Friday, November 23, 2007
Writers support group
I just wanted to let everyone know that I found a writers support group in Sarasota Florida for local writers to help with idea's. They meet once a month to discuss problems and help each other develop their abilities. Also they have regular workshops to share their works to critique each other's work and help improve your effectiveness. The head of the group is Linda MAree and she can be reached @ Etainwrites@aol.com if anyone locally is interested.
Friday, October 19, 2007
Well now. I guess it is time to post the first part of my book as I promissed. This first part is the prologue but it should give you some indication of what my book is like. Please do feel free to leave me notes and tell me what you think (and be honest). The book is titled: "The Fate of Evil; The Coven." It is the first of a series of books plotted about a young man who has a psychic gift that is destined to be lead into a confrontation that would rival anyones worst nightmare. so, here is the very first installment.
The Fate of Evil;
Book One
The Coven
Written By
G. D. Garman
Prologue
Robby woke in the darkness with a stab of fear. Something had disturbed his sleep but he didn’t know whether it was dream or real. Once again Robby felt the call rather than heard it. He calmed rapidly now that he recognized who had been summoning him. Although he wasn’t really sure who or what she was, he knew that she was his friend and would never hurt him. He sat up so that he could look around but found that he could see little in the darkened room, with only the small night light atop the chest of drawers, but he could see well enough to recognize his own bedroom. He could just barely make out the table between his crib and Jack's bed with the half remaining box of caramel popcorn and his favorite bear perched on top. Daddy had given it to him a few weeks ago after he had had a bad dream. He had told Robby that the bear would protect him from bad dreams. He knew that his daddy was just trying to ease his night frights, because Robby understood the difference between a dream and real life. His parents just couldn't seem to believe that he could grasp such ideas because he was so young, so he carried the bear around to make them think it made him feel better. Besides, it was fun to pretend that it was a real bear to play with. Most of the time it was his only real companion other than his parents, and it had become a special friend because it never got angry with him or felt afraid or jealous or any other bad emotions. He could always count on him to play without any reservations or bad feelings of any kind. His bear was a safe playmate.
Crawling to the bottom of his crib, he looked over at his brothers' bed to be sure that Jack was still asleep. Robby could see slight movement under the covers and he was afraid that Jack had also heard the call. He reached out with his mind to listen briefly to the dream that Jack was having. He was talking to the 'Sky King'. He was dreaming that he was the real pilot in that show, flying all over the west to save the old timer's daughter from outlaws trying to rustle their cattle. He paused for a moment to enjoy his brother's version of the show and he had to laugh silently when Jack tried to kiss the girl. Jack often dreamed of being in his favorite television shows. Even though Robby was only just two years old, he could recognize the images he saw in Jack's mind as coming from that show.
Again, the call came to him breaking his link with his brother, this time it was more urgent as time was growing short. He reached out to touch her mind and she responded that she had something very important to tell him, but she was unable to stay for very long. Robby responded by climbing over the rail of his crib and down the outside. The floor was cold on his feet, but he ignored that, as he was intent on the task of being quiet. Creeping slowly, he stepped over the loose board by the doorframe that creaked loudly when stepped upon, and then he went out into the upstairs hallway. Here, there was only a very tiny night light in a plug halfway down the hall that ran the length of the house on this floor. Although shrouded in shadows, he could see that the door to his parents' bedroom was half closed. He proceeded slowly to be quiet as he passed by. He did not want to wake anyone.
Next, he came to a stairwell with a gate blocking it. This he avoided as his mother always told him to do. A touch of fear came to him as it always did when he tried to visualize what it was below that his mother feared so much. He was sure that some terrible monster was down there waiting to eat him or do some other terrible thing to him. He knew something awful must be down there to make his mother so afraid. She always had such terror inside her when she carried him down those stairs, ever so slowly so she didn't wake the sleeping demon on the second floor. She always took forever to go down because she went so carefully with each and every step. All the way down she worried frantically about losing him. By the time they got to the first floor landing Robby was always ready to cry. He could feel the hatred of the inhabitant of that floor sometimes and when he felt it he was frightened too. Robby could feel the hatred inside his mother for that inhabitant and it made him sad. It was always there, buried deep inside.
He feared that some day she might feel that way about him too. He knew that his mother loved him and Jack equally, but the thought of losing that love scared him more than the monster on the second floor. He feared that she would send him away if she stopped loving him. Then what would he do?
Robby continued down the hallway to the opposite end of the house and stopped in front of the closed bathroom door. She came to him there and began to talk to him in ideas and images, in ways never spoken. There were a great many things that he needed to learn, and so she taught him of things he could not as yet understand and would not remember consciously until it was time for him to know. He knew that they were important things and that one-day they would save his life. She also taught him of his destiny, and of what he would need to do and become. These things, he was told, he could never share with another soul, not even his mother…
Mrs. Coleman awoke with a start from a dream she always hated. As before, she dreamed of one of her sons falling to their deaths down the stairs and she awoke just in time to stifle a scream before it could emerge from her throat. She clamped a hand over her own mouth to be sure no sound would escape and wake her sleeping husband Jack. She needn't have worried though. He was 'sawing logs' so loud that he wouldn't have heard a cannon go off next to him.
Then the memory of the dream came to her and of the daughter who had died plummeting down those deadly steps. She hated herself for not being more careful. She hated herself for not watching Jessica closer. Leaving the gate open was inexcusable. She would never forgive herself.
Then, her hatred turned toward her mother-in-law who had always called from the second floor, asking for Jessica to come down to help her. Alana should never have allowed Mrs. Coleman to lavish so much attention on Jessica, but she had relented because it was easier to let the old woman spoil her only granddaughter than fight with her about it. Whenever Alana had resisted, Mrs. Coleman would complain to her son and then it would cause a fight between him and Alana. So, she had been lenient and allowed grandmother and granddaughter to become overly close. They had spent every day together. They played games and did puzzles together. They baked cookies and watched television together. They had become inseparable as their companionship had become a daily routine. Jessica had been six at the time that the accident had occurred. She had gotten up early one morning and asked to go down to grandmas. Alana was pregnant with Robby at the time and this particular morning she was sick. She tried to tell Jessica that she had to wait for a while, but her daughter had been in too much of a hurry to wait on her mother's stomach problems.
