Ghost has Appeared

Ghost has made his debut!  Chapter 1-10 are posted, plus an Epilogue.  Chapters 1-3 are basically the same short story from long ago, with some minor changes.  I hope y'all like this.  Ghost has become a character that I've fallen madly in love with.

I'm Back

Sorry!  Been a little m.i.a. lately.  Good news, less stuff to worry about!  Bad news, my faith in humanity has dropped some.  Sigh.  Oh well.  We all experience that at some point, right?  At least my little problem child should be gone (fingers crossed).  I could do for a little less drama.  Since my life decided to become interesting, guess I need to learn to organize my time better.  Yeah, I'm a procrastinator.  A terrible one at that.  Need to start adding time on my calendar to post updates.  Or I could just leave y'all guessing when I'll appear again! Haha

As for my writing, spit out a lot of work over the past couple months.  Hell, I even finished Ghost!  Surprise to me.  I never write anything that fast.  Let alone finish it.  I have plenty of "almost done" works that are clawing for my attention.  Despite their cries for help, my mind wants to wander.  And since Ghost is now done and my main character is still hovering in my imagination, I kinda want to write another Ghost story.  Soon, I'll post a decent sized chunk of Ghost for y'all to read.  Have to say, Ghost is by far one of my favorite characters I've created.  What else to write?  Well, I have a vampire thing in the works.  Just a little something working off a dream I had.  Also am building on the short story Fallen Stranger from the short story challenge I did over the summer.  Thanks +Era Metko for giving me that little extra push to get the ball rolling!

Now, my desire to make y'all smile, or think I'm insane, has me posting this!  I think it's hilarious!  Enjoy the video, a Lego adaptation to one of Eddie Izzard's jokes, Cake or Death.

What's Up? Ghosty New Project Here!

Howdy!  Apologies for yet another lapse in posting.  I've been off doing things with church, family, and other randomness that keeps popping up.  I have started on a new project.  If you scroll far enough back in my posts, you'll see that I did a short story challenge over the summer.  I've decided to expand on one of those stories, Ghost.  It's been on my mind lately and I'm falling in love with the idea of a heartless assassin fearing what is happening to him after failing one of his missions, i.e., saving a girl named Anna White instead of killing her.  Now, as I'm writing this, currently at chapter fifteen, I still have yet to even reveal the main character's name.  I'm currently debating on two different names and when/how to reveal it.  He is so far known as "Mr. Waiter," "Ghost," or "Master," depending on who he is around.

My personal interest in this story is on Mr. Waiter's personal revelations.  I'm going for the hardass assassin with a strict personal code that meets a girl who is slowly changing him and he's afraid of those changes, constantly trying to push away the growing emotions inside of him.

The story is based in a fictional town that is often called a "hellhole" and is filled with criminals.  Focusing on the life of our main character, our lovely Mr. Waiter, we see his side as a hired gun in a town that is about to explode.  Two major families, the White's and the McCarthy's, each have their hands in a major commodity, though illegal, of course.  Mr. Waiter was hired to perform various tasks that Mr. Wilkes gives him.  These assignments have thrown the balance that the two families had into chaos.  Mr. Waiter then is given a decision, one where he could either keep with his current employer, Wilkes, or be employed by a man from one of the families.  How this ends is all based on a decision made by cold-hearted killer.

Yeah, the picture is one that reminds of my character I'm envisioning, minus the cigarette, none of my characters smoke.  But that would be Mr. Waiter as he works.  He leans toward the professional in his activities, be it as a waiter or assassin.  Though he does have his moments, allowing a pinch of madness to seep through when he is in a situation where he can spill blood.  One of the side effects of being the Ghost I guess.  Kind of makes me wonder how I come up with these types of characters and what must be going on in my head!  Seriously though, I'm loving his character and am thinking about pushing him into a situation where he questions his life as the Ghost and what he wants with Anna.  Just thinking out loud.

I'm up for suggestions and am willing to see if there is a way to weave those suggestions into the story.  I'll post its progression over time.  This is a side project that has currently captured me in it's claws and is unwilling to let go.  Oh the joys of storytelling!  Also, I have come to realize that this story has some influence from a couple of animes I've seen: Requiem for the Phantom and Black Lagoon.  So if you want to see where I'm kinda going with this, watch one.  Personally, I'd go with Phantom.

As reference, if you didn't catch it up top, here's the Ghost story.  Enjoy!

What's Been Up With Me?

Hello peoples!  Geez, I just can't get a break.  I tell myself to go post something on here then, as the universe would have it, stuff happens!  To put it simply, it's been a weird week.  On the bright side, went to an antique show just west of town!  You know, one of those shows that are out in the middle of nowhere Texas where you have no phone service?  Yeah, that kind of fun!  My friend asked if I wanted to

go so we made the hour trip out there!  I didn't get much, just an old pair of clip-on earrings and a key.  I was thinking about turning the earrings into something else.  Maybe a necklace or a pin?  Haven't quite decided yet.  Any ideas?  I thought that the earrings looked cool and had a wintry, snowflake kind of vibe.  Good thing winter is coming up!  And I also found a giant wooden moose!  Now, I'm a tall girl, 5ft 9in, and I was eye level with this thing.  I thought it was cool.  Not too often you find a moose in Texas.

But other than antiquing, I also went to church yesterday.  Ok, for those of you who don't know me, I'm not a big church goer.  In fact, I hardly ever go to church!  I know, I know, I'm a terrible Christian.  Nothing like poking fun at myself!  Ha.  But seriously, when I lived in Ohio, I was a member of a church group there.  When I moved back here, I dropped off the church bandwagon.  However, while I was in Ohio, I would go to home meetings and other various dinners and get-togethers with people from that church.  They're awesome people!  Down here, I never got in contact with the branch of the church here.  Until yesterday.  Funny story really.  I had this strange "I need to find a church" feeling a week ago and began looking around.  I found a Lutheran church that seemed interesting and when I called my friend to see if she would go with me (I don't like going to places for the first time alone) she said that she had gotten in contact with a member of our church life here.  This is what I find funny: I found the Lutheran church Sunday, was going to call friend Monday but forgot, called her Tuesday only to find out she had spoken to the church lady only a couple hours prior.  Talk about timing!  In the end, we went to church, met some cool people, and I think we're going again next week.  I'll admit, it's a bit weird going back.  Let the adventure begin!

So what other randomness has been going on with me?  Oh!  My sister wants to set me up on a blind date!  I've never been on one so I'm nervous, but excited.  From what she's told me about this guy, he seems kinda cool.  Of course, I won't know for sure until I meet him.  And I'm only doing this because he knows my sister!  Can't wait!  I'll let you know how it goes, maybe.  To be honest, I think my sister is doing this so that if her friend and I do get together, she can say that she was the one to set us up!  Love you too sis!

Here's a link to Shadows, another story of mine.  There's only three chapters up, but that's because it's still a work in progress.  I started it, then took a break because I hit the ever-lovable writer's block.  Just so you know, I'm up to chapter twenty-five in it, but there's still a lot of editing to be done.  Perhaps a little input from some readers about the first few chapters could help me get an idea??

I'm also tempted to put up another work of mine, Lost Soul.  I've been rereading it to help me get over the writer's block I have with it.  Yes, I hit writer's block often, but I just jump to a different work.  Lately, I've been busting out Caged like no tomorrow!  Caged is the sequel to Dethroned.  So far, the characters in Dethroned have grown on me and I'm loving a couple of them.  I can't mention one because he hasn't made an appearance yet in the chapters I've posted.

Here's a cute video I saw recently.  It's animated really well!  Enjoy:  Glen Keane - The Duet

Quick Update

Oh wow, I haven't updated in a long time.  Longer than I had thought!  Sorry!  Stuff started and life happened and my attention went elsewhere.  I will post something new soon!  Be it a post about my ramblings or another chapter, we shall see.  However, I have reread and did a lot of editing for Dethroned, changes will be up here shortly.  But as a quick apology, I'll add another chapter to Dethroned for y'all to read!  Enjoy!

Dethroned (Chapters Page)

Dethroned Chapter Six - Facing Master

New Chapter!

Chapter Five of Dethroned has been added!  Enjoy!! :)

Dethroned Ch. 5 - Choke Collar

Lost Love Life

Lately, I’ve had flashbacks to the old me. where today I smile, am optimistic, and generally happy-go-lucky, I used to be cold, bitter, and a bit grumpy. My heart was hardened, I didn’t believe in love. Quite simply, I was a lost soul and it sucked!

During recent reflections, I realized that I used to believe that I couldn’t love, that love was an illusion. Only people I cared for was family, but for years, I refused to say “I love you,” except to two people. Sad, I know. So, why was I so cold? Well, my parents divorced, but during that time, during the years of arguing and legal crap, I learned and heard things that not only hurt, but chipped away at my trust in people. Then in college, I had a few personal fiascoes. Some family related, others school, and, of course, relationships-wise as well.

