Fear

She was a sketchbook drawing on a blank white canvas--her lines and curves were unstable and moved and jerked in a chaotic dance that would nearly tear her apart at every second that passed. Smoke billowed up from the cigarette in her hand and stabbed and swirled its way inter her form. She and the smoke became a jumble of flat lines on the empty space around her.

She tensed up--an overwhelming feeling of being watched struck her. She whilred around and yelled.

"I know who you are!"

She could see it, the black canvas that outstretched and enveloped everything it touched, yet somehow remained on the edge of her vision. It was a nasty shadow reaching out to take her, to kill her, to end her.

"You're only fear!"

She yelled again to the empty room around her. Her words were silent letters that floated up from her mouth and dissolved against the canvas into nothing.

"Get away!"

She could feel it. It was inside her, burning her. It was the cold in her eyes. It was a heavy cloak that bore her down to her knees only to have her stand back up against the pressure.

"Get away!"

It advanced and yielded and retreated and advanced again while she turned and looked for it, always at the edge of her vision. She held her arms out and the smoke from her cigarette left her body to form a pillar at the edge of her reach.

"Get out here, Fear!"

She stood defiantly, and challenged the thing she hated most of all.

"I can run; I can hide; you will follow me."

Her form trembled and her lines grew thicker and darker. She yelled out in pain and gritted her teeth until they cracked.

"I bet..."

She yelled and took one final drag of her smoke, then threw it to the ground.

"...I can put you out..."

Her muscles tensed. The smoke rose up and twisted her form with tiny slivers of lines that crawled in through her feet and out through her head, then disappeared against the blank white canvas.

"...like a cigarette!"

Her foot came down on the smoldering remains of her cigarette.

Our Dance

In this room there's you and me. The black walls melt around us and the ceiling drips, smearing your lipstick running down your chin like cold blood running through veins on the pale moon—your eyes the burning stars that blind the world and tear my limbs apart, leaving me helpless calling your name.

We dance a lover's dance in silence with snake-like rhythm against a voodoo beat, the rhythm of our hearts. Drawn and crying, you sketch your hate on my lips as you bite them, a desperate attempt to steal my heart. And now, I can't feel you, just the taste of your lips and blood linger.

But, when we danced, I echo your words with mindless absence and float to your voice But, when we danced, I felt your tears fall on my cheeks and I smiled and I told you 'This will never end.' Where'd you go?

Our fingers wrap together and your cold, rosy fingers dig into my hands and tear away. And again, I smell nothing but blood and you. I'm here! I cry out, desperate to hear you again. It doesn't have to end. And, we dance.

And, the ceiling collapses and you're nothing but an empty feeling that haunts my dreams and wakes me up in a cold sweat in a room with black walls.

I can't forgive you, I echo your words with mindless absence and float away, trying to forget that time that we danced, but you left scars on my lips and I still taste the blood.

Forget it, I fall and accept the soft ground in a room with no walls or ceiling and I build a statue of myself and climb to the top. This is me! I yell. This is who I am! I never liked our dance anyway.

Three Bandits

Daryn counted the bandits. “There are three guarding the entrance,” he whispered to his three companions.

“I'll sneak around them and try to flank them, you guys keep their attention,” Tina looked to Daryn for support.

“Good idea. Gareth and I will attack first. We'll focus on the bandit to our right with the longsword Gareth, you stay back with the bow and I'll charge in with my blade. Nathan, you draw the other two men's attention while Tina sneaks around their right side.”

They all nodded in agreement and prepared for the battle.

Gareth struck first, landing an arrow in the bandit's chest with a thunk.

Daryn charge in behind the arrow and sliced through the bandit's leather armor.

The bandit turned to his partners, “William, Sean, we're being attacked!” He swung his blade down and caught Daryn behind the leg, knocking him to his knees.

Nathan decided to distract the other two bandits by throwing rocks at them, drawing their main focus to him as Tina continued to sneak around their backs.

The two bandits, William and Sean, approached Nathan, weapons drawn. William gritted his yellow teeth as he brought his ax down on Nathan, but was knocked to the side by Tina as she struck him in the back of the head with the but of her knife.

Sean turned to her, his dirty brown hair falling into his face, and brought his own blade down on her. She quickly intercepted his sword with her knife and threw him back a bit.

Gareth drew his bow once more and took aim at his target. This time his arrow pierced straight through the bandit's leather armor and a bit of blood trickled out through the hole.

Daryn stood up and grabbed the arrow and shoved it in deeper, causing the bandit to cry out and fall to his knees, blood shooting from his mouth.

The bandit dropped his sword and grabbed the arrow in his chest.

“Dannith, hold on!” William recovered from the blow to his head and rushed past Tina and Nathan to his partner's side. He swung the side of his ax at Daryn and knocked him to the side and took position between his partner and Gareth.

Nathan turned to Tina, “Follow my lead.” He dove down and grabbed Sean's legs, pulling him to the ground. Immediately, Tina was on top of him trying to pin his arms.

