The Mindful Mind of Myndtrip

Rebirth: Manifest Tales

2011-04-12T17:50:00.000-07:00

In the unlikely event anyone is still receiving updates for this page, here's an update: I am officially restarting this series, albeit under a different name and site. I've started reposting these stories at http://manifest-tales.blogspot.com/ under the new title Manifest Tales. I'm posting them over the next week for new readers and whatnot. They are mostly unchanged. A few minor edits here and there were needed to facilitate some new ideas in the story line, the most obvious being Sandi's name change to Lilly, but for the most part they are the same.

A new tale is in the work and will be ready by the time I've reposted the current ones. From then on I should have at least one new Episode up per week. My ultimate goal is two or maybe even three a week, but don't hold your breath...

So if, by some crazy chance of luck, you're reading this post, head over to http://manifest-tales.blogspot.com/ and follow the continuing story!

...coming soon, Manifest Tales 12 "Trust Issues" a tale of Sasha the Super Spy

Reboot?

2009-03-21T18:02:00.000-07:00

I'm contemplating a major rewrite on the story. Mostly because it's just not where I want it to be. Like I said in one of my first posts, I've essentially been thinking about it since I was 12, but most of the characters so far were created in the last couple of years, which means almost all of my "main" characters haven't even made an appearance 11 stories in.

So I'm starting over, kind of. Many of the elements will continue, but much will change. I'm not sure yet if I'll be posting the rewrite or not. I'm most likely going to try and work it in to an actual novel, but we'll see.

To my faithful readers (all 4 of you) I'm sorry I'll be leaving you hanging, but in the end I had to do what feels right for what has been a nearly life long passion.

Wish me luck...

Adept Tales 11 "Visitors at Midnight"

2009-03-02T16:37:00.000-08:00

Joshua felt the rage only seconds before his office door splintered inward. Before he could react Agony was on him, slamming him into the window behind him. “Why me?!” he screamed slamming Joshua again. “Why did you pick me? Why?” Agony didn’t give him an opportunity to answer, slamming him one more time, but with less force. Joshua could only watch as the rage turned to sorrow, anger giving way to tears. Agony slumped, sliding to Joshua’s side and going to his knees. With his head rested on the glass he gave a weak punch to the ground and whispered nearly inaudible again, “Why me?”

The near silence stretched, the only sound the soft sobbing of the large man. Joshua could see him trying to rebuild himself, trying to regain his composure, slowly clawing back from the brink. Finally he spoke again, this time flatly, “They came in the night. They killed all the men first. All except me. Although I wasn’t really a man yet, barely 13. But they knew what I was, so they spared me. Instead they made me watch. Torture and rape aren’t strong enough words for what they did. Then they were gone, and I was alone, surrounded by the death they left behind.” Agony let out a shiver and a sigh and stood, “I couldn’t stop them then, and I couldn’t stop them tonight, but I will make them pay.” He turned his head to Joshua, face filled with thoughts of revenge, “I will make them pay.” Agony turned and left, reforming the door behind him, leaving Joshua to question whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. Or whether it even mattered in the aftermath of the horror the Vendot had left behind.

The lightning flashed theatrically as Rand looked out the warehouse window, the strobe making his reflection dance in the glass. Perfect, it was all going perfect. Distribution was in full effect. By tomorrow Stardust would be in almost every home in Vegas. Soon the city would be his. The lightning flashed again, and when the darkness returned his reflection wasn’t alone. Behind him, sitting on some boxes was a woman idly twirling a small knife in her hand. Rand spun and froze in fear as recognition took him.

The voice that came wasn’t from the woman, but instead floated on the shadows like a living thing, “You’re pretty proud of yourself aren’t you Rand?” A man formed from the darkness and stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back. He moved like a teacher ready to scolded a wayward pupil.

Rand’s face went stark white, “Ashton, I--” A slight movement from the woman cut off his words.

“Excuses already Rand?” the man asked as he walked towards a shelf holding containers of the product. Ashton picked up one of the jars of purple crystals and examined it. “Stardust,” he said with a small chuckle, shaking his head. He returned the jar and turned back toward Rand, hands clasped again behind his back, “An interesting idea, but he believes you lack vision.”

“But I--” The knife was suddenly in his throat, words and his scream cut off by the blade shredding his vocal cords. Just as suddenly Ashton was in front of him, eyes burning with black fire.

“If you wish to question his beliefs I suggest you wait and do it in person.” Ashton wretched the knife from Rand’s throat and handed it back to the dark mistress behind him.

When Rand’s neck and vocal cords reformed he managed to ask raggedly, “He’s--he’s coming here?”

Ashton leaned in so their faces were inches apart. The lightning flashed theatrically, “Yes, yes he is.”

iii

She approached the castle on her steed. In the tower window her raven haired vixen waited to be saved. She battled through the guards, ascended the spiral stairs, burst through the iron door and was in her arms. Tash’s cell phone ringing shattered the dream. Groggily she rolled and fumbled for the phone, “Hello?”

“Agent Tash? It’s Bradford in holding. She keeps asking for you. Jacob okayed a visit, but it has to be now.” Tash was up and out the door in seconds. She hadn’t been allowed to see Sandi since she brought her in, but every night since, it seemed, she dreamt about her.

Tash always felt that the holding center in Sage headquarters resembled something closer to a hospital then a detention center, but the security left no doubts about its purpose. She wasn’t sure why they were taking such measures with the girl, but Tash trusted Sasha and Jacob’s judgment.

Agent Bradford led Tash to the small grey room. Inside was not much more than a small bed and a dresser. Sandi sat on the bed, bent over, head in her hands. When Tash entered she looked up. Relief washed over her as she rushed forward, throwing herself into Tash’s arms. “Oh thank god you’re here. You have to help me!”

Tash did her best to stay composed with a moment so similar to her dreams. She led the frantic girl back to the bed and sat with her, still holding her. “Calm down, what’s wrong?”

Sandi calmed enough to get out, “I’ve got to get out of here. They’ll find me here. I got to get out of here.”

Tash wasn’t sure what she would have said because the door opened and Jacob and Sasha entered the room. She quickly stood to attention. Sasha looked to Tash confused, “What’s she doing here.”

“Calm down, I okayed it,” responded Jacob. “Thought she might be useful.”

“Fine, get them up to speed and loaded up. We need to get moving.” Sasha turned and left leaving Tash with her own look of confusion.

“What’s going on sir?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out. There’s been some heavy activity in Las Vegas and word is something major’s about to go down. We’re going personally to check it out. Since our mystery guest here was found in the area, we thought she should come along. Since you brought her in, I thought you should come too. You in?”

Tash stood a little straighter, “Of course sir.”

“Good. Get your shit together and meet in hanger 2 in 10 minutes.” Jacob leaned to peer at Sandi behind Tash, “We’re going on a little trip. Sasha thinks you know more than you’ve told us, and she’s rarely wrong. For your sake I hope she is.”

When Jacob left Tash turned to Sandi. Her raven haired vixen looked ashen. Tash moved so she was standing just in front of her. She wanted to reach out and touch that hair, but she held back. “Hey, it’s a start. At least you’re getting out of here.” Sandi just let out a small sob. Tash did reach out now, but only to lift her face so she could look in her eyes, “It’s going to be okay. I’ll protect you. I promise.”

Sandi smiled at that and stood, body pressed intimately close to Tash’s. “Okay,” she whispered, “I trust you.” She moved around Tash to head through the door, “My knight in shinning armor.”

End

Adept Tales 10 ~Blood and Agony~ "Into the Den"

2009-02-19T17:59:00.000-08:00

***Warning: The following depicts scenes that may be disturbing to some readers. Discretion is advised.***

The crowd jostled and flowed to the noise blaring from the stage at the Dead Zone. Agony thought for sure his ears must be bleeding. Whatever music it was, it was not his style. Still, he stayed. Slo had been able to gather some Intel and came up with a name: Tric. Word was he was peddling some new drug to the Norms in the area. Scarce word since most wouldn’t talk about it. A big bull’s-eye that had Vendot written all over it. Agony scanned the crowd looking for the dirty tweaker depicted in Slo’s file footage. According to his sources, this was where he hung out most nights, but then who didn’t? It seemed to Agony that all roads led back to the Dead Zone at one point or another.

He spotted Tric sitting with a group in the concession area, gaze glancing them briefly as he continued to the bar nonchalantly. Recon wasn’t really his thing, but looking natural and blending in was. An impressive task when you considered the size of the man, but he managed. He ordered a beer and took up a stool at the bar that, when turned, put Tric and his entourage directly between Agony and the stage. From this vantage point he could watch the group while seeming to be watching the show, though looking like he was enjoying it was a challenge.

Sitting with Tric were four other men. Directly to his left was what Agony could only describe as a reject from a bad mob movie. Not the old classics when the mob had style, but the more modern variety of grease ball. Next to him was a different kind of grease ball, one with actual grease. The small man looked like he’d just crawled from underneath a car and had the stains on his cover-all to prove it. His eyes twitched this way and that and Agony got the impression he was not happy to be at the table. His eyes seemed to be caught in a tug of war of looking at the two men on the other side of Tric and trying not to look at them. Agony could see why.

The two men on the right of Tric oozed pure menace. Not at anyone in particular, but more of a broad generalization of hate to most everyone around them. The smaller of the two looked fresh from a neo-Nazi rally whereas the other looked like he should be outside bench pressing pick-up trucks. It was rare that Agony came across guys bigger than him, but there he was, chair straining to hold him. Of all of them it was the skinhead that seemed to have more than two brain cells to rub together. His eyes pierced through the crowed with a deadly awareness. It was he that first noticed Agony at the bar. He could see him watching him from his peripherals and it was an effort not to break cover and meet that icy glare.

He nudged the mountain of muscle next to him, knocking him out of what appeared to be a sulking session, but the big guy only looked briefly, before shrugging and returning to his own thoughts. Not surprising to Agony it was the goodfella wanna-be who rose to the bait first. Agony couldn’t hear the conversation, but he could imagine how it was going: “He ain’t so big. I could take em.” “Yea sure you could.” “Watch, I’ll put that fucker on his ass.” Perfect, Agony thought. He downed his beer, set it on the bar and headed off toward the bathrooms. Sure enough, the goombah got up to follow.

As they reached the bathroom area, he tried to make his move, swinging to hit Agony in the back, but, of course, he was ready. With a quick motion he spun and trapped his arm, turning the man and twisting the arm back at a painful angle. Agony said nothing as he struggled, muffled cries of pain escaping his shocked expression. Instead he simply pushed the man toward the emergency exit, opened the door and pushed him out into the alley, closing him out in the cold all by himself.

With the determination of the best of bar room brawlers Agony made a bee-line for Tric’s table. Ignoring the other men he set his sights on the cold stare of the one he decided was the ring leader. Placing his large hands on the table he leaned in and he said with his own brand of menace, “You wanna try that shit yourself?”

The muscle-bound sulker stood to confront Agony, but a hand from the other stopped him in mid motion. With a sly smile that attempted to be harmless but failed he responded, “I’m afraid Greco’s a bit of a hot head. I do apologize. Let me buy you a beer to make up for it.” He signaled to the bar and nodded for Agony to sit. Feigning contemplation for a moment, Agony roughly pulled out an empty chair and sat. “I’m Rand,” he stated, then slapped the tweaker on his back, “this is Tric. And this is Broc.” The behemoth just growled at the mention of his name. “You’ll have to forgive him. He was bitch-slapped by a knight in shining armor earlier. It’s put him in a foul mood.” Agony was acutely aware that Rand had purposefully left the mechanic out of the introductions, and though he was curious he resisted inquiring about him.

Agony’s beer arrived and the two fell quickly into their performances. It would be hard to tell from an outside perspective who was playing who; Rand with his diatribe on the inferiority of Norms or Agony nodding and agreeing at the right moments. In the end it was Agony who got what he came for. After several more drinks and a disappearance from Tric and his un-named companion, Rand reached into his pocket and pulled out a small card. “Listen, we got get out of here, but if you’re looking for some side work, I may have an opportunity for you.” He slid the card to Agony despite the look of disgust on Broc’s face. “Be at this address tomorrow night and we’ll talk more.” Rand gestured to Broc and the two got up and left.

Once he was alone Agony looked at the card. On one side was an address as Rand promised, and on the other was two ‘V’s, one inverted over the other; the symbol of a Vendot initiate.

The address on the card was located somewhere in the middle of a warehouse complex just west of the Las Vegas Strip. As Agony got closer to his destination, he noticed the streets around him were strangely desolate. Even being at night, there should have been some signs of life, but it was like driving through a ghost town. When he made one of his final turns he was shocked to see a solitary police car blocking his path. The lights on the car came on as he approached and an officer stepped out. Agony slowed his truck to a stop just shy of the cop car and rolled down his window. The officer leaned in, flashlight shinning into Agony’s face, “Invitation?” He could tell that the officer was a Norm, but the blank stare he gave let Agony know that he wasn’t exactly acting on his own. He showed the be-spelled officer the card Rand had given him and was promptly waved through.

As he crossed the point where the cop car was parked a strange sensation went through him. The shadows increased and for a moment it was pitch black. When he emerged from the inky shroud, the world before him had gone to hell. The buildings surrounding him were much as they were on the other side, but the scene played out around them was not. Where before an empty street was was now alive with activity. Fires burned in trashcans or demolished cars, all surrounded by leather clad thugs and biker types; all laughing and drinking. Some fighting. Most of the throng were Adepts, but intermingled were a few Norms, though these appeared to be in some sort of servitude; dressed in rags, eyes downcast, jumping to commands.

The path in front of him was so blocked with debris and revelry that it would be impossible to drive through it, so he parked his truck and continued on foot. Agony could feel the eyes on him as he made his way to the address on the card, still a block or so away, but none tried to impede him. As he got deeper into the den, the horrors increased. He heard screams from darkened alleys and saw brutality played out on the Norm slaves in the hollowed out warehouses. Though it was hard to place, he often thought he saw demonic faces forming in the dark corners of the street, but only through his peripherals. If he tried to look directly, they disappeared.

When he finally reached the address, he found that it wasn’t a building, but an open lot. The area was covered in dead grass punctuated by more of the villains he’d encountered previously. Here and there were more burning trashcans, adding to the hellish motif. The crowd meandered around as if they were waiting for a concert or some other show to begin, and sure enough, on the far end of the lot was a dais. Agony would be hard-pressed to call it a stage. It was closer to a large alter; a raised platform with a stone slab acting as table of some sort in the middle. Torches flickered light across blood and darker fluids stained on the giant stone.

Rand’s voice caught his attention. “Agony,” he called as he made his way through the crowd smiling like a kid at Christmas. “You made it!” Rand clapped an arm on his shoulder, “And just in time.” He led him through the throng, up to the front of the dais. Rand left him there and ascended to the stage. As soon as he did the crowd quieted, attention turned to Rand. “Vendot, the shadows welcome you!” A dark cheer rose from the Adepts surrounding Agony. Rand raised his arms, quieting them once again. “We’ve gathered here tonight for a very special unveiling. Many of you here have heard of what we’ve come to see; the power of Stardust. And many of you were skeptical of that power.” Rand paced like a preacher addressing his flock, his power demanding attention and a small amount of worship. “Even as some of you have witnessed already the willingness to please of our subjects, some still doubt. I invite you now to step forward and doubt no more!” The crowd cheered again, though Agony thought most weren’t really sure why. It dawned on him then that most of the Adepts around him were of a low lineage, barely powerful enough to even count as Adepts. The cheering grew louder, drawing his attention back to the dais.

