 
Spoken Word

-Mikell Gentry
Part 1: Spoken Word

Logan- Yo Meric, what just happened..?

Meric- Dude... A fucking angel just came up to me and gave me all his

money..

Logan- ...? WHAT?!?

Meric- He was completely haggard and all cut up and stuff, but he had

wings and, and... well he looked exactly like our neighbor across the

street... crazy... He even went into his house. Maybe I should give it back

to him.

Logan- ... Wait, how much is there?

Meric- Uhh... about four grand. Logan- Look, Ford has always been nice to us. He might just be delusional and gave us the money thinking we were the bank or something... You know that guy has issues...

Meric- He said his gratitude was given... I don't think it makes sense. I mean... what the Hell did we ever do for him?!? Logan- Let's just give it back.

Meric- ... Okay.

I hear the footsteps as they walk. They are speaking. They want the... police..?
I.

Break it. Breaking news: A class of first class peoples supporting glass and sand sculptures. South sound, it scatters and forms. We're all amazed, but really, there is nothing to look at. Take a second. Forget about that person you call yourself. Look in the glass and argue around a bit. When tired, quit. Everyone is going back. You'd be crazy if you didn't.

They tell us not to go mad, but really, insanity don't look so bad. Just another distraction from being sad. So hey! As soon as we finally learn how to breathe underwater, we will be able to defend ourselves. Proof, or it never happened. So claim your place in line. Be sure to have your proof on paper. After all, it is a lot harder to right wrongs as opposed to writing wrongs.

You walk, I walk. Waiting patiently each step like the ash of a cigarette waits anxiously for the air. It lays in an ash tray, forgets about existence as if time has stopped just for this one piece of matter.

Time. This one entity is the true enemy of all existence. Time will destroy us all. But I don't have a solution for that just yet. And unfortunately, that's not why I'm here. The ash, it speaks to me. Then, upon realizing that this ash, this matter, really doesn't matter at all, I move up. You take your place, I take mine. Every inch counts now that the ones have appeared behind you. Time seems to pass faster than the moving cars on the outside.

Afraid of distraction, I cannot move. All it takes is less than a blink. My chance could pass me by and I would never have noticed. One slip-up can rip the very fabric that is my time and destroy everything I have worked myself to achieve... Or perhaps I will just lose my place in line. Of course there is the exceptions, the little voice in my head that says it's okay for you to be sidetracked once in a while. I never listen to that voice, that sound's never gotten me anywhere, always put me behind. Turn around and run away when the goal is right in front of you. So what if an obstacle stands in your way. It is easier and much faster to walk around it, or even better yet, face it, as opposed to running away. Go ahead, hop the fence. It says 'Private Property' on it but it will save you time and effort to cut through. And hell, you may even learn a thing or two.

The figure ahead of myself strums the hours and takes advantage of time spent. He stimms with the tap of a foot. I focus on breathing. The parchment is held onto with a grasp tighter than the gods grip keeping this world from falling apart. My whole life, everything I have worked for, everything that I'm a part of, and all the go-in-betweens, reside on the lines within this parchment. My future, your future, THE FUTURE, is all written down. All I must do... wait. Just wait in line. Wait, while in some foreign dimension filled with other life forms; wait for us as the human race to evolve. The limitations will cease to exist. People will look back at the word 'impossible' and laugh hysterically at the fact that it took us this long to get where we are. Laughing on the day that today's considered prehistoric. Laughing at the past, in the future... somewhat like we do now. Pathetic.

Statues form behind us. Thoughts of anger and confusion, settle inside this space. We can't cross paths... we won't. The statue ahead of me has re-animated. He moves a step and keeps his patience, as do I. it's only a matter of time now. Once he is gone, the turn will point towards I. No need to make them feel higher than me to gain recognition. My work is my progress, which will soon, very, very soon, become my change. I deserve my change. My age, sweat, and blood, should be enough proof. Even the sun might as well just bow down to I for such an accomplishment.

To think in straight lines for this should be acceptable. I will allow it. My eyes keep my guilt and lies hidden from all outsiders. Everything is in its right place.
The man ahead of me turns around with an upside down smile. Sobbing, he leaves, leaving his position open to the highest bidder.

Failure is not an option. The spot, open in front of me, begging I to take its place. Two steps, a lift of my left hand, and a smile were all given to the operator. She takes the parchment from my hand, my grip eased as she slowly accepts my offering. A quick glance, then she speaks.

"What are we here for today?"

We pause for a moment. I stare at the operator, questioning whether or not to shout back. Calming myself with a grip on my thoughts, I respond.

"I have gathered here all the information to form an advancement in our society as a whole. The letter presented includes a proposition regarding all the things I require and the necessary funding required to get things started."

"We'll give you a call, NEXT!" She says, giving up my position in the

line.

I was speechless. She is going to look it over! ... maybe not. Not

her

at least. Someone else will probably look over it and hand it up to the next official and so on. But, she accepted it.

Suddenly, my heart stops. I watch myself casually walk outside, while here I am, standing beside the operator.

"No... NO!! NOT AGAIN!!!"I shout out loud.

My body voices the words, but continues to walk. I start to think about begging myself to come back, but my body would be saying the words while leaving me action-less. I cannot let my body escape!

I dash, right through the line of people, the crowd un-willingly moving aside by my will. What will I do if I cannot catch myself?!? People are falling left and right, at my disposal as I make it outside. Everyone looks as though they have seen a ghost... or at least got shoved aside by one. Once I'm out, I don't waste time. All directions are checked, there is a large amount of people walking around. I won't be able to spot myself easily. Looking behind me, the line has formed again, this time with heavy commotion. They can't see me, after all, my body already left.

Another quick background check reveals myself walking around the corner of a nearby building. I haven't lost myself yet, and I'm not going to lose myself now. I have to move... Quickly!

I start rushing down the street, pushing any mindless zombie down that gets in my way. All while keeping my eye concentrated on myself while running. Taking a side glance, my body spots me. Not noticing a curb in front of me, I trip.

My body has resorted from walking, now to a complete sprint. I pull myself up from the ground.

"That voodoo bastard has done it now!!" I mutter to myself.

I start running toward an alleyway to cut myself off. After all, if I were me, I would have probably taken this shortcut to get away. Adrenaline has kicked in, giving me a full burst of energy.

I make it to the end of the alleyway. My eye peeks around the brick structure to witness my body walking in my direction. My body seems exhausted and is not paying full attention of what's in front, concentrating behind him. A few seconds pass as I watch myself pass along side me. With speed, anger, and adrenaline on my side, I stretch my arms and grasp myself, pulling with all my strength.

My body falls, and without further delay, I let myself have it. Whaling on my body with strict discipline, I force myself to give up and let me be myself again. As I pull myself back together, my pulse starts to regain itself. My heart beats a steady pace, as it should.

Looking around, I realize what a scene I have caused, although this wasn't the first time, I had hoped that it would be the last. As if the world
that I have to deal with everyday isn't enough of a problem for me.

The sand is falling at a moderate pace now. Rest is best under a roof while I wait for the future to take effect, or at least give me a phone call. Striding to my shanty cause I not fit to drive, looking from the side to side, home is just a morning stretch away. Sound catches my eye as I witness one of my neighbors singin blues with a six-string. His room-mate joins him on occasion to play a single drum with two drum sticks. Together, they sound magnificent. The boys voice fits perfectly with the acoustic sound of his guitar. And his friend, makes more usage of one drum than most with a full drum set, hitting the edges while maintaining rhythm. My gratitude is given, but the sounds from my mouth dissolve as they're spoken. Nice thing words are free.

Not a matter anyways. My homework has been turned in. I should hear a ring any moment now...

... Nothing...

Okay, so I arrived at the pad to let gravity do a number on me. Flat sound will ensure a good sleep with an easy open to a subconscious world. My painted eyelids now find themselves sewn shut. Sleep should come quite naturally now.

I find myself in a room with a secretary woman sitting at a desk. She's just sitting there minding her own, not even recognizing that I'm there. This upsets me.

"mmm.. Are ya gonna let me in? Yes?..?" I say.

This gets her attention. She nods, then pulls a ring of keys from her desk. She then holds them in front of me, I assume that she's expecting me to take them from her. This also upsets me. She doesn't seem to be doing her job. And what is her job... really..

Well when I sleep, I enter my lucid state of mind. This includes the room that I'm in, with this woman, and a few doors. Now normally, this woman with whom I have not given a name to, is supposed to lead me to a door that I can dream in. This is always random to me. I never usually ask questions, after all, this is the way it works for me, the way it always has ever since I can remember. I can't argue the system. This is one of the nicest way to pass the time when I feel tired, and the time goes by quick.

The key ring that she gives me has a few keys on it. I'm not sure which one I have to use, but seeing that she has never done this to me before, I will take advantage of this and pick the door to my liking instead of what she would pick. I choose not to ask her which key and/or door it is today. I walk away from the desk and towards the doors. There are four doors to choose from. I will pick the second one from the right.

When I approach, the door gives off a big smile. This too is also new to me. I decide to choose the door next to it instead.

I pull the few keys from the ring and toss it aside. When readying the first key, the doorknob breaks it, swallowing it whole as if it were to be devouring it from starvation. Afterwards, I turn the knob. It doesn't budge.

"Hmm.. Wrong key maybe..?" I speak out loud, trying not to get the secretary's attention. I decide to try the next key. It breaks and is eaten just as the one before it. I slowly turn my head to notice that the secretary is still minding her own. For all I know, she just works here... in my head...

making sure that I reach a positive grim state... but she is slacking today. Upon finding the right key, the doorknob lets go of itself. The door

opens at ease now. When I''m inside, I am greeted by a man. He looks suspicious. When he speaks, his tone of voice is almost sickening.

"Give me your name!" He says.

I plead the fifth. He agrees and walks away. Fucking cunt.. Who does he
think he is coming to my door, telling me things I already know? The scoundrel doesn't even deserve to have a name, yet, he asks me mine.

Suddenly, the room I am in fills with water. Not a big deal seeing as though I can breathe underwater. Now the roof starts lowering itself slowly. The water stops filling up about knee high. The man turns around with a smile on his face.

"Oh I betcha wanna tell me your name now!!! HAHAHA!!!" He screams at me. The mans evil laughter was quite unsettling.

The ceiling is pretty much touching my head now as I am crouching in the water. Without much concern, my body lowers itself into the mass of liquid. Exhaling all of my lungs, my head is consumed in the water. With small breathes, my lungs start to fill. My confidence in this matter of a subject, keeps my stress to a minimum. After all, once the ceiling touches the water, it should compress, and stop moving. This should give me some time to think about how to get out of this mess.

Next thing I know, a man, different from the one before, comes up beside me. He starts to hold up the ceiling with just his own arms.

"Now's your chance!! Hurry!!" He tells me.

Stupid prick... I had everything under control, than this fuck had to show up from out of nowhere to fuck it up. The man opened up his mouth to speak again, but instead of words, a loud ringing noise comes out. This happens twice before my eyes shoot open.

I awake now, all thanks to the noise of my phone ringing. My actions are not quick enough. The answering machine gets it. A mans voice speaks.

"Hello Mr. ... uh Mr. Loat ... uh, I am Dr. Edward Graff and I'm calling

about questions concerning your application. We're down here at the office, would very much like to see you for an interview as soon as you're convenient to do so. Our office is located at 1411 East Sherman Avenue. You may show up anytime Monday through Friday. Thank you very much for your time."

The call that I've been waiting for, the call that gives me a mission that is now my number one priority, it has arrived. Even though he pronounced my name wrong. My name is Ford Lott, like "lot"... but I doesn't matter.

My skin starts to melt. I slowly start to float. Falling upward, I collapse on the ceiling. My eyes roll to the back of my head. There is a middle aged man sitting in a desk inside my brain. He wears a blue-striped business suit and types away on a desktop computer. His head turns to make eye contact with my eyes. Frozen for a split second, he speaks.

"Can I help you..?"

Snapping back to reality, my eyes quickly return to place. I fall, from the very top, to the bottom with no sympathy. Quite a drop too. The sudden stop at the bottom hurt. My hands and chest took all the impact. While on the ground thinking about pain, the sudden thought about Dr. Graff''s phone call came to mind. This gave me full rights to my adrenaline stash, and helped my body pick itself up. Together, as one, we head towards the door.
II.

