The last Duel

            Sir Williams traveled alone an empty road on his horse. He was sent by the king to investigate a sinister looking keep. This large stone building was old but sturdy and normally would be left alone. It was said the Keep was haunted and a black knight on a ghostly horse would ride out of it every night and prey on helpless travelers. Sir Williams didn’t believe in ghosts, but it was entirely possible that a disgraced knight lived there.

            The sun slowly set over the hills as Williams approached. All was silent except for the nervous sounds coming from Williams’ horse. The keep stood up ahead, being old and made of dark stone, it was easy to see why people were afraid of it, especially at night. The sound of another horse could be heard, the slow trotting of the horse and then the clinking of heavy armor from the rider. Just as the towns people said a knight in black armor riding a pale horse came out of the keep and like a ghost appeared on the other side of the field. The two knights looked at each other. The Black knight shouts, his voice sounds like a lion’s roar. It certainly wasn’t a noise human’s make. Williams is stunned for a second, by the time the shock of the roar wears off, the evil knight is half way across the field. He put his sword out stretched, ready to strike when within range. The Dark knight’s sword was a jagged blade with a slight curve. It could make a messy stab wound or cause a slice strong enough to take off an arm.

            Sir Williams charged forward his sword raised up above his head. His sword was brilliantly shiny steel, with a gold hilt. This sword wasn’t legendary or magical. But it was made by the best blacksmith in the land and was given to Williams as a reward for all of his bravery and service. The two knights charged forward, the horses ran faster and faster at each other. Sir Williams readied his sword and at the last second swung it downward at the Black Knight. Both of their swords clanged together with such force it almost threw Williams off his horse. They both continued to run in opposite directions for a moment to recover. Then, as if they had rehearsed this, they turned around at the same time and when in for another charge. Sir Williams lifted his sword again ready for another strike. The Black knight veered off to the right and began whirling his sword around in the air like a madman. Sir Williams slowed down and turned his horse to face the Black knight. the dark knight’s sword began spinning quickly through the air as it did, the shadows around him began to grow. The shadows stretched out and began reaching up from the ground. In seconds the shadows pulled themselves from the ground and now floated above the Shadow-summoning Knight.

            Sir Williams barely had a chance to react before the Shadows flew straight at him. They howled a ghastly noise as they flew. They outstretched their arms and attacked with claw like fingers. Williams pulled back on his horse to avoid the strike, but his horse was scare and reared up on two legs, throwing Sir Williams off. His horse ran off and he quickly got to his feet as the shadow creatures circled him. Then he heard the shadow knight galloping on his horse. In a fair fight two knights would fight with lances or swords on horseback and if one rider was dismounted a noble knight would also dismount and engage in ground combat. This was not a fair fight, and Williams did not expect the Shadow knight to dismount.

            To even the odds, Williams reached into his boot and pulled out a dagger, which he quickly threw, striking the knight with such force that it made him lose his balance and fall off his ghostly horse. Without a rider, the horse simply vanished into thin air.

While the Shadow knight was disoriented, Sir Williams dodged the oncoming attacks from the shadow creatures. He swung his sword in the air, slashing at the shadows as they swooped down, but he was unable to hurt them. He would have to defeat the Shadow Knight to get rid of these minions. The Shadow knight stood up and lifted a flail and began swinging it. The spiked metal ball spun through the air, building up speed and stopping power.

            Sir Williams got his sword and shield ready. He moved in closer, dodging shadow claws and holding up his shield to block any flail attacks. He ran forward, knowing if he was going to strike, he would need to strike fast. The Shadow knight swung his flail down on Williams, luckily Williams blocked it with his shield, unluckily the force of the strike broke several bones in Sir Williams’ wrist. He winced in pain and dropped the shield. His eyes grew wide as the metal ball came back around toward his face. Sir Williams leaned back and moved his head just in time to dodge the attack. While the Shadow knight recovered from his last swing and before he attacked again. Williams lunged forward with his sword, striking an opening in the Black knights armor. Sir Williams managed to stab in the space between the chest armor and the bottom of the helmet, a tiny little slit that leads right to the throat. With one final move, the Shadow knight struck Sir Williams in the chest with his might flail and at the same time the shadows all attacked at once. Sir Williams had his armor ripped and his back scratched up by the shadows and the flail dented his armor and broke a few ribs. the strike to the ribs knocked Williams off of his feet and from the ground he saw the Shadows fade away and the Shadow Knight let out another roar before he too faded away. No trace was left of the enemy, as if they never existed at all.

