Night Fog

The creeping mists of the fog approached the train platform where he stood beside the circle of light flooding down from the lamppost, its grey metal pole reaching up into the night air.

Looking both directions away from the station he could see the empty train tracks stretch out into the darkness of the eerie, dense night fog.

Even though the winter night should have been cold and dry, the air around him was unusually warm and full of moisture, making him uncomfortably sweaty in his heavy parka.

The train was late, it had been a long day, and he was tired so the darkness and fog seemed to be playing tricks on his mind; they felt alive to him: a leviathan closing in on where he stood, threatening to envelop him into oblivion.

He knew this wasn't true; that he was letting his imagination get the better of him, but still, he moved fully into the sickly amber lamplight.

The light would keep him safe; he just needed to stay within the light.

But that fog still looked ominous; it continued to roll in, seeming to devour the train platform as it crept closer.

Soon there was nothing visible outside the scope of the lamppost's radiant circle of light.

Like in the mists of an intangible dreamscape, he was trapped by the dark grey mists that hemmed in around him.

There was a definite lumbering shape in the dense fog now, rumbling towards him like a nightmare creature come to snatch him away.

As the rumbling increased he began to yell out; scream out in unison with the deafening noise bearing down on him.

Rushing passed him, almost knocking him off balance with its gust of wind, the late night train pulled into the station, causing the misty fog to disperse in curling tendrils

As he realized it was just the train arriving, his screaming died away in the night air as the engine came to its squeaking stop and the doors slid open quietly.

To his side he saw the woman who had been standing on the platform with him the entire time and he motioned for her to step onto the train car first.

She gave him a worried look and opted to hop onto the adjacent car.

With a sigh he got on the train himself and slumped down into one of the empty seats.

It had been a very long day and he was very tired.

Shade

Once there was a little girl that lived in an old mansion at the top of a hill near the edge of town.
 

She wasn't like the other children of the town; while they went to school each day, and ran outside and played, she stayed inside the old house, with its high-reaching iron gates that gave it a foreboding and unwelcoming presence.

 

From a window on one of the upper floors she watched the goings on of the town's children, safely in the shadows through the telescope her parents had given her a long time ago.

 

She watched and observed them as they skipped happily to school with their friends in the mornings, and in the afternoons when their parents would come to meet them on their way home.

 

It was a very idyllic town and its townsfolk were happy and content, even with the looming shadow that old mansion cast down upon it from the hill above.

 

Her parents had been from a prosperous family that had founded and owned many businesses in the town, but as long as everything ran smoothly, they were content to leave the town's people to themselves; as long as the same consideration was given to them. And so they paid the mansion on the hill very little mind.

 

It did make for a solitary life, though not a lonely life per sae, for she had a very inquisitive mind and she filled her days poring over the vast library of books that took up almost the entire second floor of the big house.

 

The books ran the range of subjects from the sciences, to literature, to philosophy, to even the occult. And the petite girl devoured them all; spending whole days sitting in the library's old leather chair that made her look even tinier against its high back and arms.

 

On other days she would run experiments in the cellar's homemade laboratory her parents had commissioned built to fuel her inquisitive predisposition.

 

Finding an interesting idea or theory in one of her books, she would test and confirm the results, and even in quite a few cases, improve upon the original hypothesis.

 

Yet, when she did make her observations out of the window through the lenses of her long telescope, she did yearn to be able to get a closer look at her subjects; purely for scientific reasons.

 

Alas, because of her condition, she could not venture out into the light of day.

 

Very many of her scientific experiments revolved around the problem of her affliction, even if she wouldn't admit it to herself, yet the solution always seemed to elude her.

 

Until she came upon an antiquated book in the mystical section of the library that was a compendium of ancient folk lore and magic tales.

 

She sometimes read these books as a break from the headier subject matter she usually delved into, yet, one of the tales sparked an interest in her. For it might indeed lend itself as an at least aid to her condition.

 

Taking the large tome down to her workshop lab, she proceeded to gather the materials needed to create the described subject found upon the thick, yellowed pages.

