Twisting Apathy

 A twisting wind whirled across the land, physical matter was torn to shreds in its wake. At the center was a person with a bored expression. 

The Earth spun through space, flew continuously around a giant ball of fire and all of this floated in an infinite weightless vacuum. Back on Earth the whirlwind torn through the land. The people of Earth were generally unimpressed by all of these events. 

"Get back to me when the whirlwind is on fire!" One person said with a shrug as the deadly wind ripped the neighbors house from the ground. As the house was torn to a thousand pieces and neighbor JoJack was pulled into a thousand directions the surrounding neighborhood was still uninterested and continued along with their lives.

"It's a bit of a nuisance, but if it was a real threat someone would have said something by now" John Muggak said to his friend, who had expressed momentarily concern then went back to his general comfortable state. John smiled, pleased with himself for being so smart. He walked over to his television, grabbed the remote and turned the TV on. "This week, there is terrible news!" Shouted the news reporter as he gripped each side of his desk. "Ashley Allure the famous starlet was dumped by her rich celebrity boyfriend! Who gets the car?! Which of the ten cars do they get? Stay tuned for all the details!" The nicely groomed newscaster shouted in a panic.

John Muggak looked alarmed "see?! If we worried about some wind outside we would have missed this!" John shouted at his friend. Then John felt proud for being so right about the situation.

The humanoid at the center of the whirlwind grew bored of the destruction and eventually stopped. Three towns were flattened by the powerful winds when the whirlwind being decided to quit. The winds dissipated and the humanoid vanished into the air. Sadly Ashley Allure never returned with her boyfriend.

Standing against the rain

            I stand in the pouring rain, staring ahead, stern faced and shoulders tensed. I leave my hands relaxed to give the impression that I am just as relaxed. I put little effort into my relaxed disguise as my eyes cut holes in anything I look at.

           

            The world is frequently chaotic and on fire, but today the world is pouring rain and the cobblestone beneath my feet falls away all around me. I see windows with warm yellow light emitting from them, inside the windows people are laughing, smiling and having conversations while other windows have people with calm faces and relaxed shoulders. No one can see me from their windows and no one bothers to look out into the rain.

            In my mind I am brandishing a crowbar and have broken those smug windows with their warm glow pouring out of them. I have also broken the smiling faces of the ones sitting comfortably inside. Back in reality I do nothing but stare while life pushes on and the people in the windows live their lives, never noticing my existence or caring to see it.

            Some people stand alone and invisible and those people have to stand the strongest. Occasionally a traveler might see me and help prop me up before walking off into the night but ultimately we are alone in this world.

            There are times I feel guilty for even thinking about how lonely I am or how bad it feels to struggle with little or no support. The reality is that all humans are alone and the human race is a race of insecure and highly intelligent animals who shriek into the darkness and pretend everything is fine. There are varying degrees of shrieking in the darkness but the Grim Reaper comes for us all sooner or later and when shadow of death looms over you, that is when you will truly find out that money, lovers and “yes men” cannot save you.

             The only certainty in life is death and taxes but death can’t be avoided.

I do not fear death, I have experienced pain in life and unless I am cast into the fiery pits of hell, I know death couldn’t be any worse than life. I will embrace a new life, an afterlife or the sweet release of oblivion. If there is no heaven then I will not have a consciousness to be bothered by it. The lights go out, the curtain falls and that’s all she wrote.

            I do like to think there is more than this life but I am not in a hurry to find out. I would like to experience the bliss of heaven but living on earth the way I have, it is easier to believe in a hell than believe in a heaven. Still all the same, I believe in heaven despite everything.

            So I endure the rain and the darkness, I take comfort in the little things and I curb my rage against others, even those who capitalize on the misfortune of others. Any time my mind decides that the only solution is violence, that is when I do nothing at all. I know that any action I took at that point would lead to something I might regret, or worse, something I would enjoy too much.

Lower Thy Shield

I do not submit easily, I have bowed out from fights in my weaker days and backed down when necessary and those with weaker minds would not be able to tell the difference between my actions and my intentions. Bowing or backing down is an action similar to a theater performance to submit is to give another control over your thoughts and actions. One would be safe if surrounded by those who submitted but the ones who bow and do not submit are dangerous as they are just waiting for a chance to either escape or kill the one forcing them to bow.

