How I died.

The rain was coming down in torrents as I darted past the brightly lit neon signs and ducked into the alleyway. I was scared, terrified. I was being hunted. I didn't know why, only that I was going to be killed. Ahead of me were these large treatment pipes crisscrossing in an intricate pattern leading upwards towards a nearby rooftop. I climbed as quickly as I could up one pipe and shimmied onto another before he landed directly in front of me. At least I think it was a he, considering that they were wearing a weird kabuki mask and intricate kimono it was hard to discern gender.  I squared my shoulder and opened my mouth to yell something defiant. An it hit me, no matter what I did or what I said this person was going to kill me. I was going to die. That thought struck me like a thunder bolt. I raised my arms and then with a weary sigh and tears beginning to blur my vision asked quietly. "Will it hurt?" The figure paused and then slowly as if acknowledging my fear and my pain, but unable not to complete the task before them nodded. I wept openly afraid as they stepped towards me a silver glint catching my eye as they withdrew a twisted nail from their sleeve. With drew motions they twirled the object from one hand to the other, snapping their fingers to cause my gaze to slide to the right, as a spear of light drove forward heralding darkness evermore.

Grateful challenge

I was recently selected by a good friend to do the Facebook grateful challenge. Upon consideration I had to withdraw from the challenge simply due to the fact that I'm grateful to myself for having the strength to do what I need or feel like each day and my friends that have enabled me to participate in amazing sports or adventures. However, in no way am I grateful to a divine being. Why? Simple, there exists no such thing as a God. all gods are and have always been a product of mankind. Whether to enslave or subjugate "gods" are merely man made constructs to control the masses. So how and why exactly should I feel grateful for that?

History is ripe with information on how we evolved and came to be. None of this is supported in any Biblical text to date. In fact HUGE portions of events which are key to religion are as we've discovered complete fables. Such as the Garden of Eden, Moses, the Jewish living as slaves  in Egypt all of it is a myth centered around how we understood and labeled things in the old world.  

That being said I concede that being grateful for the friends and joys I have is in itself a good thing. So I suppose on one hand I did complete the challenge if in an unusual way.

Life and it's lessons

I can easily recall so many moments of my life where I wish I had listened to others advice when they initially offered it to me. However, like most young, rash and arrogant individuals I seldom did. Only after the fact when the realization of what could have been or I could have done had passed me by did I stop and realize how much I'd missed out on by not acknowledging the advice of others when it was constructive and worthwhile.

The advice or lessons could be about anything. Whether it was due to a relationship that others had viewed as flawed but in my desire and hopes couldn't see at the time, or simple advice on how to manage things better.

The age old phrase "could've would've, should've" is often quite appropriate. Lamenting over time I'd wasted and relationship that had torn my soul an what remained of my hope and love for people to absolute shreds do I only now begin to realize, I am grateful.  Were it not for those people or those situations, I would not have matured to become who I am today or see the world as I needed to see it.

I now carefully and with great caution select my friends, and those allow into my life. The instant someone tries to change me in accordance with how they feel I should be, I drop that relationship as abruptly as a diabetic drops sugar.  

Learning from my mistakes and situations have as I stated enabled me to grow as an individual. Who's to say that without these trials and learning experiences (mostly of being "friend-zoned" by girls or being taken advantage of in general.) I would even be remotely as level headed and friendly as I am today.

I'll continue this later.

A Vampire in Innsmouth

This is my take on a World of Darkness and Cthulhu style crossover. All respected copyrights are given to the creators and this solely written for entertainment and not for profit of any kind. 

Prologue:

With a blinding flash and a sharp crack that heralded the roar of the thunderous clouds above; the rain began to fall in sheets down on the streets below. The small quaint looking house sat apart from all those on the block. It's paint showing the years of neglect in large flaky patches. The awning overlooking the porch hung low with holes lining its once pristine surface. Due to the heavy rainfall, the streets were empty and silent in the late hours of the night.The interior of the house was as pitch as the night outside seeming to be unoccupied.

With a startling intensity a loud shrill old fashioned phone began to ring from within the darkened interior. The phone was answered on the third trill of the headset.
"Yes?" The voice that answered sounding deep yet smooth and with a seemingly relaxed tone.
"Um, sir, I, that is we've found it sir." A panicked squeaky timid voice answered on the other end.

A smile crossed the features of the man who had answered and in the darkness of the office his eyes seemed to glow a dark red and he received further information, seeming to memorize everything with apparent ease. Without delay he hung up the phone, grabbed a jacket off a nearby coat rack and exited the house heading out into the storm raging night.

I was going to make this the end of the prologue. Any ideas or suggestions whether or not I should include more are most welcome.

Chapter 1: For a Friend

St Louis, March 12, 1936
 

Recognizing those we cherish and value

I recently wrote a letter to a dear friend whom I have known my entire life. Though not bound by blood ties, he is without a doubt a brother to me. Through his support and unwavering help I have gotten to experience things that would otherwise have been impossible for me. It made me think upon and reflect how we usually only acknowledge or recognize someone's value after they've passed on. Kind of strange don't you think? That we wait until someone has passed to say how wonderful, helpful, or joyful they were in our lives. I want you my reader to take a second and step back and think who do you truly feel grateful to in your life right now? How often do you express or think of that person? Have you ever actually written to them or told how grateful you were? Studies show that the more gratitude we show others, the greater our overall happiness.

