PRYA KAYLERA LAKEFOLKHalf way down he saw the shadow leaping at him but being in freefall there was nothing he could do. The collision was powerful, catching him midsection and knocking the wind out of him. The attacker hit him with enough power and momentum behind him to reverse Max’s course. At first he was certain they would both fall all the way to the ground which, considering how high he had ascended the Downhills rooftops already, it would be quite a ways down. His body writhed and twisted as his instincts tried to get him turned around and into some kind of landing posture. That was proving to be extremely difficult. Mostly because of the strong arms wrapped tightly about his waist. Max grabbed onto the surprisingly narrow wrists and tried to pry them free so that he could get himself turned around before…“HUMPH!” The snow covered rooftop of a smaller building he had not been able to see when he first jumped slammed into them. It would have been a worse landing had they not been falling at an angle.They rolled in the snow both trying to end up as the one on top. Too beaten, too run out, and too surprised by the sudden attack, Max ultimately lost and found himself pinned. One hand was grasping his attacker’s bare shoulder, his claws strained against the inside of his leather gloves, the other was being held tight by a hand with claws of it’s own, over his own head. Strong muscled thighs straddled him and stole the leverage from his legs.“GRRRR!” was all he could manage but the growl froze in his throat when he saw beautiful lupine auburn eyes staring wickedly into his. A pearly white fanged grin sat in between fire red lips, split down the middle by a lone finger that was shushing him. An explosion of garnet colored hair fell down around her face which was so close to his now that it tickled his cheeks. The scent that he had searched for, that she had hidden before somehow, now flowed through his nose and pooled right behind his eyes. It was heady, warm, and his eyelids almost immediately drew half closed from it. His hand relaxed on her soft shoulder but he did not pull it away.“…Max….” she said in a low whisper, drawing his name out long and slow, like she was trying it out, seeing what the very sound of it told her about him. That shushing finger slid down to her bottom lip as she said his name, her nail, or claw just as flame red.Her other hand slowly eased its grip on Max’s wrist and then slid down his arm to his chest. She held it there for a moment, letting it rise and fall with his breathing.“…Maxxxxxx…” she breathed again and leaned into him, arching her back. Sweet breath brushed his lips, she was so close. Then she took the finger from her lip and placed it on his.Soft, warm.Her thighs slid up through the snow on either side of him and gripped him tightly. They were bare. She was wearing some kind of thick leather fur lined skirt that was slit up on both sides so her legs slipped out easily enough.How could she stand this cold?On her feet were calf high fur boots, bound by thin leather straps. They looked warm enough, but with only the skirt…The top she wore was more sports bra than shirt, it was so tight. She was bare from the shoulders. But she was so warm!Through his own coat, and two shirts Max could feel her heat. He was laying in a good six inches of rooftop snow but she was so hot on top of him. Or was it him? She was so close, those lips, eyes, her husky, warm whisper…“…shall I keep you this time?” She pressed into him, and he could feel her full chest slide over his. Her face came even closer.“Wha…?”“…shhhhh…” she quieted him and Max knew why. From far above there came a series of shouts and howls. Their voices rose as they drew near and then Max and the girl watched as the Downhills gang leapt off of the rooftop a few floors above them and landed onto the steeple rooftop of the church. Some fell but most made it to the very next landing which Max had planned to use himself. Snow flew and the howls continued but none of them looked back. If they had then they would have easily seen the two of them hiding almost in plain site.“You planned this. You led me this way.” She only smiled back at him her own eyes becoming half closed as she inhaled his scent.“Why did you help me?” he asked but she just lowered her head, blinding him with her blood red colored hair. A cool breath touched his throat and Max knew she was taking in his scent even deeper. His blood pumped hot behind his ears.“…again…” she answered and brought her head back up and met his eyes.“Again?”Her smile parted her lips and Max saw the canines gleam. A very red tongue flicked out and slid along the sharp point. She pressed even closer and despite his own layers of clothes he could have sworn he felt her nipples pushing into him.“When I was here before?” The night of the second break in. He been thrown into the river, came ashore near the Downhills, but… he could never remember how he had gotten home.“I was…” he had been near to death that night he was sure. “… was cold…”“…I warmed you…” the heat between them was making him loopy. His body was beginning to respond. He tried to focus.“Why did they attack me?”She pursed those lips. “…Lotarre…”“The guy with you at the Museum? On King Day?”“… wants what you have…” she had unbuttoned his coat and slid her hands up under his shirt. How could her hands be so warm?“’What I have’? The stone?” and for the first time she seemed surprised. That still did not wipe the smile from her face, so closed to his.“…stone?...”“Yes. The stone from the museum break-in. The stone that makes me like you.” And that broadened her smile. She leaned back exposing her neck to him in what would have been a good laugh had she dared to break the quiet.“…you think you are clan?” she asked looking down at him almost amused.“Clan?”“…yes…” she lowered her face, once again just a breath away from his and she smiled at him, this time deliberately flashing her fangs at him. “…clan…”What did she mean? Downhills clan? Not by showing him her fangs she did not.“I mean…” he showed his own teeth, canines top and bottom. “… like you.”But she just smiled and twisted her mouth. She looked away from him briefly, and upward. Her eyes searched the rooftops for any sign of the Downhills gang. When her probing fingers found the stone he wore on a string around his neck she turned back to him and pressed close, again grinding herself into him, her smiled wicked.In spite of the danger, cold and strangeness, Max’s body responded to her ferociously. Her thick strong thighs were warm enough to feel through the leather of his gloves.“…you are not like me…” she breathed into his ear.“I mean…” then she snatched the Stone hard and the string popped. In a cloud of flying snow and a playful laugh she bounded off of him and leapt from the building.He tried to grab her before she took off but she was too quick. When he got to his feet he saw her standing on another rooftop a good fifty feet away and ten feet higher than where he was. The stone swung back and forth as she dangled it tauntingly from her hand.“… no majiks…” he heard her say under her breath, like she expected him not to be able to hear. “… let’s see you claim the house now…”
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EDITED BY JOHN JOSEPH ADAMSFrom Star Trek to Star Wars, from Dune to Foundation, science fiction has a rich history of exploring the idea of vast intergalactic societies, and the challenges facing those living in or trying to manage such societies. The stories in Federations will continue that tradition.What are the social/religious/environmental/technological implications of living in such a vast society? What happens when expansionist tendencies on a galactic scale come into conflict with the indigenous peoples of other planets, of other races? And what of the issue of communicating across such distances, or the problems caused by relativistic travel? These are just some of the questions and issues that the stories in Federations will take on.Genres: Science Fiction only. Original fiction only, no reprints.Payment: 5 cents per word ($250 max), plus a pro-rata share of the anthology’s earnings and 1 contributor copy.Word limit: 5000 words. (Stories may exceed 5000 words, but $250 is the maximum payment per story, and stories 5000 words or less are strongly preferred.)Rights: First world English rights, non-exclusive world anthology rights, and non-exclusive audio anthology rights. See my boilerplate author-anthologist contract, which spells out the rights in detail.Reading Period: November 1-January 1, 2009Response Time: Most rejections will be sent out quickly, but stories that I like may be held until January 31 before a final decision is made.Publication date: May 2009Publisher: Prime BooksSubmission Instructions: Email your story in rich-text format (RTF) to John Joseph Adams at federations.anthology@gmail.com. Include the title of the story and your byline in the subject line of the email.ABOUT THE EDITORJohn Joseph Adams is the editor of the anthologies Wastelands: Stories of the Apocalypse, Seeds of Change, and The Living Dead. He is also the assistant editor at The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, and is the print news correspondent for SCI FI Wire (the news service of the SCI FI Channel). For more information, visit his website at www.johnjosephadams.com.http://www.johnjosephadams.com/?p=1630Read more…
