Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Outcasts Chapter 1

The wind blew through the moonlit night. I walked quickly along the shadow trees, making my careful way towards what would soon be my home. I clambered up the dark hill, panting as I came to the top. I stopped and surveyed the world around me. The moon shed little light, but it was enough all the same for me to see. I watched the distance houses as the candle lights slowly diminished and fell into sleeping darkness. The only noise was of the wind as it rustled the autumn leaves. I brushed a colorful leaf from off my shoulder, watching as it was carried away by the wind.
With a low sigh I turned around, facing the heap of stones that stood in the circle of trees. These were the Carrier’s Stones, said to have been piled there by the ancient people of our land as a symbol of peace and harmony. Now, it was only a sign of the hatred of the people in the villages below. There was rumor that many of society's outcasts lived in these rocks. Since I was discovered, I had been moving quietly from village to village, but my identity seemed to be well known in all the villages of Skirum, leaving me to run when I was seen by many of the village people, who pursued me with swords and axes.
Pushing the vast memories from my mind, I walked carefully towards the Carrier’s Stones. I was alert, aware that if the rumors were true, that I could be in grave danger, and yet I did not fear the creatures that lived here. I was one of them now, and I didn’t fear that they wouldn’t be able to tell. It was easy to tell who the Barafu’s were, given our skin was marked with the symbol of our kind. I walked tentatively forwards, ever aware of the silence that hung in the moving air.
I heard nothing as I approached the stone, searching the darkness with my eyes. I saw nothing in the shadows of the rock, yet I had a feeling that more that one pair of eyes was watching me. I turned slowly in a circle, searching the ghostly trees for signs. A branch on a tall, red leafed tree looked weighted down compared to the companion branches. I stared intensely at the spot, knowing someone was there, but choosing to ignore them. I wasn’t there to cause a fight, I was there to find shelter, and the one they called Bayfire. I continued my observations, looking for signs of others, but I saw none. I turned back towards the stones and suddenly, the silhouette of a man stood on the top rock. The moon stood behind him, casting an almost heavenly glow about him. He looked down at me, and I looked carefully up at him.
I heard the sound even before the man was on top of me. I dodged left and watched as the giant of a man landed where I had been standing. He turned and looked at me with wry yellow eyes that reflected in the moon’s light. The lycanthrope’s eyes pierced me to the bone, but I did not move, I did not surrender as he tried to make me think. I knew the power of creatures like him, I knew how to avoid their influence. I blinked and the man was suddenly in front of me. His massive hands grabbed my arms and heaved me into the air. His muscles rippled throughout his body, but I didn’t look away from his eyes. I didn’t dare look away from his eyes because I knew the consequences. He held me in the air as if I was a rag doll, letting me dangle freely feet from the ground. I didn’t fight, didn’t take my eyes of him.
“Now now now, what do we have here here here?” A high pitched voice asked from below me.
With a low growl, the man tossed me to the ground. My eyes never left his wry eyes as I fell onto my back on the ground. The man stalked toward me, growling low and dangerous. Standing at his feet, half hunched over, was a small man, who smiled wickedly at me with sharp pointed teeth. I scooted backwards, trying to get out from under the man’s feet as he moved closer. I hit a curved rock, feeling it press against my back, preventing me from moving further. I kept my eyes on the man, my own challenge vibrating towards him.
“Tride,” a deep voice said. The man stopped where he was, a foot from me, growling down at me like the part creature he was. I didn’t take my eyes off of his. I saw the shadow moving out of the corner of my eye and then the voice spoke again: “You know where you tread?”
“Yes,” I returned quietly, too quietly for any human to hear, but these men weren’t all human.
“Why are you here?”
“I seek Bayfire,” I said, my voice hardly a whisper.
“You you you look for Bayfire Bayfire Bayfire?” The high pitched voice came from the half man who half hopped, half walked towards me. I knew instantly what he was, an Iman. Half human, half Imp, a powerful creature.
“I am he,” the man said, coming closer. I watched the shadow move towards me. He put an arm on his friend, and Tride looked away. Freed from his yellow eyes, I turned towards the shadow. He was a muscular man, his build was smaller than the lycanthrope that stood next to him, but still twice the size of the Iman that stood close to me. I glared into the Iman’s eyes. We were natural enemies, Imans and Barafus. Imans commanded the power of fire, and Barafus the power of ice.
“Who are you?” Bayfire asked.
“That is of no matter.”
“Why do you come here?”
“I seek shelter with you.”
“Why? What are you that you can’t find shelter anywhere else?” I didn’t answer, I just reached my bare hand up towards Bayfire, showing him my palm and the mark of my people that was on it. It was a diamond, in the center, a four pointed star with four squiggly lines coming from the star. Bayfire studied my hand in silence, bending to see it closer. And then, he straightened.
“I see. Where are your people?” Bayfire asked. I closed my fist and pulled my hand back into me, hoping the awful Iman had not seen. Life was miserable enough, I didn’t need to add the fiery hatred of that creature.
“I know not, it has been many, many winters since I have seen them,” I replied watching Bayfire carefully. His eyes were a dimmer yellow than Tride’s, but they were the eyes of a lycanthrope all the same. Lycanthropes were not known for their loyalty to outsiders, especially to those that could pose a threat. They were most likely to kill before asking questions, which left me to watch them more carefully than that clumsy Iman. A look was exchanged between the lycanthropes and it was as if they were making a silent agreement. I felt the cold boiling inside me, ready to be used if an attack came. A nod was shared between the two lycanthropes and then Bayfire turned to me.
“If you agree to be part of our pack, then we welcome your stay,” Bayfire said, extending a powerful hand to me. I watched his face in the moonlight for signs of malevolence, but there were none. I took the lycanthrope’s hand, and with no effort from my side, he lifted me to my feet. Standing on my feet, inches from the tall and mighty lycanthrope, I looked at the three creatures that stood in front of me. Bayfire was looking at me with the same search for malevolence that I had shown him. Tride stared at me sharply from over Bayfire’s shoulder, but looked away when he matched my eyes. The Iman had hopped to Bayfire’s side, looking up at him with anger and astonishment.
“No no no! The the the Barafu cannot stay stay stay! Tricky tricky tricky her is is is. Her her her be slippery slippery slippery! No no no trust the icy beast beast beast!”
“Quiet HalfSmoke,” Bayfire said firmly, not looking at the half sized man that was at his side, glaring from me to Bayfire.
“No no no! I I I not stay if her be here here here!”
“You are welcome to fend on your own.” The Iman fell quiet immediately. He looked up at Bayfire with contempt and then turned with burning, blazing glare on me. I returned his harsh look with an icy challenge of my own.
“If you are to stay, we must know what to call you,” Bayfire said, as if nothing had been said.
“Patara,” I said quietly.
“We welcome you, Patara.”

