darrionjwrites

He quietly shut Marcey’s door before proceeding downstairs to the kitchen with his laptop.

His woman was tired. She had a long day. Was referring to Marcey as his woman sexist? He thought before quickly digressing the thought.

He opened his word processor…

“Just write whatever,” He urged himself before he started typing. “Something about a guy approaching a bright cavern.”

---

He approached the large, illuminated cavern but paused before crossing into the light.

He wanted to return. To reverse through the darkness and hopefully to his dog and his cool apartment. And his rare 32 bit game system where he started, but never finished, several classic role playing games.

The light was warm. Inviting. Intoxicating. He felt himself being drawn into it.

“You seem troubled,” His guide’s voice said.

“I change my mind,” He said.

His winged Guide revealed itself in the darkness. A silhouette with wings with only his bright, blue green piercing the darkness.

Guide only revealed himself to nag or chastise.

“Nothing back there for you,” His Guide said.

He reached his hand into the light.

His hand disappeared before the light quickly spread up his arm and to his face. He could feel himself disappearing. Assimilating into the light.

He used all his strength he could must to free his arm from the light.

He managed to free himself, but it felt as if a piece of remained within the white void.

“What happens in the white place?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” His guide replied. “Guides aren’t allowed to cross.”

“Why don’t you know?” I asked.

No answer from the guide. Even after several seconds of silence no answer.

He was disappointed. And annoyed.

“We’ve been traveling for centuries,” He said.

“Minutes,” Guide answered.

“What?” He asked, flabbergasted by Guide’s reply.

“You’ve only been here minutes,” Guide said.

“Impossible,” He said. “What about… the…”

He lost his train of thought. He knew he had something important to say. Something important to remember about where they were and how far they travelled.

He took a step back from the light.

“No,” He said as he staggered away from the light. “Can’t.”

“The longer you wait, the more you’ll fade,” Guide said. “You’ll cease to exist.”

“I’ll take my chances,” He said.

“You won’t make it in time,” Guide warned. “You wo-”

Guide’s voice vanished. And so did its winged silhouette and glowing green eyes. And so did the illuminated cavern.

Everything vanished. Everything including a piece of himself that was taken by the white void. He could see that he was still whole but didn’t at all feel like he was.

And he was alone, once again, in the dark cavern.

Those video games better be worth it, he thought. He wasn’t ready to travel back since he felt his existence starting to fade, but what other choice did he have. The guide got him there, and he wasn’t confident he had the strength of aptitude to find a way back to his dog, cool apartment, and video games. And Chinese food. He’d miss Chinese too much.

“I’m sorry,” He called out to the guide and he started to head back in the direction from whence he came.

 

 

 

He had no idea where the story was going. Or what it was going to be about. Or whether it was going to be good. Or readable. But he was going to write it before he reached work.  He needed to write it. 

He entered crowded train. Took first available seat. Drew his notebook.

No pre-planned characters or plots. No direction in mind. He was just gonna make up shit as he went along. Should be interesting, he thought. 

He penned his first words.

Train pulled into station. Dozens squeezed themselves into packed train. A dozen stops until work.

He looked forward to reading whatever literary chaos ended up on his notepad.

Five hundred words or less, he thought. Here we go….

---

She mashed her heel into its chest. Used the leverage to remove her devine spear from the Demon’s belly.

She could hear the Scale Lord’s breaths. Shallow but still in existence. Gargantuan body rising and falling beneath her heel. Long, shattered wings flapping wildly as if trying to escape the demon’s expiring body.

She exhaled.

Cold smoky breath.

Her childhood spent preparing to avert the prophecy. One more strike to the heart and she will defeat fate. She can return home to her love. One more strike and she’s free of her cosmic shackles.

“Prophecy’s false,” She said. “I’m alive.”

The Scale Lord cackled. Coughed. Spat a purple oily substance at her feet.

“The battle’s won,” The Scale Lord replied. “Long ago.. its won.”

She drew her sickle. Beheaded Scale Lord before it could further speak.

She staggered off the Scale Lord’s corpse. Collapsed to her knees.

“Thank you, Ele’ees,” She said, praising her goddess.

The Scale Lord’s body quickly deteriorated to dust.

Its done.

Daylight through the window. Warmth of the sunrise through the prison bars and cracks in the stone walls. Birds chirping.

Ele’ees gave her strength. Weapons. The will to defeat the prophecy. Proof that divine power existed. That the universe was fair. That mortals like her can shed their cosmic shackles. Live the way they choose. She would spend the rest of her days praising her Goddess. Spreading her gospel. Loving Alex.

She walked to the shattered stain-glass window.

She  bathed in spreading sunlight. Inhaled the smell of grass. Goosebumps from the clean air breeze on her skin.

I’m going home, she thought. There was plenty of sunlight and grass home.  I’m going home to see him, she thought. To murder him… and everyone in my vil-… 

She felt rage. Felt joy. Felt bloodlust.

None were her thoughts. Her feelings.

“Isn’t me,” She tried to convince herself.

“But it is,” Scale Lord replied.

Power… she thought. Tried to chase the evil thoughts away but couldn’t. Felt like her own mind being silenced. Crushed. Replaced by another voice. Kill them all, she thought. Fuck the gods…

Skin tingling.

She rolled up her sleeve.

“I told you,” The Scale Lord said. “The battle was already won.”

She drew her spear. Twirled around the room looking for the owner of the voice.

She checked her arm.

