By the nods of approval, Helena figured she had nailed all the major points.
"Why?" Colonel Maillaro asked once she had finished her summary.
"Why what, sir?" her response was automatic.
"Why are they forcing us to fight them on the ground? They may have some kind of weakness. And we could exploit that weakness and maybe have a chance of blasting them off our planet," the last word hissed from his breath as if invading Earth had been an affront to him personally.
"That's why you are here. I want a list of potential candidates from your previous location. We are looking for the best. My orders are to build missiles. Your orders are to help develop a defensive strategy. You will also examine our different fighting styles and try to determine the most effective form of combat for these aliens. Do you understand," he bore the weight of his steel eyes down onto her small frame. No need to glance around at the others. They were all withstanding the weight.
"Sir, yes, sir," and she saluted. His face broke with a smile.
"Very good. Captain, show her around," and they were dismissed. She followed the Captain back out into the underground concrete tunnels.
"You ever wonder about any of that why business? Why did they come here? Why did they attack? Why don't they use weapons or bombs or armor?" he asked. She slowly shook her head.
"Ask why about to many things and you just want to cry. This is the way things are. All I can do is keep fighting to try and change them back to the way they were," as they walked, they passed other people in uniform. She kept looking for someone out of uniform, for a matted stuffed lion to be taking space on the floor. And then she'd remember this was a military base. Those things would not be found there.
"That's one way to look at it. A warning though, next week you may have a bunch of people asking why. The Colonel's rounded up some scientists. They'll be arriving next week," he kept chatting as they walked. And then the alarm sounded.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
25. The Dreamer-Once asleep, one must Dream
There was that door again. Birds chirped merrily as the sun dropped gold onto the hillside. The grass bent under the wind's light touch. The grass all bent towards the top of the hill. Every emerald blade was bowing before the door. The sun was at its zenith and centered over it as well. And the birds circled above.
"Not this time," she said. The wind grew stronger, insisting she allow herself to be swept upwards. There was a promise of rest, peace, and flying above the world.
"No," she repeated with more will. The sky grew cloudy. The birds left. And the wind whipped her hair, tugging the locks towards the door. A scythe ripped through the scene. Twisted remnants of sunshine were devoured by darkness. Nothing was left.
"You been enjoying yourself?" Aislinn's voice tinkled from all around. A dim, red ribbon glow appeared three feet in front of Anna. Aislinn faded into existence. Today her highlights and uniform accents were neon green. Her body was at an angle, ankles crossed, arms folded, and her scythe was leaning as well.
"Enjoying myself?" Anna repeated. The sounds were familiar, the way they moved across her lips was not new, and she knew what they meant. However, "enjoyable" was not a word she would have used to describe recent events. Something in her expression must have given her away. Aislinn laughed.
"I thought as much. I would not advise Dreaming for a while," a tree faded in behind her. She was leaning against and had never moved. Suddenly, her eyes focused solely on Anna.
"Of course, you already figured out that much. Ah, but how to stop that thing from finding you again? Those were your thoughts, right?" a smile glittered over Aislinn's lips.
"And that Nick is a cheating bastard," Anna flashed her teeth in return. Both women held their expressions for ten seconds before dissolving into laughter.
"I'm here to protect you. But that doesn't mean you have to make my job harder. Do you understand?" Aislinn said quietly after the laughter had subsided. Anna nodded.
"Good. Let's start the training," and a different, almost feral, grin reflected off the scythe.
"Not this time," she said. The wind grew stronger, insisting she allow herself to be swept upwards. There was a promise of rest, peace, and flying above the world.
"No," she repeated with more will. The sky grew cloudy. The birds left. And the wind whipped her hair, tugging the locks towards the door. A scythe ripped through the scene. Twisted remnants of sunshine were devoured by darkness. Nothing was left.
"You been enjoying yourself?" Aislinn's voice tinkled from all around. A dim, red ribbon glow appeared three feet in front of Anna. Aislinn faded into existence. Today her highlights and uniform accents were neon green. Her body was at an angle, ankles crossed, arms folded, and her scythe was leaning as well.
"Enjoying myself?" Anna repeated. The sounds were familiar, the way they moved across her lips was not new, and she knew what they meant. However, "enjoyable" was not a word she would have used to describe recent events. Something in her expression must have given her away. Aislinn laughed.
"I thought as much. I would not advise Dreaming for a while," a tree faded in behind her. She was leaning against and had never moved. Suddenly, her eyes focused solely on Anna.
"Of course, you already figured out that much. Ah, but how to stop that thing from finding you again? Those were your thoughts, right?" a smile glittered over Aislinn's lips.
"And that Nick is a cheating bastard," Anna flashed her teeth in return. Both women held their expressions for ten seconds before dissolving into laughter.
"I'm here to protect you. But that doesn't mean you have to make my job harder. Do you understand?" Aislinn said quietly after the laughter had subsided. Anna nodded.
"Good. Let's start the training," and a different, almost feral, grin reflected off the scythe.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
10. Defending Earth-An Explanation
"It is very simple really. We are going to make missiles," the Colonel then marched into the command center. Helena tilted her ear towards him and frowned.
"Make missiles? Here?" her words bounced off the closed door. The lights flickered and she swallowed. It couldn't be what she had heard. Smiling, Captain Clark reached for the door handle.
"It'll make sense inside," and he opened the door. There were flat screens with crisp resolution. Lights from monitors and LED's lit up the room like a meteor shower. There were about twenty workstations, each containing a computer, chair, and headset. There were more than twenty people milling around and shouting. In the center was a man. His arms were crossed, his shirt stretch slightly over the athletic frame. He barked questions from all those running around the room. Running around him.
"C-16 is being attacked. The number of attackers is within normal range for that area,"
"And the time frame?"
"About a half hour earlier than the projected time,"
"Again. Dammit!"
The Colonel, Captain, and Sergeant made their way to the center of the room. There was a temporary pause as salutes were given.
"At ease. Sergeant Weaver, we are able to monitor every single stronghold left in the United States. Numbers are crunched and we figure out the best way to distribute military supplies. Now, tell me about our experiences using long range weaponry," the Colonel leaned back on a desk. Her first instinct was to laugh. No one else had cracked a smile.
"It didn't work. No matter what we launched at them, they could always tell it was coming. And they always destroyed the missile, bomb, rocket, or whatever is was before it even came close to the target. They have long range weaponry as well. For some reason the Peregrinies only use it to destroy what we launch at them. Oh yea, they also attack and demolish any location where we try to make more long range weaponry," she paused.
"I think that's it. For some reason they want to fight us on the ground," she shrugged.
"Make missiles? Here?" her words bounced off the closed door. The lights flickered and she swallowed. It couldn't be what she had heard. Smiling, Captain Clark reached for the door handle.
"It'll make sense inside," and he opened the door. There were flat screens with crisp resolution. Lights from monitors and LED's lit up the room like a meteor shower. There were about twenty workstations, each containing a computer, chair, and headset. There were more than twenty people milling around and shouting. In the center was a man. His arms were crossed, his shirt stretch slightly over the athletic frame. He barked questions from all those running around the room. Running around him.
"C-16 is being attacked. The number of attackers is within normal range for that area,"
"And the time frame?"
"About a half hour earlier than the projected time,"
"Again. Dammit!"
The Colonel, Captain, and Sergeant made their way to the center of the room. There was a temporary pause as salutes were given.
"At ease. Sergeant Weaver, we are able to monitor every single stronghold left in the United States. Numbers are crunched and we figure out the best way to distribute military supplies. Now, tell me about our experiences using long range weaponry," the Colonel leaned back on a desk. Her first instinct was to laugh. No one else had cracked a smile.
"It didn't work. No matter what we launched at them, they could always tell it was coming. And they always destroyed the missile, bomb, rocket, or whatever is was before it even came close to the target. They have long range weaponry as well. For some reason the Peregrinies only use it to destroy what we launch at them. Oh yea, they also attack and demolish any location where we try to make more long range weaponry," she paused.
"I think that's it. For some reason they want to fight us on the ground," she shrugged.
Monday, September 19, 2011
24. The Dreamer-Before you dream, you must sleep
"Well?" Michael pressed. He slowed down and other cars blasted by with their horns.
"Speed up," she groaned and covered her ears. The horn blares were hammers beating inside her skull. Their speed increased. Cars stopped passing them and the drivers stopped slamming the middle of the steering wheel.
"If there was nothing to it all before, I know there is now," he told her after her hands had left her ears. Red, green, yellow lights melded into one stream. Something wet splashed on her arm. Then on her hands. She sniffed.
"We're almost back to your place. I'll find your medicine and you can lay down, all right?" his left arm stayed on the wheel. His right arm fumbled around the glove compartment. There, buried under stacks of insurance cards (none of them were current), was a travel package of tissues.
"But..." the tissues were outstretched. Blue light from a restaurant caused a halo to appear around his head. She took the tissues.
"It's...I'm not crazy. You know I'm not. I started having these dreams..." and she told him the story. Of seeing his conversation with Julie. His throat tightened at Anna's knowing that particular memory. Then again when she was attacked. The Scythe Girl. Her father. The Club. And now Nick. When she stopped talking, he pulled up to her apartment.
They sat. There were many ideas and thoughts running through his head. It was cool she had that ability. But something out there wanted to kill her because of it. Which was bad.
"Huh," he finally said and unbuckled.
"That's it?" she asked. He shrugged and shut the car door.
"For now. You need some sleep," and he helped her inside. The stove hissed with scrambled eggs which she ate before taking her medication. The James Bond theme song, barely coming from her television, serenaded her to sleep.
"Speed up," she groaned and covered her ears. The horn blares were hammers beating inside her skull. Their speed increased. Cars stopped passing them and the drivers stopped slamming the middle of the steering wheel.
"If there was nothing to it all before, I know there is now," he told her after her hands had left her ears. Red, green, yellow lights melded into one stream. Something wet splashed on her arm. Then on her hands. She sniffed.
"We're almost back to your place. I'll find your medicine and you can lay down, all right?" his left arm stayed on the wheel. His right arm fumbled around the glove compartment. There, buried under stacks of insurance cards (none of them were current), was a travel package of tissues.
"But..." the tissues were outstretched. Blue light from a restaurant caused a halo to appear around his head. She took the tissues.
"It's...I'm not crazy. You know I'm not. I started having these dreams..." and she told him the story. Of seeing his conversation with Julie. His throat tightened at Anna's knowing that particular memory. Then again when she was attacked. The Scythe Girl. Her father. The Club. And now Nick. When she stopped talking, he pulled up to her apartment.
They sat. There were many ideas and thoughts running through his head. It was cool she had that ability. But something out there wanted to kill her because of it. Which was bad.
"Huh," he finally said and unbuckled.
"That's it?" she asked. He shrugged and shut the car door.
"For now. You need some sleep," and he helped her inside. The stove hissed with scrambled eggs which she ate before taking her medication. The James Bond theme song, barely coming from her television, serenaded her to sleep.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
9. Defending Earth-New SO
"Here we are. The team is still being assembled, but half of us are here. Once everyone arrives well have a briefing about what this is all about," his eyes flicked around to the guards as the jeep rolled to a stop.
"The rumors have it almost perfect. So much for need to know," and he winked before saluting.
"Colonel Maillaro, sir," the salute went towards an approaching man. His uniform was slightly rumpled. Jet black hair poked from under his beret. The legs had a purpose, each step meant something as he marched over towards them. Quickly she saluted as well.
"Captain Clark, at ease. You must be Sergeant Weaver. I have a cousin who had the benefit of being your pupil. When this operation began, you were on our interest list. And now you're here," he stuck out his hand.
"Sergeant Weaver," she offered hers in return.
"Colonel Maillaro. Good to meet you," his hands swallowed hers. The pressure was firm, but the giant palms had not crushed her tiny bones.
"How much do you know?"
"She has not been briefed yet," Captain Clark answered.
"Walk with me then. As you know, the enemy has neutralized our long-range weaponry," they turned towards a small building. It was a brick garage with an elevator. Once inside, they began to descend underground.
"Just so you know, this isn't a community like Boulder. The Denver Metro Area hasn't been family hospitable in almost thirty years. We don't have cushy skylights here. This is a strategic military location," Maillaro interrupted himself brusquely. The concrete walls and floors were bare. Doors didn't seem to be in evidence. And the lights flickered.
"Before I show you the command center, let me explain what we are doing here," and the Colonel had returned to his original train of thought.
***Next Tuesday, find out why we can't bomb the shit out of the aliens***
"The rumors have it almost perfect. So much for need to know," and he winked before saluting.
"Colonel Maillaro, sir," the salute went towards an approaching man. His uniform was slightly rumpled. Jet black hair poked from under his beret. The legs had a purpose, each step meant something as he marched over towards them. Quickly she saluted as well.
"Captain Clark, at ease. You must be Sergeant Weaver. I have a cousin who had the benefit of being your pupil. When this operation began, you were on our interest list. And now you're here," he stuck out his hand.
"Sergeant Weaver," she offered hers in return.
"Colonel Maillaro. Good to meet you," his hands swallowed hers. The pressure was firm, but the giant palms had not crushed her tiny bones.
"How much do you know?"
"She has not been briefed yet," Captain Clark answered.
"Walk with me then. As you know, the enemy has neutralized our long-range weaponry," they turned towards a small building. It was a brick garage with an elevator. Once inside, they began to descend underground.
