Rain, rain come again...

Well, it's dark outside, it's raining, and I am looking into a computer screen with nothing else to do except go insane and write random stories. This is a short story, not really up to my standards of writing at all, but I really can't think of anything else to go with it. Oh well, give me feedback, let me know what you think, and enjoy a good cup of cocoa, or whatever you like. Also, please remember that I do commissions for anyone that wants a story done for what they need or want. Contact me and let's talk. Thanks.

Red

By Justin Thomas

Why? Why does it hurt so much? What… What did I do wrong? Nana was right, I should of listened to her, she told me that is wasn’t safe in these woods… Stupid wolf, this is all of his fault, stupid mutt, getting all horny about seeing me in my new red cloak that Nana had given me for my birthday, damn thing is torn too… Is it raining? Oh God! It is raining! Shit! I er, never mind, Nana never did like that language too much. A tree! If only the… Yes! It’s hollow, ah, that feels much better.

I look up at the sky, the clouds, are a rolling black, menacing to look at, the rain is coming down like stones thrown from Heaven. My arm feels tender and as I examine it, fresh tears sting my eyes; the bite is deeper than I thought it was, and blood still flows freely from my wound. The skin around the bite is rough and jagged, I growl in annoyance and in pain, tearing off some of my cloak from the bottom, I grit my teeth, focus, and wrap the cloth around my wound tightly, bringing with it fresh tears. Leaning back against the hollow in the tree I sniffle, wishing this was all a dream, wanting this nightmare to be no more, being on the run from a homicidal wolf that has a craving for female flesh is enough to want to scream and walk up, safe.

A distant howl makes me shiver more, wrapping my torn cloak around me, I feel a little light headed, it has to be recovering from shock, and my arm seems to hurt more. A glance tells me that my blood had already darkened my crimson wrapping. I shake my head, loosening more my long black hair, which gets in the way of my green eyes. I close them; right now I would rather hide my slender five foot, six inch frame. At a hundred and thirty pounds I was no match for that large wolf, thank God for that stick… His bushy white fur should have been my first warning that he was the one that was the danger in these woods. The second warning should have been when he started talking in that low, raspy voice of his, I guess all wolves sound like that, but I never want to find out. I should of started running, a mistake as I was curious; I never before had a wolf tell me how pretty I looked, or how good I smelled… Oh Father in Heaven, I never want to see those cunning yellow eyes ever again, please, get me out of here…

The storm is starting to get worse, my view of outside is ruined, making me even more worried about the wolf sneaking up on me. Every flash of lightning followed by the crash of thunder is doing nothing from making me fleeing from my temporary shelter. Even now, after running farther deeper into the woods, I realize with a sinking feeling that I’m lost, lost, wounded, and fearing for my life. I’m scared, I’m so scared, never wanting this in the first place, my arm is starting to ache again, I can’t sleep…

I hit my head hard against the tree, awake, cold, I suddenly realize that it’s stopped raining, everything is quiet, even the wind doesn’t make a tree shake its branches. My heart skips a beat, nothing, at least the darkness is alleviated with the half moon, my night vision barely picks out the fallen debris as I emerge from my shelter, and my breath makes itself known in the weak moonlight as I gently nurse my arm. It’s stiff, I cradle it gently as I start to walk slowly, I still feel light headed, not wanting to fall over I take smaller steps. But even as I try to walk quietly my heart jumps at every sound I make, thinking that the wolf will hear me as the wet grass and mall branches give me away. My breathing is too loud, surely the wolf will hear that, more tears flow as I shiver, and a sob nearly rents itself from my weakened body. I have to be strong, even if I don’t feel like it…

The wind starts to blow, the crisp, clean air isn’t helping me to keep warm, the breeze feels like ice when it snows, and I start to shiver harder. I stop suddenly when I hear a howl perks my ears, the hairs on my skin stand straight up.

I feel like a rabbit when it hears a predator, small, helpless, and not knowing where my doom is going to come from. I shift my gaze around me, nothing moves, nothing seems to be alive, but I know he’s out there, somewhere, I can feel his gaze on me, watching me, knowing that I can’t see him.

I sniffle as I feel really alone out here, abandoned, not even God seems to be here with me, He’s left me to die in this forest. I take a tentative, small step forward, then another, ready to run at the slightest hint that the wolf is there. But I can still feel that lofty gaze caressing my body, savoring the moment, waiting patiently, and enjoying this. I start to move faster, no clear directions on where I’m going, all I know is that I have to get out of here, far away from this evil forest, and the wolf. I silently wish that I can see my cabin, walk inside, where Nana is waiting for me, knowing that she would help me get warm, tend to my wound, and tell me that everything is going to alright, that it’s all going to be fine…

Hours seem to go by since I’ve left my hollow tree, the one place where I felt safe in these woods. It’s still quiet, not even the night animals are making any noise, what I would give to hear the owl make its call, but their all asleep, safe, and snug in their homes. I stop and lean against a tree to strengthen my weakened state. Glancing down to make sure my next step wouldn’t be in a puddle I stop, my heart freezes in my chest, my blood is like ice as I take a step backwards and fall down.

My mouth opens as I scream, and scream for my dear Nana, the one who was supposed to protect me, the one who was supposed to tell me that everything was going to fine, that this was all a nightmare. I scream for my Nana who will now never come.

I gag as I turn away from the grisly sight, her throat was ripped open, blood still seeped from her wounds sluggishly, and her insides were strewn about, seemingly like in celebration. Her lantern was broken, thrown against a tree as I look again, not wanting to believe that my Nana is dead. Her eyes are wide and glassy, her mouth opened to let out a scream that will now never be uttered, forever in a state of surprise and terror. The wolf was here… He had killed her… I start sobbing uncontrollably, not caring if I was killed right then and there, my mind unwilling to comprehend what it was seeing… My Nana, dead… No! No! No! This can’t be right! I turn away as I vomit from not being able to breathe, my tears blinding me as I wipe them away, and shiver more as I hear soft laughter…

“My, my, I see you found my present, a shame though, she didn’t even fight back at all. Maybe it was because I scared her stiff.” The wolf said as he appeared from the shadows and laid next to her corpse, and nuzzled her head gently, licking her wound tenderly, mocking me with his show of power. His tail wagged as he watched me, amused at my reaction with disgust and horror. I tried to speak, but a fresh sob escaped me, he continued to watch, seeming to smile at my plight. “Now, now, my darling Red.” He chuckled as he got up and got closer. “Even if you weren’t injured, or cold, I could still outrun you, that branch hurt, and I always get my revenge.” He growled in my ear, my shivering increased as I knew this was it, I was going to die right here, I closed my eyes waiting to die. I could feel his fur brush against me as he circled me slowly, and I nearly cried out as I felt his hot breath against my cheek.

“P-Please.” I whisper as I cry more, shaking with terror as I felt him nip my neck. “Ohh.” He cooed. “Is my little Red scared?” I nod as I open my eyes, staring back into his merciless yellow ones. “Good.” With that he pushed me forward onto my back, knocking some of the air out of my body and into the face of my dead Nana. I couldn’t help but scream in terror as I felt his hot breath on the back of my neck, and his teeth tearing into my flesh.

My consciousness began to fade as I managed to hear a crunching sound, all my pain, and sadness leaving me. A faint smile crossed my face, as I was now free, free from my cage of life.

One month left...

I think it is really interesting that life, is more important death, I think it should the other way around. But that's just me, and if you really met me, you would know that I am kidding. I guess things work out one way or another, I have another chapter done, October, my favorite month is coming... Hmmm... I wonder if I should have this long and somehow curios story done by then? I don't really know?

Chapter Four

“I have never killed a man, but I have read many obituaries with great pleasure.”

Clarence Darrow

I’m not sure, when I opened my eyes again, everything was blurry, and a man was gently shaking my shoulder. “Hey Doc, you okay?” I groaned in pain as my neck was at an odd angle and it hurt when I pushed up on rubbery arms. “Come on Doc, you know how John gets when you fall asleep.” I smiled when he mentioned my bosses name; Paul Harvey sure knew how to make me watch my toes. I sat up from off the desk, and looked around, everything was as it should have been, no blood, no missing bodies, and no crazed, serial killer with a meat cleaver wanting my head.

I yawned and stood, stretching and testing my aching body that had been cuddling the hard desk in the office area. “Sorry Paul, must of dozed off…” “It’s alright, happens to me when things are slower than usual.” I nodded, feeling sympathetic towards those slow nights when there was nothing to do but wait. He had a gurney with him, which was why he was down here in the basement waking me up. “Who did you bring in?” I inquired, even after that mad dream, I still was curious how people died, not how I would die mind you, but it would be helpful to someone in the future.