            To submit is to surrender your will, this isn’t always a bad thing unless you submit to someone who cannot handle the power you’ve given them. Two lovers must submit to each other in order for the couple to build trust and a sturdy relationship, a knight must submit himself fully to his king so that he may be focused in battle and not questioning his actions or his kings actions. Because of this need to submit it is only after the fact that you learn whether the one you’ve submitted to is worthy of you or abusing the power you have given.

            I do not submit easily and my strength of will has carried me through life further than my own useless body. When the body betrays you and legs weaken it is the determination that fuels you. The human spirit is one of the strongest forces in the world and I have seen it in action first hand. I have forced myself to walk when I had no energy to do so and force of will held me together.

            Will power is not magic as much as it seems to be and the human body has a breaking point where it just stops moving regardless of how much inner strength someone has. That being said, I believe that if you continue to push yourself past your limits you will find new limits that you didn’t even know you had.

            I push myself through pain, depression and anxiety, my will grows stronger and when I do submit myself to someone it is by choice and not by force.

            The choice to submit means I have found someone worthy of me and I feel safe and secure enough to drop my shield which has been built over the years to be wide and sturdy. I do not take this action lightly and when I let someone into my heart and mind it is very difficult to get them out. Unfortunately I make mistakes like anyone else and removing someone from my heart is as painful emotionally as it would be physically. 

            Removing someone from my heart and mind is painful but in addition to pain there is anger. Anger at myself for making a foolish decision, anger at the one I trusted for betraying that trust and anger combined with sadness for the possible future that did will never happen.

            When this happens I lift my shield and move on through life, try to recover from the wounds and hope that one day I will find someone I can submit myself to without fear of another painful wound in my heart.

Love in Transition part 1

            John Trect walked down Oak Street in the city of Dark City. Despite being named after a tree, Oak street had no trees anywhere near it. Dark City was actually built over a forest called the Dark Forest. So maybe the people who named the streets were trying to honor the forest that once stood tall in this land, or maybe the name was intended to mock the destroyed forest.

            John was wore dark gray dress pants, a dark gray vest buttoned up, a crisp white button up dress shirt and black dress shoes. His thick black hair was styled back in an attempt to control his unruly locks. John had a new job as a pianist at the Black Cat club. The Black Cat was a favorite club, bar and lounge in the downtown area.

            It was eight o’clock at night when John opened the heavy wooden door to the club. The door was made of dark gray and brown, sturdy wood with black iron overlay and a heavy deadbolt on the inside of the door. John wondered what kind of people would need a door like that but his thoughts quickly changed as the door slammed shut behind him from its own weight and the subtle slant in the floor.

            Inside the Black Cat club was elegant but dark, with a single corridor at the entrance that was only six feet wide and covered with dark purple wallpaper and black lace draped from the ceiling. The corridor went forward ten feet then opened into the large main room.  The main room had a bar area to the left, bathrooms and coat check counter to the right and straight ahead were rows of seats and in front of the seats was a stage.

            John walked over to the bar, the bar was made a polished wood with a deep auburn color. The bartender wasn’t there so John decided to wait. He wasn’t sure who to talk to before he set up for the night and hoped to get a drink as well. He leaned his weight against the bar as he drummed his knuckles across the counter top. The sound of his knuckles hitting against the wooden bar echoed in the empty club.

            A woman approached from the backstage and entered onto stage. Her walk was graceful but purposeful. Her face was beautiful and pale and her eyes were an emerald green and staring at John with an annoyed look. This breathtaking redheaded woman noticed John and her first impression of him was annoyance.

            “I hope your piano playing sounds better than your noisy first impression you were going for out here” Said the woman. John froze and nervously smiled. “how did you know I was the piano player? Maybe I am just a patron waiting to be served” John said, trying to regain his confidence. The redhead gave a sharp look before replying “All the patrons know we don’t open till midnight. So do you have a name?” Asked the woman.

