Vin Diesel credits Paul Walker with putting him 'on the right path' to fatherhood
Sep. 19, 2016 at 6:39 AMRee Hines
It’s a boy for former 'Bachelorette' star Emily Maynard — see the adorable pic
Paul Walker was more than just a friend and fellow actor to his "Fast & Furious" co-star Vin Diesel. Though he was six years younger, Walker was also a role model, and it was his influence that put Diesel on the path to parenthood.
Getty Images
Diesel has spoken out about the man he called "brother" many times since Walker's 2013 death, and on Saturday, he did so again in a Facebook Live clip that focused on the late star's guiding role in his life.
"He must've been God-sent, because he put me on the right path. He set me up," Diesel said in the video that was meant to raise awareness and donations for Walker's charity, Reach Out WorldWide. "When we did the first 'Fast & Furious,' I was already 30 years old or something, but he was a father. So when we were in the cars in between takes, he would tell me, 'Hey, Vin, it's not a scary thing to become a father,' (and) give me all this good advice. Next thing I know, I am a dad."
In fact, Diesel is now a father to three children — Hania (8), Vincent (6) and Pauline (1), who was named in honor of Walker.
This Blog is a compilation of different great stories from many sources which is a work of art by different authors. The goal of this blog is to give a nice cross section of short stories in the hope that these short stories will excite people into rediscovering this excellent source of entertainment. The stories in this blog are fictional and non-fictional and are the highest quality stories from great writers around the world.
Monday, September 19, 2016
News: JonBenet Ramsey's brother Burke reveals who he thinks brutally killed his six-year-old sister
JonBenet Ramsey's brother Burke reveals who he thinks brutally killed his six-year-old sister
21:39, 19 SEP 2016 UPDATED 23:29, 19 SEP 2016
BY CLAIRE RUTTER
The brother of the six-year-old beauty pageant contestant broke his silence on the Dr Phil show
JonBenet Ramsey's brother Burke has responded to the theory that his parents covered up his sister's murder in order to protect during the final part of his interview with Dr Phil and given his opinion on who he thinks killed her.
In the final instalment, which aired on Monday, the 29-year-old was asked about the shocking theory that Burke could have possibly been involved in his six-year-old sister's unsolved murder.
“I don't know what to say to that, because I know that's not what happened. There's been people who have said that's not even physically possible for a nine-year-old to do that,” he stated.
“Like you won't find any evidence, because I didn't do it.”
He answered categorically “no” to Dr Phil's question, about killing his sister.
Burke Ramsey on Dr. Phil
Burke Ramsey on Dr. Phil
GettyThe site where 6 year old Jonbenet Ramsey was killed in Boulder, Colorado, 1996
Male DNA was found under JonBenet's fingernails suggesting that she had “clawed” at her attacker and DNA, likely to be saliva in her underwear, ruling out Burke and his family members.
Within two weeks of JonBenet's tragic death, on January 15th 1997, police were given a “strong suggestion” that the Ramsey's were not involved in the murder of the six-year-old.
Burke and his parents John and Patsy – who died of ovarian cancer in 2006 – were ruled out of any wrongdoing by the police in 2008.
Burke Ramsey on Dr. Phil
Burke Ramsey on Dr. Phil
Burke Ramsey on Dr. Phil
Burke, who broke his silence for the first time to mark the 20th anniversary of his sister's death, added: “Look at the evidence or the lack thereof.”
A footprint from a pair of Hi Tec boots were found at the Ramsey home and the family's lawyer insists that this is proof that an intruder got into the house.
“Burke Ramsey never owned a pair of hi Tec boots,” Lin Wood, the family's lawyer said.
Evidence found at the crime scene shows that a broken window, which could have been used to access the basement where JonBenet was found, had no leaves on it like other windows at the residence. On the otherside of that broken window was a suitcase, where police found a footprint. It's thought that an intruder could have possibly stepped on the suitcase to get back out of the window, leaving the footprint behind.
ReutersJohn (L) and Patsy Ramsey address the media after completing two days of police interviews regarding the death of their daughter Jon-Benet Ramsey at their lawyer's office in Atlanta, Georgia on August 29, 2000
Burke Ramsey on Dr. Phil
“I kinda always just thought it was a paedophile, who saw her at one of the pageants, snuck in, who knows?” Burke told Dr Phil about who he thinks killed his sister.
The murder of the six-year-old beauty queen has never been solved and has been at the centre of conspiracy theories as to who her killer could be.
One of the theories alleging that there could not have been an intruder was that there had not been any footprints found in the snow on the fateful morning.
Investigators stated to the media that no footprints had been discovered at the scene and that there had not been any sign of forced entry at the Ramsey's Colorado family home.
The case has been examined on the Dr Phil show, with the host talking to John Ramsey and his son Burke.
KPA/Zuma/REXJonBenet Ramsay
Crime scene photos taken on the day her body was discovered showed little snow
On Thursday's show, Dr Phil discussed the missing footprints in the snow, which he claimed was the “number one thing that made people prejudiced against the Ramseys” and pointed out one obvious fact from the crime scene photos.
Pictures taken by police on the day that JonBenet Ramsey was found dead in 1996 and there were only patches of snow that could be seen.
“There's no snow,” Dr Phil said, showing the crime scene photos around the house meant no footprints could have been left by an intruder, referring to reports that the investigators had been trying to get a confession about the murder
21:39, 19 SEP 2016 UPDATED 23:29, 19 SEP 2016
BY CLAIRE RUTTER
The brother of the six-year-old beauty pageant contestant broke his silence on the Dr Phil show
JonBenet Ramsey's brother Burke has responded to the theory that his parents covered up his sister's murder in order to protect during the final part of his interview with Dr Phil and given his opinion on who he thinks killed her.
In the final instalment, which aired on Monday, the 29-year-old was asked about the shocking theory that Burke could have possibly been involved in his six-year-old sister's unsolved murder.
“I don't know what to say to that, because I know that's not what happened. There's been people who have said that's not even physically possible for a nine-year-old to do that,” he stated.
“Like you won't find any evidence, because I didn't do it.”
He answered categorically “no” to Dr Phil's question, about killing his sister.
Burke Ramsey on Dr. Phil
Burke Ramsey on Dr. Phil
GettyThe site where 6 year old Jonbenet Ramsey was killed in Boulder, Colorado, 1996
Male DNA was found under JonBenet's fingernails suggesting that she had “clawed” at her attacker and DNA, likely to be saliva in her underwear, ruling out Burke and his family members.
Within two weeks of JonBenet's tragic death, on January 15th 1997, police were given a “strong suggestion” that the Ramsey's were not involved in the murder of the six-year-old.
Burke and his parents John and Patsy – who died of ovarian cancer in 2006 – were ruled out of any wrongdoing by the police in 2008.
Burke Ramsey on Dr. Phil
Burke Ramsey on Dr. Phil
Burke Ramsey on Dr. Phil
Burke, who broke his silence for the first time to mark the 20th anniversary of his sister's death, added: “Look at the evidence or the lack thereof.”
A footprint from a pair of Hi Tec boots were found at the Ramsey home and the family's lawyer insists that this is proof that an intruder got into the house.
“Burke Ramsey never owned a pair of hi Tec boots,” Lin Wood, the family's lawyer said.
Evidence found at the crime scene shows that a broken window, which could have been used to access the basement where JonBenet was found, had no leaves on it like other windows at the residence. On the otherside of that broken window was a suitcase, where police found a footprint. It's thought that an intruder could have possibly stepped on the suitcase to get back out of the window, leaving the footprint behind.
ReutersJohn (L) and Patsy Ramsey address the media after completing two days of police interviews regarding the death of their daughter Jon-Benet Ramsey at their lawyer's office in Atlanta, Georgia on August 29, 2000
Burke Ramsey on Dr. Phil
“I kinda always just thought it was a paedophile, who saw her at one of the pageants, snuck in, who knows?” Burke told Dr Phil about who he thinks killed his sister.
The murder of the six-year-old beauty queen has never been solved and has been at the centre of conspiracy theories as to who her killer could be.
One of the theories alleging that there could not have been an intruder was that there had not been any footprints found in the snow on the fateful morning.
Investigators stated to the media that no footprints had been discovered at the scene and that there had not been any sign of forced entry at the Ramsey's Colorado family home.
The case has been examined on the Dr Phil show, with the host talking to John Ramsey and his son Burke.
KPA/Zuma/REXJonBenet Ramsay
Crime scene photos taken on the day her body was discovered showed little snow
On Thursday's show, Dr Phil discussed the missing footprints in the snow, which he claimed was the “number one thing that made people prejudiced against the Ramseys” and pointed out one obvious fact from the crime scene photos.
Pictures taken by police on the day that JonBenet Ramsey was found dead in 1996 and there were only patches of snow that could be seen.
“There's no snow,” Dr Phil said, showing the crime scene photos around the house meant no footprints could have been left by an intruder, referring to reports that the investigators had been trying to get a confession about the murder
News: Rio 2016 : Olympic security chief attacked after opening ceremony before knife-wielding robber shot dead by police
Rio 2016 : Olympic security chief attacked after opening ceremony before knife-wielding robber shot dead by police
22:28, 7 AUG 2016 UPDATED 01:44, 2 SEP 2016
BY JEREMY ARMSTRONG , GERARD COUZENS
Portugal's minister of education was robbed as he headed back to his hotel in the South American city as it emerged the Olympic security chief had also been attacked after the opening ceremony
RexIpanema in Rio de Janeiro, BrazilThe South American city continues to be rocked by crime and security scares as it hosts the 2016 games
The Rio 2016 Olympic games have been rocked by more trouble after it emerged the Olympic security chief had been attacked after he left the opening ceremony.
The Olympics security chief was attacked as he left the Games opening ceremony by a knife-wielding robber who was shot dead by a cop.
Felipe Seixas was walking to his car near the Maracanã Stadium early on Saturday when he was set upon by four men brandishing knives.
