HIEROPHANTS # 1

SOUL OF CITIES: CHAPTER 1

BY RA'CHAUN ROGERS

10/04/07

Page one

Panel 1: tight on a masked figure sitting down we can't see his face, we're behind the figure, and they’re wearing what appears to be a long shroud. This is a close shot at a high angle.

1 caption: I sometimes get into feeling sorry for myself, how easy it is to make myself the victim

2 Caption: About what you ask? The plight of my people my families expectations, my relationship well usually the last thing but sometimes the others. Sometimes all three

Panel 2: close up on a book the person seems to be writing in, we can't see a hand only a pen. This is a slight high angle.

3 Caption:  everyone has these problems or variations of them, right? So why should I be feeling sorry for myself 

            4 Caption: well for one it's human nature

Panel 3: wide shot, birds eye view. We see the figure sitting on a rooftop, below we see a large mass of people crowding around police cars, and this shot really should display how grandiose the city is.

5 Caption: because when I get depressed, I lose track of time and when I lose track of anything people suffer.

Panel 4: insertion panel of the Geist’s eyes.

No copy

Panel 5: extreme wide shot of the street below. There are people spread out like ants in front of police barricades while cop cars line the end of the street.

Page two

Panel 1: Birds eyeshot the figure leaps off of the roof, the book seems to have disappeared, his shroud flying up. We can see the figures long dread locks going every which way.  This is a foreground shot with the background, which is the street below is blurred.

1 caption: about a month ago police stopped a young male up here, something about him fitting the description. Which I’m assuming is young male black anywhere from 5'1 to 7'0 and about 90 to 250 pounds. Additional features include pants a shirt and hair anywhere from bald to dreaded. Do rags and fitted caps optional.

2 caption: anyway the kid has some weed on him gets scared and takes off, and of course subduing a suspect and fatally wounding him are one in the same so, the cops take action. Add that up to all the police beatings and the gentrification of Far South that followed; throw in the fact that during the summer black folks get disgruntled and presto instant riot.

Panel 2: the police are pushing people back, some barricades have been placed up and there are a couple of police cars flashing lights, the cops are facing us but we can see the backs of the crowd. It's important to note that most of the cops on the inside are black with white cops sprinkled on the outside. This is a full shot seen from an angle level with the horizon.

            3-crowd member #1: murderers

            4-crowd member #2: fucking pigs

            5 black cop #1: calm down folks

Panel 3: focus on a crowd member a male about late 20's we see his back he's facing a black police officer, named roger drake. Here Roger’s attempting to calm down the crowd making slow gestures. This is a low angle medium shot

6 roger: Darren what are you doing here, your mother will be worried sick. 

7 Darren: fuck you sell out ass nigga. Don’t act like you know me.

Panel 4: this is a close up on. Roger he's pained by this response and we see it on his face. This will appear later and be a constant theme in his head.

            8 Roger:  I do know you we went to school together. 

Page three:

Panel 1: Another black officer, Derrick Thomas comes up to Roger, noticing the expression on his face he attempts to comfort him.

            1 Derrick: Hey man don't let these no goods get you down, we ain't sell outs we're just trying to do our part for society.

            2 Roger: yeah man, you're right.

Panel 2: this is a Mid- shot; two police officers are talking.

            3 Officer #1: ...yeah it started with some kid talking shit to one of our boys, when the cop got in his face, he attempted to attack and the cop defended himself, as the kid was being arrested a crowd formed, but not like they always do, these folks seemed more angry than scared.

            4 Officer #2: when are these people gonna learn that times are changing, with the yuppie kids moving in, and all this eminent domain stuff. I mean why resist change?

Panel 3: same shot, the second officer is smirking, But behind them we see the shadow of something large and fast approaching on top of the cop car.

5 officer #1: So whada ya thinks gonna happen here ta night, think we might have to start bustin' heads

6 officer#2: I dunno, but it don't matter to me either way, folks gotta show some respect for the badge and if we gotta be the ones to show' em then who are we to argue?

Page four

Panel 1: splash page. Takes up the whole of the page. The young man in the mask we saw on the roof earlier has just made his decent right onto the cop car, two officers were standing near, it buckles and the windows blow out. The two cops hit the deck make this as grand an entrance as possible.

            7 sfx: booooooomm

            8 officer #1: oh shit!

            9 officer #2: what the fuck!

Page five

Panel 1: the cops and crowd look stunned this is a shot medium of derrick and roger turning around, the looks on their faces says, “oh shit”. Some people in the crowd are awe struck others still angered others scared a few are smiling.

            1 roger: oh my god

            2 derrick: what the hell

            3 leon : he's here. The geist is here.

             4 darren: ya'll niggas done fucked up now.

Panel 2: takes up the rest of the page. Big establishing shot of the geist our hero aka marcus ripley. His locks flow in the wind while dust swirls up from behind and around him, his shroud flutters majestically. His costume is a red and black jumpsuit, on the elbows and knees are red lines. His long shroud is black on the outside and red on the inside. His gloves had red lines on the fingers and his boots have a red toe. A symbol that looks like an oroburos is emblazoned on his chest; we can see it through his open shroud. The mask he wears looks like it's molded to his face it's not but its mystical properties make it seem that way, it's black with red strips pointing inward but never meeting. His eyes appear to glow.

            5 geist: haven't been to Far South in a while, looks like it's getting the Mongrave treatment too huh?

Page six

Panel 1: we're seeing roger and derrick still a bit shocked reaching for their guns, geist is in the middle of them and the cops on the other side. This is a full-shot in the middle of the panel should be the geist standing in the rubble of the cop car.

1 derrick: stay the fuck back you nut. We don't need your help.

2 roger: yeah, stay where you are

Panel 2: close on the geist looking a bit amused. Raising his arm under his shroud, it should start to move.

3 geist: i don’t recognize your authority. I only recognize the will of the people.

Panel 3: we're seeing the crowd cheer, now knowing that he's here for them. This is a wide, meduim shot so we’re seeing the rows of the crowd from the waist up.

4 crowd: yeah show those pigs, kick they assess, sell out nigga's

Panel 4: we see a teenager leon close on. He's yelling angry, wanting justice.this is a close up of him, just give me head and shoulders

            5 leon: do to those pigs what they did to my brother.

Panel 5:  the cops point their guns at the geist. We're facing roger and derrick now they're pointing their guns up toward us. This is a medium shot at a high angle.

6 derrick: y-you're under arrest for vigilantism and destruction of police property as well as reckless endangerment.

Page seven

Panel 1: the geist does a somersault into the air; the cops get scared and begin firing. At him. The bullets blaze past him.

            1 derrick: fire!

            2 geist: is this the same amount of excessive force you used aganist kenny maxwell last month?

3 geist: cause if it is then someone should call a civil rights activist…

Panel 2: the geist lands right in front of a white officer disarming him by grabbing his gun and smacking him across the face.

            4 officer: unffffff!

            5 geist: i'll take that.

Panel 3: we're behind an officer now so it’s partially from his pov but we can see the back and side of him in the foreground and in the background we see the geist is using his warping ability. It seems to leave after images. The officer is firing at the after images

            6 officer: oh my god, oh my god.

            7 sfx: wommmmm

Panel 4: the geist’s swings his shroud at the cop making the weapon disappear. This should be a two shot and a fairly close up one.

            8 geist: yahhh!

            9 officer: gasp.!

Panel 5: the officer is unharmed but the geist follows up with an elbow to the face knocking the officer out.

            9 the geist: sit down

            10 officer: arghhh

Panel 6: we're looking from rogers point of view derrick is beside him shooting, he's watching the geist take the police apart. With speed and grace. He is kicking one in the face and punching another in the head.

11 derrick: damn it we don't need this shit i don't need this shit.

Page eight

Panel1: geist filps up in the air ready to pounce on derrick and roger. They're looking up so this is from their pov at a low angle but we can see them.

                        1 roger: gasp!

                        2 derrick : oh shit.

Panel 2: the geist kicks derrick in the face planting him in the ground. Roger is still stunned, we can see the geist's face. He loves it. This is a low angle shot we’re over rogers shoulder. 

                        3 geist : allie oop

                        4: derrick : argghh

Panel 3: two shot of the geist and roger. Roger’s pointing his gun at the geist. The geist is smiling an invicble smile. If you can imagine a look that says “what’s a gun going to do to me” then please draw it.  This is a foreground shot.

            5 roger: stay back man you're under arrest.

            6 geist: oh please. Put the gun down.

Panel 4: we see a similar shot but this time the crowd is in it. They're cheering the geist on. Roger is still holding the gun. Leon's up in front.

7 roger: get on the ground man or i’ll be forced to shoot you.

8 geist: if you we're gonna shot me you'd have done it already.

            9 leon: roast that pig.

            10 darren: yeah kill that uncle tom ass nigga.

Panel 5: roger is looking back at the crowd he knows he's out numbered he looks distrested. The geist is approaching him fast. This is a full shot we’re seeing ruined scene in the back ground.

11 geist: look you're hearts obviously not completely in  this cop thing. There are some many other postive things you could be doing. So why not put the gun down and leave before the crowd get's in on my act, and i don't think they'll stop until you're dead. 

Page nine  

Panel 1: full page shot; we're seeing the geist, holding roger by his collar and the crowd so this is a pull back so you can get all of them. The geist looks really confident in this picture he's looking at the crowd and points at the police from under his shroud.

1 geist: i'm here to let you folks know that you're now under the protection of the geist. If you'd like to be, i’m here to defend this city. Remember to keep your communities close; the more we work with each other the stronger we become. 

Page ten

Panel1: the geist walks away from the crowd and roger. His back is to us and so is rogers. This is a full shot of the both of them. It’s back round centric

            1 geist: you're not cut out for this cop stuff officer drake

            2 roger: how did you?

3 geist: i read your badge.

Panel 2: the geist holds leaps into the air and the space around him is bending. Below we see the crowd and roger looking up at him in amazement. Below t.v. crews and van's come into veiw.  This is a low angle.

            4 geist: peace people. 

Panel 3: we see a worms eye view of leon looking up at the geist making his exit. Note this because leon will return.

Panel 4 : tight on the geist in the air we are looking at him from the front this is kind of an establishing shot. He's coming up at us, behind him is the Acacia skyline.

            5 geist caption: next stop Mongrave to get some sleep.

Panel 5: mid shot the geist is falling from the sky on to an old apartment building in Mongrave. It looks odd beside condos; there is one window slightly open. The building is about 4 floors high could be in bushwick or bedstuy.

Panel 6: the geist leaps into the window. It's dark and there's nothing to tell us what's in the room.

            1 female voice: took you long enough.

            2 geist: sorry babe, had to stop a riot.

Page eleven

Panel 1: full page. The light flicks on we see a voluptious young black woman with thick lips, named Téa with her locks tied in a ponytail. She's wearing a close fitting night gown, that's having a hard time not ridding up her ample butt. Her gown is slightly open exposing her cleavge which is about as close to a d cup as a c cup can get. She's wearing green slippers and a look that says “i should kick your ass for making me wait.” And she could too. We're seeing a two shot of them and the geist now marcus ripley is taking off his mask and putting the note book from earlier which is his journal down on the a table in the living area. Next to the table is a couch across from that is a tv. And so on you know the usual crap.

            1 Téa: sorry doesn't stop me from worrying. Or allow me to go to sleep.

2 marcus: you knew that when i inherited the title of the geist i’d have to protect the city. And that comes with a lot of risk.

Page twelve:

Panel 1: two shot of marcus and Téa, she's still upset. Marcus costume seems to be rising off of him like dust. 

1 Téa: is it worth you dying? Or getting found out and getting locked up? All of the drug dealers you put away, they'd kill you in jail.

2 marcus: relax i'm too fast and agile to get shot and the dealers shoot worse than cops, plus they're all scared of me.

Panel 2: close on marcus getting hit with a slipper. While putting on a t-shirt

            3 Téa from off: dodge this then

            4 marcus: owww no fair i wasn't ready.

Panel 3: close on Téa more worried than angry now.

5 Téa: that's what i'm talking about, what if you're not ready, the next time some cop starts firing or some dealer get's scared and starts lickin' shots?

Panel 4: close on marcus taking off his pan'ts,

6 marcus: not gonna happen babe, i'm trained too well and       well             you know about my gifts.

            7 Téa from off: don't they come with the mask, what if some                                     one sTéals it then what?

8 marcus: doesn't work that way, it's just a conduit. It only             helps me access the powers more easily. Plus my shroud absorbs bullets, so i'm good. 

Panel 5: two shot of marcus and Téa, Téa is touching a wound on his ribs and he's flinching.

            9 Téa: oh yeah, what about this?

            10 marcus: ouch! That's just a scracth.

            11 Téa: but what happens when it's more than just a scratch                            what happens when it's a hole?

Panel 5: marcus kissing Téa passionetly, her arms are wrapped around his neck, his are around her waist, she’s an inch taller than he is, him being 5'7 and her being 5'8.

12 marcus: could we not worry about that now. Let's just worry about us. Mmmmmm

            13 Téa: i am baby i am. Mmmm.

Page thirteen  

Panel 1 we're outside a bedrom, a dim light comes from inside it

            1 caption : later that night

            2 Téa from off: right there baby, yesssss

            3 marcus: hold on let me... Yeahhhh

            4 Téa: ohmmmmmm

Panel 2:we're seeing Téa and macus between the sheet's doing their thing, marcus is on top. This could just be silhouettes

            5 marcus: uhhhhh

            6 Téa: ummmm.

            7 marcus: baby i'm ...

            8 Téa: just uh, hold on, um a little bit, longer

Panel 3: marcus is thrusting into Téa although peneteration is covered by sheets. Both eyes closed.

            9 marcus: hmmmmm

            10 Téa: faster baby, i'm almost there.

Panel 4 money shot so to speak, both people releasing in unison, Téa is biting her lip and clawing his back, marcus is thrusting into her hard, mouth agape.

            11 Téa: yess baby... Ohhh,

            12 marcus: uhhhhhhh.

Panel 5 after glow shot we're seeing Téa lying next to marcus both smiling, this is a close birds eye veiw.  The moon light is peaking out of the corner of the panel marcus' eyes are closed

13 Téa: so explain to me again how the geist energy needs to be released through sex.

14 marcus: it doesn't actually have to be sex, but we'll it's all apart of these sacred pricipals between the masculine and feminine energies…why? Would you rather we didn't have sex?

            15 Téa: i didn't say that i'm just asking.

            16 marcus: ok, well good night

            17 Téa: should'a saw that coming. Sigh. Good night.

Page fourteen

Panel 1: we are seeing an apartment buildin, a window on the 4th floor, the illumination coming from a window cast the siluohette of a young man. This is the aparment of leon and his mother esther, her son kenny was killed a month ago.

            1 from inside esther: leon don't you have to be to bed.

            2 leon : i'm going to in a second ma.

Panel 2: we're in a room from the windows point of view looking in, we see leon looking at a news paper article, with the head lines, the geist: vigilante menace or hero. Leon is seated at a desk and other clippings related to the geist and police burtallity, are scattered around it. His door is closed. Leon has cornrows, he's wearing a white tee and basketball shorts. He's brown skinned with dark eyes.

3 ester outside the door: not in a second, now! I don't want you late for school.

            4 leon: okay mom.

            panel 3: same shot execpt now leon is looking annoyed.

5 ester: and i won't be able to take you to practice tomrrow, i've got a church meeting.

            6 leon: yeah, ok mom i'll walk

Panel 4: close up on the geist article from the “ Acacia chronicle”, it should list how he's cleaned up neighborhoods full of drug dealers and gangs, but is now taking on cops and maybe linked in the crane incidents at two constuction sites and is now labeled a menace by some and a hero by others. The article should list marcus ripley as the writer.  

Panel 5: now we see leon get up and stand in front of his closet.  This is a side veiw so we see both the closet and leon.

            5 esther off: i'm going to bed. G'night baby.

Panel 6: we see leon open his closet half way to reveal what appears to be a jacket it has a green oroburos on it, next to it is a baseball bat. It's painted black. He's staring at both intently. Same shot.

            6 ester: i said goodnight baby!

            7 leon: goodnight mom.

Page fifteen

Panel 1: we see a birds eye veiw of roger drake, in the police man's locker room. There are different groups of cops talking. White cops, some black cops, hispanic cops and a few asians.

1 white cop # 1: ... Heard you guys had a run in with the geist. How'd that go down?

2 white cop # 2: yeah, sonofabitch, attacked us. He does all this fucking acrobat shit. Man i'd like to get that motherfucker alone with out all that shit.

Panel 2: we're seeing a side view of roger now closing his locker behind it is derrick . Roger looks sad still thinking about the comments directed at him by the crowd. This is a mid-shot

3 derrick : hey man, what's up? You look like somethings eating you.

            4 roger: that situation today. That crowd, they hated us man. They             really hated us.

5 derrick : look man, let me tell you something we perform a service, we protect them from themselves. I mean come on they're just jealous, crabs in a barrel man.

Panel 3: we see the two white police officers looking at roger and derrick who are off screen, they both have “ what the fuck” looks on their faces.

6 from off roger: from themselves? You sound like you didn't grow up on that same street. The very street we used to run.

7 from off derrick : hey man we didn't do what they do on the streets, we hung out man we had fun.

8 from off roger: and now the hanging out we used to do, is now a crime. Hell it was damn near a crime back then.

Panel 4: birds eye view. We see the white cops walk toward, roger and derrick , the locker room is clearing out. Both cops o'brian and siglino are in civilian clothes, so are roger and derrick .

9 o'brian: what's all this i hear? Sounds like you don't wanna be an officer anymore.

10 siglino: yeah this badge is a brotherhood, if you're not with us then...

Panel 4: were seeing a shot of derrick standing in front of roger, putting his hands up in a calming gesture. Roger is in the background, he looks slightly angered.

            11 derrick : hold on guys , let's not jump toconclusions  here, roger's just concerned.

