Star Trek 001 – Klingons on Ice

“You’re late.”

Martin looked up at the Klingon towering a half-meter above him. Shaktaar stood next to a noticeably trembling Ensign. Martin nodded at the other officer.

“Your partner on this exercise, Ensign Tarluk beat you here by about forty-five seconds. So much for Klingon punctuality. Unfortunate.”

“Apologies, sir.” Shaktaar handed the lieutenant his PADD.

“But you’re only half-Klingon, isn’t that right?” Martin smiled as he noticed the brown stain on Ensign Shaktaar’s uniform. “You finished almost all of your coffee, Ensign?”  Martin grinned.

“Aye, sir”,  Shaktaar grunted with a mixture of embarrassment and anger.

“Don’t worry about it, Ensign. You’ll need something a little warmer when you get in there.” The lieutenant gestured slightly toward the holodeck doors. “Shall we?”  Lieutenant Martin approached the holodeck console. “Computer. Holodeck training simulation Zeta Five-001.2.”

The two large Ensigns stood at attention while Martin briefed them on the particulars of the simulation. Two technicians moved to meet them with a cart stacked with heavy parkas, boots and equipment. After assessing the supplies, both men dressed for cold weather and hastily equipped themselves.

Lieutenant Martin grinned. “Alright, men. In you go.”

The young officers approached the massive door which parted to receive them. The large room was marked in the familiar green and black grid of a holodeck simulator. A filtered voice came from a voice monitor in the ceiling.

“Computer. Run program.”

Suddenly the room went white and the temperature dropped fifteen degrees. They found themselves on a wintery white plain, with snow whipping about in a brutal wind. A large figure stumbled out of the snow, bleeding greenish blood, and gasping noticeably.

“Please… help. My people… dying… slaughtered.”

Shaktaar’s comm badge chirped and a voice began. “USS Beowulf to Ensigns Tarluk and Shaktaar on the ice-planet, Juwaar.”

Tarluk slapped at his comm badge, “Tarluk here, sir.”

“Scout your location and rescue any and all Juwaarans injured in last night’s Dominion attack.  Stay alert for remaining Jem’Hadar.”

“Aye, sir.” Tarluk scanned the massive, injured creature with his tricorder. Definitely Juwaaran. Shaktaar already had his phaser in one hand and a medical tricorder in the other. He cautiously approached the injured being, the tricorder whirring at a high velocity.

“We have to get this man to shelter. His core temperature is dangerously low, and he’s sustained multiple injuries.”

Tarluk widened the scan of his own tricorder and swept the area. “There’s a series of caves about 30 meters to the North. Follow me.”

The two ensigns set out across the snow as it swept into deeper drifts. The walk, though short of distance, proved a strenuous task in the sub-zero conditions. Shaktaar’se tricorder scanned the rocks and snow and soon located a large cave. He entered first, phaser drawn.

Tarluk’s comm badge chirped. “Shaktaar to Tarluk. The cave is clear and safe to enter. I’ll start a fire.”

Tarluk spotted a flash and a building glow from within the cave. The very thought of a warm fire brought a grin to the Klingon’s face. Then – something moved in the distance. Even through the snow and thickening darkness, Tarluk spotted a figure on the stone outcrop just over the cave entrance. He smacked his comm badge.

“Shaktaar! Get out of there…Jem Had…”

In a split second the figure tossed something into the cave mouth just as Shaktaar appeared at opening, phaser in hand. The fierce beam of light lanced outward, striking the enemy warrior square in the chest. With little resistance its body flew off into the frozen darkness.

On the icy stone, Shaktaar felt a rapid surge of air pressure from within the cave an instant before an invisible force of angry energy propelled him off of the cliff.  Fortunately the snow had built to a rather thick drift in the brush below and the massive half-Klingon landed  shoulder first into the powder.

*crack*

Taking a quick inventory, Shaktaar found that his phaser was lost in the explosion, his tricorder was crushed in the fall…and his left shoulder was almost definitely dislocated. “Shaktaar to Tarluk. I really hope you’re intact. My phaser is missing and my tricorder is destroyed.”

From the badge Tarluk responded. “And you? Are you injured?”

Shaktaar bit into his lip, once again tasting his own blood. The pain, now blinding, would fade in eventually. “Negative. I’m fine. Stay where you are. I’ll be there in a moment. There must be more Jem Hadar out there. Scan what you can.”

Shaktaar moved outward in the general direction of Tarluk’s last location. His comm badge was set to proximity location. The chirping became more rapid and at a higher pitch, indicating that Tarluk was near.

“Pssssssst.”

Shaktaar found his partner nearby, partially concealed behind a thicket of evergreen.

“Shaktaar, I know of a intercept mouse hole in this holodeck program. If I can get to an interface panel….

Another barrage of energy punched into the snow just meters from their location. Shaktaar visually scanned the clearing. “Look, Tarluk. Let’s discuss this holodeck trick later over some prune juice and blood worms. Right now, those Jem ‘Hadar are getting closer…and we’ve got to either get out of here or get THEM out of here. And I don’t plan on leaving until we complete this mission. We need a plan.”

Shaktaar slowly moved to his feet, hunching over to minimize himself as a target. “Tarluk. We’re out of options. We either fight, or surrender. And somehow…I don’t think the Jem’Hadar are taking prisoners on this visit. We’re going to have to rush them and hit them as hard as we can.”

The larger Klingon ensign still looked a bit dazed, “With ONE phaser?”

Shaktaar closed his eyes to muster some thought. “Yes. One phaser. With any luck, that’s all we’ll need. The storm is weakening and I can make out several forms. It seems they’ve taken position in the mouth of the ice cave, the ceiling of which is composed of nothing but ice. Ice that should respond quite nicely to phaser on maximum setting.“

A smile invaded Tarluk’ face.

