Short Entry 30 : Signed Contract

 Amanda Pauline Moors died that day. That she already knew she would wasn't really something that made it better. When the day reached the end, she was as dead as she knew she would be in the morning when, for the last time, she woke up. As always, she kissed her still sleeping boyfriend before moving to the bathroom to make her self presentable. Not that she actually needed the make up and bath and all those things. One of the reasons she had been chosen was her beauty, and now, five years after, on the day of her death, she was as beautiful, or more, than then. If her boyfriend felt that she had kissed him with more passion than she normally did, returning from the bathroom, a robe on her body and nothing else, he never said. He barely woke up to say goodbye when she left for work. He would, in fact, only really wake up hours later at the tireless ringing of his alarm.
 Amanda had decided, long ago, that this day should be different only because she would die and nothing else. So she took the same bus to work, she ate at the same place, talked shit with the same colleagues and even managed to advance a fair bit of her work before the time to leave for home. Bravely she managed to not think about what was surely coming, but deep in her mind there was a faint hope, as the hours passed and she lived still, that for some reason she would not die in that day. She, as it is with most of us, had no idea how she would die, where it would happen or even the time of the day. Only the day had been agreed upon five years before. On her way home she broke her contract. Somehow, the fact that the day lingered on and she still lived started to weight on her, so as she sat on the bus, she took out a small notebook that was always on her purse and began writing down:
 "My name is Amanda Pauline Moors and five years ago I won the lottery. Not really, but it how my sudden improvement in life was explained to IRS and all that. In fact I signed a contract saying that I agreed to die five years after, or today if you are so inclined, in exchange for a pretty decent sum of money that would allow me to climb up a couple of steps on the social scale and improve the life of my family. So we moved out of the illegal tin houses where we lived an into " at this point she stopped, ripping the page out of the notebook, crunching it into a tiny ball and dropping it into the purse of the woman who was next to her, because the bus was stopped in the middle of the street by armed thugs. Everyone was screaming as one of them entered the bus, assault riffle in hand, screaming for some foreign god. He scanned the crowd for an appropriate sacrifice and seeing Amanda went to her, grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to the front of the bus while the rest of the terrorists held the remainder of the passengers under their sights. The man holding Amanda took a manifest from his pocket, turned to the crowd and demanded them to film, broadcast it live to the world, and then read the paper out loud. Amanda's mind was racing through the fear of death and acceptance so she didn't even register what it was that the man was saying. It didn't really matter anyway. He probably believed those words as much as Amanda believed in Harry Potter. He was doing this, not for the money, the reason Amanda had accepted to die in this day, but for his virgins or some other silly thing that some priest promised him if he'd just sacrifice his life for "the cause". For a few seconds she tried to make sense of the fact that she'd knew she'd die in that day and that this men here was going to kill her and how those two things connected. It made no sense. Could it be that she would die anyway but not as was intended by the men whom she had signed her contract that long ago? Not that it mattered. And the man had picked her out of all the people in the bus. The little girl standing next to the rear window would have been a more shocking sacrifice. Or the old woman who had sat besides her. Old people and children are always better targets for terrorists, better yet if they are women. In her mind, the fact that the terrorist had picked her was a sign that yes, this was to be her appointed death.
 He was silent now as were the passengers. She wondered what it was that he had said. It wouldn't matter, why would it matter? Taking a deep breath she saw the gun muzzle being pointed to her and decided to go with a smile. So she smiled, wide and winking to the little girl who had her eyes fixed on her, she was shot dead. Instant death, as had been contracted.
 She wasn't there to see the aftermath, the sniper shots that killed the terrorists seconds after, the relief, pain and sadness in the face of the survivors, nothing. She didn't see, in the days after, how her death was used to fuel a new rising hate for immigrants and eventually the rise of a fascist party to power. How it was that her death effectively began the war, the last war.
   Later that day, the old woman found a piece of crumbled paper in her purse and threw it into the garbage, never to be seen again. On the same day, her building was caught in a industrial fire and burned to the ground. If the other copy of her contract still existed, all this years after, it must have been destroyed on that day as well. Two, probably unrelated, murders happened that day as well. A old man that used to work for a campaign management company and the boyfriend of the women killed in the bus by the terrorists, mugged and knifed to death on a main street.

The Witch

 She came into my life just like a typhoon, grabbing me by the hair and throwing it all into the air, spinning and swirling and bumping me into the walls. And then I hit the center and floating among the chaos we were happy. Chairs, cars, houses flew by, a occasional corpse still screaming and flaying. I was too transfixed by her smile in my lips to notice the devastation as I should have. If I had I might have prepared myself for the fall that was about to come.

I shrugged off all the signs, the long black dresses, the long black hair, the black cat, the black cauldron. Sure, she was eccentric but then again, wasn’t I as well? Oh, I’m getting ahead of myself.

