Nick and the Big-ass Demon

I stood in the middle of the road, peering through the evening's foggy darkness as the moon watched, nervously from her perch in the sky. Across the field, to the east, the trees shook. I held my spear, an old dowel with a point whittled on one end, tightly in my hand and took a deep breath. I could hear the rush of water from the river behind the trees and the sound of heavy breathing, but not my own. The rasping breath seemed to struggle as it dragged air into its lungs. A choking growl came and the leaves trembled.
To the south, a bit of light began to grow and an engine revved. I took a few steps back, keeping my eyes on the far branches as a large truck, roared down the road. I turned my eyes away as the bright lights zoomed by. I raised my head again, and watched as truck's red lights dwindled, finally disappearing around a bend in the road. I turned my head back to the treeline.
"Come on," I said, in a hushed tone. The moon took refuge behind a cloud. My eyes readjusted to the darkness quickly. The brambles across the field gave a violent shake and a black mass shot into the sky. It reached the acme of its height and a pair of broad, leathery wings erupted from its back. It floated down to the ground, landing with earth shaking force, despite its attempt at grace. As the creature landed, the moon reemerged, revealing a pair of beady black eyes, resting in a giant head. Atop the head were two horns, one broken, the other long and curved, like a wildebeest's, and a pair of pointed ears, like those of a bat. Below the eyes, a pair of narrow slits opened and closed as the cool night air was sucked in and out of the monster's lungs. The rest of its body was much like that of a twenty foot tall man, save for the hooves, which dug deep into the grassy field.
"There we go," I said. "How are you, Caldar?" The beast said nothing and drew a giant, gnarly scimitar from a sheath on its belt. It stepped forward, shaking the ground with each stride until it stood in the middle of the road, blocking out the moonlight, casting a giant shadow on me.
"I'm tired," the beast grumbled. "What do you want?"

What? (draft I)

Diane sat on the side of the bed, looking over her shoulder at Evan. He smiled up at her. She moved her hand and he covered it with his. He took it, gently and kissed the top, near the knuckle. Her lips curled into a smile and she leaned in for a kiss. Evan sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, sitting next to her. His dark green eyes gazed lovingly into hers and it was quiet. She leaned forward to pick up her stockings. Evan put his hand on her back and massaged it gently. Diane came up and pulled on her stockings. Evan kissed her on the cheek. She grabbed his chin and turned his head, putting her lips on his. She stood up and took his hands.
"Come on," she said. "I'm gonna take a shower..." She picked up a towel and wrapping it around herself, opened the door and slipped out into the hallway, save for her head. "That was an invitation," she said, coyly. Evan hopped off the bed and ran after her.
Diane, rounded the corner and came into the living room, where she was met by a pair of glasses, masking a pair of envious, burning eyes. They watched her as she nonchalantly crossed the soft rug to the guest bathroom. Evan made the same turn and stumbled awkwardly into range and the eyes stabbed through him. He stammered a "Hullo, er...Edward" and disappeared down the hallway. Below the eyes, a hand, resting on the arm of the chair tensed into a hard fist, but it did not move. Diane came out of the bathroom, carrying a loofah. The eyes darted back to her and watched as she came to the corner. Before disappearing down the hall, she stopped. She stood for a long time, as if she were waiting for something, then turned around to face the man glaring at her. Leering back at him, she remained as silent, and he barely made a sound, save for his heavy, stressed breaths. The early morning sun came blasting through the skylight, illuminating the gold band on his third finger. Finally, she rolled her eyes and shifted her weight.
"What!?" She demanded. He remained still. She grimaced, meeting his glare with her own and turned down the hall, toward the bathroom.

The Long Walk...

