A Year of Stories: May Stories

(Disclaimer: I'll try to make this short . . .

I feel I must have a disclaimer to tell everyone what my idea for this blog is. It's getting to the point where there are a lot of posts and I fear the idea of the blog is getting lost. I am a young writer and I'm still trying to learn this art. Like any art I love to hear constructive criticism about my work, which is why I am posting my earliest drafts of my writing. Some of these drafts I have only looked over once or twice at best, and they may not be the very best I can do, but nevertheless, I want to show them off.

I'm looking for constructive criticism while I'm working. I am also trying to show everyone my progress as I grow as an artist. Being an artist of any kind takes a lot of work and time to make your craft perfect. And I want to show everyone that a man with a learning disability and dyslexia can be a writer. I may not be the greatest writer in the world and I'm alright with that, but I can be a writer who inspires people to create. Even if I only inspire one person to become an artist, I want to inspire them because my friends and family have done that for me. They have never given up on me and I want to show them the gifts that God has given me.

So with that said, I hope you enjoy my work. I would love to hear your ideas on what you would do to make the writing better. Also, if a draft get removed it's because I'm working on it or I feel like it doesn't need to be on my blog anymore. Thank you for your time, I know reading can take a while. So I thank you again.

With a handshake,

Chase L. Currie)

 A Boy’s Night Out

Silent and Hellfire

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By: Chase L. Currie

Neo-Charlotte,

Second Earth or Mars,

The ship should be arriving in about ten minutes, Divine whispers into the minds of the giant metal man, known as Hellfire and the assassin, known as Silent. They sit on top of a building, looking over the space dock on Lake Norman while waiting for a small smuggler ship to break orbit. Divine, their leader sent them on a mission to stop some group of mercenaries from carrying out their own mission. The cutthroats have been hired to take out some very important people in the city, along with the people's family. When the Covenant of Vigilance got wind of this attack they moved to stop it. They tracked down the identity of the mercenaries group and their targets. Now they wait to put the mission to an end.

Divine, the man trapped in their underground base called the Sanctuary, has moved his people to fight back. He sent Silent and Hellfire to attack the group of killers head on while sending Iris and Arcane to protect the targets.

Keep eye open, Divine orders as Silent sighs looking over at Hellfire standing by his side. Hellfire crosses his arms; his empty black eyes look down at the man in a black hooded cloak. We got this, David, Hellfire said, check in on the ladies.

Divine didn't say anything back. “About time he got out of our heads,” Silent mumbles to himself or Hellfire. His voice is hard and rough like a man who has had a cold for far too long. He stands up looking at the dark rain clouds reaching over the sky, waiting for the rain to come pouring down. “The ship should have been here by now,” he said, letting his cloak get caught by the wind.

Hellfire eyes the blowing cloth and wonders how he fights in the cape. He’s seen the assassin fight and somehow the cape doesn't get caught on anything. It's as if the black cloth falling down his back is just a part of him, like wings of a devil. Sometime, the cloak moves like it has a mind of own.

The wind kicks back in a flash and Hellfire sees Silent's hand resting on the hilt of his blade. He’s yearning for blood but it's not the fact that Silent wants to kill that has Hellfire studying his hand. It's the odd yellow gauntlet called a Cleric around his hand and forearm that has Hellfire's gaze. The source of Silent's power and Hellfire wonders how the magical item works.

He doesn't like believing in magic and yet the realm is full of it. In fact, one of his friends, Arcane, is a witch. She uses magic every time they enter battle and yet he seems not to understand how it works. He tries to understand how she cast spells. He asks her about it and if he could do experiments to figure out where the power of magic comes from but it all fails. Arcane would talk, in what seems like riddles to Hellfire. She would say things about pulling the mana from her soul, using her life force to cast the spell, quickly whispering it to herself. The words alone carrying magic with them and Hellfire doesn't understand any of it. There is so much that he sees in his life that he can't seem to grasp.