"Just so you know, this isn't a community like Boulder. The Denver Metro Area hasn't been family hospitable in almost thirty years. We don't have cushy skylights here. This is a strategic military location," Maillaro interrupted himself brusquely. The concrete walls and floors were bare. Doors didn't seem to be in evidence. And the lights flickered.
"Before I show you the command center, let me explain what we are doing here," and the Colonel had returned to his original train of thought.
***Next Tuesday, find out why we can't bomb the shit out of the aliens***
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
23. The Dreamer-Someone Makes an Observation
"Oh hell no!" Julie exploded. The cheating bastard looked up from his kiss. His eyes grew wide.
"You'll cheat with this slut and not with me?" she screamed.
"If I were up to it, I wouldn't be screaming that loud," Anna chuckled. Now all the times when Julie's eyes had skipped over Anna to solely focus on Nick were worth it.
"Julie, calm down. This is between Anna and I..." but Nick was to late. The woman whose name we hadn't learned yet was walking away. She took the long way around Julie. There might be some kind of disease the screaming woman had and distance was necessary. But then she looked at Anna.
"You're that girl from the news. God, I had no idea," she said and dipped her head so their eyes could not match.
"And me! God this is so like you! When you have no one else, you'll sleep with me. I'm your masturbation tool. But now I'm not even good enough for that. Who gave you the money to cover your cell phone bill last month? Who took you grocery shopping? Who gave you money to buy flowers for your girlfriend in the hospital but you actually gave your mistress the flowers!" the candles on the table all shivered as her tirade reached a crescendo. It crashed, pulling heads and eyes to the floor.
"Bastard!" all three woman said at once before scattering. Michael half-carried Anna outside. Julie grabbed a glass from the family of four's table and tossed Mountain Dew onto Nick's suit. Then the storm moved outside. The other woman was already gone. None of them would ever see her again. Nick never said what her name was.
They dropped Julie off at a bar. Tonight she was going to drink mai tai's until her eyes washed her makeup away. Of maybe she would drink the mai tai's because she was crying. Her best friend met them at the bar and hoisted Julie out of the car.
With Julie gone, there was a void. Michael waited before filling it.
"How did you know? And the bomb? What's going on?" is was quiet. It was a demand.
"You'll cheat with this slut and not with me?" she screamed.
"If I were up to it, I wouldn't be screaming that loud," Anna chuckled. Now all the times when Julie's eyes had skipped over Anna to solely focus on Nick were worth it.
"Julie, calm down. This is between Anna and I..." but Nick was to late. The woman whose name we hadn't learned yet was walking away. She took the long way around Julie. There might be some kind of disease the screaming woman had and distance was necessary. But then she looked at Anna.
"You're that girl from the news. God, I had no idea," she said and dipped her head so their eyes could not match.
"And me! God this is so like you! When you have no one else, you'll sleep with me. I'm your masturbation tool. But now I'm not even good enough for that. Who gave you the money to cover your cell phone bill last month? Who took you grocery shopping? Who gave you money to buy flowers for your girlfriend in the hospital but you actually gave your mistress the flowers!" the candles on the table all shivered as her tirade reached a crescendo. It crashed, pulling heads and eyes to the floor.
"Bastard!" all three woman said at once before scattering. Michael half-carried Anna outside. Julie grabbed a glass from the family of four's table and tossed Mountain Dew onto Nick's suit. Then the storm moved outside. The other woman was already gone. None of them would ever see her again. Nick never said what her name was.
They dropped Julie off at a bar. Tonight she was going to drink mai tai's until her eyes washed her makeup away. Of maybe she would drink the mai tai's because she was crying. Her best friend met them at the bar and hoisted Julie out of the car.
With Julie gone, there was a void. Michael waited before filling it.
"How did you know? And the bomb? What's going on?" is was quiet. It was a demand.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
8. Defending Earth-Pass Into Memory
Laughter trumpeted through the air. Mugs were handed and grabbed, shots lined and poured, beer frothing into glasses, and then it was time. Silence ran amongst the soldiers who had gathered. This was the last time they would see her. Soldiers died. It happened.
Every morning they said hello for the last time. Each bite of breakfast might be their last. Did they want their last meal to be dry toast? The question was never asked. But when the attacks come and through the dust and blood someone realizes that toast was the last thing they ate.
And now here was a strange event. This was the last time they were saying goodbye, but she wasn't dead. Something else was stealing her away, kidnapping their friend, comrade, and mentor. And the champion drinker. Tonight, someone new would emerge with the title.
"Are we gonna just stand here letting the beer get cold?" she finally snapped. Laughter rippled as she opened the night with a chug.
"I still don't understand..." Captain Clark watched her even gait and the absence of sunglasses the next morning.
"What's there to understand?" she heaved her dark green duffel bag into his jeep.
"That was..." his sentence died at her glance.
"Last night was a party. That's it. We don't talk about what happened the night before," unless something life altering had happened. And those things weren't talked about or announced. Children were born without know who the father was. It happened. Everyone living here was a parent to some child, whether it was genetic or not.
"But how did you guys get the Volkswagen..." once again he tried to talk. She punched the radio and turned the volume all the way up. There were no lyrics, synthesizer or guitar. There were many instruments with multiple people playing the same type of instrument.
"Been a while since I heard this," she leaned back into the seat and closed. Next time she opened them she would meet her new team. The soldiers left behind had become only memories.
Monday, September 12, 2011
22. The Dreamer-Some Things Have to be Seen
"Please tell me there is a damn good explanation for interrupting my "Friends" marathon," Julie huffed into Michael's back seat. Anna leaned her head back and closed her eyes. The world pulsed and danced with each searing flash of light. The sharp sneer in Julie's voice drove the barbs even further.
"I don't know. This is Anna's thing. Are you all right? I should just take you home," Michael kept the car idling, waiting for Anna to demand to be taken home. His fingers twitched, ready with the urge to scoop her back into bed. Only the knowledge that Nick wasn't there and she would be alone kept his fingers in check.
"Just take us to the restaurant. Please," she begged.
I have to see this for myself. Someone has to take me, someone who can be there to catch me if I fall. And she'll be there to unleash our anger.
And...nothing. She knew it was real. Either that or she had died in the explosion and this was some kind of afterlife. Which, this version went against the religious conventions. Nope, the light turned green and stabbed. Michael turned, accelerated, and braked without a jar or bump. To Anna, she felt she was being shoved and rocked around a soup can.
"Almost there," he craned to check for oncoming traffic.
"Good. This better not take long. Hey, is that Nick's car?"
It was, in fact, Nick's car. Michael helped her out and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
"Temperature's dropping," he said to the eighty degree air. His arm held her up and supported her.
"Welcome, table for three?" a charming blonde asked as they entered. No trace of Italy anywhere on the staff.
"No, I think..." she peered around the corner. Yes, there. She recognized that family of four and beyond them was Nick. She began to stomp towards the table he shared with the woman. The stomp withered into a determined crawl.
"I still don't get what..." Julie was silenced by the perfect view of Nick and the woman standing. He pulled her in for a light kiss on the lips.
"I don't know. This is Anna's thing. Are you all right? I should just take you home," Michael kept the car idling, waiting for Anna to demand to be taken home. His fingers twitched, ready with the urge to scoop her back into bed. Only the knowledge that Nick wasn't there and she would be alone kept his fingers in check.
"Just take us to the restaurant. Please," she begged.
I have to see this for myself. Someone has to take me, someone who can be there to catch me if I fall. And she'll be there to unleash our anger.
And...nothing. She knew it was real. Either that or she had died in the explosion and this was some kind of afterlife. Which, this version went against the religious conventions. Nope, the light turned green and stabbed. Michael turned, accelerated, and braked without a jar or bump. To Anna, she felt she was being shoved and rocked around a soup can.
"Almost there," he craned to check for oncoming traffic.
"Good. This better not take long. Hey, is that Nick's car?"
It was, in fact, Nick's car. Michael helped her out and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
"Temperature's dropping," he said to the eighty degree air. His arm held her up and supported her.
"Welcome, table for three?" a charming blonde asked as they entered. No trace of Italy anywhere on the staff.
"No, I think..." she peered around the corner. Yes, there. She recognized that family of four and beyond them was Nick. She began to stomp towards the table he shared with the woman. The stomp withered into a determined crawl.
"I still don't get what..." Julie was silenced by the perfect view of Nick and the woman standing. He pulled her in for a light kiss on the lips.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Sick
I'm calling in sick for today and tomorrow. Until I feel better, I will be curled up into a ball. Maybe I'll make it to class.
Crystal
Crystal
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
20. The Dreamer-Well, that explains it
Anna stumbled back to bed. Her head pounded and she could not keep herself upright any longer. The clear solution which had been dripped into her bloodstream was gone. It had done its job and left. Anna supposed it had other things to do, but it would have been nice if the medicine had canceled its plan and stayed.
And where was Nick? What the hell? She needed to take her meds, but she had no idea where they were. They needed to be taken with food as well. This medicine was familiar to her. Without food, the pills made her insides decide to evacuate through her mouth. And as her little excursion just showed, leaving bed for longer than thirty seconds clearly wasn't happening. Or couldn't she?
Remembering what she had done, she relaxed and pictured a door. Long minutes passed before her breathing evened. The door opened and she was in an office. Nick's office, to be exact. There was the red and black University of Georgia coffee mug she had bought for him. Next to it was a bobble head dog he claimed made him smile.
Nick was sitting there, busily typing away at the computer. Anna leaned over to look and saw he was not busily typing for his employers. Social Networks were once again chipping away at employee productivity. Ringing interrupted everything as he scrambled for the phone.
"Hello?...Oh, hey sweetie...yes, we're still on for five-thirty..." he cooed into the received.
"Is that what you're wearing?...Fine. I'll see you at Sapori D'Italia at five-thirty," and he hung up. The remaining ten minutes were taken up over online discussions of the most recent Bulldogs result. Anna experimented with going through objects, walls, doors, and even flying before he left.
She followed him to the restaurant. There he kissed a woman before they were seated at a candlelit booth.
Anna woke up and grabbed her phone.
"Michael? Come get me. And Julie. There is something at Spori D'Italia we all need to see,"
And where was Nick? What the hell? She needed to take her meds, but she had no idea where they were. They needed to be taken with food as well. This medicine was familiar to her. Without food, the pills made her insides decide to evacuate through her mouth. And as her little excursion just showed, leaving bed for longer than thirty seconds clearly wasn't happening. Or couldn't she?
Remembering what she had done, she relaxed and pictured a door. Long minutes passed before her breathing evened. The door opened and she was in an office. Nick's office, to be exact. There was the red and black University of Georgia coffee mug she had bought for him. Next to it was a bobble head dog he claimed made him smile.
Nick was sitting there, busily typing away at the computer. Anna leaned over to look and saw he was not busily typing for his employers. Social Networks were once again chipping away at employee productivity. Ringing interrupted everything as he scrambled for the phone.
"Hello?...Oh, hey sweetie...yes, we're still on for five-thirty..." he cooed into the received.
"Is that what you're wearing?...Fine. I'll see you at Sapori D'Italia at five-thirty," and he hung up. The remaining ten minutes were taken up over online discussions of the most recent Bulldogs result. Anna experimented with going through objects, walls, doors, and even flying before he left.
She followed him to the restaurant. There he kissed a woman before they were seated at a candlelit booth.
Anna woke up and grabbed her phone.
"Michael? Come get me. And Julie. There is something at Spori D'Italia we all need to see,"
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
7. Defending Earth-Before You Go
I stared at the duffel bag. It was sitting on the bed, open and waiting to be fed more items. Idly, I ripped the threads which had decided to try and run away. Once it had been bright blue, but now seemed a faded gray. Except for the dark splotch where wine had been spilled. The zipper yawned at me as teeth, waiting to finish its meal.
Except there was nothing more. Several shirts, a couple pairs of pants, underwear, several bras, just as many airs of socks, hairbrush, soap, lotion, and shampoo was all I was taking. My shoes would rest comfortably on my feet. My sword would remain in my hands.
The sword is the reason I travel light. Weapons were provided, but eventually most soldiers had one custom built for them. The maker of my sword had looked at my almost four foot and a half height and then at the type of sword I wanted. A longsword. There had been a burst of laughter, but that quickly died as he got down to business.
Weapons are expensive. In less than six months I will have mine completely paid for. Then I'd be able to buy something other than necessary clothes and food.
"Knock knock," a voice called from my doorway. It was still my room for another ten hours. Private Nieto was framed with his arms behind his back.
"Come in," I kept the order light.
"Permission to speak frankly," he asked.
"Granted,"
"Who the hell do you think you are? Were you going to say goodbye to any of us?" the words flew from his mouth and rattled around in my skull.
"I was going to find everyone before I left in the morning. I'm packing..."
"Not anymore. Boys?" he leaned out down the hall. A rush of soldiers flooded my room and I was swept away with the current. The current turned down the halls and was soon filled with alcohol.
***Ok! Labor Day yesterday so there was no post. I know it's been kinda slow, but I'm hoping to pick up the pace this week.***
Except there was nothing more. Several shirts, a couple pairs of pants, underwear, several bras, just as many airs of socks, hairbrush, soap, lotion, and shampoo was all I was taking. My shoes would rest comfortably on my feet. My sword would remain in my hands.