Sunday, December 16, 2012

Tidbit: THE WIND


The howling wind ravished past me, blowing my blond hair back, my hood flying off my head. I pulled my hood on again with frozen fingers before returning my numb hand to my jacket pocket. I forced my frozen body on, every muscle on the brink of collapse. White mist met my every breath, I was beyond the point of feeling. All I knew was the lingering cold, that with bony fingers, grasped me to the bone.
There was no snow, no flurries, no excuse for the blistering cold that surrounded me. There was just the dark, cloudy sky and the ghostly wind that howled in laughter at my shivering form. Another gust, strong and deep, hit me like a brick wall. I stopped and shivered in the cold as the wind blew and my hood flew again. And even after the howling had stopped to take a breath, I couldn't move. I remained, to forever be a frozen form standing in the dark gloom of morning. The form of a shivering girl who couldn't find warmth.
The wind laughed at me again, laughed long and hard and sharp at me. With head bowed, I took the mockery of the grand element. Why did he taunt me so? Was I, a poor, shivering, lonely girl, his only prey? Or did he pick me specifically to taunt with his cold laughter? The wind blew again, and I could no longer take his taunting. I forced my feet to move, had the faint sensation of my feet touching ground, my surroundings snailing past me. I kept my eyes on the ground, not daring to face the wind full on. He laughed, his breath playing with my hair, sending a frozen shiver down my already frozen spine. And yet I pressed on, hoping by some miracle to escape the wind.
The wind calmed his voice and finally, I looked up. In the distance there was a light. A fire in the window, a window in a house that I knew.
Home.