He's a man of logic and science, of empirical evidence; facts he can test and understand, not magic. He doesn't believe in some other form of life outside of what he can test and see. But his life, every day, proves to him there is more than he understand, than anyone knows. The fact that one of his closest friends, Iris, is a girl born in the After-Life and pulled into this realm blows his mind. He tells himself she is an ally not the child of death.

“It will be,” Hellfire said, his voice muffle by his steel mask. A mask that seems more like a helmet with green face paint on it. The paint outlines some ancient design, from some ancient warriors, giving him an intimidating form. Not that he is an ancient warrior, even if he feels like it sometimes. He has fought battles and wars, his whole life and he had hoped that in his death it would end. But it hasn't, not since he was put into this cage that they call a body. “Could have been slowed down by the storm,” Hellfire tells his friend.

“I'm sure that’s it,” Silent tells him, looking up at him with his face hidden by a black mask with two red lines running down over his eyes and stopping right above his cheeks. His eyes are a brighter yellow than the Cleric around his hand. “Or they could have picked a different landing point.”

“I doubt it,” Hellfire replies, wanting to ask him why he wears the mask. But the question almost seems pointless because Silent doesn't really know why. It's part of his training. The Clan of Kore trained him to wear a mask when out on a mission. He's never questioned it because he never knew he had to. The mask is as much a part of him as the blades at his side or the Cleric around his hand and the will to kill. Hellfire could almost guess that the mask is who he really is.

A boom pulls Hellfire from his thoughts as they see a small ship fall from the sky. The burning lights around it tell them that the ship is slowing down and heading for the blacked out dock.

Silent steps closer to Hellfire, putting his hand on his arm and says, “I miss the good old days when we just fought normal gang bangers, beat up some bad cops, and saved a kitten or two from a tree.”

“I don't remember those days,” Hellfire reply and if he had lips he would be smiling. He tries to make sure his voice carries some sort of humor in it but he's afraid he sounds more robotic than amused.

The ship lands, the docking bay doors open, and a group of people in Combat Suits step out. They seem to be armed to the teeth with weapons and armor around them hiding their faces and their gender. Not only does the armor hide them but it also enhances their natural abilities, giving them the ability to fight longer and harder. If the person wearing the suit is trained to fight or trained to be a solider, the power can be almost inhuman. This is why the Combat Suit was invented in the first place.

The group of mercenaries looks around the dark building, almost as if they were waiting on someone and then they all turn back to the docking bay doors. A man about the size of Hellfire, steps out wearing a Combat Suit. He gives a few orders and two of them quickly rush off to secure the area.

One of them, a middle sized one with a sniper rifle, shoots left just in time to see the glowing flames of Hellfire's hands lighting up and his eyes starting to breathe the same color fire. The sniper stops only to see the eerie green luminous glow of the giant metal warrior as he steps out of the darkness.

The sniper ducks and rolls as Hellfire throws a ball of fire at him and quickly everyone turns to see Hellfire rushing for their sniper. He ducks again but is caught by the hand of the steel beast and thrown backwards, sailing into the group of his allies. He looks up as the others pick him up off of the ground.

One of them raises his gun and aims it right at Hellfire when they all hear another gunshot go off. The smallest one, the one who went right, falls to the ground dead. A black figure with two sliver blades hides in the darkness. One of the short swords is now dripping with a dark crimson red. Everyone pauses as the blades fade into the blackness and the only thing left is two yellow eyes. The eyes of an unseen devil.

The big one, the leader of the group, orders two members to rush to their fallen comrades while the room erupts in a wave of gun shots. A thousand little explosions light the room in a flash of white mixed with yellow. The thundering sound deafens anyone who isn't used to the sound of a battle. Wave after wave of high powered rounds fill the air around Hellfire.

He charges the three mercenaries shooting at him, knowing the bullets will do little damage to him. If he can get to them in time what damage they may do over a long period won't matter.

The bullets try as hard as they can to stop the steel man but they fail. They beat against his shell like rocks against a tank. Soon the bullets give up and the people firing them realize they are having no effect. They drop their guns, and pull swords from their backs or knives from their sides and ready themselves for a close quarter assault.

