The Monster Hunter (Original Short)

Kaine sat in the bowels of the boat, feeling the ocean sway him back and forth, like a mother comforting a child. This would be the first hunt, the one that opens the doors for him, a nobody orphan. Those doors would lead to money, success, and eventually, revenge. Darkness helped the man think, plot, and take inventory of what he needed to do.

It had been a long journey, starting when he was only 6. His father, a kind and caring man, took him camping in the mountains of Tibet. The point was to spend time with his son, but at the same time try to get a glance at the creature known as the Yeti. Little did his father know that he'd found the creature, but the creature didn't approve of their presence. That night the creature came to their tent, ripping it open and attacking them both. Kaine's father fought, hiding his son behind him, but the creature still managed to swipe at the boy, knocking him unconscious. The last thing Kaine saw was the thing ripping his father to shreds and walking away, into the furious snow, with the remains.

He was found a week later, covered in frozen blood, wandering through the forest, unable to speak. There was a distinct wound across the side of his head: Four claw marks, three of them extending onto his cheek. His mother died during childbirth, his father's remains missing, Kaine found his way into the systems of orphanages. Years of foster homes and every sort of correctional institute for youths did nothing but feed the anger that Kaine felt. Catholic lore helped build his ambition and drive, bullies and abusive parents helped build his toughness and abilities to fight. Humanity was a luxury he could afford only in the smallest of amounts.

Night came, but so did his destination, The Loch. His first hunt was the Loch Ness Monster, and the head of every major professor that claimed that cryptozoology was a farce. The knock on the flimsy door nearly knocked it off its hinges, but the intent was clear: it was time to get to the hunt. Kaine was used to the cold, so he didn't put his coat on, he was also used to the icy rain beating down on his boat. This brought more than a couple of stares from the tiny crew he'd brought along, but he ignored them all, concentrating on the lockbox that sat in the middle of the open deck.

Off the back of the tugboat protruded a giant crane, a thick chain running through it, and a menacing hook at the end of that. The murky water bucked and rolled the boat, making the metal dance and sing with every other wave, it sounded almost like a song to Kaine as he knelt down at the long box. The key to it came from under his shirt and he opened all the locks, flinging open the lid. A collective gasp came from the tiny crew as they saw the contents: A man with chains around his waist, wrists, and ankles with a gag in his mouth. Murmurs were made static by the rain, then drowned out by Kaine's own voice.

"Your sacrifice will forever be appreciated and marked down by the men that appreciate science, instead of religion." Kaine had built his body to be strong and rigid with muscle, so picking the man up from the box, even as he squirmed and kicked, was an easy task. The chained man was dragged to the back of the boat, just under the swaying hook, which Kaine grabbed and brought down. It was only then that the crew began to object, questioning what was going on, "Hold on there, chief! We signed on for a hunt, not no murder!"

Kaine turned to face the crew, letting his amber eyes convey his displeasure of being interrupted before he spoke. He knew that he looked scary, head to toe in leather, a giant handgun hanging from his belt on his right, a huge knife on his left, and another knife on the small of his back. "You signed up for a hunt. Either you do what you're told, or you don't get paid. That's the end of it." The statement cowed them, but only temporarily, "And how is using a man as live bait hunting?" For some reason the question brought a chuckle from Kaine, his hand still on the chained man.

Kaine turned back to the crew, waving his hand in a grand gesture as he explained, "You see, my good men, the creature of the Loch was banished here by a Catholic monk, vowing and cursing the creature to do no harm to any child of God. This man here, comes from a long line of Atheists, wasn't even baptized." The smile and the gesture faded from Kaine's face, "And he's been sentenced to death for crimes that I don't really care about. And in lieu of waiting decades and pushing through appeal, after appeal, the good government has decided to donate this man to our cause."

The crew still didn't budge on their position, closing around Kaine and the chained man, "But why do we gotta use him as live bait, Boss? He'll be suffering something terrible!" Another smile graced the leader's face, distorting the scars on his cheek, "Who said he'd be live bait?" Quicker than any of the men could react Kaine drove one of the sharpened spikes of the hook through the chained man's chest; then pushed him overboard, into the icy water. The chain clinked and clinked as more was drawn out, the body weighted down with the chains, heading for the bottom.

Shocked was a delicate phrase for the look upon the crew's faces. It soon gave way to anger, then before they could decide to rush the man in leather, they all stared down the barrel of the giant handgun. Hesitation saved their lives. "Just do as your told and you'll all be very, very rich." It took a moment, but they all accepted their responsibilities. The men left him alone and Kaine took a seat on top of the canopy, staring down at the black water, waiting for a sign. Night was already closing it's dark fingers around the day and the stars began to shine.