The sword is the reason I travel light. Weapons were provided, but eventually most soldiers had one custom built for them. The maker of my sword had looked at my almost four foot and a half height and then at the type of sword I wanted. A longsword. There had been a burst of laughter, but that quickly died as he got down to business.
Weapons are expensive. In less than six months I will have mine completely paid for. Then I'd be able to buy something other than necessary clothes and food.
"Knock knock," a voice called from my doorway. It was still my room for another ten hours. Private Nieto was framed with his arms behind his back.
"Come in," I kept the order light.
"Permission to speak frankly," he asked.
"Granted,"
"Who the hell do you think you are? Were you going to say goodbye to any of us?" the words flew from his mouth and rattled around in my skull.
"I was going to find everyone before I left in the morning. I'm packing..."
"Not anymore. Boys?" he leaned out down the hall. A rush of soldiers flooded my room and I was swept away with the current. The current turned down the halls and was soon filled with alcohol.
***Ok! Labor Day yesterday so there was no post. I know it's been kinda slow, but I'm hoping to pick up the pace this week.***
Friday, September 2, 2011
19. The Dreamer-Return Home
Nick was waiting in her apartment. The air was crisp with only a hint of bleach. Neither the counters nor the table had dishes on them, and the dishwasher was empty. Clothes in a basket before the explosion had now been washed. After being dried, they had been folded, or hung, appropriately.
The refrigerator had also been treated as well. There was no gallon of milk which had turned solid at the top, cracked, and revealed liquid the colour of death. Peaches had been spared the fate of being devoured by white and green.
The world was a carousal and she was riding alone.
"Sorry I didn't see you earlier. I had work and class. But I'm going to take care of you for a while now, ok?" thick arms wrapped around and she was dragged to a nest of blankets. Her blankets, a bundle of warm fleece which snuggled around her. Eyes closed and she faded to sleep. A dark sleep with no dreams.
And when she awoke the world was steady. The pain was back and threatened to crush her to the ground. Stumbling out of bed, she saw a note on the table, next to her meds.
At work. Back at seven.
Nick
The refrigerator had also been treated as well. There was no gallon of milk which had turned solid at the top, cracked, and revealed liquid the colour of death. Peaches had been spared the fate of being devoured by white and green.
The world was a carousal and she was riding alone.
"Sorry I didn't see you earlier. I had work and class. But I'm going to take care of you for a while now, ok?" thick arms wrapped around and she was dragged to a nest of blankets. Her blankets, a bundle of warm fleece which snuggled around her. Eyes closed and she faded to sleep. A dark sleep with no dreams.
And when she awoke the world was steady. The pain was back and threatened to crush her to the ground. Stumbling out of bed, she saw a note on the table, next to her meds.
At work. Back at seven.
Nick
Thursday, September 1, 2011
6. Defending Earth-Transfer Orders
"Sergeant?" a little voice asked, interrupting Captain Clark. He shifted his feet and looked at his watch.
"Hi, Kimby, would you run and get us some coffee?" I asked the waif. She was the younger sister of Private Andrews. They had the same moss eyes.
Blood was washed over his eyes. She had seen it coming, seen how he moved to slowly after stunning a Peregrinie. Seen how it had fallen, crushed, and trapped Andrews beneath its bulk. She had also seen the other three Peregrinies react to the first one's fall.
The closest Peregrinie had raised its front legs to bring the two black, glittering with red, clawed hoofs directly onto Andrews skull. Instead of crushing bone, the alien found steel. My sword reached taller than I and batted the hooves away.
It responded in kind. I ducked, but not quite fast enough. The edges of the claws kissed my cheek, leaving behind a second ragged smile of blood. But soldiers had rallied around Andrews. We pressed back and allowed the strongest to lift the alien.
Andrews spent the next several weeks casted and bedridden. I was given stitches and the promise of an impressive scar. Once he was released from his bonds, he went back to training. Some people make a mistake and they die. Andrews had a second chance. It was not a mistake he would make again.
Word spread, mostly from Andrews, that Helena had saved his life. Kimby soon became Helena's second shadow. She would run errands for Helena, run errands, and practice every movement until it was just like Helena's. At night, Kimby made attempt after attempt until she too could lift a longsword.
The girl would be one of the best some day. Better than any of them were now. She will have grown with a sword in her hands.
"Do you see it?" Helena asked Captain Clark.
"I can retire in peace seeing a child like that. In fact, I have been pleased with everything I have seen thus far," he began to pat his pockets until paper crinkled.
"I have orders for you to transfer," and he handed her the wrinkled papers. They were orders for her to report with Captain Clark at the Aurora Defense Base outside of Denver.
"This is unexpected, sir," she leafed through the packet. Everything was in order. Tomorrow morning she would have to leave the place she had dared to call home.
"I'm putting a team together. We need someone with your skills and abilities," and that was the only explanation he could give her.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
18. The Dreamer-It Is Planning
It watched them leave the hospital. The man, the girl, and the child. Its form quivered as it followed. It wanted to pull the man apart, lap up his screaming blood, and then feast in front of the child. The girl he wanted to watch her slowly disintegrate into nothing as no bond or vow could tie her to this world any longer.
But he couldn't do those things. The last meal its Other supped was from the man. He had awoken without the ability to visit the border world, the world where the spirit world overlapped with the solid world. The place of Dreams. The man awoke and still lived. Its Other did not. The man had stopped its Other while feeding on the child and sacrificed himself. But it had been a trap. The poison had shriveled its Other as it shrieked and screamed into memory.
And now the man was beyond his reach. Oh, he could still be killed. But not yet. It wanted that pleasure for itself. And without the man and the girl stopping It, It had fed. And fed. And fed. With each feeding, It had grown stronger. One more should allow It to become a physical form and taste real, warm, living, fresh blood.
The child would be that final feeding. The child had grown now, but It would finish the meal its Other had started. Then it would enter the solid world. Its first physical meal would be the man, the one who had killed its Other. The one who thought he had escaped It.
The bomb had been a mistake, It had learned that. It had hoped she would leap from death to pure Dreaming, a spirit trapped between worlds. Then It could have hunted and fed at leisure. But the girl had warned and saved the child. Its catspaw had been awake, so It had been unable to change and adapt the plan. Not being physical made certain things difficult.
The woman jerked her head up and stood ready with her scythe. The other two of importance walked blissfully unaware out of the hospital. It melted away into the shadows to think. When there were two of them, it had been easier to hunt. Now, It would have to deal with the Scythe Girl on its own.
But he couldn't do those things. The last meal its Other supped was from the man. He had awoken without the ability to visit the border world, the world where the spirit world overlapped with the solid world. The place of Dreams. The man awoke and still lived. Its Other did not. The man had stopped its Other while feeding on the child and sacrificed himself. But it had been a trap. The poison had shriveled its Other as it shrieked and screamed into memory.
And now the man was beyond his reach. Oh, he could still be killed. But not yet. It wanted that pleasure for itself. And without the man and the girl stopping It, It had fed. And fed. And fed. With each feeding, It had grown stronger. One more should allow It to become a physical form and taste real, warm, living, fresh blood.
The child would be that final feeding. The child had grown now, but It would finish the meal its Other had started. Then it would enter the solid world. Its first physical meal would be the man, the one who had killed its Other. The one who thought he had escaped It.
The bomb had been a mistake, It had learned that. It had hoped she would leap from death to pure Dreaming, a spirit trapped between worlds. Then It could have hunted and fed at leisure. But the girl had warned and saved the child. Its catspaw had been awake, so It had been unable to change and adapt the plan. Not being physical made certain things difficult.
The woman jerked her head up and stood ready with her scythe. The other two of importance walked blissfully unaware out of the hospital. It melted away into the shadows to think. When there were two of them, it had been easier to hunt. Now, It would have to deal with the Scythe Girl on its own.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
5. Defending Earth- Afterwards is for the Wounded and Sex
There was a click and then a hum as I set my sword in its place. It had begun to charge. Then I also placed the weapons of those who were unable to do it for themselves. Other clicks and hums soon filled the weapons room. We all searched each other's faces. Yes, Jameson was alive and whole. No one had seen Carter. Our faces were dirtier and bloodier than normal. And there were fewer of us. The wounded, missing, and KIA lists would be posted later.
"Any word on Martinez?" I knew he had been wounded. I had seen it. But there was no word.
"Sergeant Weaver, there are some things I'd like to discuss..." Captain Clark began. I looked up at him and glared. He was large, just in general a big man. I was a short African American woman. With one hand he could lift me off the ground and keep me out of the way. That's assuming he could get a hand on me. It wasn't a fight he wanted to have.
"Later. I have to check on my men," I snapped. Private Wilson was shoveling food in his mouth. Nieto and Maillaro were with female soldiers behind locked doors. I didn't ask any more questions.
And Martinez was in the hospital.
"Will he live?" that was the only question I cared about. The doctor paused, the pages of the chart sliding through his still fingers.
"Shit, I don't know. We're doing our best but..." he gestured around him. Every bed was full. That included the ones which had been pillaged from around the base earlier. From another bed, a stream of beeps became solid, summoning forth all the doctor's and nurses. I left. Tomorrow I would check n Martinez again.
Captain Clark was waiting for me. He had been my constant shadow.
"Now, what did you want to discuss?" I asked.
"Any word on Martinez?" I knew he had been wounded. I had seen it. But there was no word.
"Sergeant Weaver, there are some things I'd like to discuss..." Captain Clark began. I looked up at him and glared. He was large, just in general a big man. I was a short African American woman. With one hand he could lift me off the ground and keep me out of the way. That's assuming he could get a hand on me. It wasn't a fight he wanted to have.
"Later. I have to check on my men," I snapped. Private Wilson was shoveling food in his mouth. Nieto and Maillaro were with female soldiers behind locked doors. I didn't ask any more questions.
And Martinez was in the hospital.
"Will he live?" that was the only question I cared about. The doctor paused, the pages of the chart sliding through his still fingers.
"Shit, I don't know. We're doing our best but..." he gestured around him. Every bed was full. That included the ones which had been pillaged from around the base earlier. From another bed, a stream of beeps became solid, summoning forth all the doctor's and nurses. I left. Tomorrow I would check n Martinez again.
Captain Clark was waiting for me. He had been my constant shadow.
"Now, what did you want to discuss?" I asked.
Monday, August 29, 2011
17. The Dreamer-Flowers
When she awoke, the world was solid. A layer of darkness is gone from the world. Hospitals floors are cream with a layer or grime. The skin under her mother's eyes was purple. She was trying to lessen this shade to her natural olive by closing her eyes.
"Where's the chart for Room 24?"
"Have you been to that new coffee shop?"
"I need to see the doctor now!"
Footsteps thundered, machines beeped, each in an attempt to be the loudest noise. Scattered against the backdrop of cream and draping blue, on the the single piece of furniture, are cards. Pink, yellow, green, purple, and red were splashed on envelopes and flowers. The centerpiece was orange descending into red roses.
A new sound entered. At the knock on the door, her mother's eyes opened.
"Anna! How long have you been awake?" the fatigue which had gripped her mother temporarily gone.
"Here you go. As you eat dinner, please fill out the menu for breakfast. I'll be back shortly," and then the interruption was gone.
"How are you feeling?" the question made Anna pause. Her body was sore, tired, and in pain. But things were clearer now. The world felt real and solid.
"Better," Anna answered. The flowers demanded they be looked at. The tight corners on her mother's eyes slowly disappeared as Anna studied the flowers.
"That's good. The doctor wants to look at you tonight and see if you can go home tomorrow,"
"Sounds like a plan to me. Those flowers would look perfect in my kitchen," she could see it. Her red, dark, wooden dining room table with the orange red roses sitting on top. Her appliances and counters were black. And her dishcloths, containers, and mixer were deep red.
"Michael really outdid himself. As soon as he was released he went and bought those for you," she heard her mother's words, but didn't quite believe what she had heard.
"Michael? Not Nick? My boyfriend?"
"Oh, I'm absolutely sure. Nick hasn't stopped by to see you. He's been busy with work and school. But he has been calling every couple hours," somehow, her mother's explanation felt heavy. Then she thought of calling Michael to tell him thanks. The weight was lighter.
"Where's the chart for Room 24?"
"Have you been to that new coffee shop?"
"I need to see the doctor now!"
Footsteps thundered, machines beeped, each in an attempt to be the loudest noise. Scattered against the backdrop of cream and draping blue, on the the single piece of furniture, are cards. Pink, yellow, green, purple, and red were splashed on envelopes and flowers. The centerpiece was orange descending into red roses.
A new sound entered. At the knock on the door, her mother's eyes opened.
"Anna! How long have you been awake?" the fatigue which had gripped her mother temporarily gone.
"Here you go. As you eat dinner, please fill out the menu for breakfast. I'll be back shortly," and then the interruption was gone.
"How are you feeling?" the question made Anna pause. Her body was sore, tired, and in pain. But things were clearer now. The world felt real and solid.
"Better," Anna answered. The flowers demanded they be looked at. The tight corners on her mother's eyes slowly disappeared as Anna studied the flowers.
"That's good. The doctor wants to look at you tonight and see if you can go home tomorrow,"
"Sounds like a plan to me. Those flowers would look perfect in my kitchen," she could see it. Her red, dark, wooden dining room table with the orange red roses sitting on top. Her appliances and counters were black. And her dishcloths, containers, and mixer were deep red.
"Michael really outdid himself. As soon as he was released he went and bought those for you," she heard her mother's words, but didn't quite believe what she had heard.
