Writer: Timothy Dumont Jr.
Co-writer: Crystal Ferguson
Showing posts with label Patrick. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Patrick. Show all posts

Monday, January 2, 2012

Flashback 218: Gilfred -Indigo-

I had never met a Constant before. I barely even believed that they existed. Humans had everything wrong. They thought there was a single being responsible for the creation of the world. They lived by the belief that everything began somewhere, but that was a flawed view. The universe has always been and would always be. The universe was one of those Constants. Something that always was and would always be.

It was a hard concept for mortals to understand and even I had trouble believing it. There I was though, standing outside of the home of a legend. Gilfred was a Constant, someone whose stories were told to me as a child. I walked up onto the porch and lifted the knocker above which the initials G.O.D. were inscribed. I dropped the heavy weight and let it fall once.

Patrick had spent his life looking for this one man, if he was a man. Gender probably meant as little as age when referring to a  Constant. They weren't something that could be defined by those categories. I turned and glanced at the car. Inside lay a sleeping Patrick, a child for the time being. It wouldn't be until he got older that he would regain the memories he once had. His vessel's sister had been born yesterday so I had been left to care for him, a task I had wanted to avoid. I didn't want him to think of me as a parental figure because of my feelings toward him.

No answer from the door. I reached up to knock again. It had taken me years to find his residence, and I didn't expect him to be here. His house sat in the center of a massive field, a monument to his power it would have been, if it wasn't surrounded by small, wooden crosses. Thousands, if not millions of them surrounded the house, each one with a name and date. The neighbors said that when he first moved here there weren't any crosses, but over the years more and more began to appear.

I pulled my hand away from the door and glanced at the car again. Why was I hesitant? Patrick believed completely that this man was safe, but something in me was screaming to just walk away; just leave this thing alone because it wasn't worth the trouble.

If I did, then Patrick would never forgive me. The other people of our race had forsaken him, claiming that his words were lies. So he left them, choosing with conviction to side with the one race that seemed to be the only that wasn't too blind to see when things were getting bad. Humans.

I couldn't understand his faith in them. He seemed set in the belief that this entire time, humans had been the superior race. Our kind had enslaved them, done horrible things to them, made them believe things that gave us more power, but Patrick believed in their potential. I had asked him why he believed this so much and he asked me to think back to a time when humans weren't around. Even before the realm of humans, there were humans in the Other Lands; in the oldest history books, the ones buried in our forgotten cities, they were still spoken of from first page to last.

This fact scared me to my core. As far back as I looked, humans were always there. My fear came to the notice of Patrick, who took me back in the basement of his Other Lands home. There he showed me a large block of cave wall. On it were symbols that I recognized as the first roots of our language system, and right there in the most rudimentary of writings was the word Human. Patrick proceeded to explain that he thought humans were a Constant, not individual humans, but the human race as a whole. He believed they had an untapped potential, one that only manifested when their race was in danger of extinction; a bestowing of abilities to seemingly random humans, who would become the shield and sword needed to weather any storm. He showed me thousands of documents, all of them a record of times when the human race triumphed against odds that were completely unreal.

I lifted the knocker and dropped it again.

"I have something to show you Indigo." A voice behind me spoke and I instinctively branched out my power, but it was deflected. It had never been deflected before.

I turned to see an old man standing at the bottom of the porch stairs. He was smiling and I felt comforted by his presence.

"You must be Gilfred." I made my way down the stairs and followed him through the rows and rows of wooden crosses.

"When you've lived as long as I have," He brushed a hand across one of the wooden crosses, "you hardly ever make any mistakes. I'm sure you can understand that, given your races longevity, but I'm not sure you understand what it means to a person like me. A mistake of mine can have consequences that last for a very, very long time, and it will kill so many people."

"I'm not sure I understand."

He was quiet for several minutes while we walked through the unending field of crosses. Each one that he passed, he touched and he never smiled. Each cross he passed seemed like a weight on his mind and visible on his face as a burden. I could tell that to him each one was heavier than I could imagine.

"Each and every one, I put here. So that I never forget who they were and what they contributed to the universe, so I never forget what was lost. However, I believe there is only one that would have any relevance to Patrick, and in extension; you."

He stopped in front of a cross and pointed to it. Inscribed in the wood was a name. Mardockt. I stepped backward in shock and looked at the old man.

"Wh-What is this?" I was incredibly confused, Patrick believed Mardockt to be alive and trapped just waiting to escape. However, right in front of my face was proof, delivered by a being without age, that Mardockt was indeed lost.

"Humans were the most powerful of the Constants. They were because the entire universe and everything within it conformed to them. When humans were in danger, seemingly unrelated and inconsequential events took place bestowing seemingly random humans with powers that neither me nor you could understand. Then these humans turn out to be exactly what the race needs."

"You aren't making any sense. I came here to ask for your help, we need to kill Mardockt. We need you to kill Mardockt."

My head was still trying to get over the fact that Mardockt was dead. Patrick based every action that he made on the belief that Mardockt had been changed evil and that Mardockt had more power than he could imagine. Had Patrick been wrong?

"Only a Constant can create a Constant and the same inverted. Only a Constant can kill a Constant. Anything else that tries will be killed. I knew this, but in my loneliness I ignored that fact. The being you call Mardockt was created long before your friend unleashed him. It took me many years to learn how to create a Constant, and even longer to contain him."

Suddenly the weight of the field I stood in fell on me. Each one of these crosses were a life destroyed by the being Patrick was scared of, and because of Gilfred's guilt he lived everyday in the presence of monuments he'd created for them.

"This field," I felt a heaviness in my heart, "How many of them are of my race?"

"Patrick's friend, Mardockt, was not born without a power. When he was destroyed he created an anomaly in the universe. He was part of the protection that humans would need to survive."

"You aren't answering me."

"Don't you understand? Smell the air, look at the sky, you can see it everywhere. The human race is preparing to defend itself. I can feel the tendrils of fate weaving throughout the universe. I can see the dominoes falling in sequence as the universe and everything within it bends in attempt to ensure their survival. The last time I saw the universe react like this was back in the Ice Age, but even that wasn't anything compared to this."

"Stop speaking in riddles!" I stomped my foot causing the ground to tremble.

"The human race is scared. It doesn't know whether it can survive this time and because of this, the universe is not pulling any stops. Do you know what that does to me? I created the Constant that they're worried about. I caused the death of thousands and I can do nothing to help. I can only tell you the right direction."

"So what's the right direction?"

"Patrick's already headed in it, but he needs to find the anomaly. He needs to find it as soon as he can, because it will lead him to the only defense humans have."

"He's not interested in just saving the humans, he wants to save the universe. He wants you to lead the army he will create."

Gilfred smiled, "Indigo, you really need to be more understanding. A Constant is a Constant because it must be there. Without the human race then the universe loses meaning, and without a reason to exist it will fade away. I might survive as well as my creation, but the universe will evaporate. Take a look around you, I am not fit to lead an army, but maybe the anomaly will be."

I was angry, "You aren't the person I thought you were. I heard legends about you for as long as I've lived, but you're nothing but a sad old man who doesn't want to get his hands dirty. Patrick is more than you'll ever be."

Gilfred looked surprised as though I had said something he hadn't expected, "I have done enough. You may leave now, my answer is no. I will not join Patrick."

"Then I give you a message directly from him, if you will not help us then you will be hunted. You'll be hunted forever, because Patrick will not stop until he's either contained you or killed you."

As I turned to head back to the car, Gilfred laughed, "Patrick is an amazing person, very dedicated and willing to do what it takes, so I wait for the day when he comes to collect."

As I slid in next to Patrick, I couldn't help but feel a chill. Gilfred's words stirred something that I had stuffed away for a long time. Deep within my soul I felt the one thing besides love that controlled my actions.

Deep within I felt the cold hand of terror as the car pulled away from the house, the crosses and that horrible old man.

