Abduction

            A bead of sweat left a damp trail as it raced down Harvey’s temple, his eyes continuously shifting between the window above his head, and the bedroom door. Lifting his head slightly, he slid his hand beneath the pillow, and rested his head back into place. Searching with his hand, his fingers reassuringly touched the handle of the 357 magnum. He grasped it once, then released it and returned his hand to his chest. Then sliding his hand beneath the sheets he felt along the side of his thigh until it came upon the ten inch hunting knife he had sandwiched between his leg and the mattress. He could feel the last ditch effort around his chest. The explosives weighed heavily down upon him. Taking a deep breath, and willing against fear, he shut his eyes. They would come soon.

           

            For several hours Harvey battled against the anxiety that strangled him. He did not know what to expect, only that they were coming, if only because they had come before. He had no memory of anything that had occurred, only a gnawing in his gut, like a rat trying to escape from his stomach. They only came at night – who? – he did not know. But they took him away – where? – he did not know that either. However, he was confident of one thing, and that was that this time they would not take him without a battle.

            The minutes continued to drain away the night, and Harvey still found himself unable to fall asleep. Did he need to sleep before they would come? Did they have some way of knowing? Eyes closed still, he tried to calm his mind. Tried to find a passage to sleep. He could not endure this night after night. He had to make a stand – he had to end this here, tonight. Taking another deep breath, and concentrating on slowing his heart, he slowly exhaled. That is when it came.

            Experts say that there is no credence to the possibility that a person can feel when they are being watched. But anyone who has experienced this feeling would gladly flip off the nearest expert and tell them to shove it up their ass.

            Harvey could feel it now. He could feel eyes upon him like cobwebs being blown across his face by a gentle breeze.  He opened his eyelids ever so slightly. Through the blur of eyelashes he surveyed the room. Nothing. NO, WAIT!!! There was something in the doorway. At first he could not ascertain what it was, only that it stood out from the doorway. Something different, something amiss. Then he recognized it – an eye. Dark, lifeless. It peeked from around the edge of the doorway examining Harvey. Perhaps trying to decide weather or not he was asleep. Cautiously it stepped into the doorway. It stood about five feet tall, its body nauseatingly thin. Its form reminded Harvey of the grotesque pictures taken at the World War 2 Nazi concentration camps.

            As it stepped slowly into the room, Harvey stiffened slightly, battling the panic inside of him. Patience! Must have patience.

            The other-worldly being now stopped abruptly. It cocked its head, as if it could hear Harvey’s thoughts.

           

            What is it doing?

It tilted its head in the other direction – concentrating.

            Come closer. Come so that I can blow your head off, you sonofabitch!!!

            The creature jerked upright, back straight, and its small guppy-like mouth opened in terror. It raised its hands, palms facing up, and Harvey could feel a numbing sensation crawling up his spine. He could be patient no longer. In one uniform motion he slid his hand under the pillow, leapt from the bed, and took aim at the being’s skull.

            Squeezing the trigger, the pistol let out a deafening POP! The bulleted entered directly between the being's two, large, lifeless eyes. As it exited, it painted the wall around the doorway with a milky blue substance that Harvey assumed was the being’s brain. Its body crumpled to the floor like a science class skeleton that had been knocked from its hanger. Harvey stepped forward and stood over the corpse.

            He looked down at the beings body, and with a look of disgust he spat on the still twitching remains, “Bastard.”

            That was when he heard it - a loud commotion coming from the hallway. Before he could gather himself, a swarm of different beings stormed into the room. These were only about three feet tall, but were broad and muscular, and had blue skin.

            “SCREW YOU!!!!!” Harvey yelled maniacally as he began to fire off round after round at the attacking hoard. He emptied the clip, rapidly loaded another, and continued to fire. He had not even realized that he was yelling like a wild-man, as the body count accumulated.

