The Kiss of the Witch Doctor

Life is never dull for the Talons even when they try to have a nice day on the beach.

The Talon Family

The Kiss of the Witch Doctor

February

Draft_2

By: Chase L. Currie

 

“A person may cause evil to others not only by his actions but by his inaction, and in either case, he is justly accountable to them for the injury.”

-John Stuart Mill ‘On Liberty’

 

“There are no heroes...in life, the monsters win.” 
― George R.R. Martin

 

New Orleans

Time: 2316

 

“Maggie,” Chelsea mumbles to her best friend as they pushed through the darkness of old New Orleans, where the house where haunt by ghosts forgotten by time. The block seems ripped from the 1800s than now.  They were heading for the one house no one dares to enter on the corner of a nameless street, but everyone called it Devil’s Lane. It was a bad place with bad medicine as the old timers said, but Maggie didn’t care tonight. Tonight, all she wanted was blood paid for blood, revenge in the quickest fashion.

“Maggie,” Chelsea said pulling on her arm to stop her dead in her track. “This is crazy.”

                The was a story they both heard during the hurricane that the water nor rain would touch the evil house. Everything ran around it and no one, even outsiders didn’t not dear go near it. It was as if the house radiance pure fear to everything. Even the trees didn’t grow right near the black house, and the animals steer far from the old wood of the building. Wood said to be soaked in blood.

                Maggie turns to face her black friend with oddly bright blue eyes. She moved in close to her hissing, “They killed my brother.”

                The story of the evil house went back many years ago during slavery; there were an old medicine man and his family who lives in the house. He was part black and part Native American. No one knew what tribe or country he held from, but they knew it was a bad place. The blacks said he came over on the boat from a place called “MitiNyeusi” or Black Trees where the King of Death lived. While the Native Americans said he came from the Ghost People, a tribe never seen but travel the land for the god of death and the dead. The tribe would come behind after a battle to eat the souls of the dead or, as they tale said, eat the bodies of the dead. Some called them the tribe of Vulture People, picking and living off the dead.

“I know,” Chelsea said looking down at her feet, the funeral was only a day ago. It was the hardest funeral they had ever been too. Jason was only six when the bullet ripped through his body. He wasn’t supposed to be outside or on that side of town, but Maggie wanted to meet her boyfriend and had to babysit. She could do both at the same time.

                And to the white people, the old medicine man was nothing but a fairy tale until a few children went missing. Days later the children bodies were found cut open with all their organs remove and their faces locked in a state of terror. The old newspapers then even said some of the children had body limbs missing where it looked as if something had taken a bite out of them.

                Maggie didn’t know if any of that was true, but she did know the white people went to the old man’s house, rape his family, and killed everyone living there. A week after the attack every single person who carried out the attack laid dead by bad luck or by sickness.

                The house quickly gains a story of being cruse making no one wanting to go into it again. Some people to this day still says they can hear the cries of the woman being raped and see touches roaming the house like a ghost.

                It was a good story Maggie thought, great for superstition but superstition was the very foundation of the city, and most of it wasn’t real.                

                She hoped it was real not just a story. She went to see her boyfriend, Matt, who like Jason a lot almost like a kid brother. They got along quite well, and in fact, he begged her to bring him along. He brought Jason a new coat and football for his birthday. It was over a month ago, but Maggie and Matt didn’t start hooking up until a few weeks before the shooting, but he wanted to get the boy something anyways. He was good with the kid, something Maggie loved about him because he didn’t have a father growing up. So, he went out of his way to be a father to any kid who crossed his path. He loved Jason. He was there at the funeral crying harder than anyone.

                The bullets were meant for Matt. He wasn’t in a gang that was his older brother ‘Blood Doctor’ or his real name Tommy, and an enemy of the gang was trying to send a very hard message. A message in blood by putting Matt in the ground. They missed and got Jason, a little boy who had nothing to do with anything.

                “But ---” Chelsea started to say, but Maggie stopped her.

                “But, nothing,” she growled heading back down the street, “you can come, or don’t I don’t care. We are going to be late.”

                Chelsea stood there for a moment watching her friend almost running down the sidewalk to the Devil’s house. She sighed and ran after her; she wasn’t going to let her do this alone at all.

                While all the old timers on the street believe the house was haunt and stayed away from it, the new bloods used it as a meeting for their gangs. It was a great place to have parties and bury a few people alive in the walls. Maggie crawled hole in the fence followed by Chelsea. They made it to the door when it opens with a large man staring them up and down.

                “You are late,” he said.

                “I know, Sweet,” Maggie said walking past him. ‘Sweet Bear’ or Jim was the sweetest boy in the whole gang. He would watch over everyone, mostly the girls not letting anything happen to them at parties. He was the sweetest person she knew unless he made him mad and then he could kill someone, more than likely has killed a few people already.

                Sweet show them downstairs in the basement where a few other men were standing around a guy tied up to a chair. The poor kid beaten up looked like he was fast asleep in the chair unaware he was about to meet his end.

                “About damn time,” Zack said walking up to Maggie.

                “Sorry,” she hissed at him.

                Chelsea fell behind Sweet trying not to see what was about to happen.

                “Is that him?” Maggie asked.

                “Yup, the man that is going to tell us everything,” Zack with a devilish grin.

                “Wake him up,” Maggie said with a harsh growl.

                One of them behind the young black boy ran something under nose shooting him awake. He looked around the room as if he had woken up from some nightmare and then study each face in the room. He glanced at the walls, the ceiling above him, and then to the dirt floor below him.

                “Welcome to the Devil’s house,” Maggie said with a grin.

                “No, no, no,” the boy started to cry, “this place has bad voodoo.”

                “It sure does,” Maggie said sporting a knife from her black hoodie.

                The boy gulp and then said, “The Devil lives here.”

                “You think Doctor Voudon is coming for our little souls?” Someone asked in the room making everyone else laughed.

                “Maybe, I’ll ask the Devil to find all your friends,” Maggie said growing closer to him, “and eat their eyes out.”

                “You don’t want to do that,” the boy said more afraid of the basement then the knife in his face.

                Maggie grin. “Oh, Mister Voudon, come play tonight,” she starts to sing. “Mister Voudon, come make all the dead gay tonight. We kiss Hellfire with this blood, tonight, Mister Voudon.” She cut a little of her finger letting a drop of blood soak into the dead earth beneath her feet.

                “Why?” The boy said suddenly becoming fearful of the knife. “Are you doing this?”

                “You don’t know who I am?” Maggie asked.

                “No.”

                “I’m the sister of the boy who was killed by the people in your car,” She told him.

                “And what do you want?” He asked.

                “Their hearts,” she said placing the knife on his face.

                “What will you give me for them?” The boy asked as everyone looked around at each other.

                Maggie stepped back a little not sure how to answer the question.

                “Well, child?” The boy asked in a much deeper voice than before. “You want the blood of your foes but what do I get in return?”

                “What is going on?” Someone asked. “Are you playing with us, man?”

                Maggie watched as the boy’s eyes fade to pitch black and stared deep into her soul. She felt someone or something walk in the halls of her mind. The thing was unwelcomed between her ears, and yet, she could make him go away.

                 The boy lifted his head up stretching out his neck and smiling from ear to ear. “The price is paid then.” Screams echoed from the basement as Chelsea ran for her life, tears pouring down her face at the sights she saw in that place, things she could never forget, and couldn’t find the words to say. The Devil walked among her friends and now, walks in the streets of his old home.

 

~

Sydney, Australia

Time: 1301

Six Months Later

 

Nothing beats the sun casting down rays of warmth onto the Talon family as they sat on the beach. Gabriel planned the trip shortly after returning from her last mission where she was trapped in the North Pole and almost frozen to death. A snowstorm hit her home back in Colorado, and she needed someplace warm to be for a while. A place where she could feel the sun touching her body and Australia seems to be the place for it.

                She laid on her beach towel beside her athletic adopted sister Helbis. They both had their sunglass on and bathed in the sun. They didn’t need to look around to see all the younger boys staring at them. Gabriel was tall, with fair skin and blonde headed with pale blue eyes. She was just as in shape as her Egyptian sister, the only other obvious different outside their hair color, Helbis was black, was her unique magical tattoos on her arms and legs. They were the embodiment of perfect physique on the beach.

                While in the water was Gabriel’s younger brothers; Raphael, tall and lanky build like the runner he was and Michael build like a body builder with arms to match. They had the same hair color dark brown, expect Michael keep his shave in a Mowhawk, but they both share the same facial structure and oddly, the same nose. Raphael’s face was a little longer than Michael like his body.

                Raphael had little green dots running through his body, and Michael had those same color dots all over his arms. Gabriel bear the same green dots in her hands, and these little rocks in their skin gave them the powers they now willed for Paladin. They were superheroes in their rights. Their powers gain from an accident involving a meteorite that was their father’s fault.

                Alexander Talon was one of the world’s greatest super geniuses working for the Paladin Division and trying to save the world from evil. He was studying a meteorite in his lad being aided by his three blood children when the space rock blew up giving them all powers. The children luckily enough had easy going powers while Alexander was locked in a coma but could place his mind into any of the robots thought his mansion.

                A mansion and robots nowhere near the beach. The family couldn’t go on an outing with their robot dad walking around. It was just the four of them, well, five of them on this trip. Michael girlfriend, Sesily Inlustris, had joined them on their little weekend holiday to run away from the snow.

                “You know,” Helbis softly said.

                “Hm?”

                “I missed the days when all the guys were looking at us,” she joked, sort of.

                Gabriel sat up looking around at the endless amount of people to find most of the younger guys were staring at Sesily. She followed their gaze to the young girl who was unnaturally beautiful. Her beauty was odd because it seems almost too perfect like some artist had painted her out of his imagination. It was as if the poets of old was speaking of her when they talked about the goddess Aphrodite.

                And Gabriel couldn’t blame any of the boys or anyone staring at her. She found herself doing the same thing all the time. Sesily had a long nose that fit perfectly on her face. She had deep green eyes and smooth skin. Her hair was blonde with black under it, and she was short but the right highest for anyone. When you hugged her, it was as if she was made to be hugged by you and you alone.

                “How did Michael luck up with her?” Gabriel asked.

                “I have no idea,” Helbis said. “Raphael is a little jealous.”