Sunday, December 25, 2011

Flashback 217: God-Rank -Indigo-

I was twenty-three when I earned my God-Rank. I was the second youngest person to earn their God rank; the first being Patrick at age 15.

I stood in front of my Father as he looked at me. He smiled and motioned for me to step forward. I had been waiting for this day even though I already knew what I would be God-ranking into. My power involved emotions; I could see and manipulate a person's emotions, but with my touch I could do all that, and create or destroy emotions as well. I was jumping right up to the top and becoming the Goddess of Emotions.

God-ranking was a rite of passage for most of us. We aspired toward it so we could find out where we ranked compared to our other classmates. Getting a rank could either give or take some power from the receiver, and very rarely did it ever leave them the same. It all really depended on what my Father decided was best, but most had a change to their abilities happen when they were ranked.

"Indigo, my dearest daughter, you have done well in proving yourself and you demonstrate incredible control over you ability, and that makes me proud."

I stood tall and proud like a daughter should. This was my moment.

"What doesn't make me proud is the relationship you have with Patrick. I've even heard rumors that you've joined him in his crusade to find an imaginary person. You spread rumors of a war that is going to be worse than the one we're in right now and you did all of this against my wishes."

My pride deflated like a popped balloon. How could I explain my feelings for Patrick? My feelings that had not been returned despite my best efforts. Everything my Father had said was happening started because I wanted to be noticed, but over time I realized that Patrick was speaking the truth and trying to save us from destruction.

"Dad, I didn't mean to disappoint you. Once I'm God-ranked then I'll be sure to make you proud."

"Or you could end up taking my rule right out from under me and giving it directly to Patrick." He slammed his hand on the throne's armrest, "You disobeyed a direct order from your ranking officer and your father. You have disgraced my name more than any has yet."

"But Father . . . " I felt the tears flow but didn't care, "I'm sorry."

"You have proved yourself to be capable of God-rank, that is true. So your rank shall be Goddess of Guilt, a title suitable for someone who has shamed their family so much."

I felt my powers slip away as I fell to my knees. I would no longer control all emotions, my control would center around guilt alone. Sadness at the loss of my ability built up in my chest and then slowly formed to anger. I pulled myself to my feet and smiled a dark smile at my Father.

The room became heavy with guilt. Some people burst into tears while others began tearing at their faces. I slowly intensified the feeling until everyone was trying to kill themselves over the guilt they felt. Except my Father. He sat there unaffected, like always. Our powers didn't work on our parents, something to do with protective powers through blood.

He stared at me angrily until the last person fell, "Are you done?"

I turned and stomped through the puddles of blood to the door, "I hate you."

I closed the door behind me and then fell to the floor in tears. How could he do that? How could my Father be so cruel? I thought he loved me, but I was nothing but a tool that had broken.

"So, I need a favor." It was Patrick and coming from across the hall.

I looked up at him, tears still streaming down my face, "Will it hurt my Father?"

"Yes. If I'm right, then it will do more than just hurt him."

I wiped the tears from my face, "You saw what happened in there?"

"No, but I did hear it. Your father is a very twisted man."

I ran up to hug him but he sidestepped, "Indigo, I can't ask anyone else to do this. I need your help."

I knew I would help him already. I wanted to make my Father suffer for destroying my powers like he did, "What do you need?"

"I need you to find someone willing to perform the needed spell so that I can go to the human realm. I think that's where Gilfred is hiding."

"I'll do it." I couldn't deny the request of someone I loved.

And I didn't care anymore.

Saturday, December 24, 2011

Flashback 216: I Will Not -Indigo-

The first time I saw him I was twelve. I was the eldest daughter of the headmaster of the academy, and as such was always present whenever someone was given an award or a punishment. From when I was old enough to understand, I'd heard legends about Patrick; how he'd been the most powerful child in the academy, how even as a lowly Janitor he was able to proceed in raising his rank. I had always wanted to meet him, but my Father said that he was a very dangerous young man that talks of blasphemy.

"Step up, Patrick." My Father's voice echoed through the chambers.

His handsome features took my breath away as he approached the throne. He stood almost as tall as my Father and had piercing eyes. He stood there with a face lacking emotion, but it was very evident to me that he felt a deep hatred toward everyone in the room. I could see it flowing around him like a windstorm. The control he had over his emotions was unbelievable; like nothing I'd ever seen. He was everything the legends had said and more.

"You speak of a man while you work? Would you mind explaining yourself to me?" My Father was trying to make Patrick comfortable, but it would never work. Patrick had a whirlwind of anger that even my Father couldn't destroy.

"Sir, if you may, this is not why I'm here. I have other things to atten-"

"You will answer, Patrick!"

"Yes," Patrick was unaffected by Father's rage, "Gilfred is the only being that can stop Mardockt. I think people should know that for the coming war. We need to find him, only then is there any way to survive, sir."

At this point my Father's rage matched Patrick's, "Mardockt is dead and Gilfred is an old myth. You will stop spreading these falsehoods throughout the community. We have enough to deal with at the moment."

"I will not."

No one had ever said that to my Father. All my life I'd seen people walk up with an opinion or suggestion and the second my father denied it, they would nod and leave. That wasn't all. Anyone willing to go against my Father's orders was as good as dead, but Patrick had no fear. It was all anger and hatred that flowed around him; a red and yellow inferno that wouldn't be weakened by the presence of any threat.

My Father sat there staring at Patrick for a moment. Then he stood and walked in front of Patrick. He raised his hand back and then down toward Patrick's face. My Father was very strong, the strongest person in the academy and combined with his ability he was practically unstoppable. The force from that swing could end the life of any student. Right then, I knew that the legends of Patrick were over. I would never be able to speak to such an unbelievable person again.

I was wrong. All the anger and hatred that Patrick had flowing around him was absorbed into himself instantly, and I watched as my Father's hand was stopped by Patrick's wrist. A loud smack echoed off the walls and then silence took the entire room. There Patrick stood, his wrist holding back Father's hand while the rest of the people present stared on; shocked by what they'd just witnessed. Dumb-founded we watched as Patrick pushed my Father's hand aside and followed up with a swing that missed my Father's face by inches. My Father had been so shocked that he had waited till the last second to move.

"I'm sorry that you think force can make me agree with your views. It must be disappointing to find out that you can't control all your students like you used to. I don't understand why my talk of Myths and the dead could warrant such a response, but I'm sure you have your reasons. Now, I came here for a reason and I'd like to see the purpose through to the end. Unless you'd like to try again, but next time my retaliation will not miss." Patrick spoke with a smooth voice that was filled with strength, fearlessness and raw power. There was no one in the room who could doubt what they'd just witnessed and many of them were getting up to leave the room; something that I was considering at the moment as well. If my Father and Patrick began to fight then this room would become a war zone.

My Father composed himself and sat down in the throne, "Indeed we did. Let's proceed then."

My Father's anger was still raging around him, but Patrick had no emotion at all; not in his face, not in his aura. In fact, it was as though he was aura-less. His body was surrounded by clear air with no hint of feeling anywhere.

"Patrick, you have done much to prove yourself even after you'd been permanently ranked as a Janitor. As such, I remove the restriction and appoint you into a God-title worthy of your prowess. I hereby appoint you with the title: God of Death." My Father smiled a sly smile.

Patrick frowned, "Sir, that's still a janitorial position and is never permitted to leave The Other Lands. I beg you to reconsider and give me another post."

"You expect me to allow you to spread those lies to the humans from the other realm? You must be kidding. You've got what you wanted, you had your rank increased. Leave."

Patrick bowed, turned and then left. The people witnessing the ranking left shortly after leaving me, my father and his adviser alone.

"Sir. I think it was the wrong choice ranking him after that show of utter disobedience. You should have killed him right then." His adviser chose his words carefully.

"You think I didn't try?" My Father glanced in my direction and then back at his adviser, "He stopped me. He's less than half my age and he just brushed the hit aside."

"Shall I send the guards to pick him up?"

