One- Genesis
The tree almost touched the sky, letting its branches dance with the wind. Gregor sat Indian style against it, watching the ballet of branches as the fall winds whistled. The boy gave a deep sigh to the autumn leaves that fell, discolored and dry. They died, and their bodies were being taken to rest in a leaf graveyard where they would break apart and feed the soil.
Death. The part of life that is inevitable was one of the things that never scared the boy because it was just that; inevitable. Every being on the planet was born to die and that is the way it was taught to him. To Gregor, fifteen years ago might not have happened if something went wrong in the womb. In fact, he considered himself to be lucky to make it to fifteen years on this day. No matter what, he remained solemn in conversations of death, but not because it didn’t matter. Again, death was not something he feared, but living life alone was what kept him up at night.
Alone. The day he thought would never come reared its head around a poorly lit corner. Underneath the tree, the sun was almost directly over top of it and noon was right around the corner. Facing the house; the house filled only with the ghost of his parents’ presence. It haunted him with its drafty breathes of unaided cynicism and sat with the back door open; an invitation to spend more time in its empty belly. An empty house was a dead house as far as Gregor was concerned. And so, with his back against the tree, he let his eyes close while he sank into his thoughts.
Loneliness, frustration, vigor; they all came together to form something he hadn’t thought of at first, but once the thought came to him, the boy assembled what to him was a masterpiece. Loneliness came from his lack of peers; they didn’t understand why he didn’t fear death, yet he didn’t understand their motives for understanding him. Therefore, a consciousness was formed, a mind which could understand the depths of his soul and posses the will to comfort.
Frustration surfaced from the multiple attempts to connect with his family. With Gregor as the only child, he had no one to talk to after school; no one to play with. His mother was around, but not enough to see him grow and learn and think for himself. From this came a quadruped body of small proportion and orange to red scales; the embodiment of the life he wished he had, but could not reach. It slithered away from him as if he did not deserve it.
Vigor was Gregor’s own force; the life, which would bring life to this creature. The energy he possessed to make such a creature and the passion to solve his own woe would power his ambition. He wanted a companion, but life hadn’t been kind to him. So, he would forge his own, and the possibilities were endless. For now, he would find a friend in the life of his own work of brainpower and art.
A voice echoed, but not from the creatures’ mouth. Food.
The voice was definitely male, but it broke at times as Gregor’s did. He blinked at his creator; his eyes slanted and almond shaped.
The lizard opened its slanted eyes and stood in front of Gregor, seemingly studying the boy. Gregor also opened his eyes, but he was not surprised at the new arrival. Smiling, he began to laugh, “Happy Birthday to me.”
Wind picked up now, blowing the leaves around him and his- friend. Imaginary was one thing; one could always create some kind of unrealistic thing to call their imaginary friend, but this was something else. The lizard was unrealistic, yes, but it stood in front of him. It was there, and it was real, wasn’t it? Its scales were soft and a little moist, and Gregor was touching it as if it were a dog or a cat or some other ‘normal’ animal. Where did it come from? He was just sitting under the tree with his eyes closed. Maybe his wish for a friend brought this creature to him; maybe it was his wish being granted. It made sense, right? He didn’t hear it approach him through the crunchy leaves that littered the ground around him, so it must have just appeared.
For once, he was fine if the weird and unexplainable were left unexplained. It was time to have fun. Obviously, this thing was able to speak, or something like that; some sort of communication in which Gregor could be understood. He had to try something, parting his lips into a smile, "Hi."
At first, nothing happened. He didn’t hear anything or see the creature open his mouth, but the voice echoed in his head again. Hi.
A breath of relief left the boys’ mouth as he heard the voice in his head again. For a moment, he thought he was hearing voices in his head; for a moment, he thought he was going crazy. But he was hearing a voice in his head that wasn’t his own. Could it be? It didn’t make any sense whatsoever, but he didn’t care. Gregor knew on some level, beyond any doubt, that the creature in front of him was some kind of psychic. It didn’t make any sense to speak regularly anymore. If the lizard was projecting thoughts into his head, maybe he could pick up what Gregor was thinking. He thought very hard, pushing one question out toward the creature.
Do you know who I am? Gregor asked, swallowing hard as he waited for a reply.
Hi. The greeting was repeated. Gregor wasn’t sure what the creature was doing, but he repeated the question. Looking into the creatures’ eyes, he saw a bit of personality there, but none at the same time. It was like the lizard was limited in its knowledge of interacting with others. Hi.
