New Fiction #5

So I am a member of this: http://novaroma.org/nr/Main_Page
And to show my enduring love for the Roman Republic, Empire and way of life, I've been working on a still ongoing story to showcase it but I'm having a bit of trouble capturing real Roman virtues and not demonizing them like everyone else.

Latin Names: Alecto is a Latin name used by Virgil in the Aeneid for one of The Furies but it is a female name. I didn't know that when I started this but now I do, however I still love the name so it stays for the guy. His siblings, in the beginning were named for the planets because I wanted their names to be easy to pronounce but I may change them to appear more Latin. Alecto's nieces and nephews are named for the constellations, I just found it fun. I use the name Gallo instead of Gallus simply because I think Gallo sounds better, and I'm trying to push the rooster meaning of the name instead of, of Gaul.

Setting: Roughly around 249 AD. History after Emperor Septimius Servus didn't happen, the Antonine Dynasty came back through great great great grandsons of Lucius Aurelius Verus, so the main family use the Aurelius name if only to tie them to Emperor Marcus Aurelius as great great great grandsons of his daughter Annia Aurelia Galeria Lucilla. I messed with some timelines so the Franks are a thing, Huns, vikings too for fun, and some characters are Christian and have Christian names, I changed character Daniel's name to Domitian to make it more Roman, although I believe Domitian is a surname and not a given name.

Notes: And there's a Pope as it is entirely fictional with historical facts when it comes to certain people like the Five Good Emperors. There is Italian in it rather than Latin, because this is fictional but I didn't want to do anything around the fall of Rome (though it does have some components from that era) but I wanted to show a Rome that was steadily changing somehow.


Chapter 1

Alecto lounged down in the upright chair, he sighed heavily to himself as he kicked his foot at nothing. He had been back for two months and was loathing every moment of it. His ships were hidden, his crew all gone home after many years at sea.....his wife....left him.
He didn't know what went wrong, what he did wrong, she wouldn't tell him. She didn't tell him much of anything, just that they both would benefit from being separated now. They had been separated before and he had promised himself then that it would never happen again.  
Yet it still happened.
He would do anything to see her happy, if being with him was no longer what she wanted, he would let her go to make her happy.  
And he did.
And he regretted it.
He spent nearly every day for the last month in tears, hidden away in his office or his bedroom when he wasn't working. He discovered upon his arrival that his brother, Saturnus, had taken another wife, one he swore to be his last. She had even spawned two children for him, two boys who were now adults. He wasn't sure how he felt about the expansion of his family, for the longest time it had just been him, Saturnus, their sister Venus with her husband and their seven children plus the adopted boy who became their eighth, all of them adults now.
They had grown so much and he hadn't been part of their lives at all, at the most he was the cruel uncle who they could remember but hadn't seen for the last near 30 years. He wasn't sure how he felt about that either, or the woman named Alexandria who claimed to be his bastard daughter birthed by that terrible Frankish woman, Isaline Marie.  
He sent that girl away with the truth. He sold her mother to a brothel, any man who ever fucked her could have been her father. The girl bolted in tears, he hoped that would be the last he saw of her. It was terrible enough that he could never get rid of Domitian, he didn't need the boy's half sister hanging around also.
He had been trying to keep himself busy by doing what he did best, be an accountant for the villa. He looked over the records, then re-looked them over then studied the older records from when his father had done the same. The decrease in wealth couldn't be ignored. When their father was still alive, they had been so wealthy but after he stopped being the accountant years ago, their funds had been drained away somehow.
It wasn't hard to figure out, Saturnus was horrible with money. Irresponsible actually, he wondered how Saturnus kept the villa intact for so long without his financial help.
It bothered him.
It worried him.
After Saturnus, there would only be children to take his place and he didn't think his brother's sons had it in them to rule efficiently, Saturnus didn't have that either. What was worse, was the decline of his brother's health.  Saturnus had always been healthy, always, he never even seen him sick or ill with a cough or cold but now.......the strength of his former years were drained from his face, leaving his strong masculine jawline jaunt and thin. He noticed his brother was having a hard time breathing, and an even harder time simply standing.
Before, he could get to his feet without a problem but now, it was as if every movement hurt him. His hands trembled ever so slightly that people of lesser skill wouldn't notice, but he knew his older brother well. His steps were slower, his eyes seemed vacant at times and he pondered if it was his very soul that was leaving his body causing his bouts of weakness. He hated the man, and perhaps this was divine punishment but he never thought he would see Saturnus like this.  
He never wanted to see him like this.
He hated to admit it but he always relied on his brother's strength to protect him from others, if he was so weak that he could barely stand without assistance, it would be more than himself that could never be protected by the king. The city itself was in danger. Saturnus needed someone to defend him now, to be his anchor, Alecto found despair in the change of the city, it was decaying. Roma needed both brothers to stand for it or else the Gallo famiglia would be emperors and kings no more.  
He looked through all of his father's belongings, nothing personal, just official records that dealt with the empire, when it had been a glorious empire.  
His father had taken extensive notes on the income of the city, what was worth keeping and what was worth dropping. Afterwards, he took a stroll around the city, the images he saw were not the ones found in his memories. It wasn't the same city he wandered around aimlessly at night while trying avoid heading home in his youth.  
There were no gardens, no colorful buildings, even the river he had visited so often as a child seemed small and less significant. It looked sick, he wasn't quite sure if a river could be ill but it was the first word that came to mind as he stood at the bank just staring at it. He had spent many years staring at this river, occasionally swimming in it, but he couldn't find the energy to do that now.
The river didn't look like it would accept a visitor.  
What saddened him most was that his beloved pack of wolves who used to own this side of the forest had disappeared. He looked for signs of the canines but found no traces, he tried calling the Alpha wolf by shouting out the title, king, which was what his father had endowed the Alpha with.  
The Alpha wolf was a king, the boy Alecto was a servant, a puppy, a kindred spirit who owed his life to the king Alpha. If the wolves had moved on then perhaps he should pack up and vacate again.
Without the pack of wolves, he felt a part of himself was already 
gone.
He couldn't leave though, his brother was dying, so was the city with him. He didn't fear for himself, he could live perfectly without being a prince inside Roma, it was his sister he feared for. What would happen to her and her family if the army suddenly disbanded? Libra couldn't be holding the current standards in high opinion, not when he watched it plummet so far down. What was Libra's life worth now without a competent military? What did he sacrifice so much flesh for if they city became a shadow of its former self? Where had all the ambition gone?
Hating it, he walked back to the villa to take another look at his father's record books and this time he would check if these businesses were still open and he would make new records of what should be saved and what could be lost.  

The woman's heart pumped madly in her chest at just the mere sight of the man who steadily strolled passed the crowded market. It was just a glimpse but she had spent many days and nights watching his stride, she wouldn't forget him. She had to see if it was really him, he had left so abruptly and to her knowledge hadn't returned, there was even a rumor that he was dead! She put down what she was holding in her hands to follow the man who hadn't conformed to modern fashion. He still wore the white toga with blue lines stripped across the bottom of the sleeves.
His skin was a bit darker than she remembered but it was him nonetheless, she pushed through people to keep up. His hair seemed a bit longer, a bit more curly and she could see facial hair run down the side of his face.  
She felt her heart rise even higher to the point of rejoicing, if this was who she felt it was, then he could help her, if he remembered her. He was the only one who could help her, he did say himself that she was a Roman like any other woman. She prayed that he remembered his own words.