12 from off o'brain: concerned, for who? You should be concerned for us. The people who watch your back everyday, your brothers in arms. Not some gang banging, drug dealing, shiftless...

13: derrick : now hold on o'brian, there's no need for all that.

Panel 5: close. O'brian is pointing at roger who is trying to move beyond derrick , they're sqauring off. Siglino, is behind o'brian holding him back. Both roger and o'brain both look mad.

14 o'brian: yeah there is, i wanna known that when i'm out here on the streets dealing with the scum, i can count on you people to watch my back.

            15 roger: you people, what the fuck does that mean?

            16 siglino: hey o'brain man maybe it's time that we go?

            17: derrick : calm down rog, we're all on the same side.

Panel 6: o'brian and siglino are walking out of the locker room, their backs are too us. We're seeing derrick and roger still in the same spot. Roger is looking angerliy at derrick .

            18 o'brian: yeah it is.

19 derrick : roger what's gotten into you man, you're gonna let some rowdy black folk and a crazed vigilante make you forget that we're all on the same side?

20 roger: you know what, i'm not so sure what side i'm on anymore.

            21 derrick : don't talk like that man.

22 roger: and you know what, i can see why our people hate us.

Page seventeen

Panel 1: this is an establishing shot of the “Acacia chronicle” news paper building during the day. We're focusing on the tenth floor.

1 from in curry: i don't know how in the hell you do it but you get the best coverage of urban affairs i've ever seen.

            2 from in marcus: thanks sir, i try.

Panel 2: were seeing the inside of an office building, it's actually a publication office. Various people are moving around, think daily bugle or daily planet set up. If you need some refrence i'll send it. I want the focus to be on a frosted glass door that reads editor-in-chief. On it below that should be the name albert h. Curry.

3 from in curry: you succeed, you've got a real handle on this especially on issues related to the geist.

4 from in marcus: well sir i'm a natuarl i guess, i mean my dad did it so...

Panel 3:we’re seeing marcus' back it's obscuring us from curry, he's sitting down at a desk. From what we can see of the office there are two metal cabinets lining the walls, there is a coat rack on curry's right side and a bookshelf on his left.

5 curry: this is the second gathering of people since the shooting last month, if it keeps going like this we may have a riot on our hands, and excuse me if i say that'll sell papers.

6: marcus: uh... Yeah of course, at the expense of other people. Which is wrong.

Panel 4: we're now seeing a close shot of curry he looks like he's being accused of something, he's nervous looking. Curry is a middle aged  man with pink skin, he has no hair in the middle of his head and hair on the sides, he's got hairy arms and wear's a gold watch, his nose is hawkish but not too long.  He’s actually not a bad guy.

7 curry: n-n-now, i don't buy these papers and i don't know    why people like seeing violence, wars over seas, riots and the like, i don't tell people to buy them i just sell them.

Panel 5: marcus is looking annoyed, or more of a “are you fucking kidding me” look his arms are now folded. This is a close up of him.

            8 marcus: yeah i know. So what is it you'd like me to do?

Panel 6: two shot of marcus and curry. Marus is standing over the sitting curry. Curry's smiling nervously marcus is looking down indifferently.

9 curry: to keep up the good work, that's all, maybe to stick with             this geist angle people love this nut.

10 marcus: oh sure thanks. And i've got an idea for a new piece called “vigilance”, it'll be geared towards the geist and any other possible vigilantie activity that may go on. I was wondering if the chronicle could back it.

11 curry: sounds great, type me up a pitch and we can work, with it.

Page eighteen

Panel 1: we're seeing a full page shot of marcus, we're seeing him from the front, he's on the phone with his grandfather, he's smiling. We see the oroburos symbol of the geist in his shadow. If you could make it so his shadow is just a black shadow, which has the symbol in it that'd be great. Marcus is wearing a small gray collared shirt with fitting beige slacks and our favorite sketchers. His dreadlocks are turnicated in a ponytail by a gray bandana.

1 hannibal from phone: you did some great work last night, a lot more folks are taking notice.

            2 marcus: see i told you that doing self-publicity would   help; our people watch the news and read the papers.

3 hannibal from phone: yeah well just make sure you don't give yourself away, you're way too important to be caught.

4 marcus: yeah i know, granddad look i'm going to pick Téa up from work i'll call you later.

            5 hannibal: tell that cutie of yours i said hi. 

            6 marcus: will do granddad later.

Page nineteen

Panel 1: we see marcus walking down the street past various people, it doesn't matter what they look like they could be tourists or whatever he's in manhattan so put a bunch of hipsters in there if you need reference for hipsters i'll send you it. Close on.

            1 marcus caption: and now for the best part of my day.

Panel 2: we see marcus, standing in front of a book store named “bookjacket”. Which is painted on the glass on the front door it's basically a barnes and noble. Téa works here as an assistant manager.  He's looking at his phone for the time. Close on.

            2 marcus caption: it’s 5 o'clock she should be done by now.

Panel 3: we see marcus walking in to the store, he's facing us. Walking at a casual pace the black security guard who is noticabaly bigger than him keeps a watchful eye. Marcus notices this but pays no mind. There are yuppies and hipsters moving about a good deal are looking at marcus. This should take up the bottom of the page. 

3 marcus caption: don't worry i'm not gonna try to engage you in front of your masters.

Page twenty

Panel 1: Téa is facing us, in front of here we see kevin a hipster who works at the store, he's dressed in your run of the mill cigarette jeans. Skinny jeans for those who don't know with a run of the mill tight black t-shirt with a band on the front. Lets have it say pretense. Téa is looking as beautiful as ever her hair is nice and natural, done up in a head rap. She's wearing a burgandy tank top and a black skirt with white spots, as well as a pair of leather sandals. Kevin's obviously trying to holla at Téa the way white boys do, to black girls they think are vulnerable to their charms.

1 kevin: so what are you gonna do when you get off? Cause i was thinking of going to that new resturant that just opened up in Mongrave with some friends.

2 Téa: well my boyfriend marcus is coming to pick me up, and we were going to “sankofa” when we get back into Mongrave.

3 kevin: oh that's where we're going, how'd you learn about it?

            4 Téa: oh my boyfriends family owns the place.

Panel 2: we're seeing marcus walk up the stairs from Téa's pov. We can see the back of her and kevins back to the side of her again Téa is well endowed back there so make it show, this should be a background shot.

            5 Téa: there he is. There's my man.

            6 kevin: oh.

Panel 3: Téa is practiclly leaping into marcus' arms they could be kissing or just hugging the force with which she's jumping on him almost knocks him over. This shot should really show how much Téa loves marcus and how much marcus loves Téa in turn. Kevin is in the background looking jealous and a bit angery.

            7 Téa: babyyyy!  

            8 marcus: whoa, hey hun.

Panel 4: this should be a three shot of marcus, Téa and kevin. Téa is smiling ear to ear, and marcus has an uncontrollable grin, kevin is smiling too but its kind of sardonic grin.

9 Téa: i'll see you tomorrow kevin, unless you'd like to come with             us.

10 marcus: yeah i mean you can if you like being the third wheel and all. Heh     

            11 kevin: nah i'm gonna wait for my friends to give me a call,             maybe i'll see you two there tonight.

Panel 5: marcus and Téa are walking away, marcus' arm is around Téa's waist and their walking close together she's kissing him on the cheek, in the back we see keving walk off.

12 marcus: was that the one you were talking about, the reason you wanted me to come down here and pick you up.

13 Téa: shhh. Not so loud. And yes that is, he's always trying to ask me out, i've shut him down like ten times, now can we go? I haven't eaten since 1 o'clock

14 marcus: so all that affection was to ward away some white boy             who has a crush on you?

15 Téa: if all the work i put in last night wasn't enough of a show of affection baby i'm not sure what is.

            16 marcus: i'm Téasing you relax. Let’s get going.

Page twenty-one 

Panel 1: we're seeing a mid shot from the sky a big resturant with the words “sankofa” on the awning. It's Mongrave but slowly genetrifiying Mongrave, so i wanna see brothas and sistas walking around the place along with those yuppy hispter white folks who are trying to sTéal culture. All sorts of people are walking into sankofa.

1 from inside hannibal: so glad you two could make it, you all order anything you like.

            2 from inside Téa: thank you mr. Ripley.

Panel 2: we see the interior of the place, beautiful moorish paintings line the walls, paintings of black people from all over, from the kings and queens of kemet to saint maurice of germany. There are pictures of james brown, jimi hendrix, billie holiday, you name it. This is a kind of wide panel so it should take up the page end to end. But not the whole page itself; marcus and Téa are sitting down at a table in front of the bar. At the bar various people sit down doesn't matter what they look like. Note that at the top corner of the bar there is a tv. The bartender is a bald black guy whose assistant is a caramel skinned sista with wild light brown hair. In front of Téa and marcus stands a stout muscular black man with a salt and pepper fro, and a mustache he should resmble marcus and he's smiling. This is hannibal ripley marcus' grandfather and former protector of the city. Both Téa and marcus are looking away from us and at him.

3 hannibal: call me grandpa, dear. I hope you're treating my grand son right. Heh

            4 Téa: don't worry i am. Right honey?

            5 marcus: yes granddad she really is.

Panel 3: close on hannibal his smile widens, in this shot we can see that though he's short he's quite muscular, like a little battle tank.

6 hannibal: that's what i like to hear, our men and women need to get back to loving and taking care of eachother. That's the only             way for us to survive.

Panel 4: hannibal is walking away and Téa and marcus are looking at each other, Téa is grining, marcus his resting chin on the heel of his palm, admiring her. This is another mid shot the news is now on.

            7 hannibal: oh and nice work last night.

            10 marcus: thanks grandad.          

            9 Téa: he's nice. I think he likes me.

            10 marcus: he'd have to, cause i do.

11 Téa: i never know what to think when you look at me like that.

Panel 5: same shot.

            12marcus: yes you do.

            13 Téa: oh yeah and what's that?

            14 marcus: that i love you.

Page twenty-two

Panel 1: similar shot except that this time marcus is sitting up looking sincere, Téa is sitting up looking a bit stunned and not a little breath taken. Romantic shot. Show the glare from the t.v.

            1 Téa: you say it like you’ll never see me again

2 marcus: i don’t mean to, but sometimes i don’t feel like i tell you enough

            3 Téa: oh marcus, i-...

4 from tv: this footage is being streamed live from someones camera phone.

Panel 2: close on the t.v. screen we see blurry picture of what appears to be the geist fighting off a group of thugs. Don't be too discriptive we don't need colors just show that he's in all black.

5 from t.v male annoucer: it appears that the vigilantie the geist is attacking gang members up in Far South. This is the second night in a row, the geist whose normal stomping grounds are Mongrave has ventured north, but with the recent police activities i suppose it makes sense.

6 from t.v. female annoucer: guess he got enough money to take the 2 trains huh mike.

            7 from t.v. male annoucer: i guess so jen.

Panel 3: this is a mid shot. Hannibal is standing in front of the bar, i want you to draw an afterimage of him looking at marcus and then the t.v.marcus and Téa are facing us, mouth's agape. None of the customers are paying attention they’re all enthralled in the t.v.

            8 hannibal: (whispering) what the hell, who the hell is that?

            9 Téa: (whispering) yeah i mean you're right here

10 marcus: (whispering) i don't know but, i'm gonna have to find out. Excuse me baby.

Panel 4: we're seeing from behind marcus as he's getting up, Téa is standing with him holding his shirt slevee. She looks worried, her eyes are wide. We still see the glow of the t.v.

            11 Téa: (whispering) baby please be careful.

            12: marcus: (whispering) i will honey, i love you, i’ll be back. Wait here please.

Panel 5: marcus is walking out the door, his back is to us we can see  black smoke trailing off of him. We see the other guests still not paying attention, to him. Téa is now standing up we can see her from a back side view she is staring at marcus, her mouth is open as she whispers, hannibal is looking at his grandson. He has his hand on Téa's shoulder.

            13 Téa: (whispering) i love you too.

            14 hannibal: he'll be fine, trust me.

Page twenty three

Panel 1: full page shot, we're seeing all of the patrons staring at the t.v. the scene on it is a street corner, we're seeing a man who appears to be the geist execpt he has cornrows, we don't see his mask or face, but in his hand he has a jet black baseball bat, and on his jacket is a green oroburos. So we now know that this is leon.  In the background are some gang memebers all “brick town boys” who wear orange flags, some are on the floor others are holding guns at, him.

1 : leon as geist: didn't you assholes hear that Far South's now under my protection?, now drop your weapons before someone get's hurt.

                                    © 2009 , Ra’Chaun Rogers.

I recently interviewed Syd Mead, the man who designed the light cycles for Tron, the flying cars for Blade Runner, the ships and vehicles in Aliens, and V'Ger in Star Trek: The Motion Picture.

With over 50 years experience, Syd Mead has made a major contribution to concept art, and our collective vision of what the future looks like.

Read my interview here: Red Moon Chronicle

Dear literary-minded folk,

I hope you are all doing well. Just writing in the interest of shameless plugging. I have a Kickstarter project! It can be found here: http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1329246557/guerilla-fairy-tale-marketing-for-elwin-and-christ?ref=email Me and my fellow genre writer Christine Stoddard are working on a project based on the Ace science fiction double novels from the 1960s and 70s. One half of the book will be hers, the other half mine. We are in negotiations with Six Gallery Press, the publishing firm that produced my first book. Being a small press writer is not easy. There is much that you have to handle yourself, and we've got all sorts of ideas regarding marketing. Being highly independent people, Christine and I are trying to raise a modest $1000 with which to do independent promotion for a May 2012 release.
 
A bit about us:

Writer, performer, and artist Christine Stoddard has won recognition from USA Today, The Poetry Society of Virginia, The National League of Pen Women, The Washington Post, the International Cinematographer's Guild, and many other companies and organizations. Comicality, the magazine she co-edits with artist David Fuchs, appears in the permanent collections of The Glasgow School of Art and Virginia Commonwealth University. Two of her book art projects appear in Virginia Commonwealth University's permanent collection. Furthermore, Christine is the founder of The D.C. Indie Arts Festival and The VCU Reel Dame Film Festival. She is also the founder and executive director of Quail Bell Press and Productions, LLC, which operates Quail Bell Magazine.

Her side of the project is Once Upon a Body, a collection of fairy tale-inspired graphic work dealing with women's body issues. It was her project as a Cyberpunk Apocalypse visiting writer in 2010, and is the culmination of many years of graphic work.

Me? I am the author of The Jack Daniels Sessions EP, a collection of myth-based short stories that has received accolades from notable authors and critics. I have toured the country as a writer and performance artist and sat on literary panels at a number of genre conventions.

The Motley & Plume Players is my first novel-length work. Its foundations lay in a novelette I started writing in 2006, which has since expanded in many different directions. It is a story about love, obsession, memory, regret, the repercussions of words said and unsaid, and the magic of the theater. My good friend Vanessa Strickland is doing illustrations for it, so the spirit of collaboration is high. In this piece I have had the opportunity to further explore my interest in melding the domestic and the fantastic, and I feel it is my finest work.

Did I mention there are donor incentives? My personal favorite is reading the donor a story via Skype. They also include a free copy of my short story collection, the upcoming audiobook, original artwork from Christine and, another favorite, a short story written for YOU.
 
I am very excited for this project, and to have all sorts of launch parties and readings next spring. We are two up-and-coming authors who do things our own way, and any bit helps. Thanks!

Elwin Michael Cotman
Author. Performance artist. Storyteller.
www.lookmanoagent.blogspot.com
The Jack Daniels Sessions EP is out now!

http://www.amazon.com/Jack-Daniels-Sessions-Ep/dp/1926616170/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1295836458&sr=1-1
Facebook group:
http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/group.php?gid=274822316789
 
"The Jack Daniels Sessions EP is revolutionary, riveting and remarkable. Elwin Cotman's prose grabs you from word one, and you don't want it to let you go. This book marks the unveiling of a major new voice in science fiction and fantasy." — Charles R. Saunders, author of Imaro
 
"Cotman has an amazing voice, and his fabulist descriptions are so vividly communicated, they almost lift from the page and become three-dimensional beings that are impossible images to forget."—Savannah Schroll Guz, author of The Famous & The Anonymous
 
"Mr. Cotman’s interests are wide-ranging: Punk rock intersects with D.C.’s Dominican community, African American folktale intersects with Greek myth, Goth teen suburban angst in 1990s Ohio sits side by side with racist atrocity in the pre-Civil Rights South, and magic is going on. Yeah, there’s magic in some of these stories, but the real magic is in Cotman’s words themselves—stark and deadpan one moment, lushly descriptive the next."—Michael S. Begnal, author of Ancestor Worship
 
"In The Jack Daniels Sessions, folktales and modern landscapes collide, exploding and reforming in the form of an intriguing and intelligent collection. Cotman seizes the stories of tired tradition and galvanizes them, setting them to dance for us in wonderful, new interpretations."—Cat Rambo, author of The Surgeon's Tale
 
"Elwin Cotman is one of the most original new voices you will encounter—he is a synthesizer of the domestic and the fantastic, of soaring myth and the grittiest realities, of lewd dialect and high lyricism. His stories are profound engagements with suffering of every stripe—they will also make you hoot with laughter. I was amazed by the force of Mr. Cotman's pinwheeling imagination."—Karen Russell, author of Swamplandia! 
 
