Monday, March 12, 2012

Hope Falls & Spirits Die

Silence never lingered
Night after night,
The sky closed off
Dimming eternal light,
The ground trembled
Beneath our feet,
The end coming near
Life and death shall meet,
Water ran red
The innocent first fell,
The good went to Heaven
Evil sent to Hell,
Clouds never rained
Ash fell like snow,
Left defenseless and scared
We lost hopes glow,
Our friends and our family
Were Utopians all along,
It showed we were weak
It proved they were strong,
Soldiers poured in from the ocean
They marched across the beach,
In a short amount of time
Their victory came within reach,
Their blood coats symbolized
The fear they instilled,
The Utopians shattered spirits
They broke the strong willed,
They rounded people up
They shot them one by one,
The monsters ran the world
Then arose Malum's son,
The boy a city came to know
A world came to love,
The clouds began to part
Rays of light shown above,
No army could fight a nation
But the boy would make a stand,
On his shoulders he held hope
Our spirits in his hand,
The war seemed lost
A weary end in sight,
Not even the boy from Malum
Could ever win this fight,
And yet he stood strong
He fought to the end,
In his final moments
It was the message he would send,
He became a symbol
One the world needed to see,
Stop the violence amongst each other
Let each other be free,
Destinies are not written
There's no predetermined end,
How the war will finish
Only the legends will lend,
If the Utopians win
We'd all be at peace,
However if they failed
Would the violence ever cease,
The Utopians have a vision
A better world is what they seek,
As for us now
We prey on the meek,
Only one thing became clear
At the end of our beaten path,
The losers will suffer
And they'll face eternal wrath.

Saturday, March 3, 2012

Carl's Life: Episode 1

The alarm goes off. Carl wakes up. Carl takes a shower. Carl gets dressed. Carl goes to work. Carl goes home. Carl eats dinner. Carl watches TV. Carl goes to bed. This is the life of Carl.

Carl Amet is the average American male. He has a wife and two kids, a boy and a girl. He has an average house, and an average car. He goes to a job he hates, to work for a power hungry man he can't stand. When he wakes up, there's no time to take solace. When he goes to sleep, there's no time for reflection. Carl lives the American dream, with an all-American life. And he couldn't be any more miserable.

Carl's eyelids lifted. His pupils contracted from the sunlight pouring into the bedroom. He took in a deep calming breath of fresh air and rolled over onto his back. Staring up at the ceiling, comfort and calm flushed through his body. Something was wrong. Carl's head shot right. The alarm clock on the nightstand beside the bed kept blinking 12:00am. Carl threw the covers off himself and leaped out of bed. He went to the dresser and grabbed his watch. The arms on the face were lifeless. He held it to his ear, but the tiny ticking noise ceased. He ran to the desk and flipped the computer monitor on. A blank blue screen greeted him. He moved the mouse and pounded buttons, but the blue screen remained frozen. "You've got to be kidding me."

Bridgette stirred awake. "What's wrong," she groggily asked.

"The alarm never went off. I'm late for work," Carl panicked as he grabbed a handful of clothes and tossed them into the bathroom. Bridgette looked at the blinking clock, "the power must have gone out."

"Thanks detective," Carl shot back as he slammed the bathroom door behind him.

Carl had a meeting later in the day that he couldn't miss. Perhaps if he went into work at lunch and claimed a half day, he'd be in the clear. Hopping into the shower, he grabbed the soap and lathered it up in his hands. With plenty of suds, he went to rub the soap across his chest but dropped it. The bar slid around the tub. Carl lifted his leg up as he turned to grab it, but the soap slid under his foot. Putting his weight down, Carl slipped. He reached out and grabbed at anything he could. He caught the faucet on his way down, and turned it all the way up. Scalding hot water came raining down, steam filling the bathroom. Letting out a growl with a grimace, he held a hand above his head, trying to shield his face from the boiling water as he turned it down. Succeeding in cooling the water, soap dripped down off his fingers shielding his face and hit him in the eye.