A policeman with him shot one of the assailants dead and the others fled.
Authorities have attempted to hush up details of the shooting, which is a monumental embarrassment to crime-plagued Rio 2016 bosses.
22:28, 7 AUG 2016 UPDATED 01:44, 2 SEP 2016
BY JEREMY ARMSTRONG , GERARD COUZENS
Portugal's minister of education was robbed as he headed back to his hotel in the South American city as it emerged the Olympic security chief had also been attacked after the opening ceremony
RexIpanema in Rio de Janeiro, BrazilThe South American city continues to be rocked by crime and security scares as it hosts the 2016 games
The Rio 2016 Olympic games have been rocked by more trouble after it emerged the Olympic security chief had been attacked after he left the opening ceremony.
The Olympics security chief was attacked as he left the Games opening ceremony by a knife-wielding robber who was shot dead by a cop.
Felipe Seixas was walking to his car near the Maracanã Stadium early on Saturday when he was set upon by four men brandishing knives.
A policeman with him shot one of the assailants dead and the others fled.
Authorities have attempted to hush up details of the shooting, which is a monumental embarrassment to crime-plagued Rio 2016 bosses.
Fantasy: Chicken and Egg
Marjorie opened the oven door and inserted a skewer into the dome of lemony sponge. “Done,” she announced.
Her husband Edward wandered into the kitchen of their tiny cottage. “Looks like a good ’un,” he said as Marjorie slid the cake onto a cooling rack. He licked a finger, pressing it into the stray crumbs that had fallen on the worktop.
“How many times have I told you not to do that!” Marjorie glared at him. Why did the silly old fool never listen?
As she turned to pick up the dishcloth there was a quiet explosion. Dignified, as befitted a lemon cake. She felt a warm splatter on the back of her cardigan and spun round. “What on earth?” Her mouth halted in the shape of a perfectly formed O as the evenly-browned sponge slid down the porcelain tiles.
Edward was staring at the ceiling. “How did that happen?” He wiped a blob of cake from his forehead and licked his fingers. “It was one of your best as well.”
Marjorie started scrubbing. “Go and see if that good-for-nothing hen has laid any eggs today and I’ll bake another cake.”
She watched him shuffle out to the garden and over to the chicken coop, where he reached inside the nest box of their remaining hen.
“That’s a surprise,” he said to Marjorie when he returned to the kitchen. “The lazy bugger’s laid 3 today.”
“Good,” she snapped, snatching them off him. “This one will have to be a chocolate cake, though,” she added, her face as sour as the lemons she didn’t have.
***
“I can’t understand why the chocolate cake exploded too,” Marjorie said as she climbed into bed and pulled the eiderdown under her chin.
“Perhaps it was the eggs,” Edward suggested. “They’ve been a funny colour the last 2 days.”
Marjorie sat bolt upright. “Yes – that’ll be it. Get rid of that hen in the morning!”
Their conversation drifted through the open window and settled in the chicken coop. Hen shook her head. It was bad enough the old couple hadn’t spotted that two of her sisters had Fowl Pox. Left untreated, it had killed them. Neither had they fixed the flimsy wire fence she had clucked and squawked about time and again.
To pay the couple back, she and her eldest sisters had spent weeks creating exploding eggs in their make-shift laboratory, hidden amongst the wood shavings and straw. But last week that wily fox had broken in and her sisters had been eaten.
Hen wiped away a stray tear. “Time for action!” she said, pushing at the fence, which still hadn’t been mended. She walked up the garden and crept inside the house. She strutted around the kitchen, her head working backwards and forward as she pecked at remnants of the two failed cakes lodged in the corners of the tiled floor. “At least I get to eat well today,” she muttered to herself. “I don’t know how they expect me to lay decent eggs on the scraps they feed me.”
She opened a drawer and chose a striped apron. She tied it tightly round her middle before pulling a mixing bowl and weighing scales out of a cupboard. She put butter and sugar into a bowl, beating vigorously until her wing ached. “They haven’t even given me a name,” she grumbled as she baked. “All my friends next door are called Henrietta, but I’m just known as ‘the hen’.” She beat in the eggs she’d produced especially and stirred in the secret ingredient that she and her sisters had also been working on.
“Date and walnut loaf,” she said, dolloping the mixture into a cake tin. She banged it into the oven, set the timer and sat down to wait.
***
“Here you are, Marjorie,” Edward said the next day as he handed her a china teacup and saucer. “Strong tea with a splash of milk.”
“Thank you,” she replied as she picked up a knife and started slicing the date and walnut loaf. She carefully placed two pieces on plates and passed one to her husband.
“Delicious,” he said. “You must have been up early this morning. I didn’t even smell it baking.”
She nodded faintly, placing each piece into her mouth slowly, savouring every morsel. She had been surprised when she had found it in her kitchen that morning. She couldn’t imagine who had left it, but she was going to take the credit because it was so delicious. There was an ingredient she couldn’t place. Cinnamon, maybe?
When she’d finished she dabbed the corners of her mouth with a handkerchief and placed her plate on the coffee table.
Edward crammed the last of his cake into his mouth and reached for the knife. “Another slice, Marjorie?”
“Yes,” she replied. “I think I will.”
***
Hen trundled up the garden dragging a coiled roped behind her. She let herself into the house and sneaked into the sitting room, where the man and woman were slumped in their chairs. The man was snoring like a steam train, but the woman’s breathing was soft and rhythmical, with just the occasional snort. Hen knew they would stay in this stupor for several hours, giving her just enough time.
It was hard work, but she tied the woman up first and dragged her through the opened French doors and down to the chicken coop. She stopped to catch her breath, wheezing slightly, and then lumbered back up the garden to do the same with the man.
She stood back, watching the couple snoozing on the straw. She then whistled loudly, prompting clucks of excitement from next door.
The Henriettas clambered over the low fence, feathers flying in their rush to be the first to see what had happened. They congratulated Hen and followed her back to the cottage, where she passed round cups of tea.
“Let’s taste some of the cake you’ve been clucking on about,” one of them said.
Hen chuckled. “I’d better make us a fresh one.”
She ambled down the garden, holding a basket under her wing. She wouldn’t be living in the cottage with her sisters as they’d planned, but she’d be happy with her friends. She wondered if the woman or the man had laid any eggs yet.
She stopped as she approached the coop. The chicken wire had been bent out of shape and the fox was sitting inside licking his lips, his stomach bloated.
He stood up and gave a low whistle. Instantly, five other foxes appeared by his side. “Come on boys,” he said. “I’ve always fancied having that old cottage as my den.”
***
The rumble of a car engine woke Fox from a deep sleep. He glanced around the kitchen at his sleeping mates – it had been another good night. He’d scavenged in local gardens for a takeaway and had then invited the lads back again to play cards. He’d lost at poker, but he’d win it all back tonight. He looked at the bodies lying amongst discarded wrappers, empty cartons and bones stripped of their meat. The weeks of collected debris had turned the air putrid. Yeah, life was good.
He listened intently before waking the others. “Human voices,” he said.
“They’re kicking the door in,” one of them replied. “Everyone up on their feet and looking mean!”
Two sets of footsteps echoed down the hall, stopping outside the kitchen.
“Oh my god!” a man’s voice spluttered. “The smell is rank. What on earth is it?”
“I don’t know,” another male voice replied. “I hope the old couple aren’t rotting somewhere!”
The first man laughed. “Nah – Bob said he’s not seen them for weeks. Thinks they’ve gone off to live with their daughter. He told me to get in quick before some other squatters come along.”
“Even so,” the first man said, “let’s just check round.”
Fox heard them banging around upstairs, opening and closing doors, then he felt the vibration of heavy tread coming down the stairs. “They’ll be coming in here next,” he told the others. “We have the element of surprise on our side. 1, 2, 3…”
As the kitchen door swung open, the foxes launched themselves at the men, teeth bared.
“What the—?” the taller man yelled.
Fox managed to sink his claws into one of the men’s legs, but the man was swift to react and kicked him hard before slamming the door shut.
“Quick!” Fox shouted to the others. “Round the back – we’ll get ’em before they reach their car!”
He opened the back door to find the men leaning against the wall. They both had shotguns slung over their forearms. As both men raised and cocked their guns, Fox’s five friends scarpered left and right, but Fox was determined to stand his ground.
“The thing is,” one of the men said to him, taking aim, “we really fancy living here.”
“Yes,” the other one added, “I’ve never had my own place before.” He glanced down the garden. “There’s even a hen house, Joe. We could keep chickens.”
End
Bio: Judy Bryan was born in Sheffield, England, but now lives in Berkshire with her husband. She has written three women's fiction novels: Playground Politics, Beyond the Clouds and Behind Closed Doors, which are all available on Amazon. She is a volunteer reader for a charity that helps children who are having difficulty reading.
Fantasy: Queen Anthea
The little Princess Stephanie dropped the red ant into the vibrant nest of black ants. The mass of black ants turned on the solitary red ant and within seconds had torn it to pieces. Her eyes lit up and she smiled to herself.
She walked around the large expanse of garden, before she came to a beautiful butterfly perched on a leaf. She crept slowly to it and cupped her hands around the insect. She returned to the nest and dropped the butterfly into the swarming mass of ants. The ants overwhelmed the butterfly and devoured the poor thing with their strong jaws.
This went on for a few days before the little Princess became bored of this, so she decided to follow the ants, so she laid down on the grass and observed the ants. She was fascinated at how industriousness the ants were – rushing around collecting food and materials for the nest.
Any approaching invader, like another insect, would bring an organised army out from the nest to confront it. The massed ranks of ants, were like pictures she had seen of Roman armies, they were all in file and marched on the invading insect, united in one solid defensive wall. They did not stop marching and attacked with the ferocity of Genghis Khan’s Mongol army or Barbarian Visigoths ransacking Rome. She had to study all this history of preceding Empires by her over-bearing mother in direct competition and defiance of the King who was grooming his only son to be future King.
