Tristan-Chapter 3Chapter 3Tristan had always seen the irony in his job. Dealing with Demons day in and day out, it was clear to him that Hell really did exist. But in all the years and all the collective memories of those who had served the Department of Human and Demon Relations since the Great Wars, there had never been any Angel interactions…no sightings…no whispers of miracles…no warm, guiding light. Tristan’s coworkers were certain that Heaven and an all-mighty creator must exist, but the more Tristan dealt with the Demons, the less he believed in a God at all.He and Eden had sifted through the debris of two of the apartment buildings before dusk, but they had made little progress. It didn’t help that the September sky refused to relent in its attempt to wash away all memory of Iskariot in a steady gray downpour. Captain Michaelson’s list of contact had proven essentially useless to the agents. The Demons refused to know anything when they could actually be
Tristan-Chapter 2Chapter 2The street teemed with emergency personnel and intrigued bystanders, everyone staring transfixed at the blue flames that had engulfed the entire apartment building. As Tristan emerged, panting, from the doomed building with Persephone unconscious in his arms, a fireman was able to pull his eyes away from the bone-chilling blaze just long enough to address them.“H-hey! Do…do you need…help?” The fireman made a jerky attempt to approach them, but almost immediately went back to staring instead.Tristan grimaced, pitying him. The fireman was the one who really needed help here.Tristan made his way across the street as the ground began to shudder. The apartment building would collapse any minute now, and all these people were too mystified by the Hellfire to notice the danger.“Where is the DHDR?” he hissed.“You rang?”Tristan yelped and spun, nearly dropping Persephone in his surprise. “Thought it was your night off, Eden
Tristan-Chapter 1Chapter 1Something about the way she looked at him made him uneasy. Something in those wide, innocent eyes and the gentle curve of her plump lips made him want to run screaming back the way he had come. But his feet were rooted to terra firma. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to how delicate pure evil could look.She hugged her teddy bear close to her chest, batting her long lashes as she tugged at his sleeve. “Why don’t you ever tell me your name, mister?” she asked, her voice filled with childlike curiosity.“Don’t touch me,” he snapped, snatching his arm from her grasp. “My name isn’t any of your business, Demon, because you are none of mine.”The little girl pouted and hissed softly, her lips parting just slightly enough to reveal shark-like points that capped each tooth. His name was Tristan Gabriel, and there was officially no way he was going to tell her that now.“Where’s your master?” he dem
Going HomeIt's funnythe way the days chase each other,mixing together in a blur that spans weeks months yearsjumbling the things of which I thought I was sureWhat are memories, anyway,but subjective snapshots of time?maybe you were never there at allI can't remember your voice anymore.I think I forgot itthe moment you left.But there's always that one line repeating...I'll miss it. But it's good to be going home.
Sparrow-Chapter 22Danni had decided to pass off the lights in the sky as her imagination, coupled with two separate alien reports in the same day. Besides, she was too excited. Her father had given her permission to go to Aubrey’s party when they had finally pulled into the driveway of their summer home on the outskirts of Lafayette, Colorado. She definitely had better things to do than to concentrate on UFOs at the moment, anyway.Hopefully Danni would be able to talk to Grant in a day or two. He was currently stationed at the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs. She knew her brother wouldn’t be able to tell her about the sightings directly, but he had always been able to get the truth across to his sister in one way or another.“Okay, nobody leave empty-handed!” said Frank loudly as both his children raced for the front door of the house. This was one of Frank’s favorite sayings upon arriving at a long-awaited destination. It was also one of his favorite sayings for h