Sean managed to throw Tina off of him, but couldn't kick Nathan loose.

Daryn and Gareth exchanged glances and Daryn tackled the bandit, William, while Gareth notched and shot at arrow, landing it straight into Dannith's chest, knocking the bandit to the ground, unconscious.

William threw Daryn off himself and stood up while Tina managed to successfully pin Sean down.

Nathan stood up and hit Sean in the head with the butt of his blade, knocking him unconscious.

Gareth shot an arrow at William, but missed. Daryn stood up and took advantage of the distraction, knocking William in the head.

William saw his two partners go down and decided that this was a losing battle that wasn't worth dying for. He quickly fled the scene as one more arrow from Gareth's bow whirred past his head.

Daryn and Nathan quickly tied the two bandits up with rope and then they all let the adrenaline leave their systems.

“Is anyone seriously injured?” Gareth looked around the group.

“My armor is shot,” Daryn tossed the rags that used to be his leather armor to the ground, “Other than that, I'm fine.”

“I wasn't hurt,” Tina looked around the group.

“Nor I,” Nathan spoke up, “How long do you suppose these two will be out?”

“A few hours at the least,” Daryn examined the two bandits, “They won't be causing us much trouble when they do wake up.”

“Why don't we just slit their throats and be done with them?” Tina eyed them, playing with her knife in her hands.

“Because,” Gareth looked at her sharply, “We're better than that.”

“Yes,” Daryn agreed, “Now let's go. There will be more inside and we must be prepared.”

Victim of my Greed

Oblivion is a place of nothing, and not much of a place either. I formed here, the guardian of nothing. I started changing things once I got bored. I would take lost spirits from the mortal realm and bring them to Oblivion. It became something—a transport to the afterlife, a chance at redemption for those who would have been forced to wander the mortal realm.

Some revered me as a god and chose to remain in Oblivion with me. Others shunned me as a demon. I dealt with those who would lay curses on me the only way I knew; I destroyed them, made them one with the nothing.

But things became stale and unexciting—once again, I was bored and my followers could not entertain me. I looked upon the afterlife and saw the wonders of having everything and I grew envious. I wanted it, but I could not take it. The leader of the afterlife was too powerful for me and my mere army. If only there were two of me....

I turned to the mortal realm; perhaps one of the lost souls could grow into a being like me. After lifetimes of searching and studying and trial and error, I found a mortal with potential: a scarred soul, lost in the midst of those who would shun her. She kept a secret lust for another.

I would have to test her. Would her lust for power match mine? Her love had taken another lover and I saw my chance. I came to this woman in a vision and offered her the power to gain her lover back. She would become one of my minions in the mortal realm—a witch, as they were called. As a price for this power, she would enter Oblivion upon her death.

She knew the risks. My mortal minions were being actively hunted in their realm. She did not care; she took the deal and gained her lover back. This was not enough for me. I came to her many times and taught her well; she grew strong and hungry for more. She wanted to rule the mortal realm—that was not my will.

I came to her lover as, what she called, an angel. I told the lover of the witch, my protégé, and led her to the witch's lair. My protégé caught her lover and betrayed her. She sentenced her to be burned at the stake, a price my protégé should have paid.

I watched the witch take her own life in regret. Good. We would have the afterlife as ours.

Victim of my Betrayal

The fire crackled and she screamed like a devil and the crowd chanted, “Burn the witch! Burn the witch!”

I turned my eyes away and started back to my house; the chanting echoed in my ears long after I had entered my basement. I remembered my lover's glowing red hair before the fire torched it, long curls that bounced past her shoulders.

When she saw my lab for the first time and her eyes grew wide and started watering, my heart sank. The betrayal she must have felt threw her into a rage. I still have piles of swept-up glass from broken vials in the corners.

“You're not a witch!” she said. She held my hand and stroked my face. “This isn't yours!” She made excuses.

I had to be calm, but she couldn't be. She fell to the floor and clung to my dress pleading, “Please, no.” But the answer was yes. As cold as it must have felt to hear, “Yes.”

Our love was hard enough for us to keep a secret and I knew she couldn't handle the betrayal. When she left, she left full of hate and I filled with sadness. I knew what would come next, but I'd hoped it wasn't true.

With the remaining equipment I had after our fight, I concocted a potion to make my flesh clear and my footsteps silent and I followed her. Straight to the sheriff's home. It was out of my hands at that point. My work was vital to ending the witch hunts and I couldn't let it be lost. I had to act.

I had a precious advantage and the plan was formulated and put into motion. I beat her by a precious few minutes and silently slayed the sheriff and his family. I knew she would be in shock at the sight and I knew I'd have to to rush back home. I grabbed some vials and raw ingredients and placed them in a hidden place in her home and it was done. As soon as she reported the crime, she'd be the first suspect.

The rest was like walking through a dream. The search only lasted a few hours before the items I had planted were found. There was no trial, she was a witch and they had the proof.