"Michael? Not Nick? My boyfriend?"
"Oh, I'm absolutely sure. Nick hasn't stopped by to see you. He's been busy with work and school. But he has been calling every couple hours," somehow, her mother's explanation felt heavy. Then she thought of calling Michael to tell him thanks. The weight was lighter.
Busy Day
Today's post will be later in the day than normal. I am super busy today with work and class, so I won't be able to sit and do this for a while. Thanks for your patience!
Crystal
Crystal
Friday, August 26, 2011
16. The Dreamer-Hunger Struck
14 Years Earlier
The new Dreamer flitted through the city. He was fresh and flying around, enjoying the preview of being a ghost. To free, to obvious, and he had already attracted attention.
"You had better sense, John," Aislinn murmured as they watched. Now the youth twisted in the air, gold hair flashing with each rotation.
"How long have you been watching?" he asked. As soon as he had fallen asleep, Aislinn had pulled him to this location.
"A while," she answered. Which could be minutes or hours. Time was entirely relative in this state.
"Why didn't you talk to him?" he admonished, slightly, as he moved himself into the youth's view.
"I only serve him and his," she answered. It was the response he could have expected. Not much was known about Aislinn, she kept her secrets well. He knew two things: she only existed in this state, and long ago she had made a vow to one of his ancestors. That man had also been a Dreamer and she swore to protect him and his descendants. She literally could not touch any other mortal lives. That was something John had a hard time remembering.
"Right," he turned his attention to the boy. Now the boy was whooping and hollering. It was exilerating to see the world below. To see your loved ones as they were awake. To visit anywhere and not be bound by physical laws. And then you learned the limits. And then you learned the dangers.
"Hey! Hey, kid," he shouted. The golden hair stopped circling.
"Who's that?" was the answer.
"My name is John. There's a few things I need to explain," he pictured himself next to the kid. He was there His eyes opened and he caught his first taste of the area...
There. He could feel it. A gun appeared in his hands with hardly a thought.
"What the..." the boy began, but John cut him off.
"Get down to the ground. It's here," Aislinn had joined them. A roar shook the world.
"Fuck," John circled. Now there were two of them. Of it.
They struck without warning. One flying at them in his blurry human form. He was firing at John and swinging a sword at Aislinn. From everywhere, tentacles appeared. They wrapped the boy.
"Good food," the humanish one hissed at Aislinn. But it was losing. It was not strong enough to withstand both John and Aislinn. To late, John realized the danger. It hadn't meant to stop them. Only slow them down.
The tentacles gorged and sucked. The boys screams faded and died away, as his body did before their eyes.
The new Dreamer flitted through the city. He was fresh and flying around, enjoying the preview of being a ghost. To free, to obvious, and he had already attracted attention.
"You had better sense, John," Aislinn murmured as they watched. Now the youth twisted in the air, gold hair flashing with each rotation.
"How long have you been watching?" he asked. As soon as he had fallen asleep, Aislinn had pulled him to this location.
"A while," she answered. Which could be minutes or hours. Time was entirely relative in this state.
"Why didn't you talk to him?" he admonished, slightly, as he moved himself into the youth's view.
"I only serve him and his," she answered. It was the response he could have expected. Not much was known about Aislinn, she kept her secrets well. He knew two things: she only existed in this state, and long ago she had made a vow to one of his ancestors. That man had also been a Dreamer and she swore to protect him and his descendants. She literally could not touch any other mortal lives. That was something John had a hard time remembering.
"Right," he turned his attention to the boy. Now the boy was whooping and hollering. It was exilerating to see the world below. To see your loved ones as they were awake. To visit anywhere and not be bound by physical laws. And then you learned the limits. And then you learned the dangers.
"Hey! Hey, kid," he shouted. The golden hair stopped circling.
"Who's that?" was the answer.
"My name is John. There's a few things I need to explain," he pictured himself next to the kid. He was there His eyes opened and he caught his first taste of the area...
There. He could feel it. A gun appeared in his hands with hardly a thought.
"What the..." the boy began, but John cut him off.
"Get down to the ground. It's here," Aislinn had joined them. A roar shook the world.
"Fuck," John circled. Now there were two of them. Of it.
They struck without warning. One flying at them in his blurry human form. He was firing at John and swinging a sword at Aislinn. From everywhere, tentacles appeared. They wrapped the boy.
"Good food," the humanish one hissed at Aislinn. But it was losing. It was not strong enough to withstand both John and Aislinn. To late, John realized the danger. It hadn't meant to stop them. Only slow them down.
The tentacles gorged and sucked. The boys screams faded and died away, as his body did before their eyes.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
4. Defending Earth-Battle
"Sergeant, is that really Captain Clark?" Private Martinez asked. A distant roar was coming closer with each moment. The room was vibrating in time with the thunder. I lifted my sword slightly so it wouldn't clink against the unsteady earth.
"That would be me," he answered. A hushed silence fell over the eight soldiers clustered around the exit. For once, their eyes were not on the approaching threat.
"It's an honor, sir," one choked out. The roar had consumed every other sound. Tiny pebbles danced at their feet. They watched as the first wave of aliens washed over their hiding spot. I quickly counted. The humans outnumbered the aliens almost three to one. I didn't like those odds.
The signal was given. We poured out from the underground honeycomb, appearing everywhere in the herd at once. With the sudden appearance of the enemy, the herd stopped advancing. Strange high pitched, grating screams filled the air. Something impacted the ground behind me. The earth heaved in response and I was thrown to the ground. I scrambled to rise and turn.
Gracefully it rose on the back two legs. The front was coming and I leaped before I could be thrown to my feet a second time. Martinez stabbed with his spear. With a clack it missed slipping between scales and bounced off. The fibrous head began to twist. Sun glinting off my blade, I hacked at those fibers.
As my blade passed through, it twisted its head. Clinging my sword, I twisted to land on my feet. Martinez was trying to stab again. A leg kicked and raked his chest open. The red rivers appeared in front of my eyes. He sailed away, the red leaving a trail.
Another leg had decided to try the same thing with me. Human screams and defiant shouts had joined the symphony. The sound of metal on scale, of weapon discharges completed the music. Adding my own voice, I charged the alien. It twisted its dripping tentacles and swung towards me.
I jumped and grabbed, the alien now carrying me towards its side. Letting go, I flew and stabbed. My sword found purchase. The blade slid easily between two scales, momentum adding to the ease of the cut. The scream increased in pitch as I slammed my hand against the end of the blade. My weapon began to hum and the creature went still. Shuddering, the ground began to come closer. Pulling my sword, I fell and rolled.
And then there was another. I looked and great clawed hooves were rushing towards my face. Before I could react, a hammer batted them away. Captain Clark swung his hammer again and the alien backed off. Using my sword for leverage, I stood at his side.
"Not bad. You take the right, I'll take the left?" his words were a growl. Blood and dust were everywhere I looked.
"Let's do it," and we did. His hammer crumpled what appeared to be a knee, although xenobiologists had long argued there weren't any bones which we recognized. Still, it appeared to work just as well as on a creature which did have bones. My sword pried a scale off.
The thing screamed. A trunk wrapped itself around Clark and sent him flying. The same leg kicked out and it was my turn. Well, I didn't fly so much as bounce off the ground. Looking, I saw it was advancing towards me again. Soldiers were tossed aside like gnats as it continued to pursue me. On my feet once again, I held my sword ready.
He appeared out of no where. The hammer sank itself into the back of the alien's neck. A shudder went through the beast as Captain Clark turned on his weapon. It shuddered and fell. Then a brief flash of light. With nothing holding him up, Captain Clark fell. The aliens had disappeared, teleporting to where they came from.
We collected our wounded and dead.
"That would be me," he answered. A hushed silence fell over the eight soldiers clustered around the exit. For once, their eyes were not on the approaching threat.
"It's an honor, sir," one choked out. The roar had consumed every other sound. Tiny pebbles danced at their feet. They watched as the first wave of aliens washed over their hiding spot. I quickly counted. The humans outnumbered the aliens almost three to one. I didn't like those odds.
The signal was given. We poured out from the underground honeycomb, appearing everywhere in the herd at once. With the sudden appearance of the enemy, the herd stopped advancing. Strange high pitched, grating screams filled the air. Something impacted the ground behind me. The earth heaved in response and I was thrown to the ground. I scrambled to rise and turn.
Gracefully it rose on the back two legs. The front was coming and I leaped before I could be thrown to my feet a second time. Martinez stabbed with his spear. With a clack it missed slipping between scales and bounced off. The fibrous head began to twist. Sun glinting off my blade, I hacked at those fibers.
As my blade passed through, it twisted its head. Clinging my sword, I twisted to land on my feet. Martinez was trying to stab again. A leg kicked and raked his chest open. The red rivers appeared in front of my eyes. He sailed away, the red leaving a trail.
Another leg had decided to try the same thing with me. Human screams and defiant shouts had joined the symphony. The sound of metal on scale, of weapon discharges completed the music. Adding my own voice, I charged the alien. It twisted its dripping tentacles and swung towards me.
I jumped and grabbed, the alien now carrying me towards its side. Letting go, I flew and stabbed. My sword found purchase. The blade slid easily between two scales, momentum adding to the ease of the cut. The scream increased in pitch as I slammed my hand against the end of the blade. My weapon began to hum and the creature went still. Shuddering, the ground began to come closer. Pulling my sword, I fell and rolled.
And then there was another. I looked and great clawed hooves were rushing towards my face. Before I could react, a hammer batted them away. Captain Clark swung his hammer again and the alien backed off. Using my sword for leverage, I stood at his side.
"Not bad. You take the right, I'll take the left?" his words were a growl. Blood and dust were everywhere I looked.
"Let's do it," and we did. His hammer crumpled what appeared to be a knee, although xenobiologists had long argued there weren't any bones which we recognized. Still, it appeared to work just as well as on a creature which did have bones. My sword pried a scale off.
The thing screamed. A trunk wrapped itself around Clark and sent him flying. The same leg kicked out and it was my turn. Well, I didn't fly so much as bounce off the ground. Looking, I saw it was advancing towards me again. Soldiers were tossed aside like gnats as it continued to pursue me. On my feet once again, I held my sword ready.
He appeared out of no where. The hammer sank itself into the back of the alien's neck. A shudder went through the beast as Captain Clark turned on his weapon. It shuddered and fell. Then a brief flash of light. With nothing holding him up, Captain Clark fell. The aliens had disappeared, teleporting to where they came from.
We collected our wounded and dead.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
15. The Dreamer-What the Danger is
Present
Anna eyes were finally laying still. The drugs had won and her sleep was easy, without dreams.
"My poor baby," he whispered softly. Claire was at home catching up on her needed rest. She had been watching vigil every moment since the call. The call saying their daughter had been a hero in the explosion. The call that told them she was in the hospital. Now it was his turn to watch over their daughter.
His fingers twitched. Something dark, something, something long remembered and never forgotten. Never could have forgotten. That scent was now on his daughter. Dusted, as though the thing was smugly saying "I have your daughter,".
Aislinn. He had to talk to Aislinn. Curling his finger in Anna's palm, he relaxed. Breathing. Falling to asleep at will was the first trick he had learned. The next was trickier and one he had no experience for. Father and daughter, something in them, in their DNA, was exactly the same. Both had the Dreaming Powers, inherited from him. Which meant, hopefully, her genes which gave her the Dreaming gift were the same as his. Pulling on their relationship, he delved inside of her unconscious mind. And Dreamed.
"I was wondering when you would see me again," the small Japanese woman said from the corner.
"Tell me everything," the words were quicker and harsher than he intended. One eyebrow lifted on the white face as she smoothed her schoolgirl outfit. It was black and electric blue, to match her hair.
"She's been fighting against the barrier for some time. A man cares very much for her and is calling her name. She doesn't know who it is, but she knows them in real life. She has been wondering who loves her that much," she paused to consider the girl's father. For his part he seemed to be doing rather well. The swirling emotions were being kept calm.
"And so the barrier broke. I tried to grab her, warn her, and take her away. She was in my arms, I told her she shouldn't be there, and we were both yanked," this time he did not control his emotions as well. She calmly pretended not to notice the fifty caliber handgun which had appeared in his hands.
"As I was fighting it, she awoke. It set the bomb, hoping she would Dream to save her life. Then he could destroy her and your line completely," the air shivered with her words.
Anna eyes were finally laying still. The drugs had won and her sleep was easy, without dreams.
"My poor baby," he whispered softly. Claire was at home catching up on her needed rest. She had been watching vigil every moment since the call. The call saying their daughter had been a hero in the explosion. The call that told them she was in the hospital. Now it was his turn to watch over their daughter.
His fingers twitched. Something dark, something, something long remembered and never forgotten. Never could have forgotten. That scent was now on his daughter. Dusted, as though the thing was smugly saying "I have your daughter,".
Aislinn. He had to talk to Aislinn. Curling his finger in Anna's palm, he relaxed. Breathing. Falling to asleep at will was the first trick he had learned. The next was trickier and one he had no experience for. Father and daughter, something in them, in their DNA, was exactly the same. Both had the Dreaming Powers, inherited from him. Which meant, hopefully, her genes which gave her the Dreaming gift were the same as his. Pulling on their relationship, he delved inside of her unconscious mind. And Dreamed.
"I was wondering when you would see me again," the small Japanese woman said from the corner.