"They can't. We currently don't have any guards with enough poser to stop him. Right now we have him following our rules," My Father rubbed his cheek where he'd been nearly hit, "We don't want to provoke him to start breaking them."

The adviser noticed my Father rubbing his face, "Did he hit you sir?"

"No, but if he had then I would be leaving here in a casket."

Hearing that filled me with awe, fear and longing toward the only person who had made a lasting impression on me.

Patrick.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

209: Rash Choices -Crystal-

Guilt. No matter how far you run, it's always there. I killed someone today and it wasn't an accident. I went there wanting him gone, and left before they could put him in a body bag. I didn't feel bad that he was gone. It was like a large zit had been removed from the side of the planet, but I did feel bad that I had been the one to do it. I had erased someone's life with my own hands.

According to Saba, she had stopped Ben from killing because she didn't want him to become a monster, so what was I? I looked at my hands, wet from the rain that hid my tears of guilt. Was this how life was supposed to be? Only a year ago I was sitting in my bedroom playing with Malibu Barbie, my biggest worry being whether or not Ken would be on time for their date. Now my hands were stained with the invisible mark of a cold-blooded killer.

I put my hands under the run-off from a nearby gutter. Maybe I was trying to remove the past few hours; the past few hours that I barely remembered but knew the outcome of.

"Nothing can remove what you're feeling." A voice spoke up from behind me, "Well . . . almost nothing."

I turned to see a girl with black hair smiling at me, "Who are you?"

"My name is Indigo, the Goddess of Guilt and you look like you need to relax." She reached out and touched my wrist.

The guilt and pain faded away instantly. I felt good, I'd done what was needed and it turned out okay. I'm not sure how or what I did, but it sure made me happy. I smiled at the girl and then she let go.

I fell to my knees as sickness overtook me. The guilt flooded back as if a dam had been removed. I wretched on the ground as the memories came crashing back. I shakily pulled myself to my feet.

"What if-" Indigo stared at me, "What if I could get rid of your guilt? You certainly have a lot and much of it involves an old nemesis of mine, as well as a good friend. I think it's safe to say that you have more burdens than a young girl as yourself should hold."

She touched my hair and put her hand on my shoulder, "I can remove it all. Erase all the guilt. If you want."

Tears burst forth, "I didn't mean to. He killed my Daddy and I was just so angry. I was very, very angry. I wouldn't have ever done it. Oh God, I killed him."

She wrapped her arms around me and held me close, "Lucky you found me then. Just say the word and it's gone."

I looked into her eyes, hypnotized by the depth of them.

"What do I have to do? Please help me.", and the world went black.

I woke up a while later wrapped in a blanket and staring at Nick's face.

"Crystal? Talk to me."

"Nick. Nick, I feel funny."

"What?"

Then I leaned in and kissed him. A deep, long, guilt-free kiss.

Sunday, July 3, 2011

201: Visible Lies -Crystal-

"Speak fast." I held the grenade ready to throw as he stood up.

"Let me collect myself." Patrick had an unsettling calm as he spoke. The anger from before was gone and replaced with confidence, as though he'd gotten control of the situation again. He didn't need any "collecting", he was stalling for time. He was going to lie.

"Vincent was a soul trapped inside that of a bear. Once the bear is destroyed his soul is no longer trapped there and can go find another, more suitable body."

The venom dripped off the lies as he spoke. He didn't even try to hide it. The anger that had been put aside so that I could possibly find a way to bring Vincent back filled me again.

"I can tell you a way to follow his soul from his remains to where he is now, but you need to put down that grenade first." I had to admit he was a good negotiator. If I didn't know that he was a filthy liar I might have done what he wanted.

"Fine." I tossed the grenade into the room he was standing.

Patrick's face went from calm confidence to fearful urgency in seconds. I had never felt a more gratifying moment in my short life. Patrick ran toward the door, but my heel between his eyes stopped him with a crunch of cracking bones. He fell to the ground and I ran. I'd gotten only a short distance away when the explosion shook the entire building. I ducked around a corner and covered my head as pieces of burning wall and shrapnel metal flew past. As the heat faded, the scent of burned flesh hit my nose.

I stood and made my way back down the hall to where I could see Patrick's burned, bleeding and unmoving body. I knelt and felt for his pulse.

There was none.

Something inside me cracked. I had killed someone. I had taken the life of another in a fit of anger and it scared me. This wasn't who I was. I didn't want this new part of me, I wanted it to go away. It had turned me into a murderer; a monster. I felt tears stream down my face as I stood and walked from the building.

I didn't want this.

Friday, June 24, 2011

200: Fatal Shadow -Unknown-

It took me three hours and twelve people to find the exact location of Patrick, and I won't lie; some of those people would have trouble walking for a while. I wasn't cutting corners. I wasn't taking chances. I knew better. You make a mistake or take a shortcut and you're dead. The only thing you can do is be one step ahead of the rest. You have to know the enemy so well that even their preference of cereal isn't a mystery to you.

I'd left them standing there staring after me. I didn't even hang up the phone. It was as though the sound of the death unlocked parts of me I'd never knew existed. An entire lifetime of espionage, and assassination flooded my mind. I knew the points on someone's body that would knock them out, cripple them, or worse. I could get to those spots before they could blink and disappear just as fast. Nothing was untouchable and as soon as I put my sights on a target, nothing could sway my gaze.

I wasn't a meek girl anymore.
I was the seven year old bringer of death.
I was a fatal shadow.
I was the eyes you always feel on you.
I was what made you hesitant to go into a dark room unarmed.
I was Crystal, and I was very, very mad.

Guards were nothing; just targets. They didn't last long enough to be surprised. There were three at the front doors. I always used the front door, because I wanted to spit in the face of my target's security. I wanted them to know when I arrived so that I could easily earn the quivering fear that I deserved to be shown. I left the gun where they laid and instead grabbed a single grenade as insurance. It's not that I didn't know how to use a gun. I could disassemble them in seconds and put them together just as fast. I had a killer's aim, but that was no surprise. I didn't pick them up because I wouldn't need them.

They wouldn't see me.

A group of seven heavily armed men flooded down the hall where I had been just earlier. They knelt to check the status of the door guards. Alive. I needed them to remember me. I needed them to fear me. I needed everyone in this place to know they weren't safe if they crossed me.

I came down like a spider from my hiding spot in a small nook on the ceiling. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. A single touch and every last one of them would be in a coma for a week. I left the pile of bodies near the door as I made my way deeper into the interior of the building.

I slipped into a room as I heard a voice coming closer. John. My friend working for the wrong side, so he wouldn't get special treatment. Open the door to the face, and a single jab to one of those special places I knew of. He fell like a brick. Not coma, but he'd be out long enough for me to complete what I'd come here to do. I disarmed him just in case. During the time I'd known him he'd done some very surprising things, and there was NO way I was going to underestimate him. Jay and Tim were all that was left to make a move, and the only person that had seen me was Tim. He probably saw my entrance in the video feeds.

After taking John down I turned to the nearest camera and waved.

Jay would be in the library, and Tim in the control room. Simple.

Jay's face felt the heel of my foot before the world went dark. He wouldn't be getting up any time soon. I left the library and made my way to the showers; Patrick would be there unaware of my coming.

The doors to the bathroom were closed and locked, but a hairpin and thirty seconds later that obstacle was gone.

Patrick wasn't human, that much I was aware of. I wouldn't be able to rely on the normal means to do him in. He was also very experienced, and had probably had many assassins try to take him out. He would be ready for me and that wasn't something I could stop. We were in his territory, so I was all ready at a disadvantage. I had to switch it around. I had to change the field of battle so that it fell in my favor, or at least evened the odds.

I closed my eyes and counted to forty, all the while I could hear the shower running around the corner. I could hear his whistling as though he had no remorse or guilt about what he'd done. It drove me mad. I hit forty, turned off the lights, and opened my eyes.