It took only a few hours to get the fire set up for lighting. She never looked at me the entire time and she never spoke my name, not even to cast blame. I guess that's what hurt to most. I had just condemned her to be burned with fire and she wouldn't do the same to me.

—

I wiped tears from my cheeks as I prepared my final potion. The curves of the vials were her curves; the fires were her burning; the bubbles and fumes were her whispers. I put the potion to my lips, her lips to mine.

In the end, my work would be abandoned, unfinished. But, I couldn't forget the picture of her eyes locked on mine as her face became smothered in flame. I would love to imagine we'd be together in death, but I was to be cursed to oblivion.

My hand trembled as I tilted the potion and drank my bitter death.

Psychosonic

I flicked out my cigarette and watched the cops ram a car into a building: a reminder of the dangers of my job. The man in the car had been blasting this psychosonic music out his windows—the kind of music that messes with your mind and makes you feel superhuman. It was the kind of music that made you stupid enough to blare it out your car in the city.

Blam!

Blam!

Two shots—one to the head and the second to the chest to make sure, and then the cops rolled away. He got what was coming to him; everybody knew how dangerous it was to own that music.

The briefcase I carried burned in my hands, “Hey, Tommy. Why do you think we do what we do?”

Tommy was my partner. Real quiet on these trips, but not from experience; he was young and nervous. He wore his cap backward and a button-up shirt missing buttons so he just let it hang open. He was a good guy, though. Dependable. He knew how to fight and when to walk away and he had the scars on his knuckles and chest to show for it.

He thought for a minute before responding, “I don't know. Boredom? We need the money to eat and I guess we both just want what happened to that guy up there to happen to us one day.”

Yeah, I thought to myself as we walked along in silence, We all have a death wish, don't we. Every person alive today wishes they weren't, but it's not so easy as that, is it?

We held our breath as we passed an officer on the sidewalk and tried our best not to make eye contact. They wore these big goggles that glowed titanium yellow and could see into your soul. At least, that's what it felt like every time one of 'em looked at you—like they were looking straight through you and could hear every one of your thoughts and feel everything you were feeling. It always gave me chills.

When we passed him, I watched the tension leave Tommy's muscles and the burning in my hand cooled down a bit. The path we tread was grimy and littered with bits of newspapers and missing person signs. I kicked a soda can onto the street and watched it fall through a gutter. The air smelled of rotten eggs and there always seemed to be a thin layer of dust over everything, you could feel it when you breathed. The only reason I smoked was to take the taste out of my mouth. That's what I told myself as I lit another one up.

Tommy was a big guy, he stood about five inches taller than me and I wasn't short. He didn't grow any facial hair and kept what he had on his head trimmed short. He wasn't much to look at, but he was a good partner. We were standing in front of a building, our delivery in hand, and Tommy buzzed the room. The door unlocked with a *click* and we walked in.

The man we were delivering to was a real mess, a nutjob: a typical client. His room smelled worse than the city and was cluttered with dirty clothes and plates of half-eaten food, save one corner. In that corner sat a music player and some headphones. He looked up at us with big, sunken-in eyes and drool crusted on his gaunt face. His hair was matted down in places. He gave us the cash and I gave him the briefcase and that was that.

As we walked back, I looked up at Tommy and said, “Do you really think this is worth dying for, Tommy?”

He shrugged and answered, “I don't know. But, what's worth living for these days?”

I guess he was right.

Thanks

“You don’t talk back to me! You don’t have the right to talk back to me!”

I stood firm and wiped the tears from my face. No more yelling, I was sick of it. “Don’t talk to me like that, dad!” My fists were clinched and my face was red.

His face twisted in rage. “Do you wanna fight me!?”

What? No! But I couldn’t say the words faster than his fist could break my nose. I fell to the floor and backed myself against the back of the couch. What’s happening? I couldn’t feel the pain, but I knew it should have hurt. Tears and blood mingled around my lips, but I couldn’t taste it.

“Stop crying, pussy!”

My face hit the floor and I could hear my step-mom come into the room, but I couldn’t tell what she was saying. What’s happening? She was on the floor next to me and she was scared. What’s happening? I tasted his shoe on my face and I felt my lip slowly swell, but it didn’t hurt.

“No, stop!” She screamed, but only once. She laid unconscious next to me.

I tried to back up farther, but the couch was in the way. Please stop. I’ll tell my teachers that I bit my lip too hard and it swelled up. I wiped blood from my face. It smeared against my arm.

“Don’t you get that on my couch! This is my house! You don’t wipe blood all over my house!” He lifted his foot, but I cowered back and he stopped.

The door outside was behind him. I couldn’t make it. The sun through the window burned my eyes. What’s happening?

I was in class and my teacher smiled and gave me some chap-stick, but my lips weren’t chapped, “Thanks.” I smiled and took my seat.

The Escape

As we scaled down the wall, the taste of fresh air burst in my mouth and, for the first time in years, I felt the cool night air blow through my clothes.

