Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Jendon the Troll- Dark Fantasy Tuesday


Jendon the Troll



Jendon they call him
The Troll from the bog
Banished to roam man's world
in the storms and the fog

His yellow eyes flicker
Greed in their depths
One he won't steal from
There's few of left

Traveling merchant
Gypsy cart and gray horse
Powerful potions he makes
just don't ask the source

Huge green fists
Ready to strike
He hides by the day
and lurks through the night

Peddling his wares
Potions, spirits, charms
Trading for bone dust
While memories he farms

Eat his food
Drink his liqueur
and in your life
You've never been sicker

Bewitched by magic
Dreams unprotected
Secrets revealed
Weaknesses detected

The sly salesman
Clever merchant
Nightmarish barker
Kin of the serpent

Steal you blind
in more way than one
Ruing your fate
Before all's said and done

Nothing but trouble
To no one loyal
Yet it if can be earned
it's value is double

Beware of Jendon
of playing fates card
To cross this one
you'd better be hard


Start the adventure:

From the Beginning

During the Aftermath









"This is Safe Haven Refugee Camp. Can anyone hear me?
Hello? Is anyone out there?"

The Survivors
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Sunday, August 28, 2011

Story Sunday- Paranoia


Danger is everywhere.

My paranoia knows no boundaries of normal or over the line. Everything is almost lethal.

My flame retardant sheets threaten to strangle me as the brain melting waves of my alarm clock jar me from sleep. The shock makes my heart race, which might bring on a stroke, and my fingers are threatened by splinters as I brush the end table to silence the potentially ear shattering noise.

My bare feet are swallowed by soft house shoes made in a country known for adding lead to their products and the ultra violet rays from my reading lamp try to pierce me with skin cancer as I head for the bathroom.

The water in my shower may burn me if I stay in too long and I can feel the unfiltered chemicals sinking into my bloodstream. Without knowing if I may develop an allergic reaction to the material, I dry and dress, eyeing the damp floor warily.

The steps leer at me, warning of broken bones and I hold tightly to the rail, risking yet more splinters while I move to the most unprotected room of my rickety home.

Fixing breakfast almost comes with severed fingers and burning alive and as I eat, I risk choking on my eggs and toast. The juice has pulp, doubling the danger, and I read the paper carefully, wincing at all the paper cuts I might get.

The buttons on my coat try to snatch me bald and the umbrella in my grip smiles slyly as I step out into the wilderness. The dry and safe looking sidewalk must be a trap and I walk through the razor sharp blades of grass, trying not to think about all the germs in the dirt that I will have to scrub from my shoes later.

The air I breathe is poison, the sun shines down another dose of potentially lethal cancer, and the noises of the passing traffic and voices of the people weaken my already wounded ears. 

I walk slowly, with an eye on the cloudless sky that could drench me if my umbrella fails, exposing me to pneumonia or a sore throat.

I wait for my ride with strangers who might be dangerous, poor at the very least, and I try to hide under the scratchy cloth of my coat, inhaling of lead-based products to avoid making eye contact that might provoke them into attacking. 

The bus could have hit me as it stopped and the metal stairs grab at the hem of my jeans as I get on. The hard seats are waiting to impale me when the driver slams on the brakes too hard and I cringe from all the germs I am being exposed to as I sit. The window looks like it might shatter at any wrong turn and the potentially burning heat blowing in my face surely contains harmful chemicals, as everything leaks into the air I breathe. 

On the ride, I escaped any number of horrible fates, like rape, murder, and sitting in gum. I may have missed my stop and gotten off in the wrong place or even been decapitated in a fiery bus/car accident. On another day, I may be followed as I exit, and the shiny, metal stairs wink at me knowingly.

The crosswalk wants to change while I’m in the middle of the street so I can be run down by a driver busy texting and I can feel the oil from passing cars making the road in front of me slicker, so I will fall and break a hip or a nail.

