Young Lives & Old Scars

”Sincerely, I believe that there isn’t any string of words that can come close to describing what goes through your mind when everything around you is shouting that death is a stone’s throw away. I for one have never been able to find that magic combination of words . . . though sometimes I wish I could, since it would mean one less failure haunting me. And tonight, I can feel that incident so vividly…”

The Hound. Ch1

It is said that when a Hellhound lives long enough to see their tail striped with silver, that they gain the wisdom and power of the ancients. You have lived long enough to see this happen, and you can safely say that such rumors are based on lies. All that a few tufts of silver fur mean to you, is that you are long past your prime, and now seek a place to lay down and die. You have no purpose, and your body is a ruin of countless fights. This world has no further need of you. This all changes, when a young orphan boy wanders up to you…

Cut and Run, Chapter 3 (Allen Belushi Cycle 3)

“Frazziss. You’ve got to let me go.” I beg of her.

“Please, I can’t hold on anymore. It’s just too painful.” And it was. I tried, I tried so very hard to hold on for her. But I just wasn’t tough enough.

The tears in her eyes that had been threatening to flow, did so as she closed them in anguish. I could see them course down her face, tracing the outline of those sweet cheek scales that I had lovingly stroked so many times.

Sobbing, she opens her eyes again. It breaks my heart to see the tears of the tortured longing in her face shining forth with a desire for something more, something unattainable.

I try to gently pull away from her, but she refuses to liberate me as I sit there on the edge. Instead, she tightens her grasp as if she could make me stay with her forever.

“Please.” I whisper one last time.

Slowly, reluctantly, she loosens her grip. She’s finally facing the fact that despite all of her wants, all of her desires, there were some things that I just couldn’t give her.

Then at the last, she releases me.

I turn my head away so as to not see the agony that grips her mournful face. I move my legs over the edge and face the gulf that lies before me. I gauge the distance, hoping that I might not miss the mark of the stone that lay so far beneath me. I also hope that she wouldn’t pull me back again. Yet, somehow deep down, I knew that I could trust her not to.

I don’t look back, for if I did, I wouldn’t be able to do what I have to next.

My ears shriek with her anguished negation, as I propel myself over the edge and down into the vastness that lay below.

I (don’t) wanna be…

Once upon a time, Halloween came and passed. Following the traveling, the visiting, and the collecting, an argument occurred on the bed in a room full of aircraft models dangling from the ceiling. An argument so full of pettiness, self-righteousness, and both optimism and cynicism in equal measure that there could only be one source.…