February 20

Something watches me…

Image by Anja from Pixabay

Something stares at me from the end of the lawn every morning.

At first I thought it was a shadow, the way the sun cast its light against a tangle of trees and shrubs. At first, I thought it was nothing, just my imagination on a cold morning. At first I thought it was nothing…

Yet each day it watches, me just on the edge of civilization, at the edge where the bramble by the stream rises up to meet the manicured lawn of my apartment complex. It stands there, just inside the shadows, possibly human, possibly not. I think it’s just my imagination…

Every day it watches me.

Author L Becker: This is how the end of the world shall be written….

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January 5

Angel’s Gate Chapter 2 Teaser

Photo Credit: Image by Tumisu from Pixabay

Storytime again! This time we’re getting a tidbit from Chapter 2 of Angel’s Gate. Angel’s Gate is the first book in my ShadowGate Series. Available now for purchase. Today I wanted to give you a little preview, the beginning of Chapter 2. We are introduced to our MC, AG’s, childhood home. Read on for a teaser of Angel’s Gate or click the video above to have me read to you!

Chapter 2 – Angel’s Gate:

It still looked the same.

With the gray of dawn spreading through the streets, it looked to AG as if no time had passed since she had left Shelter Cove. As if the last decade had simply been erased. The mountains cupped it on three sides, their shoulders heavy with the deep green of pine and hemlock. The slinking mists of early dawn rolled in off the lake, disguising the signs of progress, the scars left by time. It was easy not to notice the scattering of new houses set back in the trees or the new marina, swallowed by the morning fog as it stretched out into the still, dark waters. There were other signs time hadn’t stood still, yet not enough to remove the strange and sinking sensation that she had never really escaped.

She was not the same kid who had left, in that decade she had found her freedom, her strength and one quick trip back couldn’t strip all of it away. Could it? She wasn’t a child anymore and this wasn’t her world. Still the feeling of being sucked back in time remained with her, darkening her heart and thoughts.

The SUV wove its way through the familiar roads and she found herself remembering her childhood at every turn. There was the corner she had crashed her new ten speed on Christmas twenty years before. There was the high school where she had kissed her first boy and done a lot more than that a night or two in senior year. Those were memories she looked back fondly on. She had loved Luke Olson as only a teenage girl could and he had been a sweet boy.

Somewhere she had heard he was married, the father of two. Still a sweet boy.

There was the Midtown Market, where she had worked her first job the summer she turned sixteen…

Shelter Cove was filled with memories, both good and bad, but it would never again be her home. She could not see herself growing old in that place. She couldn’t see herself ever giving up her career and life in San Francisco to live in that postage stamp town. Couldn’t imagine herself marrying and raising a passel of kids, with two cars in the drive and a dog in the yard. She couldn’t imagine that as her life, even though a small voice whispered it would have been easy to if she tried. She didn’t want to try. That domestic vision was what her mother had wanted and had never achieved. She wasn’t going to want the same thing and spend her life regretting when it never happened. She was smarter than that. She would make the life she wanted and her life was in California, three thousand miles away.

When they turned onto the street leading to her childhood home the pain inside of AG seemed to shift, expand. Unconsciously she raised a hand to press it against her heart. Home…

The house still stood as it always had, two stories, rich brown siding with a wide porch and peaked ceiling. Two large windows looked out onto the carefully kept lawn, one from the living room, the other from the breakfast nook. In the dim morning light the house looked tired, sad. Or that was how AG felt inside as she looked at it, knowing it was empty.

Until next time,

L

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April 8

The Story of Creation: The ShadowGate

Image by beate bachmann from Pixabay

In the beginning before the Universe, before Light, before Dark, before Life and before Death was the Source. In the great void of infinity the Source became restless and from itself, from all that was Darkness it created Ahiloban, goddess, darkness, divine. To serve her and to serve the Source the Elohim were created, twelve to govern the houses of the Universe yet unborn, to serve and to watch. For time beyond time all was as it should be. Ahiloban was beloved, child of the Source and she was content.

But in all things there must be balance and with an explosion of energy and Life and Light the Universe was born and with it, Shamshiel, child of the Source, the personification of all that was Light. He was the other half of Ahiloban but she did not embrace her brother. She envied him the Light, never understanding that without Darkness there could be no Light and without Light she could not exist. In her jealousy she stripped him of his powers because he was young, an innocent, an infant, and bound him. She hid him from the Source, diminishing him until all believed him nothing more than another Elohim, made to serve her, to serve the Source. The Source wept at his loss, but believed the lie of the first of it’s children. Safe in her lie Ahiloban wrapped the night, like a blanket of Darkness over the newborn Light and took him to her lover, the Elohim Ezrael to raise and control, never telling her what he was though she suspected for she was wise. But like her she feared this new being of immense powers and agreed to keep him hidden from the Source and from his true nature. Rid of him she was once more the only beloved of the Source. She was content to rule now over the entirety of Light and Dark.