"Mommy doesn't feel very good right now," she had said, while looking up from her morning sickness ritual in the bathroom. "I'll take you down in just a minute baby," she added, turning back to the toilet. Her daughter, however, had been in such a hurry to go down stairs to see her grandma that while Alana was in the bathroom vomiting; Jessica went to the gate to go down on her own. That was the last time Alana had ever gotten to speak with her daughter again.
Alana was disturbed in her retching by the sound of a scream that would forever haunt her. It was a scream of complete mortal terror. She ran from the bathroom to the hall to see the open gate and knew in her heart what had occurred. Her spine turned to ice and her legs became as rubber as she glanced over the rail to see a sight that nearly stole her sanity. Jessica lay at the bottom of the second floor landing with her head at an impossible angle. Mrs. Coleman was standing over her dead granddaughter, her face a mask of shock and anguish. The scream had undoubtedly been hers. Alana would never forget the tear-stained look on her face as she looked up to see the child's mother looking down upon them. Then, she remembered vividly how her mother-in-law’s look of tragic loss turned instantly to one of hatred and accusation. Surely it had been Alana's fault for not being a better mother. It was Alana's fault because she didn't watch over her child adequately enough to protect her. She hated Alana for letting her granddaughter die. It should have been her instead. All this and more was said with one look. She knew that her mother-in-law would never forgive her. Nor would she ever forgive herself.
Pain erupted from Alana's abdomen and a scream escaped her throat. Being only seven months along in her pregnancy, she would soon lose another child as labor set in prematurely. Darkness enshrouded her as she lost consciousness.
When she awoke in the hospital she was completely disoriented, not knowing at first what had happened? She could not fathom what all the tubes and wires were attached to her for. Then, in a rush, it all came back to her. She remembered what had happened, and her world turned to pain and grief. She knew that she had lost two children in one day. She cried in silent lonely convulsions. It was too much to bear and her heart slipped into black despair. She wanted it to have been her to die. She prayed to God to make it be so, but he would not heed her call. It should have been her, she thought, not my babies. She cried and mourned for her lost children, until at last a warm hand on hers brought her to awareness and she found a nurse standing at her bedside. She also was crying, but in compassion. Despite the cold sterile uniform, she had a warm heart. Then, when they both stopped crying, she had a warm smile.
"Where's my baby?" Alana inquired.
"I'll get the doctor," replied the nurse, who quickly disappeared. A few seconds later, a portly man in middle years came in and looked at her over glasses that rested halfway down his nose. He smiled compassionately, but his gaze was stern.
"Mrs. Coleman, we need to talk," he said as he sat down and took her hand in his. "We had to do a cesarean section because your baby was not tolerating labor. His heart rate was slowing with each contraction and we feared he could not survive otherwise."
"He's alive?" she inquired. "Where is he?"
"Yes, he's alive for now, and he's just down the hall. He's actually doing all right for the moment, but I'm sure you realize that his chances of survival are very grim. He is only seven months developed and he weighs only a little over a pound." He paused to grip her hand more firmly as if to keep her from falling even deeper into despair. "I'm sorry Mrs. Coleman… we are doing all that we can, but he may not live out the day." The knife struck deeper into the pit of her stomach as she looked into the doctor’s eyes pleadingly.
"He will die then," she more stated than asked.
"Probably." he replied with a tone of regret. "In fact, we nearly lost you both during the delivery. It was a miracle that you both survived. However, you must understand that he is not developed enough and will probably not live very long."
"Can I see him?" she asked with a subdued tone.
"I'm afraid it would be too difficult for just now," he replied. "He is in our neonatal intensive care unit and is being worked on by some very good pediatricians. Our hospital boasts some of the best neonatal specialists in the country."
His visage had begun to blur as tears flooded down her face. The realization began to hit home of just how dire things really were. She buried her face in her pillow and lost control in grief for a while. A little while later she realized that doctor Mason was speaking again.
"You go ahead and let it out for now, but remember, you still have a son at home who needs you and perhaps another if God deems to save him. They will both need their mother's love and guidance." Those words had given her a lifeline to hold onto. They still did.
Robby had made it through the first day, and then the first week, then a month, then, at long last he came home. He was six months old by then, but he was healthy. She remembered the first time she got to hold him. He was one month old and he was so tiny she could hold him in one hand. Now he was two and she still had trouble believing he still lived. He must have inherited his father's stubbornness. Thank God for that!
Alana roused herself from her bed and headed towards the bathroom to empty her full bladder. She went as quietly as possible so as not to wake Jack, her husband. She'd check on the boys after satisfying nature’s call. She stumbled into the hall and padded toward the bathroom. Halfway down something caught her eye. At first she was unsure of what she was seeing in the dark. Then, a sudden twinge of fear stabbed at her when she realized that there was someone standing in the hall in front of the bathroom door. The shape of the person's silhouette that she could just barely make out in the poor light was unfamiliar. Her fear escalated significantly. It could be a burglar, come to rob them, although there wasn't anything of any real value in their house, but the thought frightened her anyway. There is nothing more frightening than the unknown.
She reached out with a shaking hand to the wall and flipped on the light switch. The overhead light blinded her at first, but as her eyes adjusted, she was surprised to find out that the shape she had seen was Robby. He was standing there with his arms extended upward. But, there was something peculiar about how he was standing there. It was hard to put a finger on at first, but she tried to fight the sleep in her mind to make sense of what she was seeing. Then suddenly, she realized that his head was as high as her own. She rubbed the last of the sleep from her eyes and refocused. Although she saw clearer now, her mind refused to accept what her eyes were telling her, so she rubbed them again. Then, what she was seeing finally sank into her conscious mind. Robby was suspended in the air with his feet about three feet above the floor. There was nothing beneath him to give him such height. He resembled one of those magician's assistants waiting for the rings to be passed over his body to prove there were no strings. But there were no strings and no magician. Her bladder released as reality left her, and she fainted dead away.
