paranormal fiction

Short Story Page Update: “Endtown”

/ Ajmorse / Leave a comment

Today is a lazy day. I meant to run errands, but it’s dismally cold out there, and there is hot coco in the cabinet and cold pizza in a fridge, and what with that waiting for me, what more can a girl want? 😉

How about some writing and a short story update? I have added my story “Endtown” to my short story’s page, which you can view up there ^ at the top of this website or here.

endtownEndtown

The short story focuses on Genevieve, a teenager who died way too early. Both her and the friends she makes there are in Limbo, or “the in-between,” in neither Heaven or Hell. They are the Watchers; the eyes that no one sees on earth, silently helping the Angels fight a war between the demons.

The thing they never tell you when you are saying your goodbyes: how quiet death is. For a long time she felt like she existed, except there are no formal introductions to the places you wake up in. In Sunday school she learned it this way: You go to Heaven if you are good; Hell is for the sinners and the unclean. But what she didn’t know, was that there were places that existed for the In-Between. Limbo wasn’t just for those who slept and never woke up.

It was the story I did as a continuation story on here. I was very proud with the characters and story that came out of it. I can certainly see the potential for more stories to come from this. 🙂

Happy Writing!

Oh, and for those doing NaNoWriMo, are you doing so much better than me? Is someone actually getting some writing done? (siigh). Best of luck to us all!

NEW READS: Featuring Author, K. Starling’s book, In Beauty’s Veins

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I have been offered a great opportunity. One of my former classmates and friend, K. Starling, has self-published her own novel, In Beauty’s Veins, and has agreed to do an interview with me!

The opportunity will give us some insight into self-publishing, her writing process and of course her work of fiction, which is drawing me in with its incredible world and great characters.

10668432_10202063361700310_926469207_nTaken directly from the back of the novel itself, In Beauty’s Veins is a story about friendship, forgiveness and finding hope in dark places against all odds.

Five years after she is torn away from everything and everyone she knows, Daphne is tired of her fruitless search for a lost friend. Leaving her homeland in the Atwin Counties, she arrives in the merchant town of Halfawaise ready to open a medical practice. However, her medical training is unusual since she is a Healer, a being out of Atwin superstition that the local medic denies ever existed. The town is immediately suspicious of the newcomer when she forms an unlikely bond with the town pariah, a girl long suspected of murder, and their suspicions only grow when a local man is savagely attacked by another Atwin legend – a vampyre.

Struggling with a language and culture not her own, Daphne slowly reveals the secrets of her dark past to three young women with their own conflicted agendas, all the while trying to prove her worth to the skeptical town of Halfawaise.

Look for a review and my interview with K. Starling two weeks from now, Saturday, Oct 4th!

You can also find K. Starling’s book on amazon.com, HERE.

I am very excited about this! 🙂 Hope everyone is having a great Saturday!

Part 4: Endtown (a short story)

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There’s no excuse. I should have got this out to you guys on Thursday, and I am sorry. I won’t let writer’s fear get the best of me, or quit when the going gets rough. Whew. I am a strong, confident writer who can succeed and that’s that!

Anyway, here’s Part 4 of what was supposed to be Thursday night’s post. If you missed the previous post, you can view them on last week’s post Here. You will also find links to Part 1 and 2 there as well.

Endtown

0407131926aSo far, the story focuses on Genevieve, a young teen who died way too early. Both her and her friends find themselves in Limbo, or “the in-between,” in neither Heaven or Hell. They are offered the chance to make a difference in the war that the Angels are still fighting against the demons, who are trying to take over the earth.

Part 4:

The demon was still looking at them. “Your Master doesn’t know, does he?” He grinned, and Genevieve shuddered. His teeth were filed down to points, for gnawing on flesh.

“What are you going to do?” said Genevieve.

He looked the three of them over. “Oh, wouldn’t you like to know.”

 

          THE demon just stood there looking at them. Gen squirmed as she felt her stomach drop to her feet. Her skin itched; it felt like a hundred stinging ants were crawling across her stomach. She was burning. Her forehead was sweating. “He’s going to burn us from the inside out!” she gasped. Gaven and Gillian both groaned suddenly and dropped to their knees.

“Make him stop!” cried Gillian as he moved onto all fours.