“You will be Queen one day daughter, I have seen a prophesy in my sleep,” Queen Alessandra said.
“But I am a girl, and girls don’t become Queens,” the little Princess said.
“You have to be strong, our people need uniting, otherwise we will be crushed by the many different peoples that live over our borders. Your father is happy to invite them into his palace and spoil them with food and wine, but he does not realise that they are planning for the day when they all come together and invade us.”
The little Princess thought of the ants and how any intruders, who were not like them, were destroyed, and how they formed together in a strong army to repel any invaders.
“Stop thinking Stephanie, you are always staring vacantly into emptiness, get out of my sight!” and the little girl ran up the marble staircase to her room.
In her room, she took hold of a glass vessel and peered inside it. There were dozens of ants running around, trying to get out. The glass magnified them and she would stare at them for hours and was fascinated by their appearance. They looked like some ancient Greek warriors with their hard shell-like covering that was like a shield and their long antennae which were like javelins, and their lean bodies that were perfect for fighting and chasing down the enemy.
As Princess Stephanie grew older, she never lost her obsession with ants, observing their working habits, their society, mating habits and survival techniques.
One day, her father the King and her brother, returned home after another one of their feasts where they paid homage to the peoples that were not like them. This time they both smelt of scent that she had never detected before. She waited until they were both asleep and crept into their bedrooms where she slit their throats.
The now sick Queen, poisoned by the King, many did say, was not in any fit state to govern. Therefore, Princess Stephanie became Queen of her kingdom residing over many subjects.
The first thing she did after she was sworn in by the Chief Minister was to change her name to Queen Anthea.
“All fertile young women, who are still to marry and have children, I want rounded up and brought to the palace.”
“Yes Mam,” her chief of staff said.
So all young women under a certain age were brought to the palace, and the Queen stood on her balcony looking at every single women that came in and making notes of the most beautiful and the leanest.
“These are perfect, this is what we need, one of these will produce our next generation of workers and soldiers. Now go and round up all the most strongest and virile of the men so to mate with our chosen lady.”
All the women were locked away in one large room, with many beds, but they were given the best food and waited on for their every whim.
The most beautiful one was chosen and she was made the chief female who would procreate with the most beautiful of the men and she would produce the next generation of workers and soldiers.
“She will be our chief female, we can’t call her a Queen because I am Queen, please bring her in so I can meet her,” the Queen said to her chief of staff.
The young woman came in.
“Please sit, what is your name?”
“Anastasia, my lady,” the beautiful young women said.
“It is similar to mine.”
The young women had piercing dark eyes that were quite mesmerising, the Queen had to look away.
“Please give Anastasia her own room, and everything she needs,” the Queen said to her chief of staff, “you can go now.”
“Thank you my lady,” and Anastasia walked out.
Over the next few years Queen Anthea built her kingdom based on the ant colony she had observed. Everyone lived together in one big city underground, where everyone had a job to do and everyone had a plentiful supply of food, and people lived and socialised in communal chambers. Everyone was happy, and invaders to the city were severely dealt with by a united and strong army.
Anastasia gave birth too many strong workers and soldiers. She too became very popular with the people and often clashed with the Queen over how best to run the Kingdom.
One day, Anastasia convinced the army and the people that Queen Anthea was pernicious to the Kingdom and the survival of the people, so she had her arrested on trumped-up charges. In the court many lies were told and she had the Queen murdered for treason – the charge was that the Queen was getting too-friendly with the people over the border.
Anastasia became Queen and ruled with much ruthlessness. Anyone speaking out against the Queen was rounded up by the soldiers and clubbed to death in front of the watching people.
She ordered her strong army into neighbouring countries and murdered, raped and pillaged. All the loot and power she wanted only for herself and her chosen few. She had a massive castle built, which also housed her army, on top of a mighty hill, far away from her subjects. Her subjects were just left in the city and they had to fend for themselves, and soon they all became very poor and starving.
The workers from the city were still expected to forage for food and plough and plant crops in the fields, but the soldiers would come down randomly and take all the food for themselves, and when the workers tried to complain they were ruthlessly beaten and sometimes killed.
This went on for many, many years. The Queen and her hangers-on became richer and richer, and the workers became poorer and poorer.
Eventually word reached the Queen, that the workers were not happy because they were poor and did not have much food. By this time the Queen, now advanced in her years, softened slightly, and so she appointed a Prime Minister whose job was to keep the workers happy. The Prime Minister appointed a government and each person in the government was responsible for a department, for example: health, education, defence etc.
These were just figureheads who peddled lies and propaganda about how well the Kingdom was doing and that all the workers now lived more prosperous lives under Queen Anastasia than when they lived under Queen Anthea. And that,
“The Kingdom was now a stronger and more secure place to live because the army had dealt with the many different tribes over our borders who worshipped a different God and who wanted to change our way of living”.
The old city was knocked down, and people were moved to cheaply-made homes which soon fell into disrepair. Soon these houses became shanty towns, because people did not have the means and resources to repair their homes.
What Queen Anastasia was not aware of was that a great underground movement was on the rise. It bought the workers together and argued that they should all unite and fight against the brutal regime of the Queen that forced people to live in slums and work like slaves for pittance, barely enough money for them to feed their families, while the Queen and her government, and many hangers-on, were living in luxury. They received massive payments which were taken out of the people’s taxes, while the majority of the citizens were very poor and could not afford decent health or education.
The underground movement, which was led by Gustave Pavlova, spread their message into neighbouring countries which were once ravaged by Queen Anastasia’s army, and soon the movement had many people that were willing to fight and bring down the brutal regime of the Queen.
The two armies met one day on the battlefield and Queen Anastasia’s army was destroyed and all her soldiers were killed. The Queen tried to escape with a few of her loyal subjects but was captured and imprisoned.
Gustave took over power of the Kingdom and he set about making the Kingdom a fairer and compassionate place for all its citizens. Everyone was entitled to free health and education and the workers’ wages were increased and all the slums were knocked down and replaced by new houses. The result was that people lived a better life and were more happy, and more importantly, throughout the Kingdom and bordering countries everyone lived together in peace and harmony.
She walked around the large expanse of garden, before she came to a beautiful butterfly perched on a leaf. She crept slowly to it and cupped her hands around the insect. She returned to the nest and dropped the butterfly into the swarming mass of ants. The ants overwhelmed the butterfly and devoured the poor thing with their strong jaws.
This went on for a few days before the little Princess became bored of this, so she decided to follow the ants, so she laid down on the grass and observed the ants. She was fascinated at how industriousness the ants were – rushing around collecting food and materials for the nest.
Any approaching invader, like another insect, would bring an organised army out from the nest to confront it. The massed ranks of ants, were like pictures she had seen of Roman armies, they were all in file and marched on the invading insect, united in one solid defensive wall. They did not stop marching and attacked with the ferocity of Genghis Khan’s Mongol army or Barbarian Visigoths ransacking Rome. She had to study all this history of preceding Empires by her over-bearing mother in direct competition and defiance of the King who was grooming his only son to be future King.
“You will be Queen one day daughter, I have seen a prophesy in my sleep,” Queen Alessandra said.
“But I am a girl, and girls don’t become Queens,” the little Princess said.
“You have to be strong, our people need uniting, otherwise we will be crushed by the many different peoples that live over our borders. Your father is happy to invite them into his palace and spoil them with food and wine, but he does not realise that they are planning for the day when they all come together and invade us.”
The little Princess thought of the ants and how any intruders, who were not like them, were destroyed, and how they formed together in a strong army to repel any invaders.
“Stop thinking Stephanie, you are always staring vacantly into emptiness, get out of my sight!” and the little girl ran up the marble staircase to her room.
In her room, she took hold of a glass vessel and peered inside it. There were dozens of ants running around, trying to get out. The glass magnified them and she would stare at them for hours and was fascinated by their appearance. They looked like some ancient Greek warriors with their hard shell-like covering that was like a shield and their long antennae which were like javelins, and their lean bodies that were perfect for fighting and chasing down the enemy.
As Princess Stephanie grew older, she never lost her obsession with ants, observing their working habits, their society, mating habits and survival techniques.
One day, her father the King and her brother, returned home after another one of their feasts where they paid homage to the peoples that were not like them. This time they both smelt of scent that she had never detected before. She waited until they were both asleep and crept into their bedrooms where she slit their throats.
The now sick Queen, poisoned by the King, many did say, was not in any fit state to govern. Therefore, Princess Stephanie became Queen of her kingdom residing over many subjects.
The first thing she did after she was sworn in by the Chief Minister was to change her name to Queen Anthea.
“All fertile young women, who are still to marry and have children, I want rounded up and brought to the palace.”
“Yes Mam,” her chief of staff said.
So all young women under a certain age were brought to the palace, and the Queen stood on her balcony looking at every single women that came in and making notes of the most beautiful and the leanest.
“These are perfect, this is what we need, one of these will produce our next generation of workers and soldiers. Now go and round up all the most strongest and virile of the men so to mate with our chosen lady.”
All the women were locked away in one large room, with many beds, but they were given the best food and waited on for their every whim.
The most beautiful one was chosen and she was made the chief female who would procreate with the most beautiful of the men and she would produce the next generation of workers and soldiers.
“She will be our chief female, we can’t call her a Queen because I am Queen, please bring her in so I can meet her,” the Queen said to her chief of staff.
The young woman came in.
“Please sit, what is your name?”
“Anastasia, my lady,” the beautiful young women said.
“It is similar to mine.”
The young women had piercing dark eyes that were quite mesmerising, the Queen had to look away.
“Please give Anastasia her own room, and everything she needs,” the Queen said to her chief of staff, “you can go now.”
“Thank you my lady,” and Anastasia walked out.
Over the next few years Queen Anthea built her kingdom based on the ant colony she had observed. Everyone lived together in one big city underground, where everyone had a job to do and everyone had a plentiful supply of food, and people lived and socialised in communal chambers. Everyone was happy, and invaders to the city were severely dealt with by a united and strong army.