 

The process took several days and involved a number of stages of setting and waiting for the setting to take hold, not to mention the numerous incantations that needed to be spoken aloud in the ancient tongues in which the book had been written in order to complete the entire process properly.

 

But being very studious and meticulous, of course the small girl recited them and performed the rituals proscribed perfectly.

 

Once she had completed the process, the girl had only to wait for the light of a specific phase of the moon to see if her efforts would be fruitful.

 

So one clear, midsummer evening, as she sat reading in the library, the moon shone in the night sky, its pale light flooding through the high paned windows, the sound of heavy clomping came from the stairs leading up from the cellar.

 

Marking her place and putting her book aside, the girl watched the doorway as the approaching footfalls came closer along the hallway outside.

 

Filling the entirety of the library's large doorway frame, a great clay Golem stood staring down at the tiny girl from out its hollow eye sockets.

 

With no hesitation or fear, she walked over to the humongous creature to inspect her work as a crafter would a piece of equipment they had engineered.

 

After looking the creature over thoroughly, she gave a nod to herself, satisfied with the results; so far. She would have to wait until the next day to really test her theory out.

 

With that, she bade the lumbering hulk to stand outside her bed chamber door, a silent sentinel as she lay down, unable to sleep in anticipation of the next day's potential.

 

By the time the dawn sun rose, she was cranky with no sleep, but arose quickly and dressed in the cloak and delicate lace veil her mother had given to her but she had never had the opportunity to wear except whenever she was restless to go outside and tried them on, only to be made upset at the fact she could not have used them properly.

 

But on this day! This day, she donned the outfit to go out into the world at last.

At least, she hoped.

 

Opening the door to the hallway, she found the Golem still standing as she left it, and motioned for it to let her step up onto its massive open palm in order to be able to reach up and place a tightly rolled scroll of parchment into its open mouth.

 

Stepping back down from its outstretched hand, the girl proceeded to head downstairs toward the front entrance, the big Golem lumbering behind with its clomping feet thumping on the hardwood floors.

 

Peering out the intricately blown glass windows of the double doors of the main entrance, the girl felt nervous at the prospect of actually setting foot outside in the bright sunlight, but her confidence in her methods bolstered her courage and she looked up over her shoulder to the big clay figure behind her and nodded to it, then opened the doors.

 

Stepping out onto the stone steps of the front of the house that led down to the seldom used driveway, the little girl was hesitant.

 

Then a shadow was cast over her from above and she looked back to confirm her Golem had taken out its gigantic parasol to completely engulf her in its shade.

 

Taking another experimental step out further into the outside, she heard the thump of the Golem's matching footfall.

 

One after the other, its foot steps matched hers in perfect synchronicity.

 

When she stopped, it stopped. When she started again, it started; all the while, holding the huge parasol aloft so that she always remained in its shade.

 

The industrial sized umbrella was constructed of heavy canvas and steel, which made it weigh too much for any normal being to convey.

 

Yet, the Golem hefted it in the air with ease, and so it made it the perfect companion to accompany the lone, little girl into the bright light of the world.

 

She looked out at the town that lay passed the wrought iron bars of the gates at the end of the drive and was filled with excitement at being able to open them and venture outside their confinement at long last.

 

After all these many years of living alone, she was going to be amongst the people she had only observed from her high window.

Within the shade of her Golem, the eternally youthful looking girl smiled broadly, her sharp, white fangs in stark contrast to her blood-red lips.

Time Crimes

 I built a time machine to stop a madman. He came from the future to alter the past and ruined the present. He came in the night, raving about fixing things; things that he had gotten wrong.

Only a small thing it had seemed at the time, and yet, by changing that one, insignificant detail, he had altered the course of events that would soon lead to catastrophic results for the entire world.

Who knows for what ends the madman had calculated; perhaps he had wanted to plunge the world into chaos, perhaps it had been just a simple miscalculation.

Whatever the reasons for his actions, the one thing he did not count on was that I had witnessed his mad scheme that night, and that I would travel across and space to put an end to it.