The Fate of Evil;
Book One
The Coven
Written By
G. D. Garman
Prologue
Robby woke in the darkness with a stab of fear. Something had disturbed his sleep but he didn’t know whether it was dream or real. Once again Robby felt the call rather than heard it. He calmed rapidly now that he recognized who had been summoning him. Although he wasn’t really sure who or what she was, he knew that she was his friend and would never hurt him. He sat up so that he could look around but found that he could see little in the darkened room, with only the small night light atop the chest of drawers, but he could see well enough to recognize his own bedroom. He could just barely make out the table between his crib and Jack's bed with the half remaining box of caramel popcorn and his favorite bear perched on top. Daddy had given it to him a few weeks ago after he had had a bad dream. He had told Robby that the bear would protect him from bad dreams. He knew that his daddy was just trying to ease his night frights, because Robby understood the difference between a dream and real life. His parents just couldn't seem to believe that he could grasp such ideas because he was so young, so he carried the bear around to make them think it made him feel better. Besides, it was fun to pretend that it was a real bear to play with. Most of the time it was his only real companion other than his parents, and it had become a special friend because it never got angry with him or felt afraid or jealous or any other bad emotions. He could always count on him to play without any reservations or bad feelings of any kind. His bear was a safe playmate.
Crawling to the bottom of his crib, he looked over at his brothers' bed to be sure that Jack was still asleep. Robby could see slight movement under the covers and he was afraid that Jack had also heard the call. He reached out with his mind to listen briefly to the dream that Jack was having. He was talking to the 'Sky King'. He was dreaming that he was the real pilot in that show, flying all over the west to save the old timer's daughter from outlaws trying to rustle their cattle. He paused for a moment to enjoy his brother's version of the show and he had to laugh silently when Jack tried to kiss the girl. Jack often dreamed of being in his favorite television shows. Even though Robby was only just two years old, he could recognize the images he saw in Jack's mind as coming from that show.
Again, the call came to him breaking his link with his brother, this time it was more urgent as time was growing short. He reached out to touch her mind and she responded that she had something very important to tell him, but she was unable to stay for very long. Robby responded by climbing over the rail of his crib and down the outside. The floor was cold on his feet, but he ignored that, as he was intent on the task of being quiet. Creeping slowly, he stepped over the loose board by the doorframe that creaked loudly when stepped upon, and then he went out into the upstairs hallway. Here, there was only a very tiny night light in a plug halfway down the hall that ran the length of the house on this floor. Although shrouded in shadows, he could see that the door to his parents' bedroom was half closed. He proceeded slowly to be quiet as he passed by. He did not want to wake anyone.
Next, he came to a stairwell with a gate blocking it. This he avoided as his mother always told him to do. A touch of fear came to him as it always did when he tried to visualize what it was below that his mother feared so much. He was sure that some terrible monster was down there waiting to eat him or do some other terrible thing to him. He knew something awful must be down there to make his mother so afraid. She always had such terror inside her when she carried him down those stairs, ever so slowly so she didn't wake the sleeping demon on the second floor. She always took forever to go down because she went so carefully with each and every step. All the way down she worried frantically about losing him. By the time they got to the first floor landing Robby was always ready to cry. He could feel the hatred of the inhabitant of that floor sometimes and when he felt it he was frightened too. Robby could feel the hatred inside his mother for that inhabitant and it made him sad. It was always there, buried deep inside.
He feared that some day she might feel that way about him too. He knew that his mother loved him and Jack equally, but the thought of losing that love scared him more than the monster on the second floor. He feared that she would send him away if she stopped loving him. Then what would he do?
Robby continued down the hallway to the opposite end of the house and stopped in front of the closed bathroom door. She came to him there and began to talk to him in ideas and images, in ways never spoken. There were a great many things that he needed to learn, and so she taught him of things he could not as yet understand and would not remember consciously until it was time for him to know. He knew that they were important things and that one-day they would save his life. She also taught him of his destiny, and of what he would need to do and become. These things, he was told, he could never share with another soul, not even his mother…
Mrs. Coleman awoke with a start from a dream she always hated. As before, she dreamed of one of her sons falling to their deaths down the stairs and she awoke just in time to stifle a scream before it could emerge from her throat. She clamped a hand over her own mouth to be sure no sound would escape and wake her sleeping husband Jack. She needn't have worried though. He was 'sawing logs' so loud that he wouldn't have heard a cannon go off next to him.
Then the memory of the dream came to her and of the daughter who had died plummeting down those deadly steps. She hated herself for not being more careful. She hated herself for not watching Jessica closer. Leaving the gate open was inexcusable. She would never forgive herself.
Then, her hatred turned toward her mother-in-law who had always called from the second floor, asking for Jessica to come down to help her. Alana should never have allowed Mrs. Coleman to lavish so much attention on Jessica, but she had relented because it was easier to let the old woman spoil her only granddaughter than fight with her about it. Whenever Alana had resisted, Mrs. Coleman would complain to her son and then it would cause a fight between him and Alana. So, she had been lenient and allowed grandmother and granddaughter to become overly close. They had spent every day together. They played games and did puzzles together. They baked cookies and watched television together. They had become inseparable as their companionship had become a daily routine. Jessica had been six at the time that the accident had occurred. She had gotten up early one morning and asked to go down to grandmas. Alana was pregnant with Robby at the time and this particular morning she was sick. She tried to tell Jessica that she had to wait for a while, but her daughter had been in too much of a hurry to wait on her mother's stomach problems.
