New Skin

It is strange how such a little drop of goo can cause such pain at the same time that it begins the healing process. Strange how a small point of pain spreads with application to cause widespread throbbing, intense pain. What a strange invention, a single swipe provides you with protection and essentially a new skin to protect your wounds as your own skin heals and regrows. And I suppose it is an improvement, at least we are not using superglue anymore to close a cut in a pinch. The included antiseptic is also an improvement, sanitation is a big thing these days. I wish they would add a numbing agent to it as well.

Chain of Civilization

O necessary chain of civilization I spurn you!

Small you are; and growing smaller year by year. I shall have no leash to tie me to the world. When I walk about, I wish and want no interruptions. And I thumb my nose at you; you who would connect me to work. Ha Ha, you can not reach me. I have no need of you, with your bright lights, buzzes and rings, alarms, cameras, and now internet and music. I refuse to be cowed into admitting you to my presence until I deem it to be a necessity. So leave me be, I heed not your siren call.

A Meeting in the Mists

Mist and smoke shifted between Heran and the malevolent presence in the dark before him. All that Heran could see were the eyes that burned with an inner light, the presence in the dark was immense, he could at least sense that.

Heran strained his eyes to make out who he was talking to. "Why do you seek a fool?"

The rasping, growling voice came to him again, "to do my bidding in the mortal world."

"And what will I get out of this?" Heran sounded braver than he felt at the moment. He could hear the shifting of hot gravel under the presence, it grated against his ears and made him shudder involuntarily.

"You will get to live, and I will give you what you have been seeking." The promise coming from this 'person' sounded more like a threat.

'I should have never come here.' The Elders warned me about coming, they told me that if I should get what I desire, it may not be what I expected. That in seeking the Cliffs of Fate, it would seal upon me the Fate that was handed to me. But I had disregarded their advice, thinking that I knew better, that I could master fate.

Heran wanted to leave, but he felt the bindings that he had not noticed before. The bindings that had wound around his mind, ensnaring him, rooting him to the spot. He could not leave now even if he wanted to.

"What would you have me do?" Heran sounded resigned.

"All in good time, fool."

"At least show me who you are."

A low chuckle rumbled out of the mists, and the ground shuddered as the figure took a step closer. "Look upon your new master."

Heran wanted to run screaming but he was still held in place by the powerful figure before him. Black leathery skin clung to bulging muscles and steam curled from it's snout. Wickedly sharp claws were only surpassed by the gleaming rows of teeth. Vast wings were curled around his body and his tail swished from side to side.

The black Dragon of legends.

Interrupted Thoughts

The set was over with. Alastrina knew that he would not be singing again tonight. I wonder why he is so familiar. Why I can't get his out of my mind.

Alastrina flagged down a passing waiter and asked for a refill on her drink. She was not sure why she stayed; every night after she had heard him sing it was like all the other performers were flat, lifeless, almost 2D in their lack of depth. She ruminated on her problem as she stared into her drink, the ice sending out nearly invisible currents in the amber liquid. She had tried asking around to find out who he was, but no one seemed to be able to tell her. He didn't get paid for singing so the manager never needed to know his name, and as far as she was able to determine from everyone else he just seemed to vanish after he was done with his set.

"Excuse me, may I sit with you?" A deep voice said, breaking into her revery.

Startled, Alastrina looked up from her drink, a quick glance around let her know that the club was packed, and that her booth was one of the last spots that could be occupied. She looked the man over once. He was in blue jeans that hung perfectly on his hips, a black long sleeve shirt with the cuffs pushed up his forearm. He had black eyes under dark eyebrows. His hair was equally as black short on the sides and slightly longer on the top. His sculpted lips were quirked in a small smile that Alastrina found familiar, but couldn't place.

She nodded once and the man slid into the other side of the booth.

"My name is Patrick."

A Kind Deed

He couldn't believe that she was dying, and there was nothing that he could do about it. He looked on her sallow face, the light reflecting off of her bare scalp. The treatments had really taken it out of her. He knew she didn't have much time left.
Her breathing had become that much labored even over the last few hours he didn't think that she would last the night.

Sara's eyes fluttered open one last time and she smiled up at him. "I love you Kyle."
~~~~~~~~~

Sara snuck out of the hospital, the drugs that they had given her had worn off and she had come too in the morgue. She didn't know or care what body they would put in the casket, if they put in any body at all. Sara ran her hand over her scalp and muttered darkly, it would take a while for it to grow to a respectable length.
~~~~~~

Sara found it impossible to not go to the funeral, to say goodbye to a life. 'How cliche' she thought as the rain began to come down in the middle of the service. She was wearing a wig and standing in the back, no one would notice another body under all the umbrellas that were being opened.