“Do what?” cried Genevieve as she struggled to stay upright.

“There’s nothing to do,” gasped Gaven. “We’re already dead.”

“That you are,” said a voice that was familiar, and scary at the same time.

And there he stood next to the ugly bald-headed demon, looking resplendent in his white suit, and colored sunglasses. His face was slightly rough with a day’s worth of scruff, but other than that, the master looked smooth and handsome and powerful.

“Why are you here, Lyle? I hear your master is half-way around the world right now,” he said.

And then the pain fell away. Genevieve fell onto all fours next to the boys.

The demon named Lyle turned toward the master slowly. He scrunched up his already ugly face into a scowl. “Samyaza.”

“Please,” said the Master. “Samuel is fine.”

“Your name doesn’t matter to me,” hissed Lyle. “Who are you to question where I am?”

“It matters when you hurt,” (he said as he glanced at the three teenagers,) “Those that are close to me.”

Lyle spat on the ground, and the dirt hissed and sizzled where his spit fell. “In-betweeners.”

“We prefer the term, “Watchers,” said Samuel.

“You think you scare me? You are no more welcome in heaven than I.”

“We have been pardoned,” he said and the ground seemed to swell under his feet. He was growing, no, he was rising. Genevieve saw the wings sprouting out from his back. He seemed to glow with a faint light. “Would you like to see?” he said.

“Save your holiness,” gnashed Lyle between pointy teeth. He glanced at the smoldering wreck of the train. “My work is done here anyway.” He turned into the darkness and disappeared.

“Oh man,” said Gill as he slapped Gaven on the back as they both got to their feet. “That was a close one!” But he quieted as their Master, Samuel, turned towards them.

“Stay out of trouble, I said. Watch the town, I said. See what sort of exports are coming in. Are you three incapable of following instructions? Or are you just stupid?!”

Genevieve flinched as she scrambled to her feet. His wings were still extended and although she couldn’t see his eyes beneath his green-blue sunglasses, she didn’t need to. She’d seen his eyes flash a silver and gold in a rage before.

“It was my fault.” She stepped forward as the two boys bowed their heads. “I told Gaven I thought there was something on the train. We came to investigate. Gill found us later.”

“I don’t care what happened,” said the Master. “We can’t let them get the best of us, again.” He turned his head and his sunglasses flashed a teal color. “Do you even know what happened with the train? What they blew up?”

“We were working on that when you showed up,” mumbled Gaven.

“Shut up,” said the Master, and then he jerked his head over to the wreck behind him and moved a smoldering piece of wood out of his path and set it down gently. “Well, let’s get this sorted out.”

Genevieve never seemed to know which side their Master was on. And it bothered her more than she cared to admit. Hot and cold, he ran. Like two different types of weather. It was exhausting.

Yes, the Watchers, or In-Betweeners were pardoned, but if being forced out of Heaven to live on Earth was punishment, it certainly felt like it. They were alone. One of a kind, and yet never resting. Sometimes Genevieve felt like she ran a marathon that never ended, and she was always dying of thirst.

She watched the Master turn over a burning log and pick up a smoldering box. She or the two boys would have been burned by the heat, but Samuel was a lot older than them. And he had his wings. She wondered if they would ever get a chance to earn wings.

“What is it?” she asked him.

The Master cursed and threw the smoldering box into to dirt. “Food,” he hissed.

“Those fucking bastards,” said Gaven.

Samuel’s sunglasses flashed as he turned towards him. “Watch it.”

“So?” said Gillian. “What will that do? There’s plenty of food, here.”

The Master jerked his head toward her. “Tell them.”

“Well…not really,” said Genevieve.

“What do you mean?” said Gaven. “What did we just eat a few hours ago?” he laughed. “Dirt?”

“No, and the new districts are fine,” (she glanced around) “Here in old town is different.”

“What do you mean by that?” said Gaven.

“There’s a lot of poverty here. People depend on the free shipments the train brings in. Mostly stuff from the government. Goes into food pantries and the like.”

“The free shipments cut down on stealing,” said the Master. “The government finally found out that people were starving and stealing for food and they did something about it.”

“So without the food to keep people off the streets?” said Gaven, but he didn’t expect an answer.