"Mommy doesn't feel very good right now," she had said, while looking up from her morning sickness ritual in the bathroom. "I'll take you down in just a minute baby," she added, turning back to the toilet. Her daughter, however, had been in such a hurry to go down stairs to see her grandma that while Alana was in the bathroom vomiting; Jessica went to the gate to go down on her own. That was the last time Alana had ever gotten to speak with her daughter again.
Alana was disturbed in her retching by the sound of a scream that would forever haunt her. It was a scream of complete mortal terror. She ran from the bathroom to the hall to see the open gate and knew in her heart what had occurred. Her spine turned to ice and her legs became as rubber as she glanced over the rail to see a sight that nearly stole her sanity. Jessica lay at the bottom of the second floor landing with her head at an impossible angle. Mrs. Coleman was standing over her dead granddaughter, her face a mask of shock and anguish. The scream had undoubtedly been hers. Alana would never forget the tear-stained look on her face as she looked up to see the child's mother looking down upon them. Then, she remembered vividly how her mother-in-law’s look of tragic loss turned instantly to one of hatred and accusation. Surely it had been Alana's fault for not being a better mother. It was Alana's fault because she didn't watch over her child adequately enough to protect her. She hated Alana for letting her granddaughter die. It should have been her instead. All this and more was said with one look. She knew that her mother-in-law would never forgive her. Nor would she ever forgive herself.
Pain erupted from Alana's abdomen and a scream escaped her throat. Being only seven months along in her pregnancy, she would soon lose another child as labor set in prematurely. Darkness enshrouded her as she lost consciousness.
When she awoke in the hospital she was completely disoriented, not knowing at first what had happened? She could not fathom what all the tubes and wires were attached to her for. Then, in a rush, it all came back to her. She remembered what had happened, and her world turned to pain and grief. She knew that she had lost two children in one day. She cried in silent lonely convulsions. It was too much to bear and her heart slipped into black despair. She wanted it to have been her to die. She prayed to God to make it be so, but he would not heed her call. It should have been her, she thought, not my babies. She cried and mourned for her lost children, until at last a warm hand on hers brought her to awareness and she found a nurse standing at her bedside. She also was crying, but in compassion. Despite the cold sterile uniform, she had a warm heart. Then, when they both stopped crying, she had a warm smile.
"Where's my baby?" Alana inquired.
"I'll get the doctor," replied the nurse, who quickly disappeared. A few seconds later, a portly man in middle years came in and looked at her over glasses that rested halfway down his nose. He smiled compassionately, but his gaze was stern.
"Mrs. Coleman, we need to talk," he said as he sat down and took her hand in his. "We had to do a cesarean section because your baby was not tolerating labor. His heart rate was slowing with each contraction and we feared he could not survive otherwise."
"He's alive?" she inquired. "Where is he?"
"Yes, he's alive for now, and he's just down the hall. He's actually doing all right for the moment, but I'm sure you realize that his chances of survival are very grim. He is only seven months developed and he weighs only a little over a pound." He paused to grip her hand more firmly as if to keep her from falling even deeper into despair. "I'm sorry Mrs. Coleman… we are doing all that we can, but he may not live out the day." The knife struck deeper into the pit of her stomach as she looked into the doctor’s eyes pleadingly.
"He will die then," she more stated than asked.
"Probably." he replied with a tone of regret. "In fact, we nearly lost you both during the delivery. It was a miracle that you both survived. However, you must understand that he is not developed enough and will probably not live very long."
"Can I see him?" she asked with a subdued tone.
"I'm afraid it would be too difficult for just now," he replied. "He is in our neonatal intensive care unit and is being worked on by some very good pediatricians. Our hospital boasts some of the best neonatal specialists in the country."
His visage had begun to blur as tears flooded down her face. The realization began to hit home of just how dire things really were. She buried her face in her pillow and lost control in grief for a while. A little while later she realized that doctor Mason was speaking again.
"You go ahead and let it out for now, but remember, you still have a son at home who needs you and perhaps another if God deems to save him. They will both need their mother's love and guidance." Those words had given her a lifeline to hold onto. They still did.
Robby had made it through the first day, and then the first week, then a month, then, at long last he came home. He was six months old by then, but he was healthy. She remembered the first time she got to hold him. He was one month old and he was so tiny she could hold him in one hand. Now he was two and she still had trouble believing he still lived. He must have inherited his father's stubbornness. Thank God for that!
Alana roused herself from her bed and headed towards the bathroom to empty her full bladder. She went as quietly as possible so as not to wake Jack, her husband. She'd check on the boys after satisfying nature’s call. She stumbled into the hall and padded toward the bathroom. Halfway down something caught her eye. At first she was unsure of what she was seeing in the dark. Then, a sudden twinge of fear stabbed at her when she realized that there was someone standing in the hall in front of the bathroom door. The shape of the person's silhouette that she could just barely make out in the poor light was unfamiliar. Her fear escalated significantly. It could be a burglar, come to rob them, although there wasn't anything of any real value in their house, but the thought frightened her anyway. There is nothing more frightening than the unknown.
She reached out with a shaking hand to the wall and flipped on the light switch. The overhead light blinded her at first, but as her eyes adjusted, she was surprised to find out that the shape she had seen was Robby. He was standing there with his arms extended upward. But, there was something peculiar about how he was standing there. It was hard to put a finger on at first, but she tried to fight the sleep in her mind to make sense of what she was seeing. Then suddenly, she realized that his head was as high as her own. She rubbed the last of the sleep from her eyes and refocused. Although she saw clearer now, her mind refused to accept what her eyes were telling her, so she rubbed them again. Then, what she was seeing finally sank into her conscious mind. Robby was suspended in the air with his feet about three feet above the floor. There was nothing beneath him to give him such height. He resembled one of those magician's assistants waiting for the rings to be passed over his body to prove there were no strings. But there were no strings and no magician. Her bladder released as reality left her, and she fainted dead away.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Short Story: Be Careful What you Wish for.