            John stood up straight and gave a warm smile as if to make a second, first impression. “My name is John, a pleasure to meet you. What is your name?” John asked. The woman’s expression softened “Alyssa, nice to meet you”

            “Alyssa” That was the first time John had met her and her name would always ring in his mind, her voice carrying each syllable across his ears like a melody.

Transition

            John sat back in his wooden chair, the chair was sturdy, functional but also looked nice, with the smooth finish and rounded backing. John was wearing a button up white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a dark gray vest and matching pants and black dress shoes that had been scuffed. John pushed back a handful of thick black hair from his face as he stared awe struck by a beautiful woman singing a sad song. The woman had vibrant red hair, skin as pale as milk and a shimmering golden dress. Spotlights shined down on her and the shiny parts of the dress reflected light back out into the darkness of the crowd. She looked like an angel or an ascended being too pure for this world.

            John leaned back in his chair and let the music wash over him. John had a sad smile across his face as he enjoyed himself but couldn’t help but let the music effect his heart.

            Every note and word that escaped the songstress’ lips sounded like they came from the pain she felt deep in her soul. She sang with every once of her being and John felt it.

            The whole audience was struck silent by her powerful performance but it was John who was personally affected. He and the songstress were lovers and any pain she felt would echo in his heart as well. “Alyssa” John muttered as he leaned forward in his seat.

            The song played on, the band providing wings to let the songstress’ words soar The words and music touched the hearts of all who heard it and every night the club was packed with people who wanted to hear more.

            Then just as the song reached its high the songstress let loose with everything she had, she sang her heart and soul out and the crowd went wild. That moment cracked like lightning through the earth and then faded like a passing storm only the low rumblings of a distant thunder could be heard until it was over and sound gave way to silence.

            The audience was awed by the music and several seconds of silence lingered in the air before the people regained their senses and cheered like mad. The songstress bowed and gave a sweet smile. The curtains closed and everything stopped.

            John sat in his chair and tears began to trickle down his face. He slowly lifted his hand and gently placed it on the mouse on his computer desk. He moved the mouse over to the replay button and clicked it. The whole scene began to play again. John lifted his glass of whiskey and ice and took a long sip before setting it back down.

            The songstress, the club and the audience were all real and John was even there to experience it in person, but years had passed since that day and now the recording of that day was all John had left of his beautiful songstress Alyssa.

            The world moved on without the once beloved songstress but John still couldn’t. He listened to his love sing again and again as he played the video for the thousandth time. John sat back in his chair and let the music wash over him.

Santa vs Nathan round 2

Twas the night before Christmas and Santa clause did lurk, he was trying to stay hidden from Nathan, the Jerk.

            Nathan and Santa clause had a long and bitter feud and every year Santa would have to sneak into Nathan’s house to leave coal for Nathan and a gift for Nathan’s wife, who wasn’t a jerk, to Santa anyway.

            It was almost midnight and Nathan was awake sharpening a hatchet. While everyone else in the house slept, Nathan sat silently in a high-back chair next to a plate of milk and cookies. As the clock struck midnight a rustle on the roof was heard, or a clatter, if you prefer. Up on the roof arose such a clatter while Nathan sat in his chair, mad as a hatter.

           

            Nathan controlled his breath as he heard footsteps in the living room, slowly walking toward the Christmas tree. “Surprise fat guy!” Shouted Nathan as he drove his hatchet down onto the intruder. The hatchet sunk into the chest of the intruder, who wasn’t Santa clause, but an actual intruder who broke in through the window. The burglar gurgled blood as he breathed out his last words “Tell my kids, I never loved them” He muttered as he died in Nathan’s arms. Nathan wiped away one single tear from the corner of his eye and gently lowered the crook onto the floor, then opened his half broken window and heaved the dead body from his first floor window into the flower bed below. “I’ll get to that later” Nathan muttered. Then he heard more footsteps but this time they were right behind him. Nathan turned to see a red gloved hand fly right for Nathan’s face. Nathan took a sucker punch to the nose and stumbled back. He was slightly stunned from the punch and when he looked up, Santa was gone and the presents were under the tree. Also the cookies were eaten, the milk was gone and Nathan’s stocking was full of dog poop. Nathan cursed under his breath and dashed for the window.

