#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

  

#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)

   

#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.

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

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.  

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