Virtus the Indomitable

            “I have always been efficient and always on schedule. I need you to know this, so when tell you I have only failed once, you will understand the significance”

            In the ancient times great kings would have their warriors compete for glory and honor. The best warriors of the land would strive for victory in single combat. These fights were not always to the death, but they were still brutal. One combatant stood out for his sheer force of will and indomitable spirit. This warrior was named Virtus.

            Virtus fought for glory and honor like the other warriors but he also fought with a goal and determination to reach that goal. Virtus was from a small village, a village that was always plagued by bandits and raiders. The poor villagers did not have much to spare even before the bandits attacked. So Virtus grew up fighting, trying to protect his village. He felt responsible for the entire village even as a youth, so he would fight the raiders and even though he lost more than he won, he still fought on to show the human vultures of that land that his village was not easy prey. Virtus spent his life as the guardian of the village and as the years passed he grew up tall and strong. By the time he was a full-grown man he had as many scars on his body as he had muscles. The elder of the village told Virtus to leave and find a future for himself, as many of the villagers worried that protecting a few cattle and some grain would be his entire life. While everyone in the village felt blessed to have Virtus they knew it wouldn’t be right to let him shoulder the burden of the whole village by himself. So with a heavy heart the Elder of the village forced Virtus to leave. It wasn’t banishment but it was pretty close.

            It didn’t take long for Virtus to discover the capital city and its giant gladiator arena that hosted fights every day and drew in crowds from all across the land. Once Virtus heard about the fame and gold that could be earned in the arena he made a promise to himself that he would become the champion of the arena and return to his village with enough gold to hire soldiers and repair the homes and farms. Virtus had once again put the people of his village back onto his shoulders and was determined to carry them to prosperity. Virtus was an orphan and when no one would care for him, it was the village and the elder that took him in when he was a small boy wondering the desert by himself.

            Virtus fought with the ferocity of a lion during his time in the arena. As his number of victories grew he also accumulated nicknames and titles such as Indomitable Virtus and the Iron demon. He was called Iron demon because Iron was the strongest metal available and Virtus seemed un-killable like a demon would be.

            Virtus roared with each swing of his sword, he swung his weapon wildly to throw his opponent off balance then rammed hard with his shield. The force of the strike broke the ribs of the enemy gladiator and the poor soul collapsed on the ground. Virtus yelled a guttural roar as the crowd cheered. Most fights would end quickly with the result always the same. Virtus standing victorious as his opponent lay dead or injured in the dust and sand. When Virtus did fight a powerful enemy the fights would last much longer, sometimes going on for hours until Virtus opponent collapsed from exhaustion. Whenever Virtus lost his breath, sustained injuries or was bleeding all over the arena, his inner drive would push him to continue. He would never back down and he would never fall to anyone.

            Virtus was indomitable, fierce, strong willed and some believed he could not be killed, but he was a mortal despite what the arena patrons thought. Virtus died at the age of one hundred and twenty seven. He died while severing the king’s head from his shoulders. Virtus was mid-stroke with his sword, he had cleaved the King’s head straight off when a spear was driven through Virtus back, impaling him and going through his torso. This spear impaling was the final blow that killed him, but he had already sustained injuries from sword cuts and stab wounds and  burns from a flaming arrow that struck his shoulder.

            The castle was in chaos as Virtus let out his last breath and fell to the stone floor next to the headless king. Virtus spirit stood above his body and watched as the soldiers continued to fight against the rebels that were led by Virtus. The show was interrupted for Virtus when a black-cloaked figure glided into the room. The world of the living melted away and only darkness remained. Death stood before Virtus and lifted a skeletal hand. “You have brought so much death that even I am impressed with your skills, but your time is over. Come with me” Echoed the voice of death. Virtus gritted his teeth “I follow no one!” Virtus shouted and charged at the grim reaper.

