Posts Tagged ‘urban fantasy’


March 29, 2018 Leave a comment

I was sitting at a table, enjoying the slight chill in the air as I held my cup beneath my nose. The steam warmed the tip and the aroma of vanilla and honey made my mouth water. For the first morning of my retirement, I thought things were going well.

The first of them walked across the street and stopped a few cars down. She was beautiful in a way that I couldn’t have described the day before. All long, lean limbs and cute, captivating curves. I might not enjoy being alone, but it did make it easier to stare. Although as I looked at her clothing, an almost see through green sack of a dress with a pair of heavy, brown work boots and one spotted sock, I realized that everyone was staring at the woman.

When he friend appeared beside her, the woman at the next table gasped. I never asked if the gasp was due to him just appearing, and I was surprised that I hadn’t noticed him walking up, or if it was because the loose running shorts he was wearing left a portion of his anatomy hanging out down the leg. Honestly, I didn’t need to know. The man was so well built and gifted that I would have considered switching teams if he had asked.

I was lost in thought as a pair of children ran down the sidewalk. The little girl who was running from her brother came to a sudden stop when she saw the adonis standing in front of her. Her brother was distracted by the woman and did not stop. He plowed into his sister, knocking them both to the pavement in a tangle of skinned knees and bloody elbows.

As children often do, they began to scream and cry in response to their injuries. The whole of the little cafe’s patronage pulled their eyes from the visions of beauty to look upon the injured. The pair stepped toward the children, who ignored the beauties to focus upon their pains.

It might come as some surprise, but this is when things got weird.

The woman, her gown falling off of her to reveal far more than has ever been accepted as modest, knelt beside the girl and grabbed her face. She kissed the child full on the mouth before wetting her fingers in her mouth and then shoving one in each of the child’s ears. While giving the girl a double wet willy, the woman bent further forward and licked the blood from each of the child’s knees with a tongue that would have made an anteater proud.

The man, lowered his pants a bit around his bottom before squatting over the pursuing brother and lifting a single finger into the air. As he did, the sound of the gas he passed seemed to echo off the building behind me. I was aware of a car alarm going off, though at that moment I could not remember if it had been honking it’s warning before the fellow farted or not.

Both children were silent. The diners were silent. The passing pedestrians were silent. Even the cars were stopped at a red light. The only sound was that stupid car alarm.

The pair stood straight, and the sun reflecting off the windows illuminated them. For a moment, they were haloed in soft gold, then they each started walking in opposite directions. The children’s mother ran up to check on them and I looked back at the woman at the next table.

We made eye contact and I began to worry about her. She was pale, her lips a light blue, and I wondered if she would be able to keep her seat. Her eyes were wide and wild as she gulped like an old cartoon character. “The kids,” she whispered. “They were hurt from falling.”

I looked at them, and saw what the woman meant. No scrapes and no cuts. The boy looked nauseous and the little girl was wiggling her finger in her ear as if trying to dry it after swimming, but neither was bleeding anymore.

“It’s a miracle,” the woman said. Her words drew my attention back and I saw that she was clutching the cross hanging from her neck. “That was a miracle. They must have been angels.”

“Strange angels,’ I said, slurring the words together into a single unrecognizable one as I tried to make my brain and mouth work together after the spectacle. I licked my lips and cleared my throat before trying again. “Strange angels indeed.”


Say What? Part #5

June 28, 2017 Leave a comment

Tom looked from the seat to the dog a few times before turning around. It creeped him out when animals did that. Like the cat he used to have that would hiss at empty rooms before running out. He had hated that cat, but when it died, he moved out of the house because he didn’t feel safe in it when he was alone. Tom always figured that the cat knew something that he didn’t. Better safe than sorry.

Harry didn’t let up. Tom wanted to reach over and sooth him, but considering his current project. Considering that the old legends discussed a supernatural monster that he might be chasing, Tom just couldn’t put his arm up.

The dog might be onto something.

“Alright,” he said. “Calm down. We are out of here.”

He was so rattled that when he started to pull out, Tom forgot to check his blind spot. The honking of the horn made him jump as he slammed the brake. The sudden jerking of the vehicle nearly spilled the big dog into the floorboard, but all of the disasters were avoided. Other than getting cussed and flipped off, both Tom and Harry were fine as they pulled onto the street.

When he looked back into his rear view mirror, Tom thought he saw someone standing in the empty parking spot. He snapped around to look, but he couldn’t see anything.

“What the hell?” He asked Harry.