In Brief:Allen Ashley will be editing a collection of stories loosely themed around “Catastrophes, Disasters, Post-Apocalyptic Fiction”. Allen is looking for original, unpublished stories which deal in a modern manner with these classic Science Fiction and Social Horror based themes.Rights and Other Technical DetailsWe are looking only for original material - No reprints. We are seeking to acquire First British and First North American Rights for your story with a six month moratorium subsequent to publication. At the current exchange rate we are offering 3p / 6c a word up to a maximum payment of £100 / $200 per story. We expect to only publish one story per author. The book will be split 50:50 between solicited works and open submissions. The submission period is scheduled to open on 1st July 2008.How do I submit?The information in this section applies only to "open" / "unsolicited" submissions. It does Not apply to invited authors.Please note: To enable authors to fully develop their core catastrophe idea and their characters’ reaction and response to the disaster, we are generally seeking stories in the range of 6000 to 12000 words. We will consider shorter material but we are extremely unlikely to take a story longer than 12000 words long.Please note: Before submitting – before completing – your opus, you should email a 500-750 summary to Allen at:editorcatastrophia@hotmail.co.ukIf we like your idea or approach, Allen will then contact you with a request to see the whole manuscript.Allen will NOT be receptive to submissions without prior email contact and agreement on the synopsis. Your synopsis does not have to include every plot twist but should detail the specific catastrophe/disaster/problem and the setting (e.g. downtown LA, the London Underground, beginning in Madagascar and spreading across the world…).Stories should be in English and in a legible typeface (Times New Roman, Arial, Courier New). Stories will be requested as an email attachment compatible with Microsoft Word or Rich Text Format.What do we mean by catastrophes?In short, some event that rapidly changes the world social order, threatens the survival of Humankind or planet Earth, reduces people to a state of mere hand to mouth existence, puts the clock of progress back a couple of thousand years almost overnight, takes our attention off the exploits of celebrities, footballers and politicians and instead focuses it on keeping ourselves and our loved ones alive until sundown… you get the picture. To give a further flavour of what we want, here is a quote from Allen Ashley’s story “The Overwhelm” (Catastrophe = World is engulfed by fog): “Truly it didn’t take much for the veneer of civilisation to be stripped away.”We are taking a broad view of what constitutes a catastrophe / disaster / apocalypse. Please note, however, that we do not view catastrophe stories as an excuse for disgruntled authors to indulge in a pointless orgy of gratuitous rape and violence fantasies.A Brief History of Catastrophes:These sorts of tales have a long and prominent history within the genre and are amongst the first titles that spring to mind when listing SF classics. Discounting Biblical, mythical and similar precedents, this sub-genre probably commenced with:“The War of the Worlds” by H. G. Wells (Invading Martians destroy Britain) and M. P. Shiel’s “The Purple Cloud” (Polar toxins kill everybody bar protagonist).Brian Aldiss famously labelled many of these stories as “cosy catastrophes” but that certainly hasn’t got in the way of our enjoyment. Your editor grew up on these stories and with “Catastrophia” expects to reinvigorate the genre for the twenty-first century. Indeed, recent films such as “The Day After Tomorrow” (environmental disaster), “Deep Impact” (comet strikes Earth) and a re-make of “The War of the Worlds” suggests the desire is there to be faced with the apocalyptic all over again.Further Information and InspirationWant to get the feel for the nature of the catastrophe before writing and submitting?Here’s an “off the top of my head” list of catastrophe stories to add to those already mentioned:John Wyndham – “The Day of the Triffids” (Blindness and Killer Plants);John Wyndham – “The Kraken Wakes” (Marauding sea monsters);John Christopher – “Death of Grass” (AKA “No Blade of Grass”) (All grass / wheat / rice crops fail);J. G. Ballard – “The Drowned World”, “The Drought’, “The Crystal World”, “The Wind From Nowhere” – early quartet of psychological / environmental disaster novels from the master;Brian Aldiss – “Greybeard” (No children are born);Edmund Cooper – “All Fool’s Day” and Richard Matheson – “I Am Legend” (Benchmark post-apocalyptic last man on Earth tales);Brian Aldiss – “Barefoot in the Head” (LSD contamination causes social breakdown);Edmund Cooper – “Kronk” and Charles Platt – “The Gas” (Rampant venereal disease / sex plagues);John Christopher – “The World in Winter” (New Ice Age);Keith Roberts – “The Furies” (Giant wasps);Roger Zelazny – “Damnation Alley” (Mad Max started here).For a really modern catastrophe story in the short form, I recommend that you track down “Approaching Zero” by John Lucas (Contemporary lifestyles as catastrophe!), most recently available in “The Elastic Book Of Numbers” Edited by Allen Ashley (Elastic Press, 2005).Catastrophes for the New MillenniumWith the current prominence of “Green” issues, you may well decide to try your hand at environmental disaster, biological agents running amuck, responses to the future fuel and water shortages or similar themes…I’ve always quite liked the idea of the animal and plant kingdoms getting their own back on Humankind (See “The Furies’, “Day of the Triffids”, the film “Them”, etc…) – so I’d be quite receptive to an idea along those lines. No vampires, though, which have been done to death.Something based on our dependence on technology in the so-called Information Age. No cyberspeak gobbledegook, please, and no rehash of “Transformers”… but I’m sure there’s plenty of material to extrapolate from.Better still, come up with a fresh catastrophe idea, something that has not been explored before but is still close enough to the real world to convince as an extrapolation or a possibility.OK, enough of me broadcasting ideas – it’s now up to you fabulous authors out there to impress your humble editor.- Alleneditorcatastrophia@hotmail.co.ukBefore We ForgetAbout P. S. PublishingP. S. publishing was set up by Pete Crowther in (1998-9) and is now the leading British independent press within the Science Fiction / Fantasy / Horror field. P. S. Publishing won the World Fantasy Award in 2006 and is a multiple recipient of the British Fantasy Sciety award.About Allen AshleyAllen is the author of 5 books including the novel "The Planet Suite" (TTA Press, 1997). As editor of "The Elastic Book Of Numbers" (Elastic Press, 2005) he received the British Fantasy Society award for "Best Anthology" in 2006.
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A few years back, I saw several advertisements for a book with a decidedly unique title: “The Coyote Kings of the Space-Age Bachelor Pad,” by an author named Minister Faust. It was published by Del Rey Books, and getting heavy promotion. Minister Faust, by all indications, was a black writer and also a Canadian. I’m a Canadian, too, by naturalization rather than birth.Always on the lookout for new additions to the ranks of black science-fiction and fantasy writers, I quickly got hold of the book. A few pages in, I was hooked – not only by the quality of the prose, but also by its sheer audacity.The story is told from multiple viewpoints, with characters introduced via a data sheet like the ones used in role-playing games. The setting is Edmonton, capital of the Canadian province of Alberta. Most Canadians consider Edmonton so dull that they refer to it as “Deadmonton.” But in the Minister’s hands, Edmonton becomes as lively and lethal as New York and Los Angeles put together.“Coyote Kings” combines the past and present, technology and mysticism, hip-hop and Egyptology. There’s a myriad of plot-points to juggle, but the Minister doesn’t let any of them drop to the ground.The main characters – a pair of talented, underachieving young black men named Hamza and Yehat, and a mysterious black woman named Sherem – are multi-dimensional and compelling. So is the supporting cast, which includes a white Rastafarian. The dilemmas they face are mind-boggling, but the characters have the inner resources needed to resolve them.What they don’t have is time, which they need because the fate of the planet is hanging in the balance.When I finished “Coyote Kings,” I admired the way the Minister conjures coherence out of what could have turned into chaos in the hands of a lesser writer. And I wondered what he would do for an encore. Sometimes, a brilliant first novel becomes a pair of shoes the author has trouble filling his in or her subsequent work.I needn’t have worried. The Minister’s second novel, “From the Notebooks of Dr. Brain,” is just as good as “Coyote Kings.” However, the books are so different it’s difficult to compare them. “Coyote Kings” is stone serious, even though it flashes some far-out humor. “Dr. Brain,” on the other hand, is pure satire, as well as laugh-out-loud comedy.It’s a parody of the superhero-comics genre, told from the viewpoint of Dr. Eva Brain-Silverman, psychotherapist to “hyper-hominids” during a juncture when the necessity for superheroes is passing. The focus is on a dysfunctional super-team known as the Fantastic Order of Justice – FOOJ for short.Superhero parodies have been done before. So have dysfunctional super-beings, ranging from Spider-Man and the Fantastic Four to the Watchmen. But nobody has done it as well as the Minister. If Richard Pryor had ever written science fiction, he might have come up with something like “Dr. Brain.”The humor in the story works on more than one level. For example, there’s mention of a “Crisis of Infinite Dearths.” That phrase would be funny to a person who’d never so much as looked at a comic book. To someone familiar with DC Comics’ “Crisis on Infinite Earths,” it’s hilarious.There’s at least one laugh like this on every page. Even though “Dr. Brain” is much shorter than “Coyote Kings,” it took longer to read because I was cracking my sides so much.Some of the hyper-hominids are direct take-offs on established heroes and heroines. Omnipotent Man, for example, is what Superman would have been if he were raised by the Clampetts instead of the Kents. The Flying Squirrel in “Dr. Brain” isn’t Rocky – it’s Batman, inspired by a different species. Iron Lass is Wonder Woman as an uptight Valkyrie rather than an earnest Amazon.The Minister’s imagination spawns plenty of original super-beings as well, such as Xman, who has the power to turn his spoken words into reality; and Brothafly, who is nothing like the Superfly of blaxploitation-movie fame.“Dr. Brain” isn’t all pun and games, however. Beneath the humor, the Minister takes on issues such as racism, homophobia, political correctness and the cult of celebrity. The satire almost – but not quite – overwhelms the serious aspects of the book.That’s two winners in a row from Minister Faust, who is shaping up to become a one-man New Wave in the SF genre. I’m really looking forward to seeing what he comes up with next.