It must have been mid-November, I think. I remember waking up in the middle of the night at her place and she wasn’t in bed with me. So I got up and went searching but couldn’t find her and went back to bed, assuming she had gone to the bathroom or something. A bit after I heard the window open, steps, the window closing. I was completely certain that no door opened and when I took a peek I saw a shadow of a woman holding a broom. I dismissed it as a dream and went to sleep. Next morning she was there, next to me, so I asked where had she gone during the night but she shook her head and said something like “only to the bathroom”. I forgot that for a while and only after... There I am, moving ahead before time. December came and with it, the cold finally came too.

It was mid-month and we had agreed to meet at her place, and I had a chance to leave earlier from work so I decided to surprise her by arriving before. As I was getting there I saw someone leave her building, a shadowy figure that was carrying in his hands a potion bottle, like the ones in computer games. I shrugged it off, again, and went inside. As I reached her floor I knocked on the door and she came to the door. Seeing me she smiled half-sideways, and said, “oh, wait just a second, I’m gonna get dressed because I have to go shopping.” and closed the door on me. I heard the sound of something big being dragged, something like pans and pots being hurriedly stuck inside a closet and a bit later she met me outside. I was going to ask something but gave up on it, I’d be going to her place after so I’d see with my own eyes.

I never got to go back to her place. She dumped me on the checkout line, with some lame excuse about “not feeling ready” but I knew right then that something else was wrong. So I started stalking her, just a tiny bit, I mean, I’m not one of those crazy persons. I would just sit nearby and kept looking at her window. Once, midnight and full moon, I was nearly falling asleep there, considering calling it a day, when I saw it : her window opening and a woman-shaped shadow flying away in a broom. 

So yeah, I’m pretty sure she was a witch. That would explain so much.

Telepaths

-”What do you mean ‘it’s obvious’?”

-”I never said that!”

-”No, but you did think it.”

-”How?! Oh, so..”

-”Yes, it is true. So what do you mean?”

-”Well, if they go that way, they’ll meet the enemy faster and.. No, sorry, just read it in my mind and tell me instead...”

-”Actually, since ever. But I only trained it enough to be able of doing this past month.”

-”Oh, that symposium?”

-”Yeah. It wasn’t a symposium on the sexual repression of small mammals. Sorry to have lied to you?”

-”I.. Don’t think that was the worse lie you told me...”

-”WHAT?! No, that much was true, I do love you.”

-”Then.. How, why..”

-”I had to. I only got permission to talk about it with you today because of the attack.”

-”The attack! I was forgetting that.”

-”Don’t worry, I currently coordinating the defenses. We have at least another half an hour until they can get this close.”

-”Oh. Wait, you can send thoughts too?”

-”Only to someone whit the same... Abilities.”

-”There are others. Of course, else you wouldn’t have been trained.”

-”Obviously.”

-”Government?”

-”Not quite. Private company with DARPA funds.”

-”Hum. Should you be telling me all of this?”

-”I have been authorized to do so, yes.”

-”So... Are there other... Abilities?”

-”...”

-”What’s that look?”

-”I got a.. Strange reply. Yes, there are different abilities.”

-”And you are part of a team of misfit teenagers with powers fighting for the sake of mankind?”

-”No. We are not the x-men. Or the avengers or whatever other group you might be thinking off.”

-”Then... What are you a part off?”

-”I told you just now, a non-gov DARPA sponsored program. That is currently in the middle of it’s first ever operation.”

-”And this operation... Who are we being attacked by?”

-”Aliens.”

-”You do know that, even without mind reading, I can very well tell when you are lying right?”

-”I do, sorry. Wanted to lighten up the air since what I am about to say is not a lie and not good either. They have broken through our defenses.”

-”Oh fuck. What do we do?”

-”Grab a gun. Follow my lead.”

-”Ok.”

-”Quick, let’s meet them on hall 5"

-”Let’s go.”

-”WHAT?!”

-”What what?”

-”Just got a stupid order. ‘sec.”

-”Okay.. You look scary doing that face.”

-”Hum.”

-”So?...”

-”FUCK. Let’s go.”

-”Wait, hall 5 is the other way.”

-”I KNOW, LET’S GO.”

-”I follow.”

-”And be quiet now. Don’t think of anything.”

-”How do I do that?”

-”NOT LIKE THAT!”

-”Sorry.. I’ll.. Try?”

-”Never mind. Think of running down to hall 5!”

-”But we aren’t”

-”Just do it!”

-”Ok ok”

-”Better.”

-”So now what?”

-”Turn left he...Oh fuck, run back!”

-”What?”

-”RUN BACK!”

-”Oh come on! What’s going on?”

-”NO! DON’T SHOOT HIM!”

-”AAAAAAAH!”

-”NO! My love, no no no no”

-”I.. Don’t... Think.. I’l..”

-”Shh, don’t speak, let me look at it.”

-”hum. What..”