He went to his back, shrieking at his burning, stinging eyes. He kicked his feet while rubbing away at his face. His foot hit the faucet and the handle turned all the way down to cold. Freezing water came down. Carl's shrieks turned to full on screaming and cursing. He reached out and slammed the faucet closed, turning the water off.

Fully dressed, Carl went into the den and pulled his cell phone off the charger. Dead. "How," he asked himself. He pulled at the charger cable that disappeared behind the end table. Lifting the cord up with ease, it was never plugged in.

Grabbing his car keys, he went for the car. "The clock in there will work." Stepping outside and off the porch, immediately he felt the squish beneath his feet, almost instantaneously followed by a rank smell. "No. No. Who's dog's is this," he yelled with a foot raised. "For the love of......Why?"

Pouting, he open the car door and sat down, keeping his feet outside. He turned the ignition and the car started right up. "Finally....something worked." Carl found a silver lining to hook onto and looked at the clock. It was only 7:30am. Work starts at 8am. With only a twenty minute drive ahead of him, he'd be at work in plenty of time. "Alright," he shook his head with a smile, almost chuckling at the morning he'd been having.

After going to the house and changing his shoes, he went back to the car whistling a tune. "What a lovely day," he thought. A warm Californian summer's day. Not the slightest of breezes. The air was somewhat humid but very comfortable. The birds were chirping. A lot of birds. An unusual amount of birds. Looking up, the tree in his front yard was filled with birds. The phone lines leading to the house were lined with birds. "Hmmm," Carl suspiciously got into the car and shut the door as hundreds of eyes stared down from above. The car left on from before was cooled from the A/C running, but it had an odd smell coming through the vents.

Rolling the window down to let the interior air out, swarms of crows cawed while wrestling around on the roof. With an eyebrow raised, he put the car in reverse and began to back out of the drive. As Carl
moved down the drive, smoke started lifting from beneath the hood. A trail of fur and red drops followed him from his parking spot. "What the?" He turned the car off and popped the hood. Climbing out, the chirping and cawing birds from above grew restless. A wretched foul odor worsened as he approached the hood. Carl chocked on the stink, covering his mouth and nose with his arm. He hit the latch on the hood and popped it open, revealing the neighbors dead cat, caught sleeping on the manifold. "Oh my- he coughed, again and again. "This isn't happening." With little time to spare, he grabbed the cat, chucked it into the neighbors yard, slammed the hood down, and bolted. He sped out the drive, peeled out the tires, and took off down the road.    



Monday, February 20, 2012

#3 The Legend Begins: "The Chosen"

A cold chill ran through the vents. Mary tightened her arms around her baby. Looking down at his peaceful sleeping face, a slight smile crossed her lips, but soon faded. While the silent air throughout the room was bliss, a disturbing aura seemed to surround the child's head.

"Is everything alright," a Nurse entered. Mary nodded with a fraudulent expression happiness.

"No you're not," the nurse said. Mary watched as the nurse approached. A tall skinny woman, wearing an angry scowl as she approached. "Neither of you are," she said. Mary went to speak but found her voice frozen and stuck inside her throat.

"The child is not yours to keep," the nurse said. Mary gazed at the woman with bewildered eyes. Hairs began to stand on edge. "He has a job to do, and he can't have you interfering."

Mary looked down at the child still resting peacefully in her arms, and knew everything the nurse was saying was true. She couldn't keep the baby. He was too important.

The nurse reached out her arms. "Give him to me. I'll set him on the path." Mary hesitated. She wished there were more time. Another moment she could spend with him. She hadn't even given him a name.

Relenting, she lifted the child up and set him in the nurse's arms. "It's the only way." The monitor keeping watch of Mary's vitals flickered. Hairline cracks began to slowly draw across the ceiling. The floor trembled. The walls quivered. "It's the only way," the nurse said again.

The shadows cast throughout the room began to dance. Soon, each shadow converged and fumed like flames. A raging fire surrounded them. Its roars crackled. "It's the only way."

Mary sat up in bed, wide eyed and terrified. Her mouth hung open, trying to let out shrieks, but nothing would come.

The nurse's white uniform turned into a darkened ashy black. Veins shown through her pale ghostly arms. Her finger nails turned to claws. Her eyes began glowing red. "Et spiritus mori spes cadit," the nurse's voice spoke in an echoing monotone. "Et spiritus mori spes cadit."