Shamshiel was taken to the Court of the Watchers and there his powers were bound as he was placed in submission to Ezrael. But his powers were beyond all imaginings and in a moment of pure creation he created an entire world on which the elements of life were gifted. Frightened at the power this singular being could wield, Ezrael took him deep into the farthest reaches of the Universe, leaving the Earth, the world of his creation unguarded, uncared for. Ahiloban, curious if she too could create life took the elements of the Universe, the gifts within herself of the Source and created God, Yahweh, a creature of Life and Light. But in the moment of his creation, to the horror of Ahiloban another being came into existence, this one the embodiment of Darkness, of Death. It was Azazel, the Reaper, at whose hand even God would be mortal. Again Ahiloban did not understand that where there is Light there is Darkness, where there is Life there is Death, for these are the two sides, the Balance of Creation, the Balance that only the Source can fully understand.

Ahiloban was pleased with Yahweh, and took him to be her lover, gifting him the world that had been Shamshiel’s creation. Over this God would rule and together they spent millennia tending, watching and shaping the evolution of the life Shamshiel had birthed. The first lives were insignificant, boring and so God and Ahiloban came together and from their union they created Talis, a being of immense light and power and with him, his twin, Lucifer. Talis they called the Evening Star and Lucifer, the younger, the brightest, they called the MorningStar. These were the first of the angels, the first of all they would create. They were created to serve and worship. Again Darkness came with the Light and Ahiloban pushed forth not only the twins of Light, but one of Darkness, Errant, the first of the Daemos, into whom all sin and blame should dwell. He was given wings and bright fangs and in her disgust at the Darkness she could not escape, Ahiloban placed upon him the curse of evil and sin. And as Errant was birthed, a part of the Shadow dripped the heavens and fell to earth. There it formed the Serpent, a creature made from the vileness that Ahiloban had meant to place into Errant’s heart. From the earth the Serpent looked up and he coveted what his brothers had been given. And that envy grew into hate for those who had created him. He vowed with all the Darkness inside of him to one day kill his creators and take into himself all the power of Life and Creation.

The sons of God, of Ahiloban were given unto the Earth. Not to rule, but to serve. The twin stars were placed above the world, to serve and guide. Look up to these stars my children and see now shines only one. Too long has the brightest fallen, the night empty now with his loss. Alone his brother stands, steadfast against the Dark.

For another millions lifetimes Ahiloban and her consort amused themselves watching life begin on earth and by pitting their sons against one another. But as was His nature God became bored and from Ahiloban he pulled the essence of her powers and created beings of his own, those who would serve only him. They were rough in form and would take millennia to become what he wanted. But in those moments he seeded dissent and anger, he violated his creator and sowed the first seeds of her endless rage. On earth life flourished, growing, evolving at His will until a new creature began to walk the earth and caught His interest. With rapt attention He watched as hominids grew into humans and they pleased Him on their growth. But soon He became impatient with the pace of their evolution and He sent them down intelligence, gave them creative and clever minds.

Angry that God would take from her, create something without her Ahiloban created more creatures of her own, Behemoth and Leviathan, those creatures that were fated to bring the end of all things. She spun life with her anger, using shadow and shunning the light from which she was not formed and created other creatures, the demoness Lilith for her son Errant to love and to create life with, (name of Werewolf) the first werebeast, (name of dragon) the first of the Drakes and (name of faery) the first of the fey. From these creatures new races would grow, races that fed on God’s precious humans, the creatures she so dispised.

Fearing for the lives of his newest creation God took strength and life from Talis and from his drew out the very first of the Choirs of Angels, the Powers. These power and ruthless warriors he sent to earth to protect his creations from those Ahiloban had sent against them.

Furious that God would send these dark hunters after her children she sent a plague of ice to the world, believing it would kill off the life God had created against her will. Much of the planet died, but the earth that Shamshiel had created was magnificent and continued to evolve and on it life survived, the demonkind, the hominids, the children of Ahiloban and the animals that had evolved from the life given by Shamshiel. Life continued and growing bored once more God sent a new thread into his hominids and from them came the ancestors of modern man. Disgusted by his attentions to these humans, Ahiloban left her consort, going into the court of the watchers and there taking lovers among them. Alone in Heaven God studied the beings he had created with Ahiloban at his side and found he feared them, for they were powerful and could one day take from him the power he now coveted, the power he wanted to take from his creator. Fearing her, fearing the children they had made he stole from her sons the memory of who she was, taking from them the memories of their celestial mother and making them believe only HE was their creation. Lucifer and Errant easily forgot, but in Talis, as the first born, there was too much strength for him to forget, and more, God feared that one day his son would seek to take from him as he now sought to take from Ahiloban. Following his fear he pulled from Talis the rest of the Choirs, seeking to diminish him, to lessen his powers so that he would always remain loyal, always remain subservient to him.