A middle-aged man was led out onto the stage. He looked normal enough and was in fact a Norm. He was wearing a standard issue white color uniform; a dark brown suit of the off the rack variety. The man was escorted to one side of the stone table, confusion and fear playing on his face. “This is Mr. Brennon,” Rand explained. “Mr. Brennon here has been using Stardust for, how long now?”

“2 days,” he responded weakly.

“2 days!” exclaimed Rand. “And how long since your last fix?”

“3 hours.”

“3 hours,” Rand repeated again. “Would you like more Mr. Brennon?”

The man’s expression changed, joy taking over, “Yes, yes please!”

“And what would you be willing to do for that fix Mr. Brennon?”

The man hesitated for only a moment, biting his lower lip in thought, “Anything, anything you want.”

“Anything?” Rand asked in a dark whisper that still managed to carry, sending a shiver down Agony’s spine.

“Yes sir, anything.”

Rand smiled that devious smile, “Let’s test that, shall we.” As if on command, Broc appeared on the other side of the dais. In front of him he led a small girl, no older than 12 or 13. Her hands were tied behind her and there was a blindfold over her eyes. “Mr. Brennon,” Rand continued, “who is this girl?”

Mr. Brennon froze, eye’s wide. “My…my daughter,” he finally managed to get out.

Rand moved behind the man so he was speaking into his ear, softly, intimately, “And what is your daughter’s name?”

“Cecilia, her name is Cecilia.”

“And is she precious to you?”

“Yes, of course. She’s my angel.” A sarcastic ‘awe’ went through the crowd followed by the cackle of evil.

From behind Mr. Brennon Rand raised one hand to silence the group again, “And what would you allow Broc here to do to your daughter for another hit of Stardust Mr. Brennon?”

Mr. Brennon’s eyes went wide again, dark thoughts streaming through his mind. Agony could see the struggle, but in the end, the man lost. “Anything,” the man whispered.

Rand smiled widely. “Anything!” he exclaimed followed by renewed cheers from his congregation. The chill down Agony’s spine turned to ice. He had an idea of what was coming. He tried to swallow his fear and despair. He couldn’t stop it. There were too many of them. He could only watch.

As if he’d read Agony’s mind, Rand whispered to Mr. Brennon, this time so softly only those in the very front could hear, “I want you to watch Mr. Brennon. I want you to stand and watch and make no move from this spot. Understood?” The man just nodded. Rand signaled to Broc, and the real show began.

Broc gave his own smile, though not sly at all. It was pure venom. He removed the blindfold, bent low and whispered something into her ear. Whatever it was, the girl’s eyes went wide, her face paling. She screamed and called for her daddy, but Mr. Brennon didn’t move, didn’t say ‘everything will be alright.’ He just stood and watched like he was told. Broc lifted the girl and set her down hard on her back atop the stone alter. Agony took a half step forward despite himself. He fought down the urge to rush the stage, to do something. But he knew that would only get him killed, and the girl would be no better off. All he could do was hope no one had noticed his slip.

When he looked back to the alter he saw Broc bent over the girl, again whispering something into her ear as she cried, but his eyes were watching Agony. He’s noticed, shit. As their eyes locked Agony cursed himself, knowing now that whatever happened would probably be worse because of him. Agony felt his entire being ice over. The look he gave Broc would have given the grim reaper pause, but Broc just laughed and licked the girl’s face. He was too stupid to understand. Too stupid to know that whatever happened next, he was dead. Agony would see to it. That realization allowed him to stand steady. Agony knew he couldn’t save her, but he’d repay Broc in kind. Assuming of course he made it through the night alive. If Broc told Rand what he saw he might not, but Agony was pretty sure he was too stupid for that too.

Broc made and abrupt movement, standing straight. Agony heard more than saw the girl’s jeans and underwear being ripped away. She screamed again and again, calling for her father to save her, but still he just stood there, the need for the drug overpowering the need to protect his child. Another tear and the girl’s shirt was gone. Agony wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. Not out of any kind of sick fascination, but simply because if she had to endure it the least he could do was not turn away. Not run from the horror he couldn’t save her from. Not try to spare him the scar. No, he had to watch. Had to let the images burn him so deep that his fury would be a thing of mass; palpable, living. A thing the Vendot would regret letting loose.

Realizing her father couldn’t or wouldn’t help her, the girl tried to fight back, but with her hands still tied she couldn’t accomplish much. She kicked and writhed trying to delay the inevitable. Broc just laughed. He wrapped his large hands around her neck and began choking her and soon all her fighting transferred from not being raped to being able to breathe. When her legs stopped kicking, he released her neck. The girl gasped for breath and he entered her. The scream she would have given was stolen by her still gasping. All she could do was cry silently as Broc’s girth tore in and out of her. When she could breathe again, if only partly through the pain of the penetration, she tried to fight again, but this time Broc just hit her; a backhand across the face that came away with blood and teeth. Then she gave up. Cecilia ceased to be a person in that moment. Agony could see it in her eyes. See the light of hope leave as she resigned herself to the torture. She stopped crying, stopped struggling. Then she just stopped. He must have ripped something vital because blood flowed freely where Broc had violated her. In mere moments, she was gone.

Agony felt sorrow like a wave crash into him but the crowd roared with excitement, surging forward, pressing bodies together. Agony went limp, using the crowd to keep from falling. When he looked over at Mr. Brennon, he was standing expressionless. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t even shed a tear. Hadn’t done anything at all until Rand handed the small packet of Stardust to him. Then he brightened and thanked Rand for his generosity.

End

What Now?

2009-02-02T13:20:00.000-08:00

~~Okay, so this isn't an Adept Tale or other story, but it's been on my mind. Enjoy.~~

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about the state of the world; where we are, where we’re heading. It’s no secret to those that know me that I’ve felt for a long time that we are living in the “end times” or rather a period of renewal and change. Despite my feelings of the future, I haven’t spent much time considering what it is that needs to be done to get though it…until now. So what follows is my offering of advise, and like all advise, is simply my opinion and should be accepted or discounted as you see fit.

In the end, I’ve realized it all starts with you. Or rather the individual. We cannot move forward until we’re willing to shed off our old outdated ideals that continue to drag us down. How the revolution happens, I don’t know, but I have some ideas on how we can prepare ourselves for the shift.

Eliminate your fear. Sounds hokey in a Jedi Knight kind of way, but fear is how they control you, or better yet how you cripple yourself. And I’m not talking about your fear of spiders or heights, but those everyday fears that guide us almost unknowingly. Fear of being accepted, fear that the bills will be late, that your car will be stolen, your house robbed, fear of being laid off, fear that you aren’t good enough. Fears constantly being lobbed at us through the media and the government. Fear to keep you docile; scared curled up on your couch praying for someone else to save you, someone else to protect you. I’m going to let you in on a little secret, and I’m sorry if no one’s told you this before, but chances are bad things will happen to you in your life time. Fear of those things won’t stop them. Fear will not help you cope with them. Only by eliminating our fear can we face the challenges in our life head on. Only by eliminating our fear can we truly enjoy the pleasures in our life. Eliminate your fear and live in love.

Reject Leadership. In the end it all comes down to you. How you perceive events. What you determine to be the truth. No individual or group could ever know what it’s like to be you and therefore can never tell you how you should live your life. There is no absolute truth, only opinion and perception all based on speculation. It’s up to you to figure it out for yourself. Not to say that you should reject help. One of our most redeeming qualities is our ability to work together. If you need help, ask. If others need help, do your best to oblige, but never give up your own right to decide for yourself. The moment you hand over your free will to a “leader” you’ve handed them the keys to your soul. Reject leadership. Figure it out for yourself.

Question Everything. There is no absolute truth, only opinion and perception. Don’t accept anything at face value. This is especially true with the media and government. Most of what they tell you is bullshit. Fragments of information meant to scare you or cull you to their way of thinking. Don’t buy into it. Question everything. And not just from them, but from everyone. We are a nation of repeaters, spouting what one person told us that they heard from a friend who has a cousin who was there, but as every child learns in kindergarten playing Telephone, a message passed from one person to the next changes in the telling. It’s up to you to decide what information makes sense, what fits into the pattern of your recognition. The other side of question everything is the willingness to hear all sides, weigh all possibilities. Our minds are constantly learning and to reject new ideas out of hat is to cripple what is natural to us; to grow and to learn. Our lives are not static. They are dynamic; constantly changing and we must be willing to change with it. We must be willing to question what we are told so we can evaluate without fear if they are valid. Question everything and never stop learning. There is no truth, only how you perceive events.

Maybe, just maybe if we can accomplish these things we can move ourselves into a new era of understanding and co-operation; because only through understanding and co-operation can we survive. Because if not we will continue to be scared sheep led into oblivion on the heels of what they tell you to think. Eliminate your fear, reject leadership, question everything.

Minor Delay

2009-01-23T14:05:00.000-08:00

I'm in the process of moving back to Vegas, so there might not be an update this week. It's still a possibility, but I doubt it. Have no fear though, there will be one next week.

Adept Tales 09 "Marie"

2009-01-13T19:46:00.001-08:00

The hooves of Fane’s stallion fell silently on the rooftops of the abandoned buildings surrounding the Dead Zone. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the girl, sitting surrounded by the strange vagrants, eyes distant, clutching a blue doll; featureless except for its button eyes and yarn mouth. The meandering masses seemed to draw warmth from her presence despite the fact that she didn’t acknowledge them, or anything as far as Fane could tell from their brief encounter; her only communication a small silver bracelet with the name ‘Marie’ engraved on it. Now he searched her out again at the behest of Joshua, but so far he’d had no luck.

He’d searched the area where he first saw her, but to no avail. He felt she was close though, as if he could feel her calling to him from the dark. A ridiculous notion, he thought. Why would she call to him? Had she even noticed him there before? He judged her to be no older than maybe 15, but the look in her eyes held something older. Something forged by suffering. How quick such things could age us.

So now he broadened his search, galloping from the rooftops in hopes of spying her wondering down one of the lonely alleys, perhaps searching for him as he did her. “Get a grip, Fane,” he scolded himself to the open air. He stopped briefly, straining to hear signs of life from the empty buildings below. Somewhere in the distance he heard glass shatter and a wave of urgency and need nearly knocked him from his horse. Directing his mount he leapt from the roof to the alley below and sped toward the sound, but as he approached where he thought it originated, the feeling subsided. “Nerves, must be nerves.”

He continued on the ground, slowly, searching for the source of the noise. Nerves or no nerves it was the first clue he’d been given and it was better than nothing. He moved along remnants of businesses long dead; there shells corroding, glass windows caked with dust where they weren’t already cracked or vacant. As he rounded a corner he thought he caught movement through one of the plate glass memorials. As he approached he heard a deep and threatening voice boom from inside, “So you’re the little bitch that’s been setting them free.” Fane strained to see through the murky glass. There she was inside a cavernous abandoned waste being backed into a corner by large mass of muscle and menace, “Guess we’ll have to do something about that.” Fane only saw the hulk start to grab the girl before he was crashing through the window, galloping hard to save her.

As the shards cleared from his vision he saw the surprised and angry look on the man’s face, piercing with eye’s of pure black. He had the girl by the neck in one giant hand as she grasped at his arm trying to stop him. Fane saw part of her shirt ripped and fury overtook him. He charged at the figure making him drop the girl to dive out of the way. Before he could recover, Fane turned, unsheathed his sword and planted it into his chest, pinning him to the ground. Darkness like blood flowed from his chest, eyes and mouth as he let out a scream sending waves of terror and despair into the hollow shell of the room. Before the feeling could overtake them the sword grew bright, light like the sun beating back the darkness. The brute screamed again, but this time in his own terror. Not waiting to see if he’d recover, Fane quickly swept up the girl and fled.

He rode to outrun the devil with the girl clutching him with one arm and the strange doll with the other. When it seemed he’d gone far enough he stopped and eased himself and the girl to the ground. He held her as she shivered; eyes more distant now then they had been before. “Are you alright?” he asked, though he didn’t expect an answer. “It’s okay. Everything’s alright now. We’ll take care of you.” He smoothed back her hair and looked into her broken eyes, “I’ll take care of you.”

End

Adept Tales 08 "And then there was a Rose..."

2009-01-11T20:08:00.000-08:00

The view outside his window hadn’t changed but the apprehension inside him continued to grow. It seemed to Joshua that all he’d done recently was wait. Wait for the right moment, the right vision, the right path. Now he was waiting again. This time for a meeting he wasn’t sure he wanted to have, a feeling that was becoming all too familiar.

The call from Slo so soon was unexpected, but what he said was even more so, “He wants to meet you.”

“But I thought Agony didn’t like authority,” he replied hopefully.

“He says he’ll make an exception this time. Seems like maybe he’s heard of you.”

So he waited. Waited to see what Agony had heard. Waited to see why he was so interested in meeting Joshua. He figured it couldn’t be good, but he was confident he’d read the patterns right. Agony was the right guy. He needed him. So he waited.

The report from Fane had done little to distract his thoughts, but the girl did interest him. Something about her seemed to fit into the pattern too, but how, he wasn’t sure yet. He supposed again he’d just have to wait for Fane to bring her. He let out a heavy sigh and returned to his desk. Perhaps work could keep his nerves at bay.

The buzz of the intercom nearly knocked him out of his chair. He realized he’d been straining, waiting to hear the indication that they were here, so when it finally struck, it hit him like electricity. Renee ushered the men in with a look of concern at the intimidating Agony. A nod from Joshua as he rose from his desk seemed to put her at ease as she retreated, closing the door behind her.

He approached Slo, shaking his hand, but Agony didn’t even acknowledge him, instead taking in the office décor. “Nice digs,” he said, more to the air then to Joshua.

“Thanks. Please, have a seat.” Joshua returned to his desk as Slo sat. Agony continued his casual investigation a few more moments before seeming to decide he was satisfied, taking the seat next to Slo.

“So you’re the famous Joshua Williams.” Not a question, but a statement, his attention and scrutiny finally falling on Joshua.

Joshua fought the urge to squirm under his gaze, “That’s interesting coming from you. I wasn’t aware I was famous.”

“In certain circles. You’d be amazed how far word can travel.”

“And what word is that?” Joshua leaned back; fingers arched together much like Slo had done upon their first meeting.

Agony shrugged, his demeanor beginning to shift into a friendlier persona, “Depends who you talk to.”

“Rumors and speculation travel far too I suppose.”

“Exactly. So I figured better to go to the source.” Agony’s eyes focused intently letting Joshua know that despite the bravado he was expecting answers and if he didn’t like the ones he got, there could be trouble.

“Fair enough. So why don’t you tell me what you’ve heard and we can set the record straight.”

“Well let’s see. The most common one is that you’re raising an army of some sort. To what end depends who’s saying it. Some say to battle the Vendot. Others say it’s to take over Sage or maybe start a competitor.” Agony leaned forward, forearms resting on his legs, hands grasped together.

Instinctively Joshua followed suit, using his desk instead for support. “Interesting. What do you think?”

“I think you certainly have the resources.” He shrugged again, “Of all, those are the least crazy.”

“It gets better?”

Agony chuckled, “A bit. Some say you’re some kind of messiah here to usher in a new age or possibly a demon bent on destroying it. Or that you’re thousands of years old and have some hidden knowledge or power beyond the rest of us. Other variations weave in and out, but that’s the gist.” With that he leaned back, crossed his arms and waited, watching Joshua.

Joshua sighed, stood and walked back to the window behind him, “The view hasn’t changed…” he mumbled, wondering to himself how much he could tell Agony. He turned his head and really looked at Agony for the first time. He was large, intimidating, not the kind of guy you’d want to meet in an alley. But under it was shrewdness rarely seen. Intelligence burned behind his eyes, melting away Joshua’s doubt. Everything, he had to tell him everything.

