Haven: The Story of Lightning Chapter Two

Haven: Chapter Two

Shadow made his way into the Great Forest in search of Lightning his nephew. He knew to tread carefully in the home of the Animal Council. Any social misstep here could cause the Unicorns to lose face and the trust of all the animals of Haven.

I hate this place; he thought as he moved along an old path that would take him deep into the ancient woods. “Second time this week,” he uttered in the disappointment of his nephew’s choice of actions. Shadow narrowed his eye as he spotted a movement to his left near the trunk of a tree. 

It drew shadow’s eyes to slight movement at the edge of a burrow. A young hare stuck his head out to glimpse the black unicorn. The hare offered a smile to Shadow, “Hello, Sir.” 

Shadow lowered his head coming nose to nose with the Hare. “Are you a… a… un… uni… unicorn?” the young hare stuttered. Shadow exhaled through his nostrils knocking the young hare backward to the ground as he said, “Boo.” He watched and smiled as the hare rushed back into his family burrow.

Shadow chuckled as he moved along the path carefully to not crush any smaller animals beneath his hoofs. He noticed the increase in the odor from the mold as the air was becoming rich with moisture due to the approaching storm. He wrinkled his nostrils at the offending scent of the deep forest.

Few animals dared to stray out of their burrows and nests as the black unicorn passed. They all knew from the time of Thunder and Shadow’s father Zore that the black unicorn could be cruel when upset. It was because of this temper that Zore passed the mantle of Alpha to Thunder rather than Shadow.

Shadow loved the fear in the face of every animal that met with him. He preferred fear he earned to the respect that Thunder carried among the animals of Haven or the Love they all expressed towards Rain. He had no taste for what he felt was a weakness of character.

Shadow knew of his reputation among the animals but knew no one would dare speak ill of him to Thunder. Shadows anger was swift and unjustified in its level when triggered. Shadow may not have been a predator of their flesh, but he is a vicious predator of the inhabitant’s minds and imaginations.

Shadow paused and his ears twitched. He could hear a commotion up ahead near the center of the forest in an inhabited area. Shadow crept towards the growing ruckus. The previous clattering and stomping from ahead found itself now accompanied by the sounds of laughter.

Shadow pressed on into the forest in search of what he found to be an offending noise. He had no time for laughter. So, why should others have the joy that was never an option for him?

He always had to be Shadow “Brother to the Alpha” or “Beta of the Unicorn herd.” These whispered titles angered him. Each time she overheard the whispers it only made him dwell on his past and how he, the eldest, overlooked for Alpha. Instead, given to the younger brother Thunder.

Shadow’s horn glowed a sickly green, “come.” He scanned the nearby forest for his soldiers. A smile took hold as his visitors came.

A great and powerful grey wolf and its pack came out of the shadows and knelt before him, “Master, what would you have of us?” Shadow puffed his chest with pride at his lording over another beast. “Where is Lightning?”

“He is just ahead. We followed him as you asked. He is with those friends of his,” The Alpha Wolf reported. Shadow growled, “He will never grow up as long as he keeps messing with those weasels.” “You want us to get rid of them once and for all?” The massive beast asked.

“No, not just yet,” Shadow responded. The Alpha Wolf nodded in understanding, “Well, sir. Is there some other task?” Shadow exhaled, “No, go back to watching my daughter her ambitions will ruin my plans if we do not keep her focused.” 

The Alpha and his pack bound away into the woods to resume their task. Shadow returned his attention to the sounds of laughter ahead of his path. He resumed his approach to the offending sounds.

Shadow was ashamed by what he witnessed as he entered the origin point of the noises. His face filled with shame as he lowered his head, “Lightning! What is all this?” Rage replaced the shame as his nostrils flared seeing the scene ahead. 

Lightning, Shadows’ nephew, was thrashing about in play with two teenaged weasels. The weasel’s and Lightning had always been, close friends. When there was mischief the threesome was at the center of the mess. 

“Come on, get it off my head,” Lightning laughed and called out to the weasel holding a bundle of moss across his eyed as a blindfold. Shadow grew impatient as he realized that his nephew had either ignored him or choose not to hear him, “LIGHTNING!” Shadow dug his hoof into the ground. He stepped close to Lightning.

The embarrassing actions of his nephew overtook Shadows’ emotions as he saw the eyes of every forest animal point at the unicorns childish heir. “You’re embarrassing us all again,” Shadow growled under his breath.  

Lightning swung around trying to nip at the second weasel as he ran along his back tickling him. “Gonna make you pee, lightning,” laughed the second weasel, Slicker. Lightning missed and crashed into Shadow sending all four sprawling to the forest floor with a loud series of thuds. The three friends laughed, but Shadow scowled.

The laughter of the friends turned to snickers and then to silence as they realized what they had done. Shadow was the first to return upright. As Lightning rose Shadow pressed him back to the ground, “I am tired of covering for you, Lightning. Do you know what time it is?” 

The observing animals of the forest retreated into their dens and burrows. The black unicorns presence terrified all on the island. They all knew of the predatory soldiers at his beck and call that would kill them all if he so wanted it. 

Disappointment filled Lightnings expression as the realization of what Shadow was talking about. Shadow stepped backward and away from Lightning, “That’s right. You missed the run again.” Lightning while disappointed shrugged, “Why do we do that every day? I mean, we could miss a day. The veil has always and will always be here it’s not going anywhere, Shadow.”

Shadow noticed the forest fill with prying eyes watching and listening to the words they were sharing. “Be silent, Lightning.”  “This is neither the time nor place for this conversation,” Shadow gestured to the many animals watching what was happening. “Your actions today cause the whole herd to lose face. They will never respect you at this rate. Now, let’s try to catch up to the herd,” Shadow glared at his nephew.

Lightning trotted away followed by his friends, Slick and Slicker. Shadow noticed the pair and stepped in their path. “Not you!” Shadow scolded the brothers. Slicker seemed about to speak when Shadow snorted at them. They rushed off in a blur to hide from the sometimes-violent back unicorn. 

Shadow caught up with his nephew and then he matched pace. “Why do you do these things? You know as the next Alpha. You must be a leader you can’t just…” Shadow began but gets cut off by Lightning. “Why? Huh? Why do I have to be the next Alpha? What if I don’t want to be it?” Lightning blurted out.