Paul took a look at the sheet and grimaced with pain, his arthritis must have been acting up again, poor guy. “Jason Mcreedy, the young man at the gas station off of Main and Fifth, death was at approximately 11:15 P.M. A young lady had found him dead, leaning against the counter. Cause of death, we don’t know, which was why we came to you.” I frowned, Jason was always such a good-natured kid, if he died, which was tragic, what did he die of?

“Thank you Paul.” I said simply as I wrote on the paper signing the release of his corpse to the hospital and me. He nodded and sighed. “Tell me what you find out alright? His family is going to be devastated, told me last week when I stopped in that his sister was getting married.” Life, and death, was the ying and yang of our lives, once you were born, your life would always lead to death, one way or another. What I didn’t know was that my life would end this night, the same as Jason Mcreedy, who found his rest before his time was supposed to be up.

When Paul left I looked down at the gurney and sighed, this was one of the worst parts of the job. A friend or even a loved one that would show up in her Morgue made her sick, the first time it had been an old boyfriend from High school. She had thrown up when she cut open his chest, the teacher had sighed but didn’t yell at her, she was later told that was a normal response for first time students. She didn’t tell him that she had loved him, but it didn’t matter, not after that, she kept a straight face, and did her work with a grim outlook on life.

The sheet that uncovered the body of Jason, however, made her almost cry out with fear and wonder. A normal corpse, freshly dead still retained some color, with slight discoloration, the lips would still be red, but tinged with a light blue. She got closer, placed a hand on his cheek, and jumped back with a shiver that ran down her spin. Whatever had happened to Jason, he had been subject to a cold death. His skin was as white as fresh fallen snow, his flesh did not retain any residual heat, and his lips were the darkest blue she had ever seen, This did call for an investigation…

While she went to get her tools, the stainless steel doors that housed the dead changed to a Scarlet color, a young girl, with black hair and a torn white gown appeared. She looked around, and smiled, malice and anger appeared in her steel grey eyes, a man had called her, but failing to find the source, she found the next best thing, a woman in a white lab coat that played with the dead. But before Casey had returned, she disappeared, waiting for the right time to play with her prey.

I felt the room grow suddenly colder, and I swore that for just a moment, I could see my breath. I shook my head, and everything was the same again. I must have been more tired than I thought as a yawn was stifled. ‘Maybe I should of asked for the day shift, and be able to sleep at night, it would be nice to be in my bed.’ The thought came to me, and I yawned again but didn’t try to abate it. My neck began to hurt again, ‘damn dreams and their ability to seem so real,’ I cursed silently, if this night could get any worse, I couldn’t see it.

“Subjects name is Jason Mcreedy, sex, male, height about five foot seven, weight about one hundred and eighty pounds. Subject announced dead at approximately eleven O’clock P.M. on ten, twenty-eight two thousand and twelve. Hair is a dark red, no lacerations located on the body, and no birthmark sighted.”

I sighed as I clicked off the tape recorder, of all the people, it had to be Jason. I knew him less, only talking to him when I went to buy something at night, and as far as I could tell, he was a sweet kid. A little silly with the jokes he told me, but as gentle as a butterfly. Mustering up the strength to see what had killed him, I tried to take a blood sample but instead of slow moving blood, I got nothing, absolutely nothing out of him. Growling in annoyance slightly I cut open a small portion of his wrist, red ice crystals fell out instead of what I expected, and they quickly began to melt into a small puddle of red blood.

Curious as to what had happened I quickly put some of the crystals in a small vial and put them in the freezer in the back. And returned to find that the blood, and ice had simply vanished, nothing, no blood puddle, and no ice crystals. Nothing this night was making sense, not the dream or Jason being frozen solid, or the people yelling, I whimpered in my tiredness, as if God himself was laughing at my misfortunes.

I took a step back with fright as Jason’s corpse sat up suddenly and turned his head, I think I screamed as I felt like my heart was going to burst. Nothing else happened, I waited a few minutes, and cautiously took a step forward and held my breath, I was losing it, the body was going through Rigor Mortis, and I mistook it that he was still alive. I gently pushed him back down and wheeled him to his locker and transferred him from the stretcher to the cold metal table, pushed him into the meat locker and shut the small door behind the body.

I leaned against the stretcher and rubbed my temples, I silently wished that tonight was going to get better, that nothing else would go wrong. How foolish I was being, the truth was right in front of me but I refused to see it, my life would be distinguished in front of my eyes, and as my body would be lifted up and drained with my throat slashed, my last thoughts would be of my husband, and my cat…

I yawned again, I needed to stop being so negative, things would not end like that, I wondered if I was going crazy. Yeah, that would be a nice step in a new direction, insanity from whatever was going on.  Looking around, and noticing that I had nothing to do now, besides rack my head for answers to questions I had no knowledge of. A quick walk would do me some good, to clear myself of the heaviness that seemed to have invaded my morgue and my senses.

Ow... My head...

Okay, I know that it has been awhile, been dealing with how life works, or doesn't want to work on my part. But I have something pretty cool and hopefully exciting for you all. I have just recently gotten done on a fanfic of a Indie game that is called Dream of the Bloodmoon. Now, the creator of the game, who goes by CubeHero is a pretty cool guy, and actually liked it when I sent him the finished version of what I wrote. With that being said, here is a new story in which I actually had fun writing, my friends, and readers I present to you, my work.





I don't really remember much from when I was little, in fact, all I do remember is a fire, or what should've been a fire. My memory isn't what it used to be, I've been here for so long...

I use to have a name, Annabelle, I think it was, I don't really remember, I try to wiggle my hands and my feet, but I still feel nothing, nothing in this pitch darkness that is my prison. A low moan escapes my lips as I fall again to unconsciousness, the nightmares, always come. 

A fire, it raged in my parents mansion, I don't remember much about it, except that I remember a woman standing over me before it began, I was three at the time, in my little white nightgown, she had a white face, and it looked like a mask, all I saw was two large black eyes, and then she was gone. I remember crying as the fire soon started, after that I blacked out, the men of the town had seen the large blaze start up and had rushed a fire brigade to try and stop the fire from spreading. It was too late by then, I was told that I had been found standing in the front door, watching the flames and crying because the smoke had gotten into my eyes.

I was only three, I didn't know what was going on, I only wanted to be held, and loved, and I felt so cold, as I rescued by the men in the fire brigade, I saw the lady with the white mask in one of the top story windows, she was staring at me, and I stared back, tears staining my cheeks as I was carried someplace safe. The lady in the white mask soon disappeared from the window where I had been staring, as I remember nothing else after that. I had awoken in a top bunk with a bunch of other kids in the large area, a scary looking old woman, was rousing us up gently, just because she looked scary doesn't mean she wasn't, in fact, for the few weeks that I was in the orphanage she was kind and very loving. All I remember is bits and pieces of my aunt and uncle coming and claiming me. I was never told what happened to my parents when I asked, I was always told, that they were in a better place. 

As I grew up I found that many of the children in the school that I was attending didn't want to be my friend, I was seven, what did I care about some rotten girls that giggled and ran away when I approached them? Four years had passed since the death of my parents, of the burning of my home, my aunt and uncle were very kind to me, they didn't live in a mansion but were well off still the same. The woman in the mask is still here though, she just seems to stare at me from across the woods or on the other side of the playground where I would just sit and look at all of the kids play. No one else seemed to see here, and for some reason, this didn't really bother me, I was a seven year old girl that just wanted to be by herself, the dress she wore was blue, but for some reason, it was stained with red, the red on her dress was a dark color, closer to scarlet I think. Nothing about her seemed to be scary, well except one thing, her fingers, her fingers were really long, and well, they looked pointed. They looked like they hurt, but, I was young, I didn't know, I just didn't know...

I awoke from my nightmare as I opened both eyes, this forest was still the same, nothing changed, but the moon, and fog, they seem to get redder, I wonder if she has claimed my friend that I reached out to see if he could help me? The wind ripples my red hair out of my face, and I see her staring at me again. I feel nothing but pain and sadness as she stares at me, no anger, that has died long ago. I know it was her; she did those things, not me... But why? I always asked why.

Why was she allowing me to go through this? Wasn't she supposed to be my friend? I thought she was my friend. That was until later, when I saw her kill... No... I don't want to think about it as a scream echoes from the surrounding forest and then nothing. She won again, preventing me from escaping this Hell that I have been placed, is she enjoying the suffering that I go through? Or does she kill them because she wants to? Is it because she feeds from the fear that she produces and I am her bait? I don't want to know anymore...