Heavy rain gave way to a light drizzle, the bucking Loch became almost placid, and hours seemed to be grinding by. Kaine knew he hadn't made a mistake with the bait, but perhaps the location was a bit off. Calculations walked through his head, a slower pace than what he was used to, as every bit of information was checked and checked, again. That's when the first sign came. The back of the boat dipped, the chain pulling taut against the frame of the crane. The entire crew froze. Kaine waited with a wicked smile.

The boat dipped again, the chain rattling loudly, orders were shouted, the spotlights at the back of the boat were flipped on, the still night was alive with noise and movement. Kaine hopped down onto the deck, giving his own orders, and soon the chain began to be brought up. The boat creaked and moaned with the stress that was being caused by whatever was at the end of the chain, the engines running the winch complained. More and more of the chain came up, closer and closer his prize became. Kaine's voice was lost in the noise, but he shouted for them to pull, regardless.

All at once the world went still, just for a moment, then they were all plunged back into violence and maelstrom. The giant head of the creature broke the surface of the water, spraying the already drenched crew. It looked like a giant snake, the mouth open and threatening, lined with dagger-like teeth. An otherworldly shriek made several men cover their ears, shielding themselves from the piercing sound. The neck seemed impossibly long, but soon the body broke the surface, too. Deep green skin, white teeth, and yellow eyes, the trademarks of a living dinosaur. The creature fought and shook its head, trying to get the hook that was through its bottom jaw out. Kaine smiled so hard his face ached, then whispered to no one, "I knew it."

This Isn't The End (Original Short)

He didn't remember the shell exploding. Didn't feel the explosion take his arm and legs below the knee. He didn't remember the trip to the hospital. He did remember the ride, the cold beach, the sounds of the machine guns like drums in the air.

He remembered his rifle kicking in his hands, the clip's 'Ping' as it flew out before his eyes, telling him he'd spent that one dry. He didn't know if he'd hit anything or anyone, but he was trying. The training they gave him only took him so far and the fear was heavy in his veins, fueling him to run through the foamy surf turning more and more red with each passing moment. The giant steel crosses on the beach meant to overturn tanks provided him with minimal cover from the enemies heavy fire blanketing the beach. He adjusted his helmet to take a look at how far he was from the bunkers that had been created from the shells falling periodically on the black sand. He was far and his uniform was heavy from the water he had to wade through. Although he was grateful for the opportunity, most of his squad had been hit heavy and the back of the transport was red with their remains.

With the decision fresh and pulsing in his mind he ignored the steel behind him's constant ringing from rounds and ran, towards his captain and the remainder of his squad. The leather strap under his chin bit and chaffed his skin, but he ignored it. Bullets flew through the air and at him, some bright orange, like lethal fireflies screaming at speeds too fast for him to comprehend. His boot caught something and he fell face first, tasting the black sand mixed with blood and salt water. He looked down at what could've tripped him up. What he saw would forever change him: Another soldier, ripped open, his entrails spilled. Thick, red blood ran down the beach towards the ocean. The man was no older than 18, the age of his brother, but where life should have been in those baby blue was nothing but pale death. The boy's skin was now pale and lacked pigment, his eyes were sunken and mouth hung open. Eyes stared at nothing, through the man that had tripped on his body, and into the sky and beyond.

Still shaking from the shock he stood up and ran again, trying to make it to the rest of his squad. That's when the shell hit. Percussive and heavy, right next to him. There was a moment of silence and clarity as he waited for what he knew was the next thing to come. Then it did. He was blinded and deafened. He knew pain should have ran through his body and driven insane by the intensity of it. But it never came. Nothing came. Nothing at all. Blackness and silence. Then his eyes opened. And hovering before his face was a blonde beauty with a big smile and gorgeous blue eyes. He could barely feel the gauze that was keeping him together. Then she noticed his eyes had opened and gave him a beaming smile, "Hi, there, my name is Nurse Nightingale. Don't worry, I'll take good care of you."

An Immortals Tale: Part 4

The Man in the Black Suit
Part 4
"This world is old and so am I"

The wall between the three kingdoms had been breached, artifacts that shouldn't be in the hands of amateurs were, and the devils Bible was here. This was a situation that was bleak at best. So Jon sat in his chair in the middle of his apartment, amongst his books, thinking on the past, trying to remember the last time this sort of thing happened.