Anastasia gave birth too many strong workers and soldiers. She too became very popular with the people and often clashed with the Queen over how best to run the Kingdom.
One day, Anastasia convinced the army and the people that Queen Anthea was pernicious to the Kingdom and the survival of the people, so she had her arrested on trumped-up charges. In the court many lies were told and she had the Queen murdered for treason – the charge was that the Queen was getting too-friendly with the people over the border.
Anastasia became Queen and ruled with much ruthlessness. Anyone speaking out against the Queen was rounded up by the soldiers and clubbed to death in front of the watching people.
She ordered her strong army into neighbouring countries and murdered, raped and pillaged. All the loot and power she wanted only for herself and her chosen few. She had a massive castle built, which also housed her army, on top of a mighty hill, far away from her subjects. Her subjects were just left in the city and they had to fend for themselves, and soon they all became very poor and starving.
The workers from the city were still expected to forage for food and plough and plant crops in the fields, but the soldiers would come down randomly and take all the food for themselves, and when the workers tried to complain they were ruthlessly beaten and sometimes killed.
This went on for many, many years. The Queen and her hangers-on became richer and richer, and the workers became poorer and poorer.
Eventually word reached the Queen, that the workers were not happy because they were poor and did not have much food. By this time the Queen, now advanced in her years, softened slightly, and so she appointed a Prime Minister whose job was to keep the workers happy. The Prime Minister appointed a government and each person in the government was responsible for a department, for example: health, education, defence etc.
These were just figureheads who peddled lies and propaganda about how well the Kingdom was doing and that all the workers now lived more prosperous lives under Queen Anastasia than when they lived under Queen Anthea. And that,
“The Kingdom was now a stronger and more secure place to live because the army had dealt with the many different tribes over our borders who worshipped a different God and who wanted to change our way of living”.
The old city was knocked down, and people were moved to cheaply-made homes which soon fell into disrepair. Soon these houses became shanty towns, because people did not have the means and resources to repair their homes.
What Queen Anastasia was not aware of was that a great underground movement was on the rise. It bought the workers together and argued that they should all unite and fight against the brutal regime of the Queen that forced people to live in slums and work like slaves for pittance, barely enough money for them to feed their families, while the Queen and her government, and many hangers-on, were living in luxury. They received massive payments which were taken out of the people’s taxes, while the majority of the citizens were very poor and could not afford decent health or education.
The underground movement, which was led by Gustave Pavlova, spread their message into neighbouring countries which were once ravaged by Queen Anastasia’s army, and soon the movement had many people that were willing to fight and bring down the brutal regime of the Queen.
The two armies met one day on the battlefield and Queen Anastasia’s army was destroyed and all her soldiers were killed. The Queen tried to escape with a few of her loyal subjects but was captured and imprisoned.
Gustave took over power of the Kingdom and he set about making the Kingdom a fairer and compassionate place for all its citizens. Everyone was entitled to free health and education and the workers’ wages were increased and all the slums were knocked down and replaced by new houses. The result was that people lived a better life and were more happy, and more importantly, throughout the Kingdom and bordering countries everyone lived together in peace and harmony.
Fantasy: How to Brighten the Night
There was a time, not so long ago, when the night was very dark. There were no stars, planets, or moon to light the night sky. Once the sun went down, people would stay inside unable to venture out; not because they were afraid of the dark; dark is not scary. It was just hard to see, easy to trip and fall, or lose one’s way. There were no streetlights, because there was no electricity. It was dangerous walking around carrying a torch or candle, and lanterns hadn’t been invented. People didn’t have gas or oil to burn. So, once the sun went down, people stayed inside by the fireplace where they burned the wood they had gathered during the day. They would work by the fireplace where it was warm and bright, and they could repair tools, and tell stories late into the night.
In a village by a river that meandered through a beautiful green valley, there lived three families. Each had a house made of mud brick and straw with a roof of thatched grass. In the first house lived Josh and Melissa and their two son’s Justin and his younger brother, Jake. In the second house lived Sam and Sandee and their son Elan. Elan and Jake were very close in age. In the third house lived Jon and Amy and their dog Oscar. Josh, Jon and Sam were brothers, so Justin and Jake were cousins to Elan, and everyone loved Oscar, the dog. Each day the cousins met and walked to school together. After school they played together before going home to do their homework, and on weekends they fished, swam and boated in the river. During he long hot summer, when there was no school, they worked in the garden with their parents planting and caring for the vegetables and flowers. Justin, the oldest of the boys, would go up to the pasture in the foothills above the valley to tend sheep with Oscar. Late in the afternoon, his brother Jake and cousin Elan would join him to help bring the sheep home. When the sun would start to go down, Justin would signal to Oscar with a high pitched whistle to gather the sheep; and, with Justin in front, his brother and cousin in the rear, and Oscar patrolling the flanks, they would march the sheep down the hill and back to their pens where the sheep would spend the night. When the sun finally set, it grew dark and cool even in summer, and you could be sure once the sun had set beyond the western hills, everyone was safe in their houses.
Every fall the boys would return to school, half days, because in the afternoon, they would do their chores, take turns tending the sheep in the hills, and work in the garden, as they prepared for the harvest. Once their chores were done, if the sun still shone, they could play, fish, or boat on the river, weather permitting. The boys spent all their time in the village. No one had thought to leave the valley where there was plenty of everything. Nobody knew what was on the other side of the mountain that sheltered the valley, and where the sun went to rest each day.
As the boys grew older there curiosity prompted them to want to explore the rest of the world. They were curious about meeting new people, and wanted to learn new things. Justin decided that it would be great fun to travel west across the great mountains that stood at the end of their valley. When Justin shared his idea with Jake and Elan, they made a pact to all go together. When they told their parents, their parents were concerned, but knew that independence was part of growing up. Of course the boys promised to travel only during the day because it was much too dark to travel at night.
The boys spent days discussing the preparations for travel. Each was responsible for collecting basic provisions, including a warm blanket, clothes, and flint and iron rock to make fire. They all had containers for water. They weren’t sure how long they’d be gone or how far they would travel. They didn’t know when they would be returning. It took days to gather all the things that they needed. They met and checked each other’s packs to be sure they had everything. Justin carried tools to clear brush and cut wood for shelter and fire. Jake carried a bag of seed for vegetables and berry’s. Elan carried rope. Justin packed salt, pepper and spices, and lamb and yogurt jerky. Jacob was responsible for knives, forks and spoons, and wooden bucket and cups. Elan packed fishing gear, fine line, rods, and hooks. Each had a piece of cloth on which to sleep. Their packs were full and they were ready to go.
They said goodbye to their parents and other friends and began to walk. They followed the path into the pasture where they tended the sheep with Oscar, and up and into the hills until the path ended. On they walked higher and higher as they exited the foothills and entered the mountains. They followed the paths made by the mountain goats and deer. They scrambled over boulders, crossed little streams, and traversed ledges. Up and up they climbed. During the first few days they caught glimpses of their village in the valley with its peaceful river running through it and smoke rising from the chimneys way off in the distance. At night they would find flat ground, gather wood, make a fire, sit around the fire under their blankets and discuss their plans. It was dark, oh, so dark. As they would lie on their backs waiting for sleep, they’d look up, but there were no stars, no moon, and no planets. There was no north star to give them direction, or constellations help mark the seasons, or moon to mark the months. It was just dark. Without light they couldn’t see, at least not beyond the campfire. Without light, the beauty around them disappeared until the morning light would restore it.
“When we get to where we are going, the first thing I’m going to do, is build a house.” Justin said.
“I want to live on the top of the world, with a view of everything around me in all directions.” Said Jake.
“ I want to be able to fish in a great lake so we will have plenty to eat.” Said Elan.
“ I want to be able to plant vegetables so I will have broccoli and green beans and peas to eat with our fish.” Said Justin.
“I want an orchard with apple trees and bee hives so I have honey to dip my apple slices in.” Said Jake.
“I want to have pastures for our goats, and sheep, and cows.” Said Elan.
Travel was slow as they were unable to travel at night, so the boys had lots of time to think and dream. But as they moved higher and higher into the mountains the weather started to change. Autumn became winter and snow began to fall. The boys collected what they could from the forest and streams so they were well stocked for the winter. They decided to build huts for each to stay in during the winter. They worked hard. Justin built his hut out of sticks and mud. Jake built his out of stone. Elan’s hut was an A frame with a fireplace of stone in the middle and a chimney through the roof. Each hut was cozy.
The boys were ready to settle down for the winter. There wasn’t much to do now but wait the winter out. In the Valley where they had lived the winters were mild, with little snow, and the cold was never bitter. In the high country, they expected the winter to be more harsh with bitter cold and lots of snow, and that is exactly how it was.
When the snow began to fall, it fell thick and fast. It wasn’t long before the snow was piled in banks all around them. It threatened to bury their huts, but they kept the doors clear and paths between each house open. At night, even with the bright white snow, it was still dark. One night, in spite the darkness, Justin came out of his house and made a snowball and threw it at Jake’s door to see if he could get him to open his door. Jake opened his door and Justin threw a second snowball that flew wide of Jake and hit Elan’s house. Elan stuck his head out his door and saw the smudge of snow on it.
“Who threw snow at my door?” He shouted.
No one answered. Justin threw a snowball in the direction of Elan’s house, as he was unable to see him in the dark, dark night. Elan luckily ducked, as he couldn’t see the snowball coming, and avoided being hit. Not so for Justin, for the snowball thrown by Jake, caught him in the side of his head. Justin laughed and started making snowballs more snowballs. Meanwhile Jake took the opportunity to throw a snowball in Elan’s direction and hit him on the arm.
“Jake, you’re in big trouble now.” Elan shouted.