            That was when he heard the most terrifying sound in his life - the click of an empty pistol. The beings continued to flood into the room. Harvey was now running on pure adrenaline. He reached for his thigh, and pulled the hunting knife free. The little blue beings were now upon him. He slashed and hacked. The beings screamed like injured rabbits as Harvey inflicted deep gashes, and severed limbs.

            And yet they still kept coming.

            Soon they would overtake him. Soon, he would fall prey to them, and whatever bizarre experiments that they had planned. In one last show of strength he threw several beings off of him and reached for the detonator on his chest, but he never made it.

            One of the beings had latched onto his right arm. Quickly another grabbed his left as well. Still streaming into the room, they quickly overwhelmed Harvey, pressing him to the ground.

            “NOOOOOO!” He cried as he fell beneath their weight. He felt the air escaping from him, and saw dark rings around the edges of his vision. Then peace. Nothing but a feeling of tranquility. He no longer cared, as the world around him turned to black.

            In the darkness Harvey felt something cold, damp, and gritty pressing against his cheek. It was somewhat comforting, and he felt as though he would like to lie there and sleep for a while. Just as he sighed, and sank deeper into his sleep, he got a blast of cold liquid up his nostrils. It was salty, and burned his sinuses. Gagging and coughing, he leapt to his feet, stumbled, then fell to his knees. As he blew the rest of the salt water from his sinuses, a sudden wave of nausea came upon him. He vomited onto the sand. Then feeling his stomach ease, he slowly stood to his feet. His knees wobbled in a movement reminiscent of the chicken dance, then steadied.

            The last thing he remembered was attempting to detonate the explosives on his chest when he was outnumbered. Closing his eyes, he shook his head, trying to remember. He could not. He strained against his memories, but found nothing. What had transpired? Attempting to recall the events that had taken place between the time he had been abducted, and the present was bordering on painful. His attempts proved futile.

            He looked up at the horizon. The sun was sitting low and orange upon the ocean, but Harvey did not know whether it was setting or rising. In the distance, he could see a billowing black column of smoke rising from the sea. Something burned white hot in the midst of the water at the base of the smoke. A wave crashed upon the beach, flowed around Harvey’s ankles, and then retreated, eroding the sand beneath his feet. He stepped away from the water, and surveyed the area.

            The sand was black, and where the beach ended, a thick forest of palms and tropical foliage began. A black sand beach? How many of those could there be in the world? The sun was rising, so Harvey knew that it was morning. Still too early though for tourists to be roaming the beach. In the distance, just above the tree line, he saw the yellow glow of electric lights. A resort perhaps? He could only hope.

            His head was now beginning to throb, and looking down at his clothing he saw that they were burned and tattered. Painful blisters shown on his skin in various places, and most of the hair on the right side of his body had been singed off.

To himself he said, “Damn. I could sure use a shower and a change of clothes.” Still a little woozy, he hobbled toward the lights. 

Where's the Experience!!!!

Optical drives disappearing from computers, bookstores closing down, no more large record stores, and there haven’t been video stores in quite some time. I guess the only place left to purchase media is online in digital format. While I don’t have an issue with this, and have purchased quite a bit of music, literature, and movies online myself, there is great loss that does not seem to be realized yet – The Experience.

Going to a bookstore, or a music store is an experience for the senses. Walking into a music store, browsing the shelves as you look for that one cd. Music plays in the background as you actually browse with, and maybe even speak with other people. The cover art is just that – art. It is the collaboration of designer and musician coming together in an effort to portray to you – the fan – the message behind their album. To be able to hold the CD/album in your hand, to see it, read the song titles on the back, to feel it. It’s real, tangible, and when you purchase it, you will be able to take it home, put it in your cd tower among your collection. It’s yours, it belongs to you.

To walk into a book store and browse the shelves. Pausing occasionally to read the synopses on the back covers. The rough texture of the pages against your finger tips, The aroma of the paper as you riffle through it. Perhaps the low hypnotic sounds of classical music waft through the air. And just as with the CD, you get to take it home, and place it on the bookshelf among the rest of your treasured library. Once again, it’s there, it’s yours, and you can hold it when ever you want.