A chuffing bark seemed like about as logical an answer as he had come up with.

Categories: serial Tags: ,


April 6, 2016 Leave a comment

The making of a magical item is always a process. While some like to say that magic is a subtle science, I know that it is truly nothing but an art. We bring together the unrelated and in doing so, make something new that can change the world. It is an art and I am proud to be one of the sculptors.

The guy on my table is some sort of celebrity. I think he might be the new weather man, but I really don’t know. For my purposes, all I needed was to hear him bragging in the bar about how those are his real teeth. The girl was impressed. She went to the bathroom to remove her panties and then drag him outside. He was in for a wild evening.

Now he is screaming despite the gag forcing his mouth open. If he doesn’t stop soon, I will have to cut out his tongue so that I can concentrate on my work.

It will all be worth it though. Nobody has made a cup out of human ivory in years. The enchantments will take months, but when I’m done I’ll have half of what I need for potions of youth.

Unfortunately for the weather man, he has to be awake when I extract the ivory. Poor sod.


March 16, 2016 Leave a comment

The sign above the booth was simple. Black letters on a white background. The masks and costumes looked the same as the ones being sold on either side. They all cost about twenty dollars each and they were all dedicated to the heroes and villains Marlene had grown up with.

“Be Who You Feel Like You Should Be,” she said as she looked at the table. “I like that.”

“I’m glad you do. May I help you?”

She looked up into a scruffy beard that covered a wrinkled brown face in thick patches. The booth vendor had different colored eyes and he wore a beanie with pretty convincing horns poking out of it. “I don’t know. I’ll know what I want when I see it. Don’t you think it should have been ‘Be Who You Want To Be’?”

“Naw. Lots of people dress up as what they want to be. I’m here to help you be who you should be.”

Marlene lifted on eyebrow but didn’t say any more.


She lifted the tiny brown leather outfit up and licked her lips. It was ragged with some kind of fake fur all over it. It was more than a bikini, but not by much and she wished she could have worn it.

“That one calls to you doesn’t it? It was made for you”

“Yeah,” she said, the sound of longing dripping off the word as she spoke. “I remember this from the first movie. I loved her character.”

“I have the matching boots. Why don’t you try it all on?”

“There’s no way that is going to fit me,” Marlene said. She looked down, frowning at her belly. “I don’t have the body for it.”

“There is a dressing room right here,” the vendor said, pointing over his shoulder to a little box with a curtail hanging around it. “Just try it on and see what I mean about it being made for you.”

Marlene bit her lip, but she couldn’t help herself as she headed behind the curtain.


The sword vendor yelled at Marlene as she grabbed the weapon off the rack, but he only missed having his head cut of because he fell down while backing away from her.

Marlene, conquerer of the barren wastes; warrior princes of the frozen horde, howled in rage. People looked at her and laughed before screaming and running to keep out of arms reach. She was no longer a cook who the owner kept in the back because he didn’t think she was pretty enough to be a server. She was no longer afraid to talk to boys. She would never again let them laugh at her. She was dressed for battle. She was a barbarian. She would chase them down and remove their laughing tongues.

The little old man watched her charge through the crowd. He scratched at the base of his horn, frowning at the itch from the stupid beanie, and wondered how long it would be before this one got shot. Then he knelt down, collected the yellowish coin that was lying beside her old cloths and popped it into his mouth. “Paid in full,” he said as he turned to begin packing up.


February 17, 2016 Leave a comment

Josh dropped to the ground and rolled to his right. He felt the whoosh of air above him a second before the heat of the blast. He could smell his hair singing before he was behind the air conditioning unit.

“You can’t hide back there all night warden.”

“I can try,” Josh yelled. Another wave of fire rolled around him and his impromptu wind break. He felt heat against his back and wondered if the cinder fairy could melt the metal.

He heard a high pitched, cackling laugh before a third wave of fire rolled along the roof around him. “He’s right,” Josh mumbled as he looked around him. “That thing is probably going to start circling me.”

The fourth wave licked against his left boot.

“Damn it,” Josh said as he shifted away to the right. His tattoos were itching. The magic in his skin was anxious, waiting to be released against the fairy. He would have been happy to oblige the sentient ink but he was too far away.

Another high pitched laugh was followed by a deep throated impression of a southern accent. “I smell me some barbecue.” The creature laughed again, and fire hit Josh’s hiding spot from even further around.

The  surface of the roof was hot where it had gotten blasted a few moments before. The heat coming off the metal housing was enough to force Josh to move away from his cover a bit.