The other two reach their dead friend in time to see the devil's eyes disappear. They quickly take aim at the darkness where Silent should be, hoping they will not have to fight another android or cyborg. Their guns open the flood gates of fire and bullets but they only waste a couple of shots, soon seeing there is nothing in the space where the devil was. He disappears leaving only darkness and death in his awe.

Hellfire stops only feet from the three armored people, just in time for Silent to drop out of the air, striking one of them but not killing him. His blades have a hard time getting through the thicker armor. Realizing this, he disappears into nothingness again. The man looks behind him where the clashing sound came from.

One of them yells back to their leader, “He can teleport!” Silent steps out of the black reddish storm beside Hellfire, holding his blades at his side, and he walks towards the three armored warriors like death himself.

Hellfire wastes no time, he moves with lightning speed, knocking his fists into the man with the thick armor. The armor rings from metal against metal and the poor soul under it stumbles back a little. He shakes his head, trying to not feel the pain from the giant fists and then he dashes forward with his knives aiming for any weak spot in Hellfire's armor.

Hellfire blocks the knives, hitting the man in the chest, but nothing happens. A foot catches Hellfire in the side of the head. He stumbles to the right a little. The hit was stronger than he thought it would be. The man or woman under the armor must have been trained for years. This fight is not going to be easy but Hellfire knows how to end it quick.

He moves around another strike, blocking another attack, and then cups the warrior’s helmet. In a flash of a screaming green fire, he melts the steel around the warrior's head. He or she falls to the ground, not dead but close to it. If they don't get help soon they'll be dead but either way his or her face will never be the same. Hellfire moves to attack the leader of the group as Silent fights the others.

Two of the warriors, the newest to the group, fell without much trouble. It was easy for Silent to see the new bloods in the group. They hesitated when Silent left an opening for them. Even if the opening was a trap, they still should have tried to take it. He knew that they have never fought a highly trained assassin before and now they know, as they lay there bleeding to death, never hesitated in combat. But the other two were giving him a hard time. They had rush back to the battle once Silent had taken out their friends. They seem to know what they were during. Veterans of the last war, better trained and better fighters, what Silent has been itching for all night.

The dance between blocking and striking was getting old fast. Silent could keep it going on night but it would get him nowhere. The idea of the fight was to kill his foe not spar with them, but every time he moves to hit them they would block. They have fought assassins before and knew how to stop themselves from dying. Sadly, they didn't know how to take Silent out either.

He blocks a few kicks, a punch or two, and a strike from a sword. He had to think of something to change the tide of battle. Then he thought of it. The taller one of the two, launches a straight attack for Silent's head. If he blocked it and went in for an attack then the teammate would stop Silent from hitting his mark. So the only thing to do was remove one of them from the fight. He quickly, in a flash, grabs the armor hand teleporting away.

Silent and the warrior fell to the ground on the other side of the building. It would take a moment for his teammate to get to them. A moment is all Silent needed. The blade moves like lightning and felt like it too. It sends shock through the warrior's body as they reached for their throat. They felt to the ground, trying to hold back the flood gates of blood but the gates were failing. Silent heard a cry from under the helmet and then another scream from the other side of the building. The warrior's teammate rush for his lover.

Silent could see it in his body. He drops his blades, throwing his body on to his lover as Silent steps out of the way. He wrapped his arms around her head as the last moment of her life fade with him in her sight. There was no helping her, no saving her from the wound. Silent didn't let his foes live so they could come back for revenge.

“Leave,” Silent order. “You can live with the memory of her.”

“No,” he said. “I can't.”

“I can end it quickly for you then?”

“Please, if you would,” the warrior asks, holding his head down. Silent drops his blade through the back of his neck. It was a quick kill, an honorable way to go. The body falls onto of his lover lifeless and bleeding out. Silent didn't give his deed a second thought as he turned to see the battle still raging on.

Hellfire folded his arms over this chest taking the full blunt of the hit. The leader of the group, the biggest one, was just as strong as Hellfire thought he would be. The person under the armor knew their body well and knew how to use every inch as a weapon. Luckily for Hellfire he was on even ground with this man.