Now, my dating life is less than spectacular. I had my crushes, I had a few boyfriends over the years, but one thing bothered me, I would typically be in a relationship for a few months at best. Just for laughs, my favorite break-up was when he broke up with me via Facebook. My roommate looked at me and said, “Hey, I didn’t know you two broke up.” Neither had I and I burst out laughing. I had been planning on breaking up with him anyway except face-to-face. But that guy is long gone. In 2012, I met someone else, we got engaged, moved in together, and we split this past January. Oh the joys of being single!

Then days like yesterday come around. Not going to complain, I had a lot of fun at the beach with my friend and her fiancé. But as much as I tell myself that I’m fine with my singleness, I really miss being in a relationship. I could see the love that my friends have for each other and honestly, I was a little jealous. I miss having someone to laugh with, to hold, to be there when I’m lonely or having a bad day. I really miss hugs and the goofing off. Watching them together, yeah, that little jealous green eyed monster wanted to make an appearance. Still, I love my friend and her fiancé, and I’m truly happy for them. They’re perfect for each other!  Besides, I have teeth to hate me.  Kept up with my own personal tradition that whenever I'm at a beach, I get a bag of saltwater taffy.  That stuff is delicious!

Besides, I have my cuddle-buddy, Motley, my cat! She’s my little fluffball. Yeah, I’m on track to be a crazy cat lady! Kidding! As for me getting back out there, I suck. I don’t know where to go to meet people. As much as I want to believe that I can meet someone at a coffee shop, I don’t think that’s going to happen for me. hell, I live on the outer edges of a major city and I can’t meet people! There’s something wrong with me. Geez, I’ve become anti-social. But I’ve never been the type to just walk up to some random person and say hi. Silly, but I’m kind of shy. Since I’ve moved back here, my childhood home, I’ve been lost. I came back home and have been kind of hiding. As I joke with one of my friends, I’ve become a hermit! What? I like my little hidey hole. Just don’t know what to do outside of it.

However, despite my romantic troubles, I’m glad that I’ve crawled out of my emotional black hole. Life is so much brighter! Guess all I need to do now is cross my fingers and step outside my door and hope I meet some fun people.

And, for your amusement, my favorite commercial from the Simpson's mega marathon last week!  I couldn't help but laugh whenever I saw this!

Reminding Myself to Relax and Read

It's been a weird week.  You know what I want to do?  Take a night to enjoy a campfire and stare at the stars!  Or dive back into a series I'm reading.  Jennifer Armentrout's Covenant series is really good, and I don't fangirl ever, but I think I'm crushing on Aiden!  Damn Jennifer wrote a good series.  Picked up Half-Blood by chance a couple years ago and recently realized that it was part of a series.  Yeah, sometimes I'm stupid when it comes to realizing there's a series.  I'm weird like that.  However, reading has become one of my favorite ways of relaxing, up until I get obsessed with reading and I stay up until 4am.  Since the vast majority of my books are on my Nook, I'm not helping my eyes.  After so long, I get a headache from eyestrain then I'm forced to lay down and go to bed.  But what I really find funny about myself is that I used to despise reading.  Wouldn't pick up a book unless I had too.  Even then I would drag out my excuses to keep from reading.  Then sometime during my third year in college, a switch flipped.  I picked up a book I had bought years earlier because I thought it looked good and I couldn't stop.  That year, my dad gave me a Nook as a birthday present and I still say that was the best gift ever!  I read between classes, between needing to study, whenever I could really.  Talk about obsessed!  Then writing wove its way in and I still have no idea how I graduated.


Since then, I've had my share of ups and downs and twists and turns.  Nevertheless, tough weeks like this past one have become regular.  None of it because of me.  A girl I know has been calling for help and my dad and I have been there for her.  But the drama surrounding this kid is driving me insane.  So I may be gripping my Nook a little tighter as of late.  The girl was dealt a terrible hand from birth and everything just keeps piling up.  Doesn't help that she doesn't make smart decisions.  I kinda want to pick her up and shake some sense into her.  Yeah, been interesting with her around, thus my weird week.  But oh well, I'm too nice for my own good.  Guess I need to start scowling more, huh?

So what am I supposed to do when my patience is tested and I'm at my wit's end?  Personally, I try to take a step back and think things through rationally.  Works for a good five minutes in my current situation.  Then when I try talking to the girl, it goes in one ear and out the other.  It seems that nothing I've said reaches her.  All I'm trying to do is help, give her advice.  Some of what she's been through, I have experience in.  So when she doesn't listen to me or my dad (who she looks up to) I feel useless.  Why help if I know she won't listen?  She knows that I can help, I've gone to college and my major is one that is useful to her.  I know I'm not telling you her problems, I want to, but it's not my place to say.  All I will say is that most people in her situation would be either in juvie or on the streets.  So, not good.  Yeah.  But alas, there is hope.  She wants to change.  Despite whatever else is going to happen, she just needs someone to encourage her and be a good influence.  She's a good kid, just been misguided.  Crossing my fingers hoping all goes well.

The Internet is Coming! The Internet is.... Oh, Internet!

How many of us have some form of technology with us at all times? A phone? Tablet? Laptop? IPod? Gaming device? You see, I’ve lost hope in the generation below me. With their cell phones, “techy” skills, them being spoiled rotten by technology.  I even wonder about how technology effects our children and if it is positive or negative.  Now, I may be twenty-four, but I didn’t have a cell phone growing up, only reason I received one was because my parents divorced when I was in high school, I didn’t have internet/wifi until I went to college, and I only got a Facebook because everyone else at college had one. Talk about peer pressure. To me, it’s no big deal to not have a phone, internet, and other luxuries. Now, I’ll admit, I’m typing this post on my laptop with my phone sitting a few inches away and my have my headphones in, but if you take them away from me, I can last more than an hour without freaking out if someone is trying to message me on Facebook. Well, I might turn on a radio or open my Nook.  What?  I'm obsessed with music and I have a massive pile of virtual books to read.  In fact, I had no phone for almost three months, finally got one about three days ago. I already have no internet at home, so Starbucks and Panera are my wifi hotspots.  During that time, I read a lot, wrote a lot, and worked on improving some personal relationships.

Everywhere I look, I see kids with phones in their hands, heads down, tuned out to the world around them. Is it wrong of me that I want some of them to walk headfirst into a pole? Hell, even the pictures showing the modern day zombie apocalypse amuse me.  I’ve already decided that my kids aren’t going to have their own phones until high school, at the soonest. We’re going to have a family computer in the kitchen and then my kids are going to get their own laptop come high school, if needed. IPods, well, I’m all for music so maybe one without internet. I know, I know, I might be a bit harsh but kids need to learn that the world doesn’t revolve around computer screens. There is this wonderful thing called the outdoors that they can rediscover. Kids in the past managed to survive without computers; I think kids today can do the same. I know I did. I played soccer, rode horses, loved the outdoors. Only problem I have is the heat. Summer here sucks. But what can I do about the weather? If there’s an app to change the weather, well, count me in! There’s that phrase again, “there’s an app for that!” Yes, some apps are helpful while others are useless. Now, I’m not bashing technology completely, as I said, I have my fair share of it too, but maybe putting down the phones and turning off the tv would benefit everyone, at least the kids.  Here's a good site to see a list of reasons for less tv.  So how many of you remember dail-up?  Needing to disconnect from the internet because your mom needed to use the phone?  What about phones with those really long cords attached to them?  Cassettes?  Walkmans?  Sometimes, I miss the old technologies.  

But I want all of us to think about a few things.  

• When is a good age to introduce our children to technology?  
• When should a child receive their first phone?  
• How much is too much time online, watching tv, playing video games?  
• Is being plugged in more important than going out?  
• How much would you trust your child with being online?
• Is Facebook, Instagram, and other social site really better than being social?
• Was life really that bad before technology boomed?
• As technology improves, do we really need to upgrade everything?  (Like iPhone 4 to 5 when we all know the 5 will be obsolete in a year)

Now, before you label me as an anti-internet crazy person, please realize that all I want is for people to think. Our older generation understands the benefits of fresh air and exercise. Our younger generation is obsessed with electronics. What happened to being social without social media? Talking with friends face-to-face without Facetime? I get that we have friends out of town, but for those you can visit, do so. We’ve become a people obsessed with tv and internet and in need of fresh air. Take some time to turn off the electronics and have fun. Go to the pool, bowling alley, movie theater, play sports, ride horses, fly a kite, read a book. These past few months for me without my phone have been weird, but I learned from it. So here’s my challenge to you, turn off your phone and computers for a day, two if you want to push it, and go have some fun without them! See what else you can do that doesn’t involve staring a screen in your hand or lap. All I really want for people today is to remember the past. Remember who we were, what we could do before we invented these funny little devices that we carry everywhere. Now, back to my IPod and listening to my favorite music.

How Technology is Changing the Way Children Think and Focus

The Impact of Technology on the Developing Child

Technology Revolution

As Technology gets Better, Will Society get Worse?

Top 10 Reasons to Turn Off Your TV

Dream of a Dream

Ah dreams.  The ever wonderful visions of the night.  Stories of unknown appearing as they may within the mind of only one person, to be shared by word if so desired.  So why am I beginning to ramble about them?  Simple, I've had far too many dreams in the resent past.  You must have dreams, we all do.  Whether or not we remember them when we wake is the question.  Have you had any interesting dreams lately?  I might as well tell you one of mine.