Sparrow-Chapter 11They came out of the sky the day every single person on earth was looking. They brought their promises, and their hopes, and every single last dream there to the dust of a world too ruined to ever be saved. They came to take what they knew could never belong to them, and they took it without a fight. When they left, they took perfection with them back into the stars, back into the inky darkness of eternal night.Danni Pearson read over the words she had scrawled across a crumpled loose leaf page in a sleepy hand, and scowled. Dumbest opening to a novel I’ve ever read, she thought, tearing the page neatly in quarters and dropping it into the waste basket. No more three A.M. bursts of inspiration from dead sleep for me. Out loud, Danni called down the upstairs hallway, “Mom! This summer class is gonna be the death of me!”She heard her mother, Nancy Pearson, let out an exasperated sigh, followed by soft footsteps down the carpeted hall. The smile
The LampI threw that lamp away today. The tall, floor lamp with the faux brass finish. A dream-catcher and a cat that loves feathers just so happened to spell out its demise in a violent dissonance of shattered glass, cat yowling, and the pounding of my own heart in my ears. I just find it strange that, of all the times it's fallen in my room before and though it landed on carpet this time, the etched glass bowl chose now to break.It made me remember that day. You know...you remember, don't you? Dad and I had slaved for days painting the walls and putting up that wallpaper mural. It wasn't until after we had finished our task that we realized none of my old bedroom things went with my new, more mature décor. I had grown out of the pastel hearts, and lacey pillows, and teddy-bears. I'd moved on to Italian vistas, and marble pillars, and rich wood. I slept that first night beneath the pink and white striped bed covers that I had used for the last twelve years of my life, silently bemoaning
Ashen Sky-Chapter 17The Zombie soldiers caught sight of the group on their Segways and chortled to each other in not-quite-human speech. They reminded Matt more of primates, using gestures and chattering grunts, but they were definitely communicating. And that could only mean one thing."They're getting smarter," Matt whispered to no one in particular."You're right, city boy," Riley murmured back, wheeling his Segway closer to Matt. "So, what do we do? You n' Sara used our only smoke bombs."Matt had grown accustomed to the group looking to him for direction, but he still felt incredibly awkward calling himself their leader. From inside Sara's duffle, Matt could hear Peaches growling lowly. He nearly laughed at the mental image that flashed through his head---a beach-ball puff of orange and white squished in with all of Sara's
whatever it was she had in there.More bricks, maybe. This time, he really did laugh."What's so funny about this?" demanded Tess, her sea-green eyes flashing
Ashen Sky-Chapter 16Fallout shelter. That was what they needed. There was no way they could make it out of the city and far enough away to avoid the fallout if a nuclear bomb really was dropped. Not on foot. Not with all the Zombies everywhere. Not with the army barri--"The army barricades!" Matt said suddenly, ignoring his raised index finger as he interrupted Riley and Tess's argument over who would be carrying the extra supply pack first while Honduras looked on, lost.Tess began to roll her eyes at Matt, but caught herself, and instead flashed him an interested smile. "What about them?" she asked sweetly as she reached for his raised hand and intertwined their fingers.Matt figured they were no what the normal world would have considered boyfriend and girlfriend, except---in the normal world (the world that existed just a week ago, Matt thought dismally), he never would have stood a chance with Tess. He supposed social norms probably did not exist anymore, anyway, considering half the U
He only dates broken girls.I will destroy you. I willmake you love mewithout even trying;you’ll love the scabson my knees, the bruisesunder my eyes, mysinged hair. You will lovethe rush of holdingmy hand as we crossthe bridge; you’ll feellike a hero each timeI don’t jump. You will buyme chocolates, the mostexpensive, to guilt meinto eating. You will buyme seeds instead of flowers,to give me a reason toget up in the morning. Youwill make me dependent,even as I feed your whiteknight complex. I will destroymyself, and so you,and you will know why storms are named after people.
ReflectionI want to sprinkle a piece of meInto bit-code hoping it sticks.But no one cares about the truthUnless it's funny.And I've lost sight Of what that is;I've been taught that it's all relative.We're all irrelevant in the endAnd so, the fire that use to burn in my heartIs all Charcoal. And I've been tryingTo see with no eyes; to drive withNo direction.But now I know I want to meltTogether people's 90 degree angles,Until the world knows everyone's rights.I want to melt together the distanceThat separates prose and poetry;Fact and Fiction; light and darkness.