            He scaled the side of his own house till he reached the roof and saw Santa ready to take off on his sleigh. Nathan charged at the reindeer like a madman, which frightened the poor animals. The Reindeer couldn’t talk but they could fly, and all began to run and take off into flight without Santa giving the word to go. The sleigh was jerked forward and Santa was almost thrown off the roof. The Sleigh bells jingled and the reindeer raced into the night. Santa was glad that he didn’t have to visit that house for another year.

            Just as Santa’s sleigh was about to go into warp speed, or whatever magic his sled had, Nathan popped up from the under carriage and jumped onto the seat next to Santa. Santa’s arm went up out of a defensive reflex and it pulled on the reins making the reindeer veer off course. The sleigh began to pick up speed as it flew gradually more out of control. The bottom of the sleigh even took out the top of someone’s chimney. So you KNOW it was craaazy.

            Nathan swung his hatchet like a maniac trying to finally end the immortal fat man. Santa punched Nathan in the stomach and tried to dump the hatch man over the side of the sleigh. Nathan doubled over in pain but managed to grab Santa’s jacket. The two men rolled out of the sleigh. If it wasn’t for the low hanging jingle bells Santa would have fallen to his death. Snow pelted Santa’s face as he hung onto a green rope covered in golden bells. Nathan the madman clung to Santa’s black as coal boot with one hand and swung his hatchet with the other. Nathan managed to land a hit with the hatchet, chopping santa in the lower back. Santa cried out in pain and dropped from the sleigh. The two men fell. Nathan was surrounded by blizzard winds and winter snow. It had had struck midnight only a few minutes ago and Nathan and Santa were already about to die.

            Nathan woke up in the snow in the middle of nowhere with a note pinned to his chest. “You are lucky my reindeer saved you. They feel bad for you. This saint, isn’t as easy to forgive. Try again next year. Clause OUT!” The note was written in red ink with festive Christmas lettering. Nathan lost his hatchet and would have to spend the night walking home. For Nathan a shot at the fat man was worth almost dying from a fall, freezing to death and walking home in the snow all night.

            Merry Christmas everyone and remember, if you hear rustling on the roof or in your living room, it might be burglars.

Christmas Landscape

It was three weeks before Christmas and I was in bed, I stared up at the ceiling but was watching the scenery in my head.

            It was night, the stars in the sky shined brightly from space, twinkling for the world to see. The ground was covered in freshly fallen snow, it was light but wet enough to make a small crunching squeak under you foot with each step. Beneath the snow was grass that still had some green color to it. A stone path cut a winding shape through the field of grass. I walked across the stone path, wearing a winter coat and scarf and every exhaling breath was a visible puff of from my mouth. To my left was a row of tall pine trees, each tree was between seven and eight feet tall. Bright strings of lights and colorful decorations covered the trees. These Christmas trees let off a warm glow which was a pleasant contrast to the cold snowy night of winter.

            I continued walking down the path, the snow was melting away from the stone but was still sticking to the grass. As I was walking I spotted two pumpkins lightly dusted with snow. They were to the right of the path and so close that they were almost touching the stone. The snowy pumpkins sat in the grass and seemed out of place in the otherwise Christmas landscape that had been spread out before me.

I approached the pumpkins, crouched down and gently touched the side of one. The pumpkins had faces carved in them. The eyes and mouth lit up when I touched the first pumpkin. Both pumpkins turned to reveal that they were Jack-O-Lanterns with a light that glowed just as bright and warmly as the Christmas trees. “It is much to late for Jack-O-Lanterns” I said, then paused “Or much too early” I added. The first pumpkin began to move its carved mouth “We are not pumpkins that celebrate Halloween, we are pumpkins that you keep around as regret. You carried us into this Christmas and while others walk right by without notice you always stop and check on us. Halloween is once a year and you worry you don’t appreciate it when it arrives. Just the same that you will not fully appreciate Christmas until it is over. When you are walking alone in January you will find a small tree only a foot tall and covered in Christmas lights. You carry your regret without being asked and insist on doing this even if you were told to stop. We are also the fond memory of the recent Halloween passed. It is not all regret it is also joy. But we are pumpkins in the snow, slowly getting buried until we are forgotten until the snow melts. This is just like your memory of Halloween, a beloved holiday that slowly gets snowed over by the excitement of Christmas and when the snow melts you will be wishing for Halloween all over again.” Spoke the first pumpkin, its words cut me to the core and I muttered “sorry” but didn’t know why.