Alecto sat in his office as he did most days, but this time, he sat in the visitors chair while his sister sat on the edge of his desk. Such a beautifully crafted desk, he doubted there were anymore craftsmen of this caliber around. Where did the peoples' love for luxury go?
Venus had delighted in her brother's return but her joyous feelings were short lived. His behavior changed, he looked sad all the time, constantly on the verge of tears and he was not a man prone to crying for any reason.  She was determined to get to the bottom of it, it was bad enough that her eldest brother was coming to meet his final days but she could not have both of her brothers be invalid. One had to be the strong one, and he was younger than Saturnus by 16 years.  
He loved his sister but his love and need of her companionship had been replaced by another by a more intimate form of love. He told her of his wife and how she just ended their close to twenty year relationship without ever giving him an explanation. He placed his head in his hands, stammering as he next spoke his words, "I don't want to keep crying over it but I can't stop myself. I used to be better than this."  
He meant he used to be unaffected, heartless.
She patted his shoulder making a suggestion to send a message or see her himself. What he needed was closure, then he could move on. He tried moving on without closure, he'd been the whore afterwards, there were even a few women who he could see having a real relationship with but he denied all of them because he knew that if he was married to someone else, he'd still want Althea, he'd still be in love with her and that wouldn't be fair.
"Send a message, or see to her, ask for a reason. Demand one." That was her sisterly advice.
"Signore, you have a visitor," came the drone voice of a slave he barely recognized. He accepted the visitor which caused Venus to leave his presence but she wouldn't be far. He hastily wiped the tears from his eyes, as he prepared to speak to this visitor.  
A woman appeared before him, dark of skin with fine black hair that reached her shoulders and brown eyes. She was older but the attractiveness of her youth remained present in her face. Did he know her? Did she know him?  He leaned against the edge of his desk and waited for her to speak.  
"Signore Gallo, meministine me?" Her Latin was perfect, unlike that of uneducated slaves or foreigners. She amazed herself by keeping her composure when all she wanted to do was jump up and hug the man, but he wouldn't like that, he never did. Especially from her, but he had been kind and as patient as a Latin man could be anyway. She came to respect him for that, he could have 
been unbearable.  
"Should I?"  
So they had met before? When? Where? He knew dark skinned 
women but only if they had been acquaintances of Hafeza or any of his crew originating from Africa, no where else. "I was your slave once, given to you on your birthday, I'm Benedicta the Carthaginian. I was freed from slavery, pardoned by your document when you last departed." Was it terrible that she had to explain who she was? Why didn't he remember? Was he ill?
He hadn't thought of her in a long time, hadn't thought of that birthday either. Recognition filled his face, she was the prized Carthaginian slave whom was coveted by most men but was given to him as a birthday present by an elder member of the Senate. "Yes, yes I remember you, you were a birthday present. Why're you here, you're still free aren't you?" Did she want to be a slave again? What kind of madness was that?  
"Signore, do you remember when you told me I was a Roman citizen?" She inquired carefully, he was dangerous in the past and she doubted the years made him any less a threat to anyone who was stupid enough to cross him.  
"Yes....."  where was she going with this?  
She handed him a letter that he opened up and read.  
He couldn't believe the words on the page, how dare they tried to 
destroy his letter of pardon. He hand wrote a document freeing her from enslavement in the event something happened to him or if he was to disappear on his annual-no-one-knows-where-the-hell-he-goes-trip.  
If he was to leave the villa for any reason, she was to be freed, he did it to protect her but now, the Vatican was deeming her a foreigner, a non Roman citizen without equal rights. She was a Roman citizen, she was born in Roma, raised in Roma, freed in Roma. She had every right as any low class citizen!  
He wouldn't tolerate this lack of respect, Vatican or no Vatican.
"Signore, there is a hearing coming up for me to prove my citizenship 
but I cannot prove it, my former master died years ago and....." she lost her words suddenly losing confidence, he was a prince, surely he had better things to do than waste his time attesting for her at a hearing. 
Had she lost her own pardon? Was a copy ever handed to her? "I'll go.  When is it?" He surprised her by easily agreeing. There was something he needed confirmation on, something he couldn't arrange easily for himself and she had given him the perfect excuse, however, he'd feel better if he talked to Saturnus about it.  
Later in the evening, he and Saturnus sat alone at the dining table, 
Saturn had a cup of wine, Alecto only drank water. It hurt him to look at his older brother, he had been handsome once but now he was just an old man, like their father, something about his brother always seemed immortal to him. He never thought Saturnus' good looks would fade. He took in a breath while awaiting Saturnus' reply but he said nothing.
"I've looked through father's old record books for the economy then I looked through yours.....ever since father pushed for the Vatican to exist, to help spread Christianity, we've been losing money......when he was pagan, there were no extra bills....I'm wondering if the Vatican itself is part of the problem." It was just a thought, one he wanted Saturnus to confirm or deny.
"Suddenly they've intervened in the life of your slave, your gift, your property which is why you suddenly care. Unbeknownst to you, little brother, the Vatican which you Christians hold so dear have been invading in places where they do not belong. They've passed laws and restrictions on brothels and slaves.....some of them say that brothels and slaves are immoral, should be banned or we'll be punished by your lowly, dead Hebrew carpenter of a Savior."  Saturnus fingered the edge of his chalice as he spoke his long awaited words.
Alecto eyed him, "what do you mean "you Christians" and "lowly, dead Hebrew carpenter of a Savior"?" He never heard his brother speak like that of the Church or of their Savior before, maybe he was just bitter about his plague of illness and hadn't meant it.
Saturnus shot his brother a look that brought back the man he used to be, "I say it because it is true. Gesù Cristo was nothing more than a Hebrew carpenter, and a dead one at that. Tell me how dead men can save anything or anyone? He's a figurehead for cowardly, greedy Christians. Nothing more."
How could he say that? Alecto glared hard at him, "you don't mean that."  He was just feeling bitter was all, he could blasphemize as much as he wanted 
as long as he confessed it in the end, he would be fine.
Saturnus took in a long breath which had his chest burning in seconds, the exhale felt less painful, "you make the mistake that I worship the same man that you do. I do not, I never have been Christian. Father could never convert me, thus my religious beliefs remained secret. Your savior is a dead man who had a trade in life, that isn't impressive, worse is, the Hebrews were slaves of the Egyptians, a much greater kingdom. A slave savior and a God who never shows his face or reveal his true name to his own subjects, why does your God have to hide? I do not trust those traits.
"I don't trust a man who worships a man who never married, whose 
very laws condemn women. I hear people say that Gesù Cristo was of love but I found nothing loving about him nor his teachings. They took my holidays, Saturnalia and renamed them, demonized my Gods for being brave, for not hiding among the clouds, and created a place envisioned by barbaric Saxons called Hell and said a demon will chain and hurt me for all of eternity......
"I rather believe Anubis weighs my heart and eats me for my wrong doings than believe in anything created by the Saxons, for these bleeding pussies called Christians have never gone to war with a Saxon. They say their ridiculous prayers and end them with 'Amen', another word of praise 
for Amun Ra yet they damn Ra as myth, if he's such a myth then why do Christians keep saying his name, Amen? If anything, Christians are the demons, they were invited and they have been vying for control, telling everyone that all else is a lie, that they should only rely on the Vatican, this isolation is just like a demon's doing, no?"
Alecto drunk his water during his brother's long rant, he had no idea that Saturnus wasn't Christian, how the hell had he been successful at hiding it for so long? What must he had thought of the new practices and laws as he watched people conform to it? "What Gods do you worship then and what have they ever done to prove they exist?" Despite that he had lived with pagan believers for years, he never asked them that, never had any reason to unless he wanted an ill conceived argument.
"Isn't it obvious? Cupido, Venus and Apollo. They proved their existence every day to me and even if they didn't, they cannot die like yours and are in no need to prove anything to me. I believe therefore they are. I know what they're about, I've seen their likeness carved in stone, painted upon walls, I know their names. None of them are cowards like your God. I don't respect a man who's too afraid to lie with a woman, I fear men who pray to another man who's never once fought his own battles. It's an induction of cowards, nothing more."
"And I fear a man who prefers to lie with a boy and yet still think he is worthy to be called a man. I couldn't help but to notice we were wealthier when all believed in such Gods. I can't help but to think that if we reintroduced the Latin Gods, or even Greek ones, we might see our wealth swell up once more.  I don't want to see us fade from history as a one time empire. We can come back from this rut."
"I'd love to worship Gods who are worth it in the open again but how exactly do you plan to accomplish this?"
Alecto stared at his brother for a long time, Saturnus had always accused him of using his mind and natural talents for evil and self-serving purposes which weren't always false, maybe this time he should use what he had for a greater good but who would be the one that decided what was good or not?
"First I will help out my former slave then undo whatever nonsense restrictions the Vatican has placed on slaves and brothels. That is, if they aren't just using the laws I created years ago. Afterwards I will have a word with Libra, he has to know something of good ole Roman military and this so called Papal Army I've heard whispers of. Gesù Cristo is in no need of an army, for one, he is technically deceased and second, he preaches non violence. The simple creating of an army is an invitation to war, so just who are they planning on conquering exactly?" That was the question that had been on his mind ever since he first heard wind of the Papal Army.
Saturnus shrugged, he always thought it was him who was the choice enemy of the Vatican, if you dethrone the king, who else could stand against you? "Get it done." Saturnus said ending their discussion, Alecto stood then walked around his brother's chair where he bowed his head to his ear so he could keep his last few words private.
"Unlike you, frater, I always get things done."  
Saturnus didn't turn his head until he could no longer hear his brother's footsteps, he didn't know how he did it but he managed to suppress that shudder.