Something occurred to the boy, though. What did the creature say to him when he first came? Food. It said the word food, so at least its vocabulary wasn’t limited. It knew what it wanted and how to request it; if it was even a request. With only one way to find out, the boy pushed with his mind; he pushed the one word that it might respond to. Food?
Just like last time, a moment passed before a response echoed in his head. The lizard now cocked his head at him, its tongue emerged and worked its way around his lips, or what Gregor assumes where lips. Food.
So it wants food, huh? That seemed to be the logical assumption since he couldn’t think of anything else. His friend was hungry, and what kind of friend would he be if he didn’t get his friend some food. But there was one trouble, what did lizards eat? The only animal he knew how to feed was his cat, Jenny, and all he did was put cat food in her bowl. This, however, was clearly different. There was no bowl, no food, and no direction as to what his newly created friend wanted for a meal. But a more important query remained, and it bothered him more than the issue of what to feed it, “Where did you come from?”
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Solace
Prologue: Professionals for Profit
Get in, do the job, and get out. That was rule we followed every time. My stomach was turning when it all went down. I thought it was just pre-mission jitters, but it was more than that; I had an example to set. We were paid to go through uphold the law in all senses of the term. We disarmed bombs, killed national crime lords, and we were gone before they knew what hit them. Don’t get me wrong, I did my job with no problem, but it wasn’t everything to me.
“Hey, Jelly!” That is my pseudonym in this line of work, and it dribbled out of Peanut Butter’s mouth after he took a sip out of his canteen. And that’s how we go together; like Peanut Butter and Jelly. The chopper sailed over the buildings below. I gripped my vest to make sure it was on tight and lifted my bulletproof facemask to acknowledge him, “This is gonna be a good one, man.”
Of all the danger, from the Gulf War to soldier-for-hire, P.B cared more about the money than his own life. He’s the youngest operative I’ve worked with, and I considered him the closest thing I had to a friend. I nodded and gave him a fist pound, “Check your weapon.”
“Already did, man!” He petted his gun on the side like it was his girl or something.
“Well, check it again! A jammed weapon is as useless as a dead partner!” He knew I was right, and that remembering what we learned in the field was important to any mission. “Yeah, yeah.” He shook his hand, beginning his weapon check again, “You always say that, you know?”
“And for good reason! You know what I’m talking about.” He did; I knew he did because he took a long sigh, but remained silent.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.” He was sent to take out some arms dealer a few years back. His weapon jammed and he got himself caught and was tortured for months. I was the one who got him back. He was a new recruit back then, and rookies always forget to check their weapons before a mission; it was written all over his face back then.
“Yeah, right. Well, lesson learned, huh?” P.B smirked and rolled his eyes. He’s shown great potential, and I couldn’t think of anyone else to watch my back.
The ride was bumpy, but the pilot knew what he was doing as he hovered the chopper over the roof of the building. P.B went first, sliding quickly down the rope and taking a defensive position while scoping out the area. I donned my mask once again and followed, keeping my eyes open for anyone who might be patrolling the roof. Above us, the helicopter glided away.
I signaled my partner to make his way to the access door. The area beyond the door was clear, and we dashed through. We had five floors to traverse and we couldn’t waste any time. The bad guys were getting impatient and they threatened to start killing hostages unless their demands were met. They had rounded up everyone working in the building and forced them into the vault, so I was confident that hostages wouldn’t be in the way.
Two floors down, and no enemy contacts yet. I knelt behind a desk, screwing a silencer onto my gun. Peaking cautiously around my cover, I caught a glimpse of the mayhem that occurred earlier. The room was definitely busy during the day with three rows of desks lined up as though they were in elementary school. They faced the back of the room where the fancy offices were, their backs to the door that lead to more stairs. I kept my head down, and made my way to the door that lead to the base of the stairwell.
“How many bad guys again?” P.B whispered
“Intel said ten to eleven guys with semi automatics,” I whispered back. I turned the knob slowly and let my gun lead me into the stairwell, “So, you want the air vent this time?”
I heard a scoff come from behind me. He never liked going through air vents for anything, but as he was the smaller of us, it made more sense. And it helped get the job done quicker, anyway.
“Yeah, yeah,” he responded. I watched him look for the best point of entry in the paneled ceiling. Finding one, I holstered my weapon and offered my knee and hands to boost him up. Pushing a panel aside, he was up and ready to go, “Aw, it smells in here.”