The morning dew greets I with a dutied hello. It is amazing how fast time went by in the short subconscious visit. Early it is, and a long walk out towards downtown stands tall in front of me. Bastard birds never shut the hell up. Once my theory comes into effect, we won't have a need for such things. Think about it, most of the world is covered in water. Millions of miles of unused land. There will be no need to spend time to eat, drink, or sleep.

Oh the possibilities!! We originated from it, and now we're going back! Life will once again be shared, not separated from itself. There will be no need for tears, sobbing, or even sadness for that matter. We will have no need for sickness and disease, no need for thought, progress, and change. A time for evolution has come friends!!

But before that, a shallow sidewalk. That, and a couple thousand steps between me and point B.

Neighbors guitar sleeps alone right now, while the owner rests inside. They need not be paid attention. sound waves creep through my minds cobwebs to hold onto a bittersweet melody. Not one man needs to own this melody but I. It will keep me and myself company for this short journey.

Time seems to lose itself when hanging around me, and before you know it, I was entering downtown territory. It's still rather deserted right now, as it's still quite early. As of right now, I'm only a few blocks away from the target.

*STOMP*!!

The fuck was that?!?

I turn left to face the noise and see before me ,standing quite tall, a giant.. This fuckers head is bigger than that of my front door. He stands in front of I wearing a black suit of some sort. With a big grin on his face, he speaks.

"Your not going anywhere!"

This gives me a chuckle.

"Actually, I am going somewhere, and you happen to be in my way kind sir. You will move, NOW!!" I scream back with a smile.

The giants grin still intact, he starts to stomp towards me. The stupid

fuck... hasn't he read 'David and Goliath'? I love a good challenge!! I

charge

towards him.

The giant lifts his monstrous right arm, clenching his fist, and swings down at me.

Leaping backwards to dodge his attack, I counter by throwing a kick at him. This doesn't cause anything, but a shrewd sound of impact. I think that I hurt myself more than anything... This catches me off guard. I didn't even leave so much as a mark on him... The Giant laughs at me, making me feel somewhat embarrassed.. Then he speaks with a deep tone.

"Oh my brother, you lack the skill necessary to defeat me! You must show me your true power!!"

I give off a confused look, after all, all I have with me is my dagger that I found awhile back, my so-called 'Cuttooth'. This of which, really has no power... I think.

The giant , all while still laughing, now has his left hand in front of me, his thumb holding down his middle finger. Then, in less than a blink, his middle finger snaps at I, giving me quite a bit of air time. While in mid-air, flying sideways, the pain hasn't quite kicked in yet, but my leg catches a signpost, causing me to spin radically out of control. Twisting and turning, all I can see is a blur of what is supposed to my surroundings. I catch the pavement, roughly rolling around blindly before finally halting to a complete stop.
Pain starts to slowly take effect. The sunspots in my eyes all start to separate, giving me my sight back. The bastard flicked me, and it hurt, but although this may have slowed me down, my confidence remains un-damaged to say the least. Pulling myself up, I sporadically decide to taunt.

"Heh... Hey!! That was fun!! How about you try that one again?" I say while holding back my pain.

The giant's grin expands itself.

"Oh, but with pleasure my brother!" The giant says while starting to stomp in my direction.

This gives me time to ready myself. Should he actually do the same thing, I will reply with full force. No more improv, time to die!!

The giant throws his hand down again, readying a flick. This time, I dodge swiftly, and leap onto the hand. The giant didn't have time to react, nor do I think he even has the slightest clue what's up my sleeve! Running as fast as my body will let me, I run up his arm, past his shoulder, and grasp onto the hair of his head. I can sense the panic in him, as he throws his arms in confusion trying to grab a hold of me.

Being a giant, gives him a disadvantage when fighting me. He is big, therefore, he moves slow. Now I am small, only really when compared to him and say buildings and such... my point, I can move a lot faster than him.

I make my way underneath his eye. I pop up in his sights. I give off a smirk and nod negatively right before I thrust my right hand into his eye.

His eyelid closes and he roars in pain. My arm is trapped inside the grasp of his eyelid.

The giant is now furious with pain and anger, throwing his arms every which way and direction. His eyelid is practically crushing my arm. My free hand is searching for my cuttooth so I can free myself of this grip. When it's in reach, I don't waste time.

I start gouging out his eye, cutting around my arm and pulling, trying to get away. The eyelids grip starts to loosen up. This allows me to get my arm out. The giants blood is spraying all over myself. My hand pulls free and I start to fall.

We both fall backwards, opposite from each other. I bounce off the pavement, landing on my back and hitting my head. The big fucker hits the ground shortly after causing a small tremor. Covered in the giants blood and in intense pain, I sit up. His eyelid broke my arm. Other than that, I feel great!! I just defeated a fucking giant!! Where's the fucking news reporter that should be taking my picture and writing an article about how, I single handedly defeated 'The Giant Who Tried To Prevent The Future From Happening!' . Where's my fame, glory?!? I was born for your magazines!! Anything..?

Oh...

Somewhere in the middle of my joyous celebration, the giant has stood back up.. I thought I killed it. Guess I celebrated too soon... He looks pissed..

"YOU GOT BLOOD ALL OVA MEH SUIT!!" He screams in anger. This upsets me.

I give off an angry shrug.

"Over your suit? OVER YOUR FUCKING SUIT!?!?!? I was on my way to a fucking interview for a breakthrough in science. A fucking giant decides to stand in my way and tell me otherwise. Now your complaining about getting blood all over your suit? What about me?!? You got blood all over my suit, and it has ripped up and torn and only God knows what that is on my pants... I

have a fucking interview to attend to. FUCK YOU!!" I scream. My anxiety is through the roof now. I stand up.

Looking at the giant, he is shaking. It doesn't look like its out of
fear. He speaks.

"Oh brother, if only you wouldn't talk about God like that..." Anxious and confused, I reply.

"And what's with all this 'Brother' bullshit?!? Last I checked, my mother is my only relative, God rest her soul... speaking of God, oh... does it

bother you if I'm a little blasphemous at times?!? Who needs this 'God' figure, when 'I' have the knowledge to actually do something good for the people that this suppose' 'God' could have done but hasn't still to this day. For all we know, this 'God' just sits on his ass all day watching us people kill each other while eating popcorn on the shitter. You may defend him, but you kno-"

"ENOUGH!!!!!" The giant screams.

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK OF HIS HOLYNESS IN THIS MANNER!! YOU WILL FEEL THE WRATH OF GOD AS I SHOW YOU MY TRUE POWER!!!

While being interrupted, the giant states to have some power, other than being a fucking giant that is. I ready my cuttooth.

The giant, now covered in his own blood and still shaking, looks up and tilts his head. Suddenly, his figure starts to change. He starts to crumble apart, each piece, a person.

I find myself surrounded my a large group of people, about twenty to be precise. All of them, perfectly identical to the giant, right down to the punctured eye. Feeling completely outnumbered, one walks towards I. In my face, he whispers.

"You shouldn't have done that."

I start up a laugh.

"You, you should have stayed on the ground, playin dead pal!!" I tell him. A large amount of bacteria and blood and ...... and well something else, decays away in my mouth. I spit it in his face.

It's easy to spray disgrace in the face of death, when you hang out with him in most of your dreams... with death I mean.

He hits me, a hard right hook on my jaw. The hard hit causes me to fly out of myself, watching my body fall to the ground. I sit a moment, trying to realize what just happened. I manage to make eye contact with my body before the crowd starts to let me have it. My body gives off a sad expression to me before the butcher begins.

FUCK!! There is no way my body can take all of them without me!! A quick look to the ground in front of me shows my cuttooth. It was knocked out of my hand! Without thinking, my reaction causes me to grasp it. I stand tall. I can't feel the pain as long as I am separated from myself. They can't see me. I charge!

I thrust my blade into the first one I make contact with, practically lifting him off the ground.

They can't see me.

The mini giants all scatter round, watching as I rip out my cuttooth from the first victim.

They can't see me.

All they see is my cuttooth, covered in blood, in mid-air, as if floating on its own.

*SLASH!!*

*STAB!!*

*CUT!!*

Cutting them down, one by one, like harvesting a wheat field. They can''t see me. It looks as though they don't even know what's happening.

Two left.

I grab one, raise my blade up high, and pierce through the middle of his chest, shoving him as I walk towards the other. The once over-confident giant, is now shaking, cowering down in fear.
"Your... your true power. I ... I admit defeat. I give you my word. Now... as

an enemy of Our Maker... I am at your service." His voice shudders in his surrender.

I look behind me. My body lays, bloodied and unconscious. I turn, facing this man, who once considered to be an obstacle to I.

"My name is Ford Lott, and I am the next step in human evolution." I say. My body mumbles the words, all while spiting blood. I grab the puny giant, turning him around, and with force, I thrust my cuttooth into his neck. Cutting, ripping, tearing, and pulling at his head, it separates from his body.

I have doubts that he's gonna get back up from this. I turn to witness all the hell we caused. The area looks and feels like the aftermath of a small massacre. I walk over to myself and kneel down. My body opens up its eyes to look back at me in relief.

I pull myself back together, only to feel all the pain my body just endured. It covers up the pain from before. I don't even really feel satisfaction for killing the giant.

I lay there for a moment to let everything settle in. I am in downtown. I am familiar with the area. There is a park nearby. Now all I have to do is summon the courage to get up and drag myself there to get cleaned up.

Sitting up gave me some new pain. I was afraid to move my legs for fear of some other pain I may have endured during the butcher. My arm still reeks of pain from breaking. Fuck it. I stand.

Stretching out as far as my body would let it, I decide to start walking, or limping if you prefer. The park is in front of me now. At first sight, my eye catches a public drinking fountain. Rushing to use it, I push the button. A small stream of water escapes. I wash my hands and face the best I could, getting most of the blood out. The blood isn't going to come off my clothes. I need to find an alternative suit for the interview.

To my right, my eye catches a moving figure. Turning my head, I notice a wealthy man wearing a tan suit entering the park restroom, not even giving a passing glance, rude prick.. I limp my way towards the restroom shortly after. Once inside, I witness him, washing his hands in the sink. After seeing this, anger stormed through me. Oh, you can outsmart a mutated giant in a fight, but you can't think to use the park restroom the wash up.. I feel like a dumbass.. The wealthy man starts to shake his hands, ridding the water from them. He turns to grab a towel, then he notices me. Standing there, covered in the blood of a giant., I walk towards him.

"You, my friend, you make me feel like a dumbass. Now tell me, do I look like a dumbass to you?!?" I ask.

"Uh... why, no..? No you do not." He states.

"Oh, well that's good, because I'm not a dumbass. I am a genius, who is about to make a breakthrough in modern science. But I can't really do that while wearing a suit covered in the blood of some maggot, big foot, monster, now can I?" I say.

The man nods in agreement. While I slowly pull out my cuttooth. I let him walk past me as I grab onto his shoulder and pull. Tripping him, in an instant, I pierce my knife into his forehead, slowly pulling him down towards the ground, making sure not to get any blood on his suit. I open up a bathroom stall, to my right, and drag him inside. Turning him over, I dip his head in the toilet, removing my cuttooth in the process. His blood is draining out. Next, I carefully remove the mans clothing.

I feel awkward and paranoid to the point of looking over my shoulder every couple of seconds. After all, I wouldn't normally kill a man just for the sake of taking his suit. Business, that's all. Just fucking business.

When removed of all of his clothing, I decide to move to the next stall to change. I shut, and lock, the door hiding the wealthy dead guy. I may not
be the smartest when it comes to getting away with stuff, but I can get the job done without having the guilt.

After changing into my new suit, I lift up the top of the toilet, where all the works are, fold my bloody rags, and place them inside. Afterwards, I walk over to the mirror to see if everything is in order.

To my surprise, I look like a new man!! The giant hasn't even harmed me!! Well, except for the broken arm, and all the cuts and bruises and such...

and I think I feel a little light headed.. But really, I'm invincible!! Nothing can get in my way now! I will just turn my gimp legged limp into a full steady walk, and I'll look sharp! Dr. Graff should be quite pleased.

Now, just to get to where he is.
III.