Shaktaar reached for Tarluk’s phaser and continued. “My guess is that the cold is effecting the Jem’Hadar just as much as it is us. On my call, you bolt as fast as you can straight across the clearing, back toward the transport site. Once you’re in the open, I’ll charge their position like a runaway warp shuttle, feeding them phaser until it’s drained.”

Tarluk rose to a crouching position. “This IS a good day to…”

Shaktaar raised his hand. “Save it. I don’t want to die with my head full of Klingon cliché.”

Tarluk readied himself. “To the glory of battle!”

Shaktaar moaned, “You couldn’t resist, could you?”

For just one, brief moment, silence washed over the clearing. Shaktaar could hear the snow brushing the crust of ice on the drifts. The wind whipped into a crescendo. As the howling peaked, Shaktaar nodded to Tarluk. “Now.”

Tarluk dug into the freezing snow and shot out across the clearing, sending clouds of powder with each stride. The Klingon’s steps punched the crust, sounding loudly for the attention of the Jem’Hadar.  RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!”

As if echoing Tarluk’ strides, green bolts lanced out from the ledge at the mouth of the ice cave. Shaktaar leapt like a Bregorian Swamp Cat, closing the distance at a break-neck pace. At about ten meters from the ledge, Shaktaar’s thumb clamped the trigger of the phaser releasing a stream of destructive energy.

The startled Jem’Hadar stammered back, attempting to reclaim a strategic position. Just as they raised their weapons to fire at Shaktaar, the thick ceiling of black ice above their heads began to give. Large chunks of rock-hard ice fell down on top of the two warriors, crushing one instantly. The other only managed a blind shot upward and half of a horrible scream.

Shaktaar rolled to his right, colliding with an ice-covered tree trunk. HIs injured shoulder again took a violent blow. *crunch*

The cave-in seemed to rage for hours. When the rumbling stopped, Shaktaar pulled himself up to one knee. His weight crunched loudly into the snow, accompanied by a soft whirring sound coming from his phaser. Only then did Shaktaar notice that his white thumb still clamped the trigger of the spent phaser.

Tarluk approached from across the clearing. “Shaktaar. I found your phaser!”

Shaktaar looked up at his companion. “Great. Why don’t you stuff it up your….”

‘Computer. End program.’

The  snowy scene dissolved into the familiar grid of Holodeck 7. Lieutenant Cordoba stood just three meters from where Shaktaar crouched. “Yes, ensign? What were you going to say?”

Shaktaar attempted to stand to attention. “Nothing, sir. Just a little teasing to ease the….ughhhh…tension, sir.”

“Well gentlemen. You look like you could use a little cleaning up.”

In unison, the two ensigns responded. ”Yes, sir.”

“Report back to room 7-C in one hour for review. Mr. Shaktaar, report to sickbay 3 to see to that shoulder. Dismissed.”

Tarluk exited quickly, followed by Shaktaar. Just before Shaktaar reached the door, the Lieutenant spoke in a more casual tone. “Ensign Shaktaar.“

“Yes, sir?” The young officer stopped and turned.

Martin moved toward Shaktaar, pointing with his index finger at the still visible coffee stain on his tunic. “When you report back for review,  I’ll take mine with real cream and one sugar.”

Shaktaar grinned. “Yes, sir.”

Star Trek 001: On Deck

With the hiss of the Admiral’s closing door, Shaktaar made a mental notch on the back wall of his brain.  “One down…”.  He walked briskly to the turbo lift which would send him toward Holodeck 7.

As Shaktaar rounded the corner just before the lift his nose caught the inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee. His Klingon ancestors were kind enough to include a keen sense of smell in his genetic package.  Against the wall, near the restroom doors, waited an old fashioned, non-replicator refreshment cart – the kind afforded by high ranking
officers and civilians with far too much disposable income. He stared at the chronometer near the lift, then quickly back at the unattended cart.  With barely a second’s debate, the half-Klingon invaded the cart.

“Real coffee. I can’t pass this up.”

Shaktaar waited for the lift with his back against the wall, watching the restroom door with a trace of anxiety. He smiled, swirling the last luscious gulp of Terran Java in the Starfleet-branded cup. As the lift opened, he raised the still-swirling brew to his lips, and…..

“DAMN!” A rogue drop of coffee jumped the brim of the cup and crash-landed about 7.5 centimeters from his Starfleet comm-badge.  “No!” Shaktaar spun and regarded the chronometer. He’d already lagged far too long. He was sure the Admiral’s office alerted Holodeck 7. Lieutenant Martin was sure to notice the time lag.

With lightening speed, Shaktaar closed the gap between the lift and the restroom door. The door responded to Shaktaar’s urgency, only to allow a frontal collision with an exiting commander. Shaktaar jumped back to a full embarrassed attention, glimpsing the coffee cart’s attendant just behind the startled officer. The commander smiled, “Medical emergency, ensign?” Shaktaar swallowed hard. “No sir. Uh…not at all.” He pivoted, and grimly returned to the lift.

“No time left…”

Shaktaar entered the lift and spoke his destination through a mouth-full of finger. He blotted at the stain with his dampened index finger, succeeding at converting the spot into an even larger smear. In what seemed like seconds, the doors opened and the inevitable presented itself: directly across from the lift the wall displayed a plaque in bold, Starfleet lettering: TURBOLIFT 7.  Shaktaar stepped out and over to the holodeck doors, whispering under his breath, “What are the odds of an instructor with imperfect sight?”

The doors parted and a smiling lieutenant stepped out. Shaktaar snapped to attention, sure this would be his most embarrassing defeat; done in by a drop of fully-caffeinated evil.

“Ensign Shaktaar reporting for duty, sir.”

Star Trek 001: Reporting for Training

SD: 90530.0830

Shaktaar was ushered out of the reception area and into a large, fairly impressive office dominated by a massive antique desk. Seated behind it was a stern red-haired woman in full dress uniform.  She smiled slightly as Shaktaar entered and stood at full attention.