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This one is a little hard to understand. I'm experimenting here... trying something new for me. please if you've time, hit me with some feedback, criticism, LOVE or hate.AWAKENING'SI feel cold. I'm sweating, I should not feel cold. The room is hot, people are fanning themselves, I've got sweat on my brow, but I feel cold. That's crazy, I'm crazy, and that's why I'm here.It started with the first snow. That's when I started losing control of my thoughts. Little things at first, small and innocuous, I paid them no mind at the time. In fact I may not even know when it really started, because maybe I never have noticed them until that first snow.I had just come back home from my first vacation, a trip to Mexico for the Festival of the Dead, and had arrived at the airport. There was no one there to meet me, no surprise, as no one had known that I had left. I wanted to call my house and check my messages while I waited for a cab. When I went to dial my own number I began dialing another. Just some random number that had nothing to do with me. When I tried again, it happened again, and again. At the time I just chalked it up to fatigue.I feel cold wind in my face, irritating my eyes.That makes no sense. There is no wind blowing in here. This is an office building with climate control. The heat is turned up to at least ninety...I broke the knob off at ninety-eight.No I did not! I've never even been here before. I just came in and sat down, I didn't touch anything!I'm afraid to call maintenance. I don't want to get into trouble.No I did not do it! But I can see it in my mind. I remember turning the dial. It broke off in my hand. But I just got here.Reluctantly I look up. The receptionist desk sits in an alcove. Behind the lady receptionist on the wall I can see the thermostat. The knob is missing. Oh God.Hot in here. This is insufferable.My nose is numb from the freezing wind.I place my hand to my face and feel my hot skin. It's a little oily from sweat.Boy do I look troubled.I imagine how I must look sitting here to the others in the room. Head in my hands now, leaning over so they can only see the top of my baseball cap,Some black college.Howard University. I'm wearing a long thick trench coat that keeps me warm outside in the cold. It's been a particularly cold winter and I bought the trench when I saw it hanging in a store window. Only... I don't think I really wanted it. The thought and the desire to have it was much like the cold wind I'm feeling on my face now. I never even liked trench coats before but then I had to have it. Even now I think I don't like it, but I still where it. Crazy.I must be hot in this coat.I am, but I have to keep the cold wind off of me somehow. Sweat droplets slide down my chest and I can feel my body heat pouring up out of the neck of my shirt onto my neck and under my ears. It's crazy hot in here, why don't they open a window.Why don't they turn the heat down?Because I think I broke it.I wish the windows on this floor could be opened like the ones upstairs.Oh God. My thoughts are getting more and more inconsistent. That's why I'm here right? But it's always worse when I go out or at night in my apartment building. I've got to move.Man do I look troubled. Maybe it's drugs.I don't do drugs! Maybe I need drugs, to control my thoughts. I can't stop thinking crazy thoughts. No, not really crazy thoughts; I've haven't thought about hurting anyone... yet. That's why I'm here though; to stop this before it gets any worse.It's too much pressure. I don't want to feel anymore.A wave of pain rolls over my mind. Cold wind blows across my face and I can feel it on my chest now.I could just... fly away.That thought felt like a lie. Weird. Never felt like that before. I can't just fly away. But then again, I never touched that thermostat.God what's my problem? Too bad, I'm kind of cute for a black guy.What is taking so long? I need to get help now! Is this what it's like to lose your mind? Thoughts running amok whenever I'm around people. I don't even know if this doctor can help me. Maybe he'll just give me a prescription for prozac, everybody gets prozac.Someone's coming.I stand up suddenly and look around. There is no one coming into the waiting room. There are three other people in the room now, but no one new came in. I was certain someone was coming. So certain I could almost see themOh shit! What's my problem. Hope I don't start no crazy shit. Picked the wrong day to come up here.I imagine how I must look to the others in the room now. Standing up suddenly, looking about in a paranoid fashion, I startled the others. They were trying not to look at me now. I don't blame them.So I just sit back down and place my head back in my hands. I don't even notice that it's been hot for a few moments when once again there is a startling blast of cold air in my face. Even with my hands covering it.Good just sit back down boy, don't cause no trouble.I hope I'm okay. Maybe someone I knew died.What? No one died! Man it's getting worse. Take a deep breath. Control it... Control it. Just a little while longer and I can get this shrink to give me a script to get me back in line. I can't live like this any longer and if it's going to take drugs to do it then so be it.Just fly away.My ankles ache and now my hands are going numb. A shiver runs across my shoulders.Drugs. I've got to be on drugs. Look at me I've got the shakes. And how can I be wearing that coat? Must be a hundred degrees in here. Drugs. Probably that crack. Kill my wife for sending me hear in the middle of the day with crack heads like me.I'm not married. It's getting worse by the minute now. I could almost see my wife's face with that thought. No one sent me here. I sought this place out. This is where...My brother went here.No I don't have a brother. Now I could almost see his face."Dammit." I mutter under my breath.Oh shit. There I go. Soon I'll be pulling a gun out and killing everyone in this room. Next time Sharon can get her own papers.Sharon, a soft faced woman, about forty years old, blond hair and blue eyes not aging too well.Someone must have died. I feel sorry for me. I wonder if I'm a student here like me. Probably not. I'm a little older and I've never seen me before.My image is inconsistent with other images of students here at the university. I'm not a student here though. College for me was a long time ago in another city. The strange thoughts are gaining not just in frequency but in sharpness as well. I could see the image of myself as it was matched against the back drop of this collage. I was trying to see... if I myself had seen... me on this campus before. It was such a clear thought, so distinct. And there was Sharon, whom I've never met but I knew she needed me to get something for her. What is going on with my sanity? I've never even heard of something like this.[Afraid to get in trouble. It's my first day.(Crazy crack head.*I look really lost.(God it's hot in here!Damn! The heat is unbearable. I stand and hurriedly pull off my trench coat. The sweat on my now exposed forearms starts to cool.(Thought I was going to pull a gun.*Hey. I'm wearing a shirt like this/that.What? There was a strong image of my shirt, black, long sleeves rolled up, turtle neck. Then a mirror image, but the sleeves were rolled down, hands and face not my own. A woman, white, here. I look up then and scan the room. I've seen that girl before and not just in crazy thoughts.Sitting on the other side of the room she was. She looks down and away as I look at her.*Oh God I/he saw me/me looking at him.Nervousness overwhelms me. The woman is looking away from me now her head down and staring at her hands. As I look at her the cold winds cease and I can feel the heat of the room more clearly. I'm filled suddenly with nervous energy and I can't figure out what to do with my hands or what to look at.But I just look at her. She's obviously nervous, like I'm suddenly feeling... looking at her hands.Nervous and suddenly sweaty. *Why is he/I still looking at me/me?A blurry image... me, head still turned in my direction. My direction.I look at her, she fiddles a little.*Why am I / is he still looking at me / me? Just look back at me/him then.I feel my lungs fill as I take a deep breath and she looks back up... at me. Our eyes meet and I see her...The cold wind rushes back into my face, across my chest. If I just fly away... No! Focus! I'm onto something. Look at her eyes.She meets my stare with resolve.*I/she won't let him/me intimidate her/me.Oh God. That... that wasn't my thought.*If he/I wants a staring match, I/me will give him/me one.It's her thought. Her thoughts!*I/she/I am not looking away.I could feel what she was thinking. Am I going crazy? Or is this real?(Looks like I am / he is about to start some trouble with that girl.I turn my head then, looking right at the man sitting across from me.(Oh shit. I am / he is looking at me/me now.I can see a quick flutter of images now, my gaunt face fluttering away to the magazine the man is reading. I am hearing... no feeling his thoughts as well. He's nervous now as well as irritated about the heat and the wait for the psychologist. The papers he had to get don't seem so important anymore. Sharon... she is his wife.They are not my thoughts. I did not break the thermostat, someone else did. The receptionist? She's looking at me also. Wanting the Doctor to hurry up, deal with me and get me out of here. It's easier now to interpret her thoughts now.Sweat dribbles down over my brow, MY brow. I wipe my forehead with the back of my hand.[I'm going to lose this job over that damn thermostat.Her thoughts were just as easily apparent to me. They all were, all at once. It was like listening to a group of people talk at once. No… more like ‘Feeling’ what everyone else was feeling at once.*Looks a little better now.(Crack fit appears to be over for now.[Just call maintenance and say it was like that.<...fly away...The cold wind is back. I shiver at the sudden drop in my body temperature.*Oh oh.(Oh oh.[Probably was already broken.Very cold now. Like I'm standing outside in the snow. My ankles ache… No, not MY ankles.Overwhelming stabs of melancholy… I can't go on.Feels like my whole world is a small tight box getting tighter… Got to get out… I can't go on.(So beautiful.Philadelphia skyline. Familiar, but I wasn't really seeing it. Cold hard wind… Face numb… Hands numb… My ankles ache horribly....and I could get out of this box....and I could rise up out of this gloom. Hard concrete slides across my finger tips. I can see the American Commerce Building sign in the distance.(Crack head is starting to lose it again.*He looks so confused.[What is taking the Doctor so long? Get this nut out of here.Not my thoughts! I must keep telling myself that. THEY ARE NOT MY THOUGHTS. Then whose are they?The door to the Doctor's office is closed. He's a psychologist so maybe the reason he's taking so long is because he's having a serious problem with a patient… a patient standing out on his ledge, ankles aching as he tries to negotiate the small ledge.I'm struck by a bad case of vertigo and I almost fall over. Someone is going to kill themselves. The office.I take a step toward the door and then hesitate. I think I'm waiting... waiting for it to end.(What's he up to?[Hurry up Doctor!*Maybe I should say something.Maybe I've been drawn in by his despair, but part of me wants him to jump. Part of me wants to...The office door is locked.[Oh shit! Sir you can't go in there!"Sir you can't go in there! The Doctor will call for you..." I hear and feel her voice behind me. I feel her think the words just before she says them. I must focus on that ONE voice."Open this door!" I shout and in my mind, with everyone's attention focused on me, I hear my own voice in stereo.Startled. Two distinct impressions of my sudden pounding on the door from inside and out.There isn't enough time. I slam my shoulder into the door. Once, twice and the frame cracks, three times and it flies open.Shock. Fear. TERROR!Wow… So that's what it feels like to be a rich white guy and see me coming at you. Yikes.But there's no one here. No window open and no thoughts in their minds as to anyone on a ledge. Maybe I am crazy. Maybe I'm just making this all up in my head to explain my losing control of thoughts. Oh God.I look again to the window but it definitely is not open."Is there some problem?" $He's looking for drugs! The Doctor said and thought. Images in his mind about the phone... then his hand and whether they were in my line of sight.The window to his office was on the same side of the building as the window in the waiting area. In the distance I could see the American Commerce sign. Maybe I saw it in the window in the waiting room. I could still be crazy, but... I'm still cold.I can't feel my feet anymore, my fingers hurt when I try and bend them. My throat is raw from the dry cold air and I keep coughing.$Don't do anything to set him off. He could have a gun."Shut up!" I scream at him, but he can't help it. He is terrified now and his fear is starting to eclipse the man on the ledge. I place man hands over my ears and shut my eyes as if that could help. Standing here like this I look classically insane to him.A window sill scrapes along my back and I stop and lean against it. No! He stops and leans against it. I, me, I look out the window again and still I see no one.$While his eyes are closed..."Don't do it!" I say with a sudden ferocity that he jumps. He was going for something in his desk. I can see the gun in his thoughts as he plays the memory of it in his mind.Focus. Where is he? I can see his thoughts, feel them, smell them, hear them, taste them, just sense them. They are pouring out of him... no, he is screaming them out at me... no just out, out at the world.