Tears escape from my eyes again; memories of a happier time rise up, and along those happier times, remorse, sadness, grief… I sniffle as I fall asleep again, transported to a place of long ago, of things that I wish I could take back and redo.

It was a few years later, the woman was no longer seen, and I was somewhat grateful for that. The sky on that day was dark; rain clouds were gathering as I was walking home from school, a black cat was mewing softly as I passed by. Smiling I reached down and began to pet the cat, its fur was slightly wet to the touch, and it purred as I scratched behind its ears gently. What a cute cat it was, and after picking it up, decided to name him Hero, he purred as I whispered the new name in his ear and was dozing as I walked home.

When I walked through the door, my Uncle was the first person to see my new pet and was madder then I had ever seen him. “Get rid of the thing! It will bring evil upon this home!” He yelled as I backed up, my breath quickening, and I ran back out the door, my Uncle still yelling at me to not return with the cat. I cried as I ran into the nearby forest, dodging trees and roots in process. I ran until I could no longer move, by this time Hero was mewing softly, seemingly scared about what had just happened. By this time, it started to rain, fat drops of water hit me without mercy and I just stood there, my head down, trying to keep Hero from getting wet.

Would this black cat really bring disaster and evil upon those that came across it? Were people still so superstitious about things they didn’t understand? I began to walk slowly further into the woods, thinking about such things when I noticed an old home. It was entirely wooden, and the windows were broken but the roof appeared whole. I ran to it and was soon inside, the whole cabin was a single room but it was nice and spacious and a relief from the thickening rain that decided to fall. I put Hero down and began to scavenge for anything that would dry me off, after a fruitless search for half an hour I pulled up some of the wooden boards and to my surprise found a flint and stone.

Overjoyed with what I had found I put the broken boards into the stone fireplace and began to strike the flint and stone at the dry wood. It caught a small blaze and I stared at the fire as it took hold and began to eat what it could find. Pulling up more boards from what I could find I soon had a nice blaze, my clothes were drying near the fire as I stroked Hero who was curled up for warmth.

Looking outside I could see that the rain clouds had grown darker, and I didn’t really know where I was, but I was warm, and safe for the time being. Putting my head down on my dry dress that I folded up to sleep on I had soon fallen asleep, feeling, and happy for the first time. The night passed quickly and I woke up with Hero nuzzling my cheek, getting up and getting dressed I looked around, even though I was dry, the chill morning air was refreshing as it was cold. Hero was chasing a bug around, and my stomach growled a little, blushing I realized that I was hungry. Turning around I looked at my cat and shook my finger at him. “You stay here now, okay? I’ll be back later.”

Hero, to my surprise shook his head at me as if he understood what I was telling him, curios but hungry I walked away from my shelter and wandered back to my Uncles home. It had taken me a few hours to get back, but when I did I was met with a grim look from my Uncle, and a saddened look from my Aunt. “Annabelle, where is your demon creature?” He asked me. “I, um, I let her go…” “You should have drowned the nasty thing in the river.” I didn’t respond as he took out a switch from behind his back that he had been hiding. I took a step back.

“Please…” I whispered as my Aunt looked away, Uncle grabbed my arm and dragged me outside to the shed. He threw me onto my stomach on a small wooden table and strapped my wrists with the rope. Opening my dress I heard him take a deep breathe. “Lord, forgive her for her sins.” A sharp pain raced through me as he began to beat me with the branch, I cried and pleaded for him to stop, when he did I was crying softly, my back felt sore and each breath hurt. I waited for him to unstrap me from the table, but he didn’t, instead I heard the sound of cloth moving around. “Annabelle…” He growled in my ear, and hit me hard in the back of the head, I blacked out, and remembered nothing after that.

When I awoke, I was lying on my stomach, my wounds were being attended to by a servant, and she was humming a soft tune that I could not place. What was curious as well was that my back was not the only thing that ached, but in-between my legs, but not as much. I closed my eyes again as I figured what Uncle had down to me, but I was too scared to say anything about it, fresh tears sprung up as I fell into a deep sleep once again, waking up now and then for food and the bathroom.

A couple of week had passed, and I could sit down gently, and even feed myself, a great plus as I was getting tired of being spoon feed. My Uncle only visited me once and I cringed as he inspected my wounds, nodded and left, leaving me feeling, oddly dirty. A couple of days later after he came to visit me I was looking out the window, combing my hair, when I noticed her again. The lady in the mask, I could see that she was staring at me with those soulless black eyes, and for the first time, in a long time I felt frightened, not just scared, but terrified, of this woman.

I closed my eyes, then opened them, she was still there, slightly closer, but it was just as I remembered it. She would just stare at me, and for hours on end, I soon grew tired of being stared at, and for a second, I imagined going out there and yelling at her to leave me alone. To go away, to stop making me question what I thought was real, that all I wanted was just a normal life…

Years passed by and the normal life I wanted didn’t appear, it only got worse, but for a season, things were, happier than I had been. When I was older I moved out of my Uncles house, bitterness was inside of me at him for what he had done, but I kept it inside of me. My Aunt wished me well, I wish I could of said something to her, I wish she would have been there for me instead of looking the other way. I had guessed long ago that Uncle had broken her, and that she could not help, even if she wanted to, she had my pity, but that was all that I could muster for her.

I broke into a run as I ran into the forest, to my new home that I had secretly kept from the knowledge of my relatives, or anyone, I really didn’t trust people anymore. Hero was waiting for me on the porch that I had built, he was bigger now, instead of the cute kitty that he had been, but just as wise as when I first met him. Since I was older now, I looked for a modest job where I could earn some money, I found the local Apothecary needing someone to go out and find plants for medicine. I volunteered my services and was told to come in once a week to see what was needed. The job wasn’t as hard as I thought as I dried the necessary plants and weeds that were used for curing the sick and diseased.

This was when I caught the fancy of a soldier; he stank and always hung around the town when I came around to deliver my plants and collect my pay. “Hey there lovely lady, why don’t you come with me, I can show you many things.” He ran his fingers through my hair as I was paid, my employer, an elderly man that had to squint to see to give me my pay and handed me a list of what he wanted. He didn’t seem to notice the soldier, or see him very well with what he was doing. “Have a nice day Anna.” He smiled and waved as I left as fast as I could to get away from this diseased man and his filthy hands. “Hold on their love, you haven’t even told me your name.” I turned around and held a pointed tool at him, glaring into his eyes I smirked at his cowardice. “My name is none of your concern, and you will leave me alone or else I will plunge this into your black heart!” I hissed as I spun around and ran off.

I could hear him yelling obscenities at my back but I was free from him for another week, I even took several detours to make sure that anyone that was following would get lost. Arriving late at night I was greeted by Hero who was mewing at me impatiently to give him something to eat. I rolled my eyes and grabbed the dead rabbit out of my bag that I had found in my snare on the way home. He jumped at it and I laughed as I cut it the carcass in half, plucked off the coarse fur and prepared my meal for the night.

After cooking for a couple of hours I sat back and grabbed a bowl to eat, looking around my cabin as I did, I noticed the lady in the mask again. I was no longer afraid; I knew later that this was my mistake, but for now I felt that she was somehow, a guardian, but she only appeared when I was angry and mad, especially when my thoughts were, darker then they should be. I went to bed that night, angry at my Uncle and my Aunt, the filthy soldier, and those people that I had met during my growing up…

Groaning I woke up, my arms paining me, the red color that was there before, was gone and the somewhat serene scene of fog and a full moon was back to normal. Or, as normal as it could get in this world, I had figured out that I was neither in Heaven or Hell, but, what could be described as a prison. A prison of my own fears, hates, and a dying hope whenever I managed to reach out to someone to see if they could help me; sobs racked my thin frame as I heard her come again, staring at me, watching me, my own… Wait… I should probably tell the rest of my story before I lose myself for the last time…

It had been a few weeks since that diseased soldier had tried to touch me; I had seen him around, usually drunk and with other soldiers that could be his friends. The townspeople seemed more suspicious than usual when I came to deliver the plants to the Apothecary. They avoided me when I came in, hearing random whispers of me being a Witch… But I only attributed this to me having red hair, and green eyes when theirs was brown or black, and sometimes a yellow color. If only I had seen this in time, perhaps, things could have been different…

After getting paid, I looked around for the drunken soldier and his friends, and strangely, could not find him. I shrugged my shoulders and finally thought that he had learned his lesson about running after strange women. How wrong I was, it was only after nightfall when I came home and was cooking my meal of rabbit stew that I heard yelling. Now out here, basically in the middle of the forest I never saw too many people, usually just a trader or a hunter.