Robert hit the ground hard. His head, stuffed uncomfortably in the soaking, sweaty burlap bag, slammed into the hot earth. He heard the click of a knife blade locking into place. As his heart quickened, he felt a tug on the rope binding his hands. The cords gave way and he was released. He tore the bag from his face, ready to breathe in the hot dry air, but was met only by his trusted associate. Alexander struck the doctor and rolled over in the dust, lying face up.
"Farewell, gentlemen!" called Professor Lambert, from the driver's seat. He sped off in a cloud of dust, leaving Robert and Alex behind. Coughing, Robert clamored to his feet and watched the Professor's red Ferrari shrink and blend with the rising heat waves. He brushed the dust from his shirt and looked at his friend on the ground.
"Well, that's it, I suppose," he said. He turned back to watch the last bit of scarlet sports car fade away. Waiting for his comrade to move, he brushed a bit more dust from his shirt, adjusted his collar and ran his hand through his sweaty hair. Disgusted, he rubbed the mess off on his pants. "Alex?" He asked, cautiously, looking the man over. There was no movement. "Alex!" The man did not stir. Robert fell to his knees and rolled him onto his back. There was a large wet spot and a hole in his shirt. Robert ran his finger along the edge of the wet spot and it came away, stained red. His heart raced and the sweat on his brow took an icy chill to it. His ears buzzed as if a gun had gone off near his head. And a voice came.
"Hello, Doctor," it said, familiarly. "By now, I'm long gone and you've discovered the little present I left inside your friend." Robert clenched his fists and his blood began to froth in his veins. "There is a small jug of water about a hundred miles due East. The sun his now at Solar Noon. If you wait a few minutes and calm down, you should make it to the water by dawn. I wish you the best of luck, my old friend. Now, rest up. You've got a long walk ahead of you."
Robert fell on his back, shaking with the heat both inside and out. He let out a roar that shook the stones at his feet and slammed his fists into the ground, sending bits of caked mud flying. As he lay there on the ground, breathing heavily, sweat pouring down his face, the sun glaring down at him, he heard a quiet ticking.
"Oh, and one more thing," the professor's voice said. "You'd better get going," The ticking grew louder. Robert leapt to his feet and sprinted away as his partner exploded into a ball of flame and body parts, some of which struck his back. As the carnage fell, he turned around and studied the smoking, bloody crater for a moment. A bit of scalp landed next to his feet and a small mist of blood had coated his face. Robert lowered his head. "Good-bye, Alex," he said, and he turned to the east, beginning the long walk.

Just one o' those nights...

Tears welling up in his eyes, he slammed his foot down hard on the gas. The sound of the music flew out the open windows, meeting the cold air as it rushed in, lovingly ruffling his hair. He turned the heavy guitars up until the nob wouldn't move anymore and flew around the corner. He passed a sign that read "Speed Limit 45 mph" and grinned maniacally as he looked at his speedometer and saw that it read twice that. He swung around another corner, swerving into the wrong lane and narrowly missing a mailbox. He tore through a small village. Noticing the speed limit was 25 mph, he lightly tapped the brake pedal, slowing down but not enough. He turned the music down to avoid waking the sleeping town. As he zipped through the quiet streets, the song changed. "Who am I but you in the sun? A sad reflection of everyone" The song continued as he got the edge of the village. Then, as he passed a sign reading "Speed limit 35" already going twice that, he put his foot back on the floor, revving his engine in sync with the song's crescendo. "Look at me!" his stereo screamed. He tore up the hill, the wind whipping at his eyes, dragging the tears back to his ears, which burned with the cold. In no time, he came to another town, this one with a higher speed limit, still irrelevant to his actual speed. He raced up the long shallow hill toward the red light, showing no sign of slowing, or any intention of it. With the light still red, he broke through the intersection, passing the white church and the gas station like old people on a highway. In seconds he was out of the town and back on the dark road, music leaving a trail of fading sound behind him. He threw on his blinker and turned onto the Taconic, speeding up as he rounded the curve to merge. His foot back on the floor, he roared down the quiet highway. He drove for a while until he came to a point to turn around. Switched pedals, but kept his foot on the floor. The tires screamed as the car spun around. Now facing the opposite direction, he hurtled down the road until he came to a small rest stop. It was a small parking lot, a place for children to pee and parents too look at maps, cluelessly. He turned off his car and got out. He opened the trunk and took out his horrified guitar. He closed the trunk went around to the front. After a minute and a half, the lights went off and his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Behind him, the full moon shined her light brilliantly, lighting up the valley below him. He smiled a bit and wiped his eyes dry. Wrapping the guitar over his shoulder, he leaned back on the warm hood of the car, resting his back against the windshield. A car drove by and he laughed to himself.
"Just one o' those nights," he said, and he began to play.

Hmm...

He sat there, still wet from the shower, a towel around his waist, not ready to get dressed yet, thinking about how long it'd been since he'd last written anything just for the sake of writing it. Way too fuckin' long. That's how long.