"With raw and sometimes shocking authenticity, Cotman turns the ordinary into the sublime. There is no pretension here, just a million-​​watt light shining into corners of the human condition that many people would prefer forgotten, with a large helping of fantastic creatures, classical myth, and modern mayhem."—Erzebet Yellowboy, Cabinet des Fees

Chapter IV: The Way Home

            Scrawl, The Past

                        The black sun hung above his head, only four more days through the Onyx

Desert and he'd be at village of Abiola-Rey, the Inkdwellers there were visited less by the Winterborne because of the climate of the desert. Being born of the winter, their people could not take the direct contact of the black sun's data. The Inkdwellers however have been absorbing its information for as long as Scrawl has been around; they have become the color and hue of the sun they at one time worshipped along with the other aspects of the land. Now the sun domes that were erected by the Winterborne and maintained by their Secondborne children block any high-level information from reaching the people, which is probably why their abilities no longer work. At least that's what Blaq thought to himself, since his birth he'd been passed from person to person, no one could hold on to him for too long for fear of the Second-borne overseers finding him. Darr-Woolf and Black-Phoenyx, had told him that he was the true descendant of the Obsidian Empire and that he had to be kept safe to restore it and Scrawl to its rightful place. He had his doubts about his own lineage, however he did know one thing his existence was bad luck to those around him and everyone who helped him end up dead or exiled. Woolf and Phoenyx were his ideological parents meaning Woolf coded him and Phoenyx housed and birthed him after nine streams. He did have a number of spiritual parents most of whom had died protecting him throughout the years, rather than have his last family slaughtered he ran away, hearing a rumor he traveled north toward Winterborne country; to the very hands of those who wanted his life. The Fourth Wall was said to have existed from time immemorial, supposedly the Mother and Father had created it when everything was nothing and dawns were young, back when G.O.D first created them. That was his chance to escape that is if anything anyone said about the Wall was true, the legends said that the Fourth Wall was a gateway to other worlds. Several stories surrounding the Wall stemmed from the “Fall”, the little remembered war between the Inkdwellers royal families and the capitulation of their remaining power by the Winterborne that resulted in the current decaying state of Scrawl.

In Winterborne territory to the north, vegetation ceased growing and the animals that were herded need to be used as the main source of sustenance, they were processed, In the Winterborne capital city of Eventide. In the western cities of the United Bastions, Data from the Black sun had begun to turn much of the landscape to ash that coupled with the increasing number of Fantoms and Unbound appearing in the area it became less habitable every cycle.

            'If there is one thing that can save our world it's you, but you must get through the Fourth Wall'. Phoenyx used to say, he believed her, which is why he risked life and limb now to travel to this place.

            A loud bang erupted to his left and as he turned to look at the dune there he saw a group of males, Inkdweller males, surrounding a female wrapped in an earth tone shawl.  His head told him to keep moving but his soul said that he had to help, he was not raised to pass by one of his people in need and so he turned and made his way toward the group.

Though he had no weapons to speak of, he possessed a special ability the vast majority of Inkdwellers still lacked.  Sea ran down the basin toward the group and then slid down a steep crevice. “Hey what are you doing to her?”

            The group all looked at him as he came sliding down, they were armed with sharp crystal weapons and a few had Ricochet spheres floating about them. The largest man in the group broke the circle and began to walk towards him. “Leave here boy, it's not safe.” His voice filled with more worry than threat. Behind him the young woman turned to lock eyes with Black- Sea, she regarded him with a seductive smirk, then gestured that he put his hands over his ears and after he did, she screamed. The black sand around her began to kick up into an instant storm the leader of the group turned back toward her and they all charged in unison, Blaq crouched and closed his eyes, with his hands still covering his ears, and he heard or rather felt bodies or at least their parts flying past him. He felt weightless as the storm lifted him from his spot and a few more minutes he passed out. The feeling of warm, dark, bare skin sliding across his own jolted him awake, he looked up to see the young woman from the storm mounting him, she arched her back, licked her lips and ground her nails into the dirt beside him.

            “MMMMM.” She looked down and got off of him. “That’s a nice soul you have, interesting taste to it.

            She sat up and took a drink from a strange gourd to her right; it appeared to Sea that he was in a house or tent of some kind with a very high ceiling. Cool air blew in from the desert night. Black- Sea scrambled up to find himself naked and he instinctively put his back to the farthest wall he could find. “W-who are you?”

            She smiled at him and put the gourd away. “Don't be afraid, I just had to see what kind of man you were.” She stood up and walked toward him. “I am known by many names, most call me Dear Daughter of the Onyx Desert, but you can call me Dee Dee.”

            “Why were you on top of me?” He stood up naked and looked around. “Where are my clothes?”

            “Like I said I was sampling what kind of man you were, don't you know anything?” She walked over to one side of the structure, picked something up out of the darkness and threw it at him. “Here.”

            He caught a handful of clothes, which he realized were his. “Where are we?” He asked as he began to put his things on.

            Dee Dee picked up her shawl and it instantly wrapped itself into a dress around her. “We're in my home, what does it look like.” She then looked him over from where she stood. “You're not from the desert are you?”

            “No, I'm from Anoki-Can in the grassland region, to the south.” He finished dressing.

            “Oh ok, so that's why you don't know who I am, in that case.”  She walked up to him took his hand and led him to another section of the house. “Follow me.”

            He walked reluctantly, into the other room, which had candles all around it, she sat him down on the floor. “I will show you who I Am.” she sat down next to him and began to draw something on the floor. “I am the Daughter of the Desert Goddess Onyx, well the daughter of her descendant to be exact.”

            At his feet she drew the Black sun and the Silver moon in the vast sky, below it she drew a woman standing on top of an ocean on the firmament. “When Scrawl was still young, my mother was born along with the Great Black and Silver eyes, she covered it all. With the permission of the Great Mother and Father she allowed things to be born from her womb, from her came my father Earth Lord, he spewed flame across her surface to make land, and intern life was eventually created.” She finished her drawing. “Or at least that's what I was told by my mother before she left.” She shrugged. “I could never get it completely straight.”

             Sea sat back “That had nothing to do with the desert.” He arched an eyebrow.

            “Well I can't remember it all.” She put her hands on her hips.

            “So why did you tell me the story if you didn't know it?”

            “It's a tradition my mother made me remember it, I only told you because you're not from around here.” She got up. “I personally don't care for tradition, especially since the Winterborne tried to erase our history by destroying the Speaking Crystals and the Talking Tree.”

            “Most Inkdwellers don't know those two things existed at one time, I almost didn't believe it myself.”

            “So how did you know about them?”

            “My parents Darr-Woolf and Phoenyx-Blac told me about them.” He looked down.

            She stared at him, with a knowing gaze, trying to recall something told to her as a child but unable to quite remember. “I'm sorry to hear that.”

            “Where are your parents, you said your mother left, where did she go?”  Sea ran his fingers through his hair nervously.

 “To pass on, when a daughter of the desert comes of age the daughter before her must travel out into the mouth of the desert and meet with the Goddess again.” Dee Dee looked down.

            “Oh, and what about your father, where is he?”

            Dee Dee looked down, at her hands. “He’s dead, remember the big guy in the desert, the leader of those men.” She looked out an open window into the night. “That was him.”

            “You killed your own father?”  Sea backed up from her. “Why?”

            “Well for starters he would have killed me.” She then looked at him. “But the real reason is because he blames me for my mother’s sacrifice.”

            Blaq looked down on the ground. “Must’ve been tough, killing your own father and all.”

            She smirked at him. “Not really he never loved me anyway.” She twirled a finger through one of her onyx locks. “So where were you headed?” she asked changing the subject.

            “To the Fourth wall.”

            She let out a loud laugh. “You believe in that place?”

            “What do you mean believe?” He adopted a serious expression. “It’s real.”

            “Sure it is; what did you plan to do when you got there?”

             Sea took a deep breath. “Use it to leave Scrawl.”

            “And go where?” She smiled and cocked an eyebrow.

            “Endwater.” He said solemnly.

            “Of course you believe that exists too.” She rolled her eyes.

            “It does.” He yelled. “It must.”

            “Oh yes and why must it?” She leaned back.

            “Because if it doesn’t I’m going to die.” He looked down at his hands.

            She moved closer to him. “Why, who are you?”

            He looked her in the eyes, his glinting sliver to her shinning gold. “I am the child of the Sun and the Moon.”

            She smirked, she knew what that meant. The sun and the moon were one of the many analogies for the Empress and Emperor who had created their people’s first empire. The phrase was to denote those of Noble spiritual birth, but last she had heard all of the members of the Obsidian Empire had be exiled or killed, mostly the latter. However even if some were still alive could this young man be one of them? She did get that “interesting” feeling from him, that low hum, that steady vibration that hit the base of her spine and the center of her head at the same time, filling her with beautiful emotions. The more she focused on the sensations the easier it became to believe what this boy was saying. Smiling she looked upon him. “If you do make it to the Fourth wall, and to the other side, would you search for my other self and remind her of this?”

            Blaq smiled and his eyes shown brighter than ever. “Yes, of course.”

            She took his hand. “You promise?”

            He nodded to her. “Yes, I promise.”

            She picked up his hand and kissed it. “Thank.” She then lay down next to him on her side and pulled him down to her. Her back was facing his stomach. “I’m tried; stay here tonight and in the morning I’ll send you to Abiola-Rey.”

            He lay down next to her. “O-ok.”  He rested his head behind hers.

            She smiled in the darkness and then turned her head slightly. “Put your arm around me would you; I don’t sleep alone if I can help it.”

            He obliged her and wrapped his hand around her waist. “Is this ok?”

            “Mmm, that’s perfect.” She closed her eyes and smiled. “Oh and if I start moving during the night, just hold me closer ok?”

            “Uh, o-ok.” Blaq stammered

            “Sleep well.” She said with a smile.

            “Y-you too.” Blaq exhaled slowly, closed his eyes and felt the weight of his body drop away.

Endwater, Now

            Roderick sat up; he was perspiring, his clothes and parts of his bed sheets clung to him. It’s like having a wet dream with your whole body. He peeled off his covers, got up and while he stretched his mind-attempted piece together the fading fragments of dream approaching the edges of his consciousness. Was it a dream or was it a memory He put on his glasses and walked to the bathroom groping for the lights in the pitch-black hallway, more out of habit than anything else. Coming up on the open door he flicked on the light and looked into the mirror, nothing out of the ordinary. No wide smile, no silver eyes nothing just plain old Roderick Parker. However he didn’t feel plain at all, on the contrary he felt quite extraordinary or at least better than normal. It was as if he couldn’t remember what thoughts currently depressed him and if he could the feelings of melancholy the thoughts brought with them were gone. Was this what Blaq meant when he said he’d make his life better? He did seem to have the courage to express his feelings to Sierra and she did seem to respond in kind. At least she returned both kisses. He was able to take on Randy twice, although he didn’t remember the first time. He smiled at his reflection and then remembered the Unbound, How can that exist in this world, in its true form. He ran his fingers through his hair, the thought that he had less time then he assumed ran through his mind. The shuffling from outside caused Roderick’s head to whip around to attention, he looked outside the bathroom door and saw a long shadow stretch across the floor. Leaning against the doorframe he peered around it and saw a figure shambling out of his mother’s room. Though he couldn’t make out the features he could tell it wasn’t his mother, the figures shoulders were broad and it was taller than her. It’s a man, must be James. His mother’s boyfriend never stayed at their house however she had been talking about having him spend the night. It didn’t matter to Roderick as long as he was safe down the hall with his nice sturdy walls. The figure cocked its head back at an odd angle and Roderick swore he heard the sound of loud sniffing. Roderick turned off the light and slinked out of the bathroom and back into his own room. After a moment he heard it stalking down the hallway toward his room and picked up his acoustic guitar, the one he never played and readied it for attack. He was certain that wasn’t James, what wasn’t sure of was if it was a human being at all. Since Blaq and I merged a lot of strange shit has been happening. A thought clicked in his head as if he was remembering something from another life, a memory that the other side of him had, of something grim and horrid. “Fantom.” Was the single word he whispered as the very thing came bursting through his door he swung with all his might smashing the polished wood against its head. He flicked on the switch and was face to pale, emaciated face with his brother Avery. His eyes were blood shot and he twitched uncontrollably, springing to his feet he lunged at Roderick and was on him in seconds. “Get off of me.” Roderick positioned his foot under Avery’s groin and kicked. Letting out a howl of pain he rolled off of him and curled into a fetal position. “Well your weak point was easy to find.” Roderick got up and took off his glasses as the air began to become thick and the hairs on his body stood up, his eyes became gleaming silver discs. “Now we can play, but not in here.” Roderick ran out of his room and past his mother’s noticing the crimson trail leading from her door. Mom The panic that began to flood his mind was quickly overcome by another calming force, something that made him stop at the stairs. The recovered Avery was now running toward him at a furious speed.  Roderick crouched into a defensive position and as Avery came upon him, Roderick shifted his weight and tossed Avery down the stairs, sending him through the banister and to the floor below. Roderick’s body moved on its own, he felt as if his muscles recalled prior fights of this nature and a way to handle them. So Blaq was a fighter? Roderick looked down at his brother’s body as it began to stir. This has to end leaping down the steps where the body was he was caught in mid-air by Avery’s iron grip. “Ack.” Clutching at his arm to relive the pressure he looked into Avery’s eyes, they were dead and vacant; nothing remained of his brother. His eyes began to glow and their silver sheen shown brightly causing Avery to drop him and shield his eyes.

            “You know, I was gonna waste my time thinking of some elaborate emotional speech before I ended this, but I know that wasn’t your thing, so I’m just going to kill you.” Roderick threw a kick to Avery’s side sending him rolling.

            “Argghhh” Avery let out a primal roar, picked up a chair and smashed it against Roderick’s head sending him flying into the kitchen.

            “Damn it.” Roderick hit the kitchen counter and cleared it of its contents. Rolling on his side he glimpsed a kitchen knife inches away from him.

            “Rahhhh.” Avery leapt onto the counter his movements were quick and primal. Gazing at the floor he grunted in frustration when he noticed Roderick was gone and then wailed in agony when he felt cold, sharp steel pierce his side.

            “Gotcha.” Roderick smiled and attempted to remove the knife but Avery, who proceeded to punch him in the face and then lift him over his head, seized his arm.

            Avery launched Roderick into the stove causing the mechanism to collapse and the gas line to be exposed. “Argh.” Roderick yelled at the pain. I’m lucky to be Alive but that hurt like hell.  Avery towered over him picked him up and tossed him back across the kitchen counter into the living room where he broke through the coffee table. Lying there in a haze he rolled to his feet he watched Avery come toward him slowly in the same manner a predator stalks its prey. Roderick shuffled over to his mothers well stocked liquor cabinet. He doubted that the bottles would stop him but he was sure that he could find something that would blind him until he could figure something out. Avery lunged at Roderick and was met by a bottle of scotch in the face, the glass and alcohol disoriented him as Roderick continued with various alcoholic beverages. Looking around frantically, Roderick spotted and auto lighter just as Avery was upon him. Pulling the trigger he threw it at Avery, setting him ablaze.

            “Arooooooh.” Avery spun in a circle as the flames engulfed him, the alcohol causing it to spread rapidly.

            Roderick made for the door and was almost out of it before he noticed Avery ‘dance’ into the kitchen and slam into the damaged stove with its open gas line. He felt more than heard the explosion as it rocketed him through the door; he felt the searing heat on the back of his neck and the bone jarring impact as he hit the pavement. That should’ve killed me; Blaq must give me a superhuman constitution. As his eyelids hung low he heard a distance voice calling to him, it wasn’t Blaq’s, it was a woman’s voice

            “I guess I got here too late.” The woman sounded worried but familiar. “At least you’re still breathing.” Roderick attempted to place it but wasn’t able to cycle through his memory and battle the wave of unconsciousness that threatened to over take him any moment. He fought it his body was limp and for the most part he could only hear and feel what was going on around him as his eyes were too weak to open. There was movement though and that woman’s voice, who she was he didn’t know but she didn’t seem to mean him any harm. Roderick realized then that he was losing his bout with the waking world and passed out again.

            There was a dull ache in the base of his skull, but he was still alive. He opened his eyes for a moment and then immediately closed them as the piercing rays of the sun shot through the blinds. He didn’t know where he was but he felt that a familiar presence was near by. He got up off of the hot leather couch and in a haze stumbled over to the kitchen table where a glass of water was waiting for him. He downed it in one gulp.

            “I guess I found you instead huh?” He opened his he looked up and their before him was the smiling face of a honey colored young woman. She had a ring in her lip and another one in her tongue. She walked over to a stove that had a number of things boiling over on top of it. “You want something to eat, I’m making rice and veggies.” He smiled this young woman had an air of familiar newness to her. Something he could use at the moment, with his mother having been murdered by his-possessed? He didn’t even know what to call it-brother; he had no home to go to. Especially since he had to kill the aforementioned brother in a fire that burned his house down and he was now in need of something different. He wanted to escape this craziness that had become his life Blaq had said it would make his life better, but now he’s homeless and alone.

                        “I’m gonna let this stuff sit and take a shower.” She walked into the bathroom. “The names Adriana by the way.”

Her apartment was your standard affair; he sat at the kitchen table made of some wood he hadn’t seen before. She had a half kitchen that connected to the dinning room. A leather couch parked in front of a dusty television set, a few potted plants and walls lined with bookshelves.             He sat in silence going over the past couple of hours in his head. What about Sierra he thought? Should I even bother to pursue a relationship with her? First the Unbound and then the stuff at my house, it seems like everything in my life ends suffering. I don’t think I can put her through that, he intoned. I should call her and tell her that we can’t be together, but it’s probably best if I just disappear.

            The sound of footsteps took him out of his head. Adriana walked back in wearing a towel. She was glistening and putting her tongue ring back in as she walked toward him. He gave her an odd look and she responded. “ I take it out when I’m brushing sometimes.”

            “Um It’s not that, You’re walking around in a towel and you barely know me.” Roderick was a bit flushed.

            “Of course I know you, wouldn’t have saved you if I didn’t.” She smiled. “ Scrawl, remember the desert?”

            Something clicked in Roderick’s mind. “Dee Dee?”

            “He remembers me.” She grinned.

            “I guess you saved me twice huh?”

            “Looks like it.” She walked over to the stove and he noticed the top of a tattoo on her shoulder blades. “You wanna eat?”

            “No thank you I’m not hungry.” He looked down at his hands. How could he be after killing his brother? The one he wanted dead anyway that was irony though.

            “ Okay.” She fixed herself a plate. “What were you doing in that rubble?”