            The spirit of Virtus grappled with the spirit of death itself. Virtus inner strength and will counted for just as much in the spirit world as it did in the mortal world. The Grim reaper was the master of death but struggled to keep Virtus at bay. The indomitable spirit fought Death for decades. Since time did not pass in the spirit would a decade of fighting would not have affected the mortal realm. The battle ended when Virtus wrestled Death’s scythe from the clutches of Death. Virtus struck the Grim reaper with its own weapon and send the spirit of Death to the afterlife. Death was banished from that realm in between the mortal world and the afterlife. The spirit world or Limbo was now the domain of Virtus.

            Death’s scythe vanished in a cloud of black smoke seconds after Death was thrown from this plane of existence. Death had no trouble navigating the afterlife and finding his way back to Limbo. When Death returned to the spirit world Virtus was gone, he had escaped back into the mortal realm and was reborn into the world as a baby of a merchant’s wife.

            Virtus lived as a son of a merchant unaware of his past life as a gladiator or his battle with Death. Virtus didn’t even know his original name and when he was born back into the world he was given the name William Merchant. William grew into a strapping young man who had more strength and determination than anyone else in town. William had a nice childhood and had no reason to have an unshakable will and the urge to fulfill his goals, but he had the spirit of Virtus and while he had no memory of his former life, his past was permanently marked on his soul and every incarnation of Virtus would have the same Indomitable will as the original Virtus. Some incarnations were more violent while others were more peaceful

            William Merchant grew up to be a successful sailor and merchant and when his ship was taken by the king for unpaid taxes, William became a pirate who targeted the kings royal ships and any merchant who vowed loyalty to the king. William wasn’t just any pirate, he became the most feared and successful pirate who had ever lived. He eventually died when he ship in a head on collision with the King’s military flagship. William had left his entire crew back at town and sailed the ship himself with hull full of gunpowder and dynamite. When William’s ship collided with the King’s flagship the gunpowder was ignited torches lit directly above the gunpowder barrels. The explosion killed the top general and his best men as well as destroyed the front half of the flagship.

            Virtus’ spirit evaded the Grim Reapers grasp every time one of his incarnations died. Virtus spirit lived on through dozens of humans over the ages.

“It was the only time I ever failed. Virtus was the only soul I never collected” Explained Death. The grim reaper stood looming over a fourteen-year-old boy, Death’s voice boomed and echoed through the air. “ Why are you telling me this?” John Pharris the boy who survived the grave wagon attack and the only human who could walk freely through the haunted forest. “I am telling you this because Virtus’ spirit fuels the Grave Wagon, and I cannot stop it” Explained Death. John’s eyes went wide and he felt like he had been kicked in the stomach, he took a step backward and fell backward landing on his butt. The ground was cold and hard, the dark green grass prickled at him through his pants. Death over John, they both were in the deepest and darkest part of the Haunted forest, a second of the forest that was reserved for Death and no mortal or monster had ever entered. “If you can’t beat him, how am I supposed to beat him? How is anyone supposed to beat him?” Asked John is disbelief.

            Death crouched down and sat on a tree stump. “You need to face the Indomitable will with your own equally unwavering spirit. Use the magic that the Grave Wagon gave you” Death explained.

            John looked up at Death “where does this magic come from?” He asked as he touched the shadowy side of his face. “I’ll tell you but it will be another long story” Death replied.

Note: Thanks for reading!! I hope to finish my Halloween series by Halloween night. I hope everyone is enjoying the grave wagon stories. I also plan to write stand alone stories about Virtus life and William Merchants life, as I thought they were really interesting after I wrote them but had to gloss over their lives to tell the larger story.

Skeleton picnic 2 I mustache you a question

            It was a cold dark night in the haunted forest, ghosts moaned in the distance, rustling could be heard in every direction and occasionally a menacing laugh would echo through the trees. The Haunted Forest used to be part of the Autumn forest, which was a forest full of life and eternally stuck in autumn. The whole Autumn forest had towns, animal life, brightly colored flowers and autumn colored leaves on every tree. Then a necromancer built an awful spire of evil magic on the western most end of the autumn forest. The corruption from his undead soldiers and evil magic twisted the trees and brought spirits up from the netherworld. After the Necromancer’s defeat the haunted forest remained cursed and haunted.