I had already adjusted to the dark so getting to Patrick in his surprised state was simple. My fist said hello to his nose with a crack loud enough to cause my ears to ring. I jumped back as he swung blindly in the dark.

"Who are you?! Where are you!?", he yelled angrily as he tried to hit me.

I silently moved behind him, ignoring the heat of the shower water as my knee crashed into the small of his back.

Patrick went down to one knee faster than I'd expected. I figured that he'd be some kind of monster like the ones we'd faced before. I didn't even fathom that he could possibly be simply human.

"Attacking someone in the dark is pathetic! Attack me to my face you pathetic fool!" His face was fuming, as angry as I could get it.

"You didn't attack me to my face. You went after my Father. You are the coward!"

Even in the dark I could see the blood drain from his face. He hadn't even thought that I would be capable of coming after him. He didn't even think I had it in me to make a one man assault on his badly guarded fortress. It was breathtaking to watch his anger swiftly change to a worried uncertainty. I watched his mind put the pieces together by reading the small changes on his face. A small look of guilt slid over his face and then vanished into anger again.

"You." He stood to his feet, and as I watched him he seemed to gain more confidence, "You killed the only human in this horrible world that I actually cared about. You took Saba away from me, so I went straight after the only people that I could to make you feel my pain. Do you? Do you feel the horrific feeling of loss like I do? After my employee finished his work, I called him and do you know what he told me?"

I could feel my anger growing as he started to explain his actions, as though he was justified in killing such a kind and innocent person.

"He told me that he missed." I felt my heart skip a beat, "He said that he had to sit there and watch your father choke on his own blood for half an hour before death."

My anger erupted with a ferocity I had never felt before. My foot was on his chin, followed by the heavy thumps of my fists bruising his chest, knocking him out of the showers and closer to the door. He tried to retaliate, but the lack of sight made his swings ineffectual and pointless. He leaped through the door, crushing it to the ground. He was moving toward the light so he'd have a better advantage, but I was right behind him.

Before he even got back to his feet I was there, leveraging his weight to catapult him back into the showers where he collided into the wall with a crunch of linoleum. I pulled out the grenade as I moved to the door. My finger yanked the pin as I smiled at his very surprised face.

"WAIT!" Patrick's voice made me hesitate, "Wait. If you let me live, than I can help you."

"Now who's pathetic? Can't you just at least die as something other than a cockroach? Don't you dare try to weasel your way out of this.", I prepared to toss it.

"No. I can tell you how to bring Vincent back."

Patrick had earned some more time.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

199: Life For A Life -Crystal-

I can't say I wasn't nervous. What would I say? How would I explain? The phone rang into my ear as I waited.

It felt like forever before someone picked up.

"Hello?" It was a gruff male voice, one I didn't recognize.

"Um, is William Ferguson there?"

"He's a little," the voice pulled away from the phone for a moment and then returned, "preoccupied at the moment."

"It's important that I talk to him immediately. Please put him on the phone."

"You wouldn't happen to be Crystal, would you?"

My heart sank. Something was wrong. How could this person possibly know me?

"Just put my Daddy on the phone. Please."

The voice laughed, "Sure thing." Again the voice moved away from the phone, "Hey! It's your daughter, she wants to talk to you. You can take it? All right." The voice returned, "He says he can take it. Just let me remove the duct tape."

A yelp of pain echoed through the phone followed by a stern "quiet" from the man on the phone. Some more shuffling and then a voice came over the phone, one I recognized.

"Hello?" I couldn't help but tear up when I heard his voice, "I don't know what kind of sick joke you're playing bu-"

"Daddy, do you remember what Mommy told us before she died? She was laying there pale and weak; so weak that she couldn't hold my hand. I was crying and you were trying to hide your sadness for me even though I could always see it. Do you remember?"

"How did you-" He sounded surprised.

"Daddy, she told you that the best moments of her life were the years she spent with you. She said," painful memories stung me to the bone, "She said that even though she'd only had a few years to spend with us, she couldn't imagine another life she would have rather lived."

"Oh my God." I could hear the surprise in his voice, "Crystal. How?"

"That's not all, then she looked at me and told me to love with everything I had. Then she closed her eyes, Daddy, she closed her eyes for the last time."

"You- you sound older. How did this happen? When can I see yo-", I heard a loud thunk as he was cut off. "THAT'S ENOUGH!" The other voice returned.

"So, I have a message to you from Patrick." The voice was very calm and dangerous, "By now, you've probably found that all your money is gone, right? That's why you had to call here."

They had my Daddy; Patrick had my Father. I felt the blood rush from my face as I whispered into the phone, "Yes."

"He thought you would, so I was told to wait here until you called and then tell you this." He laughed lightly, "Patrick says, 'A life for a life.' "

I heard him put the phone down and in the distance I heard my Daddy's voice, "Crystal, I love yo-"

The loud bang of a gun echoed through the phone.

198: Daddy? -Ben-

"I'm sorry sir, you've been declined." The clerk looked upset and confused.

I forced down the rising frustration, "Okay, I had plenty of money on there to pay for the rooms just earlier today. You must be doing something wrong."

"Sir, I've tried it three times. Maybe you should give the bank a call?" She looked at me timidly.

"I think I will." I turned to see Nick and Crystal walking through the hotel doors.

"What's going on?", Nick jogged up, "Is there a problem?"

"They're telling me I have no money. I just checked the balance earlier today."

"No problem, let me see if I can help." Nick handed his card to the clerk and in a few moments it was returned with the same explanation.

"We have no money. Who could be doing this?", Nick looked exasperated.

"We can't even pay for a way back."

"I might be able to help.", Crystal spoke up, her voice shaky and unsure. "I could call my Daddy."

I'm sure that Nick and I had the same surprised look on our face. Crystal had chosen not to talk to her father, because there was no way she could explain this.

"You don't have to. We'll find another way to pay.", I stated.

"No. After losing Vincent," she looked at the floor, "I don't want to lose anyone else. I'm going to have to find a way to tell him."

She walked to the hotel phone and dialed the number.

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

187: Fear Of Ham -Christina-

"Well, I did not expect you to drop in."

"Bob?"

My dragon and I had crashed through several walls, and now stood in a large room with a pool of red liquid in the middle. The dragon had not survived the crash, but I got through with only a few bruises. Standing in the middle of the pool was Bob, waist deep in the fluid.

"Bob, what are you doing here?" I staggered to my feet, feeling exhaustion take hold.

"Did everyone seriously think that the Abhorians could unite together and start a war? They're barbarians; they don't have the intelligence to do anything like that."

I fell to my knees. The crash had hurt me more than I'd realized, "We have to get out of here, Bob. I need medical attention."

"No, that wouldn't be possible."

"What? I could die, Bob. Please, help me get out of here."

"The answer is no. Just die so I don't have to deal with your whining." Bob cupped his hands in the fluid and poured it over his head.

"Why? Why won't you help me? We're allies."

"Allies?", Bob scoffed, "You must have hit harder than it looked. I'm not your ally, I'm your enemy."

"That's impossible! Why?" I tried to stand again, only to fail.

"At the academy, I was weak. No one feared me, so my power never left the confines of my mind and when it did, the opponent always got the upper hand somehow. I tried everything and failed. I was given the lowest scores and put into the lower tier because I never showed my true potential."

"You left because you were weak?" I finally was able to get to my feet, but had to lean against the wall.

"I left because it wasn't fair. I pleaded with the teachers to give me a chance to use my powers to the fullest, but they never gave in. They told me that if my power did not activate than the fault was mine. I did not accept that, and I vowed to take my revenge."

"You're a filthy traitor, and a weakling." I was breathing heavily but slowly the pain in my head began to subside.

Bob laughed, "The system is flawed. The people with out abilities are executed when they reach nineteen, and the weakest of us are sent to the mines. There is no equality in the system, it's the strong survive and the weak are forgotten. I would gladly become a traitor to that."

"So, why the villages? Why the human settlements?" I had to keep him distracted till my head was clear enough for me to find a way out, or I was recovered enough to kill the bastard.