But, more than one person was, strange, I got up from my chair and looked down to see Hero, hissing and yowling at the torch lights that were getting closer. Concerned, I had misheard them yelling Witch, since they were still a distance away and thought that they were looking for someone who had gone missing. The irony, I had only wanted to help, to see what I could do, but those same soldiers were coming. The one on the lead horse was the same soldier that I had promised that I would stab in the heart. “There she is! Grab the heretic Witch!” Me!? A Witch!? Since when!? Anger flared through me as I was tired of getting the short end of the stick, of being accused of a harlot, and a prostitute, damn them and their hatred!

That was when I saw her, she screamed as she appeared before the soldiers and the horses, spooked by the sudden appearance of her, kicked off the riders and fled in terror. My so called executioners were scared as well, but I can only guess that drink had given them liquid courage. Pulling their swords, two of them branded their swords, keeping her busy. While the other three ran towards me, I was suddenly afraid of what they might do so I ran towards my home. The darkness swirled around me and I cried out when my leg was hooked by an upturned root and I hit the ground with a hard crash and pain shooting up and down my ankle.

I looked up as I tried to unhook my ankle, and saw that filthy man, grinning at me like when he tried to touch me before. Tears fell down into the dirt as I was hurt, but my pride would not let me bow before such a creature. He grabbed my hair, forcing a thin scream of pain from me as he looked down at me with such hard eyes that I am sure that a lesser person would of flinched. It was then that I heard hissing and yowling come toward us. “Hero!” I yelled at my cat. “Run!” He didn’t listen and instead jumped at one of man with I’m sure with all the rage he could muster. 

“Damn demon!” The man growled and with a downward stroke from his sword, cut Hero in half. I cried out as my companion, my friend, was killed, tears blinded my vision as the cruel men laughed at me. The lady in the mask disappeared and soon all five had surrounded me, grinning at having bested a Witch. Pulling me up by my hair I tried to claw at his eyes, when my arms were then grabbed and my dress was ripped off, their armor began to come off and I didn’t care what happened to me anymore. I just couldn’t, after seeing Hero killed, all fight left me. After they had their fun, using me for several hours and seeding me, I was soon cleansed with cold water, put roughly in a white dress, and bound to a tree.

I closed my eyes as their smell was still on me, my red hair soiled with their seed and spit, I don’t know how long I was bound, but it was the darkest part of the night when I regained some of my anger back. It was then that I was unbound from the tree and put on the horse with the lead soldier, I had heard his name when he was using me, one of the other soldiers wanting his turn had called out. “Hey Abraham, come on already, some of us haven’t felt a woman in a few months!” Laughter followed after that, but now, he was grim faced, not even looking at me as he held me in front of him. Abraham, what a disgusting name for this pig of a man, I would never forgive him.

We rode for what seemed like another hour, and came to a large clearing; in the middle of it was a large tree, with lit torches all around it. I was amazed that such a large tree still stood, and for a second I could only imagine what it would be like to sleep in its shade. I was then taken off the horse and forced onto my knees in front of a man that had been staying in the shadows. His robes were that of the local church and in his hands he held what I could only think was a Bible. The elderly priest looked down at me with such malice and hatred that I felt fear… “You, Annabelle Margaret Blackwood, have been declared a Witch! For your sins against God and his Holy Soldiers you shall be crucified as our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ was! Will you repent for your godless acts before we, the righteous and holy carry out the punishment you so deserve?”

I spat at his feet, if their god was like this, I would rather die than repent for anything that I had ever done wrong. “Never!” I hissed, causing this priest to take a step back. “Wench… Crucify her!” He commanded his solders and they laughed at my struggling, I was lunged up a ladder and it took all three men to hold me as the first nail was driven through my wrist. Pain, bright and blinding went through and I gasped, then began to scream, soon begging for this to all stop. After the second nail was driven though, I threw back and head and howled for my guardian to help me.

But nothing, she didn’t appear, not at first anyways, it was only after my legs were crucified together and the men down below were mocking me was that I heard her. She screamed, and they looked around, nervously, looking to see where the sound had came from. I smirked, and didn’t care any longer what had happened to me, I had called, and She had answered. “Pain… You will all feel pain!” I yelled at them, and at that instant, the air felt thick, and warm almost as if it was alive. Thick fog began to surround the forest and the full moon that was out turned into a blood red, laughing at their screams of terror I could see her come close.

And that was then that I knew, she was part of me now, I had given her permission to somehow come into this world. The soldiers and the priest were torn to shreds as She chased after them, one by one I could see and feel what ran through them as She killed each one, slowly, and hungrily. After this display of her power I saw her disappear, but I could feel her still, nearby.

Years passed since this and I remained on the tree, my pain, anger, hatred, turned into sorrow, despair, regret. This is why I have called you here, to have you help me be freed from this prison, please, I need you to collect my tears, my regrets in life, but be careful, she is always looking for her next victim, and you only get three chances before I can no longer protect you…

Welcome to my world

Good morning, noon, evening, afternoon or night, or whatever time you happen to be awake reading this, not that I really care. I know that people are waiting for my fourth chapter, and again, it's not going to be likely that it's going to come out any time soon. In the mean time Raven, my good, and somewhat weird friend keeps writing. Seriously though, I don't know where he gets his creativity, mine ebbs, and then floods, and I write several stories at once, and than quit. Why? I really don't know, I guess it's because I would rather eat a live mouse than continue something I know wouldn't be interesting to most people. This is my world, a world of fire, mayhem, Halloween, and random stories of almost anything. Please enjoy Raven's next story, or something, his notes make more sense than my pointless rambling. And friends, remember, read in the dark it helps your eyes to grow stronger. ^.^

Authors notes on

Death of a Guardsmen

Hello my friends, its me Blood Raven. But please refer to me as Blood, or Raven. All my friends do. Anyways I hope you enjoyed my story of Death of a Guardsmen. Now you may be wondering why you are reading this before my next story, “Unsung Heroes” And soon you will see. You see Death of a Guardsmen was exposed to be the name of the first chapter on my book. But due to a bit of a error on my part Stray put it as the name of my story. Now I didn't want to be a bother and seeing that the intro would take me a while I decided to make it its own short story. I enjoyed writing the story and getting it into full swing now as I made the next section. I wanted to also show others my little fantasy nexus of worlds. You will soon be introduced to a form of nexus of all the little worlds of literature, video games, books, movies and my own little creations. If I tried to make money off of this I would be sued up the wazoo. But I take my inspiration from them all and I hope you will enjoy my new story set in world war 2, and a few other settings, “Unsung Heroes.”

Unsung Heroes

By Blood Raven 117

Chapter one, The glory of the Unnamed 

   Larnegin was sweating hard. His heart beat like a marching drum on a  parade ground. He heard nothing and only saw ahead of him, at the other end of the ring. Standing there, with his boxing gloves on tight Janeson smiled cockily as he moved his wrist in a insult to him, trying to get him attack. Larnegin didn't budge. Sound was still gone, then like the waves of Vernesta when under them and suddenly ringing out he heard the cheers, the whoops, the sounds of machines working, the sounds of man, woman, and alien working and keeping in peak physical condition.

   All around him Larnegin saw the gathered 10th company of the 10th Vernestan Marines, and a few of the Drill Instructors and Staff Sergeants. Janeson had suggested a nice public match. The two had been practicing their new fighting styles they had been learning, Krav Magra some called it, others MMA, a few just said pain. The gloves were just so they didn't punch in one anothers face. Around them who surrounded him, Larnegin saw Caref, Jard in his “Skinned” or human form. He also saw Larky, Lunie, all of them. He smiled, “What? You getting cocky now?” Janeson asked as they circled the arena.

   At the other end of the training room, he saw other beings. A few tall as a space marine, but distinctly different, were lifting weights, talking, or exercising in other ways. Further along the giant circular room, he saw a grouping of Half Breeds, daemonhosts. They assorted themselves, from the four chaos gods. Larnegin had learned much in his time here about both those groups. The first, the tall humans, were something called Spartans. Specifically a mix of Spartan II's, III's, and even a few dozen Spartan V's. The spartan V's may as well have been space marines, so heavily armored and armed, drawn from the finest men and woman humanities many dimension's had to offer. The Half Breeds on the other hand, were almost opposite, shorter, many varied, some lanky dirty and sick, others bright red like blood and bearing charms, others more emphasized on their appearance, both sick to look at but irresistible to take your eyes away. And finally the more older, wizened looking ones, obviously crackling with contained psychic energy.