He turned and leaned against the glass, hands clasped behind him, “How much do you know about where we come from? Why we can do the things we do?”

“Just the pre-recorded Sage spiel; some mystical energy they call the Shine lets us see the Spirit Web which allows us to manifest reality, yada, yada, blah.”

“Right, but what you don’t know is where the Shine comes from. Our world, our reality, is actually part of a binary dimension; two worlds intertwined, destinies interlocked. In our sister reality the Shine is as abundant as oxygen, and like oxygen in our world, just as necessary. Through a gateway between the worlds, the Shine once flowed freely into ours.”

“Another world, huh? I’ve been to just about every corner of this planet and I’ve never seen any other world.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to have, but we’re getting to that.” Joshua pushed away from the glass, returning to his chair, “Legend has it that when both worlds were created, the other dimension, called Jar-Din, was a land of chaos. Unlike our world, Jar-Din wasn’t supported by a Spirit Web. The Shine was all, and the only stabilizing factor was the whim of those who inhabited it, but as most primitive creatures do, they fought and battled, all trying to be the dominant force. Things continued this way for countless eons, until the rise of man.

“When the first cavemen peaked out of their caves to marvel at the sun, so did our ancestors rise out of the Shine. Man, as well as these early Adepts, evolved in thought and socialization, but continued to war and vie for power. Then around 12 or 15 thousand years ago, around the dawn of human civilization, one Adept was born unlike the rest. His power was greater than any before him. Not so much that he could dominate all, but enough that the others heeded his words. He saw that the chaos in their world was tearing it apart, and while he watched it sink into the abyss, this world was thriving.”

Agony rolled his eyes, boredom playing plainly on his face, “This is all fascinating, but could we get to the point?”

Joshua straightened, demeanor turning stern as his presence filled the room. Slo, who to this point had been almost invisible, stirred slightly, unable to fully resist. “You came here for answers, and I’m giving them to you. If I’m boring you, perhaps we should call it a night.”

Agony raised his hands in front of him as if to show he was unarmed and harmless, “Sorry, sorry. Please, continue.”

Joshua settled back, lowering the tension in the room but still dominating its environment, “As I was saying, this Adept saw our world thrive and also saw why; the Spirit Web. It bound our reality together, gave us purpose and direction; a framework to build upon. Jar-Din was not so lucky. Its structure and environment was constantly changing; shifting sometimes moment by moment. Drawing together his closest allies, he devised a way to give his people a stable foundation. Together they created a kind of government called the Garden of the Rose, with him as the sovereign Rose and his allies the Body of Thorns. For two thousand years they successfully maintained a base reality, and peace and prosperity flourished.

“But all things have their opposite, the Shine being no different. Hidden away in the dark was the Shade; a force of destruction and evil. A young Adept named Vorlok became obsessed with the Shade. Its power and influence corrupted him and led him into a campaign against the Rose and his Thorns. He named himself the Black Winged Rose, and gathered his own followers, calling them the Vendot.”

Agony straightened, interest now taking over, “The Vendot? As in the Vendot?”

“Not exactly, but yes.” Joshua continued, “Chaos engulfed Jar-Din once again. War spanning thousands of years broke out. In the end, the Rose knew he would lose. Vorlok was too powerful. So he and his Thorns devised the only plan they had left; they’d run. Flee to our realm and slam the gateway closed behind them.”

“Turn tail and run. Always a good plan,” Agony’s sarcasm was not lost on anyone.

“You might not think that way if you ever came face to face with the full power of the Shade. It’s not that it’s more powerful than the Shine, per say, but its power is rooted in destruction and death. The Shine, as a rule, is not. They were simply unprepared for what was unleashed.”

“Right, whatever you say. So they ran and I’m guessing joined their inept cousins here?”

“Yes. Or as many as survived. Unfortunately, the Rose and many of the Thorns didn’t make it, dying defending their people as they fled. Leadership fell to a Thorn named Saige.”

“Saige? Like ‘Sage’ Saige?”

“He was the inspiration for our friendly neighborhood Adept Police, but no. The Sage of today has little in common with Saige the man, but then again, they have different challenges. Saige’s priority was to integrate his people into our world. With the gateway between the worlds closed, he knew eventually the Shine in our world would dissipate, leaving them nearly as inept, as you put it, as the rest of mankind.”

Slo broke his silence, “But the Shine’s all over, right? So that means the gateway’s open?” Joshua and Agony both looked at Slo as if he'd sprouted a second head. “What? I’m sorry, didn’t realize this was a private conversation.”

Joshua recovered, nodding, “Yes, or more likely the doorway is cracked. If it was all the way open Vorlok would make his presence known.

Agony turned back to Joshua, “You mean he’s still alive? Even after all this time?”

“Sure, why not? You should know from experience actually killing an Adept is a difficult task. How do you kill something that can be anything? Someone who can bend and change their reality? The only real way to end an Adept is to remove him from reality. Or deprive him of the Shine. No, it’s more likely Vorlok is alive and well, and more powerful than ever before.”

“Enter the Vendot,” Slo said in a half snicker.

Joshua nodded, “That’s what I think. I’m not sure how exactly, but I think Vorlok has found a way to spread his influence into our world. In theory he can’t escape until the gateway’s fully opened, but a crack…maybe he found a way to get something through. Honestly I don’t know, but the Vendot are out in force and the gateway is opening, proof by the presence of the Shine.”

Agony considered the information, “Okay, so that brings us up to date, but you still didn’t answer any of my questions.”

Joshua smiled, “True I haven’t. But we’re not quite up to date yet. Before they started their mass migration, the Rose and his Thorns knew there was a chance some of them wouldn’t make it, so they devised a way to pass the power of the Rose down through the generations. One Thorn was charged with protecting the line, keeping its existence secret from all others, watching and waiting for the Shine to return and the Rose to be reborn.” Joshua could see the thought form on Agony’s face, “No, I’m not the Thorn, and I’m not the Rose either. So that answers two of your questions.”

“That it does. But then who? Or better yet, how do you know all this if it was supposed to be a secret?”

“The answer to both of those questions is the same: my father. He was the one sent to watch over the line of the Rose and he’s the one who told me what I’ve told you.”

“But if he was here how did he survive without the Shine?”

“It’s not unheard of, though rare. The Shine never fully disappeared. There were places where the last remnants pooled. We would recognize them today as places of spiritual significance or mysterious origin. Stonehenge, the Pyramids, and others; some well known, others not.”

“Okay, say I buy it, if your pops knows where the Rose is, what’s the problem?”

“That is the problem,” Joshua leaned back, eyes going out of focus as he accessed painful memories long buried, “He died. A long time ago.” A shiver went through him as he pushed the pain back into the abyss of the past. “He taught me what he could, but never revealed the location of the Rose. So to answer another of your questions, I am raising an army. Kind of anyway. We search for the Rose and any evidence of our forgotten past. We try to uphold the ways of the Rose and his Thorns, striving towards cooperation and prosperity to all. I admit I’m a poor substitute, my knowledge being limited, but we have to start somewhere. In the end I believe the Rose is our only chance in stopping Vorlok and restoring us to our true birthright.”

“Fair enough. But now the million dollar question: why do you need me?”

This was the real question. The one Joshua dreaded answering the most. It was something he’d never told anyone, because if the wrong people found out, everything could be lost. He hesitated involuntarily, willing himself to pull the words out. He thought for a moment perhaps this too was part of his father’s design; preventing him from giving away too much.

“My father left a kind of coded message behind. A puzzle that once solved will reveal the location of the Rose. The next clue is the Vendot; or rather something they’re up to. I need you because no one on my team could even get close to them. I need someone who can, someone like you.”

Agony thought for a moment then abruptly slapped his hands down on the arms of his chair, stood and said, “Well alright.” With that he turned and headed for the door.

Joshua called after him, “You’ll help us then?”

Agony stopped just before the exit and said, again more to the air then to Joshua, in a tone filled with its own pain, “I don’t know that I believe in any great and powerful Rose who can save us. But I believe in the evil of Vendot. And you’re wrong; I have seen the power of the Shade face to face.” With that he was gone, leaving Joshua with a mixed feeling of getting what he wanted but not sure the price of pain in Agony’s voice was really worth it.

End

Update on Updates

2009-01-11T14:42:00.000-08:00

So, my pseudo-new years resolution is to post at least one Adept Tale a week. My personal deadline is Sunday at midnight of each week. Today's story is done and will be posted later tonight, so so far so good!

Enjoy!

"FLI and the Illusion Generator" Part iii

2009-01-04T19:41:00.000-08:00

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Feels like it's been a million years in the making, but here it finally is. I'm still not sure I'm totally happy with it, but honestly I was tired of thinking about it. I'm ready to move on to the next chapter. Hopefully in the future updates will be more frequent, but I make no promises.

Enjoy!

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iii

For a moment there was nothing but white. Agony stood lost in a void of light. Then Slo appeared before him. Without taking his eyes off Agony he said into the void, “Wiz, load the street.” The world began to shift around Agony. The distance between him and Slo stretched as a street appeared between them. On either side of the street buildings and cars manifested. Within seconds he was standing on one end of what appeared to be a regular city street with Slo on the other end.

He judged the distances to be about 100 yards give or take. Behind Slo was a building signifying the end of the fight zone. A quick glance behind showed the same behind him. Agony was struck by the reality of it. Just as G-Wiz had said, the setting seemed real. Except of course that the street was isolated with no roads crossing it. To the sides through the buildings he could see a large brick wall; another boundary he supposed. From across the distance he could see a sly smile play on Slo’s face as he slowly backed up and disappeared into the building behind him.

He felt the shot cutting through the air seconds before he heard the crack of the rifle. Agony quickly sidestepped and dove behind a nearby car. Another shot screamed through the windshield and out through a side window, shattering both. He cautioned a glance in the direction he thought the shot had come from; there, in the 3rd floor window of a building just down and to his left, a pale figure silhouetted the frame. It resembled Slo, but Agony knew it wasn’t him exactly. In their world location and physical presence could be fuzzy sometimes.

Cautiously Agony moved along the right side of the car, making his way to the shattered side window. Another shot rang out, but it hit somewhere nearer to where he was. Good, he didn’t see me move. Reaching through the bullet opened window, Agony tore a piece of upholstery from the car’s front seat. Sitting now against the car in what he figured for the moment was a safe spot, he tore the cloth into one long strip. He moved back toward the gas cap, removed it and started feeding his makeshift fuse into the tank. He lit the other end with his Zippo and moved back to the open window. With a hope and a prayer he quickly reached into the car, shifted it to neutral and began pushing it toward the building. Shots rained down on the car as it moved, but Agony’s position was covered. He knew in reality what he was doing was probably impossible, but that’s what he loved most about being an Adept. It didn’t matter so much what was real, only what you wanted to be real.

With one final shove he sent the car careening on its own momentum toward the building. Agony rolled to his right as flame struck gasoline sending a spectacular explosion of smoke and fire into the Slo-shadow-sniper’s hideout. He wasn’t so sure the impromptu bomb would actually take out the sniper, but that wasn’t really the point. Now hidden in the cover a smoke Agony sped across the street, through an alley to the back of the side buildings.

The back alley was fairly typical of what he expected to see, except for the towering brick wall to his right, but along the buildings were an array of fire escapes, cardboard boxes and dumpsters. Great place for an ambush, Agony thought, and almost as if he manifested it himself, his thought came true. From behind a nearby dumpster another shadow version of Slo rolled out with an M-16 trained on Agony’s position. As the muzzle flash burst a hail of bullets, Agony stepped left, using a fire escape as shoddy cover. Next to him on the wall he saw a ‘No Parking’ sign; Perfect. With one fluid motion he ripped the sign off the wall and sent it sailing through the air at his pseudo-opponent. The spray of blood and the humorous way the head flew into the air was probably a bit much, but he enjoyed the theatrics of it. He didn’t have much time to enjoy the scene before a door that hadn’t been there a second ago opened next to him.

The first thing he saw was the knife, but hand-to-hand was more his specialty. He locked the arm attached to the blade and swung yet another Slo Soldier out into the alley, slamming him hard against the towering brick wall. The knife went flying as Agony brought up his knee, driving the figure’s midsection into the wall yet again. As he doubled over from the strike, Agony, still holding the arm, twisted him down and around so he was kneeling with Agony behind him. A quick twist of the neck and the figure went still.

As fun as this all was, Agony could tell neither man was gaining ground. Slo could sit in that building at the end of the street all day, sending wave after wave of hit men and nothing would be accomplished. He had to get to that building; he had to get to the real Slo. Slo must have noticed too, because as Agony continued down the side alley, no more shadow-puppets attacked.

Still on alert Agony peered around the corner of the last building. He could see that the wall continued, forming a rectangle of brick around their playground. The building Slo had entered was only one story, so the threat of another sniper was small, but there didn’t appear to be a side entrance. The only way in was the double glass doors at the front. Not the easiest thing to sneak through, but then Agony wasn’t much for stealth in general.

He moved along the front of Slo’s stronghold and inched his way to the doors. Trying to stay as covered as possible, Agony looked through into the building. Through the glass doors was what appeared to be a reception area. The lights were off, but he didn’t sense any movement directly on the other side. He figured the door would be locked, but to his amazement it wasn’t, as he opened the doors and went in.

The room was typical of many office front desks; a large desk along the opposite wall, chairs and small tables aligned along the other walls and throughout the open floor. To the right of the desk was a door, the only one he could see. As he approached the door he saw a small device bridging the gap between door and doorframe. A bomb? Really? Agony sighed to himself and inspected the devise. All and all it was a pretty impressive set up, but he still made short work defusing it. He appreciated its presence though, as it meant there wasn’t likely to be anyone too close on the other side. Of course not knowing what was on the other side still made going through risky, but what choice did he have?

He cracked the door enough to peer through. Laid out beyond the door was a maze of cubicles. Great, a call center. He pushed through and rolled to the nearest partition. A barrage of pistol fire bit into the door swinging automatically closed behind him. He hadn’t actually seen Slo, but he knew it was him this time. Agony could tell by the repetitive blasts that Slo was using two handguns, firing them alternately like they do in the movies. He stayed low and moved along the cubicle walls trying to find a path to the back of the room where the shots were coming from.

As he came to an open cubicle he heard something clang onto the desk and fall to the floor: a grenade. Quickly and almost without thought, Agony grabbed a paper clip, bent it out straight and inserted it in like a pin. Again he was struck by the lunacy of the act, but still it proved successful. He slipped the now diffused grenade into his pocket and tried to keep moving, but Slo was doing a good job of keeping him pinned down. When a bullet grazed his arm, Agony decided he’d had enough.

In one fluid motion he stood, grabbed a nearby monitor and lobbed in the direction of the gun fire. He saw Slo duck the flying screen as he began making his way over and through the cubical maze. As he moved, Agony continued with a barrage of office equipment, throwing anything that wasn’t bolted down; chairs, keyboards, monitors, a stress ball. Anything and everything to keep Slo from getting any more shots off.

As he got closer to his goal, he couldn’t help but notice the stoic calm that Slo possessed. Even as he ducked and dodged the onslaught, his expression never changed. He gave no hint of frustration or concern. He simply avoided the projectiles, moving in an attempt to regain the high ground. Even as Agony made his final leap, tackling Slo to the ground, his face never betrayed him.