"Tell me everything," the words were quicker and harsher than he intended. One eyebrow lifted on the white face as she smoothed her schoolgirl outfit. It was black and electric blue, to match her hair.
"She's been fighting against the barrier for some time. A man cares very much for her and is calling her name. She doesn't know who it is, but she knows them in real life. She has been wondering who loves her that much," she paused to consider the girl's father. For his part he seemed to be doing rather well. The swirling emotions were being kept calm.
"And so the barrier broke. I tried to grab her, warn her, and take her away. She was in my arms, I told her she shouldn't be there, and we were both yanked," this time he did not control his emotions as well. She calmly pretended not to notice the fifty caliber handgun which had appeared in his hands.
"As I was fighting it, she awoke. It set the bomb, hoping she would Dream to save her life. Then he could destroy her and your line completely," the air shivered with her words.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
3. The Defending Earth-Weapons and Aliens
Weapons glistened from the racks in front of them. Longswords, broadswords, claymores, scimitars, spears, axes, war-hammers, and many more hand weapons stood ready. The aliens were covered in scales which were naturally bullet proof. Air-borne ordinance was also ineffective. No one was sure why. Scientists shrugged and said they were aliens. Their technology was baffling.
And so war had returned to face to face, handheld combat. That's not to say the weapons weren't modified. Each one had wiring and circuitry built in under the blade. Each blade could surge enough electricity to kill many people with the press of a button on the handle. Even the war-hammers had a sharpened spike on the handle. The racks charged the weapons. Once the blade cut into the alien flesh the surge would stun the alien. Death was hard to deliver, but sleep was easier.
Helena selected her sword. It was a longsword, the pommel long molded to her hands. Beside her, Captain Clark raised the newest addition to the armory. It was his weapon, a great war-hammer. Other soldiers were selecting their weapons. As each soldier picked up their weapon, a part of their body was returned to them.
"Sergeant Weaver, your squad and Captain Clark will be positioned here. Wait to break cover and attack for when the signal is given," the orders barked out. Heads turned and gaped when they heard the name Captain Clark. Helena ignored them. They were in the front line. They would be the first to engage the enemy.
Jeeps sped the through underground tunnels. The tunnels twisted and branched, each one ending in a small room. There the jeep deposited its soldiers and was able to turn around. The plains were honeycombed with people, ready to attack what was thundering ahead. They crouched and looked out over the golden fields.
They were coming. Four legs hitting and pushing off the ground at the same time. It wasn't a run, it was a hop. If you didn't see the head, you would assume it was a large, scaled horse coming towards you this had earned them the name Equitum Magnum Peregrinus, or Peregrinies for the layperson. The head is where things became different. It was a mass of tentacles which could twist together and form a long trunk.
Each soldier tensed as they came forward, waiting for the signal.
And so war had returned to face to face, handheld combat. That's not to say the weapons weren't modified. Each one had wiring and circuitry built in under the blade. Each blade could surge enough electricity to kill many people with the press of a button on the handle. Even the war-hammers had a sharpened spike on the handle. The racks charged the weapons. Once the blade cut into the alien flesh the surge would stun the alien. Death was hard to deliver, but sleep was easier.
Helena selected her sword. It was a longsword, the pommel long molded to her hands. Beside her, Captain Clark raised the newest addition to the armory. It was his weapon, a great war-hammer. Other soldiers were selecting their weapons. As each soldier picked up their weapon, a part of their body was returned to them.
"Sergeant Weaver, your squad and Captain Clark will be positioned here. Wait to break cover and attack for when the signal is given," the orders barked out. Heads turned and gaped when they heard the name Captain Clark. Helena ignored them. They were in the front line. They would be the first to engage the enemy.
Jeeps sped the through underground tunnels. The tunnels twisted and branched, each one ending in a small room. There the jeep deposited its soldiers and was able to turn around. The plains were honeycombed with people, ready to attack what was thundering ahead. They crouched and looked out over the golden fields.
They were coming. Four legs hitting and pushing off the ground at the same time. It wasn't a run, it was a hop. If you didn't see the head, you would assume it was a large, scaled horse coming towards you this had earned them the name Equitum Magnum Peregrinus, or Peregrinies for the layperson. The head is where things became different. It was a mass of tentacles which could twist together and form a long trunk.
Each soldier tensed as they came forward, waiting for the signal.
Monday, August 22, 2011
14. The Dreamer-Sparring Protectors
14 Years Earlier
The scythe flashed towards his face. He twisted out of the way and brought his gun up. Now it was her turn to dodge as he fired. Picturing, no, feeling himself in the air, with no ground beneath him, and seeing her kimono and hair from behind, transported him. He hung in the air and fired several more rounds into the back of her head. It was a dream overlapped with reality. While Dreaming, it was possible to teleport and fly.
She was faster than him and disappeared. The bullets sailed harmlessly past. There was no visual cue, no auditory hint, but he felt her behind him. It was almost a physical sensation, her presence behind him. The scythe cut towards the back of his head. This time he pulled the sword from his side to block the downward thrusting scythe.
It was a weak parry and only deflected the incoming blade. He had anticipated this since he was wielding the normally two-handed blade with one hand. His other fired the gun and this time they found their mark. She had been hit. She was down. He had won.
"Very good," Aislinn applauded from her stricken form. The torn, bloodied body and clothes soon appeared as though nothing had happened.
"I'm slightly more dedicated now," he pinched two fingers in front of his face. The sparring session over, his weapons disappeared. Not Aislinn's.
"Because of your daughter?" she didn't crack a smile. It wasn't something that happened often. The scythe shifted to sit over one of her shoulders.
"I have to be ready to protect her when she starts Dreaming," picturing and feeling his house, his daughter's room, he went home. It was a difficult jump to make. Every day places changed. Even the house of the most obsessive neat freak changed in subtle ways. To teleport, a place had to be imagined perfectly. The more differences and discrepancies there were, the harder it was. If there were enough it simply wasn't possible.
And there she was. Sleeping. His daughter. His angel. His baby. No matter how old she became, she would always be those things. If another parent claimed their child was the most beautiful, he was prepared to throw down. And everyone he met knew she had just won the Spelling Bee.
"You have been watching over her?" he asked.
"Of course," she had found a comfortable place to sit on Anna's dresser.
"Good," he managed to choke out. His daughter, a Dreamer. He remembered touching her at the Bee. Aislinn had camly explained it was, indeed, possible. Genetics had passed on the ability. It was a gift he had never wanted for her.
The scythe flashed towards his face. He twisted out of the way and brought his gun up. Now it was her turn to dodge as he fired. Picturing, no, feeling himself in the air, with no ground beneath him, and seeing her kimono and hair from behind, transported him. He hung in the air and fired several more rounds into the back of her head. It was a dream overlapped with reality. While Dreaming, it was possible to teleport and fly.
She was faster than him and disappeared. The bullets sailed harmlessly past. There was no visual cue, no auditory hint, but he felt her behind him. It was almost a physical sensation, her presence behind him. The scythe cut towards the back of his head. This time he pulled the sword from his side to block the downward thrusting scythe.
It was a weak parry and only deflected the incoming blade. He had anticipated this since he was wielding the normally two-handed blade with one hand. His other fired the gun and this time they found their mark. She had been hit. She was down. He had won.
"Very good," Aislinn applauded from her stricken form. The torn, bloodied body and clothes soon appeared as though nothing had happened.
"I'm slightly more dedicated now," he pinched two fingers in front of his face. The sparring session over, his weapons disappeared. Not Aislinn's.
"Because of your daughter?" she didn't crack a smile. It wasn't something that happened often. The scythe shifted to sit over one of her shoulders.
"I have to be ready to protect her when she starts Dreaming," picturing and feeling his house, his daughter's room, he went home. It was a difficult jump to make. Every day places changed. Even the house of the most obsessive neat freak changed in subtle ways. To teleport, a place had to be imagined perfectly. The more differences and discrepancies there were, the harder it was. If there were enough it simply wasn't possible.
And there she was. Sleeping. His daughter. His angel. His baby. No matter how old she became, she would always be those things. If another parent claimed their child was the most beautiful, he was prepared to throw down. And everyone he met knew she had just won the Spelling Bee.
"You have been watching over her?" he asked.
"Of course," she had found a comfortable place to sit on Anna's dresser.
"Good," he managed to choke out. His daughter, a Dreamer. He remembered touching her at the Bee. Aislinn had camly explained it was, indeed, possible. Genetics had passed on the ability. It was a gift he had never wanted for her.
Friday, August 19, 2011
13. The Dreamer-Belief
Present
"So you knew?" Anna asked flatly. Various emotions were rising and ebbing within her. Anger that her father had never told her any of this before. Gratitude and love that he hadn't missed out on as much of her life as she'd thought.
The Spelling Bee had always been a mixed memory with her. Yes, she had been proud to win. But there had also been pain. One of the proudest moments of her childhood and her father had not been there to share it with her. Except he had been.
"I suspected. After I realized I was able to touch you, Aislinn said you were probably a Dreamer," he answered. There was a pause as a nurse came in to check on her.
"When came I go home?" Anna was tired of being in the hospital. IV's and connections to machines were wearing thin. She wanted her arms back. She'd heard the new plastic needles that were used in IV's hurt less than the metal ones. If so, she never wanted a metal one stuck in her arm.
"The doctor will have the final say, but probably tomorrow," and then she was alone with her father once more.
"Why didn't you ever tell me any of this before? I was so upset as a kid. You were gone so much," sleep began to creep up on her. With each passing moment, it was harder and harder to stay awake. The darkness was working to swallow her again.
"Would you have believed me?" with his question, her first instinct was to say yes. She held the response inside. It wasn't something that one could answer rashly.
"No," she finally sighed.
"That's why," he reached and gave her hands a squeeze. It was the best they could do instead of a hug.
"So what happened?" there was much more for him to tell, she knew. She could feel it. Once more, he began to tell her of the past.
"So you knew?" Anna asked flatly. Various emotions were rising and ebbing within her. Anger that her father had never told her any of this before. Gratitude and love that he hadn't missed out on as much of her life as she'd thought.
The Spelling Bee had always been a mixed memory with her. Yes, she had been proud to win. But there had also been pain. One of the proudest moments of her childhood and her father had not been there to share it with her. Except he had been.
"I suspected. After I realized I was able to touch you, Aislinn said you were probably a Dreamer," he answered. There was a pause as a nurse came in to check on her.
"When came I go home?" Anna was tired of being in the hospital. IV's and connections to machines were wearing thin. She wanted her arms back. She'd heard the new plastic needles that were used in IV's hurt less than the metal ones. If so, she never wanted a metal one stuck in her arm.
"The doctor will have the final say, but probably tomorrow," and then she was alone with her father once more.
"Why didn't you ever tell me any of this before? I was so upset as a kid. You were gone so much," sleep began to creep up on her. With each passing moment, it was harder and harder to stay awake. The darkness was working to swallow her again.
"Would you have believed me?" with his question, her first instinct was to say yes. She held the response inside. It wasn't something that one could answer rashly.
"No," she finally sighed.
"That's why," he reached and gave her hands a squeeze. It was the best they could do instead of a hug.
"So what happened?" there was much more for him to tell, she knew. She could feel it. Once more, he began to tell her of the past.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
2. Defending Earth-The Arriving Captain
I woke up that morning with a strong sense of purpose.
That's a lie. I was tired, sore, and just wanted to sleep for a week. Captain Clark had, as always, assigned me to teach them the combat basics. That was before the attack.
"Sergeant Weaver, report immediately to the Command Center, a voice bliped over the intercom. Muttering to myself I crawled out of bed. At least there would be coffee. Checking the time I saw they had let me sleep for almost eight hours. That was decent of them.
Lights flickered at random intervals throughout the underground tunnels. With the attacks coming more frequently, maintenance had dropped in priority. Looking up, I saw darkness where light should have been streaming through the skylights. It had snowed while I had slept. Very considerate of the snow to wait until after the attack was over.
Perhaps I should have taken that as a sign.
"Sergeant Weaver, this is Captain Clark," Colonel Hager stated after I reported in. Despite myself, I gaped.
"Captain Clark? THE Captain Clark?" I repeated like a broken record. Id never heard a broken record, but it was something my mom used to say. His strong, calloused hand shook mine. The edges of his mouth tugged, but he didn't blush. He was used to this reaction.
And no wonder. It was said he was the only thing the Peregrinies feared. Officially he had killed nine of the large aliens. I have to admit, he was not what I expected. The Captain's uniform was slightly worn. Despite the physical activity he had to maintain, there was a slight sign of pudginess. His hair was somewhat wispy, a very light brown or dirty blonde. I couldn't decide which.
"You've heard of me. It is an equal pleasure to meet Sergeant Weaver. Your trainees have the highest survival rate in the Americas," his voice was soft.
"Captain Clark transferred here because of the increase in attacks we've been having. Now..." a blast from the alarm cut the Colonel off in mid-sentence. All eyes flipped to the screen on the wall. It showed the topography in real time. Small blips were making their way to our city. Another attack.
"Show Captain Clark where to suit up," the Colonel instructed me before getting on the intercom. As he ordered for every soldier to arm themselves, we were already heading to the weapons rooms.
That's a lie. I was tired, sore, and just wanted to sleep for a week. Captain Clark had, as always, assigned me to teach them the combat basics. That was before the attack.