Be Careful What you wish for
By G. D. Garman
Harris was bored to death. His job was so tedious that he could barely make it through the day without yawning in his co-worker’s faces. He had been working here in this contractor’s office running the same blueprint machine for two years now. When he had taken this job, he had expected to do this for a few months and was led to believe that he would move up into a better position as soon as one opened. He had the training to be a draftsman, but was told by every office in town that there were no openings at the time. So, he had taken a position here with the understanding that he would get the next opening that came along. This had not turned out to be the case. So, here he was in a dead-end job that promised nothing but tedium for the rest of his days.
He finished setting up the printer for the day and started the first run of blueprints. As soon as he got them developing, he took a short break to go get a cup of coffee. As usual, once he got to the break room, he found the same slackers that always hung out there on a regular basis. It was so unfair, that these freeloaders got the job he had earned. As usual here was Roger, gabbing away. Roger was new, being hired only six months ago, and he was the laziest individual that Harris had ever met. He spent the greater part of the day here, sipping his hot brew while gossiping with others. That job should have been his, but Roger had gotten it because he was the boss’s nephew. To Harris, he was just a waste of oxygen. The man produced next to nothing. He rarely saw any drawings come over for transcription from the man. He was a true freeloader that was for sure.
Then, there was Pamela Sleaze or sneeze, or whatever her last name was, Harris wasn’t sure. She was only five foot, but weighed about two hundred and fifty pounds if she weighed an ounce. She was almost as bad as Roger in her gossiping. She always had some tidbit of scandalous news to tell and Harris doubted that any of her stories were anything but bull. She acted so superior to everyone that it made him want to puke in her face. Now that would be a sight he would pay to see.
He looked around and sure enough there were the butch twins. Shirley and Barbara were always together when they weren’t at their desks. Everybody knew that they were lesbians. Harris didn’t hold that against them though. ‘To each their own’ was his motto. What bothered him about them was that they always tried to suck up to the foreman. Every thing that came out of his mouth was golden, according to them. When he was around, they doted on every word that he said. But, when he wasn’t around, they always talked down about him, accusing him of everything from lechery to perversion. They always claimed that he was continually trying to look down their blouses or watching them bend over. It didn’t seem like all that much of a crime to him. If they bend over to show it, why shouldn’t the boss enjoy the fringe benefits? He seriously doubted that Mr. Sylvan paid near as much attention to them as they claimed. Some people just need to be the center of attention.
Suddenly, he spied a new face in the crowd. A young woman was at the coffee pot pouring a cup, and just as Harris spotted her, she turned towards him and he got a clear look at her. She was exquisitely beautiful. Her clear golden skin was flawless and her shining blue eyes were so captivating that as she glanced up at him, he was instantly mesmerized. He couldn’t even try to look away from that gaze that promised the world in sexual pleasure. Within them he saw the girl next door in innocence as well as the most enticing sexpot that ever existed. There was a burning heat of desire that lit every fire within him to a blaze that threatened to consume him. He was frozen in a stare that was impossible to turn away from. She had to be the most beautiful woman in the world and he found that at that second, he would do anything to possess her. No cost would be too much to have her. He would gladly die in the next instant just to spend one night with her. Then, her turning away to return to her work area broke the spell.
Who was she? Why had he become so obsessed in just an instant? Never had he been so completely taken by a woman in his whole life. He was confused by his own desires for her. He felt as though she had somehow captured his soul in an instant and now he couldn’t help himself. He was a slave to his primal urges.
Harris shook his head to clear it and went to the lavatory to throw cold water on his face. The coolness helped to clear his mind, but still, the memory of her face haunted him. Her beauty kept stealing into his consciousness. He would never be able to forget her gaze, and so he decided to go find her later and talk to her to see what might come of it. After his decision, Harris felt better and was able to return to work. When the opportunity arrived, he would act upon his desires, and so he could be patient for now.
The rest of his workday went on in its usual dreariness and although he frequently was reminded of the woman’s face, he was able to turn his focus from her for now. As the afternoon wore on, his co-workers began to leave for the day and his workload began to wane. When he was the only one left in the office, he began to prepare to shut down the blueprint developer once the last sketch had been loaded. When this task was done, he would then be able to leave for the day.
As he reached for the switch to turn off the big machine he was distracted by a presence behind him. He turned to find the young woman he had seen earlier standing before him. Her beautiful smile and luscious eyes were still as captivating as he remembered. When he looked again into those eyes, the hidden message he had intuited renewed and he found that he could not look away. She was incredibly gorgeous. He felt his own will slipping away as he began to fall into those orbs of passion.
“Hi,” she said in the most sensual manner imaginable. Harris wanted instantly to take her in his arms and smother her with kisses. But found that he could not move.
“Hello,” he returned in a cracked voice that mimicked a hormonal adolescent. She reached up to play with the shiny object that hung around her neck. Harris was momentarily distracted by the action and glanced at the object to see was an ankh. When she flipped it between her fingers, the movement of her hands enthralled him. Her every move stirred him with enticement. She radiated sex with every breath. “What can I do for you,” he asked. She smiled before answering. Her smile was as intoxicating as a double shot of whiskey. It made him feel dizzy as though he had been drugged by some odd narcotic. The rest of the world faded from his consciousness and the only thing on his mind was the face of this wondrous beauty before him.
“It’s what I can do for you,” she replied. “Don’t you hunger for some… excitement?” She continued to advance towards him slowly without taking her eyes from his. Her eyes continued to promise him untold riches of lust. They promised him endless amounts of ecstasy… Of primal dreams unheard of in the conscious mind. Only a man’s Id could promise such desires to be fulfilled. His inner beast begged to be freed to ravage her.