            Sir Williams was badly injured, not near any town and was without a horse. He traveled for days on his own, heading back to town, but he never made it. The king was informed that Sir Williams defeated a knight in black armor, and then died in battle. In the report the black knight was just a rogue knight without a king. The truth was the Black knight was much more than that and was more of a ghost knight or some kind of evil spirit. As for Sir Williams, he didn’t die in battle. He walked for days, injured and alone, until he found a small farmhouse. The family there took care of him and nursed him back to health. Once he was healthy again he decided not to return to his kingdom. He was tired of war and fighting and figured that after his last battle he deserved a break.

            Days went on, then weeks, then years and Williams never went back. Eventually he started his own farm, made his own family and changed his last name to Williamson. He and his family remained friends with the farming family that helped him and from that point on he led a nice peaceful life.

Jack's adventures - through the rift

Jack was a thief from humble beginnings and a complicated past. For reasons that I shall not get into right now, Jack had three unique traits. First, he was incredibly fast and agile and strong enough to pull his weight as he climbed the side of a building. Secondly, he had a voice in his head. Jack was unsure if this voice was his imagination or some kind of spirit that possessed him. Third, he had a short sword that he received from his father. This blade is sturdy and sharp even though it is a very old sword and the carvings on the blade are in an ancient language. Jack’s full story and explanations are being put into a book that I have been working of for years. Last five years or so, off and on.  But without further delay, let us enjoy a new set of short stories called. “Jack’s adventures”

In the distant hills of Garogh kingdom, a lone thief and traveler walked, muttering to himself. This man was Jack. He wore sturdy brown boots, black pants, white shirt, thick, fingerless work gloves and a green cloak. the cloak was the only piece of clothing that he had since he was a child. Two things Jack always had with him, were his sword and his cloak.

“I don’t know why I agreed to this” Jack muttered to himself. “Because of all the reward that await us, Jack” Replied a strange voice in Jack’s head. The voice was named Ack. Jack named ‘him’ when he first started hearing the voice.

Jack was on his way to a grand tournament, if he found a way to register then beat all of the fiercest warriors in the kingdom, he would get a magical artifact as a prize. Jack didn’t care about power, but Ack insisted that this item would help in their travels and keep Jack alive longer in these dangerous times.

The terrain was all hills and rocks even the roads were uneven. Jack was in good shape, but walking uphill all day on a rocky surface was starting to wear on him. The city of boulder ridge came into view. Jack would be able to rest here, then head onto the capital city of Gor.

“Are you a contestant in the arena?” Asked a tall man, standing between Jack and the city. this man was seven feet tall and weighed more than twice what Jack weighed. The Garogh people were naturally big though. “Who are you and why would you randomly assume that?” Asked Jack, trying his best to avoid trouble. “Name is Ulk and I am competing in the tournament. You are armed, you are foreign and your headed toward the city where the tournament is being held. Tourists wouldn’t come out this far. The land is too rough. This means we are both competing and though I am sure I could beat you in a fair fight, I would rather not take this risk. If you do not mind, I will have to kill you before you enter the city” Ulk replied.

Jack sighed heavily “I told you this was a bad idea” Jack muttered to Ack. Then he drew his sword, an ancient blade, but still incredibly sharp. Ulk didn’t seem to be armed and since Ulk only wore short leather pants and a tunic, he didn’t have a way to conceal a weapon. Jack wouldn’t go easy on the guy, Ulk mentioned not wanting a fair fight, so Jack was on guard.

Ulk charged toward an already exhausted Jack. The ground shook under the giants stomping feet. In an instant, Jack was gone. Like a wolf, he moved swiftly along the ground, running behind Ulk before the giant could blink. Jack slashed across Ulk’s legs. Instead of yelling or falling to the ground, ulk swung around and swatted Jack like a fly. Jack toppled backward, smacking against rocks as he went.

Ulk smiled “alright, enough fun. I will not waste my energy on you. I need it for the tournament in two days” He said. then from behind Ulk, more men came into view. They were smaller than Ulk but still large. They held clubs and axes and walked menacingly closer.