Well, my mum said that she's not actually my mother. She said that my parents were really fucked up. Said they left me on the side of a rock when I was just a little shy. She found me, gave me a name suitable for kids and such. At first, she didn't want to take care of I. And well, that's perfectly understandable. I wasn't her child, her 'blood'. Mum used the excuse that she would never marry or have children. She dropped me off at an old orphanage where I got wind of some of the basics of being the little human treat that I was. Ya know, the basics. Walkin 'round, making some gibberish sounds that I would defend to my grave, stealing kids shit, swearing to God it was my own. Ya know, the basics.

You see though, this orphanage deal was very original to me in the fact that they forced this ''God' figure on ya. I didn't believe in him though, thought it was some far-out fabrication that some guy made up to be well known, or somethin. I thought it was about money, gold. This money stuff is what us kids would fight about.

"Oh, if only people would have the money, they would have no problem taking care of us." They would say. They give ya the whole story of some bird drops a basket in a house when two grownups feel they should have kids. Bullshit... It's all bullshit to me.

Mum came back for me. The same bitch that dropped me off in the first place cause she was too damn lazy to take care of I. She took me away from that place. She gave me a new home. She started feeding me thoughts.

Now my mum has always been honest. She would never lie to a soul. Truth is, she just doesn't give two shits about peoples opinion 'cept hers. She told me her belief in God, and just about every subject she had. She even told me that the only reason she adopted me, was because she would get money out of it. Something to do with taxes or something. After her telling me about how she found me, the whole bird dropping the baby in a basket thing, seemed to make sense. The fucking thing just missed the house, that's all.

So I grew up to this belief. I still thought that my parents were out there, somewhere by that fucking rock. I was determined to find them and make the peace again. After all, Mum had shown me the place where she found me. Right down to the rock.

Where did I come from, oh where, oh where......

It was a trip to school, on a bus. I had just missed it. However, Mum had held onto her opinion that I was at school. The place was close by, just on the other side of the cemetery. Too bad the fucking thing was closed off with a fence. We must protect the dead from grave robbers and such. I don't give a toss about these rules. Just passing through, that's all. I'm not even being a burden to anything, let alone the dead. Just saving myself time. Oh precious, precious time. One would not want to waste it. And ya know the world was supposed to end quite awhile back, so much for that huh? Also, if I'm trespassing, than so is another.

I remember seeing a man, there sitting against a grave. He played a tune on his lute that I should never forget, singing:

"Cold blows the wind over my true love. Cold blows the drops of rain.

I never had, but one true love and in cold blood, He was slain.

I'll do as much for my true love as any young girl may.

I'll sit, and weep, down by his grave, for twelve month and one day." I found the tune to be rather original, compared to some of the songs I

had heard before. So I wound up a conversation with him.

"That melody. It is very deep sounding... did you make that up?" I say, hesitantly rounding up the courage to attempt creating a friendship.

"No.. It's a cover." He replies.

"A cover? Well, what's that?" I ask, sounding confused. I have to admit to feeling embarrassed for asking a question like that when I should already
know the answer.

"Well, someone else wrote it. I listened to it on the radio, sounded it out, and made my very own version of it. That's what a cover is. Taking someone else's music and playing it in your style, you know... with your own voice." He says back. I feel dumb, but slightly amazed. To think that people can write music and have it spread out in so many ways. I started to listen to the song in my head to make variety of it. The man catches me in thought.

"What the fuck's a kid like you doing in a cemetery this time of day? Shouldn't you be in school?" The man asks me.

"Well, I missed the bus. It gave me an opportunity to try something else... you know, besides school. I started thinking about how I was raised and

how my mum found me beside a rock over there." I point to my birthplace, the rock where I was found.

"The bird was supposed to drop me off at a house with my parents, but he missed. Landed on a rock. So I am here right now trying to find the house that the bird was aiming for, in hopes to actually meet my real parents." I explain.

"Oh... well you do actually believe in that stork bullshit? Sounds to

me

like your parents ditched out on raising you and left you out to die." The man argues.

"Yeah, that's what my mum says. But I still have this gut feeling that somewhere in this area, there's just answers waiting to be found... You probably think it's stupid though, and I don''t blame you."" I say to the man.

"Yeah, I think it is stupid. Really fucking dumb for a kid your age to want to know about his past. Let me just say that whatever you are dealing with right now, it is probably a better situation than you coming down to the cemetery, talkin to creeps like me. Now you should go home. And you should tell your mum everything you just done. Don''t lie now, ya hear? Get the fuck outta here before I kill ya myself, rob ya of yer fucking lunch money, and hide yer corpse underneath one of these grave stones. LEAVE!!!" The man screams.

Needless to say, I took notice of the mans threat and ran off. This is what leads to my first out of body experience. I hopped the fence, exiting the cemetery, started crossing the road and well, lets just say that I forgot to look both ways. I was flattened like a pancake.. I didn't even feel a thing.

At first, I was afraid to move, because I had known what had happened. The car stopped shortly ahead of me. A rather obese man stepped out. I remember him looking at me and muttering to himself:

"Well, at least he's close by the cemetery... what a shame though." He must have thought I was dead, and for all I know, I was. The man took a look at the front of his car, nodded his head negatively, got back

inside, and drove off, completely leaving me behind to be eaten by fucking sewer rats and such.. I think back to myself. I can't feel anything. I twisted my head to the right, and that's when the real scare hit me.

My body was lying right beside me, bloodied up from the hit and run. I remember standing up after witnessing this. I remember taking a long look at everything and thinking to myself, how this could have happened.

A look to the left alerted me to the man from the cemetery. He's hopping the gate with his guitar. He looks both ways before crossing the road, not even giving my corpse a passing glance.

Well, long story short, I thought I was dead. I was just a ghost wondering around aimlessly, confused of what I should do next. All until I spoke.

Words came out of my mouth as I said them, and Hell, I don't even
remember what I said, although, I'm sure it wasn't pleasant, what I said I mean. I was angry and confused, ya know? Didn't really care about my profanity escaping, seein as though I was dead. As a young guy, I was concerned about saying things that I shouldn't. But the words passed through me. Oh the sweet sounds of life!

Next, I grabbed a hold of my body. I felt a weird euphoria through my fingertips when I pulled. Then, I became whole again.

All I really remember, is that I was in a whole lot of pain as I made it back home. I got bitched at by Mum, then drove to a hospital where they treated my wounds.

The whole out of body thing happened on and off in very sporadic occasions. It was almost as if we were two different beings sharing the same body. Sometimes I would fall out of myself without warning, and my body would take off running like it was trying to escape a personal prison or something.

Anyways, I grew older. I graduated, and got a job opening doors for selfish rich folk. I moved out of Mum's place and got a studio apartment of my own. About a month after, Mum had some sort of stroke in her sleep. She was dead for about a week before anybody found out. Her landlord found her dead in her bed while trying to collect rent. Shame really... The landlady didn't get her money, and I lost my only true friend. I didn''t even get to keep any of her stuff.. Bank came and took it all, even some of the stuff I left behind. Those greedy bastards...

I had the same routine going for about 2 years before I got fired. Turns out that I wasn't holding the door open far enough for someone... And that's where I got into the position that I am in now. I collect unemployment every week, and that's about it..

.. ..what.....?

Oh so you think that there should be more to that?!?

I've told you most of the major key points of my life, what more could you ask of me???

...

Okay.. Well I thought I was just being nice, you know, leaving out all the boring details like how I was never social in school, or how I had a

crush on some chick back in 7th grade who fucking hated me. How about the time that I killed a gerbil because I thought it was a kickball that some kids were playing with. How the fuck was I supposed to know that some ball that kids were rolling around in the grass had a fucking hamster inside it?!? Or how about the time I was robbed while trying to buy a soda for Mum at a gas station. I got my ass kicked pretty bad from that.

... uh... well I made napalm once while fucking around with gasoline..

I

used to try to invent things that would make life easier. I also would study the human body to see if I could surpass any limitations, being a huge fan of Darwin. That is exactly how I found out how to breathe underwater. I also found ways for our bodies to adapt to the living conditions underwater, thus having an alternate living source, separate from here. I will make sure that every bit of everywhere could be used to inhabit life. Everywhere, in the whole universe, ranging from Pluto to the Sun. Step by step, you'll see.

... oh what? You still want more...?

Okay, well ...

Nah..
IV.

I exit the restrooms to find that downtown has finally awaken. Free souls are roaming around with there active interests, pursuing their goals I suppose. I turn my limp into a walk and lead on. Pain still persistent while I move. I guess that you can block all your pain if you accept some sort of religion. Well, I regret not taking some classes. I could be mindful and such to find my inner Zen, but where would that leave the pain? You know, even if your numb, the pain is still there. It's just set aside to remind you of your mistakes. Or maybe I'm just talking out of my ass right now. Truth is, I have no fucking idea about what goes on in your head to drive pain. The way I see it, all those people that meditate all the time and claim to feel no pain, well they are just faking it. There whole life is a lie, right from the moment of birth, to the minute they die. Fake.

Turns out quite a commotion has picked up where me and the giant raised fists. Yellow tape and police have yet another interest. Also close by, the media, to claim some fake story to cover up the sudden blood in the street. I am curious of what they will say..

"ERGENT NEWS!! SMALL DOWNTOWN MASSACRE!!! SOURCE UNKNOWN!!"

Yeah... well I don't think it'll be like that.. But I am not to be sidetracked, I am on a mission. I mind my own as I walk by and make my way towards Sherman Ave.

The sand seems to fall faster and faster, then a sudden stop in time. I am there. 1411 East Sherman Ave. A small, about four story high, building stands tall in front of I. This building holds my future. It shines of excellence, as do I when I enter.

The inside is kept well clean. The floor shines a reflection to anyone who enters. The staff looks top notch as well. I have to admit. I feel embarrassed to look the way I do while inside. I am all beat up. I mean, so much that you can see the bruising in my face off of the reflection from the floor. My suit is the only thing that looks even somewhat respectable.

This building holds my future, and for a second, I think I am not worthy. Then, a voice... Female, and it's not in my head.

"Can... Can I help you..?" She says hesitantly.

A woman secretary sits in front of me, in a desk with a computer and such. I take a somewhat long look at her. Just trying to make sure that I am the person she is talking to. I look right, then left. Then, seeing as there is no one here besides me and her, I step up. Making eye contact with her, and a small smile, I answer.

"I'm Ford Lott. I... I have... would like to speak to Dr. Graff. He called

me, and I'm here. Here to talk to him, so can you just tell him I''m here to talk to him, so that I can talk to him...? I'm not supposed to talk to anyone else but him, so can I talk to him? He called me because of information regarding private mat-"

"Alright, just let me inform him of your arrival. It will take just one moment." She says, completely cutting me off, but I was probably ranting anyways so it is acceptable. My point is.. Well my point is that I made my point.

She picks up the phone and presses a button. I can faintly hear a males voice on the other side.

"Dr. Graff? An odd looking man has just asked to see you regarding a

phone call? ... Ford Lott.

... Okay, I'll let him in." She says while hanging up the phone. "Dr. Graff will see you now." She says with a quick smile, then it's

back to staring at the computer. She starts to press keys on the keyboard, not even acknowledging my presence in the slightest. I stand there waiting for a response of where I should go to see the doctor. Or if I should just
wait for him to let me in somewhere or what.. She is faithful to ignorance. If anger was to be pouring out of me like a faucet connected to water, the whole room would be flooded right now. I am in too much pain from the fight to be taking this kind of shit.

I wait a couple more moments for a response. Her eye turns towards I. Then she turns her head and freezes like a confused animal when their owner offers it food, then takes it away and eats it as if never offered. Then the owner beats it for begging. The animal gives off that confused look again, and feels ashamed to be a victim of nature. Perhaps the owner would give their animal food when they begged, and when they get cut off, you get that look. And this bitch here, giving me that look. Can I help you?!? She doesn't even say anything. She's expecting me to do something.. Well I explode.

"Well, WHERE THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO GO!!!"I scream!

Stunned, she points to a door to her left. It's labeled "Dr. Graff". I give my thanks and start to casually walk towards the door. My walk turns back into a limp. I look down at my leg to notice that I am bleeding, right down my leg, onto the nice clean, reflective floor. I look back at the secretary to see that she has noticed my bleeding.

"You might want to get someone to clean this up. Looks bad for business." I tell her while turning and opening the door.