                “I think I am too,” Gabriel joked. They all had boyfriends, or in the case of Raphael few girlfriends they were talking too and going out with, but none of them had anyone like Sesily. And the kicker of it all was she was deeply in love with Michael. It was nice to see. It was a good change of pace in their insane lives. Most of them had a hard time keeping relationships going because they were always jumping around the world on missions, saving the world, and not being able to talk about it with the person they were with because most people wouldn’t believe them. They had to lie all the time, and you can’t have a relationship built on lies.

                Michael told Sesily everything about his life as a hero, against the will of their father and General Vernon Cain, head of Paladin. They both sat down with Sesily when they found out she knew far too much for any civilian and explained to her how she couldn’t tell a soul about any of it. She didn’t even tell her father what Michael and his family did for a living. None of her short list of friends knew what her boyfriend did or where she was going with them most the time. General Cain had monitored her whole life for months until he started to trust her. Now he was only keeping an eye on her text messages, phone calls, and anything she posted or said online. She could walk freely around her hometown without someone following her.

                Not that she knew anyone was following her or keeping tabs on her. The agents of Paladin spent their lives as spies and knew how not to be seen.

                “He’ll get over it,” Gabriel said laying back down.

                “I hope so,” Helbis said. “Is he okay?”

                “I don’t know,” she told her sister, “but it’s just good to have him around.”

                “Is he still mad at me?” Helbis asked.

                “I don’t think so,” Gabriel said.

                “That’s good.” Helbis asked, “We going out tonight? All of us?”

                Gabriel grin.” Let’s see what Sydney has to offer.”

 

~

The Talon family ate dinner together at a small fish place near the beach and enjoy chatting with each other until the sun went all the way down. Sesily had easily fallen into place with the family. They all laughed at her jokes and acted as she had always been in their lives. Michael wondered if easily accepting people into the fold was a byproduct of having an adopted sister. Helbis in his mind had always been in his life, and he couldn’t place a time when she was not around them. There were a few photos on the walls in the house without her, but Michael would have to double take when walking by them because in his mind’s eye she was in them all.

                He was overjoyed to have her back in the family. It was like having his best friend back in his life. He smiled big looking at her and Sesily’s hand resting on him under the table as dinner went on. The night was young but perfect; nothing could ruin it.

                Except for the fact he and Sesily couldn’t get into any of the bars or clubs which Gabriel seem very unhappy about talking to the doorman. She turned to face them pointing right at Michael and said, “If I let you guys go off by yourself you will keep your phone on you the whole time, right?”

                “Right.”

                “And you both will behave yourself,” she said glaring at them.

                “Yes,” Sesily said with a smile and a childlike voice. It was the nature way she spoke which at first caught some people off guard, but Michael enjoy it. “I’ll keep him line.”

                Gabriel led in whispering into Michaela’s ear, “Take her for a nice long walk on the beach.”

                He smiled and said, “Will do.”

                “And for the love of God,” she said breaking away, “Don’t be like your brother, act like a gentleman,” but Gabriel always said, gentleman, like she was saying jelly beans.

                “Hey, I like jelly beans,” Raphael yell from behind her.

                “Not what I said,” Gabriel told him spinning on her heels in her blue summer dress.

                “I know,” he smiled, “but they are better than that gentleman thing you said.” He told both of his sisters as they walked into the club.

                Michael held out his arm and asked, “Shall we my love?”

                “Oh yes, we shall,” she said taking his arm, “my good sir,” adding a deep southern accent to the last part. They both laughed walking away from the club and heading for the beach. They held each other’s hands as they walked barefoot on the sands. It was nice having some a long time for once, even though they got it all the time back at home. Gabriel put up a good front up, but she normally trusted her little brother, and for the most part, she was right to do so. They had kissed, made out, and did a little bit more but nothing like some the friends they both knew. They hadn’t gone all the way, close to it, but they both stopped knowing they were not ready for it.

                It made the relationship easier Michael quickly found; he didn’t have to worry about sex all the time. He could instead enjoy being with Sesily for the sake of being with her. It was nice.

                He stares up at the night sky watching the stars dance around wondering what it was like to see the world from their point of view.

                “You are always looking up,” Sesily said.

                “It’s too perfect not too,” he said.

                “You know it’s dangerous to always been watching the sky,” she told him.

                He smirked. “My father would say the same thing.”

                “Well, your father is a smart man.”

                “He sure is,” Michael agrees. “My mother was the one who always told me to look up from time to time.”

                “Why?”

                “In the hopes, you could see the angels looking down at you,” he said dropping his eyes to her deep green ones. She brushed a little and creaked a tiny smile as he kissed her. “Guess, I can stop looking up now, huh?”

                She giggled and said, “You know that is cheesy.”

                “Yeah, but it was good?”

                She laughed and nodded yes. “It was nice,” and she kissed him again.

                “It would have been nice to meet your mother,” she said.

                “Ah, she would have loved you.”

                “You think so?”

                “Well,” he said, “if you could win Gabriel over then you could win my mother over as well. They are a lot like.”

                “That good to know,” Sesily said. “I really like your family.”

                “They seem to like you as well.”

                She smiled as a big as she could pushing some of her hair around her ear.

                They both looked up into the sky watching the stars, and after a while, they ended up laying in the sands doing the same thing. Sesily rested on his large arm with her hand on his chest wishing for this night to never end.

                From time to time they would hear a few men cackle a few yards away. There was two of them walking drinking heavily and making a crude joke about any women they saw on the beach. Michael paid them no mind knowing better than anyone he could handle himself if they tried to start anything.

                He sat up in the sands feeling his phone go off. He shot up looking down at his lover and nodded he was going to walk away from the waves. She smiled stretching out on the sand. He pulled the phone out and asked, “Yes?”

                “Everything good?” Gabriel spoke loudly with the constant thump of the music behind her.

                “Yeah,” he said. “Where are you?”

                “In the bathroom,” she said. “I just wanted to check up on you. Where on you?”

                He stepped closer to the dull sand kicking some of it around.  “On the beach.”

                “She likes it?”

                “Yeah, she loves it,” he said. “She found some seashells to make necklaces out of for everyone.”

                “That’s nice,” Gabriel said.

                “Sure is,” Michael said spinning around on his heels to look at Sesily. He stopped dead seeing the two men walking around her talking to her. They weren’t touching her, but they were close and made her uncomfortable. She was on her feet trying to get away from them.

                “I’m not sure what tim---”

                “I’ll call you right back,” Michael said with an eerily calm voice and hung up. He put the phone back into his pocket walking up to the men.

                “You want to drink with us, baby?” One of the men asked.

                “No, she does not,” Michael told them both squaring his shoulders up to show his massive body. One of the men seems a little bigger than him, but Michael doubted he had super strength in his muscles.

                The man who spoke rose his hand holding a beer and said, “Ah sorry mate, this your pet.”

                “I’m no one’s pet,” Sesily said making her way over to Michael. She didn’t stand behind him but right by his side.

                “Sorry, love,” the drunk man bark. “We can make it up to you by buying you drink if you like.”

                “She is underage,” Michael said. “And it isn’t creepy of you guys to be hitting on her.”

                “Yeah, well, what are you going to do about it, big man?” The musclehead said stepping closer to him as his drunk friend circle around them. They were both a little too close for comfort.

                “Nothing, man,” Michael said. “We just want to be left alone.”

                “A girl like her should be with a real man,” the guy in Michael’s face said. “We can teach her a thing or two and maybe, you as well.” He said poking Michael in his chest.

                “I don’t want to hear you.”

                He laughed. “Like you could.”

                “Just go about your night and leave us to our,” he said.

                “Hey, hands off,” Sesily said punching the drunk man right in the face. He must have moved around on them without either one of them noticing. Her tiny fists met his nose shattering it as the guy fell back crying out. Everyone was a little shock at how strong the tiny girl seems to be, and something told all of them she was holding back.

                The big man’s teeth started to show like a mad dog as his hand shot out taking her by the hair. For a quick moment, Michael saw red, and the man was one the guy trying to cry. His arm was broken by Michael grabbing him and his jaw smashed by his punch. The man laid on the ground with Michael hitting him in the face with as little might as he could put behind his blows. If he wanted to him could punch right through the poor fool’s head, just for now he wouldn’t be able to talk for six months, use his arm for longer, and maybe, need a new nose.

                “Michael,” Sesily yelled. “Stop, don’t kill him.”

                Michael stopped his fist falling on the man staring right at his girlfriend with blood dripping from his hand. He calmly and slowly stepped away from the body and looked dead at Sesily. He blinked a couple of time letting the rage fade away and then looked at the bloody face of the man.

                “We should call for help,” was all he could say before tears rushed out of his eyes. His jaw locked in place and the horrible fact he could have killed a man he didn’t know sat uncomfortably in his mind like a nail in his boot.

 

~

 

 “You almost kill that man,” Gabriel yelled at Michael standing in the private jet their father built. The jet was high over the ocean now heading back home with Gabriel mad at her little brother. They had to pick him up at the police station. Raphael took a picture of him behind bars and made jokes about it all the way to the airport until Gabriel told him to be quiet.

                No one else said a word the whole ride. Sesily held his hand but wouldn’t look at him. They all filed into the plane as it took off. Once it was in the air, Gabriel came out of the cockpit and started yelling at Michael.

                “What were you thinking?” She asked, and the giant of a man wouldn’t look her in the eyes like a puppy who ate something he shouldn’t have. He stared down at his feet while the love of his life sat across from him balled up and silently crying. “You should know better.”

                “How bad is the man?” Michael asked.

                “His name Andrew,” she said, “never forget his name.”

                “How bad did I hurt him?”

                “Well,” Raphael said, “he won’t be taking any photos for a few years and will be in the hospital for a few months.”

                “But he is alive?” Michael asked. “No permeant damages?”

                “As of right now,” Raphael said, “no.”

                “Thank the Lord.”

                “Damn right,” Gabriel said. “You are very lucky that man is not dead. You know you can’t lose control you are too powerful to do something that stupid. What if you hurt Ses?” Gabriel asked thumbing back at her.

                “I won’t d---”

                “What if she tried to stop you and you pushed her out of the way?” Gabriel asked with her hands on her hips. “You could have hurt her as well.”