Last night, I dreamed that I was helping save a herd of endangered buffalo (or what looked like the fluffy white versions of buffalo).  Then once they were out of harms way, I went home where, to my surprise, there was my entire team, plus some others I had never seen before.  Apparently, in my dream, I knew everyone, but in reality, I have no clue who anyone was; no face ringing any bells.  Well, one of the girls on my team elbowed me and whispered something that sounded like there were a few guys here who were going to take the women.  Great.  Looking down, I realized that my outfit had changed from the hunting gear to a nightgown.  Another perfect moment.  Smart me kept to the edges of the group where I busied myself with cleaning, or whatever it was.  Then I heard a guy behind me saying that I was his, his hand grabbing my shoulder, spinning me to face him.  The grin on his face sickened me.  However, someone else on the other side of the room called out that I was already taken.  When I looked at the guy who yelled, my jaw dropped.  Not only was he cute, but I had this overwhelming feeling to trust him.  And as timing would have it, I woke up.

My rescuer's face still in the forefront of my mind, I realized something, I recognized him from another dream I had.  Talk about overlap.  He was my teammate in my older dream as well.  That one saving my friend from a terrible situation.  Guessing that I found my dream man!  Of course, when it came to looks, I shake my head at myself.  My dream man looks very much like a character I've created, except for the eyes.  Oy vey, must be me being single again that's bringing all this up.

However, dreamy men aside, I've realized that some of my writing has permeated my dreamworld.  If it's reversed, then I haven't realized it yet.  I know I have an active imagination, but this was ridiculous!  Come on, my dreamworld, a place where the unknown is supposed to be random.  Then again, I can see how dreams can help the writing process.  Throwing out randomness that, if we remember when we wake, could be helpful.  I haven't really pulled any inspiration from my dreams, but I also don't need to use fluffy, white buffalo in any of my stories either.  Mr. Dream man of mine has already made an appearance, but I'm putting that in the 'Story to Dreams' file.

There's New Chapters to be Read

So, I have just posted chapter three of Dethroned and chapter three of Shadows.

Here's a little bit of background for these stories.

Dethroned is told through the eyes of Michael and Kyla, both are deo, a human-like demon that drinks blood to survive.  Yeah, a bit cliche with the vampire theme, but since they don't need to drink constantly, I thought I would be safe with the demon aspect.  Deo, however, when described are a nasty bunch.  Typically most of the seven deadly sins can be given to their name; greed, wrath, envy, pride, lust, and sometimes sloth.  Another quark of theirs is that they are drawn to power, wanting to find a way to grab it and claim the power as their own.  Which may have been why the deo King was so powerful?  You see, there was a King who threatened to destroy the deo race, so a group of humans and deo 'rebels' banded together and 'dethroned' the King, but instead of killing him, they placed a spell upon him, sealing away his demon-self and preventing him from being at him full potential.  While alive, the King has remained hidden, protected from Hunters by his Guardian.  This story is set years after the King's fall and Michael is living a mostly content life.  He does what he wants, but hates the tattoos that creep across his skin.  Michael and Nathan live in the same city, but despite appearing to be friends, they despise each other.  Nothing like two hard-headed deo living in close proximity.  When Kyla comes into the picture, Nathan's sister, Michael see potential.  Then stuff ensues, which I can't tell you now, unless I want to ruin the story.  Sorry, gotta read it!  Oh, and have I mentioned I've already finished Dethroned?  There is a sequel, Caged.

Shadows is focused on a girl named Mila.  Her family lives in the Tolian territory, central zone.  Why is there a territory?  Well, after a massive war, people split into three groups, each of which with their own territory, Tolian, Deptherian, and Acen.  Each territory with their perks.  Tolian is known for it's rivers.  Back to Mila.  While her father works with Shadow Research, Mila and her friends are deciding what to do with their lives now that they've graduated high school.  Despite desperately wanting to travel, Mila often daydreams about going to these other territories, or at the very least, the outer zones.  The story begins with her mother calling her downstairs, where Mila is given a letter stating that she has been granted a Shadow.  What is a Shadow?  Think of it as a bodyguard that is linked to you by the tattoo placed on your wrist.  A Shadow is extremely protective of its Charge and often reacts without warning.  After receiving her Shadow, Mila begins to hang out with a group of Shades, all thanks to her friend Meg.  One of which, Scott, she is curious about.  Certainly it has nothing to do with his super blonde hair, as she repeated to her friends.  Yet Scott takes interest in her.  After being told by Emily that she was distracting Scott and that he was taken, Mila tries to take a step back.  Only to be pulled back when Scott insists that she is not a distraction and that he wanted to get to know her.  Alright, you're probably wondering, what are Shades?  They look like normal people, but they have a strange metal bar reaching from their temple going back into their hairline.  Shades also have different personalities, being very quiet, loners, preferring to be with their own than 'normals'.  While normal people and Shades still mix, it isn't often.  It's Mila's and Scott's relationship that I focus on, as well as the storyline of course.  There's definitely more than the romance budding between the two of them.  Got your attention?  Then check it out!

Piece by Piece

     As I'm sure some of us who write often do (whether realizing it or not), there's a little piece of the author within their story.  I've been on a roll with one of my stories when I suddenly thought of my first work, which will never be published as it is just a jumbled mess of words.  My mind went to a few scenes where I went: "Hmm, I remember writing that.  I was thoroughly pissed off at the world.  And that one, oh I was so happy.  And that, well, funny story...."  And so on and so forth.  You can really tell what emotion I was feeling when I wrote something.  Hell, I even created a few characters just to beat up on; I'm so nice, aren't I?  But over the years since I started writing, I've used it as an outlet.  A way to let out my stress and vent in a way that I felt comfortable with.  Some of the problems I was dealing with were of that wonderful variety where you didn't really have anyone to talk to.  I still thank my old college suite-mate for dragging me to her Graphic Novel Club (not that kind of graphic novel!).  She was really big into comics and thought that a club for her and her friends would be fun.  I'll admit, I'm not that big into most comics, I prefer the occasional manga/anime, but there were a few fun activities.  One of which was a Character Creation where we were given three words.  Mine were "light", "evil", and "squirrel".  Yes, squirrel.  That threw me for a loop, but I came up with a misunderstood evil vampire who had a pet squirrel.  Squirrel problem solved!  Bonus points would be given for a background story.  Then we had a competition, character vs. character!  I made it to the final round but some guy with a gazebo in his stomach beat me.  Needless to say, that started my first story.  It shall remain as such, my twisted little story, never to be published.  However, I realized that other ideas began swimming around my mind and when they couldn't be applied to my first work, I started the pile I have growing in my Dropbox folder.

     The ideas that start each of my stories vary: an rp I was involved in, just having a beer with a couple friends (I'm of age, duh), seeing a picture somewhere, or staring off into space (which happens more than I'll admit).  But after I get the original story, how do I keep it going?  Fill in the blanks and make it flow?  Honestly, pray to God that something I write works.  Yet, inspiration for me also comes from myself.  A childhood memory.  A fight with someone.  A situation I stepped into.  Even things that I saw other people do.  Sorry, I'm a bit of a creeper.  Watching people can be really entertaining!  Some of you agree with me, come on, don't deny it!  While in college, I would go to Panera and study.  There were five spots that I claimed, well preferred since I couldn't exactly place a plaque over the seat saying it was mine.  Well, three of those spots had the perfect view of the street corner I was on and where I went to college, there was plenty of interesting people.  So many fun times.  It also didn't help that for half my papers for my major involved observation and/or interviewing.  I learned a lot about my friends and that annoy kid I nicknamed "Stripes" (he was wearing a striped shirt when I first saw him, made sense to me).  Though, I'm great at writing research papers, stories were more of a challenge for me.  Yes, it was my release, but ideas didn't really hit me like a brick wall.  Since I started writing my third-year, homework, papers, and stories fought for my attention.  Sometimes I blew off homework just to write.  Smart me, I know, and yes, it bit me a couple times.  That was when I learned to carry around a notebook strictly dedicated to writing ideas down.  My story journal in a way.  I've filled two notebooks by now and am working on my third.  Never go anywhere without it.  Case in point, it's sitting right here beside me, not that you could see it though.  Just take my word.

     What I mostly wrote about, when I read back upon it now, I can easily see what I was going through, the emotional state I was in.  Writing for me came at the perfect time in my life.  Soon after I started, my best friend and I had a major fight, my relationships became all kinds of screwy, I thought I had a boyfriend (turned out he was just using me), and there were some personal family issues as well.  Lucky me!  But what could I do?  Screaming to the heavens wouldn't help.  Bottling up my frustration would destroy me.  So, when I hid in my room and my story was on my screen, I slipped into a wonderful state of bliss.  I would write and write and write until the early hours of morning.  My frustrations becoming those of my characters.  Their problems were once mine, though slightly different since I clearly am not a vampire with a pet squirrel.  For example, I grew up around horses and I played soccer.  More than a couple of my stories have soccer in them, a few characters play on a fairly regular basis.  Shadows has some equestrian scenes, simply because I watched my sister ride a day before I wrote the scene.  Other tidbits of me in my stories include favorite foods, drinks, sports, habits, even to what kind of car I had driven.  I lose any and every talent I have for originality so I'm like "What closer hair should he have?  Brown is good.  Now, what should they drink?  I'm drinking a mocha, there we go!  My character is now obsessed with coffee!  What are they doing?  Hmm...  Typing on their computer, sending an email?  What about just reading an a book?  Yeah, that'll work."  So very original, right?  We all have those moments where nothing comes to you so your current environment becomes your story.  If I had to write something now, it would be about a girl sitting in a cafe, drinking her green tea, working on her laptop, while being annoyed by the loud group of girls behind her.

