I had several looseleaf binders filled with short stories I wrote back in the '70s and '80s. All stolen, which I take as a complement. I don't really "write", I have a story pop into my head and wait to be written down.
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Current time: April 26, 2024, 9:20 am
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Speaking of
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  RE: Speaking of
November 12, 2020 at 10:47 pm
(This post was last modified: November 12, 2020 at 11:08 pm by Foxaèr.)
For those wondering what happened with this novel, I kind of gave up on it after chapter nine.
With me, it’s usually life that gets in the way and I lose interest in attempting to write when I am not afforded the opportunity to simply sit there and use my imagination. Anywho, I will be providing the chapters I wrote. Read them if you wish and let me know what you think. Chapter 1 is at the beginning of the thread. Chapter 2 “Vesa, remember what happened to Narcissus?” came the daily morning call to breakfast. She sighed, turned away from the mirror since she was done prepping herself for the day, and she shouted, “He didn’t exist.” It was a fact. Narcissus, as was true for all the characters from Greek mythology, had been imaginatively created simply to serve as a lame lesson. Humanity certainly did seem to enjoy its nonsensical morals via story form. After all, there was nothing wrong with taking pride in one’s appearance. Her mother knew better than to resort to silly human superstitions, which was why Vesa also understood that her mother was just teasing as she was wont to do as part of her personal charm. It was the type of charm that annoyed the others in the family because they were stern traditionalists. Vesa had inherited her mother’s contemporary courage while her twin might as well have been father’s clone as far as character was concerned. She swiveled the chair back around and took one final glance at her flawless appearance in the vanity mirror. Long golden locks braided around her head in typical cultural fashion, beryl colored eyes drowning in black eyeshadow that would make her father uncomfortable, sun-touched skin reminiscent of youth despite her true age, striking bone structure that could have been featured in magazines, and slender pointed ears that identified her as elven. “You coming?” her twin asked as he passed by her open doorway. You coming, she silently parodied in her mind as she stood up and accessed her outfit. A long opalescent silk gown, that magically camouflaged her along the aerial walkways amidst the trees of the forest, flowed effortlessly around her lithe figure. She spun around, the gown reacting eloquently to her movements, and made her way out of her bedroom. The walkway felt cool beneath her bare feet. The sun had not yet risen, but bioluminescent fungus provided enough light by which to see. With her keen eyesight she spotted her twin up ahead just before he disappeared on the other side of a tree. Their entire home and everything residing within had been fashioned by magically altering the upper tree area of the forest. The mansion of a home spanned for many acres and several levels, but their elven agility and speed made it easy to move from one area to another rather quickly if they were in the mood. She was rarely in the mood to move faster than was necessary, which was never fast enough for the rest of the family. Three generations, including the extended family of grandparents, aunts and uncles, as well as cousins, resided in the forest home. They were the Darlel House, infamously known to be both Wood and High, with the kind of magic at its disposal that was quite envied by all other houses. She had lost count of the precise number of family members that resided there, but no one could accuse their family of being small. When she rounded the corner of a tree and spotted the dining hall ahead, she did not see her twin. Of course, he had sped his way there and he was probably already halfway done with his meal. The dining hall was used for extravagant feasts when there were guests in attendance for any number of annual parties, but usually at that time of the morning it was filled with sleepy young elves breaking their fast before being sent off to school. Delicious smells wafted from the adjacent kitchen, where her mother was preparing food as she did most mornings because it was her favorite meal of the day. She took a seat across from her twin at one of the long tables that spanned the entire width of the dining hall. He inhaled the last bite of his fruit and berry salad and then motioned for her to partake of the bowl before her. Food was one area where she was not picky, because elven biology was very different than human biology in that it was impossible for elves to be obese. She ate heartily of the sweet, sugary goodness as she studied her twin. They were fraternal, naturally, yet androgyny in elven males allowed them to appear as equally beautiful as any female elf. Therefore, the minor differences in their respective appearances were only noticeable to one studying both their faces side by side and with unnecessary intent. Since both male and female elves were both tall and lithe of figure, the only distinguishing difference between gender, not that it mattered, was the shape of the shoulders. Male elves had broader shoulders. Her twin, Aiken, was distinguishable from her in that he did not wear mascara, despite the fact that he kept his secret maudlin approach to life well hidden