Inside, a middle-aged man in a business suit, sitting in a desk similar to the secretary's. I close the door behind me. Dizziness has kicked in. That's when I make eye contact with him. He's on a phone speaking to someone. I can't hear anything. I know he is speaking because I can see him moving his lips. Have I gone def? My eyes start to blur as they try to stay focused.

Dr. Graff. The man who is going to make my idea come into action, sitting right in front of me. Can you imagine oh say... what's that film director's name..? Stephen something... Spielberg or something like that. Well,

imagine him, wearing a business suit, sitting in a desk, talking to someone on a phone, and you have Dr. Graff. But anytime I see Stephen Spielberg, I imagine him wearing some sort of cap... well just take that off and you got Dr.

Graff.. Oh and give him bigger specks. Yeah, that's the image. A tan tie without any type of design. And he's on the bigger side, you know, with a gut that's noticeable, but not that noticeable to think that he is one of those guys that sits on his ass all day, only going to the gym once a week and doesn't give two shits about a healthy diet. And really, if just by taking one look at this guy, as if judging didn't matter at all, I mean Hell... I'm just standing here, bleeding on this guys floor, waiting for him to be done with his phone call so that we can discuss the future, you'd think that this guy wakes up each morning to his wife cooking a breakfast, he takes his anti-depressants to keep a balance of happiness and sadness, works, then goes home to take sleeping meds and pass out without even saying so much as a word to his so called "wife". His life looks as though it's on repeat, and that's just judging by looks. For all I know, he has a perfect life... whatever the fuck that is.

"Ford my boy!! Don't just stand there, have a seat." Dr. Graff tells me. I look at the two chairs in front of his desk. Then I fake a smile and sit.

Dr. Graff gives me one of those looks. You know, when the person's eyes are completely focused on yours. He was studying me just by looking into my eyes, staring at me deep inside my soul. I then realize that my excitement has turned into nervousness. You know, one of those looks. Then he smiles.

"Well, how are you Ford? ... Can I call you Ford?" He asks. I nod in agreement, then he continues.

"Good! Sorry about the phone call. You caught me at a bad time. You know all those politicians just don't know when to shut the Hell up!" He says
while giving a blank stare.

"Well Ford, as you already know, I'm Dr. Edward Graff. This paper," Dr.

Graff holds up my work.

"May just be one of the greatest Ideas I have ever heard!"

Dr. Graff gives off a wide smile. I start to feel a surge of happiness passing through my body. Everything is happening as I predicted, take a few minor details and such..

"Look pal, Einstein doesn't have shit on this. YOU, my friend, are going somewhere with this!" Dr. Graff says with a laugh.

He keeps talking, but I start to zone out. I can see him talking, but I can't hear him again. My arm is throbbing with pain. A song starts to play in my head... Paul McCartney, he's playing "Let me roll it", but it's not him playing it. It's dark. Darker than the happy song talking of love being in the form of a wheel. The guys voice... Spoon?

"Ya there man..? ... Ford?!?"

My eyes blur, then turn black. I pass out.

...

...

My eyes open for a brief moment, enough to see what looks like a doctors face. He's pushing me somewhere on a bed. I can barely move my eyes. They shut.

I've stopped moving. I open my eyes and tilt my head up to see the doctor walking ahead of me. The doctor turns the bed and pushes it into a room. On it, lies my unconscious body. Well shit...

Okay. I stand up and take a detailed look around me.

We're in a hospital. The doc put me in a room... my body I mean. I walk inside.

A number of other doctors join, passing right through me like I'm some sort of ghost or something. Of coarse they can't see me. Their focus is on my body. I take a deep breath, sit in a nearby chair, stare down at the floor, and let them do their thing.

Time once again starts flying in place. Dr. Graff has made his way into the room at some point. Doctors have been in and out, making use of that tax money they're promised.

When time starts to finally slow back to a steady pace, I look up to notice that most of the doctors have left. Now its just me, my unconscious self, Dr. Graff, and some medical doctor guy in the room.

The medical doctor walks over to Dr. Graff and puts his right hand on his shoulder.

"He's dead... We couldn't save him. It's due to some sort of blockage

in

his bloodstream, well, that and it looks like he's taken some sort of beating. Now we've done all we could to save him, but his heart has stopped for too long. I am sorry..."

Dr. Graff looks down in confusion. We're all silent now. Dead..? Fucking dead?!? HOW THE FUCK DID I DIE?!??? Was it that

giant?!?

No... I'm not dead...

He died. Not me.

I stand.

"YOU FUCKING MORON!!! THIS WAS YOUR BIG BREAK!!!" I yell at myself.

... This got something into the doctors head.

Both the doctor, and Dr. Graff rush over to my body.

"Dead?!? DEAD!!?!? The dead don't speak man!" Dr. Graff says angrily at
the doctor.

"I don't believe it! He's alive!!!

... No... No he's not... There's no pulse. He's dead.." Says the medical

doctor in confusion.

"I don't understand. He's not breathing, there's no pulse, how the fuck..?!?" The doctor shakes his head in confusion.

Standing behind both the doctors, I realize what's wrong.

"Of coarse I'm not alive... God, I feel like a dumbshit... Just let me

pull

myself back together and I'll be alright. MOVE!" I say. My body repeats me. I attempt to move the doctors aside, seeing the problem. My hand passes

through their bodies. Then I take a deep breath and walk right through them, gripping my body as I get closer and closer. Pulling hard, I become myself again.

Suddenly I start to feel the drugs that the doc's used trying to get me back and beating. The heart-rate monitor starts to beep, and my chest starts to rise as I fill my lungs with fresh air. Not too many people know the feeling of getting this air back. Imagine that you are dead for an extended period of time, all the air has escaped you, and say some doctors have tried to shock you back to life three or four times. Well let me tell you that the feeling of getting air back into your lungs after something like that, ... It's

fucking Heaven.

I vividly open my eyes to see the doctors, both scared and confused at what happened. They heard me talk, every word. I guess that's good enough reason to be scared and confused. Both the doctors have stepped back.

"It's ... It's a miracle... " The medical doctor mutters. Then pulling Graff aside, he whispers.

"Is there something that your not telling me? All of this is very, very bazaar."

"No... No but this is great! Now the plan can come into action!" Dr. Graff explains with confidence. He says something else with excitement, but I zone it out.

Both the doctors leave me, for only what I will assume to be rest... I assume that because they turned the light out, but my eyes wont close. They start to wonder, aimlessly like a pair of lazy eyes. Then they focus. I am lifted in the air. My eyes roll to the back of my head to see the man behind the desk again. He's writing on some paper and looks very stressed. For some reason, it just occurred to me that the man in my head, sitting at a desk, could very well be the person that is controlling my body when I am out.

He pauses, then looks up at me.

"No. Don't worry, I would never want to leave this place. If I did, who would organize all your thoughts? You would be a mess without me. A real mess, and I am not responsible for your body's actions. I'm just in charge of your thoughts." He assures me with a brief smile. Then he looks back down and continues to write.

Well that's kind of a relief I guess. Solves one mystery to make another. But it doesn't explain why I am lifted in mid air right now.

The man looks up at me again.

"If you would stop staring at me, and open your eyes, you would see that there is a dark figure in front of you right now. It seems he is using some magic or something to lift you up."

I blink my eyes and look to see that my body has straightened out. And sure enough, there was a dark figure in front of me. The ground forms underneath me, as I am set gently on the floor. I appear weightless, but the figure in front of me, I can't quite make it out... ..God..?

"Your joking right?!? Even God wouldn't approach a figure of my
greatness. Not your God anyways." The figure steps towards I.

"However, this "God" character you speak of, He has given me a duty. One of which I am going to fulfill. Our brother Odin, He may have failed. I will not." He says.

His face is now visible. At least I think he is a guy.. His body reeks of some glowing nature. He has the same vibe given from the Giant. I speak.

"Oh yeh? And... And what is it that this Odin fuck failed to do?" I

spit

at him.

"YOU!! You must be stopped. You are aimed to change the fate of all man?!? Our Maker DOES NOT AGREE!!!" The man screams at me.

"So... God put a hit on me. Makes sense I guess. You look through a telescope and find some asteroid aimed to destroy earth or aliens or something, the government has to keep you quiet. I find the next step in human evolution, same thing right..?" I say in all seriousness. The man remains quiet.

"Odin was the giant folk I ran into a few hours back huh? Alright. So who does that make you?" I ask.

There is a moment of silence and a blank stare, ending when he kneels his head to make what looks like a bow.

"I am the Archangel called Enoch!" He says while ending the bow, making a far better introduction than the giant.

"And I am willing to offer you an option our brother did not." He says.

This gets my attention.

"Come with me! You will take your place beside the Gods where you were truly meant to be. Leave this place, for you have served your purpose. If you were trying to make a point, you have succeeded. You are needed elsewhere, Brother Virgil.""

He waits, looking truthful about his offer. I think the option through. I don't really know who this Virgil character is, but I am the only one

who will own myself! God or not, I am going to succeed. This is my breakthrough. I will succeed.

"So, Enoch. Are you anything like your brother..? Because he whined like a little bitch as I ripped his FUCKING HEAD OFF!!! WHY DON''T YOU TAKE THAT OPTION AND SAVE IT FOR... for... for... FUCKING SHOVE IT!!! I may be hurt, but

I have l done so much to make it where I am right now. I WILL NOT FALL!!" I answer politely.

"Virgil, your mind has been corrupted." Enoch states. I give off a blank stare in confusion.

Enoch seems to think that I am this "Virgil" character. Perhaps I was in one point, not that I would know anything about that.

"THINK!!! Virgil, you must remember!! You must stop running. I do not wish you harm, but you must STOP!! Give up, and come back with me, back to the Heavens. This charade has gone on too long. YOU MUST GIVE IN!!!" Enoch yells.

"I think you have me confused with someone else." I explain.

Enoch stares down at the ground.

"I know you think you know who you are, but you don't." Enoch mutters. "Well genius, seeing as though you know who I am better than myself,

start talking." I command.

Enoch looks up.

"You, Virgil, you are the same as our brothers and myself. You were handpicked by Our Maker, chosen I might add, for a task." Enoch explains.

He looks at me, giving me a very serous look. One that is expecting an understanding. I give off a look that says a million words. I am nodding, looking around to witness what Enoch has said for granted. Then I make eye contact. Enoch starts up a smile, convinced that he is not looking at Ford
anymore, but this "Virgil" . I am not Virgil.. So therefore, my actions probably won't have positive reactions.

"Bullshit..." I mutter.

"Do your job Enoch, but I will have you know, I'm not going out without a fight." I say, making my point.

Enoch's smile vanishes. I have to give myself some credit. I mean how many people can say that they fooled one of God's minions, not too long after demolishing another, I might add. Enoch looks back at the ground.

"You need not fight me in that condition..." He says, pulling some sort of bright, blue blade out of his sheath. He then starts to walk towards I.

In less than a blink, the blue glowing blade thrusts into my chest. My whole body stiffens instantly. I can feel my blood flowing, faster and faster. My heart feels like it is going to burst out of my chest. Then, just as fast as he pushed it in, Enoch removes it.

I fall, but there's no pain. None, as if my confrontation with the giant had never happened. I move my arms, then feel my chest. There wasn't a puncture wound from Enoch's blade. My mind is racing to find out what just happened, when I decide to look up. Enoch speaks.

"Feel better?" He asks. I nod positively while holding a confused expression.

"Of coarse you do." He tells me.

Enoch steps back towards the door and stops again.

"You have been purified. When you think you are ready to face me, step outside."

Enoch starts to step out. Well I can't very well let him do that without saying anything.

"Ya know, a whole lot of people could use something like that. I mean.. look where you are right now. You are in a hospital, probably full of patients ready about witness their own death. You have the power to heal people just by sticking them with your knife. If I had that power of yours...

Think about the way this world is, and think about how it could be. What I'm getting at is, if people can be helped by people like us, what's stopping us?"

Enoch gives a deep breath, then opens his mouth.

"Oh Virgil, had you not run away... This is the very reason why you

must

be stopped." he says right before exiting the room.

Alright... Well in truth, I have no real plan, I got nothing. But really,

I don''t need one. I feel that I have been in worse situations and have come out clean. Enoch seems to think that I am a God. Or, well I used to be one. Who am I to tell him otherwise? He seems to think that I am doing something wrong, yet he could heal everyone in the world with that blade of his, if only his action would change. He will die by my hand.