     So, I guess if I had to summarize my rant, a little piece of a writer is in their work.  Wait, that's just restating my first sentence to this thing!  How about, your stories reveal more to you than you'd like.  When you write about a character who is down on his luck, having a hard time, even being thrown into a fight, is it because that is how the story is supposed to flow, or because that is how you feel at that moment?  I'm beyond guilty with that.  You can read me like a book in my work!  We all feel love, loss, joy, and anger, but we express them differently.  Where I chose to dive into writing, someone else could hit the gym or chat with their friends.  Outlets help with the frustration.  Which outlet we take depends upon what we feel comfortable with.  To each of my readers, how do you express yourself?  If you write, do you see parts of yourself in your work?  Then again, if you do see yourself, is it a reflection of yourself that you like?  We all know that life isn't all rainbows and unicorns, sunshine and daisies.  So if you see a darker you, it's alright.  I have my dark moments too.  We're all weird in our own little way!

Help Please??

Hello my dear readers!  Are y'all enjoying the short stories I've posted?  My last two were the best of them and Ghost was my favorite.  Short stories aren't my thing, but no harm trying, right!  I personally prefer the longer writings.  My mind works better with expanding ideas.  Personally, I tend to over think situations so that's helpful in some writing situations.  I wanted to let y'all know that I do have some of my work posted on this blog, just above.  See it?  It's up there.  See?  There's Dethroned and Shadows.  Please go look at them.  I really, really, really want feedback!  There's a list of chapters that will continue to grow as time goes by.  I'm even considering posting some more of my work.  Here's a not so well hidden secret of mine, I can't work on just one story.  I typically have three or so going on at once and jump between them.  Call me scatterbrained! If the links don't work, let me know.  I'm even posting the link here for the heck of it.  I will honestly and truly appreciate your help, comments, concerns, critiques, what have you.  I'm willing to return the favor and help you!  Please don't leave me hanging.  Help will be much loved! :)
Dethroned
Shadows

Day Seven, Short Story Challenge - Ghost

     If only I could tell you the things I’ve seen and heard within these walls. Tales told of riches, plots of murder, bids for power, my favorite being from a girl who was in search of her friend who had been taken by her enemies. Oh, the stories I’ve heard. None of which needed my concern. I was only there to do my job. Nothing more than a simple service. For I was just a waiter.
“Sir?” Looking up from the glass in my hand, I eyed him. An elderly gentleman, one I haven’t seen in here before. Since I moved to this godforsaken place, I gave up on attempts to understand my neighbors. Everyone here is the same, but on different levels. Everyone here is a criminal. This man, however, was a criminal of a distinct nature, one that kept to the shadows, keeping his hands clean as others do his work.
“Evening. How may I help you? There is a─”
“Please, spare me your rehearsed greeting.” Placing the glass I had been drying down, I reached for my pen and paper. Since he would not allow me to complete a recitation of what our establishment serves, I would assume he knew what he wanted. “I’m here more for you than the food. Though a stiff drink may be on order.”
“Of course, sir.” Returning the pen and paper to their place in my apron pocket, I reached for a glass and poured him a glass of brandy. One of the finest in our collection, one of the few that hasn’t been shattered by bullets.
“Fine choice my boy.” I nodded slightly and returned to my task of cleaning the glasses. The bartender had left early this evening and I was left to do his dishes. A simple task that I would actually consider enjoyable. It was a slow night and he needed to go home and be with his wife for once. “So, tell me, how’s this position treating you? Well, I presume?”
“It’s an occupation that needed to be filled and I just so happened to fill it.”
“An unanswered answer.” The man grinned. “How about I rephrase my question?” I glanced at him, the glass I was drying continuing to twist around the towel. “Compared to your previous occupation, would you find this one just as exciting?”
My eyes closed for a moment. “This position is suited to my needs.”
“You’re good at avoiding questions.” Placing my glass in its place, I grabbed another from the water, continuing my task. “Just as I would expect from someone with your history.” Again I glanced at him, watching as he took a sip from his brandy. “Let me introduce myself, I’m Arthur Wilkes and I am in need of someone with your talents.”
“You’re looking for a man to wait your tables? I believe you might have better luck elsewhere for I am quite content with my position here.”
“I’m sure you are. But wouldn’t it be more interesting if the Ghost were to make a reappearance.” That was the reason he was here. Searching for a story. Shaking my head slightly, I kept my face neutral while drying the glass. This was nothing but a ploy to find a myth.
“The Ghost for which I assume you’re referring has disappeared.”
“So he would like for us to believe. I know his history, the talents he possesses. Even the missions he completed and disappeared without a trace for only a ghost could enter where he has been.”
“Talented man.” I reached for another glass.
“He is. Over fifty years of work only to vanish. My boy, I believe that you know more about him than you’re telling me.”
“If he were still alive, that would make him near sixty years old. For you to want him to return to his former glory would be far too much to ask of an old man.”
“That is where I believe you come in.” Glancing at him, I wondered how much Mr. Wilkes knew of the Ghost and his talents. The Ghost was once a great assassin, a hired gun for those who were able to find him. No man knew his face and those who did, were found with their throats slit. “Sixty years, that would be too much for one man to accomplish. There had to have been successors and the original Ghost to have retired years ago.” Mr. Wilkes leaned closer, whispering. “My boy, despite your young age, I do have my beliefs about you. Perhaps you would like to come out of hiding and provide a service to a humble old man.” Ah, he believed I am the most recent Ghost.
“Sir, the Ghost is precisely who he is. A ghost, a phantom, something that is myth. Though he did have his run, it is my belief that he has passed. My apologies, Mr. Wilkes, but I cannot help you find someone who isn’t even real.”
“Reality is not the question here. I’ve spent a great deal of resources looking for you. Imagine my surprise to discover this great assassin working in this run down restaurant. I’ll leave my offer with you and give you twenty-four hours to decide.” Pulling a manila envelope from his briefcase, Mr. Wilkes slid it across the counter to me. “I do hope you’ll take my offer.” Finishing off his drink, the man placed some cash on the bar and slid on his coat. “I shall see you soon my friend.” As he walked out, I took the envelope. Curiosity taking its hold. The only ones left were the two men in the far corner, one passed out drunk and the other talking to him. Slipping into the back, I made my way to my apartment upstairs, a small one room that my employer has graciously rented to me in return for my services. Ensuring my windows were closed and blinds shut, I opened the envelope and placed its contents on the table sitting in the middle of my room. Intriguing. First I saw the letter, followed by a few pictures, and a small envelope containing a thousand dollars in cash. Mr. Wilkes was already trying to buy services that I would not provide. The letter then caught my attention.
Mr. Waiter,
As I had explained in our earlier conversation, I believe that the Ghost is very much real, and very much alive and well. You are my link to him because I know you know who he is. Enclosed is an envelope containing $1000 in cash, consider this a down payment; upon completion, the entirety of your payment shall be in the amount of $10,000. There is also a small dossier on the intended target, a Miss Anna White. Should you consider my offer, please meet with me underneath the grieving window’s watch. I do hope that we can become friendly business associates.
-W
I held the picture of the girl, cute, blonde hair, blue eyes, and according to the dossier she was twenty-five, lived within this hellhole, and is associated with one of the local bosses. Associated is not the proper term, the daughter of one of the local crime bosses would be more exact. Why would Wilkes target her? No matter, it was not my place to question. However, returning to a life that I had pushed aside would bring out a darker side on myself. Returning the papers to the manila envelope, I took the money and pushed aside the bedside table, revealing a small trap door. Opening it, I placed the money inside and retrieved my old friends, two pistols and a watch. My eyes glanced at the small book in the safe’s corner, but I kept from taking it. Now was not the time to revisit the past, despite my interest in Mr. Wilkes. Placing my pistols in the holsters under my shirt and placing the watch on my wrist, I returned to my post downstairs. As soon as those two men leave, I too shall.