$Won't get another opportunity!"I swear to God..." I warn him again and spare him a quick glare.Focus. I'm on a ledge. I'm against a window. What window? It's on this building. The American Commerce sign is staring at me both through his eyes and through that window but... not exactly the same. It's at a higher angle from this office than it is from the ledge. It's...Whoa! Gust of wind pushes at me and nearly pulls me off the ledge. Why am I hanging on? Just let myself fall... I want the wind to pull me off anyway. I want an excuse.Focus. HE wants the excuse. Where is he? Higher in the building certainly and on this side of the building.$Just do it!"Don't!" dammit I've got to get out of here but I feel so close. It's as if he had been in this room.(Call the cops! Why won't she call the cops? She's got the phone!*Someone should do something! I wonder what he’s doing in there.No not this room. One like it upstairs.Focus! He climbed out the window. They are different upstairs. They can open.But he couldn't jump from the window. No... he could not jump from that window. The American Commerce sign was on this side of the building, so did he go right or left?[Oh God I can't remember how to dial out.(My cell.$The gun now!Left! The window he left was on his right so he went left. The building is the same except for some huge vent that would have stopped his fall under that window. So he shuffled left.Vertigo again. He's starting to push off the building.(9-1-1!*The cops are gonna come get him. SadnessThe window he was at now must be above the one in the waiting room. I dash back out and slam into the receptionist's desk in my hurry.[Don't hurt me!$Get the gun!*He looks frightened(Did he see me on the phone? Fear.Their thoughts rush through my head as I run past them to the window.[That window won't open.(Good. Just kill yourself boy.*Oh no. Don't hurt yourself. "Don't..." fear/hesitation.$Bullets. Just use the speed loader.The window won't open. I can't find the edge. The receptionist doesn't know either. If I could just scream at him not to...<...awayI feel my foot fall on empty air and I begin to fall. No! Focus! I am not falling. One chance.$Loaded!I run back across the room and grab my chair.Focus! The chair is heavy but not too heavy. Pick it up, pick it up! I run with it over my head back to the window.$Careful. Maybe he left. Hey! That’s a four hundred dollar chair!Hard. Hit it hard!The chair shatters the window but is too wide to fall out. I let it fall to the floor.I can see the shattered window coming up fast. Oh God man, just reach out!I jump halfway out the window with my arm outstretched.*Don't!$My security deposit![Blame him for the thermostat.< A hand?His hand hit my forearm and slides down to my hand where...$What was that?(Good Lord! Was that...*He caught someone.He damn near pulls me out of the window. My thighs come up against the window frame hard. Glass crunches and scrapes across my torso. Can't let go! He's so heavy! His weight pulls my feet off the floor and they swing up kicking the chair across the room.(He'll fall!*Oh no! HESITATION.<...so sorry...My body pitches forward out of the window. I can feel the panic and horror from everyone in the room and the man outside. Or is it my own fear?My heels slam into the window frame with a rattling jolt. I'm laying across the window ledge by my thighs now and sliding further out. The backs of my boots shuttled down the window frame until my knees hit the edge of the sill.*Should I?(Maybe I should...$Somebody should...[Going to die.I scream for help but the rushing winter wind takes my voice. Their indecision fills the room behind me like a thick fog. Oh God, somebody...!!HELP!!It is much like a bolt of electricity. I don't think that any of them are aware that it is not my voice that they just heard. It doesn't matter though; all I care about is the result.I feel them rush forward, toward me, with my urgency, my fear. Their hands claw desperately at my legs until they get good holds and begin to pull me in.Looking back to the jumper I feel his turmoil before I see it on his face. He had second thoughts on the way down, and now he was having second thoughts on his way back up. What was so terrible? What ever it was he wasn't thinking about it right now. There was a... a note, he didn't want anyone to read the note.Glass scrapes my arms as we are both pulled inside and fall in heaps on the floor. My heart is racing along with everyone else's our adrenalin being driven by outside forces. Mine by the fear and excitement I feel from them, theirs by the thoughts I am still reflecting at them. I close my eye and then quiet my thoughts as well. As seconds pass I can see everyone calming down a bit.It still seems unreal. I'm actually sitting here reading their minds, no not really I guess. It's more like feeling their thoughts, their emotions, their every sensation. Funny, but all of a sudden these people seem more real to me than anyone I've ever met. And there are more real people coming in now from the hall. Their concerned for the Doctor,*...His office...* security has been called,*...saw that crazy looking black guy...* heard the noise,*...sounds like a fight...*As people enter the office they see me on the ground with the man who tried to kill himself,*...crack head...*their judgments are like assaults on me. They accuse me in their minds wishing to do so out loud. Wanting to be here to see security drag me out,*...hit him a little...*Too many thoughts and I fear I will go insane. Glass crunches under my feet as I rise to my feet.*...Uh oh...* FEAR(How did he know?)*...Somebody stop him...* "Hold it buddy!"(They think he...) "He didn't do anything!" I feel her concern for me. She thinks we have some kind of connection because we stared at each other for a moment. (...what are you thinking...)*...then what did he do...**...where is security...**...say he broke it...*There are too many thoughts again, and they are starting to blend together. I have to get out of here before they threaten my sanity like they did before.Another wave of fear rushes over me as I move and grab my coat and bag.*...going to pay...**...a hero...**...how did he know...*I brush past some people at the door and I know their fear for a second.*...don't look at him...**...don't leave...*[...RECKONING...] and I pause in the hallway. That thought was faint but amazingly clear. But there is no further thought like that. Everyone in the hall is looking at me, but none with the conviction or purpose to match the strange thought I just picked up.*...maybe if we all grab him...**...should hold him until security...**...if he's armed...*It's getting bad so I turn quickly and walk down the hall toward the elevators. There are thoughts ascending that are easy to recognize as security guard so I side step to the stairwell. Getting out of here won't be that hard. Dealing with what I am will be the hard part.This is the dawn.Read more…
You have received this email because of your relationship with LibraryJournal. For customer support or to stop receiving future promotionsfrom LJ, please scroll to the bottom for instructions.--------------------------------Dear Publicist:To help libraries prepare for Black History Month as well as supporttheir ongoing purchasing of multicultural books, Library Journal willagain feature in its November 1 issue works by and about AfricanAmericans.This issue will include books being published between November 1,2008, and February 28, 2009. Please supply us with two galleys (or books) ifpossible in all subject areas, including reference, art,literature, poetry, religion, biography, history, politics, health,science, sociology, economics, and fiction, as well as promotionalinformation and catalog copy. Please do not include children's books.This material is due on August 25, 2008. If you have any questionsplease call (646) 746-6800You may mail information to Ann Burns, Library Journal, 360 ParkAvenue South, New York, NY 10010.
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WINTER GHOST P 2HOWLSI flinch at the tiny shards of ice that scrape against my face and shut my eyes tight until the wind changes direction. When I open them I see that she has closed her eyes again as well. It’s almost like she’s sleeping. Naked except for her nightgown, her supple form could be lying in plush white bed covers. Radiant skin stands out in stark contrast to the snow. Soft legs rise out like tranquil islands in a white sea, undisturbed by the harshness of the blizzard churning around us. I almost don’t want to disturb her.But she must be cold.I bend down, sinking one knee deep into the snow despite the cold. Carefully I slide my hands beneath her. Frozen snow slides up my sleeves but I don’t stop.Another blast of ice and wind screams over my back, across my neck and burns my ears raw.She can’t have been here long, not with skin so warm. Her eyelids flutter slightly, like the wings of a butterfly, as I take hold of her but otherwise she doesn’t stir. Not even as I pull her from the blanket of snow.Again the wind bawls, flying down the alley almost as if in protest.She is so light. It’s like there’s not much of her at all.More icy snow rails across us and I pull her even closer. Her warmth pours through my thin jacket and seeps into my chest.She is so soft that I’m afraid to hold her too tight… I might hurt her.Her eyebrows are furrowed ever so slightly but somehow her face is still peaceful. I… I’ve never seen her before but… something…… in the slope of her nose…… the pout of her lips…… the fan of her eyelids…… something is so very familiar.How did she get here?I look up, squinting through the wind and snow and see that of the two homes set on either side of this alley; only one has a light on.One light, in one window, on the top floor of the house. But there is too much falling snow for me to see it clearly. It’s just a blurry haze of amber light so I can’t tell if it’s open.Could she have fallen from that window? Is someone looking for her?Of course they are. She must have come from this house. If someone is still inside then they must be worried for her. I turn with her in my arms toward the front of the alley.The snow is so deep now that I’m taking huge awkward steps to get through it. Her toes are dragging in the piled snow and I try… but I can’t lift her any higher.Almost to the front, she’ll be home soon.The wind is picking up and changes direction again. It howls down the alley once more driving another cloud of snow into us, almost forcing us back into the alley.It’s so strong… I can barely move forward.It’s so loud… almost like… it’s angry.At the opening of the alley now and I can see the storm is getting worse. It hasn’t abated at all since I got off work. The sky has grown even darker and the snow is so thick in the air that I can’t see across the street to the other homes. Huge wind blown drifts of snow are waist high most places… and in others it looks to be piled higher than my head. The city is going to be at least a week getting out from under this.At least the snow is still fresh. I can kick though most of it and I wade toward the front of the house. Just one step at a time… just get her inside before we both freeze to death.I march on. The tempest still fights us. As we emerge from the alley I see the snow covered steps leading to the house’s front door to our right.Almost there. I pull her tighter to me. The twin bushes at the front steps sway back and forth in the wind throwing snow all about them. Wads of it pelt us as I plod on toward the steps. The snow is even higher here… but we’re so close.More wind… more snow… I close my eyes to the attack and take another step.I almost trip as I stub my toe against the bottom of the steps. So I grit my teeth and open my eyes. In front of me, at the top of the steps is a huge recessed doorway. Partially hidden in its shadow is a large wooden door.The wind howls in protest as I place my foot onto the first step…