"Sergeant Weaver, report immediately to the Command Center, a voice bliped over the intercom. Muttering to myself I crawled out of bed. At least there would be coffee. Checking the time I saw they had let me sleep for almost eight hours. That was decent of them.
Lights flickered at random intervals throughout the underground tunnels. With the attacks coming more frequently, maintenance had dropped in priority. Looking up, I saw darkness where light should have been streaming through the skylights. It had snowed while I had slept. Very considerate of the snow to wait until after the attack was over.
Perhaps I should have taken that as a sign.
"Sergeant Weaver, this is Captain Clark," Colonel Hager stated after I reported in. Despite myself, I gaped.
"Captain Clark? THE Captain Clark?" I repeated like a broken record. Id never heard a broken record, but it was something my mom used to say. His strong, calloused hand shook mine. The edges of his mouth tugged, but he didn't blush. He was used to this reaction.
And no wonder. It was said he was the only thing the Peregrinies feared. Officially he had killed nine of the large aliens. I have to admit, he was not what I expected. The Captain's uniform was slightly worn. Despite the physical activity he had to maintain, there was a slight sign of pudginess. His hair was somewhat wispy, a very light brown or dirty blonde. I couldn't decide which.
"You've heard of me. It is an equal pleasure to meet Sergeant Weaver. Your trainees have the highest survival rate in the Americas," his voice was soft.
"Captain Clark transferred here because of the increase in attacks we've been having. Now..." a blast from the alarm cut the Colonel off in mid-sentence. All eyes flipped to the screen on the wall. It showed the topography in real time. Small blips were making their way to our city. Another attack.
"Show Captain Clark where to suit up," the Colonel instructed me before getting on the intercom. As he ordered for every soldier to arm themselves, we were already heading to the weapons rooms.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
12. The Dreamer-The Bee
14 years earlier...
"G...U...T...T...A...T...E...guttate," the twelve year old chirped.
"Yes!" he shouted and clapped. No one turned, the audiences attention remained fixed on his daughter.
"How is Anna doing?" the words echoed around him. Moments later, Aislinn appeared with her scythe.
"Good so far, but she still has a ways to go," he answered as his daughter stepped away from the microphone. The dimples dotted her cheeks as she tried to keep a smile from taking over her face. They were the same dimples her mother had.
"I didn't think I would care so much, but I hope she wins. We put a lot of time into helping her study," Aislinn said wryly. The past few weeks had put their normal nightly routine on hold. He had insisted they visit Anna and spell words in her dreams. So far it seemed to have worked.
The next time Anna was up, he placed his hand in his wife's. Literally inside hers. He had no physical form at the moment. Claire couldn't feel him either, but the action gave him comfort. Her own hands were gripped together in her lap. Not that either of them needed to worry. Anna spelled the word correctly.
"Mommy!" Anna rushed to Claire's arms after the Bee was over. Her fingers clutched the blue ribbon.
"Anna-kins! I'm so proud of you!" both parents echoed at the same time. Only Claire was heard.
"Do you think daddy will be proud?" the small disappointment broke his heart.
"I know he will be," Claire answered.
"I am," he told his daughter. She couldn't hear.
"He promised he would be here," Anna looked down at her ribbon. Aislinn reached and squeezed his hand. It was the only physical comfort he could have at the moment. He needed it.
"I know he did, but he had to go. His job sent him away,"
"To England," the child sighed and his heart broke. He wrapped his arms around Anna. She couldn't feel it and his arms would pass right through her. But he needed to hold her.
He felt solid flesh. Sadness seemed to drain from Anna. Smiling, she looked back up at Claire.
"I think he was watching me in spirit, mom," unconsciously she toyed with her blue ribbon.
"I think you're right. Come on, let's get some ice cream!" and they walked off. Aislinn looked at him, her expression unreadable.
"That shouldn't have happened,"
"G...U...T...T...A...T...E...guttate," the twelve year old chirped.
"Yes!" he shouted and clapped. No one turned, the audiences attention remained fixed on his daughter.
"How is Anna doing?" the words echoed around him. Moments later, Aislinn appeared with her scythe.
"Good so far, but she still has a ways to go," he answered as his daughter stepped away from the microphone. The dimples dotted her cheeks as she tried to keep a smile from taking over her face. They were the same dimples her mother had.
"I didn't think I would care so much, but I hope she wins. We put a lot of time into helping her study," Aislinn said wryly. The past few weeks had put their normal nightly routine on hold. He had insisted they visit Anna and spell words in her dreams. So far it seemed to have worked.
The next time Anna was up, he placed his hand in his wife's. Literally inside hers. He had no physical form at the moment. Claire couldn't feel him either, but the action gave him comfort. Her own hands were gripped together in her lap. Not that either of them needed to worry. Anna spelled the word correctly.
"Mommy!" Anna rushed to Claire's arms after the Bee was over. Her fingers clutched the blue ribbon.
"Anna-kins! I'm so proud of you!" both parents echoed at the same time. Only Claire was heard.
"Do you think daddy will be proud?" the small disappointment broke his heart.
"I know he will be," Claire answered.
"I am," he told his daughter. She couldn't hear.
"He promised he would be here," Anna looked down at her ribbon. Aislinn reached and squeezed his hand. It was the only physical comfort he could have at the moment. He needed it.
"I know he did, but he had to go. His job sent him away,"
"To England," the child sighed and his heart broke. He wrapped his arms around Anna. She couldn't feel it and his arms would pass right through her. But he needed to hold her.
He felt solid flesh. Sadness seemed to drain from Anna. Smiling, she looked back up at Claire.
"I think he was watching me in spirit, mom," unconsciously she toyed with her blue ribbon.
"I think you're right. Come on, let's get some ice cream!" and they walked off. Aislinn looked at him, her expression unreadable.
"That shouldn't have happened,"
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
1. Defending Earth-Why I Fight
Why do I fight?
I don't know how may of them were true. But she's gone now, along with many who could remember before the Invasion. Before the arrival of the Peregrinies from an unknown world beyond ours. Some mourn this loss of history and culture. I cannot claim this. For me, I miss my mother. But she's gone and no matter how many of them I kill, she will not return.
Yet I see the children, frolicking and playing in this world, the only one they have known. The only one I have known. And they need their mothers and fathers. I fight so these children will not have to cry alone. So they can know their parents and fall asleep at night to the sounds of those stories my mother told me.
Some say it is a losing battle. They say humanity is lost, a species slowly heading towards extinction. I cannot believe this. They may never leave Earth and we may never be in complete control of our planet again. But this is our home and it always will be. And so I fight.
My name is Helena Weaver. I am a soldier in the Coloradan Army. We will live. The Peregrinies will bleed for every inch of our world they take. We will make them bleed so much they leave. That is what I believe. That is why I fight.
Monday, August 15, 2011
11. The Dreamer-Inheritance
"Strange dreams? What do you mean, dad?" she tried to sound confused. Which wasn't that hard to fake because her head did hurt. The hospital had given her some very strong drugs for the pain. Anna had yet to decide if they were actually helping or simply made her not care about said pain.
"Anna," her father said sharply. Her deception had failed.
"There was this one. Someone was strangling me and when I woke up there were bruises," at her father's expression, Anna stopped. Murderous desire filled his eyes. It was something she had never seen in his loving eyes before.
"Continue," despite what she saw on his face, his voice was even. Swallowing, she continued.
"And...and I keep seeing this girl. She looks like and anime character. Oh, and she always carries a scythe," when the word scythe passed from his lips, his expression cleared. Now he appeared satisfied. Or perhaps pleased.
"Dad, what's happening to me?" she asked in a small voice. He reached and gave one of her hands a squeeze.
"You have an ability, that you got from me. Some people call it astral projection. We always called it Dreaming. When you are asleep, you can leave your body and go wherever you want," he began.
"So I'm not crazy?" the question burst from her lips. A small chuckle was his immediate response to her question.
"No, you're not. When you are Dreaming, it is very real," he patted her hand. A tension she didn't know was inside left her. She was about to thank a higher power for not being crazy, but one word her father said made her pause.
"Who's we?" she pressed. And now her father was wistful, looking back into the mists of memory.
"The one with the scythe. Her name is Aislinn,"
"Anna," her father said sharply. Her deception had failed.
"There was this one. Someone was strangling me and when I woke up there were bruises," at her father's expression, Anna stopped. Murderous desire filled his eyes. It was something she had never seen in his loving eyes before.
"Continue," despite what she saw on his face, his voice was even. Swallowing, she continued.
"And...and I keep seeing this girl. She looks like and anime character. Oh, and she always carries a scythe," when the word scythe passed from his lips, his expression cleared. Now he appeared satisfied. Or perhaps pleased.
"Dad, what's happening to me?" she asked in a small voice. He reached and gave one of her hands a squeeze.
"You have an ability, that you got from me. Some people call it astral projection. We always called it Dreaming. When you are asleep, you can leave your body and go wherever you want," he began.
"So I'm not crazy?" the question burst from her lips. A small chuckle was his immediate response to her question.
"No, you're not. When you are Dreaming, it is very real," he patted her hand. A tension she didn't know was inside left her. She was about to thank a higher power for not being crazy, but one word her father said made her pause.
"Who's we?" she pressed. And now her father was wistful, looking back into the mists of memory.
"The one with the scythe. Her name is Aislinn,"
Sunday, August 14, 2011
10. The Dreamer-Father Knows
Her mother and the police had lots of questions to ask. Anna told them she had seen the bomb under the chair. Her reason for being in that area of the club was simply she had gotten tired of waiting for Nick and the drinks. Bored, she had decided to walk for a moment. The police seemed satisfied with all her answers. There was no need to mention Scythe Girl.
From her other she learned over a day had passed since then. It was a day Anna would never remember. Apparently, she had been conscious, but her mind had been stuck in a loop. She would open her eyes, ask what happened, ask where her father was, and then repeat. Nick had visited, but he was at work. Michael was also in the hospital, although he had managed not to have slammed his head when the explosion happened.
There was also a reporter. The news was calling her a local hero. Which was all well and good, but she didn't feel like a hero. Her mother had left when the officer arrived to ask his questions. Someone needed to pick her father up from the airport. The reporter had just finished when he walked in.
There were dark circles under his eyes, wrinkles in his clothes, and a five o'clock shadow. Yet when she waved at him, he lit up. Winning the lottery could not have made him happier than seeing his daughter recovering.
"Hey dad," she greeted him through the head injury and medicinal haze.
"Anna, if you wanted me to come home early you could have asked," the sarcasm was empty and the words fell flat. Still, she managed to smile.
"Honey, can you wait outside?" he asked his wife, Anna's. The surprise was evident on her mother's face.
"I'll get you some food. You didn't stop for lunch," and then she left. Father and daughter were alone in the room.
"Your mother told me what happened and what you told the police," he paused to look intently at Anna.
"Yea, lucky I got bored," she laughed, haltingly. The lie which had come so easily with everyone else was a strain with him.
"Is there anything you didn't tell the police?" his gaze increased in intensity. Anna looked away.
"What are you talking about, dad? I told them everything I knew about the bomb," she huffed, trying to play it off as defensiveness. He shook his head.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply...tell me, has anything strange been happening lately with your dreams?" he asked. Anna's mouth went dry.
*****And tomorrow, there will be some answers! And this is your last chance to submit what you think Scythe Girl's name should be*****
From her other she learned over a day had passed since then. It was a day Anna would never remember. Apparently, she had been conscious, but her mind had been stuck in a loop. She would open her eyes, ask what happened, ask where her father was, and then repeat. Nick had visited, but he was at work. Michael was also in the hospital, although he had managed not to have slammed his head when the explosion happened.
There was also a reporter. The news was calling her a local hero. Which was all well and good, but she didn't feel like a hero. Her mother had left when the officer arrived to ask his questions. Someone needed to pick her father up from the airport. The reporter had just finished when he walked in.
There were dark circles under his eyes, wrinkles in his clothes, and a five o'clock shadow. Yet when she waved at him, he lit up. Winning the lottery could not have made him happier than seeing his daughter recovering.
"Hey dad," she greeted him through the head injury and medicinal haze.
"Anna, if you wanted me to come home early you could have asked," the sarcasm was empty and the words fell flat. Still, she managed to smile.
"Honey, can you wait outside?" he asked his wife, Anna's. The surprise was evident on her mother's face.
"I'll get you some food. You didn't stop for lunch," and then she left. Father and daughter were alone in the room.
"Your mother told me what happened and what you told the police," he paused to look intently at Anna.
"Yea, lucky I got bored," she laughed, haltingly. The lie which had come so easily with everyone else was a strain with him.
"Is there anything you didn't tell the police?" his gaze increased in intensity. Anna looked away.
"What are you talking about, dad? I told them everything I knew about the bomb," she huffed, trying to play it off as defensiveness. He shook his head.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply...tell me, has anything strange been happening lately with your dreams?" he asked. Anna's mouth went dry.
*****And tomorrow, there will be some answers! And this is your last chance to submit what you think Scythe Girl's name should be*****
Saturday, August 13, 2011
9. The Dreamer-Drifting to Consciousness
She was alone in the darkness, in the black. A dream with no dreams and no Scythe Girl. Peace. Relaxing into the heavy absence of light, Anna floated.
"...anna..." a whisper reached her ears. Strange, it was her mother's voice. A current swirled in the black, carrying the still drifting Anna.