I can only reflect on those people that have passed whom I failed to acknowledge or at least thank appropriately for the lessons they taught me. Clearly one could consider my dad such an example. My memories of my childhood are fragmented. I remember good times, and horrible times. Being around a drunken abusive violent father figure tends to force one to grow sooner than others. However, in spite of my dads addictions and at times violence, I learned much from him, and owe who I am to the lessons he's taught me.

It's only years after he's passed that I understand just how much I failed to thank him for. Despite the hardships and abuse, I am who I am because of the trials and struggles I endured. I actually considered once if I could have been born on my due date (August 21) and had no disability whatsoever, would I still be me? It raises the questions, of how do you define identity? Despite my disability and despite the turmoil of my upbringing are these things that define who I am as an individual or they just abstract parts of my identity?

If I was given the choice to be free of my disability for one day, would I accept it and how would that change me. This is unique in itself. I am defined by the actions and struggles I've taken over my life. Both the good and the bad, the heartbreaking, and the heart warming aspects that make me who I am are unique in that no matter my physicality or situation they can never be replicated. No two people or experiences are exactly alike. 

I  only hope that as the years progress I continue to find some measure of self-worth and strength from within. Though I may not compare to my friends in the areas of physicality or even relationships, I still am who I am and only can offer what I have. Here's hoping I get to shine through the duration of my time.

What is talent?

Throughout our lives we meet a vast amount of people. Each of these people have their own unique talents.  In most instances rarely, if ever, do we get to see or know how that person is talented, and often ask ourselves how am I talented? What is unique about me that I can do well? What is it that helps people think of or remember me?

I know many talented people from gymnasts to artists. Yet not once have I ever attained an awareness of having my own talents. I struggled for years to gain the ability to walk, to function and thrive as I do. While in it's own way it is impressive, it certainly isn't a unique and gifted talent. One must consider that our talents can show how we are special from others. Most people look at me and because I am disabled automatically see me a special though often not in a kind or positive light.

I am in awe of people who have such gifts as singing and writing that literally can reach out and touch people and in even the smallest way brighten another life. What makes us unique as person is defined by what abilities and interactions that we have and leave behind. On some level I have a unique compulsion to talk and interact with others. This interactions has introduced me to people of wealth, influence and fame.

I started this blog at the encouragement of my friend Jay Finn who himself is a writer.  Through Jay's advice and encouragement I've begun to try and find my own talents in writing.  As he said to me, it's simply about writing every day, one line at a time. It's interesting to note that despite our income or where we are from or what we do, that most often, we forget the simple fact that we are all human beings.

Though I struggle daily with self-doubt and the occasional thoughts that I have amounted to and will achieve nothing in my life. I'm fortunate to have stumbled across such individuals as Jay Finn, and the Youtube star Tiffany Alvord, whom I follow on Twitter and Facebook, and who often posts very uplifting and encouraging quotes. Several times I have found myself smiling upon reading her encouraging words for that day or time. Thus I had entered a day in that much brighter of a frame of mind. It also made me realize that in our darkest times we sometimes need a boost to see the light that this world offers us.

I'm glad I've found such individuals with such unique perspectives and talents that can offer me such helpful guidance, even if it's just in their nature to be positive. Through these individuals I have begun to find my own inner strength and balance to strive for what I could become proficient and capable of doing in my own life. Only time will tell what impact I will have on those that know me. Here's to hoping it's as grand as I wish it to be. :)

A dream of just how powerful evil can become....

With heavy ragged breaths Heath lumbered over the skeletons lining the marbled hallway of the tower. Blood ran in rivulets down his scarred and jagged face. One eye closed tightly shut as blood freely flowed from underneath the lid. His remaining eye stared with a fierce determination at the nearing archway.

It had been decades for him to find the murderous bastard that his slain his men so coldly and dispassionately. The warlock had torn through his band of mercenaries in the dead night, harvesting their organs and blood for his foul magics. Leaving Heath alive as though tormenting him through the loss kindled some perverse desire to have him wallow in his agony, the warlock had vanished just as quickly as he had arrived. It had taken years to learn his name Salthas the Dreaded. Legends of the man if indeed he was one spawned centuries. Though powerful magic fueled his unnatural life Heath was certain his blessed blade Shadowsbane could end his twisted, demonic life.

With one agonizing step after another Heath drew closer to the archway of the spiraled staircase which lead towards the towers study here his foe waited. Finally as he approached the archway the shadows seemed to condense and take shape. Morphing together several feet before him in a giant mass the shadows coalesced into the tall yet thin and seemingly frail form of Salthas.

“You should not have come warrior, you'll only end up becoming mine as your friends have before you.” His voice was a low death-like rasp and beneath the shrouded black cowl of his robe his eyes gleamed a fierce orange reminding Heath of a raging inferno. Heath lunged forward drawing the claymore in one massive hand as he swung with all his strength, intending to complete the forward lunge and bisect his opponent before he could utter the words to a spell.

With barely a motion Salthas held out his hand palm up and a tiny egg sized ball of flame materialized an inch above the upturned palm. Waves of heat and dry air blasted Heath back one step. Horror dawned on Heath's face as he realized his blow wouldn't connect solidly, his sword blade flailing inches before his foe's grinning death-like face.

With a victorious cackle and this eyes flashing with delight Salthas poured a fraction of his power through the ball of flame in his palm. Heath screamed one final time in failure and in dismay as the radiating, rippling, skin searing heating washed over him. Forgive me my friends, I tried. I shall see you soon. Were his final thoughts as flames overtook his form and encompassed the entirety of the hallway spilling forth to consume the entirety of the tower in a torrent of flames that could be witness in the night sky for miles.