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RECKONINGThe snow covering the forest ground reflected the moon light, keeping the black of night at bay long after sundown. The night was clear after the winter storm, and the snow covered everything. It had been a fairly gusty storm so the snow found its way everywhere, over rocks, over trees, and even under their sheltering branches. The moonlight, consequently, found itself everywhere, lighting up the park to the point where one could see quite clearly for nearly a hundred yards or so.In the clear areas.Like so many things in life, no matter how bright the light is shining, no matter where or how it is directed, there are always still dark corners. The denser parts of the park, where the trees stood closer together and the branches seemed to be thicker… more clustered together, these places remained hidden. They remained dark, the thick tangled black trunks and branches crisscrossing over each other providing a shield from prying eyes. And like so many things in life, dangerous things, wicked things, found their way into these dark corners.Roach was a dark, wicked thing. In people, darkness is hollowness, a lack of soul, like a cold damp fire pit. Dark things see the world differently. Without the light inside to compare they cannot see the light outside. When Roach looked at the world, he could not see the light in people, their souls. To Roach, they were as inanimate and unreal to him as clothing, tools, or toys. In most cases, they had even less value to him. Their usefulness to him always ended very practically, and often very sadly, for them. It was his wickedness that caused that.In people, wickedness is manifests itself in intelligence. Roach was no scholar, to be sure, but he was extremely intelligent. Evil is the result of that intelligence being guided without a soul.Roach was extremely adept drug dealer / whoremonger. He was dark enough to do what was necessary to gain the power and money he wanted and he was wicked enough to know his limitations. Roach had been in jail once, learned from the experience, and had never returned. He also was smart enough to avoid the treachery and gunplay that went hand in hand with his chosen profession. That is not to say that he had never killed anyone. Indeed he had killed more than his share of valueless things, and had never bothered to count. Roach was wicked and never killed when it could come back to hurt him.Dark, wicked things are curious by nature. Perhaps because the unknown was dangerous, or better yet powerful. It was curiosity that had lead Roach to discover the forgotten underground railways that lay beneath his neighborhood. Wickedness had allowed him to use these railways to build his small drug base right under the noses of the police and rival dealers. Wickedness is how he used them to carry out kidnappings and assassinations that kept him strong. Curiosity is what brought him to the woods tonight.The railways had a partially hidden exit in the park. Roach knew this was both dangerous and powerful. It could allow someone to discover his drug base, or it could allow him a more expansive route to ferry his product.Roach was not alone. There were two dark things with him. They lacked his intelligence, but what little they did have kept them both useful and aware that without Roach they would be two dry, crumpled little dark things.They followed him out here this night, deep into the woods. Roach said there would be no cops, it was too cold.He was right.Roach said that they would be able to see just fine. The moonlight was strong.He was right.Roach said that they would find something out here they could use.That remained to be seen.The woods had an eerie, turn of the century ghost story look that night. The effect was lost on the trio, as they merely perceived it curiously; dark wicked things only know fear when faced with actual death. Roach looked for the darkest corner of the woods, almost instinctively and he found such a dark corner not too far from the opening to the railway. A nice good secluded area that was elevated on a hill. It could not be seen for the thick black branches. Roach knew it would be hidden even better in the summer, when leaves filled the trees.Then his cold eyes with their big black greedy pupils spied a light, a small glow high on the hill that had almost got by him.The light flickered… a fire then.Who would have a fire here? Curious.Dark wicked things are good at being silent when they want. Like wraiths the trio crept up the hill towards the light. The snow was fairly new so it did not crunch. The branches were clearly outlined by the snow and they avoided them easily.Fate always seems to favor the dark wicked things.At the top of the hill was a clearing. From under the cover of the tree line Roach and his two shadows peered. The fire was huge, a bonfire. The mind of the dark wicked thing noted that despite its size and brilliance it could only be seen from this close proximity because the tree cover was so dense. He also noted the figure moving about the fire.The person wore a ragged hooded cloak, and moved, or rather danced around the fire. The dance was slow, small movements, at first. Roach thought he saw a glimpse of skin, a bare foot, and then a leg also bare.… a woman's leg.The dance became more feverish, as she undulated wildly. Her arms and legs flashed more and more. Roach saw that there was a dry area of ground surrounding the bonfire but that the woman danced wildly and stepped on the snow as well as the dry ground without care. The dance got even more crazed and it seemed to Roach that she was not dancing so much as going through some kind of seizure. The undulating motion caused her hood to fall back and her huge unkempt mane of hair burst free. Even at this distance he could see the leaves and twigs entwined in her hair. It was as though she had been rolling about on the ground.More shaking and then she began to take huge steps around the fire as from the other side came another bare leg. Another woman danced around the fire from the side he had not seen. Roach now saw as the second woman danced now facing them that beneath the cloaks… the women were naked.Dancing naked around the fire.One of the dark things behind him muttered.Yes, Roach agreed; Damn.The women stopped moving around the fire, shook, and began to roll their bodies, swaying back and forth in front of the blaze.More muttering came from behind him as his two dark followers enjoyed the show.Roach thought quickly in his wickedness about what was going on here. There was no one else on this hilltop. They had circled as they came up and he was sure. Whatever happened next he was sure would not be seen by anyone. The dancing of the two women drew him strangely.Their bodies were sweating from their exertions despite the cold. The sweat shone on the skin and the trio of dark things felt stronger stirrings than even at the dark corner bars where the women danced naked and did whatever pleased. Roach knew enough to be wary of lusts but his confidence was strong.It was too dark up here for anyone to see.The park was empty anyway.They had an escape route.The women were theirs.The dancing began to reach a pitch. The women writhed and convulsed. Their legs stiffened, spread apart on tiptoe, as their breathing became loud audible gasps. Now.Dark wicked things entered the clearing and the light of the fire. The women continued their wild movements apparently unaware. Roach walked right up to the one closest, the one he had first seen naked. Brazenly he stood right in front of her and admired her body as she rolled her hips in snake-like fashion in front of him. He allowed the smile to slide across his lips. He wanted her to see it when she noticed him. His two shadows were over with the other woman, respectfully leaving him one to himself.Big black pupils surveyed her body. The sweet pained expression on her face, the sweat sheen covering her full breasts, the rippling muscles of her belly, the small enticing patch of soft hair that made his jaw tighten, the swaying thighs, legs taught with spasms, small pretty feet on tip toe, as convulsions racked her body.Damn right.Then her feet collapsed to the ground, and the cloak settled back over her body, leaving only one smooth thigh exposed. Roach slowly raised his eyes, very careful to keep the smile in place. First he saw the now relaxed neck, then to his surprise, a smile, as sly as his own.She was into it. Good.Then he saw her eyes.Dark wicked things only know fear when faced with death. Roach looked into the woman's eyes. The pupils were big, black, and there was no soul behind them. There was a flicker of fear.But if Roach had learned anything in life, it was that the adage of fortune favoring the bold was true. The smile stayed."You ain't have ta stop dancin'." he enjoyed the smile, but the eyes were so cold. He had never seen eyes that dark before, not even in the mirror.She looked at him not with shock, fear, or even anger. Her eyes were like those of a spider having found a fly wonderfully close to the center of the web.She raised a small delicate hand and placed it on his chest. Roach liked this but the wickedness in him warned him of danger.There was still a small flicker of fear……but he liked her smile.There was some shuffling behind him. Roach figured the woman on the other side was either fighting or giving it up. Then the shuffling quieted a little and He wondered why it still sounded so heavy. He turned to check, he did not want this to be a fight, not if it did not have to be.One of the shadows was on the ground and not moving. The other was on his knees in front of the woman; her hand around his throat drawing blood, her other was raised high... fingers splayed like a claw.Wickedness can be a wonderful survival tool. It combines ruthlessness with viciousness in amazingly effective ways. Roach turned clockwise lightning fast while swinging his right fist in a solid backhanded arc. His left hand reached into his pants and grabbed the handle of his nine-millimeter.The punch missed by a margin so narrow, that he could feel the edge of her nose push air back at him. The gun came up and that soft delicate hand of her became a terrible claw that slashed at his face.There was a gunshot, but Roach never saw it, all he could see was a flash of crimson, his blood. Her nails had torn open his face, and ripped open an eye. He let his legs buckle and he fell backwards. Blood was on his lips… he could taste it. Roach pulled the trigger several times as he fell. In between each loud explosion her could hear them laughing.Then there was a sharp pain in his wrist as the woman grabbed it and Roach could not hold onto the gun. It fell from his hand and he felt it bang against his knee. He searched blindly for it with his free hand.More laughter.Darkness and wickedness can be a source of strength. With dark resolve Roach opened his other eye. The gun was not by his knee, he could not see it.More laughter.Some gurgling, most likely his other shadow was still alive. He looked up to the woman whose claws dug into his wrist. She was regarding him with an evil fascination her eyes deep hollow pools of black water.The light from the bonfire wavered. There was more laughter now, and Roach sensed something darker and more wicked than he. The dealer turned toward the brilliance of the fire and saw a third woman.She was standing in the bonfire.Naked, save for some kind of pendant, the woman stepped out of the flames. Her skin was on fire but did not appear to be burning. Roach blinked his one eye hard not believing what he was seeing. She stepped, flatfooted onto the ground and the dry leaves and twigs under her feet caught fire. Where was that gun?The woman from the fire smiled at him almost sweetly. Roach still saw no burning. She looked briefly at the other shadow and then quickly back to him. Wickedness warned: Pain now.She reached down toward him, her hand toward his face. Roach's hand scrambled through the dirt and snow searching for the gun. Heat poured out from her so intense that he felt his skin begin to blister seconds before she even touched him.The heat was white hot, her burning hand sealed his mouth shut, and he screamed through his nose. Then his mind went black to match his heart.She stood and looked down at her mark on his face. It was good. He would be useful, as well as the other two, although the dead one would only last so long. She turned to the first woman whom still held the limp wrist of the interloper in her hand. With a deliberate slow movement she extended her hand and the woman took it in her own. Steam rose from their touch."You are flame unbounded." the woman said seemingly unharmed by the burning touch. Indeed she was unharmed, as there was a thin layer of ice covering her skin. As it turned to steam at their touch the snow she stood on renewed it. It slid up her legs, over her body, down her arms and covered her against the heat."You are absolute now Embrena. Perfect fire.""We are nearly complete Lavena. We are fire.""We are nearly complete." she answered. "We are water."The other woman looked up at this recitation and then regarded the two men at her feet. The earth there softened beneath the two men. Slowly they began to sink into the earth as if it were quicksand. The dead man was completely consumed, but the other sunk until only his head was above the ground. Then the earth was solid again and she walked to join the others."We are nearly complete." she said. "We are earth.""Where are we lost Terrainna? How are we not whole?" Embrena asked almost formerly."There is no wind. No wind to shape the earth.""There is no wind. No wind to carry the rain.""There is no wind. No wind to fan the flame." then Embrena turned back to the bonfire. "Time is short. We have seen the end of this city in our dreams. A reckoning is coming. The storm shall be upon us within but one turn of the seasons."Terrainna spoke then, her voice deep and strong. "We have seen the paladins as well. Those who will rise against the storm.""I have seen these beings as well you know. But I have not seen them stop the storm. The city will be consumed. The reckoning is coming." Embrena said still staring into the fire."We need to become complete. We need the wind. We must find our Zephrynne. Only then can we see clearly and find an alternate path. Only then can we stay the storm." she regard the small mound of earth that held the dead man."We must send these to find her." and the three moved again to surround the fire. They began an intonation together in latin.The earth softened again and the two buried men were pushed out, moist dirt clumps clinging to them. First the man who was buried to his neck stood then he staggered away from the bonfire and down the hill.Roach opened his eyes. Darkness and wickedness lay deep in his eyes. But there was urgency as well. The wind must be found he knew. The wind must be found and brought here. Roach followed the first man back into the woods.Finally the body of the dead man stirred. Lifeless eyes opened and it stood as well. No longer a man, the dead thing had only one instinct, one drive and that was to capture the wind. It too moved back down the hill leaving the women alone on the hilltop again. They continued their dance around the bonfire, oblivious to the cold, repeating only one word."Reckoning."