            Roderick looked around; nervously he wasn’t ready to talk about this much less think about it. “Uh can we talk about something else please?”

            “Sure like what?” She looked up at him from her plate.

            “Your piercings did they hurt?”

            “The first couple did but after that nah.”

            “Well how many do you have?”

            “ Seven, one in each ear, one in my tongue, one in my lip and the rest are covered up by this towel.” She grinned lasciviously.

            Roderick blushed. “Oh.”

            She stood up and walked around to his side of the table and took his hand. “You wanna see the rest?”

            He looked into her eyes and they were a peculiar gold. “Yes, please.” She took him by the hand and led him into her bedroom.

Chapter III: The Unbound 

            It had dwelled in the corner of the eye, jumping from consciousness to consciousness; dream-to-dream in search of its prey it had been given a mission. Its mission was its purpose, if it had no mission it would not exist, could not exist. So it hunted and hunted, and suddenly, it found its prey. Though it had no eyes or ears to speak of, it could ‘see’ him clearly, there was a problem another being was in its way attempting to take its prize, its purpose away. Shouting loudly the other one waved a small weapon in its hand. Its prey seemed unwavering as always, its trip through the fourth wall had transformed it into a dog it was still as ferocious and steadfast as ever. From the rooftop, it crept down the building, proving that though it was confined to a form of the reality its laws did not confine it.

            “Put the knife down Randy.” Roderick relaxed, he was calm and oh so collected. “You wouldn’t want to hurt yourself now would you?”

            “Shut the fuck up, I don’t know what you did to me last time but it won’t happen again.” Randy’s voice cracked under his hysterical scream.

            Roderick put up his hands in a placating gesture. “Listen to me, there’s no need to do this. You and Sierra can sit down and talk.”

            “Fuck that.” Randy broke into a run, knife waving wildly in front of him.

            This isn’t going well; I have to stop him before this gets out of hand. Roderick breathed deeply and closed his eyes; a surge of electricity began to build in the center of his skull and shot straight down his spine. He formed an image in his mind and then called it forth. “Stop!”

            Randy’s eyes went white, his arms slapped to his sides causing him to drop the knife and his legs stopped mid run as if caught in a snare and tied together. He hit the ground and due to the inertia slid a few feet forward. Completely paralyzed, he lay there like a rock.

            “I’m sorry Randy but you forced me to do this, I’m going to leave you here and when I go you’ll regain your ability to move.” Roderick walked over to the knife, picked it up and put it in his pocket. “Just so you won’t get any ideas.” He adjust his glasses and began to walk away, but a loud thump stopped him in his tracks and slow, measured foot steps caused him to whirl around; he took a step forward attempting to peer into the darkness beyond Randy’s comatose body. Strange gleaming eyes peered at him and a sense a familiar dread washed over. It was a German Sheppard, lithe and muscular; it crouched into position ready to spring like a coiled serpent. It opened its mouth wide; its jaw unhinged and down its throat was an extra set of jagged teeth. Roderick knew what this was, or at least Blaq Prince did and he didn’t think it would find him so soon. He took off his glasses and his pupils began to glow like fireflies in the pale moonlight. Crouching in a defensive position, he watched as the animal’s eyes move from him to Randy. No The beast crept closer a glistening pink tongue more reptilian than canine extended from it’s mouth and wrapped around Randy’s leg. Roderick, reached into his pocket to retrieve Randy’s knife.

            She had come to a halt in a short time, her years of athletics, conditioned her to run for long periods without getting winded, but tonight’s happenings all but stole her breath. What the hell am I doing, I can’t let Roderick get hurt over me.  Stopping short of the entrance to her building, she spun on her heel and turned around. She thought about the day and didn’t think that breaking up with Randy would lead to this series of events. It wasn’t as if they were together for that long and it wasn’t like she considered him a serious suitor. They had slept together a couple of times and despite his begging, he never met her family. For the most part, they were in a physical relationship, with the title of boyfriend and girlfriend at his insistence. She was using him in a sense but wasn’t, she grew up around guys like Randy, or those he claimed to be like, guys who went from girl to girl no strings attached. So why was it when he landed on her he started to “catch feelings” as they say, or was it she who landed on him? Her thoughts jumped to Roderick, she was never sure of Roderick’s actual feelings for her until tonight. For a short while, she wasn’t even sure if he liked girls, and then once or twice she caught him staring at her ass out of the corner of her eye, mainly at the arcade, where she dressed her best. In hindsight she wondered why she dressed so attractively to go to such a place, it wasn’t like any of the guys there were her type. The only explanation was to catch Roderick’s eye, but she hadn’t been trying to, at least not consciously. She wasn’t even sure if she’d thought about Roderick in an amours way, sure she had a few fleeting fantasies of what kind of lover he’d be, though after tonight she’d love to make them come true.  I’ve got to stop them she took off like a bullet, sprinting down the four long blocks with ease and grace, her mind focused on saving Roderick’s life. Rounding the corner she stopped in her tracks awe struck and partly horrified, her eyes went wide and she jumped back.  

            Roderick’s eyes glowed wildly as he ran toward Randy’s unmoving body. “Move!” He called out coming to a halt just as the young man jostled to life.

            “What the hell is this, get it off of me.” Randy screamed, it appeared that while his body was unmoving he was conscious up to this point. “Gimme the knife.”

              Roderick crouched down and Randy snatched the blade away, taking the knife to the creatures tongue as it began to drag him toward its wide jaws. Metal touched flesh and an unearthly wail sounded in response, dragging its tongue back the beast shook unsteadily and darted forward, in two fluid leaps it was upon Randy locking it’s jaws around his leg. Not good Roderick’s eyes flashed brighter as he kicked the dog hard in the face. “Off!” It retreated but not without leaving a nasty bite on Randy’s leg, he fell back and all but cried like a baby.

            “Call an ambulance…that shit might have rabies.” He rolled around clutching his leg.

            Roderick turned from Randy to the Sheppard, their eyes locked as it shook off his attack. Why hasn’t it come after me yet? He looked at it trying to figure out its motives. This was an Unbound any doubts he had about that, were thoroughly washed away when he met its otherworldly eyes. He thought of how he could kill it, in Scrawl he had the entire world at his command, his power granted him control over the forces of reality. Here in this reality, his abilities were greatly diminished, not knowing what he could and couldn’t do wasn’t going to help him, and the rules of the realm didn’t come with a manual. All he had was his ability to command, hoping that this would be enough to best the ferocious creature he took a gamble. It had moved before he finished his thought and if it weren’t for his otherworldly abilities the animal would’ve mauled him, but he hit the ground as it leapt at him causing the creature to fly clear over him. Sliding along the floor, he watched it turn around and was upon it before it could leap up again and although he couldn’t avoid its tongue, he didn’t stop and in one fluid motion grabbed the muscle, wrapped it around the dog’s throat and began to pull.

            “Roderick!”  Sierra stood with her eyes wide and her mouth open. “What the hell is that?”

            Damn it “A stray dog that attacked Randy, call an ambulance I think he’s hurt.” I don’t want her to see this. As Roderick contemplated his image in front of Sierra, he failed to notice the growing form below him until he was floating weightlessly eight feet in the air. The impact jarred his entire skeletal system, knocking the wind from him with great force, his mind worked frantically as his eyes caught sight of the creature in front of him, its form so hideous it was almost beautiful. The Unbound had cast off its disguise, and was now towering over Sierra and the fallen Randy who she sought to. It was at least eight feet in height, its gangling oddly angled limbs still had pieces of fur and flesh on them. Its twisting skull made one revolution making it impossible to tell which end was the top and which was the bottom. Its ashen skin had the texture of old leather and the strange X patterned stitching that served as a mouth opening made it look like something out of a marvelous horror film. How the hell is it able to manifest in this realm, If I need a body how come it doesn’t? Roderick turned to look at Sierra, she was frozen starting awe struck at the creature before her. Roderick figured she was in shock, and if he had to get her and Randy out of here safely, he’d have to act quickly. Dashing with greatest speed, he positioned himself between Sierra, Randy, and the Unbound.

            “I’m your prey, your purpose, leave them alone.” Roderick spread his arms in front of them. His eyes flared and his ponytail came undone draping his locks on his shoulders. “Sierra, Randy, move now!” His voice was low, but forceful, it carried with a persuasion that almost forcibly pried the shock from Sierra’s mind and the pain from Randy’s leg, they both scrambled back across the street.

            Sierra now in full control of her faculties pulled out her cell phone and dialed 911. “Yes hello, I’m at South window Avenue on the corner of Jones place my friend was bitten by a rabid dog.” She hung up as soon as the chatter on the other end subsided. “Are you ok?” She looked at Randy’s leg; it was bleeding but not profusely.

            “Mutha fuckin…what ever that is bit me, what do you think?” Randy snapped, his eyes were red from crying. “Tell them niggas to hurry, I could have rabies…I don’t wanna get no shot.” At that moment, Sierra wondered what she ever saw in him. As his heavy masculine façade fell away, she saw him as a little boy and not the charming type.

            Sierra’s eyes looked up to see Roderick stabbing the creature as its tongue held him in the air and slammed him into a wall. His skin showed darker in contrast to his now flaming silver eyes. As his body hit the red brick, she called out putting her hand to her heart. She didn’t know what was going on, but she knew whatever it was, wasn’t good not for her, or the city of Endwater. The creature darted toward Roderick, who had just gotten to his feet and was unarmed. These were the longest minutes of her life, she was terribly afraid for Roderick and that fear trumped the notion that none of what she was seeing could possibly be happening. Roderick rolled out of the way of the creatures tongue, got up and threw the recovered knife into its open mouth. It staggered, regained its balance, and then screamed at him, charging wildly. Roderick’s back was against a wall as he eyed the beast , Sierra stared wondering why he didn’t move out of the way and she then noticed he’s saying something, but what she couldn’t hear. A deafening yelp sounded from the creature as it tripped and hit the floor hard. It came to a stop right before Roderick and Sierra watched as the hideous form convulsed and with each movement, began to decay.

            Roderick’s breath slowed and as it did, the gleaming in his eyes subsided; he leaned against a wall slowly sliding down it as an ambulance’s sirens blared into the earshot. Klaxons bathed the block in red, temporarily blinding Sierra and Randy who had since  Seased crying. The paramedics hopped out of the van and opened the back doors where a third rolled out a stretcher; the first two gingerly helped Randy up on to it.

            “Will you be going with us?” The first paramedic turned to Sierra; he was a stocky man of Hispanic descent with short cropped black hair.

            She shook her head slowly, her eyes on Roderick leaning in the shadows across the street. “No, I’m ok, I wasn’t attacked.”

            “Oh he saved you eh?” The man smiled at her. “I guess chivalry isn’t dead huh?”

            Sierra flashed Randy a disdainful look as he was wheeled into the vehicle. “No…it’s not.”

            “Can you get home from here do you need a ride?” He offered.

            “I’m a few blocks up, I can manage.”

            The paramedic shrugged and walked back to the ambulance and then jumped into the driver’s seat. Sierra didn’t notice when the van pulled off, nor did she care about the on coming cars as she crossed the street. Her eyes were trying to adjust to the dark alcove in which moments ago Roderick Parker slouched, catching his breath after having fought with something that most certainly could not have been real.

            “Roderick?” She walked closer to the now shadowed area. “Are you there?” She crept closer and the sound of sudden movement made her jump back.

            “Stay there.” his still even voice shot back. He walked out of the shadows his hair tied back; he adjusted his glasses and looked up at her. All hints of silver were gone he smiled gently at her. “Everything’s ok.”

            “What was that?” She blinked rapidly. “What happened?” Her breathing began to increase. She wasn’t sure if it was the fact that she was seeing him after the maddening event that had just transpired, or because the need to help Randy was bigger than her need to quake, but now with no life or death situation and no buffers, shock set in like a run away freight train. Her pupils dilated and she began to tremble, Roderick put his hands on her shoulders to keep her standing and then looked at her hard. Her reality is crumbling came a voice in his head. Blaq Prince side of Roderick had some how known that this would happen, somehow being of two worlds a person intrinsically knew these things. He put her up against the wall, and thought, If everything I knew to be impossible started to happen right in front of me, how would I rationalize it? Roderick looked up at her vacant teary eyes and removed his glasses. His eyes were instantly alight. “This was a dream, nothing more!” His words bounced around her skull and flew up and down her nervous system; she stopped trembling and breathed in deeply as she came to.

            “Roderick, what’s the matter why am I leaning against this wall?” She said In even breaths.

            Putting his glasses back on, he looked at her. “You said you were feeling light headed, it might have been the food.” He smiled convincingly

            “Oh, yeah, that must have been it.” She blinked slowly.

            “I was just walking you home.” Roderick grabbed her hand and they headed toward her house. She looked at him as they walked to her stoop.

            “Thank you for, tonight.” Sierra’s words wrung in her own ears making her feel numb.

            He looked in her eyes and she was lost, again glowing in a bewilderment called romance. They kissed slowly tenderly, like lovers, old lovers Roderick thought. When they stopped he stepped backwards off of her stoop.

            “Please call me, let me know you got home ok.” She sighed and then smiled, she opened the door and went in as he waved goodbye.

            Walking down the block Roderick clenched his fists. He hated what he had to do to Sierra regardless if it was for her own good, he would have rather told her the truth then rearrange her thoughts. “I’m sorry.” He whispered in the night air, he continued on till he reached the train station, the last hour had been trying and if it was any indication of what was to come he’d need help and fast.

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            The moon hung out in distant space, the clouds framed it to look like the eye of some majestic god, like a child looking into a fish bowl. The windows of the mayoral mansion fogged as the heat from the room gathered with intensity.

            “Go faster.” A young woman moaned as she neared climax. “Faster.” Her tan skin glistened in the moonlight as sweat coursed down her neck, chest, and thighs.

            The young man between them smiled at her, his curly brown hair bounced as he pushed deeper, his skin was just a shade lighter than hers marking his mixed ancestry, he’d never felt at home with any group of people, a kid who looked black with green eyes and wavy hair, found it hard to relate to many people mayor’s son or not. That didn’t stop him from being popular with women of all colors, black women seemed to love green eyes for whatever reason, and white women seemed to love the extra edge his melanin gave him. He didn’t care for either particularly; none had seemed to peak his interest not even the girl he was with now. He couldn’t remember her name and at some point didn’t care she was a fun time, a shiny new toy that would lose its luster.

            “I’m in control, not you.” He whispered as his right hand shot out clasped around her neck. Despite his stature, he was quite strong and as a hand reached up and clawed his arm, he pushed faster.

            “Ack…ugh…eck.” The girl’s gasps came short and sharp as she fought to remove his hand. She began to turn red trying to pry his iron-clad grip from her neck. Finally he let go and she was greeted by the most powerful sensation she had ever felt, sliding from her brain stem down to her nether region. She convulsed around him as she felt something wet and warm enter her.

            He looked down and smiled. “Wasn’t that good?” He pulled out of her and got up.

            She shook her head to affirm his question she was breathless, shaking, and completely satisfied despite having been choked a few moments ago.  She looked up at him in the moonlight and found herself oddly fascinated, though she had been with a number of men all attracted to her wide hips and ample butt. It felt like something otherworldly.

            “You just gonna stand there staring up at me, or you gonna get on this?” He pointed to his dick.

            As she put her lips around his member and began to suck, she was surprised to feel his hand grasping her face. “Faster….”

            “Nahbia.” She mouthed around him, her name was Nadia and he probably didn’t remember, but she’d make him remember, a favor for a favor she always thought. Being a sycophant was how she’d ended up in this position and when she thought about it being on her knees sucking off the mayor’s son wasn’t half bad.

            He grew impatient thrusting himself down her throat faster than when he had been inside of her. His smile became a maddening deaths head grin as he took pleasure in the sound of her choking once again.  I could be a porn star, this is how they do it right?  He shuddered before climaxing down her throat.

            She coughed as the sticky fluid filled her esophagus. Pulling away, she spit on the floor. “Are you trying to kill me?”

            He smiled at her. “If you don’t swallow next time I just might.” He stepped off the bed and walked into his own bathroom located to the far wall of his enormous room. 

            “Next time.” She said wiping her mouth and looking for her clothes. “What makes you think they’re be a next time?” For a moment, she was filled with a sense of outrage.

            “Because I’m Ian Redgrave, there’s always a next time.” He looked out at her from the bathroom.

            Her anger faded as soon as it came she dropped her clothes and stood up. “You’re right, you are.”

            He smiled at her. “You wanna join me?”

            “Yes, please let me.” Nadia ran into the bathroom and Ian closed the door behind them.  

            As the moon and the sun sat across from one another in the sky Ian lay alone in his bed, drifting between sleep and thought, he’d kicked Nadia out long ago preferring his own company to anyone else’s. The noises coming from down stairs shattered his beautiful solitude. Getting dressed he walked out of his room and down the snaking spiral staircase. His mother was drunk again and rambling about his philandering father and how she thought white men were different when she first met him. Ian would later realize that men were all the same most of the time. And being a man like his father he didn't stay in one place too long. His dad's latest take was barely out of high school but legal, and because his mother wanted to remain, the mayor’s wife and keep all of the nice things she'd gotten, she said nothing. Ian wandered off into the garden surrounding the mayoral mansion and had come across the pond at its center. There he heard a voice, calling him like as siren song to the edge of the pond. The strangest thing about it was the voice was coming from the pond, like some mystical talking fish of legend. Traveling to its edge Ian sat down in front of it, but when he looked over to see his reflection in the still water, he saw something else, something more mystifying and beautiful than he could imagine. It was a man, with ash gray skin; his short wavy hair reminded Ian of his own.

            “Where did you come from?” Ian was startled to here himself ask the question.  As if a reflection could answer back,

            “I'm not a reflection I assure you.” The man began to move, he wore a long blue coat, knitted of a strange material, his pants fluttered as wind swept the pond and his heavy vest seemed warm in these summer months.