It was a tough climb down, but we weren't in any position to rest, my partner, Tobias, and I. It was his plan and my ingenuity that got us out of that godforsaken hellhole, and the pain in my muscles from the climb was nothing compared to the pain of losing my freedom. In his eyes, I could see the same conviction.

On the shore of the island, far from the piercing cries of the sirens and the barking of the watch dogs, we finally granted ourselves a minute to catch our breath. I could smell the salty ocean and feel it fill my lungs: a sweet aroma compared to the medley of odors inside the prison. I gazed at the stars. “Look up there,” I said to Tobias, pointing to the sky, “What do you see?”

“The sky? The stars. I don't really see much of anything.”

“You know what I see?” I asked, not expecting an answer. Pausing for emphasis, I stated, “Opportunity. You know, Tobias, I've always been an opportunist.” In those billions of stars and planets, in the almost endlessness of the ocean on all sides, I saw my freedom and all the possible new lives I could create. Everything was stretched out before me like an empty canvas, and I had the paint.

Tobias had carried a makeshift raft that I worked on for months, made of raincoats provided to us and our inmates. We promptly inflated it and hopped on. The salty ocean air burned my eyes. I welcomed the new sensations. The taste of the water on my lips, the dirt and grime clinging to my now wet clothes. The pure silence of the whole experience. Tobias stared into the sky, apparently seeing for the first time what I had seen earlier. Tears smeared the dirt on both our faces.

We never saw the rock sticking out of the water off the shore. The darkness of night and the waves hid it from us until our raft smashed into it, knocking Tobias and me on our faces, and then the death hiss of the air as it drained from a puncture in the raft. We were almost close enough to turn back, but the current was pulling us out farther and our paddles had fallen in the water during the impact. My heart raced in my chest and I could feel the adrenaline pumping through me. Tobias was yelling something, wide-eyed, frightened. We both tried to paddle the raft toward the shore with our hands, but it was too late. It had flattened and we were sinking with nothing to hold onto.

Three days later, a young officer approached the chief guard of the prison. The constant roar of inmates fighting and yelling was never out of earshot in this place.

“Sir, their bodies were found, caught against the rocks on the southern end of the island.”

“Thank you, officer. I want a full report on my desk by the end of the week. Dismissed.” The young officer nodded and walked out of the room, leaving the chief alone. The chief turned, a deep frown crossed his face, a permanent feature of the man. “I knew those sumbitches wouldn't make it. Nobody's ever made it off this island, and nobody ever will.”

Back at the sinking raft.

As the raft sank and Tobias held onto it with his life, I swam east just like I'd practiced every night for the last six months. I grabbed onto the same rock to which I tied my personal boat, made from wood and other debris that had washed up on short, much sturdier than the raincoat raft. I turned to watch Tobias sink, as I knew he would. He couldn't swim; almost nobody inside could swim. After decades locked indoors, it's easy to forget.

I hopped in my boat and dumped the body of the man I'd killed, only an hour before we'd left, into the water. I untied the twine, I made, and pulled inside the boat and began rowing away. Tobias's body floated against the rocks just like the other man's. Their faces would be picked away by the fish and they would be unrecognizable by the time they were found.

I leaned back in my boat and looked once more at the sky. Freedom, I thought before closing my eyes. For the first time in twenty-five years, I finally knew freedom.

Fighting off the Crows

“Hey, guys! What's up?” A young girl walked up to the group, her black hair almost purple in the light. Her sharp, thin well-defined features clearly marked her as a half-elf. Her smile was big as she pushed her long hair behind her right ear, letting it hang in front of her eye on the left.

“Oh! Hi, Little Susie. We're just on duty, so...nothing.” Tina smiled at Little Susie.

“On duty again? Weren't you guys on duty last night?” Little Susie tilted her head slightly and raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Nathan's voice was monotone, “Boss must love us.”

“After last night, you'd think he'd give us a break,” Daryn rolled his eyes and pulled his mouth to one side in disappointment.

“Yeah, I heard about the scary wolves,” Little Susie made a baby face as she said it, “Ha!”

“Hey! They were no walk in the park, okay?” Daryn took on a defensive stance.

Little Susie chuckled, “But the way you tell it, you guys fought a dragon!”

“Wolves, dragons, it's hard to tell the difference sometimes, right Daryn?” Gareth elbowed him and knocked him slightly off balance.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. What are you up to, Little Susie?” Daryn's attempt to change the subject was less than subtle.

“I'm glad you asked!” Little Susie perked up, “I'm on an important mission and I need volunteers, and since you aren't doing anything...I was hoping you guys would volunteer.”

“What's the mission?” Nathan lowered his eyebrows and crossed his arms behind his back as he leaned in a bit.

“I'll take that as a yes!” She hopped a bit as she spoke, “Today,” her tone lowered slightly and she scrunched up her mouth and eyebrows, “we're going to take on the oh-so-important job of scaring the crows from the corn fields.”

“Oh?” Tina fingered the knives on her belt.