-”Don’t worry it’s not so bad, you’ll live through this!”

-”You.. Still. Can’t. Lie. To. Me.”

-”I’m sorry... They... There is no enemy.”

-”W..What?”

-”It was a trap to kill you. They can’t allow anyone to know.”

-”Bu...But...”

-”Yes, but they knew I’d tell you. They can see what comes after.”

-”Hun... “

-”There, don’t speak my love. Just... Let me hold you one more time and kiss you one last time.”

-”Bu..”

-”Don’t care about the blood.”

-”Lov... Y..”

-”And I loved you too...”

Short Entry 29: Necromancer

The necromancer smiled as the waves of skeletons and other undead swarmed the castle.
His victory was sure now, nothing could stop his hordes, no matter how strong their heroes or how advanced their technology. The machine gun was a scary instrument of death, spitting lethal projectiles at an astonishing rate and would mow down a army of living human beings in minutes. But his army wasn't alive in the first place. Sure, some of the skeletons and zombies might get destroyed by the projectiles but most wouldn't even flinch after getting hit. And the ghosts were, well, intangible. Bullets will just pass through them. Of course, intangible soldiers might seem like a stupid idea, not being able to use weapons or even punch enemies. But ghosts could do one thing: scare people to death. And that they did.
 The war elephants seemed like a problem at first. Blindfolded tons of fury running into the field and stomping and crushing his hordes. Soon however, the necromancer realized there were only a few of those, and he had sent a few of his most intelligent minions to deal with them. If you knew what you were doing it wasn't hard to stop an elephant: slice his legs until he topples and then, either kill it or leave it there, incapacitated and wreaking havoc.
 ‎Now, the walls of the city were about to fall, most of the machine guns had already been dealt with, by overwhelming superior numbers alone. And each enemy that fell was a new soldier on his army. All was going great and he allowed himself a moment of near relaxation, lowering his guard for a few seconds so he could taste the screams of his victims. Not that he was a particularly sadistic person, but those screams of pain and defeat tasted, on his mouth, like victory. And what he packed in sadism he more than compensated on ambition. He concentrated once more, blocking all sound from outside.
 ‎In those brief seconds one of his companies had been overrun and was now nearly defeated. Zombies required constant guidance else they were too stupid even against the stupidest human alive. He guided the surviving zombies into a tight square, surrounded by enemies on all sides and then, with the humans busy hacking their enemies, he sent another battalion of skeletons to attack then from behind. Skeletons, being animated piles of bones, would never stop to relentlessly follow his orders and his orders were simple: kill, maim, destroy.
 ‎Having taken care of that, he focused his minions on the city walls once again. They wouldn't last much longer, as the ghosts were already inside, driving the men to madness. At least a few dozen had already jumped to their deaths from the city wall and soon one would, in an act of desperation, open the city gates. If not, he'd have to interfeer more directly.
 ‎ Outside the gates, most humans were already dead and the very few that weren't had started to run towards the forest. They wouldn't go far, since skeletons don't let go of their prey unless told to and the necromancer wasn't about to do that, lest some did manage to run and tell the other cities how theirs had fallen.
 ‎He kept his watch on the entire battlefield inside his mind, a feat that would have driven mad most people, seeing from a million eyes at the same time, but for him that wasn't all that hard. And, he chuckled thinking, he was already mad. The c city was surrounded and with no escape possible from it. Soon the gates would open and his undead minions would enter it, ravaging all inside. Once that happened, he'd leave his comfortable throne and enter the city at well. Until then he allowed himself to think back to the day he had first gotten his powers...