The tall, barely maintained office buildings start to crumble as I pass, I can feel it, and the revolving glass door cannot decide if it wants to wound me or trap me inside until I suffocate. It settles for trying to crush me and I step quickly out of the way as the door I have come for finally is in sight.

Before I can get inside the office, dozens of people threaten to knock me down where I could break another hip and the chime over the knob weakens as I watch, wanting to fall and split my head open. The welcome mat threatens to trip me and the loud slam of the door makes me wince as it tries to deafen me.

The receptionist looks up, nods at me, then sniffs indelicately. I avoid her possibly contagious plague and head for the back room, my sanctuary. 

I swipe my card through the machine designed to give me radiation sickness and the walls of the dimly lit hall come alive and taunt me with closing in until I cannot get enough oxygen into my lungs. The shriek of the admittance buzzer makes me flinch and I slide into the dark room with a sigh of relief. 
I am safe here.

I stride confidently now, the plastic desk waiting for me, and I sit in the cushy chair with a smile, reaching for the button. Now I can work. I pick up the laminated file with no fear of paper cuts.
"Please send in my first patient." 
"Yes, Doctor." I open the file to remind myself what mental defect this nut-job had. Obsessive, compulsive paranoia. No problem. That was right up my alley.
This story is in the flash fiction collection, Twists & Turns.







"This is Safe Haven Refugee Camp. Can anyone hear me?
Hello? Is anyone out there?"

The Survivors
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Sunday, August 21, 2011

New, unpublished Short Story- The Meeting


"Tomorrow is Halloween." 

The Sergeant's grave words instantly brought quiet to the meeting under the Big Rock. They had come together for the Plan, dozens of species which couldn't stand even the sight of each other, here to work together on a common goal.

"Some of us will not return from this mission. Those not back come sunset tomorrow will be honored for their noble sacrifice."

 The huge Troll looked around the den, his flickering yellow eyes sweeping the gathered warriors. "They say we do not exist. We will show them otherwise. We will stop them from destroying our very lives!"

There were rumbles of agreement from the small herd of Cyclopses, all that remained in the entire world now, but the Unicorns voiced a unanimous feeling.

"They don't know that that every time they tell a child we don't exist, it wound us, slowly kills us. They are ignorant."

The boulder above trembled with the raised voices, most against the horned horses and the Troll slammed his club against the earth, making it shudder. The dirt screamed in protest and silence fell.

"It doesn't matter. They are evil. Nature's soul has been ripped out and used for their comforts! They have earned this for hurting the Mother!"

The thunderous agreement came from even the pale symbols of purity behind her and the Unicorn bowed her head in acceptance.

"Come dawn, we will be by your side." The Troll's voice was almost kind in response but there was steel in the words. "We do not do this lightly. We have let them almost wipe us from existence before joining Nature's army." 

The lean Cyclops stamped his paw in agreement. "Surely this will make them understand." 

The Troll shrugged, not meeting his fellow mythical creature's eyes. "And maybe a halloween miracle will save us all. Until then, I fight!"

The Big Rock shook again with angry voices and the birds in the nearby roots clucked in satisfaction. Nature would be happy with how the recruiting was going this time. 

Humans had finally done enough damage that even the most peaceful of life forms were adding their strength to the fight. With the Unicorns now on board, more of the most elusive creatures would too. Like the Dragons. 

Small battles were already taking place across the planet, sharks a common soldier, but for the most part, humans still had no idea that war had been declared by The Mother. They simply refused to accept the environment as a living, thinking being and that was their mistake. It would also be their ultimate downfall, as Nature had no mercy left to give. 

Her first blows, Katrina and the Indian Ocean Tsunami, were felt worldwide but the worst was yet to come. Mother Nature had reached her limit and humans had to go. Or she would.


Dedicated to all the 'life forms' man has hurt, killed, destroyed completely, changed irrevocably. I hope someday we'll actually deserve to share this planet with you.

Would you like to check out some more of my stories?







"This is Safe Haven Refugee Camp. Can anyone hear me?
Hello? Is anyone out there?"

The Survivors
*Free on all retailers