“Ensign Shaktaar reporting for duty, sir!”

Vice Admiral McGeehon nodded, accepting the PADD the young Klingon officer handed her. This was the second Klingon to pass through her office that day.  “At ease,” she instructed. She scanned over the small screen as the details of the Ensign’s record scrolled past.

“I am not surprised ensign, that the bulk of your training prepares you for tactical and security duty. You must make your father proud.”

Shaktaar subtly bit into his lower lip. “Yes, sir. I…would imagine.”

The Vice Admiral betrayed a slight grin. “Though I am disappointed by your disciplinary record. I trust we’ve seen the end of your…wilder days.”

Shaktaar bit harder into his lip – the taste of blood beginning to flow into his mouth. “Yes, sir.”

McGeehon nodded and handed the PADD back to Shaktaar. “Well, Ensign, everything looks to be in order. I’m going to assign you to Holodeck 7.  Lieutenant Martin will be your instructor.  Report to him right away. Any questions?”

Shaktaar nodded. “None, sir.”

“Very well. Dismissed.”

The ensign turned sharply and exited.

SD: 90530.0835

With the hiss of the Admiral’s closing door, Shaktaar made a mental notch on the back wall of his brain.  “One down…”.  He walked briskly
to the turbo lift  which would send him toward Holodeck 7.

As Shaktaar rounded the corner just before the lift, his nose caught the inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee. His Klingon ancestors were  kind enough to include a keen sense of smell in his genetic package. Against the wall, near the restroom doors, waited an old fashioned,  non-replicator refreshment cart – the kind afforded by high ranking officers and civilians with far too much disposable income. He stared at  the chronometer near the lift, then quickly back at the unattended cart.  With barely a second’s debate, the half Klingon invaded the cart.  “Real coffee. I can’t pass this up.”

Shaktaar waited for the lift with his back against the wall, watching the restroom door with a trace of anxiety. He smiled, swirling the last  luscious gulp of Terran Java in the Starfleet-branded cup. As the lift opened, he raised the still-swirling brew to his lips, and…..

“DAMN!” A rogue drop of coffee jumped the brim of the cup and crash-landed about 7.5 centimeters from his Starfleet comm-badge.  “No!”  Shaktaar spun and regarded the chronometer. He’d already lagged far too long. He was sure the Admiral’s office alerted Holodeck 7. Lieutenant  Martin was sure to notice the time lag.

With lightening speed, Shaktaar closed the gap between the lift and the restroom door. The door responded to Shaktaar’s urgency, only to allow  frontal collision with an exiting commander. Shaktaar jumped back to a full embarrassed attention, glimpsing the coffee cart’s attendant just behind the startled officer. The commander smiled, “Medical emergency, ensign?” Shaktaar swallowed hard. “No sir. Uh…not at all.” He pivoted, and grimly returned to the lift. “No time left…”

Shaktaar entered the lift, and spoke his destination through a mouth-full of finger. He blotted at the stain with his dampened index  finger, succeeding at converting the spot into an even larger smear. In what seemed like seconds, the doors opened and the inevitable presented itself: directly across from the lift, the wall displayed a plaque in bold, Starfleet lettering: TURBOLIFT 7.  Shaktaar stepped out and over to the holodeck doors, whispering under his breath, “What are the odds of an instructor with imperfect sight?”

The doors parted and a smiling lieutenant stepped out. Shaktaar snapped to attention, sure this would be his most embarrassing defeat…done in
by a drop of fully-caffeinated evil. “Ensign Shaktaar reporting for duty, sir.”

Star Trek 001: Reporting for Duty

Shaktaar felt something move on the tree he was braced against. He knew it was hunting him, but not how close it had gotten.  The night was laden with moisture, and the fires from the Great City exhaled thick smoke into the sky.  The wind was full of scents…death the most real and overbearing. Shaktaar took three deep but silent breaths, pulling his dagger smoothly from its scabbard on the third. He held his breath and bit deeply into his lip to hold back the suffocating fear. All at once, he opened his mind to one instinct…to bring down the predator before it did the same to him. With a rage of sudden fury, Shaktaar spun around the tree to face the beast. “GGGGRRRRRRANNNNNNNGRRRRRRR”.  It’s roar pierced Shaktaar’s ears like white hot needles. The Rakrhaat snapped to its haunches in an attempt to add gravity to the strength of his next blow. Double claws struck at Shaktaar like summer lightning. Without thought, Shaktaar simply fell to his knees. As the Rakrhaat’s claws exploded into the dense bark above his head, Shaktaar closed his eyes and thrust with all the strength his muscles could command. The dagger split the Rakrhaat’s chest bone with a nauseating snap, releasing a torrent of black blood into Shaktaa’s face.
“GGGGGGGRRRRRRRRAAAAANNNNNNNNNNGRRRRRRR”

“Ensign?”

“GRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAANNNNNGGGR!”

“Ensign!?”

“GGGRRRRRROI…..Huh? Uh…oh.  I’m sorry, I must have been snoring.
Have we arrived?” The startled Shaktaar quickly straightened in his seat, oblivious to the small patch of spittle wetting the left side of his mustache. “I don’t normally snore. It’s just a trait I picked up from my father. He’s full-blooded…”

“Klingon. I know. You cursed in your sleep in fluent Klingonese. It’s ok, don’t be embarrassed. My first roommate at the academy was Klingon. I know all the good curses and I’ve become immune to Klingon snoring.” The ensign smiled as she turned back toward her seat.

Shaktaar attempted a smile. He didn’t remember seeing the striking human
woman when he boarded the shuttle. Then again…the going-away party the
night before dulled just about every sense.  “Uh, my name’s Shaktaar.”

The ensign stopped and looked over her shoulder. “Nice to meet you
Shaktaar.” She smiled slightly and turned the corner. Shaktaar could
feel a frown overpower his forehead, “Polite, isn’t she?”