"I don't discriminate. Instead of allowing only the strong to survive, I'm just going to kill everything. First the Gods, then the human settlements, and finally the Sprites; none of them will survive."

"You're sick." My knees buckled and I almost fell to the floor again, "How are you controlling the Abhorians?"

"I'm the God of Fear, Christina. When I'm in the presence of these Abhorians, things change. My ability becomes supercharged. These creatures allow me to do things I'd never thought possible. I can show you, tell me . . . what do you fear most?"

Immediately, Mardockt surfaced in my thoughts. I felt goosebumps on my arms just thinking about what he'd become. Just Mardockt's eyes after the resurrection filled me with a dread I'd never knew could exist.

"That's very unusual. Why would you fear him? Why Mardockt? Isn't he dead?" His eyes widened, "Mardockt isn't dead, is he? Something else happened that forced him to be exiled. I wonder if he left for the same reason I did?"

"Bob, don't." My voice had no strength.

"Well, no matter, I'll take care of that later. Right now, I'm going to help you with your fear. Once I do that then maybe I can convince you to join me. With your strength, maybe I wouldn't have to worry about losing this war."

"I'll never join you, Bob. I'd sooner kill myself than become a murderer."

"You're already becoming a murderer! Once you earn some say on council matters, then you'll do the same things they do. They train us for this our entire lives, Christina. They make us in to them and then we make the next generation in to us." Bob's face had gone red with anger.

"This isn't the right way, Bob. This is wrong, can't you feel that?" My headache was nearly gone but my knees still shook beneath my weight.

Bob waved his hand toward me, "Maybe you'll think differently when you're not controlled by your fear."

A new headache erupted and I fell to the ground. The stone against my cheek only served to make the headache worse.

"The pain won't last long, Christina. You'll be better than fine. You'll be powerful, unstoppable. Nothing will - Oof!"

I looked through my pain-filled eyes to see Patrick standing where Bob had been. Bob was pulling himself to his feet and sneering at Patrick, "You shouldn't interrupt while I'm inside your friend's head, anything could go wrong if I make a mistake. You wouldn't want her to be a vegetable, would you?"

The pain in my head grew to a new intensity, and I could swear my head was splitting open. I opened my mouth to breathe but only screams escaped.

"All this time you've wanted to fight me Bob, and now that you have the chance you're hiding behind a hostage." Patrick tried to remain calm. If he didn't than he would use too much force. Patrick's power was related to his emotions, though I wasn't sure exactly how. If he got too angry this would get very messy and he'd have to explain to the council why he didn't bring the target back alive.

Bob took the bait and ran toward Patrick. He didn't release his hold, and I could feel him shifting things around in my head. The increasing pain of the headache made sweat drip from my forehead to the floor. It paralyzed me completely while I watched.

It was over in seconds, as I knew it would be. The pain subsided quickly as Bob fell to the ground unconscious. For some reason I already knew what had happened; Bob never finished removing my fear and because of this, I would never see ham the same way again.

Exhaustion, pain, and trauma from the ordeal took its toll and I fell to sleep.

I woke up back in the museum looking into the eyes of an Abhorian as he raised his fist to smash my face in.

Monday, May 30, 2011

186: Message Through Time -Will-

A few hours after I had been holding my wife I was standing in the hallway again. It was just like my dream, but it felt unreal. It felt like I'd done it before.

I knew that as I walked down the hallway, the smell of blood would suffocate my senses. I knew that the smell would twist in my thoughts as I worked to come to an explanation for the smell and the marks of red that streaked down the hallway. I knew that those streaks would incite visions of my wife running from an unknown assailant, bleeding because of the stab wound that I knew I would find. As I passed the children's room I would note their small feet sticking out from under the bed; surrounded by a puddle of their blood. I knew that I would leap to the conclusion that it wasn't theirs. That some how they'd fought off the attacker and even though I knew it wasn't true, I would push that deep inside to get myself to make it to our bedroom.

I knew the blood on the doorknob would make it hard to open. I didn't need to turn when I heard noises behind me to know what it was. I did anyway, to watch several police officers heading toward me in a run. I didn't hear their shouts, but I knew they didn't want me to open the door. It was all ready too late, the door gave to my weight and I was in the room.

My wife's blood puddled in the corner around her lifeless body. As I went to run to her, I noticed the words on the wall. "It's not a dream."

When I saw that on the wall before, I'd thought it was Patrick mocking me. When I learned that it was written by her, I thought it was a final attempt to comfort me; to keep me sane. Now as I read those words on the wall, I found a different meaning.

I stood there staring at the words as the police moved around me to my wife. If the nightmare I'd had wasn't a dream, then what was this? Why did I have these memories and how is it that these words have a completely different meaning?

She wasn't comforting me. She was saving me in this moment, releasing me from whatever prison I was stuck in right now. Tears ran down my cheeks as I swore to myself that I would find a way to get rid of Patrick. It was his fault that I lived this moment twice. His fault that I learned the true meaning behind the message on the wall.

But how had she known?

The world around me faded away, replaced by reality; replaced by the museum and the creatures inside.

I could still feel the tears.

And the hate.

Sunday, May 29, 2011

185: Trapped Inside Himself -Andrew-

"You were destroyed. How are you here? Patrick got rid of you." I stepped back to find myself against the wall.

"You cannot destroy us, Daddy. Why would you want to? How could you?"

"You made me weak!", I felt the panic rise as my heart stepped toward me again, "I had to remove you to survive!"

I felt his hands grasp my collar and lift me into the air. For a frail and starving person, he displayed an unusual amount of strength. His grip tightened as he looked at me.

"You . . . you tried to remove your own daughter!" He spun and tossed me into a wall. Pain coursed through my body as I pulled myself to my feet.

"You have no idea what kind of pain I was in! You weren't there! You'd left me to fight it on my own!"

Till that day I'd never realized just how painful my fist could feel, "I was always there! Protecting the parts of you that were most important."

"You're a liar!" I swung my fist, but it never connected. It fell to my side; I couldn't fight him. I didn't want to. This was never supposed to happen. I was never supposed to face this part of me ever again. It was supposed to be dead.

"You were there for years and you didn't break. What do you think caused that? Every time the whip hit your skin, your daughter was there holding your hand! Every time they taunted you to break, I sat at your ear whispering the truths you needed to know. I was telling you to stay strong! Every time you screamed, Stephanie wiped away the tears and kissed you till you calmed." His foot smashed into my stomach. I fell to my knees.

"Why did I break then? Why did it work?!"

"It worked because Patrick muffled us. He destroyed everything that is good by stopping us from keeping you strong."

"Why would he do that? What is the point?"

My heart knelt down and put its hand on my shoulder, "I don't know, but we can find out. Accept us back. Let us out. Free us, Andrew."

Patrick had betrayed me. He'd been in control of my answer before I even made it. I was being manipulated, and had done unspeakable acts because of his influence. I'd killed people. I felt the anger boil as I remembered all the horrible deeds I'd committed in his name.

"Okay. Let's figure it out together, and then . . . we kill Patrick."

I woke up screaming for Patrick's blood.

Sunday, May 8, 2011

181: Wake Up -Alice-

The world around me came into focus and I found myself staring off the edge of a massive cliff. An old man lay dead to my right, a look of complete agony permanently planted on his face. The sound of begging behind me made me turn to see Ben fighting against invisible bonds as he attempted to reach the three people locked in battle nearby.

Three children just a bit younger than me fought; a blonde, what looked to be a younger Patrick, and a black-haired one with an uncanny resemblance to Ben. It was Patrick and the blonde versus the one with black hair, but even at two against one the black haired boy didn't look like he was losing.


I glanced at Ben and I could see the suffering in his eyes as he fought to get to them. I didn't care about his suffering, I just wanted to know where I was and how I got here. Things were happening too fast and it was overwhelming me.