   As they kept circling Larnegin saw more, Engineers of the supposed Quarians assisted by Huragoks, or more simply called Engineers, working on the machines of the base. More he saw, Eldar, Tau, Sangheli's, Special operations troops, Space Marines, Sisters of Battle even. Even more he saw storm troopers, Kedesians, Anthropomorphic animal human hybrids of all shapes and sizes, and the best of the best; they looked like a mix of several things, they were about 6'6 feet tall average, they wore skin tight jumpsuits with either camo arrangements, or bright orange. They had hooks, clips, and other pockets and such for equipment. They all wore standard issue combat boots. Some had long hair, or had sheared theirs off. The most visible thing about them was their mask, they all wore a mask that looked a lot like the Quarian's mask, but no tube connections. All of them had thick banks of mist or fog covering their features. Some said that they wear those masks because they will lose their soul if they don't. He didn't think that, but he did admit, they looked menacing. He didn't even know what the Unnamed called them, fitting he thought to himself.

   Then Janeson did his action. Lunging forward he punched for his gut. Larnegin sidestepped, made a counter move to Janeson's face. He ducked down and then tried to sweep Larn's feet from under him. Larn toppled, Janeson descended to make the final blow and pin him. Larn rolled away and Janeson was now off balance. Larn swiped Janeson's legs now and he fell on his face. Larnegin jumped back up immediately. The cheers surrounding them were deafening, like a solid tidal wave of sound, like the Basilisks firing and the triple A bunker being annihilated. Janeson tried to roll away himself, but was stopped as Larnegin fell on him when Janeson was face up. Punching him in the face, keeping his body pinned by his own weight. Janeson blocked with his forearms and then suddenly pushed forward with them like a riot shield almost. Pushing him off they tried to pin each other quickly, Janeson got behind Larnegin and then held him in a headlock. Larn slipped free, being drenched in sweat. Hitting Janeson in the face he knocked his head sideways. Then he kept punching, now on top, focusing himself on just trying to send the other man to unconsciousness. Janeson had no room to block. He was done for and tapped out. The arena's bell rang and there were boos and cheers.

   “That was the sorriest match I have yet seen!” A man pushed his way onto the rink. Janeson and Larnegin jumped up to attention to the tall and muscled man. He cuffed them both on their padded helmets. “What do you have to say you two?” Janeson and Larnegin both looked up to him and said, “We'll train harder Staff Sergeant!” He looked at them both and with arms crossed nodded, “Damn right.” He said to them. “Go to the showers boys.” They both saluted and left the arena to their new supervising officer Staff Sergeant Indrein Johnson. Leaving the arena Larnegin saw the men around him mosh him and congratulate him loudly. Leaving the crowd he met with Janeson at the locker room's entrance.

   A Kedeshian was leaning against the wall next to the door. She had a desk mask up, on the top of her head. Her forearms branded with crosses. She sported long canine fangs like the saber cats of the plains on Vernesta. She smiled at him her K9's almost over sized it seemed, “Saw you and your friend on the rink.” She said jerking her head in the direction of the arena, now occupied by a pair of Sangheli  warriors sparring with wooden swords, the 10th company dispersed to their de facto section of the gym. All in synchronized workout by the Staff Sergeant counting as he did push ups on a raised podium to make sure every one did them right.

   Larnegin nodded and looking to her she went on, “You did pretty good for a beginner, you and your friend there.” Her smiled disappeared, “Names Jackeline. Everyone calls me Jacky.” She extended her large hand out for him to shake. Jacky was a prime and fit specimen of the Kedeshian race. They were once human, and in a way still are, but ravaged by a horrible disease that raised their dead into zombies, they became infected and began to change and evolve. Eventually they realized they were changing, which was when they found the cure to the disease they all carried. After some debate among their leadership, instead of using the cure, they modified it into the next step of their development.

   They had gotten bigger, stronger, smarter, and their bodies more efficient. And instead of cleansing themselves of the disease that made them like this, they used it, and made it better, making N5, the next step from N4, the disease that made the undead. Using it they got even better. Their race also had developed mutations depending on the environment, some had gills, others scales, and even the rare ones had the ability to blend into their environment with their chameleon like skin.

   Larnegin took her hand in his, surprised that she offered to shake in the first place. Her hand was about 1.5 times larger then his. She was around 9 feet tall, towering over him. “My name's Larnegin.” Smiling at her she was intimidating but he had nothing to worry about. She smirked, “See you later kid.” Larnegin looked at her confused, “So you just say 'Hi' Then leave?” She kept walking and ignored him. Shaking his head he smiled at Janeson, “Who was that?” He asked taking his helmet off. Larnegin just shrugged.

   The locker room was mostly empty, a few other guardsmen and woman was dressing or changing. Larnegin went to his locker and opened it. Putting his gear in it he got a towel. Moving to a stall he turned on the shower. He enjoyed the cool water for a moment until he felt a electrical charge behind his right ear. Grabbing the part he opened his mouth in pain no sound's escaping.

Christmas sucks...

Well, this is the month of December, snow, hot chocolate, more snow, and it all bites. To people that have been waiting, I'm sorry, never been good with keeping schedules, ever since I was a little kid, was always late with homework, or forgot to do it, or just both. >///> Anyways, I thought, you know what, I've been bugged by my good friend Raven to post the rest of his chapters, and me, I'm still working on Ch. 4... Don't judge me, I have a horrible memory and creative drive. >.<"  So, what does this have to do with Christmas? Nothing, except we should be celebrating Halloween again, but dressed up all better..ish. And hand out random presents instead of candy, kids would be stoked for that one, I can tell ya that. But, I will give you chapters three and four plus something a little extra, all raw, without me going over that atrocious spelling...I give you... Death of a Guardsmen! Enjoy, and I should come out with the fourth chapter soon...I think.

Chapter III 

Death of a Guardsmen

   Larnegin wondered what poor souls were fighting in the next trench section. Looking out he felt the mud and blood on him drying as he saw the great exchanges of fire. It was madness out there, even as the imperials were slowly forced back they took and gave a heavy toll. Looking around the entire 7th company of the Vernesta Marines waited patiently. In five minutes the rest of the men had formed up taking the trench. But they couldn't stay here, when the mutants realized they were breached they will both bomb the section and send in reinforcements.

   Caref yelled for Larnegin, turning on his heels more smartly then he would have liked himself to do he walked up with his head lower. “Yes sarge?” He said as he drew close. Jard was nearby helping a corpsmen patch up a wounded man and then saw them off as they carried about a dozen men back, hiding in no man's land. Larnegin almost wished he was injured, but fate was not so kind. Caref now spoke after checking his map, “Larnegin, listen. You know what were after right?” Larnegin nodded. He payed attention despite his sleep drained brain during the short briefing.

   Caref nodded, “The AA cannons are just about five miles past their lines, out of our range of our main guns. We can't use any orbital fire or even our longer ranged arty because of the bunkers they hold the guns in.” Larnegin nodded, knowing why they hadn't just blasted the guns already. They had tube charges and D9 explosive putty. With those they could blow the guns and get out alive for the most part.

   Jard joined the pair and smiling said, “Correct. Unfortunately though we will be hard pressed to get this many men in that far without getting seen.” Larnegin nodded, “Too bad we don't have some guys like the Tanith or maybe a scout regiment like the Catachen 945th. Caref nodded, “Too bad indeed. But we make do. Larnegin, get me at least 10 shotguns, Jard mind getting the scouts together as a vanguard?” Jard smiled, “My pleasure.” Larnegin stood at attention and saluted, “Yes sir.” Setting off he called up Janeson and another Vernestan named Larky, “Hey guys. I'm seconding you to help me find some shotguns.”

   Larky was a Ratling. A halfling. A midget. He held his standard sniper pattarn lasgun, wearing a smaller version of the standard Vernestan battle dress, and he was a notorious crook and gambler. But he always returned what he stole. Usually. He was also a black market weapon dealer and he had a pack on his back carrying “Supplies”. Larky looked up and frowned, “Awww no! No, no, no, no, no, no. Not my shotguns!” Larnegin crossed his arms and frowned himself, “Unless you can get about ten more from the troops around and give them a lasgun I'm afraid so.” Larky grumbled and sighing heavily made up his mind, “Fine, but you better reimburse me when this is all over. I better get every last one back!” Larnegin nodded, extending his hand he said to the Ratling smiling, “Deal.” Taking the handshake they had a deal. With that bit of business done Janeson began to help find some shotguns as well, while Larky went through his stash pulling out a pair of cut down shotguns from his bag of merchandise.