Hellfire took another hit. Then seeing another fist fall at him, he side stepped, to wrap his hand around the armor arm, and throw the man to the ground. Normally, Hellfire is a brawler, just power and speed to win the battle but Silent has shown him the technique that can always beat power. But there was little technique needed for what Hellfire was doing now. He dropped one of his fists onto the armor chest of the man lying on the ground, and then dropped another. It was like a jackhammer beating at the ground. It was only a matter of time before the ground would give away.

A hand smacks against the steel helmet of Hellfire's face and with a blow of light Hellfire fell to the side. The hand shot back as the forces of the blast almost blew Hellfire's face apart. The leader of the group had a door charger built into his palm. The gloves were made for SWAT team to open doors by blowing away the locks but as many had found out, they worked wonders against people's faces.

Hellfire stumbled to his knees, holding his face, trying to stop the world from spinning on him. He grabbed both sides of his head hoping that would help, it did. It was just in time for him to see a foot smash against him, knocking him to the ground. The giant man standing over him pulls a long knife from his back. Hellfire couldn't see the grin under his helmet but he knew it was there.

The pointed sliver edge fell like the blade of guillotine. There was no stopping the force of the hit. No way to free his self from this fate. The moment didn't slow down, like it does in the movies, which was a lie that Hollywood told us. In fact, everything seems to speed up just a little. The blade moves at an unnatural speed. Hellfire life was going to end, again. But this time there was no coming back from it.

The blade screams in defiance as Silent blocks it with his swords. The man in the black hood kicks with all his might against the giant warrior’s head. The man stumbles back, not falling, but taken by surprise as Silent stood in front of him. He looked around to see all of his men are out of the count, hurt, dying, or dead already.

“So it's true,” the man said, looking at Silent, but really looking for a gun. “A son of Kore is working with the Convent.”

Silent said nothing while Hellfire stood back up, stepping around his friend, glowing green fire spewed from his eyes.

“I didn't think Kore allowed their children to be free,” the man said, but Silent was already tired of him talking. He flashes away, flashing to the man’s side. It took the warrior off guard but not enough for Silent to land the killing blow. The man blocks the attack but didn't see Hellfire’s knee coming for his chest. The force of the hit throws the man's body up in the air. He fell to the ground coughing. Hellfire and Silent was sure he was coughing up blood. Hellfire hit him with all his might and all that might dents the armor around his chest.

He looked up at Silent, telling them, “I always have an exit plan!”

Flames shot out from all the windows of the building and the structure buckles in on itself. Then as if someone kicked out the building’s legs the roof came crumbling in along with the walls. After the dust fades from sight, little fire pits breathe from under the stone building, Silent and Hellfire sat on the outside of it. Both of them look at what was a building but it was nothing more than a pile of stones; a pile that they are not going to have to clean up. Silent stands up looking at his cloak hood, covered from head to toe in dust.

“Didn't think you could teleport that fast,” Hellfire said, watching him try to clean off his shoulder, but nothing was working.

“Either did I.”

“You mean, you could have killed us?!”

“I figiured there was a good chance we were dead one way or the other. So might as well die in the name of science. I figured you would think it would be ironic.”

“I hate you!” Hellfire said, standing up, placing a hand on Silent's shoulder.

“I know you do,” he smiled under his mask.

“Let's go home,” Hellfire tells him, “so we can get Aisling to show you how to wash your cloak.”

 Happiness at the Table

Divine and Iris

By: Chase L. Currie

The long pale hand of Divine moves his black pawn across the broad, taking out another white pawn. He sits back looking down at the board, thinking to himself of his next move, and listening to the man's voice inside his head tell him what white piece to move next. He reaches over, moving the white knight up and across the board, taking out his pawn.

“Good move, Tommy,” Divine said to the dying old man across the city.

“You always make the same first few moves, David,” the voice said back.

“You might think you understand my plan,” Divine grins moving his knight to take out the white one, “but that is all part of my strategy.”

“I guess you wouldn't let a dying man win one, would you?” Tommy asks.