                Michael didn’t say a word and stared at her green eyes. Did she try to stop him? He couldn’t recall. He remembers her yelling, but that was about it. He saw red and didn’t come to until he heard his name being called by her sweet voice.

                “I didn’t think about that.”

                “You didn’t think at all,” Gabriel yelled.

                Michael went back to staring at his feet.

                “I can’t bel---” Gabriel started to say, but Helbis voice cut her off.

                “I need you in the cockpit, we have a call,” Helbis said from the overhead speakers.

                She pointed right at Michael and order, “Don’t move.”

                He didn’t move and didn’t look up from his feet. All he could think about was what if he killed that man. What if he didn’t stop punching him? What if he didn’t stop in time? He could still see the blood on his knuckles and wonder why they didn’t hurt. He could always recall before he gained his power how fighting hurt his hands. Sometimes he even broke bones without knowing it until days later. He like fighting, feeling the pain, and the rules of it all. He boxed and did what other martial arts his family was into for the time and love it all.

                Now, he could fight for hours and not feel the pain. His bones had to adjust to his unbelievable strength making them almost unbreakable as well. He didn’t hurt anymore when he hit something, but that man’s face would hit for years to come.

                He hates he could have killed him, but there was a part of them that knew he did the right thing. He was doing what was asked of him being a gentleman. They were going to hurt Sesily, and he couldn’t stand there doing anything. No, he knew he did the right thing, so why did he feel so bad about it?

                “You know,” Raphael said, “I would have done the same thing.”

                Michael looked up at him.

                “I think you did the right thing,” he said heading for the cockpit trying to give his little brother some time alone with his girlfriend.

                Before Raphael was out of the room, Sesily was next to him warping her arms around him and putting her head on his shoulder. “You okay?” She asked.

                “I don’t know,” he said.

                She took one of his hand rubbing them and telling him, “It was really brave what you did for me.”

                “I wasn’t going to let them hurt you.”

                She kissed him on the cheek. “I know.”

                “But I could have hurt you,” he said.

                “I wasn’t going to let you,” she said. “That’s why I yelled and didn’t try to touch you.”

                “At least one of us was smart,” he said. “I have never been that angry before in my life. It was scary.” He bites back some tears knowing if he killed that man he wouldn’t have felt bad about for years. He started to bounce one of his legs. “You were screaming, and I came too to see your face. I stopped because the look in your eyes, but Sesily,” he stared right at her, “I wanted to kill that man for touching you.”

                “I know.”

                “No, I mean it,” he said. “It was taking everything in me not to break his neck.”

                She didn’t say a word to him.

                He looked away and said, “I believe I, we, got these powers to do some good in the world. I want to help people, save them if I could but not that man.”

                “It’s something I like about you.”

                He told her letting one tear run down his cheek, “I didn’t want to be good anymore. I want to rip that guy head off, and the terrifying thing is I knew I could do it without any problem.”

                She garbed tight around his hand and said, “But you didn’t.”

                “Because you were there,” he said. “What if I get that mad again and you are not around?”

                “You will do the right thing,” she said, “because you are a good person. The best person I know.”

                “That is really sad, you know?”

                “No, it is no---”

                Gabriel came back out of the cockpit stopping her some saying anything else. She stopped right in front of them staring right at Sesily. She was mad, but something else was going on now.

                “We have a mission,” she said. “But I don’t have time to take you home.”

                “Okay.”

                “You are going to be okay with staying on the plane?” She asked. “Not going to try and follow us?”

                “No,” Sesily shook her head. “I’m good here. I don’t want to get into a fight.”

                “Good,” Gabriel said and turned to face her brother. “That means she will be safe and you can focus on the mission.”

                “Yes, ma’am,” he said.

                “What I like to hear.”

                “So, what is the mission?” Michael asked.

 

(Writer’s Notes: I find myself in these kinds of problems when writing stories close to my life. Not saying I have super powers or that my family saves the world daily, we don’t, but the events over the last couple of parts of the story is something I have deal with in my life before. I am a big man and I am a calm man but when I get mad … well, I don’t turn green, but I do see red. So, I asked myself what would happen if I got mad and had super strength to boot? I believe, it would be along the lines of what has happened to Michael and I know, some of my family would have handle it the same way too. I like how close it is to my life but at the same time I don’t want people to read me into the story. I am not Michael by any means and yet, part of the writer must be in their work. I guess, there is no way around it.

It was pointed out to me the other day when I was telling my best friend Amber about the Talons, that my family is what I have based them off of without knowing it. Amber is like a sister to me and my family has accepted her into the fold like she was one of us. Sometime, the to point where my mother will call me wanting to know what to get her for Christmas before she asks me what I want. It is funny to pick on her about, but I never mind. It shows me how much my best friend is a part of this family.

And it also shows me how much I have based the Talons off of my family. Amber is the adopted sister while everyone else is easy to see where I got the ideas. Gabriel is my sister. Raphael is my brother and Michael is me to some degree, even if I don’t like it. The truth is the truth no point in hiding from it.)

 

~

 

The governor of New Orleans was trying his best to keep the sickness nickname the Blue Kiss out of the papers and off the new. He was trying to tell everyone whatever was being said online was a lie or crazy conspiracy theories, none of it was real, none of it was true. Even if the family of the fifteen dead were screaming to the hilltops of about the sickness plaguing the poor area of the city, he said it was all a lie. The more they spoke, the more the governor moved on the warpath to stop them.

                While the governor was trying to keep the Blue Kiss out of the public’s mind, Paladin was working hard on trying to find a cruse for the disease, but nothing was working. They tried everything from known sciences to the mystical arts and yet, nothing. More people were getting sick, and a few were close to dying, but they were all in a small area of the city.

Paladin knew it was only a matter of time before the city blew up and everything went wrong. They would let the governor take the hit, and the government eats the damage, their main concern was the people, and if the disease started to spread. Soon Paladin or the government was going to have to lock the city down; it was only a matter of time.

Paladin started to call in a few of their units to help find a cure and where this sickness came from in the city. If they can track it back to the source, then maybe they can stop the disease.

“So, who is all here?” Raphael asked in the car.

“Some of the Twelve,” Helbis read from her phone, “the Mighty Men ---” Both Raphael and Michael smirked a little at the name. She sighed rolling her eyes, “and Gawain’s Marauders.”

                “Wonder who is going to get in our way,” Raphael said.

                “Cain said we are staying out of each other’s way,” Gabriel said. “Each team have their leads to follow.”

                “We shall see,” Raphael said checking his phone to read some girl texting him.

                Gabriel turns the call right following the GPS built in the windshield as Michael stared out the window. They were heading down into the old part of the city to talk to some of the old folk who hadn’t been affected by the sickness, even if they were around people who were dying. The Blue Kiss only plagued the young and could only be transferred by touch or kissing. Most of the young people had gained it from kissing turning their lips blues giving the disease its name. 

                The night sky opens letting the rain march along with them, and he didn’t think about the blood on his hand or the man. Now, wasn’t the time for him to dwell on anything but the mission. If let he emotion get the better of him on a mission then someone could end up dead, and not just some guy he hated, one of his family could die. And yet, the man’s bloody face kept dancing across the window as he looked out it. He still wanted to kill him.

                His phone lights up from inside his jeans pocket, and he pulled it out to read the text from Sesily, “You okay?”

                “I’m fine,” he wrote back. “You?”

                “A little bored but not too bad,” she said.

                “There should be some books in the back,” he told her. “There is also some of my comics back there too, and you can watch TV.”

                “I hate TV,” she said, “but I’ll find me something to read.”

                “Sounds good, love.” He smiled down at his phone and then glancing up to see Gabriel watching him in the mirror, she didn’t say a word. “Hey love, if I go dark for a while it’s because I’m out of the car, so don’t worry.”

                “Oh, I’m going to worry,” she texted back, “but I understand. Be safe and love you.”

                All he could write back in time was, I love you too before the car came to a stop. “Heads in-game,” Gabriel said cutting the car off. Everyone looked around the street seeing the small row of shops, cafés, and bars. The buildings were old and a little run down, but somehow all this gave the street some character. It was nice to see a place where real people live, and everything wasn’t so nice looking all the time, even if the streets were empty. It was odd to see the place dead on a Friday night.

                Where were all the people enjoying the music?

                Where were the couples walking the streets holding each other hands?

                Hiding in their houses away from the sickness walking around looking to steal a life.

                Gabriel turned in her seat and said, “Alright, we gather what we can from anyone who is willing to talk to us.”

                They all nodded.

                “The Twelve think this disease is magical somehow,” she said, “so let’s see if they are right.”

                “They always think magic is the cause,” Helbis said.

                “I know, I know,” Gabriel agrees. “Also, be careful there are reports some the gangs are at each other’s throat, so watch your back.”

                They all stepped out of the car at the same time. Michael put his hands into his black leather jacket waiting for Helbis to lead the way. Whenever the family split up it was always Michael and Helbis while the other two when with each other, this time was no different.

                Gabriel locked the car, a car far too nice for the area and said before walking away, “Check in every twenty minutes.”

                “Alright,” Helbis said walking away from the car and them. Michael followed beside her glancing up at the rain clouds.

                “You alright?” She asked making him come back to earth.

                “I don’t know,” he said with a shrugged. “I feel bad for what I did.”

                Helbis creaked a smirk and said, “No you don’t.”

                “I ---” he started to lie. “I am not upset about hurting that guy.”

                “Then what is wrong?” She asked knowing where they were going which was away from the market street to someplace else.

                “I wanted to kill him.”

                Helbis stared at him.

                “I didn’t want to hurt him,” he said with dead calm in his tone, “I wanted to kill him.”

                “Can’t blame you there,” she said, “but good thing you didn’t.”

                “I just never,” he said fighting back his jaw trying to lock up, “felt �" not hate �" just bloodlust.”

                She stopped staring right at him and putting her hand on his shoulder. “You didn’t kill him. You may want too, but you did not because you are a good person. Just next time go a little easy on someone’s face.”

                He smiled a little and said, “While, hopefully, there won’t be a next time.”

                “Let’s hope,” she agreed starting to walk back down the road.

                “Where are we going?” he asked.

                “Not to a place good at all.”

 

~

 

Helbis was more than right about the house Michael, and she ended up at, it was not a good place at all. There were a few black men standing outside the house with shotguns at the ready. They all stood up as they came up to the steps and were not happy to see them.