behind a mask of stoicism. Elven twins had a special magical bond that transcended the notion of self. Which was not to state that they could not be their own individual selves, merely that they were bonded in a mentally intimate way. Why do you insist on doing that to your eyes? he asked telepathically. Jealous? she retorted. He guffawed, which brought many young eyes to gaze upon them. He visibly glared at her, and she smiled at the discomfort radiating from him. He, like most people, disliked drawing unwanted attention due to a social blunder. She popped a blueberry into her mouth and savored its sweet juices as it erupted in her mouth. It had not eluded her notice despite the wall he had erected between them a few decades ago that his short time among the humans had softened him a bit. Also, despite their magical connection, that impenetrable mental wall had succeeded in keeping particular secrets from her. She did not mind, because he deserved his privacy just as she deserved her own. Aiken reached up and pressed his fingertips to the magenta stone embedded in the pendant he wore around his neck. The change was immediate. He transformed from a beautiful elf to a mediocre looking teenage human in drab clothes. You coming? he asked. She nodded and pressed the magenta stone set in the silver bracelet she wore on her left wrist. Chapter 3 He snuck into the house through an open upstairs window. Apparently, due to the fact that it was hotter in the house than outside, either the place lacked an air conditioned unit or the residents wanted to keep their electric bill at a reasonable price. He had done some sleuthing, just enough to know what he absolutely needed to know, but their bills were of no concern to him. The couple slept in their undergarments and atop the bed linen. The way their skin glistened with sweat, he could imagine their discomfort even though they were in a deep state of rest. That was common with the slaves of the creature he was hunting. He exited the room as quietly as he had slipped through the open window, sensing that the creature he was after was not at home, and he did some extracurricular sleuthing about the house. After a cursory check of a place that reminded him of a monk’s banal quarters, he sat down near the bottom of the stairs. It was a prime vantage point from which to confront his opponent. He had caught word of the demon at a local restaurant where he happened to stop while on his way through town. The local people had not mentioned the word demon, but he came to the logical conclusion after piecing together their scattered intel. As far as they were concerned, the kid they knew as Josh McBride was entirely too secretive for his own good. Although he knew the neighbors were just nosy buggers who did not necessarily understand the value of privacy. Yet, goodness forbid anyone probe through their personal business. The soft sound of a key being inserted into the front door roused him from his thoughts, and he watched from the darkness as a shadowy figure entered the house. Even though he had perfect vision without the aid of corrective lenses, his eyesight was still only human. He could adjust his eyes somewhat to the darkness, but not in the way that creatures of the night were capable of doing. After the door closed behind whom he assumed was the demon kid named Josh, he squinted his eyes to watch for slight alterations of movement that would distinguish the individual from the deep shadows. When he noticed the figure close to the bottom of the stairs, he said, “Enjoy your breakfast?” He assumed the demon had been out hunting and found itself a victim. He also assumed that the demon was going to be on the defensive and ready to fight for its survival. He breathed evenly, kept his heartbeat steady, and he listened carefully for the whispered sound of an impending attack. If he was right about what kind of demon was parading as a kid, an Incubus, its most powerful weapons were its mind and its tail. The mind, naturally, being the deadliest since there was nothing at his disposal to counter it. Which meant that he had to move quickly and make the first debilitating assault. He pulled the trigger, which released the dart that would inject a fast acting tranquilizing agent especially useful against savage demons. He could not see if the dart hit its target, although he was more than certain his aim had been true despite the darkness. When he heard the metallic clang in the adjacent room, he figured that the demon had altered the course of the dart. “Someone should have told you not to mess with an Incubus, little hunter.” Instinct told him to move, and he did. He lunged up the stairs a couple of feet as he felt the slight breeze of something swiping past him. No doubt it was the tail. Then he reached for the knives at his sides, drew them, and propelled himself away from the stairs toward the demon below. Since he could not see, which was obviously not good, he was less concerned about striking vitally as he was brutally. First, before reaching for the light switch in order to even the fight, he had to at least draw blood. Or whatever it was that constituted as demon blood. He felt the knives penetrate flesh, and a howl erupted from the demon. Yet, he did not pull back fast enough, because he was struck by something hard in the chest that sent him reeling away from the demon. He hit what he assumed was the wall, bounced off that like a rag doll, and then tumbled to the floor where he knew he had little time to recover. So this is why hunters prefer