“This is bad” Jack muttered. For some reason Ack didn’t respond. This was bad because as a last resort Jack would depend on Ack for a quick boost in strength. Jack charged at the group, his out, ready to fight for his life. The group of men smashed their weapons down on Jack, missing each time. their attacks slowly got more accurate and Jack was running out of places to run. Dodge an axe, then he would slash one of them, then jump away from a club, then he would slash, then roll, then attack, then dodge. He kept this up but was getting so tired.

As Jack fought for his life, his sword began to glow a pale blue. Energy surrounded it and all of Jack’s attacks grew stronger. Each slash would send one of the giants stumbling, no matter were the strike was located. Blue energy then started to surround his body. The sword was protecting Jack when the situation looked dire. Despite having this new ability, Jack still wasn’t winning, just surviving. He injured a few men, but there were so many he couldn’t fight them all.

Then he heard thunder crack and clouds formed over Jack, then in a blink of an eye, lighting shot down, striking Jack and electrocuting the surrounding giant men, leaving only Ulk alive. Ulk stared in terror. Lighting struck, killing everyone and there wasn’t even a cloud in the sky.

Moments later Jack reappeared in a flash of light. Ulk ran off, afraid it might be witchcraft or sorcery. Jack stumbled along the ground, worn from the fight and now with a fresh wound. Someone shot a metal ball at him and it went deep into his arm. Jack had never seen such a weapon and hoped to never see one again.

Needing rest and medical attention, Jack walked to the town of boulder ridge. He made it safely there and had his wounds treated and mysteriously, no one wanted to fight him. Jack even heard about a few contestants dropping out of the tournament, Ulk being one of them.

Quiet train ride

            Fog settled in the night air. All was quiet and still. In the distance a train could be heard chugging away. The sound grew louder and louder, soon bright lights pierced through the darkness and the roar of a train echoed through the trees. Then, in an instant, the train was gone.

            Jim stared out the window, looking out into endless darkness. If it were during the day he would have some lovely forest scenery to look at, but at this hour all there was to do was sleep. All was quiet in the train and the muffled chugging of the train was relaxing. Jim was lucky enough to get a compartment to himself. He was traveling on business through a mountain range to the next city over. It was hardly a hot vacation spot and the late night trips were usually pretty dead.

            To ward off boredom, Jim decided to take a walk around the train. He could walk up and down a few isles, check out another car and then his exciting adventure would be done. He stood up and went out the door of his compartment, he didn’t even take two steps before he heard a scream. Jim was much of a hero, but a mix of concern and curiosity urged him to go. He ran into the next train car, it was just two long rows of seats with a little isle in the middle. When Jim arrived on the scene he saw several passengers curled up in their seats, staring terrified at a strange man in the middle of the isle. The man had strange clothing, looked as if he had just come from a medieval festival. Wearing mostly green and brown, with pale skin and dark hair. The man looked as worried as the train passengers. In his hand he held a sword, it pulsed with a strange blue light.

            “He just appeared out of this air!” someone yelled. Another man entered the train car, pushing his way past Jim. This man wore a trench coat and a hat. “My name is detective Murphy. Put down the sword” Murphy said to the medieval man. Murphy was traveling on business and heard the scream. Train security wouldn’t be able to handle this situation so it was a good thing he was here. The swordman didn’t reply, so Murphy raised his gun. The guy with the sword didn’t seem to understand what was going on but knew enough to see Murphy was a threat. Acting on instinct the swordsman dashed forward and slashed, at the same time Murphy fired his gun. The sword sent a rush of energy out destroying the bullet and sending Jim and Detective Murphy flying back against the train car door.

            The swordsman looked terrified but held a fighting pose. Murphy drew his gun again and fired. The swordsman didn’t even see the shot, but now staggered backward with a bullet wound in his gut. “I-I am sorry” said the swordsman, looking confused. The blade he held started to glow, then the light spread and engulfed the swordsman’s entire body. Thunder crack loudly in the sky and a bolt of lighting shot down from the heavens, striking the train, it torn the ceiling off the train car and hit the swordsman. In an instant the swordsman was gone.

