5/6/10

How People Feel

     “I wish they knew how I felt,” thought Bradley, barely containing his tears. At 4’ 7” Brad was the biggest kid in his class at Guppler Elementary. He was new to the school that year. At first the others had been scared of him, but being the kind-hearted, friendly child he was, Brad had soon assured them that he didn’t like to hurt anyone.
     Unfortunately, this immediately labeled him as a target to all the bullies. They tormented him in class, shooting spit wads, throwing paper balls, and sometimes even tripping him. They isolated him at recess, telling the other children lies to keep them from playing with him. This continued throughout the year, and Brad would just sit and take it. He didn’t care about spit wads and paper balls. He didn’t want to play with them, “Who would want to play with such mean people,” he always thought.
     But now it was different. They had become bored with their paper balls and spit wads. They began to lose interest in his isolation. They needed something new. They found it, in the form of the school dumpster. It took 5 kids to lift Bradley off the ground and another to hold open the dumpster. That was no problem for the bullies though. There were many boys jealous of Bradley’s size and ready to show they were better.
     This was Brad’s sixth time in the dumpster. Covered in the slime from yesterday’s lunch, Bradley sobbed. “Why do they hate me,” he wondered in despair, “I wish they knew knew how this made me feel.”


-      -      -      -      -


     Tyler Jackel was feeling oddly depressed as he trudged home from school that day. He had just had a fantastic time sticking “Big Bum” Bradley in the school dumpster with his friends, and wondered what was bothering him.
     “Oh well,” he thought, as he neared his house, “I'll think about it tomorrow.”


-      -      -      -      -


     Tyler was looking forward to another wonderful after-school session of “Dunk in the Dumpster.” He shot out the back doors only seconds after the bell rang, quickly gathering with his bunch of pals to go dunk Brad.
     They had just spotted the kid and were taking of after him, when Tyler was hit with a pang of horror like someone had punched him in the gut. He was in tears, though he wouldn't let his friends know that. He quickly wiped the tears away and shoved the feeling to the back of his mind.
     They caught up with Bradley and were hoisting him up in the air, when Tyler was once again struck with a sledge hammer of remorse. This time he couldn't ignore it, however. Holding back the tears and summoning up his courage, he said something in a calm, assertive, commanding voice. Something that would change Brad's life.


“Put him Down!”


The point of this story is, I guess, to remind everyone that we all have feelings, and no matter how much we can wish otherwise, can have those feelings hurt. Also, to remind us that if we all do our part to keep from hurting the feelings we all share, the world would be a much nicer place.

5/5/10

Sorry guys

I know all of you will be terrilby disappointed, but for security reasons i will not disclose much (if any) more of the strong trilogy until the 1st book has been published. So to make up for the loss I will be suppying a flow of short stroies instead. Hope you enjoy them.

5/4/10

Another part! Yay!

Chapter 2




     He watched in silence as the boy materialized from nowhere standing on the manhole cover. He was not startled. He was not frightened. He simply stood in his hiding place and watched.
     As he'd expected the boy looked to be about 18, with black hair hanging an inch or two past his eyes. He wore baggy black jeans and a black T-shirt.
     The kid did a quick 360, taking in his surroundings. All of it except the man in the black trench coat. The one just hidden around the corner of the alley. Then, he stepped to the side just in time for another figure to appear right on the circle of metal where he'd been standing. This one more quaint and innocent, with short, sandy blonde hair and glasses.
     This new arrival had also been expected by the man in black. Both his objectives were now present. He already had a means of achieving his goal without attracting attention. All he had to do... was act.



_________




     Drew reached his destination the instant he set foot on the Way. One second he was in that dank, damp, underground room, the next he was here.
     "Wherever here is," Drew thought, wondering curiously what this new place was like. He didn't have much time to ponder this question, however, as he was set upon by an irritated cousin.
     "I thought I told you to wait several seconds before coming," Jay snarled, "you nearly materialized right on top of me!"
     "Sorry. I got distracted," replied a very flustered Drew, surprised at his cousin's sudden outburst.
     "It's alright," growled James, getting his frustration back in check, "I managed to get out of the way."
     "Ahem."
     Both boys spun around so fast they nearly gave themselves whiplash, Jay's face with a look of alertness and suspicion, Drew's with one of curiosity, surprise, and excitement. There, at the fork in the alley, stood a man. He as of tall and slender yet strong build, wearing a black trench coat adorned with silver spikes, chains, and buckles in seemingly random places. He had black, spiked hair and intense gray eyes.
     The man silently lifted a hand, palm facing the adolescents. Then, in one sharp motion, it closed into a fist.

