Author Archives: Tyrek Showels

Just a Dream

     The television screen flickered wildly, as Ben scrolled haphazardly through streaming services. It was always hard to find a new show to watch, but he was determined to do just that. Camille never really liked the kinds of shows he watched. Pain filtered through his fingers as he stood flicking through sitcoms, dramas, and documentaries so fast his head began to spin, the colors blurring together in a tapestry of boredom and disappointment. He didn’t know what the shows were, but he knew none of them were right. Nothing was right. 

“Just pick something already,” Camille chided from the couch, “You’re not getting any younger”

The flickering slowed as Ben landed on a sitcom. An old sitcom, about dating, break ups, love, and friendships. He hated those shows. They were fake. So painfully fake. Camille seemed delighted by the choice however, so reluctantly he pressed play.

A laugh track permeated the air as Ben sat next to Camille on the couch. They watched as the people on screen talked, and laughed. A chorus of laughter  accompanied their every movement. The laughing was incessant, and Ben knew nothing could possibly be that funny. He sighed, at least Camille enjoyed it, he thought so anyway, she never spoke as he leaned his head to lay on her shoulder.

He was falling. He must have missed her shoulder, as the air streaming past, roared in his ears. The arm of the couch approached quickly, as his eyes widened in fear. 

His head hit the side of the couch with a thud. Pain shaking his senses fully awake. Rubbing his neck he searched for Camille, but he knew he wouldn’t find her. She had left. Disappeared. Just like she did every night.

Why does this keep happening to me?

She would be back though, Ben knew. She always came back. Ben pulled his blanket close, and let the cold glare of the TV wash over him, as raucous laughter filled his empty apartment. 

She’ll be back

Ben came home from work the same time he always did. At least he thought so, although he couldn’t really ever remember leaving. Did he even have a job anymore? He didn’t know.

Ben laid down on the bed, and stared at the ceiling, letting his eyes drift out of focus.

“You can’t keep doing this,”

Ben looked over to see Camille lying next to him.

The tinkering of a piano filled the room, as Ben walked into the living room, to see her, breathtaking and beautiful, standing on the stage. 

The lights dimmed as a spotlight illuminated her glittery red dress. Like a scene from a movie. The kind of movie with cheap beer, and cigarettes. The kind with wanted heroes, and misunderstood villains.

Sunday is gloomy

My hours are slumberless

Dearest the shadows

I live with are numberless

The kind of movie where the good guys always win.

Little white flowers

Will never awaken you

Not where the black coach

Of sorrow has taken you

The kind where he always gets the girl.

Darling, I hope that my dream

Never haunted you

My heart is telling you

How much I wanted you

Gloomy Sunday

Ben walked swiftly unsure of where his legs were going. He exploded with longing, hypnotized and confused . He had to kiss her. He had to love her. He did love her, and he could never stop. He reached out toward her glittering form, ready to whisk her up and away.

Only air greeted his fingertips, the spotlight was gone and so was Camille.

“You can’t keep doing this, Ben” 

Camille stood by the door, a suitcase in hand,  and her winter coat held snug to her shoulder.

“I’m leaving y’know, I have a plane to catch.”

You can’t leave, did I do something wrong?

“I already left, seven years ago. It’s been seven years. You poor bastard. I really can’t stay Ben, my plane leaves in an hour”

But there will be plenty more planes, just stay a little longer, I can be better.

“Poor boy, it won’t make a difference, my plane has already left. It’s waiting for me, I really must be going”

Why are you leaving me?

“I don’t love you Ben, maybe I never did. Maybe I was just too young to know what love was? It hardly matters now. I could be anywhere in the world at this very moment. Seven years is a long time y’know”

…

Where are you going?

“Paris. There was never any room for me here anyway. Best to leave while I’m still young, and beautiful. He really is a good man, y’know. He’ll treat me well, and Paris is a lovely city”

…

…

…

But I love you

“No, Ben” 

…

You’ll be back tomorrow, right? You always come back.

…

…

“No… It’s just a dream. Can’t you tell anymore? You poor, poor bastard.”

Ben had never been to the roof at night before. The stars twinkled, and danced as he sat watching. The sky looked so much closer from up here, a blanket of dark stretched over a broken city. He wondered if he could reach it.

Reaching a hand in the air he grasped for the abyssal fabric, ready to pull it in close to his chest. His fingers grasped desperately at empty air. Perhaps it was just a little higher. It couldn’t be more than a couple feet from his fingertips. 

All he would have to do is jump.

Shimmering white caught his eye, as Camille strolled past onto the dance floor. Had she been invited? Had he? A hand lifted to gesture him over.

“Youre making a mistake, Ben. Go home” 

May I have this dance?

 Her white dress swayed in the wind as he approached. Her hair cascaded around her face, a white crown adorned her head. She lifted her arms, in saintly stature. It was an invitation.

“You can’t keep doing this, Ben” 

Just one dance

“I’m probably landing in Paris right now, I can’t be here”

Just one dance

“This is stupid, GO HOME!” 

Ben only smiled, offering a hand and a small bow.

May I?

…

…

…

“Of course, love”.

She reached out her hand, and was gone. The dance floor, melting into concrete. He watched as the sky seemed to grow closer and closer. He reached up for it, 

He stretched, higher and higher until the tips of his feet were all that kept him down. He could almost feel it. The warmth of the void radiated through his fingertips.

Just a few more inches now.

All he had to do was jump.

“You bastard” 

…

…

“You poor, poor bastard.” 

The Shadow

          They didn’t see him; nobody ever did. They sat around the dinner table, joking and singing or whatever, but Jack didn’t care, not now. There were 3 of them this time: a father, a mother, and a daughter. The parents were old, and the daughter was maybe 22 or 23, not that it mattered to Jack; he went where he was told, no matter what. A birthday party, perhaps, Jack wondered mildly, as he lazily strode through the kitchen toward the back door. He locked the door quietly before lazily looking for the light switch. The Change was Jack’s favorite part, the moment they went from joy to fear. The Change filled the room as Jack found the light switch and flicked it. Jack was quick with his duties, and when the lights came back on, the family was unrecognizable; bits of blood, hair, and flesh coated the walls and floors. Jack admired his handiwork. The Shadow would be pleased. Jack smiled once more before wandering back into the night.

          Jack Rowe worked as a bartender, or at least he pretended to be every week for 40 hrs or more. It wasn’t something he liked doing. Matter of fact, he hated it. All those degenerates and heathens lit Jack on fire. If he had to hear one more story about how, this one got dumped for that one, while the other was screwing somebody else, he might decide to put an end to the whole affair in a very violent manner. Jack never got what he wanted, however, because The Shadow loved the bar. Young women were its prey of choice, and there was no shortage of them tonight. 

           “Jack, Hello”, Rose waved a hand in his face, “Earth to Jack.” 

          Jack blinked his way back into existence while turning to meet the gaze of his “boss”. If you could call her that, I mean, she was 20 years younger than him. A fact that wasn’t lost on him as his gaze slid from her face and down her neck, over curves and dips, and down to things only his imagination would ever see. Her deadly blue eyes shone in her pale face, as wild red hair framed her freckled cheeks. Rose was heartachingly beautiful, but far too young. Maybe he was just too old. It was only a few years ago when a woman like that would have been all over him, but now…

           “Jack, the trash needs to go out,” Rose said, interrupting his thoughts once more. She shifted uncomfortably before shuffling out of the room. Jack didn’t blame her. With a sigh, he gathered the trash and walked out the door.

          Jack dragged a trash can behind him, and he felt a familiar twinge in his neck. Jack didn’t flinch; he was used to it by now. One moment he was throwing a bag into the dumpster, and the next he was falling. Then he was still. The Shadow never really had a form other than glowing red eyes. The eyes were never the same. The size, the shape, the number. It changed from occasion to occasion. Jack noticed this idly as he looked around, for the eyes.

          He found them to his left, and when their eyes met, he felt an image surge into his mind. A woman in a blue dress is sitting at the bar. She had been at the bar drinking her sadness away. Her boyfriend was a jerk or something, but it didn’t matter now. She was Marked. She would be his next victim.

          When Jack returned to his post, the woman was there, sipping on something sweet, Jack never bothered to learn the name, and pouring out her soul to the woman next to her. The Shadow lurked in a corner, listening with glee as the woman described how her boyfriend went home for the holiday and hooked up with his ex. Three red eyes appeared in the corner of the room as she went on about how she found his second phone, the one with all his other girls. A fourth eye opened. Maybe it was a smile. Maybe not. Jack couldn’t care less about the woman or her crappy boyfriend, but this was part of the chase, and Jack always did what he was supposed to.

          So while the woman talked, he listened, and when she got up to leave, he followed. Jack kept his headlights off as he drove behind her; he didn’t need them. His night vision had been extraordinary. When she drove up to an apartment building, Jack watched to see which was hers. Once he was certain of her apartment number, he drove off. The Chase was fun, but the rest was yet to come. He went around back, walking through an alleyway, a pair of glowing red eyes peering from the darkness. The fire escape was easy enough to climb, and the window opened easily enough. There were only two of them this time. The woman in the blue dress and a boy. Presumably the boyfriend. From the bedroom, Jack watched them argue in the kitchen. The moment wasn’t right for The Change to work; it had to be the right moment. Jack slipped out of the bedroom and into the living room.

            They didn’t see him, nobody ever did, but he saw them. The fighting intensified, and Jack began to worry that the moment would never come. He would have to do it anyway; it just wouldn’t be as fun. Jack sighed. Well, if it had to be, it had to be. Jack had a job to do. A moan escaped the woman’s lips, and stopped Jack in his tracks. The fighting was morphing; they still yelled at each other, but only between breaths as they began to shed their clothes like the wretched animals they were. The yelling devolved into moaning as the woman’s back found the couch Jack had been standing by. He had escaped into the bathroom while they were… busy. Six red eyes watched as the man’s pants fell to the floor, and six more eyes watched as the woman continued her shrieks, for lack of a better term, of pleasure. 