Wednesday Night Write

My head's about to bust open. I can't take it anymore so I hit the space bar, pausing the movie that put this whole thing into motion. I get up and check the fridge for somethin' to wet my throat. Nothing. Just some scraps o' food and a bottle of hot sauce, hardly the right stuff for gettin' rid o' this headache. I throw on my jacket, grab my keys and I'm out the door. I get in the elevator and there's a girl already in it. She seems like kind of a bitch, so I don't mind when she gets out. As soon as she's out I put on my gloves. Tight, leather, beautiful black gloves. Perfect for an assassin, like me. But not really. The elevator doesn't stop until the lobby, 'cause it's late at night. I'm just getting the second glove on when the door opens into the white-floored room where the security guys are. I nod to them and head out into the city. I walk down the street, still thinkin' of that movie and how cool I feel since I've been watchin' it. Then it hits me. I should write this down like I'm in the damn picture! I'll sound just like Marv. It'll be great. Only I'll be me so it'll also be a bit funny...'cept when I drag it out for too long like I do with everything...Well, not everything. I giggle to myself as I walk down the street. I see Steve and the guy whose name I don't know but I see him all the time. I learn it eventually. My eyes start to water as a cold wind hits me square in the face. I wipe away the tear with my glove and admire the dark line on the finger when I take it away. It shimmers in the street light and I look at it till I'm at the corner. It's not that long. I cross the street, diagonally 'cause it's late and I can do that. Also, 'cause I've been watchin' that movie and it's something the folks in that flick would do. I walk into the deli and my ears get angry at the Christmas music comin' over the radio. I get mad, but then I remember it's after Thanksgiving. I go over to the drinks and choose my poison. A $0.99 can o' Arizona Green Tea. Too much sugar for this time o' night, but too good to pass up. I put it on the counter with a dollar. The guy behind the counter smiles at me and gives me my penny. My shiny lucky penny. Get me home safe, little guy. I put the penny in my pocket, tell the guy to have a good night and leave. On the corner I spot Nikki, a sweet girl I met during orientation. She's got a good heart and a pair of eyes to go with it. We talk about majors and room mates till we get inside. Once we're in the elevator the good-byes don't need to be said. They're assumed and once we get to my floor I say "Good night" and that's that. I walk down the hall way, takin' off my gloves and diggin' into my pocket for the keys. I stick my door and turn it to make sure it feels it. When the damage is done and my door is defeated, I push it open with my foot and walk in. I toss my gloves on the bed and sit down at my desk. The movie's still there. Right where I left it. I crack open my Green Tea and bring up Firefox. Then my favorites. I click the link that takes me to my blog and open up a new entry. I start typing. I hammer away at those keys, like Mozart, only I'm not makin' music. I'm paintin' pictures. About half way through my brush strokes I hear a familiar voice. It's Carolyn. I go out and say hi and tell her what I'm workin' on. It's a little bit silly how excited I am. She says she'd like to read it so I get her e-mail address. I send it to her when it's done. I come back in and finish it. It's done. I click "Publish Post."

96 in a 55

The red and blue lights sliced through the darkness of the misty evening like a knife through hot butter. As the polished boots and badge climbed out of the gleaming car, the driver's hands, encased in black leather, remained still and on the mahogany wheel before him. The window sang its low, droning song as it was lowered, bringing in the sound of the officer's shoes as he approached, already writing his ticket.
"Do you know why I pulled you over?" he asked, robotically. The driver gave a small chuckle and turned his head up.
"Well, assuming you don't know about the large cache of weapons in my trunk, or the toxic chemicals in my passenger seat, or even the fact that I didn't pay for my coffee at the last rest stop, I'd say it was for my speed." The officer drew his gun and took a step back.
"Out of the car!" he ordered, aiming for the driver's chest. A shot split the breeze. The man stood firm, holding his ground. The driver hadn't moved. A second shot came, then a third, finally knocking the officer off balance. The door behind the driver's seat opened and a small pair of shoes hit the pavement.
"Also, there's an armed dwarf in the back," The policeman looked up at him in terror. The sound of a blade coming out into the world to play, crept into his ears and he watched helplessly as the little man leapt upon him and drove the blade into his throat. As he lay in the street, blood on his badge, the tiny assassin withdrew the dagger and jumped back into his seat.
"Thank you, Oliver," the driver said, still not turning his head. The only reply came as a gruff grunt from directly behind him. "Well, that's one. We've still got plenty of work to do! And the night is still so youthful!" With the push of a button, an old Ennio Morricone tune exploded through the stereo. The tires screamed and the vehicle vanished up the black pavement, leaving the flashing red and blue lights to illuminate the fallen officer.