            “You talk?” Ian didn't move he stood still contemplating whether or not what he was seeing was the onset of some sort of insanity. “But how?”

            “I assure you I do.” The man smiled. “And you’re not crazy.”

            “Well coming from you, that helps.” Ian shifted.

            “Listen I need you to join me in the water. “ The young man reached his hand up toward the surface. “I'm here to rescue you from your life.” his gray lips split into a smile.

            “Really?” He looked toward his house.

            “Iannnnnnn!” Ian's drunken mother called for him. “Come help me out of this chair.”

            Ian turned away from the house and toward the pond. “Tell me more.”

             “Take my hand.” The gray man gestured again.

            Oh what the hell. He reached his hand into the pool and was pulled into the water, but what he found on the other side was not water at all. It was a large stone cavern with a large pool of water in the middle. Ian looked across to see the gray man.

            “Welcome Ian, I am Pariah Gray, the crown prince of the planet of Scrawl. “

            “That's a funny name for some one so important.” Ian thought about his own heritage and position in society and frowned. “So what happens now?”

            Pariah gray gestured to Ian to follow him. “I want to show you something.” He stopped and then turned. “Oh and be prepared it's hot outside.”

            Ian followed him out of the cavern as the cool climate gave way to an increasing humidity. The winds blew black sand at the mouth of the cave, Pariah handed Ian a scarf and Ian wrapped it around his face and head. “So why do they call you Pariah, I mean I get the Gray part.”

            Pariah turned to him regarding him with red eyes. “I am like you.” he looked down. “Of dual parentage.”

            Ian said nothing but followed Pariah out into desert. “This is my world, it’s called Scrawl.” Pariah swept his hand across the expanse of black sand.

            Ian looked at the mounds in the distance and the sun ascending the sky. He saw birds flying across the sky. “Looks kinda nice except for the wind.”

            “It's a dying world.” Pariah looks at Ian. “I need your help.”

            “With what?” Ian looks at Pariah.” What can I do?”

            Pariah smiled at him and extended his hand. “Take my hand.”        

            Ian stared at him, his smile causing any apprehension he had to be washed away in a sea that felt like familiarity. He took Pariah’s hand and was over come by a sensation so intense he lost consciousness. When Ian came to, he was beside the pond, the wind stirred around him. Getting to his feet he felt different, not as good as he did a second ago but savoring the glow, what ever had just happened, it had felt good and right. A smile crossed his lips, as his shoulders relaxed.  This is the feeling I’ve been searching for, this feeling of peace, of kinship, of self.

Chapter II: Blaq Prince

            “Huff.”

            “Huff.”

            “Huff.”

            Roderick sat up in his bed, cold sweat ran down his back like a serpent snaking across a desert. He looked at his surroundings; the bed room was cool and black. He put on his glasses, which were slightly cracked, the light from his alarm clock blinked 8:30. How did I get in my room.

            “Roddy?”  Natalie’s voice rang out through the hollow hall. “Are you up?”

            Roderick rubbed his eyes with is hands.  Of course I’m up who could sleep with you yelling like that? “Yeah mom I’m up.” Roderick stepped out of bed and ran his fingers through his hair. Walking out into the hallway he noticed his mother putting on her earrings in a hallway mirror. “What’s the matter why were you yelling?”

            “Well, your brother Avery didn’t come home last night, have you heard from him?” She maneuvered her earnings as if they were wires of a bomb, and one false move would set them off.

            “No mom sorry, can’t say that I have.” Roderick closed his door. He wouldn’t ask Avery for a molecule of air if he were drowning, so talking to him causally wasn’t going to happen. However, on the edges of his mind something told him that Avery was gone and may never come back.

            “Ok well, I’ll call him later I’m going out, love you honey.” Roderick heard her descend the stairs.

            Roderick swung his legs toward the edge of the bed, and felt a small tinge in his stomach. “How did I end up here, I was in school, getting my ass kicked by Randy.”

            “I made contact with you.” Roderick’s reflection began to speak. “That’s what happened.”

            “Contact, but that was a…?”

            “That thing in the bathroom earlier, I couldn’t let you get your ass kicked, there’s still so much to do, and my enemies from Scrawl are still on my trail.”

            “But Scrawl’s just at story I created.” Roderick plopped back onto his bed.    

            “Hate to break it to you but Scrawl existed long before you did, you were just taping into the Stasis, I’d tell you all about it, but it’d be better to show you.” 

            “How are you going to do that?” Roderick raised an eyebrow.

            His reflection sighed heavily, the glass stretched out like bubble gum. “I need your body.”

            Roderick crawled backward, a sinking fear framing his face.  “What’ll happen to me?”

            “Nothing, we’ll be sharing the same body.” He shrugged. “Look I can explain better to you once you’ve seen the Stasis.”

            “How do I do that?” Roderick’s face calmed a little bit.

            “Well you just Sleep” The last word was a voice in his head, and he was out.

They stood at the edge of a stream both on either side. Roderick walked toward the reflection that stood on the opposite side. With each step, he spun taking in the beauty of the new area. The sky was a powder blue and there was a thin haze all around, small green lights twinkled in the distance and the trees blew but there was no wind. Roderick noticed that his reflection didn’t wear, his eyes were silver, his locks were wild and untamed, and from what Roderick could tell, he was very athletic.

            “I thought you were supposed to be me.” Roderick raised an eyebrow. “You look different, better.”

            “Well I’m more of the other you, from Scrawl.” The smile was normal this time.

            “Right, do you have a name; I mean I don’t recall giving you one.” Roderick scratched his head. “I mean it’s mine but I assume you want your own.”

            “I have a name.”

            “You do, what is it?”

            “I’m called Blaq Prince back in Scrawl.” he smiled.

            “So if I give you my body, what do I get?”

“I’ll make your life better, I’m an Ink Dweller, we have power. Not only that but, I’m charming, I’m witty and I kicked Randy’s ass although you weren’t awake to see that.” Blaq laughed

            “About that, what happened?”

            “When I’m awake you’re asleep, but you can see what I’m doing and vice versa, but that’s only for now.”

            “So will I be like schizophrenic?” Roderick gave a puzzled look.

            “No, once this happens I’m you, it’ll be like the conscious and the subconscious or two halves of the brain.” Blaq rubbed his onyx chin. “It’s not like two people in one body, it’s more like a synthesis.”  

            “Oh ok, so how do we do this?”    

            “You just walk to the edge of the Stasis and you’ll wake up.”

            “Oh ok, whose gonna be in control?” Roderick asked.

            “I’ll take over, as I recall you have to meet with Sierra at the arcade, and I know how you feel about her, just leave it to me.”

            “Oh ok.” Roderick and Blaq walked to the edge of the Stasis, looking back he watched Blaq Prince vanish. Breathing deeply he walked toward the infinite expanse before him. 

          The sounds of exploding cars and bloody fights filled the air. Lights flashed from machines that prompted their users to dance on time to a beat. He stood still adjusting to the sounds and light

People went head to head on steep highways and racetracks at break neck speeds. If you’d like to kill an hour of your life, take a walk in the park, if you’d like to waste it, hit the local arcade. The Cyber Chest was an arcade and video game retailer that had been around since anyone could remember. All of its patrons were what you expected the younger versions of seedy bar flies that rarely had sex and used date rape drugs to do so look like. Roderick pushed his way through the crowd lining the arcade machines, beyond the smoke and smell of unwashed bodies he’d hoped to find a bit of fun while trying not to get sucked in. Now arcades usually had a high male to female population, that being 99:1, the females that were regulars sometimes made you wonder whether it wasn’t a 100:0 ratio. On occasion, an attractive female did show up and if she wasn’t on someone’s arm, she fell into three categories, Shrew, Crazed, and Rare. Tonight Roderick was looking for one in particular 

            There she sat staring at the lights of the newest racing game cooling off, from having danced her heart to a screaming pace. Roderick had seen her when he walked in ,hips like you wouldn’t believe and an ass to go with it; her hair was braided in a way that reminded him of tree roots. She wore a fitting novelty t-shirt, and pant’s so tight, you could see the change in her pocket. He brushed his hair in front of his face, to imitate the fashion of the day, his locks perfectly framing his glasses. Adjusting his t-shirt so that the logo on it was clearly visible, he tightened the belt on his skinny jeans to make them look even tighter. Finally he dusted off his sneakers and walked over.

            “Mind if I join you?” Roderick stood next to her seat. 

            She looked up a bit annoyed, but then her eyes changed, lighting up like stars. “Roddy, you made it, I was worried.” She got up and hugged him tightly.

            “Why would you be worried?” He hugged her back a bit closer.

            “I heard you and Randy had a fight in the bathroom.” She looked at him with a hint of sadness. “And he’s bigger than you…so I was afraid…”

            “Well as you can see I’m ok, but enough about that, let’s play some Zero fist.”

            “Oh well I didn’t know you were in such a hurry to get your butt whooped.” She laughed.

            Zero Fist was a 3D fighting game that both Sierra and Roderick had become acquainted over. On Roderick’s first day, he’d come to the arcade to find some competition. Here he and Sierra ran into each other and preceded to a match, after realizing they went to the same school, they began hanging. They walked up to the game cabinet, slotted their coins and selected their characters, they both picked Caporeia fighters.

            “How about we make this interesting, the loser buys dinner.” Sierra smirked.

            “Oh, sure, I hope you have enough to spot me though.” Roderick laughed.

            The first round she beat him badly inciting combo after combo, but there were three rounds in a head-to-head match and he’d have two more to win. The second round he used a flurry of kicks and acrobatics to throw her off guard and win. The third round would be tough, she didn’t seem at all worried, but he knew she was. Roderick could read people and he’d known from experience Sierra’s little nervous ticks. He watched her lips twitch and knew she was as nervous as he was. She began a simple combo, a barrage of kicks coming for him, the trick to winning would be anticipating her final attack. He waited for her to charge up a finishing blow and attack at the exact same time.

            “Double K.O.” The voice from the machine blared.  

            “I guess we’re going Dutch.” Sierra smiled.

            “Yeah well let’s go now.” Roderick wiped sweat off of his face.

            They exited the arcade out into the cool night air. “You know I’ve always loved nights like this.” Roderick said as they began to walk, the moon hung large in the sky closer than it had ever been.

            “Oh yeah, why’s that?” Sierra put her hair in a ponytail using a rubber band.

            “Well it’s one of those nights, that makes you want to fall in love.” He smiled taking off his glasses to wipe the fog off.

            Sierra looked at him vacantly, as if transfixed by his words. “Yeah, I guess so.” She forced a laugh.

            They arrived at a small, Asian restaurant and were seated immediately; the place was almost empty and very quiet. They picked up their menus and looked them over. Instinctively Roderick checked his pockets for the money his mother had given him. God damn it Avery you fuck.

            “I’ve gotta go, I just realized I don’t have any money on me.” Roderick got up.

            “No, sit, I’ll pay for you.” Sierra had a worried expression on her face.

            Roderick sat back down. “Are you sure?”

            “Yes now sit and order.” She smiled.

            The waiter walked up to them and took their orders, she had shrimp with garlic sauce, and he had broccoli in the same manner. One thing Roderick loved about Sierra, besides the other things, was that she never made fun of him for being a vegetarian. So you only eat plants, it could be worse you could eat people.  

            “Hey did my remark about the night make you uncomfortable?” Roderick adjusted his glasses.

            “What, no, why would it?” Sierra looked around.

            “Well you gave me this kind of vacant look.”

            “It kinda caught me off guard.” She smiled nervously.

            “Well you know I’ve always been a hopeless romantic.” He tented his fingers.

            “I know, just not around me.”

            “Sorry, I’ll try not to be it so often.” He sighed.

“No, no it’s ok just give a sista some warning before you do it.” She laughed again this one was lighter.

            Roderick took a deep breath and thought about, what he came here to do. He hadn’t realized it but once he began talking to Sierra, everything became easier and seemed less depressing. He knew how he felt about her and now thanks to the Blaq persona had the courage to let her know. He reached across the table and grabbed her hand.

            “Sierra, would I be wrong if I said I wanted to kiss you?”

            She sat stunned; with a look so vast, she could’ve been calculating the expanse of space itself. “N-no.” She said almost breathlessly.

            At that moment Roderick leaned across the table and kissed her, a hot bolt of warm electricity, shot from his heart to his brain and nether region at lighting speed. It was as if the longing built up in a two-year friendship had culminated in this kiss. Time stopped and it could’ve stayed that way for all Roderick cared. He pulled back and she stared at him.

            “Maybe you should sit next to me.” He smiled

            She shook her head slowly. “Y-yeah.” She went to get up, but their orders had arrived.

            They were both slow to start they just stared at each other from across the table, then began taking little bites of their food. Roderick had lost his appetite; the electricity had settled in his stomach and refused to leave. The only thing that could satisfy him now was her and he knew she felt the same way. They finally finished and began to walk Sierra’s building was a few blocks ahead and as they walked they said nothing, Roderick listened in the night, he’d thought someone had been following them but wasn’t sure. Looking ahead, he stopped and held her hand for her to do the same.

            “What’s wrong?” Sierra looked at him puzzled.

            “Shh, someone’s following us.”

            “So it’s true, you were cheating on me bitch.” Randy had stepped out from a door way behind them; he had a knife in his hand, his face was bruised and strangely pale. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked disheveled, his cornrows were undone and out of place.

            “Randy, what are you doing?” Sierra stood in front of Roderick.

            “Catching you and this nigga in the act, just like I knew I would.” Randy advanced toward them. “You may have gotten lucky last time but now, I’m gonna kill your ass.”

            Roderick moved Sierra behind him something about Randy was off; it was most likely the effects of their previous altercation. “If you want a rematch we can have it, I’m sending her home though.” “Run.” He whispered to her.

            Sierra cocked her eyebrow at him. “And leave you to get stabbed, hell no, we just started something and I’ll be damned if he finishes it.”

            “Sierra.” He cradled her face in his hands. “Trust me, we’ll have a lot more time together just get home.”

            She looked in his eyes for any sign of hesitation, but he was dead serious, what ever was going on it wasn’t anything she’d experienced before. “Ok, but you better not die.”

            “I won’t, I promise.” He kissed her passionately. “Now go.”

            She ran away from Roderick and Randy, down the block, toward her building hoping that this wouldn’t be the last time she saw Roderick. They had begun something new and though her last relationship had been bad, she knew Roderick would be different and she’d welcome it.  Please live.

Shadow Guard: Malpractice

By Ra’Chaun Rogers

Part 1: Nights like these

It was quite a wet night. The kind of night that really makes you wanna curl up in bed and never wake. The kind of night that makes you down, melancholy, depressed. He loved these nights, melancholy made him feel poetic and he’s always found certain poetry in justice. He smiled behind his gas mask as they plunged down to the alley below on a drug deal in progress and he hates drug dealers. He landed right in front of them making as much noise as possible, he could have been silent but he wanted them to know he’s coming, the rain bounces off of his Kevlar armor. Their horrified looks say it all; they recognize the red and black costume and the haunting gas mask. How could they not, they’ve been all over the papers for the past year.

She landed silently on top of the buyer; she loved being silent, anything to defy him. She never liked the idea of striking fear, that’s why she wore blue and white, she didn’t care who could see her coming they wouldn’t be able to do her any harm anyway. She loved this stuff and she knew he did too, because as much as it’s been about cleaning up the streets, it had also become a game they played. By the time she looked up the dealer was already begging for mercy and Fearless was doing his dark and scary bit. It’s the mask she says it was always the mask, which is probably why she opted for her high collar, hood and goggles. For a guy whose name is Fearless he sure liked to instill it in people. But then again she was known as Thrill and that’s mainly why she did this, especially with him.

They leave the trash for the cops to pick up, he hates them but he doesn’t own his own prison. By the time she’s called it in they’re ascending into the midnight sky. They say nothing as they leap from one roof to the next, what they found today on the dealer was one in a disturbing new drug that has been popping up at all the parties around town. Fearless grimaced under his mask and as they entered the storm drain that leads to their home base he could only hope that they found who was manufacturing this stuff quick and hoped that it wasn’t what he feared it was.

“So what do we have?” She walked out of the bathroom into the living room. She wore a bathrobe and slippers; she toweled her hair as she approached him. She was only 5’7 but that didn’t matter in a fight, not with her abilities. “Is it the same stuff?”

He stood over the stove steam rising from a large pot, his 5’11 175lb frame looked awkward cooking dinner. His once white t-shirt had seen better days as had his black sweat pants. His dreadlocks draped over his face obscuring his troubled expression from her. “Yeah, unfortunately.”

“And what is that again?” She walked into her bedroom as the hallway lights danced off of her honey colored skin.

“Human Adrenal Gland.” He was annoyed, he had told her several times, but he swore she asked again just to annoy him. “Which may I remind you is a very bad thing.”

“All drugs are bad, for the most part.” She smiled and walked out of her room wearing boxer shorts, a t-shirt and slippers.

“Yes but this drug came from the body of a living person or a once living person.” He turned off the flame and strained the contents of the pot. Spaghetti and tomato sauce with mushrooms and onions. “Which means that someone is killing living people and harvesting their adrenal glands.”

She began to set the table. “Yeah can we talk about that after we eat?” She poured a glass of water for both of them as he piled spaghetti on her plate and the on his own.

“Yeah sure thing, but talking about it on a full stomach might make you vomit.” He smirked.

“Shush, lets eat.” They began to tear into their meals, protecting the city always made them hungry or her at least. She then stopped and looked across the able at him. “I might not be home tomorrow night.”

He stopped eating and looked up from his plate. “Yeah?” his question had an edge on it that he tried to hide but couldn’t. “So who is he?”

“Why must there be a he?” She pointed her fork at him. “You’re just waiting for me to up and quit aren’t you?”

“No it’s not that, It’s just that we patrol tomorrow night” That was a lie and they both knew it, true it was easier to patrol with two people but he could do it all by himself and had been up until he recruited her for his war on crime in this city. He was jealous, in spite of himself; and he had no right to be.