                “What do you want?” The biggest man asked with a green bandana over his head with a cross on it. All the other guys had the same bandana, but most of them had it around their necks.

                “To help,” Helbis said.

                “Get out of here,” The man said waving them along.

                Michael stepped forward and said, “Come on, man, we are here to help.”

                “No care to help us,” one the guys said.

                “We do,” Helbis told him.

                “Sure,” the big man said with a grin, “and I’m Superman.”

                Michael walked up the steps standing in front of him making them both look about the same size. The man backed up a little keeping his shotgun resting in his hand. “We are going to help, and we are going into that house,” Michael told him, glancing back at Helbis who nodded yes to him.

                “You are going to make me move, son?” the man growled stepping up to be face to face with the sixteen-year-old.

                Michael grin at him. “As you wish, man.” Before the man could remark, he was being lifted off his feet by one had and easily tossed out into the road. He hit the ground like a baseball lightly being tossed, and it took him a second to get to his feet. He turns around to see Helbis smiled at him and fear ran over his face. All his friends didn’t know what to do as Michael creaked his knuckles and asked, “We can go a few rounds if you would like?”

                “No,” the big man said. “Don’t hurt us, freak.”

                “We are not here to hurt you,” Helbis told him. “We are here to help.”

                “Are you now?” A woman asked standing in the door of the house.

                Michael and Helbis turn to face her as the men backed away they seem to fear her more than anyone else. She was a tall woman with long black hair and a thin body. She wasn’t young but wasn’t old like the wisdom in her suggested. She crossed her arms and never smiled.

                “Yes, ma’am,” Michael said,” we have been sent to help you, all of you.”

                “Sent by whom?” She asked.

                “I’m afraid we can’t say,” Helbis said walking up beside her brother. “But they want to help. We have teams all over the city trying to find a way to stop the disease.”

                “Why should I believe you?” She asked.

                “Because to be honest,” Helbis remarked, “you don’t have much of choice.”

                The woman cocked an eyebrow nodding in agreement. “Fine, fine,” she said. “I’m Sister Juliana Falconieri.”

                “You are a nun?” Michael asked following her into the house.

                She laughed. “No, it’s just a name.”

                “I am Michael Talon,” he said, “and this is Helbis Talon.”

                She glanced over her shoulder with the question written all over her face. “Yes, she is my sister,” he said.

                “Alright,” Juliana said. “I’ve seen stranger things.”

                They walked down the small hallway of the house heading for the kitchen in the back hearing the coughing all around them and smelling the sick in the air. Michael stopped looking to the living room where a few teenagers laid warped in a deep fever. There were a few older ladies taking care of the sick, and they glared at Michael.

                “Keep moving,” Helbis whispered to him.

                “Would you like something to drink?” Juliana asked standing beside the counter in the kitchen. There were medical supplies all over the counters and table. It looked more like a hospital in a third world country than a suburban kitchen and Michael had seen his few shares of that kind of hospitals.

                “No thank you,” Helbis said standing a little behind her brother’s large shoulders.

                “So,” Juliana asked, “what can I do for you?”

                She didn’t have to ask how they found out about her house; word ran quickly through the city, she was taking care of those who could not take of themselves. She was at a point in time a top doctor in New York City or so the filed read but then quiet when her mother got sick. She moved back home to take care of her dying mother and never left. She started helping everyone who would show up at her door; the homeless, the gang bangers, and even the old man down the road. She wanted to help, and that was all.

                “Neither one of you look hurt,” she said lighting up a cigarette.

                “What do you know of this Blue Kiss?” Helbis asked stepping around her brother.

                “It’s like nothing I have seen before,” she said. “Some of the medicine will keep the fevers down, but it slowly kills over time.”

                “Any idea where it came from?” She asked.

                She shrugged and said, “Not really. I don’t have a lab here to find out, but some of the old timers here say they have heard stories of it before.”

                “Stories?” Helbis asked.

                “Mostly, superstition,” Juliana said, “but they said the Blue Kiss comes from the Voodoo Man.”

                “Uh?” She started to ask.

                But Juliana was already explaining herself, “It’s like the devil or something. I don’t know, but it scared a lot of people around here. Blue Kiss is the mark he uses to feed off the souls of the young.”

                “Why?” Michael asked.

                She smirks. “I don’t know; he is evil or something. It’s just what the story says he does. It’s not real.”

                “Right,” Helbis agree looking back at her brother. “Not real.”

                “Why haven’t you told this to anyone else?” He asked.

                “As if anyone else comes down here,” she told him. “They wouldn’t listen anyway. They don’t care about this people. The only people who care about what is going on in these streets are the people on them. Everyone else just turns a blind eye.”

                “Expect you,” Helbis said.

                “Yeah, expect me,” she hissed.

                “What else do you know about this Voodoo Man?” Michael asked.

                “Son, nothing.” She then stopped and said, “Well, that is not completely true, I know three things. First, some of the gangs have come together in his name. They call themselves the Blue Voodoo Kids. Second, there is an old house not too far from here where the gangs would hold their meeting, but everyone said it was the house of Voodoo Man, and third, he is not real.”

                “Yes, right,” Michael nodded. “Do you know who first came down with the sickness?”

                “Yeah, her name is ---”

                Helbis ears shot up like a cat’s. She could hear better than anyone in the room. It was the plus to the magical tattoos on her arms and legs. They give her enhanced abilities like a cat and the lovely power to turn into a black cat if she wished. But she hears the car down the road speed up and the men outside rushing to get down.

                Before they started yelling she had already jump across the room knocking Juliana to the floor and yelling for Michael to get down.

                He hit the floor right when the bullets started cutting through the walls pulling the cries of fear with them. A moment later the firing had stopped, but the crying had not, and Michael rolled to his feet.

                “You okay?” Helbis asked helping Juliana up, but she didn’t care to answer her. She was already on her feet running out of the room trying to find out who was hit in the drive-by, and Michael was on the phone with 9-1-1 just as fast.

                  “Address?” He asked himself and Helbis. She held up her phone showing him the GPS, and he repeated the address on the screen. He hung up quickly afterward and asked, “Should we help?”

                A few people were running around trying to grab things and help the wounded. They both stepped out of the way watching in awe. “No,” she said with regret. “We can’t touch any of the young or we might get sick.”

                “Crap.”

                They walked outside hearing the screams of the police and ambulance racing to save lives. A few of the men outside had been wounded but were alive. Blood was running down the steps, and Michael hopes they would live through the night. Juliana sat over the big man plunging a hole in his chest with a gauze. She stared up at them and growled, “This was the Voodoo Kids.”

                “Where do they stay?” Michael asked with a deep frown on his face. “We’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

                “Frederick,” she yelled, and a thin man walked up to them, “tell them everything you know about the Voodoo Kids.”

                “But ma’am,” Frederick said, “we are going to handle them ourselves.”

                “Tell them,” she screamed tired of seeing her people die.

                “Yes, ma’am,” and he gave them the house where the Voodoo Kids hung out most the time. He warns them some of the other gangs were going to attack the house soon, once word got out about Sister Juliana being hit it was going to be an all-out war.

                “Thank you,” Helbis said as the cops pulled up to the house rushing out of their cars to help. There were a lot more cops then normally, but Michael guesses even they liked Sister Juliana. They stood around for a while watching and making sure things went fine. The cops tried to ask them a few questions, but Michael gives them his call sign, and then they left them alone.

                “Gabriel wants us to meet back with her,” Helbis said.

                “Hey,” Juliana said walking up to them. “Thanks for saving my life.”

                Helbis smile and said, “Wish we could do more.”

                “No, I understand,” Juliana said, “don’t want to get sick. I get you, but you need to find a girl named Chelsea Mays. People say she was the first one to have the kiss.”

                “Thank you again,” Helbis said, “and good luck.”

 

(Writer’s Notes: Here is the place I’m not sure the plot is working out the way I wish it would because I have to fix it within the short story. I could and have planned to use this plot for a whole novel, and I’m starting to see why I should have written it as a novel. So, hey, maybe, you are getting to the outline/ the first draft for an upcoming novel, who knows?)

 

~

 

Sesily laid back on the couch on the plane listening to her music drown out the world around her. She tapped her black and green converse to the beat of the song, enjoying her life at the moment. She loved being here a part of this family who easily welcomed her into their lives. Helbis was still a little put off by her, but she understood. She and Michael have always been close, and now Sesily was taking time away from them, but she was happy to see her little brother in love.

                 For a second Sesily couldn’t believe she was in love with them. She had her eyes closed thinking about the first time they kissed. It wasn't planned, and it didn’t even come across her mind at all, but then again aren’t the best kisses never planned. They were walking in the woods near his home when he stopped at the top of the hill staring into her eyes. Then he leans in kissing her and making her heart river dance across her stomach. He was her first kiss, and it was a kiss she would never forget in her long life.

                She smiled at the thought.

                How odd, she thought, that this place is not her home, and yet, she found love her. Ture love not like the love her father wanted to use her for, no, here she found someone who cared deeply for her. Life has a funny way of working out in the end, she grins.

                “Don’t be too much of a fool,” a voice said into her mind.

                “What are you doing here?” She asked, never opening her eyes. “I did not welcome you into my space.”

                “I know, I know,” the man said walking around inside her skull, “but my job is to protect you, so I am.”

                “Sounds more like your checking in on me,” she hissed at him.

                “I am,” he nodded. “It is a part of my duty.”

                “Well,” she told him, “I am fine and safe. I’m chilling on the jet right now.”

                “I know that,” he said. “But the events the other night were too close. When you broke that man’s nose ---”

                “He deserved it,” she said.

                “You use some of Michael’s strength,” the voice said.

                “I was aware of it,” she said still moving her foot hoping to drown out his voice, but there was no way of doing it. The man was inside of her, a part of her soul and a part she did not ask for but never-the-less he was there always louder than the music. Music which she so desperately loved. “I have been trained all my life to be aware of it.”

                “It is why you held back,” the man said, “I understand that, but there might come a time when you can no longer hold back, and then what?”

                “Then I’ll do what I must.”

                “And if these people are around?” He asked.” What are you doing to tell them? You are going to tell them the truth?”

                She said nothing. She thought nothing.

                “I told you we should have never got involved with this family.”