The shuttle landed with over-practiced perfection. Shaktaar gathered his
pack and carry-on and moved quickly to the exit. The crowd of young
ensigns clogged the door and slowly began forming standard single file.
Shaktaar was last. “Damn.” After several minutes, he passed through into
the bay of the Lunar Base. He stopped abruptly, dropped his bags to the
deck and stared reverently through the observation view port at Earth.
“Armstrong. Holy Shhhhhhit.”

“Watch your mouth, Ensign.” Shaktaar jumped slightly and spun to face a
stern looking, white haired human standing with his arms behind his back. Whether it was being startled or the dim light of the bay, Shaktaar couldn’t distinguish the officer’s rank on the uniform. He snapped to attention. “I’m sorry Sir. It was a long trip, and I….er, Ensign Shaktaar reporting for orders, Sir.”

The officer’s face softened with a slight smile. “Of course you are, Ensign. Room 13C in 30 minutes. Dismissed.” Shaktaar grabbed his bags and disappeared into the corridor, with one thought steadily chanting over and over. “Coffee…..”

An apology, a promise and a gift.

Aloha, my friends.

I know. I’m a bad fiction-tease. I’ve been so bogged down by school and work..that I’ve allowed life to get in the way of living. I am sorry.

But things will change. Promise.

So here’s the best gift i can give you. Enjoy it and savor the groove!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p_2_EJogf2A

Last Night – Chapter Eight

I landed on the sidewalk, about fifteen feet from the front door to the Naio building. The sky was swelling with pulpy clouds, thick with a greasy film. This wasn’t good. From where I stood, I could see that both front doors were hanging limp, off their hinges. The massive panes of safety glass were shattered, leaving a dim constellation of glistening shards scattered across the inner lobby. The muscles in my arms tensed in anticipation of action. The hairs on the back of my neck bristled. I drew in my wings and willed Serascim into my hand. My fingers clamped the sword’s grip and I walked toward the doors. I swear I could hear laughter from within.

“Motherfuckers.”

Whatever was in the building knew I was here. Subtlety was the first casualty of this encounter. WIth one kick, the doors flew from their bent restraints. The steel plates were driven into the display case across from the entrance, glass and vintage audio visual equipment flying across the room in random directions. Again, I heard the laughter. And it was definitely not in my mind. Time to get bossy.

“You’re not supposed to be here. As dumb as you are, you know this place is forbidden!”

The laughter was pissing me off. Worse yet, I couldn’t help but smell thick, foaming blood. Lots of it.

“By order of the Covenant and the rights of the Celestial Order…”

The sound of clapping cut me off abruptly. I hate being cut off. A major pet peeve.

A rasping voice accompanied a slouched figure moving toward me. The overpowering smell of too many cigarettes and unbrushed teeth hit me hard.

“Quit your shit, Wings! We know why you’re here…and it’s too late. Computer boy’s in pieces. You wanna be next?”

I couldn’t hold back. Against all restraint, my wings snapped outward, buffeting the hundreds of glass shards violently against the walls. In an instant of distraction the vampire’s eyes jutted toward the glass and he sunk into a guarded crouch. In his hands, two knives hooked downward like vicious viper fangs. But the minor distraction was all I needed. I used the lift from my wings to leap upward, my head tucked with my shoulders cutting into the acoustic ceiling tiles. In a rapid arc, I moved downward onto the vampire with angry force…Serascim ahead, slicing through bone and sinew. It was over before I landed. Crumbled ceiling tiles fell like leaden snow.

I snapped the blade outward in one quick motion. The demon’s blood sprayed the industrial wallpaper like paint in a Jackson Pollack nightmare.

“Next?!”

I heard running. Something was closing the distance across the carpet in the far hallway. By the sound it was definitely taking huge strides. No human can run like that. Suddenly it stopped. I passed into the shadow against the lobby wall. These things can see in the dark, but I wanted it to know that I have command of the elements of darkness as well as the light.

The approaching thing came into view. In its human existence it would have been morbidly obese. But altered in its demon state, this vampire’s features were grotesquely exaggerated. Muscles bulged and were slick with what appeared to be chunky vomit. The plopping sound as it hit the floor was almost enough to turn my stomach. Its head was far too small for its body, which told me that this thing was probably a in metamorphosis stage – altering its appearance. To add insult to revulsion, this slimy prick had Jesse’s rain jacket stretched across its girth. I paid good money for that thing last Christmas.

“You fat prick. Drop the jacket, and run for the door. Your best hope is that I decide not to gut you on your way out.”

The thing cocked its raunchy pin-head to the right as it adjusted its shifting jaw to speak.

“I think I’ll keep the jacket. If you want to wear a piece of this Jap’s wardrobe, we left a pretty big piece of skin draped across the copy machine. Make a nice hat, Wings.”

By the time his tiny jaw closed off the last word I was lunging with Serascim at point. The blade drove through the beast’s left shoulder like a hot screwdriver through a brick of soft tofu. But I underestimated the leech. When I jerked the blade downward, he drove his hand – nails extended – into my side, just below my left rib cage. Something gave way in my gut. He effortlessly threw me overhand down the corridor from which he came, trailed by a thick gout of my blood. At least I was able to slash him up the torso. I wasn’t going to let go of Serascim.

I hit the cold tile floor hard and I slid a good ten feet further into the shadow. My blood smacked the cold floor and helped me slide violently into the wall. I felt my organs shift and move as the healing began. The floor began to shake as my attacker moved toward me. This wasn’t the time for cool reservation. I spoke ancient words and the aether gave up its power.

“Rangaar Akîr!”

A spray of golden light overcame the corridor before me, enveloping the massive demon. Its filthy skin sloughed and drooled on the floor as it desperately tried to hold it’s muscles and fat close to its body. The effort was futile. Wet chunks of yellow lard and loosened bands of fouled muscle disgorged themselves in an instant. The beast literally fell apart before my eyes. The raincoat didn’t survive.