I stand. I give myself a quick pat down only to realize, I have no weapon. Those bastards took my cuttooth away when they brought me in... No worries, I am a God, I think... Or Enoch thinks, or one of his minions or whatever.

... But so is he.

I smile. Stepping outside, I witness Enoch, waiting patiently beside the door. His arms crossed, eyes closed.

A quick glance at me is followed by a grin. His right hand makes a movement towards a door in front of him. I speak.

"So... In here, then? Here?" I wait patiently for a response. Enoch gives a dead glare somewhat like the secretary in Dr. Graff's

office. I get the hint, then head inside.

To my surprise, the door led to a large room that didn't seem to fit the scenery of the hospital. The roof was a couple of stories high, and the
room was extremely well-lit. The floor looked like it was made out of some sort of clay, same with the walls. Enoch shuts the door.

"One of my little domains. This area should be spacious enough." He tells me. I nod in agreement, but one question pops up.

"So, that blade of yours, it can cause pain as well as purification, right?" I ask.

Pulling out the blade, Enoch takes a fighting stance. He replies. "Just like you, I am the master of my puppets!" He pauses, then

continues

"You... You have no weapon equipped. Surely you do not plan on fighting me with just your bare hands?!?"

There is a moment of silence. I think back to what my options are; I''m very limited at the moment. I close my eyes, and take a deep breath. When I release my air, all my thoughts of discomfort will come out. I will be ready to accept what lies ahead of me, and I will fight with every ounce of energy. I open my eyes.

Enoch pulls a dagger from behind. Looking at it closely, he speaks. "This, it belongs to you."

Enoch kneels down and sets my cuttooth on the floor.

It feels great. You know, just to see a familiar object in this fucked up series of unfortunate events. My knife, my cuttooth, it lies on the floor in front of me at the foot of Enoch.
V.

Okay, well it seems that I am leaving out some details that I thought were not important. This is about my knife, how I found it, and why I keep it close to myself at all times. If you wish not to read about this history, I would ask you to skip a few pages ahead. I only ask this because, this section is kind of boring to a certain extent. This is due to the fact that there is not a whole lot of action involved. Long story short, I found the knife in some statues mouth on the way to work one day. The reason I hold onto it is because I feel it has some sort of power to it. Yup! That's it really, so you can just skip a few pages right now, because it really has nothing to do with what''s going on in the story. I just thought that I would be nice and share some thought. Me being a judger in all, I figured that it would make sense to inform you why Enoch is giving me my cuttooth, and not just some other weapon... or even a weapon at all. The way I see it, Enoch is all about fairness and honor when it comes to a fight. So him giving me a weapon would make sense, seeing as though he has one. Me personally, I just want to keep the peace. But that is against the law, so therefore, I must be put to death. Yup, I said death. No slap on the back from anyone. No telephone call informing me to stop what I am doing. No fucking word from "God". Just good old fashioned death. Odin, the giant, could have told me that what I am doing is against Gods law. Instead he tried to kill me. And with Enoch pretty much doing the same thing, 'cept for giving me another option, still involving stopping me of what I am doing (which I might add is beneficial to mankind), I begin to feel that Gods methods are a little over the top for someone like me. Anyways, I feel I'm beginning to rant again.

To get anywhere from where I am, to where I wish to be, I walk. And except for the occasional bus ride to school, that is what I have done. Walking everywhere. Whether it be to the store, post office, unemployment office, museum, work, or wherever, I walked. My mum was a subject to being independent, with the exception of myself. I guess that I could say I picked up a few traits from her.

Anyways, a few weeks after Mum's death, I am found walking to work. On my way to becoming a useless tool opening doors for the greedy.

Well I trip. I fail to catch myself from a decent drop on the sidewalk, seems gravity had a different plan for me, and well so did my body.

My body reacted quick to the drop, much faster than I. If you were one of the mindless zombies roaming around downtown that day, you would see my body, dressed in a uniform to please the modern man, booking it across the street from my fall, into a nearby alleyway. I got up and ran after myself once again.

In this out of body form, I cannot feel pain, energy depletion, or too much else. I can move objects, people, and such, but they cannot see me. Also, being in a somewhat ghost-form, I can pass through certain objects. I am limited to walls and floors and such, although I swear I've passed through

a wall before once. From my past experience, only my body can see myself, but most of the time, it is running away from me, like some kid who just stole something, but got caught in the action. Now, I am like the police guy screaming at the top of my lungs, trying to make myself stop. My body always repeats my words, whether I am inside or not. So you would think that if I just stood still... yeah, that's not the way it works for me.

Sometimes I would make myself look like a real idiot when my body ran away from me. I would yell out some crazy ramblings to get some peoples attention. Always I would hope that the people would take the time to pin me down so that I could have an easier time catching up with myself, but all people usually do is stare and sometimes laugh.

I was the guy in health class who asked the most obtuse questions. You know, that one guy who should already know the answer to a question, but
doesn't, and because of his curiosity, he is shunned by both the teacher and the class. When the topic came up that I got separated from my body, everyone's reaction seemed rather negative. I was later called loony, nutcase, insane, maniac, psychopath, and absurd for a short period of time. That is when the time came that I would stop asking questions. Why is it that people are curious about things. The big question being: "WHY?". Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it taught the dog and everyone else how to act. Us being humans, we always have to ask why, but I rather enjoy asking the question of why not.

Some kid ran into me when he heard that I had these out of body experiences. I would later find out that it was only because of his constant use of LSD, that he was able to escape from his mind. I have always stayed away from drugs. Mum told me some of her experiences with drugs. In a way, I took it as inspiration to stay sober.

So anyways, here I am, running as fast as my ghostly form lets itself. I am after my body, who seems to think that he has a mind of his own. I catch up to myself, my body has come to a complete stop.

A man is standing beside my body. Also, they are both by some sort of statue, a giant mouth, grinning to reveal its teeth. All of its teeth are in the form of knives.

"Where are its eyes and ears?" I asked, my body interpreting me word for word.

The man gave off a small smile.

"This being, it lacks the power to see evil. It lacks the power to hear evil. It does however have the ability to speak it." He said.

Completely ignoring the man, I grab a hold of myself. My body gave in completely.

The man looked at me in the eyes, then turned around to face the statue. When he turned back to face me, in his hand, he held a dagger.

"One of its teeth. You two will have use of this." He said, while handing me the blade.

"Sheathe it well. And when your voice needs to be heard, let it speak." So yeah, that's pretty much how it happened. I gave it the name

"cuttooth", because it was a pretty sharp dagger for one, and two, it came out of a statues mouth.

I took it wherever I went, holding onto it made somewhat of a problem. I made a sheathe out of duct tape, it didn't really work out. Ended up just keeping it in my pocket.

I remember going to work after he gave me the cuttooth. I've been holding onto it ever since.

Two things still trouble me about that incident.

Like say, why did my body come to a complete stop right there, when in the past it hasn't. When I pulled myself back together, my body surrendered, no struggle whatsoever.

And also how he said, "You two will have use of this." after giving me the cuttooth. "Two" being the keyword there. He saw me as two individual people. Well that's what I got out of it. Either that, or someone else was there that I didn't happen to see, but not likely.

VI.

I walk over to my knife on the floor. While bending over to pick it up, Enoch's blade makes a quick movement towards my neck. He stops, just rubbing it against my throat, I can feel how sharp and dangerous it is. I am frozen, but my cuttooth is latched to my right hand with a death-grip from Hell, ready to strike at any given moment.

Enoch is toying with me. All it will take to bring him a defeat, is one, quick, fluid motion. My head will become separated faster than that of a
guillotine. That's my guess anyways. My cuttooth isn't along the lines of dull, but it did take some muscle and power, even in my ghost form, to decapitate that Odin fellow. But I haven't the clue how strong Enoch is when compared to me.

A few seconds of silence makes it feel like time has somehow stopped. I break it.

"So, Enoch, I take it that we're not up to taking ten paces..?" Enoch lowers his knife, leaving somewhat of a mark on my neck. "Fair enough. I'll play your little game.." Enoch steps back.

Me, still in my crouched position, I rise. Swinging my right arm up, I attempt to lift the cuttooth. I tried to point it at Enoch So we can start the countdown. My little action was an immediate fail.

My cuttooth now shoots behind me, across the room. With a small burst of sound, the blade becomes stuck. It is in the wall behind I, a good ten to twelve feet above my head.

Enoch looks at me and starts to chuckle, this chuckle turns into a full blown laugh.

"Our Maker, he said your host was a fool, but... I couldn't even imagine..." Enoch says, laughing with every word.

"Is Virgil in there at all..? Our Maker said that he made a mistake but... I truly had no idea."

Enoch seems to be on the verge of tears right about now. I had no idea

that these "minions" of God had such a sense of humor. It doesn't fit if you

ask me. Enoch was in all seriousness until now, and even though I seemed to

make a mistake, I think that I might have the upper hand now.

... looks like I thought too soon.

Enoch is silent now. He wears a smile with his eyes closed.

"You... A God..? You, slain our brother Odin. But he didn't go without

a

fight. Otherwise, you wouldn't be in a hospital."

Enoch's words made me feel uncomfortable, not that I didn't feel uncomfortable when I chucked my weapon across the room. But the way he spoke, it felt like he wasn't just talking to me, but to my soul outlined in my bones. It seemed that even though his eyes were closed, he could see me. ...

Wait a second... yeah, I don't believe in any of this spiritual bullshit. Sure,

Odin left a few scars on me, but it was I who pulled myself up in the end. Enoch's eyes are still closed. If I could just sneak by the wall, maybe

if I took off one of my shoes, I could toss it at my cuttooth to get it to fall. Looking back at it now, maybe I could just jump for it.

I reach the wall, Enoch is still in the same spot as before. I try jumping up towards it, only to feel dumb in the end. It is too high for me to reach. I decide to take off my left shoe.

Standing back up, I see that Enoch is on the move, walking one step at a time in my direction.

I throw my shoe, only to come up short by a few feet. I catch my shoe and try again, coming short once more.

At the corner of my eye, Enoch is making distance. My thoughts start to race. Instinct tells me to run away, but I can't move. Dropping my shoe, I turn.

Enoch is now face to face with me.

"Brother, I would give you a warriors death. However, your host does not deserve it. "

Enoch's left hand shoves me into the wall, followed by his sword in his right.

When his knife pierces my chest, pain doesn't seem to have an option.

It went all the way through me, stabbing through the wall behind as well.

Enoch slowly opens his eyes and makes contact with mine. I can spot the
fury and bloodlust in his expression.

Time seemed to have stopped altogether. I look down to see that both my hands have gripped onto the blade in my chest, my fingers, cut while trying to keep the knife in place.

I take advantage of the clot in the sands, and step outside my body...

oh

yeah, I forgot to tell you that I can do that. A lot of times when I am asleep, and say my desk lady doesn't let me in right away, if I get impatient, I take a step outside. I didn't know that I could do it until I got out of high school. Just got curious I guess... Tried it and it worked. But

I usually don't do this when my body's awake, because it takes off running once it realizes that it's separated. And it doesn't do anything when it's asleep.

So, I stepped outside myself.

Okay.

Now what..?

What should I do? If I don't act fast, I could die.

Think...

THINK!!!

There's something... right?

I take a close look at Enoch. Then turn my head towards myself. A close look inside my Bloodshot extensively open eyes, revels the man in my head. He's out of his desk and writing something on some sort of chalkboard on the back wall. I can't quite make out what he is writing, because he stands in front of it. When he moves, he speaks.

"Well bud, looks like ya got a few options presented to you. A few being only three. And they're in the form of a riddle, have fun!" He says while walking out of sight.

I focus my eyes, and take a closer look at the chalkboard.

There are three phrases, each with a check-box next to them.

  1. Beg the "?" ?

  2. Bend the truth ?

  3. Bail out the basement while there's holes in the roof ?

When reading these phrases, I am reminded of lyrics from a Crass punk lick, that I haven't listened to since high school. I examine the situation, there's something that has to fit.

  1. Beg the "?" ?

Okay... Well, Enoch has stabbed me in the chest, no question about it. But even though I'm expressing extravagant pain, I really don't think that he has hit anything major, so there's one advantage.