 

            Soldiers brought a powerful mage to heal the haunted forest  and while they successfully drove out the spirits in the southern edge, the forest never returned to its full beauty. So the humans of the Autumn Forest grew to know their neighboring forest to the west as the Haunted forest and the southern edge of the haunted forest became known as the Dark Forest. The Dark Forest was no longer haunted or cursed by magic, but the trees were black as coal and never grew bigger or bloomed with flowers or leaves. This is important because in order to survive a trip to the haunted forest, someone would have to be as fearsome and powerful as the forest itself.

 

            On that cold dark night in the haunted forest a figure casually walked along a broken path. The figure had its hood up and stood about five and a half feet tall. The figure stepped into a clearing to find a group of skeletons all mashing their teeth and guzzling down beans and wine. This event was some sort of picnic for skeletons.

 

            The figure watched for several hours, fascinated by the sight. It wasn’t a well known fact that skeletons were in fact quite social. The figure stepped out into the clearing and was instantly noticed by the entire group. The figure stepped forward. The figure was a boy, wearing a blue hooded sweatshirt, track runner pants and casual white and black sneakers.

 

            “Sorry kid, humans aren’t allowed!” Shouted one of the skeletons. The whole picnic of skeletons turned to look at the boy and some of them stood up menacingly. Bob the skeleton, who had organized the picnic, stood up and walked calmly over to the boy. “Excuse me, how did you find this place?” Bob asked calmly as his fellow skeletons seemed angry and confused at a human visiting their picnic.

 

            The boy had pale skin and the hood from his sweatshirt hid half of his face. He had short dark brown hair and one visible eye that was a striking blue. “I am searching for something, the forest…” The boy stopped and chose his words carefully. “The forest, led me here. It let me in. Trees moved out of my and apologized when I bumped into them” Explained the boy. A look of fear washed over the entire group of skeletons. “W-what are you?” Asked Bob who tried to stay calm but was so nervous his totally real and not fake mustache almost fell off.

 

            “I-I don’t know” Replied the boy. He sounded sad and confused. He stared down at the floor in shame. Bob realized that this boy might have parted the most dangerous forest in the land, but he was still just a boy and seemed lost as well. Bob patted the boys shoulder with his skeletal hand. Bob’s skeleton fingers felt hard and weren’t very comforting. The slender bones of each finger provided no warmth or softness, it was like trying to comfort someone by placing a bare tree branch twigs over their shoulder.

 

            The boy looked up at Bob and smiled. Though a skeleton hand isn’t comforting the kind gesture was. Bob was pleased and placed his hand on the boys back, leading him to the group of skeletons. “So what is you name? Are you hungry? We have red beans!” Bob said, proud that he actually had human food to offer the human. This was the only time of the year Bob ever had any food to offer anyone, as the skeletons don’t eat and the beans are just for ceremony.

 

            “my name is John. John Pharris. Yes, I am hungry, thank you” the boy spoke slowly and carefully with each word as if trying to keep some secret or truth from slipping from his lips. John sat down at the table at was given a bowl of cooked red beans. The beans had been cooked hours ago and were now as ice cold as the frigid October winds. John didn’t care about the taste or temperature of his food and began eating the red beans a few at a time, picking them up with his hands and chewing each bean carefully. The skeletons watched in wonder and amazement.

 

            “I haven’t seen a human eat in hundreds of years, did we all used to eat like that? Did I used to eat like that?” Asked a skeleton wearing a medieval era shirt and pants. “Probably, though I remember eating with a fork and also being more refined” Bob replied, posturing himself up and rubbing his mustache between his forefinger and thumb bone. Bobs mustache was a black and bushy mustache that was almost long enough to touch his cheekbones and the mustache curled up at both ends.