“Well, shit,” said Gillian. “Mama ain’t gonna like this.”

“Shut up,” said Gaven as he smacked him in the head. “There will be riots over this stuff, idiot. We got our work cut out for us.”

“My foster parents are even depending on it,” said Genevieve.

“We’ll see that they are taken care of,” said The master.

“Great,” said Genevieve as she looked down at herself. “Is that all we’re taking care of? When can I be myself again?”

She thought she saw the Master grimace before he turned away. It was his fault that she found herself in the form of a twelve-year-old. It was her punishment, he had said. She shouldn’t have been sticking her nose where it didn’t belong.

But all Genevieve had been trying to do was make a difference in this world. Wasn’t that what they were here for anyway?

 

To Be Continued…Tune in next Thursday for more!

Happy Writing!

Update: Schedule of Posts, and My short story, Endtown

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It took me a while to figure it out, (probably longer than it should have) but I will be posting each Monday and Thursday night, with the weekends and days in between left for miscellaneous posts.

Thursday is of course the night where I will  post a short story, with a little bit more added to the story each post.

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The story is titled “Endtown,” which is turning into a paranormal/young adult short story. So far, the story focuses on Genevieve, a young teen who died way too early. Both her and her friends find themselves in Limbo, or “the in-between,” in neither Heaven or Hell. They are offered the chance to make a difference in the war that the Angels are still fighting against the demons, who are trying to take over the earth.

So far it is great practice for me, a journey-into-plot-as-I-go experience and so far I am loving it!

Last night, I posted more on “Endtown” a little later than I had planned, so if you missed it, you can view it Here. You will also find parts 1 and 2 there as well.

I hope everyone has a great weekend!

Happy Writing!

 

Part 3: Endtown (a short story)

/ Ajmorse / 2 Comments

Author’s Note –

I’m posting this tonight a little later than I thought, but I am very proud of how this story is going – it took itself in a direction that I hadn’t planned on, but is exciting!

If you haven’t read Part 1 and 2 that I posted the previous Thursdays, read them Here, and Here. Thanks for stopping by! Enjoy!

 

The train appeared on the track, rushing closer, growing bigger. Just as Genevieve was about to open her mouth to let Gaven know, there was a rush of heat, and white light and the front of the train exploded in the darkness.

 

     THEY were trying to rustle through the broken pieces in the darkness, lit only faintly by the burning embers of the wreck. Everything smelled of soot and burnt meat.

“There weren’t humans on this train was there?” she thought with horror.

“No,” said Gillian as he flipped over a burnt piece of wood. “The trains are used for cargo.”

In the darkness, Gen could see the faint outline of his dark cloak. He was the same age as Gaven, but where Gaven was muscular and tan, Gillian was pale, black-haired and gaunt. The three G’s the others sometimes called them, and other things…but Genevieve was just happy to have friends. Being dead could be a lonely thing sometimes.

Gaven came to stand by her then and she looked up at his shiny eyes. He grabbed her elbow suddenly as a figure stepped out from the darkness in front of the simmering embers of the train wreck. She had momentarily forgotten about the rest of the train, but its tail end still waited in the darkness, white, silent, and expecting.

“Oh, in-between-ers,” a voice hissed as it stepped closer. “This night just gets better and better.”

“Don’t come any closer,” said Gaven as he took a step forward.  “We are not here to fight you.”

“What are you here for then, if not to sabotage our plans?” said the voice, dark and raspy.

Gillian came up to stand on the other side of Genevieve. “We are here for answers,” he said. “There is no place for you here, demon.”

The figure laughed and Genevieve felt a chill in her heart. She could never be this evil. She felt a sudden feeling of hopelessness. Maybe she really was just a little girl after all.

“I can feel your hopelessness, your distrust,” said the figure. He lowered the dark hood that he wore. Besides a chill, he stank of fire and fish. His face was all white, his eyes were completely black. He had no hair, and a thin black slash for a mouth. “Tell me, how goes your revolution?”

“Our business is none of yours,” said Genevieve as she held Gaven’s arm. “What are you doing here?”

The figure tilted his head towards the cold wind that blew through the trees and stirred the ash at his feet. A glowing piece of wood glowed orange and then caught on fire. He studied his claw-like fingernails.  “I don’t waste my time talking to children. I wonder…does your master know your here?”