Elan and Justin started to fire one snowball after another in Jake’s direction, catching him in crossfire. Snowballs flew everywhere from every direction. The fight went on, not with malice, but with great fun. Snowballs flew right and left and then up. Justin made a giant snowball and threw it high in the air where it was carried by the mountain winds, high above the mountain peaks, high enough to reflect the suns light from the other side of the world, and thereby became the moon. The other boys began to throw their snowballs into the air instead of at each other, and as each snowball caught the mountain winds, they drifted up and up, and began to fill the sky with stars, and planets, and all the celestial bodies. Now with the moon and stars in place, the night sky was brightening. An occasional snowball would drift back to earth creating streak in the sky as it melted. If the boys would be lucky enough to catch a glimpse of the streak of light, they’d make a wish. The boys threw the snowballs into the air all night, and, as they did, a soft glow began to surround them and gave them the ability to see in the dark. They could see each other’s huts and each other, but instead of throwing the snowballs at each other, they continued to fill the sky with stars.
Winter passed and when spring came the boys decided to start out again. They gathered their provisions and left their huts behind. When the sun went down, if the sky were clear, they could see their way well enough to continue their journey. When they made camp at night and lay down to sleep, it was no longer so very dark; and when they looked up, it was into a star-studded sky.
The end.
Bio:
I am a retired physician, former neurologist, who loves to tell stories. I live in Allentown, PA. I am married. I published a short novel called “Loose Ends” in 1988, still obtainable on Amazon.com. My first short story appeared in Being, M. Talarico and Daughter Publications, 1992, called “Things can Always Get Worse.” I had four short stories published, in Raconteur, Susan Carroll Publishing, from 1993-1995. These works included, “The Fate of Dicky Paponovitch”, which was awarded Raconteur of the Month, May 1994. I stopped submitting short stories after 1998 when my real job took over my time. I recently started submitting my stories again. I’ve recently published three short stories at shortbreadstories.co.uk, “Fishing with Nick”, “Dad Stories”, and “Earl’s Lake, Home to the Big Bass”, 2015.
In a village by a river that meandered through a beautiful green valley, there lived three families. Each had a house made of mud brick and straw with a roof of thatched grass. In the first house lived Josh and Melissa and their two son’s Justin and his younger brother, Jake. In the second house lived Sam and Sandee and their son Elan. Elan and Jake were very close in age. In the third house lived Jon and Amy and their dog Oscar. Josh, Jon and Sam were brothers, so Justin and Jake were cousins to Elan, and everyone loved Oscar, the dog. Each day the cousins met and walked to school together. After school they played together before going home to do their homework, and on weekends they fished, swam and boated in the river. During he long hot summer, when there was no school, they worked in the garden with their parents planting and caring for the vegetables and flowers. Justin, the oldest of the boys, would go up to the pasture in the foothills above the valley to tend sheep with Oscar. Late in the afternoon, his brother Jake and cousin Elan would join him to help bring the sheep home. When the sun would start to go down, Justin would signal to Oscar with a high pitched whistle to gather the sheep; and, with Justin in front, his brother and cousin in the rear, and Oscar patrolling the flanks, they would march the sheep down the hill and back to their pens where the sheep would spend the night. When the sun finally set, it grew dark and cool even in summer, and you could be sure once the sun had set beyond the western hills, everyone was safe in their houses.
Every fall the boys would return to school, half days, because in the afternoon, they would do their chores, take turns tending the sheep in the hills, and work in the garden, as they prepared for the harvest. Once their chores were done, if the sun still shone, they could play, fish, or boat on the river, weather permitting. The boys spent all their time in the village. No one had thought to leave the valley where there was plenty of everything. Nobody knew what was on the other side of the mountain that sheltered the valley, and where the sun went to rest each day.
As the boys grew older there curiosity prompted them to want to explore the rest of the world. They were curious about meeting new people, and wanted to learn new things. Justin decided that it would be great fun to travel west across the great mountains that stood at the end of their valley. When Justin shared his idea with Jake and Elan, they made a pact to all go together. When they told their parents, their parents were concerned, but knew that independence was part of growing up. Of course the boys promised to travel only during the day because it was much too dark to travel at night.
The boys spent days discussing the preparations for travel. Each was responsible for collecting basic provisions, including a warm blanket, clothes, and flint and iron rock to make fire. They all had containers for water. They weren’t sure how long they’d be gone or how far they would travel. They didn’t know when they would be returning. It took days to gather all the things that they needed. They met and checked each other’s packs to be sure they had everything. Justin carried tools to clear brush and cut wood for shelter and fire. Jake carried a bag of seed for vegetables and berry’s. Elan carried rope. Justin packed salt, pepper and spices, and lamb and yogurt jerky. Jacob was responsible for knives, forks and spoons, and wooden bucket and cups. Elan packed fishing gear, fine line, rods, and hooks. Each had a piece of cloth on which to sleep. Their packs were full and they were ready to go.
They said goodbye to their parents and other friends and began to walk. They followed the path into the pasture where they tended the sheep with Oscar, and up and into the hills until the path ended. On they walked higher and higher as they exited the foothills and entered the mountains. They followed the paths made by the mountain goats and deer. They scrambled over boulders, crossed little streams, and traversed ledges. Up and up they climbed. During the first few days they caught glimpses of their village in the valley with its peaceful river running through it and smoke rising from the chimneys way off in the distance. At night they would find flat ground, gather wood, make a fire, sit around the fire under their blankets and discuss their plans. It was dark, oh, so dark. As they would lie on their backs waiting for sleep, they’d look up, but there were no stars, no moon, and no planets. There was no north star to give them direction, or constellations help mark the seasons, or moon to mark the months. It was just dark. Without light they couldn’t see, at least not beyond the campfire. Without light, the beauty around them disappeared until the morning light would restore it.
“When we get to where we are going, the first thing I’m going to do, is build a house.” Justin said.
“I want to live on the top of the world, with a view of everything around me in all directions.” Said Jake.
“ I want to be able to fish in a great lake so we will have plenty to eat.” Said Elan.
“ I want to be able to plant vegetables so I will have broccoli and green beans and peas to eat with our fish.” Said Justin.
“I want an orchard with apple trees and bee hives so I have honey to dip my apple slices in.” Said Jake.
“I want to have pastures for our goats, and sheep, and cows.” Said Elan.
Travel was slow as they were unable to travel at night, so the boys had lots of time to think and dream. But as they moved higher and higher into the mountains the weather started to change. Autumn became winter and snow began to fall. The boys collected what they could from the forest and streams so they were well stocked for the winter. They decided to build huts for each to stay in during the winter. They worked hard. Justin built his hut out of sticks and mud. Jake built his out of stone. Elan’s hut was an A frame with a fireplace of stone in the middle and a chimney through the roof. Each hut was cozy.
The boys were ready to settle down for the winter. There wasn’t much to do now but wait the winter out. In the Valley where they had lived the winters were mild, with little snow, and the cold was never bitter. In the high country, they expected the winter to be more harsh with bitter cold and lots of snow, and that is exactly how it was.
When the snow began to fall, it fell thick and fast. It wasn’t long before the snow was piled in banks all around them. It threatened to bury their huts, but they kept the doors clear and paths between each house open. At night, even with the bright white snow, it was still dark. One night, in spite the darkness, Justin came out of his house and made a snowball and threw it at Jake’s door to see if he could get him to open his door. Jake opened his door and Justin threw a second snowball that flew wide of Jake and hit Elan’s house. Elan stuck his head out his door and saw the smudge of snow on it.
“Who threw snow at my door?” He shouted.
No one answered. Justin threw a snowball in the direction of Elan’s house, as he was unable to see him in the dark, dark night. Elan luckily ducked, as he couldn’t see the snowball coming, and avoided being hit. Not so for Justin, for the snowball thrown by Jake, caught him in the side of his head. Justin laughed and started making snowballs more snowballs. Meanwhile Jake took the opportunity to throw a snowball in Elan’s direction and hit him on the arm.
“Jake, you’re in big trouble now.” Elan shouted.
Elan and Justin started to fire one snowball after another in Jake’s direction, catching him in crossfire. Snowballs flew everywhere from every direction. The fight went on, not with malice, but with great fun. Snowballs flew right and left and then up. Justin made a giant snowball and threw it high in the air where it was carried by the mountain winds, high above the mountain peaks, high enough to reflect the suns light from the other side of the world, and thereby became the moon. The other boys began to throw their snowballs into the air instead of at each other, and as each snowball caught the mountain winds, they drifted up and up, and began to fill the sky with stars, and planets, and all the celestial bodies. Now with the moon and stars in place, the night sky was brightening. An occasional snowball would drift back to earth creating streak in the sky as it melted. If the boys would be lucky enough to catch a glimpse of the streak of light, they’d make a wish. The boys threw the snowballs into the air all night, and, as they did, a soft glow began to surround them and gave them the ability to see in the dark. They could see each other’s huts and each other, but instead of throwing the snowballs at each other, they continued to fill the sky with stars.
Winter passed and when spring came the boys decided to start out again. They gathered their provisions and left their huts behind. When the sun went down, if the sky were clear, they could see their way well enough to continue their journey. When they made camp at night and lay down to sleep, it was no longer so very dark; and when they looked up, it was into a star-studded sky.
The end.
Bio:
I am a retired physician, former neurologist, who loves to tell stories. I live in Allentown, PA. I am married. I published a short novel called “Loose Ends” in 1988, still obtainable on Amazon.com. My first short story appeared in Being, M. Talarico and Daughter Publications, 1992, called “Things can Always Get Worse.” I had four short stories published, in Raconteur, Susan Carroll Publishing, from 1993-1995. These works included, “The Fate of Dicky Paponovitch”, which was awarded Raconteur of the Month, May 1994. I stopped submitting short stories after 1998 when my real job took over my time. I recently started submitting my stories again. I’ve recently published three short stories at shortbreadstories.co.uk, “Fishing with Nick”, “Dad Stories”, and “Earl’s Lake, Home to the Big Bass”, 2015.