                “And if they come looking for me?” Sesily asked. “If my family tries to find me? You can’t fight them alone.”

                “We could run,” he said.

                “We can’t run forever,” she said.

                “So, you find a family of heroes to help you then?” He asked.

                “It’s wasn’t my plan,” she told him.

                “And this love?” He asked. “A part of the plan now?”

                She opened her eyes and sat up growling, “Never ask me that question again.”

                “Sorry my princess,” he said softly walking back out of her mind.

                She shook her head wishing her father never gave her a Soul Guard, but there was nothing she could do about it now. He did save her life more times than either one of them could count. She glanced around the plane seeing she was alone and wondered how they were doing out on the mission.

                Maybe, if she told them the truth, they would let her join them. She could be fighting alongside Michael, that’s if they believe her, and it was best not to use her powers too much. The more she used her powers, the more of a chance her family would find her. She never wants to see them again nor did she ever want to go home again.

                Her new home was here with the Talon family, and she loves it. She smiled looking down at the floor and telling her they cared for her too. She dropped back on the couch laying on her side closing her eyes. She could sleep at ease here. She was safe with dreams of a new life. She smiled falling asleep like she did every time she was around them and most of all Michael.

 

~

Michael checked his phone sending a short but sweet text to Sesily and then slipped it back into his pocket. Helbis rose an eyebrow as they walked down the road but didn’t say a word. “Sorry,” he said.

                “As long as your head is in the game,” She told him. “I don’t care.”

                “It is,” he said.

                “Better be,” she said with a sly grin.

                “Do you like her?” Michael asked looking up at the darkening sky with a sweet foreshadowing of rain. The moisture hung in the air like a thick cloud, and they could smell it where ever they went. It would be nice to feel the rain. It would be nice for them but not so much for Gabriel. Turning invisible would do her no good in the rain because she would be easy to see. Hopefully, they handle the mission before the rain started to paint the world.

Gabriel and Raphael went to “talk” to the Voodoo Kids, while they got the mission to find this Chelsea Mays.

                They looked her up, and the only address was a few blocks away. It seems to be her mother’s house; her father was nowhere to be found. It was where they were heading now, hopefully talking to her mother would be easy.

                “I do,” Helbis said.

                Michael smiled and said, “Good. I think I really love her.”

                Helbis bite back a grimace but keep her mouth shut.

                “What?”

                “Nothing,” she said.

                “Come on tell me,” Michael pushed her.

                “You are young,” she said.

                “Not that young.”

                “But young never the less,” she said, “and you should fall madly in love but just be ready if it doesn’t work out. I hope it does, I also know that is very rare for those things to work out in the long run.”

                “So, you don’t want it to work out?”

                “That is not at all what I said,” she pointed at him with a flat stare. “I’m saying enjoy it, but if it ends, it is alright.”

                “Sure,” he said rolling his eyes.

                “Come on,” she hissed back playfully, “you asked me.”

                “I did, I know.” It was the number one rule of the family if you asked someone for their blunt opinion you got it and if you didn’t want it then don’t ask. Michael asked, and he had to accept Helbis’s opinion, even if didn’t like it.

                 Helbis glanced down at her phone stopping in front of a small house. A single light burns in the window from a small TV, they walked up to the door and knocked. “Hopefully,” said looking back at Michael as the rain started to dance behind them, “this will be easy.”

                A mid-age woman opens the door staring hard at them both keeping one hand hidden behind the door; more than likely it with a firearm, but Helbis didn’t mind. In this neighborhood having a weapon was the best way to be safe. “What do you want?” She hissed at them.

                Helbis smiled big and said, “Hello, I am Helbis Talon, and this is my little brother, Michael.” Mrs. Mays raised an eyebrow looking back and forth at them both but said nothing about the physical differences. “Are the mother of Chelsea Mays?”

                “Oh god,” the woman cried, “what happens to her? Is she dead?”

                “No ma’am, I don’t believe so,” Helbis said. “May we come in?”

                “Are you the cops?” She asked them.

                “No, ma’am,” Michael said, “but we are with the government.”

                “Like F.B.I?”

                “Something like that, ma’am,” Helbis smiled again.

                Mrs. Mays studies them for a quick moment then slip her pistol into her bathrobe and open the door all the way. She stepped out of the way as they both enter making sure she was behind them. They glanced around the short hallway seeing family pictures eyeing ones of the young teenagers.

                “So, what is going on with Chelsea?” Mrs. Mays asked.

                “We need to find her,” Michael said following his sister into the living room.

                “Why?” Mrs. Mays asked.

                “We believe she was the first person to have the Blue Kiss,” Helbis told her turning around to face her.

                “That can’t be the case,” Mrs. Mays told them, “then she would be dead, right?”

                “There might not be a case,” Helbis said.

                “No, no,” Mrs. Mays said sitting down in the chair like some thought had exploded into her mind.

                “Ma’am?” Helbis asked looking over at Michael.

                “She rushed in a week or so ago, grabbing something, and crying,” Mrs. Mays said. “She won’t look at me and won’t tell me anything other than she was staying with Maggie Streets for a while.” She started to cry. “What if she has it? What if she died over there?”

                “I doubted it, ma’am,” Michael said. “I’m sure someone would have called you.”

                Helbis nodded at the needles on the small table beside the chair. There was a couple of them, and one even had black drugs in it. Mrs. Mays looked like a well put together woman, but she was a hardcore addict.

                “Michael do you know what day it is?” Helbis asked.

                “No,” he shook his head wondering where she was going with the question.

                “What about you, Mrs. Mays?” Helbis asked. “You know what day it is?”

                Mrs. Mays stopped the tears thinking for a moment, also wanting to know why she asked the silly question now and said, “Monday.”

                “Right, Monday,” Helbis nodded, but it wasn’t anywhere close to Monday. It was late Thursday night which told them both Mrs. Mays here was high or coming down from a high. Chelsea could be god knows where by now, and this woman would have no idea.

                Michael crossed his arms as Helbis asked, “When did Chelsea come in?”

                “Friday night,” Mrs. Mays said.

                “Ah, right,” she said nodding over to Michael to go check upstairs to find the girl’s room.

He slowly backed away as Mrs. Mays asked, “Who are you people again and why are you here?”

He made it upstairs looking around at the three-bedrooms slowly opening their doors. The one cover in a mess was his pick for the teenager, it reminded him of Gabriel’s room. He stepped in over the mess of seeing someone had picked clothes fasted. He stood for a moment in the space which wasn’t his and wished he was somewhere else. He could feel this girl moving around the room like a ghost. It was wrong to be here without permission, but it was a part of the job.

He walked over to the small writing desk finding a letter sitting on top and out in the open with the word ‘Mom’ went on it. He opens slowly knowing the words were not for him, but for the drugged-out mother down below. The poor girl grew up in this life and now, he was reading a letter, a farewell letter, to her dying mother. He wished he was someone else at this moment.

Michael stepped out on the pouch sighing and watching the rain cool the night off. He loved the rain, always had since he was a child. He and his mother would sit outside watching the rain and lightning for hours until he fell asleep. The rain always reminded him of his mother, and he grins a little at it.

                Helbis came up beside him and said, “Got an address to where Chelsea friend lives.”

                “That is good,” Michael said handing his sister the letter. “Not sure what we are going to find there.”

                She took the paper opening to read as he did his best to do the same. He had a hard time making out many of the words not because the handwriting was awful but because his mind was plagued with dyslexia making most words seem like magical ruins too him. He hated not being able to read and was trying to overcome it, but it was something which would stay with him for the rest of his life, much like his shadow.

                “This is not good,” Helbis said still reading.

                “What are you getting out of it?” He asked wanting to make sure he got the same thing.

                “She says her friend,” Helbis explained, “Maggie, summon the Devil and made a deal with him. The Devil is where the sickness is coming from, and she is sick but won’t be coming home. She knows she is going to die and is going to try to set everything right.”

                “Yeah, I saw the Devil thing too,” Michael said. “Magic?”

                “I believe so,” she said. “She kept saying something about voodoo. From what I know, which isn’t a lot, the Devil does play a role in voodoo.”

                Michael glanced over at her with a risen eyebrow. “You think it’s the real Devil? Should we get a hold of the Twelve?”

                “I don’t believe it’s the real Devil,” Helbis said pulling her phone out and texting Gabriel to see how things were going. “But it’s someone or something powerful.”

                “I hate fighting demons,” Michael sighed. “They always try to get into your head.”

                “Gabriel is on the way to pick us up.”    

 

 

~

Gabriel pulled up to the house as Michael and Helbis dashed into the back and she pulled away. “How was dealing with the Voodoo Boys?” Helbis asked.

                “They won’t be hurting anyone anytime soon,” Raphael said with a sly grin. “Paladin has them all.”

                “Good,” Helbis said.

                “We also found out,” Raphael said, “they had some magic to help them out.”

                “Yeah that makes sense,” Helbis said handing him the letter. Michael didn’t say a word staring out the window feeling Gabriel’s eyes on him. She wasn’t talking either, but she was trying her best to keep him out of combat. She didn’t want him to fight too afraid he would lose it and hurt someone, although that there might not be a choice coming soon.

                “Great,” Raphael said folding the letter up. “Someone summoned something.”

                “Looks that way,” Helbis said. “The question is where did they do it at?”

                “We might know,” Raphael said. “The leader of the gang said his master live at the Devil’s house.”

                “That sounds like the last place I want to go,” Helbis said.

                “It’s a house,” he said, “on the street with no name, but luckily some folks told us where it could be found.”

                “I bet you that’s where these girls are,” Helbis said. “Maybe, we can save them.”

                “Let’s hope,” Raphael said.

                “You going to be okay?” Gabriel asked Michael.

                He looked over at her green eyes in the mirror. He wrinkled his brow and said, “Yeah, why?”

                “You keep everything under control?” She asked. Raphael and Helbis looked away or try to become as small as they could in their seats.

                “Yes, of course,” he shot back.

                “Really?” Gabriel barked, “How do I know that? You hurt that man, what is going to happen when you are fighting someone who is trying to kill us?”

                “I’ll stop them.”

                “By killing them?” She asked.

                “No, never,” he said. “Look, I know what I did, and I won’t do it again. That man went after someone I loved, and I stop him.”

                “Yes, yes, you did,” she said calmly, “but you don’t seem to understand how close you were to crossing a line you can’t come back from.”