New Fiction #4

No one gets werewolves right. That bothers me. No one even bothers to look up their real origin. Especially Patricia Briggs, she wrote in one of her books that werewolves were an European invention so only Europeans can be werewolves. That sounds a lot like white supremacy. I've been boycotting her since mostly because she did no real research. Real research will take you back between 2700 BC and 2500 BC when the Epic of Gilgamesh was written in Mesopotamia (now part of Iraq). The story goes according to the Epic, that a poor farmer was in love with the Goddess Ishtar and traveled to her temple to declare his love. Furious that he was poor, Ishtar turned the man into a wolf, you know the actual canine, and cursed him to only return to human form on a full moon. Now this Epic is the oldest on this living planet and far surpasses the Catholic versions we've come to know from the 1700s. Catholics got the story wrong.

The creatures we think as werewolves, aren't even werewolves, their humbabas which comes from Persian mythology. Werewolves should be from wherever real wolves live, China, Central Asia, Europe, US & Canada, etc.

So I have this werewolf character named Gilgamesh who's a descendant of the man Ishtar turned into a wolf but the wolf bite is highly transferrable so now he has an entire world of hiding werewolves. This particular chapter is a rough draft of Gil's life isn't finished, and deals with an enigmatic immortal man who wants to end his immortality.


 Gilgamesh the King of Wolves recently added the Damaged Wolf to his Brotherhood Pack but due to his being damaged, he would have to stay within the Pack House until Gil felt he was able to live on his own. He was something the centuries old King had never encountered before. 
He was immortal but he didn't come from the immortal races. He sought out Gil to end his immortality. No one had ever done that. Gil was interested enough to take in the pup. 
He was 5'8" approximately, he had a build that wasn't made by lifting weights in a gym and being conscience about it. His eyes and hair were dark with small splashes of grey to accentuate his age. He had two names but purposely chose the fake one over his real one.
He called himself and allowed others to only call him Darius Riga.  
He wore a long green thermal shirt and black jeans, his hair was loose falling to his back and looked uncombed or as combed as it was possibly going to get. Autumn in New England could be very cold just as it could be very warm. That day was a good 49 degrees Fahrenheit. Darius didn't drive cars, he didn't know how so it was up to Gil to bring him to the University where he worked as a professor of ancient history. 
His class was an elective and was only taken by students needing the extra credit, he felt insulted by that. 
During his own lunch break, he sat at one of the tables in the teacher's lounge with a bottle of water sitting in front of him as he reached into his jean pockets to remove the plastic pill bottle. His colleague asked him about it, it wasn't allowed for students to pop pills on campus nor the professors.
"I have Antisocial Personality and Dissociative Personality Disorder, the medication is non optional. I have to take them." He answered popping one of the pills for his Antisocial Personality Disorder in his mouth then chasing it with the water. 
His colleague watched with interest, "what is Antisocial Personality Disorder? Sounds like something all teenagers have." She huffed out with a laugh then became demure after realizing she might have offended him.
"It's known as sociopathy. Means that I like gambling too much and have a hard time trying to understand why other people are important." He looked away not that he was ashamed of his condition, he had nothing to be ashamed of. His colleague thought it over, so he was a couple steps away from being a psychopath so luckily he was taking medication to control it.
The Dissociative Personality Disorder was formally called Multiple Personality Disorder, she asked about that but made sure he knew that he didn't have to answer her if he felt uncomfortable. It was fine, he'd answer.
He put his hands to his own chest, "this personality here is Darius but not the original. You don't want to meet the original guy," he smiled.
He went back to class after lunch to further instruct his students on ancient cultures while debating tons of off topic subjects as well. He knew his English wasn't the best but he communicated his lessons well enough. He stayed even after the students left to head to their next class then left several minutes later.
He waited outside for Gil to pick him up from the University, he pulled out his Karelia Royal cigarettes and lit it with a match rather than a lighter. His Karelia Royal was for every day use, his Sobranie Black Russians were for special conditions although he preferred smoking from his hookah pipe. 
Gil pulled up to bring the man back to his house where he dropped off the chain smoker. 
Dylan, one of his students, wandered back into the lecture class to check his seat for his pen, it must have fell out of his pocket and he only had one pen on him. He found it on the floor, muttering a curse to himself he picked it up but didn't leave, instead circled around the professor's desk out of curiosity to discover a plastic bottle on the ground.
He couldn't believe the name he was reading on it, Darius Riga, his professor had real psychiatric problems and the pills in the bottle would be worth a lot. He pocketed the bottle with intentions of selling the medication inside.
At eight, Darius reached for his medications to find one missing. He searched his small bedroom in case he dropped it. He searched the entire estate for it to no avail. He inhaled a deep breath, he would be fine if he didn't take it for a day. What was the worst that would happen?
He ate with Esther, the caretaker of Gil's estate while concealing the fact that he lost his medication. The first day without it, he felt fine, normal, that night he began to feel a bit depressed but as the long night dragged on he realized his beloved wife was dead. Tears began to stream down his face as he recalled that his son was also dead. 
He didn't get any sleep, his eyes were bloodshot at work.
He missed them. His wife, his son and his sister, hell, he even missed his brother, that asshole. 
He lamented their passing.
The second day his depression deepened until it became slight intolerance towards everyone else. On the third day he sat at the white table in the teacher's lounge with his arms outstretched, his fingers flexing in his attempts to retain control. He could feel himself slipping into dark places that he didn't want to revisit. 
He was a terrible person in his past, all those centuries ago. He was born a patrician but became a pirate when the opportunity rose and the life he lived wasn't a child's pirate tale. He was a murderer, he was a thief and on occasion, a rapist, but he always made money. He had over 80 ships in his fleet when he retired and he retired a very wealthy man as did all of his crew. 
He was never just a pirate, he was a business man who built trade posts and harbors across Europe, Africa and Asia. He raised armies and conquered lands but his name had been forgotten by history and was regarded as a myth. 
He looked for his name in history books but only found small tidbits, his ships and treasure were never found so historians disregarded him. Those ignorant bastards. He kept his eyes shut as he clenched and unclenched his fists, his intolerance of ignorance and children was turning to anger that he couldn't control. 
He sucked in a breath as his colleague touched his hand, asking if he was okay. He opened his eyes to stare at her hand on top of his, he raised his narrow dark eyes to view hers. She jumped back, there was a different man looking back at her, a dangerous one. She let his hand go. "No...I'm not all right. I lost my medication......" He admitted then stood up and walked out to his last class.
"I'm feeling a bit short of temper, ladies and gentleman, so don't provoke me." He leaned over his desk with a feral smile, then slammed his fist against the metal thing to gauge their reaction. "We were on ancient Greek society. Tell me what you know and go. Just shout out the answers. Come on." 
He waited for some brave soul to say something.  
Kevin, an open Pagan, slightly raised his hand, "boys began learning virtues and wrestling from older men at the age of seven."
"Yes." He signaled for more with his hand.  
Throughout the lesson, Dylan watched his professor closely, he had the man's medication in his dorm room. He had been selling the pills individually and mutliple ones for a steep price. He made fourteen hundred dollars alone off of 15 pills. He thought about telling the older man that he had it but decided against it. His teacher's lost was his gain. 
After class he lit his Karelia cigarette and walked to Gil's house despite the whipping cold wind that blew the beautiful red, gold and brown leaves around the dirty roads. He needed time to himself.
When he reached the house, he re-searched it for his medication. Not being able to find it, he shut himself in one of the bathrooms, confused, he turned on both the taps as he scrubbed his face. He stared at himself in the mirror unable to recognize the long hair and beard, he felt his head become fuzzy as his surroundings suddenly became foreign. Where was he?
Supreme anger flowed through his veins as he grabbed his shears to shave down his beard. When it was a heavy stubble, he began to cut away his long locks. He always cut his hair himself, he rarely allowed other people to do anything to his head. He kept at it silently until it was short. He ran his hand through his hair. 
Leaving his stray follicles all over the bathroom given to him for his private use, he grabbed his jacket but stared at the gun resting inside one of the dresser drawers. He wasn't sure if he would need it but took it anyway. His behavior had taken a turn for the worst while out of the school. He became a short fuse lashing out at Gil and everyone else.

New Fiction #3

This one was written for a magazine but got REJECTED. I wish publishers were more specific about what they want. Sheesh, just tell me exactly in plain American English what the hell you want. I re-vamped some of my old characters for this because I like them that much, their story must be told! So there's this dude named Shogari, I created his name using Japanese kanji - 初刈 - which was fun and I really like these kanji, "sho" meaning "first" and "gari" meaning "to reap" as in farming but ultimately the name, as I see it, means first to reap, but the character himself is not at all Japanese. Kara is a common female name with various meanings depending on the language and country. I'm using Kara in the Turkic form to mean "black".