Fantasy:Two Lovers
Staring at the neck of his wagon mule, holding reigns loosely in each hand, whispering a song he had herd in an inn three nights ago, the merchant rode. And as the merchant rode, the sun’s head slowly ducked behind the crest of a mountain, patiently reeling in its bright orange rays off the valley and over the rocky mountain ridge. Wind stirred in the evening air pushing the merchant’s cheap, dirty, tan cloak behind him and over his cart. This was the merchant’s second love. Solitude. Sweet solitude he would tell himself. He looked forward to the moments everyday. The merchant’s second love caressed him in a soothing flow of thought and melody while his mind traveled to that days sales. He chuckled to him self over his soft singing when he remembered the days last transaction. A young orc, Durak was his name, had purchased a book the merchant had found off of a dead Imperial. The merchant had sold the book assuring the Orc that it would reveal the secrets to battle axe mastery. The fool bought it for nearly four hundred gold. As his mind replayed the transaction the sound of his coin purse seemed to grow louder. The merchant chuckled again and eagerly reached for his coin purse in his satchel. This was the merchants first love. Coin. He pulled out his coin purse and shook it next to his ear. The merchants smile grew wider and his singing was sung louder, as the coins jingled in the bag. He stuffed his hand in the purse, lifting a hand full of coins and let them slide off his palm back into the bag, glittering in the setting sun’s orange rays as they tumbled back into the pouch. The merchant’s two lovers, solitude and coin, caressed the merchant like…well…two lovers. And the merchant was pleased.
A wolf howl.
The merchant lifted his head, perked his ears, and quit his singing so suddenly the shift would have made a man jump. The mule stirred and slowed down. He slid his gold back into his satchel without taking his gaze from the darkness from whence the howl came. Anxiety crept upon him; his heart beats quickened, like little fists trying to break out of his chest cavity. The merchant shut his eyes and began to hum to the melody his mother had sang to him during the days when werewolves prowled the moonlit nights outside of his old homestead. He hummed, and the melody seemed to radiate from the merchant rather than coming directly from his mouth. The music was encasing and all around, and seemed to fog the atmosphere with magic. The merchant reached behind him under the carts tarp and searched for a torch and a bow with his hand. The merchant starred at the blunt of his torch and ignited the damp cloth with a minor spell. He tossed the torch 20 yards away from the wagon, knocked an arrow before the torch touched the ground, and continued his humming as he waited to draw his bow. He waited. Then two pairs of eyes, then another pair, and another pair, reflected in the darkness surrounding the torch light. Condensed clouds of breaths reflected in the orange light from deep, rattling breaths. The merchant then stopped humming, but the song remained, seeming to echo in the air around him. The merchant let two arrows fly in between two pairs of bright reflecting eyes. Two massive figures dashed forward over the torch light, heading toward the wagon. The merchant dropped his bow and pulled two knives out from his belt before a wolf lunged five feet in the air out of the darkness towards the merchant. The merchant arched his back nearly 90 degrees, dodging the lunging wolf. The beast soared over the merchant as he shoved a knife upward into the bulge of the beast’s chest. Another leaped onto the wagons edge just next to the merchants feet. The merchant punted the wolfs head beneath its jaw before the dog could get its back legs on the wagon. Two throwing knives slid down the merchant’s sleeves into his hands. He slung the knives down at two wolves snapping at the mule’s knees, the wolves dropped as the knives severed their spines. Then silence. The merchant stood glancing around his wagon in a defensive stance. He waited, then slowly let his guard down and exhaled a long breath as the echoes of his hum slowly faded in a cold breeze. He jumped off his wagon and examined the wolves. Easily bigger than myself, the merchant thought, pelts could fetch a fair price in Dawnstar. Night was already upon him though and the roads were growing more dangerous, but the merchant ignored his better judgment to retrieve the wolf pelts.
End
My name is Caelan Freeman. I decided to post this story that I wrote for a writing class that I took last semester. Hope y'all enjoy!
A wolf howl.
The merchant lifted his head, perked his ears, and quit his singing so suddenly the shift would have made a man jump. The mule stirred and slowed down. He slid his gold back into his satchel without taking his gaze from the darkness from whence the howl came. Anxiety crept upon him; his heart beats quickened, like little fists trying to break out of his chest cavity. The merchant shut his eyes and began to hum to the melody his mother had sang to him during the days when werewolves prowled the moonlit nights outside of his old homestead. He hummed, and the melody seemed to radiate from the merchant rather than coming directly from his mouth. The music was encasing and all around, and seemed to fog the atmosphere with magic. The merchant reached behind him under the carts tarp and searched for a torch and a bow with his hand. The merchant starred at the blunt of his torch and ignited the damp cloth with a minor spell. He tossed the torch 20 yards away from the wagon, knocked an arrow before the torch touched the ground, and continued his humming as he waited to draw his bow. He waited. Then two pairs of eyes, then another pair, and another pair, reflected in the darkness surrounding the torch light. Condensed clouds of breaths reflected in the orange light from deep, rattling breaths. The merchant then stopped humming, but the song remained, seeming to echo in the air around him. The merchant let two arrows fly in between two pairs of bright reflecting eyes. Two massive figures dashed forward over the torch light, heading toward the wagon. The merchant dropped his bow and pulled two knives out from his belt before a wolf lunged five feet in the air out of the darkness towards the merchant. The merchant arched his back nearly 90 degrees, dodging the lunging wolf. The beast soared over the merchant as he shoved a knife upward into the bulge of the beast’s chest. Another leaped onto the wagons edge just next to the merchants feet. The merchant punted the wolfs head beneath its jaw before the dog could get its back legs on the wagon. Two throwing knives slid down the merchant’s sleeves into his hands. He slung the knives down at two wolves snapping at the mule’s knees, the wolves dropped as the knives severed their spines. Then silence. The merchant stood glancing around his wagon in a defensive stance. He waited, then slowly let his guard down and exhaled a long breath as the echoes of his hum slowly faded in a cold breeze. He jumped off his wagon and examined the wolves. Easily bigger than myself, the merchant thought, pelts could fetch a fair price in Dawnstar. Night was already upon him though and the roads were growing more dangerous, but the merchant ignored his better judgment to retrieve the wolf pelts.
End
My name is Caelan Freeman. I decided to post this story that I wrote for a writing class that I took last semester. Hope y'all enjoy!
Friday, September 16, 2016
CRIME: Bank Robbers
By
Ryan Thomas
The flashing red lights of the
cruiser flickered with stifled intensity. They were mitigated by the earliest
morning light twenty-nine year old Alan Oakley (aka “Oak”) had the great
misfortune of experiencing in his entire life. He was typically a late riser,
but today was very special. Sunshine, cop cars, and a wickedly fine woman
driving that two-toned black and white police cruiser had him irrepressibly
excited about his wonderful plan. Oak had a gun in the back, but he couldn’t
exactly put a bullet in this girl here, not the one tapping almost erotically
on his driver-side window. Not her . . . it was love at first sight, man.
“Morning ¾” Oak’s bald, freckly head
appeared. Once the window descended, he scratched his shiny noggin with a
couple freckly fingers. “¾ Is there any really good reason you should be
pulling me over just now?”
“Would you like to step out the
car?” the officer said.
Ok. Maybe this was a dream. No, he
was stoned. It only felt like a dream.
“What if I told you my mother just
died?”
“Look. I’d say stop acting like such
a whining coward! Exit the car, sir! Do it now . . . or I’ll shove this steal
truncheon up your fanny. Get me, Jackass?”
“What if I told you I loved you?”
The officer swelled with tears,
exactly like he knew she would.
“I’d tell you I don’t believe you.”
She looked away. “And judging from the awful condition of your hooptie, I’d say
you’re either completely broke . . . or just plagued by horrible taste.” She
wiped her tears, loosing joyful drops, doing so with two of the most delicate
white-chocolate fingers he’d had the pleasure of witnessing up close. “Dang it,
I’m not very good at maintaining my composure. I was really doing well, though,
wasn’t I?”
“Babe. You’re awesome.”
“Thanks.”
“Ready to do this?”
The tears dried up. Khali Olsen
sniffled once, then spat on the ground a repulsive splatter of brown tobacco
sauce. She chewed. That’s why he liked the girl. She wasn’t afraid to steal a
cop car on a whim and drive with him to the Bank of America on Encinitas BLVD.
Small town. Small police force. And the girl, a thin little 5’4” French
brunette smiled greater than a pleased chimpanzee. “Ready as Freddy,” Khali
said, between chews. “Let’s go make some God Damn espèces . . . Français for
cash.”
***
His phone rang.
“Hey. Still behind me . . . I see.”
It was her.
“Yeah. You’re a fast driver! I was
all in a tizzy this morning thinking about the job. I’m still working up the
nerve, you know! So . . . wassup? Why aren’t you talking?”
“Cause you’re talking.”
Oak’s brain was preoccupied. What
exactly was he to say once he ripped a twenty-two millimeter from his light
beige khaki shorts? Should he wave it around like a drunken cowboy? Maybe just
start with, “Get on the floor” and follow the command with, “cell phones,
pagers, any points of contact smash them to pieces!” No, he reconsidered the
previous command. He should say, instead, “Throw them in the bag.” Yeah. He has
some 56-gallon black trash bags in the trunk. If everything went like in Doing
The Crime ¾ a non-fiction memoir filled with 346 pages of criminal education ¾
they’d be richer than Danny Ocean in less than thirty-five minutes. No
fatalities!
“After we get this money,” Oak said.
“It’s gonna be just the two of us, babe. Like that Will Smith song.”
“You listen to Will Smith?”
“Hey. Don’t hate! In the years of
old school hip-hop, pretty much every rapper sounded like a cornball. That’s
what made dem joints tight, aight?”
“Aight. Aight foo.” She sounded like
Paris Hilton. “Don’t get all ghetto on me.”
“You’re hilarious.”