 It had been a rainy summer like no other he remembered in his still short life of twenty years, and he had gone out for mead and wenches, as it was the expected from someone at him: a third son of a noble house. He didn't much care for mead and cared nothing for wenches but his father had beaten him into it ever since he had been 14 and that incident with the stable boy had happened. The boy had been imediatly killed, of course, but he had only been beaten to near death and then locked in his room for almost a year.
 When he was allowed back outside, his brother was assigned as his chaperone up until he regained his father's trust. Stubborn as he was, it still took a few years of beatings until he actually began doing something other than talking to the wenches, who would then talk to others and it would reach his father's ears, leading to yey another beating.
 It had been the summer and now fall was arriving. Having just left a woman, some farmer's daughter, in her own bed, he was returning home through the forest when he saw the old temple. He had known about it, everyone knew, but he had never seen it. People used to say the temple wasn't really even there, that it was from a time long gone and only showed up on very rare occasions. Intrigued and not wishing to go home and have to tell his father exactly what had happened, he walked into it, through the giant mouth shaped door. Inside it wasn't as dark as he had expected, despite the darkness outside. His lantern went out but somehow he could still see and so he moved on, walking down a long, straight corridor. After a while he reached a room, oval in shape, with an altar on the center of it, and he finally saw the source of the light that had guided him there, a huge fire that burnt behind the altar. As he approached it faint voices started to ring in his ears, too soft and far away for him to understand them, but with each step they became louder until he realized it was a chant, ominous in sound but made of words he didn't recognize. As he stood by the altar, somehow not quivering with fear, he had glimpses of hundreds of dark robed people standing around the chamber but at soon as he turned his head to them, they vanished. Placing a hand on the altar a voice thundered over the chants: "FINALLY!" it said "I HAVE WAITED MILLENNIA FOR SOMEONE FOOL ENOUGH TO ENTER" and then, for the first time, he was scared but his legs wouldn't obey him so he stood there, as the voice, now less thunderous, began talking anew "You shall inherit my powers and my curse. And I will be free!".
 From the flames, a skeletal shape walked over to him and a hand stretched out to touch him in the shoulder. He felt it imediatly, the power surging through his body, and, with it, pain. Unbearable pain, countless eons of it, running inside his mind, as if he had been burning alive for ages and ages. And then, another pain. The pain of death, of all the deaths that power had caused. When the pain ended, all that was left of the skeletal shape was a small pile of ashes. The fire it self extinguished and the chanting stopped, with what sounded like relief. And then, he fainted.
 When he woke up, he remembered. Not just his life but the life of the Necromancer, a dark wizard from a time far far in the past, before magic had faded from the world, who after nearly conquering the world was stopped at the last minute by a conclave of wizards and kept locked inside the temple, until someone showed up and the Necromancer a could pass his powers and die. And so, he gained powers behind his wildest dreams, the power to raise and control the dead. As he exited the temple he saw that the first was covered in snow, despite it still being early fall as he had stepped inside. Only when he got home did he realized how long it had been: almost three years since he had "disappeared I'm the forest", leaving behind a worried family. In the meanwhile his father had died and his brother inherited the land and the title, becoming lord of the city.
 ‎
 As he was lost in thought, the city gates had fallen and his army of undead marched inside, killing all they found. He rose from his throne and wished himself inside the city, by the castle gates. When the doors opened, to allow the soldiers to run from the ghosts into the sword of the skeletal guard the necromancer had, he waited for the way to be clear and then walked over to his brother who sat, clearly filled with terror, on his throne. Right before the necromancer killed his brother he yelled : "and now you won't ever tell Dad that I like to suck stable boys again!".

Short Entry 28: Telepaths?!

-”What do you mean ‘it’s obvious’?”

-”I never said that!”

-”No, but you did think it.”

-”How?! Oh, so..”

-”Yes, it is true. So what do you mean?”

-”Well, if they go that way, they’ll meet the enemy faster and.. No, sorry, just read it in my mind and tell me instead...”



-”Actually, since ever. But I only trained it enough to be able of doing this past month.”

-”Oh, that symposium?”

-”Yeah. It wasn’t a symposium on the sexual repression of small mammals. Sorry to have lied to you?”


-”I.. Don’t think that was the worse lie you told me...”

-”WHAT?! No, that much was true, I do love you.”

-”Then.. How, why..”

-”I had to. I only got permission to talk about it with you today because of the attack.”


-”The attack! I was forgetting that.”

-”Don’t worry, I currently coordinating the defenses. We have at least another half an hour until they can get this close.”

-”Oh. Wait, you can send thoughts too?”

-”Only to someone whit the same... Abilities.”

-”There are others. Of course, else you wouldn’t have been trained.”

-”Obviously.”

-”Government?”

-”Not quite. Private company with DARPA funds.”

-”Hum. Should you be telling me all of this?”

-”I have been authorized to do so, yes.”

-”So... Are there other... Abilities?”

-”...”

-”What’s that look?”

-”I got a.. Strange reply. Yes, there are different abilities.”

-”And you are part of a team of misfit teenagers with powers fighting for the sake of mankind?”


-”No. We are not the x-men. Or the avengers or whatever other group you might be thinking off.”

-”Then... What are you a part off?”

-”I told you just now, a non-gov DARPA sponsored program. That is currently in the middle of it’s first ever operation.”


-”And this operation... Who are we being attacked by?”

-”Aliens.”

-”You do know that, even without mind reading, I can very well tell when you are lying right?”


-”I do, sorry. Wanted to lighten up the air since what I am about to say is not a lie and not good either. They have broken through our defenses.”

-”Oh fuck. What do we do?”

-”Grab a gun. Follow my lead.”

-”Ok.”

-”Quick, let’s meet them on hall 5"

-”Let’s go.”

-”WHAT?!”

-”What what?”

-”Just got a stupid order. ‘sec.”

-”Okay.. You look scary doing that face.”

-”Hum.”

-”So?...”

-”FUCK. Let’s go.”

-”Wait, hall 5 is the other way.”

-”I KNOW, LET’S GO.”

-”I follow.”

-”And be quiet now. Don’t think of anything.”

-”How do I do that?”

-”NOT LIKE THAT!”