to work with a partner, he thought as he jumped to his feet. He was disoriented, but he focused past the pain and the darkness to access his location as well as remain alert for the next incoming attack from the demon. It appeared that he was in the living room to the right of the staircase. He shifted his stance and momentarily lost his balance, but the wall caught him. At that point he figured he was leaning against the wall horizontal to the threshold, and if he remembered correctly there was a light switch probably a few inches from him. He reached out, fumbled along the wall with his hand for what seemed too long, and then upon feeling the tiny protruding lever he flipped it. The room flooded with light, which momentarily startled the demon who had at that precise moment crossed the threshold into the living room. He ignored its demonic appearance and took the opportunity to strike again with the single knife he had left in his possession. The other knife, he noticed, was still protruding from the demon’s abdomen. He plunged the knife into the demon’s side, which elicited another howl that was likely alerting the entire neighborhood, and he reached with his free hand to twist the other knife painfully into the demon’s abdomen. Something at that point seemed to grab him from behind and pull him away from the demon. No doubt a telekinetic ability at work. He braced himself for an impact against the wall he doubted he would recover from, but something gave way against his back and the sound of shattering glass alerted him of his predicament. The impact of striking the ground was jarring, but he tucked and rolled and eventually came to a stop on his knees. The sound of approaching sirens informed him that he needed to quickly depart. He raised his head and caught a glimpse of the demon reverting back to its human form. He ignored the pain in his own body and forced himself away from there. And don’t come back, came the demon’s thoughts into his head as he departed. Chapter 4 Vesa exited the portal behind her twin and into the fake human home they used as a cover, because for some reason their parents wanted them to have a human education before the end of their teenage years. The portal closed behind them and left them in the darkness of the basement, which was the safest place from prying eyes to enter the human world through a magical portal. She followed behind Aiken as he led the way through the dank, unfurnished basement. Every time she had tried to lead the way, he whined about how slow she was. His complaining was something she was not in the mood for any more, especially when it was easier to let him unnecessarily speed his way forward. When she finally made it to the top of the basement stairs, she discovered flashing red and blue lights painting the atmosphere. The source was clearly emergency vehicles from outside, and her first thought was that the authorities surrounded their fake home for some reason. Then she quickly figured that was an irrational thought. She found Aiken standing in the living room. He was peeking through the curtained window next to the front door. “What is it?” she whispered as she approached the window. “Looks like something happened at the house across the street.” She pushed the curtain aside. Across the street, where the Incubus lived with his fake parents, two police cruisers and an ambulance were parked at the curb. The front door of the house was wide open, and a burly police officer stood guard as though someone was going to attempt to enter. Concerned, or nosy depending on how one decided to view it, neighbors stood in the middle of the street as they faced the police cordoned house. “Let’s join the others out there,” said Aiken. “We have to wait for the bus anyway,” she replied as she shrugged. She followed him outside where the sky was beginning to lighten in the East. The bus would be arriving shortly, but not before they had a chance to learn from the neighbors what was happening with the McBride residence. The adults were not likely to tell them anything, which meant that the best source of information was from the gossipy teenagers waiting for the bus that morning. She was not particularly fond of the neighborhood teenagers, which was a valuable way of ascertaining they never came around ringing the doorbell to participate in their mundane version of socializing. At least her twin had an acquaintance-only sort of relationship with some of the guys who were not like girls by way of needless socialization. He approached the group of teens and said, “Sup.” He fist-bumped a couple of the guys, and one of them said, “Shower water drown your ears this morning?” Another guy added, “The howls were so loud I heard it over my mother’s loud mouth trying to get me up.” The girls were lost in their own conversation, which did not involve the McBride house. They were discussing what they usually did, the trivial concerns of self-absorbed social media and reality television cliches. She returned her attention to her brother who said, “I heard it and I just figured Josh finally went psycho on his parents.” No doubt, Aiken had telepathically extrapolated that thought from their minds. One of the guys slapped the back of his hand playfully against Aiken’s chest and said, “Dude, we thought the same thing.” Whenever she delved into the minds of most female teens, she ended up being disgusted. More so by the thoughts of guys who thought about sex constantly. Which was why she had learned to not invade their privacy under any circumstance. Besides, unlike