Shadow steps in front of Lightning and glares at him. “What do you mean? You don’t want to be alpha?” Shadow scorns. “It’s an honor being chosen to become the next Alpha,” Lightning mocks his father’s words, “Blah, Blah, Blah. Yeah, I have heard it all before. No one ever asked me what I want. What if I had other plans?”

Shadow’s glare intensified as Lightning continued his childish rant, “you were so lucky that they made my dad alpha and not you. Grandpa did you a favor if you ask me.” “That’s it,” Shadow’s nostrils flared his anger erupted, “You don’t get it! Being made alpha is the greatest thing that could ever happen to one of our herd! I should have been alpha not your father! I was the eldest! I was the firstborn! It was my right!”

Lightning recoiled as Shadow continued his character-defining rant. “Thunder should never have been Alpha! But no one, not Zore, The Animal Council, or Thunder would let me become alpha! They were all against me,” Shadow lowered his head. “I would have been a great alpha, but they never gave me the chance,” Shadow gave words to his growing feelings of shame. 

Lightning pressed his head against Shadows neck in a show of empathy, “I know it may not mean much, but I think you would have made a great alpha.” Shadow looked up to Lightning as a tear traced a path down his face. “You mean that?” Shadow was begging for a compliment. Lightning nodded, “You’re my uncle and I trust you.”

Shadow chuckled, “Thank you. I mean that.” He raised his head and shook his mane. “We need to get going. If we will catch up with the herd.” Shadow reared up and galloped off to rejoin the herd. Lightning smiled as he watched Shadow moving away knowing his uncle would always be there for him. 

Lightning raised his front and whinnied. He rushed off to follow his uncle and rejoin the herd. He burst through the underbrush leaving his buddies Slick and Slicker behind.

“He knows they never made Shadow alpha because he is so mean, right?” Slick looked to his brother Slicker as concern clung on his face. “I don’t think so. We need to keep an eye on him as Keeper asked us too,” Slicker nodded accepting their duty. 

https://www.amazon.com/Haven-Story-Lightning-Roger-Alderman/dp/1790578574/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1545249509&sr=8-3&keywords=haven%3A+the+story+of+lightning

Haven: The Story of Lightning - chapter one

Haven: Chapter One

The clouds are always so beautiful at this height, thought Scout to himself as he soared above the majestic island that rested far below. He spread his wings wide allowing the sunlight to bring its gentle warmth to each of his great feathers. Scout the Gold Eagle was the ruling councils trusted emissary and watchful eye over the islands many inhabitants.

Scout released a mighty call as he twisted into a downward arch. This allowed him to pick up a great deal of speed to better move across the island to check in on the animals. Scout burst from the concealment of the clouds racing towards the earth below.

Scout brought his wings out to pull out of the plummet to a level but hurried pace. He found himself accompanied by a gentle breeze. Today his observation would begin in the great meadow on the Island known as Haven. 

The cool breeze moves past the wide pasture lands full of countless varieties of colorful and fragrant flowers. Scout loved gazing down on the countless flowers of every color in the rainbow that filled the sprawling meadow in every color of the rainbow. After centuries of wild cross-pollination has resulted in many kinds of plants that do not exist in the world beyond the meadows boundaries.

Scout rode along the breeze as its arrival signals the animals of rain by this day’s end. The Animals raised their head high to take in the many discerning scents of the meadow, however, the most dominant odor beyond the fragrance of the flowers was the earthy scent of the coming rain. The coming rains are a welcomed addition to the ebb and flow of life here helping to renew the fields of the great bounty that feed the residents of the meadow.

Boundless herds of grazing wildlife of every breed, shape, and size have made its home in this vast meadow. The great herds of wildlife here travel together to help protect their friends and families from the dangers of the natural world. Each herd keeping a watchful eye out for the many predatory animals that hide among the tall savannah-like grass that cover the meadow they all share.

The animals that dwell here understanding that life and death are inseparable truths of existence. Only through the cycle of death and birth can nature maintain the proper balance. The animals here understand that too much of either would through the balance of which might lead to all life here being wiped out. 

Scout smiled that today showed no signs of death among the herds. He turned to make his approach to the Great Forest of Haven. The Forest was home to the Animal Council, to whom he owed his loyalty along with every animal of Haven. 

Scout watched as the breeze stirred the many breeds of bees pollinating the flowers of the ancient meadows. Just beyond the limits of the meadows, majestic ancient trees reach high into the sky as if they could touch the clouds above. The Massive trees cover and protect the wildlife below allowing each of the many species to grow in sheer volume of life.

The great canopy of trees offers the chance for a fungus to grow in the limited Lite source and earthy smelling renewal of the fallen leaves and branches from above. Molds of every breed dwell in the ancient forest working their magic here in the process of rebirth by eliminating the debris on the forest floor. The sickly-sweet odor of the various molds and fungus fills the air of the forest floor. 

Scout moved between the trees with precision and grace. The animals waved at his passing as they knew so long as he made his passing all was good on Haven. Scout offered a perceptible wink as he passed to acknowledge those below. 

The forest floor stirs with life as vast and plentiful as the neighboring meadow. High above the forest floor dwells a multitude of bird species and tree-dwelling animals hide in the trees protected from the elements of nature.

Life, as it always does, has dwelt in the dense old forest both on the floor and high among the branches. Among the roots and tubers of the forest floor dwell rodents, insects, snakes, and many other animals that have lived and continue to live their lives unmolested by the corrupting influence of mankind. Just like the animals of the meadow. The forest animals enjoy the abundance of food and water found here on Haven.

Scout exploded out of the Great Forest in sight of the long sprawling sandy shore of the encompassing beach of Haven. While it was not his favorite location, it was the bountiful sea that brought the fish into the shallow tidal pools that fed most of the animals of this beautiful hidden island.

Beyond the wide reach of the ageless forest lays the beaches that surround the island with pristine sands. The surrounding beach of the protected island the green-blue waves of the ocean wash against the shore. Bringing the bounty of the sea to those who hunt along the off-white sands and shells. 

The encircling coral barrier that surrounds the island has created massive coves from which flocks of birds feed on the sea life brought into these places by the tidal flow.

Scout did not care for the shore, but he enjoyed what was to come. He loved to watch a special herd of animals on their daily path. Animals that no longer dwelled anywhere else on Earth. He looked sharp towards the horizon. He smiled as he heard the sound he sought each passing day.