          This was the moment. It was time for The Change. The breaker was easy to locate because he had already seen it on the way in. It was in the bedroom. Jack smiled, and with a push, the power was out. The shrieks and groans from the living room silenced, and Jack’s smile widened. It was even better than he had expected. He heard them whispering to each other in the living room, and Jack walked past them to the front door. He waited for a moment before locking it. He wanted to be sure they heard it. A gasp of fear from the woman confirmed it. 

          A laugh escaped his lips; he couldn’t help it. They couldn’t see him, he was sure, but they could hear him. He savored The Change in all of its glory, but all good things must end sometime. With a sigh, he brought up a shadowy hand, where he held his new weapon. A vase from the nightstand. Thirteen eyes watched as the vase cracked against the boy’s skull, and another laugh escaped into the void. The woman screamed and ran to the door, but Jack was fast. Jack’s tendril-like fingers grabbed her throat before throwing her back down on the couch. A shard of the vase lay at his feet. With a singular motion, he brought it across the boy’s neck. The woman was next. Jack’s hand found her throat again, and he squeezed, as her naked body squirmed beneath him. His joy could not be contained any longer, and he laughed. He laughed and he laughed and he laughed, until his eyes turned red.

           When the lights were back on, Jack admired his masterpiece. The Shadow was pleased. Jack knew because he no longer saw the eyes. He was satiated for now, and so was Jack. He giggled to himself quietly all the way home.

          “Jack, could you empty the trash again? I know you just did, but…” Rose’s voice trailed off as she left, not bothering to finish her sentence. Jack watched as she walked away, watching her hips sway side to side. Heartachingly beautiful was the term he had used, and his heart was aching for sure. She was the girl he wanted but knew he could never have. He thought about this as he felt the familiar twinge in his neck, one moment standing and the next falling. And then he was still. The eyes were uncountable this time, but he didn’t need to look at them to know who was Marked. 

           It was Rose, it’s always been Rose. Jack smiled. Maybe it was time to let her go. Or maybe he’d hold onto her for a little while longer. The eyes blinked in what could have been laughter, and Jack joined in for the last time. 

Tommy isn’t Real


       I would consider my life to be normal. I’m 35 years old. I work a normal office job. I’m married to a beautiful woman named Sam, and I have a 10 year old son, named Tommy. My life is normal in every way, except for one small detail. Tommy isn’t real.
      For the life of me, I can’t remember him even existing until a few days ago. I know that’s crazy. Tommy acts like a normal kid, Tommy’s room is fully furnished, his toys litter the floor. It makes no sense, but I just can’t shake the thought. Tommy isn’t real.
       “Brian?” Sam’s voice shook me from my thoughts, “You’re staring off into space again.”
        “Sorry, just lost in thought,” I said. I had been getting dressed before stopping. I quickly dressed, embarrassed
        “You’ve been zoning out a lot lately, are you feeling ok?” Samantha asked, her voice full of concern.
         “I’m feeling fine, I’ve just been thinking a lot I guess.” I said, in an attempt at humor.  
         “Ah, you’ll get used to it ,” Sam said with a smirk.  She was much funnier than I was.
          I turned to give Sam a smile, before ushering her to the door.
         “Don’t you have someplace to be?” I said in faux annoyance, fashioning on a smirk of my own.
         “Yes, and I’m going to be there awhile, so don’t forget to pick Tommy up from school.”, Sam said, with a pointed look.
         Tommy. I wondered briefly, what would happen if I didn’t pick him up. Would he disappear? He wasn’t my kid after all. He wasn’t even real, but no, that would be awful. Regardless of who the kid is, I can’t abandon him. Besides Sam would just pick him up after work and then I would be in trouble.
          “ Earth to Brian, hello?,” Sam said, waving a hand in front of my face. “ Maybe you need to see a doctor, this doesn’t seem normal”

           I waved it off, “I’m fine. I’ll pick up Tommy, I promise.”, I said, shooing her out the door. “You’re going to be late if you don’t go now”
          “You just can’t wait to get rid of me,” Sam said playfully, “Don’t forget Tommy”
         “I won’t forget, I promise”, I said with a smile.
           She smiled approvingly before walking to the car. Shutting the door behind her, I headed back into the house, determined.
        Technically I worked from home, but I got the feeling that I wouldn’t be working today. I needed proof that I wasn’t crazy. I needed to prove Tommy wasn’t real. I headed to Tommy’s room to find evidence.
Tommy’s room was a mess. There were toys on the floor, paper strewn about, and crayons scattered about. I bent down to pick a toy up. It was an action figure from some TV show that Tommy liked. I never really got into it but I remember the day I came home with the toy. He had been so excited about it. I still didn’t really get it, He was some sort of soldier holding a gun, it all seemed pretty generic to me.
He was my son though, so I bought the toy, because he liked the show. I remember how his face lit up upon seeing it. The kind of joy only a child could have. It was a wonderful feeling, and yet something just wasn’t right.
I didn’t buy that toy. In fact, I never bought anything in this room.  This room shouldn’t even exist, because Tommy shouldn’t exist. Yet it does and he does and I just can’t understand why. What does he want from me? Where are  these memories coming from? Maybe I’m the crazy one, maybe he’s always been here?
My phone buzzed in my pocket, waking me from my existential trance. The time on my phone read 1:30 pm. I had been standing in  the same spot all day. Maybe I was going crazy. The phone continued to buzz in my hand before I finally answered it.
“Is this Mr. Brian Dellinger?”, a female voice asked on the other end of the line.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“This is Andrea from Mandrake Grove Elementary. We are calling about your son Tommy. He got in a fight, and is being sent home for the day.”, the voice said.
     It took me a moment to realize that that meant she wanted me to come pick him up.  “Oh, ok I’m on my way”, I said before hanging up.

I guess I’m picking him up a little bit earlier than I thought. I headed to the car. Maybe it would be good to spend some time alone with him, Even if he was a new addition to the family, he was my son, and that meant I was going to have to get used to him. As I walked out to the car, I realized something. Sam had taken the car to work this morning. But it was still in the driveway.
As if to answer my unasked question, Sam rounded the vehicle holding a grocery bag. I guess I hadn’t noticed her.
“The school called, they said they wanted you to go pick him up.” Sam said, giving me a quick kiss, before walking inside.
“You were already in the car, why didn’t you pick him up?”I asked, confused.
“I offered to, but they said something about me not being an approved guardian or something, apparently they don’t just let the kids just go home with anyone.”, she said from the kitchen.
That made sense, I had enrolled him myself, and had myself and my mother down as approved guardians. Thinking back on it now, I’m not really sure why. “ Ok well. I’ll be back”, I called, before shutting the door finally. Before getting in the car.

Tommy was sitting in the principal’s office, when I got to the school. He had his head down, looking like he had been crying. The principal sat across from him, and she nodded for me to sit down as I came in.
“Hello Mr. Dellinger, we need to talk about Tommy.”, she said. Her tone was worrying, as if she was really saying “We need to talk about you”
“How can I help?” I asked, sitting down next to Tommy.
“Well, Tommy has been acting out recently, he’s been angry, and brash. He got in a fight today, and he’s usually such a pleasant child. We were hoping you might have some insight into what might be going on outside of school. Maybe it will help us understand his behavior.”
“Nothing has been going on that I know of,” I said, defensively. I know they were just trying to help Tommy, but it really felt like they were accusing me of something, and i didnt like it, “Maybe, it  would be best to ask his mother, she spends the most time with him.”
“Do you think maybe that’s the problem?” The principal asked accusingly.
“What are you implying?”, I asked, feeling the judgemental gaze of the principal burn into my forehead.
“I’m not implying anything, Mr. Dellinger. I’m saying maybe you need to spend more time parenting than doing whatever it is you do.”
The audacity of this woman, I thought as the anger bubbled up inside, I prepared to unleash a torrent of her, but was stopped when Tommy spoke.
“You’ve been acting weird, daddy”, Tommy said, a whimper in his voice. “ You keep staring at nothing, and you talk to yourself all day, and you don’t listen to me.” Tommy broke down crying, and I moved closer to put an arm around him
“I have been acting a little strange, I know. I’ll work on it, I promise.”, I picked Tommy up and headed to the door, ignoring the accusatory ire of the principal  as I walked out. I hadn’t even thought about how my behavior would have affected him. Maybe he was just as confused as I was, and my lack of empathy toward him probably wasn’t helping. I decided then that Tommy was going to be my top priority. As long as he was with me, he would be my kid, and I would take care of him.
I put him in the backseat of the car, and buckled him up before getting in the car myself. Tommy had stopped crying, and was now just staring ahead blankly. I pulled out of the parking lot and as I looked in the rearview mirror I saw him looking directly at me. I felt bad for the kid. If i woke up in a strange house, with a strange man I would be crying too.
“I’m sorry ive been acting so weird, I’ve just been… confused, I guess,” I said, trying to comfort him. “We’ll talk about it more at home though, Mommy is waiting for us.”
“Mommy doesn’t live with us anymore, daddy”, Tommy said in a sad voice, “She’s in heaven, remember?”
Needless to say I was taken aback by that statement, I literally just saw her at home, right before I picked him up.
“Don’t say that Tom. Sam is at home. I just saw her a moment ago,” I said, fear tinged my voice, unsure of my words.
“My mom’s name isn’t Sam, you keep talking to Sam, but she isn’t real daddy”, Tommy said, tears began to well up in his eyes again.
My mind began to race, what was he talking about. Sam was at home, I just saw her. He must be mistaken.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sam is waiting for us at home.” I said in what I thought was a reassuring voice. It didn’t work though, because the kid broke down again.
“SAM ISN’T REAL, DAD. SHE’S NOT REAL. STOP TALKING TO SAM.”. Tommy screamed at me, as he screamed it finally happened. I remembered Tommy.
I remembered bringing him home from the hospital, I remembered his first steps, his first word. I remembered his first day of school, his first report card, everything. I remembered his mother, Linda. I remembered her fight with cancer, and I remembered her death. I felt a twinge of pain as it all came back. There really was no denying it. Sam isn’t real.
“What are you talking about Brian, I’m right here”, a voice said from the passenger seat, I turned my head, and stared in disbelief, as I saw Sam sitting next to me. A wicked smile across her face.
The look of surprise on my face must have been obvious, because Tommy spoke from the backseat. “She’s here again, isn’t she?”
“No, you’re right Sam isn’t real” I lied to him.
“Then what were you looking at ?” Tommy asked.
“What were you looking at, Brian”  Sam mocked from beside me, her taunting grin still plastered across her face, I ignored her though.
“Nothing,” I lied again, “ Daddy isn’t feeling well, I’m going to drop you off at grandma’s house, ok?”
“Ok,” Tommy replied
“If only you had waited,” Sam said, her voice lilting as if singing a song, “I just needed a little more time”
“Time for what?”, I asked.
Tommy’s head shot toward, “She is here, you said she wasn’t”
“A little more time “, Sam giggled
“I’m sorry, I lied Tommy lied, but everything is going to be fine, I’m going to get rid of her,” Sam giggled again from the seat next to me,” Run inside and tell Grandma that i might be gone for awhile, I’m sorry to do this to you Tommy, and I’m sorry Ive been so strange, but I’m going to make it right I promise.”, I knew it was an empty promise, but my eyes pleaded with him to believe me.
“I love you, Daddy”, was all he said before hopping out of the car, and running inside.
“I love you too, Tommy,” I said to the empty chair behind me.
“I love you, Brian”, Sam said, laughing giddily as if that was the funniest thing anyone had ever said.