"My poor baby..." her mother's voice was louder now. But it was different, and yet somehow familiar. There was always laughter in that voice. Except for when Grandma Ruth had died. Then, the laughter had been replaced with sorrow. It as almost like that now, only tinged with helplessness.
"You're father will be here soon. He left on the first flight out of London," that caring voice continued. Her father had been on a business trip.
"I must be in bad shape if dad's cutting his business trip short," she said to herself. Was the black now a very, very dark grey?
"I'm here, Anna," it was her mother's voice.
"Mom!" Anna said. The darkness continued to lighten, shade by almost indistinguishable shade.
"You're father will be here soon, he left London on the first available flight here," it was what her mother had said earlier, only worded slightly differently. The darkness was now a light gray and Anna could feel phantom fingers entwined with her own.
"I know, you said that earlier...
...mom," the darkness was gone. A hospital room had replaced it, and the first thing her eyes met were her mother's.
Friday, August 12, 2011
About Today...
Right, so I know I'm supposed to post what happens next. However, I moved into my new apartment style dorm. Which resulted in me doing a LOT of running around. Good news? I'm all moved in, I have my textbooks, my job is lined up to start Monday, and I finally have speakers for my computer.
The bad news? I am totally fried. So no new installment in "The Dreamer" today. I'm really sorry.
BUT! I will make it up to you all. In order to compensate I will post Saturday, Sunday, AND Monday in "The Dreamer". And I will start another story next week to run on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Please forgive me for today and keep checking for new posts!
Crystal
The bad news? I am totally fried. So no new installment in "The Dreamer" today. I'm really sorry.
BUT! I will make it up to you all. In order to compensate I will post Saturday, Sunday, AND Monday in "The Dreamer". And I will start another story next week to run on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Please forgive me for today and keep checking for new posts!
Crystal
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
8. The Dreamer-Evacuation
The operator began to ask questions, which Anna answered. Catching the eye of a bouncer, she waved him over. He moved surprisingly fast for someone so large, but that was probably because his bulk was not made out of fat. A point of her finger was all she needed to do to inform him of the situation.
"The police are on their way," she yelled over the music. Eyes wide and nodding, he began to coordinate the evacuation. Sirens replaced the music, blue and red flashed from the outside replaced the strobes. A flood of people pressed against the doors. One person fought against the crowd.
"Anna? Anna!" someone was shouting and pushing their way through the throng. It was Michael, not Nick. Her friend, not her boyfriend.
"Over here!" she waved. His arms found her first and he crushed her in a tight embrace.
"Thank god," he squeezed her tight before letting go.
"What's going on? Someone's talking about a bomb," they were almost out of the club. Just a few more feet. The police were directing them to safety and had begun to work on the scene.
"I found one back..." she turned to point when it happened.
The club exploded in fire. The walls were reduced to splinters, the windows shattered, fire fed on the spraying alcohol. Anna and Michael were flung forward, two dolls which looked broken on the ground outside the club. Anna saw blue and red flashing. And then darkness.
*********Scythe Girl needs a name! Submit your suggestions in the comments!*********
J66BMC8XQVZT
"The police are on their way," she yelled over the music. Eyes wide and nodding, he began to coordinate the evacuation. Sirens replaced the music, blue and red flashed from the outside replaced the strobes. A flood of people pressed against the doors. One person fought against the crowd.
"Anna? Anna!" someone was shouting and pushing their way through the throng. It was Michael, not Nick. Her friend, not her boyfriend.
"Over here!" she waved. His arms found her first and he crushed her in a tight embrace.
"Thank god," he squeezed her tight before letting go.
"What's going on? Someone's talking about a bomb," they were almost out of the club. Just a few more feet. The police were directing them to safety and had begun to work on the scene.
"I found one back..." she turned to point when it happened.
The club exploded in fire. The walls were reduced to splinters, the windows shattered, fire fed on the spraying alcohol. Anna and Michael were flung forward, two dolls which looked broken on the ground outside the club. Anna saw blue and red flashing. And then darkness.
*********Scythe Girl needs a name! Submit your suggestions in the comments!*********
J66BMC8XQVZT
Monday, August 8, 2011
7. The Dreamer-The Club's About to Blow
"Uh-huh," Anna responded. Where was nick? She wanted to talk to someone real, someone physical. But he was at the bar, waiting for drinks. She could see him, talking to the bartender. The Scythe Girl rapped on Anna's knuckles.
"Ow," she grumbled and looked at her fingers.
"There is a bomb here. He's trying to kill you," the girl insisted.
"Go away," Anna begged. She wasn't crazy. She couldn't be crazy. This was merely the result of too much alcohol. The scythe girl folded her arms and glared at Anna. It was incredibly cute instead of intimidating. Anna laughed. The glare deepened.
"Fine. I'll show you. If there's nothing there, I will leave you alone forever," the girl finally stated. Anna weighed her options.
"I'll never see you again? This will all be over?" she asked. The girl didn't say anything, but began to walk through the club. Literally walking through the people on the dance floor. Turning, she beckoned Anna to follow. Sighing, Anna did so. At the back of the club, in the darkest shadows, the girl waited.
"Here," she gestured under a lone, empty chair. Bending down, Anna looked.
There was a bomb.
"Holy shit," Anna stepped back.
"What do I do?" she asked, but the girl was gone. Apparently Anna had to figure this out on her own. The club was filled with people. Innocents who would be killed if the bomb went off. However, there was a device called a cell phone. And a service known as 911. Anna quickly dialed that number.
"911 emergency," a crisp voice answered.
"Hello? I'm at Club Divine and there's a bomb," she prayed there would be enough time to save everyone.
"Ow," she grumbled and looked at her fingers.
"There is a bomb here. He's trying to kill you," the girl insisted.
"Go away," Anna begged. She wasn't crazy. She couldn't be crazy. This was merely the result of too much alcohol. The scythe girl folded her arms and glared at Anna. It was incredibly cute instead of intimidating. Anna laughed. The glare deepened.
"Fine. I'll show you. If there's nothing there, I will leave you alone forever," the girl finally stated. Anna weighed her options.
"I'll never see you again? This will all be over?" she asked. The girl didn't say anything, but began to walk through the club. Literally walking through the people on the dance floor. Turning, she beckoned Anna to follow. Sighing, Anna did so. At the back of the club, in the darkest shadows, the girl waited.
"Here," she gestured under a lone, empty chair. Bending down, Anna looked.
There was a bomb.
"Holy shit," Anna stepped back.
"What do I do?" she asked, but the girl was gone. Apparently Anna had to figure this out on her own. The club was filled with people. Innocents who would be killed if the bomb went off. However, there was a device called a cell phone. And a service known as 911. Anna quickly dialed that number.
"911 emergency," a crisp voice answered.
"Hello? I'm at Club Divine and there's a bomb," she prayed there would be enough time to save everyone.
Friday, August 5, 2011
6. The Dreamer-She Thinks She's Crazy
"What am I looking at?" Nick asked.
"The bruises," Anna insisted.
"Um, nope, no bruises. Are you ok?" he ran his hands through her hair and pulled her close to his chest. The anxiety that had been living in Anna since she had woken up dissipated slightly. It had just been a dream. A vivid and strange one, but a dream nonetheless.
"Yeah, I guess I'm just stressed about work," she mumbled after fumbling for anything that might have caused the dream.
"It's Saturday night and that means it's a no-stress zone. Come on, we have a date," and strange dream anxieties were left behind in Anna's apartment. Dinner came before going to the club, but drinking started at dinner. Lights flashed in an attempt to be in time with the music and no conversation was possible because of said music.
A song ended and both Nick and Anna left the dance floor to sit. Nick shouted something, but he indicated their empty drinks. Anna shook her head, the world was spinning enough as it was. He shrugged and left for the bar. As Anna looked around, she saw Michael.
In a flash, she remembered part of her dream. Michael loved her. Embarrassed, she looked away as warmth flooded her cheeks. But it was just a dream. Telling herself she was being silly, she caught his eye and waved.
"Having fun?" a soft voice asked from beside her. Anna turned and froze. Sitting next to her was the girl from her dream. Except there was no scythe and the girl was sitting on air. Squeezing her eyes shut, Anna rubbed them furiously. When she reopened her eyes, the girl looked amused.
"That's it, I'm crazy and hallucinating," Anna giggled to herself. After all, isn't that what crazy people do?
"Hardly. You're drunk. When the mind is in an altered state dreams become more accessible. Which means you can see me when you're awake and drunk. Or high," the girl responded. Anna merely gaped.
Earlier she had not thought to look at the girl. Being strangled can be rather distracting. Now, she took time to examine the girl. The girl's hair was black and straight, but pulled up into two buns on either side of her head. She wore a pleated skirt that was black and striped with pink. There was also a matching blouse and a bow at the collar of the blouse.
"You look like an anime character," Anna commented as she searched for Nick. She could really use a drink right now.
"I try. You need to be careful. You're in danger," the girl looked around the club warily as Anna felt a chill go through her.
"The bruises," Anna insisted.
"Um, nope, no bruises. Are you ok?" he ran his hands through her hair and pulled her close to his chest. The anxiety that had been living in Anna since she had woken up dissipated slightly. It had just been a dream. A vivid and strange one, but a dream nonetheless.
"Yeah, I guess I'm just stressed about work," she mumbled after fumbling for anything that might have caused the dream.
"It's Saturday night and that means it's a no-stress zone. Come on, we have a date," and strange dream anxieties were left behind in Anna's apartment. Dinner came before going to the club, but drinking started at dinner. Lights flashed in an attempt to be in time with the music and no conversation was possible because of said music.
A song ended and both Nick and Anna left the dance floor to sit. Nick shouted something, but he indicated their empty drinks. Anna shook her head, the world was spinning enough as it was. He shrugged and left for the bar. As Anna looked around, she saw Michael.
In a flash, she remembered part of her dream. Michael loved her. Embarrassed, she looked away as warmth flooded her cheeks. But it was just a dream. Telling herself she was being silly, she caught his eye and waved.
"Having fun?" a soft voice asked from beside her. Anna turned and froze. Sitting next to her was the girl from her dream. Except there was no scythe and the girl was sitting on air. Squeezing her eyes shut, Anna rubbed them furiously. When she reopened her eyes, the girl looked amused.
"That's it, I'm crazy and hallucinating," Anna giggled to herself. After all, isn't that what crazy people do?
"Hardly. You're drunk. When the mind is in an altered state dreams become more accessible. Which means you can see me when you're awake and drunk. Or high," the girl responded. Anna merely gaped.
Earlier she had not thought to look at the girl. Being strangled can be rather distracting. Now, she took time to examine the girl. The girl's hair was black and straight, but pulled up into two buns on either side of her head. She wore a pleated skirt that was black and striped with pink. There was also a matching blouse and a bow at the collar of the blouse.
"You look like an anime character," Anna commented as she searched for Nick. She could really use a drink right now.
"I try. You need to be careful. You're in danger," the girl looked around the club warily as Anna felt a chill go through her.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
5. The Dreamer-Nick's Entrance
There was something she could do until Nick arrived. Something which always made Anna feel better. A shower, change of clothes, hair dryer, hair spray, and a fresh makeup application with lots of concealer had rejuvenated Anna. Before, she had been a sweaty mess. Now, her fiery hair was stylishly tousled, green eye shadow made her emerald eyes blaze, skinny jeans accentuated her limited curvy waist, and a low cut shirt amplified her breasts. Around her neck was draped a scarf.
It took Nick almost an hour to arrive. By the time he arrived, Anna had calmed down. In fact, she had already come up with an entirely rational explanation for everything that had happened. Clearly she had a nightmare. And she had heard it was possible to manifest an injury if you really believed it was happening. Or something like that, perhaps it was only with illnesses? In any case, that must have been what happened while she had been asleep.
"Anna, what is going on?" he greeted when she opened the door in response to his pounding on said door with his fists.
"Come in, have a seat," the gruffness in her voice surprised her. It wasn't intentional, and when she talked it hurt. Not a sharp stabbing pain, but a dull throb which reminded her she had been injured. This did not help her anxiety. She wanted to believe she was making a big deal out of nothing. The alternatives weren't appealing. Nick sat and pulled her into his lap. His large hands wrapped around and pulled her close.
"I missed you," he seemed to purr. Which was odd, considering he wasn't a small man. Not obese, but solid. Probably in another life he would have been a warrior wielding a gigantic war hammer. In this life, he was as dangerous as a kitten.
"Me to," and the kissed.
"What happened?" he demanded when the kiss was over.
"I had a dream where Julie and Michael were talking. Something about you and me and how they like us. Then I was attacked and started choking. And then you called so I woke up. But..." she swallowed and let the scarf fall, exposing her bruises.
It took Nick almost an hour to arrive. By the time he arrived, Anna had calmed down. In fact, she had already come up with an entirely rational explanation for everything that had happened. Clearly she had a nightmare. And she had heard it was possible to manifest an injury if you really believed it was happening. Or something like that, perhaps it was only with illnesses? In any case, that must have been what happened while she had been asleep.
"Anna, what is going on?" he greeted when she opened the door in response to his pounding on said door with his fists.
"Come in, have a seat," the gruffness in her voice surprised her. It wasn't intentional, and when she talked it hurt. Not a sharp stabbing pain, but a dull throb which reminded her she had been injured. This did not help her anxiety. She wanted to believe she was making a big deal out of nothing. The alternatives weren't appealing. Nick sat and pulled her into his lap. His large hands wrapped around and pulled her close.