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A DVD anthology of strange fiction presented in animation, film noir, and photo/art montage sequencing. Animators and film makers – Submit your completed shorts in AVI format. OR send samples in order that we may consider your tallents for creating new work based on selected short stories.Wirters – Please send only stories which you feel are easily transformable to animation or film. 1000 – 3000 is best – script preferred but not necessary. In the subject line: "arcane".We review all year round with a maximum two month reply time. Upon acceptance of any work we will request first world rights or in some cases non-exclusive permission. If the work you with to submit has been previously published or is in any way comparable to somebody else's work, please query first. We are a royalty publisher.John Varcoe – Submissions Editorsubmissions@crossingchaos.comhttp://anthologynewsandreviews.blogspot.com/2008/07/arcane-distortions.htmlRead more…
DAWN OF THE BLACK SUPERHEROESDEISELA scream like that of some tortured animal lanced out down South street from out of nowhere. Loud enough to immediately silence a usually very noisy crowd. The scream did not stop however, it continued on turning into a grinding motor-like sound. That's when the other screams started.Their cries rose in my mind like hot steam, and it took me a moment to adjust to the din. From the few thoughts that were clear to me I could only discern that something monstrous was coming.In true South Street tradition, the entire crowd began to run, pouring down the street like a river towards Penn's Landing. Only a few of the younger kids just coming to South Street for the first time, lingered a little, unsure of what to do.I was about to run myself when I caught a glimpse of what it was that was creating this mayhem; a truck, a huge truck. It was barreling down the middle of South Street smashing and grinding up the cars parked along the street. Cars caught ahead of it in the bumper to bumper traffic attempted to get out of its way by pulling off to the side, but the wide frame of the truck covered most of the street and sidewalk. Its oversized steel grill was merciless, turning newly painted, hot waxed, aluminum rimmed rides into smoking heaps of broken chrome and ruined frames.Again I was about to turn and run, when I noticed someone moving against the grain of the panicking crowd, someone who did not have it in his head to haul ass like the rest of us. He was easy enough to see as big as he was, towering above the hoochie-mamas and wanna-be-players that were running in the opposite direction. I stopped moving, a little stunned, and tried to sift through all the panicked minds to hear his thoughts but I could not.From his back all I could see was the long leather coat he wore and the tops of his white basket ball sneakers peeking out from underneath as he strolled right into the path of the monster truck. I tried to get a sense of what he was doing, why he was walking toward what everyone else was running from. The fear and confusion in the minds on South Street that night were too much for me to read through to any one person's thoughts.The gigantic semi bore down on him smashing the parked cars along the sides of the street and pushing them before it but not slowing down in the least. Still Leather-jacket did not move, he just stood there, waiting for this monster thing to devour him and grind him under like so much chuck.I considered sending him a thought burst, a mental message, trying to get him to move out of the way but I did not think that I could focus my thoughts together quickly enough to be more than just a distraction to him. So I watched, as the nightmare from Detroit met Leather-jacket in the middle of South Street.To my surprise, and the general surprise of those who were still watching as I was, “Leather-jacket” was not ground under the big black wheels, or thrown fifty feet into the air. Instead the mountain of a man took the charge of the beast like a 400 hundred pound offensive lineman, locking his hands into that wicked looking front grill with a loud clang. He leaned into the Diesel and set his feet against the ground, the thick soles of his high-tops starting to burn against the black tarred street.I realized that even though he had somehow survived the collision with the Diesel, that he would not be able to stop it. Once again I was going to turn and run finally, hoping to expand the rapidly shrinking distance between the monster truck and I. Then like a blast I felt the disaster, the panic and fear of two score human minds that saw the same dreadful sight, felt the same emotion...concern!! The singular thought was so similar and yet coming from so many different minds that I became dizzy for a second. I then turned trying to see the same image that I was now seeing in the minds of over twenty people, all generating a ripple of excitement and terror.Finally I saw her. Young, she could not have even been in high school for more than two years, one of the many kids who were really too young to be on South Street that late. She was wearing a tight form fitting dress and a pair of heels that proved that this was her first time on South Street. Anyone who has been there more than once knows that you must wear clothing that allows you to run.Focusing my mind I searched out her thoughts through what felt like the roar of a hundred screaming souls. She was terrified of course, and had turned both ankles because of those pumps she was wearing, (her mother's). I could feel her fear which was so intense that she could not make herself move or even look up.Without listening to another thought I ran out into the street. The girl was in-between myself and the approaching Diesel monster. I should not have stood a chance of reaching her in time much less getting her out of the path of destruction, but I could now tell that the huge mountain man was actually slowing the monster down.I reached the young girl who lay curled up with her eyes shut tight. The closer I got the more powerful I realized her fear was. The cars that were parked along the sides were all being pushed like train cars in reverse by the wide monster truck, locked together bumper to bumper, blocking any path off of the street and out of danger. I could not hope to get the girl to the sidewalk;We would have to outrun the damn thing!I grabbed her by the shoulders, intending to shake her out of her panic, only to be greeted by a bolt of terror from her mind so violent that I was dazed for a second by the sheer ferocity of it. Being a telepath has its down sides I have discovered.It takes a moment for her to realize that it is not the end yet and though still strong, her fear abates somewhat. So then I can think again and I hear a sound different than the roar of the diesel's engine. Then I felt something begin to pelt me on my back. I turn to see big baseball chunks of tar flying through the air. Leather-jacket had dug the heels of his sneakers into the ground so defiantly that they had begun to dig up the street rather than be pulled under the monster truck. So amazing a sight was it that I almost forgot my own predicament until I started getting pelted by larger bits of road tar.Good thing, the young girl turned out to be very light and picking her up was not a problem. The Diesel was almost on top of us by the time I get up and running. The train line of cars started to buckle and one car slid out onto our path in the middle of the street. I stumbled a little and ran around it still feeling larger chunks of tar hit the backs of my legs and seeing some flying past my head. The roar of the Diesel's engine was deafening as was the fear in the girl's mind which overwhelmed my own.So close was the machine behind us now that Leather-jacket's thoughts drifted into my mind as well. They were so focused, so concentrated and simple that I could not help but to hear. One single thought that ran over and over again much like a mantra;*JOHN HENRY - JOHN HENRY - JOHN HENRY*Another car swerved into the street and I ran around that too and chanced a look over my shoulder to see the broad side of that car slam into and bounce off of the big man's back.*JOHN HENRY - JOHN HENRY - JOHN HENRY*Then the ground rose up beneath us as a large slab of tar broke free of the street from the digging heels of Leather-jacket. We fell as the tar broke free, the girls pain mingling with my own, our fear rising as we were then pushed along on top of the slab by the Diesel which threatened to over run us.Then it began to howl, it seemed like. The machine began to shudder and let loose frightening grating noises and it actually began to slow. Leather-jacket howled in return as if he realized that this was his last chance and he seemed to dig in even more.We had been pushed almost all of the way down South Street past several onlookers who had escaped the truck via side streets, but we were trapped riding on top of a wave of ripped up street. Now Penn's Landing was in clear view and despite the fact that we were slowing we still had enough speed to be dumped onto the freeway, maybe even the river.But then as If he knew it was now or never the big guy took a breath and heaved and the Diesel slowed drastically, the grating noise growing ever louder. I could see the muscles in his back straining even through the leather of his coat. The beast slowed even more as bigger and bigger chunks of road bubbled up underneath us. The Delaware loomed before us and even the girl had opened her eyes to see.Then gratingly, shuddering, hissing, and grumbling, the Diesel came to a halt right at the end of South Street. A few more fits and growls and it seemed to die, collapsing over it's wheels as it did, sinking about four feet down. It had the look of some huge animal carcass, still staring at it's killer.The girl and I stared, mouths open, too shocked to make a sound. We watched as Leather-jacket pulled his hands out of the front grille where they had been embedded. He turned and looked at the two of us for a moment and I could swear I saw the beginnings of a smile. Then he stalked off, back up the path of the truck and soon all I could see of him was his black leather coat and the somehow still white backs of his high tops, that had withstood what the street could not.Sirens shrieked up upon us along with cameras and an even larger crowd. No one knew it then despite all that we had seen but that was it, the Dawn. We had seen the first of the dawn of the Black super heroes, and I was to be one of them.end?