  2. Bend the truth ?

Well, this one attack isn't going to kill me, but make me stronger..? Nah. I would really like to stay positive about this, but my situation is telling me otherwise. There still must be some way to stop Enoch.

  3. Bail out the basement while there's holes in the roof ?

I'm Now, these lyrics I am sure are wrong, I mean really... Who the hell really knows any of the lyrics when it comes to Crass? The voice is all over
the place. Whatever, I'm assuming that this one refers to me running awaywhen I had the chance. Well, looking to the roof, I don't really see an

option to escape.

... Wait a second..! MY CUTTOOTH!!!! It is in mid-air!! It must have become loose when angel boy here shoved me into the wall.

Cool!

Now, I got a plan.

I rush back and pull myself into my body.

I start to feel the pain I had left when I stepped out. Time starts to flow at a slow, moderate pace.

Enoch, still with his death-glare, looks almost about ready to rip out the blade out and finish me off. My right hand lets go of his knife and reaches out to my side.

My lungs have ceased to release air. I cannot breathe in or out., but I don't care. My cuttooth is falling, faster and faster as the sands fill the glass, and I aim to catch it.

The second it touches my hand, my grip on it becomes my top concern. I don't even care if I don't survive this. The tables are going to turn in my favor either way. Enoch is going to die.

Time is completely back to normal, or it might be a little fast...

whatever.

One swing is all it took.

Enoch's pupils in his eyes just about disappeared. As they drift away from looking at me, Enoch lets out a roar of pain and falls backwards. I have detached his right arm from his body.

It all happened so fast, and here is Enoch. He's on his knees and left hand, bleeding out all over the base of the floor. His face turns white.

I am proud to say that Enoch is in shock, but here I am, completely fucked, still holding onto his blade, and I can't help myself for admiring the quick turn of events. My breathing situation is still the same.

Enoch's hand is still gripped onto his blade, his arm hanging toward the ground. I feel paralyzed, but then I decide to try moving, I start to walk.

The blade comes loose from the wall.

I fall to my knees. Looking down at the ground, I see that Enoch has decorated a majority of the floor with his blood.

The corner of my eye spots Enoch sitting up, trying to kneel, but falling back on his knees in the process.

I cough. Blood spits out of my mouth. I try to breathe, but fail once again. I look up at Enoch. We make eye contact. He speaks.

"YOU!!!... You fool... or maybe it is I who is the fool."

I open my mouth to attempt to make words, once again stumbling with meaningless muttering.

"You, are truly one of a kind. You played off an illusion right in front of me, I walked right into your trap. I am impressed!" Enoch spits out.

Dizziness is starting to take place in my head, causing my vision to

blur.

"Brother! surely I will not return to Our Maker with news of failure. NO!! Brother, I admit defeat... I give you my word. Now... As an enemy of Our Maker... I am... at your service..."

Enoch then exhales and falls. His body then almost immediately shines of heavy light. So followed, his right arm and blade.

I am lifted into the air. Then, like a black hole, my body sucks up all the heavy light. I start to my blood rushing again. I once again attempt to breathe in. I am successful.

As I exhale, I am set back onto the ground. My body feels rejuvenated, and rather different. I rip out Enoch's blade, his arm still attached to it.
My skin forms immediately on my chest. My back and spine however, feel somewhat compressed.

I take off the jacket top, that's over my suit. Then, stretching all of my muscles, the back of my suit tears.

Confused, I reach over my shoulder to feel my spine. I am stunned, as when my hand makes it over my shoulder, I feel a soft, feather-like, texture.

I decide to look down at my reflection in Enoch's blood. A shock surges through my body, my eyes expand, pupils amplify, I become shocked at what I see.

I have wings.
VII.

Truly amazing. Enoch has given me the gift of flight. Two wings that seemed to spawn out of nowhere. New muscles and bones formed behind me, that other human beings currently lack. Now, if only I knew how to use them.

Looking to Enoch's corpse, his body has decomposed to just a mere skeleton. His flesh and muscle, replaced by bones in his armor. This includes his right arm, his hand, still gripped to his blade. Must've happened when he got all bright and vivid with light.

However, his knife, it looks like I could have some use for it, if I only knew how to heal with it. Well, one will never know unless he tries... right?

I walk over to his right arm and blade, my wings catch the air as I

walk.

It's an unusual feeling when the wind blows on a body part that you've never had before. As the wind hits, I can already tell how powerful my new wings are. The feeling can describe how air is more than just a substance. It has a heavy physical matter as well. Moving a muscle that I never had, it's close to my shoulder blades, my wing makes the air feel almost like water. It's as if air has a magnetic grip to my wings.

Yes! Now not only will I rule the underwater realm, but the sky as

well.

And with this healing knife, everyone will see me as this "God" that I'm supposed to be.

Starting with this hospital, I will do what Enoch should have done, but failed. Violence was his answer. Peace will never succeed with his violent judgments. I know that I sound somewhat hypocritical, but my actions earlier were only committed for the sake of mankind. I will heal everyone with this blade! Then maybe, I could donate it to science, so that they can unlock it's secret, and hold onto the peace that I will soon bring.

Picking up the blade, Enoch's boney fingers still had a death-grip... literally. With my cuttooth, I pry the bone from the blade. When free, I set my cuttooth down, and hold Enoch's blade firmly.

Giving it a few swings, I realize that it is as light as a twig. As a matter a fact, it seems that the only weight it has, is in the handle. The glow is lost as well. Perhaps I have to be in the process of trying to heal someone for it to glow.

The swords sheathe is still attached to the back of Enoch's armor. I have no need for his armor, but his sheathe, I could use. I walk over and kneel, trying my luck to untie it. I am successful. Seems that these "Gods" from the heavens above, use similar methods to us for tying knots.

Equipping my new sheathe, I place my newly acquired blade away. Looking down at Enoch, I question if he has any other valuables I could

use. I start to remove his armor.

Nothing under the armor, except for the bones of the dead archangel. Huh..?

Well, that explains it.

Underneath his armor, lay two featherless wings.

"Ya know Enoch, it would have been nice if you would've given me an instruction manual or something on how to use these things." I say, referring to my new wings, and of course, how to heal people with the blade.

"But, I guess dying is more your style." I mutter with sarcasm. I make the decision to leave the room. Enoch created this place

himself...... or maybe it was given to him... well either way, it belonged to

him,

so it should be a good eternal resting place for him.

As I walk out the door, back into the hospital hallway. The corridor seemed to be empty. Upon shutting the door, the room seemed to change. The
door had "JANITORIAL STORAGE" written on it. Kind of funny that I didn't notice that before.

When I try to open it again, it was locked. Makes sense I guess... seeing

as though all these janitorial supplies could be hazardous to patients and other staff. I leave it alone.

I take a quick glance at my surroundings, then a look at myself in a reflection off the glass of a portrait. I notice that I don't quite fit the profile of either a patient, or the staff here. The reflection of me shows a man, wearing nothing but a pair of dress pants, socks, and one single shoe. Not to mention that I have two, extremely noticeable wings.

I have to act quick, before someone notices me. I mean, what would you do, if you were in a hospital, and saw some guy who looks like a fucked up angel with a sword, walking around..? Chances are, that people are going to get a similar reaction.

Surely there is someone in the hospital that could use this healing blade of mine.

I walk into the first doorway to my right.

A doctor is performing, what looks like surgery, on a patient. A few others are with him.

I sneak behind, trying not to quite give myself away.

Looking over their shoulders, it seems that they haven't quite cut him open yet.

I take a couple of steps back, and unsheathe Enoch's blade.

The sound has gotten their attention. They all turn their heads, all giving off different expressions. The male doctor speaks.

"Who... What do you want..?!?" He says, in a frightened tone. I speak

up.

"Look, just step aside, all of you. I know what I'm doing." All the doctors seemed focused on my wings.

"You can trust me. I'm a God." I say with an ensuring tone.

My right arm, gently moves the doctors aside.

"Here, lies a man who is ill. He will be the first, but most certainly not the last one, to be healed by the powers invested in myself, and this blade."

I step up to the man and raise Enoch's blade as high as I can, and in one downward motion, I stab the patient in the chest.

The man's eyes shoot open. Followed by a foul sound of displease from his mouth. He starts coughing up blood, and shaking excessively.

This goes on for a few seconds as his eyes start to roll to the back of his head.

Gasping for air, the man starts to bite his tongue, all while I hold onto the blade.

Then, in the blink of an eye, he stops moving. The machine next to him flatlines.

Everything seems to be frozen due to the current event. The man has died, and here I am, covered in his blood.

Slowly, I let go of the blade, and turn around to face the doctors, all of them in shock from witnessing the event. I break the silence.

"Umm... Okay, let me explain wha-"

"WHAT IN GODS NAME?!? WHAT ARE YOU?!? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!?" The doctor yells. I start to speak, only to be interrupted.

"THOSE WINGS!!"

"ARE YOU AN ANGEL..?" one nurse says while fainting.

"Look! This sword, it was supposed to heal... It heals people!! I swear...

I... It was supposed to help, not hurt him... Enoch you bastard..." I say in my own
defense. But one look around could tell you that it won't matter.

I expected nothing short of a miracle, and what I got, the complete opposite.

"HELP!!!" screams one doctor as he runs out into the hallway. Well, this is no good now is it..? I turn to face the patient once

again. On the wall next to him, a window.

I move the man's bed aside and peek out he glass. It seems that I'm only a couple stories high, and maybe these wings could help out a bit.

Looking back at the patient, I grab Enoch's blade and rip it out of his chest.

Then, I start swinging it at the window, attempting to break the glass. It doesn't seem to be doing any damage, and after about six hits, the blade shatters into pieces.

"ENOCH YOU USELESS PRICK!!!!" I scream in anger.

I drop the broken blade and examine the scenery, looking for something to break the glass.

Straight out the door, in the hallway, a fire extinguisher catches my eye. I rush towards it.

In the hallway, the corner of my eye observes a mass of people heading in my direction. Quickly, I grab the fire extinguisher and dash back to the window.

Then, using all my strength, I strike the glass with extinguisher. My repeated actions sum up to fall short. The glass is too strong to bust with just my strength alone. I have my doubts that even a gun couldn't make this arrogant window have a different reaction. I accept this as perfection, and give up.

I drop the fire extinguisher. A glance behind me, notes a group of people, now surrounding the doorway to the room. All the faces, rounding towards the look of shock. The two in front of everyone, they look like security.

The reactions, HA! I feel out of place once again. Everyone, shocked by my actions. Before it was just my out of body moments that caused negative feedback. Now I have to answer to someone's death. Except, that's not what they're all shocked about. No ones even looking at the bloody mess on the bed, they are looking at me. They are looking at the fact that some guy's walking around a hospital with the wings of an archangel. Walking around with these "gifts" of God. Enoch said that I was a God, so what's the matter..? It's like they've never seen a God up close before. And if that's true, then what the fuck have they been praying to on Sundays?!?

One of the security personnel steps up towards me.

"The window... J... Just, you just have to unlock by turning the switch. It

will open." The man points at the lock.

Upon seeing this, I react with a face palm. I guess that my adrenaline from this incident completely hid the obvious. One simple procedure, then I pulled the window open to reveal a screen.

Looking back at everyone, I smile while muttering my thanks. Then I push the screen out with my hands. It falls for a few seconds before impact, making me have second thoughts about jumping. I climb up, then drop.

Moving my shoulder blades around, I attempt to catch the air with my wings. My goal was to either fly, or ease my landing on the soft grass. I'm not so sure it did anything though...

I land on my chest. The grass felt more like cement as I got the wind knocked out of me.

I bounced on the ground once before coming to a complete stop. The ground came at me a lot faster than expected, making the screens fall seem a little exaggerated.

My body felt a surge of pain jolt through. Everything feels numb. I
start to black out.

...

...

... No...

I'm not going to let myself pass out again.

I open my eyes and push myself back on my feet. A parking garage is in my line of sight.

I slowly start making my way towards it. Perhaps, I could just steal a car and drive it away. But then again, I have no experience driving, nor do I know how to hot-wire a car.

My thoughts are racing, my body is numb. I can walk, move, see just about everything.

I put my hand on the wall of the garage. It passes right through. Seeing this, I turn my sight behind me to see my body, completely

unconscious.
VIII.

I look to my body, then turn to view all my surroundings. Looking at the window that I jumped from, I see the faces of doctors. As a matter a fact, most of the windows had faces inside, all looking at my body.