“Only if you beat me fair and square,” Divine said, looking over to the door of his library. He studies the steel door sitting in the stone wall of his underground home. The walls are thick and gray, with the door a darker shade. He stared at it for a long moment, waiting for the knock that never comes.

“Is it my move?” Tommy's voice asks inside the head of one of the realms most powerful telepath.

“Sorry old friend,” Divine tells him, folding one of his legs over the other, cupping his hands, and never looking away from the door, “but we'll have to continue this later.”

“Hopefully not too much later,” Tommy somewhat jokingly said, “don't know how much longer I'll be around.”

The voice fades from his mind like a long echo and Divine waits for the knock to come. The person outside the door seems to be walking around in circle not sure if she is ready to knock. She seems nervous about something. Divine rises to his feet, and heads for the door. His long legs move with a calm speed as if there is a thousand years to get where he is going. He stops still waiting for her to knock.

“Iris,” Divine says right into her mind.

“Yes, David?” she quietly replies.

“Are you going to knock or not?”

“Oh, hmmm . . . right,” she says, with a tiny knock on the steel door. Divine presses the button on the other side of the wall to open it. The dark steel door slides open to present a tiny, thin pale girl with eyes that are a mixture of blue and green looking up at him. She stands there for a moment as he heads back for his chair.

“Well come on in,” he tells her and she rushes to join him. She jumps in the chair across the table from the game of chess. Divine slowly sits down like an old man, even though he's only about 33.

He watches her before saying anything. The girl, who was born of the After-Life and pulled into the realm of the living, sees everything as new, because everything is new to her. The ceiling above her head is big, circular, and ever-changing, like the sky outside. Then her head turns to look at the thousands and thousands of books in Divine's library.

Divine smiles at the thought of how beautiful she seems, with a beauty like that of a child. Her nose is long, her jaw reminds him of a boy and there even a boyish charm to her, but she is lovely, pure innocence. Finally, she turns to look at his pale blue eyes and white hair, smiling at him.

“So what can I do for you, Iris?” Divine ask. “Is Silent being hard on you again with your training?”

“Not really,” she said, moving her legs under her butt, “no harder than normal.”

“Ah, I see,” he tells her. “So this is more of a personal matter then?”

“I guess you can say that,” she quietly said, looking oddly at the black and white board in front of her. She leans over to study the pieces, wondering what this game was all about. She knew it was a game, she could tell by the way everything was set. She knew it was chess too because she had seen pictures of it in her history books. Those are books she doesn't really like reading. She moves to touch one of the queens when Divine stops her, saying, “It's rude to mess with someone's unfinished game.”

“Oh, sorry,” she said, sitting back in the giant red chair. Then she looks around for the person Divine is playing with but there seems to be no one else in the room. Aisling is hanging out with Hellfire right now. Iris knows that for a fact, she just came from there. And Silent is out on patrol probably beating up some poor gang member for the hell of. So who in the world was he playing with? “No one’s here.”

“No,” he tells her. “I've been playing with this gentleman who’s dying of old age for some time now. The game keeps his mind out of the pain and well, he's a good chess player. I can always use a good sparring partner.”

“The game kind of looks boring,” she said, looking down at the table. “There needs to be more colors and flashing lights.”

“It's not a game for entertainment, my dear,” Divine said, “but a game of the mind. It's about knowing when to make a move and when not too. It's also about reading how people react in a stressful situation.”

“Still sounds boring,” she replies.

“I guess it could be,” Divine said, taking a little sip of his red wine. “So you didn't tell me why you are here.”

Iris starts to play with the oversized black shirt that she got from Silent. She doesn't look right at Divine, but at the floor like a child who’s in trouble. Her hands are covered in black gloves, because if she was to touch any flesh, she would burn it off. Then she starts to say, “I was standing in line earlier today about to order some pizza when I overheard some people talking. They weren't talking about anything bad, that I know of, they were just telling stories to each other and laughing.”

“And?”

“Well, they were talking about all the things they had done with their lives,” she said, looking up at him. “And I started to hate them for it.” She confesses while looking away.