"You'll be okay, Alice." A kind-looking middle aged man walked over to me from the left near Ben. I hadn't noticed him before, but the amount of new people I'd met in the last hour was getting ridiculous.

"Who are you?", I spoke as though his arrival was nothing new. It might have been rude but being thrown all over the place was getting tiresome.


"Gilfred Odephius Doorstop." He smiled and slowly I began to feel a bit better, "You can think of me as . . . a needed push, or a hint."


"I don't need a push. I need a time machine." I turned to look at Ben again, but this time his face of suffering actually hit home and I felt tears in my eyes, "Where are we?"

"We're in Ben's worst memory. A time when he was imprisoned and unable to help the people he cared about most."


"Why are we here?"


"Because the ignorant retard that put everyone into their worst feared memory didn't realize what he was doing." He turned to me and smiled, "Lucky for us, huh?"


"What am I supposed to do here?"


"There's nothing you can do. Your part comes later, after this is done. Now you should watch and remember this time always.", he walked over to the black haired boy that was dominating the battle so far. "Alice, I have to go. I can't be in two places at the same time."

With that he pulled a spear from behind him and stabbed it through black-hair's chest. The world twisted and spun as both me and Ben were yanked into the sky. The clouds surrounded us making it impossible to see each other.


"Ben?!"

I felt my feet touch ground and I found myself standing at the top of a staircase. Ben was no where to be seen. The smell that came from the bottom of the stairs made my skin crawl. My skin? I looked down at myself to find that I'd aged quite a bit. I looked to be eighteen, but that wasn't the most disturbing thing.

I was alive.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

179: Not Supposed To Matter -Alice-

I walked to the door and as I reached for the knob, a noise behind me made me freeze. Someone was breathing. I turned around and stared at a tall man wearing an expensive suit walking toward me. Something about him made me tremble. There was something in his eyes; something very ancient and powerful.

"Alice. So nice to finally meet you, Alice. I have been watching you for a very long time." His voice made me feel unnaturally calm, which instead of making me comfortable, put me on edge.

"What are you, a pervert?" I retorted.

The man laughed and then shook his head, "You've lived a very difficult life Alice, and you deserved better. Beaten everyday, forced to clean after your parents habit while avoiding your father's drunken rage, and everyday you wished you could die. You wanted it all to end and hoped that you'd feel no more pain."

He knew too much of my thoughts, of my life. I stepped back, "Are you God?"

He stared at me for a long time and then smiled, "No. I'm as far from a God as you can get, and I'm not even sure if the big guy even exists." He stepped forward and held out his hand, "My name is Patrick Bernauw, and I'm here to give you what you really want."

I'd always read stories of deals made with the devil and this sounded like one of those times. I shook my head and stuck my tongue out at him, "No way. You'll ask me to do something later, something I won't want to do."

"There is no catch. In fact, I'm not doing this for you at all. I only choose you because your life needed a change and I felt generous." The way he said generous made the incorporeal hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

"You killed me to make my life better? Did you flunk out of grade school?"

He laughed again, "You are so smart, Alice. Yes, as a matter of fact, I did flunk out of school. Except it wasn't grade school. Have you ever heard of a place called the Other Lands?"

I shook my head still not trusting his words. This could all just be a plan to get me to go along.

"Well, you are a ghost, also known as a Walking Soul in the Other Lands. Walking Souls are the only beings capable of instantaneous travel between this realm and the Other Lands without training. With training a Walking Soul can become a very dangerous being, but that is not important to you. What's important is that you understand that the afterlife humans refer to is the Other Lands."

"Why is that important?"

He stared at me, "I'm trying to give you a better life, Alice. You need to trust me."

"I don't. You're a smelly old man that likes watching a fourteen year old. Even if my Mother couldn't teach me to be careful of guys like you, I'm not stupid." I stepped back again.

He nodded and stood up, "Well, I'll be seeing you again sometime. When we meet again you might think I'm doing the wrong thing, but I swear I'm not the bad guy. The bad guy is a lot worse than me."

"I don't even know who you are! I'm dead, remember?! I'm not supposed to matter anymore!"

He laughed as he walked toward the opposite wall, "Alice, your life is just beginning. Give my regards to Ben."

"Ben? Whose that? Why me? Hey! Stop walking away!"

He turned and smiled, "Ben is the guy that killed you, Alice."

And then he vanished and I was again alone.

But even more confused.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Flashback Entry 157: Janitors -Christina-

"You'd be surprised at how frail you actually are. Your kind sits above everything, looking down at all the humans below as if you're better."

Mardockt knelt and grabbed some grass. He twirled it in his fingers and its green turned to brown as the plant died instantly.

"You aren't though. You can die just like any other mortal, it just takes a little more force. You call yourselves Gods! You cannot even FATHOM what a God really is!"

Patrick stood up, "Christina, you tell me what you see. I'll be the sword and you be the mind."

We'd done this before in the past to fend off wild animals. This wasn't the same. This was us fighting for our lives against something we didn't understand. Maybe the adults felt it. Maybe they were headed here to help us right now. The Highest Tier would know what to do.

"Christina! Concentrate!", Patrick ran forward.

Mardockt stood and continued walking as Patrick closed in. The dark tentacle flew from Mardockt again.

"Left!"

Patrick veered left, straight in to Mardockt's waiting arm. Patrick's feet left the ground and he flipped in the air behind Mardockt. I could hear the pain as Patrick pulled himself to his feet again.

"This is fun. I haven't done this in years! A few thousand years of imprisonment makes this more enjoyable than it normally would be. Come on, don't give up. I want this to last!", Mardockt's eyes had a lust that made me shiver.

At my cues Patrick dived left and right to avoid the tendrils of death as they swung out to do their horrible job. Mardockt didn't move, nor did he stop staring at me. Even though his eyes watched me, it was all I could do to keep Patrick from being hit.

"You're interesting. You can see things you shouldn't. Skills like that are reserved for certain humans, not your kind."

Mardockt smiled evilly and then a tendril shot out toward me. I rolled to the side to avoid it but it kept coming. I jumped to my feet and ran.

"Christina! Where are they?!?!", Patrick was still, looking left and right as though he'd be able to see what I could.

"Left!" I jumped to the side to avoid the tendril that was after me.

I heard a thump and Patrick’s groan of pain. Glancing back I saw Mardockt standing over him staring at his face. The tendrils had faded to nothing.

"See, you were doing so well and just one mistake is the end. I'd tell you to learn from your mistakes, but I have the feeling that you don't have time. You should have left your young friend up here and ran."

"You talk too much." Patrick glared at Mardockt with a resolve I hadn't seen in a long time. He swung his feet up, spinning his body to get momentum. A loud crack was heard as Patrick's foot made Mardockt's neck collapse.

Mardockt stepped back, his neck inflating as a laugh escaped, "Such disrespect. I'll show yo-"

A spear suddenly appeared through Mardockt's chest. A light emanated from it, surrounding him. From his feet the sacred Circle of Ghat formed. Patrick jumped back away from the circle. Hundreds of smaller circles burned in to Mardockt's skin, causing him to scream with pain.

A massive white tentacle erupted from the clouds above and stabbed in to Mardockt. Judging by Patrick's reactions, he couldn't see it like I could. He couldn't see the radiating white aura that stretched across the sky.

"AGAIN?!? You think I can be contained the same way twice?!? I'll be back, sooner this time and when I am, I'll wipe your miserable race off the Earth. Arrrgh! No matter how long you live, no matter how much you forget, I will always be in the back of your heads; and when all the Highest Tier have died I will come back. Who will stop me then?!?"

With those last words Mardockt vanished. As the skies cleared several adults floated to the ground. I recognized half of them as people on the Highest Tier.

"We can not kill the children, but they must learn a lesson. They must stay away from areas that are restricted."

"We didn-" Patrick pleaded.

"Shush child!"

Patrick fell silent.

"You will forevermore be unsigned. Never will you have a chance to sit with the Highest Tier, and all your jobs shall be janitorial."