her twin, she preferred exercising her nature abilities over her mental prowess. There was an increase in crowd chatter and she followed their gazes toward the McBride house. A stretcher was brought out by two paramedics. At first, she expected the white sheet to completely cover a dead body, but it was soon revealed that an injured Josh was being taken to the hospital. He was shirtless and a tight bandage was wrapped around his midsection. His gaze studied the crowd as he was delivered into the back of the ambulance. “Whoa, maybe his dad went psycho on him,” said one of the guys. “Or maybe his mom,” said a female voice, as though to infer that men were not the only ones who could snap. As the ambulance left for the hospital, the crowd of adults dispersed back to their respective houses. The throng of teens slowly moved over to the sidewalk where the bus stop was located. Vesa wondered, as she followed her brother, why Josh had not just healed himself via his natural form. The Incubus, after all, could heal rapidly in a way that not even Elven magic could accomplish. Also, she could not imagine his fake parents attacking him, because an Incubus’ control was rather solid. What are you thinking? Aiken’s question penetrated her mind. She shook her head and whispered, “I don’t know what to think, but something’s certainly not right.” I agree. I wish we could just ditch school to figure it out. She looked skeptically and shockingly at Aiken. The impassive rule follower wanted to do something impulsive? “Maybe later,” she whispered low enough for his superb hearing alone to understand her. “At least if we show up for home room and second period, the school is less likely to be concerned about us missing the second half of the day.” Good thinking. During lunch we’ll head to the hospital. The yellow school bus took that opportunity to make an appearance down the street. Once on the bus, the popular kids moved to the back of the vehicle where they always sat. Her twin joined his acquaintances in the middle of the bus. She sat down in an empty seat she usually shared with the quiet Incubus, and on the way to school she wondered what had happened to him. Chapter 5 Due to the decision to revert back to his human form, fatigued from the wounds he had sustained from the naive little hunter, he slipped into unconsciousness on the way to the hospital. He awoke in a lying position with a chubby female face staring down at him. For a brief moment he thought, What the hell is happening? And then his internal voice commented on the blackheads that riddled her pores. “Ever heard of personal space?” he asked when he found his voice. She was the type of individual who openly wore her emotions and thoughts on her face. She quickly went from friendly concern to chilly disgust as she backed away from him. Well, excuse me, she thought, but instead she said, “You were stabbed pretty deeply, but luckily no major organs were hit. The surgeon stitched you up, we gave you some blood to make up for what you lost, and you’re probably in quite a bit of pain. What would you classify your pain level as?” He tried readjusting his body. The pain shot through his midsection and launched itself down to his groin where the discomfort caused him to yell out with a curse. “That bad, huh?” said the woman in neon pink scrubs that did her complexion complete injustice. “Very well, I’ll be back with some pain medication.” The pain he was experiencing somewhat blurred his vision, but she was big enough for him to still properly see the struggle she endured on weak ankles as she moved. Her body might have been a feast for another type of monster, but her conscience was relatively clean. If he wanted to nibble later, he would need a more viable candidate. He had never denied being a monster. An incubus, more precisely. Some would call him a demon, but they would be mistaken for human mythology tended to get a great deal wrong when it came to the supernatural. Heaven and hell did not exist, and by extension neither did angels or demons. He did somewhat appear in his natural form as what people thought a demon should resemble, but that was only because humans were prone to refer to that which was oddly different as demonic. Some people sometimes caught sight of a supernatural being and could not be persuaded by reason to perceive a favorable presence or a hallucination. Wildly imaginative mythologies sprang from such individuals. Judging from the natural light filtering through the blinds at the window, it was still daytime. The clock on the wall indicated that it was around noon. He doubted the hospital was going to discharge him any time soon with the condition in which he was. He also doubted he wanted to raise suspicion by later transforming in order to feast, even though he was starving, because the last thing anyone needed to witness was the rapid healing of his wounds. Humans believed in miracles, certainly, but that was mostly in relation to remission of something like cancer. The rapid mending of nasty wounds just did not occur. Someone came into the room, and at first he thought it was the pink-clad nurse returning with his much needed medication. Except that he did not perceive the color pink, and the mass of the individual was much smaller than that of the nurse who had personal space issues. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” he asked when he recognized the individual’s scent. His vision, for whatever reason, might have been going wonky, but his other senses were still quite sharp. He should have been familiar with her scent after sitting next to her on the school bus every day. It was not a bad scent, quite to the contrary actually. There was something altogether invigorating and natural about how she smelled. “Might have something to do with you being carried off in an ambulance this morning,” came her soft spoken reply. “So it takes almost being killed by an intruder to earn attention from a pretty girl. Makes sense.” “An intruder, what did he want?” “What they always want, what wasn’t his to have.” “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have bothered you. You need to rest, I’ll go now.” Suddenly, his vision returned to normal and he was uncertain what to make of the individual who stood at the foot of the hospital bed. She was an elf. It made sense that he had never before seen, or sensed, her true nature. It was due to the powerful magic that elves had at their disposal. Which also made him wonder why he was suddenly able to see her true form. Elves were capable of hiding themselves from other supernatural beings while having the kind of magical sight to see everyone and everything for what they truly were. Therefore, she knew that he was an Incubus. She had always known. A horrible pain took that opportune moment to rise up in his stomach, and he was forced into a sitting position. Oh, crap, he thought as he felt the bile rising from his hardening stomach. He turned his head in time, so as to not soil the elf, and a nasty smelling stream of dark liquid escaped his mouth in an arc to splash on the linoleum floor. When there was a sizable puddle on the floor that resembled a tar pit, his body was forced back down on the bed where he began to experience severe muscle spasms. It felt as though he was having a seizure. What’s happening to me? he expelled from his mind forcibly enough that it affected the elf. Upon seeing her clutch the sides of her head in pain, he felt bad. Yet also, she was possibly his only hope of surviving the day. There must have been some sort of poison on the hunter’s knives. After all, it was not as though the hospital would have a cure for a poison designed to kill supernatural monsters. Help me, he sent the thought using the last of his strength before the darkness overtook him. Chapter 6 There was nothing she could have done at the hospital and she dared not risk an emergency portal to the forest home. Thankfully, due to her rebellious nature, she had hacked one of the teleportation stones in order for it to deliver her to the woods behind the school. She was standing in a small clearing surrounded by old oak trees when she should have been in third period advanced placement biology. And, of course, she was alone because her twin had decided to not join her for the journey to the hospital as they had planned. Well, she was not entirely alone. Josh, the Incubus, was there with her. Except that he was unconscious, near death, and lying on the ground at her feet. Also, he half resembled his true Incubus form as though his body had involuntarily attempted a transformation for healing right before he completely lost consciousness. His true appearance had initially shocked her when she spotted him on the bus over two years ago, yet at the same time she had been intrigued. Which was why she had sat down next to him, much to the disapproval of her twin who had informed her telepathically of the danger into which she was putting herself. Much to her chagrin, and Aiken’s further disapproval, Josh proved to be harmless despite the reputation whispered about him. She studied his shoddy asymmetrical transformation, realizing that it was an indication of the dire predicament with which she had to handle. The left side of his face had turned in classical Phantom of the Opera mask style, except red as was the color of his Incubus skin. The right side of his muscular chest and petite torso had changed, while an expansive leathery wing protruded from his back. She was uncertain if the wings functioned for flight or if they were just for show. His left hand sported sharp claws, more for defense she imagined since the Incubus had no reason to shred his victims. A long tail wound itself from under his backside and it ended in a sharp point that exuded a paralyzing agent as another defense. His legs seemed normal, but she was not about to lift the hospital gown to check thoroughly. After all, she was already quite intimidated by the huge bulge that presented itself in his crotch area. From her research, she understood that the Incubus had a huge penis. The most impressive weapon at the disposal of the Incubus, however, was his mind. His telekinetic ability, to be more precise. He could render a victim absolutely powerless in order to satiate his hunger. She had no idea upon whom Josh had fed, although the lore was specific in the Incubus preferring female victims. There had been no suspicious deaths in the area, which suggested that he hunted elsewhere. His body convulsed, bringing her attention back to the importance of trying to save his life. He did not have much longer. She could see merely a wisp of life energy clinging stubbornly to his mind. She knew how to replenish and strengthen it, but what she was uncertain about was the magic working on an Incubus. She fell to a knee, slammed her hands to the ground, and sunk her fingertips into the dirt. She reached tendrils of her own energy deeply into the earth in search of an ancient magic that resided at the planet’s center. When she found it, a coldly detached presence, she slowly guided it