            Lucky none of the passengers were hurt and except for the trail roof, there wasn’t any damage done. Jim looked around bewildered. After a few moments when everyone calmed down, Jim finally broke the silence and said. “At least the ride wasn’t boring”

On strike

On Wednesday, January 18th, websites across the internet go on strike for one day against the SOPA and PIPA bill. a bill that is supposed to prevent piracy, but is so loosely worded that it could shut down many popular sites due to piracy or copywrite laws.
So this little blog is on strike too. I might not have a million followers, but i am showing my support.
No stories this week, stories will continue next week.


to keep the internet the way it is, check out the links below.

for more information watch this. http://youtu.be/Bp8S8eJkMW8

to sign the pettition sign this!http://sopastrike.com/strike

Stephen and Nathan vs the night

            Stephen was driving along in his old go-cart of a car, riding with him was his wonderful cousin Nathan. They were coming from a ceramic tile convention and took a dirt road as a short cut home. The two of them had been at the convention all day, they had to drive home in the dark. The little green car’s high beams cut through the darkness and fog, revealing a clear path ahead of them as they drove on happily, singing show tunes along the way.

            Then a deer scampered out of the forest and onto the dirt road. Stephen slowly came to a stop and marveled at the deer. He loved woodland animals and always found them fascinating. The two cousins sat in the car and stared at the deer. They were both impressed by wild animals and didn’t mind waiting patiently for the deer to get out of the road. Time passed and several songs played through on the car radio. The majestic nature of this beast was wearing off and Stephen grew impatient. “Whats with this deer? Out of all the places to stop, he decided to stop on the road. What a jerk!” Stephen complained. Nathan nodded, but then got an idea.” Lets just scare it off” He suggested. “Good idea” Stephen replied. “hey, Jerk Deer. Get out of the road!” Stephen yelled. Nathan shook a plastic bag filled with soda cans and assorted garbage, hoping the rattling noise would scare the beast away. The plastic bag was the car’s trash bag for the road trip.

            After a few minutes of that the deer looked up at the car and then smashed the front headlights with its antlers. Stephen’s eyes went wide. “Th-that’s it!” he said sounding shocked. He got out of his car and walked toward the deer. “careful man, it is a wild animal” Nathan warned. “I don’t care. This thing can’t abuse my car and waste our time like this” Stephen replied angrily. Then with all his force he punched the deer in the face. The deer reared back in shock, as if someone dared stand against the majestic nature of this animal. “Deers aren’t all that tough” Stephen said. Just then the deer came back down with his hooves and stomped Stephen to the ground. Thinking quickly Nathan tackled the deer and held him down. Then Stephen punched the deer a few more times.

            Satisfied with their victory, Nathan and Stephen began to walk away. Rustling could be heard in the woods, then a bear and two more deer stepped out of the forest. “I didn’t know bears were friends with deer” Nathan said sounding puzzled. Stephen was also not sure how this team up happened. But they both knew they had a fight on their hands. The two deer charged in and the bear roared. “Fight!” said a loud voice booming through the sky. Stephen and Nathan knew what they had to do, they must activate their ancient fighting abilities, passed down to them by Melvin the drifter. Fire and electricity surged through the air and slammed into the ground, right in front of the charging animals. Nathan held a fire axe and his body surged with lighting. Stephen was holding a shovel, shadow energy and ice swirled around him and his weapon. “Time to show these stuck up animals whos in charge around here” Nathan said. Then swung his axe, sending a torrent of flames at the deer, roasting them and the burning the ground they stood on. “Death, comes for all who stand in our way” Stephen muttered. He slammed his shovel on the ground and an icy hand sprang up and grabbed the bear, then pulled him underground. “They never stood a chance” Stephen smirked. Nathan hesitated. “don’t you think we should be using these powers for more than just picking fights with animals and trying to get you a girlfriend?” Nathan asked. “No, no I don’t” Stephen replied. If picking up chicks and beating up wild animals was wrong, he didn’t want to be right.

            So now that they defeated the creatures of the night, it was time to go home. “Hey, maybe if we get home in time we can play a video game before bed.” Stephen suggested. “Yeaaah!” Nathan replied. The two friends high-fived then drove home. It was just another normal night in the life of Stephen and Nathan.

The end…probably.

Herbert the brave farmer

            It was dark and raining. The windmill of an old farm creaked as it moved by the force of the wind. Inside the farmhouse was Herbert, the farmer. He sat comfortably by the fire as he listened to the rain. His crops had been harvested already and his animals were safe in the barn, it was time for him to relax. Despite his relaxed state, one thought burned in the back of his mind. Something he said he wouldn’t worry about. The threat of attacks on farms. Some farmers said they were attacked by bandits, others claimed giant wolves came after their sheep. Herbert didn’t know if the attacks were linked or the land had gotten so dangerous that he had to worry about multiple threats.