Ahiloban returned to find that none of her sons remembered her, returned to find God had created an army of angels to serve him. In her anger she granted his humans freewill so he would learn what it was like to have a creation that did not obey, that did not serve. Looking down on all of thise the Source granted these creatures, these humans, the most precious of gifts, something that God could not control, that not even Ahiloban could claim, souls. They were given this great gift and placed on the Path to Enlightenment. And for them the Source created the Void and the Pit to help guide them on their place, to help teach them the lessons they would need to evolve past the flaws of their creators.

Over these creatures, now flawed, but now the more precious for their souls, God placed his angels. It was they who watched as life was born from the seeds God had planted long ago. It was they who watched as man took his first steps and spread across the globe. They watched and they served and God was pleased by all he had wrought. Beside him in heaven Ahiloban seethed, wanting her revenge. She began to have her fears that God sought more than just power of his creations and she created the TrueGuard, Daemos born of pure Illumination to help protect her from the Choirs of his Angels. The TrueGuard stood beside her throne and would protect her from any angelica assassin he might send to attack her.

Upon the earth the Serpent grew restless and urged on by Ahiloban found a young Daemos, Chaos the first born of Errant and Lilith, playing down among the humans. He quickly possessed him in a cloud of Shadow and Darkness and rode him up to heaven where Daemos played and lived among the Choirs. There he set about on his endeavor to destroy the one who gave him birth aided by the whispers of the goddess Ahiloban. The Serpent sought out the one known as Lucifer, curling up around him like a dank fog, possessing him, and whispered in his ear, “Why should the humans be so blessed? Why should their will be their own? Why should you, the first of God’s creations prostrate yourself before them?” With his words the Serpent planted the seeds of discontent and rebellion in the heart the brightest angel. Lucifer approached his God and begged for the same love given so easily, so freely to the humans who were born of nothing more than mud, while he and his kind were born from the stars and the breath of Ahiloban and God. Furious that Lucifer should question the laws he had branded into the Spirits of each of his angels God refused and in rage, fueled by the whipsers of the Serpent that possessed him, Lucifer rebelled against his God and many angels joined him.

Enraged God ordered Talis to destroy his brother and thus the First War began. Many angels died and in the middle of the conflict, though innocent of any deceit, the Daemos were murdered. Blood flowed through all of heaven as brother killed brother and sister murdered sister. At long last Talis defeated his brother, but as Lucifer lay at his feet, he could not make himself slay his twin. He would not do this, even though his God, his father had demanded it. He refused and God was sorely displeased with his disobedience and he struck down his very first creation and threw him into the Pit where he would be tortured and suffer for all eternity. God turned upon Lucifer and cast him and all of his followers out of heaven where they fell to earth in the shower fire.

The Morning Star fell because of a single lie. For a single whisper he was damned. It was but a single seed of rebellion that took root in the heart of him. It bloomed into war and blood flowed like water raining down upon the earth. The heavens wept while stars died. Angels turned from the will of God and were cast down, sent far from his glory to live no more in His Light.

Cast far from Heaven, Lucifer fell to Earth where he lay for nine days, suffering from the wounds his brother had given him and mourning the loss of his God and his home. Mourning the loss of his brother, knowing that his brother would be punished for his sins. When he could rise up once more he begged God for the freedom of his brother, but God would not heed his call. God looked upon His creations, angry that his Firsts had so fallen. Like a shadow they spread across the land and in his rage he cast all Darkness from the Heavens. Like a thorn he plucked out the Daemos and scattered them across the Earth. Cast down was Errant, first born from the Darkness, and all of his children. Into him all sin shall flow, in him all sin shall be found. His progeny shall overflow the earth and shall mingle with the children of men. Pity him all ye peoples, pity him for his birth. Pity him for redemption shall not be his, nor shall it be offered to those from him that were born.

In his rage God murdered the TrueGuard that served around Ahiloban’s throne because they reminded him of the sons he had lost. The last TrueGuard, a female, pregnant and afraid escaped from the Citadel with the help of the Virtue Vision, she escaped into the Verge, into the Lost Forest and there all believed she would die, alone. Enraged at God’s destruction of her TrueGuard Ahiloban left God to wander the earth in earthly form, many of God’s humans turned to her, began to worship her and so the DeaServus were formed to serve only her.

Then Shamshiel the Elohim, the Watcher of the Sun, took mercy upon Lucifer, took mercy upon Talis who had not been able to kill the brother that he loved. He freed Talis and set him back into the heavens though it cost him, as his master Ezrael was sorely displeased. For his actions Shamshiel was bound for 5,000 years in the heart the sun. Alone, in silence and in darkness, driven mad by his solitude.

Talis, released from the Pit, returned to humbly serve his God, scared to ever displease him again.