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My nationally syndicated public television series Heavy Sedation will begin airing in Eastern Europe starting in August. It will be seen in Germany, Switzerland, Austria, Lichenstien, Denmark, Luxembourg Serbia, Bosnia, Montenegro and Italy. If yout not getting it in your Hometown in the USA call your local public televsion station.PeaceShannonRead more…
Nicktoons Networks Animation Festivalhttp://nicktoonsnetwork.nick.com/home.htmlThe Nicktoons Network Animation Festival is back for it’s 5th year! An event founded in 2004 to showcase the diversity of worldwide animation filmmaking, The Nicktoons Network Animation Festival is the largest multiplatform animation festival in North America. The festival features the best animated shorts (10 minutes and under) from around the globe. Shorts selected for the festival have the chance to make it on-air, online and to be showcased at the live event in Los Angeles in October. All shorts selected to screen in the Festival are eligible for all these great prizes! The Grand Prize; the $30,000 Nick Development Award, the Grand Jury Award; $10,000 chosen by our featured 2008 judges, the Producers' Choice Award, the Online Viewer’s Choice Award and the Student Award in partnership with mtvU.2007 proved to be another great year for animation! Nicole Mitchell won both the 2007 Grand Prize and the 2007 Grand Jury prize last year with her charming short, Zoologic. Jiwook Kim won the 2007 Producer’s Choice award with her delightful short St. Laleeloo. Javier Barboza won the 2007 Diversity Award for his touching short, Feb. 18 2005 and Andy Lyon won the Student Award for his funny short Bare.This year proves to be bigger than ever with more ways to enter into the festival than ever before!For our budding young animators under 18 we have our Greater Creator Contest! Send in your idea for a character and show idea and you could win a trip to the Nickelodeon Animation Studio in Burbank for you and your family, as well as a Animation Academy to come to your school!New to the festival this year is the “I Got Game” Contest in partnership with AddictingGames. Send in your idea for a game character and you could win the chance to have it made into a free online game!And coming soon an exciting contest in partnership with LEGO.Festival winners are showcased on-air and the prize winners announced during the 'Nicktoons Network Animation Festival Best Of Special' in October. Shorts are also featured online where viewers can vote on their favorite shorts, and will be showcased at our exclusive live event in Los Angeles also in October.Nicktoons Network is the fastest growing kids' network* and offers a 24-hour schedule featuring programming such as the Nicktoons Network Animation Festival, Skyland, Kappa Mikey, The Secret Show and Martin Mystery, as well as a roster of hits that have defined kids' and animation lovers' TV, including Avatar: The Last Airbender, Invader Zim, Danny Phantom, SpongeBob SquarePants, The Fairly OddParents and The Adventures of Jimmy Neutron, Boy Genius. Nicktoons Network is a part of the MTV Networks expanded suite of channels available for digital distribution. The new channels include MTV Hits, MTV Jams, Nicktoons Network and VH1 Mega Hits, expanding and strengthening MTV Networks' digital offerings to thirteen services.Nicktoons Network currently reaches 50 million homes via cable, digital cable and satellite, and can be seen on Cablevision, Charter Communications, Comcast Cable, Cox Communications, DirecTV, DISH Network and Time Warner Cable. Nicktoons, and all related titles and logos are property of Viacom, Inc.*Nicktoons Network was the Fastest Growing Kid's Network in the past year among K6-14, K9-14 and K12-17. Source: Nielsen Media Research, 01/01/07-12/30/07 vs. 12/26/05-12/31/06. (Live) US AA%http://nicktoonsnetwork.nick.com/nnaf/Read more…
Please criticize. tell me what you really think. any problems you see tell me. hope you enjoy.The doors of the oval office flew open. Ten men in military attire walked in with haste. “ Mr. president “ the first one through the door said carrying a laptop. “ we have a problem”. “Doesn’t any one knock any more “ the president said looking up from his desk. “An unidentified aircraft has appeared over Southern Ireland“ the man continued. “ok” the president said wondering what this had to do with him. “ keep me posted as the situation progresses” . “ Umm President Fisk I don’t think you understand the true magnitude of the situation” the general said standing in front of the resolute desk. “ the unidentified aircraft is ten times the size of a B52 Bomber and it just appeared on our radar a hour ago.” The presidents facial expression changed from a look of indifference to look of utter disbelief. “ Well what do we know general?” the president said. The general sat his laptop on the resolute desk.“ No country has claimed the aircraft it does not appear to be armed” the general said typing a password into the laptop. “ it appeared on our radar as it entered our atmosphere. Our sci…….”. “ Wait” the president said looking at the general. “ Are you trying to tell me this thing came from space?” the general looked at the other men in the room as if looking for direction. “ It appears so Mr. president.” The president sat motionless behind the resolute desk. Within the last five minutes General Waldo and his comrades had given him information that had made his three years of experience as president seem like ill preparation.The president covered his face with his hands. “Why didn’t we detect this thing earlier?” he asked frustrated. “ We don’t know” said a man in a air force uniform. “ Wedidn’t know this thing existed until an hour ago. We believe the craft has advanced stealthtechnology the likes of which we have never scene.” “ Do we have any idea who designed this thing?” the president said looking at another man. “ Maybe China or Russia” he said turning his head to the director of the CIA. ”Not possible, Russia’s space program all but collapsed after the cold war. They don’t have the capability to dream of things like this. China, no way. China building something like this is like giving your two year old a tooth pick and he conquers the world with it”. “ You still haven’t answered my question “ the president said getting increasingly agitated. “ Who does this thing belong to?” he said looking around the room. The room went quiet. The men held their heads down looking from one to another waiting for someone to answer the question each of them dreaded. General Waldo stepped forward and cleared his throat. ” Umm President Fisk we don’t believe that this craft came from a country on earth. Our theory is it came from space.”President Fisk sat dumbfounded behind the resolute desk. “ Space” he said to himself. Never in thirty eight years of existences had he heard or attempted to mentally conceive something so absurd. Had any other man who had sat in his position heard such words. George Washington didn’t have to deal with space ships. Did he? Wait he thought to himself. This is obviously some kind of joke. “I’m getting Punked, it all makes since now. In a few seconds a hidden camera crew will surprise me and I will laugh the rest of the day away with General Waldo and every one else who was in on it. In the morning there will be a huge headline in USA Today that says “ President Fisk Punked” and all will be well again. But no such thing happened. The grim faced military men stood aroundhim waiting for directions.“What is the location of the aircraft?” he asked the general. The general studiedthe laptop. “ It is moving southeast at approximately 250mph over the Atlantic ocean. It is expected to enter the Gulf of Mexico in three hours. “ Is there a way to deploy aircraft to the UFO before it reaches the coast.” “ Yes sir Mr. President” the secretary of the navy said stepping forward. “ The USS Enterprise is returning home from the middle east . She’s loaded with eighty FA-18`S ready for orders. “Well what are you waiting for?” said President Fisk now standing up. “ Get all of those planes in the air intercepting that what ever the hell it is. Do not use force if unless necessary. Where the hell is the director of the CIA, O there he is, get me a line to Russia and the United Kingdom.” “Yes sir” the men said in unison. Movement began in the room as the secretary of the navy and the director of the CIA went to carry out their orders.“Has this got into the news yet?” the president asked the general. “ No major news providers have gotten hold of the story yet.” the general said now sitting in a chair in the oval office. “I guest that’s a plus side.” the President said. “The press will find out eventually send out a press release telling them as little as possible. Make it seem minor send it to NBC they don’t ask many questions”.“Mr. President” the secretary of navy said. “ the planes are in the air and are in route. They should intercept it in five minutes”. “Good keep me posted” said the president. “ Where is my line to Russia are we the only country doing any thing about this. Where the hell is France?” “Mr. President” the director of the CIA said. “ TheRussian prime minister is busy at the moment but they are sending support to investigate the UFO.” “Fantastic” said the president . “Now we need to talk to Mexico are they prepared for this thing whatever it is coming to the gulf of Mexico.” The door flew openagain, in walked a Navy officer.” Mr. President the planes have a visual of the unidentified aircraft. We will send you a picture as soon as we receive them.” “ Excellent” said president Fisk. The officer walked out and closed the door. “ I want all air traffic suspended” the president said. “ I want the country on……” suddenly the door swung open as he attempted to give out orders. The officer that was In the room moments ago was back again. His expression had changed from one of confidence to one of a lack of understanding. “Do you have the visuals?” the president asked the officer standing in the door way. “ No sir” said the officer. “ Well what’s the problem?” asked the president. “ It’s the planes sir” said the officer nervously. “ What they’ve been shoot down already?” said the president shocked. “No” said the officer who was the center of attention in the room now. “ The pilots were unable to control the planes its like they have a mind of their on and now we’ve lost contact with them.” said the officer hardly believing his own words. “ What?” said the president.Suddenly the lights in the white house flickered. Every computer and TV screen went black. “What the hells happening?” yelled the president. The door swung open again. Another officer ran in. “ We’ve lost control of all the computers.” Suddenly the screen on the laptop that sat In front of the president changed. on the screen sat a figure in shrouded in the shadows. All the men in the room crowded around the laptop on the resolute desk.All you could see of the figure was its outline. “Inhabitants of earth” the figure spoke with the voice of a highly educated man. “ It is of me and my peoples greatest apology that we should intrude on your planets daily routines in such a rude manner. But we felt the message in which we are sending you is worthy of the inconvenience. I am sure you are allwondering who we are and why we have taken over your mass communication networks? Well first of we are Ekos. From the planet Noiz and we are hear to save you. You see my people are at least twenty five years more technologically advanced than the people of earth. So therefore we have had more experience with space exploration. We have been to galaxies your scientist have yet to discover. We have also studied earth and its inhabitants. We have studied the cultures your languages history and technology. That is why I am able to communicate with you today. The purpose of this unexpected visit is to tell you about a rather grime discovery. A few months ago we discovered a giant rock roughly the size of mars traveling at mach 5. We observed the object and calculated its path and we have concluded that in five years the rock will collide with earth. Upon discovering this information we worked feverishly to destroy the object but to no avail. But we thought of the next best thing. That is the purpose of our visit. The evacuation of earth. We understand that this may be hard to fathom but we have evidence that we are more than willing to present to your leaders. A ambassador from our planet will be sent to each of your countries leaders to present our evidence and our plan. Our plan being to transport the inhabitants of this planet to Noiz until other accommodations are made available. Ten spacecraft are in route to earth at this moment to began the transport evacuation. The spacecraft will accommodate only three hundred thousand people at a time. But manymore trips will be made. In order to board the spacecraft you must go through a scan. The scan will determine if you have any disease that could infect other humans or Ekos. If you have any such ailment you cannot enter the craft. The evacuation is strictly voluntary. If you wish to stay on earth we will not stop you. Though it is in your best interest to comewith us if you value your life. While we are happy to do this for the people of earth we require a small payment. Your planet has a mineral that would be useful to us. Jade as you call it is useful in the medical advancements of our people we recently discovered. We will require at least ten tons of it. We believe it a small price for saving the whole human race. In five minutes our ambassadors will met with your countries leaders. We hope no violence will come from this since we are doing this in your interest. I bid you farewell.”The screen went blank again. The men still watching it expecting it to do something else. The lights flickered and the computer went back to normal. The room was still quiet. The president stood there staring at the men who stared back at him. “so everyone in the united states saw that?” the president asked not directing the question to any one in particular. “ Yes” said the general. The door swung open again. “There is a unidentified aircraft approaching from the east.” said the officer. “ The ambassador” the president said. “Don’t fire on it” the general said. “ Don’t piss these guys of until we figure out what the hell their talking about.” “Get ready for the ambassador” the president said. “I want the director from NASA I want every astronomer scientist and every other guy with PHD that I should be talking to here ASAP.” The room filled with movement.The door swung open . “Mr. president” a grey haired man wearing a suit said. “ Riots are breaking out all over the country.” the door swung open again. “ Sir look out the window the ambassador is approaching.” President Fisk ran to the window. There he watched a aircraft no bigger than a Oldsmobile approach the white house front lawn. A phone rang. The general picked it up. “Ok” he said and hung up. “that was Canada their ambassador has arrived. The aircraft slowed down for a vertical landing. The aircraft was a grayishcolor. It had no wings or a jet engine. It looked like a giant mushroom. The windows were pitch black. The aircraft began to land. The wind from the aircrafts engine blew the trees and bushes nearby. The wind sent a brick flying towards the window of the oval office. The president ducked just before the brick crashed through the window. He stood back up as the aircraft had turned of its engines. As soon as they were off secret service agents surrounded it without guns drawn. The president watched as the doors of the aircraft slid open. A figure began to appear.