“Jacob, I don’t hassle you when you’re out with, well…” Erica stopped herself. Malcolm hadn’t been on a social outing since his fiancée Michelle died two years ago. She felt sorry for him and sometimes put off going out to stay around and keep an eye on him. The air of melancholy was constant and very apparent to those who knew him.

“Right, I’m sorry, have fun.” Melancholy must have been plastered all over his face because he moved just in time to avoid a slipper from hitting it.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up about it, that’s my job.” She grinned at him and he couldn’t help but smile back. They continued their meal together unaware that half a mile away someone would be enjoying their last.

Leroy Harper had been homeless for the last two years, he and his wife had become victims of predatory lending and when she moved back in with her mother, he ended up on the street. That was until last month when Dr. Felix Holder opened up a new homeless shelter funded by his own private foundation. Dr. Holder was a successful surgeon who extended his healers hands to the ills of society and sponsored several programs to help those less fortunate. A few months ago Dr.Holder was embroiled in a scandal involving his secretary, his wife divorced him and took his kids. He closed down his private practice and almost vanished from the medical world. The city was given control of his various public works projects. At the Holder House as it was called Leroy enjoyed job training a warm bed, clean clothes and three square meals a day. He had some rough times but things were looking up, nights like these gave him hope. He thought this as he bit into the nights Saul-berry steak, devouring it as he did most of the food there he decided to go to the bathroom and brush his teeth before going to bed. When he got there he noticed that the light was abnormally bright and that the white walls irritated his eyes. He splashed some cold water on his face and took a look in the mirror his own tired reflection was the last thing he saw before everything faded to black.

When Leroy woke up he was lying down and a bright light was pouring into this eyes, he couldn’t feel anything his arms or legs or even his face but he knew something was wrong. He attempted to move and succeeded in moving his head a bit however at that moment he wished he hadn’t because what he saw when looked down was his own stomach opened and on display like a diorama. Though he didn’t feel pain he screamed or attempted to he wasn’t sure if he did, all he heard was the movement of bodies beyond his vision.

“The donor has woken up, put him under.” That was the last Leroy heard before sleeping gas was put over his mouth and administered.

Chapter I: The Concord. 

He walked, it was cold as usual, not blistering, but to him no cold was good. He wouldn't be out here if he didn't need to, but of course, he did. Walking with a cautious step mindful, that no one must see his face, not that any sane soul would travel this way. Still this was no consolation, for this was Winterbourne country and a Winterbourne he was not. They had taken everything and in doing so gained complete control although how they rose to prominence was a mystery, he was sure that his destination would provide a remedy to the cancer plaguing his world. The wilderness swirled around him in the torrent of snow; the howls of distant animals graced his ears. Slowly he entered a hollow wound in the earth. As he went deeper, the freezing cold gave way to a tingle. There was a dim light, which became brighter as he approached. There were rumors that this cave was guarded by something so horrible, the realm of nightmares wouldn’t dare conjure it up. Finally, he reached a cavern, illuminated by a translucent green fluid, hanging from stalagmites. They were like hesitant tear drops, cried by the cave long ago and along with the soft light they gave off there was also warmth. Below, a mirrored pool waited its surface calm, unmoving, beautiful, this was the ‘Fourth Wall’. He blinked at his reflection, his hair had grown, long black locks draping over his shoulders and his eyes, almost feral, were alien to him. How long had it been, since he’d been told about this place? He took a deep breath, pealing off his heavy clothes; he shed them for slender, white collared shirt, black jacket, pants, and gloves. As he prepared to plunge into the liquid below, a sound reverberated through the cave, a sound much like that water moving through strained metal pipes. Was this it, the horrible guardian of the fourth wall?  Jumping back he braced himself, a gale force wind slapped his locks back into his face, followed by a vertical wall of water. It spouted up from the pool and hit the ceiling, Where is it? The liquid hung in the air like a cloud of smoke, if formed a sphere as a light moved across its reflective surface. And then he heard it, the ear splitting screech, followed another gust. He covered his face and tried not to lose his balance, the wind stopped and standing directly across from him was something constructed of his childhood nightmares. It was a deathly gray, bent backward as its head spun in around to observe him, its mouth or what counted for one appeared stitched shut, along with it’s eyes. It jerked around horribly as if it were on the verge of seizure, it’s elbows and knees were bent in the wrong angles and it stank of death, of violence. I’ve come too far to be stopped now.  The young man placed his hands at his sides, took in deep breathes, closed his eyes. The creature reared back ready to lunge toward him, it shook uncontrollably and launched itself over the hole.

Show time, the young man opened his eyes, which were now gleaming silver and a bright flash filled the room.  

Roderick stopped, saved his work, and logged off; he’d been writing this story for as week. It started as a project to relive stress and exercise recommended by his friend Sierra, but now he couldn’t stop as if something compelled him to write, as if he had a duty to tell this story. He walked over to his bed removed his glasses and laid down, it was as if his entire life force went his work, scrawling his dreams on to paper making them real, solid, dense. Sleep now hung on his eye lids; he’d write tomorrow, for now sleep.

He closed his eyes slowly dwelling between the point of reality and the rapid eye movements that awaited him in dreamtime. As his eyes closed he imagined himself in the story he wrote, nothing was different. Same town he lived in, nothing different except he could do what ever he felt like.  He was rattled awake by the sound of footsteps and his eyes shot open. “Who’s there?”  He waited for a reply but none came.

   It’s probably just Avery. He closed his eyes again and tried at a second attempt to go to sleep, and seemed to be succeeding.

   “Roderick”

   “Yes” he whispered. He shook his head.  

   Roderick got up out of his bed, opened the door, and walked into the hallway. “Avery did you call me?”

      “No.” said a loud voice from a door in the middle of the hallway.” You hearin’ things go to bed.”

  Roderick was about to ask his mother but stopped himself when he realized that she was at her boyfriend’s house across town. He closed his door and hit the bed, closed his eyes and hoped that he could get to sleep. And he did.

During the night he’d dreamt of a young man with dreadlocks like his swimming in a tunnel filled with water, no, not water; something else. He was woken up mid dream and seemed to be stricken by sleep paralysis. Of course, the only parts of his body that worked were his eyes and mouth. At the foot of his bed, he caught sight of a young man sitting down.

      “Hello Roderick” the young man dread locks that were covering his eyes.

       Roderick closed his eyes tight and utilizing the ostrich theory he hoped it would be gone when he opened them.

      “Open your eyes” the young man had a wide grin on his face too wide to be human. He wore a T-shirt with a soccer ball on it, blue jeans, and converse. “I’m not going anywhere just yet.”

     “What …I…I…Is it that you want?” Roderick broke into his nervous stutter. 

   “Only to talk”

     Roderick blinked and the young man was sitting in his computer chair. “I'm here to give you what you want.” The figure moved in the chair a bit.

    “What I want?” There were a couple of things that Roderick wanted.

          “I want to escape”

    “Great me too.” The Young man spun around in the chair playfully. “So do you want it or not, what am I saying, of course you do.”

     “How do I get it?”

        “Just shake my hand.” The young man smiled beneath his locks.

            “But I can’t move, sleep paralysis.” Roderick breathed.

            “Yes you can, get up.” The young man motioned for him to rise.

            Roderick bolted up immediately as if by some strange magnetism. “Ok… so we just shake and that’s it?”

            “That’s it, come on.”

          “What do I call you?” Roderick asked

          “It doesn’t really matter because by tomorrow, I’ll be you.” The Young man smiled and his eyes shown a bright silver.

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     Roderick lay in his bed staring at the ceiling. It was 7:00 AM.  A cold sweat coursed down his brow and caused his hair to stick to his face. He looked over at his alarm clock flashing 7:00 and buzzing loudly.
   Why do I keep this thing, all it does is make noise. He slammed his fist down on the snooze button and got up. It was Thursday and school was at 9:00. Roderick put his hair in a rubber band, put on his glasses, walked to his dresser, and stepped over the pile of clothes on the floor. Reaching for the drawer, he took out a pair of boxers and an undershirt.  Opening the second drawer he pulled out a pair of Levis, then shuffled through his bottom drawer looking for a shirt to wear. He picked out a shirt with a fox on it and threw it next to the pants; he then picked up a dirty towel with boxers and undershirt in hand and walked out of his room.

            A few seconds after Roderick left a man two inches shorter than him, but obviously older walked in quietly. Slowly picked up Roderick’s wallet, he removed twenty dollars and crept out again.   

          After ten minutes the door flew open and Roderick walked back in. “Damn it, my hair.” stepping in front of the mirror he attempted to move the wet, matted mess from its entanglement not noticing the small thin crack that formed as he stepped in front of it.

    He walked up to his stereo and hit the Power button as raging guitar riffs and screeching vocals roared from the speakers.

         “Turn that shit off.” A voice lumbered from behind his door and a body followed” Nigga you black. You can’t’ listen to that shit”

          Roderick cringed. The word Nigga cut him like barbed wire.  He hated that word. He also hated his brother Avery the living embodiment of It. Avery rushed through the door. He never approved of Roderick leading the lifestyle he did or the music that came with it. Avery was your typical black stereotype, thuggish, listened to rap, spoke improper English, and was generally negative.

            Roderick never liked Avery, not in sight or in mind. He’d often times wondered why his mother didn’t abort him. He was an accident. 

        Roderick put his clothes on with no hurry and hadn’t even turned to acknowledge his brother shuffling through his drawer for his keys, wallet chain, and MP3 player.

         “You hear me?” Avery’s tone was annoyed.

         “Yeah, but do I care?” Roderick still didn’t turn around.

          “Man whatever” Avery walked out the room slightly angered.

            All the while Roderick hadn’t noticed that his mirror was cracking nor did he notice his reflection moving of its own accord. He turned to get his cell phone from the dresser. He stopped to notice that his reflection was staring at him. Its gaze was cold and distant. 

  “What the hell!?” Roderick stepped forward

     It made no attempt to move, if only to watch him move forward.

      He raised an eyebrow and tried to touch the mirror. At this it moved to match him. The mirror rippled like water and as the reflection reached out the glass bent around its hand.

        “Oh shit!” Roderick Jumped back and hit his bed causing it to make contact with the wall.

        Avery ran into the room “What the fuck happened?”

       Roderick looked at the mirror. Nothing was out of place; his reflection was where it was supposed to be “Uh I slipped...” Roderick looked for something he could have slipped on, he wasn’t in the mood to deal with his brother calling him crazy. “On my socks”

        “Well keep it down.” Avery was attempting to sound like the adult he was supposed to be, rather than the Child he was. “You gonna wake da dog.” He slammed the door behind him.

           Asshole. Roderick got to his feet put on his sneakers then picked up his messenger bag lying on the left side of his bed near the window. He crept passed the mirror regarding it as a sleeping giant. He opened the door and glanced at the mirror quickly to see if anything had changed. But all stayed the same.

     He walked out his door ignoring the loud music and weed smoke coming from his brother’s room then continued down the long hall. Roderick stopped in front of his mother’s room. Natalie kept her room like any other woman. Lots of jewelry, too many clothes with an abundance of shoes. On her dresser was a five-year-old picture of her Roderick at 12 and Avery at 22, right next to the new photo of her and her boyfriend James. There was no indication that his father Malcolm and his mother had been together or that he had a father.  

         Roderick never liked the idea of his mother attempting to erase his father from the family’s collective memory. The methods she used to do so, included but were not limited to letting the phone ring out when ever Malcolm’s name appeared on the caller ID and calling Roderick a cab rather than risk a direct encounter when he visited his father.  

      He stepped out, jogged down the stairs, opened the front door, and left his house.

      Roderick read an old worn copy of the book Vigilance on the bus ride to school. That was coupled with a song rock, which was steadily damaging his eardrums so as not to be disturbed. He sat in one of the single seats to further make sure no one bothered him.  Despite his trying the book failed to hold his attention and his mind teetered between thoughts and dreams, the music as loud as it was only did to mesh both together.

          With heavy eyelids, he glimpsed something like a dog running beside the bus, and then he began to doze off, glasses hanging off of his face.

           “Where are you!?” a loud obnoxious voice behind him broke through the barrier of guitar riffs and into Roderick’s lucid dreaming. “Oh yeah well hurry up I ain’t got all day and I gotta meet Trina to go shopping.”

     Damn, please shut up. Roderick adjusted his glasses and turned his head to glare at the person only to realize it was his brother’s girlfriend Latisha. Roderick tried to look away quickly enough so as not to be noticed but had no luck.

  “Hey, you’re A’s brother right?” her voice was even louder although she sat behind him.    “Uh, yeah… hi” Roderick trailed off and looked away 

     “Yeah well tell him I’m going shopping, so I’m gonna need money.”  She said nonchalantly

       Guess that means he’ll be doing more illegal shit or stealing from mom … not that she’d notice. “Sure. I’ll tell him.” Roderick buried his head in his book.

      Latisha leaned over his shoulder and looked at the yellow pages of the book he was reading. “Damn that book looks old, what is it” she said loudly.

     Roderick winced at the sound of her voice and its volume. “It’s Vigilance; it’s about a young man who goes about saving a city in the mid-west, using the occult.”

     “Oh, that’s for school?”

“No. It’s for me”

“You know, you don’t seem weird” Latisha looked at him somewhat puzzled

   “Excuse me?” Roderick raised an eyebrow.

“Well Avery said you were weird, you’re trying to be white and shit”

  Son of a bitch. “Listen Avery’s a liar with a Peter Pan complex.”

 “What, does that mean?”

   Roderick turned around “It means he’s damn near 30 living with his mother”

  “Naw, you lying, he said he was 22”

    Roderick had enough sense in his head not to try and contest her. Who knows what his brother had said to make himself look good and credible. “You’re right. I am lying. I’m only his brother right?”

     Latisha was quiet for the rest of the ride to school.

          The day went as usual a blur of long speeches about the important part classical literature played in our daily lives, the fact that PIs are squared and not round, and the glory of the rock cycle. How do I endure this everyday? His thoughts time traveled to the figure of a young girl with braided hair, chestnut skin, and beautiful full lips. Oh yeah that’s why. Time was apparently knee deep in a swamp so; it took a considerable amount of time for the day to come to a close. It did however in spite of itself.    

      The hallways were barren except for the few who had tutoring or wanted to be out of the house. Roderick strolled along nodding to those he knew sitting and standing. It was 3:00 and with his classes finished he’d bum around for a while, locate a quite corner to read or a loud open space in which to get lost. Roderick dreaded his house, even its aura was oppressive, and his only alternative was to go to his father’s house. Like he’d be home or crash at Sierra’s and well, that wasn’t doing anything but causing trouble. 

                      “I’m sorry Randy, its over.” The familiar monotone yet feminine voice raised an octave. Roderick turned his head to see the tail end of a bad scene.

          “But Sierra, can’t we just talk a little, I mean, we can work this out.”

          “No, we can’t, you’re too jealous…first you start a fight at the movies, because a guy, who was obviously gay, said he liked my shoes and now you’re accusing me of sleeping with Roderick?”

          “What am I supposed to think, you go out like every night with the guy, to the arcade and then I found out that nigga’s spent the night at your crib?” Randy gave his best thuggish scowl. “I haven’t even spent the night with you.”

          “It’s not like that, his older brother attacked him with a bottle one night and he was afraid to go home.”

            “Well tell that bitch ass nigga to handle his own problems.” Randy yelled.

            “Randy , I don’t turn away friends and when we started dating you told me you had no problem with me having a male best friend.” Sierra crossed her arms and cocked her hip. “And since you’ve shown me you can’t do that, we’re over.”

            Randy turned and walked away, caught sight of Roderick and walked toward him, Randy was four inches tall than Roderick and about forty pounds heavier. “You’re real lucky there are people here right now, because I’d fuck you up.” He breathed heavily . “But if I catch you alone or outside of school, it’s on bitch ass nigga.” With that he pushed passed Roderick and down the hall way. 

            Sierra came up to Roderick and sighed. “Don’t worry about him Roderick he’s all talk.”

            “I’m sorry I was a party to that.” He replied, a melancholy expression plastered on his face. “Maybe we shouldn’t hang out for a while, at least until you two can sort things out.”

            “No, this has nothing to do with you.” She sighed again, her newly braided hair framing her angular mahogany face.  “It’s my bad choice in men, I don’t know why I can’t I ever find one that’s not a jealous, thug with violent tendencies.”

            Roderick shrugged, he didn’t like to think about why Sierra kept dating the wrong guys, mainly because he wasn’t one of them. “It’ll work out for you, look at me, I haven’t been with anyone in…forever.” He allowed himself a bitter laugh.

Sierra had been Roderick’s best friend since he’d first attended Endwater high school. Endwater was the second largest city on the eastern seaboard and had been a trading post for many years. It was divided into five districts; Roderick lived in Endwater Flats a suburb of Endwater city, which was the center of commerce. The three other districts were Endwater sound, which severed as a port fort the City, Endwater Fields which was literally a university island and Endwater Commons. The Commons as they were called was the most dangerous part of the City, where crime was a common occurrence and some people estimated that its residents perpetrated crimes committed outside of it. Sierra was born and raised in the Commons, she’d taken a liking to Roderick a right away enjoying his quit wit and sarcastic humor. Her environment had made her less of a lady and more of a survivor and Roderick respected that, even if it meant that she wouldn’t ever think of him as anything other than a friend. Her type was tall, athletic with broad shoulders, a voice like a base drum, and a carefree swagger. Roderick was 5’7 and as wide as a toothpick, not to mention that his voice was in a perpetual bout with puberty and thanks to a car accident, what could’ve been a carefree swagger was now a nervous shuffle. But she tolerated him, whether for entertainment or out of some slight emotional attachment he could only guess, but he hoped for the latter.

          Sierra looked apologetically at him and then swiftly changed the subject. “So what’s up?”

          “Not much, except I realized that seeing you here is the best part of my day. Roderick exhaled slowly. “I’m now deciding whether I should cry about that now or later.”