“Yep, and I'll show you guys how. It's not as tricky as it sounds, but it takes practice.” She grabbed Daryn by the wrist and dragged him behind her. The rest of the group followed accordingly.

“The trick is,” Little Susie's voice was a whisper. The corn field stretched out before the group as they hunched down, little sprouts dotting the field with rows of green, “you can't just scare them; they'll just go to a different part of the field. You gotta scare them from all sides, so they think there's nowhere else to go. Follow my lead. Daryn, you stay with me. Tina, Nathan, and Gareth, you guys go around and try to encircle them.” She grabbed Daryn's hand and walked, crouched toward the crows. The other three began sneaking around.

Once they formed a solid circle around the crows, they started sneaking in. “Damn!” Nathan cursed himself as stones dropped from their pouch at his side. The crows turned to him and all flew up and away. “Hey!” Nathan's eyes grew wide, “I did it.” He stood up, arms on his hips and chest puffed out.

Little Susie chuckled as the crows landed a few yards away and Nathan's chest deflated. She motioned for them to regroup. “This time,” she looked at Nathan, “we'll make sure all our stuff is on properly, okay?” Nathan looked down sadly and Tina playfully punched his shoulder.

“Fine,” he said, “Sorry, guys. This time I've got it.”

“They'll be more wary now,” Little Susie got serious again, “We've gotta be extra sneaky.” She motioned for them to circle the crows again, and held onto Daryn's hand, dragging him with her.

The group got in close this time and Little Susie motioned for their attention. “Follow my lead,” she mouthed as she counted down with her fingers from three, “Three...two...one. Raah!” She let go of Daryn's hand and charged forward and the others followed. The crows lept up and knocked each other in confusion as they flew away from the field. “Good job, guys.” Little Susie perked up again and bounced as she spoke.

“Thank you. Thank you,” Gareth bowed.

“They won't be back for a while,” Tina looked triumphantly at the fleeing crows.

“Yeah, well, we'd better get back to our patrol,” Daryn smiled at Little Susie, “We wouldn't want to get in trouble.”

Nathan made an obvious frown, “Leave it to Daryn to ruin the fun.”

“Don't worry, guys. Maybe you'll run into another dragon,” Little Susie chuckled and skipped away. The others laughed and patted Daryn on the back.

“Yeah, yeah. You guys can shove it.”

The Recovery

“Hurry up, Stinson,” Thadeus paced the room. His hands went into his pockets, behind his back, across his chest, and on his neck as he circled a server box. He and his friends all wore goggles on their faces.

Stinson was laid back in a chair, completely oblivious to the world around him. His avatar ran across the goggles of his friends, “I'm trying, okay? Just stay calm. Leroy, I need you to flip that switch for me.”

“Which one?” His voice was raised as he glanced across the room. The images in his goggles lightly obscured the world around him.

“The one on your left.”

“Which one? There are like fifteen here!”

“The green one...up...yeah, that one,” Stinson's voice was calm as he guided Leroy to the switch.

“This one?” He grabbed it with his rough hand and pulled it down.

“Shit! Not that one! Unflip it, unflip it!” Stinson's avatar blinked red in Leroy, Thadeus, and Pete's goggles.

“Jesus, dude?!” Pete appeared to be staring at a wall, “Don't fuck this up, Stinson. If we get caught, we're dead.”

“I know! Okay, flip the one under the one you just flipped.”

“This one?” Leroy was sure to indicate the switch he was about to flip.

“Yes”

Leroy flipped it.

“Okay, yep,” Stinson's tone was calm and direct, “they know we're here.”

“What?!” Thadeus's face was red and the veins in his neck stuck out farther than his ears.

“Calm down,” Stinson's avatar gestured his hands downward, “just calm down, okay? I got this. Pete, you see the red switch in front of you?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Flip it down.”

“Okay,” as the switch went down, an alarm sounded throughout the building and water could be heard pouring in rooms around them.

Stinson's avatar appeared to be searching through files in a hall of file cabinets, “That should create the diversion we need so I can find these files.”

“Fuck, dude! That's your plan?” Leroy was practically bouncing around the room with anxiety.

“I told you, I got this. See?” Stinson's avatar held up some papers for the group to look at, “I've got the files,” he stuffed them in his pocket and blinked away. Stinson's body jerked up from the seat and he took in a huge gasp, “Ugh, I hate coming out of the network,” he unplugged a few wires from the server in front of him and stood up.

“Great!” Pete looked back at the group, “Now, let's get the fuck out of here.”

Mommy, Where Are You?

“Mommy! Where are you?” A young boy ran through the woods, his face contorted with worry. His short brown hair was covered in caught twigs and leaves as he barreled through the trees and bushes. He had small cuts on his arms, none deep enough to draw blood, but still painful enough to make a boy of his age tear up. He had come out to his favorite park with his mother to celebrate his ninth birthday; she had disappeared hours earlier and he got lost trying to find her.