Ownership of these items, actual physical ownership, is like wealth. Money in the bank is just numbers. It can be lost, taken, or arrested. But when you own gold you can touch it, hold it. It’s yours. It’s wealth is tangible.

All of these things, these ideas, these concepts are lost in the digital age where society merely wants instant gratification. If I want it, then I want it now. No waiting, no looking, no JOURNEY!!!! What will happen to waiting for hours to have your favorite musician autograph your CD, or a popular novelist sign your book. Where will these events be held? Likely, they will not. Or perhaps you can just meet them via Twitter. That way you can avoid the crowds, and heaven forbid – GASP – socialize with other people!!! Maybe even make a new friend!!!! OMG!!! Who has ever heard of such a thing!!!

And the sad part is, that we didn’t even know what we had. These small experiences seem so trivial, until they no longer exist. And what’s worse, is that so many people don’t even care. They gladly sell off these tiny jewels just so that they never have to peel their ever-growing rears from the sofa. They can have Netflix streaming across their widescreen TV, while the laptop sits open on the arm of their couch browsing the latest in digital music and literature on iTunes. They don’t even need to go out anymore to socialize. They can accomplish this with Facebook, and texting on their cell phone. Who needs actual people skills, right? Not when you can be Mr. or Miss popular with over 500 Facebook friends. So what if you’ve never actually met most of these people.

I weep for this new younger generation, if only because not only will they miss out on these small, yet oh so enjoyable experiences, but they won’t even know such experiences ever existed. They will continue to hole themselves up in their homes, never speaking face to face. Never experiencing the world. Never exercising their senses.

Again, there is nothing wrong with downloading music, literature, and entertainment, but only as a supplement to the real thing. Most bookstores are gone, as are most large music stores. Time has about run out. I would like to implore you not to let the sun set on this experience, but to fight. To encourage these businesses to keep their doors open by patronizing them. However, I fear it is too late. I think it is human nature to get caught up in the next big thing – to follow the rest of the sheep. Society has already sold out. Or have they?

I suppose I will just have to sit around and remember the way things use to be, when you actually experienced life, as opposed to watching it.

Thoughts of the Beginning

The road was an endless strip of blackness. A silver haze suspended just above its surface reflected the translucent glow of the waxing moon that hung like a pale specter drifting across the sky. A nervous cottontail chewed on a moist shoot of grass, while standing, ready to flee, on a small embankment just north of the road. Thus is the life of this section of Imperial Highway. It was a stretch of openness between Yorba Linda and the Anaheim city limits. Every night was the same. Even the temperature rarely varied, but what else can be expected in the Southern California climate.

In a blur the cottontail darted for its nearby hollow in the earth, as a black Toyota Camry careened dangerously close to the shoulder at 110mph. Again in control of the Camry, Harvey glanced in his rear view mirror only to see that the red BMW was still gaining on him. Who the driver was, he did not know, but he could guess. The BMW accelerated rapidly, pounding the Camry and crumpling the rear bumper.

“SHIT!” Harvey yelled to himself.

The BMW began to pull up on the driver’s side of the Camry. Harvey risked a glance back at his unknown assailant. Just as he did, the BMW slammed into the rear driver’s side door.

“YOU SUNNAVUH…!!!” Harvey exclaimed. Of all the cars that he had owned, this was his favorite, and he would be damned if he were going to let this bastard get the better of him. Harvey swiftly grabbed the Smith and Wesson 40-caliber handgun from its resting-place on the front passenger seat. Gun in-hand, he pressed the automatic power window switch. Harvey managed a glance at the digital display clock on the dash as the window lowered with a whir from its electric motor. 5:45AM. The chilled morning air rushed into the cockpit of the vehicle and stabbed at Harvey’s face and neck like a thousand tiny needles. He pulled the pistol to his chest, and began to remove, ever so slightly, his foot from the gas pedal. Slowly, very slowly, the BMW began to approach the front driver’s side window of the Camry. Harvey squinted through the piercing wind in an attempt to target his assailant. Just as he was about to give up, and start blasting, his eyes adjusted to the eerie twilight of dawn, although later he wished that they had not.