Quickly, I run towards myself. I'm not breathing.

Pulling as hard as my might allows, my body is being stubborn. It resists every nudge, pull, and punch. I scream.

"..." no response from my body.

Screaming as loud as my lungs allow, my corpse still sits stationary. People are now rushing out the hospital, in my direction. Panicking, I

run to the garage wall. Chatter starts formation.

"What is it?!?"

"That's not human!!!"

"Is it dead?!?"

"Don't get too close to it, whatever it is, it killed a patient before jumping out!!!"

"Should we try to help it..?"

The gossip continued for about a minute before a man yelled. "EVERYONE!! MOVE ASIDE!! I AM HIS DOCTOR!!!" He says, this is the same

man that was caring for me when I passed out earlier. Dr. Graff is next to him.

The doctor kneels down beside my body, then comes back up almost immediately.

"He's dead... Now, everyone needs to move!! The military will be here very soon to observe the situation. They will probably question everyone, so that means nobody can leave the premises, but in the meantime, there are still patients that need our full attention!!"

Well, there you have it. The doctor, once again pronounces me dead.

They throw a cloth over my remains and carry on with their business.

Well, fuck...

So much for things to go right... I have killed myself, without even proving to the people, all the possibilities the human race. No underwater society to demonstrate. I didn't even get to fly, or heal anyone with Enoch's blade.

The sands are falling fast now. Some military hooligans load me up in a truck of some sort on a bed, still covered in the same sheet. I follow, I mean what have I got to lose..?

Soldiers are surrounding my corpse in the bed of the truck. Look like the national guard. All of them have some sort of gun in their hand. The expressions of them aren't out of the ordinary. Maybe they get to see shit like this everyday... or maybe they're just happy that it's dead.

Everyone's talking some sort of gibberish, but I'm not too much into paying attention.

I feel fucked.

All I can concentrate on is the fact that I fucked up. I scream. "It's all your fault... IT'S ALL YOUR FUCKING FAULT!! YOU HAVE

EVERYTHING

TO GAIN YOU FUCKING SELFISH PRICK!!! ...FUCK!!!!"

...

A moment of silence occurs, then the soldiers jump.

"DID THAT FUCKING THING JUST SPEAK?!?"

"SIR!! Didn't someone pronounce that thing dead?!?"

"EVERYONE STAND DOWN!! " said by what looks like a sergeant, or someone of some order.

What looks like a medic takes a stand.

"It's dead." he says.

Everyone jumps in.
"ARE YOU SURE?!?"

"Sir, the dead don't talk. And that thing just spoke." "It was speaking English too."

"And is it just me, or did it sound like he was just telling someone

off..?"

A few seconds of silence occurred. This was followed by all the soldiers raising their weapons towards my remains.

"STAND DOWN!!! THAT'S AN ORDER!!!" a command by what seems to be the leader of the pact. They all lower their weapons.

I smile.

I take this as an opportunity.

I have spoken, my body has repeated. I am still alive... well somewhat. A new goal, has opened for me. I will hopefully attach to myself,

become whole again, and we can find a way out of this situation.

I leap through the soldiers, and onto my corpse. Pulling as hard as I can, my body lifts up in the air, followed by the weapons of the soldiers.

"FUCKING GIVE IN!!!!"

My body falls back down, my eyes slowly open, then close. Soldiers

rant.

"Sir, what's going on right now?!?!?" "Fucking give in..?!? What does it mean..?"

"STAND DOWN!!!!! NEXT ONE THAT GETS OUT OF LINE IS GOING TO LOSE A RANK!!!" says the big chief.

When my eyes open again, I will be myself.

My right hand grabs my cuttooth and jabs backwards.

My eyes shoot open to witness that I have stabbed one of the soldiers in the chest. My left hand jumps and grabs his weapon, and without even considering to think about what I'm doing, I attack.

My start to jab my cuttooth in random directions, hitting something each swing.

The sounds of gunfire execute as the soldiers fire. I squeeze the trigger and spread bullets in every which way.

A bullet from someone, manages to find it's way into my shoulder. As a reaction, my wings broadly spread, cutting through the sides of

the truck, knocking soldiers down as well.

The truck stops. Everything is silent for a few seconds. I sit up. When I remove the sheet, I behold all the damage that was caused by

myself.

I managed to kill everyone in the truck... I think. Then, without warning, I capture all the pain I was avoiding. Including the drop from the hospital, and the gunshot wound to my shoulder. Looking to my right at the wound, I see my wing, oozing with blood from a broken bone. At least that's what I thought. I could have been shot more than once, seeing the bed of the truck complete with bullet and blood decorations from the roof to the floor. I lay back down, taking deep breaths to calm myself, trying not to

think of the pain.

I can hear footsteps, coming from outside the truck. I shoot back up, and pull my wings back, feeling an all new pain from my right wing. With a new body part, you gain the feeling of a new muscle. Be it pleasure, or pain. The feeling is new, but mutual all the same.

I put my cuttooth at my side, and feel around myself for another gun, seeing as though I used all the rounds in mine. At least I think I used all my rounds... well I'm not going to gamble when there is someone outside that wants to get the jump on I. I pick up a weapon from the floor. I'm not really sure what kind of gun this is, but my hopes rely that it has enough ammunition to take on whoever is outside.
The door at the end of the truck is making sound. I ready my weapon, pointing it at the door. The door drops.

Outside, three soldiers stand in front of the door, all completely wide eyed from what they set their eyes upon. When looking at me, they don't even have their weapons pointed at me. I lower mine. The soldier speaks.

"My Lord... SHIT!!! WERE GONNA NEED BACKUP!!!"

One of the soldiers gets on his radio and speaks some military talk.

Then they ready their weapons.

Oh the fear.

The trepidation is steaming off the soldiers. So much that I can almost taste it in the air. You would think that they would have shot me on sight, but I guess that seeing the mess that I caused, it will take more intimidation. They just called for backup, and well, I'm not going to play ball. After a deep breath, I speak.

"Now, why'd you have to go and do something like that..?"

I stand, then make my way to the end of the door. Words cause me to pause.

"DON'T FUCKING MOVE!!!" The soldier screams at me. I halt, then, making eye contact, I grin.

I step out the truck, onto rough dirt, my left leg caves in. I'm still missing a shoe. Still smiling, I stand tall, holding the gun up with my right arm, blood still escaping the injury.

The landscape is unfamiliar with me. It's been awhile since I've been out of town. Last time I left town, was a field trip to some museum. Other than that, I've really never set foot on distant lands from my home. This place, it's a desert land with dry humidity, not even a building in sight of the naked eye.

The head of this group of soldiers, shakes while pointing his gun. Seems like he has never even fired a weapon in his whole existence. But who am I to judge, this is my first day as well.

"I MEAN IT!!! I WON'T HESITATE TO SHOOT YOU, YOU MONSTER!!" The soldier shivers with his demand.

Well, that wasn't very nice of him. Calling me a monster. I am just another man stuck in a series of unfortunate happenings. My grin turns into a chuckle, I speak.

"Oh! So your gonna shoot me huh..? Well, look here." I point to my wound, still openly draining life.

"See this..? Well, one of those guys back there decided that it would be interesting to shoot me. And as you can see, I didn't take kindly to that. I also don't take kindly to people who snatch me up, and drag me, out in THE MIDDLE OF FUCKING NOWHERE!!"

My words shoot coercion. Suddenly, I'm not so worried about getting shot again. I don't believe that they are going to shoot me.

"Now, I have had one Hell of a day. All I wanted to do is help, that's ALL I have ever wanted to do. I didn't even get to properly have an interview today because of this "God" character, who unfortunately has his fucking thumb up his ass trying to stop me. I ran into two siblings today that I didn't even know I had. And they weren't here to bring me to a family reunion either. Both tried to kill me, and they were almost successful."

Now I'm not usually one to complain, but for the first time, I actually see why people vent on other people. Letting out these things have given me a feeling of positive emotion. I've never even opened up to even my mother, simply because I knew she wouldn't care, but in this same situation, I'm certain that the soldiers don't give a fuck what words come out of my mouth. All they're thinking about is probably 'where the Hell is that backup?!?' or maybe they are amazed that I have wings and speak English. I don't know. I
don't care to know, I am in a positive state of mind from just venting. "Enoch gave me wings, but I have no idea how to use them. And you have

to believe me when I say that I was only trying to help that patient at the hospital. Enoch's blade was supposed to heal that guy, not kill him. And... and

you just called for backup... look, I get it. I am a threat to you, but in my own defense, my purpose is to help, and by you dragging me to wherever against my will... it upsets me. It upsets me that everyone is against me when

all a aim for is to improve and further mankind."

Exhausted, I fall to my knee. One of the soldiers lowers his weapon. "Captain! ... we should let him go... I really don't think that we

should

be meddling around in this "God" business." He says to the captain.

The captain turns to the soldier.

*BANG*

A shot is fired. The soldier falls to his death on the flat ground. A captain kills one of his own men right before my eyes... and he

called

me a monster. Turns out he wasn't afraid to shoot me... or maybe he is afraid to shoot me, but not his own people..? Really, it doesn't make sense. He is obviously not trying to help me, but he kills his own, ridding of his own numbers to keep me hindered.. Maybe he is trying to get me on his side, but that doesn't answer why he killed one of his men who was trying to let me go.

Now, the captain and the other soldier are pointing their weapon at each other. This opens up a new door for me.

I raised my weapon, and fired at the captain. Some six rounds or so, lift him in the air, then land him in the dirt. A dust cloud rises from his impact. He won't get up from that.

The last soldier is now pointing her weapon at me. I speak.

"L... Look lady, seriously, look around you. What do you expect to gain from killing a God..?" I throw my gun to my side.

The soldier, almost in tears of confusion and fear, she lowers her weapon. The breeze being the only aspect of sound, I break it.

"So... Military gal like yourself, you know how to drive..?" She nods in agreement.

"Oh, what a relief... I don't know how to drive so, well your going to give me a lift back into town, where you guys picked me up at... Okay?" I explain. She gives affirmation and walks to the front of the truck. I follow her.

She gets in the drivers seat and shuts the door.

"Now you are going to take me back into town. No funny business either. Just drive there and drop me off, then your free to explain whatever God-Awful story to your superiors. And just a reminder to keep you on track, I will not hesitate to cut off your fucking head if you trick me. It wouldn't be the first time I've had to do that. Understand..?" I clarify with her. She nods in a positive manner, then starts the truck.

I walk to the back of the truck. After I shut the door, I lay back down, not even caring to notice all the dead beside me. We move, I start to dose off.
IX.

My eyes roll to view the back of my skull. My eyelids, sewn completely shut. When I open, I am within feet of the secretary woman. Once again, she sits, minding her own, completely ignoring the fact that I am here. You would think that since I am her only patient, (that I know of...) she would pay more

attention to me when I am here. It has been only recently that she has started ignoring me. Perhaps something is on her mind.

"Wow, am I glad to see a familiar face. You wouldn't believe the day I've had..." I greet. I am rebounded with a smile. Then she holds up the key ring. I walk over and accept it eagerly.

"Ya know, I don't believe that I have ever gotten your name." I ask. She confiscates her smile. Followed, by a moment of silence. "Castle." She says in a monotone voice, completely sunk as if I were

nothing but a pest in this subconscious mess of my mind.

No offense taken, not from I. Simply because, after all the nonsense of this day, nothing could eliminate the positive feeling of resting. Lord knows that I need this, this rest, this relaxation, this fucking break from the day, this fucking... nap. Or maybe he doesn't.

"Brother! Please, we have much to discuss." That voice.

I recognize that voice from anywhere. But what the Hell is it doing here?!?

I turn, two people now stand next to my three subconscious doors.

Enoch, and Odin... my brothers. I break.

"YOU MOTHER FUCKER!!!! Do you have any idea what you have done to me?!?!?"

Enoch and Odin, both stunned and confused by my words. Enoch speaks. "Brother, yes. I have given you back the gift of flight!"

"Yes, you have given me wings. That, and a useless healing blade that breaks after a few whacks... Not to mention that it doesn't heal people. But, you fail to see that the military is out to get me right now, and it's only a matter of time befo-"

"Brother Virgil, I believe that we haven't been officially introduced since our confrontation. Since Our Maker diagnosed you with amnesia, I understand that you have no recollection of our past." Odin says with an interruption.