up toward Josh. Energy, that which powered all life, was strangely void of sentience. Or if there was a sentience applicable to energy, it existed in a state entirely alien to her. She connected the archaic earthly energy to the wisp in his mind. Energy tended to recognize energy and thus bonded in order to rehabilitate and boost itself. She was relieved when she saw it working, energy being replenished and suffused to the neurons in his beautiful mind. When the process was complete, she released the earth’s energy from whence it resided. She pulled her fingers from the ground and watched intently with supernatural vision as Josh’s body slowly transformed to full Incubus form in order to more completely aid in the healing process. Naturally, the overall mass of his physical Incubus form was larger than the human shape he shrunk into to pass as normal in a society that would never perceive him as anything except a monster. Certainly, he feasted on humans, but then humans were fond of killing and eating many innocent creatures for sustenance. One could argue the importance of intelligent human life over subjectively inferior animal life, but that was mere semantics as far as she was concerned. “Quite the philosopher, aren’t you,” rumbled a powerful voice from the depths of his chest. “You’ve just been brought back from the very brink of death, and the first thing you do is eavesdrop on my thoughts?” He grinned, which was oddly alluring, and he shrugged. “What can I say, I’m a creature of habit.” “Anyway,” she said as she stood up. “I should probably head back to school. Missing one class might go unnoticed, but I don’t want to chance missing my next class.” “And leave a wounded monster here defenseless in the middle of the woods?” “You’ll be fine. See you later, or not.” Thank you, he sent into her mind as she walked away and in the direction of the school. The trees in the area had long ago gone silent, which had likely been a result of magic waning from the earthly realm, and the loneliness was something with which she was not accustomed while surrounded by nature. She did not quite blame humans for the loss they incurred whereby they could no longer commune intimately with nature, yet the destruction they caused in order to live industrially was something that could not be overlooked. The future fate of humanity was a somber one, indeed. At least she would be able to tell future generations of elven children that she had briefly lived among them. Chapter 7 The nun gave one last merciless tug on the bandage, causing him to wince from the pain felt deep in his bones, and she clasped the end with several metal clips. “I wouldn’t call it a standard fix,” she said as she gathered up the broken plastic packages. “But it’ll do as long as you don’t over exert yourself.” She threw the garbage in the trashcan by the door, turned back around to face him, and said, “Of course, it could have been worse. You’re lucky to have walked away with a bruised torso and fractured ribs. You might not be so fortunate next time.” She resembled all the other middle-aged nuns, clad in cloth all over except the oval opening that showed a face with a stern expression. The young nuns, which became fewer and fewer as secular society progressed, began their lifelong careers married to the church with expressions of innocence and kindness that waned with age. “How long was I out, Sister Terrance?,” he asked with a wince. It appeared that even the small act of speaking put enough pressure on his diaphragm to affect his midsection. Even though he had not broken any bones, so far as they could tell without access to an x-ray machine, it would take him a while to recover in order to continue his hunt against evil. “Half the day. It’s almost two in the afternoon, I think. Father Michael wants to see you, but then I expect you to get some more rest. You need it. “Good day, Brother Peter,” she said as she turned to leave the room. “We’ll pray for your speedy recovery.” Breathing hurt as equally as talking, but all he could manage was to take shallow breaths to somewhat lessen the discomfort. He hoped that some pain medication was forthcoming after the audience with Father Michael. He was normally not one to resort to legal drugs, but he did not foresee himself properly resting without the pharmaceuticals. Without proper rest, the longer he would be cooped up with demons relentlessly harboring his thoughts. A demon roaming freely was an affront to the Lord. He was both angry and disappointed in his failure to sack a high level demon, but he was mostly nervous about the impending admonishment from Father Michael. His task, upon crossing any high level demon, was to report the suspicious activity to the Church where they would decide what was to be done. The fact that he had gone against protocol and gotten himself hurt did not reflect well upon him or his training. He would not be surprised if the Church decided to put him behind a desk as punishment. The prospect did not appeal to him whatsoever. He was meant to travel, incapable of staying in one place for too long. Yet if there was no other option, he would grudgingly accept the discipline of being desk-bound. Although, perhaps the Church would see his initiative as testament of his devotion to the Holy Cause of proactively eradicating evil from the world. The Church could not afford to lose field agents, but he doubted those in charge would view the situation in that way, because the Lord always took and provided as He saw fit. He sighed, sending another ripple of