Sam giggled again from the passenger seat. She didn’t speak again, but her eyes followed me, the permanent smile, a freakish fixture on her horrible face. Her eyes bore into me as I drove quickly to the nearest hospital.
That’s where I am now. They did an x-ray and found what they said was some sort of parasite. They said I was lucky I had come in before it had done any real damage to my brain. They said that Linda’s death may have left my mind vulnerable to manipulation, and that the bug could sense it. They said that the hallucinations would fade over time, and I would go back to normal.
I dont understand any of it ,but even as I type this. I can still see her across the room. Her lips permanently parted in a sinister smile. Her eyes boring into my skull
“Just a little more time.”




Finding Your Spark: an Inspirational Story, by Matt Sterling

          My name is Matt Sterling, and I’m a horror writer. For the older readers among you, you might recognize the name. I had a brief moment, when my book, “Cries for Laughter,” was released in 2005. Since then I’ve been in and out of the spotlight as a teller of short stories. I’ve written a few good ones, I’ve written a lot of bad ones.
        I got a lot of attention for the bad ones. I think that says more about you than it does about me. Yet it all just felt so meaningless, because I just couldn’t find that spark.
       If you’re a writer yourself, you understand what I mean by the spark. That spark you get when the idea clicks just right into your mind, and you know it’s going to be a good one. That moment in Room 217, where you can see ” The Shining,” in full picture, and you hear the click as the idea forms wholly inside your mind. That’s the spark, and I had lost it.
       I’m no Stephen King of course, but that’s hardly the point. The stories just didn’t grab me anymore. I felt nothing more than the stroke of the pen, or the click of the keys. My writing had become lifeless, and soulless, and I couldn’t figure out why.
       When you search online you get the same advice from everyone. Change your location, change your writing habits, get rid of distractions, and all of that is fine. It works, I started writing, but the writing wasn’t the issue. It was the substance. The writing was hollow, and no matter what I tried it stayed hollow. That was until I met Mira.
        I’ll admit, I got a little depressed. I felt like I had lost my touch. I used to be this award-winning writer, but now look at me. Sitting in isolation, wracking my brain for a single inkling of inspiration. My friends invited me out every week and I always declined, but eventually I couldn’t decline anymore. Social pressure can be a pain.
         It was a dinner for my friend Dave’s birthday. The restaurant was nice, but I won’t bore you with the details of Dave’s party. The only important part of that night was Mira. I saw her from across the entire restaurant, and stunning was too mild a word for her. It was the kind of beauty you could only read about in fantasy novels.
          An Elven Queen perhaps, or a Fae princess. Either way, she walked over and the room vibrated with her presence. She spoke to us, and I was struck with confusion.
           She was the waitress, but that just couldn’t be. How could she be serving the likes of me and my compatriots? She was a Goddess amongst mortals, it seemed wrong to accept her service. It would make a good story though. And there it was… a spark.
             I left quickly, mumbling some excuse about God knows what. I had the spark finally. I felt whole again, I felt complete, I felt my soul returning to my fingertips, and I knew I had to strike fast. Everyone knows a spark isn’t enough to start a fire. You have to fan the flames, and that’s what I intended to do.
           I plopped down heavily behind my desk, laptop already open to a blank page, and I started typing. My fingers danced in delight, as for the first time in years I felt the joy that made me start writing in the first place.  I frantically typed sentence after sentence, trying to keep the blaze alight.
           With every clack of the keys I felt it fade. The fire grew dimmer and dimmer, until it was gone. I had lost it again. The spark was gone. Everything I had written was nonsense. What a waste. I pressed heavily on the backspace, until I was met with a blank page once again.
           The next day, as I stared intently at the page, willing it to come to life on its own, I came to a realization. I knew where my spark was. It was with Mira.
          I decided to go back to the restaurant, but this time I had a plan. I would write down all of my ideas while I was there, that way I could never lose them. It seemed foolproof at the time, but looking back it might have been quite foolish. Not knowing that at the time though, I went to the restaurant.
          She wasn’t my waitress a second time, and I was fine with that. Who was I to make Aphrodite a victim to my whim? Instead I was intent to just watch. I watched her blonde hair cascade around her shoulders, her pale skin looked almost fragile to the touch, contrastingly her green eyes were sharp, deadly.
           I wrote it all down on my phone, as much as I could at least. As I was writing though, I realized that my phone had a camera. I could probably get a picture. I quickly fired off a shot, hoping nobody noticed. I wasn’t even sure if she was in the picture at that moment, but a few dirty looks were being thrown my way so it was time for me to leave.
           A story began to form in my mind, and I felt the excitement build as I raced home. I ran inside, and plopped down once more. Once I was situated, I checked my phone, and there she was. Even as bad as my phone was, she seemed to shine through it. She enhanced the quality of the photo, just by being in it. It was amazing. It was inspiring.
          Words began to flow quickly from under my fingertips. Loose sentences gave way to better, tighter paragraphs, and a spark became a blazing inferno. I had something,I finally had something and I was not letting go.
          Gleefully I wrote until the earliest hours of the morning, filling page after page with glorious sentiments.  The ecstasy I felt was unmatched. It had to have been upwards of ten years since I felt this way, and I had forgotten how good it felt.
             I fell asleep on my keyboard that night, my dreams filled with words and phrases so poetic, they bring tears to my eyes even now. I finally got it back. The spark.
       I woke up with a smile on my face. I erased the damage my face had done to my manuscript, before continuing from where I left off.
         I felt the moment my soul began to drain through my fingers. The spark died again, and I was left in darkness. I looked at the picture, but it was dimmer than usual. It didn’t ignite the spark like it usually did. It wasn’t good enough. I looked at my unfinished manuscript in disgust.
       I had been so close. The words on the page felt so dull. They taunted me with their emptiness, daring me to find meaning, but I just couldn’t. They were meaningless. With a heavy heart I felt the backspace key under my finger again. The page emptied and my thoughts cleared, and I knew what had to be done.
         I went back to the restaurant. It was getting late, so there were a few people here and there but overall not many people around. Which was good for me.
           Side note: You can  make your own Chloroform. I’m not going to tell you how, but you could look it up if you want to. Another side note: It doesn’t quite work the way I thought it would.
             She struggled against me as I held the rag to her face. It didn’t knock her out the way it should have,but she began to struggle less so I opted to shove the rag in her mouth as a gag before throwing her in the back seat of my car.
          I drove quickly away, before pulling into a backlot. In the cover of darkness I got some rope and tied her hands and feet. She tried to fight it, but the chloroform had made her weaker I guess. I’m still not sure how chloroform works.
            Having her in my home felt like an abomination. How could such a filthy, vile abode, contain an angel such as herself? I propped her up in a chair. I needed to see her.
             I felt the energy well up, as life returned to my hands, and began to flow into the keys. With every keystroke, a burst of energy rattled my bones. The room glowed in the presence of the goddess, and that energy flowed through me onto the page.
             I finally had it. I finally had her. My spark.
            And I am never letting go

Again

       “I don’t understand”, Travis said, head in hand, “Did I do something wrong”.
       Amanda sat down next to him, putting an arm on his back. “You didn’t do anything wrong, I just don’t think we want the same things.”
         “In what way?” Travis asked, his cheeks stained with tears
         “I always thought I would get married by now. It just doesn’t seem like a priority for you”, Amanda reasoned. “It is a priority for me though,”
        They sat together a little longer, but eventually Amanda got up and left.