Saturday, August 25, 2012

Exerpt from Hidden Secrets:


Frustrated with myself, I turned towards the window and stared out at the sky. It would be dusk in another hour or two. The sky was a beautiful blue with wispy clouds. The sky had always been my escape when I had no where else to go. I could look at the sky, ponder, loose myself, try to forget or even remember. The sky was my freedom when I had none. The key to my cage. My hope when I was hopeless. I relied on the sky to be my escape, my allie when I need one. The sky saw the tears I used to cry, saw the void in my soul. I began loosing myself in the sky, pondering what to do about Piper. Keep her with me or toss her out or maybe find her someplace else to go. In my daze, I heard a small, almost invisible voice, telling me to keep her with me. I battled inside me, giving myself the pros and cons of keeping her. When I came out of my daze, it was already seven-thirty, the sky was beginning to get dark and I had come to a decision.

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Cassey Tyler Prologue


I sprinted down the deserted road. Everything was silent except for the sound of my running feet. I knew I had a slim chance of escaping, but I had to try. I bolted around the corner of a building and into a thin alley way. Jason and his men were right behind me.
“Give it up girl! You'll never get away!” Jason yelled behind me. I knew he was right, but I kept running.
I felt the adrenaline racing through my body. This was one of those times. One of those life or death situations. My heart beat fast from running, and fear. I had to escape. Just get beyond the alley. That was just how far I had to go. A mire fifty feet. I was almost to the end of the alley way, and so close to freedom, but I never made it to the street. Two men suddenly stepped out of the shadows standing in front of me. I tried to run in between them, but their strong arms stopped me and held me tight as I struggled to get free. I was strong for my age, but I was no match for two full grown men. The men turned me around until I faced Jason. He had stopped running not far away and was walking towards me now. An annoyed expression on his face.
“Where is it?” Jason demanded. He was referring to the tape recorder I had used to record information from one of his top secret meetings. I kept my mouth shut. I wasn't going to tell him that I had thrown it into a bush as I had run past.
“Search her,” Jason commanded. His goons obeyed him without question. The men that were holding me pushed me to the ground on my stomach. I cringed as my cheek touched the cold, wet, slimy ground. Someone began patting me down. Pulling my jacket off roughly and rifling through my loose clothes. It didn't take them long to find the gun on my hip and the earpiece in my ear that connected me to Base. I was unarmed quickly and the search continued. My pockets were emptied of the few possessions I stored in them. Even my sneakers were searched. I thrashed around, kicking someone, but it didn't seem to help me. Someone was holding my arms out to either side and someone else had my legs pinned down. The only thing I could do was scream.
I thought for a moment. Scream and maybe be killed. Be quiet, hope Lizabell notices I'm in trouble, and then maybe die if she doesn't. I had no real choice, as usual. I decided against screaming and put all my faith, and my life, in Lizabell. I thrashed around again, waiting to see what Jason and his goons would do to me next.
“Well?” Jason asked impatiently.
“She was heavily armed for a punk...but no tape,” one of his men replied.
“Where is it girl?!” Jason demanded angrily. It was then that I realized Jason didn't recognize me. My hidden identity was the only thing that was keeping me from being taken by the spies, and most likely tortured to death. If Jason never recognized me I would at least die a quick death.
The men holding me let me go. I quickly scrambled onto my hands and knees. I was about to get onto my feet when a rough hand grabbed the front of my dirty shirt. The hand pulled up and made me stand on my knees with my head pointed towards the person holding me. Despite the hand that was just under my chin I attempted to look down. I couldn't risk Jason finding out who I was. Another hand roughly jerked my head up. I quickly looked up and then sideways. The same rough hand grabbed me under my chin and forced me to look at Jason.
I met the cruel brown eyes and sharp features of Jason. Jason Ritters was a man in his late thirties. He was muscular and stood at six feet tall. He was one of the best spies in the world, and he was my enemy. He was looking at me with annoyance painted on his face. Our eyes locked. The cruel fire behind Jason's eyes burned bright and then cooled with pleasure. The moment I realized Jason recognized me I tried to jerk my head away from his hand, but he held my face still. His hand let go of my shirt, but held my chin.
“Well, well, well. Look who I found,” Jason said pleasantly.
I pulled away from Jason and stumbled back onto my hands and knees. I had to escape. My life was depending on it, especially now that Jason knew who I was. I jumped to my feet and turned, attempting to bolt for the end of the alley way. It was so close, but yet so far. I made it three steps closer to freedom when I was again grabbed by two of Jason's goons. They held me tightly as I struggled for my life. The men held me with ease and turned me around. Holding my arms they kept me restrained. Jason came closer until his face was only an inch from mine. He smiled and then began walking around me and his goons.
“I'm hurt Jocelyn,” Jason started. “I'm hurt you would try to hide your beautiful face from me.”
His voice was smooth, with fake sorrow pounded into it. I heard the soft, squishy footsteps as Jason walked behind me. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. Every hair on my body stood on end and I felt goose bumps on my arms. I shut my eyes and tried to focus. Tried to think of something I could do to let Lizabell know I needed her. I had no radio, I couldn't scream, I couldn't free myself. I had nothing. I had no way of getting the help I needed. I felt Jason's breath on my cheek. I cringed and squeezed my eyes tighter.
“I've been looking for you for so long,” Jason said dragging out the word 'so' as if he were telling a sad tale. I could feel Jason move. His breath was on my ear, breathing out air that dripped with ice and death. “It will be a pleasure to be remembered as the man who took Jocelyn Collins to her grave,” Jason whispered into my ear.
I pulled my head away from Jason unable to bare the thought of being killed so young. I had my whole life in front of me, and I truly believed it was about to end. Then I remembered what I had to offer if I remained alive. Jason wouldn't kill me, not now at least. He would torture me and then kill me when I told him what he wanted. That is, if he could get the information out of me. I told myself again and again I would die rather than tell anyone the information I had, but I knew I wouldn't be able to hold against torture. Especially not at the hands of Jason.
“Take her to the cars,” Jason instructed his men. Then to me he said. “Happy nightmares Jocelyn. Blaire will be happy to see you again.”
A cloth doused with chloroform pulled over my face. My eyes shot open and I tried to struggle. Remembering what I had been taught I held my breath, but my breath was poisoned with chloroform. Even as I struggled I was growing tired. The men holding me resisted my struggles with ease. From the first moment I knew it was only a matter of time before I would see nothing. I could feel the fearful fire behind my eyes, the fire that was slowly being put out. I gave up struggling as my body became numb. I just stared at Jason with fearful eyes. He smiled at me as I started to drift away. What cruel eyes Jason had. Eyes the pierced right into your soul and filled your body with paralyzing ice. He was like the evil witch from Narnia, except the death he caused was real. I stared at him, knowing that the next time I saw him, it would be on my death bed. A slight movement caught my shortening attention. Through fading vision, I could just make out the dark gun and the long, wavy hair that crept through the darkness like a shadow. Lizabell.
My world turned as black as the darkest night, but there were no stars to keep me company. I was alone in the darkness, alone in my worst nightmares.