“You know what I wanna do,” Khali
said. “I wanna arrest somebody. Let’s go arrest somebody. Some teens. Yeah!”
Khali flipped the red lights on
again. Again, Oak’s heart froze.
“Uh. Babe. It’s daylight. If we just
stick to our plan we can drop these stolen joints off at the Tijuana barbershop
and sip mimosas at half price for a few months. Then maybe we hit Europe. You
can teach me Français. Sound like a plan? Babe?”
The police cruiser swerved across
traffic. An ear-popping left was made at the stoplight. The red lights
vanished, as the stolen vehicle quickly blazed down Highway 101, after loudly
whipping around the street corner. They were just two blocks away from the
bank!
“FUCK,” Oak yelled.
***
“Dude Sam. Sam dude,” Jessie said,
frantically shoving baggies of white girl ¾ commonly known as cocaine ¾ into
every crevice of the Honda Civic. “We’re so fucked!”
“Chill out.” Sam’s eyes stared
ahead, staying in character. “I’m a college student majoring in English. You’re
a teacher. We’re just driving to school.”
“What if?”
“What if . . . what? Just stick to
the basic roles.”
“I’m sorry,” said Jesse. The noon
sun was too much for his eyes. Squinting, he pulled down the sun visor. He
spoke, while nervously peering into the rearview. “I can’t go back to that
mothafuckin’ eight by ten. I’d rather die.”
Khali exited her vehicle ¾ no longer
property of Officer Creeler of the San Diego Sheriff’s department ¾ with a
tobacco chew stained smile. She spat on the ground, laughing with contempt for
common decency. Her laugh was stifled, however, once the AK-47 was removed from
Jesse’s beige trenchcoat.
“Oh snap,” she said. “This is fu ¾”
***
Stalled by the longest red light on
earth, Oak was more nervous than Barry Bonds at the Senate hearing on steroids.
Finally, he saw a long-awaited green. He punched the gas, jetted down Leucadia,
caught the attention of a dozen little kids in a preschool play park that
stared in wonder, sped through a barren four-way stop intersection, traveled
along the coast for a short spell, but then slammed the breaks at a dusty
parking lot. He saw Khali, arms twisted and held behind her back, crying in her
stolen officer’s uniform, while staring down the barrel of an AK-47.
***
“Is there a problem officer?” asked
Sam.
“No problem,” Khali cried, now lying
prostrate on the hard ground. “I’m not really an officer. Okay?”
“Sure you aren’t,” said Jesse,
pushing her head. “And I’m not exactly a bad guy. I just made a few morally
wrong decisions in my life. Like killing people . . . people I don’t like.
Especially nosy people.”
“She’s not nosy,” Oak said. Sam kept
a rifle on Khali. Jesse quickly trained his AK-47 on Oak, who smartly responded
by uncocking his twenty-two millimeter Beretta and then tucking the deadly
weapon as a symbol into his waist. “I’m not nosy either,” Oak explained. “We’ve
got something special in the trunk of that police car that you don’t want to be
involved with. Capisce?”
“Like what?” Sam questioned.
“I don’t think you want to know the
answer.”
Jessie grinned, darkly. “Know what?”
Oak looked at the AK-47 held up to
his nose, then, in a bizarre twist, held to his nuts.
Jessie motioned for Oak to instantly
head over to the police car.
They walked all the way to the
trunk. “Okay,” said Oak, in a desperate sigh. “If you just have to be nosy.”
***
The white twinkle of early morning
sunlight poured into Officer Creeler’s eyes for the first time in four days. He
had been fed, but not bathed, so the sweaty stench of the mouth gag escalated
into his open nostrils. It was fetid. The odor matched the sour brackish taste
in his sweaty mouth.
“Who the hell is that?”
“Don King.” Oak said, laughing
aloud. “For reely reels . . . the luckless sack of human garbage is Officer
Creeler of the SD sheriff’s department. Badge number 275.”
“And just exactly what do you plan
to do today?” asked Jesse.
Oak sensed correctly that he wanted
a piece of the action.
“Today?” Oak grinned.
Jesse nodded, his weapon pushing
into Oak’s crotch. “And if you lie to me . . . you’re going to be taking a vow
of celibacy.”
“I’m down,” Oak said. “Why don’t you
close the trunk?”
***
“So, do you have any plans this
evening?” asked Joan Wilder, practically undressing the bank customer with her
ravenous eyes.
“Yes, I’ll be sharing paella with my
boyfriend,” replied Tom.
“Oh,” Joan whimpered, feeling more
embarrassed and demoralized than she’d felt in quite a long time. She popped a
Xanax, then said, “Next customer!”
The security guard was getting
hungry. Colin heard his stomach growl like an agitated wolverine. He checked
his watch and discovered ¾ fortunately ¾ it was already noon. He nodded to
Joan, passing by the tellers, and hastily continued walking toward the back
area. There was a Celeste pizza and two corndogs in the freezer. He also had a
Walkman with nothing but Johnny Cash hits.
Just as Colin passed, Joan realized
he was actually a stud. Perhaps it was his employment as a security guard that
dimmed his overall attractiveness. Now that she considered the idea, his butt
was comparable to Kevin Sorbo’s. She wouldn’t mind being rescued from her
miserable life by Hercules’ doppelganger. As she daydreamed, a group of four
men wearing black masks came through the front entrance.
They all had guns.
***
“Open up the registers!” yelled Oak.
“I can’t now,” replied Joan.
“They’re automatically locked because of a remotely-operated security system.
When theft protection saw you enter with masks and weapons . . . everything
became permanently sealed.”
“FUCK!” screamed Khali.
Jessie raised his AK-47 to Joan’s
chest. “I’ll blow this babe’s tits to hell!”
Joan was slightly pleased to be
considered a babe. “Look, there’s a backup safe below the counter. If you cut
me in, perhaps I can crack it open for you.”
Sam punched a disgruntled customer ¾
squarely in the back of the head ¾ for his unruly defiance. The customer
finally relinquished his platinum Rolex.
“Wouldn’t the company arrest you for
being a party to robbery?” asked Jessie, incredulously.
He kicked a crawling customer to
suppress an escape attempt.
“They can’t hear anything I’m saying
on camera,” replied Joan.
Passing beyond the pneumatic doors,
a new customer wearing grey sweatpants and a loud pair of flip-flops took in
the sight of a robbery in progress. He was shirtless ¾ continuing toward the
frightened bank tellers ¾ despite having seen the warning sign that enterers
not wearing a T-shirt would be refused service. His skin was deeply tanned to
the bold color of a swarthy Israeli. Joan was pretty well aroused.
“Get the fuck on the ground!” Oak
screamed at him.
“Alan?” he said, as if he knew him.
“Alan Oakley?”
Oak held a nonplussed look, concealed
by the nylon mask, as he realized Jason Brent from Ada Harris Elementary had
just recognized him.
“Alan Oakley,” Joan repeated,
knowingly. “That’s an unusual name.”
Oak’s heart pounded like a war drum.
The scratchy face mask was making him irritable. He desperately wanted to
remove it. Despite the air conditioning, a deluge of sweat came through his
facial pores. He felt plenty more of the nasty exudate of perspiration inside
of his socks. They were inundated.
“Cut me in,” urged Joan, “And I’ll forget
Alan Oakley’s peculiar name.”
***
They didn’t ask for non-sequential
bills. They also never specified if they wanted fives, tens, twenties, or
hundreds, so Joan filled up the garbage bags without worrying about these
complications. According to the plan, the amateurish bank robbers would leave a
trash bag inside of her trunk. Having given up her car key, she hoped they
wouldn’t add grand theft auto to their crime spree.
“That’s all if it,” said Joan,
exhaustedly.
She lifted the ponderous 56-gallon
garbage liner onto the counter.
“Remember, I know one of your
names.”
Oak nodded, evincing his
comprehension and honorable intentions, while gathering the last trash bag. He
was en route to the front door, nearly there, in fact, when Colin raised his weapon
and ordered him to “Freeze!”
“FUCK!” Oak screamed.
Khali returned into the Bank of
America. She wondered what precisely was taking Alan so long. “What’s the hold
up?” she joked, smiling, but then she caught the threatening sight of a
nine-millimeter semi-automatic pistol skillfully trained upon her by the
heretofore unseen security guard. She finished, “Wow, I never saw that one
coming! Je suis surpris!”
“If you want me to let you two go,”
said Colin, entering the main area, “You’re going to have to cut me in on the
action.”
“You’ve got to be joking,” Oak said,
rolling his eyes.
He straightened out the nylon mask.
This slightly improved his vision.
“Don’t forget my percentage,” Joan
insisted, nervously.
“Ditto for me,” said Jason, hands
interlocking behind his head. He stared excitedly at Oakley from the smoothly
waxed and polished floor. “I want my cut!”
“I’m also gonna get a share,” urged
Colin, brandishing the weapon and waving it between Khali and Oak. “N’est ce
pas?”
“Sure,” Oak said, sharing a nod of
approval. “We got enough for everybody.”
He wasn’t positive of the fact,
though.
Joan and Jason, however, recognized
the name and could report correct information to the authorities. He’d have to
follow through on their portions of the score. The security guard didn’t
actually know anything, so it wasn’t truly necessary to include him. For now,
Oak would just have to pretend. The logistics were smoothly running through his
head. As agreed upon, he’d leave Joan a trash bag in her maroon ‘92 Corolla’s
trunk, which she and Jason would split. Next hop into his hooptie, which had
two bags of cash, and stealthily abscond with his sizeable take. Then it was
off to Mexico! Jessie and Sam were no doubt already halfway down to Tijuana by
now.
“Drop your weapons!” said Officer
Creeler, bursting through the pneumatic doors with an infuriated look on his
sweaty face.
“Get on the ground!” yelled another
officer, as two more entered the premises.
Khali lifted her nylon mask. “That’s
right, Alan Oakley. You’re busted!”