          Travis sat alone in a basement. A strange console sat in front of him. Red lights blinked on and off. Travis stared at it with wonder, and with hatred. It was this machine that had taken his attention away from her, this machine was responsible for the heartbreak he felt, but it was a wonderous machine.
            He had tried to explain to her how important this console was, but she just wouldn’t listen. If only she knew, I was on the verge of the greatest scientific breakthrough of mankind, Travis thought.
       If only. With fresh tears staining his face, he left the basement, shutting off the lights, with a final thud. If only

       Break-ups really change your perspective of your house, and Travis was finding it out the hard way.
             The first thing that hits you is the silence, after sharing the space with another person for 2 yrs, you get used to the sound of someone else being there. You can turn on a TV, crank up the music, scream at the top of your lungs, but the silence remains. Reminding you of what you lost.
          The next thing that hits you, is the sheer enormity of your place of residence. Even the smallest apartment can feel enormous when you’re alone. You get used to walking around someone, bumping shoulder, even jumping over things to get around, but that’s no longer necessary. It’s just you, and you have all the space you need.
            The next thing you notice, is time. Time stretches on forever, and ever , and ever. Days are weeks long, and years are impossible to reach. It makes sense, you were splitting your time between two people, and now it’s all yours. And you’re desperate to fill that time with anything. Anything that will fill those empty moments. Anything that will help you forget the empty, enormous, eternal, silence, waiting for you.
            Travis sat at his workbench, Music loud in his earphones. He was usually a Frank Sinatra guy, but just for today, he was a metalhead. He tinkered with nuts and screws, played with dials and switches. He absentmindedly pulled levers, and when nothing happened he sighed. Travis trudged back up stairs, The blink red lights taunting him as he closed the door.
           Weeks passed before he saw any progress. He continued his tinkering, a soft melodic Frank Sinatra in the background, volume down so he could concentrate. Suddenly he sees one of the red lights turn green, before turning red again.
          Travis jumps, nervous and staring at the console. He reaches back for the dial he had been turning. Moving it slowly he watched as the light turned green again.
           One by one the red lights turned off. Leaving only a single green light in the center of the console. Travis yelped in excitement. He had accomplished the impossible. But he wasn’t done yet. He had to test it.
        Travis grabbed the machine and placed it on the floor. He didn’t know of any good ways to test this machine without using it himself, but he was sure it would work. Travis bent down, twisted a few dials, and flipped a switch.
           Reality contorted around him, as almost instantly he was standing on a cobbled road. Gas lamps dotted the road, and he watched as carriages passed through, drawn by horses. The streets were relatively empty but Travis had seen enough and he smiled a wide smile.

             He had done the impossible. He was the first time traveler.
            Flipping the switch back, he was instantly back in his basement. He cheered and screamed, and ran around. Climbing the staircase three at a time, swinging open the door to find… Nothing. For a brief second he had forgotten Amanda, He had forgotten everything. But now the silence weighed heavy.
            If only she had waited just a few more weeks. Better yet, if only she had never entered his life. This moment had been perfect without her memory tainting it. If only he didn’t have them. If only their relationship never happened. If only he-
         Travis stopped, and smiled again. This time wider than before.
         If only I had a time machine.

         Travis bought a whiteboard. He didn’t need one, but all the movies on time travel he had seen had one, so it just seemed appropriate. The plan was simple though.
He would go back to their first date, and he would ruin it.
            With a few calculations, on the brand new whiteboard of course, he set the time machine to March 1, 2021, and flipped the switch.
          

             The restaurant had a bar, and Travis was more than happy to help himself to a few drinks while he waited. Right now I’m probably getting ready to leave my apartment, Travis thought. “Then we’ll arrive and sit over at that table right there”.  He stared. The memories flooding back.
             It had taken him three days to ask her here, but he had wanted to on the first day they met. He picked her up from her apartment and they had shown up together, dressed nicely. Maybe it was a little formal for a first date, but they didn’t care. They had sat awkwardly for a few minutes. Neither one of them daring to break the silence first. That was until the menu came. It was here that he learned about her “aversion” to lobster. She absolutely hated lobster, and by the end of the night, she made sure that he knew it. Travis smiled, reminiscing.
            Until he remembered the knowledge was completely useless now. Amanda’s favorite color, her favorite food, favorite movie, or song, or show. It was all useless now.
         Travis checked his watch. He and Amanda should have shown up by now. He began to panic. By coming here, had he already changed the past so much, and if so what else had he changed. It was March 1st right? The day that they- Wait… March 1st wasn’t out first date. It’s the day we met. Travis facepalmed. He got the dates wrong.
           Although… maybe this was even better. If today was day one, he had two more days before he even asked Amanda out. This might work out after all. All he needed was a place to stay the night.

            Travis got in a cab, and headed for the hotel. The hotel looked familiar, and it was a minute before he remembered why. It was where he and Amanda had spent their first night together off campus.

             After they had been dating for a while, they realized that alone time was hard to find when you had roommates. Besides, always a scientist at heart, a trial run of cohabitating couldn’t hurt.
        More memories flooded in and he saw himself and Amanda checking into the hotel. She clung to his arm, as he checked them in.
         He remembered wondering what the receptionist thought of them. A young couple, giggling like children. Checking into a hotel. It was pretty obvious what the receptionist must be thinking, but he pushed through regardless. Amanda was by his side, giggling, as if they were getting away with something.
        It was so silly, so immature, and yet so lovely. It was perfect, and he wouldn’t change a thing. Not until tomorrow at least.

         Travis went to his room. He wasn’t at all surprised that the silence had followed him. He had distracted himself from it as long as he could, but in the hotel room he couldn’t run any longer.
        The bed was noticeably too big for one person. When he turned off the shower, the silence that followed was almost deafening, and when he laid down, the coldness of the sheets reminded him of Amanda’s warmth, something he’d just as soon forget
        One more day, Travis thought, but he didn’t smile. He couldn’t. The silence was just too heavy. Instead he turned over on his side and slept. A deep, dark, dreamless sleep.


         Travis had to buy a new whiteboard, and with this new board he made a new plan.
        Travis and Amanda had met in college. They sat right next to each other. The memories started flowing in again, and Travis saw himself sitting awkwardly next to this girl he had just met. He hadn’t even known her name yet. He remembered the lights were slightly dimmer in that moment, as he extended his hand.
           “My name is Travis, you don’t mind if I sit here do you?”.
           “I’m Amanda, and not at all”, Amanda had said with a smile.
           It was very smooth, direct, but not too forward. He was killing it, and knew it.
           With his newfound confidence, he kept the conversation going. He learned a lot about her that day. He couldn’t even remember what the lesson had been about. He only remembered her.  For Now.
           The plan was simple, he had to make himself leave the room. Easiest way to do this would be to pull the fire alarm. With a plan in place Travis left the hotel

          Getting onto campus was easy, but that was expected. He was technically a student there, and it was doubtful they had protocol to ward against time travelers, although it would be cool if they did.

            He arrived just in time to see himself walking into class. You’d think it would be weird seeing yourself in third person but to Travis’s surprise, it was just like watching any other person. Like watching a stranger
            Travis walked in behind the Young Travis, and sat in the back. He watched as Travis approached the girl sitting in the middle of the room.
            As the girl turned her head, Future Travis’s heart dropped. It was Amanda, and she was exactly as he remembered. She was perfect, a glow emanated from her skin. Her hair cascaded like silk curtains, and when she smiled, Travis had to look down at his feet.
         He hadn’t seen her in weeks, and seeing her now tore at his heart. Every memory came flooding back to him all at once. Every good time. Every bad time. The first kiss, the first fight. A new house, turned into an empty void.
        
          Travis heard papers rustling and looked up to see himself fumbling with a journal, as papers slipped from his grasp. He managed to not drop any, and he sat down awkwardly next to Amanda
          He quickly reached out a hand to her, before dropping the hand immediately to stop the papers from falling from his lap. Once he was situated, he extended the hand again, this time long enough to shake. With a shaky voice he said
          “Y- You don’t mind if I sit here do you. I can move”
         “No, it’s okay. You can sit. “, she reached out shook his hand. “My name is Amanda”.
         Young Travis smiled, before saying ” My name is Tra-”
        The papers fell again, and Travis scrambled to gather them. Amanda giggled.
        The giggle cut through the room, and from the back Travis smiled. The moment was so ridiculous. The laugh had stung, for sure, but all of it was just so comical he couldn’t help but laugh.
       
          Travis watched the moment unfold and It was magical. The two lovers were the only two in the room, besides everyone that was watching them, but they didn’t notice. They didn’t care.
          This was the start of something beautiful. The start of something perfect… Something that he was planning to take away from them. Travis looked down in shame. What had he been thinking?
          Who was he to stop something so beautiful? Why would he want to prevent the best years of his life? All because he was heartbroken. He knew he couldn’t do it. He had to leave.
          He held the console in his lap. He flipped the switch, and found himself once more in the empty, silence of his basement, but he smiled. The memories of his past no longer haunted him. They were beautiful, and he loved and cherished every one of them
        Even the new one, where he saw just how badly that interaction had actually gone. She must have really liked me, Travis thought, like a lot, especially after that trainwreck.
        Tomorrow Young Travis will ask her on a date, and inexplicably she’ll say yes. The date will be a little formal to be sure, but, as Travis now knew, he definitely wasn’t a dating expert. Then from that day on many more memories will be made, and Travis was ok with that.
          Then one day it will end, and Travis was ok with that too.  Music played quietly in the background. He must have left the radio on, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t help but listen to the lyrics of the song.

         “For when this never happens again,
We’ll have this moment forever
But never never again”

    As Doris Day continued to sing, Travis walked back up the stairs, console in hand, the flashing red lights guiding him once more into the silence, and he realized it wasn’t so quiet after all.

“We’ll have this moment forever
But never never again”


     
        
           
           
       
        
          
           
        

Love and War

Influenced by Romeo and Juliet, inspired by Star-crossed Enemies by Ice Nine Kills.

    On cloudy, cold nights, it was common to find Mark in a bar like this. Actually most nights it was common to find him here. 

    The Second Glance was a rather unassuming place. Looking at it from the outside it could have been anything. No sign adorned the front of it, and the only evidence the place even had a name, was the dusty menu behind the counter.

      It’s safe to say not many people know about this place, and Mark loved it that way.            Mark stared at the small TV screen in the corner. He couldn’t hear the TV, and the remote was lost a long time ago, so the TV was perpetually on the news channel.

     Mark didn’t mind though, he wasn’t here for TV, or even to drink, he just enjoyed the ritual of it after a long day of work.