Genevieve remembered the first time she had met their master.

The thing they never tell you when you are saying your goodbyes: how quiet death is. For a long time she felt like she existed, except there are no formal introductions to the places you wake up in. In Sunday school she learned it this way: You go to Heaven if you are good; Hell is for the sinners and the unclean. But what she didn’t know, was that there were places that existed for the In-Between. Limbo wasn’t just for those who slept and never woke up.

Limbo was the place you went if you weren’t quite good enough. Limbo was for the punished who’d repented. It was for the few stranglers of the Great Fall, back when Lucifer had tried to make a claim to earth and all its inhabitants. A war they were still fighting, actually. Some from the Great Fall were trying to make right what they had done. Some were sent there because they weren’t quite done with where they had been. Some thought that it was a place to be alive again, but Genevieve wasn’t so sure. Neither Angel or Demon, the “In-between-ers” were neither living or dead. They possessed the skills and strengths of an Angel and Immortality but they weren’t all-seeing like some, and they had the limitations of a human body.

Genevieve felt like a broken record sometimes, living a life that she had a few times before. Moments never change, regrets still exist and living life like a human constantly reminded her how fragile and stupid they were sometimes. She was sick of making the same mistakes over and over again.

But the man they called Master gave them a purpose. They were the insiders, helping to fight a war that the Angels struggled with. They could blend in, they could be the eyes in every corner.

She vaguely remember Heaven, as a warm place as she was fighting for life. She remembered struggling to breathe, twisting her arms around in the murky river, trying to kick at the thick, car window. Between bursts of unconsciousness, she felt warmth surround her and then there was nothing. She woke up in a white room. There was no smell, no breeze, nothing. Just an ever present fog and the feeling that she had forgotten something, left something behind.

She wore a hospital gown and sat up on a bed that you normally see in a doctor’s office when you are getting a check-up. A man approached. He wore dark rimmed glasses and had a Clark Kent type of feel, and a presence about him, a strength. His eyes were not natural either, they were a wide blue-almost purple, and his ears were pointed at the tip. He wore a white lab coat. When he was closer, Genevieve could see the tops of feathered wings poking over his shoulders.

“You’re awake,” he said. “Good.”

“You’re an Angel,” she said, and was surprised to hear her own voice. It had felt like a long time.

He sat down in a desk chair that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. “Sort of.” He eyed her over a manila folder that had also appeared in his hand. “First time driver, huh?”

Genevieve blinked at him. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

He rolled back in his chair as he looked at her. “Let me put it this way for you. Heaven is not quite ready for you, you’re too good for Hell, and you were too young to die. Sixteen…” He shook his head then. “You are supposed to have the whole world in front of you. What if I said you could make a difference for others instead?”

That was how it had started.

The demon was still looking at them. “Your Master doesn’t know, does he?” He grinned, and Genevieve shuddered. His teeth were filed down to points, for gnawing on flesh.

“What are you going to do?” said Genevieve.

He looked the three of them over. “You’ll never know.”

To Be Continued Next Thursday…

Part 2: Endtown (a short story)

/ Ajmorse / 1 Comment

Happy Thursday! If you haven’t read Part 1 of this story, you can read it here. I am temporarily calling it “Endtown.” Here goes, enjoy!

OVER pancakes, sausage, and bacon they talked about the master’s plan.

“So, you want to board a train?” said Genevieve as she forked pancake into her mouth. She chewed slowly and then swallowed. “After we were told strictly by the master to leave it alone? It’s clearly dark territory.”

“Well, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” said her friend, mentor, and sometimes brother.

“He’s all-seeing, he’ll find out, Gaven.”

Gaven shrugged and started eating some bacon. “You know what I like about earth-food?”

“What’s that?” she said as she stared at the ice in the bottom of her empty glass.

“The grease.” He took another bite of bacon and crunched it loudly.

She just shook her head, but she couldn’t completely hide her smile. He kept her sane this friend, who looked like an older brother. Gaven was tan all over, with blue eyes and brown hair. He looked like the type of guys that girls her age would probably giggle over. But things weren’t always what they seemed. She wasn’t the little girl she appeared either.