   The vanguard, now equipped with shotguns, began to creep forward from the mutant front. Each wore a camo cloak and skillfully moved forward unnoticed. Jard had elected to go with the vanguard, believing it was fitting that he should lead from the front in case it all went sideways. Larnegin was just happy Jard didn't “Volunteer” himself into that mess. Shaking his head Larngein began to move out along with his squad. They couldn't stay out any longer, they had to move on now.

   Larngein and his squad were one of the teams leading the main advance, they would be one of the first to hit any resistance and so they had to be on their upper most guard. Everyone was silent as they crept forward silently and eliminated any mutant patrols or squads they encountered with their knives. The battle still raged everywhere, no where was safe, even where they tread right now,  for all they would know they could get incinerated as a artillery officer accidentally fired at the wrong spot in the line. That would be a hell of a way to die.

   After about a hour of moving forward the combat stopped, falling back the imperials began to withdraw back to their own lines. Larnegin once again felt himself wishing to go with them. But this was how a Guardsmen died. He died in his duty for the emperor of Mankind, sitting atop the golden throne on holy Terra. Suddenly they heard fire ahead. Then their micro beads pipped up, it was Jard. “Sergeant, we have encountered heavy resistance, likely moving to reinforce the line we punched through. Me and the scouts will lead them away-” his bead came up with loud ka chunks as shotguns blasted, “Were going for a secondary position, artillery guns 972. That should lead them away from you.” Caref nodded and ordered all squads to double time it and be careful. They were running out of time.

   Larnegin kept in line and prayed a silent prayer to Jard and the men that they live and succeed. And even more that they live and succeed. Looking back to his friends smiling face he took heart and moved forward diligently. The trenches had mutant dead lining the floor, throats slit and heads smashed. Larky was keeping pace gibbering annoyed. Janeson smiled and hit the little man over the head softly, “Shhhsss, were hunting.” He hissed with a wry smile and a happy eye.

   After about 20 more minutes they saw the guns up close and knew they were drawing close to their target. The guns were massive and searching the sky. Big, heavy, and oppressive they're were horrible sigils, runes, and body parts slathered generously all over the guns. They had been hearing renewed shooting from Jard's forces fighting several miles west, but Larnegin didn't hear the new whistle in the bullets until he saw the leading guardsmen buckle forward. “Take cover!” Instinctively they all did as told, one man dragging the limp form of the point man in cover.

   Larnegin risked look forward and saw a stubber team of mutants. All ready he saw mutants forming up and getting ready to charge them. “Grenadiers to front!” Caref said over the clanking and wet impacts of the stubber and its bullets. The two grenade launchers in the squad went to the front and readied to fire. Then an explosion at the stubber team sent them all sprawling even so far away. What was left was a smoking crater of ruined meat, mud, and steam.

   It encompassed the whole bunker the mutants had been using, blowing out from the inside. It was a confusing sight, but no time to linger on such thoughts of luck or fate as mutants were streaming from the other trenches, some even going so far in blood lust going up about over the trench line. Firing the grenade launchers together killed a dozen on all sides. Suddenly the vox links became mounting with attack reports. Caref yelled out, “Move forward! To the AA guns now! We need to get to them before were overrun.”

   Everyone knew that Caref's words were prophetic as they began to charge forward narrowly evading the crush of CQC with the mutants. Their flame trooper Lunie, also known as “Lunatic”, poured fire forward smiling widely as he put them all to the torch. Wretched screaming went up and the mutants relented a bit, just enough for them to move forward even more. They were at the bunker entrance for the AA guns. Just in sight. So close.

   “Larn! Blast the door! Blast them Larn!” Larnegin snapped out of it. Shaking his head he took out a pound of D9 putty and placed it on the door's hinges and locks. Stepping back lasfire filled his ears as well as the screams of mutants and man. Hitting the detonator the giant metal door had its hinges and locks blown off. Unfortunately the door was still standing upright, and quite comically. The doors wide hinges were scrap and blown apart, as well as the door. Larnegin laughed despite himself, his mind somehow finding it so Emperor damned hilarious.

   Running up to the two ton door he smiled and pushed heavily, soon Janeson, Larky, and a trooper names Carrinton joined in. Laughing for no reason Larnegin felt a loose grasp on his mind like some cent was making him high. The others gave him a strange look and he just shrugged. With the combined assistance of the other troopers they pushed the door forward and it clanged down heavily. Rushing forward with weapons in hands trooper Carrington dropped dead as round whipped through him and his greatcoat seconds after he rushed through.

   Immediately Larky jumped back while Janeson and Larnegin went opposite directions and found cover on the wall or some wooden boxes. The gunfire inside was deafening. The walls were rockcreate, the floor thankfully devoid of dirt. Larnegin clutched his lasrifle and got to a sitting crouch. The mutants didn't have anything heavy but some crude auto guns but they were making a show with. Larky's long las fired and saw a mutant explode in a fountain of gore and viscera. Janeson fired his lasrifle over the lip of is little box in a term affectionately known as blind firing. It did its job in sending the mutants to cover.

   Larnegin took the advantage. Jumping over the wooden box he was using as cover, he had his bayonet attached to his rifle. Finding a pair of mutants he smiled wide as he cut them down with a auto blast of laser fire. A crack, a scrap of dirt, the sound of air rushing around raising his lasrifle. The fighting turned into a tunnel visioned series of pictures and far away sounds. Turning his weapon sharply he turned it on its side blade level with the corrupted flesh. The mutant saw itself disemboweled by his bayonet's sharp edge. Another got up to rise but had a new black mark on its malformed corrupted head for its trouble of rising, the wound instantly cauterizing with the superhot blast of energy going through its head.

   The firing stopped, both inside and outside. The yells continued and the sound of whistling arty was loud outside. At least half a dozen squads began to flood in, firing resumed outside as the rearguard  engaged again. The inner workings door was not sealed and already another breach squad leveled in and began to ready themselves to breach to the inner workings of the Bunker, likely the main chamber. Larngein smiled at his friend once more and together they smiled.

Chapter IV

Death of a Guardsmen

   “FOR VERNESTA!” The whole of the force who pushed in screamed out as they charged into the ill defended base. The few corrupt tech adepts working the triple A were cut down, mutated, blasphemous looking mechanical creatures, tendrils and horns growing from the bodies, the mutants didn't last long as bayonets speared out and killed and killed. Soon many were covered in blood, gore, and other unthinkable things they would rather not think about.

   Larnegin kept pace, with his rifle in hand he fired precision shots and destroyed any opposing force. Soon in less then half a hour the whole facility was cleared. It was not to big, the only defenses seeming to be the turrets outside. Sergeant Caref ordered the turrets occupied and defenses strengthened. The problem here would be to know how to sabotage the guns effectively. Larky began to work with Lunie to see how to destroy the ammo carriage. Janeson went down with his squad to rig the ammo to blow. And Junersan's squad was to start rigging firing pieces to blow and see what else they could do.

   The combat from Commissar Jard's diversion continue for another hour then they saw they were pushed back and heard confirmation from him. Caref sighed, “Were on our own now.” He said into the vox for all. “Lets do this job then get the hell out of here.” They remained untouched for a further 10 minutes. Then they came, and they came with everything they had.

   “Hold the line men!” Sergeant Huolder yelled at his lungs top capacity as he fired down into the mutant hordes coming. “Janeson! How much longer?” Caref spoke in his micro bead, “Longer, we keep finding new rooms and we have to clear-” Caref snapped, “Just hurry! We can't hold out for long, were going to run out of ammo. Rig what you can.” He closed the link. “Larky! Status-” He was cut off himself as a loud internal explosion sounded, “Done sir. We used some of the ammo stores to blow the carriage. Its scrap now!” Larky was coughing out as he and Lunie almost smoked themselves.

   Then the mutants broke in. The door the Marines had to blow to get in had been boarded up with crates, bodies, metal sheets, anything really. The mutants breaking through were annihilated, evaporated waist up from the fire incoming from the guardsmen guarding the door. Larnegin was manning a heavy stubber on the wall. Then the hordes of mutants gave way to something terrible. A Lemen Russ MBT. It was made from the local forges, on it foul symbols and creeds of chaos were painted in filth, shit, and blood. A 8 pointed star sat on the front armor plate of the tank The cannon opened up and Larnegin jumped back just in time to see the gun he just inhabited blown to bits. Several more explosions came from the main guns as firing pieces were blown apart, joints welded shut, pins destroyed, and barrels warped best as they could. It was not enough. It would never be enough. They would die here as fucking sacrificial lambs, martyrs. “No. Not like this.” He said aloud, drowned out by the din of battle.