The demonic figure opened the window. A breeze wafted in, stoking the shadowy flames. "Et spiritus mori spes cadit." The nurse held the baby out the window. "Hope falls and spirits die."

"Is everything alright," the nurse said again. Mary looked down at her child, still resting peacefully in her arms. "Yes," Mary's voice quivered. "We're fine."


FOLLOW THE LEGEND
  
www.bookbuzzr.com

Monday, February 13, 2012

#2 The Legend Begins: "The Burden"

Mary rocked herself in the fetal position on her bed. The lights were out, and the sun had long since set. Eighteen years old, living alone in her dingy apartment, pregnant. The news had hit an hour ago, and the revelation kept stewing in her head.

The child's father left. Panic stricken, he ran off, wanting nothing to do with Mary and her burden. Such a typical attitude in downtown Malum.

Staring off into nowhere, Mary continued to rock. Her eyes wide. Her lips slightly open. Her black hair left in a tangled mess. She breathed heavy, puffing her cheeks, beginning to spit through clenched teeth. The shadows cast amongst the room began to dance. Shapes swayed and transformed. Darkness melded together, becoming one.

An arm crept up the wall. Mary gawked, her heart racing. Another arm swayed along the wall. A head emerged from the floor. Two glowing red eyes opened and pierced thru Mary's soul. She stopped her rocking. Goosebumps ran up and down her skin, hairs standing on end. She pressed her back up against the wall, pushing into it like it was her only escape.

The head rose further still. A gaping mouth with fangs, inhuman and grotesque, began wailing an ear splitting scream. Mary slapped both hands against her ears and squeezed them tight, trying to block out the sound. But there was no escape. The sound was coming within her own head.

Mary jumped out of bed. The demon haunting her disappeared, but the scream continued to torture her. She ran to the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind her. When the bang of the door hit, the screaming stopped. She backed away slowly, trembling.

Passing the mirror on her right, she spooked herself out of the corner of her eye. Her heart skipping a beat, she shuttered before realizing her reflection. With only the moon as lighting, Mary looked at herself and saw all she needed to see. Two blackened dreary eyes, trembling lips, and an unkempt mess of once beautiful hair.

Mary was so pretty, but the burden life set upon her cast an ugly shadow. Lost in herself for a moment, the misery she constantly felt began to reflect in the mirror. Taking a pair of scissors lying on the counter, she grabbed a handful of hair and began hacking away. Chunks at a time, hair fell to the floor. Hasty, careless, and in the dark, she snipped away, cutting her fingers and stabbing her head. Tears ran from her cheeks. Blood ran from her forehead.

When she was done, Mary's beauty left her. Her hair was now a short uneven mess. Her eyes enraged and her lips fuming. Destiny had taken its course, and Mary suffered because of it. She clenched her hand and punched the mirror. Her one ugly reflection broke into a hundred.

This short story is a prequel to my eBook "A Hero's Rise" (PS: The book isn't as depressing as this)

   

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

#1 The Legend Begins: "Malum City"


A steady rain tapped against the glass. Distant police sirens forewarned danger. Two pops of gunshots and a woman's scream. The nightly sounds of Malum's reign echoed in full force.

A little girl, only six years old, lied awake in her bed. The other orphans slept through the constant sound of the city. Mary however, could never get used to it.

Watching the drops of rain slide down her window, she was mesmerized by their individual casting of reflected light from the lamppost in the alley. Each drop carried with it a soft glowing orange hue. Even at six, Mary's young mind wondered how such beauty could fall in a place like this.

Breaking a momentary thought of peace, the trembling pleas of a man begging for his life grew louder. Puddles sloshed and beating footsteps echoed amongst tightly placed buildings. Mary sat up. Living in the orphanage the longest had its perks. She got a bed by the window. A front row seat to Malum's horrors.

The pleading man came running into view. While looking back, he tripped over a pile of garbage and smacked his chin on the asphalt. Temporarily dazed, he rolled over on his back. Shrouded in darkness, Mary couldn't make out his face, but knew the terror that must be fleeting his eyes.