Fire burned his hand but all he did was throw his head back and laugh, the foolish mortals, did they not know that he was the living fire by now? Apparently not. With a casual flick of his wrist as if he was wiping something dirty off of his hand, the fire ceased to exist. "Now let me give it back." He smiled viciously, inflaming the air currents around his enemy who began to run around in a circle screaming of the pain, tears falling from the puny mortal's eyes did nothing to diffuse the fire. The man fell to the ground begging for his life with the last use of his now hoarse and raspy voice.
"Smoke kills just as much as the fire itself and a burning human? Well then...I guess I can consider you Mongolian barbeque." The master of pyrotechnics laughed a little more before sucking in a breath tasting the stench of freshly burned flesh. No matter how many humans he burned, he never got used to the smell. 
Most people had forgotten about him, not that they ever really knew him. Some rumors of his true identity were spread in whatever town or city or country he visited. He was called the Master of Pyrotechnics, the Flame Magician, less welcomed nicknames were derogatory terms like demon, hellspawn, Satan was the worse. The masses couldn't know what he really was, not that it was a big secret for him to keep but he was so old, his mere existence was now considered nothing but myth. That also hurt the most.
After all he's done for mankind, they simply write him off as cultural folklore. 
He slept for centuries but he never really died, if he did give up on living, the entire world would go with him but that didn't mean that he loved the human race. He liked them, they were entertaining creatures but he didn't love them. He loved his own life more and that was the only reason planet Earth hadn't perished yet. 
He left the empty parking lot behind the warehouse where he had burned the incompetent ingrate. The man had said that he had information on the whereabouts of his counterpart, so quick to believe in anything that would bring him closer to his wayward companion that he had fallen into a predictable trap. It wasn't anything dire that would wind up with him being dissected and studied in a top secret laboratory but this fanatical hunt by zealots were getting a bit too much on his nerves but he restrained himself tonight and that was all the mercy he could afford right now.
If people thought they knew the truth of him and were trying to kill him, what did that mean for his companion? 
Always more partial to night than day, he walked the length of the warehouse districts to the dining districts, he was hungry and was strangely in the mood for Korean barbeque.

She woke up in a dingy motel room that she was sharing with Astra Niedelschan-Rivera, a human who was not so human, however the woman had street smarts that Kara didn't possess and she was glad that the older woman carried multiple weapons. She was an apt protector, not that Kara needed one but guns were normal as where Kara's ability to fire conjure were not. Not that her fire could kill people. She never quite mastered the art of killing with it. 
Her counterpart, Shogari, had the ability to kill using fire, Kara's was more humane. Her fire healed. It even healed her when Shogari killed her all those centuries ago.
Rubbing her bright red hair, Kara could hear water running from the attached bathroom and knew Astra was up. A glance outside the window told her the time, a dark 9 o' clock at night. As it was summer, the sun was stealing time from the moon making the day longer, Astra wasn't able to travel in daylight. She had a fierce allergic reaction to the sun's rays. 
Kara had seen the blisters and boils on Astra's arms the day they met, the dark haired Austrian-Spanish beauty had been cornered by Bounty Hunters who were looking to cash in on the hefty bounty on her head when she ran into Kara down a narrow street in Prague. The red festering sores were absolutely disgusting, appalled by the woman's allergic reaction, she quickly grabbed her arms and used her gift to heal. Now there was no evidence that the woman ever had them. 
Astra headed out of the bathroom already dressed and ready to go. "Shower's on for you. Bathe, dress and let's go." They were somewhere in Bavaria and had no idea where to go to next. Astra's vote was for her favorite home away from home in England, a place where grey skies most often visited. She was perfectly fine in rainy, cloudy or snowy weather, she could go out in the day and be a normal woman. Kara had no preference although she had wanted to visit France, her grandmother's ancestral homeland, or was it called Gallia back then? 
Shaking her head of useless thoughts, she got to her bare feet to head into the bathroom.
Astra slid into the driver's seat of her black car, one recently donated to her by a benefactor who was in need of her skills and discretion. "I can drive you know. I learned in the west." Kara said taking her seat on the passenger's side.
"Europa is west," Astra reminded her, making her think that Kara's kind was specifically bad at directions.
"West of west. I learned in Texas."
"Never been there." Astra responded blandly, she's been visiting America for many years but she never had cause to go to Texas.
"A lot of German heritage there." Kara added feeling that Astra wouldn't be so out of place in Texas, not with so many people sharing the same heritage as her.
"I'm Austrian and Austrian people are originally Celtic, we just speak German. I'm damn near of Gaulish descent." Astra snorted.
"And my father's people were the actual Persians, not like the dark hair and dark eyed people you see today." Kara countered. Hundred of years or rape had weeded out the red hair and blue eyes of the Persians the same it had with the Turkic, nonetheless she was a throwback of an ancient origin no longer recognized. 
They spent the long night in silence only erupting in arguments in regards to the radio or Astra's personal mp3 player before they stopped for food, exiting a highway to find fast and cheap edible delights. The road disappeared under miles until the morning sun threatened to infect Astra once more. "It's funny, the sun is nothing but a ball of fire and it keeps trying to kill me," Astra sipped what was left of her melted milkshake through its red straw that she had purchased hours ago.
Taking the very next exit, Astra feverishly searched for a motel in the city. 
Drawing the curtains across all the windows in the motel room, Astra pulled out her laptop to purchase plane tickets for the two of them for the closest airport, night flights. In a couple of hours they would be in dreary old London. Astra knew who she was running from but she had no idea what Kara was trying to escape.
From the London airport to Astra's hideaway flat that housed a portion of her personal arsenal, she lit up a cigarette in the living room to ask her little friend who and what she was, not that she needed any details, she was just curious was all. Kara sipped from a bottle of water staring at what was left of her fish and chips in front of her. "You're not in any real danger with me, Astra," came a different sounding voice from Kara's mouth, one that sounded older and much wiser. Astra said nothing about the change, maybe Kara had a split personality of some sort. 
"But if he shows up....I cannot make any promises."
"He who?" Astra felt a stab of concern, she could take care of herself no problem but what if she couldn't against whoever she was speaking of? 
"Who indeed." 
A chill ran down the dark haired woman's spine. The following day she would get no sleep as her mind kept repeating Kara's words, who indeed?