Everything seemed to change in an instant. What was before almost a friendly exchange turned into an all out brawl. The two crashed into each other with force enough to shatter the windows around them. Each landed devastating blows to the other as their dance continued across the floor. Agony was pouring everything he had into the fight and still Slo matched him, still eerily calm as if this were just another day at the beach. But he could feel him weakening; feel his resolve start to slip. He just hoped it was enough.

He left nothing behind now, trying to capitalize on his opening, funneling all his focus into subduing the other man. But his rally didn’t last. It wasn’t so much that Slo rebounded as he began to lose his own resolve. He felt Slo’s will crash into him repeatedly, parallel to the blows he produced, and felt himself slip. Felt Slo gain the advantage. Felt it all begin to slip away.

For a moment there was nothing but white. Agony stood lost in a void of light. Then Slo appeared before him, panting and out of steam. He stood, hands on his knees trying to relearn how to breathe. Agony was on the ground, leaning against a cubicle partition, but he couldn’t remember how he got there. Slo’s head slowly rose as the men’s eyes met. Agony could almost feel Slo’s apprehension, but his face still seemed at home. With a burst of energy the forces of nature charged at each other again. What was left didn’t even have windows to shatter.

As the two titans continued, all semblance of G-Wiz’s reality began to melt away; reduced to rubble and ash. Agony was beyond exhaustion, operating off pure nerve. He couldn’t imagine Slo had much left either, but still they fought. When the piercing sound cut through his mind he thought it was over for sure this time. He was almost relived as he clutched at his ears, trying to keep his brain from leaking out. He saw Slo too now on his knees in much the same manner. He only had a second to wonder what was happening before it all disappeared.

When his vision finally cleared he was kneeling in the wrestling ring across from Slo. G-Wiz was franticly clicking away at his ringside console, an expression of pure terror plainly playing across his face. Slo stirred and tried to speak, but his voice didn’t seem to be working at that moment. Agony could relate. He was pretty sure he couldn’t scream even if he was stabbed with a hot poker. Slo managed to clear his throat enough to get out in a rasp, “Wiz…what happened?”

The kid looked up from his console with an expression of pure shock as if the dead had just spoken, but the shock quickly faded under waves of relief. “Holy shit, I thought I lost you.”

Slo tried to regain composure as he used the ring’s ropes to help him to his feet. “What happened,” he repeated.

“You guys crashed the system.”

“What?” Slo nearly collapsed again with surprise, “How the hell did we do that?”

Mimicking Slo’s ascent, Agony pulled himself to his own feet, “See, I told you there was no way to predict everything.”

G-Wiz gave Agony a quizzical glance, “Well, yea, I guess. I just never imagined that happening.”

“Never imagined what happening?” Slo asked.

“A tie.”

Slo and Agony turned to each other, both now with shocked expressions, the first indication Agony had seen that Slo could be shocked. Agony watched as Slo’s eyes became bright and shiny and he could imagine his looked much the same. G-Wiz could do nothing but stare, mouth hung open, as both men burst into laughter.

End

"FLI and the Illusion Generator" Part ii

2008-10-19T22:40:00.000-07:00

Even on a Saturday afternoon the Dead Zone was alive with activity, though it was of a different sort. As the three moved toward the arena entrance they had to weave in and out of tables now occupying half the concert floor. The stage was empty but music still pumped through the speakers, driven by the old style jukebox in the corner. The crowd, as it often was, was a blend of Adepts and Norms, and nearly all of their eyes followed the trio on their march, as if they could feel the implied tension. Slo and Agony ignored the stares, focused on their goal, but G-Wiz nodded and waved at people he knew. He felt a bit like a celebrity the way they watched them.

They crossed through the arena doors unabated. As G-Wiz closed them behind him he could hear the noise of conversation rise beyond the heavy frame. “So much for being subtle.”

“I didn’t know we were trying to be,” Agony said, not focused on G-Wiz, but instead studying what appeared to be nothing more then a normal wrestling ring. His attention lifted and settled on the strange projector like device nestled nearly hidden in the rafters above the ring. He nodded, indicating the units nesting place, “What’s that?”

Slo stepped forward, glancing at the centerpiece to G-Wiz’s Illusion Generator. “Why couldn’t it just be lighting equipment?” Slo’s words were more a test then a question. Agony turned his head and just looked at him. Slo couldn’t help but smile slightly. The look said he would have to be crazy to think Agony would buy that. He turned to G-Wiz, still by the door no doubt trying not to get caught in the crossfire, “Show him.”

Despite himself, G-Wiz was giddy at the words. He found immense pleasure in showing off his creations, and when dealing with them he felt more confident, strong. He pushed away from his diminished stance and strode to the edge of the ring. He remained gravely aware of Agony’s intense scrutiny as he activated a hidden console and began loading the OS for his Illusion Generator.

Agony stepped forward, looking inquisitively over G-Wiz’s shoulder as unfamiliar lines of code blurred across the small screen. “What’s that?”

G-Wiz hesitated for a second, casting a questioning glance to Slo. Slo gave a brief nod, sending renewed waves of elation through him. “This is my FLI OS. It runs the Illusion Generator.”

“Fly?”

“No, FLI. F-L-I. Fabricated Life-like Intelligence.”

“Oh, like AI?”

G-Wiz shook his head, a disappointed sigh escaping his lips, “No, no. Not at all. AI is…well you’ve seen the movies. Man gives computer a brain. Computer becomes self-aware. Computer kills everyone. This isn’t like that. FLI has no real cognizance ability. Instead it’s programmed with pre-designed responses to nearly every possible situation.”

Agony took a step back far enough for G-Wiz to see his quizzical expression, “What? That’s crazy. How could you possibly be able to predict every possible situation?”

G-Wiz just smiled, “If I told you that everyone would have one.”

Agony looked to Slo. He spread his hands deflecting the insinuation, “Don’t look at me. He won’t tell me either.”

Agony seemed to accept the answer and turned back to the kid. “Okay, so then what’s the Illusion Generator? I mean I can guess part of it. It projects images into the ring right?”

“Um, yes and no. It creates a duel environment, so completely realistic you won’t be able to tell the difference.” The scrolling code stopped, the system beeping to let G-Wiz know it was fully booted and ready to go. He tapped a few keys and the screen changed. He scooted over a bit and motioned for Agony to come closer as he explained; “On the inside of the ring we project one of nearly 1000 environments.” The screen flashed a slide show with varying vistas. “Each one perfectly real, functioning and reacting just like the real world. It even feels real.” He clicked another key and two figures appeared on the screen. They immediately engaged and began filling the view with an epic battle much like the one Agony had watched the kid perform at the Rooms.

Agony straightened and regarded the kid with a look of wonderment, “Impressive.”

G-Wiz tapped another key and the screen changed again. The figures were still present, but now they were in just the ring. And instead of the large-scale onslaught they were just wrestling. Excitedly and rather competently, but still just regular old wrestling. “On the outside we project a regular wrestling match. Its outcome and direction is determined by the FLI system based on what’s going on inside. So, a devastating blow might translate into a power bomb or something.” He clicked again and the images began to blur, blending into the real battle waging behind it. “Adepts can see in, past the illusion, but Norms can’t. That means we can have all-out, full-scale Adept brawls right in front of the ignorant public.” He smiled, standing straight, arms crossed like a proud schoolboy. He turned to see if Slo was as impressed with his lesson as Agony seemed to be, only to find his undivided attention was firmly on Agony. G-Wiz tapped a few more keys and the console folded and slid back out of view. He tried to shrink as he backed out of the place he least wanted to be, the crossfire.

When G-Wiz cleared Slo motioned to the small set of steps leading to the ring, “After you.”

"FLI and the Illusion Generator" Part i

2008-10-19T22:38:00.000-07:00

Excitement coursed through him, anticipation dominating his thought. Soon, soon he’d be here. Agent Ham was true to his word and as a direct result Agony was on his way up. G-Wiz had seen him get on the elevator through the security cameras. Now he wasn’t sure what to do. His body was trying to tell him to run, to retreat into his room, but his mind wanted to stay. Morbid curiosity he supposed, but he had to meet him. Had to know what a man with his background was like. After all, he could handle himself pretty well if it came to it. At least enough to get to his room, and there he would be safe. Resolved to stay, he tried to appear natural; lounged in his chair, legs over the arm, system controller in hand, virtual combat blazing across the TV screen and through the speakers.

When the door finally opened he froze. He didn’t mean to, he just reacted. A deer in headlights, he watched as Agony entered. He was immediately struck by the size of the man. Towering, it was a wonder he got through the door without ducking. And muscle. Not that grotesque body-builder bulk, but lean, hard girth. Solid mass like a Mack truck. He moved with a nonchalant swagger, as if he’d just returned from some errand instead of walking in for the first time. Within a moment Agony’s long strides had him directly in front of G-Wiz. Wide eyed, he couldn’t help but stare.

Agony gave him a curious look; mocking, but in a way, friendly. It was a look that said he’d seen this reaction before and was a little amused by it. He seemed to consider the kid briefly; eyebrow’s rising, “Right.” His demeanor shifted as he turned toward the large TV screen, pointing at the cyber fighters still waging their epic battle, “So, what game you playing?”

The question caught G-Wiz off guard. This wasn’t at all what he’d expected. Agony turned his head with a questioning glance, willing the dumbfounded G-Wiz to snap out of it. A micron of composure returned to him. “Technically none,” he managed to say as he began to remember the controller in his hand. He tuned back to the screen, and instantly felt more confident, now in his element, “I’m testing environments for the Fight Club.”

Agony watched as the kid performed impressive and complicated combat maneuvers inside a virtual environment that looked almost real. He glanced over at him, “You’re doing what now?”

“Testing environments. It’s my Illusion Generator. It lets us—“

“Wiz,” Slo’s voice interrupting him. He appeared out of nowhere, but G-Wiz was used to it. No one ever saw Slo unless he wanted them to. “You gonna introduce me to your friend?”

The kid could tell Agony hadn’t seen him coming. His appearance had either scared or impressed him because he wasn’t friendly or curious anymore. Now he was cautious, watching Slo carefully. “Agony, this is Slo. Slo, Agony.” Agony took his eyes off Slo long enough only to give him a questioning scowl. G-Wiz shrugged, “I saw your file.”

“Wiz.” Slo said the name mildly, but G-Wiz could feel the warning in it.

“What?” It hadn’t occurred to him that the information was secret.

“What kind of name is Slo?” Agony interrupted, attention back on him.

“What kind of name is Agony?” Slo responded now returning the favor, attention locked on the larger man.

“Hell, what kind of name is G-Wiz” him attempting to break the tension. The two men broke their stare to give him a disapproving look. “I’m not helping am I?” G-Wiz turned in his chair, sitting in it properly for the first time and tried to appear invisible as he mashed slowly at his controller buttons.

Agony and Slo turned back, eyes locked, each measuring the other with a fierce intensity. Slo broke the expanding silence first, “What do you say Wiz, shall we show Agony what the Illusion Generator is in person?”

The kid turned slowly, looking to see if Slo was serious. Agony seemed to understand the implications though. He spoke before G-Wiz could reply, “You gonna show me personally, Slo?”

“That’s the idea.”

Like everything, Slo spilled the words like they were no big deal, but G-Wiz knew otherwise. He was picking a fight with Agony. Didn’t seem like a good idea to him, but then again he wasn’t the one getting in the ring so who was he to bitch?

Adept Tales 07...mostly

2008-10-19T22:34:00.000-07:00

Adept Tales 07 is mostly done. The whole thing is 3 parts and I just put the finishing touches on part ii. I was going to wait and post all of them together, but since it's been so long since I've posted, I figured I'd give you i and ii now.

So here it is, part i and part ii of Adept Tales 07 ~Blood and Agony~ "FLI and the Illusion Generator"

By "here" I mean in two separate posts, one for each...

To my four faithful readers

2008-10-09T22:46:00.001-07:00

I apologize for the lack of updates. I recently got a new job and it's made writing time a little scarce. Things should be evening out soon, so bare with me. Adept Tales 07 ~ Blood and Agony ~ "FLI and the Illusion Generator" will be completed as soon as possible!

Adept Tales 06 ~ Blood and Agony ~ “Slo Motion”

2008-09-15T01:38:00.000-07:00

Excitement raged, ambiguous screams egging on the opponents. Fight night. Slo’s favorite night of the week, but not tonight. Tonight he moved through the jostling throng with a sharp eye and a worried heart. Were the Vendot among them? Had they already infiltrated his operation? It was hard to tell. Not all the Vendot operated in the open. Joshua was certainly right about that; secrecy was their bread and butter. He definitely had a vested interest in finding out. Joshua was right about that too. Lost in his worry, the night slipped away without incident, much to his annoyance. He cursed himself softly as the crowd shuffled out of the arena. He’d let his worries dominate him. He knew no one else would notice, but he noticed. As the last of the spectators exited, he cursed himself again. Somewhere during the night he lost track of G-Wiz and now he was already gone.

Even though the fights were over, the Dead Zone was still packed, music shaking the ground as Slo moved toward the doors. Outside he was struck by the deceptive Vegas chill. Huddled into his coat he headed toward his car. It occurred to him he didn’t have to be cold, but he enjoyed the simple pleasure of human gesture. Its nuances were what kept him in business, what kept him 10 steps ahead of the other guy. Except for tonight. Tonight he was off his game. He cursed himself again as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed home.

Home was in one of the new posh corporate condo high-rises built overlooking the Strip. Sage owned several floors and operated Rooms out of them. Living there put him in debt to Sage, but then again, they were pretty easy on his Fight Club, so really he already was. Of course, Sage wasn’t the only downside to living in the Rooms. You also had to put up with sometimes as many as 17 roommates. This particular building was still new enough though that Slo had only a few so far, and most of those he hadn’t even met yet. He himself had only lived there a few weeks, and the lack of decoration as he entered the unit showed the others hadn’t settled in much either. All, that is, except G-Wiz.

Beyond the bare front room was one of the most impressive array of electronics spread from the kitchen into the adjoining living room area. It was bare when Slo first arrived, but shortly after G-Wiz moved in the future tech rooms had manifested. Slo was impressed by the unique design of the equipment and even more so to find the kid had even greater ideas. Ideas that were slowly making his Fight Club the most popular in the city.

As Slo crossed the barren entrance he could hear the familiar beeps and blasts of G-Wiz’s game system. Good, he was home. Slo thought he might be. The kid didn’t go out much, but how many techies did? Slo ascended the few steps separating the front room from the kitchen-living room combo and saw G-Wiz lounged in his chair sideways, legs kicked over the arms. He saw Slo and gave him a nod as he moved to the kitchen island behind G-Wiz and leaned casually against it, watching him as he continued his game. “How’d the unit work tonight?”

G-Wiz paused his game and turned with a confused expression, “Great. Didn’t you see?”

“No, I was a little distracted.”

“That’s not like you.”

“You’re telling me.” Slo brought his hands to his face like he was splashing it with water, rubbing briefly to clean away his doubts. When his hands came away, he was filled with renewed determination. “Ever hear of an Adept called Agony?”

G-Wiz thought about it for a moment, “Sounds a little failure, but not really, no. Why?”

“He’s in town. I need to know where.”

G-Wiz cracked a smile Slo had seen many times before. A laptop manifested onto his lap and he began clicking away at the keys. It seemed to Slo that the keystrokes where over done and in greater number then any computer process he’d ever encountered, but he knew the kid had a flair for the dramatic. He wasn’t the only one who held a fondness for gesture. “Agony. No other known aliases, though obviously not his given name. At least I hope not.” He continued clicking, studying the data as it streamed across his screen. “Wow, this guys got quite a rap sheet; terrorism, vandalism, militant behavior, inciting riots, inciting rebel actions.” He turned to Slo, worry playing plainly across his expression, “And you say this dude’s here? In Vegas?”