“I… I suppose so,” he answered with almost no breath. Suddenly, he was stopped in his retreat by running into a small table that sat in the corner. He glanced back for a split second and when he looked up he saw her coming at him with a wider smile that revealed huge fangs protruding from the roof of her mouth. Fear sent a sudden shot of adrenalin into his body making Harris jump in response. When he landed, he tripped over his feet to fall on top of the small table. He felt it collapse under him and landed on his back on the floor with the broken legs protruding up beside him. He looked up again to see the woman throwing herself at him all at once and with out thought, he grasped the table leg beside him to pull it forward. The voluptuous creature seeking to bite him landed atop that splintered piece of wood and became impaled. She stopped at once and looked down at her pierced chest and died with a sudden cough.
Harris was revolted by the site of the creature that was still atop him and pushed the grizzly thing aside to get up beside the developer. Then, without warning, the woman’s body exploded throwing him into the machine where he landed on top of a pipe. He felt the pipe give way under him and when it broke off it released the ammonia from within. Harris gasped, sucking in the ammonia vapor and then lost consciousness as it took his breath completely away.
∑
His consciousness wandered in and out in a haze that he could not pierce. Little moments of sensation came and went as he felt pain from time to time, but he was unable to focus on what was hurting. Every time he would begin to arouse from that dark well of unconsciousness, a new blanket would be added to darken his world again. It seemed that he was kept a prisoner in that dark world for such a long time that he began to wonder if he was in fact dead. Either that or this was the longest nightmare he had ever experienced.
An unknown time later, he found himself beginning to surface from that well of darkness. The first thing he realized was that his throat was killing him. He must have been horribly injured somehow. He reached up to grasp his neck but found no evidence of injury. He then opened his eyes to see that he was in a hospital room and that he was not alone. A tall silver haired man was standing beside the bed looking down on him.
“How are you feeling?” he asked in a deep bass voice. Harris tried to respond, but found it very hard to make any sound whatsoever. “Don’t worry; your voice will get better in time. Having that tube down your throat for a week does make it a little rough on the vocal chords.” Harris shook his head to clear it.
“What happened?” Harris asked in a bare whisper.
“You were caught in an explosion and asphyxiated by industrial ammonia. I’m afraid that your lungs were burned, so we had to keep you on machinery to help you breathe until your lungs healed enough to sustain you again. You were quite lucky that someone else was in the building when it occurred. If you had lain there any longer, you would have been in a pine box right now instead of this comfortable bed.”
“You said that I’ve been here for a week?” Harris inquired.
“Yes,” replied the doctor. “We had to keep you sedated to allow your lungs to heal. It’s a bad thing to get your lungs burned. Most people don’t survive it. It was a break for you that you didn’t inhale very much of the caustic liquid. The burns were not as serious as they could have been. How are you feeling now?” Harris thought for a moment before responding.
“Like a truck ran over me,” he replied. He managed a small chuckle as the doctor laughed. Suddenly, he remembered what had brought him to this present situation and fear crept into his mind. “What happened to the woman who was with me?”
“There was nobody else with you when you came in. I was on duty when you were admitted and I would have known if anyone else had been brought in with you. I was told that you were alone in the whole wing when the explosion occurred. Why? Do you remember something about the accident?”
“I thought I did. I remembered this beautiful woman being there. It seems that she was chasing me or something.”
“Well, don’t take anything like that seriously. The stuff that you were knocked out with causes some wild hallucinogenic dreams. I had a patient once that claimed he went through the end of the world while being drugged. Another one thought that he had gotten married to a famous model while he was under and wanted to know where his wife was. Don’t worry about it; your head will clear soon. Well, I have to go. I’ll send in the nurse with something to drink to soothe your raw throat. Just be patient and we’ll have you out of here in a couple of days.” With that, he was left alone with his thoughts for company. Was that girl all just a dream? She must have been; there were no such things as vampires any way. Besides, it was still light out when his encounter happened. Weren’t vampires supposed to be nocturnal? What an imagination he had! Vampires! What was next, Gremlins?
He sat up on the side of the bed and looked around the room. It did feel good to be sitting up. He spotted a pile of clothes sitting on a table beside his bed. He recognized them as the ones he was wearing on the day of the accident. On top was an envelope. He reached over to pick it up just as a nurse walked in.
“Where do you think you are going?” she asked in a stern voice.
“Nowhere,” he replied. “I was just looking around. God, it feels good to be out of that bed.”
“I can imagine,” she replied. “Just don’t overdo it.”
“I won’t,” he said with a smile as he rubbed a twinge in his stiff back. He glanced again at the envelope in his hand. “What’s this?” Harris asked of her as he tore the envelope open.
“We found that clutched in your hand on the night you came in. We figured that it must important to you since we nearly had to pry your hand open to get it out.” Harris reached into the envelope and pulled out the contents therein. At first, he didn’t recognize it at all. Then, memories came flooding back. He had seen this object before, just moments before the explosion. It was a piece of jewelry. It was an ankh.
The End
By G. D. Garman
Harris was bored to death. His job was so tedious that he could barely make it through the day without yawning in his co-worker’s faces. He had been working here in this contractor’s office running the same blueprint machine for two years now. When he had taken this job, he had expected to do this for a few months and was led to believe that he would move up into a better position as soon as one opened. He had the training to be a draftsman, but was told by every office in town that there were no openings at the time. So, he had taken a position here with the understanding that he would get the next opening that came along. This had not turned out to be the case. So, here he was in a dead-end job that promised nothing but tedium for the rest of his days.
He finished setting up the printer for the day and started the first run of blueprints. As soon as he got them developing, he took a short break to go get a cup of coffee. As usual, once he got to the break room, he found the same slackers that always hung out there on a regular basis. It was so unfair, that these freeloaders got the job he had earned. As usual here was Roger, gabbing away. Roger was new, being hired only six months ago, and he was the laziest individual that Harris had ever met. He spent the greater part of the day here, sipping his hot brew while gossiping with others. That job should have been his, but Roger had gotten it because he was the boss’s nephew. To Harris, he was just a waste of oxygen. The man produced next to nothing. He rarely saw any drawings come over for transcription from the man. He was a true freeloader that was for sure.