Out of boredom Shogari entertained some children in a public park with his fire magic, they had thought he was just a really cool magician as most people did. They didn't know that there was no trick to it, at least not for him. Fire was as natural as walking and breathing. He could consciously summon it just as well as subconsciously and there were rare times when his life was actually in danger where the fire that flowed althroughout his veins defended him.
The small children laughed and giggled until he raised his brows to coax one of them to touch the flame sprouting out of his hand. He would show them a little of reality then it would be back to fun and games. A brave child reached out carelessly only to pull his hand back to cradle it against his chest, "that burned!" The child wailed before running off to find his mother without a doubt. 
"Hey mister is that fire really hot?" Asked another boy.
Shogari held out his hand, "why not see for yourself?" 
The child gingerly poked at the contained flames with a forefinger, pulling his hand back in quick response to the heat. "How comes it doesn't burn you?" The boy asked skeptically as he looked the adult over. Shogari was of average height with a common short haircut and neat beard. There didn't appear to be anything different or odd about him but suddenly the child felt a bit wary and unsafe. 
"Burn me?" Shogari asked humorously, "I am a dragon! You can't burn dragons. Can't drown us either." He slept for decades under the ocean floor and when he lifted his tail, hurricanes would ravage the sea. 
"Sure you are mister." The kid responded, all of the tension drained from his body, the adult must have just been a very good magician, probably worked at a well known circus. The group of children dispersed when he clapped his hands eradicating his magical inferno but there was no magic to it. Nothing mystical or otherworldly about it. He was quite convincing as a liar but he never lied about what he was, he was more than a dragon, he was the dragon. He was the only true king of the world but he had always allowed the humans to rule themselves as he was too selfish to care about their fluctuating needs. 
With a flap of his massive wings he could create tornadoes that would level a city completely, if he wanted to stomp around on the ground, he could puncture the Earth beneath him, and if he wanted to set the world ablaze.....there was no one who could stop him. 
His counterpart could contest him but never actually stop him, he supposed though that she was still upset about him killing her over a thousand years ago and that's why she was hiding. So be it, he thought to himself as he headed towards another restaurant, not Asian cuisine this time, something more delicate and lighter, he had 20 stomachs to keep full after all, besides, he was meeting an old friend for dinner later.
His friend chose the restaurant Sultans which served only the freshest of Turkish cuisine. Similar to Shogari but not a dragon like he was, this woman was able to choose her physical shape, could even change her gender if she liked but for the last decade she masqueraded as head nurse L.C. Shogari and the shapeshifter always had a friendly relationship that suited both of their needs just fine, spotting her sitting on a couch waiting for him, he joined her at the relaxed table.
"Is that you Turtle?" He asked pleasantly.
She smiled faintly, "you look exactly the same as last time I saw you." 
Shogari waved a hand to dismiss her statement, "hair grows long, I cut it, I can't change my human mask like you." His eyes darted from her soft face to other parts of her body before settling back on her brown eyes, "no longer masquerading as a child I see."
"Yes...there's only so much a child can do." She waited for him to sit before saying anything else.
Once he was seated beside her, he asked about her choice of eatery, he was actually hoping for something that served alcohol not that it could make him drunk but he did always enjoy drinking as a hobby. "I thought you'd be more accustomed to it. Besides, Greek and Turkish food are awfully similar if not down right the same-"
Shogari lifted his eyes to view the waiter coming to fill their water glasses, "don't let them hear you say that," he whispered softly in an ancient language that only the two of them would understand. 
The waiter, a tall yet portly man smiled friendly at the two as he handed them the menus then excused himself to wait another table. Shogari opened it to see food similar to his own native cuisine and although he could eat an entire sheep wool and all, he had grown fond of the human dining experience and often preferred it more even if it could never fill up his 20 stomachs. "Let's make this a true meal then with all the courses. So what are you calling yourself now?" He asked casually from over atop his menu.
"You may call me L.C now."
"Ah."
"My Turkish is lacking, you may have to help me pronounce these words." L.C looked up at him with all the childish mischief she had gained in all the centuries she lived. 
"Certainly."
They spoke idly of their recent travels while awaiting their drinks and appetizers, during their main course, L.C handed over an old thick journal she had found, "it's an old medical journal written by a woman in Athenian Antiquity, I've read through it, she was spot on with her theories but since she's a woman her contributions are largely unaccounted for."
Shogari snorted, "I didn't know women could be physicians in Athenian Antiquity and you give this to me why?"
"I heard rumors of someone wanting this and was aimed to do anything to get it. A man," she turned her head away focusing on a single spot on the floor, worry invaded her face as she tried to recall more of the anonymous warning she received, "a ruthless man called the Damaged Wolf...that's all I know. I have nothing to defend myself if he should pay me a visit so it may be safer in your claws...or belly." 
Shogari placed the old record in his jacket's inner pocket. "Now....you called my here because you know where Kara is." 
She held up a finger, "what's your rush King? Let's wait for dessert."
"Fine. I'm having samsa, and you?"
"Oo this ice cream dish looks good. Order it for me."
When they were halfway through the desserts, L.C began to speak again, "I can't be sure but it's just a hunch.....Kara may have been spotted by one of the Ravens in Europe. In Germany I last heard."
He nodded. "The Ravens don't like me very much anymore."
"Of course not." Not after he incinerated one that tried to convince him not to torch an entire city to the ground. The Ravens who were messengers of death and calamity always followed people who were about to die or cause chaos in any kind of form, that being said, the Ravens were always fluttering around in bird form because only Elite Ravens could transform into humans and they could only do that for a short period of time.
After that the Ravens began to fear the fire he wielded and only the bravest of them interacted when they had to but only if it was absolutely necessary. However the Ravens would take a request from L.C as long as it didn't interfere with their primary duties. "Contact the Ravens, have them follow Kara loosely, not too close or they'll be ensnared by her. I have the sneaking suspicion that if she and I were captured we would become the focus of inhuman experimentation. Religious zealots have already attacked me convinced that I was a demon. Kara's fire can't harm so she's in more potential danger than I am."
L.C nodded. She knew Kara very well so his concern was justified. "I will." 


Kara reluctantly showed Astra her fire after six weeks of living in her London flat, the woman deserved to know. In her hand sprung a medium sized flame that stood stationary without dancing and waving like normal flames would be by exposure to oxygen. Upon closer examination the flames held different colors, vibrant colors like purple and gold and a little bit of pink, it also appeared to be more fluid, liquid in essence. "Touch it, it's cool."
Believing in the redhead, Astra reached out to touch the fire and felt a light coolness. She eyed Kara strangely, "what are you?"
"The phoenix. I'm only one, there are no others. My fire governs the state of Rebirth as does my presence in the world, in fact I'm much older than you but I normally live alone except for when I encounter my counterpart......the dragon."
Astra looked around her small apartment, "a dragon really? If you're a phoenix shouldn't you be on fire all the time and be a bird?"
Kara glared at her with glowing gold eyes, "ignorance. I adapt. I can take human form and I only show my true self if it's unavoidable."
"So why are you here, now? Are you a sign of a global catastrophe?"
Kara began to laugh, "ridiculous made up theories. No. I'm just as much alive as you are and I have every right to a normal life like you do. There's no apocalypse coming, at least not from me. I'm able to sleep for lifetimes, its been over a thousand years since I last woke, normally I'm only roused from slumber when the dragon wakes...." Kara tilted her head upward to the ceiling as if she was looking at the sky, straining her ears to hear. "So he must have woken up recently."
"Is that good?" Astra figured that if a dragon had waken up and was flying around then someone would have seen him and his presence would have made headlines in the news.
"Of course. We aren't harbingers of doom or anything. We're capable of being either good or bad if we want, just like anyone else. He has bit of a temper though and he doesn't take well to people destroying nature so he might have killed people cutting down forests and what not. Our loyalty is to the Earth, not to humans. He gave mankind fire and he can take it back. So if I was your kind, I wouldn't provoke him. His fire can't be doused by water or sand so if he wanted someone to burn for all eternity he could literally do it, at least with my help he could."
"Maybe we should find him?" Astra asked skeptically, maybe he could be kept using such extremes on people who didn't really deserve it.
"Can't. That's not the natural order of things. I only go to him if he wants to be crowned king and wants to rule with his iron claws, other than that, he comes to me."
"So he'll find you?"
"He always does."
"Then what happens?"
"We fight, he kills me, my body is engulfed in flames, I am reborn in another part of the world, the cycle repeats." 
Astra swallowed a German curse, "that must be tiring."
"It is but without the ritual......nothing else on this planet could live."        

 
Gisalrico Vincenc Otokar, a biophysics scientist had greatly undermined the rumors floating through his office by the lesser competant staff. There had been talk about a string of recent burn victims that had made its way through the lower fifty states from west to east, so great was the number of burn victims, news reporters were considering it a possibility of massive suicide by fire. 
It made for a morbid debate amongst employees and co-workers who shook their heads at the epidemic but he wouldn't concern himself with morbid news fodder until someone mentioned that in one specific report that friends and family of a victim refused to believe it was suicide and that the victim was indeed murdered. Police had followed up the investigation to find the victim had been doing a little investigation of his own, the victim's investigation detailed the daily routine of an unidentified man whom he believed to be a demon.
Gisalrico snorted, demons, bah! Who could ever belive such beings existed? Sick of hearing their fanciful tales he snapped at his subordinates who were busy drumming up their own theories on the demon. "You're here to work not gossip about made up news stories." 
He walked back to his lab. 
He was the last one to leave the lab, it was eleven at night and all of his workers had gone home but he was just now experiencing hunger. Slamming his car door, he headed towards Sabrina's Diner to order his usual steak and mashed potatoes but he never made it. Younger men on bicycles circled him while taunting loudly, insulting him before one took out a gun and shot him in the shoulder. Two more shots had him on the ground in pain as the men searched his bloody body for his wallet. Taking the cash and his gold watch, they hopped on their bikes and took off down the road.
Unable to move, he laid on the dirty street bleeding to death.