“I’ll see you down there. Wait for my signal.” I left him to his work and made my way back to the door. Slowly moving down the stairs, I saw the entrance to the second floor was open. My instincts buzzed and I slowly crept to it, peaking inside to see two men in black holding automatic weapons. Obviously, they didn’t work at the bank. They stood facing the door on the opposite side of the room. I gripped the trigger and trusted my aim as I kicked the door open. They turned to respond to my intrusion, but one was falling as he did so. Before I knew what happened, the other fell along with his accomplice. The tip of my weapon smoked, but I looked for more enemies before lowering it. Headshots weren’t easy, but they got the job done. I felt the twinge that comes with every kill, but quickly remembered it was better them than me. Besides, I had a job to do.
I kept moving to the next stairwell, and slipped in without so much as a squeak from my boots on the tiled floor. The entrance to the first floor from the stairwell was less straightforward as it led into an open waiting area for the elevators. The floor plan showed that the waiting area led to the main lobby with teller booths and private offices. I could see the main revolving door from the stairwell, and it seemed like an eternity between where I stood and where the enemy sat.
Two broke off from the main group in the middle and went to the left, where the vault should be. The remaining three stood in the middle and twitched as the police waited outside. I assumed that they were nervous; they were cornered and it looked as though their hostage plan was the only Plan B they had.
P.B should have made it to the lobby through the vents by now, and then we could end this. I opened the door slowly and hid in a corner next to the door. Again, it wasn’t my favorite thing to do, but headshots seemed appropriate. I was on the move again. In seconds, the tallest of the three was on the floor leaving the others aware of my presence. They turned to me, and then looked at each other in panic; time was up. Survival of the fittest was the soundtrack to this movie.
Just then, the two in front of me fell quickly, giving me a chance to reach the lobby. The seconds didn’t seem to pass quickly enough; I ducked into the closest room to my right. I found my partner waiting behind the desk.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about your signal.” By that time, the guys that were left knew we were there, and I didn’t need to look over the desk to know that they had taken defensive positions, “It’s crap.”
“I’ll work on that when you work on your timing. They almost got me!” I hunkered down as to avoid being seen.
P.B looked over to me, his voice sarcastic and plucky, “Aw, come on. It wouldn’t have been so bad.”
“Whatever. I took out two on the second floor and with the three just now, that should leave six by the vault.”
“Seven. I counted when I was in the vent,” I could feel him mocking me under his facemask.
I saw my partner follow my actions in reloading as we sat on the floor of the small office. We had to move soon or they would surely open fire on us. I took this as my chance to move, scrambling to my feet while P.B slid over the top of the desk. Taking aim, I saw one man standing behind an overturned table, a mistake on his part. His blood must have sprayed on his mate, because another stood immediately. His screams assured me that he wasn’t used to blood; let alone been washed in it. He went down, as well.
We moved together; his gun echoed through the lobby, while mine whispered death into their ears. Rushing their position forced them into a panic. They were forced to try and get away from us, but there was nowhere else to go. Like I said; better them than me. P.B and I went separate directions to flank the targets and take them down. Three. Two. One. My partner and I were the only ones left standing after what didn’t seem like much of a battle.
“Easy as ever!” I heard P.B say. I looked and nodded. Encouragement after a job was always a good thing, besides the generous pay. All of that aside, a thought entered my mind; one that had never entered my mind on a job until now. That was too easy.
In the seconds that followed, ideas rattled my brain. I mean, the enemy didn’t try to stop us; didn’t even fire a single shot. What the hell kind of hold-up was this?
No. I couldn’t get wrapped up in any conspiracy theories; not now. Our orders were clear; we were to take out the eleven or so gunmen and secure the hostages. It was as simple as that, and we did the job quite well.
The vault was in our sights and it was cracked open. I holstered my weapon and helped P.B push the door open. The group huddled together on the floor definitely looked terrified. They probably had no idea what we were going to do to them, but as they raised their heads, I could see the relief in their eyes.
They scrambled to their feet and ran out when I gestured to the main lobby. P.B and I watched them almost trample each other to get to the revolving doors where officer escorted them down the steps where the media flashed pictures and tried to get comments.
The police were coming up the steps to the door. My partner and I couldn’t stay for them or the press; our job wasn’t to interact with the public on the job. Actually, we were strongly advised against it; we were meant to be ghosts in our field of work. We got in to do a mission, and like that, we were gone.
Back on the roof in no time, P.B and I burst through the door. Already, my partner was on the radio, “P.B. to Command; Mission Accomplished.”