Then, there was Pamela Sleaze or sneeze, or whatever her last name was, Harris wasn’t sure. She was only five foot, but weighed about two hundred and fifty pounds if she weighed an ounce. She was almost as bad as Roger in her gossiping. She always had some tidbit of scandalous news to tell and Harris doubted that any of her stories were anything but bull. She acted so superior to everyone that it made him want to puke in her face. Now that would be a sight he would pay to see.
He looked around and sure enough there were the butch twins. Shirley and Barbara were always together when they weren’t at their desks. Everybody knew that they were lesbians. Harris didn’t hold that against them though. ‘To each their own’ was his motto. What bothered him about them was that they always tried to suck up to the foreman. Every thing that came out of his mouth was golden, according to them. When he was around, they doted on every word that he said. But, when he wasn’t around, they always talked down about him, accusing him of everything from lechery to perversion. They always claimed that he was continually trying to look down their blouses or watching them bend over. It didn’t seem like all that much of a crime to him. If they bend over to show it, why shouldn’t the boss enjoy the fringe benefits? He seriously doubted that Mr. Sylvan paid near as much attention to them as they claimed. Some people just need to be the center of attention.
Suddenly, he spied a new face in the crowd. A young woman was at the coffee pot pouring a cup, and just as Harris spotted her, she turned towards him and he got a clear look at her. She was exquisitely beautiful. Her clear golden skin was flawless and her shining blue eyes were so captivating that as she glanced up at him, he was instantly mesmerized. He couldn’t even try to look away from that gaze that promised the world in sexual pleasure. Within them he saw the girl next door in innocence as well as the most enticing sexpot that ever existed. There was a burning heat of desire that lit every fire within him to a blaze that threatened to consume him. He was frozen in a stare that was impossible to turn away from. She had to be the most beautiful woman in the world and he found that at that second, he would do anything to possess her. No cost would be too much to have her. He would gladly die in the next instant just to spend one night with her. Then, her turning away to return to her work area broke the spell.
Who was she? Why had he become so obsessed in just an instant? Never had he been so completely taken by a woman in his whole life. He was confused by his own desires for her. He felt as though she had somehow captured his soul in an instant and now he couldn’t help himself. He was a slave to his primal urges.
Harris shook his head to clear it and went to the lavatory to throw cold water on his face. The coolness helped to clear his mind, but still, the memory of her face haunted him. Her beauty kept stealing into his consciousness. He would never be able to forget her gaze, and so he decided to go find her later and talk to her to see what might come of it. After his decision, Harris felt better and was able to return to work. When the opportunity arrived, he would act upon his desires, and so he could be patient for now.
The rest of his workday went on in its usual dreariness and although he frequently was reminded of the woman’s face, he was able to turn his focus from her for now. As the afternoon wore on, his co-workers began to leave for the day and his workload began to wane. When he was the only one left in the office, he began to prepare to shut down the blueprint developer once the last sketch had been loaded. When this task was done, he would then be able to leave for the day.
As he reached for the switch to turn off the big machine he was distracted by a presence behind him. He turned to find the young woman he had seen earlier standing before him. Her beautiful smile and luscious eyes were still as captivating as he remembered. When he looked again into those eyes, the hidden message he had intuited renewed and he found that he could not look away. She was incredibly gorgeous. He felt his own will slipping away as he began to fall into those orbs of passion.
“Hi,” she said in the most sensual manner imaginable. Harris wanted instantly to take her in his arms and smother her with kisses. But found that he could not move.
“Hello,” he returned in a cracked voice that mimicked a hormonal adolescent. She reached up to play with the shiny object that hung around her neck. Harris was momentarily distracted by the action and glanced at the object to see was an ankh. When she flipped it between her fingers, the movement of her hands enthralled him. Her every move stirred him with enticement. She radiated sex with every breath. “What can I do for you,” he asked. She smiled before answering. Her smile was as intoxicating as a double shot of whiskey. It made him feel dizzy as though he had been drugged by some odd narcotic. The rest of the world faded from his consciousness and the only thing on his mind was the face of this wondrous beauty before him.
“It’s what I can do for you,” she replied. “Don’t you hunger for some… excitement?” She continued to advance towards him slowly without taking her eyes from his. Her eyes continued to promise him untold riches of lust. They promised him endless amounts of ecstasy… Of primal dreams unheard of in the conscious mind. Only a man’s Id could promise such desires to be fulfilled. His inner beast begged to be freed to ravage her.
“I… I suppose so,” he answered with almost no breath. Suddenly, he was stopped in his retreat by running into a small table that sat in the corner. He glanced back for a split second and when he looked up he saw her coming at him with a wider smile that revealed huge fangs protruding from the roof of her mouth. Fear sent a sudden shot of adrenalin into his body making Harris jump in response. When he landed, he tripped over his feet to fall on top of the small table. He felt it collapse under him and landed on his back on the floor with the broken legs protruding up beside him. He looked up again to see the woman throwing herself at him all at once and with out thought, he grasped the table leg beside him to pull it forward. The voluptuous creature seeking to bite him landed atop that splintered piece of wood and became impaled. She stopped at once and looked down at her pierced chest and died with a sudden cough.
Harris was revolted by the site of the creature that was still atop him and pushed the grizzly thing aside to get up beside the developer. Then, without warning, the woman’s body exploded throwing him into the machine where he landed on top of a pipe. He felt the pipe give way under him and when it broke off it released the ammonia from within. Harris gasped, sucking in the ammonia vapor and then lost consciousness as it took his breath completely away.
∑
His consciousness wandered in and out in a haze that he could not pierce. Little moments of sensation came and went as he felt pain from time to time, but he was unable to focus on what was hurting. Every time he would begin to arouse from that dark well of unconsciousness, a new blanket would be added to darken his world again. It seemed that he was kept a prisoner in that dark world for such a long time that he began to wonder if he was in fact dead. Either that or this was the longest nightmare he had ever experienced.