pain through his torso, but he did not make a sound despite wanting to relieve his frustrations in such a vocal manner. “Whoa, dude, what happened to you?” He looked toward the door and saw Brother Daniel peeking into the room. They were both roughly the same age, and for some reason Daniel had latched onto Peter for friendship and support. Peter quickly learned that nothing would make Daniel leave him alone, and as a result he tolerated the younger guy with a grudge toward misfortune. “There were whispers,” he said as he snuck into the room. “Nothing concrete, so I had to come and see for myself.” Daniel, although being younger, was physically bigger and oddly more attractive. Not that Peter was bothered by what the Lord had decided with what to bless someone else. After all, Peter did have his good qualities. Despite usually being overlooked and underestimated, he was intelligent and perceptive. Of course, he also admitted that he had his faults, because he was only human and thus imperfect. It was the sinful man who refused to admit to his shortcomings. He normally did not smile, not that he could have managed it in his condition, and he must have appeared doubly standoffish to the only person who seemed to be able to enjoy his company. They were opposites in every conceivable way, which unreasonably made them compatible as...friends? Daniel was dark haired, fair of skin, and physically put together in all the right ways. Naturally, Peter was the opposite with his golden locks, acne riddled complexion, and dwarfish body. He over exaggerated. He at least cleared five feet, albeit only by a couple of inches. “Take a good look, because I’m not likely to ever be seen in this condition again.” “What happened? I thought your mission was a simple delivery.” “I may have tried to tackle a demon on my own.” His eyes widened and he asked, “Holy crap, did you slay it?” He shook his head and winced. “Broken ribs?” he inquired as he eyed the ace bandage wrapped tightly around Peter’s torso. “I don’t think so, probably just fractured.” He returned his worrisome gaze to Peter’s eyes and asked, “Why did you do it?” “Because I thought I could, because I wanted to prove myself to the Cause. Stupid, I know. Now I just await Father Michael’s righteous wrath and holy judgment.” Daniel stepped closer and reached out a hand. “He should be here soon so you should probably go. There’s no need for you to get in trouble, too.” His hand returned to his side and he nodded. Peter watched stoically as the gentle giant turned around and left the room. There was nothing to look at, so he stared at the blank wall as he waited in agony for Father Michael’s appearance. Chapter 8 The fourth and last class of the school day was her favorite. As an elf, she lived empathically with nature, which made her enjoyment of technology a guilty pleasure considering that the art of automation was something that did not exist naturally. Freshman year she had been introduced to computer programming, sophomore year she had delved into media science which allowed her to appear on the televised morning announcements much to her twin’s typical disapproval, and that year as a junior she was engaged in the area of graphic design. Bonding with technology was rewarding in its own way, even though there was no viable symbiosis. Technology, even with future advancements in artificial intelligence via robotics, would never be capable of true sentience. On the subject of robotics, she planned on learning all she could her fourth and final year on earth. Her interest was also piqued by that year’s new teacher. Mr. Greene was brilliant as well as attractive for a human. She seemed to be the only female who thought his appearance was pleasant, because the girls were always whispering about how he resembled some sort of folklore creep. Their nickname for him was Slender Man. He was tall and slender, as were elves, but he was human as far as she could discern. Not much could be hidden from her magical vision and she saw nothing inhuman about him. She figured the other girls were just being typically mean and insensitive because he did not fit the unrealistic criteria of what they expected of every man. She had attempted to watch some of the televised programming that they spoke of frequently, and it immediately became apparent that the fictionalized drama had negatively influenced them in regard to how they should view the world. It was sad that anyone would respect or even want to emulate an unrealistic representation of conduct. “Good afternoon, Vesa,” he said with a smile as she passed by his desk to reach her computer station. She returned the smile and the greeting as she took her seat and switched on the computer. After the rest of the students arrived and the bell rang to signal the start of class, Mr. Greene began. He cleared his throat to gain everyone’s attention, which was his way of informing them that social time had come to an end until the bell rang again to dismiss them. “Switch on your computers and listen to me as they warm up. You all did very well on your last project, but now we are moving onto something a bit more complicated. You will each individually draw a piece of paper from this box.” He picked up a simple shoe box from his desk and shook it for all to hear the rustling of paper against the inside walls of the shoebox. “On the paper is a brief description of a company seeking a new billboard logo to revamp their image. Your job is to create a combination of what you think is best for them and an incorporation of what