                “Well, now I know, and I won’t cross it.”

                “I hope so, Michael,” she said, “because you can’t ever cross it. You are too strong to ever forget that for one moment. You could seriously kill someone and not just people who attack your loved ones too.”

                “I won’t’, Gabriel,” he said back. He was about to tell her to trust him, but he knew it would be the wrong move, so he said nothing and sat back.

                “I guess, we’ll find out.”

                The other two didn’t say a word, but Helbis padded Michael on the leg letting him know she trusts him. He had never been that mad before in life but knew it was somewhere in him. His father, Alexander, would tell both of his sons that they had his angry. His father was a quiet man normally very calm and understanding, but when he got mad, everything changed. Michael had only ever seen it once in his life. Someone guy almost ran them off the road, and Alexander dragged the man out of his car and didn’t stop hitting him until the cops showed up. He didn’t get a charge, Paladin wouldn’t allow it.

                Michael watched from the back seat locked in fear and knowing that rage was in him. He made a vow never to lose control like his father, a vow he was making again in the back of the car now. A vow he would have to keep for the rest of his life. He would never be able to break it, again.

                “You never fear the dog barking,” Alexander told him after he came home from the police station, “you fear the dog not braking because he will bite you. We have that dog inside of us.” He poked Michael in the center of his chest. “You can never let him off of the chain because you’ll bite everyone around you.”

                Michael didn’t understand what his father meant then, but now, he understood far too well. The rage in him was a monster of unbelievable power, who kill someone in one hit if it wished. He could never let it free again, ever.

                “Are we ever going to find this place?” Raphael asked breaking the silence in the car. They had been driving around in the car for over an hour now.

                “I went the way those people told us to go,” Gabriel said.

                “Maybe, they lied?” Helbis asked.

                “They wanted us to stop the sickness,” she said back to her. “It’s just this road has no name.”

                Michael glanced up at a street sign at least where it should have been. He turned in his seat noticing most of the signs were gone but not the poles. “I think we are close,” he said. “Why else try to hide the names of the roads?”

                The other didn’t notice it because they were staring down at their phones using the GPS. There was no need to watch for street names. Their GPS was far better than anything anyone else had on the face of the earth.

                “Oh, man,” Raphael said. “That’s not good.”

                They drove around a little longer until Gabriel gave up and pulled over. “I’m lost,” she hissed.

                “Yes, we are,” Raphael agreed.

                “I hate magic,” Gabriel said sitting back in her seat.

                “Me too,” Raphael added.

                “Hm, guys?” Helbis said pointing at an old run-down house. “Could that be it?”

                They looked over at the house not sure why she thought it could be the place they were looking for until they saw the letter sprayed on the front door. “Here lies the Devil.”

                “One way to find out,” Gabriel said opening her door but before she did so, she sent a coded message to Paladin letting them know she was going to check in with the hour. If she did not check, they should send a team to find her and her family.

                They all followed their sister stepping out of the car and looking around, no one was on the street, even the street lights feared to come on. The wind blew cold making them hide their hands in their pockets as they headed for the door.

                “Now it makes sense,” Helbis said out loud. “How do you find a lost house?”

                “No idea,” Raphael said.

                “You get lost,” Michael smirked.

                “Oh,” both Gabriel and Raphael said wishing they thought of that before.

                They stopped at the mail of the house studying the black windows waiting for the wind to not it over and then checked once more to see if anyone was around. Helbis could see far better than any of them because of her cat-like eyes. She also could feel the pull of dark magic in the air, but that was from her magical tattoos, not the scenes of a cat.

                “This place is bad,” she told them all.

                “I could have told you that,” Raphael remarked. “Plan?” He then asked Gabriel.

                “Check your weapons,” she told them and they all, but Michael made sure his stun guns were ready. They each carried a pistol which fires an electric bolt knocking out any foe that it hit. Michael normally carried one as well but didn’t like using it. He was far better with his hands than shooting but, not tonight. Tonight, he had to use the pistol.

                “Good,” Raphael said.

                “Also, good,” Helbis agreed.

                “Ready,” Michael added.

                “We find the girls, saved them,” Gabriel said looking at the house, “and hopefully stop this sickness, but remember, this house is magic, and it will try to mess with you.”

                “Everyone stays alive,” Raphael said as they walked toward the house.

 

(Writer’s Notes: I have many writing friends who tell me they don’t outline their stories. They sit down letting their characters led the way, and I find that odd. I like to plot out my stories and if the plot needs to change because of the characters needs then so be it, but my stories require a little more building on my part. I sometimes let the character led the scene and have done so in this part of the story. I didn’t know what Gabriel was going to say to Michael and it didn’t start to happen until I started to write which gave us a strong part of the story or, so I think.

I have been trying something different with the Talons. I will come up with a title for the story and then write a plot base on that title. After I write the synopsis of the story, I jumped into it with no outline. I enjoy doing this, but it means I’m having to wing the plot as I go and I’m not sure it’s coming out the best. You could say I’m using the short stories as a draft instead of outlines and I would agree.

If you must know this is the difference I see in plot and story; the plot is the movement of the story to get to one event after another, while the story is how the characters react to that event. You can see this clearly in the talk between Gabriel and Michael. Them being on a mission to stop some magical plague is nothing new to them, but what Michael did is the event driving the story. At least that is how I see, and it is what I do for most of my stories. It is how I work.)

 

~

(Part_10)

Michael stood alone in a room covered in blood with the bodies of chickens everywhere. He turned looking for the door but couldn’t find it the candlelight. The flames danced against the walls like a mad murder of blood-hungry crows waiting to feast on the copper smell filling the air. The blood was fresh or, so his nose told him, but he was dealing with magic, and magic could make anything seem real.

                There was something wet on his hands, something that wasn’t there before. He closed his eyes not wanting to look down and told himself to stay calm. He had to stay calm when dealing with any kind of spell. He opens his eyes lifting his hands seeing blood dripping from them. He sighed trying to keep his heart rate low. He lowers his hands back to his side looking down to see the body of the man who went to hurt Sesily. He was dead, killed by Michael’s strength. He hit the man one time sending him to the afterlife.

                “This is not real,” Michael calmly told himself.

                “You are an odd one,” a voice mixed with a girl softness and the hard tones of an elder man, who has seen too many horrors in his life said. “You and the others are not like these fools running around the city.”

                “Show yourself,” Michael said knowing he would have to get the demon’s name before he could defeat him. If it was a demon, he was dealing with in this madhouse.

                “You are not ready to see me.” The voice said.

                Michael sighed and stepped over the body heading for the closest wall. The demon or whatever this thing was, was going to play its games and he was not in the mood to play any games. He stepped up to the wall and hit it, punching a hole right into like hitting snow, and then he started pushing a hole open for him to get out of the room. Right before the hole was biggest for him a black dog with red eyes jumped at him, biting and snarling. Michael jumped back reading himself for a fight as the dog stepped into the room growing in size.       

                The dog circles him waiting for the order to attack. Michael stood in the middle of the room again not moving but waiting.

                “You came here to stop me,” the voice said, “to stop all the children from giving me life.”

                “Well, you are killing some of them.”

                “A price I’m willing to pay,” the voice said with a grin.

                “Should I ask why you are doing this?” Michael asked watching the dog’s red eyes.

                “They try to stop me once before,” the thing said. “All the people of this city came to burn my house down because I needed the souls of a few. They killed my family, my children, and I’m here to take their children, to burn their houses down once I have enough power.”

                “You could have just said revenge,” Michael hissed jumping at the dog and wrestling it to the ground. The dog fought back with all its might, but he wasn’t strong enough. Michael pin it to the floor breaking its neck watching the dog fade from existence. “You are going to have to try harder,” Michael said heading for another wall. The hole before had healed up while he was fighting the dog.

                “Oh, I see that now.”

                Michael punched the wall hearing a blood-curdling scream coming from the other side and seeing his hand painted in red. He pulled his fist back looking at the hole which was right through the wall but into the back of someone. He stepped away not believing his eyes when Raphael’s face fell in front of the hole.

                “No,” he said to himself or loud out, he was not sure anymore. “It is not real.” But it felt real to him. It felt like a person on the other side of the wall. If the monster were smart, he would have blinded him to the fact there could be one of his family members in another room trying to get free as well. He could have killed his brother, but it wasn’t real. It was all a game, a spell, not a real event. He didn’t punch a hole into his brother.

                “Did I do it?” He asked himself. He could have done it. He dropped to his knees looking at the blood on his hand.

                The voice said nothing more, but he felt as if it left the room.

                “Fight this,” he told himself. “It is a spell and nothing more, fight this, get up and fight.” He is a Talon and Talons fight. They have always fought for everything in their lives. They don’t give up because giving up means people died. He knew, without a shadow of a doubted, his brother and sisters were fighting too, right now. He couldn’t give in to some spell. He had to get up and move.

                He slowly started to grow to his feet as the feeling of the spell pushed down on his emotions trying to make him believe he killed his brother. The more he fought, the more the spell pushed back which meant to him it wasn’t real. He didn’t really kill his brother. It was all a part of the illusion.

                He stood up feeling the weight of the world on his back, but it didn’t stop him. He pushed and pushed because he was stronger than anything or anyone in this world. He got to his feet taking a step forward breaking the spell around him. The door flashed into the room with a hole the size of his fist in it.

                He tried opening the locked door but then knock it down with one light hit of his knuckles. He was free, but free into what? “Out of the pot into the fire?” He asked himself. He looked down the hallway having no idea where to go or where the others were trapped at if they were trapped at all. He was about to start walking when the sound of someone crying filled his ears asking him to come  see what was the matter. So, Michael did what any good hero would have done, followed the sounds.  

 

~

(Part_11)

Michael found the room where the crying was coming from in the madhouse or as people have come to call it the Devil’s house and knocked lightly. The crying stopped followed by the sound of some standing up and coming to the door. She slowly opens it to stare up at the tall man that Michael was, he tried his best to smile down at her.

                “Hello,” he said. “I hope you are real.”

                “Are you?” She asked. Her lips were blue and her dark skin dripping in sweat from the sickness, but she seems to be fine from the way she was talking and moving. The sickness was running through her body, but it was doing nothing to damage her.

                “Yes, I am,” he said. “Who are you?”