     Beneath the grieving widow’s watch, a decent description of the peak along the shores where one could look out to sea wishing to see their loved one returning. Many have been lost in the past, thus the peak being known for the grieving widows waiting for their lost husbands. I had since closed the restaurant, changed into something less recognizable, out of the white button-down, black pants, and apron, and into a plain grey shirt, jeans, boots, and long black coat. The wind was whipping wildly and I was grateful that I had my hair cut short recently. I was grateful that the tide was still low, when it rises, any trace of my being here will be washed away. “My boy! Good to see you again.” I straightened from my position leaning against the cliff face to watch him. Mr. Wilkes held his hand out and I shook it. “I take it that you read my letter, lest you wouldn’t have shown.”
“Why do you want the Ghost? From what I read, you want an assassination of a local crime boss’s daughter, correct?”
“Indeed. You see,” his eyes turned toward the water, “I have tried to give this task to others, all have failed. This needs to be done and unfortunately, the Ghost is the only one that can break through the White’s defenses.” He held out another manila envelope. Taking it, I opened and began reading. It was a blueprint of a home, one with every type of security; electric fences, cameras, guards, reinforced walls, panic rooms, even went so far as to install a system to vent poison through the vents. “Can the Ghost get through?” I nodded. “Is he willing to take my offer?”
“Ten thousand up front, another ten thousand once the job is complete.” I slid the papers back in the envelope and tucked it away under my coat.
“I see. His talents are not cheap.” Fighting not to roll my eyes, I crossed my arms. “It’s a deal then. I expect results quickly.” His hand disappeared into his coat, only to pull out a white envelope. “I expected the price to rise. Here’s the first ten thousand.” I took it. “When job is completed, I’ll find you.”

     I didn’t like the looks of the building. Several hours of observation revealed enough, but it was the past few days that gave me the crucial information. Around eight pm, the girl would return to the house, her father arriving around an hour or two later. A code was used to get in through the front gate as well as the front doors. There was always someone on every corner and another between. Two men were in constant motion, circling the compound. It was difficult to see inside, but using the blueprints, I figured that I could enter through a side door that had a ten second window where no one watched, provided I disable the camera. The best plan, however, was not entering the compound at all, but rather the vehicle the girl was in before they arrived. Now, I sat hidden in the tree’s leaves outside of the girl’s school. Another few minutes and she would leave. Two men were waiting for her, the driver and a guard. This was going to be easy. With the silencer on my pistol, I readied to drop from the tree when the door to the school opened. The girl stepped out, laughing with another girl who I would guess is her friend. They said their goodbyes and she slid into the backseat of the car. As they drove away, I jumped out of the tree and commandeered a nearby motorbike. The helmet covered my face, perfect, so when I sped down the road and slowed next to the car, the guard wouldn’t know who I was. He had a second between noticing me and me pulling the trigger. The driver jumped, startled by my attack. Quickly, I leapt from the bike to the trunk of the car. Bashing out the driver’s window, I held on as the car swerved. A quick shot, I reached in, opened the door, pulled the driver out, and took his place. One hand on the wheel, I pointed my gun at the girl. Her hands were covering her head and she appeared to be genuinely afraid. One shot, she would be dead, the job completed. Instead of firing, I turned around to drive. I wanted to know why Wilkes wanted her dead.

     Stopping the car, I opened the back door, pulling the girl out. By now, she was crying. Why wasn’t she fighting back? We were under a bridge, the water in the drainage stream rushing by. Pointing my gun at her, I readied the shot. Quick, easy, hardly a challenge. Then her blue eyes turned toward me. “Please, don’t kill me. I don’t want to die.” My jaw tightened. If I wasn’t wearing the motorcycle helmet, she would’ve noticed my reaction. I froze. The wind around us blew the hair around her face, whipping it across her skin. This was no different from any other mission I’ve accepted. So why was I hesitating on pulling the trigger? “Please…” Tears fell from her cheeks. Shit. My finger moved from the trigger and I pointed the barrel upward before holstering it. Grabbing her arm, I dragged her up the embankment, toward the town. Once in the first alley, I turned to her. Anna was still crying and I couldn’t stand it. My hand clapped over her mouth and she understood. Be quiet. What to do now? I couldn’t take her to my apartment, but I couldn’t let her go anyway. Never leave a witness. I should just kill her and be done with it. Yet, something in the back of my mind was screaming at me to take her away. After some mental kicking, I eventually wove our way through the town, keeping ourselves hidden. We entered through the back door and I led her upstairs. It was stupid of me to bring her here, but my apartment was the only place that I could keep secure. Locking the door behind us, I watched her. She stood there, slowly looking around before returning her gaze to me. Only question I had was whether or not to remove the helmet. “Why bring me here?” Here came the questions. If I remembered anything, it was to never answer. Never reveal anything. Keep all details hidden. There is a reason I am known as the Ghost and this would be my undoing if I opened my mouth. Then again, she was already in my apartment, if she left, Anna could tell her father where to find me. Instead of answering, I leaned against the door. When would Wilkes come back? If I kept Anna hidden, and quiet, I could probably slip under the radar and leave this town. Great, it was time to leave again. It was a good thing that I had very few belongings. Anna sat on my bed, twisting her hands together, nervous. My fingers tapped the handle of the pistol on my left hip. Part of me wanted to get rid of her, part of me said we should run. Who am I to decide this girl’s fate? I’m just a hired gun, paid to do someone else’s bidding. I’ve been paid, I should kill her. I have no moral obligations. A part of what makes the idea of Ghost so dangerous. There was no honor. It was no matter who the target was, innocent or not, the Ghost would dispose of them. Morality was a detail that I shed years ago while learning from my predecessor, the third Ghost. It was how we lived in this world. The acts we’ve committed would cause a normal person to come to hate themselves. My last kill before today was just over two years ago, then I decided to take some time off, to hide while the fear of my actions lessened. “Excuse me?” My attention broke from my thoughts, focusing on Anna. She seemed to have collected herself. “I’m guessing it’s pointless to ask if I may leave, but can you at least tell me what you want?”
“Why would someone want you dead?” She cringed. The helmet had muffled my voice, but she had heard me clearly.
“Um…” Rubbing her arm, Anna looked uncomfortable. “My father is the head of the White family, one of the two major crime families in this town. I overheard my father talking to one of his men that a third family was going to try to overthrow us. If my family didn’t have a successor, it would be difficult to have any claim to power.” I see now. Wilkes was involved with this third family. From what I knew of the crime families, White was older, more engrained in this town’s history, and was primarily concerned with drug trade trough recently expanding to include weapons.
“Why didn’t you fight me when I killed those men?”
“I didn’t have a weapon and the one the guard beside had jammed before I could fire it at you.” I frowned, even though she couldn’t see it, Anna felt the heat of my glare on her. “I didn’t know what to do.” There was luck on my side tonight as well. Amusing. Then I realized what I could do with her. My mentor took me in when I was a mere child, setting me free when I turned twenty. Anna needed the training, something more than knowing how to shoot a gun.
“I was hired to kill you.” There was the glimmer of fear in your eyes. “However, I am willing to hide you from them.” She brought her feet up to rest on my bed and wrapped her arms around her knees. “I’m more curious about this than I should be. So, if you want to live, you will do everything that I say, when I say it, understand?” Anna nodded, her eyes returning to me. “Do anything that I do not approve of,” I pulled out a pistol, aiming it at her. Anna immediately tensed, a wave of fear passing over her. One shot is all it will take.
“I understand!”
“Good.” Returning the pistol to its place, I decided to remove the helmet. I wouldn’t be able to work downstairs with it. As it slid over my head, I swore I heard Anna inhale sharply. My eyes narrowed on her. Anna’s feet had returned to the floor, but she looking down, cheeks reddening. It was going to be a long night. Hostage-taking was not something I have experience in.

     I had let Anna sleep in my bed while I slept in a rocking chair that the apartment owner had left. Despite it being an uncomfortable wooden form, I did manage to get some sleep, ever hour waking to check on Anna. Come nine am, she was still asleep and I was taking advantage of the still dark room. Working late then observation since early morning wore me down. Click. My eyes flew open as I pulled my gun, aiming at the source of the noise. Anna stood frozen, eyes wide, hand moving away from the door handle. She was trying to run. Narrowing my eyes, I pulled the hammer back. “Sorry!” She scurried back, her remaining in my crosshairs. “I didn’t…”
“What?” I stood.
“I didn’t think that I’d wake you.”
“You were wrong. Sit.” Anna kept her eyes on me as she moved back to the bed. Before she sat, I brought my gun down. This girl was going to be a handful. Perhaps I should just tie her to the bed while I work? Not a bad idea actually, if I had handcuffs.
“Before you do what you’re thinking, please let me explain.” What was there to explain? She was trying to leave. “When we came in last night, I noticed that we’re above a restaurant. There’s no food in here, so I thought I’d go find something and bring it up.” Food? That was her excuse? Good one since she was right, I had nothing to eat up here.
“Don’t move.” Tucking the gun behind my back, I grabbed a coat, and went out the door. If she wanted food, damnit, I was going to ensue she wouldn’t leave. My boss wouldn’t be happy with missing food, but I was low on options at the moment. Once I was down the stairs, I heard someone by the bar. Coming out of the back, I saw the bartender cleaning.
“Morning.”
“Morning. You’re early.”
Samuel shrugged. He was the bartender, but our boss had hired him as move of a guard. The body he possessed could easily throw out the rowdiest of patrons. “Wife has some friends over and if you know women, a bar fight is where I would rather be.” He looked me over. “Rare to find you out of uniform, what’s the occasion?”
“I had to run out earlier for an errand.” I grabbed two glasses. Samuel raised an eyebrow. “I’ll return them before we open.” Returning to the back, I grabbed what I needed for sandwiches. Anna was in no position to be picky.