The sky was bright on this day and clouds covered most of it, casting shade on an otherwise hot day. Combined with the shadows of the trees, what little light that shined through bounced off of the young boy's face as he ran on.

“Mommy? Stop playing! Where are you?” His cries were frantic as he looked around. He had lost all sense of direction as he turned in circles and ran at random, finding himself in the same place many times over. He stood, once again in the place he had started. To the east were some bushes with little green berries that he knew he shouldn't eat. They dotted the bush in clusters. A little brown bird landed on one of the branches and began pecking at some of the berries. “No,” the little boy ran over to the bushes waving his arms in a shooing motion at the bird, “Don't eat those; they're bad for you.” The bird flew away, scared and confused.

The little boy plopped down into the dirt and leaves on the ground and started crying. Mud streaked his face in long fingers where he wiped his tears. His eyes grew red and puffy. “Where are you mommy?” His cries came out small and helpless.

In the distance, the sound of frogs croaking could be heard. It was a continuous white noise in the background of the forest around him. It almost drowned out all the other noise as he sat, silent, staring forward in a daze.

In front of him, to the west, were two tall, skinny trees that reached up, almost touching the sky. He watched two squirrels playing tag on the trees—chasing each other up and down the trunks, sending bark flying out in all directions. Any other day, he would have found this sight funny and he would have laughed, but right now he felt worse than ever. He was alone; he had never been alone before, not like this anyway.

“Mommy!” He started crying once more, “Where are you?”

The Plan

The city below them was an expansive network of grids crisscrossing in a patchwork of small buildings and sky-scrapers. Cars sped down the roads like ones and zeros across the bus of a motherboard,  lights dotting the city through the darkness like a giant machine with too many switches to count, flickering without a comprehensible pattern. Three boys, teenagers, stared across the landscape from the roof of a sky-scraper on the edge of the city. A fourth sat against the railing, touching at the air as if in an imaginary world of his own, goggles on his face and circuit-run gloves on his hands. He bobbed his head back and forth to the beat of the music coming from his sound-nullifying headphones.

“So what do we do, huh? After our last mishap, we're fucked!” Thadeus, the youngest of the group, threw his arms to the side. His face was red.

“Relax, D; we can figure something out. Our lives aren't over yet,” Pete, the tallest of the group, tried to keep his voice calm as he spoke, but choked a bit on his words. He knew they had fucked up and he had no idea how to fix it.

“He's right, Pete. They know our signature; they have our file; hell, they know everything about us now. How to we come back from that? Nobody's gonna want to deal with us, our faces are on practically everything now.” Leroy placed his thumb and index finger on the bridge of his nose and leaned against the cold, steel railing. His eyes were closed and he tried to calm his nerves.

Pete turned to the two, feeling like they were ganging up on him. He sat on the railing and leaned his body out over the street, fifteen stories down. The buzz of traffic rang through his ears as he assessed the situation.

“So, what do we do?” Thadeus interrupted his thinking.

“I don't know, okay? We can't just pick up and go somewhere else, the corporation's everywhere and we can't stay here; we'd be caught within weeks. We need to strike back. We need to destroy our files.”

“They're on lock-up,” the boy sitting against the railing didn't look at the group as he spoke to them. He left his headphones and goggles on and continued touching at the air, “They're keeping them in a secure vault within their network. I can't access any of it from here, but if you bring me to their server room, I could get to the files and delete them.”

“See?” Pete turned to Thadeus, “Things are looking up,” his grin almost reached both of his ears.

The Wolves

“This is so boring!” Tina rubbed the edge of her blade and turned it to reflect the light of the moon. “How come we always get caught up in the boring shifts?”

“Because,” Daryn's gaze pierced her annoyed grimace, “every shift is boring. You know that. Just try to keep it to yourself.”

“Huff,” Tina's short hair was a clear indication that she loved to play with her knives just a bit too much. She scraped her knife against her arm, it's six-inch blade catching every hair and throwing them to the ground.

“Guys,” Gareth's voice was a whisper, “I think I see a bit of excitement approaching at the edge of the field,” his hand motioned in the same direction his light blue eyes were staring. His focus was intense as he drew his bow, “I count three wolves looking for a late-night meal. What say we ruin dinner for them?”

Nathan already had his sling drawn and loaded, “I'll draw their attention.”

Daryn turned to Nathan, “Great. Tina and I will attack head on. Gareth, you keep them at bay from a distance.”

Tina's eyes flickered—two little stars amongst the millions in the sky, “Finally, some action. Daryn, you can handle the straight-forward crap. I bet I can get behind them. We'll be wearing their coats as trophies in no time.”

“Fine, just don't leave me hanging by a thread,” Daryn walked forward with his long blade in his left hand. The wolves noticed the man immediately and two turned to him, the third ignoring him completely, focused more on the sheep in the field. “Raah!” Daryn charged forward at the largest wolf. The wolf dodged the sword and Daryn rolled, coming back to a crouched position with his blade held in front of him defensively.