The light subsided and I could see a moving figure in my peripheral vision to the left. I rose quickly and entered the conference room. Across the room, a female vampire was holding a twisted and rather sharp looking piece of metal to Jesse’s throat. At least he was alive. The copy machine to my left was indeed draped with a large section of human skin, dripping with blood from the underside. The copier’s access panel was torn free, explaining the angry shape of the vampire’s makeshift weapon. I slowly moved to my right, the vampire tracking me with her yellowed eyes. Off against the right I could see Jesse’s coworker Sarah stuffed into the recycling hopper, half of her torso flayed down to the muscles. Poor girl.

“Ok. I’m going to put this as plain as I can. Let him go…and I will deliver you from evil. Permanently. “

The bitch smiled a hideous grin. Her teeth looked like they had been deliberately chipped and sharpened, forming a hideous maw.

“And what will you do if I just rip his throat out? You know, for shhhhhits and grins.”

Her horrible smile stretched wide and a laughter rose from her throat. The wet sounds brought up mucous and spittle, spraying Jesse’s hair and leaving a slick ribbon of bloody phlegm. I was loosing patience.

“You can try to kill him. I don’t think you can do it.”

The beast grinned. And as her arm brought the sharpened steel in a downward arc, I threw the blade Serascim. In a flash the blade swept with the speed of lightning, the smell of ozone exploding into the room. Her razor sharp steel cut about two centimeters of Jesse’s throat before Serascim lifted the vampire’s body and pinned it to a steel filing cabinet. The vampire writhed in agony, trying desperately to free itself from impalement. I cut her head off in a single stroke of her own makeshift weapon.

Jesse had collapsed to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. I picked him up and pulled him into my arms, wiping the slick from his face.

“It’s ok. You’re safe. Are there any others?”

He shook his head from side to side.

I smiled gently.

“I’ll take you home.”

I stood and turned toward Sarah’s body, and began to cry. The woman’s soul was no longer there, and the telltale wounds beneath her left ear betrayed the awful truth: she would rise as a revenant. I pulled Serascim from the vampire’s corpse, pulled Jesse’s face into my shoulder and quietly beheaded Sarah.

A prayer would do no good.

I took Jesse in my arms and moved toward the front entrance. Already Covenant operatives were arriving to remove the incident. Their efficiency never ceases to amaze me.

We entered the Portal Mouth and I remembered Robi as he passed through a mere half hour earlier. He was dying. And if he passed while in the Veneer, his human form would become prime real estate for any number of demon kind. As for his soul…

We stepped through the portal at my home as the sun was coming up over the ocean. I brought Jesse down gently on the grass, and let the new sunlight bathe him in warmth. The yard was a wreck. Two Covenant agents were assessing the situation, silently relating instructions via cellphone. Andrew was nowhere in site. I took Jesse by the hand and willed the small wound on his neck to heal. We walked toward the house.

We passed through the car port, and Andrew rounded the corner with a troubled look on his face.

“Did Robi…”

“Yes. He’s back.” Andrew wiped a spray of sweat from his face.

“Is he…”

“Ok? Yeah. He’s fine. Perfectly…fine.”

“But he was…”

Andrew held up his hand.

“You gotta see something. He came out of the portal just a few minutes ago. He was completely naked. He kissed me, stretched, then walked toward the back yard. He said that he had to burn the demon to ash before it had a chance to return to the Veneer. He made a pile of brush and tossed in an incendiary grenade. The rest…you gotta see.”

I could hear a loud crackle from the back yard. As I looked up, a massive trail of black smoke was winding up through the mango branches. Waves of intense heat were knocking fruit to the ground. I followed Andrew.

I turned the corner and felt a wave of shock. There was an immense pyre of branches and uprooted small trees. The flames stretched twenty feet into the mango canopy and had almost destroyed the demon’s remains. At the center, standing at the top was Robi. He was naked, with his muscled chest absent of the mortal wound he took with him from Diamond Head. The flames wrapped themselves around his legs and caressed his arms, neck and head. He gently swayed from side to side, bathing in the flame as if drinking its heat. I opened the door and let Jesse go into the house. I took a few cautious steps toward the fire, afraid to get too close.

“Hey Robi. Uh, you look good. Why don’t you come on down here. Let’s talk.”

He just smiled and rolled his head in a wide arch, cracking his neck.

“No can do, man. Gotta make sure this bastards gone gone gone!”

He WAS drinking the heat. Or more accurately, he seemed to be absorbing its power. His aura was radically different.

“Ok. Well, um…we’ll be waiting out in the driveway. Come on over when you, uh…finish!”

He just smiled the biggest smile I’d seen in a long time.

“This is such a fucking rush, man! Look at me…I’m the burning man!”

I put my arm around Andrew and walked him back through the carport. His shoulders were trembling. This wasn’t the same Robi that Andrew came with, and he knows better than anyone what can happen when the Veneer is opened wide to this plane.

I tried to reassure him.

“It’ll be ok. We’ll figure it out.”

I didn’t believe myself. But I knew Andrew would be grateful for the words. We sat down in the grass. From the back yard we heard Robi at the top of his voice.

“I’M THE BURNING MAN!”

My Inner Punisher

Ok. So you may or may not know me well. But trust me when I say that I (pause) believe (pause) in peace.

I love animals, babies, old folks, dads with their kids, moms getting flowers, the color blue, everyday heroes and random acts of kindness. I try to save the environment, wipe out racism and help people understand that we’re all one race. In order to survive as a species, we need to come together and work toward a common goal. So that’s theme. Give peace chance. End the war. Free Tibet. And, darn it…let’s get along.

But ya know, even a peacenik like me can reach his plateau. You know, the goodness ceiling. The final straw, so to speak.