Here's the next Part

Chapter 1




     He strode confidently down the dilapidated, crumbling, old corridor of the abandoned warehouse. "A confidence," he thought, "born of practiced precision and routine, coupled with my exceptional ability to control fear." 75 year-old (this being about 18 years for humans) James Strong, or Jay, as he liked to be called, was especially proud of his unique and unusual domain of fear. Most immortals controlled physical, tangible, or at least visible things. He however, was one of the exceptions.
     Rather than being able to manipulate simple, noticeable materials or energies, he controlled the subtle and surprisingly complex emotion of fear. He not only controlled it however, he had worked hard for years to learn all the types, degrees, and nuances of fear. Several years ago he could rarely exercise his dominion over fear without accidentally making someone scream in panic. Unlike then, he now had years of experience operating the feeling, and could use it for anything from keeping control of his own nervous energy, or sending an overly aggressive rottweiler whimpering back to it's master, to influencing one's fear with such careful, almost rhythmic precision as to influence their decisions just enough that they would decide to do what he wanted.
     In fact he was striding, at that moment, through a piece of his very own handiwork. He was the reason the warehouse was abandoned. Quite a few years ago, when he was seven years old, he had discovered something in the building. Something that would bring his dreams to life.
     He had been playing Hide and Seek. Desperate for a location in which to conceal himself, he finally located an old, walk-in, supply closet. Quickly, he ducked inside. He hurriedly slid box after box aside, trying to clear a place where he could crouch down and wait.
     In his frantic shoving he almost did not notice as he thrust aside one last box uncovering what appeared to be a trap door set into the floor. Being the curious young child that he was, Jay flipped up the cover, and dropped nimbly into the passages below. He discovered, down in that dark, dank, labyrinth, an ancient, yet still operational, Way. He was thrilled with his discovery, and resolved to keep it a secret between only his most trusted companions.
     Now, the decision was paying off. After years and months of patient manipulation through fear, he had caused that storage facility to be forsaken, and now left entirely alone. The entire repository was now covered with a blanket of fear strong enough to freeze one's blood if they didn't have Jay with them to relieve the heart-stopping terror. An effective method of keeping his discovery unknown.
     He was interrupted, however, when his cousin, peer, and best friend, Drew Strong, commented into his musings, "You always were the adventuresome rebel, Jay. Even back then. Having nerve enough to organize a game of Hide and Seek in an off-limits area, and then go exploring in old, spooky, underground tunnels to boot."
     This was no unusual occurrence for Jay, who was accustomed to his cousin's subconscious habit of reading his thoughts. Because, like himself, Drew also had a rather peculiar domain. His domain being the mind, Drew could read and interject into one's thoughts, as over the years he had developed the habit of accidentally doing so.
     For, unlike Jay, who was constantly in complete control of his thoughts and feelings, Drew's were always wandering, always pondering the various questions and patterns of life. His mind would, over time, distractedly meander not only through his own thoughts, but all those he could access, including the thoughts of others.
     "I still am," replied Jay, Not even aware that Drew had just invaded upon his reminisces, "Why do you think we're doing this now?"
     "To take control of our own destinies and provide an example and inspiration for others to do the same," Drew recited dutifully from memory (Jay having hammered the purpose into his head a few months ago), but Jay didn't even hear him. They had arrived at the trap door Jay had uncovered all those years ago.
     With a creak, Drew grasped the metal ring and pulled open the door on rusting hinges. "After you," he said politely, gesturing for Jay to go ahead. Jay didn't turn down his cousin's courtesy, and lowered himself quietly into the black space below. With a faint ‘click' white light spilled outward from Jay's electric lantern, like crystal clear water forming a pool around a melting ice cube.
     "Pass me our gear," Jay called up. Receiving a cascade of falling bags in reply.
     Deftly catching each one before it could complete it's collision course with the tunnel floor, Jay lightly deposited them all in a neat stack on the ground. Then turned to assist Drew with his own descent.
     Once they were both in the passages with all their equipment, and the trap door had been closed, they continued on through the maze, making small talk and Drew soon totally forgot where they were and what they were doing, entirely absorbed in their conversation over the pros and cons of pen-lights.
     As they made their way through the mess of passages and corridors, Jay was hardly listening to Drew, who was now talking about whether it was more expensive to keep a hamster or a guinea pig. Jay already had his hands full, trying to keep them on the right course through the subterranean network.
     "We're here," Jay stated, interrupting Drew's spoken reflections about the general, psychological tendencies of various personalities.
     "We're where?" wondered Drew, just now shifting his attention from the speculations of his mind. "Oh yes. Here," he continued, answering his own question.
     "Well of course ‘here'," Jay replied caustically, "Where else would we be going in this horrible place?"
     "Oh, I don't know," answered Drew (who was known for answering rhetorical questions), "What other places are there to go in here?"
     "Never mind," growled Jay, rolling his eyes, "But remember, wait a few seconds after I've gone before you step on the Way to give me time to get out of your way so that you won't appear on top of me. Alright?"
     "Sure. No problem, Jay," assured Drew, "Go ahead."
     Muttering under his breath, Jay stepped onto the shining disk in the floor, and disappeared.