Hordes of Crabs of all sizes fled the coastline as the ground moved under them. A throng of Seagulls left their meals on the shore and made their way high above to clear the path of the oncoming heard. Rolling blue translucent waves washed the shoreline clear of the animals to slow or small to get out of the way as the thunderous noise grew to a powerful crescendo.

Sounds of rolling thunder alert all the animals along the coast of the approach of a special herd of island inhabitants. The approaching herd holds great respect among all the animals of the secret island. The Island of Haven has been home to a herd of mythical and Magical Unicorns.

Scout banked his flight to take him to pass the herd. “Good morning Unicorns!” He called out as he raced past the head of the herd. Scout spun giving himself a moment of weightlessness which allowed him to offer a military-like salute to them. He recovered and continued on his way leaving the Unicorns far behind.

Ahead of the procession of Unicorns galloped their Alpha a tall and majestic white unicorn with a golden bolt of hair in the shape of lightning on his face. Thunder the stern, but a benevolent leader of the unicorns has led the herd for several decades. His mate Rain a and off-white unicorn with the slightest hint of blue to her color followed behind Thunder.

Every day it was the Alpha’s duty to lead the herd around the perimeter of the island which allowed their enchantment to maintain Haven’s in a Shroud of Storms that obscured the island from the rest of the world. It was the herds’ job to protect all of Haven from any who would bring harm to the island or its inhabitants. The Animal Council held power over the day-to-day functions of Haven, but power fell to the Unicorn protectors during times of strife.

As Thunder and the herd made their way across the meadow. Thunder slowed to a trot with a look of confusion in his face. “What is it?” Rain asked due to the sudden change of pace. 

“Where is he?” Thunder shook his mane in agitation. Rain lowered her head in submission and worry, “He must have slipped away as we passed the forest. He is still a child,” Rain begged. 

Thunder stopped, and the herd followed suit. Thunder spun to face Rain, “Lightning may be our son but he still must earn the herds respect if he’s becoming Alpha. I am not getting any younger and have to pass the mantle to someone. If he’s unready, I don’t know what will happen. To the herd, the Council, or To Haven.” Rain and the herd agreed with Thunders warning. 

The black unicorn, Shadow, brother to Thunder and Uncle to Lightning pressed his way from the rear of the herd. “Thunder? What is it what is wrong?” Shadow panted as he spoke. “Lightning.” Rain whispered.

“Ran off again?” Shadow asked. Thunder stepped close to Shadow, “Yes, I…” Shadow looked to the herd waiting to press onward and then turned back to his brother, “I’ll go collect him. You should lead them on the path. I will find him and we will catch up.” 

Thunder relaxed his brow and peace filled his expression, “Thank you, brother. I don’t know what we would ever do without you.” A smile crossed Rain’s face as she watched Thunder calm to the situation. “Thank you, Shadow,” Rain nodded to her mates’ brother.

Shadow turned and bolted off towards the Great Forest. Thunder faced the waiting herd, “All right everyone let’s get going the veil will not maintain itself.” The many loyal unicorns nodded and rushed off behind Thunder and Rains lead.

Rain could not forget the words spoken by Thunder about their son’s naivety. She knew by Lightnings age Thunder had matured. She knew the herd had been very watchful Lightning and his childish ways. 

“Thunder please he’s just…” Rain began. “Just what? A child? No, Rain, he is of age to become the next Alpha. He is making a mockery of our family and our burden of Alpha,” Thunder demanded.

Rain recoiled realizing how furious Thunder was with their son. She took a deep breath to find better words to calm the situation before her son's return. “What is it going to take for you to lighten up on him, Thunder? You know you were just about as childish as him when you were younger,” Rain whisper to Thunder.

Thunder scowled in response to her perceived insult, “This is not the time.” Rain nuzzled against Thunder's head, “can you stop being so serious for one minute. If you could you would see he needs room to grow. We have forced him into a position he may not even want. He’s young still and wants to first learn who he is. Before we try to make him what we want him to be.”

 Thunder closes his eyes and dwells on the words his wife offered. “Perhaps you’re right, but I can feel the magic of our tribe leaving me. My time as Alpha is ending. I hope he figures out his life before the magic consumes me,” Thunder whispers to his bride.

Thunder and Rain close their eyes and embrace each other. “I am sure he will, Thunder. Between Keeper and us we will get him through all this,” Rain says with a gentle smile. Thunder’s love for his family was never more obvious until this minute. She saw the reflection of the Unicorn she had fallen in love within his eyes.

https://www.amazon.com/Haven-Story-Lightning-Roger-Alderman/dp/1790578574/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1545249509&sr=8-3&keywords=haven%3A+the+story+of+lightning

Updates? where did I go?

Hello Everyone,

Sorry, I have been gone a bit, but it was all for productivity. In my absence, I have written a new novella called "Haven: The Story of Lightning." I am going to start posting selections from that book today across all social media platforms. If you like what you read I will include links for both paperback and Ebooks on Amazon. That being said, I will be posting at least one new short story per month, but also will be publishing one new book each month as well. That is up to ten books total for this year, as I will be doing NaNoWriMo in 2019.

Thanks,
Roger Alderman

New revised first chapter for Bright Road: "Purgatory"

CHAPTER ONE

A classic blue 1984 Ford LTD sedan sits struggling to idle outside of the hospital emergency room entranceway. Its doors are open revealing the interior of the vehicle is coated in patches of freshly dripping and oozing blood. SARAH, a ghostly little girl in a knee-length tattered nightshirt, emerges from the car and smiles. 

Her attention moves to a dark thick trail of blood that winds through the hospital halls, a trail which ends at the operating room doors. A woman’s voice echoes its pleas through the hospital, “No! No! No! Not Again!”

Inside the operating room, JESSE ABLE’s small body writhes in pain in the center of a whirlwind of doctors and nurses struggle to save his life. A nurse leads VICTORIA and ROGER ABLE from the room, as more staff enters to help, “for us to help you need to clear out.” 

Victoria and Roger stare helplessly at one another outside of the operating room. Roger watches in confusion, as the waves of medical staff moving around them like a whirlwind, “What’s going on?” Roger pulls his wife close to offer comfort, but careful to not allow her to filthy her outfit on his grease-covered coveralls. 