   The others around him turned to him as he ran down the hall way. He was not trying to run from duty, but find a way to escape for them all before they were killed. The mutants broke in a second door. They were going to be overrun soon. “Sir, we have all the chambers ready to blow. It will be one big bang. It will destroy the whole area!” Janeson's voice piped up. Larnegin knew that they had won, but this was now a question of escape. “Roger. Get up here and help us. Calling in air support.” Caref's voice came over the vox.

   Larnegin got to the end of the hall and the tank was now met with two more of its evil brethren. They all fired and the ferrocreate structure of the AA guns started to splinter. “Sarge! Were not going to last much longer!” Larnegin shouted. A tank exploded out wards as several rockets hit its side. Suddenly hope had arrived. Vendetta gunships. The ships were a standard constructed template of the valkyries. But these were sleeker versions, twin turbines, nose like that of a old military chopper with double cockpits. The nose gun was a heavy bolter. Its wing tips holding rocket pods, its wings also holding many more weapons, lascannons, and a hurricane bolter turret on the lead ship.

    The wave of ammunition and laser beams annihilated the tanks in formation. The bolters from the strafing run killed hundreds of the mutants. But there were still hundreds more mutants then they had ammo for. A third hole blew in, and even more mutants poured in. This was it. They were going to die even with the air support. Then the unexpected happened. A daemon host appeared.

   He fell in the middle of the AA complex, a burning comet from space. The whole complex shook hadn't he mutant horrors outside seemed quiet and they looked on. Suddenly, on the entire planet he knew, all fighting had ceased. Looking at the thing, he clutched his gun tight to his chest in fear, knuckles white in grip. His breathing stopped as he looked upon its form.

   Its head was the most iconic visage. Looking upon the helmet first he had a old looking, well kept helmet. It had a spike on the top, like some old Germanic soldier from a war on old Earth not to different from the kind they were fighting now. The spiked helmet looked technologically advanced but corrupt looking almost. Next its face, it had innumerable scars and wounds, it was a sickly green tinge, with sores and pus spewing from under his chin strap, but his eyes were crystal blue, a sad blue of the ocean, a clean place.

   On his shoulders he held two giant Vox speakers, almost grafted into his skin it seemed. They were rusty and old but they obviously worked well. His clothes were old, grubby, dirty, and sick with disease. On his chest however was emblazoned in foreign letters, “DONOVAN”. The thing smiled grimly and standing from its kneeling stance. He wore a heavy black sickly looking duster over his armor that had its odd looking letters. His pants were standard army fatigues, and boots were polished with filth that was exposed to be boot polish it seemed.

   It looked on to the frozen scene around him and he raise a large caliber pistol and fired at a mutant sending its  form to pink black and green pus filled mist. Then the speakers started to blare with a song that restarted the war across the world with a new fervor. The song dirged out with a heavy beat, beaitn against his mind, then the lyrics,“I like the way you talk, I love the way its loud.” “No one understand the fuck I am about!” It kept going out. The host yelled out the lyrics himself enjoying the words as he fired his pistol at any who approached him, mutant or guardsman. He walked out of the crater he had formed and Larnegin knew with certainty he was after him.

   The song flowed out and shook the entire building, dust came down from the blasphemous walls. Larnegin tried to run truly now. The men kept fighting, he ran past them all. The mutants scaled the walls, climbing through a fire port in front of him Larnegin yelled out and cut the mutant's throat and chopped off a tentacle then a arm. It stalled him enough for the thing behind him to get up the stairs. The music flowed out more loudly, he helped the guardsmen almost. The song in low gothic inspired them in a way to fight harder. But it was not going to be enough to survive. Already the mutants had thousands dead outside the walls, and more were coming, but they were going to die in droves, they maybe weaken the line to get them. He tried to run but then a piece of masonry in-front of him was blown apart by a tank outside.  Caref was now yelling for arty support, the men then began to sing along with the song and in a great chant it seemed they took to heart and repeated it out in resistance.

   Donovan as Larnegin was now going to call the daemon walked up to him, “Larn!” Janeson's voice was heard over the yells and he fired at the thing infront of him. Donovan didn't even flinch from the wound form the lasers. Larnegin aimed his rifle at the thing but he could not pull the trigger, “So, mister important. Time for you to meet your fate.” Explosions rocked the whole complex. The vendetta gunships flew away and artillery pounded away at the base.. Masonry rocked, banners fell, and a bright blue milky orb was raised by Donovan. All of the essence of those who died around was absorbed willingly into the orb. “So mister Larnegin. You shall join me in a quest the galaxy has to offer. No excuses.” Larnegin was about to scream to him to go to hell, but then the explosives from below were detonated, and the entire 10th company, of the 10th Vernestan Marines died under the guns of the Basilisks. And all the while Donovan collected their souls for a greater purpose.

Death of a Guardsmen

Epilogue

   Larnegin awakened. His body sore, his skin felt like it was grown and muscles atrophied from unused. Just slightly, like his body had been grown from a vat or something like that. Groaning he felt tired, wondering where he was he was blinded by white light. Maybe hew as in a medicae temple or even a forward post in the trenches. Last thing he remembered was, a horror before him, and then the whole building exploding form beneath. Looking up he was in a chair. His clothes replaced by white pants, and a white shirt, hand woven, warm, comfortable, big.

   This was strange. Looking around the room it was all white, the table in front of him white as well. There were no visible windows or doors. He felt his head and was clean shaven and his hair cut to his specifications. His PRIVATE specifications. He also had the feeling of being well fed and taken care of. And no scars on him at all besides his old combat ones.

   Looking in confusion suddenly a door formed at the other end of the table. It opened from a unseen crack. Opening a woman, old, but beautiful, with a plaid skirt, lab coat, and a pair of glasses sat down with a heavy file at the other end of the table. She began to read. After about ten minutes Larnegin spoke up, “Um, whe- where am I?” He looked at her feeling her presence was a strong one, something that had lived long and hard.

   After another minute she wrote something down on a notepad with a pen and looking up removed her spectacles. “Larnegin Parenza, Corporal, newly promoted not even two hours before your death on the planet-” She looked down on her notes, “Sigma Seven Fourteen. Recovered by Agent Donovan all your company's men. Even agent Jard it seems. Your greatest achievement was the destruction of triple A platform charlie on the planet, with the death of your company you saved thousands of lives and opened the way for Imperial control and survival in the sector.”

   She smiled at Larnegin, “Your a very good soldier. Smart too.” Larnegin was speechless. Looking at her he found his voice, “De- death?” He asked. She nodded and smiled grimly, “Yes..... You see, men and woman, human and Xenos, do not go to their gods. No. We collect their souls.” Larnegin was speechless. “This can't be-” Suddenly Jard entered behind from the doorway, in full resplendent regalia. But he had the face and body of a daemon, like that one before. Larnegin tried to stand but was to weak, “Larn, glad you awoke.” He smiled, teeth razor sharp and his tongue forked. The medal of a Commissar was proudly displayed with no regret. It was untarnished, unmutated, pure and clean as the soul of any other commissar.

   “But.....” Jard nodded, “I know, surprising. You see I was taken a long time ago, before even your great, great grandfather was born. I died in the battle of Epsilon Eridani. But that was long ago, now it is time for you to be told of the truth. All of it.......”

This is Halloween...

Welcome to the month of October, where candy corn, caramel apples, pumpkin carving contests, and fall is all mixed into one big present. Well to me, it is a present, nothing more exciting then trying to come up with a scary story for Halloween to scare family and friends. Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you the third chapter in my adaptation for "Two minutes of Terror." I began this back in early July, I had an idea to use the settings that one of my favorite flash artists had used, and well, make a short story out of it. I lost interest after the second chapter, because I didn't feel that if I did continue, it wouldn't have the same enthusiasm I had earlier and that it would be a bore. It wasn't until I came across a great TV show called "American Horror Story." Seeing how every episode has something different, something fresh, something that was so random and enlightening to me, that I became excited.

Something stirred up in me when I watched the one episode about the murdered women that were forced to wear nurse uniforms. Now, I know that isn't a very good inspiration, but it wasn't until I saw the Piggy Man episode that got my creative juices flowing, and now, after three days of pouring through ideas about what I could do with my characters that I decided to six chapters, two chapters each showing how one character died. Besides being able to use different aspects of Horror, I was able to dig deeper into Urban Legends, which is where Chapters 3-4 is going to use. Please, read carefully and I will show up with Chapter four on Halloween. Muhahahahahahahahaha....