            Then he heard howling and his blood went cold. It could just be wolves passing in the forest, but it was also likely that he was about to be under attack. In times like this, most farmers would hide in their houses and wait for a knight or someone from the castle to come down and clear out the beasts, but Herbert knew by the time anyone came, it could be too late.

            Luckily Herbert was prepared. After hearing so many stories from the neighboring farms, he used his savings to buy weapons. So he went into the storage room in his house and grabbed his new crossbow and a sharp hand axe made for chopping off limbs, not splitting wood. He also brought along a lantern so he could see in the dark. So Herbert went outside in the rain. He held up his lantern and walked around, but stayed close to his house. He watched closely for movement. When suddenly he spotted large wolves in his fields accompanied by rough looking men. So it seemed the bandits were connected to the wolf attacks. Without saying a word, Herbert loaded a bolt into his crossbow and fired it. The bolt flew straight and hit one of the men in the chest. The bandit’s eyes went wide and he fell to the ground, dead.

            The other bandit saw the light from the lantern and realized he was under attack. Then to Herbert’s surprise, the bandit growled and then began to change shape. In seconds the bandit went from being a man, to a wolf. Just as the bandit changed into a wolf, the other wolves stopped sniffing the ground and began to growl, then stood up on two legs. It seemed these weren’t bandits with wolves, but a band of werewolf bandits. Herbert sighed “Just great”. He didn’t need this stress, maintaining a farm was hard enough work already.

            The werewolves ran straight for Herbert, growling and snarling as they went. Out of reflex he threw his lantern, which hit the first werewolf and broke, splashing flaming oil all over the beast. The wolf man howled in pain and then dropped to the ground in a fiery mass. It was true that silver hurt werewolves, but burning them alive, stabbing them in the heart or cutting off their head would also do the trick. In fact, those methods worked on almost all creatures.

            Herbert loaded his crossbow and tried to take aim, but the wolves had closed in and one of them smacked the crossbow out of his hand. The force of the hit, jolted the bow and fired a bolt into the werewolf’s leg. While the one wolf was distracted by it’s leg wound, Herbert attacked the other wolf with his axe. Herbert’s axe came down and sliced into the shoulder of the nearest wolf. The werewolf countered by swiping Herbert with his claws, which knocked Herbert back, making him slam into the outer wall of his home. Besides the impact against the wall, Herbert was now bleeding from the claw marks. As long as he didn’t get bit, he wouldn’t have to worry about turning into a wolf. But Herbert was more concerned with bleeding to death right now.

            While the two remaining wolves recovered from their injuries, Herbert scrambled into his house and back into the storage room. He needed new weapons and had an idea. The wolves walked in through the open door, the door was left open because Herbert didn’t want them to break the door down. If he survived this, not having a door would really be a bother. Herbert ran out of his storage room and into the living room where the wolves sniffed around to look for him. Herbert now held a sledgehammer he used for breaking rocks and two small glass bottles of lamp oil and a torch. He ran at the wolves, then past them back outside. He was determined not to burn his own house down. When the wolves followed him outside they were both hit with small bottles of oil, which broke and got oil on their fur. Herbert then swung his torch. Lighting the wolves on fire. He only had a little oil left so the fire didn’t engulf the creatures it just burned and distracted them. While they were distracted he swung his hammer, cracking the skull of the one, then his the second in the chest, breaking ribs. Werewolves could heal their injuries quickly, so Herbert had to act fast. He ran out and grabbed his axe, which was now in the mud. He lifted his muddy axe and brought it down on the first werewolf, who was bent over with a cracked rib. The force of the axe chopped the monsters head clean off.

            The second wolf recovered from his skull injury and tried to bite Herbert, but ended up biting down on the blade of his axe as Herbert swung the axe into the creature’s mouth, slicing off the top part of its head, which was the most important part of the head. The wolves had been defeated and Herbert sank down in his doorway to rest. Herbert was proud of himself for not only surviving a fight with a werewolf pack, but winning the fight too.