Victoria still wearing her work clothes cries, “It’s just like before…” Roger embraces her, as she sobs uncontrollably. Additional medical staff rushes past the couple and into the operating room. Sarah stands at the far end of the hallway in a devilish silhouette in the morning sunlight, as it passes through a large window.

Jesse’s terror-driven words echo through the halls of the hospital, “Get away from me! Mom! Dad!” Doctors attempt to comfort him, “Calm down were trying to help!” Sarah’s demonic smile shows, as she dances and twirls undetected in the chaos.

Dr. Daily emerges from the operating room. Roger and Victoria rush to the doctor side with hope in their expression. The doctor makes short work of their moment of hope, “We did all we could, but…” 

Roger turns to Doctor Daily a deeply furrowed brow, as he takes heavy determined steps towards him, “After everything you have done to him.”  Roger stops just inches from the Doctors face. 

Dr. Daily instinctively raises his arms defensively between himself and the dead boys' father. Dr. Daily takes a deep breath before beginning his plead for understanding, “I told you the infection had spread throughout his entire body. We have been doing everything we could to help him.”

  

Roger grabs and lifts Doctor Daily by his jacket. The Men slam hard against the operating room wall. Pictures and the doctors' chart fall to the floor. Victoria places a loving hand on Roger’s shoulder, “Please. Stop.” Roger shakes his head and releases the Doctor. 

Dr. Daily picks up Jesse’s chart and thumbs through several pages. He stops looking and slowly closes the chart, as he lowers his head, “He body is exhausted. The Zocyn and Vancomycin had begun to hurt his body more than help.” He pauses seeing the pain and sorrow filling the faces of Jesse’s parents. Dr. Daily whispers and lowers his head, “We have stabilized him for now. You should spend some time with him before.”

The doctor walks away in shame. Victoria loses her composure and collapses into a heap sobbing. Roger sits on the hallway floor holding his wife. The doctor pauses and turns to the couple, “We will get him to a room for you. Sit tight for us in the Waiting room. While we get everything set.” Roger and Victoria nods and rise. They follow the doctor to the waiting room.  

Inside the hospital waiting area Victoria sits at a small kitchen table holding her cell phone, “we should call my mom. She’ll come up here.” An episode of Ghost Whisperer plays on the television in the room. Roger nods into her in agreement, “you want me to call her?” The housekeeper scrubs away at the coffee stains on the counter top near the shallow sink. 

Sarah smiles watching the couple struggle to remain civil in a moment of utter despair. She enjoys being unseen by the living, as she stands in front of Victoria mocking her every motion and emotions. Sarah settles on top of the small kitchen table staring at the housekeeper.

The housekeeper blinks repeatedly as Sarah influences her to believe she has completed cleaning the room. The housekeeper turns and robotically exits the room. She forces the edge of her cleaning cart under the edge of the door handle and walks across the hallway to the restrooms. 

A loud alarm sounds surprising the couple. They leap to their feet and rush to the door. The radio announces, “Code Blue Room 114! Code Blue Room 114!” “Open the door!” Victoria yells at Roger.

Sarah rock back and forth in the despicable delight of the torture she is inflicting on the couple. She hops off the table top and skips through the door joining the chaos in the hallway. She faces the couple and growls the words, “this next part will kill ya.”

Roger throws his shoulder against the door repeatedly, but the door has been blocked on the other side. Roger stares through the narrow door window and spots the housekeepers cart pressed against the door. The housekeepers moved along the opposite wall, as a tidal surge of medical specialists and staff move towards the site of the radio’s emergency announcement.

Roger lowers his head trying to reel in his emotions, “The housekeeper’s cart is wedged under the door handle. I can’t open it.” Victoria stands determined next to her husband, “we can do this together.” She nods to Roger, “On push, got it?” 

Sarah clutches at her abdomen as she laughs uncontrollably at Roger and Victoria. She mocks their struggles with the door, “Come on you can do it…” Her brow furrows and her eyes narrow, “Well, maybe this time anyway.”

Victoria and Roger lean against the door. Victoria roars, “Push god damn it!” Roger and Victoria’s combined effort threw the door open causing the cart to send several medical staff members tumbling over the unexpected reposition of the housekeeping cart.

Roger and Victoria trip and fall over the hallway pileup. Roger gets to his feet first and joins the wave of humanity moving to his son’s room. Victoria looks up in time to notice Roger disappearing into the crowd. She struggles to her feet along with the staff members.

Roger arrives outside Jesse’s room, but cannot enter as the room is filled with staff racing to save his son’s life. “Get out of my way!” Roger yells to no avail. Victoria bumps into his side. They look at each other helplessly. 

Roger and Victoria watch as the medical experts call upon centuries of experience to attempt to save Jesse. 

The couple watch as the confidence and ego of experts are torn asunder by the unknown. Roger stares on amazed by the line of the medical staff that reach their limit and leave the battle to save his son’s life. 

Victoria stops Dr. Daily as he leaves the room his eyes dart from side to side. “What did we do wrong?” Dr. Daily exhales aloud unaware of Roger or Victoria’s presence. Dr. Daily realizes he still has the gloves and scrubs on that are covered in the blood Jesse spewed on everyone. 

Sarah mocks the doctor’s emotions and motions as she exits the room behind him. She cannot hide her amusement with everything happening. Her eyebrows rise and a smile forms with a devious idea. 

Dr. Daily shakes his head vacant of the confidence he proudly displayed before the couple earlier this evening. He raises his head only to have no words to properly convey the disappointment in his talents and training. Jesse’s medical documents burst from the chart on impact with the floor below Dr. Daily. His eyes dart from page to page unable to form the words he needs to offer comfort to the parents. 

The couples hope bleeds away in their observation of the doctor who promised to save their child but failed them. Victoria pushes away from Roger taking a single step towards Dr. Daily. The doctor faces away from the couple, “I’m sorry you should say something it won’t be long now.” 

Roger and Victoria push past the doctor to enter their son’s room. Medical equipment continues to beep and chip as Roger and Victoria enter. Roger cannot handle the emotions that turn his fear into hate and anger. He walks to the window to conceal his growing feelings of dread and takes a deep breath. 

Victoria has always been the more accepting of her emotions. She hits hard against Jesse’s bedside and erupts in a deluge of tears and wails of coming loss. She picks up her son’s near lifeless hands, “He’s cold.” She immediately works his blankets into a cocoon to protecting in the only way fate has left for her son. 