Get in, do the job, and get out. That was rule we followed every time. My stomach was turning when it all went down. I thought it was just pre-mission jitters, but it was more than that; I had an example to set. We were paid to go through uphold the law in all senses of the term. We disarmed bombs, killed national crime lords, and we were gone before they knew what hit them. Don’t get me wrong, I did my job with no problem, but it wasn’t everything to me.
“Hey, Jelly!” That is my pseudonym in this line of work, and it dribbled out of Peanut Butter’s mouth after he took a sip out of his canteen. And that’s how we go together; like Peanut Butter and Jelly. The chopper sailed over the buildings below. I gripped my vest to make sure it was on tight and lifted my bulletproof facemask to acknowledge him, “This is gonna be a good one, man.”
Of all the danger, from the Gulf War to soldier-for-hire, P.B cared more about the money than his own life. He’s the youngest operative I’ve worked with, and I considered him the closest thing I had to a friend. I nodded and gave him a fist pound, “Check your weapon.”
“Already did, man!” He petted his gun on the side like it was his girl or something.
“Well, check it again! A jammed weapon is as useless as a dead partner!” He knew I was right, and that remembering what we learned in the field was important to any mission. “Yeah, yeah.” He shook his hand, beginning his weapon check again, “You always say that, you know?”
“And for good reason! You know what I’m talking about.” He did; I knew he did because he took a long sigh, but remained silent.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.” He was sent to take out some arms dealer a few years back. His weapon jammed and he got himself caught and was tortured for months. I was the one who got him back. He was a new recruit back then, and rookies always forget to check their weapons before a mission; it was written all over his face back then.
“Yeah, right. Well, lesson learned, huh?” P.B smirked and rolled his eyes. He’s shown great potential, and I couldn’t think of anyone else to watch my back.
The ride was bumpy, but the pilot knew what he was doing as he hovered the chopper over the roof of the building. P.B went first, sliding quickly down the rope and taking a defensive position while scoping out the area. I donned my mask once again and followed, keeping my eyes open for anyone who might be patrolling the roof. Above us, the helicopter glided away.
I signaled my partner to make his way to the access door. The area beyond the door was clear, and we dashed through. We had five floors to traverse and we couldn’t waste any time. The bad guys were getting impatient and they threatened to start killing hostages unless their demands were met. They had rounded up everyone working in the building and forced them into the vault, so I was confident that hostages wouldn’t be in the way.
Two floors down, and no enemy contacts yet. I knelt behind a desk, screwing a silencer onto my gun. Peaking cautiously around my cover, I caught a glimpse of the mayhem that occurred earlier. The room was definitely busy during the day with three rows of desks lined up as though they were in elementary school. They faced the back of the room where the fancy offices were, their backs to the door that lead to more stairs. I kept my head down, and made my way to the door that lead to the base of the stairwell.
“How many bad guys again?” P.B whispered
“Intel said ten to eleven guys with semi automatics,” I whispered back. I turned the knob slowly and let my gun lead me into the stairwell, “So, you want the air vent this time?”
I heard a scoff come from behind me. He never liked going through air vents for anything, but as he was the smaller of us, it made more sense. And it helped get the job done quicker, anyway.
“Yeah, yeah,” he responded. I watched him look for the best point of entry in the paneled ceiling. Finding one, I holstered my weapon and offered my knee and hands to boost him up. Pushing a panel aside, he was up and ready to go, “Aw, it smells in here.”
“I’ll see you down there. Wait for my signal.” I left him to his work and made my way back to the door. Slowly moving down the stairs, I saw the entrance to the second floor was open. My instincts buzzed and I slowly crept to it, peaking inside to see two men in black holding automatic weapons. Obviously, they didn’t work at the bank. They stood facing the door on the opposite side of the room. I gripped the trigger and trusted my aim as I kicked the door open. They turned to respond to my intrusion, but one was falling as he did so. Before I knew what happened, the other fell along with his accomplice. The tip of my weapon smoked, but I looked for more enemies before lowering it. Headshots weren’t easy, but they got the job done. I felt the twinge that comes with every kill, but quickly remembered it was better them than me. Besides, I had a job to do.
I kept moving to the next stairwell, and slipped in without so much as a squeak from my boots on the tiled floor. The entrance to the first floor from the stairwell was less straightforward as it led into an open waiting area for the elevators. The floor plan showed that the waiting area led to the main lobby with teller booths and private offices. I could see the main revolving door from the stairwell, and it seemed like an eternity between where I stood and where the enemy sat.