-”Sorry.. I’ll.. Try?”

-”Never mind. Think of running down to hall 5!”

-”But we aren’t”

-”Just do it!”

-”Ok ok”

-”Better.”

-”So now what?”

-”Turn left he...Oh fuck, run back!”

-”What?”

-”RUN BACK!”

-”Oh come on! What’s going on?”

-”NO! DON’T SHOOT HIM!”

-”AAAAAAAH!”

-”NO! My love, no no no no”

-”I.. Don’t... Think.. I’l..”

-”Shh, don’t speak, let me look at it.”

-”hum. What..”

-”Don’t worry it’s not so bad, you’ll live through this!”

-”You.. Still. Can’t. Lie. To. Me.”

-”I’m sorry... They... There is no enemy.”

-”W..What?”

-”It was a trap to kill you. They can’t allow anyone to know.”

-”Bu...But...”

-”Yes, but they knew I’d tell you. They can see what comes after.”

-”Hun... “

-”There, don’t speak my love. Just... Let me hold you one more time and kiss you one last time.”


-”Bu..”

-”Don’t care about the blood.”

-”Lov... Y..”

-”And I loved you too...”

Short entry 27: Darkness clad

Darkness clad he walks in the old city, the metal under his boots clanking on the stoned floor as he approaches the Avenue of The Way. Ancient books describe the Avenue as " a long winded road linking the City with the Palace of the Gods, with statues spread on it representing the twenty two concepts that are God". In this days, as he walks down from the ruins towards the ruins, grass and other invasive weeds spring from between the cobbles and the statues are old and weathered, their inscriptions barely readable. Still, he knew the order by heart, and upon the first statue he said the appropriate words, that I will translate here since our alphabet can't actually reproduce the sounds he used : "On the first step of the journey we are all fools". By recognizing his stupidity and foolishness he is now ready to start learning. 

 Darkness still clad him as he went to the next statue. As dark as it was, enough that a normal person wouldn't be able to see his own feet, he had no lights in him nor did he seem to need them, being as he was part of the night. The second statue was of an old man at a table. "We pick our cross to bear with us till the end". On the old days, there would be a priest near by with items he'd place on the table for pilgrims on the Way to take with them, now the table was empty except for a set of three lone cobbles on it. He picked one at random and moved on. A woman of old stone waits him at the next stop, sitting on a throne : "We all know things we never learned and that we thank to You lady" and after a bow, the darkness that is he walks down again, just a few steps to another stone woman in a throne. But while the previous one was serene and religious this one was regal and fierce. "In your reign, lady, we are given life" were the words he spoke now. Again he bowed, as he will do again five more times : once for each other stone woman on his path to wisdom and the Gods. His stride slows down, as if he is fearful for the next statue. It's a long walk and he's dragging his feet all the way to there. Even the darkness surrounding him seems to fade a bit as he approaches the statue, the biggest so far, a middle-aged man, sitting in a throne, scepter in hand, sword in the lap crown in the head. Instead of bowing he actually kneels this time and speaks with a lowered head "We are nothing before your power and we are here to praise and adore". He somehow manages to get back up while turning around and then passes by the statue without looking straight at it. This particular statue representing the God of Power sees to be harder for him than the rest as he lets out a long breath and resumes his fast pace towards the next one, another man in a throne holding the sacred symbols of god in his hands. "Through you our prayers reach God and for that we thank you". His steps take him quickly and not very reverentially away into the next statue , that are actually two, a girl and a boy, both looking at each other naked bodies with tenderness and warmth. He smiles, for the first time in many months, maybe even years as he intones "We are the fruits of your love and for that we love you". There's no way for me to do justice to the magicality of the sound his evocations had in that long lost and forgotten language, where every one of them is a mirror of it self, sounds that start high pitched, go low, and returns to the high pitch or vice versa. I could try to translate it this, more common, language but it still wouldn't be the same. 

"we are your love's children and as children love you do we" is more akin to the phraseology used in his evocations. But not all translations can be this easily done, nor is it important. In fact, even the words aren't important, only the actual meaning, so he could have used other sentences as long as the meaning "we are the progeny of the love of god and in for that love we thank him" was in there.

 The next statue is a chariot being pulled by a couple of mythological creatures, winged lions that would, to a historian of our days look vaguely babylonian. "With your power we triumph" he says, arms outstretched, his darkness as wings of night in the lightless void that surrounded everything in the Way. The next statue also has the right to a bow, being a woman wrestling a lion: "You are what we have of strength".  Next on the Avenue, instead of a sitting in a pedestal as the others have, the statue of an old man sits inside a cave, a lamp now devoid of light in his hand and a staff of wisdom in the other. Kneeling before the entry, he says the words "We learn of you and all knowledge is ours" and, from his pockets, produces a candle that he places inside the lantern, lit, the first light seen there in ages. As he leaves the cave, the small light from the candle hardly visible just a few steps after, the next sculpture is seen on the distance: a eight-spoked wheel. No statues adorned the wheel, but you could tell that the outer face used to have engravings of people on them. Despite the massive size of it and being made of stone, as he reaches it he spins it: "You spin the wheel and we live your will". He doesn't stay enough time to see where the wheel falls. Both because he is not supposed to, since you only know your fate as it hits you, and because even if he wanted to know where the wheel landed he couldn't as the engravings have long lost meaning.