     “What is that?” Anna was staring at the clothes in my closet. There were only four clean uniforms hanging and a few other street clothes. Anything else, related to my other activities, were hidden well enough. Grabbing a shirt, I slid it on, Anna’s eyes watching me as I buttoned it closed. Her gaze was becoming intolerable. “What do you do anyway? You know, besides killing and kidnapping?” I threw a glare at her. “Sorry.” Earlier, I informed her to keep quiet about our situation, just to be quiet in general. I wasn’t a talkative person to begin with, so her attempts at conversation were met with resistance. Grabbing the apron, I finished getting ready. “I get it.” My eyes turned to her. “You’re a waiter downstairs.”
“I am.” Tying the apron, I turned to the table. It would be difficult to conceal my weapons, but I would rather have them with me than near her. “Stay here. Do not leave, do not open the windows. You will wait until I return.”
She pouted. Clearly she did not like rules. “Fine.”
“Remember, if I disapprove of─”
“Anything, I know, you’ll kill me. I get it.” While straightening my tie, I watched her. Anna was bored, that much was obvious. I didn’t know if I could leave her for the next eight hours alone. Living on my own, I’ve seen no desire for relationships. Each day I wake, read, work, then sleep. Here, Anna was reaching out to me. She was one who communicated. Constantly pressuring me to open. To be honest, the thought of shooting her to get some peace has crossed my mind, multiple times. She kept asking for my name, what I do, where I lived, what places I’ve seen. Now, she knew the answer to one, what I do, I’m a waiter. “Can I go downstairs to get dinner?” My glare leveled on her. “So, no?”
“No.”
“Can you bring me something?”
Sighing, I pinched my brow. This is what I get for sparing her. This girl is my own persona demon. Is this what I get as punishment for my deeds? If God is real, He has a cruel sense of humor. “If my employer sees you, you and I will be dead.” She sat back on the bed. “I’m expecting him soon, once I discover his intentions, I will decide what to do with you.” Anna’s arms folded across her chest. The look on her face, it was a mixture of fear, anxiety, and hope, as slight as it may be. There was this voice in the back of my mind, nagging me. My instinct had become one where I was to kill to protect myself. Kill, hide, and kill again. That’s what my life became. Emotions shed, primal reactions risen only to be molded into a weapon. This stupid girl, I didn’t shoot her when I should’ve, I brought her here, now, I’m standing in front of her, my finger under her chin forcing her to look at me. “Behave for me, Anna.” Something flashed in her eyes, something I didn’t recognize.

     It had been a week since I had met Mr. Wilkes. Tonight, near closing, was when I saw him again, walking through the door, taking the same seat he had then. While he ordered a drink, I was wiping a table clean from the mess the diners left. These ruffians hardly knew how to use a fork, it seemed. This town was full of low-life criminals. Very few professionals call this place home. Without saying a word, we recognize each other, give the respect deserved, and the space desired. That was a reason I was still working here. It was a small restaurant. Frequented by the few I respect, though far between. Mr. Wilkes, however, was merely a curiosity. “Evening, Mr. Waiter.” I nodded at him as I returned to the front after placing the dirty dishes in the kitchen sinks. “Your boy did well.”
“So it would seem.” Taking a towel from the small pile under the sink, I began wiping away the water rings left on the counter. News travels quickly in this town. Earlier, there were at least three conversations about Mr. White’s missing daughter who most have presumed dead. The White’s had begun their retaliation. Not only searching for Anna’s body and her killer, but also tightening their hold on what they call their claim. I had seen two men walk in earlier, shaking down a dealer. Of course, I kept my distance, only to clean up their mess after the men left.
“His final payment is with me. Would you be so kind as to give it to our dear friend?”
I glanced up at him. Mr. Wilkes was far from being called a friend. Yet, the envelope he held out to me was tempting. I took it and hid it in my apron. “Of course.”
“Now, I would like to make a deal with our Ghost.” His voice had lowered since the bartender was still lurking nearby and the few patrons remaining still needed another drink to be completely oblivious to the world around them. “I have a few more assignments I would like to have him complete for me. The payments will be well worth his time.”
“I’m sure he will consider your offer.” Resting my arms on the bar, I leaned closer, I too lowering my voice. “What is the objective?”
“That, my boy, is a topic for a different man. All you need to know is that the balance of this town is going to shift drastically. I suggest you align yourself with those who can pay for your talents.” Again with the assumption, though I would gladly take his money. “That,” his finger pointed at me, “is a look of a bought man. I certainly look forward to doing business.”
As he paid for his drink and left, I noticed Samuel watching me. However, he kept his thoughts to himself. It wasn’t a stretch for our patrons to use one of us as a therapist. Wilkes most likely appeared to be another soul seeking an ear to listen. Myself, I had less than a half hour before my shift was over and the patrons were to be gone.

     Returning to my room, I noticed Anna had found a few books that I kept in my bedside table and was reading in the rocking chair. When her eyes looked up, I locked the door behind me and carried the dinner the chef makes for me to the table. “Entertained?”
“Yep! What’s that smell?” Tonight I had been given a burger with a bowl of soup. Our chef was a good man, always taking care of Samuel and I. Myself, I was thankful for the hot meals he provided. Seeing Anna’s pleading eyes, I reluctantly caved. Cutting the burger in half, I gave her a share. “Thank you! I’m starving.” I’m sure you are. After training, I’ve conditioned my body to eat little yet work hard. Skipping a couple meals wasn’t enough to kill me. She, however, had to eat for every meal.
“There’s a war brewing.” Her eyes stared back at me. “My employer wants my help.”
“More people to kill?”
“Likely.”
“Oh.” Her gaze dropped to her half eaten burger. “I guess this means you’ve made a decision about me?”
“Yes.” Removing my tie, I hung it up on its hanger. “You’re useless.” Her shoulders fell. “You can’t defend yourself in a fight and are in desperate need of help.” She looked up, brow slightly furrowed, confused. “I’m willing to help train you.” Her eyes widened slightly and I turned to face the closest, removing my uniform’s shirt. “However, if at any point, I see you as a failure, unsalvageable, I will not hesitate to get rid of you.” Grabbing a clean shirt, I pulled it over my head and returned to face her now standing. “Prove to me that you have a life worth saving, one that can rise up to lead your family effectively.” A smile grew on her lips, a fire sparking in those blue eyes of hers. “Are you willing to call me master until I deem your training complete?”
“I will.” Her grin broadened. “Only if I know who is the one training me.”
“Very well.” My cold dark eyes met hers. “You, Miss White, are lucky enough to have the infamous Ghost training you.”

Day Six, Short Story Challenge - Fallen Stranger

     What the hell? What was that? Better yet, who was that? I had looked out my back window based on a feeling and I saw someone run across my backyard. Living in the middle of nowhere, I knew no one would have been back there, let alone anywhere near me. Closest neighbor is well over a few miles down the road and if anyone visited, they would have knocked. This person though, they had run straight into my barn. My dog hadn’t noticed, of course he’s about as useful as a sack of potatoes. Max was dead asleep on the rug as I walked outside. Flashlight in one hand, I carried my rifle with the other. Never hurt to be prepared, especially when you live alone. I’ve only had to threaten someone with my gun once, haven’t seen them since. Good thing too, because if my ex showed up drunk again, he would be carried off my property on a stretcher, or in a body bag. Yeah, I attract the weirdos. Lucky me. Sliding the barn door open with my foot, I held my rifle up and aimed with the flashlight inside. “Who’s there?” The light travelled from stall to stall, along the rafters, and to the pile of hay in the corner. “Don’t move!” There was a body lying on the hay. The short black hair was my first clue, at least my ex wasn’t back, but the bright red gashes running down his back terrified me. “Oh my God! You’re hurt!” That sounded like the understatement of the year. When his arm moved, I saw smaller marks covering the rest of his skin. What happened to him? It looked like he had gotten into a bar fight then thrown down a ravine to be tackled by a bear. With my gun at my side, I approached him. His hand shot toward me, my feet freezing in place. Holy crap he moved fast! While holding his hand out, he hid his face from me. “It’s ok.” His muscles tensed and I saw his black eyes, narrowed on my weapon. Placing my gun on the ground, I prayed that it wasn’t a stupid move. “I want to help.” When his arm dropped, his body fell toward me. Crap! He’d passed out. Now how was I supposed to get him inside? The guy was twice my size! Yeah, I may have been five and a half feet, but he was easily over six and half, closer to seven, and he was ripped. What could bring down such a strong man? Taking some rope, I tied it to my rifle so I could carry it on my back. Thankfully, I had a wheelbarrow and managed to get the guy in it. After a solid half hour, I had him face down on my couch. Max sniffing his hand. “Back off boy, give him some air.” Max’s tongue flopped out. Of course he would be amused. Grabbing a towel and a bowl of warm water, I pulled up a chair, and started cleaning those gashes on his back. They were huge, going across his shoulder blades and half way down his back. Poor guy. What could’ve happened to him? I did notice that his hair wasn’t black, but rather brown, and very dirty. Wiping the towel down his cheek, I smiled, his features were so sharp that he was gorgeous despite the layer of grime that was now passed on to my couch.

