Narzack

            The next few weeks passed without incident.  There were desperate parents to reassure and a few others who worried about the two, but that, too, passed.

            The days passed. 

            Kellin, too, left behind the terror and foreboding of that night.  He clung to the joy of her company, their sweet moments spent together in the bliss of remembrance.  Life moved on, as it always does.

            Not everyone, or everything forgot.  A veiled menace, eternally thirsting for blood, forever hating; an engine of desecration prowled on the edge of nightmares.  Only one other remembered that night.  For her, the nights were darker, longer.  And the dawn was grey.

Narzack

“Ailish, do you ever wonder if numbers are alive?  Like, somewhere out there is a sentient four?”

            “Kellin, where do you come up with these ideas?  What does that even mean?”

            “Well, you know.  Like, maybe someday, you’ll be walking down the road, and you’ll see an eight, just walking.  He’ll look at you and say, ‘Howdy, m’am.’” Kellin said.  He looked at his friend, who was dangling her feet in the water, gently kicking them back and forth. 

            She stared into the water, seeking an answer to a question she didn’t know how to ask.  A bird called overhead.  Sunlight glinted off the water.

            Kellin looked away, unsure of the turmoil in Ailish’s head.  He cast his line into the water, tracing with his eyes the path from his fishing rod to the bobber.  He was quiet, thinking, watching the fish dart under the tiny waves.

            “I can’t sleep anymore.” Ailish said, finally, quietly.  Her dainty toes swirled around, causing tiny eddies.

            Kellin kept his eyes on the bobber.  He’d never heard that tone from her before.  It bespoke of ageless terror, a fear that would not subside in the light. 

            “Do you remember that night?  When I looked into the well?” She asked, looking at him.

            He swallowed.  Nodded.  He felt a tug on his line.  He gave it a half-hearted pull, and then gave up.  Dropped it. 

            “It doesn’t matter, Ailish!  It doesn’t!  That was just a stupid dream.”  He exclaimed, advancing on her, fear driving him.

            She shook her head slowly, sadly.  Still sitting, she looked up to him.  “No, Kellin.  It was real.  And I’m scared.  I’m so scared.  I’ve never been this afraid in my life.   Not even when Momma was so sick.”

            Kellin felt his anger and frustration drain from him.  In its place, a fierce desire to protect.  Once again, he gathered her up in his arms, pulling her close.  She was trembling.  He clutched her tight, clinging to his dearest friend.

It was then that the world ended.

            “You’ll never save her, Kardiphos.  This one will die.  The light of Shea will die.  And you will watch them breathe their last.” 

            It was a voice from hell.  The wails of mothers, the desperate cries of children, the broken sobs of fathers all rose within the voice.  It was the growl of a starving wolf, the hiss of a venomous viper.  It was evil.  It was malice given voice.

            Within his embrace, Kellin felt Ailish stiffen.  Her breathe quickened; short, fast intakes.  He stroked her back, whispering.  “Shhh, close your eyes, Ailish.  Close your eyes.  Nothing can hurt you when I’m around.”

            A lie.

            Kellin turned, facing the hell-voice.  A monstrous wolf crouched, not four feet from him.  It was black, its eyes aglow with hatred.  Its hackles stood on end, fangs glistening with malevolence.  It was massive, easily four times the size of any wolf Kellin had ever seen.  The beast hissed, a terrifying sound.

            The hound of nightmares glared at him, hateful, scorching yellow vapour spewing from its nostrils.  It spoke again.

            “The girl is mine, Kardiphos.  The world will fall and break and you will wander alone forever.”

            Kellin heard Ailish gasp his name and begin to weep.

            “No.” He said.  His heart was thundering, his blood boiling.  He was scared now.  More terrified than he’d ever been in his life.  His body shook violently.  He knew the beast was not merely a wolf.  It was an embodiment of hatred and malice. A creature with no name, not true from.  And it had come for Ailish.

            “No!”  He screamed at it.  He balled his fists, enraged.  His fury burned away his fear, and he knew only rage.  Rage that this demon would threaten all that was pure in his world.  “NO!  YOU’LL NEVER TOUCH HER!”

            The wolf raised its snout to the heavens and howled, cursing them, perhaps.  

            It charged. 

            Kellin roared his defiance and hurled himself forward.

            The beast slammed into him, jaws snapping and gnashing.  He wrapped his arms around its massive body, fur like needles stabbing into his flesh.  He screamed as the beast bore him to the ground.  Vaguely, he heard Ailish scream.  The hellborn jaws snapped at his neck, and he wrenched his head away, feeling the fangs rake hisneck.  Claws dug into his chest, white hot pain lancing into him.  He punched it once, twice, three, seven times, howling in pain and anger.  Boiling saliva dripped onto his face, and the beast wrenched itself from his grip.

            His chest bleeding fire, Kellin pushed himself to his feet, ready to meet the wolf again.  Its demonic eyes glared eternal hatred at him and it leaped at him.  He felt a titanic paw slam into his face, murderous talons raking across his face.  His vision exploded in white light as lances of pain stabbed into his skull.  He heard Ailish scream again and the monster slammed its colossal head into his chest.  He heard, felt something crack in his chest and he flew backwards.  He slammed into a tree and slumped down, unable to breathe.  He tried to push himself to his feet.   Felt the bones in his legs snap.  He fell.

            He heard Ailish scream, call his name.  Blood streamed into his eyes, blinding him.  He crawled toward the sound of her voice.  He howled.