 Another woman, standing and holding in her left hand a sword and in her right hand scales. "You are justice and by thy laws we abide". He bows and leaves for the next one, a gallows with a victim, but hanged from a single ankle. The statue is a feat of engineering, all that weight being kept in place only by a stone rope. He speaks once more "We are prisoners of your fate and to it we submit". He doesn't delay here, and moves, fast paced but anxious almost as if he, once again feared the next stop, but this time I think all of us would understand his fear : a grim reaper complete with cape, cowl and a scythe. "At your feet we die and change into new" he says. Again, he won't linger next to the statue, moving fast to the next one, a woman mixing the drink from one pot into the drink from another. His words are spoken hastily and even his bow is short and fast "you measure our worth and we accept". He almost runs towards the devilish statue that stands next on his way, his darkness running behind him. Barely stopping he says "you are freedom from temptation and punishment as redemption". Still running, as if afraid he wont have time to reach the other end of the Avenue, he would have missed the next one if he didn't know it by heart. Next to the road, standing tall and half-toppled, a tower. Here he stops as he intones "you are ruin and we are destruction all ends to begin anew". 

 He regains his breath, or looks as if he did, and resumes his fast stride down the cobbled street, towards a naked woman, crouched at a small lake and bows as he says "you are hope for us" and then resumes his fast walking, looking over his shoulder a couple of times. Way above the Avenue of the Way a light, at this distance small and weak, shines and slowly moves down, not even stopping to pay his respects to the statues. The dark one now runs to the next statue, two dogs howling at a moon that appears as if it is flying above them. He won't even stop, just slow down slightly to mutter "In the knowledge of you there are no mysteries" and resume his run. The light one seems to have picked up his pace as well and is already getting past the wheel. The light stops there for a short while, as if reading the fate of the dark one before resuming. Darkness still clads him as he reaches a sculpture of the sun. He stops only time enough to say "yours is the happiness we have" and then moves down to the angel with a trumpet that stands next in his way. The light now seems to be flying towards him, having reached the naked lady in the lake as he says "we are ready for your judgment". He stops, straightens himself and turns around, throwing his cloak of darkness into the floor and showing the beautifully ornate silver and gold armor he wears under it. He unsheathes his sword and screams the words he had just said : "WE ARE READY FOR YOUR JUDGMENT!" 

 The light reaches him, a young man, sword red of blood in hand, with a dress of pure light, and a voice that makes the earth shiver in fear saying : "it is time to abandon darkness and return to light". His voice is compassionate and almost peaceful while at the same time frightening and filled with authority. The one who was clad in darkness smiles again and, with sorrow on his voice says "and I never did reach enlightenment and inner peace" as he attacks the other. His movements are precise and well thought you can tell immediately this is someone who is very well versed in the art of sword fighting but. Even so his movements betray that he has no hope of winning and sure enough, the first time the Light one strikes, the dark one falls dead on the ground, a slight whisper raising from his lips, either a "thank you" or a "curse you", bot words sounding almost the same in that language that angels speak.

Short entry 26: of cauldrons

She came into my life just like a typhoon, grabbing me by the hair and throwing it all into the air, spinning and swirling and bumping me into the walls. And then I hit the center and floating among the chaos we were happy. Chairs, cars, houses flew by, a occasional corpse still screaming and flaying. I was too transfixed by her smile in my lips to notice the devastation as I should have. If I had I might have prepared myself for the fall that was about to come.

I shrugged off all the signs, the long black dresses, the long black hair, the black cat, the black cauldron. Sure, she was eccentric but then again, wasn’t I as well? Oh, I’m getting ahead of myself.

It must have been mid-November, I think. I remember waking up in the middle of the night at her place and she wasn’t in bed with me. So I got up and went searching but couldn’t find her and went back to bed, assuming she had gone to the bathroom or something. A bit after I heard the window open, steps, the window closing. I was completely certain that no door opened and when I took a peek I saw a shadow of a woman holding a broom. I dismissed it as a dream and went to sleep. Next morning she was there, next to me, so I asked where had she gone during the night but she shook her head and said something like “only to the bathroom”. I forgot that for a while and only after... There I am, moving ahead before time. December came and with it, the cold finally came too.