     He didn’t enjoy interruptions to his ritual either, so when a soft hand tapped his shoulder, he quickly turned to see who would dare disturb him. Mark was lean, but not small, and after 7 yrs of military service, it would be hard to miss the ever present threat his muscles represented. When he spoke people listened to him, and yet when he turned to face the intruder, his words caught in his throat.

          The word Amazonian would do her justice, she was tall, and deceptively thin, but to Mark, the muscle definition was obvious. He could spot a fellow soldier when he saw her, yet when she spoke she spoke gently.

          “ Is anybody sitting here, ” she asked, pointing to the seat next to his. She had an accent when she spoke. Japanese, Mark guessed. 

            Mark waved for her to sit, and without another word she sat, signaling for a beer for herself. 

         She didn’t speak immediately, but when she noticed Mark still staring at her she asked

         “Can I help you with something?” 

Ignoring the question Mark asks, ” How did you find this place?” 

          “I was just on my way home , and saw the building. I pass by it everyday, but I never knew what it was”, she said.

         When she spoke, she spoke softly. There was almost a disconnect between her imposing stature and her soft spoken words.

        Mark turned back to the TV. He kept an eye on her though. He was never a great conversationalist, but he was intrigued by the girl. He was relieved when she spoke again. 

       “What’s your name?”

       “Mark”

       “It’s nice to meet you, Mark. My name is Mei”, she extended a hand, and Mark shook it. 

       “What do you do for work, Mark?”, Mei asked.

        ” Construction, mostly.”, Mark said,  “. “What about you?”

        ” I’m a dance instructor, dancing has always been a passion of mine, so I started my own studio”

        Mark lifted his eyebrows in interest, “That’s quite the accomplishment.”

        Mei lit up when she spoke about dancing and her studio, a fact that was not lost on Mark. “ Where is the studio located?”Mark asked.

        “It’s right down the street, i’ll show it to you,” grabbing Mark’s hand she dragged him out the door, “We can be there and back in 10 minutes at the most ”, she met a little less resistance after saying that.

       The two of them stood shivering in front of a building with floor to ceiling glass windows. They had rushed out so fast they hadn’t brought jackets. The building itself was modest, and yet somehow looked out of place in the melancholic middle of the bustling town. Mei turned her key and stepped inside quickly, ushering Mark in as well .

       “We should get out of the cold”, she said, hurrying Mark through the door. The lights went on as Mei flipped the switch, and her face lit up. Pride shone through her features as she beamed. The place was simple, but functional. A trait Mark appreciated, he never muched liked flashy things. He ran his hand across the perimeter, as if he could feel the building breathing even as he walked. Mei pulled ahead

         Hurriedly she reached for the stereo, a ballad filled the air with a rosey glow, even as the lights dimmed. The music was slow, and Mark watched as  Mei glided across the floor.  Every step, graceful and intentional. Mark found himself amazed, to look at her, he would have thought her more of a fighter than dancer, but he couldnt have been more pleased to be wrong, 

         He  chuckled at the irony of his thiniking. He had also been a dancer well into his twenties, before joining the military. Looking at him now, you wouldn’t think he could dance at all, and while he may have lost a step or two over the years, he stepped in seamlessly. Like a leaf flowing into a river, he followed her every step. Muscle memory moving his body in ways he had long  forgotten, and as the music picked up, he found himself leading the way  Twisting and tiwirling,  they seemed to move as single entity. 

The music was almost an afterthought now, they watched each other closely. Reading the others movements, as if it was written on there skin, The song ended, but they  still moved. Intertwined in a melody of there own creation, There eyes met, and they smiled

And thats where there story begins. Twin flames, together as one once more.

***********

Mei stood nervously in front of the door.  She smoothed her hands down her dress, distractedly, she could hear the TV on inside and she stood and listened to it drone.


Conflicts in the east worsening, as more and more countries join the war effort. The president has yet to issue a statement on U.S involvement, but with the state of affairs worsening as they are, it’s only a matter of time before all out war is inevitable. In other news – 

         Mei raised her fist and knocked on the door. The TV shut off instantly, and she heard an excited shuffle behind the door. 

          After a minute passed, she raised her fist to knock again, but before she could, the door swung open wide to reveal Mark, his normally pale face, beet red from exertion.

He wore a nice suit, it was wrinkled a little, but the sentiment of it all wasn’t lost on her. 

          Mark wasn’t the showy type, but even as she walked in, Mei noticed the red rose petals leading into the dining room, and though she couldn’t see the table, she saw flickering candle light illuminating the back wall. 

         Mei noticed Mark discreetly trying to wipe sweat from his face. It was nice to know she wasn’t the only nervous one 

They sat opposite each other at a candlelit table. Rose petals littered the table cloth and a plate of steaming food sat in front of them. While they had been nervous, at the start they quickly settled into a comfortable conversation. Mark was still a little on edge though, but Mei brushed it away understandably. It was their anniversary after all and, he had called her, and said he wanted to ask her something. While she didnt know what it was, she felt confident it wasnt a break up. All that was left for her to do was wait for him. 

They ate and reminisced about the past year, and as the hours passed Mei began to wonder if he would ever ask. 

  “I do remember that night,” , Mei laughed, “I had just opened the studio too. I wouldnt normally drag a stranger across the street, I was just excited that day.” 

“Well, I’m glad you did, or we wouldnt be here today.”, Mark said, humourously

“I was very surprised when you started dancing, I guess i dragged the right person.”

“I was a trained dancer in my twenties, I was pretty good too ” Mark said

“I didnt know that at the time though. Why did you stop dancing by the way? Youre so good at it”. Mei asked, she had asked similar questions before but had never got a response.

Mark seemed to think about the question before answering. 

“ There wasnt a lot of money coming my way, and i needed it,” Mark said thoughtfully “I really tried to stick with it, but eventually the well ran dry, and with nowhere to turn, I turned to the military.”  Marks face fell with every word, almost as if he were reliving these years, “ I really did want to dance, but sometimes things just dont work out. I got out of the military and i learned a trade, and that was that.” 

Mei sat quietly, for a minute before speaking,

“My parents passed when i was young and even when they were alive we didnt have much money, so after grade school, I joined the military as well. I had always been athletic so i figured it would be an easy way to earn a paycheck. I actually learned how to dance in the military, and after 5 years i decided to open up my own studio. I tried and tried, but they all shut down. Until i moved to America.” , Mei said, “ That one also shut down, but Ill open another one, one day.”

“That doesnt seem related to what i was saying at all.” Mark chastised, playfully.

Mei laughed, “ No what i’m saying is, I feel like you gave up on your dream to quickly, I havent given up on mine and i dont think you should give up on yours.”

“Maybe, maybe. I guess I just don’t like taking chances. On the note of taking chances, I actually asked you to come here tonight to ask you something,” 

Finally Mei thought, but she didnt say it out loud, instead she just smiled.

“I’m not very good at this, but I know that there is a certain point in a relationship where the couple actually lives together, and I , I mean, I dont ,  actually I was just wondering if you would maybe consider it. It’s totally up to you. I just wanted to maybe put it out there,-”

Mei smiled as Mark continued to ramble. Is this what was making him so nervous? He just wanted her to move in? Mei laughed, interrupting Mark , “ Of course, I will. I left some stuff here anyway, it makes sense to bring the rest of the stuff too,”

Mark laughed too “It’s hard to argue with that” 

The couple gave their goodbyes as Mei walked out the door and she smiled, That had gone rather well in her opinion, and she beamed all the way home.

Her apartment was small, and she was glad to be getting out of it,  I guess i better say goodbye to this place, this is my last week, She thought as she began putting things in boxes

Mei was excited about her future, when her phone rang she answered it with an enthusiastic smile, but as the call went on the smile slowly drained from her face. She quickly reached for a pen and a notepad.

************************************************************

           Mark smiled to himself, that had gone a lot better than he could ever have hoped. He didn’t even  mind having to pick rose petals out of his carpet. A smile plastered his face, as he cleaned up for the night.

         Mark turned the TV back on, as he worked. He enjoyed the white noise as he got his tasks done.

         If you’re just tuning in, welcome. I’m happy you’re watching, but unfortunately this not a happy occasion. It is war. As we speak American soldiers are arriving on Japanese soil. Many Asian countries are calling on any able-bodied citizens to fend off the American military. It’s unknown if America will do the same, but from the current political climate I wouldn’t be surprised if we do. Again there’s been very little word from the President on this matter, but let’s hope- 

        Mark had hardly been listening, but once his brain caught up to his ears, the broom he had been holding fell out of his hand. He was running out the door before it hit the ground. 

          Mei was a dual citizen, and she lived in America, so there was nothing to worry about. Right? Mark didn’t want to take any chances, He bypassed the car entirely and ran down the street, headed toward Mei’s apartment. 

         The door was slightly open when he arrived. He peeked inside, before gently pushing the door open. The room was a mess, as if every drawer had been turned over on to the floor. The Tv, continued its rambling banter.

       In other news, St. Patrick’s Day is right around the corner, take a look at what this local elementary school did to –

      Mark turned off the TV, and just stood. Everything had been going amazing, and now she was gone. Why? 

       A piece of paper fluttered off the counter and onto the cluttered floor. Hesitantly Mark bent down to retrieve it.

I’m sorry, to leave you like this Mark, but I cannot abandon my country. Ive been called to duty, ASAP,  and i have to go. I’m sorry. I would have come in person, but there are people at my door waiting,I guess this is more serious than i thought, I love you, and I hope to see you again soon. Stay safe – Love, Mei

        The paper fell lifelessly to the floor, as Mark’s thoughts raced. Everything and nothing swirling around in his head. It wasn’t until he had opened his front door that he realized he went home. He stood silently, contemplating. Of course he had known that the war effort was picking up. Things had been getting worse for a long time, 

but it’s so far away, it can’t hurt us, 

That’s what he had thought. 