I am so sick and tired of witnessing – day by day – human acts of abomination. A couple of months ago a man threw a neighbor’s baby off of a highway overpass. A man was arrested for raping his own infant. Another stellar example of humanity apparently hit a woman with his car as she suddenly jumped in the path of his exterminator company truck. While driving her to the hospital -according to Saint Bug Killer – the woman became hysterical and jumped from the moving vehicle. Afraid of losing his job, he proceeded to drive to the hardware store where he purchased some duct tape, shovel and other assorted grave digging supplies. All the while, the young woman’s decaying corpse lay stuffed in his truck utility box. When frustration reached a fever pitch, he simply waded her out into the ocean and let her go. At his trial, his defense lawyer supported his claims that the woman died when she jumped out of the moving truck – striking her head on a rock. Silly girl! And ya know what? This young feller didn’t commit murder. NAY!!! He simply made a “bad decision”.

So. Back to me. The peace man. Bringer of smile. Spreader of happiness.

Know this. If someone I loved was killed and stuffed in a tool box awaiting a clandestine burial by a man who made a bad decision…

…my Inner Punisher would open a huge, motherfucking can of whoop ass!

Pray for us.

Barnes Ignoble

Well. One of either two things has happened. A) I’ve reached the venerable age and life-experience level to earn the title: curmudgeon. B) I’ve once again identified an evil downward trend in human civilization – THE FLOOR SITTERS!Ok, boys and girls. I get it. The big book stores actually encourage you to grab a book, magazine or manga/graphic novel, and have at it. Read the thing! Peruse, review, flip, skip, absorb…hell, photocopy the thing if you want. They can afford your NOT buying their merchandise. And besides, YOU are the sole purpose of this universal real estate, right? So, have a sit and enjoy the complete Lord of the Rings series! Yahoo! God bless! Shazam! B&N, Borders and their posse actually provide comfy butt-cuddlers for your comatosian pleasure. With you, I take no umbrage. Carry on…

Now. The other form of newer-than-cellphone organisms – I’ll call them FLOOR SITTERS…well you had better beware. I’m after you! You grab your stack of magazines and crash wherever the hell you want. Peel open your favorite girlie manga, bennnnnnd back the pages, rabbit ear whenever you get a yawn on. I mean, RIP INTO THAT BITCH! The books, the mags..THE FLOOR is yours for the taking.

I’ve seen it all. Reading while eating a full plate lunch (boxed meal) in the Mystery section. Travel gets the frumpy house mom, deeply engrossed in a hilarious collection of Farside comics. Fantasy? OH CHRIST, FANTASY!! Walking through there is a fucking slalom. Vampires and Dungeons and Dragons and many, many, many, many different kinds of mancers with head-jacks, trolls, wizards and pixies and just so many goddamned critters you have an inalienable right to enjoy!

FLOOR SITTERS are in the Bargain section, Children’s, Home Improvement, Art, Gay/Women’s Studies..my god. Gimme me a break or stab me in the eye with one of their snapped-off finger bones!

Ok, know this. If I stumble across one more y’all…I’m gonna step right the fuck on you! I’m going to kick you, trip on you, knee you, slip and “accidentally” knoffle your noggins. And you wanna know why? YOU DESERVE IT! The floor is made for walking! The book shelves hold books so that customers might VIEW the selection. It’s not difficult to understand. Get the hell off your lazy, cheap asses. You wanna review a book? Go online! Research. MOOCH!

This is my truth. This is my manifesto. Hear me and know that…should we meet in B&N or Borders – be standing. Prop against a pillar. Sit in a cushy chair. Hover over the bookmark rack and tither at the mere mortal not so empowered. But if you’re on the floor – you low-life fuck – I’m gonna kick you. Hard.

BAM!

The Night Before Anti-Christmas

(MATURE THEMES – WARNING)

Aloha, my friends…

I wrote this one strange and lonely night just a bit before Christmas, 2005.

Please allow me this holiday whimsy inspired by the late master of the macabre, H.P. Lovecraft and his pseudonym L. Frank Baum. Together to the world they bring Oz, Cthulhu, Santa, the Elder Things and me…

Be warned – this is dark stuff. But then again, so is the Bible.

Merry Christmas with all my love!

HO HO HO!
Brett

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Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house
Not a creature left breathing, not even a mouse.
The kitty cat hung by the chimney with care,
With rope made of sinew and blood-mottled hair.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
With urine-soaked newspaper stuffed in their heads.
My wife in her panic, and me in my drink,
Were frozen in terror with drawers full of stink.

When up from the kitchen came a sulfurous reek,
and eggnog fueled bile forbade me to speak.
So away to the window I flew like a comet,
to expel too much turkey and Maker’s Mark vomit.

My yard all covered in snow fallen fresh
and a garage-sized orifice of puckering flesh.
When all of the sudden I heard from the den
a sickening thumping again and again.

So off to the hallway I started so quick
but to slip in a viscous puddle of sick.
I bit through my tongue on the way to a shout
and choked on the torrent as blood filled my mouth.

MARY, THERE’S SOMEBODY DOWN IN THE KITCHEN!
But Mary was taken by shakin’ and twitchin’.
So, I jumped to my feet and threw open the door
and stepped to the hallway, not there anymore.

Shout SALLY! Shout BILLY! Shout MITTENS! Shout ROVER! -
not knowing by now their existence was over.
So over the splintered once Mahogany rail,
I leapt to the burning with a passionate wail!

As I dropped the intruder had started to laugh
and toss Rover’s head as he ripped him in half.
I grabbed for a golf club and shot down the hall
past a sickening phrase drawn in blood on the wall:

MERRY CHRIST FUCK,
TO YOU ONE AND ALL!!!

I shrieked and recoiled as he withdrew from the den,
with somebody’s testicle impaled on a pen.
NO DANCING PLUMS OF SUGAR I’LL EAT THIS HERE BALL
as this Anti-Claus Demon dragged his bag down the hall.