                “Chelsea,” she said. “And you?”

                “Michael Talon,” he told her. “I met your mother and read your letter.”

                “You what?” She asked opening the door all the way to the dull room. She stepped back as he steps in.

                “We went to your mother’s house looking for you,” he told her looking at the ancient bed against the wall. “We are trying to stop the Blue Kiss.” He looked down at her and asked, “Why is he not trying to kill you?”

                “Because Maggie,” Chelsea said. “She asked him to spare me. So, he let me live, but living in Hell isn’t much of a life.”

                “What do you know about him?” Michael asked. ” Do you know his name?”

                “I kn---” The house shook a cry of vile hatred making Chelsea run to her bed and crawl under it. She started to shake like a dog being beaten by her master. She covers her ears as Michael turns to face the door with the cry growing louder by the second. He creaked his knuckles readying himself for a fight. He stood there turning to the side and keeping his arms down but ready to attack. One the great things about growing up in his family is he learn all kinds of master arts, from Kung Fu, Krave Mage, all the way to Jeet Kune Do his favorite. He always thought Bruce Lee just looked cool in the old movies before he was about to fight.

                The scream grew closer right outside the door but then stopped dead in its’ tracks. Michael ready himself to face whatever was about to walk into the room, but nothing came. A loud cried from under the bed force him to turn on his heels rushing over to Chelsea. He tossed the bed away like a blanket to find her holding for dear life. A hole under her had open, and she was being sucked into it.

                “Save me,” she cried out.

                Michael reached down pulling up on her arms, but the more he pulled, the more the hole try to take her. She yelps from the pain of her arms almost pulling out from her body.  “I have to let go,” he told her seeing tears build up in her eyes, “but I will find you.”

                “The basement,” she told him. “They are in the basem---” and then she was gone. The hole was no more, and Michael stood there holding nothing but air.

                “The basement, huh?” Michael said to the floor. “Now, I know where to go.”

                He started back down the hall to where he hoped the stairs were when the voice started talking beside him. “You are not going to try and save your family?”

                “If you knew my family,” he said, “then you would be running for your life.”

                “I do not fear anything.”

                “I didn’t know you were a fool,” he said to the voice.

                “You child have no idea what I am,” the voice hissed into his ear as he turns down the hallway to face a wall. “You will never be free from this Hell.”

                He didn’t say a word turn back the way he came and started walking, only to find another wall at the end of the hall. He sighed doing this little trick about four times before giving up and leaning against the wall thinking.

                The voice laughed thought the house. Michael nodded looking down at his feet. The floor under him was real, so let's see if the demon could put a wall beneath him. He started punching a hole in the floor waiting until he fell to the level below landing in a room with no door.

                “You think I’m going to let you be free,” the voice said as Michael picked himself up.

                He walked over to one of the walls and started punching holes into it looking for the supports, once he found one he pulled it out from the wall. He started doing the same again moving faster, moving down the wall.

                “What are you doing?”

                “We both you are bound to this house,” he said ripping another support free. “If the house goes then so does you.”

                “And you and your family.”

                “There might be a chance we will live,” he said back to the nothingness. “We have been through worst.”

                He pulled out another support free from the wall, and the voice grunted in pain. “Stop it.”

                “I’ll make a deal with you,” Michael said knowing devils and demons love making deals for souls and most of all power. “I want to see you in your true form, and I’ll stop.”

                “You believe you can defeat me if you see me?” The voice asked followed by a deep laugh.

                “One way to find out,” Michael said putting more holes into the wall.

                “I will tear the flesh from your bones,” the demon said, “drink your blood and make you watch your heart being pulled from your chest.”

                “Sounds like a fun date,” he mocked the voice, and then the door to the room open beckoning him to come and find the devil of the house.

 

(Writer’s Notes: I do not like the way this story has ended up, but I had to see it through. I think this may be the weakest Talon story so far.) 

 

~

(Part_12)

Michael stepped onto the old steps leading into the dark basement. He could already smell the copper in the air from blood but couldn’t see anything as he made it to the ground. He glanced away looking for a light and feeling the wall to find nothing. He stood there for a moment letting his eyes sit in the dark, soon they will adjust, and they did in time for him see the man standing up from a chair.

                “Welcome,” the man said with a sly grin. He was a tall black man with long black hair tied up in knocks Michael had seen Native American do before and he wore red face paint in the shape of a laughing skull. He stepped forward in a black and green three pieces suit holding a cane in one hand. He didn’t get to close to Michael but was close enough to hit him with the cane. “They call me Doctor Voudon and I can bring ills on to your foes.”

                Michael didn’t move and kept searching for the girl in the room, but he couldn’t see her. If she was here, Doctor Voudon was keeping her from his sight. “I doubt that is your real name,” Michael said.

                “Of course not,” the bad Doctor said. “A name has power.”

                “Yes, it does,” Michael said staring right into his black eyes. He prays his sister Helbis had broken free of her spells and then found the others. The magic of this thing wouldn’t be as powerful to her, it was a plus to having witch blood in her. She could feel magic and find its weakest faster than anyone in the family. Michael knew everything up to this point had been a part of the Doctor’s plan. Every moved he took was leading him to the Doctor because the Doctor wanted him to be here. If he didn’t then Michael would blink and be back in the first room.            

                 He had to play along until Helbis did something to save them.

                The Doctor smiled showing he white teeth and said, “You are a strong boy.”

                “I work out a lot,” Michael told him which wasn’t a lie at all, but he gave the Doctor chuckle at the simple remarked. Michael snapped his fist right into the sight of the man’s head, faster than the Doctor thought he could move. The hit creaked his head against the far end of the walls, but Michael knew the fight wasn’t over. It was getting started.

                The man planted the end of his cane right into Michael’s chest. The hit knocked him back, and it hurt. It hurt a lot more than he thought it would, but there was no time to sit with the pain. He dashed at his foe hoping against all hope he could keep the Doctor mind on the fight. The Doctor keeps his cane out like a fencing sword blocking and batting Michael’s attacks away.

                “You are quite skilled,” The Doctor said.

                Michael didn’t say a word.

                “I think when we are done with this little duel of ours,” The Doctor said sidestepping another swing of Michael’s fist. “I’m going to take your body and eat your soul.”

                “So, you are a Soul Collector,” Helbis said from the side of the room as Gabriel let go off letting her blink back into sight.

                The Doctor growled at them. “You were the distraction,” he said to Michael. Michael nodded and shrugged at him.

                “You are a witch,” The Doctor said. “I can smell it now.” He glanced at the other two with an equal amount of hate for them both. “I will kill you all.”

                “You will try,” Michael said throwing himself at the Doctor. He knew what he had to do, give Helbis time to figure out where he was keeping the souls. He thought for a second it was a little odd this was his life, and this wasn’t the first time they had dealt with Soul Collector. Once, they destroy the object withheld all the souls the Doctor had collector over the years that he would die. The problem was finding the object.

                Could it be his cane? Michael thought as Raphael jumped into the fray of the brawl. A thought his brother and sister seem to agree with, without saying a word. They both tried to get his cane and break it, but why would he use the thing that could kill him as a weapon?

                The last and only other Soul Collector they fought had their object in their necklace, but the Doctor wasn’t wearing a necklace nor rings nor a pocket watch nor anything outside of the cane, but it didn’t seem right.

                The cane creaked against the side of Michael his face dropping him to the wall causing him to see stars for a moment. It was great having super strength, and his bones were changed as well to handle the strength, but it did nothing to stop the pain from an attack. He could still feel it like everyone else in the world.

                Helbis jumped, duck, and rolled out of the way of all the Doctor’s attack like a cat playing with string. Raphael was trying to do the same but wasn’t as skilled as his sister. He took a few hits being knocked to the ground. Michael rubs the side of his face telling himself it was time to get back into the fire.

                He watched growing to his feet as Gabriel help carried two girls out from a room from somewhere in the dark. Chelsea was able to walk and help with her friend who wasn’t awake or moving. It must have been Maggie they were carrying. They headed for the stairs trying to get out of the battle and the house.

                “They can’t leave my house,” the Doctor said letting them go.

                Michael jumped at him putting a knee into his chest flatting him against the wall, and the wall gives a little like someone jumping into bed. The strike would have killed a normal person, but the Doctor wasn’t a person at all. All he did was laugh at them.

                “Where is the door,” Michael heard Chelsea yelled from above making the Doctor smile wide.

                “None of you will be able to leave my house,” he said hitting Raphael in the ribs with a loud popping sound.

                The house was what was keeping the souls for him. It wasn’t his cane or anything on his body. It was the house itself, that is why he didn’t want Michael destroying any part of it. If the house were destroyed then he would lose his power, lose all the souls that he gained over the lifetimes.

                The question remained how to bring down the house without killing everyone while doing it? Michael wasn’t sure he knew what to do. He could start punching the walls bring part of the house down and weakening the Doctor’s power but what would the cost be?

                He was hit to the bottom of the steps yelling at his brother and sister, “We need to get to Gabriel.”

                Raphael turned smiling at him and said, “I got it.”

                In a normal moment, Michael was sure his brother would have asked why but the among of missions they had been on, which was a lot, has taught them to trust each other no matter what. Helbis ducked a flying cane, touched the ground with her hand and dashed at Michael who was already heading up the stairs.

                He didn’t have to glance back to see Raphael’s armor pour over his body and heard the drop a grenade pin. Helbis hit Michael in the back making him face planet into the floor as the smoke rolled up the stairs after them.

                She stood up looking back down the room watching Raphael climb his way up to them decked out in his armor. All his weapons and supplies were left down in the basement, but it no longer matters to him. “Guess the Doctor didn’t think about removing our belts,” Michael said standing up and helping Helbis to her feet.

                “Those were the new grenades,” she said showing him a few she had on her belt. They looked like little black boxes with a small half ring sticking out from them. The punch a lot harder hit than a normal grenade and some of them were firebombs, but the most important thing is that looked like a part of a black belt. They were all the bombs on them, everyone expects Michael, he didn’t like the idea of carrying something that could blow up on him around. “Didn’t know we had them.”

                “He does now,” Raphael said through the metal of his smooth mask. The armor was a bio-steel, or at least that’s what their father called. It was far stronger than any steel and Michael thought of it as adamantium like Wolverine’s claw, but his dad wouldn’t let him call it by the name. The metal around his brother’s body had little green dots in it and look like bones. “So, what do we do now?” He asked thumbing back down to the basement, “that’s not going to keep him down for along.”