Slo ignored the question, “Can you find him?”

G-Wiz turned back to the console continuing his clicking, “Well I’ll be dammed. You’re not gonna believe this.”

“What?”

G-Wiz spun the console, now floating inches above his lap, “He applied for Room assignment.”

Slo pushed away from the island and leaned in. Sure enough, there on the screen was the hacked file showing Agony’s application to Sage. “Interesting. Have they placed him yet?”

He spun the unit back, clicking a few more times, “Nope, not yet. His file’s under review, whatever that means. Doesn’t say why, though I could guess.”

“So could I.” Slo straightened, considering the information. “Can you fudge his assignment? Get him a spot here?”

The fierce clacking of keys that had resumed slowed as a new look of concern dominated G-Wiz’s posture. He turned to Slo beseeching, “Why would you want to do that?”

“I didn’t say I did, I just want to know if.”

The clicking stopped as he closed his console, “Normally, yea, but not with this guy. If he’s under review that means someone’s personally handling his case. They’ll assign him deliberately and manually.”

The chime of the doorbell reverberated through the room. G-Wiz pointed a suddenly present remote at the large TV screen dominating the opposite wall, activating the front door’s security camera, another G-Wiz creation and addition. “Sage,” he warned.

Slo looked to see the familiar figures, “Ham and Fury. Great.” The sarcasm was not lost on anyone in the room. “I’ll get it. Don’t say anything about Agony.” Slo moved to the door as G-Wiz went back to his video game, a move only part subterfuge. Slo doubted the kid had the attention span to really care what was going on. Before opening the door he schooled his face to be pleasant and cooperative, a necessity when dealing with Sage Agents. He smiled at his guests as they came into view beyond the swing of the door, “Evening officers.”

“Evening Slo, how’s it going?” It was Agent Ham who spoke. It was always Ham who spoke. Slo was pretty sure he’d never seen Special Agent Fury speak or give any indication as to what the ‘special’ was for, but he was equally sure he never wanted to see either. “May we come in?”

“Sure thing,” he replied as he stepped aside, ushering their entrance. They moved passed the empty front room and into the area Slo had just been. He gestured to his younger roomie, “You know Wiz.”

Ham nodded, “Indeed.” G-Wiz gave a week nod in reply but kept playing his game.

Two stools appeared where Slo had earlier leaned, “Have a seat. Can I get you anything?” he asked as he moved further into the kitchen.

“No thanks,” Ham replied, taking a seat in one of the stools. Special Agent Fury didn’t, instead continuing past the island to take up station where she could see the whole room.

Slo settled against the sink facing opposite Ham on the other side of the island, leaning again. “What can I do for you?”

Ham reached into his overcoat and produced a file. “We need to cash in a favor.” He slid the file across the island to Slo.

He opened the file and saw the now familiar dossier of one Agony. Popular guy, he thought as he mock reviewed the file. It was almost identical to the one Joshua had shown him, except for Sage protocols. “Quite the character,” he said, closing the file and setting it on the counter. “But what’s it got to do with me?”

“We believe he could be a valuable asset. If we can get him on our side, that is.” Looks like Joshua wasn’t the only one who thought so. Hell, Slo agreed, but he still wasn’t sure why everyone thought he was the guy to do it. What had they seen in the file that he hadn’t? Files weren’t really his area though. There wasn’t anything they could tell him that a few minutes observing a person could. He was much better in person. Ham continued, “He applied for a Room assignment. We’re assigning him here.”

Slo and G-Wiz exchanged a quick glance. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought Fury noticed the look, though she didn’t react to it. “And you want me to do what exactly?”

“Nothing much, really. Just get to know him. Be friendly, or whatever it is you do.” Ah, now he was beginning to see. Slo had a reputation for collecting people. Not in a bad way, but Slo had a way of earning stranger’s confidence. This usually led him to be responsible for them in some way. G-Wiz was proof of that, his most recent project.

“That’s it?”

Ham nodded, “For the most part. We want him to work for us, so a little nudging on your part will be necessary, but first we want to get a read on him. Convincing this guy will require some finesse. He’s not big on authority.” G-Wiz stifled a laugh, causing Ham to turn his attention to him, “We expect you’ll be assisting in this too.” He slid of the stool and straightened his coat, “We’re not asking. You’re both aware of the contract for staying here. It’s not a choice. We’re approving his application tomorrow. Be expecting him.” He signaled to Fury, ready to leave, “We’ll be in touch.” The two headed to and out the door, leaving the two in silence.

Well, he thought, that was the danger of living in the Rooms. He did take a certain amount of satisfaction though in the fact that he was essentially paying back Sage by doing what he was already planning to do. And this way he didn’t have to track Agony down. All he had to do was wait. Oh joy. All this hype, Slo couldn’t wait to meet him. And only most of that was sarcasm.

End

Adept Tales 05 ~Blood and Agony~ "Forces of Nature"

2008-09-06T00:27:00.000-07:00

The dream had always been the same. The forest, the shadowy figure, then his father waking him, the beginning of his training. Each detail memorized and reviewed, always the same. Until recently. The dream had started to change. Little things at first. An expression or phrasing of his father’s words askew, some piece of scenery out of place. All seemed to be clues to a puzzle that Joshua didn’t understand. Last night though he felt as if he’d had a break through. When he arrived at the training circle his father’s eyes were downcast, focused on the symbols surrounding him. When Joshua looked he saw the familiar shapes bend and change. Before his unconscious mind they shifted into the inverted 4-point star of the Vendot. As he continued to gaze, the lines began to fade until they left only a single ‘V’. The dream shattered early, leaving it unfulfilled, but Joshua knew that this was the clue he’d been searching for. The breadcrumb his father had left. Whatever it meant, the Vendot was the key, or at least the starting point. Finally he had something tangible to investigate.

He’d spent most of the day researching the Vendot. Their movements, habits and haunts. The files didn’t tell him much. The Vendot were a violent, chaotic group. There were plenty of reports on various murders, rapes and other vile acts worthy of only the most disturbing horror-core lyrics. Plenty of information, but no pattern. No discernable agenda or motive. Just a storm of destruction and death.

As Joshua sat in his office tower, watching the sun begin to set over the Las Vegas Strip, he knew he had to do what he had hoped to avoid. He pressed the button on the desk and heard the familiar ding of the intercom.

“Yes Mr. Williams.”

“Renee, set up a meeting with Allen Murrs please. This evening if possible.”

“Right away sir.” The intercom went silent as Renee most certainly went about her task.

Allen Murrs. Murrs was the first Adept Joshua had met when he left home for college. At first they were good friends. They shared an interest in deciphering patterns, solving life’s mysteries through observation. But as their acquaintance grew Joshua began to notice a streak in Murrs that shed doubt on their friendship. Philosophically they’d always had a different approach to their ability. Joshua preferred to decipher patterns as they came, dealing with moments as they happened, whereas Murrs liked to bet the odds on the future, following the pattern that most appealed to him. At first it was a harmless difference, but soon Murrs began following paths that had questionable outcomes. People getting pulled under in his tow. Eventually it became too much for Joshua’s conscience and the two stopped being friends. Unfortunately over the years they still managed to come into contact with each other from time to time. Each had skills the other had a need to call on now and again. This time it was Murrs’ turn. Because of his shady habits he also had a plethora of shady contacts. The kind of contacts that might be able to give him more insight into the Vendot. At least that’s what he hoped. If Murrs couldn’t help him, he wasn’t sure where to go next.

The intercom buzzed and Renee’s voice came over the static, “Sir, Mr. Murrs says he’s down the street and to tell you he was expecting your call. He’ll be here in 15 minutes.”

That was just like Murrs. Nearly nothing ever got by him. He always saw what was coming. “Thank you Renee. When he gets here send him right in, then you can cut out for the weekend.”

“Very well sir.”

Exactly 15 minutes later Allen Murrs walked into Joshua’s office, perfectly on time. As he came through the door he was turned, craning at Renee as she headed to the elevator to leave for the night, “Hey suga, don’t leave yet. After the meeting we cou--.” Murrs cut off as if on cue as the elevator doors closed. Chuckling he turned to Joshua, “I knew she wouldn’t go for it, but it’s fun to watch em squirm.” Already Joshua was regretting his decision.

“Have a seat. Want a drink?”

“Sure. Scotch and soda, easy on the soda.” Joshua walked over to his office bar as Murrs plopped down into a chair and put his feet up on Joshua’s desk. “So, what is it you need my expertise on this time?” Joshua had forgotten what it was like to be around Murrs. He oozed a slime ball attitude and his quasi gweedo persona was punctuated by his bright suits and pony tailed hair. Joshua pushed his feet off the desk as he handed him his drink.

“I need information on the Vendot.”

“No foreplay huh, just right to the meat of it.”

Joshua moved around the desk and sat in his own chair across from Murrs. “Can you help me?”

Murrs leaned forward, setting his drink on the desk, “Well that’s a difficult question to answer.”

For the second time Joshua was having second thoughts. Murrs was toying with him, baiting him to get information he could use. He sighed, gazing wearily at the other man, “Why?”

“Well, no one really knows anything about the Vendot except the Vendot, and they ain’t exactly holding seminars is they?”

“So we get a guy on the inside.” It still struck Joshua funny how easily the two could slip into a working relationship. He didn’t even question if Murrs would try to help. He knew he would. It was almost refreshing to be able to skip past the bullshit and get down to the business at hand. Almost, that is, if it wasn’t Allen Murrs who he found so easy to work with.

Murrs leaned back in his chair and almost chuckled, “Not fucking likely. This ain’t the boy scouts or hell, even the mob. It’s not like you can just paint up one of your Rose saints and send em in. Those crazies would sniff em out in a second.”

“Rose saints, huh? Cute.” As Joshua stifled a chuckle of his own his office door flew open.

“Speak of the devil,” Murrs didn’t even flinch. He always knew.

Fane came striding into the office with a worried expression and a file folder in his hand. Fane was Joshua’s top pupil. His intrusion wasn’t an interruption. He mostly had carte blanche when it came to matters under his watch and Joshua knew that if he was here it was important. He came to Joshua’s desk and slid the file to him. “We might have problem. New player in town.” Fane threw a disapproving glance at Murrs before turning his attention back to Joshua. “Guy named Agony. Has a nasty rep.”

“Holy shit. Agony’s here?” Murrs sounded shocked and even a little scared. Never a good sign.

“What? Why? Who’s Agony?” Joshua asked as he picked up the file and began scanning through it.

“Agony isn’t a who as much as he’s a force of nature,” answered Murrs. “He’s an anarchist. And I mean that in the truest sense of the word. Not like these pussy protesters you see at GOP conventions, but the real deal. Violent, destructive and don’t answer to nobody.”

“Sounds like you’ve had dealings with him before.” The disdain in Fane’s voice was thick enough to choke on. He did not like Murrs one bit, which stood to reason. Fane was a good person. One of the purest souls Joshua had come across. He could smell the taint on Murrs and he certainly didn’t hold back his distrust.

“No, not exactly, but I’ve heard stories.” The hatred from Murrs was just as palatable. The two held no love for each other.

Something clicked. Joshua did know the name. “Wait, is this the same Agony who toppled the government in that island country a few years back?”

“That’s the guy,” Fane this time. “And that’s just the tip. He’s been involved in countless revolutionary actions, though it’s tough to say which side he’s on once one wins. In a few incidents he’s gone right back and toppled the new leaders too. On top of his political resume he’s been involved in the downfall of several corporations as well. Where ever this guy goes, authority falls.” Fane had certainly done his homework. That was one of the many reasons why Joshua put so much trust in him.

As Joshua continued to study the file a pattern began to emerge. There. Right there. “He’s perfect.”

Murrs looked up from a thought he must have been having with shocked eyes, “Are you nuts? No way, no fucking way.”

“Wait, perfect for what?” Fane was looking back and forth between the two men now locked in a stare.

“We need information on the Vendot. The only way to get it is to get someone inside.”

“And you want to use this guy? Hell, I hate to agree with Allen, but are you crazy?”

Without taking his gaze from Murrs’ he slid the file back to Fane, “Look again. Tell me what you see.”

Fane picked up the file skeptically, but he was used to this kind of treatment from Joshua. He often didn’t point out the answers, but rather encouraged you to find them yourself. As he flipped through the practically memorized file he began to see it too. “The government. The one on the island. They were oppressive. Quality of life there has increased since Agony was there. It’s still not any place I’d go for vacation, but it’s better.”

“So what? What does that prove?” Murrs wasn’t liking this one bit.

Joshua’s eyes still held strong to Murrs, willing him to see the pattern, “What else?”

“Umm,” Fane continued to scan. There, “The Redreese Corporation. They tested deadly chemicals near a small village. Their collapse saved the village.” Murrs gave a disbelieving grunt to which Fane turned his attention to, “There’s more too. In every act he’s been involved in there’s been some positive outcome. Not always a great grand outcome, but this guy’s definitely done some good.” He slid the file to Murrs and turned to Joshua, “You’re right. He’s perfect.” The staring contest ended as Murrs picked up the file and Joshua looked to Fane approvingly. It was Murrs’ turn to look back and forth between them in confusion.

“You guys are nuts. Even if I agree that he could do it, there’s no way you’ll get him too. You represent authority in your pretty little executive office. He wouldn’t give you the time of day.”

“True. We’ll have to find someone he will listen to.” He turned back to Murrs with a look that nearly made the man flinch. He’d seen the look before. It was the look that said ‘I know you know a way.’

“You’re not gonna budge on this are you?”

“No, no I’m not.”

“Fine," he sighed, "I might know a guy. I still think you’re crazy, but if anyone can do it, it’s him.” Murrs gave another half chuckle, “Though I don’t know you’ll have much luck getting his help either. He’s not much better then Agony when it comes to authority.” He looked at his watch and stood, “Well we better get going if we want to catch him before he gets too busy.”

“Who?”

“People call him Slo.” Murrs gave a contemplative look, “I’m not sure I’ve ever heard him call himself anything.” He shrugged, continuing, “He runs the Fight Club down at the Dead Zone. Ex-Military or some shit.”

“Why do they call him Slo?”

“Oh no, I won’t ruin all my fun tonight. You’re just gonna have to see for yourself.” The grin that populated Murrs’ face nearly gave Joshua pause. There was something in this for him now. Something Joshua hadn’t seen. But it didn’t matter. If Murrs thought this Slo character could get Agony on their team then he had to try. The dreams assured him of that much.

The Dead Zone was the number one hang out for Adepts in Las Vegas. And not just Adepts. Norms frequented the place too. A difficult balancing act to be sure, but they managed. On a cool November Friday night, it was sure to be packed. As they pulled into the parking lot, a large crowd had already gathered.

“Hope we’re not too late. If the fights have started he won’t talk to us.” Murrs pulled his beat up Cutlass into the closest spot he could find, nearly 50 yards away from the doors. They’d taken his car to avoid looking too ‘richy’ as Murrs put it. Joshua had even dressed down, though he still emitted an air of authority no matter what he wore.

The club had been built in what was once a supermarket in an abandoned plaza. Even with the Dead Zone’s success, the surrounding area had not benefited. A stone’s throw from their parking spot looked like a dying slum careening toward becoming a ghost town. Homeless, addicts and derelict destitute dominated the wasteland, milling about around burnt out trashcans and sleeping in cardboard domiciles. It dawned on Joshua that the Dead Zone had impacted the area after all. The unwashed forgotten had increased quite a bit, flourishing off of the cast off life force of the shimmering masses next door.