            Herbert’s farm had taken relatively little damage and the rain washed away almost all of the blood, so the only work now, was cleaning up the bodies. Instead of burying them right away, he put them off in a large pile outside of his farm. He would leave them there for a day as a warning to any would be intruders and providing proof of his battle, so he could brag to other farmers. The pile of werewolf bodies stayed out just long enough for word to spread of Herbert’s harrowing experience.

            Since that night, Herbert never had to fight another living soul. No werewolf, bandit, or pesky intruder would dare enter the homestead of Herbert the werewolf slayer. If they did, Herbert kept his trusty crossbow and axe around, just in case.

Showdown with Santa

            On a cold winter night, the night of Christmas eve, a figure could be seen riding across the sky. Santa clause and his reindeer sped through the air at breakneck speeds, traveling the world in one night all thanks to Christmas magic and a sugar high from cookies and candy canes.

            This Christmas eve night was different than most, as Santa would be visiting the house of the dreaded, Nathan Wilson. A character so dastardly he made the reindeer uneasy. Since Nathan was married, Santa had to visit his house for the first time in twenty years to bring Nathan’s wife Ashley a gift for Christmas. Santa was nervous though and decided to tread lightly. He could recall the incident so many years ago as clearly as if it were yesterday.

            Twenty years ago santa arrived to the Wilson house. Silently he crept, stopping only to snack on some cookies. Then suddenly a little four-year-old boy appeared from the darkness. “Hello, little boy” Santa said, with a warm smile. The small child was cute enough, but hardly innocent. Because just as santa went to pat the boys head, the little four year old triggered some kind of booby trap, making a rope wrap around santas leg and fling him into the air. He hit the ceiling then dropped back down, hanging from his foot like a giant red piñata. The little boy then beat santa with a rubber snake until the little devil got tired and fell asleep. Santa eventually freed himself and vowed to never return.

            Year after year he watched Nathan grow, hoping for some kind of change in behavior, something to put the child back on the nice list. But every year, was the same. Tormenting his poor cousin Stephen. Beating on his innocent siblings and even going so far as to burn down an orphanage.

            So the night had arrived and Santa crept into the House of Nathan and Ashley. Holding a gift in one hand and Candy cane fighting staff in the other. Then Nathan stepped out of the shadows the devils smirk across his face. “Hello Santa, is that for me?” He asked. Santa noticed Nathan was carrying an axe and readied himself for battle. “No, the only thing you get is a one way ticket to hell!” Shouted the emotionally scarred Santa as he lunged at Nathan with his fighting cane. “Bring it on, Fatman!” yelled Nathan as he chopped down with his axe, striking the cane, but to his surprise it was made of steel, not candy. “Ha, you will not get the drop on me kid” Santa said then struck Nathan’s leg with the cane, sending the menacing figure to the ground. “You old fool, you can’t expect to win!” Nathan said as he jumped up and struck santa with the axe.

            Santa stumbled backward, out of breath and slightly wounded. Nathan approached, his axe ready to strike again, when suddenly Ashley bust into the room. “Nathan, NO! we talked about this” She said angrily. Nathan’s eyes went wide. “B-but” He began to say, but then Santa took his chance to strike and delivered a sucker punch right to Nathan’s face. Nathan growled and stumbled backward holding his face, then the fat man made his escape, leaving the gift behind, tucked away under the tree.

            Up the chimney and to his sleigh he went. He flew off with his reindeer, going half way around the world before stopping to finish his Christmas deliveries.

So another year past and all the good little girls and boys got their gifts, meanwhile Nathan plots his revenge. So until next year, Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.

(Disclaimer: Any characters used in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real life people either alive or dead is merely coincidental)

Spending Christmas alone

Christmas music played softly in the background in a dimly lit room. A man named Andrew sat at his writing desk with a mug of eggnog. Most of his apartment lights were off, but he had a string of multicolored Christmas lights running along the top of the wall. This was one of his favorite times of the year and was always a time to be joyful. This year was different though, this was the first year in a few years that he had been single for Christmas. Andrew wasn’t the type that needed girlfriends, but there was one specific girl named Rachel that he met around Christmas two years ago. The excitement of a new relationship mixed with the holiday cheer that he was already feeling.