Ezrael saw how much horror the battle in the heavens had caused and she created the Gate, to which there would be only one Key. A Key in which she placed inside of herself. Through the Gate only the Pure angels, the ones who had obeyed their God, and only the souls of the humans as they followed the cycle of birth, death, rebirth, were able to pass.

Beneath the sun the Serpent crept, always looking heavenward, desperate to return and take his place upon the throne.

On earth the Serpent found his way back into heaven, in the heart of an honorable and righteous man, one that pleased God in his purity. The serpent possessed this man, this servent of God, Enoch, and when God granted Enoch a place in heaven as Metatron, the highest of his house, the very voice of God, the Serpent was the one given that honor.

Upon the earth the DownCast angels walked among man, taking unto them wives of the daughters of man. And to them were born the Nephlim and they became the heroes of old. Peace lay among the heavens and for time ruled the earth. (God fears the Nephilim because they are angels with Souls. God orders them to be murdered and Ahiloban sets up a way to steal them for her own use. Dark Nephilim do NOT have souls, but Light Nephilim do.)

In heaven, with Metatron whispering his lies, set on taking God’s throne and creation from him, God began to fear Ahiloban more, began to desire and covet her world and creations. He no longer wanted to share the glory of creation with her. With the help of his angels, with the help of the Elohim who had also begun to fear Ahiloban and her powers, God bound her and locked her deep into the heart of the very earth she had ruled and protected for so long. Using the life and power of her own creation, Leviathan, God locked her away beneath the sixty six seals held inside the very soul of Leviathan and his twin, Behemoth. As the Elohim drug him deep beneath the waves, bound him in the deepest, darkest trenches of the earth, in silence and in cold, in darkness and despair, the thrashings of his immense body sent a tidal flood that washed over all the earth. Killing many of God’s and Ahiloban’s creations. Few remained alive to repopulate the world. It was Talis who drove the last of the chains into place, proving his loyalty once and for all to his God. (The key to Leviathan’s chains is bound to God’s life force.)

In heaven Metatron sought to gain control over the Gate between worlds, a way to free himself to travel to the other realms and to gain dominion over God. He attacked the Elohim Ezrael, killing her. As Ezrael died she fled to earth and there passed the precious Key into a mortal vessel, there to remain out of reach from Metatron who could not pass through the Gate to Earth. There the Key took on human form and through the centuries was passed, mother to child until a dark angel took the human Key and placed inside of her a child born of the Sangrael and of Darkness. She was born a ShadowGate, a creature wholly unique. In her was the power over the Gate that none, not even the Elohim Ezrael had possessed, for inside her was a human soul, inside her was the Shadow and the Light, and more she possessed the gift of freewill.

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February 20

Angel’s Gate – The 1st 500 Words

Angel’s Gate is only 8 months away. 8 months from now and I get to share the first of the ShadowGate with the world. 8 months….feels like a lifetime away. I know you’re anxious to finally have a chance to read Angel’s Gate, so here’s the first 500 words to hold you over for a while.

“Life wasn’t supposed to move this fast. From birth to death so quickly. It was all too fast, too…over. So many words had been left unspoken, so many questions still unasked. So many things still unresolved between them, but now…now there was no more time. One sentence…one sentence had changed her life, shattered everything. Four words, one death and everything she had worked so hard to achieve seemed worthless.

Your mother is dead.

For AG Morris those words had stolen everything.

Four words and here she stood waiting for a flight to take her back to the one place she had never wanted to return. A flight that would take her home. Home…no…no, it wasn’t home. Not now. Her mother was gone.

Around her was movement, life, sound. Laughter. There shouldn’t have been laughter. Shouldn’t the world have stopped along with her own grief? The weight inside of her seemed to expand, compressing her lungs until she felt she couldn’t breathe. The grief was so huge it should have compressed the entire world. But it didn’t. The pain was only inside of her. The loss was only inside of her.

She wished those words could be erased from her mind, that they could be taken back. That she could return to that morning when everything was alright. When it mattered that the sun was shining, that she was breathing. The words didn’t fade, they didn’t go away.

So much time had been lost, there were so many things she had meant to say. So many apologies she had meant to make. Now she would never be able to apologize for words once spoken in anger. She would never be able to close the gap they had both pretended wasn’t there. She would never be able to forgive her mother for the abnormal childhood she had lived. She would never be able to ask why. Why an intelligent woman would carve spells into the window sills to ward off demons and to bind angels. She would never know now why her mother had hated her father so much that she had never even whispered his name.

Your mother is dead.

AG closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall. The waiting area near the terminal gate was over crowded. There were no open seats, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care that she was sitting on the floor, shoved into a corner between a stroller with a cranky two year old and an early twenty something that smelled like weed. All she wanted was to turn back time. She would have done anything to be at home, in her own house, in her own bed, and not there. Anything.