Like an encyclopedia he ran through all his encounters in the order they happened, cataloguing anew all the information and events from his past. But nothing connected thoroughly, just bits and pieces, faces and names, parts of Scripture. The farther he went back the harder it was to find anything of relevance. Three days passed as he sat, the world outside moving as usual, the thousands of people unaware of the dangers that possibly lurked in the shadows with plans of....That was it. Jon remembered.

It was right before King Arthur took power in England. Somewhere around 470 A.D. It had been a harsh winter, the snow had killed many and many more sick, England was in dismay and seeking salvation. Twelve men rode horses a few miles outside of London, the countryside still cold although the cities had begun to warm. The night was cold, but it wasn't biting, and the moon hung full overhead.Heavy brown burlap robes cloaked ten of the men and the other two wore peasents clothing. One was young and had blonde hair, the other a man in his thirties with close cropped brown hair and grey eyes. They rode at the front of the two columned train of men and beast.

The young blonde spoke with curiosity and wonder, "Father Jon? How am I to save England?" Jon smiled at the boy and sighed deeply, preparing an explanation. "Well, young ward, there's a sword in an anvil atop a stone, ran through like a Knight ill suited at his job." He smiled and the blonde boy laughed a little, then Jon further explained, "The local folk and even some of the royal court believe that the bearer of that sword is the one and true King of England, chosen by God, himself. And you, my boy, are going to retrieve that sword." The young lad thought a moment then turned back to the Father. "But Father you didn't answer my question."

Jon laughed out loud and hard, "You are a clever boy, aren't you?" The boy beamed with pride. "Okay, okay. Like me, young ward, you've been in the care of the church and we have raised you with the love of God in your heart. With that sword in your hands and a crown upon your head you will help restore faith in God back into the people of this land. That's how, my boy." The ward sat contemplative upon his horse. Jon smiled and nodded, having sated the boys curiosity for now. But before the silence could last the boy asked another question. "Father Jon. Does heaven really exist and if it does...will I have a name there?" Jon expressed his appreciation for the question. He looked back at the ten men behind them, the only visible under the heavy burlap was a silver cross that reflected the moonlight. Then he turned back to the boy. "Yes it does. And though we cannot see it we live in Eden every day. God is all around us and so is the eternal heaven that he lives in. And you have a name, my boy. Your name is Arthur." Young Arthur chuckled and stifled his laughter, checking that the monks behind him didn't hear. "My name...is Arthur!" The young man was so happy silent tears ran down his rosy cheeks and into his wide smile. Jons spirits rose in seeing the delight that gave his young ward, something everyone took for granted so often: A name.

Arthur let the silence finally longer, the weight of his name settling in. The crisp night would hold some new and interesting things yet, Jon thought to himself. Arthur and his smile turned back to Jon, "Please, Father, tell me more about heaven. Why do you say we walk in Eden every day?" Jon nodded his agreement and chose a path of an easy to understand story for the boy, "This world is old, young Arthur, and so am I. Already I've existed for more than 300 years, living as a man, passing the word of God and the world we live in much, much older than even I can fathom. And I'm quite clever. Once. Far before you were born. There was a man who tried to unite heaven and earth. It ended very badly. But. In that very bad act we learned good knowledge: The kingdom of heaven is around us." Arthur didn't seem to understand, so Jon went further into explanation.

"The world is not what you think, Arthur. Heaven and earth and the inferno all exist. And they exist here, all at the very same time we do. But. There's a wall between the three kingdoms." The blonde haired boy looked at Jon with wide eyes, "Kingdoms?" Jon nodded and continued, "Yes, kingdoms. And as long as they are separate we can live in peace. Any breach of that wall and bad things will happen." Arthur drank the whole thing in, the horse beneath him walking a steady pace, then he asked, "Father Jon...If heaven falls to earth what happens to us?" Jon took a moment and decided the best answer was the truth. His tone was cold and hard, "We burn."

The words sent a shiver through the young lad. And he spoke with determination and courage in his juvenile voice. "If I'm to be king...I'll be sure to keep the three kingdoms separate and ensure that heaven remain standing. And I'll guard the gates of heaven and earth alike and make certain no one tries to combine them again." Jon offered the boy a sincere smile and a nod of approval. "Well said, Arthur. But first. Let's get you that blasted sword, yeah?" Arthur nodded and faced forward. "Father, you're very old." Jon winked and from then on the twelve men rode in silence.

Back in his apartment Jon smiled a sad smile for his long lost ward, and said a small prayer that heaven received their protector well. But. Arthur reminded him then and now what was afoot: Someone was trying to unite the three kingdoms.