“What?” Oak was shocked. “Babe?”
“She’s not your babe,” replied
Officer Creeler. “Her name is Susan Whitaker. She’s an undercover agent of the
Encinitas Sherriff’s Department. Banking division. Now you and your two buddies
sitting in my stolen cruiser are going to prison.”
Oak briefly thought of shooting
himself, but decided prison would be an okay place to lay low for a little
while. He was heartbroken. Khali was the hottest babe that had ever pretended
to like him. He wasn’t even a genuine bank robber. She enjoyed his bank robbery
story at Mr. Peabody’s Bar and Grill so much, he never bothered to admit that
he’d never done so before. He was just trying to impress a perfect ten. Now
he’d have to win over hot chicks with his insane prison stories . . .
CRIME: The Wrong Murder
By
Chris Bedell
I sat down at the dining table in my
apartment, chugging down some coffee while my husband Julian flipped through
the newspaper.
“So have you had any nibbles on the
apartment you’re trying to sell?” I asked.
His attention remained focused on
the newspaper. “No. I’m not sure anything will happen with that place.”
I furrowed an eyebrow. “You know,
you could at least look up at me.”
He lifted his gaze off the table.
“I’m sorry! Would you like to talk about the weather?”
“I can’t keep doing this.” I
finished the rest of my coffee a moment later. I got up and put the mug in the
sink.
He cackled. The sound of his voice
pierced the air. “You and me both.”
I folded my arms together, pressing
them against my chest. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing! It wasn’t important.”
My eyes widened. “If you have
something to say, you should just say it.”
“What’s the point?” Julian asked.
“It’s not like you would listen to me.”
I pursed my lips. “Is this because I
didn’t go to the store yesterday and get the milk?”
Julian remained silent.
“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t get the
milk, but I was busy with the foundation yesterday,” I continued. “Besides, you
know I like cream in my coffee, not milk.”
“Whatever you say. It’s not like you
ever had to work a day in your life. You’re nothing but a trust fund brat.” He
shoved the last piece of toast into his mouth.
A vein came to surface on my head,
almost popping. “In case you’ve forgotten, the foundation does real work. I
can’t even begin to count the number of battered women we’ve helped. And as for
the second thing, you don’t seem to mind the benefits of my wealth.”
“Can you blame me? No offense, but
you have no idea what it’s like to be a realtor.”
I sniggered. “You know what I think?
I think you’re jealous you weren’t born into a wealthy family and you expect
everyone else to have a hard life just because you did.”
“I don’t have time for this.” Julian
got up, grabbing his briefcase. He rushed to the front door without another
word.
The door slammed, echoing behind
him.
Julian wouldn’t be winning husband
of the year anytime soon. He could have gone to the store himself if he wanted.
It was kind of aggravating he always
expected me to buy groceries. This wasn’t the 1950’s. I didn’t have to follow
his every command. He could say frog all he wanted, but I wouldn’t jump.
I guess we shouldn’t have gotten
married because we didn’t have anything better going on in our lives…
Oh well.
At least I could leave him anytime I
wanted. It was one of the benefits of making him sign a prenup. It was genius.
I didn’t go to the foundation today
since it was Wednesday, which meant I had the day off.
A ringing sound pierced the air. I
cocked my head, realizing it was the phone.
“Hello. Whom may I ask is there?” I
said, turning up the volume on the phone since it was always impossible to
hear. It was one of the problems of having an old phone.
“I’m Chelsea. Is Julian there?”
I sat back down at the breakfast
table. “No. This is his wife Rene. He went to work already. If you give me a
name and number, I’d be happy to take a message.”
“Never mind. I’ll try him later.
Sorry to bother you.”
The other end of the line went dead.
Whatever! I didn’t have time to debate the rudeness of the woman’s behavior.
I put the phone back in the cradle
before searching one of the kitchen drawers, attempting to find my iPhone
charger. Unfortunately for me, something else popped out at me. I grabbed a
piece of paper from the drawer. My eyes scanned it, realizing it was a life
insurance policy, which was dated one month ago. The paper had Julian’s and
mine’s signature, which was odd because I never recalled signing the piece of
paper. He must have forged my signature. There was no doubt about it.
My heart thumped inside my chest,
getting louder with each passing minute. It didn’t make any sense. There was
no reason for Julian to take a life insurance policy out on me. We were both
healthy and in our late twenties.
The woman on the phone earlier in
the day wasn’t one of Julian’s business acquaintances.
She was his lover. He must have been
having an affair.
Julian was going to kill me and take
the money from the life insurance policy and run off with his mistress. It was
the only logical explanation.
Staying ahead of Julian was my only
option if I wanted to live…
I met my friend Jessica at Starbucks
later in the day. There was no point in breaking our plans just because I found
out my husband wanted to kill me.
She flashed a smile. “So what’s new
with you Rene?”
I sipped my Frappuccino. “I think
Julian is going to kill me.”
Her eyebrows made half circles above
her eyes. “Okay, then…”
“I’m serious,” I said. “A woman
called the apartment earlier and it wasn’t anyone from his family or a
coworker. And I also discovered he took a life insurance policy out on me and
forged my signature on the document.”
“Yeah, I guess I can see how that
might not look good.”
I pushed my elbows up the table.
“This isn’t a joke. I’m serious.”
“Can you go to the police?” She
brushed her blazer, dusting it off.
I shouldn’t have been surprised.
Jessica was always one to be a perfectionist.
I shook my head at her. “No. I can’t
go to the police on a hunch. They’ll have me committed.”
She swallowed the lump in her
throat. “Well you have proof he forged your signature. That’s something.”
“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” I
gulped down some more of my beverage even if there weren’t enough Starbucks
products in the world to calm me down.
Jessica leaned in a little while she
started to whisper. “You aren’t afraid for your safety, are you?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t
know. Maybe. He has been a little resentful lately. But I could be overacting.
Just because he’s cheating on me and took out a life insurance policy doesn’t
mean he’s going to kill me.”
She twirled a strand of her hair.
“Unless he’s going to leave you for his mistress.”
I shot her a dirty look. “This isn’t
funny Jessica. I know he’s cheating on me.”
Laughter fell from her mouth. “You
could always use his plan against him and frame him for your murder.”
I returned home hours later,
discovering a thick layer of black cloaked my apartment. My eyes shifted
towards the dining table while the illuminating candlelight stood out to me.
The lights flicked on.
“Surprise!”
I clapped my hand over my mouth,
realizing it wasn’t just a candle on the dining table. There were also two
plates of food and a bottle of wine.
My pupils dilated, coming to the
surface of my eyelids. “What the hell is going on?”
He forced a polite expression. “I
wanted to make things up to you. I know I’ve been a jerk. And you deserve
better. But just so you know you, I really am sorry; even if you don’t believe
me.”
I bit my lip. “I don’t know what to
say.”
“Say yes.”
I crossed my arms. “To what exactly?
It doesn’t require a big leap of faith to eat a meal together.”
A smirk formed on his mouth. “No,
you’re mistaken. I have more than dinner planned. I want to go to the lake
house this weekend and reconnect.”
My attention returned to the food
because I could only begin to wonder if he poisoned the meal.
I took a cue from his playbook,
faking a grin. “Sure. I’d like that.”
“Good. You have no idea how happy
you’ve made me.”
I ate the meal with him. Although
I’d be lying if I said I weren’t having heart palpitations the entire evening…
Friday came in no time.
Julian and I were en route to the
lake house while each landscape molded into the next. The collage of red,
orange, yellow, and brown leaves screamed out at me because there was nothing
like the crisp scent of fall in the air.
I went through his duffle bag while
he took a shower when we arrived at the lake house. For some reason, I couldn’t
shake the burning sensation from my stomach that something was wrong.
My breathing picked up, getting
louder with each passing second. He had a gun in his duffle bag.
A female phone call, a life
insurance policy, and a gun? If wasn’t clear before, it was clear now. He was
going to kill me.
The bathroom door burst open while I
continued holding the gun.
“The shower was refreshing. It was
too bad you didn’t join me.” He titled his head in my direction. “You went
through my stuff?”
I waived the gun at him. “Why do you
have this?”
He forced a gulp of air into his
lungs. “Look, I can explain. It’s not what it looks like.”
“I know about Chelsea and the life
insurance policy. You don’t want to be here to work on our marriage. You want
to kill me.”
“Give it back!” He slashed over to
me, trying to grab the gun.
I gripped the gun, refusing to let
go. “Admit it! You never loved me. You just like my money.”
“You don’t know what the hell you’re
talking about.” He pulled harder, digging his feet into the carpet.
I ripped the gun away from him in
one swift motion before placing my hands on the trigger. “Step any closer and
I’ll blow your brains out.”
“You don’t want to do this. Just
give it back and we can talk about things.” He lunged forward.
BAM! BAM! I pulled the trigger
without any hesitation.
“What have you done?” Julian made a
thumping sound when he landed on the floor.
“The first smart thing since I met
you,” I said, keeping my fingers on the trigger.
Blood oozed out of his chest without
any indication of stopping. He took his hand to the spot, staining his fingers
red. “You’re right. I cheated on you. But what you don’t know was I wasn’t
going to kill you! I got the life insurance policy to prove to my commitment to
you. I broke up with Chelsea after she gave me an ultimatum and I chose you,
but she didn’t take it well.”
“Then why do you have the gun?”
He choked on a gasp of air. “I was
going to meet up with Chelsea after you went to bed. I planned on killing her.”
Tears came to my eyes, rolling down
my face a moment later. “Oh. I didn’t realize that…”
The blood vanished from his cheeks,
turning them pale. “Of course you didn’t.”
I wasn’t going to be by his side on
the floor while he was dying even if I shed a few tears. Julian could call his
mistress if he needed deathbed support. He made a fool of me and got what he
deserved.
I grabbed my iPhone from my jacket
pocket. “Hi Jessica, it’s me. I need your help. There’s been an accident…”
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