SO WILLIAM, YOU THOUGHT YOU’D AVOID ALL YOUR SIN,
WHILE HELPING YOURSELF TO YOUR SISTER-IN-LAW’S SKIN.
AND SO NOW HERE I DECK THESE HALLS WITH YOUR LIFE.
THIS MESS YOU CAN BLAME ON THE CURSE OF YOUR WIFE!

BRING DOWN THAT BASTARD AND RIP OUT HIS HEART,
BY TEARING THE LIFE THAT WE’VE BUILT ALL APART!
SHATTER HIS FAIRY TALE LIFE SO PERVERSE!
I SUMMON YOU DEMON WITH THIS BLOODY CURSE!

Then up from above my wife started to sing
while Anti-Clause fondled and groped at his thing.
IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED, MISS MARGARET SCORN?
TO SUMMON ME NOW WITH MY HOLIDAY HORN?

She dropped down before me and started to shed,
the soiled night gown that she wore in our bed.
OH MASTER, YOU BASTARD TO YOU I NOW SING!
TAKE ME! IMPALE ME NOW ON THAT THING!

Then off toward the back door I quickly did lurch,
as back in the den came a sickening splurch.
I ran out the mud room and into the street
on glass-shredded masses I used to call feet.

HELP ME! MY FAMILY! MY KIDS THEY’RE ALL DEAD!
My past infidelity danced in my head.
Further and further I ran through the pain,
and with each new step I grew less and less sane.

So here from my cottage of padding and drain,
in this bright wonderland of the criminally insane…
This season be nice for the naughty will fall.
Merry Christmas…Merry Christmas…to one and to all.

Last Night – Chapter Seven

Ryan and I reached the mouth of the Veneer portal at Diamond Head and I could sense my energy flagging. I stopped abruptly. Lightheaded and unable trust my senses.

“You ok?”

Ryan waited at the mouth. With one knee down on the ground he loaded rounds into his pistol. The amber glow intensified as he breathed the air of deep Otherworld.

“Robi. You have to go without me.”

Ryan’s head snapped around. I could see his eyes starting to glow with the amplified adrenalin surge of a warrior breathing this kind of energy.

“What the fuck!? Jesse’s out there, Brett! We gotta go!”

I closed my eyes tightly and the tears began to rise. He was right. The one person I truly loved more than anything else in either world was in jeopardy. But I would have to remain within Otherworld.

“Robi! I have no choice. Rex and I are connected. Our spirits are connected. No…more than that.We can’t stay on the same plane together or we start to die. If I go out there we’ll both be fighting at half our power or less. I can’t risk it. Go without me. I’ll catch up when I can.”

Ryan stared at me for what seemed an eternity. He knew what I was saying was true.

“I’ll protect Jesse. Don’t worry. We’ll meet you in the crater at Diamond Head.”

He nodded his head and smiled that Robi smile…a little bit cocky and a whole lot of warmth. Without another word, he turned and leapt though the mouth. Gone.

The cop car was moving up Pulama Place faster than any vehicle ever had. The road was made of dirt and shattered macadam. This was farm country, so the little lane had no street lights and an unwritten speed limit of ‘old lady slow’. Andrew was caught just a bit off guard. Despite the speed though, he managed to make it down the driveway before the cop car overtook the property. The siren was screaming and the blue lights were at full intensity. These cops were in heavy response mode, and the neighbors were stirring from their houses, finally screwing up the bravery to see what all the noise was.

The police cruiser came to a violent halt in the dirt fronting the neighbors property. The tires shot a gout of rich soil and decayed leaves into the bushes. Andrew stood in the center of the driveway with his arms folded. Further down the drive a massive bear beat a cowering figure hard into the lawn with a fifty pound chunk of loose concrete.

“Put your hands above your head. Don’t make any sudden moves!”

The loud speaker on the cruiser’s roof gave up the command at full volume. Andrew’s face broke into a mischievous grin. Before the cops had a chance to even reach for the door latches, Andrew brought his arms up and out toward the car in a gesture of giving. The air popped inside the cruiser and a torrent of hellish fire replaced every molecule of oxygen. The windows melted instantaneously while the figures inside fought the flame. Andrew grin broadened into a sarcastic smile.

“Fuckin posers. If you were real cops you would have brought reinforcements.”

The car doors fell off to either side, and the two figures stepped out onto the grass. The enormous tree above the conflagration had already caught fire in its upper canopy. Andrew backed about ten feet toward the house.

“These things aren’t native to flame…they’ve got protection. Great.”

The two demons stood on either side of the burning car. Andrew backed away a few more feet in anticipation of the exploding gas tank. As the “driver” mirrored Andrew’s move, the “passenger” swayed slightly. Andrew knew the signs of flagging magical protection. Again, he smiled.

“Oh, officers..too bad about your car. I was looking forward to riding in the back seat. You still got the handcuffs, don’t you? Or did they…melt?”

The driver’s clothing and borrowed skin slid off of his frame revealing a creature larger than it appeared in human form. The demon was covered with thick ropes of gray sinew, giving the impression of a ganglia of sickly and gnarled tree roots. Andrew felt a sudden shiver as the figure moved closer. Past the blackened flesh that once covered the face, he could see a broad smile of ivory white, oddly thin teeth.

Then the gas tank went. A solid, bass ‘whump’ preceded the horrible scream as the steel tank gave up its awesome fire. The windows of the surrounding houses shattered as if stricken by lightning. The brush flanking the already burning tree burst into flames. The passenger fell under the heat as his protective shell gave way. He began writhing and attempting to scream while he sucked the burning air deep into his lungs.

Andrew fell back several feet, but he managed to maintain his own protective spell. As he rose to his feet he could tell that his opponent was making its own assault.

“So, it looks like its just the two of us.”

The demon stood in place, unshaken by the explosion.

A sudden growl erupted from further down the drive as Rex was lifted off his feet and thrown, crashing into the car port. The Veiled demon lunged at Rex’s fallen form.