 

            “D-do any of you guys know about the grave wagon?” Asked the boy after a few moments of silence. None of the skeletons wanted to answer and possibly incriminated themselves. Earlier, during the picnic, Bob mentioned that many humans blamed skeletons for the grave wagon attacks on human cities. “We are as equally aware of the Grave Wagon as any other creature is” Bob explained.

 

            “You guys seem nice, I don’t think you guys are involved” Said John. “We didn’t say anything about being involved one way or another” Bob said nervously. “I felt it. I can’t read thoughts but I feel intentions. You are worried about me blaming you for what happened to me…” Replied John but then trailed off. His eye stared off into the air as if watching a horrible memory reply in his mind. “What happened to you boy? I would like to help but I don’t know who or what you really are” Explained Bob. Some of the other skeletons had crept away and left the picnic out of fear of the child and fear of humans in general but the majority seemed to share Bob’s concern for the boy who seemed to have been one of the few humans in history who survived the Grave Wagon’s attack.

 

            “My town was attacked out of nowhere, this was years ago. I’m fourteen and was barely nine when the grave wagon attacked. It appeared out of nowhere as if it was a hologram or an illusion. Things poured out of the wagon, monsters or shadows. I escaped with my parents. The town crumbled behind us as we drove away in our car. I was so scared the whole time.” John explained but had to stop. The memories were still painful even after all of these years. A single tear fell from his one visible eye. “I escaped with my parents as the trees came to life and attacked us. It was like the trees in this forest. But when I came to this forest the trees were nice to me. The trees from my town weren’t nice when they came to life. The car crashed and my parents and I survived the attack” John explained. “Geeze, maybe the kid should have some wine too” Said one of the skeletons, a skeleton dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, who sounded sympathetic and wished that he could get drunk after hearing that story.

 

            “My parents and I got separated years ago and I’ve been on my own ever since” John added, not responding to the offer of wine. “We don’t know where the Wagon is or where it comes from. We also don’t know how you survived the forest coming here. The trees here aren’t nice, this is the Haunted Forest, unless you are undead like us you wont be able to get through the forest easily. I’m a skeleton and the trees are still jerks to me!” Bob exclaimed in indignation. “How did you get the trees to actually move for you?” Asked a skeleton wearing a fancy party dress in the style of the nineteen twenties. “I was injured in the attack. The grave wagon’s magic struck me…” John said, his words trailed off as his right hand lifted up and pulled his hood down.

 

            The entire right side of his face was a black shadow with no hair or nose. Half of his mouth was a human mouth and the other half was a row of sharp teeth with no lips. His left eye was a striking blue and his right eye was an empty socket if darkness. “This explains some things. The Forest is afraid of you, its afraid of the Grave Wagon’s magic. I can assure you whatever evil magic the Grave Wagon uses, it does not come from this forest. I don’t know if it even comes from this world” Bob explained. He was concerned for the boy and was the first one to even not recoil in fear at the sight of John’s full face. Bob had seen worse looking monsters and didn’t even flinch at the shadowy face of John.

 

            John lunged forward and gave Bob a hug. John hugged Bob around his chest, Bob’s ribcage and spine were easily felt through Bob’s suit jacket and raggedy shirt. “Thank you. I needed someone to treat me normal. I don’t think I can live with humans anymore” John said, tears welling up in his one eye. Bob patted the boys head. “I know what will cheer you up” Bob said putting one finger in the idea to gesture that he had a good idea. Bob reached into the pocket on his sports jacket and pulled out a small bushy mustache. “I always have back up” Bob whispered so that the other skeletons couldn’t hear. Bob stuck the mustache to John’s face in one quick motion.

           

            John moved back and felt the bushy mustache on his face. The new facial hair distracted from the razor sharp teeth on the right side of his mouth and made John look slightly more human and also slightly sillier. “Look what I just grew!” John announced with a laugh. The last of his tears trickled down his face as a loud laugh escaped his mouth.