It was mid-month and we had agreed to meet at her place, and I had a chance to leave earlier from work so I decided to surprise her by arriving before. As I was getting there I saw someone leave her building, a shadowy figure that was carrying in his hands a potion bottle, like the ones in computer games. I shrugged it off, again, and went inside. As I reached her floor I knocked on the door and she came to the door. Seeing me she smiled half-sideways, and said, “oh, wait just a second, I’m gonna get dressed because I have to go shopping.” and closed the door on me. I heard the sound of something big being dragged, something like pans and pots being hurriedly stuck inside a closet and a bit later she met me outside. I was going to ask something but gave up on it, I’d be going to her place after so I’d see with my own eyes.

I never got to go back to her place. She dumped me on the checkout line, with some lame excuse about “not feeling ready” but I knew right then that something else was wrong. So I started stalking her, just a tiny bit, I mean, I’m not one of those crazy persons. I would just sit nearby and kept looking at her window. Once, midnight and full moon, I was nearly falling asleep there, considering calling it a day, when I saw it : her window opening and a woman-shaped shadow flying away in a broom. 

So yeah, I’m pretty sure she was a witch. That would explain so much.

The Tribe

 Grunk, son of Grank (and brother of Gronk, but that doesn’t matter) had a look on his face that could only be either jealousy or envy. Still, his words were nothing but courteous as he, according to the Tribe’s traditions, congratulated Drend, son of Drind for his win in this moon’s contest by presenting him his spear : “you stronger than all” he said “i recognize me as inferior”.

Grunk should have won, it was him who saw the mammoth, it was him who directed the mammoth towards the small clearing and him who trapped the mammoth with his trap. However, it was Drend who threw his spear first, after distracting Grunk. And so, the kill belonged to Drend and he made sure that everyone knew only who killed the beast and not who did all the actual hard work. So Grunk’s face is saying the exact opposite of his words, and if someone is noticing, it will be Unda. She knows Grunk better than anyone else in the Tribe, having slept next to him on the Cave many times before (and wishing she could keep doing it many times more). 

As the ceremony reaches it’s end, Unda is starting to feel a little bit of fear. Drend is looking at her, and since he is that moon’s top hunter, he can have his pick of a woman from the tribe. Unda is not even the prettier, Imda is. Nor is she the one with the best baby making body, that honor lies with Rast and her gigantic hips. But Drend looks at her with lust and something more in his eyes. Noticing this, Grunk snarls his teeth and turns his back on the Tribe. Surely enough, Drend goes to Unda and grabs her wrist: “you mine this moon” he says, gleefully and looking over to Grunk who is now leaving into the forest and misses this, as he wished to do.

Unda cannot fight him, he is bigger, stronger and in his right. He also doesn’t wish to waste any time, it seems, as he pulls her into the cave right away. As the moon’s top hunter he can have the inner cave for himself and his consort, and that’s where he takes her. She’s been there before, Grunk has been the top hunter several times before and he almost always picks her, despite her constant failure in making him a son. This time she doesn’t feel the same warmth she normally feels there, instead she feels a chill going down her spine, as of something bad was about to happen. Drend is everything but careful or sweet with her. He undresses her, ruining her favorite skin and throws her into the bed of dead leafs, jumping on top of her and hurting her back. He does his thing fast and violently, without any care for her pleasure or well being and then gets ups and warns her not to leave, he’ll be back.

Meanwhile, Grunk went alone into the jungle with his spear and nothing else. Hunting always calms him down and he doesn’t want to be in the cave, witnessing Drend gloating about a kill that should have been his and sleeping with a woman that is his. So he wanders, aimlessly between the trees until he spots a track : a sabertooth, this close to the Cave. Not common but not the first time it happens either. Smiling with the thrill of the challenge, Grunk gets down to his knees and starts following the trail. Immersed as he was in the tracking he doesn’t even notice he is moving towards the forbidden forest, where the spirits of the gods dwell. He follows the tracks until he reaches a small clearing where the sabertooth tiger is eating a small prey. He rises his spear slowly, points, takes a deep breath and intones a small prayer to the goddess of true aim, throwing his spear to the tiger. He is so sure of his aim, and knowing that he threw the spear with all his might, that he gets up and starts moving even before the spear reaches the sabertooth only to jump back as the spear hits the animal and falls down to the ground, harmlessly.

The tiger turns, slowly, and stands on his rear legs, looking both comical and scary, but not as scary as when it talks : “Brave Grunk” - the sabertooth tiger’s voice is deep as if coming from a cave and it doesn’t move it’s mouth to speak “you have been wronged. I can feel it. If you will it, I can grant you power to right your wrongs.”

Grunk is motionless, fear and reverence binding his feet on the floor. He opens his mouth to speak but closes it immediately after as if unsure. 

“No reply, Grunk, the fearless? The cat ate your tongue?” The tiger laughs, smiling if a cat can smile.

Grunk stood there, still motionless for a while, as the tiger approaches him, walking as a person would, and looks him in the eye. Their faces were nearly touching and the tiger-god roars at Grunk’s face. Grunk blinks but doesn’t run away despite being scared out of his reason.