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Fear


What is fear?
More than a petty child's dream.

Where is fear?
A void where hope is lost.

How is fear?
When one is in need of comfort.

When is fear?
A time when securities are insecure.

Who is fear?
The words in mind that play into images.

Why is there fear?
Caution runs wild, clouding common sense.

Fear,
Nothing more than a mist that clouds our mind.
Backing away makes it bigger,
Standing still makes it scarier.
The only way out,
Is through.

Soldier


Memories never forgotten,
Dreams always haunted,
Keep your loved ones close,
Try to push your enemies away.

Fight for your country,
Fight for your family,
Fight for duty,
Fight to stay alive.

Hope for your freedom,
Hope for your liberty,
Hope for honor,
Hope to return home.

Love for your country,
Love for your duty,
Love for life,
Love your family forever.

Pray for constant protection,
Pray for another day,
Pray for friends,
Pray, don't be deported.

A soldier returns home,
Scarred from a never ending war,
A soldier returns home,
The world rejoices.

Mountain Against the Wind


How many times can I be hurt
Before I feel pain?
How many times can I be pushed
Before I fall?
How many times can I be beaten
Before I bruise?
The world is out to get me,
So keen on having my tears.
How many times can I be choked
Before I can't breathe?
How many times can I be torn
Before I lay in pieces?
How many times can I crack
Before I shatter?
I try to stand tall,
But the forces against me
Make me slowly crumble.
How many times can I be blinded
Before I can't see?
How many times can I crash
Before I burn?
How many times can I be burned
Before I disintegrate?
I stand alone,
I take their abuse, a wince with every blow.
How many times can I be poisoned
Before I can't move?
How many times can I be stabbed
Before I bleed?
How many times can I be shot
Before I die?
Somehow I stand strong
Like a mountain against the wind.
I hold out for what I know.
Dare them to come,
To try what they may,
But they won't, they can't break me!


I am the mountain that faces the wind.