Chapter 4: not a helping hand

Chapter 4: not a helping hand

Chapter 1: (Part 1 / Part 2) Chapter 2: (Part 3 / Part 4) Chapter 3: (Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 ) Chapter 4: Part 8


“NO!”
“KODA!”
“Koda! Are you alright?” Hands grabbed me and turned me sideways. “Did you let the switch go?” Something smelled burnt. My ears rang. First thing, I thrust my left fist up the dead-man-switch securely in my hand, then I opened my eye. “Thank God, I thought I; you’re – here.” We locked eyes. Mother Goose kneeled in front of me, face pale, eyes shining as I’ve never seen before.

Huh, there were a lot of things I experienced for the first time today. Might be my newest hobby. I grabbed his arm, and he pulled me up and into a bear hug. Okay, unexpected, another first. Well, uh, I surprised myself by blushing hard, and you guessed it. Definitively a new hobby to show off. The heat in my chest and cheeks made my heart forget how to kick my head into gear. I drew a blank. “Attaboy,” Sam Spade waved from afar. I wasn’t sure he meant me or Mother. Awkward, but nothing to be ashamed of, just sayin’.

Continue reading “Chapter 4: not a helping hand”

Devil’s Peak (5b)

Devil’s Peak (5b)

Part 1 Superstition / Part 2 Names for Blades/ Part 3 Sin-eater / Part 4 Threshold / Part 5a Tainted blood

Triggerwarning: cruelty, injury, predatory behavior

Part 5 b

-TAINTED BLOOD-

“He was searching for a human child. Your handiwork?” I growled at its gaping mouth and its pulsing tongues. Its tiny eyes fixed on the glowing markings on my flanks. If it had brows or a forehead, it would have looked suspiciously.

“Yes, intruder,” it sizzled with a hollow thrumming in its throat flaps. Continue reading “Devil’s Peak (5b)”

kind of emergency drill

kind of emergency drill
Storycluster: Devil's Peak; 
character studies: Mark Smith, Frank Edwards

Mark couldn’t hold up his enigmatic misanthrope act. Today, he let me see his friendly side. The scotch made him chatty and I was nice and cozy in a beer-fog. Perfect match. The late afternoon droned with the noises of the forest’s edge.

The bugs screeched. Meme, the dog, barked from the shore at us. Some campers shouted and scream-laughed somewhere on the side of the lake. Chainsaw noises faded into the distance, and the dark waters of the lake whispered to the purplish hue of the fading daylight. Bah! Took a swig from the bottle. Looked like a nauseating postcard picture. A big cheesy blown kiss from Mother Nature that smacked me right where my heart was. A kiss, like poison ivy rash; itchy, blistering feeling, where I just couldn’t reach. Swollen. Red. A raw spot. My hands shook and with them the fishing pole.

Continue reading “kind of emergency drill”

Devil’s Peak (alt 1)

Devil’s Peak (alt 1)
alternative D.P. with changed POV, bc I suck & wrote myself into a corner. So here you go.
Parent text: here

PART 1

-SUPERSTITION-

The call saved me from kennel cleaning. Thank God to whoever rang.

I sat in my mock-ffice, in the nook between a dresser that was a stand-in for a kitchen counter, the wall, and a bunk-bed. Across the half breakroom, half guestroom was a real office, and it belonged to Ranger Mark Smith. I tried to listen to the call he just received in the most casual way I could manage without falling over. To be honest, all I had to lean on, was a white plastic folding table behind a cardboard stand with an assortment of fliers and educational pamphlets about the fauna and flora, as well as general information about campgrounds, and some new pencils. Yay. Continue reading “Devil’s Peak (alt 1)”

Fox, Wolf and Dragon (1)

Fox, Wolf and Dragon (1)
Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, 
M.E.L.Unit1;
Date:29.10. 
Officers: 
Kuro (BLACK, han'yo), 
Lou Rouxgaroux (Lou Wolfwolf, werewolf), 
Felix Kanagawa (HAPPY Kanagawa river, river spirit)

Part 1     HQ

Lou sat on the office couch reading his book.

Well… No, he didn’t. He was pretending to read, and he was pretending to sit. Being a werewolf seemingly gave him cat-like abilities to turn into liquid in and on any surface or furniture.

Lou was focused on Felix’s lunch.

How could I tell?

I was eying that lunch too. Continue reading “Fox, Wolf and Dragon (1)”

bruises

bruises

“I admit, it was a kneejerk reaction,” John shivered. We were both nearly naked and dripping wet. The dive I took into the frozen lake was an accident, and John did his best to rescue me. He had a conscience after all. It was his fault that I broke in, in the first place. So he pulled me out, brought me back to the mansion. The blanket I had on my shoulders started itching. I hoped his itched as well. Continue reading “bruises”

Hangover (M.E.L.)

Hangover (M.E.L.)

My nastiest hangover is mainly the minister’s fault.

Unlike any usual stiff diplomatic, Minister Kagekamui is an outstanding man, with more secrets up his sleeve, than stars in the sky.

He catches me one winter night, at a poker table, with the foxes and the tanuki. It is the middle of my underground shift, and I’m supposed to be on the watch for rogue magical entities, not playing transformation poker with them. But it is such a beautiful night, and Consul Kitsune has his 31st birthday party.  Continue reading “Hangover (M.E.L.)”

almost friends

almost friends

– 1 –

I slouched on my bunk and stared at the ceiling hologram revolve. It was the boiling ocean throwing itself against the rocks of some shore. It was Kageshima’s time to watch the sea. In about one hour I would change it to the starry night sky over the Sonoran Desert. This was relax time, after a 25 hour shift on the transporter taking us to the mining regions in the asteroid belt.

With us I meant, Ivanov, Rico, Kageshima and me. Captain Rizzo would remain on board. Five men wedged into a tin can floating through the black emptiness of the space, heading towards some expensive rocks and dirt. The journey we just started would take seven months. Continue reading “almost friends”

Alec, the (war)time-tours guide

A Chuck Wendig prompt - create a character

Ah, is this gonna be one of those interviews? I’ll have none of that. Thanks.

Of course I know what you wanna ask! ‘Sex, age, job, full name and shoe size? Pimples on my ass?’ Well? 

I’m a time traveller. Obviously.  Did I just stutter? Could you stop wasting my time? You know what?

Shut up! I’ll talk. I tell you something people never ask. I travel through time. Yes. I sounds insanely badass and mysterious, but it’s horrible.

I can’t shake off the wooziness. I’m nauseous nearly all day. Can’t eat or drink too much, cause I throw up. I have to eat a lot of sweets, so my brain doesn’t crash after a jump.

My hands shake whenever I get stressed, and I’m stiff in the morning. Not the good kind of stiff. My cold joints hurt, my back aches and it stops when I’m moving. So I have to move. Constantly.

I have to run, jog so I can walk properly.

Nightmares are my routine. 

How’d you feel, if you’d forget your daughter’s first steps, or her birth? Yes, I’ve been there. Seen her, laughed with her, hugged her, nuzzled with her and sucked in her sweet scent… Tell me, would you trade those memories?  For money?  For some egomaniacs, who plays war-safari and kill, without risks? Cause they’ve got privilege, ‘n enough money to buy themselves the right to kill people.

I want to throw up, every time I see one of those sleek suits.

It’s a disease. The doctors call it temporal multi-sensorial memory runaway. A special kind of retrograde amnesia.

But you’ve heard of time traveller’s disease, haven’t you?

There you go. Now do something with that!