            I stood up from my crouching position and began to walk further down the path. “Don’t worry we will always be around. You don’t need one day to celebrate the happy memories. Those stay forever” Called the second pumpkin, who seemed more laid back and probably took a lot of naps.

            A tear welled up in the corner of my eye as I walked away. I smiled as I thought of the fun I had in Autumn, no matter how short it was, I enjoyed it. I then looked forward and took in the sights of the Christmas snow and lights.

            My walking pace slowed to a stroll as I thought about the Holidays passed and the ones approaching. A small person in green and white clothes was in the field to the far right. He looked like one of santa’s elves. I didn’t believe in santa but I gave the elf the benefit of being possibly real. “Hello!” I called and waved to the elf. The small person looked up and waved back. I continued walking so as to not risk getting lectured by another Holiday symbol. I didn’t need a Christmas elf that eating junk food and staying up all night playing video games was bad, or that I should be more charitable.

            As I walked I saw a small house in the distance. It was brightly lit up and surrounded by the peaceful scenery of night air, snow and a forest even further back behind the house.

            I continued moving forward and could see more detail in the house. It was a small wooden cottage with wood smoke coming from the chimney, snow on the roof, a string of Christmas lights lined the roof and windows and a porch light that seemed warm and inviting. My slow stroll turned into a brisk walk as I imaged the comforts of the cottage and how nice the warm fire would be after walking in the cold night air for so long. My cheeks started to get read and my toes were cold.

            I finally reached the house, I walked up the two wooden steps that led to a covered porch, I wiped my feet on a decorative bear statue that had bristles on his back. The stone bear with the hard bristles seemed to be there with the purpose of cleaning off shoes. As I walked to the door I was about to knock but felt so comfortable I reached for the knob and walked right it.

            The inside of the cottage was warm and inviting, I smelled mulled apple cider and a crackling fire. Soft music played on a record player near by. The crackling of the fire and the small crackling sound the record player made were just as pleasant as the music being played.

            In the living room was a big fluffy dark green couch with blankets draped over the back. Next to the couch was an arm chair which looked just as comfortable. I sat down in the armchair. As soon as my body rested into the chair I began hearing voices of happy people playing in the house. I saw a black cat sitting on the couch, curled up and sleeping. I smiled and reached over to pet the cat. Before I touched the cat my eyes began to tear up. Tears trickled down my face though I did not know why. I touched the cats soft shiny fur, it looked up at me with its big green eyes and then vanished.

            I heard a female’s voice all to me and without hesitation I responded “Yes, Honey?” I looked around and no one was there. I was confused by the house and even more confused by my own actions. The house seemed so real but everything disappeared when I reached for it.

            I stood up and saw silhouettes of children playing and a reading a book while lounging in a chair. I would blink and they silhouettes would disappear. The smell of fresh pie lingered in the air and I could still smell hints of the mulled cider from when I first arrived. I knew these things weren’t real and decided to leave.

            I left through the front door, walked down the two steps and continued walking down the stone path. I didn’t look back once not even after I walked so long that the house was out of view. I walked down the stone path and came to a split. I took the path to the right and followed it into town.

            I arrived in a modern town, it wasn’t fancy, it didn’t have a warm glow and no one went out of their way to give helpful advice, but at least it was real. I walked to a three floor house, made my way passed the front door and opened an easy to miss side door. The door took me up a winding set of stairs that led to another door, I unlocked the second door and arrived at a small apartment on the third floor. It was quiet, cozy and except for the landlord, no one else knew it existed. 