     Hearing him groan, I pulled my arm back. “Hey? You alright?” His eyes shot to me and he quickly twisted to face me. Holding my hands up, I showed that I wasn’t armed, except with a now red towel. Max had his tail wagging. Stupid dog would never be any kind of help. The man glanced between Max, the room, and me. My wonderfully unkept cabin living room; remind me to clean everything later. My cabin was small, a living room that had the kitchen along the side and two other doors, one to my bedroom, the other to the bathroom. Small, quaint, but all I need.
“Who are you?”
And he speaks and a beautiful voice did he have, rich, smooth, so perfect it surprised me. “Um, hi?” His brow furrowed. “Oh, Jessica. I’m Jessica. And, um, you ok?” I held the towel between us and his eyes glanced at it. “I was trying to help clean you up and, what are you doing?” He had sat up, rubbing the back of his neck, and rolling his head before standing.
“Where am I?” He walked over to the window, closing the blinds, repeating for the others in the room and kitchen.
“Middle of nowhere Montana. Great Falls is a good two hours west along the river.” Tightening the hold on the towel, I followed him as he walked though my cabin and into my room. “What are you doing?”
“Do you have a place where I can wash up?”
My eyebrow rose. “A bathroom?”
“Yes, that.”
Weird. I pointed to the door next to my bedroom. “In there.” Nodding he walked past me into the bathroom, again looking around. Did he get a bump on the head? He was acting as if he had never seen a bathroom before. “Need help?”
His brow furrowed again as he looked from the sink to the shower curtain. “How do you bathe? The basin is too small.”
“Basin? Dude, it’s called a shower.” I pointed. “Here.” Stepping around him, I turned the knob. “Left for hot water, right for cold. Push the handle down to turn it off. Got it?” He just stared at me. “And here’s an extra towel.” It was difficult maneuvering around him in my already small bathroom. So when I opened the bathroom closet door, it felt like I had trapped us. His massive frame filled most of the already too small space and it was nerve-wracking how close he was. Grabbing one a towel, I put it on the toilet next to the shower. “I’ll let you be then.” And I left, desperately needing air. Again, what the hell? Ever since he woke, I’ve felt in awe of him. There was something different about him. Hell, I still didn’t even know his name! Stupid. I should at least know who’s wandering around my home. Max trotted over, his floppy tongue lick my face as I pet him. “Love you too boy.” I heard the shower curtain sliding around and shook my head. “Going to be a late night.” Going to my kitchen, I set myself to work; if I was to have a guest, best be nice. There was already some tea and juice in the fridge, but what to eat? Fruit? Or was he more of a carnivore? Maybe just snacks? Screw it. I’ll slice up some apples and if he doesn’t like them, more for me.

     On my third apple, I heard the bathroom door open. Looking up, I dropped my knife onto the cutting board. “Holy…” My hands flew to my eyes. He had stepped out of the bathroom without the towel wrapped around his waist.
“Do you have clothes I may borrow?”
I nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll get you something. Oh Lord…” Keeping one hand up, I blocked him from my vision as I wandered into my room. Was he blind to how good he looked? Because I certainly appreciated it. The only things I could find was an oversize sweater I liked to wear during the colder months and a pair of sweatpants that my ex had left. They’ll have to do. He was waiting outside my door. Smiling and keeping my eyes up, I handed him the clothes. “Get dressed.” Then I shut him in my room. Yeah, definitely going to be a long night. When he came out, I was relieved he didn’t need help.
“Thank you.”
I shrugged. “How’s your back? Do I need to bandage it?”
“It’s fine.” The way his face fell as he spoke said otherwise.
“Hungry?” I picked up the plate of sliced apples.
“Yes, thank you.” Taking the plate, he ate quickly. Okay then, very hungry. Grabbing a glass, I filled it with iced tea and took a seat on my couch. As I watched him, I wondered. Who was he? Where did he come from? How did he end up here of all places? Holding the last apple slice, he walked toward me, sitting on the couch. “Here.” He held the apple to me. “I neglected to leave more for you.”
“It’s fine. You were hungry. I cut them for you.” Pulling the piece closer, he nodded slightly before eating it. “I never asked, but what’s your name?” Crossing my legs under me, I watched him expectantly. As if his next words were more important than I would realize.
“Michael.”
I nodded before taking a sip of my drink. That was anti-climatic, but a name is more than what I had before. “Can I ask why you were in my barn?”
“I would prefer you not ask.”
“Ok… then what happened?” His brow furrowed. Placing my glass on the table, I reached over and held his hand. His eyes focused on my hand covering his. Whatever was going through his mind eluded me, especially since he was a blank slate most of the time. “Take all the time you need to recover. My home, as small as it may be, is your home.”
Turning his hand over, Michael’s fingers closed around mine. “Thank you very much, Jessica.” I smiled, wanting to believe that he was getting comfortable around me, not counting the incident earlier, that was just awkward.

     The following morning, I woke to the wonderful smell of coffee. Hmm… coffee. Coffee? I sat up. I know I didn’t set my coffee maker. Jumping out of bed, I swung the door open. Surprised that Michael was standing in the kitchen, mug in hand, and my French-press with freshly pressed coffee sitting on the counter. Last night was real? And here he was, standing in my kitchen. It smelled so amazing too. “I think I made it right. You do like coffee?”
Nodding, I stepped closer. When was the last time I used my French-press? Laziness had eventually grabbed me and I’ve used my coffeemaker instead. “Yeah. When did you get up?” I glanced out the window. The sun was just peering above the horizon, which I couldn’t see very well because of all the trees, but after a few years here, I’ve learned a few things, thankfully. Then I glanced at Max, who was comfortably sleeping in front of the fireplace.
“Earlier.” And another clear answer. Great. I hope this wasn’t going to be a thing with him. Michael did look better in the sunlight though. His skin was nearly glowing and I really wanted to run my fingers through his hair, which looked much better now that it was clean. Noticing my staring, he looked at me, raising an eyebrow. I quickly distracted myself by turning and opening the fridge. First thing I saw was the bowl of berries I had picked a couple days ago. Perfect. I had eggs as well and bacon! Score! Good breakfast! “How long have you lived here?” Random question.
“Since I graduated high school. My father inherited this cabin from his father and I’ve always loved it. We would come out here during the summers and he taught me the tools of survival and living off the land. I, however, had internet installed and the electricity, but I still love being in nature. Since I’m taking online classes, I don’t need to leave my isolated paradise. But that’s the long answer,” I chuckled awkwardly, “I guess I’ve been here about five years now.” Grabbing a pan, I turned on the stove. “What about you? Where are you from?” Michael stayed quiet, his eyes focused out the window. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” I smiled. The view from this window looked out toward the river. With the sun still low and rising, there was a glow that made this place ethereal.
“It is.” He looked at his drink, a distant memory playing in his eyes. Deciding not to question, I tasked myself with cooking the bacon and eggs. “May I?” Sucking in a breath, I tried not to jump when his arms came around me to take the pan’s handle in one and my hand holding the spatula in the other. His body was pressed against my back and I didn’t want to push him away. The warmth radiating from him was welcoming. However, the knock on my door demanded my attention.

     As I slid out of Michael’s hold, I noticed how tense he had become. His hand held my shoulder, stopping me. Slowly shaking his head, I guessed Michael didn’t want me to answer. Shrugging his hand off, I turned. Being out here, the only visitors I had were the few people I cared about and the rare lost hiker, or hunter. If someone needed help, I’d help. When my hand covered the door handle, I heard Max growling. I shushed him, but he stood, trotting over to me. Fine, I’ll let him greet our guest. Opening the door slightly, I smiled. “Morning.” The two men standing there didn’t seem too friendly and my smiled faded. One had his arms crossed and his blonde hair was disheveled. The other had a grin plastered on his face that made me a bit nervous. Plus, for being out in the woods, they were surprisingly clean. Quickly glancing behind them and seeing no car, warning bells started going off. “Can I help you?
The man’s eyes glanced at Max then focused on me. “A friend of ours went missing. We were wondering if you’d seen him.”
My brow furrowed. “What does he look like?”
“Tall, brown hair, strong. His name is Michael.” Yep, warning bells now screaming sirens. “We need to find him quickly.”
“Well, if I see him, I’ll let you know. Is there a number I can call you at?” Something about these men were beginning to scare me and I wanted them gone. Let alone them showing up asking for Michael, who hasn’t even been here for a full day.
The blonde seemed irritated and his scowl hasn’t disappeared, but the other reached out to give me a business card. “Here you go. Listen, he’s dangerous, so if you see him, don’t approach, and call me immediately. We wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”
“Ok. Thank you Mr.,” I looked at the card, “Lucas?” He nodded. Weird, there was no last name listed on the card. I felt my eyebrow raise. They were confusing and creepy.
“We’ll see you soon, Miss.” He smiled and they both turned to leave.

