This is a brand new piece I wrote over the night – a bit of Flash Fiction for Chuck Wendig’s weekly challenge. Never heard of him? You’re in for quite a treat. Click that link on his name right back there, and familiarize yourself with one of the greatest writers of the day. Chuck’s TerribleMinds blog is updated – sometimes twice – daily, filled with wonderful stories and interesting articles about the day-to-day life of a full-time writer. His work is incredible, both fiction and non-fiction… and it would do you well to check it out. Plus, he says “fuck” a lot. So, you know. There’s that.
You can find all of his work on his website (click the link, dammit!)
Anyway, on with the story. I may have gone a little over the 1,000 word limit. (Oops.) Here’s to you, Mr. Wendig. Cheers. Thanks for the inspiration! Can we be friends, please?
Random-Generated Prompt (courtesy of Archetype Writing):
The story starts when your protagonist is forced into a car at gunpoint.
Another character is an alchemist who is developing a deadly new poison.
We’re watching A Good Day to Die Hard right now… Wow. Just…. just wow. It’s moments like these that make me want to start a bad-movie review site. Go ahead and stop reading this now if you don’t want to see any spoilers (or read one of my lengthy bitch-rants). Beware: NSFW. Don’t let the kids read this one.
Still with me? All the children under 17 tucked safely in their beds? Cool beans.
“And so I suffer on, like the rest… To live, to love, to dream of dreaming; and some day to die, and dream once more — of living.”
— from The Man Who Dreamed of Living
Teaser of the first chapter from my upcoming mystery novella, The Mysterious Mr. Crowley. Enjoy!
It’s a curious and frightening affair, to wake up not knowing yourself; to open your eyes and look around to see four unfamiliar walls… You blink, to make sure you’re not dreaming. Then, you close your eyes again – this time, you keep them closed.
You count to three and take a deep breath, hoping that when you open your eyes, you’ll be in your room, laying in your bed, right where you were when you fell asleep… Right there at home.
You open your eyes.
Then, reality comes crashing down upon you with all of the horrifying and dismal sobering-power of a pit viper sitting on your chest.
You spring up – your heart skips a beat, you scramble out of the bed, unsure of which way to run… You stumble over to the dresser, and when meeting oneself in the mirror, you know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that everything is wrong. That your mind and body are not in accord; that you do not belong. In that place. In those clothes. In that skin…
Curious and frightening, indeed.
The devils and the demons
they both dance with you and me;
Leagues beneath the sea,
they sink with you and me
and We look to one another,
devils, demons, you and me,
dancing ‘neath the sea,
sinking fast and free;
Thirty thousand shields and swords
all glistening in Diana’s sweet light
await the order to destroy
the very breath of life
and just before the Great Apollo
lifts the veil of night
we rise up and deliver
a fatal strike to end the tyranny
we cut like knives on naked skin
We cut them
Silent rage, disengaged
Fire on an empty page
ignorance is bliss until
the fire spreads and singes
all the hairs off of your face
Oh, but of course
That’s the way the burning goes
The taste of smoke
Is only harsh until you choke
Then welcome suffocation
Awful nice of you to show
And everything around you starts to go
Darkness is swelling, looming,
casting shadows over me,
as a stone on the shore
is overcome by open sea,
I sit weathering storms;
like the stone – patiently
I am waiting, to brook the
deadly crashing waves,
endure the abrading
of endless tides;
withered and worn,
I still abide.
I am not crazy… I am not crazy… I…
The following is an excerpt from an ongoing project, my magnum opus tentatively titled, The Canon of John. This passage comes from book II, entitled Vitam Mysteram, which is latin for “the mystery of life”.
I hope you find Truth and Wisdom in these words, to guide you on the path to your own enlightenment.
On Death and Immortality
Am I no longer human, that I have seen and now know what it is to be alive and what it is to be dead?
Perhaps immortality is something to be attained, not through spirituality or transubstantiation, or from acts of righteousness, or from bowing in servitude and grokking at the nature of imagined gods and goddesses, but instead from the very knowledge and comprehension of the thing which in and of itself does permeate and echo through the halls of eternity: mortality.