"I missed you," he seemed to purr. Which was odd, considering he wasn't a small man. Not obese, but solid. Probably in another life he would have been a warrior wielding a gigantic war hammer. In this life, he was as dangerous as a kitten.
"Me to," and the kissed.
"What happened?" he demanded when the kiss was over.
"I had a dream where Julie and Michael were talking. Something about you and me and how they like us. Then I was attacked and started choking. And then you called so I woke up. But..." she swallowed and let the scarf fall, exposing her bruises.
Monday, August 1, 2011
4. The Dreamer-Only a Dream, Right?
"Hey," she said, the dream already fading. Nick talked excitedly, but the dream was more important. Somehow, she knew it was, but she needed to...
"Anna? You listening?" strong words with concern broke her concentration.
"Sorry...I just had this weird dream. I heard Julie and Michael talking..." but the words which had been so clear in her dream were now faded mumbles.
"It was just a dream," he told her, a reassuring cliche. One hand gently rubbed her neck. It was sore and when she touched her neck she winced.
"Yeah. What in the world..." she stood and went to the bathroom. Something didn't feel right. Something with her neck and her dream.
"There was someone strangling me," she could remember that happening in her dream.
"What?" worry, confusion, and anger resonated over the phone.
"In my dream. I..." but she had reached the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Across her neck and mouth was a purple bruise. She stared in shock. Her mind was not computing the information she had received. The dream had come back, solidified and become real in her mind once more.
"Anna?" now he was sounding annoyed.
"Sorry, I...can you come over? Something really weird is going on," she touched the bruise gently. She tried to rub it off. That only hurt, which meant it wasn't makeup.
"Be right there," as they hung up, Anna wondered what she would tell him. What would she tell herself? Perhaps if she slept, the girl with the scythe would appear again. She had helped her and might be able to explain what happened. But so could the strangler. Shaking, she returned to her bed. For now, she would stay awake.
"Anna? You listening?" strong words with concern broke her concentration.
"Sorry...I just had this weird dream. I heard Julie and Michael talking..." but the words which had been so clear in her dream were now faded mumbles.
"It was just a dream," he told her, a reassuring cliche. One hand gently rubbed her neck. It was sore and when she touched her neck she winced.
"Yeah. What in the world..." she stood and went to the bathroom. Something didn't feel right. Something with her neck and her dream.
"There was someone strangling me," she could remember that happening in her dream.
"What?" worry, confusion, and anger resonated over the phone.
"In my dream. I..." but she had reached the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Across her neck and mouth was a purple bruise. She stared in shock. Her mind was not computing the information she had received. The dream had come back, solidified and become real in her mind once more.
"Anna?" now he was sounding annoyed.
"Sorry, I...can you come over? Something really weird is going on," she touched the bruise gently. She tried to rub it off. That only hurt, which meant it wasn't makeup.
"Be right there," as they hung up, Anna wondered what she would tell him. What would she tell herself? Perhaps if she slept, the girl with the scythe would appear again. She had helped her and might be able to explain what happened. But so could the strangler. Shaking, she returned to her bed. For now, she would stay awake.
End of week one, Start of week two
So, I killed my internet last week.
No, really, what had happened was...
My boyfriend and I live in this guest house on his family's property. Since we're only here temporarily, I'm moving into the dorms at Valdosta State in a little under two weeks, we haven't gotten internet at the guest house. Kerry had gotten these wireless, signal booster things and set them up so we would have internet. The only problem was they would overheat. One was outside in a grill, so I moved it out of the grill. It seemed happier and worked better out of the grill. And then it rained. Thus our poor internet thingie was ruined.
Fear not, for I shall continue to post on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Right now I'm huddled outside the door of Kerry's aunt's house, there's a good wi-fi connection here and a power outlet. Not to bad of a place to sit.
Before I get to the next part in "The Dreamer", I want to thank all of you! Especially Brian, you are awesome! All right, time to get writing.
Crystal
Friday, July 29, 2011
3. The Dreamer-The Dream Changes
She was someplace else. In any other situation, she would have been fascinated at the change in scenery. Couches, carpet, walls, Julie and Michael, all were gone. In their place was sky, snow, and dark patches of mountainside. The setting sun glinted off the snow, painting it gold. The sky was rich pink, orange, and deep blue.
The arm around her throat distracted her from the breathtaking view. Her fingernails dug into the flesh around her throat. Her teeth sunk into the palm across her throat. In response, her captor laughed. The flesh around her throat flowed and changed, turning into rubbery bands. A man stepped into her field of vision, a new arm and hand forming as she watched.
The more she looked at him, the less she was able to discern any features about him. His appearance seemed to shift and shimmer, one moment a large African American, the next a stout Scandinavian. Even his clothing was impossible to pin down for more than a moment.
The grip began to tighten. The world was fading and she felt herself growing weaker. He examined his new arm, and experimentally bent the elbow. He seemed to be satisfied. Now his attention returned to Anna, and the draining feeling increased. There was nothing she could do.
"Hey!" a new, different voice shouted. Her captor snapped his head around as he looked for the source of the voice. No longer did he look pleased and triumphant. The grip around Anna loosened.
"Wake up," it was the same girlish voice, but softer and gentler now. Anna didn't hear them, really, but felt them in her mind.
"Show yourself!" her captor snarled. In the distance she heard a song. It was a song she knew.
"This one is not for you," it was the same voice. As the words were spoken, a girl faded into view. She was small with short, straight, black hair. Her eyes were large and red. In her hands was a scythe. The song grew louder. It was something Anna recognized, a song which meant something important.
"Wake up," the girl repeated. Raising the scythe, she rushed in towards the man. Metal rang on metal as the captor met the scythe with a sword. The mountains echoed with the sound of their battle. Anna realized what the song was. It was her ringtone for her cell phone. Someone was calling her.
"Wake. Up!" the girl screamed as she rushed at the captor again. The ringtone drowned out all sounds of battle as Anna reached out into the mountain air...
And gripped her cell phone.
"Hello?" she mumbled into the phone.
"Hi," Nick's voice answered her. Sitting up, she looked around. It was her bedroom.
The arm around her throat distracted her from the breathtaking view. Her fingernails dug into the flesh around her throat. Her teeth sunk into the palm across her throat. In response, her captor laughed. The flesh around her throat flowed and changed, turning into rubbery bands. A man stepped into her field of vision, a new arm and hand forming as she watched.
The more she looked at him, the less she was able to discern any features about him. His appearance seemed to shift and shimmer, one moment a large African American, the next a stout Scandinavian. Even his clothing was impossible to pin down for more than a moment.
The grip began to tighten. The world was fading and she felt herself growing weaker. He examined his new arm, and experimentally bent the elbow. He seemed to be satisfied. Now his attention returned to Anna, and the draining feeling increased. There was nothing she could do.
"Hey!" a new, different voice shouted. Her captor snapped his head around as he looked for the source of the voice. No longer did he look pleased and triumphant. The grip around Anna loosened.
"Wake up," it was the same girlish voice, but softer and gentler now. Anna didn't hear them, really, but felt them in her mind.
"Show yourself!" her captor snarled. In the distance she heard a song. It was a song she knew.
"This one is not for you," it was the same voice. As the words were spoken, a girl faded into view. She was small with short, straight, black hair. Her eyes were large and red. In her hands was a scythe. The song grew louder. It was something Anna recognized, a song which meant something important.
"Wake up," the girl repeated. Raising the scythe, she rushed in towards the man. Metal rang on metal as the captor met the scythe with a sword. The mountains echoed with the sound of their battle. Anna realized what the song was. It was her ringtone for her cell phone. Someone was calling her.
"Wake. Up!" the girl screamed as she rushed at the captor again. The ringtone drowned out all sounds of battle as Anna reached out into the mountain air...
And gripped her cell phone.
"Hello?" she mumbled into the phone.
"Hi," Nick's voice answered her. Sitting up, she looked around. It was her bedroom.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
2. The Dreamer-Unintentional Eavesdropping
Anna was lying on the floor. The other two were sitting on the couch watching "Star Trek". Nodding with approval, Anna sat up and waved at them. She didn't say anything, because talking would imply she would have to explain. And she didn't think she could explain.
"Not this again..." Michael grumbled and leaned back into the couch. Dead center in front of him was the television.
"Um, hi?" she stood. They ignored her. Perhaps she was still dreaming. She waved in front of their eyes. Nothing changed. She snapped her fingers right in their ear. Nothing. She screamed as loud as she could.
"I must not really be here. I'm dreaming," she looked around with wide eyes, waiting for the world to fade and change.
"I love Nick with all my heart and I know you love Anna!" Julie's desperate plea got Michael's attention. And Anna's. She'd had no idea that Michael...but this was a dream. He slowly turned towards her, sitting up as he did so. One hand supported him while the rather ran through his hair.
"Yeah, I do. I love her. And you know what?" he waited for an answer from her, but she only shook her head.
"She's happy with Nick. That's all I could ever hope to ask for. If he breaks her heart I will be right there to help her heal. Even if I'm not the one, I want her to be happy," Julie and Anna stared at Michael. Julie was astounded because the concept of loving like that had never occurred to her. Anna was surprised because she'd had no idea how Michael felt.
Arms wrapped around her throat and mouth. She screamed, but even she could barely hear it.
"You are not supposed to be here," and light blinded her.
Monday, July 25, 2011
1. The Dreamer-Where the Dream Begins
The cool air washed over her. Air conditioning, in her opinion, was the greatest of mankind's inventions. She could live without a computer, cell phone, her car, and more. But she could not live with the feel of cold air blowing across her sweat soaked skin.
"That's it, I knew they were wrong. Activity, fresh air, and sunshine are bad for you," she spoke to the ceiling. It didn't respond. It was midday on Saturday in July. One of her friends had needed help moving, which is what she had been doing all morning. Once afternoon had begun all agreed it was to hot to work anymore.
Which is why she was spread on her bed, feeling the air move over her body. Slowly the cold air was returning her to a state of alertness. As she waited to cool down, her eyelids fell.
There was a door. A wooden door with a brass knob. There was no building and structure to go with the door. It stood freely, flowers circling all sides of the door. She went towards it and realized she was on a hill. The door stood at the top.
A gust of wind carried a whisper of her name.
"Anna...Anna..." she whipped around to see who was saying her name. There was no one, she was alone. The wind came again and this time she knew she heard her name. It was coming from the door. She began to climb the hill.
She was hot and out of breath by the time she reached the door. The sun had beat down on her body, mercilessly as she climbed. The hill had turned into a mountain, but every time she looked back all she could see was a hill.
The door stood there. As she approached, the voices grew.
"Anna? Why are you talking about her?" she recognized that voice. Julie, a friend of her boyfriend.
"She is Nick's girlfriend. Kind of hard to talk about Nick without mentioning her," this voice belong to Michael, her boyfriend's best friend.
"I just hate her," Julie said. Anna wondered why she was dreaming something like this. Julie's jealousy of Anna and George was well known. She placed a hand on the doorknob. A golden glow spread from the doorknob and around the door. She tried to let go, but couldn't. The light grew and overwhelmed everything else.
When the light faded, she looked around. Her clothes were the same sweat soaked ones she had fallen asleep in. But she wasn't where she had fallen asleep. She knew this living room. It was Julie's living room.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
How This Works
Hi! I'm 27 and live in central Georgia. Technically, I'm a student at Valdosta State University. But I have health issues which sometimes get in the way. Seizures. Anyways, because of them and other life happenings (don't start a semester and then decide to file for divorce), I am still plodding along towards my four year degree. Other than school, I do crafts. Crochet, knitting, cross stitching, card making, and I recently added nalbinding to this list.
And I write.
Currently I have completed two novels and working on a third. My writing seems to bounce from genre to genre, horror one day and romance the next. Words and words are constantly at the forefront of my mind, pressing against my fingers in a frenzy to escape my body and be recorded.
That's only some days though. Most days I slam against the keyboard and something coherent comes out. Which brings me to this blog. I will post something new on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Each post will be the next part in a story. The story will unfold as I write it, with only minimal spelling and grammatical checks.
Oh yeah, as I write I will be reading any comments left. I may or may not take what you say under advisement, but you are the reader. If it doesn't make sense, let me know. I may not be able to go back and edit something, but I can sure clear up confusion in the next posting!
I may end up with multiple stories. If so, don't panic. Each post will clearly be labeled as to which story it belongs to. Thank you for coming to my little section of the interwebs, I hope it was a worthwhile visit.
Crystal
And I write.
Currently I have completed two novels and working on a third. My writing seems to bounce from genre to genre, horror one day and romance the next. Words and words are constantly at the forefront of my mind, pressing against my fingers in a frenzy to escape my body and be recorded.
That's only some days though. Most days I slam against the keyboard and something coherent comes out. Which brings me to this blog. I will post something new on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Each post will be the next part in a story. The story will unfold as I write it, with only minimal spelling and grammatical checks.
Oh yeah, as I write I will be reading any comments left. I may or may not take what you say under advisement, but you are the reader. If it doesn't make sense, let me know. I may not be able to go back and edit something, but I can sure clear up confusion in the next posting!
I may end up with multiple stories. If so, don't panic. Each post will clearly be labeled as to which story it belongs to. Thank you for coming to my little section of the interwebs, I hope it was a worthwhile visit.
Crystal
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