She watched him as he set down his fork. “You didn’t tell me about the parents?” he said.

“They think I’m twelve,” she said with a grimace. “They treat me like I’m twelve.”

He sighed. “If you’d just repent…”

“I’ve said my sorrys, what more do you want from me?”

“This punishment won’t last forever, Gen.”

She stirred scrambled eggs around her plate. “That’s not what Harry said.”

“Harry is a wicked angel, Gen, you know that.” He gulped at his orange juice. “God, that’s good.”

“He said something about the master telling him it was true. How I was stuck like this. Forever.”

“Nothing is permanent in this world, you know that. It’s life and death and high calories.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

“There,” he said as he saluted his empty juice glass at her. “Now you’re starting to act your age.”

 

An hour later, they shivered in the dark next to the train tracks. The place was lit by a single street light, and the usually brown-dirt looked a strange purple in the darkness. “What are we doing here?” she hissed, as she hugged herself against the early morning chill. “We are going to get ourselves killed.”

“You can’t get killed if you are already dead, and besides, we are invincible.” Gaven bounced up and down on his feet. He glanced at his watch. “It’s passed 3am, something’s wrong.”

Genvieve gazed down the tracks; it ran through trees and behind buildings, but the only thing she saw were the hills on the other side of town. She looked across the tracks at the tall, shadowy rundown factory. She could see the rust on the smoke stacks, the grime that spilled down their sides. Stretched out in front of the leftover rusty pipes and barrels were mounds of dirt, bulldozers and holes in the ground. Somebody was rebuilding something.

A train horn sounded in the darkness.

“So we are going to jump onto it as it comes by?” she said faintly as she waited for the front of it to appear.

“That’s the plan,” said Gaven.

Genevieve didn’t like this plan. She didn’t like anything about the dark just then, the way morning seemed so far away, the way the smell of the trees and dirt smelled sweet and heavy to her nose, like something was rotting.

She heard something snap. “Something’s here,” she hissed and turned around. But beyond the light that lit up the construction site and part of the tracks, she saw nothing. She heard the scuff of someone kicking a stone in the darkness, the sound of a muttered curse. A man’s voice.

“Who’s there?” she called out.

They saw the glow, first. Of eyes that snapped on, like someone had turned on a light switch. Glowing faint at first, and then closer, she gasped as two orange and fiery red eyes appeared. She thought she should be scared, but for some reason, Gen thought of campfires and felt like lying down and going to sleep.

“Knock it off, Gill,” said Gaven, “We know it’s you.”

“Oh, the master’s going to kill you,” said a deep voice, gleefully.

“Gillian!” cried Genevieve. She heard laughter and grunts as Gaven punched him in the gut. The glowing eyes disappeared. Not all of them knew how to use glamor.

The train appeared on the track, rushing closer, growing bigger. Just as Genvieve was about to open her mouth to let Gaven know, there was a rush of heat, and white light and the front of the train exploded in the darkness.

To be continued… (next Thursday!)

Author’s note:

These story posts have minimal edits; I thought I’d let the story take me where it wants to go, so the next words are as much of a surprise to me as it is to you, the reader. I do have a vague idea of what I thought I wanted this story to be, or want it to go, but I think I’m going to continue on like this and let the words take me.

I’ve read that some authors do that, they let the story take them where it needs to be and I think this will help me work on plot-building too, (which is something that I struggle with.)

So the result might be a big win or a big disaster. I can already see some things I need to work on, meh. 😉 Thanks for reading, and for the support!

Tune in next Thursday for more!

Happy writing everyone!

A Short Story: Endtown

/ Ajmorse / 2 Comments

I decided what I am going to do for my a continuing post…and that would be, a story! Originally I was going to post the story on Fridays, but upon observation, I think Thursday is the best night to do so. A lot of people are busy Friday nights, (myself included,) so instead, I’ll leave Friday night to the miscellaneous posts, the randomness that is me, etc. 🙂

This is a story that I started several weekends ago, inspired by the street lights I can see from my office window. For some reason, the town we live in has this sort of grugdyness feel…as if it has lived its heyday, and has let itself go. There are still a lot of nooks, and sweet spots to find, but they are like the diamond in the rough, difficult to see against all that grey.