Thin light came through the roughly closed blinds that dust floated on. Gisalrico laid stiffly on the sofa bed trying to move his neck to try to glimpse his surroundings. Across from the bed a man sat in a chair with a glass of water sitting on the table beside him, "if you want the water you'll have to sit up, Otokar." 
  Gisalrico struggled to lay back against the puffy pillows until he could properly see the good samaritan who saved him. He eyed his gun shot wounds as best he could, his shoulder was stitched but the wounds on his side was burned where the bullet had punctured him. "Who are you?" He asked skeptically.
"I am called Shogari, it means first to reap. You may want to think of that as a warning and as a source of relief. I found you shot, lying on the ground. I brought you here, treated your wounds. Now I'm no doctor but I've learned a little something so you may still want to go to a hospital.....when I let you leave."
"L-l-let me leave?" Gisalrico's mouth had gone dry, his senses heightened as fear crept in making his ears burn. What did he mean by that?
"Yes." Shogari replied as he got up to hand the injured man the glass of water, he wore a plain black t-shirt, he didn't appear threatening. He handed Gisalrico the glass. "You're a biophysicist and I heard that something interesting will be arriving at your office in the next few days....ignore it. Or....those burns wounds will be worse. I'll leave you to collect your thoughts." The strange man left him alone, he could tell he was utterly by himself when he heard a thick door slam that echoed through the hollow hall. He shivered from cold despite it being the middle of summer. 
Shogari hadn't lied, when he was released from the hospital something interesting had shown up at his office. It was a plain brown box similar to small packages that could be bought at the post office, inside of it was two sealed vials of blood. One was labeled human, the other was labeled demon. He hadn't forgotten about Shogari's warning to ignore the package and he was going to do what the man had told him but scientific curiosity got the better of him. 
He didn't believe in demons or anything supernatural or paranormal so he was sure that if he analyzed both blood samples, he wouldn't find anything out of the ordinary but what if he did? What if? What if one of those blood samples held secrets within its DNA that no man had ever discovered before? Could it be used to cure diseases or could it be weaponized? The possibility of what if taunted him, lured him into disregarding Shogari's warning.
He started with the blood labeled human, he gave it the necessary treatments before getting ready to use gene therapy to check the genetic conditions that the donor might have had. When the results came back negative of the usual blood defects, then he used forensic testing to find the identity of the donor. Those results gave him nothing and was a waste of his time.
He moved on to the next sample, he could feel and hear his heartbeat racing in anticipation but he had to calm himself or else he'd make a mistake and would ruin the only sample he had. His hands trembled as they sweated inside the plastic gloves as he handled this vial with extra care. He ran the same series of tests, beginning with the gene therapy. 
He held his breath before getting the results back, the paper he held in his hands astounded him. Demon or not, this couldn't possibly be right. He had to have made a mistake, no, he argued with himself, Gisalrico Vincenc Otokar did not make mistakes! 
He tried the other test but the systems that identified criminals had nothing. He spent the rest of the day cross checking databases to find the two donors, the human donor was one of the burn victims but the other......was it Shogari's? Was that the reason he wanted Gisalrico to ignore it because if he tested Shogari's blood he would find something not quite right, something a little more than human DNA?  
His blood contained an unidentified animal DNA as well as carbon dioxide and nitrogen, two of the chemical compounds that make fire. He was a walking combustion tank. How did he not succumb to the nitrogen? How did the chemical even end up in his bloodstream? He didn't 
appear sick when he last saw him, he seemed completely fine and wasn't suffering from any 
visible ailment. What was that man? His scientific brain burned with questions that needed answers but the man hadn't given him a phone number or any other form of contact information, how was he supposed to find him again?
The apartment he woke up in, that was a good start. 

Shogari had already moved on from the eastern city, although he could fly he thought he'd tried something new like riding an airplane. He sat in the thin chair staring at the small television that was fixed in the back of the headrest in front of him, his arms folded across his chest as if he was angry. He didn't like the plane. It was cramped, there were too many people around, the food wasn't nearly enough for him and worse of all, he couldn't open the window.
He couldn't feel the wind on his face, couldn't breathe the crisp sea air as they flew over the Atlantic. He chewed his tongue allowing a small facet of his true nature to slip through his mortal disguise. A fang larger than the tallest man's arm slipped out of his mouth as he tried to keep his composure. He wasn't claustrophobic at all but this was a bit more than he could handle, he sighed, this is what he got for trying something new. Shaking his head he allowed the shell to break a little more until a large wing popped out from his back, crushing the row of seats across the aisle from where he sat.
Screams filtered the small space as he fully changed his form, his large body breaking everything in the plane until his weight had the mechanical device plummeting out the sky itself, by then half of the passengers who road economy class were already dead. Shaking his reptilian head, he spread his massive black wings causing the sides of the plane to completely shatter, ripping the vessel apart completely, he was finally free of the constraints. 
He flapped his wings twice to keep him afloat as he watched the white aircraft crumble as he fell from the sky with speed that seemed slow to him. Never again, he reminded himself, would he take a plane. Uncaring of the people's lives he just took, he flapped his wings again thrusting himself northeast for the small island nation. The Ravens hadn't let L.C down and she had delivered on her promise, the phoenix was alive and staying in a city called London. 
Kara had a better chance of surviving if he was around, this time when they met they wouldn't be fighting nor would he kill her. He was sure that scientist had disobeyed him and soon there would be a massive hunt for the two of them. This time he was going to protect her. 

New Fiction#2

"No God On Earth" is me making fun of dystopian novels like The Hunger Games and Divergence. It's a world full of snow and ice because winter finally came unlike the lie that is Game of Thrones. Winter is Coming my ass, 4 seasons in and not a drop of snow. Not afraid of killing the main character either, as it's supposed to be from different character's point of views.


They say there used to be a sun in a blue sky that heated the Earth allowing crops to grow, 
animals to thrive and humans to live. I've never seen it. Old science books classified this mythical orb of light as a giant star made of gas capable of burning anything that even got as close as ten feet of it. I consider it just a myth but apparently it happened, the historians swear that it's all true but all I know is the cold darkness we live in now.
Thanks to that yellow ball of fire dying out on us, we now live in complete total 
darkness, the moon still exists and we have calm seas plagued by pirates taking advantage of 
blind spots. The days are cold with snows blowing down from the Article Circle, and people once feared what the historians called Global Warming. Snow isn't the only thing parading south of the pole, polar bears have become vicious man-eaters, threatening the people who lived in their ancestral homes.
Our nights are just as treacherous considering that we no longer have a day or night, 
it's just black all the time, sometimes I think that without our clothes, we wouldn't know color. I'm just old enough to go out hunting the vicious bears, only creatures accustomed to the cold survived. Snow leopards and Siberian tigers used the glaciers that formed between Russia and Alaska to migrate to the Americas and now range from Canada to Chile, wiping out anything else that happened to survive like snow hares.
This is a world of ice. 
A world of freezing winds and plummeting temperatures.
We wonder how we've survived for so long.
My home is shared with my parents, older brother and younger sister, we had more siblings but they died of fever and starvation.
Medicine that was created by science and improved upon by technology was hoarded 
when all governments collapsed by the doctors, surgeons and nurses in an attempt to protect their own families and make themselves richer by selling flu shots and other vaccines to the highest bidders. My dad says that if they're willing to break their Hippocratic Oath then what else are they willing to break for the sake of a few bucks? 
Money is still important, you wouldn't think it would be, right? You'd assume that resources like fur, meat, vegetables and wood would be more precious but the world hasn't gone that dystopian yet. You can always tell who has the money, they live in well made mansions and manor houses with armed guards to protect their endless supply of wood and gasoline used to heat their home.
These same people do not rule us though, they don't extort people like us who live in 
small colonies in the middle of some forgotten forest where lumber is abundant. They make 
their money by selling what they've got to other rich jerk offs and foreigners who snow mobile here just to make a deal. That and prostitution and we know prostitution is a fact, Jenny from down the road left her parent's cabin to make a comfortable life for herself as some rich 
man's lover.
It worked well for her until he killed her.
Some people say the President is held up in the White House, well if he is, his black ass ain't doing a damn thing to help anyone out. I personally wouldn't know. 
My father is standing in the kitchen area of our cabin with his rifle in hand, a beautiful long barrel that costed him some river rat meat, a moose hide and a cup of oil to fuel a lamp. 
It was a good trade, only in small villages like this is where trade is fair.
My dad cocks the gun, it's a loud sound that I've gotten used to hearing, he makes a living by hunting large and small game. Some stubborn otters or river rats as we call them, badgers, rabbits, moose, deer and mountain lions have been able to survive the rough climate. 
Fortunately, leopards and tigers aren't that all migrated to this part of the world, we now have 
ibex and mountain goats running about here.
My father calls my name to snap me out of my narrative, I turn to face him and he's holding out a medium sized rifle, it costed him nearly half our lumber to trade that for me, the soft smile on his face is killing me.
I know my dad loves me but was getting me a rifle of my own worth half our 
firewood? Right after trading for the gun, he went out and began chopping more, when I confronted him about it, he swung the axe down and told me that three men hunting was a better odd than two, and that wood was available here in the forest where as meat was rare.
Even rarer than meat was vegetables and fruit but there had been rumors of people growing them in greenhouses along with medicinal herbs and spices. I've never seen it and wondered how a greenhouse would work.
I hesitantly take the gun, I can shoot all right, been learning my whole life but I only hunted small game like the river rats, a rabbit or badger. My dad wanted to go after a moose 
while my brother wanted to seize a name for himself by bringing down a leopard or tiger. Our 
dad told him he was an idiot.
I put down the gun to pull on my boots, inhaling a breath to steel my nerves. Moose were big with huge antlers and I was not looking forward to seeing one up close. My dad calls for my brother while I double knot my laces. 
My mother plops a hat on my head and pulls the knit cap down over my ears, I shrug 
away her bothersome hands, I'm 15, I can put on my own cap. She chastises me but I ignore her shrill words while my father and brother pull on their deerskin coats. Mine has a hood and that's why I like mine. 
The door opens and a cold wind blows past us, threatening to turn our fireplace to steam. We rush outside at my mother's urging. Pulling down my dark green face mask, I breathe in the fresh air, it stills my lungs and cleanses it until it burns, I slowly blow out a breath taking delight that it looks like smoke that only the rich can afford.
The snow crunches loudly under our feet as we move in what looks like a single line until my friend, Rafiq Isaff Abd-El-Kadir came to walk by my side, while his father, Alem Gafar Abd-El-Kadir spoke to mine. They were tenth generation Arabians, the story went that their great great grandfather came to live in the western hemisphere before the sun exploded. 
They claimed to have been citizens not that citizenship mattered much anymore. My father believed in never hunting alone and Mr. Alem was an excellent shot who used falconry to help him hunt rather than dogs like the rest of us.
My brother thought by using hawks, Mr. Alem was only showing off but he assured my brother that his skills were real. My father talked with Mr. Alem while Rafiq and I remained in 
the back of the line holding the laterns to light the darkened way.
My brother held the front of the line.
We talked about useless things of what we think of the past and what it was like, not paying attention to our noisy steps until my father shushes me. "You'll scare the moose." Only ten miles away we settled down to get ready to actually track the large animal. We broke off into our families so our fathers could continue to teach us about tracking, a skill we've been learning our entire lives but still wasn't good enough for them.
I yawn through the lesson until my father hits the back of my head causing me to bite my tongue with a yelp. "Pay attention Cody or you can be seriously injured or worse, Paolo," dad looks to my brother and utters a command that Paolo follows without question or comment.
We move on from Mr. Alem and Rafiq, their hawks let out a squeal that they follow by latern light deeper into the forest. I watch their beacon move in the darkness like it was some sort of mysterious orb, mesmerized by it as it bounced seemingly without a host. Paolo nudges me forward and I stumble a bit, my foot punches through the thick snow until I'm stuck. Cursing under my breath, I pull my leg out, my blue jeans wet now.
My father crouches low beside some trees while we wait, you think animals wouldn't be able to survive without a sun but we're all doing the best we can out here in Pluto, our village's history teacher says this might be vengeance for no longer considering Pluto a planet, quite honestly, I just space out when the windbag talks but I guess I am learning something, something enough to mock it.
Silence rings out between the three of us and the only thing we can hear is the continued screeching of our neighbor's hawks circling the air. It's annoying to sit around and wait for the damn animals to come out and eat some leaves. We have better luck hunting owls. Taking out my slingshot I hold it up to eye level and center it on a tree where I can see rustling despite not having any wind. I pull back and wait again then let go of the lead pellet. 
The owl falls to the ground and our dog brings it to me. Paolo chastises me, our dad ignores our small squabble then raises his hand for silence when a large creature comes stalking. We can't quite see what it is but we can hear its body sinking into the snow around us all. My father stands up and pulls the trigger in rapid succession so the creature wouldn't run away. An eerie sound escapes its mouth, a loud bellowing that I never heard.
Such pain and panic is released in a loud roar as the creature gives chase, we break out 
into a run to follow the heavy beast. My dad takes more shots of it, Paolo is holding the light just behind his ear. We see it fall. My dad checks its corpse, "we got a stag!" Not what we wanted but its meat would be stored and its pelt can be traded. 
The two began to drag it back to our house while my dad contacts Mr.Alem on the 
walkie-talkie to let him know we got something and was heading back to the starting point. 
He agreed that we should wait for 15 minutes.
Mr. Alem and Rafiq return with small game but nothing big. My dad offered some of the stag meat to them. Mr. Alem had more children than Rafiq but his older boys left to the cluster cities to make money but he had daughters as well. He graciously accepted the offer.  