Black scales. Up her arms and across her collar bone. She felt organs shifting. Expanding. Transforming.

“No… Alex,” She cried.

She cried so hard she was blind.

“Alex… I failed” She said as she released her spear. “I’m sor-”

She jerked forward. Landed on all fours.

They tore through her flesh. Her shoulder blades. Large black wings.

Such pain.

She cried. Tears of pain. Tears of sadness. Tears of laughter.

No escaping fate, she thought. Prophecy prevailed as it should. She embraced what she’s meant to become… The Queen of Scale. World devourer. Her true self.

“Alex… I’m coming home,” She said with a smirk.

---

Odd story, he thought.

He reached his stop.

He wondered why all of his endings were tragic and hopeless. Was that him? Was that a reflection of his soul? Was he the Scale Lord of his own lore? Or was he just a strange, odd, awkward son of a bitch?

He put his notebook away and exited the train car.

Probably the latter, he concluded. Strange, odd, awkward… Maybe a little broody.

 

 

 

 

He poured himself a cup of coffee. Took a seat at the table opposite Marcey.

“Talked to my cousin the other day,” He said as he sipped his coffee. “Insightful conversation.”

“What you talk about?” Marcey asked.

“Well… insightful shit of course,” He replied.

---

The other day…. 

“Got that new Creature Hunters game,” He said.

“Squad based game where you capture and kill monsters?” I asked. 

“No capture,” He replied. “Just kill” 

“Oh…dude,” I said. “That’s some savage shit.”

“Huh?” He asked.

“Imagine you having date night with ya girl. Eating a dinner box and watching a flick. Just chillin,” I said. “Suddenly a squad rolls up. Shoots you in the face with a freaking crossbow. Then deep fries ya lady with a flamethrower.”

“What?” He replied.  

“Creature hunters… from the perspective of the creature,” I said.

“Oh… shit,” He said. “I see.” 

“Catch’a’mons worse!” I said.

“How worse?” He asked.

“Imagine… You playing an intense game of handball with the homeys,” I said. 

“I like handball,” He said.

“Me too!” I said. “You on the court racking up aces. Setting records. Speed and accuracy is at a whole ‘nother level.”

“Okay…” He said.

“You at point game. Some dude rolls up and zaps you with something.” I said, looking over my shoulder to make sure nobody was watching me. “You open your eyes. You’re in a white void. Alone and no place to go.”

“Trapped?” He asked.

“Inside a cage no bigger than a bocce ball,” I replied. 

“Damn,” He said. “Crazy ass pocket dimensions.”

“Word,” I said. “That’s not even the worst part.”

“No?” He asked.

“Nope,” I replied. “Crazy part’s when they let you out.”

“That’s crazy?” He said.   

“Crazy like cat shit,” I said. “You come out looking around confused as hell. Realize quickly you’re a ways from home.”

“On some transantlatic slave trade shit,” He said. 

“Indeed. And they only let you out to fight other abductees,” I said. “Your opponents leave their catch’em balls looking lost like you. But you have to fight. Its fight or return to the void.”

“Tragic,” He said.  

“Word… Then they force y’all to scrap til someone’s unconscious… And win, lose, or draw,” I leaned in to whisper. “Yo ass end up right back in that pocket dimension.”

“Bruh,” He said.  

“I know,” I said. “I’m buggin.”

“Nah you good,” He said. “Shit’s kinda funny.”

“Nothing funny about kidnapping, slavery and exploitation, bruh,” I said. ”Nothing funny at all.” 

He sighed.

---

He stirred his coffee while returning Marcey’s befuddled stare.

“What?” He asked.

“Ummm…” Marcey replied. “Where and when did this conversation take place?”

“Yesterday,” He replied. “Earth… Not sure which earth or which version of me. But the conversation took place yesterday.”

“I see,” Marcey said.

He wasn’t special. Never was. Likely never will be special. If he had known he was an infinitesimal, insignificant speck in the universe he would have worked harder in High School. Taken more risks. Focused more on refining a skill rather than relying on a superpower he never really had.

He pinched himself.

Had to stay awake. Had to finish another chapter. He wasn’t special. He didn’t have the ability to warp reality or bend it to his will. Didn’t have telepathic or mind possession powers to make someone else finish his work for him.

“One more chapter,” He willed himself.

He saw a gift in realizing he wasn’t special. That the world nor people on his social media friends list weren’t looking for him. Weren’t waiting for him. That people weren’t aware he existed.

He went upstairs looking for Marcey.

Marcey was in her room. In her bed. Taking a practice exam.

“Hey,” He said to Marcey. “About to sleep?”

“Yeah,” She replied. “A little tired.”

Marcey’s big test was tomorrow. He understood if she chose to sleep an hour earlier than she said she would. He was -selfishly- disappointed. But he understood. Sleeping was the responsible thing to do the night before an important exam. Not drinking wine and watching superhero shows.

“Alright, cool,” He said. “Sleep well.”

“Have any tape?” Marcey asked.

“Sadly… no,” He replied.

“There’s a draft coming from the window,” Marcey said.

“I feel it,” He replied.

Marcey sighed. Looked disappointed.

“I’ll check my room,” He said, though certain he didn’t own any tape.

“Thanks,” Marcey said. “Well, good night.”

“Night,” He said before leaving Marcey’s room.

He wasn’t special. If he was, he’d have the superpower to regulate the weather and temperature in her room. Or… At least own a roll of tape.