Anyway, here goes. It has no name yet, for now…we will call it…

“Endtown”

            The train rattled, a rata-tat-tat, a rata-tat-tat, ending with a drawn out horn as it whooshed past. The girl standing under the street light turned towards the sound. She could see the train’s cars flying past in between the distant buildings, a blur of colors, grey and blue and a burnt red all blending together. One minute there and the next gone. She tossed a ball up and down in her hands, up towards the street light, which turned everything in the darkness a pale sort of yellow.

She leaned down and squinted at some writing that someone had chalked onto the sidewalk: a hand with the middle finger sticking up all done up in orange and pink. Underneath the drawing someone had written in white chalk in capital letters: UP YOURS.

“Ridiculous,” she said as she paced back and forth. “So angry,” she muttered. “So…undisciplined.”

“You of all people should know,” said a hissing voice next to her elbow, with a faint laugh.

The girl jumped. “God! You scared the shit out of me!”

She looked down at a green and white striped snake who was stretched out on a blue garbage can. “Of all the forms you could choose, and you come to me like that.”

“Oh, forgive me your great worshipfulness,” hissed the snake. “Next time I’ll come as a chipmunk…or a kumquat.”

“A kumquat? What the hell is that? Anyway, it feels like I’m talking to the garbage can. I’m sure it looks like it, too.”

“Hey, if cans could talk,” said the snake, with a slither of his tongue and a wink. “I wonder what they would say?”

She looked across the street at a run down convenience store. It was a white square building, with a faded coco cola sign out front. “Probably something like it stinks in here.”  She noticed that the neon sign was supposed to say Jerry’s, but an R was missing. “Have you heard from the master tonight?”

“Not a thing. I thought that is why you called this meeting?”

“My job was to watch this small town. Watch the train, watch the exports, watch the people, and yet…nothing. I haven’t heard from anybody in weeks.”

“Have a little faith Gen,” said the snake. “That’s what we are here for.”

She folded her arms across her chest, as the wind rustled a chunk of brown hair by her face. Freckled, blue-eyed and dressed in a red t-shirt and shorts, she felt trapped by her boyish figure, by the fact that she never could grow up, no matter how much she wanted to. She scratched at the sweat that had gathered at the back of her neck.

“It must be on the train,” she said as she swatted at a fly that flew in front of her face. She watched with wide eyes as it buzzed in front of the snake who swallowed it down with a big gulp.

“You’re disgusting,” she said as she turned away. “I can’t believe I spend time with you.”

“You love me,” said the snake. “I just know it. Anyway, tell me about this town. Any diamonds in the rough?”

“Some. There was a baker who gave me an extra doughnut in my box yesterday, but he thought it was for my mother.”

The snake gave her a side-long glance. “How are the live-in parents doing?”

“Fine.”

He wasn’t stupid, he knew what she wasn’t saying.

Genevieve scratched at an itch on her nose. She wriggled her shoulders. The itch was spreading. It felt like the time she had gotten poison ivy when she was at summer camp.

“Can we go get a coffee or something?” she said as she scratched at the freckles on her arms. “I can’t stand under this street light anymore. I feel like a hooker.”

The snake snorted. “You’re breaking out in hives again, aren’t you?”

“I am not.”

“You worry too much.” He flicked his tail toward her and managed to poke her in the side. She glared at him.

“Stop that,” she said.

“I don’t think snakes drink coffee.”

“Change then,” she said and she was already walking down the street. She heard a grunt, and then there was the sound of footsteps behind her.

She looked down at her mentor’s blue tennis shoes, jeans and then up to his blonde-silver hair. His brown eyes twinkled with mischief. “So, where are we going?”

The only thing open was a 24-hour diner that promised the best fried chicken this town has to offer! “That’s promising,” muttered the girl as they walked inside. “And there’s a KFC next door.”

“They are hardly the best,” said their hostess, as she grabbed their menus. She had long, silky brown hair and smooth skin. “Will you guys be having dinner? We have a separate dinner, dessert and breakfast menu. ”

The man standing next to Genevieve scratched at his head. “Haven’t decided yet. Why don’t you give us all three.”

Over pancakes, sausage, and bacon they talked about the master’s plan.

To Be Continued…