The wolves circled him, assessing the threat when a quiet crack caught the smaller one's attention. “Ugh, the Demons must favor me,” Tina let out a short curse as she looked at the twig she just snapped beneath her foot. The smallest wolf was on her in an instant, too quick for her to defend.

“Hey!” Nathan's stone knocked the wolf in the head and off of Tina, “Not so fast, you little shit!”

The third wolf circled slowly around the sheep, hoping to catch it's prey and leave quickly, but an arrow landed in its path. It looked around cautiously and crouched lower, maybe it could still make it past the guards.

Daryn struck out at the larger wolf, but his blade did not land. The wolf circled around to his partner and they stood back-to-back with teeth barred, letting out low growls. Tina ignored their warning and threw a dagger at the one that just tackled her. The dagger missed, but landed in the back thigh of the largest one. With a loud yelp, the two wolves ran away.

The third wolf, ignoring the scuffle, continued on his mission, until another arrow landed much too close to his head, spooking him and sending him off behind his friends.

“Yeah! You better run!” Tina tossed another dagger their way, but it fell short. “Well,” she turned to her party, “there's our excitement for the week.”

Nathan snorted at her words, “Too much for me. I'd rather be bored than risking our lives against wolves.”

“I don't know what you mean,” Gareth returned from gathering his two shot arrows, “I didn't risk my life at all.”

“Yeah? Well,” Daryn looked at the three, “the important thing is how cool I looked out there. How would you guys rate my performance?”

Tina smirked, “About one step higher than an adventurer clearing a basement of rats.”

“Yeah? Well, where's our wolf coats you promised us?”

“Next time, I'm sure. Right, Tina?” Nathan laid on his back, his arms crossed behind his head. He was too busy counting the stars to see Tina nod in agreement.

We're Dead Anyway

She smiled at him, her tears striking lines in the dirt on her face. I guess you were right. She laughed and empty laugh.

Yeah, His expression was bleak and his eyes vacant, A lot of good that does us now, huh? He turned to her, but his eyes were on the floor, Now all we can hope to do is survive for as long as we can. He tried to smile, but, like her laugh, it was left incomplete and didn't comfort her at all. The door on the closet in which they were hiding was thin, and they could hear the loud cry of another victim. The shriek, cut short, became a low, sputtering gurgle, mere feet from their hiding spot.

What if we can kill it? Her eyes, stained black from the taint in the air around them, pleaded at him.

We've tried and we can't, he insisted, biting skin from his dry lips. Even if we could, we're dead anyway.

Yes, her voice, a raised whisper filled with desperation, but we can try again. What are our other options: sit here and die? And even if we are dead anyway, if we kill it, won't we be saving countless other lives? Another shriek pierced the air.

What are we supposed to do? We can't run! We can barely stand; our legs don’t work. We're too weak; the poison has taken all our strength from us. He stopped himself from speaking any further, slumping silently. Outside the room, they could hear the monster’s heaving breath. It lumbered lazily past their door. Besides, his voice took on a quieter tone, what could we possibly use to kill him?

I don't know, she looked down, defeated. I was just being hopeful, I guess.

Yeah? Well, hope is what got us into this. His left hand began trembling uncontrollably. He tried to stop it with his other hand, but the trembling was too strong. Now all we have to hope for is that our organs liquefy before It sucks them from our necks.

She let her head fall hard against the wall behind her and sat in silence.

Weeks earlier the two were sitting in a small observing room, looking through a one-way mirror. The girl was young and lively, she wore light blue scrubs and her red hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She was almost bouncing with excitement.

The guy was much older than her. He had beard stubble lining his neck and chin and held a pen and pad, taking notes while he observed the creature on the other side of the mirror.

Her hands were crossed behind her and she turned to him, “Richard, what do you think? Isn't it amazing? We've finally been able to create life from non-living material!”

“Yes, well, that was our intent,” he sounded bored and never looked at her, keeping his eyes on the creature and his notes, “Do you need to state the obvious every time we come to observe it?” He glared at her before returning to his work, “Besides, our results aren't exactly what we were hoping for. It's mindlessly aggressive and hard to kill. It is dangerous, Kara; remember that.”

She looked at the creature in the other room. It was large with brown skin and skulked around the room, surprisingly light on its feet for its ape-like appearance, “Maybe,” she said, “But it's still amazing.”

Do you have a match? Her tone became a bit more excited as she looked around their closet.

What?

Do you have a match? We're in the janitor's closet! I can't believe I hadn't noticed before.

I have a Zippo. What are you doing? He reached into his pocket and pulled out the lighter.

Good enough. She snatched it from him and grabbed a jug of ammonia and a jug of bleach, setting a mop bucket in front of herself. If we mix these together, maybe we can make an explosive.

What are you talking about? His vision was blurry and he could barely keep up with her frantic movements.

I don't know! It's Nitrogen something. You can get it if you mix ammonia and bleach, you can get it. Maybe we can kill it if we make it explode. Her expression became mischievous as she poured in the ammonia. Cover your mouth, this will burn. Once I pour this in, we'll need to make a lot of noise to draw its attention. If we're gonna die, we may as well go out in a bang, right?