    Time passed, but Mark rarely noticed. Little things would remind him of times passage though.  The ring of his alarm would remind him that morning was coming, the clang of metal would tell him he’s at work, and the slamming of a door would tell him he’s home.

Days, even months, would pass quietly, and uneventfully. 

      His phone rang sometimes, but it was never who he hoped it was, and this time was no exception. A man named Officer Hensley was on the other end. He had called to inform Mark that he was being called upon to serve his country. Of course Mark had expected this call, wordlessly Mark hung up. He walked out the door, hoping to never return.

***************************

          Mei sat quietly, staring at her phone. It wasn’t good for much as it was. Not in a warzone. Instead it sat useless in her lap. Not that it would be more useful if it worked. What would she even say to him? Would he even want to hear from her? She threw the useless brick to the ground, opting not to dwell on those questions. 

          They might not even matter, they had reached an all time low point in the war, and things were only getting worse. While nobody ever talked about it, they all knew the likelihood of victory was slim, and so was survival. 

         They would die, as nothing more than cogs in the machine of war, fighting for reasons they may never fully understand. 

That was war though. 

          Mei wiped her eyes, before she fully realized she had been crying. Quickly she wiped her face, and strengthened her resolve. She had never been the kind of person to give up, even if things were hopeless.

          She only knew three things. She would never leave this war, she would never see Mark again, and she would never die a cog. 

           She prayed. She prayed that Mark would hear her, and she apologized for what she had to do, and she prayed that he would forgive her

***********************

          Mark took the lead, breaching the building and opening fire. Whether this was his second time or twentieth, he neither knew or cared. Muscle memory carried him forward, and he was greeted with an empty building. The rest of his team followed him in. 

          Checking his intel he made sure he was in the right place, he was certain he was. The truth became obvious immediately. This was a trap. A man emerged from in front of Mark. A dagger plunging deep into Marks chest. Mark stared in shock, before falling to the floor. Blood covered the ground around him, as gun fire sounded from far away. 

          The man went down quickly, and the team continued to move through the building. More gunshots were heard throughout the building, presumably more people in hiding. Mark listened for as long as he could, but the silence overtook him, and he fell into the void

*******************

          The plan was a suicide mission, Mei knew. In simple terms, the plan was to let the Americans breach the building, and when they split up, take them out one by one. Of course a better plan would be to draw a few in and take them out with overwhelming force, but their resources in the area were already stretched too thin. Besides, Mei was just a pawn, and with little hope for victory, she knew her role was little more than cannon fodder. Her only purpose was to slow down the America troops.

           Of course Mei had other plans, she would go out on her own terms, looking down at the half empty vial in her pocket. The gunfire drew closer to her, and she kept from her hiding place. There was only one soldier in front of her, and she dispatched him quickly and quietly with the blade she carried with her. 

          She wondered if the others had done what they were supposed to. Taking up refuge in a small room, she waited until the gunfire stopped. Win or lose, it was over. She walked out of her hiding spot, and went to survey the building.

“*************”*******

         Mark’s eyes opened slowly. He was fairly sure he was dead, the most damning evidence being the angel that approached him from down the hall. She looked so out of place amidst the carnage and destruction, and Mark couldn’t help but chuckle. 

         The chuckle turned to a cough as he felt liquid build up in his throat. The angel turned to look at him, pity filled her eyes. The angel approached him then, she lifted him into a sitting position. 

         “It’s going to be ok”, she cooed, producing a small vial from her pocket, “ just lean your head back.”

          Mark did as he was told, and the vial was emptied down his throat. The coughing subsided and Mark smiled. 

          “ You really are an angel, aren’t you?”, Mark whispered. The angel nodded, tears filled her eyes, and she smiled.

          “ I just want to help you on your way,” she whispered back.

         She held his hand, and then began to hum, the tune was unfamiliar to him, but it was heavenly, Mark rose slowly to his feet, offering his other hand to her. The dance was intuitive, almost as if they could read each others minds. They moved slowly, each step intentional, every breath practiced and perfected. The weaved in and out of each other, a flickering of the flame  they once were. The angel sang, the words were lost on Mark, but he felt himself sink back down to the floor, the angels song guided him down, it guided him as he slipped away from himself, and it guided him gently into the beyond, as the arms of the universe pulled him lovingly into itself. She continued to sing, and she wept as she witnessed the fire between them fade, and the embers of his eyes diminish.

************************

             Mei sat alone. Tears still filled her eyes. She sat and thought. She thought of her dance studio, a fleeting dream, just beyond her grasp.. She thought of Marks house, the one she had almost moved into. An entirely different life for her lay down that path, and she had been so excited. She thought of the bar, the Second Glance, that’s where she had met Mark.

           Mark. She looked down at his body, lifeless in her arms, another victim to the cogs of war. She wept, as she looked at the empty vial laying on the ground. At least he had gone peacefully.

            Mei laid her head back against the wall. She would die here too, but as she looked down at Mark, she realized there were worse ways to die. She smiled and hummed a final tune, her hand twisting through the knots in Mark’s shaggy hair. 

*******************

            And there they lay. A pair of war-torn lovers. They were found weeks later, and a local newspaper in America read. “How the war, started by God-only-knows, sealed the fate of star-crossed enemies”.  Entwined in death, they live on in story. A testament to the only thing that could survive their war torn souls. Love.

The Faerie



The forest behind the abandoned church was my happy place. Everyday after school I would run there, and stay until the sun went down. Something about the leaves crunching, and the whistling breeze, put my entire body at ease.
A river ran through the forest, and right beside it was where I kept my fortress. It was well built for a 16 yr old. I had been building it since I was 8, and 8 years later. I was confident in my handiwork.
If you were to go inside the fortress you would see a makeshift bookshelf, and a rocking chair I found in a dumpster. The chair didn’t rock anymore, but, with a few adjustments, it was still usable as a chair.
And In that chair, you might see a pale skinned boy, with dusty, brown hair, and almond colored eyes. Me.
I leaned back in the chair. The chair may not rock, but if I put my feet against the wall I could rock it manually. I had fallen a number of times, but I was still young. Lessons were meant to be ignored.
In my lap was a book. It was closed now. My head was leaned back and my eyes were closed as I rocked back and forth.
I had a peculiar way of reading books. Every now and again, I would close my eyes, and just visualize the story in my head.
In my mind’s eye, I saw a Faerie woman named Aileen. She walked with confidence through the jungle. The animals cowered and slunk away from her as she walked, and she took pleasure in their fear.
She came to the bridge, where a goblin man stood. According to the rules of this world, one needed to pay a toll to cross the bridge, or face the mighty troll who lay under it.
Aileen didn’t play by the rules though, with a flick of her sword the goblin was disposed of. The ground rumbled as the troll awoke and attacked. Within moments Aileen walked down the bridge, a smile on her face and a troll head attached to her belt.
I kept my eyes closed for a little while longer, soaking in the story. Feeling the jungle heat on my skin, feeling foliage crumble under foot. Feeling my sword severing the heads of monsters, a shower of blood arcing into the air

My thoughts were interrupted by a voice. A female voice.
“Did you build this yourself?”, she said

With a start my eyes flew open, as the world began to tilt rapidly. The back of the chair hit the ground with a thud, as I spilled off onto the floor.

The girl giggled as her vibrant face came into view. A wide smile brightened her face, and her emerald green eyes pierced straight into my heart. She bent down to help me up, and a curtain of bright red hair framed her face.
“I didn’t mean to startle you”, she said with a giggle, “ My names Jessica, what’s yours”
” Calvin,” I said, cheeks reddening with embarrassment. “ I did build it myself, by the way ” , I say, facing the ground in an effort to hide my cheeks
Jessica looked around, “It’s pretty impressive, how long have you lived out here?”
The question took me by surprise. ” I don’t live out here, I live up the road with my dad. I just came out here to read. “. I point to the book on the floor
Jessica’s eyes lit up. “ I love stories, What’s the book about?” , she asked excitedly. I picked up the book and explained the plot. My eyes saw Aileen in battle with an Elf and with a dwarf. She was ruthless in battle and fought with the confidence that she had already won.
“How does it end?” Jessica said, her eyes burning into the side of my face.

“ I haven’t gotten that far yet.”, I said, just as the alarm clock against the wall began to ring. It was 7:00. Time to go home.
I waved goodbye to Jessica, and jogged home. My house was at the end of the street, perpendicular to the church parking lot. The backdoor was always unlocked, because I left it unlocked. My dad slept on the couch, probably still drunk from the afternoon binge he always had.
I had made a habit of getting home after 7, and leaving the house by 6, in order to make sure he never saw me. Most days I worry about what would happen if he found me, other days I wonder if he even knows he has a son.

I climbed into bed, and dreamed. Aileen’s sword dancing through my field of vision. The brave warrior danced but something was off about her. Remorselessly she struck down her foe, an elf woman wielding a longsword. Then quickly her bright eyes found mine. A bright emerald green. She lifted up her sword, and lunged.

I awoke with a whimper, and I hated myself for it. Aileen wouldn’t have whimpered. Ashamed I got up and headed out to school.