All of my goals dissolved in front of me as my future was stripped away.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Flashback Entry 156: It's From Before I Was Born -Christina-

Mardockt's eyes never left mine as he walked over to the fallen body of the old man. As I watched, a bright red glow slipped from the old man and in to Mardockt. He took a deep breath and kicked the man.

"Fools; all of you."

He turned to me and smiled, his once friendly face wearing a new shade of emotion. Hatred.

"Do you know what they did? What they did to me all those years ago?"

"Mardockt, what have you done? They'll take away our futures for what you did."

In a second he was next to me, his hand leaving a bruise on my cheek. He grabbed my shirt and lifted me up till my feet no longer touched the ground.

"I-", His voice of calm evil etched in to me, "I asked you a question."

New feelings enveloped me as I stared at my old friend’s face; desperation, hopelessness, and fear. I'd never felt anything like them before now. It was as if they were emanating from Mardockt. It took all of my little resolve just to speak again.

"What did they do, Mardockt?"

"They put me in the dark alone. That ever-lasting nothing that you go to when you die. There I sat crying to no one, because I would never be heard. Do you know the feeling? I forgot that I even had a body. I forgot my parents. I forgot my friends. I forgot my life."

"Who are you?"

"I don't remember my name. They took that away from me too! You took it all!", He threw me to the ground.

"I never did that!"

He turned and looked over the cliff, "Your friend is coming back. He's resilient." The following laugh was murderous.

"His name is Patrick. He won't know that you aren't our friend."

Patrick leaped up and looked around, "Christina! Mardockt!"

He ran over and as he did, I saw the pieces slowly fall in to place in his mind. The dead man, the bruise on my face, and Mardockt's smile, all collided in to confusion.

"What's going on?", he stopped moving toward us.

"Oh-ho-ho-ho . . .", Mardockt pointed at Patrick and I watched as a strand of something only I could see flowed toward Patrick.

I slammed my body in to Mardockt's side, interrupting his attack. He turned and grabbed my hair. Patrick started to run forward, but I felt my body collide with his as I was thrown.

"Violence. I love violence. I invented it. I've had blood on my hands since I was born. I am a God among Gods, and unfathomable among men. I can't be stopped, only contained. I am the original darkness, the first monster beneath your bed and I will destroy all of your kind for what you did to me!"

Patrick and I untangled ourselves from each other and stared as he slowly walked over. Our friend was gone and replaced by something else.

Even Patrick looked scared.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Flashback Entry 155: Mardockt -Christina-

"Christina! Stop being a baby!", Mardockt was all ready halfway up the cliff face.

"I'm not a baby!", I was only a quarter of the way up and advancing slowly.

Patrick quickly scrambled past, catching up and passing Mardockt easily. Patrick had always been the most physically fit of all the unsigned Gods. He was known for his resistance to physical harm. I once saw him swim in a pool of lava with out clothes on, and that's something that some signed Gods couldn't even do.

I was never so lucky with my skill. I always tried to match Patrick's strength, but he was always just above me. How ever, my special trait put us on equal ground and made our battles last for hours.

I was born with sight. I had amazing vision normally, three times more powerful than a normal human’s, but I also could see things unseen. The entire ability was new and unknown even to the Highest Tier.

Mardockt was one of the special ones born with a trait that wouldn't manifest until a specific trigger activated it. Unlucky for Mardockt, the trigger was his death. It was unknown what would happen, but it has been speculated that he was the embodiment of the apocalypse. It was said that his death would clear the planet of mortals and allow the Higher Tier to create a new mortal race.

Climbing this cliff had been Mardockt's idea. At the top was supposed to be the origin of all God-types, and it was forbidden to go all the way to the top. Being children; we completely ignored that rule.

I wish we hadn't.


I was ten feet from the top when I saw Patrick fly over the edge with a flash of light close behind. The light hit him in mid-air and he dropped to the ground far below.

"Patrick!" I'd never seen him lose consciousness, but as I watched him fall, I saw his eyes close. The sight of the toughest of the three of us falling unconscious scared me more then anything I'd ever seen. I scrambled up the last few feet and was met with a sight I'd never thought possible.

Mardockt’s body lay only a few feet away in a puddle of his blood. I'd never seen any of our kind bleed like that in the ten years I'd been alive. I could see the life force slip from him and dissipate in to the air.

"Mardockt!", I ran over to him as the last of his life force faded.

I leaped out of the way as a bolt of light hit the ground where Mardockt lay, knocking me and him to the side. I turned to see an old man standing a few feet away, his hands developing another blast of light. Just as he prepared to fire, a pulse erupted from Mardockt's body.

I watched as Mardockt pulled himself to his feet, and knew that he was not the same. He was one of my closest friends and used to be very kind. Now he was something darker, something scary. He pointed at the old man, who fell dead immediately.

Mardockt laughed lightly and then smiled at me.

What had just happened?

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Flashback Entry 149: Awakened -Christina-

My blade cut through his neck cleanly. Its magical red, hot blade searing the cut closed to keep it from bleeding. I hate blood. Five more warriors leaped at me, but they were too slow and my blade made each of them legless eunuchs before they knew I'd moved. I glanced back at the door and then at the crowd of warriors flowing in to the room.

The amount of people didn't scare me, I'd faced many more in other raids. People had always attempted to get to the door, and just because this time it was Egyptians didn't mean I couldn't take every man in that room with my eyes closed.

So I closed them and jumped. I could smell the steel as a blade nearly took off my nose, and decided that it'd gotten too close.

The wielder never swung again.

I felt their confidence turn to fear as one after another fell with out screaming out. I heard the young ones run when they realized that fighting like a beast while blind wasn't something they could deal with. I didn't follow, my job isn't to kill; it's to protect.

"It's just a girl. Stab her all rea-" Don't scream next to a blind warrior.

When they stopped fighting I stood and sheathed my sword. The room's feeling had changed from a group of desperate men, to something that I had never felt before. Someone new was here.

"Christina." I knew who that was.

"Patrick." Now my confidence wavered. I had to fight to keep my face from showing the growing uneasiness.

"So, you were set as the guardian of the door? The warrior who fights better with her eyes closed?", I heard him laugh. He'd gotten closer with out me realizing it.

"It's much more noble than what you're in charge of. Waste duty, is it?", I felt his annoyance and smiled.

My blade was out to deflect his fist in seconds. I heard the men at the sides gasp as though I'd done something unheard of. Patrick's next attack came from below and connected cleanly with my ribs. I was lifted off the floor and felt the wind as he spun to put a leg in to my side. I flew toward the wall and at the last second was able to right myself by dragging my blade along the ground.

"I need the door Christina. Just stop fighting."

"You stopped your job and now look where you are. You'll have to kill me before I stop." I stood up and picked up my weapon. Patrick attacked again but I was ready. I knocked his fist away with my blade and laughed I heard him cry out as it cut in to his flesh. He was too powerful to lose a limb, but it stalled him enough.

I leaped into the air and introduced his face to my foot. He grunted as he was knocked back on the defensive. I swung at him knowing they'd be blocked by his wrists, but I wanted him to stay on the defensive. When his concentration was only on my blade, I swung my foot forward and connected where no man wants to be hit.

A collective gasp from the male warriors nearly made me laugh, but I kept it in as I looked down at him. I couldn't see him. I was mainly doing it for effect. Nothing more belittling than being looked down upon for real.

"Christina, I urge you to stop. I don't want to kill you. I'm not a bad guy."

"If you are trying to put this door in human hands . . . then you are a bad guy, and I have to stop you."

His feet swung up and I dodged backwards. I felt the blade enter me from behind. A lone soldier had gotten up the nerve to step forward and was in the right place at the right time. The wound was nothing, but it made me too weak to stop Patrick from round-housing me in the face.

"Bring it in! Bring in the urn!" I heard the dragging of stone against stone and opened my eyes to see Patrick kneel next to me.