“I am so screwed,” he said, looking at the small fires that surrounded him.

When the next blast stopped, Josh darted towards edge. He heard the fire coming for him and realized that he wasn’t going to make it.



February 10, 2016 2 comments

Charlie leaned his head against the wall, bouncing it against the bricks, trying to jump start his brain. He felt his nose twitch, a tingling on the tip that told him his head was about to explode.


The sneeze came out with such force that it made his ribs hurt. He bent at the waist, putting one hand back to keep his balance and hoped that it wouldn’t happen again. Bits of stone rained down on his shoulders and he wondered why as he looked back at the wall.

There was a hole in the wall where his head had been before the sneeze.

Charlie darted across the alley, spinning and putting his back against the other wall. He would have admitted that he would reconsider how much he hated sneezing the next time it happened. He had never imagined that it might save his life. Those thoughts were for later though. Now he had to get away.

The alley was clean. There weren’t any doors or dumpsters to hide behind. When he looked forward, he looked up. A man with a rifle walked across the roof and took aim. He knew he needed to run, but he couldn’t. Charlie froze and watched the sniper take aim.


“So you didn’t realize I was here with you?”

Bill lowered the rifle and looked behind him. A tall, slim man with a black bikers jacket stood ten feet away, hands empty and hanging at his side.

“Go away and let me finish this job, or I’ll put a bullet in you and hunt the snitch down again later.”

“You won’t be killing anyone else.”

Bill turned all the way around, lowering the gun as he did so. The slim man smiled at him, but didn’t move. “Why won’t I?”

“Because you are destined for prison.”

“There isn’t anyone else up here. I don’t see any other snipers around. How are you going to take me to prison?”

The slim man lifted his hands out to either side. Both empty. Both harmless. “I didn’t say I was going to take you to prison. I said you are destined for prison.”

Bill smiled out of one side of his mouth. “What’s the difference?”

“The prison has come to you.”

The slim man took a step and Billy lifted the gun to his shoulder.


Charlie watched the sniper turn his back on him. His mind screamed at him to run, but he couldn’t move.

The man stood there for a minute, jerked the gun back up to his shoulder, and then he disappeared. Charlie heard something, like a big bird screeching on a nature show, before a flash of light made him think a bomb had just went off on the roof. He waited, staring, but nobody came back into view. There was no sounds other than the people starting their days and driving to work. Charlie thought he could smell something sweet, but he wasn’t sure. 

He stood, until the rain started, and then he headed to his car.

“Maybe I should just get out of town for a while.”


January 20, 2016 2 comments

“I couldn’t believe they spoke to me that way. How dare they. Where the fuck do they get off calling me a poser? What do any of them have to show for all their efforts?”

Jack kicked at a paper cup lying in his path. Between it being wet from the rain and the sounds of the storm, he didn’t get to hear the whack of his shoe as it sent the little cup out into the street.

“How in the hell do you get off telling someone they’re a noob when you haven’t got anything to show for years of practice?”

He stomped towards the train station, reliving his rejection with every step. The Ordo had declined his application. Marcus, a wide and bearded magician with a large reputation, had lost his temper when Jack had questioned his decision. “You lack any sort of results in your practice and you don’t show the discipline needed for our work.”

After a few more choice words, the group and expelled Jack.

“I need to find a way to show them how wrong they are,” Jack said the words, needing to hear himself as he declared his intentions. “I need to teach them the error of their ways.”

this time, he kicked an old metal garbage can. Even with the rain, he heard the hollow clang of his boot and then a few more as the can bounced down the sidewalk before smacking into an old car’s bumper.

When he got to it, the can’s lid was rocking back and forth. Jack kicked it again and smiled as it spun away like a child’s top. He drew back to aim at the can again, but stopped when he saw the yellow and black thing in the can.

It was a composition book, like the ones that he used for his journals, but yellow instead of red or white. The cover was creased and the book was swollen from use. On the cover, the previous owner had drawn an odd little star with extra lines popping off it.

Jack touched his arm, his mouth hanging open before darting forward to snatch up the book. He tucked it under his arm, protecting it from the rain with his coat and ignoring the chance that he was smearing something from the can on his favorite shirt. He hurried home, eager to examine his find.

He was lucky. His car was almost empty. So he took out the book, and pulled up his sleeve.

The symbols were the same. The sigil he had tattooed on his arm two years ago, the one he had invented to be his magical name, was drawn on the little notepad’s cover with a sharpie.

“What the hell.”