Two hunters emerged from the shadows. Standing over their prey, they began kicking. Their victim shrieked in pain, feeding their hungered lust for harm, bloodshed, and death. The fear exuding from panicked tears fueled a one way trip toward humanity's ultimate failure.

Mary's heart quickened and her throat tightened. If only a ray of hope could shine in such dire times. A final dying plea ended with a gunshot that woke the entire orphanage. The harbingers of death fled off into the depths of darkness. A body lied dead in a back alley, unceremoniously bleeding into a sewer drain.

The lights in the bedroom went on, and the scene outside disappeared, leaving Mary a reflection of herself.




This little side story is a bit of a prequel to my eBook, "A Hero's Rise." I hope you enjoyed it.

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Heroes and Villains: A Match Made in Heaven

In any medium, (movies, books, video games) the relationship between a hero and villain can be the most beautiful and complex connection between any two characters.

A well told romance between two characters is about a journey. The journey of how two people come together no matter how insurmountable the odds. Whether they live happily ever after or are separated through tragedy, in the end it all boils down to love. An unexplainable human emotion, love doesn't need a reason to join two people together. It can just happen anywhere, at anytime, between anyone.

The bond between a hero and a villain is more complex. Aside from the mindless summer blockbusters where good people are inherently good and bad people are inherently bad, their relationship is more tangible and real. Both are defined by the tragedies they suffer. The weak minded and downtrodden succumb to their past and seek to rectify it by destroying what pains them. The strong-willed and brave view their past as a learning experience, seeking to solve the problem by protecting others from the same fate.

While suffering differently, a hero will always understand what the villain is going through. Villains are typically jaded and one sided in their thoughts, but a hero can always sympathized. Often times, a hero wishes he could hide the pain by hurting the ones who caused it.

It's this tragic bond between such polar opposites that drive a story beautifully. One side fights for good. One side fights for evil. And in between them, inside each, is an inner struggle that both sides share.

If you've been following me for a while, you probably know by now how passionate I am about heroes and villains. I love everything about them. What they stand for. What they believe in. How they connect. How they overcome obstacles. It's such a complex relationship that so few truly understand. Good vs Bad. Dark vs Light. That's not what it's about at all. There's something more to it than that. There's a reason they fight. A legitimate reason than only those two can understand.

If you share in my passion and are looking for the type of tale I've described, check out my eBook "A Hero's Rise" It's the story of two people sharing one path, with two different endings. Whoever travels further down their road, will decide our fate.

amazon.com/ A Hero's Rise


Saturday, February 4, 2012

So Nice it's Weird

So the other day I'm sitting at Mcdonald's eating breakfast. I just finished my sandwich, so I got my notebook out and began writing down some ideas for my next book while enjoying my morning cup of coffee. Sitting in the corner a little ways down from me was this pretty mean looking dude. Not a person I'd mess with. This guy was just sitting on his laptop, minding his own business when another guy came in and walked up to him. "Can I ask you about your wi-fi," he said.

Needless to say, I listened in on the conversation. The guy on the laptop clearly wanted to be left alone, and here was this dude interfering with the man's breakfast, asking questions about his wi-fi.
"Is the wi-fi free?"
"How do you connect to it?"
"So I just have to do that?"
"Alright, Thanks."

Finally finished barraging the man with questions, he walked up to me and said, "Hey man, I have a paper to write to," giving me a pat on the shoulder and big smile. Not being a particularly social person myself, I simply nodded and returned the smile with a fake laugh.

Leaving us both alone to go back to our work, I could hear the conversation he was having with the cashiers as he gave his order. "I would like a (insert fancy coffee) with whip cream. And can you put that medium into a large cup and put lots of whip cream in it. I like lots of whip cream."

All I can think throughout this guys entire presence that morning, was how weird this person was. I just wanted him to be quiet and leave everyone alone. That's what most of the people in that Mcdonalds wanted. "Just shut up already."