It took me years to recreate his time machine from memory and figure out how to traverse time with it, and by the time I had finally completed my work the world had been plunged into chaos and was now an apocalyptic waste land. I myself had lost so much and so many people I loved, my heart had become a barren waste as well.

There was only hatred in me now; hatred of the man from the future and how he had selfishly taken everything away from the world; from me.

Once I had the machine up and running, I calculated where and when would give the best possible chance to stop the madman's evil plans and I entered the coordinates into the time machine's navigation computer.

It only took a fraction of a moment and I was back in the past, to a time before the world had begun its descent into ruin.

I changed what I figured needed to be changed and was back in the time machine in only a few moments, ready to go back and see if my future had been fixed.

Apprehensively, I pushed the recall button and the machine returned to the exact time and place I had started from.

Nothing had changed, it hadn't worked; my future was still in shambles.

Furious at my failed attempted to right whatever wrong that madman had perpetrated on the past, I went back to try again.

That attempt failed.

So again I went back; again and again, over and over, each attempted failing to make any change in the future.

Each failed attempt was maddening and I became obsessed with getting it right; there had to be a way I thought, one little change that would repair all of what the madman had done!

I made hundreds of trips back, until the one which I came back in the night, going over all of the mistakes I had made, raving to myself about fixing the timeline.

Making my adjustments hastily, I headed back to the time machine to return to the future once again and hopefully see a positive result, and I saw him.

Through the flashing blue electricity that the time machine created to travel along, I saw a figure looking back at me with amazement, just before I winked out of the past.

It had been me.

I had been the madman all those years ago that the younger me from the past had seen.

In my astonishment of the revelation I stopped the time machine in mid-journey; paused in time and space.

Before me, out the view window, the entirety of what I had done was laid out so clearly now.

All my efforts to change the future by changing the past had been in vain. For sprawling outside my precious time machine, in plain sight, were all the different branches of timelines. Each branch leading to a new future I would not be a part of.

In some I had succeeded and the future was bright; in others, most others, my meddling had only made things much worse.

In almost all the timelines I had become the villain; the raving madman I had sought to put an end to.

Only now, here, high above the branches and offshoots of time, could I see it: the only way to fix it all.

Setting a new trajectory, I sped back down to where all the branches had split in the first place; careening toward the very moment I had broken time.

Shockwaves rippled away from the machine as I tore back through the fabric of space-time, on a collision course with me final destiny.

Screeching through the past, a sphere rocketed down from the sky towards where I stood in the dimly-lit street; the same clear-glass sphere as the one sitting in the dark alley in front of me.

In a terrific explosion of glass and blue sparks, the spheres collided and were completely obliterated in a blast wave that blew me off my feet.

Landing in a large pile of garbage bags on the street curb, I stared dumbfounded at the space where the two spheres had been.

Where there should have been flaming wreckage, there was only a shimmering opening, hanging strangely in the air above the wet alleyway.

Getting up out of the bags of trash, I approached the opening cautiously until I could just poke my head through the wavering opening and look at what was on the other side.

Instead of what should have been just the other end of the alley, was a void of sorts, with an infinite number of identical openings; all of them with another version of me, peeking their heads through.

"What the f..." was all we could get out before all time folded in on itself and the tears in space-time closed up, sucking everything in with a blip.

This time, only a passing stray dog was there to hear the faint noise of the timeline correcting itself. It relieved itself on the big pile of garbage bags and continued on its merry way.

Queen of the Woods

Sunlight flits through the canopy of green that covers the forest as the Queen of the Woods moves among the tress on her early morning sortie to awaken the woodlands to the new day.

Her bare feet gently brushing the forest floor as she hovers along; the fallen leaves and pine needles tickling her toes making her giggle and show her warm smile.

At the sound of her mirthful laughter, the flowers begin to open their blooms as she passes by, gingerly touching their soft pedals with the tips of her fingers, causing the colours of each one to further deepen in richness for their Queen.