Sarah sits in an oversized recliner made for friends and family to remain with their ill family members. She cracks her neck to the right and utters an exhausted, “this part always takes too long.” She watches as Jesse’ s life trickles away with the last of the fluids moving into his body from the IV lines. 

Roger studies the approaching storm as he realizes a long day is ahead of his little family. He pays close attention to remain facing away from his wife as his despair take the form of a large single tear that carves its way through the dirt and grease of the days' labors that still cover his face. He does not want her to think he is weak. He knows he will need strength enough for both his wife and the family that will be coming.

Sarah watches as the small boy’s spirit lowers his head unable to offer the comfort of simply holding his father’s hand in these last moments. Jesse studies his hands in confusion as they can no longer reach his father. The tears and wails of his mother draw him to her side. Without a thought, he reaches out to hug and comfort his mother.  

Jesse cannot hold her as death’s cruel joke expresses itself endlessly by not allowing any fallen being from reaching across the veil to interact with the living. 

The confused boy climbs like atop the bed and looks around the room. The sadness of the moment hits him hard as he loses hold of his emotions and begins sobbing into his palms. Jesse cries unheard and separated from those he loves most injured the world. The exhaustion of the day weighs heavily on the young spirit. 

Jesse claws and drags himself back inside his body out of instinct. The world fades from sight as the boy’s spirit slumbers in its once protective shell.

The Sleepwalker

The Sleepwalker

By: Roger Alderman

To this day I am unsure why I have been tasked to witness the evils of this small town, Port St. John Florida. It seems as if I am cursed to only awaken from the empty void of nothingness for no other reason than to hear the tales of depravity that for some reason people choose to share over a quiet meal in an unremarkable roadside diner. Who am I to judge why people do the things they do?

This time I was awoken from my slumber by the arrival of a pair of forty-year-old professionally dressed women, Gail Woods and Tanya Hunter. They had arranged their late afternoon luncheon to discuss the passing of a client of Tanya’s. Robert had been a client of hers for the better part of two years due to “incidents” that he was experiencing during episodes of sleepwalking. 

The delicious scent of the day’s special was stuffed green peppers topped with shredded pepper jack cheese. The food was cooked until the cheese had turned a light brown. This created a wonderfully burnt pungency that only seemed to add to the atmosphere of the small-town diner. The aroma clearly worked its magic on the lunchtime customers, as there was no plate empty of this day special.

The waitress presented menus and eating utensils, “Can I start you off with drinks? While you look over the menus?” Gail and Tanya smiled and took the menus from the kind waitress. They each ordered a sweet ice tea and settled into their booth across from one another. 

“I know we’re not supposed to do this, but I need to talk,” Tanya whispers to not alarm the Diner’s other customers. Gail took Tanya’s hand in hers, “It’s okay to talk to me. Though I would have preferred my office for this discussion, we gotta eat.” Tanya nods at Gail’s statement, “It’s about my client Robert, the sleepwalker.” 

The waitress returned with the condensation covered sweat ice teas in plastic soft drink cups and placed them on the tables' drink coasters. She offered a smile to Gail and Tanya, “Have you decided on what you would like?” Tanya shook her head in a defiant, No. Gail smiled at the waitress and eagerly asked, “Those stuffed peppers look amazing,” as she gestured to an elderly couple eating the lunch special nearby. 

Tanya saw the elderly couple’s plates and asked, “I’ll take the stuffed peppers. They look amazing.” The waitress nodded and smile in understanding. Gail quickly added, “I’ll have the same.” The waitress took the menus and walked away to place the new lunch order.

“Go ahead?” Gail pleads after seeing the tormented form on Tanya’s face in just mentioning her client's name. Tanya nodded and slid a worn leather journal across the table to Gail, as she sipped at her Sweat Ice Tea. Gail seemed reluctant to take the journal at first, but Tanya’s insistent look help persuade her otherwise.  

Gail opened the journal and began to read. The waitress returned with their lunch order. They spread their napkins across their laps and dug into their meal, as Gail started the journey of a fallen man’s words. 

Gail seemed taken back at the very first sentence contained in the volume that read, “I am cursed.” Her training kept her to task and she began to devour the contents of the journal. With each new page, she took another bite of her lunch. 

The following was the story of one man’s descent into the darkness of being cursed by Voodoo. (real or imagined)

I have been into landscaping since I was old enough to use a push mower. It helped keep me too exhausted in my teens to go out and get into trouble. I am the type of person that became addicted to working after that first bit of cash was given to me. After completing a good afternoon’s work. 

The biggest issue with working so hard for me comes in the form of sleeping deeply. I swear, I could probably sleep through a volcanic eruption according to my wife. Not that I ever want to test that theory. 

My wife asked me to get checked out by my doctor to make sure my deep sleeping is not due to some unnoticed illness or something. So, I made the appointment and the doctor ordered a bunch of tests, but everything came back normal. After my last visit with him I left angry and depressed after he told me, “Robert, some people are just deep sleepers. Try not to focus on it so much. You’re healthy as a horse.” 

John, a friend of mine and a fellow landscaper, asked me to help him out with a few clients after that last hurricane. I agreed almost immediately as the clients were close to customers of mine. Everything was going fine until the last client an elderly black woman named Miss. Edna. Her lawn was overgrown like everyone else’s, but the debris was bad. So, we cleared the lot, mowed, and trimmed the property.

When Miss. Edna arrived, she parked quickly and rushed out of her car screaming in hysterics. I ran to her side making sure she was okay, but to my surprise, she slapped me across the face. Her diamond wedding ring cut a gouge across my cheek. 

I stood holding my cheek as blood poured from the wound. “What the fuck!” I demanded from the elderly woman. By this point, her neighbors were watching through their windows or they had joined us on the lawn. “What did you do?” She asked through clenched teeth in her thick Jamaican accent. 

I stood there shaking my head not understanding what I had done. Man, hindsight is always twenty-twenty and if I only knew then what I know now. “You destroyed my husband’s memory tree!” she yelled. I was tempted to explain that I had never been told about the newly planted “Memory Tree.” However, with all the judgmental looks and shaking heads of the growing crowd, I offered apologies.

The apology was not enough for her no matter how heartfelt it was. She slapped me again across the face and spat at the ground. She stormed into her house her hand covered in the blood from my facial wound. Some of the neighbors snickered others left in disgust at what had just occurred. 