Sitting in the driver’s seat, with both hands on the steering wheel, was a grotesque creature with one eye in the middle of his forehead. Its long ears protruded from his head, and flapped with the momentum of the car, like an elephant.  Its hair was shoulder length and disgustingly nappy and matted. But the worst part was its mouth. It was open in a maniacal grin that seemed to spread from ear to ear. It appeared to have row after row of short pointed teeth.

Harvey rocked back into the seat in shock. He glanced at the road before him. He was approaching the city of Yorba Linda.  A green street light could be seen ahead. He looked back at the monstrosity. It’s still smiling! Why won’t it stop smiling at me! He screamed in his head.

The creature faltered for a moment as he averted his gaze to the street ahead of his car. When it turned back, it found itself staring at the loaded barrel of Harvey’s pistol. With a pop that shattered the cold silence of the morning, a bullet pierced the passenger side window of the BMW, and tore into the creature’s face. Harvey accelerated as the BMW swerved and came to an explosive crash into the ditch along the side of the road. The car burst into a display of reds and yellows as flames leaped from within. Harvey pulled over, a mile and a half down the road and hopped out of his car. He shivered as he looked back at the dull yellow glow of the burning BMW on the horizon. As he stood there he began to think of the events that had lead to this strange turn in his life.

In the distance he could hear the faint cry of sirens. Someone must have witnessed the crash, and called 911. Risking one last look at the vehicle, engulfed in flames and spewing black acrid smoke into the air, Harvey turned to the open door of his Camry, tossed the pistol to the passenger’s seat and sat down. He let out a sigh of relief, started the car, and proceeded down Imperial Highway.

Story Soon

Hi,
I wanted to start posting some of my short stories. They're very short, but follow a character that I have been using since high school. His name is Harvey Spencer and he is basically just an average guy. Each story simply throws him into a bizarre (usually supernatural) situation, and often ends rather abruptly. They are just bizarre spouts from my imagination, really.

However, I went surfing this last Friday and got nailed by a stingray. Been surfing for years, and going to the beach my whole life, and while they are always all over when the water warms up, I have never had an issue. Guess I've just been lucky for all these years. Anyway, most of the time it is a quick puncture and envenomation. Well this guy really jammed a good length of his barb into the arch of my foot.

Putting your foot into hot water takes away the pain, but because of the large hole and excessive bleeding I couldn't do that. Suffice to say I just had to endure the pain, sweats, nausea, and faintness. It was feeling a little better by the time my wife got me to urgent care a few hours later, but then the doctor numbed the wound with a large gauge needle that proved to be more painful than the sting. Oh well. Three stitches, and three days later, I am still hobbling, but feeling better. No surfing, skateboarding, futsal, or running for ten days. It'll drive me nuts, but maybe I can do some writing.

Anyway, I should have the first Intro story up by tonight. Keep in mind that most of them are extremely short, but I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoy writing them. Thanks.

My first novel on Kindle

Ok. So I have been writing my whole life. Pretty much all short stories, and mostly about the same character. Then a few years ago I decided to get ambitious and write my first novel. It was definately a labor of love, and of course just like anyone else who has written a novel, whether admittedly good or bad, would very much like to share my story with the public. I have decided to publish on Kindle, and have read numerous sites, pages, and postings on the pros and cons of taking this route. Wow! A lot to think about. In all honesty I think I would also like to offer my book here, for free, just so that I can get some feedback. And really, just because I like sharing my stories with others. We'll see where this whole journey takes me.