An unknown time later, he found himself beginning to surface from that well of darkness. The first thing he realized was that his throat was killing him. He must have been horribly injured somehow. He reached up to grasp his neck but found no evidence of injury. He then opened his eyes to see that he was in a hospital room and that he was not alone. A tall silver haired man was standing beside the bed looking down on him.
“How are you feeling?” he asked in a deep bass voice. Harris tried to respond, but found it very hard to make any sound whatsoever. “Don’t worry; your voice will get better in time. Having that tube down your throat for a week does make it a little rough on the vocal chords.” Harris shook his head to clear it.
“What happened?” Harris asked in a bare whisper.
“You were caught in an explosion and asphyxiated by industrial ammonia. I’m afraid that your lungs were burned, so we had to keep you on machinery to help you breathe until your lungs healed enough to sustain you again. You were quite lucky that someone else was in the building when it occurred. If you had lain there any longer, you would have been in a pine box right now instead of this comfortable bed.”
“You said that I’ve been here for a week?” Harris inquired.
“Yes,” replied the doctor. “We had to keep you sedated to allow your lungs to heal. It’s a bad thing to get your lungs burned. Most people don’t survive it. It was a break for you that you didn’t inhale very much of the caustic liquid. The burns were not as serious as they could have been. How are you feeling now?” Harris thought for a moment before responding.
“Like a truck ran over me,” he replied. He managed a small chuckle as the doctor laughed. Suddenly, he remembered what had brought him to this present situation and fear crept into his mind. “What happened to the woman who was with me?”
“There was nobody else with you when you came in. I was on duty when you were admitted and I would have known if anyone else had been brought in with you. I was told that you were alone in the whole wing when the explosion occurred. Why? Do you remember something about the accident?”
“I thought I did. I remembered this beautiful woman being there. It seems that she was chasing me or something.”
“Well, don’t take anything like that seriously. The stuff that you were knocked out with causes some wild hallucinogenic dreams. I had a patient once that claimed he went through the end of the world while being drugged. Another one thought that he had gotten married to a famous model while he was under and wanted to know where his wife was. Don’t worry about it; your head will clear soon. Well, I have to go. I’ll send in the nurse with something to drink to soothe your raw throat. Just be patient and we’ll have you out of here in a couple of days.” With that, he was left alone with his thoughts for company. Was that girl all just a dream? She must have been; there were no such things as vampires any way. Besides, it was still light out when his encounter happened. Weren’t vampires supposed to be nocturnal? What an imagination he had! Vampires! What was next, Gremlins?
He sat up on the side of the bed and looked around the room. It did feel good to be sitting up. He spotted a pile of clothes sitting on a table beside his bed. He recognized them as the ones he was wearing on the day of the accident. On top was an envelope. He reached over to pick it up just as a nurse walked in.
“Where do you think you are going?” she asked in a stern voice.
“Nowhere,” he replied. “I was just looking around. God, it feels good to be out of that bed.”
“I can imagine,” she replied. “Just don’t overdo it.”
“I won’t,” he said with a smile as he rubbed a twinge in his stiff back. He glanced again at the envelope in his hand. “What’s this?” Harris asked of her as he tore the envelope open.
“We found that clutched in your hand on the night you came in. We figured that it must important to you since we nearly had to pry your hand open to get it out.” Harris reached into the envelope and pulled out the contents therein. At first, he didn’t recognize it at all. Then, memories came flooding back. He had seen this object before, just moments before the explosion. It was a piece of jewelry. It was an ankh.
The End
Introduction
Greetings to everyone.
I am a new author trying to get my first book published so please indulge me as I intend to use this as a test site and all of you as my test subjects. I hope you don't mind being lab rats, but I will be posting short stories here from time to time and I humbly ask that if you read one, please send me your comments. I don't mind constructive criticism. I will also post the prologue and first chapter of my first complete novel. It is the first of a series called "The Fate of Evil." It is plotted so far for six books. Each has its own mystery and story line, but there is a background plot that will evolve to become the basis of the last book in the series. I have written more than a dozen short stories and have had several published in a local Central Florida magazine called LOP magazine. I am however currently working on a very different project (different for me anyway). I am writing a comedy that is a work of fiction based on the many unusual events occurring throughout my 30 year nursing career. You see, I am a newly retired critical care RN having 30 years of service in my past and now as I retire I can follow my lifelong dream of writing fiction. My first love though is Horror and Sci-Fi although I have been known to read just about any type of book ever written. I will soon begin to post some of my writing here on this Blog site for you to read at your pleasure. I will even post some excerpts from my new comedy novel. Feel free to send me any comments you have. G. D. Garman
I am a new author trying to get my first book published so please indulge me as I intend to use this as a test site and all of you as my test subjects. I hope you don't mind being lab rats, but I will be posting short stories here from time to time and I humbly ask that if you read one, please send me your comments. I don't mind constructive criticism. I will also post the prologue and first chapter of my first complete novel. It is the first of a series called "The Fate of Evil." It is plotted so far for six books. Each has its own mystery and story line, but there is a background plot that will evolve to become the basis of the last book in the series. I have written more than a dozen short stories and have had several published in a local Central Florida magazine called LOP magazine. I am however currently working on a very different project (different for me anyway). I am writing a comedy that is a work of fiction based on the many unusual events occurring throughout my 30 year nursing career. You see, I am a newly retired critical care RN having 30 years of service in my past and now as I retire I can follow my lifelong dream of writing fiction. My first love though is Horror and Sci-Fi although I have been known to read just about any type of book ever written. I will soon begin to post some of my writing here on this Blog site for you to read at your pleasure. I will even post some excerpts from my new comedy novel. Feel free to send me any comments you have. G. D. Garman
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