At this point, I had enough of all the drama after all I apologized and offered to plant another tree. I couldn’t replant the tree as we feed all the debris through the wood chipper. There was nothing left of the memory tree that was able to be planted. I was sure that offering her the wood chips to her would not help the situation. 

We left Miss. Edna’s and sure enough less than a block away John called. “Dude, what did you do?” he asked. I explained the situation and he sighed loudly, “I forgot to tell you about the Memory Tree for her husband.” I yelled angrily at him so much my helpers became uncomfortable and John apologized to me for not telling me about her property.  

“Poor Guy,” Gail offered as she stopped eating long enough to drink some of her sweet tea and wipe her mouth. “Robert says later that Miss. Edna called him and started talking gibberish,” Tanya flipped several pages forward in the journal and pointed. Gail looked down and read the passage, “Okay, he felt that Miss. Edna put a curse on him for destroying the memory tree?” 

Tanya nodded a vehement “yes” at Gail’s observation. Gail immediately shook her head, “do you know how racist that is? I mean seriously an elderly black woman with a Jamaica accent is also a voodoo priestess?” Gail shook her head in disbelief at the thought. “I understand, but it comes from a small town with limited exposure to other cultures. Robert got it honestly,” Tanya sat back in her seat and looked around at the locals who occupied the other booths. 

Gail chuckled, “My, how absolutely judgmental of you.” “Keep reading he talks about the starting of his sleepwalking after the call form this Miss. Edna,” Tanya gestured to the journal. Gail sighed and flipped forward until Tanya motioned for her to start reading again. 

Becca, my wife, told me over my morning coffee that last night I was sleepwalking again. “What do you mean, again?” I asked. She told me that for the past few nights I had been sleepwalking through the house. I asked her, “Why didn’t you wake me up?” She said she had read somewhere that waking a sleepwalker was very bad. She tried to explain it to me, but to me, it was all just nonsense. 

I went to work and thought about it for the rest of the day. The next morning, sure enough, Becca told me that I was sleepwalking again. I nodded in understanding. What she told me next was very disturbing. Becca showed me a bandage on her right forearm. I immediately asked what happened? and Did I do that?

Becca explained that last night she was awakened by a loud crashing sound like silver wear scattering across a tile floor. She said I was not in bed. She grabbed my old wooden bat from little league and made her way through the house until reaching the kitchen. That is where she found me standing eyes closed holding a large kitchen knife to my wrist. 

Becca pointed and showed me where I had begun to cut myself with the serrated edge of the large kitchen knife. I was floored by the revelation. She explained that even though I was sleepwalking she had to me to fight to take the knife and in exchange, she had been cut across the forearm. She was protecting me and did not deserve any of this.

I called off work and we went to my doctor’s office once again seeking help to stop these nightly episodes. Again, after several tests, we learned nothing. That is when he recommended seeking out psychological help as sometimes there may be a mental reason for these events. I agreed as things were turning violent and becoming more and more dangerous each night.

Gail shook her head at what she had just read and gestured to Tanya, “That is when he became your client?” Tanya sipped at her sweet ice tea while nodding as she held a remorseful expression on her face. Tanya sat her drink down and interlaced her fingers as she rested her arms on the tabletop, “I thought it was a simple case of sleepwalking triggered by his guilt and sense of duty.” “Was it?” Gail asked. “I am not so sure, Gail. Maybe I missed diagnosed his condition altogether.” 

“Why would you think that? You can’t blame yourself for his death. You gave him the tools he obviously didn’t make use of them,” Gail declared defensively. Tanya shook her head gently, No at the thought. “Each appointment was worse than the time before. He was clearly spiraling down and I missed all the signs.” Gail walked around to Tanya’s side of the table and embraced her friend trying to calm her racing thoughts. 

Tanya sobbed as her friend offered to comfort her, “Just don’t know how I missed the signs?” “He was clearly hiding them from both you and his wife. I bet if we continue to read. He will more than likely admit to it.” Gail flipped a few pages past where she had left off in her previous reading. 

It’s like the whole world is closing in around me. Choking me trying to strangle the life from me every day the noose seems to tighten that she put around my neck. The majority of my clients canceled our contracts due to the confrontation between Miss Edna and I… That was over six weeks ago now? 

Last Night in my Dream… Nightmare, I was being chased through a forest by an army of shadow people. The forest dead-ended at a cliff overlooking the crashing waves of the ocean below. As the shadow people closed I knew I needed to jump. So, I got ready to leap, but at the last second, I heard someone call my name. I turned around and was surprised to see Miss Edna standing there in weird and frightening face paint. I was terrified and when I started to speak she pushed me back off the cliff.

I was awoken by Becca screaming my name and immediately lost my balance. I fell from the roof above our front door and landed on the porch. I almost broke my ankle but was sent home with a severe strain and a torn ligament. I hope Dr. Hunter will see me on such short notice. This sleepwalking has to stop before I kill myself. 

No one believes, me not my Becca or Dr. Hunter. I have continued to plead with both. They both are unconvinced about the curse Miss. Edna put on me almost three weeks ago. Everything is falling apart around me I tell you everything I touch turns to shit.

I have decided against my wife and the doctor’s opinions to go and once again try a to smooth things over with Miss Edna. She has to understand I did not mean anything against her or her family when I accidentally cut down the Memory Tree. Pray that she is understanding by this point in time. 

Gail looks up from the journal and sees the tears still streaming down the cheeks of Tanya, “was this?” Tanya wiped the tears and her nose with a napkin, “yeah, that was his last entry in the journal before they found him.” Gail lowered her head and embraced her dearest friend again, “I’m so sorry.” Tanya planted her face into the chest of her friend, as other customers attention shifted to the crying woman in the booth.

“They found him in the kitchen of his home. He had open slit his arms with a kitchen knife from elbow to wrist.” Tanya exhaled loudly. She blew her nose and continued, “But he had also stabbed Becca to death in their bedroom.” “Oh My God, honey, I’m so sorry,” Gail gasped. 

“That’s not the worst part though,” Tanya continued. A puzzled look filled Gail’s face, “What do you mean?” The color left Tanya’s face as she looked into Gail’s eyes, “I went to tell Miss Edna to ask her to forgive Robert, as he had passed. But before I could say anything she slapped me and her ring cut open my check. Then she spat on me and began screaming at me.” “Crazy old bitch!” Gail declared angrily. 