Chapter Three

"A dying man needs to die, as a sleepy man needs to sleep, and there comes a time when it is wrong, as well as useless, to resist."

Stewart Althop

"Shit!" "What?" "I'm going to be late for my shift at the morgue." I said as I began to put on my panties and bra back on. "Oh come on baby, you just need a night off." I shivered as he kissed my neck and put his wonderfully strong arms around my middle. "I'm off tomorrow; we'll go out for a date." "Promise?" "Promise." I kissed my husband and finished getting dressed; I shivered as I looked out at the full moon from the bedroom window. I didn't need a reminder that I would be putting on my soft, but warm, black trench coat.

 Little did I know how tonight’s events were going to unfold, or how I would only play a small part in this dreadful tale. My name is Casey Wood, M.D. Ya, I know, a Doctor that works in the morgue, if life could be any more ironic I would just might as well believe that pigs fly. I’m twenty-five, five foot six, slim, blond, blue, green eyes, a nice smile, and I should add happily married to a wonderful man that is always constantly horny. Oh well, it’s nice to be able to rule over him with what I have, he gets a nice reward for being obedient.

 The only reason I was down in that cold basement was because I was an assistant to the ever-famous Dr. John Seymour, he was looking for help, and I was looking for a place to work. Therefore, I put in for the job, and surprise, surprise, I get a call, get interviewed, and get the job. He’s really not that bad to work for really, he works during the day, and I get the nights, works out for the both of us.

The roads tonight were rather scarce of other vehicles and pedestrians, but then again, I do have to keep reminding myself that I moved to a middle of nowhere town that didn't have much to offer. But, however, it is quiet, no real crime, the locals are very friendly, and I never thought that me and my husband would be able to eat all of the Jell-O and turkey dinners that were brought over.

So no, I really can’t complain, wouldn't be very helpful, especially since I moved halfway across the country to get where I am now. I pulled into the hospital parking lot and cursed again. I forgot to get some hot coffee at the convenience store down the street, handsome kid works days there, goes by the name of Jason. He’s a local historian buff, but nervous and shy around girls. I wish the best of luck for him.

I grab my purse and keys, and double-checked that I left nothing in the car before I locked it. Last time I forgot my purse and keys and then had to explain to the police officer what had happened. He helped me out with an old coat hanger, and I was saved from going to jail for trying to break into my own vehicle. The hospital is the same as it always has been, same gray brick, same rectangle windows, and same tired looking yellow curtains.

Sometime back in nineteen fifty-seven, Black Ridge Sanitarium was construction, ran by the state, many unlawful practices were committed here. Some of the patients were never even sick, but were healthy and innocent. Only being used for illegal surgeries to learn more about the human anatomy, some of the Doctors performing the operations didn't use anesthetic at all, but rather enjoyed the pain and suffering they were implementing on their illegal operations. However, the past is the past, now this place, as far as I know is very safe, what a fool I was…

I greeted Marcy, the head Nurse that worked behind the main desk at night; she looked like my fifth grade school teacher, with the wrinkly, pale looking skin. Hair pulled painfully back into a bun, no lipstick, no make-up, everything except her attitude made her look mean and well, evil. In fact, she was the sweetest old woman with the biggest heart, I ever did meet, just have to get past the exterior and get a good look at the interior. Several doctors were discussing something over a coffee break as I passed the break room; hospital coffee is not something I would recommend unless you have nothing else to keep you up at night.

As I turned the corner to go down the hall to the elevator, I was assaulted by yelling and screaming. Two patients were in the hall, and by the looks of them both, they weren't quite aware of what they were doing. “BLOODY MARY, BLOODY MARY, BLOODY MARY…” “HERE PIGGY, PIG, PIG, HERE PIGGY, PIG, PIG…” The female patient that was yelling Bloody Mary, was a rather lanky looking teenager, skinny, dirty black hair, and yellow skin. The male patients who was yelling Here Piggy Pig, Pig, was a rather bald, pudgy looking man who looked to be in his late forties, and his skin was a rather sickly white looking color. Both were still yelling at the corner mirror when two orderlies grabbed their arms and attempted to lead them away.

The girl started to suddenly cry, and to my discomfort it looked like her face had been scratched repeatedly, leaving her blind in both eyes. The man adamantly refused to leave the hallway, yelling about Piggy Man was coming for them and that we were all going to die. I watched the depressing and rather agonizing scene for the next few minutes, waiting for the orderlies to carefully but forcefully take the very disturbed patients out of the hall, as the teenager was being led back to her room she suddenly cried out. “SHE IS COMING!”

That was enough for me as I practically sprinted down the hallway and pressed the button to go down to the basement. It wasn't until I got into the elevator and the doors closed that I allowed myself to breathe. More like gasp at the air I had denied myself when I ran, but as the elevator descended I realized that I allowed myself to be affected by the scene with the two disturbed patients. That really wasn't like me, but maybe it was the mood when I entered, it felt drab and depressing instead of the usual cheerfulness.

Sullen and rather depressed when the door opened to my work place, I felt that all life had ceased to exist in this dimension called The Morgue. “How have my dead been doing?” I asked to just break the silence that had been plaguing me. No one answered, didn't expect them to, they were dead, and the dead were better listeners then most living people I knew. I put my purse down and checked the time on the wall clock at the far end of the basement. The harsh glare from the fluorescent lighting made it a little difficult to read but 7:15 was the time. Fifteen minutes ago, I was worrying about how I was going to stay up, now, all I wanted to do was do my job, go home, and snuggle underneath my covers with my cat.

Now between you and me, the fresh corpses that came in during the day were kept in large metal boxes, put on metal stretchers that slid in and out of them. Nothing covering them besides a sheet for dignity, naked underneath as the day they were born. The room is about as cold as a refrigerator, making it necessary to wear some sort of sweater while you work. It helps keep the bodies from decomposing and well, smell. I don’t know if you've ever smelled a dead body, but just think of putrid pizza coupled with raw fish gone bad. Ya, it’s that bad, believe me on that.

The first corpse that I inspected was a woman in her mid-fifties, apparently died from a heart attack in the ambulance. Poor thing, she looked like she didn't go peacefully, her mouth still open in a state of pain, her eyes where once the caring soul that was tortured was gone. Leaving behind an empty house, and for someone to bury, cry over, cut open, or just ignore. I talked to her as I began to go over what was written down, now this is where my job comes in. I am to do a dissection of the body, to make sure the cause of death was natural or not, weighing organs and such. I pulled out my mini recorder and looked over the woman.

“Chelsey Anna Richards, female, died at approximately 3:52 P.M. on October twenty-first, two thousand and twelve. Patient appears to be fifty-five in age, no lacerations located on the body. Birthmark on right shoulder in the shape of a star has white hair, blue eyes.” I paused and studied the clipboard from which I was reading. I was about to continue when something caught my eye, a blur so fast, I wasn't even sure if it was real. I looked around for a moment, seeing if it would happen again, it didn't.

I sighed; I must have been really stressed because when I looked down to continue my report, she was gone. Nothing was on that metal stretcher, when I looked up to see where the body went everything was tinted red. A dark and light red where the normal color should have been, “No, this isn't happening…” I told myself. That was when I heard some squealing and grunting, that of a pig. The hairs on my body stood up when I took a step back and bumped into something.

I turned around slowly, telling myself that it was only wall, and when I did, I screamed out in fear. A large looking man, with a pigs head was standing before me; he was wearing a butcher’s apron and holding a very large, nasty looking cleaver covered in dry blood. I swear our eyes met, and something inside of me broke as I took a large leap backwards. Knocking over the stretcher and tripping me when I tried to run. I yelped in pain as the large Pig man took a step forward and squealed loudly, the cleaver raised into the air, with my life flashing before my eyes.

I put my arms up and closed my eyes as tears ran down my face as the cleaver swung down and chopped off my arms, leaving only bloody stumps below my elbows. I howled in pain and terror as the Pig man raised up his cleaver again, my blood running down the sharp blade, and I cried harder than before, begging, pleading for my life. However, it was not to be, I could picture the deranged, sadistic smile behind the mask. I watched in slow motion, as the blade came down, my eyes grew wide when I felt it bite into my neck and carried through to the other end.

They say when you are first beheaded, you don’t think, you can’t move, you can’t even say anything. I watched as I flew off and landed on my right ear, my body arched its back from the fountain of blood that painted the white tiles red from the severed neck. I watched helplessly as it then twitched from the death throes it was going through. It then went still, everything went still, my eyes closed, and that was all I could remember…