As they got closer to the doors, Joshua noticed a change. The people loitering in the waste were no longer the typical cast off refugees you’d expect to see. No, these people looked, well, normal. They all meandered in the same way, crouched similarly to their less fortunate companions further back, but they all looked like regular people, as if they came here after a long day at work or school.

Joshua stopped, studying the strange crowd, “Who are those people?” Fane stopped too. He noticed the change as well.

Murrs stopped a few paces ahead and looked to where Joshua was motioning. “Oh them? No one knows really. They just started showing up a few weeks ago. They don’t bother anyone. Keep to themselves mostly.”

That didn’t make sense. What was driving them? Why here? Then a terrible pattern began to form in front of Joshua. There and there again. The same on all of them. “It’s the Vendot.”

“What? No way. Not their MO. It’s just some crazy cult or something, like those carnival kids.” Murrs turned to start walking again dismissively, but Joshua and Fane held.

“No, look closer. They’re marked.”

Fane stretched his vision, tried to see the way Joshua had taught him. To see the patterns. There it was. He saw it too. They were marked. Sure enough on all of the strange company somewhere there was a single ‘V’. All were different; some in a tattoo or shirt logo or other marking that formed the shape of a ‘v’, but still, each one had it. “I see it. Shit, I see it too.”

Joshua turned to his protégé, “Check it out. See if they’ll talk and if they know anything.” Fane nodded and headed immediately to his quarry. He didn’t expect him to discover much. Not because he didn’t have faith in Fane, but because he could feel the shroud surrounding the pattern. The ‘V’s were definitely the clue, but already he knew the direct approach wouldn’t work. “Come on Murrs, lets go meet your guy.” Joshua continued for the door, but Murrs hesitated a moment, watching Fane meld into the confounding crowd.

Inside the Dead Zone was like another world. The division of the space was genius as far as Joshua was concerned. Immediately upon entering you were thrown into an open concert area, large and open, but on nights like this it was packed. Many bands, mostly of the underground variety, played the venue. It was the only one of it’s kind since the Huntridge was condemned. Tonight the crowd was filled with the painted faces of the dominant horror-core crew; the carnival kids as Murrs had called them. Joshua looked over at Murrs who was grinning back at him. Just like Murrs. The devastating rattle and hum of the rap duo on stage dominated the crowd’s attention as Joshua took in the scene.

Directly to the right was a less chaotic concession area with tables and a bar, though all were filled now. Further from the doors, off to the left beyond the hall floor, stretching half the far wall was an arcade/pool hall. There things looked much quieter, the game area being somewhat secluded from the rest of the club, mainly due to what neighbored it. The other half of the left wing was their destination; a separate room with a full sized wrestling ring complete with bleacher stands. The sight of Slo’s Adept Fight Club. The entrance was clamoring with people, but no one was getting in. Good, it hadn’t started yet.

Joshua and Murrs made their way easily through the moshing crowd. Most of them were Norms. The Adepts were the clamoring masses outside the fight sight. Joshua recognized a few faces, but Murrs seemed to know everyone, though not everyone seemed happy about it. Others did though, and the pair managed to reach the front of the line with only a few groans from those waiting. Murrs strode to the bouncer, “Hey Jimmie, boss around?”

Jimmie didn’t seem happy to see Murrs, “No way, man. I already told you we don’t fix fights here, now get lost.” Jimmie stood revealing the massive bulk of him, well hidden when seated. Murrs didn’t seem concerned, but the line wasn’t so sure. As one they backed away giving the trio plenty of room.

“Calm down, calm down. It ain’t about that. My friend here has a job opportunity right up his alley.” Murrs gave the man what Joshua could only describe as an underworld wink.

Jimmie shifted his gaze to Joshua, measuring him. After what was certainly a thorough stare down, his demeanor softened, or as much as mountain is able to. “Okay, fine. I’ll tell him.” The big man shifted back at Murrs, “But if you try and pull some shit…” He didn’t need to finish the sentence. He simply became menacing. The line crowd moved back again, but Murrs still seemed unaffected. Joshua too wasn’t moved by the threat, but then it wasn’t directed at him. He wasn’t so sure his nerves would hold if that look were for him. Jimmie disappeared into the arena, and emerged again shortly later. “He’ll see you. Go on in.” The mass moved away from the door, glaring at Murrs as he passed.

Inside was empty except for a kid who seemed to be working on some sort of projector mounted above the ring. He took mild notice as the two walked toward the back where the locker rooms and office were. Before reaching the open office door, Murrs stopped, “Are you sure you want to do this?” Joshua just looked at the man. “Fine, fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The office they entered was dark but rather plain. The rectangular room stretched along blank walls to a large desk and two simple chairs for the guests. On the other side of the desk sat a man who had the look of someone waiting, yet at the same time like someone who could wait forever if necessary. Oceans of patience ebbed and flowed around him. Joshua understood the moniker ‘Slo’ now.

“Have a seat gentleman.” His voice too held a reserve, and you knew it would sound the same even if the building was burning down around him. “Murrs. Wish I could say it was good to see you, but didn’t I ban you from the fights?”

Murrs hesitated slightly as he sat, looking almost nervously at Slo. Nervous? Murrs was never nervous. Interesting. “I apologize for that,” Joshua interceded. “I asked him to bring me. Told him rather.” Murrs paled a bit beside Joshua, but he let him take the lead, sulking down to a hunch. “I need your help with something.”

Slo’s eyes slid slowly to Joshua. Again he felt the draw of those eyes spread empty for eternity, infinitely calm. “Go ahead.”

“What do you know about the Vendot?”

“Enough to know I don’t want to know.” Slo leaned back in his chair, elbows propped on the arms, fingers arched together.

“What if I made it worth your while to know?”

Slo laughed, abrupt yet measured, “And how would you do that? It’s not like you can pay me off. Money’s not really a marketable asset to us you know.”

“Have you noticed the new vagrants outside the club?”

“Yea. So?” Slo crossed his arms and sighed as if bored.

“What if I told you the Vendot was connected to them?”

“Is that true?”

“Yes. I believe so.”

He thought about it, Joshua could see the wheels turning, weighing the impact of a Vendot infestation this close to his business. He sighed again, this time in appeasement. “Then I’d say it’s worth my while. What’s your plan?”

“The Vendot are secretive. Very secretive. We need to get someone inside.”

Murrs rolled his eyes and scoffed. Slo considered the idea briefly, “Makes sense, but why come to me. I mean I’m not enemies with the Vendot, but I’m not exactly friends either.”

Joshua manifested the file on Agony and handed it to Slo, “You’re not the someone I had in mind.”

Slo opened the file and scanned through, “Agony? Yea, I heard he was in town. You think he’d go for it?”

“He fits the profile. I wouldn’t be surprised if they weren’t already scouting him.”

Slo set the file down on the desk and went back to his finger prayer position, “Okay, but do you think he’ll go for it?”

“He’ll go for it, but you have to sell it. Think you can handle that?”

“Wait, you’re not really considering this?” Murrs blurted, no longer able to keep silent.

Ignoring the outburst Slo said, “Ya, I can do it.”

Murrs burst out of his chair. “This is bullshit. You’re both crazy. Did you look at the file? What makes you think you can control this guy.”

Joshua heard the ominous click of a gun hammer being pulled back as Murrs felt a barrel press against the back of his head. A shadowy figure that was Slo but not Slo stood behind him while he still sat in his chair. “What makes you think you can control me?” Murrs hadn’t seen it coming. Shock played plainly across his face. This guy was good, real good.

“You’ll do.”

End

Adept Tales 04 “Stardust”

2008-08-12T16:20:00.000-07:00

Broc hated drug dealers. They creeped him out. But if Rand said this guy Tric had something they needed then he’d tough it out. After all, being tough was kind of his thing. The complex he lived in, nick named the Cinder Box for the amount of times it’s gone up in flames, looked to Broc to be just the sort of place a tweaked out dealer would live. Run down, off the main drag, and rarely frequented by cops or outsiders. The kind of hole Norm scum go to be forgotten. As they approached the door Broc had to stifle a shiver. He really did hate drug dealers. They tended to be jumpy. Especially if you weren’t expected, and Broc and Rand were not expected.

Rand went to the door first with Broc behind him in the standard tuff-guy pose; arms crossed over his chest, menacing scowl on his face. Rand, going for a cordial meeting, knocked politely on the door to a response of, “Fuck off!”

“So much for being polite,” Rand said turning to Broc with a mischievous smile on his face. “We’ll just have to knock harder.” Broc knew this to be his queue. He smiled a mirror of Rand’s, stepped forward as the other man slid behind him and slammed into the door with massive force. The door splintered inward revealing a stunned Tric and an even more stunned young woman.

Tric was sitting on a couch, pants around his ankles. She was kneeled in front of him, no doubt putting the finishing touches on an oral performance. Broc could see right away that the girl was way out of this dudes league. He looked exactly as he had imagined; skinny, frail, cracked out. But she was a bombshell. Blonde, nicely proportioned, perfect skin, beautiful eyes. Not the kind of chick you usually find bobbing the knob of some skeevy crank dealer. But there she was.

Rand walked in with his sadistic cool, “I think its time to go love.” The girl didn’t even hesitate. She simply scooped up her pride and ran. “Mind tucking that away there mate?” Tric scrambled to pull his pants up as the two headed further into the room. Broc filled the room with a menacing presence. Tric paled.

“What’s going on? Who are you guys?” Panic was playing across his face along with confusion, anger taking a back seat to caution.

“You’ve been a very naughty boy, Tric.” That sadistic cool laid thick as Rand moved closer to the frail man.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Nerves made the words come out in a stutter.

“Oh come now, you’re telling me that girl was here cause you're just that smooth?” Rand plopped down on the couch next to Tric and it was as if a switch was flipped; sadistic cool to best friend. “Don’t worry, we’re not here to bust you.” A glance at Broc told him to tone down the muscle bit. Tric suddenly found it was easier to breathe. The whole atmosphere in the room seemed to be more inviting. Tric visibly relaxed.

“If you’re not here to bust me then what do you want?”

“We just want to know how you did it.”

“What do you mean?”

“How did you get that girl in here without Sage banging down your door?”

“Oh, that.” Tric stood up and headed toward the kitchen, “Just a special concoction of mine.” It never ceased to amaze Broc the way people instantly took to Rand. Even having busted down his door and chased away his Norm slut, Tric was now treating them as if they were old friends. Rand had this affect on most people, and only part of it was Adept ability. Mostly it was just him. He had that kind of aura about him that drew people to him.

Rand got up and walked over to the standard issue apartment bar that overlooked into the kitchen. Broc followed close behind. Tric opened a cupboard and pulled out a jar of what looked like purple powder. He held the jar up, looking at it with a lustful gaze, “This is Stardust.”

“Stardust?”

“Yea, Stardust.” Tric shook himself out of whatever dark thoughts he was having holding the jar, and set it on the bar in front of Rand. “That’s just what I’m calling it. Has a nice ring doesn’t it?”

Rand picked up the jar and turned it in his hand, watching the purple crystals swim under the glass, “Sure, sure, but what’s it do?”

Tric hopped up so he was sitting on the counter directly across from Rand. “Ah, well, lots of things really. It gets you high as fuck. Well, not you. Norms. It only works on them. It’s highly addictive, but it has no physical symptoms. All mental shit, so no one goes all cracked out, but they keep coming back anyway. And they’ll do anything for another taste. Anything.”

“Like blowing a cracked out dirtball like you? No offence.” It sounded harsh, even to Broc, but he knew Tric wouldn’t take it that way. Another of Rand’s social gifts.

“Yea, like blowing a cracked out dirtball like me.” Broc mentally shook his head. Amazing.

“But that still doesn’t explain how you kept Sage out of your deal. You gotta be breaking several of their Guidelines.”

“Not really. The drug itself is real. The only manifested part in the whole deal is the equipment used to make it. Other then that it’s 100% genuine so it doesn’t leave an Adept imprint behind. It also has a detoxifying agent in it that cleanses the user of not only the chemical traces of Stardust, but also any other drug in the system. My personal favorite, this turns junkies hooked on smack into clean upstanding citizens hooked on Stardust instead. Which is untraceable. No one comes looking for a source of a drug that doesn’t exist.” Tric smiled brightly. He was certainly proud of his creation.

“You’re pretty smart for a tweaker.” Rand placed the jar on the counter and looked at the other man intently.

“Thanks…” Tric hesitated, not sure what to make of the look on Rand’s face.

Rand sighed and relaxed his stare, “Too smart to be hustling these low games.” This was it. This is why they were here. Rand slipped into his routine. The same kind of routine that made him popular to the neo-nazi youth he used to recruit before he manifested. Again, this was mostly him. His natural disposition inspired people to follow his lead.

Broc had heard it all before. Had even been taken in by it himself. Rand wove a verbal web of how Norms were less then they were. How Adepts were like gods and deserved to be treated as such. How Sage suppressed our freedom for the sake of lesser beings. All beautifully mocked up to be words of gospel to all that heard it. Tric was hooked. Broc could see it in his eyes, filled with open adoration for Rand.

“Shit, you’re right. I never thought of it that way.” Tric’s face held emotion like he’d finally found purpose.

Rand’s tone came dark and serious, “Then you’d be willing to use your gift to help your brethren?” Shadows formed around the apartment and Broc could feel their eagerness at hearing the answer.

Tric slid off the counter, falling to a ragged kneel. “Yes. Yes, I’ll do what ever you want.”

The shadows rejoiced and engulfed the room. Rand’s voice came out of the darkness, thick with jubilant malice, “Welcome to the Vendot.”

End

Adept Tales 03 ~Shattered Dreams~ "The Morning After"

2008-08-06T23:57:00.000-07:00

The world is often confusing when you first wake up. Shattered dreams blend into the day leaving traces of fantasy behind. It’s strange that I can still clearly remember the dream I was having that day. I was walking through a dark forest that wasn’t a forest. Everything bent and changed around me, forming into something new. Something that was somehow still surrounded by trees but on the edge of being something else. A figure began forming out of the darkness. I could almost make out the wavy face when the dream shattered.

“Wake up Joshua. It’s time.” At first I thought it was the dark figure who said it, and sometimes, looking back, I think it might have been. As the world began to refocus, I saw my father standing in my bedroom doorway. Whatever piece of the dream world that still had me washed away when I saw his face. His eyes where red and puffy like he’d been crying, but the expression on his face was emotionless.

“What is it? What’s wrong? Time for what?” I asked as I frantically got up from my bed.

“Just get dressed and meet me out back.” His voice held the same emotion his face did, none. In 11 years of life, I’d never heard my father talk that way. It frightened me in a way I’ve never experienced since. With that he turned and walked away, leaving me in my confusion and fear.

I got dressed as fast as I could, afraid to leave the man waiting too long. He had always been stern, but something about the way he was acting made me believe the consequences would be great if I wasn’t prompt. As I headed through the house to the back door I noticed Abigail’s door was open. She wasn’t in her room which, normally, wouldn’t be strange all on its own, but with our father acting like he was I began to wonder. I stopped in the hall and listened for signs of life. Our house was small enough and old enough that just about any movement made some sort of noise. I strained my ears, but there was nothing. As far as I could tell no one was home. Maybe she was outside too.

It’s strange now to remember that I wasn’t the least bit concerned about where Mom was. For some reason it didn’t seem out of place even though it was as well. My only thoughts were of Abigail and my father's strange mood. I hurried toward the backdoor with renewed apprehension. Maybe the answers were outside too.