He moved his right hand up to pull his shirt over his mouth. He left hand was trembling again, but he could no longer feel it. He tried to say something, but he couldn't move his mouth.

Hey, you big freak! We're in here! They could hear the monster running down the hall toward them. She struck the lighter and the little flame flicked up. In here! We're in—ahck! Hack augh! She began coughing uncontrollably, her lungs burned as the room filled with a sickly green gas. She held the lighter steady over the bucket. The suddenness of the door swinging open shocked her. The last thing she saw was the monster's grotesque face, deformed and asymmetric. She dropped the lighter.

We Cannot Leave Her

If we leave her to the spiders, she will die! His eyes flared up, almost glowing against his dark skin.

A female spoke up. I know, Elwood, but we cannot risk losing the sword! It is the only weapon that can be used against the Dark Lord and it is almost within our grasp! Her voice was hard and weary, hoarse. If we go back for Tallie, we might miss our chance to grab the sword.

Who cares?! He swung his arm to the side as if to push the idea off of a table in front of him. We cannot go without her; too many lives have been carelessly thrown away on this journey. Not hers too!

I know, Elwood. She pleaded to him with her arms. But if the Dark Lord succeeds, we will have no more nation, no more world to go back to. We cannot risk this; we will fail.

Tears welled up in his already red eyes. Aaagh! The gods be damned! He clenched his teeth and threw his battle-axe to the tiled floor. The sound was quickly silenced by the small room. What kind of gods would send us all to our deaths like this? Have they turned our backs on us?

Her heart sank to see even a Paladin questioning the gods. She stroked her long, green hair, matted with dirt and blood. Her eyes lost focus as she wondered what they could possibly do. Remember what we all agreed, Elwood? If it comes to one of us or the sword, we all agreed that we would sacrifice ourselves for the greater good. She looked up at him, hoping he could understand.

His chest burned. But she was the youngest of us all! How could the gods take her like this?

She grew pale with fear at his words. Stop it! The gods have a plan for us all; it is not your duty to question them! Her hands were in fists at her side.

His eyes turned down in shame and tears ran freely down his brown cheeks. Then if it is the gods' will that we go after this sword, we must obey. He picked up his axe and turned toward the room's exit, a new determination in his eyes, fueled by anger and rage. His knuckles grew white as he gripped his weapon.

She tied her hair as he walked away from her. If this is the gods' will, She thought as she pulled out her bow, ready to follow behind him, then perhaps we need new gods.

BLAM!!

We should kill 'em dawg. He paced the room with his skinny arms flailing. They seen too much. They saw our faces. They gon' turn us in. We gon' get caught, dawg. He turned to his friend. His face contorted with frustration and desperation.

Man, fuck you! I ain't killin' nobody! The fuck you talkin' 'bout 'They seen our faces; we should kill 'em,' man, fuck you! Sweat beaded on his forehead and ran down his cheek.

You ain't gon' kill em?

Hell nah, I ain't killin' nobody.

Then what the fuck'd you bring a gun for then, dawg? His skinny arms extended from his torso and his chest puffed out toward his friend.

The room stood empty, stripped of anything small and valuable. Floral wallpaper lined the room and a bare entertainment center stood against the far wall.

Two young men knelt on the carpeted floor. Their hands worked at the duct tape that bound their arms and legs and covered their mouths. Tears rolled down their faces as they worked at their futile attempt to be free. One closed his hazel eyes and thought of his mother, wishing he could fold into her arms once more. He could almost feel her hand on his head, squeezing him close. The other, with long brown hair falling in his face, tried to cry out, but his voice was muffled by the tape.

Not to murder nobody, man! His big eyes looked desperately at his partner. This gun ain't even loaded.

BLAM!!

Everyone jumped as the gun fell to the floor. Pictures on the walls shook from the blast. The two young men worked harder at their restraints and tried desperately to plea for their lives; their cries were silenced by the tape.

Shut the fuck up! He looked at the two young men and reached a lanky arm down to grab the gun. What the fuck, dawg! He turned to his friend. Are you tryin' to shoot me?! Man, fuck you, pussy; I'll kill 'em. His small hands shook as he held the gun up to the back of the young man's head. Short, curly hair wrapped around the barrel of the gun.

The young man's hazel eyes blurred with tears while he tried desperately to free his hands. His face wrinkled and his eyes squeezed shut. Tears dripped from the tip of his nose.

Don't do it, man!

BLAM!!

Blood sprayed on the carpet and glass coffee table.

What the fuck, man?! You're fucking killing people; I'm fucking out of here. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and ran out the door, not bothering to shut it behind him.

Yeeyah! He turned to the other young man, blood stained his white wife-beater. His skinny arms dangled at his sides. I'm a stone-cold killa'. What's my name? Heh, I guess you'll never know.

BLAM!!