The many creatures inhabiting the woods emerge from their cozy dens in the tall trees or burrows in the soft ground to greet their Mistress with chirps and calls of excitement.

Smiling broadly as she passes her woodland subjects, the Queen of the Woods spins around in the air, her ephemeral sundress twirling around, swirling the leaves and needles and grasses up with a merry rustling sound, bringing more creatures out from their night-time refuges.

Lifting her arms up, the Queen beckons her realm to come alive and not be afraid, for the sun has risen and her sister, the Night Queen's time has passed for another day.

Coming to an ancient tress stump, she steps gently down onto the soft ground and sits regally, a true Queen on her throne.

The soft breeze continues to tussle her flowing hair about as if she still moved, causing her to radiate with constant life and beauty; puffs of pollen dancing in the breeze around her wooden-crowned head.

Bunnies, chipmunks, sparrows, moose, birds, bears, and all manner of her animal subjects gather around her as she greets them one and all with a beaming smile and melodious laughter as shafts of golden sunlight shine down upon her; illuminating her with brilliance.

All forgetting the fearful night as their Queen has come to protect them in the new day's light.

All unaware, that from within the shadows still hidden from the light between some of the older gnarled, closely growing trees, the Night Queen watches.

Night's dark eyes full of contempt for her sister sitting surrounded by her loving rabble of simpering creatures; she too had loyal subjects, the creeping, slithering, scuttling beasts of the night; some of which moved over the skin of her bare legs and feet as she stood cloaked in shadows.

And soon, they would be let loose on the world of the sunlight to vanquish the day and turn it forever into night.

Soon, the Night Queen thought, backing further into the darkness, her malevolent grin full of starkly white teeth glistening bright.

Untitled Comic Book

-Doctor's Office-

Bill sits quietly on the examining table of the sterile doctor's office, wearing a paper hospital gown and his black dress socks.

His wife Sherri sits in the padded chair next to the table and holds his hand tightly as the doctor sitting across from them tells them the results of the testing.

Sherri starts to cry and holds onto Bill's arm as she tries to burry her face into his leg.

Bill only nods and stares in shock at the thick-rimmed glasses the doctor wears as the words fade out, replaced by a buzzing in his ears.

-Car Ride-

Driving in their car, Bill goes through the motions of steering cautiously, taking the side roads home, but his expression is the same blank look of shock; Sherri continues to cry in the passenger seat.

-Kitchen Table-

Bill sits at the table in their quaintly decorated kitchen as Sherri cooks a healthy breakfast to set in front of him. But Bill only glances at the delicious looking food then stares out the kitchen window at the grey landscape outside.

Sherri stands beside him with her hand on his shoulder, staring at the bleak view with him.

-Bathroom-

Looking at his reflection in the mirror, Bill sees how tired he looks; dark circles growing even darker under his watery eyes.

He opens the medicine cabinet to reveal shelves full of prescription pill bottles, which he chooses several of and starts taking a different sized pill from each with a heavy sigh.

-Hospital-

In the dimly lit chemotherapy room, a slightly more tired and thinner Bill reclines in a comfortable chair along side others in a row; all occupied with people receiving their doses of medicine intravenously; all at different stages of their illness.

-Bathroom-

Back at home, a pale, freshly shaven bald image of Bill stares back at him in the mirror as he closes the medicine cabinet with his daily plethora of pills to choke down.

He begins to cough and sputter, holding onto the counter for support as blood sprays from his mouth and splatters the white sink bowl.

Bill looks weakly at his reflection, which is now also splattered with blood specks.

-Bedroom-

In the darkened bedroom, a skinny, grey-skinned Bill lies in bed and begins to cough until he leans over the side of the bed to throw up in the garbage pail sitting beside the bed.

Sherri stands in the doorway clutching a washcloth, looking haggard and drained as she watches Bill wretch in pain; her eyes red and raw from crying.

-Hospital-

Lying in a hospital bed, grey light coming through the thin curtains covering the windows to the left, an emaciated Bill struggles to breathe as tubes and wires connect him to all manner of machines surrounding the head of the bed.