"I'm not going to kill you Christina, but I need your help. He's coming back and we have to stop him. All the others don't believe it, which is why I'm stuck doing the job I'm doing. I'm going to keep you in that urn until you're needed, and then you will be released. I'm sorry, but it has to be done this way."

I saw the urgency in his face, "Are you sure he's coming back? I can't feel anything at all."

My strength was getting lower as I lost blood, so I didn't bother fighting back as he lifted me up and slipped me in to the jar.

"I'm sure, Christina. If you can't feel him when you come out then you can kill me."

"I look forward to it." My vision faded.

The darkness of the urn and the screams of people outside startled me as I woke up, but what startled me more was the feeling I got.

He was coming, and very soon.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Christmas Special: Future -Ben-

(Well, I haven't posted anything in a while but I was busy with a few other things. Until a couple of days ago when I realized what day was fast approaching. So, in honor of Christmas I am going to give everyone a little sneak peek into the future of all the characters in the blog. So I present what could happen . . . if . . .)

"I miss John."

Crystal looked out from my porch at the snow covered lawn. Nick stood behind her, his arms protecting her from the cold. Nick smiled gently and kissed the back of her head.

"I do too. He was a great man. He gave a lot for us all. So did Ben."

Crystal smiled and turned, "You did too. I'm just glad you weren't taken away from me like they were."

She leaned in and just as they were about to kiss, a light flashed over them. Turning, Crystal and Nick looked out at the approaching car.

"Patrick is here!"

Crystal slipped out of Nick’s arms and smiled widely as she bounded down the steps.

"Patrick! You made it!"

The car slowly came to a stop. Nick turned to the door and called in, "Johnathon! Benjamin! Patrick is here!"

Down the steps the children leaped, running out to the car and in to the arms of Patrick as he got out of the car. Behind them came Saba, who stopped in the door and smiled at Nick, "You interrupted our game of Soul Caliber. I was winning."

"I guess you'll have to win another time.", Patrick said as he carried the two boys over his shoulders in to the house. In all the time that had past Patrick hadn't aged, not at all. He still had this presence about him, except it had long since become more benevolent.

Patrick set the children down and looked at Nick, "Are you ready?"

Crystal walked up to Nick and grasped his hand, "Do you have to? You go every Christmas."

Nick smiled and leaned in to kiss her, "I have to. One day he'll come out of it. I just know it."

Crystal returned the kiss and then pulled away, "Patrick, have you heard from Carl or Vincent?"

"They said they would be here for dinner, so I'd expect them to be here very soon."

"And Will?"

"What about me?" Through the door he walked, a large smile on his face and two massive presents under his arms. He set the presents down and hugged both Saba and Crystal.

"Boy, do I have tales for you guys."

That was Will, always telling tales and catching every one’s attention. He and Patrick had decided to bury the hatchet, especially after he found out the truth.

Will turned to Patrick and shook his hand, "Have a good drive. Give him my regards."

And with that, Patrick and Nick slipped in to the car and drove off.

A few hours had passed when they finally pulled in to the driveway of The Bernauw Mental Institution. Nick and Patrick walked up to the doors, waving at an orderly as they passed. The two didn't talk much, this was very hard for both of them. No one enjoyed seeing John like this.

Possessed, only his will holding it inside. Protecting us all.

They could hear John's rants as they approached the door. The door they never opened, just listened through.
After seven years, the rants hadn't changed.

"They tell me things, then I eat them. O' Dorothy, Dorothy!"

"Merry Christmas, John.", Nick whispered.

I looked through the window at him and wished I'd taken his place. He'd have been better dead. Like me.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

137: Heroes and Villians And Those Inbetween -Saba-

"A long time ago you told me that sometimes I can't choose. You said that I might find myself on the wrong side for the right reasons! Is this what you meant?! The only way to save so many people is by doing this?! You're insane!", my teenage voice sounded distressed and angry.

"Right now it's out there Saba, building power to overthrow the balance that has been forever. We need to have the strength to face the mistakes of our parents, and if that means that we need to do things unmentionable; then we do it. We do it for people who won't have a chance. We do it for people who haven't lived their lives. We make this thing fear for its life and then we kill it with out mercy." Patrick almost sounded like he cared for people.

"I can't! I just can't. I see them looking up to me with their pleas, those scared eyes and I can't. My hands start shaking and the air grows cold. I know it's out there, but my hands won't listen to me. I know it's the right thi-"

"No!" Patrick’s voice became louder as everything around me came in to focus.

Patrick stood in front of my teenage self holding her shoulders. They stand in front of those double doors again, a knife laying on the floor at their feet.

"It's never the right thing. What we're doing is horrible, but we do it because it's the only way. The last resort."

"I CAN'T!"

A silence fell over the hallway and as he stared into the younger-me's face, I swore his face blinked away again, revealing the horribly twisted visage beneath.

"I can help you kill our parents." Patrick spoke calmly and silent. A tear rolled down his cheek and splashed on the floor. "If you want to do the right thing, I can help you."

"Please help me."

I felt a burning sensation in the pit of my stomach as the scene in front of me faded away, leaving me and my younger self looking at each other.

"You came. I knew you'd come." Younger me smiled.

“Yes, it's good to see you again." A voice behind me spoke.

The child version of myself, the one that had brutally murdered my parents stood behind me. Her clothing drenched in blood.

"Patrick knew I couldn't do it, so he brought out the side of me that could. I went to sleep . . . "

". . . while I did the dirty deeds." Darker-me continued.

"But why? How?" I cried.

"We aren't sure. The door remains locked and hidden in your Soulscape. It's something horribly bad. Something involving Ben, John, Crystal, and all of the others. They can survive, but they need you."

"But I've just met them and you're saying that we're all connected. How does that make sense?"

“We're not saying it.", the evil me smiled and stepped up to the nicer me. She reached out and grasped her hand, "You are."

I felt my body get torn apart as everything went dark.

"Wake up, you fool girl! Wake up!"

It was Merlin. I was back. I wish Ben was here.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

136: 'Birth' -Saba-

The world swirled away as flashes of past and present flooded together, becoming an amalgam of indecipherable images. Covering my eyes, I turned away from the lights and colorful flashes.

When I opened my eyes I was standing on a beach.

"Did he ask you out yet?" Another recognizable voice that I couldn't seem to place.

I turned to see a young red-head sitting next to a teenage me.

"No, he's not the guy I want anyway." Teen me tossed a rock out in the sea.

"What? Are you crazy? He's popular, gorgeous and has money falling out of his pockets.", the red-head gushed as she spoke, "Also, I happen to know that he has a crazy crush on you."

Teen-Saba looked at the sky, "I had a dream of a guy. He seemed important and was really cute. I'm going to go out and find him one day."

"You mean that Ben guy you keep going on about? Girl, he's a dream. He isn't real."

"You're a dream."

"You aren't real."

The voices started to come from everywhere, flooding my ears with a drone of constant words. The red-head pulled a knife from behind her and swung it around, stabbing it in to teenage me's belly. That younger version just smiled as the blood spread from the wound, turning her blouse a dark red.

"You are just wasted parts, things that need to be discarded. Unfit to live and made to die. Your own body wants you gone. Everything you are will be lost forever when they reassert their authority."

"SHUT UP!" Everything disappeared as I yelled.

I found myself standing on a dark street. Ahead of me, the street ran zigzagged as far as I could see. Houses lined the streets but the numbers were replaced by words. 'First grade', 'Middle school', 'First Kiss'; they went on and on. A sign in front of me had the words, 'This way to The Void' and had a smiley face drawn on it with purple crayon.

I began my journey down the road, glancing at the windows of the houses, catching glimpses of my pasts. Child me here, teenage me there; almost all happy.

I stopped when I came to a black house labeled 'Birth'. I wanted to know more about myself, and the darkness that I would be allowing back in. Now was not the time for that though. I had something to do that was more important. I couldn't just stop and look at parts of my past.

So I opened the door and stepped through.