It's hard to tell the difference of time, when do we sleep or wake? I lay awake in my bed covered by artic fox fur and old sheets from a time when there were department stores and a place called Walmart. Whatever the hell that was. My hands are behind my head but I feel restless. Rafiq asked me earlier while we huddled in the back of the line to sneak out with him and drive his dad's snow mobile to the closest saloon. 
The rumor was that there was a brothel set up by a retired pirate and former hitman in the small town and that they built it to look like the old westerns featuring someone named The Duke, he claimed that he had an erection lasting nearly all day and had some money that one of his brothers sent back to him as a gift. He wanted to leave sometime in the early morning or as we call it, twilight o' clock. Not that the sky lightens, no it never lightens but we have laterns both electric, battery operated and oil. 
I'm thinking about it, this life is pretty boring. Day in and night out. 
Getting off my bed, I silently get dressed in my warmest clothes but not too warm, I don't want the women to think I'm some kind of kid. Pulling on my black jeans over my red longjohns, I tiptoe into my brother's room for one of his long sleeve shirts and grab his silver lion totem necklace. Slipping it around my kneck, I creep into the kitchen to slip on my boots once more, pull on my jacket then wait to hear the content sigh of the collective house.
I could hear my dad's snoring from his bedroom, my mom no doubt lying beside him 
with a pillow over her head. Nervously I grab the doorknob and twist, in a few heart pounding moments I'm outside and off down the road staying in the tracks we've created earlier or was 
it yesterday? Last night? Oh nevermind.
Rafiq is on Mr. Alem's red Yamaha snow mobile, the bright white lights glisten off the snow in front of him, highlighting the cold drizzle. I suddenly just want to get to bed but if Rafiq is up for it then I'm game. "Awesome, let's go," he says in Arabic as I sit behind him, I'm confused about what to do with my hands, do I put them on his waist? Does that make me gay if I do? I clamp down on his shoulders instead, the engine whirls to life and kickstarts us into our first taste of freedom.
The town is a good ten miles from our forest dwellings near the river where the supposed pirate made his living from. Steam barges also grants passenger rides up and down the river to elsewhere. We tried talking but couldn't hear one another over the loud engine. I wonder how he knows where the town is, when we reach the town of twinkling oil lamps, he disembarks with a suaveness I never noticed before.
I wanted to question it but questioning is for kids and I want to appeal cool when I remember that I have no money. 
"Relax," he waves down my concern, "my bro sent me a hundred as an early gift. Don't sweat it."
The brothel's sign is lit in neon lights, glowlights without batteries or electricity, I can't help but to notice how odd it looks with the classic wood paneling. I stop abreast the jutting 
stairs covered in slush and various footprints to savor this capitol moment in my life. Inhaling icy air, I follow Rafiq inside where no one is guarding the door.
The stench hits me first, a mixture of cheap perfume and unwashed bodies strong 
enough to make a lungless person gag. I turn my head in a quick reflex, feeling dizziness overtake my senses until I feel a tugging on my jacket. The sound penetrates my ears, I never heard such high pitch screaming and labored grunts combined in disgusting melodies. When I finally look up from following Rafiq blindly, I see the coat of lavender on the walls and plush furniture, naked and half naked women are walking about but so are shirtless men with beer bottles in hand.
I suddenly feel afraid of the other men but I can't show it. Tonight I become a man just like them so I can't back down. I must be the lion that hangs around my neck, fisting the medallion tightly, I feel a new confidence wash down my spine. Bravely I give any man my best cocky look.
Rafiq sits down at a round table with two chairs then begin to rub his hands together to thaw them out from under his thick gloves. He sits back in the chair comfortable and I can't help but to wonder why. "You know how to play poker, right?" He looks at me with a smile, revealing a chip tooth that I never seen.
"Yeah, I can play." My dad, brother, mother and I play for fun for small trinkets or 
snacks.
"And pool?"
"Never seen one." 
"Ahh, well then we'll stick to poker then."
Stunned, a woman comes bending over the table before I could ask, my eyes focus on the large creamy boobs that are barreling out of her halter top. Heat flushes my face but it has 
nothing to do with the temperature inside. "You got some balls kid, are you Na'il's brother? You definitely got bigger balls than he does. All right, I'll go let the boss know you're here."     
She sucked air between her teeth as she strode away to a back room where a large group of men and one woman sat playing cards. "Na'il's kid brother is here."
The boss nodded and two other men got up from the table.
Ajahny Carson was a large man, 6'0", fit and capable. The metal spurs on his black leather boots clanked on the wooden floor as he came towards us, the second large man has a blank expression making me feel like he wasn't too bright. The one in front sat down at the table. "Are you here to play in his stead?"
For the first time since this journey began I see sweat form on Rafiq's forehead as the 
adult shuffled the deck of cards. The plastic cards flew between his hands magically before he tossed them out to Rafiq. "Get these boys some beers." The adult smiled lazily as he eyed us with his brown eyes, I sit up in the chair feeling my chest tightened, the other man remained standing near the one with the cards, silent as stone. Something about this wasn't right, what was Rafiq doing here playing poker with this man?
Another woman brings three beers and pops the tops and hands them to us.
I slowly take a sip so I wouldn't seem out of place, the cold brew slides down my throat with a bitter taste that I grimace at, when I see the man grin at me, I stop instantly. "I'm Ajahny Carson by the way, second in command of the town." He said using his authority, "and you'll know what will happen if your brother can't pay up, don't ya?" The corners of his mouth lift up in another grin that was chilling.
I sit quietly as they play the game, fearing each turn of the cards, each give and take of the chips and every dollar that's placed on the rough surface on the table. Time slowed down when the last hand was played, it was such a blur as Rafiq was pulled down by the front of his shirt until his head slammed against the table in a loud pop.
I remember getting to my feet and screaming, I could hear a collage of voices blending 
and mixing in high pitched terror, my feet pound against wood then snow as a gust of cold air blasts my open chest. I don't remember where Rafiq is but my hands are suddenly shoveling through blankets of snow as my lower legs scramble to get me up again, I can see the black 
outline of Mr. Alem's snow mobile, my heart is racing but for some reason nothing in my head seems to be making sense.
I am scared. Really scared. Scared shitless. 
I can hear gun shots then feel a red hot sensation pass through my legs as I tumble back down to the ground. I can feel blood seeping through my longjohns and jeans before another gun goes off and everything fades to black.