She opened her eyes slowly, hugging her knees. She watched a pair of teenagers walk across the terminal, heads bowed over their smart phones, but she wasn’t really seeing them. She wasn’t seeing anything. She was just…waiting. Waiting for her flight and waiting to wake up from what she knew wasn’t a dream. She was just…” – Angel’s Gate by L. Becker

Coming Halloween 2020

Reserve your advance copy now!

The ShadowGate: Enter and be saved….

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January 2

Kitchen Table – A Short

Image by Matt Sawyers from Pixabay

John walked into the kitchen, turned to toss his keys onto the table and stared.  He couldn’t help it.  Lying there in the center of the table were his keys. The very same keys he held in his hand.  He looked long at the keys on the table. They had the same bottle opener for a key ring.  There was even the same 49er key his five year old niece had given him for his birthday. He looked down at the keys in his hand, rolled them in his fingers.  They were real.  He reached out with his other hand and touched the keys on the table.  They chinked when he touched them.  They too were real.  He picked them up and held both sets, one in each hand and there was no way to tell them apart.  He turned and carrying both key rings walked back to the front of the house, looking as he went.  Everything looked as it should, and there his car sat where he had just parked it.  Or did it?  Had he ran part of the wheel onto the lawn?  He searched his mind, he couldn’t remember if he had.  He turned away from the window and looked around the living room.  There was nothing different then there should have been.            

He shrugged, his mind was playing tricks on him.  So, he had found a set of keys like his own.  That didn’t have to be that strange, did it?  He returned to the kitchen, he was still thirsty.  Everything inside of him went still, as there in the center of the table were his keys.  His eyes slowly lowered to the keys in his hand.  Two sets, yet there, staring at him, was a third.  He felt everything grow still around him, even the house seemed to hold its breath as he made himself walk to the table.  Reach out to take the keys again.  They were real, heavy in his hand.  He closed his eyes.  Was he losing his mind?  Was he perhaps asleep?  He forced himself to walk out of the kitchen into the hall.  Again his eyes swept the rooms spreading around him, his ears strained to hear.  No one was there, no sound could be heard to alert him that someone was trying to play a prank on him.  But they had to be, right?

           He couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that something was amiss.  Even though everything else seemed as it should, it didn’t feel the same.  Again he went to the window and looked at the car.  It was still parked, tire partially on the lawn.  There was the newspaper lying on the walk leading to the front door.  Hadn’t he already picked that up before he had left the house?  Hadn’t he?  Dread crept into him now as he looked slowly around the living room.  The TV was on.  When had that happened?  He specifically remembered turning it off when he left.  But it was on, with no volume.  On a channel he knew he would never watch.  What was going on?  He crossed the living room to the hall way that led to the back of the house. 

           “Becky?”  He called out, but only silence, heavy and dull, greeted him.

           He entered the bedroom he shared with his fiancé.  The bed was made where he had left it unmade only that morning.  The book on the nightstand was not the one that should have been there.  It was Becky’s nighttime read, not his.  He looked around the room. 

           “Becky?”  He called again.

           He turned and went out into the hall.  Why did he feel so scared?  These were such small things.  Surely Becky had returned to the house during the day and made the bed. She had watched TV and just forgotten to turn it off when she left.  That explained everything else, but what about the keys?  He looked down at the three sets of keys he held in his hand, but now there was only one set.

           He swallowed hard, looking down the long hallway to the kitchen where the light shone out.  He had to know, he had to look.  He stepped through the kitchen door way, looked at the table.

           There in the center of the table lay his keys.  Beneath them was a clipping from a newspaper.  He stepped forward to read the word, ‘Obituary’, followed by HIS name.

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December 18

Odysseus Vs the Cyclops

Image by Frank Becker from Pixabay

But my return was not to be as speedy as I had hoped.  I was waylaid along my journey, met with dangers and frustrations and now, I feared I might never return home.  We had been at sea for some time when we came upon the island of the Cyclops, it was a bountiful land, blessed by the gods and its inhabitants lived in a state of ease with no need to till the land or build ships to set out in trade.  Everything they needed was provided for them by the earth and wanting to gather some of that bounty to replenish the stores in my fleet, I took a small party and ventured in land to seek out the inhabitants there and partake in their hospitality.  We came upon a hillside in which a series of caves opened like yawning mouths and soon realized that the islands inhabitants made their homes inside the mountain.  Into one of these we ventured to find that its inhabitant was out for the day.  I decided to wait for our host and while we waited we made merry over fresh cheese and milk from his stores.  The day passed and as evening fell we heard the approach of our host.  First entered into the cave a flock of wooly sheep and we stepped forward to present ourselves to our host, but our words of greeting died before terror.  The creature who entered was man in shape, but monstrous in size with a single eye in the center of its forehead where it should have had two.  Overcome by a sense of dread we shrank back into the shadows, hiding, and I realized I had made a horrible mistake in coming there.  We hid back into the shadows, planning to slip out of the door when his back was turned, but the moment the last of the sheep had entered he sealed up the entrance to the cave with a giant boulder, so large that I knew we would not be able to open it.