Sara caught sight of Kyle, he was kneeling beside the grave after the others had trickled away, crying. She was sorry to hurt him again, even though he didn't know that the original hurt had come from her, she had hurt him again and she felt a stab of regret.

As she turned to go she realized that she had lied.

And when I go, he will never know that I never loved him.

Yet Another Beginning

David settled back on the seat, thinking over what he had been told. He would become like this man. Strong, capable, someone people could look up to.

They drove in silence, picking up speed as the hit the highway, leaving the city behind, leaving behind his revenge.

"So where are we going?" DAvid asked eventually.

"A training facility." The man didn't take his eyes off the road.

"Where is it?"

"Far away."

"Can you at least tell me your name?"

The man glanced at David briefly, "Hayes, commander Hayes."

"Who do you work for?" David sounded tired, more and more as if he didn't care.

"Officially, we work with the Marines."

David shrugged, the brief spark of life that was in his eyes was dimming again, he huddled back in his seat, withdrawing into himself. After a while he dozed off, the stress of the day getting the better of him.

Hayes looked over at his passanger. "Some wounds go to deep, but eventually they do scar over," he said to the silence.

~~~~~~

David found himself being shaken awake. He sat up abruptly and rubbed his eyes, he stepped out of the car into the painfully bright, dry desert morning. The wind whistled over the barren landscape, and all David could see was scrub brush and cacti aside from a small bunker like hut.

"Come this way David," Hayes lead him towards the bunker and out of the daylight. "This will be your home for the next year or so if you decide to stay." Hayes said as he swiped a security badge and an elevator opened. "Remember you can always leave before you sigh up with us officially."

"I have no where to go, no one to go to." David said at last as the elevator opened onto an empty hallway.

"Yes, but what we do is not for everyone."

"I will have my revenge eventually?"

"Yes you will, but when that point comes, you may decide not to exact your revenge. You may find that you have changed and that you no longer need revenge."

"I doubt it."

First Sighting

"Hoist all sails!" The bosun called as the ship crept out of the safety of the harbor. The men on board were quick to obey the orders. They chanted in unison as they worked the sails, the call and the rhythm setting the pace. There was a chant for leaving the harbor and for coming in. There were many for short hauls, for halyarding , and for the capstan.

Men scuttled up the netting and out onto the yardarms, loosing the sails that would catch the wind. The men below hauled on the lines to put them in place.

The breeze was freshening and the day promising. The perfect day to be off on the sea; to wherever the wind and currents took them. The old men and the young men alike raised their voices in the chant to raise the sails. The broad squares of white cloth boomed as the wind caught them, filling and rapidly baring the ship away into the horizon.

Ryan pulled with the others, raising his clear tenor voice with the others. They were leaving and their song echoed over the sea.


In the Black Ball line I served my time
To me way-aye-aye, hurray-ah
And that's the line where you can shine
Hurrah for the Black Ball Line

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ryan tied off his line with the others to the chains. Ryan was just a midshipman, only one step above a cabin boy, but he wore his new uniform proudly. He had high hopes to have a commission before to much longer and he went about his work with a spring in his step.

"Mr. Raines!" The bosun hollered.

"Yes Sir?" Ryan hurried over to where the great bull necked man stood, adapting is gait to the particular roll of the ocean.

"You have watch in the nest." The bosun said as Ryan approached him. "Get up there and keep an eye out."

"Yes Sir!" Ryan saluted smartly and hurried over to the shrouds. Grasping the bottom most rope, Ryan began to pull himself up the precarious ladder to the nest, the pitch and roll of the ship becoming more pronounced the higher he climbed. The wind's fingers plucked at his hat and tossed his necktie into his face. He passed the men working on the yardarms, adjusting the tension of the sails for maximum speed, the men called friendly greetings to him as he passed.

Ryan climbed over the railing to the crows nest and took up the glass. There was no land behind them anymore, and none ahead that he could see. The wind raked through his sandy blond hair, his keen green eyes scanning the horizon. Below him he could hear the chanting of the line and he hummed along as he sat his post.

Ryan was scanning the sea when he caught on the edge of the horizon a ship. Bringing the glass to his eye he focused it on the ship. He cold see a field of black, white, and red on the flag or the other ship and his heart leapt.

"Bosun!" he hollered from the top of the mast, "Pirates to the port side!"

Ryan scuttled down the rigging as quickly as he could and took up arms to defend the ship as the Captain called, "Men to the ready!"