Then it's Rafiq's POV but I haven't finished it yet.

New Fiction

My brother's friend came up with this world and the main character, then my brother added on and now I. I actually don't know much about the world in which his friend created but I created a character anyway. Here's my first paragraph, my brother added on to it and we went back and forth with the character's reactions to one another which was fun.

My paragraph:

The Cheshire Cat was a man like no other, he could spin a riddle into a sermon, a sermon into a lie and a lie into a rainbow and move civilians to war and peace talks alike and as far a contraband went, no one could move magic relics like him. He could get into places that the regular citizens shivered to think of simply being near. he was interesting because he had no time for boring people. 
Today he was a Dapper Dan, his blonde hair combed back away from his face, his face nicely shaven to accentuate his square jaw that was neither too old nor too young. several items hid well within the pockets of his double breasted trench coat, while others donned their hair and bodies with glowing lights and paints, he preferred to keep to the shadows without drawing that much attention to himself until he felt like it.
Behind his ear rested a long cigarette stick from decades past, well more than a century ago. He eyed his reflection for a while in the dirty window of a gear shop on level floor of the metropolis. Most people didn't walk the ground and the ones that did were addicts and criminals. So many souls astray, he felt right at home. 
Leaving the only clean spot on the shotty storefront, he added a bit of a pep in his step as he walked, all he was missing was a cane but that was one of the items safely tucked inside his coat. he jingled like a thousand keys, it was the only tell sign that the Cheshire Cat was coming. Children in rags peered up at him from the safety of a garbage bin but he only whistled a lively tune from a century past. 
He didn't like this new music that sounded like breaking glass and mechanical parts roaring into life but that's what the music scene had been like for over 150 years, only one place was different but he wasn't heading there yet. 
There were a lot of people in the city and he was aimed to know each and everyone of them from the Rogue Mage to The Alchemist, characters well known for their vigilante lifestyle, while he couldn't budge to save others from harm, that didn't mean he couldn't help....or hinder....depending on the pay out. 
He had been watching them for a little over a month now, their interactions hilarious slapstick comedy in the face of danger and neither of them were privy to his presence. Only because he wanted it that way. tonight, however, he wouldn't be watching their antics but another, Cait Sith, and maybe a little more if he felt the time was right. 

My brother's:

Cait Sith was crouched on a building, his finger toying with the small device in his ear. He had been staking out this building for a month. His eyes were fixed on the back door as he continued to adjust his frequency until the voice behind the door crackled to life. His long white scarf trailed behind him and fluttered in the night air, he strained his ears to listen, but all he could hear was someone whistling, a strange tune he'd never heard before.
He scanned the alley to find a man dancing down the way, whistling and joyful. His blonde hair shone through the dim lighting. He wanted to ignore this man, but it seemed that the more he tried to cancel the noise, the louder the whistling became. He looked again to find the man staring at him, smiling with his mouth shut and yet the song went on.
Perhaps tonight was not the night, this man may be a guard. He turned to run back along the roof only to met by the tall, smiling man from the ally.

Mine:

The Cheshire Cat studied the man's confused reaction, always finding a relative enjoyment in the befuddlement of others, especially lesser men. He waved slightly with a black gloved hand, "how do you do? Or...how do you do it the way that you do? This stalking and pounce game that you play. Quite different from the others," he paused his purring voice, his slight accent that died over the years slurring just a bit as if he could be drunk. 

"Yes, how do you do it, Fairy Cat?" He waited for a response in silence, straining his ears a bit he could hear the faint pounding of Cait's heart. Why was it beating so heavily he wondered? Was the Fairy Cat wary of him? He shuffled up to the other man until they were face to face, tempted to lick the mask of the other but the scent on his suit was far more curious. "No need to be alarmed. You'll come to no harm while The Cheshire Cat is around....or at least not by my own hands anyway," he half whispered under his breath, that last part.

He backed away as the man's face turned in utter dismay and confusion, clearly this wasn't going as well as he had planned. or wanted it to go, he didn't actually plan anything. He tsked under his breath as he sat down upon air, his leg crossing over his knee, his arms folded as his brow furrowed, appearing to be thinking hard about something. "This won't do! I thought he'd be different, he seemed so interesting in the beginning, perhaps I made a mistake," he rambled to himself, "no that can't be right. I'm perfect. But how does he do it?"

He shot a glare at Cait who seemed rooted to his spot by fear or maybe it was awe.  

My brother's:

Cait Sith sat, confused. He swallowed hard, "Why are you talking to me? What are you talking about? And why the hell do you keep calling me 'Fairy Cat'?" he asked, his heart pounding and the smell of his own breath being fed back into his nose by the mask he wore. "I'm kinda in the middle of something and I don't have time for this crap." He growled at the man who was floating before him, smiling.

Mine:

He tilted his head to the side, why was the man growling at him? What uncivilized cat did such a thing? Feeling a bit offended, he huffed out a breath before putting his best growl forward himself, bringing out the full extent of his lost accent. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, didn't realize that I encroached on your territory, the whole city smells like piss but I never smelled your piss so I didn't know. I am speaking to you on the very topic of your skills, sir. I might be in need of them in the near future...or tomorrow, or five minutes from now, that counts as the near future, yes indeed-" a sharp sound whistled through the air, catching his ear, he slowly turned his head only to study the idle building that sat beside them in its hollow faded glory.

Broken windows and a dusty darkness greeted his gaze just as silent as ever. 

Raising an eyebrow, the Cheshire Cat never took his eyes off the building beside them, searching for anything that could resemble a life tucked away in the safety of its decrepit form. Listening harder he could make out words from the high pitched whistle that became a scream, its wavelength a straight shot from its point of origin directly to his aged ears. 

Someone else was in need of him? Interesting, considering that the right people knew he would unavailable at the moment. He ignored the screaming that Cait probably could not hear. 

He smiled brilliantly showing off a slightly chipped tooth, the only flaw in an otherwise perfect visage. "Caith Sith....it is Gaelic, means Fairy Cat. I find it unsavory that a man not know his own name may also not know his own self." His head whipped as the high pitched scream was replaced by sirens, a well known signal of the law at work. Perhaps he should have listened to the screams.

"I bide you farewell Fairy Cat." And in the blink of an eye, he was gone. 

He reappeared at an underground bar that served real alcohol made from wheat, barely, potatoes and absinthe. Other places had moved on with the times and now only served small cocktails of synthetic booze laced with liquid magic elixirs. Messalina, the apt bartender looked his way, his blonde hair stood on end, a black tattoo that gave way to shimmering color gave depth to his cheekbone under his left eye as his clothes assimilated to more popular cyberpunk styles.

"Who're you pretending to be, C.C?" She asked, her brown arm strong in the ability to wipe down a wooden counter instead of the chrome ones used above ground.

"Pretending to be the person who called upon me wants me to be. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?" He asked slyly, his voice less thick and more in tune with the local accent, if she didn't know better she would think him nothing more than one of the local punks around this part of town.

She poured him a glass of something sweet, nearly tossing it down the bar to him. "Not at all unless you want to pick a name out of a hat."

His eyes lit up, "oh yes, get me my top hat and let me match hand to mouth." 

Leaving the bar, she returned with his top hat, a momento in her safe keeping for the time being, he reached in to the bottom then pulled out a sliver of paper with the name of a woman inside. "Oh ho, a former magic addict screaming for fabulous me?" He stood then chugged down the alcoholic beverage which had him trembling from head to feet. "Well I'm off. Keep a warm bed for me, Messalina."

She looked up at him, confused for a moment, "wait...you're coming back tonight?"

"Tonight, tomorrow, dawn, twilight, what is time but a way to keep us all rooted to the ground with sick and worry?" He waved his arm as he headed out the door.