            I entered into the living room, to my right was a big window that looked out on train tracks and the tops of other peoples houses. Sometimes the train would come rocketing by and I could feel the gentle shake of the building as the force of the giant machine moved quickly down the metal tracks. Having the train close to my apartment was an interesting feeling that I have yet to describe in any way other than “pretty cool”. The muffled sound of the train and the gentle rocking was a great feeling. I could close my eyes and it felt like I was on the train, gently rocking side to side as I sped toward another land.

            I locked the door to my apartment and laid down on the floor. I made a kiss noise in the air and two cats came out from hiding and started to purr immediately. The cats rubbed their faces on my face and hands, welcoming me home. I pet the cats for a minute then slowly stood up. The lazy cats plopped over onto their sides like sacks of potatoes when I stood.

            I crossed the room to a small stand. On the stand was a two foot tall plastic Christmas tree. I clicked a button on the bottom of the trees plastic stand and the branches of the tree began to light up. I turned the lights off, took my shoes off and crawled into bed. I pulled the blankets over my head and nestled into bed. My cats jumped on me and sprawled out, draping their bodies across the bed and over my legs. The fake Christmas tree gave off a soft colorful light in the dark room, my cats purred themselves to sleep and in the distance I heard the muffled sound of the train.

Holiday Contemplation

Snow drifted gentle from the sky as the wood in my hearth crackled and burned. I sat in front of the warming glow of the fire and watched the flames flicker and dance. It was night, the first snow of December had settled on the town.

            In the distance I could hear small bells ringing and people singing festive songs. The winter festival had arrived in this little village and everyone gathered in the middle of town to celebrate. The town would celebrate in song and dance for seven days and on the final day, when the clock struck midnight, everyone would exchange gifts and wish each other cheer. It was a fine tradition, celebrating the end of the year and giving the village something to celebrate during the winter.

            While others liked going out into the cold and singing, I preferred to stay warm in my home. I don’t mind the singing, but I don’t understand the need to be outside in the snow, or the need for those bells. Villagers carried small bells on a stick and rang them and cheered.

            I remember Hazel used to like the winter celebrations. She would sing and dance with the rest of the village. While I always assumed I lived in a village of idiots, I knew Hazel wasn’t an idiot, yet she enjoyed the festival just as much as anyone. I’ve always felt that there was a piece of myself missing, that I couldn’t enjoy the holidays like the others. I felt as though there was a wall between me and everyone else when it came to these things. During my younger years I tried to join everyone, I did the motions, I sang the songs and tried to be in good cheer. No matter how I tried to join the group I never understood the appeal, I never truly fit into the festivities.

            I gazed into the flickering flame and my memories took over, I no longer saw the fire, I was looking into memories of Winter festivals of the past. I remember being told that I ‘used to’ enjoy the fun, I ‘used to’ be a merry and cheerful fellow. I don’t know if these comments should make me laugh or cry, as the times the villagers spoke of were times that I was trying and failing to fit in. From their comments I can assume I was convincing in my attempts to join the celebration, but I never enjoyed a minute of it, I faked emotion to please the others and they believed it.

            I was always capable of experiencing fun and joy, but others used to say I was cold and unable to have fun because I did not run and jump like an idiot in the cold and snow. I did not enjoy drinking harsh alcohol that burned my mouth and soured my stomach, I did not enjoy women who I do not know climbing all over me after they had consumed too much beer or wine.

            I used to enjoy things with Hazel. She was a lovely person, she could sit with me by the fire, she enjoyed books with me and we had long and interesting conversations. She also enjoyed festivals and dancing like a maniac. She could enjoy so many things and was able to bridge the gap of interests between the village and me.

           

            Hazel was truly too good for this world, she was the only one who could get through my wall and see who I was behind the layer of bricks that I built to keep the world out. She had more power over me than I’d like to admit and when she died I felt my heart break and my mind snap.

            Over the long years I have recovered to some degree, but my heart would never be the same and I drifted further from the rest of the village as their ignorant attempts to help me only made me feel worse. It is almost midnight of the final day and the Winter Festival is almost over. I made a gift for Hazel and put it on a shelf above my hearth. I crafted a heart out of glass in my workshop. The heart was red like the fire in my hearth because the only things that could still warm me was the fire in my hearth and the memory of Hazel’s love.

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.