            On Christmas eve they would visit her family, then on Christmas night they would visit his. Christmas morning however was just for them. They would make love in the morning, have a simple breakfast and then Andrew would get as excited as a kid to open his presents. They would exchange gifts, Rachel always tried to guess what was in the box before she opened it, she never did get one right. After they opened presents Rachel insisted they listen to Christmas music to relax before more family stuff.

            Present day and Andrew continued to listen to the music in the background, it was their favorite holiday CD. Tears filled his eyes, as every little thing around the holidays would remind him of her. It was strange that having someone around for the holidays made it twice as fun, but when the person is gone, it ruins everything. Andrew still had his health, his job and his family and for that, he was grateful, but still, something was missing. He thought of her constantly and doing so made his chest hurt, like he was being stabbed in the heart. It had been ten long months since they broke up and it hurt for a while, but Andrew thought he had gotten over it. Before the holiday season he was even feeling confident enough to start dating again. But then the cold weather set in and the jingle bells started to play and Andrew was reduced to a miserable helpless mass.

            The eggnog he was drinking was full of rum, he drank it down in one gulp. He was already drunk and this would only add to it. He didn’t care though. He needed something to help him forget the pain, to drown his sorrows. Andrew eyed his phone, but kept stopping himself before he called anyone. He was sober enough to know that no one wanted to talk to him in his current state and trying to contact Rachel would be a really bad idea, especially if he was drunk. He just wished for a few months they could be together again, have the old holiday feeling back, then they could go their separate ways.

            Andrews mind tormented him, playing over what he did wrong and what she did wrong and all the bad stuff that split them up. He couldn’t drop it, even though it hurt so bad to even think about her. In a fit of confusion and rage, Andrew threw his empty mug, shattering it against the wall then began to weep softly. His emotional pain felt like physical pain too, that plus the alcohol made him act like a wounded animal. How badly he wished he could find comfort. Comfort from his loneliness and from his own tormented mind.

            It hurt now but the pain would heal, he just needed to get through one day at a time and things would eventually get better. Then his phone rang, he rushed for the phone and answered it. “Hello?” Andrew said, drunkenly. “Merry Christmas, Andrew” Rachel said from the other end, rather meekly. Andrew’s heart sank into his stomach. How badly he wanted to say her name and go see her, to find comfort in her and pretend everything was back to normal. Andrew cried silently. “Hello? Are you there?” Rachel asked sounding worried. Andrew loved her, she was the only woman he ever loved and moments ago he would have given his right leg to talk to her again. But now, it just didn’t seem right. He didn’t know why she called, but things would never go back to normal, they would never be the same. Unable to speak and not knowing what to say, he hung up the phone. She might call right back, or she might never call him again. Right now, it didn’t matter.

            As soon as the phone clicked shut, he instantly regretted his decision. For another thirty minutes he threw himself around the room, arguing with himself and wondering if he made the right decision. When he eventually sobered up the next day, he decided that he did in fact make the right decision. That chapter of his life was over and it was time to move on. The rest of the holiday season was still lonely for Andrew, but who knows, maybe in the future Christmas will take on a new feeling for him and it will be a happy time, once again.

Winter road

            As I walk down this road, I wonder where the time has gone. I march, leaving behind a forest of autumn trees, pumpkins and rain-scented land. Ahead of me is snow as far as the eye can see. Peacefully it drifts through the air and lands gently on the ground, millions of tiny snowflakes dancing on the wind for a short moment before gathering together in mass. Cold wind blows in my face, as if trying to push me back, but still I march. 

            I’ve made this trip countless times over millions of years. The seasons change as I walk down this road. Spring starts the birth of a new year, then summer a time to enjoy the warmth you have in your life, Autumn is a time to reflect on your life and Winter is the end, a time to enjoy the time you have left with the ones you love. So I leave the world of the harvest and set down this winter road, to a world of holidays, celebration and warmth against the cold night.

            My mind drifts back into memories, remembering good times of winter and Christmas as I look forward to the new winter fast approaching. I love listening to the Christmas music that stays the same every year, yet never seems to get old. I crave nostalgia almost as I crave warm desserts.

             Traveling on this winter road is wonderful as it is difficult. The snow looks so nice in the daylight as sun shines off the ice, making it sparkle. Animals play in the snow and the fields of pure white are a sight to behold. When the sun goes down stars sparkle brightly across the clear night sky. The beauty of nature always impresses me, year after year. Though to say it gets cold and a little lonely out here is an understatement. The wind blows so harshly that I feel it cut through my coat and chill my bones. Walking through snow is also very tiring and when your walking alone, the journey seems a little tougher.