Tanya shook her head as her mascara continued to mix with her tears marking her face with long black stains running the length of her face. “What’s wrong, Tanya?” Gail asked. “My husband has caught me sleepwalking,” Tanya cried out. 

That house on Falcon has spirit

That House of Falcon has Spirit

By: Roger Alderman Jr.

The jail’s private guest meeting room smelled of sweat and mildew were the first things Paul Andersen noted when he entered. That odor was quickly trumped by the stench that came from the old inmate sitting in his aged wheelchair. The old man wore tattered prison blues and a stained off-white undershirt. His face was worn and dark from prolonged exposure to the sun from the recreation yard. 

The old inmate, Glenn, stunk of body odor and urine. Paul noted a small slow flowing stream coming from the lower corner of Glenn’s catheter bag. Glenn’s pant leg was wet with urine from the improperly placed catheter. This resulted in a slow leak from his penis as urine built up. Paul realized that the medical staff of a prison had little time to deal with such things.   

The inmate was covered in a blue warming blanket that had definitely not been washed in the past few weeks. Paul watched as bugs roamed across the surface of the blanket and no doubt below as well. Glenn scowled at the man standing across from him, “What the fuck do you want? They said you were my attorney.” Glenn clearly did not like being disturbed and thought to himself, who is this fucking guy? Especially by some clown in his white button-down shirt and black slacks.

“I am here as part of an investigation,” Paul sat down on the chair across the metallic green and rust covered table. “What investigation?” Glenn demanded. “When I talked to the Sheriff’s deputy he said you can tell me about Port Saint John Florida,” Paul started. Glenn nodded and cleared his throat.

 “Sure, I suppose, I lived in Port Saint John Florida nearly all my life,” Glenn said with a tone of remorse building in his voice. The sickly old man shifted in his wheelchair under the filthy warming blanket, as the younger man examined his statement for red flags. Paul flattened his mustache with his right hand careful to not jab himself with his medium tipped blue ink pen. “Okay, Glenn, what can you tell me about the house on Falcon?” Paul pointed at Glenn with his pen in hand.  

 “What’s your interest in that old place?” Glenn glared clearly offended by the young man’s presence. Paul looked down at his yellow legal-sized tablet to quickly remind himself of the bullet point he needed to cover with Glenn. “I and My team were asked to help a young couple that moved into your family’s old home,” Paul found himself pleading with the unhappy older man. “What’s that got to do with me,” Glenn demanded. Paul stood up and stretched, “Look last night was a long night for us. We need you to tell us about your time there? Can you help? Or am I wasting my time?”

Glenn glared at the impatient man as he clenched his liver-spotted fists under the blue blanket. Paul walked to the locked metal door and signaled the guard through the small thick glass window. Paul turned to face the old man in the wheelchair, “Last chance, Glenn, once I leave no one will ever believe your story.” Paul banged on the metal door then he turned to face Glenn, “Just as some small-town psychopath. That should have been executed for all the lives you took. Is that how you want to be remembered?”

 “Everyone knows I got cancer and I’ll be dead before eighty-eight. Why bother?” Glenn asked shaking his head dismissive of the memories that begin to come forward in his thoughts. Paul watched the angry old man’s face become mournful even though his words still lashed out at the world that judged him without understanding.

“Fine. Paul, is it? Ask your questions,” Glenn snapped unclenching his fist. A nurse entered the room carrying a small cup of water and a medicine cup with pills. She moved past Paul to deliver the medicine to Glenn. He watched as the old man swallowed the pills followed by the water from the other cup. The old man opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue. To allow the nurse examined his mouth to ensure the medicine was consumed.

Glenn scowled as he watched the nurse leave the room, “Well, got about thirty minutes before those pills turn me into a vegetable again best get started.” Paul nodded, sat down, readied his tablet and pen, “Okay, let’s talk about that night.” “No.” Glenn snapped. Paul’s face held growing confusion, “No? but you said…” Glenn interrupted,” if we’re gonna do this we need to start at the beginning of the story. Not at the end of it.” Paul nodded in agreement to the purposed conditions.

Glen began, “My father had the house built on that property back in nineteen seventy-four after my father’s company moved us to be closer to the space center. Previously he was a flight mechanic in the United States Air Force during the Korean War and his skill set helped him find employment quickly with a private contract firm. His job had him testing the parts sent to NASA for various space flight craft.” 

Glenn smiled as the early memories brought him back to the happiness of the time. Paul interrupted, “Your Mother? Nancy, right?” ‘Do you want to tell the story?” Glenn scowled at Paul remark. Paul raised his open palm to Glen, “Sorry, please continue.”

Glenn shook his head in disappointment and cleared his throat, “Mom was happy to move she never liked the people of our previous neighborhood. She was the kind of person who loved to travel and learn new things. She found work as a seamstress and was always at her happiest in front of the sewing machine.”

Paul interrupted again, “Your sister Maybell, told us that Nancy, your mother, had developed a drinking problem. She claimed it all started with your Dad’s long hours at the Space Center.” Glenn threw the empty water cup at Paul, “Don’t you ever say another word about my mother or I’ll!” Glenn stopped himself as an expression of terror filled Paul’s face due to his outburst. “I’m sorry. I just…” Paul pleads with Glenn. Glenn waved off the apology, “Look if you interrupt me one more time this whole thing is over. I’m sure another reporter will try to get this story from me.”

Paul recoiled at the elderly man’s words, “Wait you think I’m a reporter?” “You said you were an investigator,” Glenn looked confused. “We’re paranormal investigators, Glenn. Not newspaper investigators.” Glenn recoiled in his wheelchair, “The hell is that?” “We investigate claims of the supernatural. You know like ghosts, possession, and stuff,” Paul added. “That shits not real. You kids watch too many movies,” Glenn scoffed.

Paul exhaled and examined his notepad again, “Glenn, I need you to understand I am here to help you.” Glenn became angry, “What makes you think I want your help? You ever think maybe I’m happy here?” Paul recoiled at the verbal assault, “Calm down I need your help to help the family that not lives in your old house.” “Fuck them! They should have never moved in! That was our house!” Glen blasted and reached for Paul. Paul was thankful that Glenn was bound to his chair in the form of metal bracelets. 