Two broke off from the main group in the middle and went to the left, where the vault should be. The remaining three stood in the middle and twitched as the police waited outside. I assumed that they were nervous; they were cornered and it looked as though their hostage plan was the only Plan B they had.
P.B should have made it to the lobby through the vents by now, and then we could end this. I opened the door slowly and hid in a corner next to the door. Again, it wasn’t my favorite thing to do, but headshots seemed appropriate. I was on the move again. In seconds, the tallest of the three was on the floor leaving the others aware of my presence. They turned to me, and then looked at each other in panic; time was up. Survival of the fittest was the soundtrack to this movie.
Just then, the two in front of me fell quickly, giving me a chance to reach the lobby. The seconds didn’t seem to pass quickly enough; I ducked into the closest room to my right. I found my partner waiting behind the desk.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about your signal.” By that time, the guys that were left knew we were there, and I didn’t need to look over the desk to know that they had taken defensive positions, “It’s crap.”
“I’ll work on that when you work on your timing. They almost got me!” I hunkered down as to avoid being seen.
P.B looked over to me, his voice sarcastic and plucky, “Aw, come on. It wouldn’t have been so bad.”
“Whatever. I took out two on the second floor and with the three just now, that should leave six by the vault.”
“Seven. I counted when I was in the vent,” I could feel him mocking me under his facemask.
I saw my partner follow my actions in reloading as we sat on the floor of the small office. We had to move soon or they would surely open fire on us. I took this as my chance to move, scrambling to my feet while P.B slid over the top of the desk. Taking aim, I saw one man standing behind an overturned table, a mistake on his part. His blood must have sprayed on his mate, because another stood immediately. His screams assured me that he wasn’t used to blood; let alone been washed in it. He went down, as well.
We moved together; his gun echoed through the lobby, while mine whispered death into their ears. Rushing their position forced them into a panic. They were forced to try and get away from us, but there was nowhere else to go. Like I said; better them than me. P.B and I went separate directions to flank the targets and take them down. Three. Two. One. My partner and I were the only ones left standing after what didn’t seem like much of a battle.
“Easy as ever!” I heard P.B say. I looked and nodded. Encouragement after a job was always a good thing, besides the generous pay. All of that aside, a thought entered my mind; one that had never entered my mind on a job until now. That was too easy.
In the seconds that followed, ideas rattled my brain. I mean, the enemy didn’t try to stop us; didn’t even fire a single shot. What the hell kind of hold-up was this?
No. I couldn’t get wrapped up in any conspiracy theories; not now. Our orders were clear; we were to take out the eleven or so gunmen and secure the hostages. It was as simple as that, and we did the job quite well.
The vault was in our sights and it was cracked open. I holstered my weapon and helped P.B push the door open. The group huddled together on the floor definitely looked terrified. They probably had no idea what we were going to do to them, but as they raised their heads, I could see the relief in their eyes.
They scrambled to their feet and ran out when I gestured to the main lobby. P.B and I watched them almost trample each other to get to the revolving doors where officer escorted them down the steps where the media flashed pictures and tried to get comments.
The police were coming up the steps to the door. My partner and I couldn’t stay for them or the press; our job wasn’t to interact with the public on the job. Actually, we were strongly advised against it; we were meant to be ghosts in our field of work. We got in to do a mission, and like that, we were gone.
Back on the roof in no time, P.B and I burst through the door. Already, my partner was on the radio, “P.B. to Command; Mission Accomplished.”
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Mission Statement
I am a graduate of the University of Hartford. I like explosive movies, shiny cars, and good food. Most importantly, I am a writer. I have been published a few times, but I don't claim to know everything about writing. Heck, I struggle with writing on a daily basis to the point where I barely get any writing done.
But I plan to change that with this blog. I'm going to be posting some writing every week, if not every day. I would be grateful for some constructive comments on my creative work as I am always learning. I will also be posting reviews and previews of video games that I've been playing, so look out for those, as well. I look forward to reaching 100 post by the end of this year, and I aim to reach that goal! In the meantime, read the posts, make some comments, spread the word!
V
But I plan to change that with this blog. I'm going to be posting some writing every week, if not every day. I would be grateful for some constructive comments on my creative work as I am always learning. I will also be posting reviews and previews of video games that I've been playing, so look out for those, as well. I look forward to reaching 100 post by the end of this year, and I aim to reach that goal! In the meantime, read the posts, make some comments, spread the word!
V
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