The Prologue

This is the prologue. It is from the perspective of one of the main characters, Jay.


Prologue




     If you’re reading this, I need you to get something straight. I want you to read this through and keep it real quiet. He sees anything and everything that is even remotely noticeable among you humans. Yes, I know what you’re thinking. You’re wondering, “You humans? You mean you’re not one?!” Well, you’re right.
     My name’s James Darwin Strong, and I’m one of a superior race of sentient beings, calling ourselves immortals. At least most of us do. Some are arrogant enough to term themselves as ‘gods’, and others, just as arrogant, say that we are not superior beings, but only that you are pathetic inferior ones (though personally I don’t agree with either view).
     Anyway, I imagine this must be rather difficult for you to swallow, so to speak. I’ll do some explaining for you. There are these things called Ways. They are the only connecting points between our world and yours. In your world they resemble what you call manhole covers. To you humans they are just that. However, if an immortal steps onto a Way, they are instantly teleported between worlds, to what is know as, in our world, a Way station.
     This method replaced the previous, cobblestone method. This happened for a few reasons. First, cobblestone roads have been largely made obsolete by your concrete and asphalt ones. Second, it was rather difficult and impractical to have to memorize and locate exactly which stone was the Way and which ones weren’t. Third, some people’s feet were too large to fit entirely upon a cobblestone causing a rather distressing dilemma. So we Strongs had to get this system up to date.
     It had to be the Strong family to update the system for the following reason. There are six main groupings of Ways. Each connecting one of the six main regions of our world to each of your continents with the exception of... Oh, what was it called? The icy one. Oh yes! Auntarkticah. Each of these afore mentioned regions is governed by an immortal clan.
     My clan, the Strong clan, rules the region attached to your... Oh dang! I forgot again. Oh yeah! Norse Amairiku. So we are therefore responsible for our Ways. Not that we use them very much.
     My great-granduncle, Matthias Strong, head of our clan, has seen fit to ban all Strongs from having any contact whatsoever with humans. (That’s why you can’t tell anyone about this message.) It goes even farther than that though. He also has forbidden any Strong from marrying a non-Strong, even if they’re another immortal. He says that it ‘makes sure only a full and legitimate Strong family member can rule,’ and nobody can challenge him; he is the only one able to update our Ways.
     You see, each immortal has one material or attribute that they control, known as their “domain.” No two immortals have the same domain. Uncle Matt’s domain is land. This means that the region’s Ways are within his domain. Therefore, no one dares cross him. It doesn’t help that he has a nasty temper sometimes, and that, however contradictory it may seem, immortals can be killed.
     So no one has ever had the guts to do anything but mindlessly obey him... until now. I, James Darwin Strong, plan to put an end to that.