears.

“You’re not nervous, are you Sam?” Lindsay Brewster asked. She was one of the co-captains of the cheerleader squad and happened to be sitting directly across from Sam. She smiled as she posed the question, knowing that such a query from a cute girl always stirred the manly bravado that she found amusing and charming all at once.

“Maybe a little.” Sam spoke honestly. “But it’s nothing I can’t handle.” He smiled. Although he was nervous, he was ready to face the challenge. It was his doorway to full acceptance by his peers, and the lure of a fast track to popularity was a strong one.

After the lunch period ended, Adrian was headed for gym class. Although he had yet to purchase a standard physical education uniform that school required, he was still prepared to participate. He headed in the locker room to change into the shorts and spare t-shirt he had brought with him. The locker room was just like that of his previous school. Rows of lockers gave the boys just enough room to squeeze by each other and get changed. The smell of stale sweat hung in the air.

Adrian found a vacant locker in one of the rows and claimed it as his own. The locker was fairly close to that of Randy Sullivan who also had gym that period. Sullivan was changing as well, but discretely cast an eye at Adrian expecting him to appear even sicklier as he changed clothes.

To Randy’s surprise, young Adrian appeared to be in good shape. He lacked the musculature of Randy or his teammates, but he was still well proportioned and looked as though he was an active fellow. Adrian’s paleness extended to rest of his body and not just his face. Randy wondered briefly if Adrian’s pallor was perhaps a medical condition. This train of thought was quickly derailed the moment Randy spotted what hung around the new boy’s neck.

It was a necklace. The chain itself looked like silver but was otherwise unremarkable. What was remarkable was the medallion that hung from the chain. It was also silver and was round. It looked to be about the size of a fifty-cent piece. There were small carvings in it was Randy did not pay much mind to. What he did notice was the heart-shaped, red gem in the center of it. It looked like a ruby, but Randy could not be certain.

“Hold the phone!” Randy announced as he strode over to where Adrian was changing. Adrian turned to Randy, but remained silent. “Are you kidding me? Dude! What kind of guy wears a fruity looking necklace like this to…” He was reaching out to grasp the necklace, as the rest of the boys in the locker room looked on. Some were on the verge of laughing. All were smiling. The smiles turned to looks of shock at Adrian’s reaction.

“Don’t touch it.” Adrian said coldly as he grasped the football player’s extended wrist. His voice was not raised, but did betray a New England accent. Randy was surprised not only by the reaction, but by the strength of Adrian’s grip. Their eyes were locked. No one spoke. The others present watched them both expecting either to explode violently on the other at any instant.

Randy took a step back and jerked his arm free. Despite the strength of Adrian’s grip it was no match for Randy’s. Their eyes stayed on each other’s. Neither was willing to back down.

“FIGHT!” Someone yelled.

“OH, SHUT UP!” Randy shouted at whomever had yelled. Then he turned back to Adrian. “Seems like you think you pretty tough.” Adrian did not reply. “Good. We need a tough guy.” Randy glanced around at those watching and smiled. “Looks like Sam will be having company this weekend after all.”

Prologue

2008-09-11T10:17:00.000-07:00

The mine had not been worked in nearly a century. If asked why, the locals would answer that the vein of silver that had come from it had been completely mined out. There had been a town only a mile away, but it was deserted soon after the mine stopped producing. The nearest city was over forty miles away across a rocky and unforgiving desert. The mineshaft itself was nothing extraordinary to look at. Merely a hole in the side of a butte with a few ancient boards that had enough tenacity in their dry rotted mass not to blow away in the wind. It appeared to be nothing but a remnant of a bygone era of frontiersmen and exploration; but if you asked Simon Reese or Carson Rodgers, it was a hole straight into hell.

They emerged stumbling from the mineshaft, their flashlights illuminating their escape. Both gasped. Their lungs were desperate for the cool, dry air of the desert morning. They had not spoken in what seemed to men to have been hours. Sweat poured off of them as they sprinted with whatever energy they had left in them towards the jeep Rodgers had rented.

They were filthy, with clothes hugging their bodies, drenched in sweat. The front of Reese’s clothes was covered in dirt from when he had tripped during their egress. The knee of his left pants leg was blood soaked from the fall. The injury was not serious but it stung him with every step, yet did not slow him the least. He clutched their prize fiercely in his hand.

“Dammit! The sun isn’t up yet!” Rodgers cursed as they neared the jeep.

“Can’t be helped.” Reese replied as Rodgers got behind the wheel and started the vehicle. Reese jumped into the passenger seat. Looking out at the horizon he saw the glow of the approaching sunrise. “Drive! Head east!”

“Right!” Rodgers already had the jeep moving and aimed it at the impending sunrise. The tires flung rocks and dirt, but caught and sent the men on their way. The town of Billings was to the North, but that did not matter for the moment. “Are they still behind us?” Rodgers asked between labored breaths.

Simon Reese had told himself that he would not look back. He wanted to keep focused on moving forward, heading towards anywhere that would take him home to his wife and son. The last thing he wanted was to look back at where the two men had spent the previous night. He had to know. They had to know. Clutching the seat tight, he pivoted and looked back to the mine. It was quickly shrinking from sight. What had followed them out was not.

“Oh God.” Reese uttered.

“Are they there?” Rodgers asked, too focused on the terrain in front of him to check the rearview mirror. The glow of the pre-dawn cast long shadows over the land, and the headlights did not give Rodger much warning of what was coming at the speed he was driving.

“Just keep going!” Reese called out. The flashlight slipped from his fingers and fell behind the seat of the jeep. Reese continued to clutch their prize in his fist, as his free hand took up his revolver from the holster strapped to his leg. The cool air blew his short blond hair wildly, but it didn’t obscure his vision. He leveled the weapon. His fatigue made it heavy in his grip. Rodger’s glanced at him.

“That’s not going to stop them!”

“It’s better than nothing!” Reese cried out as he squeezed the trigger. The shots echoed into the night, as the jeep cut an urgent path across the land heading for the blessed light of day.