            Sierra smirked and slapped him on the shoulder. “Man, you always got jokes.”

            “Yeah, I was thinking of trying stand up.” Roderick said with a tinge of melancholy. She was the brightest part of his day.

            “So are we heading to the chest tonight or what?” The Cyber chest or the ‘Chest’ as it was called was a local arcade, she and Roderick liked to frequent.

“Sure I’m just gonna, take my stuff home, and meet you there.” Roderick adjusted his glasses nervously.

“Ok, I’ll be waiting for you.” She giggled and smiled with just a little seduction behind it. Maybe there was something to Randy’s assumptions.  “I’m going to head home and change.” With that she turned and walked away.

            Roderick stared at her, his forlorn eyes held until, a swift movement to his right caught his attention, a shadow on the periphery of his vision, Must be imagining things, that’s been happening a lot lately.  Traveling down the hall he turned right, making his way into the bathroom. It was cold, the smell of urine filled the air, the once white porcelain walls now marred with graffiti, and the steel stalls were riddled with fake phone numbers and scribbles. Standing in front of a urinal he emptied his bladder, Whew I needed that.  At that moment the hairs on Roderick’s neck stood like soldiers, something had moved past him, fast.

            “Hello.” He turned, zipped up his pants and looked around. What the hell is going on?

            There was no sign of who may have been behind him and if someone was there, I’ve gotta get out of here.  Turning on the sink Roderick lathered up his hands and splashed his face with cold water. Chill out man.  

            “Yeah relax.” The voice wasn’t behind him but in front of him, in the mirror.

            Roderick looked up and came face to face with himself, well a version of himself. His hair was long and he wore stylish wire frame glasses. He had on the same clothes but wore them differently, better. Roderick began to breathe heavily and he shook just a little bit, as his mind attempted to adjust to what it was seeing.

     “I’m losing it right?” Roderick put his hands over his eyes, shaking his head causing his pony tailed locks to bob. “This isn’t happening, a daylight hallucination, like in that movie I saw.”

          “Relax man, you know me, we spoke last night.” The reflection put it’s hands up in a calming motion. “I’m just here to let you know you’re about to be in some trouble.”

          “Trouble. What kind of trouble?” Roderick still cradled his head in his hands but looked up between his fingers. “From where, from whom?”

            At that moment a fist rammed in to Roderick’s jaw nearly lifting him off his feet and knocking his glasses off his face, spinning in slow motion he caught a glimpse of his attacker. Randy, I should’ve known.  He hit the floor with thud.

            “Think I’m gonna let a bitch made nigga like you take my girl.” Randy landed a boot to Roderick’s ribs.

            Tears streamed down his face, as he clutched his side, another followed lifting him off of the floor momentarily, he hit the ground and pathetically groped for his glasses.

            “Get up.” Randy yelled.

            Roderick rolled over to face Randy blood trickling from his mouth, You need help. The voice was so clear in Roderick’s mind so familiar even more so than the pain he felt right now.

            “Help Me,” Roderick whispered.

            “What?” Randy grabbed Roderick by his collar and hoisted him up. “what did you say bitch, You want help.” He delivered a cross to Roderick’s jaw but didn’t let him go, another punch came as Randy began to pummel him.

            You need my help I’m taking over.  At that moment Roderick felt another presence enter his mind and then blacked out.

I finally assembled my new desk. I now have a writer's station, right next to hubby's. But I am so freaking tired. Is this going to be the theme of my posts? I hope not. So in the interest of sharing actual information, I will now say...

I got nuthin'. 

Sorry, so sorry. *yawn* 

Zzzzzz.........

Wow, what a day. Did I mention that I've never written a story? Any story? I know you're supposed to put in 10,000 man hours when you're trying to force out that plot, but today it just wasn't happening. BUT, Borders is going out of business, so I went ahead and took advantage of the clearance sale. I found me a copy of America's Best Short Stories 2007 or something like that. Inspiration, you know. I have ideas for NOVELS in my head, not short stories, so I gotta see how it is done.

There is a book of America's Best Science Fiction Short Stories, but I was reminded about it too late from that awesome geek husband I mentioned earlier. Anyway, I say this to say that even though I haven't actually written anything, I am laying the foundation.

Right now, it is bedtime for the boys, #1 is stressing me to my limit. For some reason, he always gets crazy hyper right before bedtime. Drives me NUTS! #2 is chillaxin', but that has always been his personality.

*breathes deep sigh* Super awesome husband has gone out to get sandwiches, and I am about to crash on the couch. Love you all...g'night.

P.S. I need some short story suggestions, as in what to read to help inspire me.

The Story Context: On a cold day in Brooklyn a father and son take a journey together to cure a cough.They not only encounter obstacles, but they have fun getting past them.

In this scene: "After me and my Dad prepare the veggies and fruits, we juice them and drink to our health. The juice is both delicious and invigorating making us feel stronger and lighter with each gulp". -Saj

To see some examples of the process check out my blog post.

Good day to all, ladies, gents. Thank you for reading my first ever blog post. I feel really stupid right now, nervous, insecure, so bear with me. The time has come for me to become a writer while simultaneously breaking the life time habits of an introvert. Please comment and leave thoughts, tips, whatever. I don't care, just so I know somebody somewhere is reading this. Makes me feel good :D

I'm writing a short story, and my posts will mainly be about how absolutely exhausting and wonderfully time consuming it will be. I may sneak some stuff in about my two sons and my husband, my three children as I like to call them. I'm an awesome black chick with two AWESOME sons (2 and 3), married to an AWESOME black man/sci-fi geek, so maybe some of the ladies can relate to that part, I hope. 

I have God to thank for him, and him to thank for bringing me here, to this place I find myself. Well-loved, cherished, resources at hand, and full of confidence to set forth. So let's go.

(Later on I'll probably add links and tags and photos, but right now I'm so nervous I can't think of anything to attach.)

This is a prologue to a story I'd work on six years ago. It was for a class and it managed to get me a good grade. 

Feel free to read it and give me your honest to god feedback. Thank you and enjoy...

The Start of the Sugaar’s Unforgiving Curse: Prologue to Celestial Avengers

Long ago, on a distant planet known as Esther, there were many tribes that fought amongst each other and waged war against one another. They allied themselves with other Country Lords of their nation, who quarrel, bicker, argue, and debate against each under who should have total rule of the lands in order to expand their nation and their empire to add along with it. These Country Lords have paid the most skilled, trained, and militaristic trained tribes to infiltrate, espionage, assassinate, and attack other tribes in their jest for power, fame, recognition, and glory. The most skilled of the tribes have went along with being paid in order to gain more weapons, tools, and food for them to survive on. The numerous tribes created multiple battles that has caused many chaos, destruction, and bloodshed to give rise. One of the most dangerous of battles was the  “Battle of Puma”, where the infamous Felecia clan was against the Puma clan, to whom both share cat-like abilities but the boil of their ancestry would tear them apart. Their battle took place in the most remote places of places known as the “Muddy Creek”, where their battle suits consisted of corset-like clothing they used for their  battle. Despite the hours of fighting they put up against, the Puma clan eventually lost themselves out to the corset-like wearing Felice and they have officially lost since then. Meaning that the Felice’s name would expand from all around. 
But out of the most formidable and most sinister of them all, is the tribe known as the Sugaars, who resided in the Country of the Dragons. Together, with their descendant tribe, the Maju’s, the snake/serpent hybrid of elves who not only specialize in blade-wielding but also specialize in sealing away deadly opponents through learning the black arts that has been a part of their clan for a long time. Their also some of the very of the clan that can be able to access the full abilities of their ancient treasure that lives inside of them; the deadly eye technique, known as the Zulagan, the “Eyes of the Black Bird of Anzu”. With their powers in the eyes, as well as their ways of being blade-wielding specialist in their field, they aligned with the Sugaars through their leader,  Blazegon Maju, and with their union with the flesh-eating, sky dominating, fire-breathing Sugaars, they pillaged through the land and attack many other tribes with relative ease. Their ring leader, Sugaar Von Sugaar, along with his son Zula, has conquered the sky and attack many other people who has crossed them and decided to stand in their way. They ravaged many other structures and civilization with great ease until eventually they made it all threw way to the “Valley of Whimsical Peak”, where they had many other tribes who allied themselves in the attempts to stop them from conquering the world. Through their vitality, vigor, and the ability to fly, the Sugaars and the Maju defeated the ones who stood in their way and ate their bodies as a way of proving an example to those who dare stand in their way. Sugaar managed to make it all the way to the Sacred Arch Valley and through the many traps set for them, Sugaar Von Sugaar obtained the sacred and powerful orb known as the Orb of the Seven Dragons Gates; which has the power to control all five of the elements and the sixth element known as yin-yang, being able to give birth to imagination and reality as their own leisure. With this orb, Sugaar Von Sugaar became immortal and through his immortality, he obtained four powerful men who rival that of the “Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse” as his fresh new henchmen due to not only their power but also their birthright as being direct descendants of the Seiryuu Dragon itself. They decided that they were destined to rule the world and have gone all across one nation after another in order to cause their destructive path for world conquest. Each and every other commander that has come across them, along with their men, have met their death at the hands of the flesh-eating Sugaars who have terrorized throughout the country where the nations resides and have continued their flesh-eating, massive killing carnage for the sake of doing everything that they so please.  The other council members of other nations realized that the flesh-eating Sugaar’s and the blade-wielding, sealing specializing Maju’s were growing too powerful and that they must be stop at all cost. Through the meeting and  explaining the situation of their dilemma, they decide to create multiple Military Militias that range from left to right. They had many polished warriors become their captain, commander, and even generals and proxy generals. Through their created military and their society, the Council would form themselves to be the organization known as the “Celestial-Heavenly-Justice of Esther” and the Heavenly-Celestial Joint Army of the Saintly Order; an organization made by numerous other surviving nations who allied with themselves and are bent of working together to stop the bloodshed that the Sugaars has created and putting an end to the destructive wars that they’d committed from all around the center of their world. Through their command, the generals and commanders lead their platoons, squadron, and their unit all the way to other strongholds that were taken away by the Sugaars themselves. They succeeded in taking back a few of them and have managed to secure one of the countries that was taken over by the Sugaars.However, just as they made it to the Goa Kingdom, residing in Temper’s Valley, they were overwhelmed by the number of Sugaar and Maju units and armies that were under the direct order of Blazegon Maju, who is later become the father of the major antagonist in the storyline. Blazegon allied with Sugaar Von Sugaar in the attempts to break the curse that Sugaar has cast amongst his family in exchange for helping him conquer the other lands. The commanders found themselves no match against the wicked and military rule of Blazegon as he had his men take down those who dare to oppose them. The Council were seeing such a thing and had no choice but to call forth their strongest asset in the mist of their battle against the Sugaars and the Maju’s; the Seven Saint Archers of Constantine. Together, with their leader, they traveled through the land and attack the Sugaar front hold in the attempts to stop the Sugaars from taking over the world. They were stopped by the forces of Blazagon’s person henchmen, the “Asura Paths of Death”. Through the work of his leadership, they intervened the Saint Archers and did battle with them. With only the results of the battle be left as a mystery. Sugaar, pissed off that his right hand man is no longer with him anymore, went on an bigger flesh-eating carnage and decimating numerous other tactics and raids that were made against him. The council members exhaust every material from the military in order to defeat this man and used every other tactics that exist in order to smash down the man and his loyal followers. The well-known leader known as Colonel William CornWallis was to lead the attack against Arch-Duke Sugaar Von Sugaar and make sure that they take him down in very way that they can. The men that followed with him were able to defeat a great number of the army that serves under Arch-Duke Sugaar Von Sugaar. As soon as William CornWallis finally comes face to face with Sugaar Von Sugaar, it was a very long and intense battle. Despite his best efforts and the very long battle that was along with it, William unfortunately met his hands at the end of Sugaar’s flesh-eating intent and eventually was eaten up in the result of it. With no more of their well-known and famous leader, the men were going to suffer the same fate as their brave leader has and throughout the whole battle in itself, they were sacrificed to the number of other Sugaars who were still alive and sought revenge against their enemies for trying to do them in. The sight that  most have seen was unbearable and many of those who survived were to be scarred for live for such images that they had to see and hopefully be able to retreat and survive, long enough to tell the council what has happened to them and their famous, well-known leader known leader known as “William the Hero”. This news was to shock a certain mother who loves her husband and her first born son as well. Having to deal with such sad turmoil that was displayed horribly across the battlefield.  Just when all hope seems lost, just from the jest of nowhere, four mighty, strong, courageous men came forth to the battlefield of the Sugaar stronghold residing in the Country of the Dragons, in order to  fight against the creatures who has pillaged their land. The four men came from the tribe known as Ken Slayer; the Tiger tribe that is best known for their immense strength, stamina, and regeneration, came forth to challenge the Sugaar and put an end to the carnage that they’d begun from across the land. Sugaar Von Sugaar sent forth his four best men to deal away with them, but as soon as they challenged the leader of the four men, Amon, they were easily defeated. Amon than presented the Orb of the Tiger's Paw and challenged Sugaar Von Sugaar to the battle of the death. Seeing his men defeated in such a matter, forced the man to come down and challenge the leader of the group himself. He acknowledged him an a mighty person, and it was because of this claim, is why he decided to put an end to them and kill them all. Amon had his men fall back as this was to be a battle of leaders. They got started with their battle and Sugaar used the Orb of the Seven Dragon’s Gates to summon the legion of storms at his side in order to do great damage against his opponent. Amon was strong enough to withstand the wicked storms that Sugaar created, thanks to the power of the Orb. He used all of his “Death-Swirl” series and caused great earthquakes to happen in order to further do damage towards his enemy. Therefore helping him win the battle. Both of them went at with everything they had, not backing down with what they believe in. Finally it was down to the final bout and both of them were at their last ounce of strength. Just as they were both about to use their final moves against one another, they both vanished, leaving only their treasures behind. Zazel Ken Slayer took command as leader for his old leader's status, took possession of both the orbs, and presented it to the Alliance in any hopes of being able to create peace and reconciliation. The other Elders and Country Lords went through the negotiations with them in any hopes of being able to show them the ways of their society and what they plan to succeed in teaching for the better good of mankind in itself. Through the reconciliation and reconstruction stage, they managed to come forth with a successful negotiation that would involve making further peace with the land and being able to make fair trades with numerous other counties for their pavements and for what else they hope to achieve in the result of it as well. Zazel and the other Ken Slayers held a special meeting with the other Country Lords of the Alliance and have asked that they would have partition for their tribe to attend the next summit, should the next country summit meeting were to begin and would involve other leaders to be part of the summit meeting as well. Through their higher authorities, they have decided to go along with it and have them partitioned for the next summit that is yet to happen. With the orb no more in the possession of its ruler, the Sugaars were forced to live in the corners of their country as punishment for their war crimes and for other persecutions that they were tried for as well. They were exiled by the Elder's Spells of confinement as punishment for their war crimes, their wrong doing, and the amount of damage that they have caused amongst the land. Making sure that they don't try to do the same thing like they did before. Around the time of the post-war, when other countries were doing their best to repair everything that destroyed, the rescue team known as the “Yon-Daemon-Omani”, which was led by the son of Blazeagon Maju, Hallde the name, was making it all the way to where their old teammate was. By the time they make it there, what they saw has left in them such a shock that none would want to ever want to consider to this to the wide public; knowing that such an epidemic would only cause severe and destructive damage from all around. The son of Sugaar Von Sugaar himself, has horrifying raped the holy priestess of the Maju Tribe known as MariVella, an in the result of it has created the hybrid of the flesh-eating, flying Sugaars and the blade-wielding, sealing specialist Majus. Just as Hallde could finish him off, the son of Sugaar suddenly has vanished, saying his last words that the world will know true terror cause now the hybrid of destruction, annihilation, and conquest was brought upon the world and will soon rule the world of Esther, like the Sugaars assured that he would. Wanting to protect the child and the person that he loves, Hallde has made a hard choice that would affect the whole entire course of history as it is.  About twenty years has passed and mysteriously, the Ken Slayers  have vanished, without so much as a trace of them left. This has reached the other Country Lords that were part of the “Celestial-Heavenly” Alliance as they were going to have them attend at the upcoming Summit meeting that involved the rising problem of the Sugaar hybrid itself. Just as the epidemic has reached the masses, suddenly the persecuted Sugaar and their nation, has mysteriously vanished as well. Just when all things were at a stir due to this disappearance of these major tribes, a dark and illuminating shadow awaits for the time to reveal a diabolical plan,  plan that’ll change just about everything in the world of Esther. It was around that time that the Majus, the snake/serpent tribe that has shared many characteristics with their Sugaar ancestry, were also slaughtered brutally at the time due to a horrifying event that went down, such as a traitor of their own tribe and nation and has caused animosity and stir amongst the other nations due to how dangerous this event was and how many people were killed in the process. The mysterious figure smiles under the shadows; seeing that everything was going according to plan and that sooner or later, the time to regain control over Esther all over again will soon be at hand and that it can rule the rule the world once again like before.  This is a story about two boys who are to know who their heritage is and find a way to break the curse that was cast amongst the world of Sugaar. Whether they will work together to find a way to beat this curse or fall victim to the curse’s unforgiving effect, will depend on the choices that they make, the future of others that depend on them, and the character of their nature as well. This is the story known as “Celestial Avengers”. Now, without further ado, let the story begin with the first of the chosen two...the one known as Horus.

Hi Everyone,

I would like to give some information. I Know a lot of you would like better internet ranking online. I felt in the spirit of giving I should give Black Science Fiction Society this eBook called Google Juice. Google Juice is a book on internet marketing and social media. It's great resource and we all should read. Check it out here @ Google_Juice_Final.pdf

Peace!

Ever have the feeling that children today know nothing about history and what matters from the past?

How far would you go to change that? 

"Well Wishes," my contribution to Out of Our Minds: Tales from the Comics Experience, asks those questions of Denny Gallows, a milquetoast librarian who is just waiting for the clock to strike nine...