“Good Grunk, you are indeed fearless. Go now, soon you will return here for my power.”

The tiger-god went back to all fours and resumed eating his prey as Grunk slowly backs away until his back bumps into a tree. Then he turned and ran home. As he was running he noticed the day was long gone and deep night was all around him, as if he had stayed in the clearing for many hours and not the few minutes it had felt like. As he was reaching the Cave, he heard sounds as if a discussion was happening, despite the late hour. He stopped short, still in the covering of the trees and witnessed a gathering of the Tribe at the Cave’s door.

Nerkt, the elder of elders, was chastising Drend, his staff of authority poking the younger man on his chest. Making a effort not to be seen or heard Grunk moved closer to listen to the old man’s words:

“.. your right? Unda was of baby age! She was asset to Tribe and selfish you killed her!” 

The younger man laughed : “She gave no baby to Grunk, she broken!”

Nerkt shook his head while he spoke again : “you lose top hunter of the moon prizes. You sleep in punishment cave tonight.”

Drend began complaining but the rest of the adults grabbed him and dragged him towards the punishment cave, a few mammoth lengths up the mountain, and threw him in there, rolling the stone door to make sure he wouldn’t escape.

Grunk heard all this but his brain refused to process it. Unda could not be dead, the gods would not allow that. He was still there, lying on the tall grass, when Nerkt nearly tripped in him, on his way to alleviate in the forest. 

“Grunk! Gods be praised, I feared we lost two today!” Nerkt said.

If the Tribe had had words for sorrow, Nerkt would have expressed his at the loss Grunk must be feeling. Since it didn’t, Nerkt just explained that Drend had been “too rough” with Unda and she had not survived their “baby-making”. Listening to this told as it was, Grunk lost his mind and screamed, a deep, primal rage-filled scream of pain.

He got up and ran back into the forest, tears flowing down his eyes for the first time since he had become a man, grunting like a wild animal, breaking branches and kicking stones indifferent to the pain. He wasn’t consciously trying to find the sabertooth tiger god clearing, but even so he stumbled into it. Less than an hour had passed since he had left but he felt like a entire lifetime older as he stopped, at the clearing entry. He raised his eyes slowly, knowing even before he saw him that the god awaited for him there. 

“GOD!” Grunk’s voice was both a scream and a growl: ”I WANT YOUR POWER”.

The tiger, that had been lying on the other end of the clearing, slowly got up to all fours and as he moved closer to Grunk got up to his back paws.

“As I foretold, you are back. Fear not, the power is yours.” The tiger placed his front paws on Grunk’s shoulders and licked his face.

Grunk felt a warm feeling on his body, the wounds from his wild run on the forest healing, his tiredness disappearing, and sensed as if he had grown, and in reality, the tiger seemed smaller now.

The sabertooth god walked back and said :”go now, Grunk, the fearless, and avenge.”

Grunk smiled and turning to a tree grabbed it with his hands, ripped it off the ground and crushed it with a hug. Grinning he ran back to the Cave. This time he didn’t even notice how much time had passed until he reached the Cave and saw that the sun had already moved high into the sky. Reaching the Cave he screamed for Drend : “COME DREND, TRAITOR, KILLER OF WOMEN!”

Imda came forth, looked at Grunk and instinctively took a step back. Her voice wavered as she said “Is that you Grunk? Drend is out hunting.”

Grunk growled, and turning to the forest sniffed the air. He found Drend’s smell easily and followed it. Drend was hiding and waiting for a prey, and did not hear Grunk arriving from behind, and as such screamed with fear and surprise as the god-infused man grabbed him by the hair and started dragging him, without a word. As soon as he reached a clearing, he threw the other man against a tree.

“YOU KILL UNDA, YOU DIE!” Grunk screamed.

Drend was still getting to his feet surprised and his legs wet, and tried to say something.

“NO EXCUSES. YOU DIE!”

Drend threw his spear but Grunk easily grabbed it mid air and broke it with only one hand. He started moving, slowly, towards the other one, who was now trembling with fear, unable to move.

“FIGHT ME DREND!”

Drend attempted to throw a punch but his hand hit Grunk’s chest as if it was a caress. Grunk laughed as he grabbed the smaller man by the throat, and kept laughing as he squeezed the life out of Drend. He dropped the body on the floor, Drend deserved no burial and no place on the Cave of the Dead, and moved away, back to the Cave.

Things would change in the Tribe now, Grunk would be elder above the elders and it would be his word that mattered. Since he could never again have Unda, he’d have all the women for himself and the next generation of the Tribe would be as strong as he was. Soon, he thought, they’d go to the other side of the forest and steal the women of the other tribes. Soon the entire valley would belong to him and his sabertooth-tiger-god powers.

Soon, the world would fear and love the name of Grunk, son of Grank, the fearless.