Jessica and I hung out everyday. She was the closest friend I had. She was a little strange, but I overlooked that. I was a little strange too.
Jessica helped fortify the fortress, fitting stronger beams in place of the weak ones. She was abnormally strong for a 16 yr old, I was very impressed.
Jessica loved stories , but strangely enough, she couldn’t read. I tried to loan her a book, but she refused.
“I can never understand those things, ” she said, “ Read it to me”
Happily I obliged. She smiled as I read. At that moment I realized I would do anything for that smile. I lived for that smile. I would die for that smile.
We sat there for hours, just reading books. I wanted to teach her how to read but she tells me her family doesn’t read.
“We’re just supposed to observe, we aren’t allowed to get involved.” She would say.
Even as I, so clearly, fell for Jessica the weirdness began to add up. I had never seen Jessica go home, she didn’t have a last name, if I asked where she’s from she would say “Here”, with no further explanation. Not to mention she couldn’t read, or write, although I mostly chalk that up for some weird religious thing. I assumed she must have grown up on a farm or something. It would explain her super strength.
We sat by the river and talked. I was explaining to her one of the books I had read in recent years. A book about a man buried alive, in a coffin . It was a terrifying book . Jessica interrupted me though.
“Why do you spend so much time out here?” She asked, wearing her signature smile. “ Don’t you have a family? They probably worry about you” .
I hesitate before answering ” No, it’s just my Dad. My mom died when I was six, and he’s been unbearable since then. I try to avoid him”.
“ But isn’t he sad? Maybe he needs help too,” she said sympathetically

“ I guess that’s what the drinking is for, but you don’t want to be around when he drinks. He gets mean. He tried to hit me once, but he was too drunk. He missed and that’s when I started coming out here. Are you okay? “
Jessica’s eyes got dark and for the first time she frowned.
” He shouldn’t hit you, Calvin”, she said, almost in a whisper.
For the first time I saw darkness emanate from her, and in that moment I was scared.
” He didn’t, he was just having a bad day, I guess. I don’t think he meant to do it”, I didn’t know if that was the truth but it worked on Jessica.
Once again she smiled, but it lost its brightness now. It looked dull. Jessica stepped
“I just don’t want you to get hurt, because I love you” , she never hesitated for a second before saying it, or before leaning forward and firmly placing her lips on mine.
I had dreamed of her kiss before, but In those dreams, I never thought it would be so terrifying. Behind us in the fortress the alarm rang. I rushed over to turn it off. Turning around, I came face to face with Jessica.
“Gone so soon?” She said with a smile that never touched her eyes
“ Yea, I should get home before my dad wakes up.”, I stammered.
Her face darkened and I stammered to reassure her.
“I just don’t want to disturb him,” I said. I waved goodbye and she watched me leave. Emerald eyes burning me with every step.
In my dream that night I saw a giant impaled on a massive sword. His body arching high into the air. Aileen laughed violently as blood poured over her. Turning her golden brown hair a bright red. Suddenly her piercing green eyes were on me.
“ Don’t you love me too, Calvin,” Aileen said. She cackled with laughter, blood filling her mouth as she tilted her head toward the sky, but the laughing only got louder.

I woke up sweating.

I didn’t go to school that day. I went straight to the forest. I stayed in the churchyard this time though and watched. I knew I was being silly. Everybody gets angry sometimes, it’s normal. It wasn’t just anger though. I had felt a deep rage, burning hatred and malice , and an overwhelming sense of danger in that moment.
It’s hard to explain,but I would give her the benefit of the doubt. I’ve always been a little jumpy, so it’s probably nothing.
I sat and waited for Jessica. I wanted to see what direction she came from, at least then I could be sure she was human. I know that’s silly, but I read a lot of fantasy novels then.
Unexpectedly I saw her walking across the treeline. A bright smile across her face. Had she slept in the forest? I went to approach her but then I had thought. I should follow her. What was she doing in the forest anyway.

I watched from a distance and as she drew further away. I followed her into the woods. This was insane. I should just confront her. I watched as she walked further into the woods.
Jessica began whistling, as she bent down to pick up a stick. It was a hefty branch but Jessica handled it easily
She didn’t whistle anything specific, she just whistled, and unexpectedly a bird joined in. The song is haunting and beautiful. I can almost see their voices weaving in and out as harmonies emerge and sink with the flow of the music. Jessica and the bird were face to face. Almost as if they were…talking? Then suddenly the stick swung out at the bird, the crack was audible and the song ceased immediately.
A gasp escaped my lip, I covered my mouth quickly, but her eyes darted in my direction immediately. She hadn’t seen me yet.
I’ve gotten pretty good at walking silently over the years, I focused on that as I slowly backed away. I couldn’t help but think about the animals, cowering away from Aileen. She relished in their fear. A wide smile split Jessica’s face. An unsettling, terrible smile.

The sun set slowly as I ran to my house. The time got away from me as I tried to find my way back out of the forest, I silently hoped I wasn’t too late.
I opened the backdoor to see my Dad sitting up in his chair. The beer bottle crashed against the wall beside me as he threw it.
“ Why is the school calling me and telling me you weren’t there, Calvin? What did I tell you about skipping school?” My dad yelled.
He hadn’t told me anything about skipping school. He hadn’t talked to me in over a year. I didn’t tell him this. I kept my mouth shut. The second beer bottle didn’t miss me, crashing against my shoulder. I felt the pain of the impact as the glass shards powdered my neck and face. My dad continued to yell. He got up closer, grabbing hold of my shirt.
His fist went up, but it wasn’t his fist that hurt me. It was the fear. It pierced into my heart like a spear, twisting into my chest, wrenching at my heart. He used to be a good father. Now he was a Beast. My face was bruised, and bloodied, and the fear continued to stab at my chest. The beast that was once my father, lunged forward again, knocking over beer cans and bottles and garbage. The doorknob found my hand, and I ran. The Beast followed, but he was hardly in any shape to run. I lost him almost immediately, but found myself with no place to go.
Except for the fortress. I ran quickly and quietly through the woods. My father had never been to the fortress, I wonder if he would have been proud of it. I pushed that thought away entering the doorway quickly, only to find myself greeted with bright emerald eyes. Her smile warped her features. She looked so happy, and yet I knew better.
“You’ve been avoiding me, Calvin.” Jessica said, “ I’ve scared you, but I just want to explain, and I’ll leave you alone”.
” I watched you kill that bird, today. You lured it out with your singing and then killed it”, I blurted it out before I could think. I waited for the sting of another attack, but Jessica only laughed.
“ I didn’t kill a bird, I killed a monster, Calvin. That’s what I do, I kill monsters. But you shouldn’t be afraid of me. I would never hurt you. I love you, Calvin”, Jessica said, closing the distance between us.
I thought back to the song, the magic in the harmonies… maybe it was a monster. I wasn’t sure who I could trust at that moment, but she had never hurt me before.

“CALVIN, I SWEAR TO GOD WHEN I FIND YOU BOY,”, My dad’s yelling got louder as he got closer.

“Who’s that?” Jessica asked.

I thought for only a second before saying,…. “A monster.”

In my mind’s eye, Jessica approached the bridge. The bird asked for its fare, but was disposed of quickly. The Beast took notice of Jessica, and the ground rumbled as he attacked. Moments later, Jessica approached. A smile adorning her face, and the head of the Beast adorning her belt.

This time, I smiled back.

The Man in the Mirror

    I stared into the mirror, and a tall, dark skinned man stared back. His movements were sluggish, as if he were trying to predict my next move. His eyes glazed over, as if staring just a little too far into the glass. I reached out a hand, and so did He. Our fingers met on the glass, and we both stared at our fingertips. A red stain marked the glass, proving its existence, although I couldn’t see it. All I could see was the world behind it. The world where He lived.

He didn’t speak, but he looked down at the red stain streaking the glass between us. I took comfort in the fact that there was a divide between us.  Why did He just stand there? Did he know something, I didn’t? Didn’t He know what was coming?  If He did, He didn’t act like it. Frustratingly He smiled a demonic smile. The smile of a man with no remorse, a man with no soul.

A gun sat on the countertop in front of him, he only glanced at it momentarily before looking back into my eyes. He looked disheveled, as if he hadn’t washed himself in days. His shirt was torn, and bloody. He smiled, of course. That dreadful smile. Why did he smile? I looked deeper into his world for an answer and found more questions. 

Blood. I saw blood covering the floor. A wall obscured my vision into the rest of the room behind him, but I saw long strands of orange-red  hair swimming in a pool of amber. It was obvious what happened, even obscured as it was. Someone was dead, and the man had done it. I leaned to the side slightly, and so did He, to get a better look. I saw her face, and instantly I recognized her. Her name was Cara. We were together for a little while, although I hadn’t seen her in a few days. He had killed her, had I done the same?

Of course not. We had a slight disagreement, sure, but that was a while ago. I would never go so far as to kill her. Although now that He had done it, I found myself feeling ashamed. Not the shame of remorse but the shame that comes with the lack of it.

             The man, reading my thoughts, smiled at me mockingly. I quickly looked down to the red streak. It was there. The mirror was still there. I breathed a sigh of relief, and he did the same. Smiling the whole time, as if to mock my movements. As long as He was on his side of the glass though, that was fine. The side of the glass with Cara’s body. 

Cara. She was a lovely girl. A pretty girl. Funny, beautiful, kind, and considerate. A girl all men want. A girl that I had. All people have their flaws, I’ve had more than my fair share of them, but she was different. She was perfect. That’s what I thought at least. 

I wonder if his situation was similar to mine. I wonder if He had dated her too, if He had fallen in love. I wonder if his heart was torn out, and ripped into shreds. I wonder if she looked at him with the same coldness she had looked at me with. I wonder if he watched that perfect facade crumble before his eyes, to reveal the serpent underneath

It’s enough to drive anyone mad, but I didn’t kill her, break ups happen often enough, and I deal with them and move on, but maybe The man didn’t. 

Maybe He waited until the sun went down and she was asleep. Maybe he broke into her apartment, with the spare key he knew was hidden under the mat by her door. Maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t exactly as asleep as He hoped she would be, and they had fought. The fight would have been loud, and the gunshot would have been even louder. 

The man in the mirror never stopped smiling. I hated that smile. I felt the anger bubble beneath the surface, as hatred burned into my soul. I hated that man in the mirror, and He knew it. That’s why he smiled. 

He knew I couldn’t hurt him, on that side of the glass. The red streak between us serving as a reminder of our separation. He mocked me, standing beside Cara, and I hated him for it. 

I did have something on him though. He wouldn’t move without me. I had the control. All I had to do was stand still, and He would never hurt anyone ever again.  I laughed at the absurdity, and he followed suit. I couldn’t hear him, but his motion mimicked my own. I hated him for that too. 