The story was written for The Comics Experience's "Introduction to Comic Book Writing" course taught by Andy Schmidt. Aspiring comics writers and artists should check out Andy's course offerings at http://www.comicsexperience.com. Andy's classes represent another way to network in a notoriously insular business, particularly if you participate in the Writers' Workshop. Andy routinely has comics professionals participating, so you could actually get your story critiqued by the likes of writers like Peter David.  

I'd like to think that the "The Twilight Zone"-inspired story is entertaining (if you don't agree, feel free to keep your opinion to yourself!), but I know that its stunning artwork is arguably its greatest strength. Silvio dB is a phenomenal Brazilian artist based in Recife. We advertised for artists on a number of boards and Silvio was my immediate choice. See why at: (http://silviodb.daportfolio.com/ or http://silviodb.deviantart.com/). My letterer, recommended by a contributor who lives in Australia, lives in the UK, so the story you will find below is a truly international production!

In case you didn’t know, my first novel in the Osguards series, Homecoming, received ‘Honorable Mention’ at the 2011 Hollywood Book Festival Contest. My wife, Karen and I, flew out to receive the award on the weekend of July 22, 2011. We were excited. It was our first award, and we were riding on the national 5-star review from Midwest Book Review. We felt like teenagers going to the prom.

We arrived at the airport, bright and early that Friday morning. We were booked on Air Tran, with one stop in Milwaukee. That’s when the trip from hell began. To make a long story short, I am 6’4.5” inches tall and my height is mostly in my legs. So I always ask for, and usually receive either an exit row or an aisle seat. The flight was full, so in order to do this, Karen and I had to be separated. After 30 minutes and $40 to check two bags, we received our tickets. Even though I had an aisle seat, the problem was, it was the last seat in the plane against the back bulkhead, meaning the leg room was cut in half. Plus the armrest did not lift, so I couldn’t swing my leg out in the aisle. This was painful. Luckily, Karen switched seats and was able to sit next to me on the first leg of our trip.

On the second leg, I was able to get an exit row, but Karen was unable to switch seats and sit next to me. Instead, I sat next to a rude man who upon landing began smoking an electronic cigarette. It looked real, so I said something. Well, I guess I left my diplomatic voice in Washington D.C. and he was already rude, so let’s just say the exchange was brief, but not polite.

Then upon arriving at LAX, I found my suitcase drenched. The few books, I carried with me for display during the ceremony and festival, were wet. I tried to lodge a complaint, but the baggage attendant kept calling it water condensation and claimed there was no damage. We had four hours to get our rental car, check into the hotel, get dressed and leave for the ceremony, so I dropped the complaint and left.

Yet, when we arrived at our hotel room, we pulled our clothes out of the bag, and they were soaked. I know it was raining in Milwaukee, but our bags looked like someone dumped them in a swimming pool and left them there for two hours. Rain should not have soaked all the way through the bag. Needless to say, my blood pressure must have jumped 20 points. I called the airlines and received no satisfaction. They wanted me to go back to the baggage attendant at LAX and lodge a complaint. Been there…done that…and got jack-squat!

Luckily the hotel was able to dry and press our clothes in two hours and I took the blow dryer from the bathroom and attempted to dry the books -- page by page. I also tried to salvage our promotional flyers. After two hours, I had two raggedy, but dry books and a handful, out of 500, flyers. We chose the best looking book to display at the awards ceremony, slipped the handful of flyers in my pocket, and left -- no longer feeling like teenagers going to the prom. When I put my book out for display, alongside the other winners, I almost felt like screaming. But I held my head up high and proceeded to mingle with the other authors.

When it was my turn to accept my award, I ended my acceptance speech with the quick story on how the airlines ruined our books and almost ruined our evening. I compared what our bags went through to the classic T.V. luggage commercial of a gorilla in a cage throwing suitcases around.

Well the rest of the evening was flawless, exciting and we met award winning authors from around the nation. The feeling of two teenagers at the prom soon returned. The next day at the festival was also good. The trip was well worth the agony. I also learned a lesson…carry-on…carry-on…carry-on.

But the feeling did not last long. On the way home, the ticket agent stuffed me in the window seat during both legs of the flight. Even after four days, my knees are still in pain. Maybe next time I win an award, I will shoot for First Class. I certainly won’t fly Air Train.

Malcolm D. Petteway,

Author, Osguards: Guardians of the Universe

Owner, Rage Books LLC

www.ragebooks.net

1.866.448.2585

SPRING
Chapter 2 - Spring on the Easter Seaboard

We started south after we passed through West Freehold in northern Jersey, the people there were as always, downright unsociable folk. Not saying they did not have reason to be cautious. This area was frequented by roving bands who escaped the fall of New York. It is one of the stranger things about the Arrival, that thousands of predator trees landed in the major metropolitan areas of Earth. It wasn't as if they targeted the cities, but for some reason the creatures found their way to major population centers if they didn't initially land there. So people were attacked both while they fled cities from the creatures at their back and once again by alien hordes coming into cities. This increased fatalities three fold in the earliest hours of the Arrival.

Survivors fell into three categories. Builders, people who found ways to turn the wealth of the Old World into a means of survival, building new much smaller walled cities and growing what they can when they can, raising animals if they are able to find them. The Feral, groups of humans who barely maintain any semblance of their humanity. They vary in technological competence from military effectiveness to dirty bands scrambling to live off the land or anyone not strong enough to protect themselves. And then there are the Moving. That's us. Our band is much smaller than most, right now, its just our family group, but we often join up with other Movers for protection in dangerous areas, sharing resources, ideas or helping Builders with the restoration of some of the Old World. The difference between the Movers and the warlike Ferals is we choose to move and choose to be non-violent if we can help it.

At West Freehold, we traded non-potable water for our vehicle's fuel cells. We would sterilize it later and make sure it was particle free when we had some time. We also managed to get some tough nu-potatoes and traded some high density batteries for their short range stunners used for hunting and repelling undesirables. For some canned extras, likely plundered from the major cities where no one would be willing to live, we gave them a windup radio we plundered from the outskirts of New York. There are still emergency broadcasts made on occasions depending on where you lived in the country. There is no effective government anywhere on Earth. Each area works to establish whatever can pass for a government and they seem to last for a while but almost always decay or are destroyed by Ferals or increasing populations of the predator trees or their other symbiotic life forms. It seems as soon as our populations start to increase in an area, word gets out and that area becomes more attractive to the aliens.

With the next bit of the road being some of the toughest, potatoes and other grub would be in short supply while we made the first dogleg south. We would make a stop in Philadelphia since there was a strong and thriving human community there. The trip to Philadelphia was long and circuitous because of the lack of decent roads in this part of the country. With building materials in short supply and active predators on the road, the people managed to build a decent barrier around the center of the city and do their best to keep it clear of the predator trees and their ilk.

We usually make a quick stop there, just long enough to trade some mail, rearm and if there was someone who needed passage south and can pay, we could take up to two more. Hopefully they could use a gun because this part of the route gets a bit hairy after Philly. Our route takes us from New York to the former capital in Washington DC. The direct route to the capital from Jersey would have taken a much shorter pathway but the roads were destroyed early in the offensives against the predator trees and their symbiotic allies by bombing runs. The roads were simply too effective at allowing the fastest of the creatures to move, so many were destroyed. It was against these very creatures we had to prepare for now. We called them tumblers. Scientists gave them some scientific name but what they resembled more than anything were tumble weeds. Except these did not roll harmlessly though old ghost towns. And they almost never rolled alone.

Our vehicle which doubled as our home, was full at the moment with my wife Martha sitting in the top turret, manning a fifty caliber rifle which had been added to our heavy vehicle, a military fast attack vehicle released at some point around 2013 called the Rhino. She is over sixty but a natural when it came to using the weapon. Who would have thought. We found the Rhino outside an army base that had been overrun a few years ago, and with just a few days were able to figure out how to load the fifty-cal and use it. Up until then, we had been using a solar assisted RV but it had been trashed by Ferals who had chased us onto that base. It had been small enough to have been missed by them and our luck had been to find active stockpiles of weapons still protected from the environment.

The vehicle resembled a Jeep except it was twice the size with none of the vulnerability. Hardened armor with the ability to add or subtract heavier armor plating we decided to ditch everything except for the lightest armor. We did not expect to run into any grenades, tanks, RPGs or bombs. Not too often at any rate. If it came to that, we would count on our speed and maneuverability to win the day. And the fact that Martha was a crack shot with the .50-cal.

Designed to be used by fast attack crews, it was designed exactly for our current lifestyle. Keeping it in ammo was the hardest part since the vehicle had been designed to run on a variety of power sources. It could be charged using plug in or generator electricity, it had a backup gasoline engine and had rechargeable and replaceable fuel cells. The greenest and cheapest method of keeping it powered was using the solar film and electrical system on the outside of the vehicle. Lucas, my grandson told me the vehicle was covered with a multiple layered solar mesh designed to capture solar radiation completely and super-efficiently. He said the mesh would reroute energy even if it took small arms fire damage. Then he mentioned something about nano repair capabilities and I stopped listening. The boy continued on for another ten minutes before he realized I wasn't listening.

It also had solar blankets which could be set up to enhance its recharge rate when it wasn't moving. With two hours of sunshine we could move at low speeds of fifteen to twenty miles per hour for over six hours. And if the sun shone on it while we moved, we could conceivably drive all day. We would stop two to four hours before sunset, so it could gather and recharge if we had to move at night. It offers us a good eight to ten hours of travel every day, so if we are not in a rush, we can travel almost entirely without using any of the harder to get fuels such as water or even rarer these days, gasoline. Setting up the solar blankets was generally only done when we were safe since they took time to lay down and pick up. We hadn't figured out a quick way to deploy or retrieve them yet and they were simply too vital to risk.

Their kids, Sharon and Lucas were riding in the back of the vehicle manning the two electronic gun ports. Using a sensor array and a display system they targeted the two swiveling guns on the side of the vehicle. The guns were targeted with six electronic eyes on the hull and a laser targeting system to enhance accuracy. It required a steady hand and a sense for shooting while moving. None of us like to admit it but the kids used them far better any of us old people. But to keep everyone on their toes, we all spent time using them and using to shoot our collection of rifles, machine-guns and hand guns and no one went anywhere unarmed or unescorted. Ever. The gun ports were accurate to about three hundred and fifty feet, making them our preferred method of violent problem solving since the 5.56 ammo they used was much easier to replace than the much more precious .50 caliber ammo.

During our normal operations, I was the rear door gunner. The vehicle offered the option of firing from a gun port at the back. It was not very large, so you had to be a good shot. And for any long range shooting, I was even with my slowly diminishing eyesight, the best shot of my family. But we always rotated the duties to make sure everyone stayed familiar with all of the weapons and their idiosyncratic behaviors.

My daughter's husband, Marcus, was driving and kept a fully loaded Colt Anaconda in his lap. He was very good with it and could shoot and drive at the same time, if he needed to. Since the Rhino had bulletproof windows, it was often better to keep them up in hostile territory. My daughter, Linda rode shotgun and used a fully loaded military combat shotgun. Army surplus was all over the country and no one to tell her she couldn't carry it. She had years of practice with it.

Our plundering of military facilities over the decade since the Arrival, has given us access to a wide array of military technology and we dressed the part, carried the gear and understood the language. We spent at least two summers training with military survivors who had the good sense to run when the Arrival started looking like a rout. They were hard on themselves but after a few years facing the enemy, it was clear, they were numerous, terrifying and deadly. It is only because we are very careful and exercise cautious thoughtful interactions we have survived where more heavily armed troops died. We had two rules: Rule One: think before you shoot. Rule Two: Bullets don't always solve problems. Shoot sparingly.

You would think we should have more rules, but living out here as a Mover, you learn too many rules makes it hard for you to be able to think on the fly. Since the Arrival, more creatures have begun to appear as the well fed predator trees continue to grow in size and strength. There are places now where the predator trees tower over one hundred feet tall and have whole ecosystems springing into being at their roots. With new creatures appearing every day, we have to be able to observe, learn and tailor our tactics. Having survived for ten years out here, our reputations as couriers, messengers, escorts and scouts ensured we were well paid, well respected and depending on who you asked, just a little feared. We didn't promote violence, but we certainly had an awareness of situations which might go south on you and a knack for handling violence effectively and permanently.

The world was now a very dangerous. It was no place for the stupid or the weak. Which meant knowing one more thing important thing if you planned on surviving. If you met any human on the road who had been there for a while, consider them the most dangerous thing you can run into. Yes, predator trees and their kin were always dangerous, but with humans you might drop your guard. That is a good way to end up with your throat slit. When consorting with humans, be even more careful than you are against any Arrival. Humans were simply too unpredictable with the fall of their world.

Leaving Philadelphia, we did not pick up any riders, but we did get a load of mail and goods needing to go to DC. The capital city was gone, completely overrun, but the Pentagon survived and continues to operate in a limited capacity as a hub of military deployment and intelligence regarding the Arrivals. Using brute force, the military keeps a clear path into and out of the city and what is left of the functioning government is found there. This government is in name only since it has very little economic, social or political clout. Since every other world power is functioning under the same handicap, the Arrivals have made the world a very equal place again.

Rumor has it we may get to meet the President with our latest deliveries. As we are leaving Pennsylvania, something seems wrong and Marcus stops as we approach the state line. I see it too.

"Pop, there is more blue than green. More black too." He pointed to the trees overhanging the road. They were not the symbiotic predator trees, they seemed to be more of the kudzu variety. Kudzu trees were capable of emitting a stupefying spore, which causes creatures to breath it and fall into a deep sleep. While sleeping the kudzu would have vine-like tendrils grab their prey wrap it up and consume it. Their only blessing was they could not move. Once rooted, they depended on prey moving toward them. They could also replicate other smells. I can personally attest to the smell of peanut butter, chocolate cookies, steak, pizza, and mangoes as part of their scent library. I am certain they can do others. One man said he was witness to a tree that could smell like the finest Chardonnay.

"Put your masks on. Check your filters. Go slow and lets see it a bit closer." After everyone was set, we moved up until we could identify more clearly what we were seeing.

My daughter, bless her sharp eyes, whispered, "tumblers."

Marcus stopped the car immediately and turned off the engine. Martha cleared the barrel for the .50. The kids cycled the long range gun ports. I grabbed two grenades from our stores, noting we had only fourteen left. This was supposed to be our supply stop.

I could see what had happened to the convoy. They did not notice the new black additions to this grove. If they had, they would have known that tumblers had taken up residence. Tumblers were fast growing, dangerous mobile seed pods. They could move on their own, without the need of wind. They attack prey they believe they can bring down, blasting it to bits with its own organic shrapnel with the force of a grenade. Tumblers attack in waves, with the earlier waves bringing down the food and later waves consuming it and bringing it back to the host trees. "I don't know what to think right now. I don't see any stragglers, so they may have already killed and eaten their fill. But that doesn't seem right. There are an awful lot of tumbler trees here. Far more than this tiny road should be supporting."

Martha looked down into the cab and said, "You don't think they may have grown in response to the Pentagon? It's the only thing that looks like a city nearby."

"If we are want to know, we need to go in on foot. The Rhino is only going to attract them. So who is staying here?" I will say this about my clan, their curiosity always gets the best of them. No one wanted to be left behind.

"Marcus, I need you here, Martha, he needs you on the .50. Back it up about a mile and set up a perimeter. You still have two of the small laser ranging bots. Put them out and keep your radio handy. Turn it on, every thirty minutes for two minutes. When we know more we will call in. Before you pull out, check for salvage here."

Everyone got their kit. One grenade, three clips of ammo, one small arm, with two additional clips. Masks and five filters good for eight hours apiece. So we have a day and a half to figure out what happened here. As we surveyed the military vehicles, there was food, water and weapons here, so they left in a hurry. There were tumbler explosions on all of the vehicles, low and into the wheel wells. Organic matter was caked up around every explosion. The only upside in dealing with tumblers is they are volatile and prone to explosion, so if you shoot at them and hit them, they tend to blow completely up and detonating their neighbors. This can work against you if you are amid their population when you start shooting.

Moving quickly and quietly we salvage the vehicles and the Rhino backs down the road. There is always that feeling of nakedness whenever the Rhino pulls away and we are not on board. But we had to know what had happened here; this was one of our primary drops and resupply points. If it was lost, the spiritual head of our government was dead too. We set out knowing it was at least a ten mile hike to the Pentagon from here; a hike through an area reclaimed by nature and the new Arrivals.

It was going to be a long walk.

"Adventurous white folks joined long, dark lines to get into the 'black-and-tan' clubs, which daringly welcomed an integrated clientele. The pre-fight partying extended to whites-only establishments as well, where revelers raised numerous toasts to a champion who would not have been allowed past the front door had he desired to join the festivities."  So reads a paragraph that serves as a prelude to the scathing boxing match between black boxing champ Jackhammer Jackson and the Nazi ubermensch, Wolf Krieger, in DAMBALLA, Charles Saunders' wonderful new novel, published by Airship 27 Productions. This is pulp fiction at its best -- and who knows the world of boxing better than Charles Saunders?  But this is much more than an old-school, action-adventure story. DAMBALLA has all the elements of film noir and hard-boiled detective stories. It has Nazis and gangsters, and a real sense of time and place--1938 Harlem. There is also a serious subtext dealing with bigotry and racism, performance-enhancing drugs, and is also a reflection of America's past, and in many instances, our present, as well. Saunders has created the first black, crime-fighting superhero in pulp fiction, a true brother to The Shadow, The Avenger, and The Green Lama.  It's history and history-making, superbly told and well-written, with enough twists, turns, and surprises to keep you turning the pages.  Bravo, my friend! Bravo!

 After a few tweaks and my Partner Eric's supervision we have The GALTOW poster by Jay Aguilera! In the online store

Along with a sale on the Fantastic Keylon Jakes statue by Eric Nocella Diaz for just $40:

http://xmoor.bigcartel.com/