Andrew dodged to the left onto a pad of soft grass. The loose dirt beneath the surface gave slightly and Andrew used his momentum to slide into a deep crouch. He raised his right hand to release an offensive spell he’d been holding, but the stream of deep red energy lanced forward and the demon dodged to the right. The spell struck a neighbor’s large fishing boat parked on it’s trailer out on the street. The molecules of the laminated wood suddenly smacked against one another with an awesome force, causing a man-sized portion of hull to violently explode into a million splinters of sawdust.

“FUCK!!” Andrew felt the energy drain quickly as he tried to recover from the spell. “Stand still, motherfucker!” He brought his left hand up with the companion spell. Again the red bolt shot toward its target. This time the spell hit center mass, lifting the demon up and back into the neighbor’s stone wall at a horrible velocity. The demon’s molecules transferred the reaction into the very stones of the structure causing it to shudder and buckle wildly. The creature’s body crumbled to the ground silently in a mass of fluid, dissolving bone and thick, fibrous ooze.

Another growl from the driveway cued Andrew to turn in time to see Rex pounce with awesome force onto the Veiled demon. His claws sunk deep into the demon’s gut as he lifted the screaming thing high into the air. And with a final growl and a sudden drop, the demon came in two…spraying acid bile into the bear’s face and fur.

Again, Rex growled into the morning air. The pain and triumph were overwhelming as he beat his chest with his two massive paws.

“Rex!”

Andrew moved closer to his old friend. “You better get back, buddy. You’re hurt pretty bad.”

The bear dropped to four legs with a massive sigh. He nodded his head then turned silently toward the portal into the Veneer.

I could sense a change in my essence. Rex was home, and I had a job to do. I rose to my feet and leapt into the portal mouth falling with ease into the world of man. My wings carried me up and out into the earthly sky. With a buffet of my wings, I descended onto the grass ringing the east parking lot of the community college. Instantly I could smell the acrid smoke of burning plastic and fuel. This wasn’t good. Police sirens cried out just blocks away. I tried to take in the entire landscape as my eyes scanned from the near empty lot to the garden walk strewn with broken human bodies.

“Brett! Quickly…I have to get back!”

I turned and saw an old friend flying quickly across the parking lot with preternatural speed.

“What the…”

Gabriel was a Hawaiian man in life. Over six feet tall and sculpted of solid muscle. He was the guardian of Diamond Head and an old friend.

With large black wings he landed – and I gasped at what he held in his outstretched arms. Hanging like a lifeless rag doll, Ryan’s eyes remained open. His torso had been opened in what appears a single slice. The ragged shirt he once wore now barely covered the exposed mass of intestines protruding from his gut. He didn’t have long.

“Robi!”

My friend’s eyes rolled back in his head. I was shocked that he was still conscious. I looked up into Gabriel’s eyes, and I could tell that he saw the same thing that I did. Ryan’s time had come and he would have to be released to the other side. He spat up a wad of deep red blood.

“Put me down…”

Gabriel placed him on the grass.

“I want to go….back…in…”

He rolled his hand over and motioned limply toward the gate portal mouth.

“…Andrew”

I put my hand on his head and began speaking the words. Gabriel stood valiantly at guard.

Ryan smacked my hand away. “NO! Andrew…Andrew…I have…”

I put my hand back on his head just as I heard the laughter.

“Gabe! Hold them off! He has to pass.”

Gabriel’s wings snapped high over his head as a shark-tooth Hawaiian sword appeared in his hand. Three dark figures walked out of the shadows at the edge of the walk across the parking lot.

“We’ll take the warrior child off your hands, Aaaaaaaangel! It’s only fair. We just want to claim the kill.”

Gabriel stood in defiance. “Back off vampires. You have no claim here.”

The three figures hissed as if covered in a blanket of scalding steam. The three were the exact opposite of my kind – dark creatures often mistaken as vampires because of their consumption of human blood. While we release the life force of a dying human into the Veneer, they consume it for its raw energy.

Suddenly two of the figures took flight in a direct assault on Gabriel, his sword aflame with golden celestial energy. The third attacker came directly at me. I had no choice but to stand and meet his attack. I willed Serascim into my hand and brought the blade in a downward, intercepting arch. The beast screamed as my blade passed through the meat of its left hand, liberating four of the five fingers. He brought his other hand up in a quick jab with his sharpened nails, raking across my face. Blinding pain shot through my brain, his unholy energy violating my senses. Blood poured into my eyes.

Then out of my peripheral vision, I saw Ryan run toward the Veneer gate.

“NO!! Robi! You can’t go in there! NO!!!”

He ran with a vulgar limp, his left hand holding his guts together, his right hand reaching out toward the portal mouth. I took to the air, closing about half the distance as Ryan reached the gate. He leapt head first into the fissure, his loose intestine trailing behind him like a runaway dog’s leash.

I turned back toward Gabriel, my attacker body checked me with terrible strength. I was brought down to the pavement with incredible force, my left cheek ripped open exposing the muscle beneath. I could no longer see clearly. My field of vision was blighted by alternating flashes of light and dead shadow. Blood flooded my eyes. But I drove Serascim upward in a final attempt to take my attacker off guard. The blade ran through its throat, opening the back of the skull and spearing the brain on its shaft.

I rolled to my knees. Gabriel reached out and helped me to my feet.

“He’s gone, Brett. That’s not good.”

“ I know, Gabe. I know…”

When a human spirit is released by a Guardian such as myself, the body becomes an empty husk and the spirit is at peace. When a vampire or Dark One drains a human of its blood, it becomes a revenant and balances on the edge between the evil form of their kind and the celestial breed of ours. But if a human gives up the spirit from within Otherworld, the physical host is opened wide to possession and transformation. And within Otherworld there are many who would welcome a chance to play god in the act of creation.

I turned toward the center of campus. “Jesse!”

As the cops raced into the parking lot, I took flight..even as my eyes started to heal and my brain fought for clarity.