Around the room, amongst the many bouquets of flowers, his friends and family stand and sit, filling the room, making him seem even smaller and skeletal in his inclined bed.

Sherri sits beside him and holds his hand gently as she stares into his barely opened, milky eyes.

The monitor to the right of Bill's head beeps rhythmically as the digital line spikes with each heartbeat; but soon the spikes get weaker and weaker until they flat line and the beeps turns into a long tone.

Sherri breaks down and buries her head into the crook of Bill's neck as he lies peacefully with his eyes closed; the others in the room move to put a hand on the two of them or hug one another.

For a long moment everyone weeps quietly in the stillness of the hospital room; mourning.

Then the heart monitor tone stops its long droning sound and the beeps weakly begin again.

Bill takes a deep breath as Sherri pulls back and looks into his surprised eyes; the milky haze fading away as they return to their normal emerald green shade.

Doctors and nurses come in to check on Bill as the rest of the room looks on in stunned silence.

Bills pulls at the tubes he is connected to and the Doctors try to calm him as he struggles to sit up; the nurses usher the others out so the doctors can figure out what's happening.

Sherri tries to stay by his side, but is helped out as well, still looking at Bill's now vibrant eyes.

-Hospital Later-

The hospital room is now brighter and cheerful with the colour of the many flowers adding to the happy scene.

Bill sits up in his bed, eating and laughing as his family and friends gather around again, joining in his merriment.

Sherri sits beside him, beaming with joy as Bill wolfs down his mushy hospital food.

The tubes and monitors are all gone and the doctors confrere with each other in the corner, confounded by their charts.

-Home-

Sherri opens the curtains in the living room as Bill opens the blinds in the bed room and looks out on the sunny back yard of green grass and blossoming lilac trees.

His skin no longer grey and sallow, he smiles and breathes a heavy, long breath as Sherri comes in behind him to put her arms around him in a happy embrace.

He turns to hold her in his arms and kisses her deeply.

The two laugh and giggles as they fall onto the bed and out of vision from the window.

-Kitchen-

Bill, now back to his healthy normal self, sits on a chair wearing shorts and a t-shirt lacing up his running shoes.

Sherri shuffles into the kitchen sleepily, still in her slippers and bathrobe to make coffee, shaking her head at how early it is.

Bill jumps up to kiss her good-bye and runs out the back door, full of energy as Sherri yawns, still shaking her head at him.

-Early Morning Street-

The sun, still just rising in the early morning sky, shines its glow on the tree-lined street as Bill jogs along the sidewalks listening to music in his headphones.

He approaches some garbage cans left out from the night before and leaps over them, laughing to himself and he jogs on.

-Grassy Hilltop-

On a hill top overlooking the city below, Bill comes up over the crest and stops to take in the scene.

Looking over the horizon as the sun rises higher behind him, Bill smiles at the new day; he beams with happiness as he looks healthier than ever.

After a few moments enjoying the scenery he heads back down the trail toward home.

-Tree-lined Street-

Back on the streets, Bill jogs along the sidewalk, signing along to his music as he crosses a street at the crosswalk.

Without warning, a car slams into Bill with a skid and a crunching thud.

The driver gets out of the car dazed from the airbag deploying in their face and rounds the front of the car, concerned at what they have hit.

The hood and grill are crumpled with steam billowing out from the engine underneath.

Startled, the driver stops in their tracks to find Bill standing in front of the car, the first few feet of the hood buckled in around him as if the car had impacted with an unyielding lamp post.

Bill stares in shock at the damage cause to the vehicle, yet there was not even a scratch on him anywhere.

"What the hell?" The confused driver asks of Bill.

Bill looks up at the driver as if just realizing they were there.

"Sorry..." Bill stammers as he pulls himself free of the car with a ripping of metal and runs off down the street, heading toward home; leaving the car wreck behind on the quiet neighbourhood street.

-End of Part One-

The Stone Wolves

Once there lived two strong and proud wolves that loved each other and made their way throughout the vast forests, hunting together as strong and proud wolves do.