Our house sat nearly hidden in what passed for a forest in the mountains of Southern Nevada. Our backyard wasn’t much more than a small clearing. As I emerged from the back door I nearly fell as I struggled to comprehend what I was seeing. My father stood in the middle of the clearing, head down, arms clutched behind his back. There was a circle of strange symbols burned into the ground around him forming a wide circle. I stopped, mouth gaping open. If I hadn’t been confused before, I was then.

When my eyes could finally stop to focus on one thing, what they chose was my father’s eyes. His head was still down, but his eyes were turned up to me, piercing me. His gaze was like a weight or maybe gravity. I suddenly felt separated from my body and I had a sense that I was taking a step forward. Even now I don’t know why I resisted it, but I did. In my mind I fought for my own control, and as if a fog lifted, my senses rushed back into my body. I took the step back, fear dancing through every inch of my nerves.

“Come to me Joshua.” I felt the sensation try at me again. It was like an invisible force was trying to push me aside. I braced myself, stood my metaphysical ground, and felt the force wash over me and recede. My father’s facial expression never changed, but he raised his head and gave a small nod, “Very good. Now, please, enter the circle and stand before me.”

Maybe it was the please, or that I was able to consciously resist the second wave, but I did as he asked. I slowly walked forward and crossed over the symbols etched in the earth. As soon as I was across I felt something break over me. A sensation unlike anything I’d ever felt before surged through me, and I felt within me a spark spread to meet the growing energy. When the initial rush faded I was left breathless, but I felt energized, like I could do anything. I could still feel the power, but I was riding with it instead of being ridden.

“This is a training circle and has been used for a thousand generations to hone the skills of our people. It is designed to amplify the Shine inside you.” He spoke as a lecturer does to his class. The words seemed official and bland, as if he’d said them a million times.

I knew I shouldn’t ask, but the words formed before I could stop them, “What’s the Shine?”

Anger flashed on his face for only the briefest of moments before returning to his emotionless mask, “The Shine is a powerful energy. It seeps into the cracks of reality and binds with it. It also flows through us, is one with us. We use the Shine to help us bend and shape reality. When you are skilled enough you will be able to use it to manifest your will.”

“Manifest my will?”

“Yes.” He seemed sad when he said it though his voice and expression hadn’t changed. I realized with a shock that I could actually feel his sorrow coming off him in waves.

“Father, where’s Abigail?” There, just for a flash, the sadness filled his eyes, then gone. I felt him draw back his emotions, felt a barrier crash into place blocking me out. His eyes went cold and distant, even more so then before.

“Abigail’s gone.” He continued on like the question was never asked or that the answer was sufficient, “You’ve already had a taste of the first lesson, but let’s explore further.” I felt his essence crash into me. I tried to resist, but it was stronger this time. “You must first learn to protect yourself. Block me out, push me aside!”

I felt my mind open to him, felt the walls that held me together crumble away. I knew, without knowing how or why, that he had me. Every thought I ever had was laid bare. I knew he could destroy my mind, or even rebuild it if he wished. I screamed wordlessly and fell to my knees gripping my head as if it would help. I felt everything wash away, and I was left floating in blackness. Then there was nothing and I was gone.

After what seemed like an eternity, I came back to myself. I was floating in blackness, surrounded by a strange web of purple energy. My father’s voice came out of the darkness, “This is the Spirit Web. It binds all things together.” As he spoke pieces of the world began forming in the web. Even now, I’m not sure how I knew, but I could tell that each partial of reality was attached to the web. I could see almost without seeing as the threads intertwined and connected the trees, our house, even me. “The Shine allows us to see the web,” and as he said it I could see the Shine as well.

The light of it seemed to fill every space on and between the web. The sheer magnitude of it was overwhelming. It filled me and seemed to burst from my pores. The feeling was too much. I screamed again, trying to push it all aside. Suddenly it was gone. I was left panting on the ground inside the training circle, the web and the Shine seemed to disappear, but I knew they were still there.

“Very good,” my father said with a strange smile on his face, “there may be hope for you yet.”

End

New Direction-ish

2008-08-06T23:31:00.000-07:00

I've made a semi-official decision to play out "The" story through Adept Tales. In a way, that's how this whole thing started. When I first came up with the idea, I really wanted to do a comic book (I was 12, they were cool...still are actually, but that's not the point) but the only thing I can draw are stick figures. So I wrote them as stories, but in a comic book format with series numbers and such. Of course I didn't write many (see first post) but you get the idea. So, I'm just going to build off of that original idea.

There are going to be multiple story lines going on so from now on each Tale will have a tittle and possibly a 'Path' identifying which story line it's connected to. For example, a future one might be called Adept Tales 15 ~PitPat and the Past~ "Lets Play a Game".

Also, I really, really, really would like to make these stories illustrated. I've vetoed the comic idea, but I still would love to have a visual interpretation of my world. If you're an artist and are interested, sketch me something based one one of the stories already posted and email it to me.

So there you go. It seems like for the most part Adept Tales is taking over. Other random, non-adept related stories may pop up from time to time, but not often I suspect. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the series as much as I'm going to enjoy writing it. Feedback is always welcome as well, so please comment.

Adept Tales 02 "Hallowicked"

2008-08-04T18:04:00.000-07:00

Halloween was going to be great this year. It had to be. He’d spent months planing, buying decorations, building props and sets, developing costume ideas…preparing. Halloween was the only holiday Brandon liked. It was the one time of year when the unnoticed could be noticed. When it was okay to be different because, on that night, everyone was. Ever since he was 8 years old, he’d dreamt of having the prefect Halloween. In truth, it had been since then that he’d been planning this night. This night. The thought sent a shiver through him. All this time, and it was finally here.

He had the entire thing planned to a tee. He’d designed the set in the front yard to not only be scary, but to also be easy to put together so it could mysteriously materialize minutes before sundown. His costumes too were a combination of street cloths and elaborate yet easily adorned accessories designed to allow for quick changes depending on the situation and candy customer. These things were the easy part. The part that Brandon’s parents had agreed to. The part they even helped fund. The real trick was the haunted house. The haunted house was the corner stone of the entire plan. The costumes and yard make over where just window dressing. The real attraction was always the haunted house. Unfortunately, Brandon’s parents were not cooperative. “Do what ever you want to the yard, but leave the inside alone!” He’d spent years trying to convince them otherwise to no avail, but this year gave him a unique opportunity.

Brandon’s parents weren’t into Halloween the way he was. Mom’s holiday was Christmas; Dad’s, Thanksgiving. But even those they approached with lackadaisical enthusiasm. What that meant for Brandon was that his parents had never in his life gone to a holiday party of any kind. This year though, Dad started a new job at some multi-million dollar IT company. He managed to land a position that was just low enough on the totem poll to not be overly stressful, but high enough to be noticed if you don’t attend a company event. And lucky for Brandon, J.W. Technologies threw a huge Halloween party every year. Guess who was going.

What may seem to you as a sliver of an opening was the Grand Canyon for Brandon. He knew his parents well. Well enough to know they’d stay at the party till next to ending. Dad was always overly conscious of appearances and would stay and appear to have a great time until they started cleaning up. And if he really wanted to impress someone, he’d help clean up. He really wanted to impress these guys. By all accounts it was a great place to work, and the benefits he got blew any other employer out of the water. Oh yea, he’d stay. Brandon knew this with a reasonable amount of surety.

That gave him the house, but how to get it all ready in time? The party started at 6 p.m. but Dad would want to get there early, say 5 or 5:30, which only left Brandon a half-hour, hour max to set up. He’d been very careful to not tip his hand to his parents. He hadn’t told anyone about the haunted house, relying on the scenery to draw customers on the day of. He hadn’t wrote or sketched any of the details the way he had the front yard. He hadn’t even bought most of the supplies he needed yet. He knew if his parents caught wind of it they might not go or make him go with, and he couldn’t have that. He worked very hard to keep his parents overly aware of that which he was allowed to do and oblivious to that which he wasn’t.

At 4:30 Brandon sat impatiently in his room waiting for his parents to leave. Every few seconds he’d look at his watch or bedside clock, agonizing over each moment in anticipation of the event. He’d already bribed some neighborhood kids into setting up the yard for him, so all he had to worry about was the house. If they left when he hoped they would, he’d have just over an hour to get to the store, grab what he needed, get back and set up the inside before sundown. It seemed feasible to him. He knew exactly what he needed at the store and had been scoping it out for weeks, strategically planning his route to increase expedition. Timed on several occasions, he could get to the store, through his route and back home in 20 minutes. If everything went to plan, he’d have 40 minutes to get the haunt in the house. He could do that. If his schedule got thrown off though, he might be pushing it. If the line at the store was long, if there was traffic, if his parents didn’t leave till later…What time is it? Looking at the clock again, 4:31.

By 5 Brandon is worked up near to frenzy. Why are they still here? Leave already! He watched painstakingly as the moments ticked away. At 5:02 he’s pacing. Come on, come on. If you go now I’ll have time. 5:03. Shit, shit. I should have had a plan B. Why didn’t I develop a plan B? 5:04 and Brandon’s near tears. I can still do it but I won’t be ready at sundown. It won’t be perfect. All that planning. And what if they don’t go at all? So close, I was so—“Brandon hunny, we’re leaving. Have a good time tonight.”

Relief washed over him as he ran to his bedroom window to watch them drive away. As soon as they were around the corner he sprinted down the stairs and out to his beat up orange VW Bug. Maybe next year he’d paint it like a pumpkin like he’d always wanted to, but now wasn’t about the car. It was about the house. He sped away, giving a wave and a nod to the neighborhood kids to make sure they hadn’t forgotten their duties. As he hit the main street, luck continued to be with him; traffic was light. He made it to the store in record time. I’m going to make it! Excitement building, bubbling ever closer to the inevitability of his triumph.

The store too was on his side. Someone was pulling out as he pulled in so he got a close parking space. Everything he wanted was in stock and when he got to the register there was no line. With his cart full and his wallet empty he sped out to the parking lot. He was so focused on his plan and so excited for it’s completion that he almost didn’t see Johnny Landaus and Paul Murphy on their collision course with him. Almost. He looked up from the 5th inventory he’d done on the bags since leaving the register just in time to see them come a bow to his cart.

Paul stopped the cart with the menace typical of every high school bully, “Whatcha got here, Blandon?”

“Huh, huh, Blandon. Good one Paul.” Blandon? Was that Johnny and Paul’s idea of wit? What the hell does that even mean? That he’s bland? Is that even an insult? If so it’s not a very good one.

“Hey, I’m talking to you space case.” The menace level turned up a notch. Paul didn’t need to be witty. He was violent and that trumped witty in a fight.

“Supplies. It’s supplies. I’m putting together a haunted house.”

“A haunted house? Cool.” Johnny didn’t have wit or violence, but he did whatever Paul said and that was dangerous in a whole different way.

“A haunted house, huh? What, you got some strobe lights and fake skeletons so you can lure dudes into your bedroom?” To this Johnny laughed hysterically. At least he thought Paul was funny.

Normally Brandon would be intimidated by this situation, but he was too close to let a couple bullies snare him for long. “Right. I’d invite you guys, but you already have each other, right?" Johnny didn’t get the joke, but Paul did. Brandon watched as his face turned several shades of red and purple. He could feel more than see Paul’s muscles bunch for a punch.

“Everything ok out here?” Saved by the rent-a-cop. Paul’s muscles relaxed, but his eyes pierced into Brandon with a merciless fury. “I said is everything ok?”

With a smirk Brandon just couldn’t help he said, “Yea, everything’s fine. These guys were just leaving.” His eyes never left Paul’s, and he couldn’t help but feel like he was in a movie. He couldn’t believe this was happening. That he’d stood up to Paul and his boy toy. He felt like he could do anything in that moment.

“Right. Let’s get a move on then. You’re loitering.”

Paul backed off the cart as Brandon nodded to the rent-a-cop and continued to his car. When he fired up the engine and saw the time he was amazed. 5:11. Even with that episode he was somehow ahead of schedule. He really was going to make it.

When he pulled in front of his house he was pleased to see the neighborhood kids diligently at work setting up the yard. He smiled and tossed a bag of candy to one of them. This was part of the bribe. When he got inside he immediately got to work. With expert speed and precision he plotted out the course of the haunted house. Elements flew into place as the atmosphere of his home changed into an eerie, creaky, dark abode of horror. By 5:36 every thing was ready. 5:36? I still have a half-hour before show time! Secretly this is what he’s hoped for all along.

Since he had to keep the haunted house secret from his parents he hadn’t been able to do any promoting. And while the front yard did look awesome (the neighborhood kids did an excellent job setting up) he wasn’t sure it would be enough to get people into the haunted house. But now that he had extra time, he could hit the streets and drum up business. He designed a costume specifically for this task. Like everything, it was easy to put on, incorporating his regular cloths. After less then a minute he was adorned in the perfect approximation of an undead sideshow caller. Off he went down the street, announcing along the way, “Haunted House at sundown! Don’t miss the spectacle that will leave you in terror for years to come. Come on down, all ages welcome. No charge and candy for the kiddies at the back door. Haunted House at sundown!”

Time and excitement got away from him. He found that many of his neighbors were very interested in his haunted house, expressing their intent to attend. Soon the whole tract was abuzz. Brandon was elated. All his expectations were not only coming true, but also being exceeded. Only now he found himself blocks away from home with mere minutes till sundown.

He ran full tilt back to his street, fueled by pride and anticipation. When he got to his house, panting from the exertion, his heart dropped. No. Even in his head the word was filled with defeat and depression. The yard was destroyed. Decorations were torn down. Caskets smashed to splinters. Fake webbing burned and smoldering on the lawn alongside ripped open trash bags and their intestines. No! This time more forceful, more defiant. Brandon ran inside, threw open the door, No, no, no, no. Destroyed. Like vandals they’d come through and laid havoc. Spray paint across the faux-walls declaring “Fags this way” and other colorful comments. Decorations were broken, lights smashed. He had a moment to realize they’d only touched the decorations and none of the actual house before the rage broke over him.

Brandon wasn’t normally an angry person. Of all his years of being a zero, none of the bullying got to him too much. So, when the rage broke, it broke hard. “Noooo!” Years of frustration and anger spilled into that word, as the house seemed to vibrate from its force. He fell hard to his knees, slouching down nearly defeated. No. He couldn’t let them win. He’d worked too hard, too long to let those assholes beat him. He began hitting the floor in a steadily growing cadence aligned in his mind with No…..no…no..no, “Nooo!” He smashed his fist into the vinyl wood grain floor and something broke over him. But it wasn’t rage this time. No, it was something new.

It was as if he could see everything at once; the front yard, the house in disarray, even himself kneeled on the ground. Then, a light bulb illuminated above his mind; he knew how to fix it. He could put it all back. Without knowing how, he reached out with his mind. He saw the front yard flow back into it’s decorated state. No, not back. Into a new state, a better one. The decorations looked real. Not just cardboard headstones, but real marble. The bones of the dead seemed to have real rotting flesh on their bones, and Brandon couldn’t be sure, but did the wings on that Gargoyle statue just flex?

The inside was next. He stood now in the eye of the storm as the house itself bent and reshaped. Decorations vanished, forgotten, as the walls themselves became the scenery. Ghouls and goblins were released from his mind to wonder the halls, waiting for their prey. Each room was transformed into a different nightmare, each door leading to a new discovery of horror. This was how he really imagined it. Not the shell mock up he had done earlier, but this. Something so near to real that anyone would be convinced they had crossed into Hell. He marveled now at what he had done, still not sure how he had done it. A smile played on his face though, as he stood unafraid in the construct of this new power.