I heard the police open the front door to Cara’s apartment. They screamed and yelled, but I didn’t move. I held him in place, to meet his demise. I knew I could save him . All I had to do was lift my hands and do what the officer told him to do. He didn’t deserve it though. He deserved to stay right where He was. I looked at the red stain on the glass. He was still in his prison, where He would stay forever. This time I smiled, He mocked me with a grin of his own, as I reached for the gun, and fired. 

The End

The Dollmaker

Thud woosh

The Dollmaker lived on the edge of town. He kept to himself most days, but that didn’t stop the rumors from spreading. Usually rumors are par for the course in a small town such as the one we find ourselves in , but what do you do when the rumors are closer to the truth than you know?

Thud woosh

There was nothing particularly odd about this man. He was a tall, dark skinned man, in his early 60s. He didn’t often speak, but when he did he spoke in a rich, baritone voice He did have one eccentricity though. One thing that lit the rumor mill ablaze. The Dollmaker, if you can imagine, sold dolls.

Thud woosh

Rumors don’t always have a logical source, and of course the old man at the edge of town is ripe for forming rumors. However the rumors weren’t about him. They were about the dolls. Life-sized dolls, of all ages, races, genders, If you could name it, he probably had it.

Thud woosh

Not only life-sized , but life-like. Silky hair caressed there heads, and the eyes. Don’t look in there eyes, they say the reflection could drive you insane. They looked so real, it was almost as if they were posing. One might expect them to, get up, straighten themselves out, and walk out the store, and if the rumors were true, they could.

Thud woosh

The rumors were not entirely true, as you can probably guess, but that didn’t stop them from spreading. They told stories of people who went into the shop, and never came back out. Only to be found in the display window by their grieving mother. No evidence had ever been found to back this claim though.

Thud woosh

His real name was Henry Hunnicker, and as long as anyone could remember he’d always lived in town. He was a husband, and a father, and he led a happy life.

Thud woosh

Even then he was a quiet man. Opting to be a more action forward member of the community. Everyone in town knew that if something needed to be done, he was the guy to call, and with little more than a grunt of affirmation he would get it done.

Thud woosh

That was until the night his wife died. He tried to continue to help the community, but when grief strikes, it strikes true. He withdrew into himself and with his son out of the state for college, Henry Hunnicker was all alone.

Thud woosh

Henry was a valued member of the town however, and the town would help him out however they could. Even his son would come to visit more often, to show some support. They helped him get a job at the local cemetery.

Thud woosh

Now you might not understand the logic of that move. Why would Henry Hunnicker work at a cemetery, especially the very cemetery his wife was buried in. The close proximity to his wife comforted him, in a macabre way. The towns people found it a little strange how much time he spent at her grave, but “We all grieve differently” they would say. They never knew how right they were.

Thud woosh

A shovelful of dirt arced gently across the night sky. Then another, then another before Henry hit the lid of the coffin. She was a little dirty, but he’d clean her. He’d preserve her, and keep her safe.

Thud woosh

Transporting her was easy. The cemetery was also at the edge of town after all. He brought her home, and made good on his promises. He cleaned her up, changed her clothes. He painted her face a pale pink, and although he wasn’t good with makeup, he tried his best. Setting her on the chair, he admired his work.
His lovely wife. His first doll.

Thud woosh

Henry waited. He had covered his tracks but surely he missed something. He was certain that at any second he would here a banging at the door, and the unwelcome cry of “Police!”, but it never came. The cemetery owner called to ask why he wasn’t at work. The owner hadn’t noticed anything either. Henry smiled for the first time in a long time.

Thud woosh

Henry found that he had a knack for doll making. After the first one he just couldn’t stop. He found the whole thing to be exhilarating. A sort of therapy. Looking into the face of death and bringing it back to life.

Thud woosh

Though he soon encountered a problem, anyone with a collection of life sized dolls might have. He ran out of places to put them

Thud woosh

Quitting his job, Henry opened up shop. Henry was now the Dollmaker. Henry, if you can imagine, sold dolls

Thud woosh

Rumors continued to spread, but the Dollmaker brushed them aside. Little did they know, the truth lay shallowly beneath those rumors, but as long as nobody found it, The Dollmaker didn’t mind.

Thud woosh

And on quiet nights like this, when the wind blows just right, you can hear the

Thud woosh

of the Dollmakers shovel.

Thud woosh

Searching for his next masterpiece.

Thud.











The Casino

Lonely lamps light a dark and dismal road. The man lurking in the shadows pays them no mind. Opting instead to walk within the darkness. The shadows had always been good to him, hugging him closely and diverting the glances of would-be prying eyes. He glided gently through the empty streets, and were it not for the tap tap tap of his cane on the road. You might not have noticed him at all.. No place in particular came to his mind but he was sure that he would find what he was looking for. He had a knack for being exactly where he was supposed to be. Without rush the man walked. Tap tap tap.  

As bars go, the one that the man came to wasn’t a big one, Even still the silence when he walked in was deafening. Tap tap tap. The man’s features were no less ambiguous in light as they were in darkness, The hood of his jacket rested lazily on the top of his head. The man didn’t speak. He just sat. The man across from him, however, had more than enough words for the both of them. 

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this y’know”, the man said, a soft southern lilt coloring his voice. The man appeared to be in his mid-forties. Surely he was once  a handsome man, but now his face was ugly, angry, contorted. He lifted a bottle to his lips and took a long pull.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this” he said, He gave a soft chuckle and then with a sigh,

“I really do love her, you have to understand that. You have to understand. I wasn’t always an honest man, you see. I have my faults like anyone else, Gambling is my vice. I’m sure you have your own. It began as small bets, trying to guess who’ll win next week’s game and things like that, but these things tend to spiral don’t they and they spiraled me all the way down to the steps of that damned casino. 

Do you have a particular game you like at the casino? No I don’t suppose you would. I’m a poker guy myself. I’m not the best by any means, but I could hold my own. I realize I may be getting ahead of myself, so let’s back up a little,

           My wife was never a fan of gambling, My ex-wife I should say. I did it in secret though. Just small things. I never thought it was a big deal, just some harmless fun to pass the time. I continued that line of thinking all the way up to the point where I lost my job, I lost my wife soon after. I went job hunting, but I missed the interviews, and with the debt piling up I needed money quickly. Lucky me, I know a way to make a quick buck, “ He lets out a small chuckle, “I lost custody of my kid next. I know, boohoo, after what I probably put her through, it’s less punishment than deserved. I know. A stronger man would have taken a good hard look in the mirror, but I was too scared to do that. I don’t much like the person who looks  at me in the mirror anymore. I lost a lot, but in my head I only needed one big win and I would get it all back y’know. My money, my daughter, my job, my wife,  everything. It really is a sickness y’know. 

A sickness that seemed to spread, because not too long after, my daughter was diagnosed with a rare blood disease. Treatable,  but expensive. You can probably see where this story is going. Straight to that damned casino. Now as I said earlier, I’m not the best at poker, but I’ve won my fair share. When it comes down to it, I could hold my own against the average joe, but this wasn’t that kinda crowd. 

First thing you notice when you walk in is how dark it is. The lighting was sparse. In some spots there was hardly any lighting at all. It definitely wasn’t the kind of casino you see in tv shows. Dust and cobwebs covered almost every surface, like macabre decorations. I found the poker table easily enough, so I sat down to play. I told myself that I needed the money for my daughter, but I needed the money for many reasons. I was broke, and in debt, with no job, and the bills wouldn’t pay for themselves. I felt the weight of the cards, and felt like I was carrying the whole world on my fingertips.

The chips were in front of me. I was never told what the chips were for. Nobody ever spoke in that room. They looked dead, as if life slowly ebbed away with every push of a chip, Turns out I wasn’t far off. Cards shuffled into dead hands, instinctively I guarded my cards, but the others did not spare so much as a glance my way. They cleaned me out. I was  sure whatever I owed them was twice what I had , but when I went to try and work something out. The dealer smiled. 

His smile unnerved me. It wasn’t until he smiled that I realized I hadn’t really noticed him at all, It wasn’t until he smiled that I was able to even acknowledge his existence. His voice was crisp, and sliced through the silence like hot knife

“Your debt has been paid,” he said. 

I left quickly then. The place gave me the creeps, and I would have never stepped foot in that casino again if it hadn’t been for what I found out next. I walked in the front door of my house to find my ex wife on the couch. Eyes red, head in hand, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened. My daughter was dead. My ex-wife began to tell me about how my daughter had been doing well, maybe even improving but a few hours ago she started to decline. Bit, by bit, by bit. The dealer had said “Your debt has been paid”, and I imagined him smiling as I pushed chip after chip after chip until there was none left. “ Your debt has been paid” 

I ran back out of the house, the guilt eating away at my stomach. I ran back down the steps of that damned casino, The casino had a for sale sign on it. I pounded on the door, screaming and yelling, I begged to see that damned dealer’s face. The shop owner next door came out and told me that the place had been abandoned for a long time, but then the weirdest thing happened. His face went slack and he told me to come here to this bar. 

That’s when I met you” The man looks up from his bottle and stares at the hooded figure.

And the man under the hood smiled, his unnerving, unearthly smile.

“I suppose you’ve come to make a deal, then”, the dealer said “Unfortunately that’s not how casinos work” 

“What about a trade, you take me and my daughter comes back,  no strings attached.” The man said.

The dealer smiled, and pondered for a second before settling on an answer. 

“Interesting offer, but why would I take a tainted soul, over a pure one, no I’d rather keep it.  Although you’re more than welcome to play again. One big win, just like you’ve always wanted.”

“I don’t want that anymore” The man scowled,

“But of course you do,” The dealer said with a smile “ I’ll see you at the table”
The dealer stands up, he’s in no hurry. The dealer walked out the bar. No place in particular came to his mind, but he was sure he would find what he was looking for. He had a knack for being exactly where he was supposed to be. Without rush the man walked. Tap tap tap.