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I do not like the name: Snow White.No one could be that pure.But, accepting it, let us move on.Such purity,existing in a world as political as a castle,could be daunting, unnerving.And for a beautiful queen,learned in intrigue,reared in flattery,such purity would not only be daunting,but also an affront.I am thinking of a girl I met in college,an idealist at twenty,who wrote untouched,undiminished,unbroken songs,about white unicorns.This girl was hard to stomach.And not that I spent hoursin front of mirrors--but simply looking into the mirror of her songsshowed how diminished,broken and unwholemy songs were.This is not to sayI side with the queen.Only that I understand.
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2The GuideVye had only been submerged for a few seconds and already Dame believed. Her appearance was almost angelic as the thin rays of morning shone through the crystal clear waters, zigzagging playfully across her golden skin. He'd always admired her courage, her ability to fight. They’d shared a mutual respect over the years while noticing one another from afar and recently they’d formed a friendship he sensed would flourish under the new faith.Nearly twenty seconds had passed, nevertheless, The Guide held her down firmly. Fully comprehending her need to be "cleansed", she did not struggle. The white cloth she wore billowed underwater, dancing like a large jellyfish swimming casually with its school. Moments later, her eyes opened and three large bubbles escaped from her nose. He released her as she emerged to the surface with a soft splash. The witnesses bowed their heads in silent prayer.The Elder General glanced back at the vacated pyramid of vines before looking up in the direction of the salmon streaked sky. The weather today was tricky, unpredictable, and though clouds were absent, a light rain fell into the Mer Sea. This would not have been strange aside from the fact that it didn't rain on Ido except in the confines of the Rain Caves near the island's central core. Plant life found nourishment from plentiful underground lakes and streams while the various living creatures remained wholly dependant upon the Shine River, which, like a menacing blade, sliced the island in half.There was something about the baptism, or Wave's ambiance that made Dame's otherwise machismo demeanor more subdued. He struggled to shield his eyes from the splatter of seawater as another believer plunged below the pristine waters. His eyes itched and burned as he slowly licked the salt from his lips. He turned his head and waded a short distance away from the shallow pool he and the other Elders were standing in, allowing his eyes to rest a bit as his lungs filled with fresh air.The seriousness of yesterday's decision weighed heavily on his heart and mind. Fairness had always been a priority since he'd assumed the responsibility of General of the male Youth while at Nu and head of the Elder Clan since crossing into the Enlightened Lands after Taste. He recalled how ferocious his spirit had once been. Quick to anger and slow to compromise, he'd earned respect more out of bullying than anything else. Dame was as impulsive as he was intimidating and standing at nearly seven feet, many joked that his massive biceps and muscular torso had been sculpted from the solid rock of Triple Peak in the Western territories.Shamefully, he recalled how he'd enjoyed Taste twenty years before. Extremely attractive and gifted with charm, it had been easy for him to over indulge in the activities of the flesh for a large portion of his life. Not to mention, securing Imar, the most beautiful Ido woman at the time as his preferred partner had been the ultimate final frontier. Their union bore a daughter they named Onya who was as strong-willed as she was beautiful. He couldn't complain, however; she'd gotten the traits earnestly. He remembered her birth vividly. She'd entered the world fin first and swishing, a fighter from the start. He wondered what she was thinking after yesterday's jarring events. She could not have been happy. He'd seen the white flames of rebellion in her eyes after the interruption and his short speech. But surely she would see and accept The One Faith once she was exposed to The Guide, he was sure of it.The stranger had appeared suddenly and without warning one day. Had he not been accompanied by Ankh, the leader of the Sphinx healers and longtime Elder ally, they may have been more skeptical. Speculation regarding his identity was immediate. It was apparent that he was not a member of the Ido clan or The Painted Folk, though he walked upright and held other human-like characteristics. The intrigue surrounding his origins along with the habit of covering himself from head to toe heightened their curiosities. Some suspected he was a leper. Others thought him to be an albino or a diseased outcast from another realm. Soon they began to address him as The Guide, a deformed messenger from another land who could perform faith based miracles in front of their very eyes.Though forms of sorcery and magic were common on the island, only the seldom seen Djinn and Mer Ancestors held the ability to conjure in its purest form; even the infinitely wise and immortal Painted Folk were held to certain limitations. The Ido themselves were given the gift of transformation during certain intervals of their lives. However, their ability to shape shift was beyond their control, occurring only at three specific intervals; first in the womb, then at age seven, and finally upon death. The Guide referred to his own abilities as miracles gifted him by an entity he called The One, an omnipresent God with a distinct wrath far greater than their Ancestors and an affinity for love spanning the length of the horizon.The Guide's message had penetrated Dame's own hollow shell like a poison arrow piercing the heart of a worthy adversary and there was no turning back. Change is good, necessary, he told himself fervently. After witnessing the sheer power of the stranger along with his message, the Elders were convinced of the need for change. The final decision to abolish Taste, he was certain, had been the correct one. Still he wondered about the backlash. Would the Youth resist? Surely they would. How much time would pass before they took action? Should the Elder Army strike first? It would be an unorthodox move, yet a necessary one in order to ensure the spread of the Faith. They would all believe in the end.He turned once more toward the gathering. The Guide was now opening the tattered scroll he'd conjured from a handful of glittering sand. He read slowly as he held it up to the light, ensuring his audience’s comprehension of the sacred text. His voice shook with force and authority, yet somehow managed to lack intimidation. He was easy to listen to and even easier to trust. There had been a quiet confidence about him that Dame had respected since his arrival. He wasn't an overly assertive man, but the strength of his beliefs made him appear larger than life. The message he brought included the importance of moral discipline and the weakness of the flesh. The assembled believers hung on his every word until the last left his lips as he ushered the next devotee into the quiet waters. A massive wave of guilt flooded Dame as he listened from a distance. He was happy for the newfound hope and possibility of forgiveness brought to him by this man. Still unaccustomed to their new permission to show emotion, he swallowed his tears, inhaled deeply, pulled back his massive shoulders, and stood tall. Weeks ago, he'd been living in darkness, oblivious to the damning consequences of his desires and the traditions of his people. Now, he had been given the gift of eternal life, beyond Enlightenment and the confinements of Taste.Out of the corner of his eye he spied a lurking shadow. Just as he'd expected, the Ancestors were joining the gathering. Swimming toward him was Born, leader of the Mer. Half men/women, half fish, the Mer were deceased Ido who'd passed through Taste, The Enlightened Lands, and the Afterlife. The Mer represented the cyclical existence of the Ido people. Everyone was born Mer before their human transformation and would become Mer again in the Afterlife."Is this he? Is this the man they call, The Guide?" asked Born in a thunderous voice as he drifted nearer."It is," Dame replied simply, deliberately avoiding the old Mer's eyes. Born was everything The Guide was not: direct, domineering, and brutally frank. The Ancestors rarely spoke to the living except in the most urgent of situations. Having traveled beyond the boundaries of death, their powers were beyond limitation. Though they rarely exercised the right, an Ancestor could very well dispose of a life without explanation or consequence."I see it did not take much for you to turn your back on the ancient customs that were in place before your Ancestors' Ancestors inhabited these lands." He paused as if trying to choose his words carefully. "Tell me, what kind of leader leads his people away from the fabric of tradition and into the clutches of foreign ways? What kind of leader leads his people into an existence of thoughtless sheep?" he hissed in his ear. "Think!"Slowly, Dame turned to face him with narrowed defiant eyes. The old Mer's broad chest rose and fell rapidly. A thick, white mustache and beard framed a thin line of a mouth, bitter with disappointment, broken as if betrayed. The bushy white eyebrows arced in a menacing frown while his baldhead glistened with a slick finish. His skin was the color of cocoa butter and a gleaming blue-black fin of intricate scales where legs should have been bobbed freely in the clear afternoon waters. Close behind him, Dame saw more Ancestors surfacing, observing the confrontation with curiosity; many were lowering their heads as if shamed."I was voted leader of the Elder Clan for a reason," he replied with a defiant sneer. "Therefore, I was charged with the duty of leading my people where I see fit. We have long been slaves to traditions and customs that have begun to stagnate our kind. Our traditions are perverse, twisted! Change is necessary. The One Faith teaches restraint, The One Faith teaches love--"Born spat angrily and folded his arms across his chest, interrupting. "You fool. For all of your physical strengths, for all of your military genius, you have no reason. You are your traditions! A people must not be separated from their culture unless they wish to die! Mental Endurance. Enlightenment. Respect. These are the pillars of Ido tradition. They are rock solid ideals built for and maintained by the Ido people!" he exclaimed through flared nostrils. "Love is not solid. It can be bent and broken. It can crumble over time. Love cannot be restrained! There is nothing more unbridled or needy; nothing more lacking in discipline than love! With love there is emotion. With emotion there is weakness. We have survived for millennia because we respect one another. Respect cannot be shaped and molded into what we want it to be. It is rigid and defined. It is unchanging!" he paused for a moment and glanced at The Guide who was submerging yet another believer into the Mer Sea, then the old Mer's gaze swung back to Dame."Look at this!" Born exclaimed, teeth clenched tightly as he shoved an index finger in the air. "Rain! Rain on Ido? The balance is off... unnatural!"In spite of the intimidating rant, Dame stood his ground. He looked up in the direction of Born's angry finger, shaking with rage. "It is symbolic of the change we need---""Change is only necessary when stagnation has set in," Born cut in, his tone of voice strangely calm. "The Ido are a vibrant folk General, hardly stagnant and lost and perverted and... twisted. Do not dilute your people with the foreign faith of a stranger who has yet to prove the worth of his words."Before Dame could dignify his remarks with a reply, Born descended into the deep with a flip of his massive fin with the others following quickly behind. Having already been warned of what the Ancestors may say; he pushed Born's accusations to a remote area in the back of his mind. Somehow he felt his instincts had been correct. Slowly, he waded back to the ceremony just as it was signaled that his time had come. He waded toward the slim figure radiating all that was love and light and spiritually prepared himself for what he'd been convinced was right. With a snap of The Guide's long, bony fingers, the light rain sprinkling from above ceased. He held Dame firmly around the waist while he crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes.Soon, Dame thought, I will be cleansed of all wrongdoing. Change is necessary.
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