“Ask your questions or fuck off,” Glenn flopped back into his wheelchair. “Okay, Glenn, I need you to think back to the house on Falcon.” Glenn exhaled loudly and sneered at Paul, “Fine, we lived there for years, but no Ghost or any of that bullshit you’re talking about.” “Good, but I need you to really focus on that last week or so of your time there. Can you do that for me?” Paul begged. “Yeah, I suppose, but you know. All these questions about the house. Why are all of you so interested in it?” Glenn asked.

“How many other people have talked to you about it?” Paul’s brow furrowed as his concern grew. “Several. They all said the same thing that they would help me get out of this place and blah-blah-blah. But no one has helped me yet,” Glenn declared. Paul made notes after the reveal of information from the inmate’s words. “Great let's just focused on the last week or so you were there. That way we’re not just saying the same old thing,” Paul explained. Glenn jutted out his bottom lip and nodded in agreement. 

 “The last week when everything went down were very rough on the family. Mom and dad’s relationship had fallen apart. She was drinking and arguing constantly. Dad was raging and we were getting hit for no reason,” Glenn admitted with building remorse and rage starting to stir. “Just focus on your story for me. Don’t let your emotions drag you away from sharing your tale,” Paul reminded the old inmate. 

“They were set for divorce, but dad always threatened that if he could not have us then no one would,” Glenn studied Paul face for insight into his line of questions, but none was to be found, yet… “So, he openly told you about his plan to kill your family?” Paul quickly wrote on his notepad. “Yeah, but I didn’t think he meant it, you know I thought it was just a threat. No real intention, but I guess I was wrong,” tears streamed from the corner of Glenn’s weathered old blue eyes. “What happened next,” Glenn exhaled, “well I guess everyone knows what happened.”

Paul flipped the page of his notebook stopping on an empty sheet, “Please, Glenn, continue.” Glenn wiped at his tears, “Friday Night. It was a great day I was excited to come home and show my folks my report card. It was not perfect, but it was definitely an improvement over the last one.” Paul took off his glasses and wiped at the corner of his eyes, “So, you came home and what happened next, Glenn? Think real hard about it try and remember what actually happened at that house.” Glenn looked confused by the remark.

Glenn lowered his head as his eye darted back and forth, “That’s when I walked into the house and found her. My mother lay on the floor face down just inside the doorway. The wood floor was sticky with the blood that had left her body. I was in shock and wanted to cry, but that’s when I heard Nancy scream for help.” Glenn’s attention snapped up to Paul anger claimed his body language. Paul pushed away from the table. 

“That son of a bitch had her hiding in her room from him. I saw him in the hallway ax in hand. The door had little left of it and I knew he would kill her too. That’s when I rushed him, “Glenn slammed his fist on the arm of his wheelchair. The whole room seemed to shake. Paul looked around and wrote again on his tablet. “I grabbed the ax handle and we fought for control of it. I looked into my dad’s face and it was not him. I mean it was his body, but his face was twisted and full of rage,” Glenn clenched his hands as if he was holding the ax again. 

Paul began to smell the pungent metallic stench of blood filled his nostrils. The walls quivered as he began to look around the room. “Okay, Glenn, I get it your angry, but I need you to calm down for me. We don’t want anyone else getting hurt.” Glenn glared at Paul, “What the fuck are you talking about. Other than my dad I have not hurt anyone.” Paul stepped away from the table and to the door. 

Glenn’s feeble hands shook as he held them above his head, “Get back here you wanted the story. Let’s finish this! Why won’t you people leave me alone?” Paul looked back at Glenn and was floored. Glenn’s features began to shift and change. Glenn was suddenly much younger was holding a long-handled wood ax in hand. “Okay, Glenn, let’s calm down now,” Paul attempted to get control over the situation. Glenn suddenly stood up from the wheelchair, “My family died that night. Why does everyone keep fucking with me about this.” 

Paul closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “Glenn, your father, and mother did die, but…” “I know that!” Glenn stomped across the floor towards Paul. Paul could feel Glenn’s hot breath as he stood before him. “The family that lives in your old house called us because the house is haunted by a violent ghost!” “Bullshit!” Glenn yelled as he swung the ax high above his head.

“The house is haunted by the ghost of someone who does not know they are dead,” Paul withdrew a mirror from his front pants pocket. “Horseshit! You’re a liar!” Glenn screamed and the room shook violently. Paint chips fell from the walls revealing metallic green under the paint on the prison walls. “Nancy asked me and my people to come here,” Paul pointed the mirror at Glenn. Glenn paused as the ax came down stopping inches from Paul’s head. The reflection in the mirror gave Glenn pause. The smoke-like image of himself froze Glenn mid-swing,” What is this shit?” 

Paul unclenched his eye as he had instinctively recoiled from the ax swing, “Glenn, this is what has been haunting the people that live here. You have been haunting them. You refused to move on into the light.” Glenn lowered the ax as he searched for words to express his confusion, “But...” Paul took Glenn’s hand in his, “You refused to move on. After saving your sisters life the guilt you had from killing your father created a prison of your own making.” 

“But all those reporters? And their questions,” Glenn stared confused at Paul. “Glenn, they were psychic just like me and were trying to lead you into the light and out of your personal hell.” “I don’t remember haunting my house?” Glenn asked. “That’s because you crafted your own world here. You projected your world onto those that came before me and those that lived here.” “Really?” Glenn shook his head.

“But how did I die then? If I am dead like you claim?” Glenn demanded. “When the police arrived, they shot you dead as you stood in the hallway begging your sister to open the nearly destroyed door. They saw your mother and fathers chopped up bodies. They decided to take no chances as you turned to them. You were pronounced dead at the scene.” Glenn's face went blank, “but I just wanted to save my sister.” 

“You have been pounding on that door and throwing things around inside the house for over fourteen years, Glenn. I think it’s time for you to rest,” Paul opened the door to the room. A brilliant light flooded into the room Glenn raised his arm defensively against the brilliance of the illumination. “Paul, just one last thing,” Glenn looked at his rescuer. “What’s that Glenn?” Paul questioned.

In the center of the living room, Paul Andersen sat in his trance-like state surrounded by his fellow investigator. The entire team waited patiently for Paul to come back to them from his entry into the spiritual world. He had always done this to confront the spirits they investigated. However; the local paper only stated “Bodies discovered in an old home on Falcon. Police search for a copycat killer.”