While You Were SleepingWhile you were sleepingCells clusteredto whisper about you jealouslyin their tiny little chain gangbefore poppingpoppoppoppoppop -bigger, badder, better.While you were sleepingThey cementedtheir undying bond of friendshipand every face hardenedbefore poppingpoppoppoppoppop -sadder, snider, solid.While you were sleepingconspiracies rose and fellwith your breathand They rustled with laughterbefore poppingpoppoppoppoppop -more, malicious, mayhem.While you were sleepingCancer shoved over other kidsin the playgroundand took their placebefore poppingpoppoppoppoppop -suddenly, so, scared.While you were sleepingyou were overrunand we can fight it, of course,with artilleries in the arteriespoppingpoppoppoppoppop -we'll, wield, weaponsbut while you were sleepingthey took a misered,bleak,first victory;poppingpoppoppoppoppop -into tumultous, tumourtuous, laughteras you lay undefendedand they captured your heart.
The Horror StoryMy horror should turn to grit that chokes the rusting cogs of passing breaths.It should sneak into crevice and corner until each pirouette of a clock hand crunchesa desperate death rattle into the mid-December hysteria. It should.I want my terror to ooze into the machinery of existence and permeate the iron.I want it to coat, and coax wheels off their axels as my mind spins out of control.The whole world should grind it's internal organs like black pepper. To a halt.The stars should feel the chill of my desperation and slide sluggishly down the sides of the skydripping burning nitrous into our eyes that in turn melt out of their sockets.I want every subatomic particle of life itself to suddenly stop, mid sentence.This is the way the world should fall apart.This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends.Not with a bang but with a resolutely maternal voice, strong as gravity, growling "Cancer."I want the world so still that I will see the traces of the dead le
ImmuneYour poisonous wordsThe ones you throw at meUseless they areYou can't hurt meYou can't break meIt's beyond your power
Ignorant WisdomThe best of us die youngWhy?We are blood and bodyMind and muddled matterThat decays from the very airNecessary like an addictionOur eyes are skin and sinewSenses intaking a surfaceBut to the machine of faultsWhat is there lost to us?The best of us are of willAs what will be passed beliefThe demanding of subconsciousEdicts of the soulThen why do they die?Why must a will be severedWhen it drives our existenceAll that there isAnd will ever represent us?Why do vessels feed the muscle?Bones hold up our legsAnd a head with strong neckThat its aspirations rise?The best of us accomplishTasks of a higher calibreLike a barrel of the cannonOne volley into the starsThey undertake with all motiveAnd lose the unwinnable conditionFor through their demarcationRevitalize our weak heartsThe best of us die youngWhy?Because they are not usAnd remind us what we should beThrough the greatest leagueOf history's lessonsThey sacrifice their chance to liveAs watcher of the
ursa minor, maybei've realized that the only reason i have ever returned herehas been because of you.these paths we walked over and over againstill barely bare the imprint of our toes.you've been gone forclose to forever, i know. but stilli lay here where sky meets sea and stareat the stars you will never reach.it's kind of saddening to see that you will never be theinfinitely remembered cancer, orion, gemini;fame is not meant for everyone. you taught me that.once upon a time in a land broken long ago,you told me that the wicked never rest among the living.with quick feet i had thought you were talking of yourself, a wanderer, runner.now i see you only ever spoke of me.my feet have blisters.
two spoons in a draweri don't believe in god,but i know someone putthe stars in the skybecause here you are,loving me.
the hero of my life The hero of my lifeThere is a man over 5’8He has forever changed my fatePuts out a video every dayBrings hope like a ray of shineSome might call him a weirdoBut I call him a heroHe is light and funnyNot caring about moneyHis name is as funny as heBut has given him great fameHis friends are not as great as heBut he does not hate themNow you must know who my hero isMy best mate is MARKIPLIER
Just YouWill you love me?'Cause if you won't...Someone else will.Can you hold me?'Cause if you can't...Someone else can.Do you want me?'Cause if you don't...Someone else does.But the thing is...I don't want someone else.I want you.