they want. You will be sharing your design with the entire class along with an oral presentation. “It will be worth fifty percent of your grade and you have two weeks to complete it. There will be no second draw if you dislike your initial assignment, because in the real world you will have to create something for a company you may not particularly appreciate on a personal level.” He went from station to station, allowing each student to reach into the shoebox for an assignment. Vesa was the last to choose, yet she was surprised to discover that there were still many folded pieces of paper available. Her hand wandered around for a few good seconds before she finally picked what felt electric against her fingertips. She unfolded the paper and read, Country Dunn & Hall, the principal gun store in the United States, has seen a significant drop in sales the last two quarters and they are concerned. They have turned to you to provide for them a new image that will attract new customers while reminding regular consumers of the comfort of frequent purchases. Well, either her magic seemed to have disappointed her or she had actually chosen the assignment that was the least controversial considering her alien outlook on most human practices. Whatever the case, all that mattered was that she would have to work extra hard to apply herself to something she knew would deeply upset her on some level. After all, she viewed guns as unnatural and completely unnecessary contraptions. Only those having lost sight of their humanity thought the existence of guns meant protection from others with guns. Maybe she needed to do some research into the origin of guns in order to better comprehend how she could complete the project. Did she necessarily have to agree with what she produced in order to get a good grade on the project? It was not as though she would suddenly become an advocate for gun rights. It was possible to separate one’s personal beliefs from a job, but then that was also a matter of ethics into which she did not want to delve. “Good luck, everyone,” said Mr. Greene. “I look forward to your presentations and what you create.” She faced the computer screen, placed her fingers on the keyboard, and she began by bringing up a browser. It was research mode time and she needed to figure out the best way to portray guns that would not conflict too much with her perspective. It was a daunting task, but she believed in herself and the willingness to set aside cultural differences in order to make the most of her experience among the humans. Besides, maybe before she left earth indefinitely she could find some ingenious way to let her true position on guns be known in one of her classes. Ever the rebel, even among her own kind, she was always seeking ways to be different in ways small enough to not aggravate anyone past their limits. Perhaps one day she would forego with holding back for others, and a comforting smile crossed her lips. Chapter 9 The first thing he noticed upon arriving home was the temporary fix to the broken window. A wooden board had been fitted to the rectangular hole. The glass had also been cleaned up from the side lawn. No doubt, the work of his fake parents after the ambulance took him to the hospital. He had ordered them to not visit him in the hospital, and they had obeyed. The man pretending to be his father was probably still at work, earning a living for Josh to use the money how he saw fit once the minimal bills were paid. The woman pretending to be his mother was most likely preparing dinner. She was a surprisingly good cook. As he entered the house, remembering the early morning rumble with the young and inexperienced hunter, he wondered why he had never bothered to enthrall a sibling into the fake family. Having a fake brother to mess around with could have been fun. Oh well, too late at that point to simply incorporate another family member without raising undue suspicion. “Dinner will be ready at the usual time,” called out the woman who thought she was his mom. He took to the stairs and ascended to the second floor. He had taken the master bedroom for himself, naturally. It was the one room in the entire house that was decorated with such elegance as to be worthy of a home design magazine cover. Periodically, he altered something in the room, but not before taking pictures for his portfolio. An Incubus into home decorating, now that was something one did not often encounter. Though, technically, his main focus was the bedroom for an obvious reason. It was the single room of the house where he spent most of his time. The other rooms held little appeal to him. Besides, as an immortal he often had to delve into new interests in order to better enjoy the passage of time. A few years ago he was into lacrosse while he attended a New England boarding school. The extra curricular activities at the public school he was currently attending were best left to others, especially since he was back to being antisocial for a bit.
"Never trust a fox. Looks like a dog, behaves like a cat."
~ Erin Hunter 
Although I honestly haven't read it, don't write stuff like novels with the expected sanction of someone else's opinion. I certainly don't. I just write shit I like, because I want to.
Maybe you just got that infamous writers block? My problem is focus: Too much shit I want to write, too little prioritization.
"The first principle is that you must not fool yourself — and you are the easiest person to fool." - Richard P. Feynman
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