I did not know what to do; we were trapped with a monster and had no choice but to hide.  But our hiding place was quickly discovered as the creature stirred up the flames of his hearth and the cave was filled with golden light.  We were discovered and the monster turned on us with a roar.  We froze and the monster spoke, his voice a roar that made the cavern walls shake.

“Who are you and what brings you here?  Are you pirates?” 

My men cowered back in fear, while my own heart shook, but I spoke though I was sure my voice trembled with my heart. “We are come from the fields of Troy.  We are but travelers heading home and seek your hospitality as the gods see fit.”

He laughed at my words.  “I do not serve the gods that you serve; I will offer you no hospitality but this!”

And as he spoke he lunged forward, grabbing two of my companions and before any of us could try to stop him or defend them, he smashed them to the ground, crushing them so that blood and brain spattered the floor in a dreadful hot shower.  We cried out in anguish and rage, while he stuffed his mouth with the flesh of our companions.  He laughed while blood ran down his chin, then left us to our fear and soon sat back in repose.  My anger burned inside of me.  I would have run him through, but I knew the blade of my sword would be nothing but a pin prick to a monster of his size.  So through the long night we waited, planned and plotted and by morning we still had no plan on what we should do.  As morning dawned the monster wakened, and grabbing two more of my friends devoured them for breakfast.  The cavern was filled with our cries and grind and crunch of men’s bones.  He left us then, once he had eaten his fill of human flesh and sealing us up inside left to take his flocks to field. 

That whole long day we tried to move the boulder or find another way out, but we were trapped and could do nothing more than wait for the monster and what cruel fate lay in store.  Even came and with it the monster and his flock, I tried to plead with him and then to bribe him with a succulent wine we carried to spare our lives.  But he drank our wine and still killed more of my men.  But the wine sent him into a deep sleep and while he slept we devised a plan.  Using a staff of wood we found, we crept through the shadowy cavern to where the monster slept.  Then, with the help of those who still remained, I plunged the end of the staff into the monsters eye, gouging out the orb, destroying the flesh while the monster howled in rage.  It thrashed in torment, flinging us wide and we scattered to hide while it lurched and stumbled around the cave, shouting and screaming in pain.  Blinded it could not see us and so we spent the night unmolested and prepared for the next step of my plan.

Morning at last came and with it our chance for escape.  While the monster felt its way over to the boulder that sealed the door, we quickly strapped ourselves to the underside of the wooly sheep that milled about the cavern.  They were large and their wool thick, hiding us from him.  Though he could not see, he positioned himself before the cavern entrance and when the boulder was removed, he felt along the back and sides of each sheep as it passed between his legs.  But one by one we slipped out unseen, hidden beneath the bellies of his sheep and we were freed into the fresh air of the morning.  I was the last to leave, I waited until I knew my men were safe and only then did I crawl beneath  the belly of his price ram, and clinging to the dark wool, face pressed against it, I let it carry me outside, while above me the Cyclops searched and cursed because he could not find us.

I mourned the loss of my men, but praised Zeus I had escaped.  Once we reached the fields in which the sheep were want to graze we climbed out from beneath them and raced back to our ship, praying to never see a Cyclops again.

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December 12

Fiona – A Short

Image by Fabio Marciano from Pixabay

By firelight she danced, moving like the flames, hips undulating.  Her hair unbound fell like a fire around her.  He could not look away from her. 

She knew he watched, unaware of what he truly was, yet drawn to him because of his power.  She danced for him, only and made him need her in spite of himself.  Long after the flames were spent he found her, came to her in darkness to take her.  She was waiting for him.

      “I had hoped you would come.”  It unnerved him, there was nothing meek and mild about this priestess of Athena.

       “You do not know what I am.”

      No, she did not know, but she knew he had power, knew she wanted to share that.  She knew to he had been alone for years, not realizing it had been for centuries.  Fiona spoke to that loneliness to get what she desired.

      “I know you want me, but it is not just my body you desire.”

      “What do you know of that?”

      “Let me ease your solitude.”

      He took her, but did not ease his hunger with her blood. He shared her body and came to love her.  He did not admit why he needed her so, unable to admit it was her resemblance to his long dead love, Deirdre.  A love he had killed with his thirst.  He loved her to right all he had done wrong.  That blinded him to the coldness that lay behind her eyes.  He loved her to his undoing.

      He only came to her by moonlight, that was his curse, to never see her by day. When he left her it was just before dawn and she followed him back to the hidden place he slept by day.  She followed him, watched the slumber that stilled his breath, the coldness of death creeping back into him.  She followed him when he left her, saw him feed, drinking human blood. And she knew that where his power lay.