     After closing the door, I stared at Michael, who was off to the side, out of sight from the door. Holding his finger to his lips, he told me to stay quiet. Shrugging, I went back to the bacon and eggs, which were about to burn. Max sat by the door, staring at it. Questions began swirling around me. Who were those guys? Was Michael really dangerous? What were the odds that three random people would find my property? Turning off the stove, I piled the bacon and eggs on a plate and berries in a bowl. Two glasses of juice and it was time to eat. I whistled and Max came over. Tossing him a piece of bacon, he was a happy dog. “Jessica, don’t believe them.” Michael had been watching me. Certainly my thoughts read easily across my face.
“Well, you did just show up.” I tried to smile, lighten my mood.
Running his hand through his hair, Michael stepped closer. “I still want you to believe me, not them. I’m not your enemy, Jessica.”
“Ok then,” I sat at the table, fork in hand, I pointed it at him, “Spill. Why were you hiding in my barn?”
Sitting across from me, Michael rubbed his face. “I was running from them.”
“What about your back? How did you get those cuts?” The sympathy filled my face. “You doing better?”
“I’m fine. Those,” his brow furrowed, “Those are something you shouldn’t worry about.” His head tilted, his focus going elsewhere. Taking a bite of my food, I watched him. Michael seemed more in tune with the world around him. There was something special that made him unique. Max’s head perked up. “Is there a back door?”
“No, just the front. Why?” Grabbing my hand, he pulled me toward my bedroom, the door closing just as I heard wood splinter and break. Before I could protest, Michael’s hand covered my mouth and I heard them. Two sets of feet moving around my living room. Lucas said something, but the exact words eluded me. I looked to Michael, then Max who had his teeth bared at the door. Silently moving to my window, he slid it open, helping me climb out with him following.
“Michael!” I froze, turning to see Lucas’ form in one of my living room windows. Michael’s hold on my wrist nearly knocked me off balance when he pulled me into a run. Whatever Lucas and his friend wanted with Michael, Michael wanted nothing to do with them. I heard glass break and my first thought went to me cleaning up their mess and them not paying for whatever damages they caused to my property. Geez, I must be more like my father than I had realized. Michael, however, had us running through the forest, dodging trees and branches. From what I knew of the area, he was making his way toward a waterfall down river. Hearing leaves crunch behind us made me run faster. Whoever they were and the fact Michael was running, I was certain I didn’t want to be caught by Lucas. “Michael! Get back here!” The voice was deeper, meaner, almost demonic. Michael’s hold tightened briefly. My heart was racing, both from fear and a sever lack in exercise. If we got away, I was going to make it a point to run more. Trees cleared and I saw the cliff. Oh hell no! I slammed my feet into the ground, forcing Michael and I to stop.
A quick glance behind us and Michael, wrapped his arms around me. “I need you to trust me.”
“Um… what?” Picking me up, he ran for the edge and jumped. I screamed. This was it, we were dead, so very dead. Splash. Water? Water! The waterfall! I was too scared to notice the falls and remember the pool at its base. Michael kept hold of me and swam, surfacing behind the crashing water. There was cave here? Cool! Gasping for air, I looked out. The entrance was small, covered by the water. We could still see out, but everything was distorted. I looked around. The cave stretched back a good ten or fifteen feet, enough to hide us. When my eyes landed on Michael, I let a few questions fly. “What the hell was that? Who are they? What are you? Are you insane?” His hand clapped over my mouth, silencing me. I heard them nearby and saw movement along the water’s edge. My jaw tightened, there was no way I was going to talk now. We waited, still as stone.

     It took a good while, but Michael believed they were gone, his hand dropped from my mouth and I heard him sigh. “You alright?” I nodded. “Good.” His arms tightened around me. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you they would come.”
Leaning back, I looked up at him. “Who are you, Michael?”
“I’m an angel, Jessica, and those were demons.” My eyebrows shot up, surprised. Ok, I just entered the Twilight Zone. Angels and demons, they don’t exist. “Think about it, please. The marks on my back you saw, their voices yelling at us. I didn’t want you placed in a dangerous situation knowing what I was, for that, I was wrong. I see that I should’ve told you sooner.” His eyes stared through the water.
“So you’re Michael? Like the Michael?”
He chuckled. “No, I’m not the Michael. I’m just a humble angel who fell from heaven.”
“Holy crap.” He gave me a funny look. “Sorry! I shouldn’t talk like that, should I?”
“I’m not going to say anything about it. As to what’s happening. I believe we should stay here a little while longer.” Nodding, I agreed. I needed the time to process what I just heard. Michael, an angel, and the other two, demons. So, since Michael said he fell from heaven, I guess that meant he’s a fallen angel. Then where does that leave me? I’m just a girl and her dog living in the middle of nowhere. Max must still be back at my cabin, if not, hopefully he would be nearby when I returned. Dog may be useless, but he was still my friend. My home was peaceful, then last night happened. Whatever was ahead when we leave our hiding place, I could only hope that Michael and I can overcome it. If I had my rifle, I could go all sniper on those demons. Until then, holding on to Michael and his arms wrapped around me was enough.

Day Five, Short Story Challenge - Dark Shadow

     He’s always there, waiting, beckoning, taunting. “Come,” he calls. That’s all I ever hear from him. “Come.” A whisper in my ear. I never try to see him. He’s always at the edge of my vision, always there, but just out of my sight. “Come.” I cringed. I believe that I’m the only one who hears him, sees him. That dark shadow that’s creeping just out of reach.
“Miss?” I inhaled sharply before realizing it was just the man at the register. Blinking, I took my change, grabbed my bag, mumbled a thank you, and hurried out the door. The clerk was just another person, not him. I’m too paranoid and walking home didn’t ease my nerves. It was difficult to keep my eyes forward when I could feel him watching.
“Come.” Don’t cringe. Don’t cringe.
“Risa!” I flinched. “Sorry.” I relaxed the moment I saw Brian. He was an old friend and lived near my apartment, so we often run into each other.
“Brian, hi.”
“What are you up to?”
Clutching my bag tighter, I smiled. “More books.”
“You and your books. Haven’t you read them all by now?” I smiled and shook my head. He’s the only person I felt comfortable around. “Well, I guess there’s always new books being written. But any who, movie night at your place tonight?”
“Um, sure. Come by around six?”
“Perfect. I’ll see ya then!” Brian winked as he walked away, waving.

     Once home, I put my new books on the table. My bookshelf was overstuffed and probably ready to collapse soon anyway. Some quick cleaning, throwing take-out boxes away, and small vacuuming, I decided the place was clean enough. Settling on the couch, I opened one of my new books, only to instantly shut it. “Come.” The shadow was back. It was always lurking. Usually reaching out when I was alone. Reading books sometimes helped. While my mind was away in an author’s words, I would lose track of the world I lived in. His voice fading away. Today, it seemed stronger, deeper, more consuming. Glancing at the clock, I prayed the six would come sooner, it was only three. “Soon, my child.” My back locked dead straight. He said something different. Nerves were standing on end, firing through every cell, sending me into near hyperventilation. I didn’t want to know what was coming. All I wanted was a night with Brian, a good movie with a good friend. I would do anything to have the shadow leave me. Why was it even following me to begin with? Knock, knock, knock. I jumped, squealing slightly.
“Risa?” Pulling the pillow off my head, I stared at the door, then the clock. Hours had passed, far too quickly. Another knock and I was up, opening the door, and giving Brian one of the biggest hugs I’d ever given a person. “Good to see you too.” Stepping back, I welcomed him. “So, there’s something I need to tell you.” I don’t like surprises and it felt like this was going to be a big one. Taking my hand, he led me to my couch. Once I sat down, I tensed. The shadow was back.
“Soon.”
Brian held my hand tighter. “I’m leaving.”
“What?”
“I want you to come with me.” His smile was small, sad.
“What? Where? Better question, why?” I had knots twisting in my stomach.
Brian looked at our hands. “My father wants me to go home. I’ve already spent too much time here as it is.” My confusion grew. He never spoke of home or his father. Last time I brought them up, his fists clenched and he quickly changed the subject to the weather. “There’s something else. You’re supposed to come with me.”
“Why?” Now I was being overly cautious.
“My father, he…” His jaw tightened and I saw his eyes flick toward the corner. My heart nearly stopped. He was over there, watching. Could Brian see him? No, only I could. “He’s a demon.” My hands let go of his. Did I just hear him correctly? “And years ago, I chose you to be my bride someday.” Ok, he was crazy. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know he would be following you.” Crap! I slid back on my couch, away from him. “Risa, please!” Holding his arms toward me, Brian appeared genuinely concerned. But if he was the son of a demon, and it was his father following me, what was I supposed to do? I had believed that the shadow wanted me to go with him and I resisted. Brian’s hands rested on my shoulders. “I’ll protect you, Risa. I won’t let anyone else hurt you.” My skin grew cold. My vision darkening. My heart racing faster. “Come with me Risa.” That was it. My eyes tightened and I felt everything fade away. The shadow following me for years has finally received what it wants. Brian’s arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer to him. I felt tears falling down my cheeks. “You’ll be with me. You know that I’ll stand with you.” That was my only comfort. I knew Brian. I’ve known him for years. He’s attentive, protective, and always there when I needed something. So when I opened my eyes to the burning landscape, it was Brian that I held onto. If I was going to live with a demon behind me, I was going to hold onto the one person I could trust, even if he did hide his heritage from me.
“Don’t leave me Brian.”
“I won’t, Risa. I will never leave you.”