“Why?”

“I don't know,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “There was just this loud thumping sound coming from my chest, my blood ran hot and I was mad at them. I couldn't believe they got to be happy all of the time when they didn't have to fight for it. We fight all kinds of evil and we don’t get to be happy like them. I wanted to be like them. I want to be happy all the time.”

Divine grins, “Sounds like envy to me.”

“Oh . . .envy, huh?” She said. “I only felt that once before . . .and that was a long time ago.”

“Yes,” he tells her, “but you understand we all feel envy when it comes to other people, some more than others of us. You know, you are not them and your life will always be different from theirs. Iris,” Divine asks, “you understand emotion far more than anyone I know, why are here asking me about them?”

“In fact I know, I don't understand it. Everyone tells me I have to learn how to control what I'm feeling but lately I'm not sure what I'm feeling. It wasn't like this before. I just felt something and knew what it meant and went on with my day. But now, now everything is all confusing. Everyone wants to act like they understand themselves when they are all lying. I'm not sure I'm cut out for this place. I'm sure I understand why they are happy,” she said. “They have lives of eating out all the time, going to work, and having families. While we have the real lives; we save people, we fight for a real cause, while they just want their money, their stuff. It just doesn't seem fair, we deserve to have happiness.”

Divine takes another drink of his wine and says, “Our lives are different from most people but what we do they will never understand. We fight to make sure they can have those happy lives, even if they are not happy all the time. You have to understand, Iris, we do what is right because we have the power to do it. You always do what is right because it's right, no matter the cost and even if that cost is your happiness.”

“Do we ever get to have that kind of happiness?” She asks, looking dead at him.

“One day, you might be able to have it,” he replies. “When we find Dr. Vain. You are free to live your life however you want, that includes trying to find the happiness at the table. You can leave if you wish because I can't promise you, you'll find happiness here.”

“What about all of us?”

Divine cocks his head a little, grins, and said, “They are all welcome to come and go as they wish but when they are here, they know that the mission comes first. I hold all of you to the same standard.”

“And you, when does the mission end for you?”

He sits back for a moment, looking at her. His face becomes hard and cold like how he normally looks. “I think, I should get back to my game of chess, Iris.”

“Sorry, David,” she said, looking down. “I didn't mean to bring it up.” Iris knows like everyone else in the underground base that David can never leave the walls of his home. A powerful spell has been placed over him that binds him the walls of the Sanctuary. Sometimes, most the time, it's a sore spot for Divine. He wants to leave and see the world but he can't. There is no end for him.

“It's alright, Iris,” Divine says, standing up and she follows suit. “I just need to get back to my game is all. Tommy doesn't have a lot of time left.”

“David?” She asks while being lead to the door. “I don't feel like I'll ever be happy. What if I don't know how to be?”

Divine stops where he was, looking down at the shy girl as he remembers what she was like when she first came here. She was overwhelmingly aware of emotions and the overwhelming feeling of the world around her. She said it was because in the After-life there was nothing but emotions, no walls to stop them from flooding over it. At first Divine was horrified at the thought not controlling his feeling but then he realized it wasn't about control. He talked to Iris about it once and she said you just had to learn how govern them better. But now, she sounds like everyone else. As if the realm of life finally built walls around her.

“Happiness is a mission onto itself, my dear,” he said sitting a hand on her shoulder. “And sadly, when it comes to this life, it's a mission that is never ending.”

“Is that why you keep fighting?”

He steps back a little putting his hands into his pockets. “You think I project the search of happiness on the mission at hand.”

“I think,” she said, “you are like me and you don't know how to be happy and if you have something else to force on then you don't have to search for what you really want.”

“Damn, little girl,” he said, smiling. “You have no idea how good you are at reading people.”

“I was right then?”

“Not exactly but close,” he said, opening the door and kindly pushing Iris out of his room. “Go see Silent, he just got back from his patrol.”

“Alright,” she said, slowly walking down the hallway.

“Good night, Iris.”

“Good night, David.”

(Next month will be Airy Knoll stories.)