      She made him confess all he was by promising to love him and be with him forever. Made him believe she loved him as much as he loved her.

      She seduced him, though she made him think he had seduced her.  And in darkness one night he changed her.  It frightened her as he took her blood, the pain, the viciousness.  It hurt as fang pierced flesh, as he drained her blood.  It made her limp and helpless in his arms.  She was repulsed by the blood she had to drink, his blood.  But she wanted his power and knew this was the only way.  He held her gently as she changed, brought her the first taste of human flesh, the tender flesh of a child.  She found she craved the blood, found she enjoyed taking life.  Enjoyed the fear she could invoke, the power she now had over others.  She was more savage than he.  Draca watched in horror this monster he had created, who would betray him.

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October 30

The Note – A Short

Image by Iván Tamás from Pixabay

It came in the mail.  It came with the bills and junk that came every day.  It didn’t stand out as anything too unique, just a rumpled manila envelope with a funny bulge in one end.  John grabbed it and everything else with it out of the mail box, shoved it and everything else into the side pocket of his laptop case and headed into the house, more concerned over the text message he had just received then the mail crumbled into his bag.  His current flavor was demanding more intimacy and the one he was ready to go after was more interested in his friend then him.  So he tossed the mail onto the kitchen counter by the sink and left it there.  And there it stayed a mangled mass of print ads and bills while he cajoled the woman he wanted and broke up with the woman he no longer did.  For three days it sat there in an ever growing pile of mail, forgotten.  Only boredom and a spilled beer saved it from being ignored for too long.  His elbow caught the bottle and it toppled over sending a stream of liquid into the nest of forgotten mail.  Panic flooded him as was natural and cursing he scooped the beer and much of the liquid into the sink, then began picking his way through the sodden mass.  The junk mail he discarded, the bills he frowned at and set aside to dry and the package, dirty, manila and now wet with beer stared at him.  His name and address had been scrawled across it with a black marker, but there was no return address and the handwriting he did not recognize.  Curiosity had him picking up the package and feeling it with his fingers.  It was thin, with a soft bulge at the end.  He slipped a finger beneath the flap and ripped it open.  He pulled out the single sheet of paper then, turned the envelope over to dump the rest of the contents into this hand.  For a moment he just stared blankly at the eye patch, a leather eye patch that any pirate could be seen wearing in any movie.  He turned it over, saw initials stitched into it, his initials.  Still confused he looked down at the note and read it.

John,

You won’t understand, you won’t believe, but you must.  I’ve been looking for you for a long time.  This was once yours.  Put it on and try to remember me.

Victoria

           He turned the note over, but that was it, there was nothing else written on it.  Ordinarily he might have just thrown the whole thing away.  But there was something vaguely familiar about that patch.  He hesitated for a moment, then put the patch over his left eye.  Nothing happened and he stood there, feeling the fool.  What did he expect?

           John.

           He turned, heart suddenly in his throat and there she stood, her face pale, transparent.

           I’ve waited for you.

           He ripped the eye patch away, but she was still there, wavering like a mist just out of reach.  “Who..?”

           Remember me, John.  She reached out and her hands seemed to pass right through him, right into him and it was a cold, very cold.  Remember me.

           He felt the rise and fall of a deck beneath his feet, felt the wind harsh against his face and smelled the salt brine that was tossed high with the spray. 

           Remember me.

           He remembered this; somehow he remembered this in the depths of his soul.  But he did not remember her.  She came closer and he saw tears, spectral tears in see through eyes.

           Remember me.

           Again the surge of deck, the creak of rope and rigging and then into his vision it all came, the memories of the life that had once been his and the woman he had once loved.  She stood before him, wavering like the memory, but more tangible.  She lifted her face to his, lifted hands to cup his cheeks and though they were cold, her lips were warm when she kissed him.

           Remember me.

           He remembered her…

October 16

The Peloponnesian War

Sparta still rests upon our threshold, holding us prisoner here in our beautiful city.  The people turn to Athene, asking her wisdom now that the great Pericles has perished.  The citizens of Athens tremble as another season of war comes upon us.  We turn now to wise Cleon to lead us against Sparta and to victory.  The death of Pericles lingers with us, the loss of him and his sons are a great loss to the people of Athens.  The plague still lingers within the walls of Athens and many sacrifice daily to the wise Goddess Athene and to Zeus to grant us deliverance and victory.  The only relief we have received is that Sparta is so terrified of the sickness within these walls it has retreated from Attica.