The next day I passed by that Mcdonalds and I thought about that guy again, and when I did I realized, there is something wrong with us. That was such a lovely and wonderful person, and I wanted him to leave me alone. And for what? So I can have a cup of coffee while I miserably sulked to myself because I had to be at work in an hour. I wish I could be that upbeat and happy, because life most certainly wasn't weighting that guy down.  

Friday, February 3, 2012

Breaking The Mold

I'm excited. This past week I released my debut eBook, "A Hero's Rise." It has its flaws I'm sure, without professional editing, but the spirit and tale I wanted to portray is all there. A city that comes to life. A villain you can believe in as a truly bad human being. And of course a hero.

If you read my last post, you know about my ten year old alter ego and superhero 'Coolkid.' Well, 13 years later, Coolkid is back and brought to life for all to see. From my imagination as a kid, to my imagination now, Coolkid has certainly come a long way. This is my story, about my story.

As a little kid I loved heroes. Whether with superpowers or regular people with nothing but a handgun and two fists, heroes amazed me. And so came Coolkid, a ten year old crime-fighter who loved to trash talk, dance, and fight his way through hordes of enemies. Without a care in the world and his favorite Hawaiian shirt, Coolkid was unstoppable.

Fortunately for you and me, I wasn't writing books when I was ten, and as I matured, so did Coolkid. (THANK GOD) Stuck in my memory like an imaginary brother, Coolkid shared in the trouble of being a teenager. The happy-go-lucky, dancing Coolkid lost a spring in his step, becoming more of a loner striving for attention. I was always a bit mature for my age, despising teenage hijinks, therefor Coolkid too saw past such immature behavior.

It wasn't until times of my own frustration did Coolkid ultimately take shape. Using my character as an outlet for anger, Coolkid became a rage fueled machine. That is when I could see a story to tell. A Hero's Rise is only the beginning of Coolkid's journey. Starting out as a naive, awkward teenager, only a few glimpses are shown as to what Coolkid will eventually become. And what he becomes, in my opinion, is one of the most sympathetic and greatest hero's ever told.

I love Coolkid, making it all the harder to watch my friend, brother, and hero suffer so greatly.

You can check out the kindle version of my book here: amazon.com/a hero's rise


Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Finding A Dream

I'm now a fifth year college senior. After two years of civil engineering and three years of accounting, I'm one more semester away from graduating. And you know what I've learned after all these years? I hate everything. I hate all of it. Engineering wasted two years of my life. Accounting has been much more tolerable, but is that a career goal?  Should I be happy with a job I can tolerate?

Three years into my college career, I needed to figure things out. I needed to "find myself," so to speak. What can I do? What am I good at? Apparently the answer has been there all along, right in front of my face. In elementary school, I used to write short stories and read them to the class. When I was ten, I imagined myself a movie star, playing the role of the epic crime fighting superhero, 'Coolkid.'

As I got older, my imagination matured, but it was still there. For whatever reason, maybe because living in fantasy is so much more fun than reality, I kept on creating characters. I gave them lives, personalities, traits. What is an eighteen year old doing imagining up an espionage assassin? What a loser. But three years into college it hit me. I could never be a movie star, but I could sure as hell write a book.

After a few failed attempts to get the juices flowing, it finally happened. Chapter after chapter raced through my mind. I spent an entire summer perfecting my work, and in that time I realized; this is what I want to do. I want to be a writer. For years characters have been manifesting in my head, and now I can share these imaginary friends of mine with the world.

On January 30, 2012, my self-published eBook, "A Hero's Rise,"  hit iTunes. Why am I telling you this story. Not so you'll be happy for me and buy my book. I had to write this article because there are loads of people like me, searching for a path to happiness. And while I have a long way to go before I can consider myself a writer, I know one thing. I will never give up. Writing is my passion. One day, I might be sitting in some office getting yelled at by some balding hack, but that won't stop me from accomplishing my goal. I'll be writing books till the day I die, whether I sell millions or handfuls.

My message to you is this: You may not be able to live your dream, but never settle for anything less than happiness.

This has been my first ever blog. I hope you enjoyed it. Constructive feedback would be much appreciated. If you have any questions I promise to answer them. And if you find yourself in my shoes, lost and confused, let me know. I'd love to help!