Keeping to the deep woods, the wolves usually tried avoided people; not out of fear, but because people always made trouble, both for the animals of the land and for themselves.

Yet, on one hunt, their quarry brought them close to a modest hut, further into the forest than people usually made their homes. This was because the hut belonged to an old, cantankerous wizard who himself wanted to stay away from other people as well, for he found trouble for himself always.

And as of late, a pesky fox had been making trouble, poaching the wizard's chickens; so it was that when the wolves passed by the old sorcerer's wooded home, he was surveying the latest of the fox's crimes.

He spotted the grey and white wolves as they darted through the trees, stalking a majestic white-tailed buck that leapt and bounded ahead of them, and thought they had pilfered his meagre chickens.

His ire raised, the wizard took his anger out on the unlucky wolves, who would have been too proud to ever have resorted to robbing chickens from a pen, as it would be very low and undignified.

Casting a powerful spell with his crooked staff, the wizard blasted the wolves in a blinding flash of light that sent them both to the far ends of the immense forests, separated from each other; cursed to a life in the shadows.

For the spell the malevolent, old wizard had cast upon them would turn them to stone if they ever were touched with daylight again.

As soon as the wolves awoke from their abrupt journeys, they knew their fate in their hearts; if they felt the warmth of the sun's light again, they would be petrified.

Alone, with thousands of leagues between them, the wolves began to make their ways back to each other, for they also had a love in their hearts for one another that drew them together like a shimmering beacon.

Long, cold nights of travelling through the wild and thick woods they spent hunting alone for whatever creatures that were foolish enough to venture out in the darkness; fighting fierce battles with other predators that were the reason most of the animals feared to come out into the night, but their determination to get back to one another gave them the strength to persevere no matter the challenge.

Many moons passed and the two wolves had travelled such a long way, always careful to find shelter from the day before the sunrise broke through the forest's thick canopy of trees.

And though their arduous journeys were solitary and taxing, they never felt abandoned, for they could feel one another coming closer and closer as they made their way across the lands.

The pull of one another became stronger and stronger, until, after almost a year apart, the wolves could feel they were finally nearing the other and their hearts swelled with love.

All through the last night they both ran, the knowledge their lost love was close at hand drove them on, through their hunger, through their exhaustion; soon they would be together again and that was enough to keep them going.

Leaping and bounding up the last rocky slopes of the climbing forest ridge, they felt one another just over the next peak, and as they reached the crest of the hill, the trees abruptly ended and there was a clearing of sun-bleached stone ground.

Spotting one another breaking through the tree line, they sprinted with all their might towards each other; all thought of the early dawn light creeping over the horizon forgotten to their joy of reuniting with their lost love.

But their reunion was not meant to be, for as they came within a few last paces of one another, the sun's rays breached the horizon to their left and they stopped dead in their tracks; turned to solid stone by the wizard's curse.

So now it is that the stone wolves stand facing each other in the clearing at the top of the forest mound; strong and proud, they watch over one another, forevermore.

Death of the Demon King

Alas, tis a sad day, for our King is dead.

He had ruled over this dark domain for millennia on end, and brought such great suffering to the world; what a glorious reign!

Such pitiless plagues; such perverse pestilence He had spread across the land; not only corrupting the lands themselves, but the hearts and minds of the people who dared lived in the light.

Fa! Such fools! Did they think to resist His dark will!?

How could they have hoped to escape His dominance; so great it was.

Once was.

That will that had once been so powerful it felt as though it would crush the world in His dark grip, had begun to falter as of late.

For centuries passed, the world above had all but forgotten the darkness of below; relegating the realm of monsters and shadow to myths and legends.

And our King had become complacent, allowing the light to continue to radiate and grow.

Thus the time indeed had come for His long reign to come to and end; for myself to orchestrate a shadowy coup unseen.

So now, as I hold His head aloft for you all to see; severed by my own hand, honour him and mourn; the death of your great Demon King!

Rejoice, you dogs! And kneel! Bow before your terrible new Demon Queen!