It has been two years since Sparta rose against us, since they invaded Attica and Pericles sent our fleet of proud triremes along their coast to suppress the unrest growing in the Peloponnese.  The audacity of that nation, to have announced their goal was to rid Greece of Athenian oppression.  Athenian oppression indeed, are we not the height of Hellas?  Are we not the dream to which all aspire?  Our achievements have earned enmity from those without, the Spartans are jealous of the heights to which our people have risen.  They attack us and force the peoples of Attica to make the long walls between Athens and Piraeus their home, while Sparta, with its thousands of hoplites have taken up the long fields around our city.  Our citizens, our soldiers wait on good Cleon to tell us what to do.  Fear is a strong current among the people of Athens, and only the gods know what we face in the months to come.  Summer approaches and the mass of Sparta’s army swells beyond our walls.  Inside the pyres burn as offerings are made to the gods and we wait, always wait for them to answer.

We can still draw hope from the words of Pericles as he addressed our citizens as he spoke the Funeral Oration last year. “We are still willing to encounter danger; we have the double advantage of escaping the experience of hardships in anticipation and of facing them in the hour of need as fearlessly as those who are never free from them.”  Pericles knew the greatness of Athens and of its people.  We will rise and fight, we are strong in our resolve and we have the might of the great Athene to guide us.

I have been told by my sources in the Council that clever Demosthenes, our new general has plans to lead an attack upon the Spartans, forcing their defeat.  Our navy still attacks and defends us; we are not without defense as our military stays strong, even in the face of the death toll the plague has caused.  We will strike back even as they plan to attack us once more as the year warms.

But still, our faith in the gods and in our leaders notwithstanding, there is much fear as rumors of the Spartans attacking Plataea spread throughout the city.  It is said the King of Sparta Archidamus II will lead the siege against Plataea this year.  Plataea it has been said is strategically beneficial to the Spartans as it will enable them to support their allies in Thebes.  At this time, these rumors have not been confirmed and we await the answers. War draws nigh and Athens will heed the call, we will be triumphant.  Mighty Athene grant Cleon and Demosthenes her wisdom in the battle yet to come.

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October 9

Tamlin – A Short

Image by Ivor Bond from Pixabay

Janet ran down the long hills of heather. Heather purple like the closed eyes of Heaven. Heaven blue above shone down on the hills. Hills long and green, rolling down to Tamlin. Tamlin, tall and strong, knight of the fairy Queen. Queen Titania’s favorite knight, loved by her, but loving Janet. Janet of the village, beautiful and fair met Tamlin in the Vale. Vale below the glooming walls of Cauterhaugh. Cauterhaugh, stern and scowling looked down upon the lovers as they embraced. Embraced in the passion of love, secret lovers. Lovers for more then a year since the day they had met in the world of Cauterhaugh’s courtyard. Courtyard long abandoned in which she had met him was now their secret roost in which they hid. Hid from prying eyes of man and elf, sharing their love. Love bound them and placed a child in Janet. Janet came to Tamlin again on a day in the fall. Fall, the death of summer’s life and the time of the fairies ride, Ride in the dark of night to the Crossing on All Hallows Eve. Eve of a holy day was when they gave their tithe to Hell. Hell required fresh lives and blood every seven years. Years counting Seven had Tamlin been in the service of the Queen. Queen Titania had ordered Tamlin to be the sacrifice. Sacrifice to Dark Gods that night, at the Crossing. Crossing of the roads was where Janet was to be hidden. Hidden at the crossing she waited in the dark of night. Night so cold and dark. Dark as death, the night around her came. Came like cold fingers to steal the life from Tamlin. Tamlin rode behind the Queen on a white steed. Steed of snowy white carried Tamlin to his death. Death which Janet planned to prevent. Prevent it she would and save the father of her child. Child of elfin blood he was, half immortal, half man. Man of elfin queen, he rode calmly past Janet. Janet knew what she had to do. Do it she did, springing up from her hiding place. Place of shelter hidden from the riders. Riders passed as she grabbed Tamlin and pulled him from his horse. Horse reared and shied away as she wrapped him in her arms. Arms that burned as Titania transformed Tamlin into a burning brand of Iron. Iron so hot it scorched her flesh. Flesh burning she held on still. Still clinging to her love as he was changed again into a writhing snake. Snake of many coils, with red eyes hissing at her. Her heart trembled yet she still held on. On and on the torment went until at last the hour passed into the next. Next day it was, All Hallows Day. Day of saints and light and Janet had won. Won her lover Tamlin from the clutch of the Queen. Queen Titania released her spell and Tamlin was returned to his natural form. Form of man once more he lay in Janet’s arms. Arms that clutched him close as she looked up into the Queen’s spiteful eyes. Eyes that burned with hate as she spoke. Spoke words that would for ever haunt Janet. “Janet, you have won this round but it is not finished. Finished it will be when I have your child. Child of thine and Tamlin’s will be mine.” Mine. Mine, such a word to bring so much fear. Fear forever in this curse. Curse to end in a long future date. Date yet unknown. Unknown and yet unwritten. Unwritten is the end.

End

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