The doorbell chiming pulled him away from his amazement. Outside, just as the sun was setting was a line of people waiting to be let in. Many more were milling around the yard, amazed by the decorations. Brandon heard one of the neighborhood kids say, “We helped put it together. Cool huh?” Brandon had to smile at that. Really they hadn’t done any of this, but he’d let them have their moment. After all, they had done a great job before it was destroyed.

Just as he was about to let the first group in, Johnny and Paul came pushing through the crowd. “What the shit is this?” Paul did not look happy.

“I told you I was having a Haunted House. You didn’t believe me?”

“But we destr—err, I mean, oh yea. I forgot.” He must have noticed Officer Brown, the neighborhood cop. “So, you gonna let us in or what?”

“Sure. Right this way.” As the door closed the people outside could hear the boys’ scream, terrifying and thrilling them at the same time. Some even got out of line, but most stayed.

Soon after, Brandon returned and began taking more groups in. Each was treated to a haunting experience that seemed to vary greatly with each individual telling. Kids experienced an almost joyful tour that left them fearful but not crying. Couples were scared into each other’s arms. The kids from Brandon’s school walked through a maze of terror reminiscent of the kinds of horrors they’d come to expect from the movies of the day. No matter what they saw, each guest exited safely at the back of the house where the kids were treated to handfuls of candy. Adults too if they wanted. All exited except Johnny and Paul that is.

All through the night people claimed they could still hear the boys screaming. That they must have ran home after getting out. How embarrassing to scream like such a little girl when you act so big and bad. No one questioned where they were, but all laughed at how they must have pissed themselves to make a noise such as that. As the night wound down and people went home, Brandon too could hear the screams of Johnny and Paul. He smiled at their terror. I guess I’ll have to let them out soon. Darn.

There was a knock at the door. Brandon hadn’t expected any more people. Time was getting short. Mom and Dad would be home soonish, but he was game to let one more group through. Waiting on the other side of the door was a man and a woman. They were dressed up like old style detectives, except the woman was more Victorian, if that makes sense. “And what are you guys supposed to be?”

The man flashed a badge and said in a friendly tone, “We’re from Sage. I’m Agent Ham, this is Special Agent Fury.”

“Um, ok. What’s Sage?” Paul screamed loud and long. The kind of scream that lets you know someone is being ripped open with a dull knife. Special Agent Fury became alert, looking past Brandon into the house, trying to see who had screamed. “Oh don’t worry about them. They’re fine. Nothing can hurt them in here. It’s only a haunted house after all.”

Agent Ham’s expression and tone never changed. “Fun’s over Brandon. Let em out. Then we have some things to discuss. Hurry too cause your parents are on their way home.” The two walked inside, pushing past Brandon, making themselves at home.

“Hey, how’d you know my name?” Brandon closed the door as the two strangers prepared to open one to a whole new world for him.

End

Adept Tales 01 "Mission 1"

2008-08-03T01:38:00.000-07:00

The wind swept deserts of Nevada could be very dangerous. The wind blew harder here sending shards of sand into Tash’s face. I must be close. She pulled out her trusty C69 Rail-Pistol and continued forward. Or at least that’s what she called it. It’s doubtful it’s ever been seen anywhere else. It was like that when you were an Adept. Everyone had their own little toy or creation. Everyone wrapped up in their own little world, and this chick really got herself wrapped up in a doozie.

Tash had been out of Sage’s training program for about 6 months now, but this was her first real assignment. That’s not too cliché. Should’ve brought Ensign Ricky to back me up. Nerves usually came out in sarcasm. Well, nerves and most emotions really. It’s not like she was green though. When she first manifested she became a vigilante of sorts in her city. That’s what drew Sage to her. At least that’s what they told her. But something about this girl she was after was different. She didn’t pop on any of the normal radar. The first Sage got wind of her at all was 3 months ago when a biker gang claimed to have come across a sand witch in the desert. The local authorities thought it was some kind of joke, but Sage makes a point of at least trying to look into any strange activity reported in Norm society, so they sent some feelers out. What they came back with is what gave Tash the wigs.

According to Sage Intel whoever was out in that dessert has never had any contact with other Adepts. It’s like some kind of Adept dead zone. Population density versus square miles or something. Tash didn’t really understand the math, but what it meant was there were no other Adepts to challenge her out here. It meant this chick, for god knows how long, has been living out in the desert, alone, with the ability to shape reality around her with no idea why she’s able to do it or anyone to mediate her. It meant Simple Sally probably has one hell of a god complex and an appetite for destruction. If the biker’s statements were any proof, this is one twisted sand bitch. Sage policy though is to at least try to rehabilitate. This was supposed to be strictly a snatch and grab operation, but somehow she doubted it.

The wind seemed to get more and more furious as she continued on. Sand slammed into her with surprising force, nearly knocking her to the ground. Fuck this. Tash activated the armor hidden under her cloths. Metal alloy of an unknown and technologically advanced origin surrounded her and left her looking like a futuristic super soldier. The sand and wind were no match. That was easy. Either she’s not that powerful or she wasn’t expecting to be resisted.

Her answer came thundering into her mind. She saw the sand grow dark and furious in front of her. A shape of a women barely on the outline moving in, then the gravel sound of sand slammed into her ears and into her mind, shouting with a voice of fury, “How dare you defy me!” Tash fell to her knees, hands to her head, C69 forgotten in the sand. The voice ripped her to shreds from the inside out. The fury of sand, shards of infant glass tearing at her soul.

In agony she managed to say in an almost inaudible whisper, “Activate sound filters.” The click and hum of advanced electronics manifested into her helmet, then silence. Free from the voice and the fury of the sand, Tash threw her self backwards, backpedaling on the ground away from the shape in the sand. It regarded her with eyes of darkness. ‘It’ now because Tash was no longer sure this was just some crazy girl. Something else was at play here. She could feel it. Almost as if the shadows heard her thoughts, the darkness began to swarm around her. Like a see of blackness it rose on all sides, blotting the desert sun already diminished from the sandstorm still in progress.

Training, reaction, finally kicked in. Flip kick back to her feet, a Turbine-X950 Super Shotgun in her hands. Click-click, Boom! A barrage of shrapnel flew into the sand figure, scattering particles of its makeshift body into the wind. Click-click, Boom! Another and another as she stepped closer and closer, each shot whittling the creature away.

Beneath the sand the shadow began to grow, filling the empty spaces with a solid void. As Tash gazed into that emptiness she began to slow. Click…Click……Boom. Her mind dissolved into that nothingness, floating toward the safety of oblivion. Just then a tiny little dot of light caught her eye and as she watched it, it grew. It began to shine brightly, illuminating the dark, and suddenly she found herself back starring at the sand-shadow beast, shotgun forgotten held loosely at her side. What happened? Oh yea! Re-energized, she blasts into the sand with renewed determination. Click-click, Boom! One after another, but this time a light surrounds each shot, shredding the darkness.

As Tash watched the darkness subside, she noticed the sandstorm begin to die down. More then that it seemed to be running from the dark. Perhaps rehabilitation isn’t out of the question. As the final shots chased away the shadows, the wind died down to a whisper, the sand parted and fell revealing a woman lying still on the ground. Tash moved cautiously forward, C69 back in her hands now instead of the sand shredder, eyes never wavering from the figure on the ground. She began to stir. ‘She’ again because whatever ‘it’ was, was gone. The face turned to Tash was sharp with dark features; sand worn and hard, but a weariness shown at the eyes. She had the look of the betrayed. Like one who was promised the world and failed to get delivery. Shocked, alone, afraid.

Gun still pointed Tash released the visor of her armor, revealing her own face. “I’m from Sage. I’m here to take you in. What’s your name?”

The woman looked up with sullen eyes, “Sandi. My name’s Sandi.”

“Will you come with me willingly Sandi?”

Sandi’s eyes began to drift up with watery abandon, face poised on the verge of collapse, but the floodgates held. She seemed to pull herself back from the edge, composed for the moment. Eyes still diverted though, looking somewhere up and to the right, but not really looking at all.

“Sandi. Will you come with me?”

Her eyes came back to Tash’s with a measuring look. In that moment Tash saw something she hadn’t expected. Intelligence, but more than that. Something on the edge of that look struck Tash as devious. As a calculated gesture of measuring the odds. Part of Sandi wanted to take the fight further. But in the end her eyes reflected their master’s surrender, “I will.”

With those two words Tash felt Sandi’s resistance slip away. It was over. The C69 went back to it’s home on her hip as she extended a hand to Sandi. As they headed back to Tash’s XJ-50 HoverCyke she began to feel better the further they got from the dead zone. Strange, because she hadn’t realized anything was wrong, but as they moved away from the scene of the battle, a sensation of dread she hadn’t realized she had began seeping away. She saw that Sandi seemed to perk up too, though she was still defeated, in more ways than one. She's going to need a lot of help, but that’s what Sage is for.

As they got to Tash’s HoverCyke the sun was just reaching the tips of the distant mountains. Well, as far as cliches go, riding off into the sunset ain’t bad. I even got the girl. Looks like mission 1 is a success. “Too bad Ensign Ricky didn’t make it.”

“What?”

“Nothing Sandi, nothing.”

End

"The" Story, Manifestation, and Adept Tales.

2008-08-03T00:27:00.000-07:00

Ever since I was about 12 years old I've been working on this one story. "The" story. My opus, my epic, my 'Dark Tower' series if you will. The details and characters have changed and grown over the years as new life experiences created new fodder for my world, ever expanding with a life of it's own. Of course, as stated in the previous post, since I lack focus, much of this story is not written down, but rather scattered through out my mind. Interestingly enough though, either because of my lacking focus or in spite of it, what was once a JR High kid's idea for a comic book has mutated into a franchise of fantasy...at least in my head. The actual implication and publication is a work in progress, this blog being one example of that.

Which brings me to the point. Of the random crap that may appear on this blog, there are two things that are certain to: Manifestation related info and my short story series Adept Tales. What are those you ask...well let me tell you.

Manifestation is a pen and paper RPG (Role-Playing Game) I created. The setting for the game is the same one as "The" story and they tie together. If you'd like to check out Manifestation you can view it here. It's only a beta version and needs more testing and some tweaking, but it's playable. The site it's hosted on can be a little screwy when trying to view. Sorry about that. Until recently you could download a .pdf version from savefile.com, but due to low activity, they took it down. When and if interest is peaked in it I'll look into hosting the .pdf again.

Adept Tales is an idea I have for a serial. It was born out of a need to create an identifiable society and culture not only for the Manifestation RPG but also for "The" story. In its present (and newly created) form it will be short stories and narratives highlighting life as a Manifest Adept. I'd like, at some point, to make them into comics or graphic novels (a hint to any artists interested). While some of the stories will intertwine and all will take place in the same 'world', each one will most likely be dramatically different from the others. Such is the nature of Adept life.

So there you have it, this blog's first official direction. I leave you now with an exert from Manifestation. This is the section that describes the basic setting and background of the world. Enjoy.

Manifest Your Reality…

All of reality in the world of Manifestation is bound together by a Spirit Web; from the smallest particle to the largest constructs. The number of possible Threads in the web is effectively infinite and a single person could be connected to millions at a time depending on their Path in life, although the average person is completely oblivious to their existence.

Saturated in and around the Spirit Web is a mysterious energy called the Shine. This powerful energy illuminates the web, allowing certain people to see the Threads connected to them. These Manifest Adepts, or just Adepts, are able to tap into those Threads, manipulate the Spirit Web, and manifest their own reality.

The Shine is not native to our world. Unbeknownst to most, our world is actually part of a Binary-Dimension; two parallel worlds interconnected. The Shine originates from our sister dimension, called Jar-Din; a world of wonder and power where people make their own destiny and create their own realities. All Adepts are descendents of these once great people. Unfortunately, where light shines, the shadow of evil lurks just below.

As there is the Shine, so is there the Shade. Locked away and forgotten about for millions of years, the Jar-Din knew next to nothing about it. When the Shade was released from its prison over 8000 years ago, it rained chaos upon both worlds. Seeking the power offered by the Shade, an Adept named Vorlok, along with his vicious Vendot minions, waged war to seize control of Jar-Din’s reality from The Body of Thorns and the Sovereign Rose. After a catastrophic war lasting thousands of years, the only way the Rose and his Thorns could devise to prevent his ascension and the destruction of both worlds was to seal the door between them, locking Vorlok and his Vendot away. Hundreds of thousands of refugees were forced to relocate to our realm.

One of those, a man named Saige, realized right away that he and his people could have a dramatic and possibly dangerous effect on the inhabitants of the Earth Realm. He, along with a small group, created the Order of the Saige as an informal police for Adepts. They quickly grew in power and influence, not only among Adepts, but also amongst the human population, as they easily infiltrated and pulled the strings of whatever ruling body was in power.

Over time, having been cut off from its source, the Shine dissipated until it was barely present in our realm at all. With its influence drained, Adepts where no longer able to see their Threads, preventing them from manipulating the Spirit Web. The Order of the Saige all but disappeared leaving only scattered remnants behind and most of the Jar-Din history was lost. Though the most powerful may have survived, most of the original refugees died off, passing their Lineage on, albeit unknown without the presence of the Shine.

Less than 100 years ago the Shine began flowing back into the Earth Realm through a small crack in the seal. Slowly the crack grew bigger and more and more of the powerful energy seeped into the world. As it did the long lost descendents of the Jar-Din began awakening to their power. A new age of Adepts was being born.

The scattered Order of the Saige quickly reinserted itself as the Adept Law. Calling themselves simply Sage, they infused their organization with that of the infrastructure of our society, masking themselves as a secret government agency. Burdened with not only monitoring Adept activity, Sage also tries to identify and contact new Adepts. They estimate that around 10% of the world’s population has some Adept Lineage, though most have so little Sage ignores them. These Low Lineage Adepts often have no idea they’re special, thinking themselves just lucky or of exceptional character. Others may believe they are psychic, practice witchcraft or even become spiritual leaders. Only about 1% of all Adepts have a Lineage high enough to fall under Sage’s jurisdiction.

The word ‘Lineage’ may seem to point to family lines, but ancestry has little to do with it. Instead Lineage is defined as an Adept's closeness to the Shine and their individual ability to see and manipulate the Threads connected to them. While it is true that some Adepts manifest their power with a high Lineage already and that it is often associated with a particular bloodline, even those that start as Low Lineage Adepts can grow to be very powerful. When Adepts manipulate the Spirit Web, even unconsciously, they grow closer to the Shine and their Lineage grows allowing them to see and manipulate the Spirit Web more easily. Over time and with enough practice, even the most pathetic of Adepts can rise to heights unknown.

Unfortunately, with the return of the Shine, the Shade has emerged as well. Even with Vorlok trapped until the gateway is fully opened, his disease of destruction and despair continues to spread with the reemergence of the terrifying Vendot. Lacking any real knowledge of the world they descend from or the enemy they face, Sage is worn thin battling this threat and is desperately trying to recruit new members. While the level of chaos continues to rise, rumors of a new Rose are beginning to emerge as well. Will this mythical figure be our salvation or our destruction? The lines are being drawn; all reality is at stake. Where will your Path take you and will you be strong enough to manifest your own reality?

Welcome to my world...

2008-08-02T23:57:00.000-07:00

I think I have the skill to be a great writer. I just lack the dedication and focus. But I figure it's like any muscle or skill; the more you do it, the stronger it becomes. So I've been making an effort to write more and I've created this blog as a place to dump some of the short stories and narratives that come out of that attempt. At this point I have no idea how much or what will actually make it on here, but it should be interesting none the less. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. If you do, tell your friends. If not, my name's moog....