 

            “Boys can’t grow mustaches! Especially that fast!” Shouted the skeleton with a t-shirt and jeans. “Of course he can! Look at that skin! Human skin grows hair” Bob said, defending John’s new mustache. “SKELETONS CAN’T GROW THEM EITHER!” Shouted a skeleton in a flak jacket. “IT’S REAL! OK YOU GUYS?! ITS REAL!” Bob shouted back. “It’s real” Bob said to John. “It’s a real mustache, the others just like to tease me” Bob explained to John. John winked at Bob. “Don’t worry, I know it is” John said. If Bob had skin he would have given John the biggest smile.

 

            John the survivor of the Grave wagon and Bob the skeleton talked and ate red beans for the rest of the evening. John didn’t have anywhere to go and had run out of leads for chasing the Grave Wagon. That’s when Bob told John of a town full of monsters and spirits called Hallows End. Since the Haunted Forest had already accepted John as a fellow monster, John could travel to Hallows End unhindered. Bob also explained that a few of the leaders of Hallows End were as old as the forest itself and might know more about the Grave Wagon. John would go on to visit Hallows End and even learn some secrets along the way. But that is another story for another time.

 

            For now I suggest treating yourself to some good food, warm blankets and if you see any skeletons with mustaches say Hello.

Skeleton Picnic

Deep in the Haunted forest, on a cold night in October, thin shambling shapes traveled to a clearing of dead grass and one large table. The table was a giant tree stump that was carved into the shape of a table and was in fact still rooted into the ground by the massive roots that once fed a mighty tree. The stump was once a giant tree but now it served as a permanent table in this clearing. The clearing could only be found by those who already knew were it was and anyone traveling through the Haunted Forest would never find it by accident.

 

            The Haunted forest liked to trick travelers and lead them to their doom. The Haunted Forest let people safely travel to the Halloween village of Hallows End, but they were only guaranteed safety on Halloween day and the morning after. This strange clearing with its equally strange root table was so private that it must be host to the most evil and gruesome of events. On this chilly October night, the clearing had become the grounds for the Skeleton Picnic.

 

            Spooky skeletons shambled through the Haunted Forest unhindered by its trickery and curses. The clearing soon filled with undead figures, each dragging large heavy bags. Their bones rattled as they walked, the sounds of uneven foot steps echoed through the area as an army of skeletons shuffled and staggered over the dead grass. They all made their way to the center table with their bags. Each bag was hoisted up and dropped hard on the root table.

 

            Each of the bags spilled open when they hit the table revealing plates, cups, lanterns, miniature pumpkins and many jars of red beans. The skeletons got to work setting up lanterns in the clearing, the dark of night was pushed back into the depths of the forests by the small lights of a dozen lanterns hung up on metal rods. Each rod was stabbed deep into the ground and had a small hook on the top. The lanterns were hung from the hooks and would sway slowly in the cold October wind.

 

            The Skeletons set up the dishes in a big circle around the table and placed bottles of wine scattered through the center. Large jars of red beans were poured into oversized wooden bowls. The skeletons all sat on the ground in a circle around the wooden stump table, once they were all positioned they remained silent and motionless.

 

            A skeleton wearing a black vest, brown coat and brown pants, stood up and began to speak. “Greetings everyone, I am glad to see everyone was able to join us. Well, everyone except that Steve…” The Suit wearing Skeleton paused mid announcement and muttered curse words under his breath about Steve the skeleton. “Everyone who takes this picnic seriously made it, and for that I am grateful. As most of you know, I am Bob the treasurer of the “skeletons for the banning of dogs” club and also in my past life was an accountant for a promising tavern in the Autumn forest” Bob the Skeleton announced. “Yeah, accountant and a skeleton with a totally real mustache that isn’t fake” shouted a skeleton wearing torn jeans and a t-shirt. Several skeletons laughed and elbowed each other in the rib bones. Bob stared at the t-shirt wearing skeleton for several seconds, if he had a face his eyebrows would be furrowed. “Yes, it is totally real, So I am not sure why you said it like that” Bob said as he straightened the mustache on his face.