            Winter is so diverse, that might be why I like it so much. It is such a mixed bag of good and bad with so many different emotions to experience. So I make this trip down the winter road, walking my way through the season, headed north for the holidays. But now its time I leave you, but I wish to leave you with warm thoughts, thoughts of family, sitting by the fire staring out at the snow, bright lights, and delicious food.

            Have a happy holiday and I will see you again in the spring.

Mac's Choice

Death sat silently next to Mac. Death looked like a young girl with cold eyes, her clothes black and almost shapeless like they were formed from shadows. Mac was a twenty something year old man with a red hoodie and a bad haircut. Mac palmed his face with one hand, in his other hand he held a gun. The two figures stood silently in an alleyway in a big city. It was a city full of people, yet Mac never felt so alone. With so many people jammed into a city, would anyone notice if someone went missing, or if someone died?

“I don’t know what you’re waiting for, the answers won’t come any clearer” Death spoke, her words so cold that it chilled the air. Mac hesitated and seemed uneasy. “you act like its not a big deal” Mac replied. “I see it every day, so to me, it isn’t
 Death explained. Mac held his gun out and put it up to his head as his hands trembled. “Your life is pointless. What do you contribute to anything? You sedate your brain with television and beer, you work for a paycheck, not for the better of anything. Your paycheck only buys more television and beer. If you had any real friends you wouldn’t be standing in this alley with a gun, talking to yourself” Death explained. She reached out and ran a delicate finger down the side of Mac’s face. “Haven’t you ever heard of embracing death? I wonder why people don’t try it more” She said seductively. Her eyes just as icy cold as before, but her face was a fake pout as if trying to be cute. Mac looked at Death and cursed under his breath. Death wasn’t a women, it just decided to look this way for now. Even though the girl was pale and covered in black clothes and shadows, her dainty frame, round eyes and curves all made her rather attractive.

“You’re the devil!” Mac cursed, annoyed that Death was trying to seduce him into pulling the trigger. Death laughed “no my dear, I am not. If you ever meet the devil, you will know it instantly. Besides, I’m not making you do anything, I didn’t even lead you here to this alley. You bought a gun and walked here, I am here to collect you when your done” Death replied, sounding innocent.

Mac’s body continued to tremble. He didn’t want to die, but he had nothing to live for. Just being alive hurt. His body ached constantly and he was so lonely his emotional pain only seemed to add to his physical pain. He searched his mind for a reason to live, anything. He thought about friends, surely his buddies would miss him. They might at first, but their busy lives would sweep up their attention again. His family would miss him, but only because they liked to use him. He had a car and a little money so he would get phone calls when he was of use. Mac didn’t have a girlfriend and the last girl he dated was a bitch, adding to the list of bitches that Mac knew. He hoped not all women were terrible, but it was difficult to believe when he only met terrible people.

Mac didn’t have much going for him, so would he be throwing anything away if he died? People are born and others die, every single day. What is the worth of a human life, more importantly, what is the worth of Mac’s life? Mac didn’t have any answers. He didn’t want to die, he wanted his life to be better, but he didn’t know how to make it better and continuing on the same path wasn’t an option.

Mac tightened his grip on the gun as death watched, smiling softly to herself. Mac pulled the trigger and a shot range out. After one loud bang, the alley was quiet again. No one came running, no one noticed. The world moved on. The world continued to be a wonderful place for some and a terrible nightmare for others. Mac’s life had absolutely no impact on history, social events or the progress of the world. Yet if Mac’s life was so worthless why did Death show up personally to collect him? And when She did show up to see Mac hadn’t killed himself, why did she even care to persuade him?

Mac thought about all of these things before he pulled the trigger and when he finally did, the gun wasn’t aimed at his head, it was aimed at Death. Mac knew shooting Death wouldn’t do anything, but he made his point. Without saying a word, Death vanished, leaving Mac alone with his thoughts. He didn’t know what his life was worth now and maybe it wasn’t worth anything now, but he was determined to find out what it could be worth in the future and maybe he would then finally find something worth living for.

Happy Thanksgiving

Hello everyone and Happy thanksgiving. I had a story all lined up for this week but was unable to finish it. Stories will continue next week.