            “COME TO ME, BEAST!  FIGHT ME!  FIGHT ME!  FIGHT! ME!”

            “Kellin!  Kellin, please help me!”  Ailish’s voice was desperate, and he knew he would never make it to her in time.  “KELLIN! KELLIN!” 

            The wolf roared. 

            Ailish screamed.

            The world ended.

Narzack

http://www.theonion.com/content/video/hot_new_video_game_consists?utm_source=a-section

Narzack

            Maris watched Kellin with concern.  Even while sleeping, he was tormented.  The way he ground his teeth, the fierceness with which he clenched his fists told her that he was reliving that horrible, sunny day. 

            It truly had been a beautiful day.  Not a cloud in the sky.  Birdsong had filled the air.  It had been Kellin’s anguished howls that brought a few of the townsfolk, including Maris and Ailish’s mother, to the bloody scene.

            It was a vision out of some Bosch nightmare.  Blood, too much blood, was strewn, splashed all of the area.  On the ground, in the trees, on the trunks, even in the water.

            Kellin was sitting with his back against a tree trunk, cradling Ailish’s broken, hollow body.  Her pale, so pale skin was blasphemously painted with blood.  Her hair was matted against her lovely, lovely forehead.  Kellin, too, was bloodied and torn.  His legs were busted, tilted at unnatural angles.  Vicious, wicked gouges on his head poured bright blood into his eyes.  Hunks of his chest hung loose and flapping, and he was soaked in his and Ailish’s blood.

            He was rocking back and forth, moaning and kissing Ailish with bloody, battered lips.

            Ailish’s mother came undone.  Howling, crying, screaming, she rushed forward, taking Ailish’s frail, too small body from Kellin.

            He pushed himself to his feet, roaring in sudden rage.  He took one violent step forward, arms out and clutching for Ailish.  There was a sickening crack, and the sound of bone grinding on bone.  His legs bent the wrong way and he dropped to the ground. 

            “Ailish!  No!  Where are you!?  Beast!  Demon!  KILLER!”  He screamed, crawling forward.  And then, the wails of Ailish’s mother reached him.  And he seemed to break down again.  He buried his face in his hands, weeping broken, wrenching sobs, mixing with the desperate cries of a mother holding her dead child.  Amidst his tears, Maris heard Kellin calling for her, calling for Mother.

            She rushed forward, gathering him up in her arms, her son, her dear son.

            The day stayed wretchedly beautiful.

            When Kellin was able to speak, he told of a demon, a creature of nightmares, an unholy wolf.  It had slashed her throat, and left her to bleed to death.  He’d crawled his way to her and held her as her life fled.  He’d said her last words were that she wasn’t scared anymore and to find the Light of Shea.  And she died.

            After the funeral, and as the months passed, Kellin spoke less and less.  Ailish’s mother, too, died; she of a broken heart, it was said.  His legs healed and were strong again.  His body rebuilt itself, leaving only scars.  But his soul was damaged.

            Maris saw it.  She knew that no matter how he loved her, or she him, she couldn’t mend Kellin.  Not yet, not this wound.  He would need her later, much later.  To face a different test.  But not this one.  She knew who and what would make him whole again.  And she wept.  Because when he found it, he would be beyond her reach. Far, far, away.

            As she watched her son, she could think only of her little boy, her little boy, so happy, so alive.  Ignorant to the trials, the pains he would endure.  Happy.

            His eyes opened.

            “Mother?”

            “Yes, Kellin?” She whispered, stroking his damp forehead.

            “I see her every night.  She tells me the same thing.”

            “What does she tell you?” Maris asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

            “She tells me to find the Light of Shea.  The Hope of Tomorrow.  She says I need to look for the Birth of Living Joy.  And something about love.  I don’t understand any of it, mother.  I just want to lie down and never get up.”       

            “I know, son.  I know it’s hard.  It feels like your heart has been torn out of your chest.  And it must hurt worse to feel like no one believes you.”

            “No one does believe me, mother!  I know Mr. Ketchum thinks I killed Ailish.  And no on can find any trace of the wolf.  No one believes me.  Do you even believe me?”
            “I know you would never hurt Ailish.  Her mother knew that, too.  I don’t know what to believe beyond that, Kellin.”

            Lies.  She knew that everything Kellin claimed was true.  She knew the beast that took Ailish.  Just as she knew Kellin would face it again.

            “Kellin, you have to endure.  Ailish wouldn’t want you to curl up and die.  You know that.  I don’t know every force at work in this world, but maybe you –should- try to find this Light of Shea.”

            “Yeah, maybe,” Kellin said softly.

The next day, a raging mob came to the house, thirsty for Kellin’s blood.

Narzack

On my birthday, Aaron and I went to look at a car.  He pronounced it in good condition, and well worth the 1k he was asking.  I told him I would take it.  Got the VIN.  Shook on it.  Went home.  He had said he needed to line up a truck.  So, after he got his vehicle, I'd hand over the money for the car.

I sent him an email yesterday asking about the truck.  He got back to me.   Told me that someone else offered 1250 without looking at the vehicle.  Wanted me to pay 1300.  I talked to Aaron, he said it wasn't worth that much.  I told the dude that he sucks.

Moral of the story:

When dealing with individuals, get stuff in writing.

I feel like a bloody idiot for getting excited that I was finally going to have a car again.

What a douche.

Narzack

I really like Home Improvement, but Mark-the youngest- turned into a huge tool.