            Bob began again with his announcement “For those of you who are new here, Welcome and I hope you make it a tradition to join us every year. We are here to enjoy the company of our fellow Skele-brothers and sisters and talk about issues we skeletons face. Now before we get to all of that lets enjoy our traditional meal of red beans and wine” Bob announced as he adjusted the collar of his coat.

 

            The skeletons each took turns pouring red beans into their bowls and wine into their cups. The Wine and red beans had been a tradition of the skeleton picnic for over a hundred years and no one could remember why they even served food and drink at all. Many of the skeletons just assumed it was left over habits from being alive.

 

            The skeletons all started eating and drinking, immediately staining their torn clothes and the ground below them with red wine and bean paste mashed. The skeleton group ignored the wine and beans falling through their ribcages and onto the floor and pretended to have taste buds and stomachs. While many skeletons made fun of Bob for his totally real/not real mustache, every skeleton did some amount of pretending at one point or another.

 

            Bob stood up looking official as he straightened his red stained clothes and made a noise that resembled a human clearing their throat. “I have a few announcements, this is news that is relevant to all skeletons but I will have to settle for informing the skeletons who actually showed up at this meeting. First. The Grave Wagon has been active again. Every year this giant machine appears from the fog and decimates human cities. Normally that would not be a skeleton problem but many are saying that skeletons are involved. I refuse to believe this but I must mention it anyway. Humans and the monsters of Hallows End are whispering about skeletons and possessed humans being the culprits. Even if this is false, the fact that others believe it to be true will make our travels harder. So for now I urge skeletons to stay in the haunted forest and if any skeleton IS responsible for this destruction they need to step forward and take ownership of this carnage so that the rest of us wont be dragged down by his or her actions” Bob announced in a serious tone. Whispers and muttering was heard among the skeletons. Most seemed genuinely upset by this news but some cheered at the thought of humans being destroyed.

 

            “Secondly some goblin scientists have found that bone can grow hair and that it IS possible for skeletons to have some hair on their head or face” Bob said with conviction. “Your MUSTACHE is FAKE!” Shouted a skeleton in a blue hooded sweatshirt, his boney hands forming a cone in front of his mouth as to echo the words further across the table. “ITS REAL!” Bob Shouted back, his neatly pressed clothes becoming as ruffled as Bob’s nerves were. Bob touched his mustache to make sure it was on tightly, he did this as a reflex and didn’t realize he was even doing it.

 

            “Last bit of news Nyx and Poe, the self proclaimed Czars of Halloween have asked me and many skeletons to help with this years Halloween party. They say it will be important for skeletons and will be lots of fun. I don’t always agree with humans having such leverage in Hallows End but if they make a party that shows how fun and helpful skeletons are, maybe it will combat the bad press bestowed on us by this dreadful Grave Wagon” Bob explained to the group. More muttering could be heard. Many of the skeletons liked the sound of a skeleton themed Halloween party and were more concerned with the fun it could provide than the positive reputation that Bob was so worried about.

 

            The party continued on after the announcements. The cold October wind blew through the dark Haunted forest but the skeletons didn’t have skin and didn’t feel the cold. The talked and ate red beans unfazed by the cold Autumn air. The night lingered on and fog drifted into the clearing from the surrounding forest. The skeleton picnic was on its one hundred and eleventh year and the members of the picnic had been undead for a range of years. Bob had been a skeleton for almost fifty years and though he was in charge of the meetings he wasn’t the founder.

 

            Autumn was in full swing and Halloween approached slowly and steadily. It was in October that the Haunted forest and surrounding area would be more exciting than any other time of the year. The bravest of mortals might seek such excitement and if they were careful and wise they would not only find excitement but would also find that they still had breath in their lungs on November 1st.