                Gabriel came up stilling holding on to Maggie and asked, “What is going on?”

                “The house,” Michael said. “It’s where he keeps the soul.”

                “You think your little toys would stop me,” The Doctor’s voice run out in the halls. “I am evil. I am forever in the dark. I cannot die.”

                “Michael,” Gabriel order give him the girl. He took  with easy.“Head to the end of the hall.”

                “But there is no door,” Chelsea protested.

                “There will be,” Gabriel told her. She took off four of the boxes from her belt giving them to Raphael. “Toss them into rooms and get out of there.”

                The Doctor swung his cane from the nothings hitting Helbis hard and knocking her to her knees. Raphael tried to hit him back, but he faded back into the nothingness he came from.

                “Go,” Gabriel order helping Helbis to her feet.

                Raphael ran down the hallway and upstairs for a moment.

                “You can run, but you can’t hide in this place, child,” the Doctor said fading back into the world in front of them all. Chelsea fell to her knees crying while Gabriel and Helbis ready themselves for a hard fight. “I see everything in here.”

                “I hope so,” Gabriel said hearing the pops from above, “because I smell smoke.”

                “No,” the Doctor hissed stepping to the wall beside him followed by Raphael rolling down the steps he went up.

                “Now,” Gabriel said to Helbis.

                “Right,” she said pulling four pins from her belt and tossing the firebombs into the old dead living room. The only life they had seen in lifetimes was the quick reacting fire being birth in it.

                Raphael grew to his feet seeing his family illuminated by the living fire. He rubs his head as they walked up to him. He couldn’t feel the hit, but it felt right to pretended he could and asked, “Now, what?”

                “You’ll all burn with me,” The Doctor said from behind them with the fire growing around him but not hurting him yet. “I will not let you free.” The more the house was hurt, the more his power started to fade. Souls of the many dead he keeps with him in this place were walking out of the fires of Hell and disappearing through the walls. He hissed at them all trying to keep them in his hands, but his power was melting like Icarus’s wax wings.

                A door blinked into view for a moment and then blinked away. “You will all die,” The Doctor said dropping to his knees among the fire.

                “One day, sure,” Michael said seeing the door and opening it with his boot, “but not today.” They made it outside as the Doctor tried to stop them. He willed his power to blocked them, but the flames were eating the old house far faster than he could stop them. He had to choose the Talon family and the girls or the fire, but he couldn’t stop them both.

                He let them go facing the fire and slowly pushing it back, but the house was giving in more than he wanted it too. Gabriel stopped off the bottom step as everyone rushed to safety and tossed the last of her grenades into the house. She ran away and turn in time to watch the whole house jump up in flames. Everyone for a quick moment believed they saw a screaming face of agony shot up into the flames and hoped the bad Doctor was dead.

 

~

 

By the time they got back to their plane, the sun had been sitting over the world for a few hours now, and Gabriel received the good news a lot of the people sick were waking up. The magic was gone with the house and the girl Maggie had come too crying over her actions. Revenge blinded her from not seeing the monster she was making a deal with.

                Michael found himself being hug hard by Sesily and asked, “Why do you smell like smoke?”

                “Long story,” he said kissing her.

                “Hey now,” Gabriel told them walking by to get to the cockpit, “not in front of your sister.”

                “Sorry,” Michael said.

                She stopped in the doorway turning to face him and saying, “You did well out there.”

                “Thank you,” he said back. “I won’t let you down again.”

                “I know,” Gabriel smiled walking away.

                “I need a nap,” Helbis yawned.

                “I need clothes,” Raphael said heading for the back of the jet.

Reviews

[Spamalot]

You didn’t ask for comment, but you’re deep into this story, and because some critical things jumped out at me, I thought you might want to know about them, because they’re critical to a story’s acceptance in the publisher’s office, and, the bookseller’s venue.

Bear in mind that what I have to say is related only to the craft of the fiction-writer, and not you, your potential and talent, or the story. Still, this may sting:

• Six Months Earlier

You open the story by talking about what happened before the story opened? Seriously? If it matters, open the story where the story opens, and add, “Six months later,” to the end.

• “Maggie,” Chelsea mumble to her best friend as they pushed through the darkness of old New Orleans, where the house where haunt by ghosts of a past never forgotten.

Did you edit this? “Mumble” should be “mumbles,” and the line above literally makes no sense as it stands. What am I supposed to take from “where the house where haunt by ghosts?”

Here’s where the acquiring editor reaches for the rejection slip, I’m afraid. All the above aside, you open with the protagonist speaking one word. And then, you leave her there, mouth open and unable to finish what she’s saying for 463 words—several minutes of forced silence on her part as the reader absorbs an info-dump. Before the opening scene begins, we’re on the third standard manuscript page.

And throughout those words what are we getting? A lecture on things we’ve not asked to learn, given for reasons the reader doesn’t know. An emotion-free voice is droning on with a historical overview, but the reader is wondering what’s going on and why, who she is, and why we’re being given a history lesson and wondering if it’s going to be on the test.

Seriously…when was the last time you picked up a history book for entertainment? If the answer is that you haven’t done that, why assume that your reader will love hearing an info-dump of history instead of story? In the words of Sol Stein: “In sum, if you want to improve your chances of publication, keep your story visible on stage and yourself mum.”

• “Maggie,” Chelsea said pulling on her arm stopping her dead in her track. “This is crazy.”

Is there a difference between stopping her, “dead in her track,” and stopping her? The only difference is that in the original version the reader must swallow four irrelevant words, slowing the reading and diluting the line’s impact. (as a minor point, it’s “dead in her tracks.” We leave tracks, not track.) Every word you can remove speeds the reading and makes the story more real.

• Maggie turns to face her dark friend with oddly bright blue eyes. She moved in close to her hissing, “They killed my brother.”

So…does her “dark friend,” have blue eyes, or did she face her with blue eyes? You know, but the reader lacks context to make it meaningful, as presented. And in fiction, context is more than just important. It’s the difference between story and a line of meaningless words.

One of the artifacts of explaining the story to the reader as an invisible narrator, as against making them live it as the protagonist, is that when something seems obvious to you, you’ll leave out detail that the reader needs, and present what they don’t.

But that aside, eye color is something they see on each other every time they meet. So to them it’s irrelevant. More than that, ours isn’t a visual medium. So why are you slowing the story to tell the reader something that doesn’t move the plot, develop character, or is important to either character, at the moment? Does my knowing that one of them has blue eyes matter to my understanding the story? If not, it serves only as clutter, that slows the narrative.

And why say “she moved IN closer? Isn’t the word “in” implied when you say “she moved closer? Of course. So what does the word contribute? Nothing. Chop out those unnecessary words, all over the story, and it reads with more excitement. In other words, tighten the prose.

And, try hissing, “She killed my brother.” You can’t without sounding seriously melodramatic. You can’t laugh words or hiss them. And in any case, given that we don’t know who the “she” that did the killing is; don’t know either of the people in the scene; don’t know how old they are, their place in society, or what motivated them to take this walk without Chelsea asking this question before they left (she knew their destination when hey left, so should have resolved this, then). Words we have, but we have no connection to the people in the scene. And without that, a reader don’t care enough to turn pages.

Here’s the deal: You’re using present tense in hope of adding more immediacy. It doesn’t, because the only one who uses tense is the narrator, someone not on the scene or in the story. Change the tense to past and the story changes not at all. But, since the reader isn’t used to present tense, it detracts. And, of course, all over the piece you’re getting tenses confused because you’re not used to it, either.

Added to that, you’re TELLING the story to the reader, when you should be making them feel like they’re living it. That informs, yes, but doesn’t entertain. And people read fiction for an emotional connection that entertains—an emotional, not an informational experience. So, bottom line: you’re trying to write fiction with the techniques of nonfiction we were given in our schooldays. And that can’t be done.

Why? Because the only viewpoint the reader gets is yours. But…why do people do things? In life, it’s because something motivates us to act, after we’ve taken into account our resources, our needs, and what we’re trying to accomplish. But nonfiction provides none of that. So you report what people say and do, in overview—as YOU see it. And that drains all of the emotional content from the story. More than that, because you’re dictating their words and attitudes according to the plot’s needs, without taking into account what they would actually do in that situation were it real, everyone will think like you, and talk like you. If the plot needs smart they’re smart. If smart gets in the way they turn as dumb as you need. How can that seem real?

The problem, as I said, isn’t one of good or bad writing, or how much talent you have. It’s that your talent is both untrained, and lacks the necessary resources. The only writing skills you own are the book-report writing skills we’re given in school, and they’re useless for fiction. Storytelling skills are useless, too, because telling a story aloud is a performance art. How you tell the story provides almost all the emotional content. And given that the reader can neither hear your voice nor see your performance, the only thing left is the dry words, inflected only as the punctuation suggests. Have your computer read it aloud and you’ll hear how different what the reader gets is from what you “hear” as you read.

The fix? Simple. To write fiction, which is a profession, you need to know what the pro knows. No way around that in any profession. After all, everyone you know has been reading only professionally written fiction since they learned to read, so they expect that kind of writing in your work. But, do you know how a scene on the page differs from one on he screen? If not, how can you write one? If the term short-term scene-goal has no meaning you won’t include one. And if you’re not aware of the three questions a reader wants answered on entering any scene, you won’t answer them, and, didn’t, here. But since that knowledge is part of the learned part of fiction, it can be fixed.

And to do that, your local library’s fiction writing department can be a huge resource. It’s filled with the views of pros in publishing, writing, and teaching. They won’t make a pro of you. That’s your job. But they will give you the tools and the knowledge of what they can do for you, though. And with that, you can give your words wings.

Hang in there, and keep on writing.

Jay Greenstein
https://jaygreenstein.wordpress.com/category/the-craft-of-writing/

[CLCurrie]

Thanks for the review and pointing out the problems. I never plan on these stories being published but the stories that I do plan on having published I'll keep in mind what you have pointed out here, again thanks. I could tell you why I don't plan for these little tales to be published but it doesn't matter to the over all story, so I'll leave as be. Again I can see where you are coming from and will look over some of my other stories with this in mind.