Now it is Odin that says the name "Virgil" in regards to myself. He also mentions amnesia. Now, I am familiar with amnesia, only in the fact that I have read about it back in school. You hit your head, or something similar, then your memory dies. There is no way of telling if you get it back or not. And in my case, I assume that I once was this "Virgil" character... and something has happened to me... ?!?

"What are you talking about...?" I ask. Enoch steps up. "Now, Virgil. I am about to enlighten to you..." "Alright Enoch. Speak, I'll hear you out."

"Alright, now if I am going too quick, just stop me. You, are an Archangel, created by Our Maker. You were created with the special ability to perform "Gheist". This ability enables the possessor to enter, and exit, a host at anytime. This also allows you to take the soul of the host, and exchange it with someone else. However, you cannot destroy any souls that truly belong to the host in which you have taken over. This should explain these "out of body" experiences you have. Also, when you are taken a leave from your host, the body heals at a rapid rate, but only when you have exited your host."

As Enoch explains, I follow, like a confused child who has just been born, and follows the first person it sees, only to be neglected in the end.
Only difference is that I am being accepted. He is building the jigsaw together, piece by piece, and here I am, just waiting for a conclusion.

"Our Maker has also given you a strained ability to stop time whenever you are outside of your host. It is limited to use only when you are outside a host, and you cannot possess a new host when this ability is in use."

The way Enoch is describing my powers makes it seem like he is reading a prescription use pamphlet. Although, it would've been nice to know about this time stopping ability. Hell, it would've been nice to know any of this stuff...

"Now, onto the issue at hand. You may find any of this hard to believe. After all, you lost your memory about the same time you crossed over to the human kingdom. You have grown accustomed to the ways of man, and by instinct, you want to change it. The whole reason you crossed over was because you questioned Our Maker's authority. You took the powers of Our Maker and, really none of us know how, but you crossed realms. You did it in the blink of an eye. You left your body in search of a host."

In my mind, I am imagining a world that I was told as a child. A world up in the clouds with angels and The Pearly Gates. Then I see myself. Ford Lott, an Archangel with divine powers, literally taking orders from "the man". The man being "Our Maker". Once again, I fail to see what Enoch is talking about, but he rants on. And I listen.

"You managed to seed yourself inside a young woman's womb. The woman, who happened to be a virgin at the time, gave birth to you. The woman, who had become mental over this, had kept it a secret from others. She thought it was a blessing from the Gods. But the host was all but empty. It had a soul. And not just your soul, but it's own as well. You failed to believe this, because in being born a human, you were more than just inside the host, you became the host. And when only an infant, the child was knocked on the ground by something. I am not all too sure about this, for it is coming straight from Our Maker, but the nasty fall had given you brain damage. You were knocked outside your body for the first time. And with this fall, the woman, who was your mother, thought you had died. You must have found your way back to the host somehow, then your mother left you in a basket outside a burial ground. And I think you have a pretty good idea what happens from there."

I can't believe it...

"Our Maker, has been looking for you ever since." This brings up many questions.

"So, why doesn't he just use his magical "God" powers, and stop me himself..?" I ask. I can only imagine that Our Maker, being Our Maker who made us who we were and so on, could spare time to stop me himself.

"Well, even Our Maker, has a maker. He follows law just as any of us. You were the first one who has both questioned and disobeyed this law. Our Maker believes that he has made a mistake by giving us all free-will, and now he is trying to un-do this fault before you do something that could change the way people think. He is not responsible for the people of this world. He did not create them. Our Maker has his role in humanity just like all of us. And you are aimed at changing this humanity. Our Maker thinks that you are going to turn mankind against us, simply by allowing people to evolve."

"Okay... but that doesn't explain the fact that I found out how to breathe underwater, that's not one of my "God-Given abilities". I am not teaching other people how to do this "Gheist" thing you talk about. So what if my mind got wiped. You would think that he would just forget about me since I am not this "Virgil" character anymore."

"And that's why it was so hard to find you." "... So, how did you find me..?"

"Well, we have an informant who tracks people that have paranormal abilities."

"Do I know this guy..?"
"His name is Edwa-"

*CRASH*

My eyes shoot open. Once again, I find myself unable to breathe. Me and the corpses of dead soldiers have slammed into the back wall of the truck.

The truck has stopped moving, and appears to be on its side. Trying to move, I find intense pain in both my wings, and my right leg. There is blood all over the place, looks like a splatter house, and I can't even tell if any of it is my blood, or the soldiers.

My assumption boils down to the gal driving, she has crashed. And I am not too sure what caused it. Perhaps the backup they had called earlier, was able to track us down. Or, maybe something positive happened, and she just fell asleep at the wheel. Anyhow, I cannot hear anything outside, so hopefully, I am by myself.

Crawling to the door, I pull myself up. After kicking it repeatedly, the door budges, then falls.

Stepping outside, it is obvious to me now. Not far from the road, she crashed into a tree. Although dark outside now, the atmosphere is familiar to me. It shouldn't be too long till I'm back in town, and if I turn my limp into a steady walk, it'll be even quicker.

I limp over to the front of the truck to examine the driver. She is dead. I assume that she just fell asleep on the wheel.

After getting a hold of my cuttooth, I start on my way, heading back to town, in hopes to reach Dr. Graff's office. I wish I knew how to fly, for this trip would be much easier.

I roll my eyes to the back of my head to see if I could talk to Enoch so he could help me fly, not realizing that my wings are probably too fucked up to even work.

The man sitting behind a desk in the back of my head leans back in his chair, then nods negatively.

Well, with my body full of adrenaline, I look forward towards the front end of the truck. I will walk down the direction of the road that the truck was heading. And just like everything else I've said, it will be easier said.. then done.
X.

I love a starry sky, one that is filled with a helplessness inside. A completely open space with nothing at the end. An infinite background. The lights in the sky. They keep the ground lit even in the most pitch black time of night. You know what they used to say back at the orphanage... right? Well, they would say, that if you look long enough at the sky, a God will fall from the Heavens in the form of a shooting star. But the star would always burn up before touching the ground, so the God would retreat back to the Heavens and wait for the next ride. They used to say that there was always a chance, just a small, small chance, that the God would actually make it down. And he would arrive and do only the greatest achievements, furthering people

to success, and to peace. But really, even after all that I have witnessed, I still don't believe it.

The cities lights make it almost impossible to see the nights sky. Nowadays, people are always awake, always doing something with their time. You truly cannot enjoy the nights sky, when you live in a city. And being out here, at the edge of town, you can look straight up. You can see the constellations, formed perfectly above you. For how big this world is, it is incredibly small. You can look at the constellations, knowing that someone else a few hundred miles away from you, is looking at the same constellation. We're just a rock in the sky, for all anyone really knows.

The way I see it, the worlds future sky will take the form of a wave, a beautiful current that will wash away all fear and regret. A world where everyone, everything is the same. People will rule the land, water, and air. And the best part about the future that I see, is that everyone will be free from greed and corporations, simply because there will be no need, no desire for it, for we will already have what we need, and what we want.

A sea of change is inevitable. If we, as a race of human beings, are to survive, we need change. And it is my duty as a human being.. No... as a God, to see this change into effect.

The sands fall like rain. Imagine changing the speed of a movie to fast forward. Now, there's a picture.

I have turned my limp into a walk. Still looking up at the sky, the stars start to fade out, showing a dark sky, dimmed by streetlights and cars. I have made it back into town.

The sands descend at a moderate pace, bringing the whole fast forward motion back, as if hitting the play button.

Dr. Graff's office is in sight now, only a few yards away. I make it to the door.

A deep breath releases, liberating all the stress of the present day. Dr. Graff will help make the dream, a reality. I pull on the door.

The door doesn't budge. I come to the realization that it is locked. Once again, I misjudge the time.

It's very fucking late... or early.

Now the way I see it, I got two options presented to I. Wait, or go home.

Here I am... bleeding out and suffering due to the past time... in the middle of the cold night, at my fucking destination no less, and now I have to wait till tomorrow.. So I go home now, don't I...?

Behind me I hear the screeching sound of a loose belt from a vehicle. The only reason I am familiar with that sound, is because I used to over-hear jocks at the old high school bitch about it. They would always tell this guy that he needed to fix it. But he never did, which makes me believe that the only thing wrong with having a loose
belt in your car, is the annoying, loud screeching noise.

I glance behind myself. A car, very similar to that of the jocks, has pulled up to the office. When he turns off the ignition, the loud piercing screech from the belt, goes away. The driver's door opens to reveal a man. When he gets out, he glances at I, then starts walking in my direction. His face becomes familiar.

Dr. Graff walks up to the door, pulling out his keys. At first, I don't think that he sees me. Quickly, I check to see that I am still attached to my body, but then, he speaks.

"Ford my boy! Come on in." He tells me, while opening the door. I nod to him, then we walk inside. He turns on a light, then we

head into his office. Then he sits down at his desk, and tells me to be seated. Sitting down, I spread my wings over the arms of the chair, then lean back against them. He speaks.

"Now then, Ford, I'll bet your curious about the situation aren't you..?" He asks, I nod slowly.

"I think that it's safe to say that you have been given a gift, Hell, you have been given a lot of gifts. However, I really couldn't care less."

As Dr. Graff speaks, a tone in his voice deepens to reveal a slightly professional, yet disturbing, new side of himself.

"I have invited you here to discuss your termination of employment."

Anxious and extremely confused, I speak up.

"WHAT?!?!?"

"Well Ford, you are being relieved of duty as of now. Your Maker has gotten everything he needs from you, and he wants you to move on. Understand?"

Dr. Graff's words are bouncing from side to side in my mind. I begin to ask why, only to be interrupted.

"Now I am sure you will find another job somewhere. You can continue to collect unemployment until you find full-time work. And since Enoch, and Odin have been terminated by yourself as well, you might be charged for their dismissal, but I'm not 100% on that... so, with that said, I think we are done here."

Dr. Graff stands up.

"Come on, I'll give you a lift home."

So many questions fly through my mind now. I start to speak, only to get interrupted once again.

"Look Ford, if you have any questions, just save them until we get in the car."

Extremely confused, I feel I have no choice but to follow.

What just happened...? Dr. Graff just said I was fired. He said it was from the orders of Our Maker..? This doesn't make any sense... What about all the things that he said before..? About my idea being probably the best he's ever heard..?

I turn my eyes to the man in my head. He looks up at me.

"...Yeah I got nothing."

We get into his car. My wings have a hard time compressing when shutting the door. When he starts the ignition, the loud screeching noise detonates as we get moving. For a moment, we are both silent. I explode.

"DR. Graff!! You surely cannot tell me everything that you just said without me being confused. I need a complete explanation, and I want it now!" I demand.

Dr. Graff gives a yawn.

"Yeah, that's about what I figured. Okay, so you went to our sub office to turn in an idea. The idea you came up with suggested that we,
as a human race, were to move on. Now, nothing is wrong with that idea, nothing, except that this is not your decision to make. I am an informant, sent down by my Maker to keep an eye out for people like yourself. When I got your letter, right at that moment, you were hired. I then send a proposal, your letter in this case, to my Maker for inspection. If approved, we do everything in our power to make it happen. If rejected however, you are then fired, your idea scratched, and the subject either has to be terminated, or watched closely. In your case, they wanted you terminated, they sent down an Archangel to get the job done, in your case, "Odin". But you in particular, you, happened to be the one infamous Archangel that rebelled against The Maker's Law. Upon realizing this, the Archangel "Enoch" was sent down to negotiate with you, to either capture, or terminate you. You resisted and fought back, killing both Archangels. When this happened, Your Maker decided to re-look your case, seeing that you are no longer the Archangel "Virgil", but this human being that goes by your name Ford, he decided to just have you closely watched instead of terminated. But I guess that the military had other ideas for you......

yeah I would keep an eye out for those guys. Our Makers do not have complete control over the military. But, like I said before, you can continue to collect your unemployment benefits, so long as you keep looking for work and such. My suggestion to yourself, don't piss off Our Makers. Understand..?"

I give off a nod in agreement, then we stop. We are just outside of my place. Dr. Graff speaks once more.

"Hey. Cheer up man. At least God is in a forgiving mood. And look, you're tired, I'm tired, I can tell you have had a fucked up day. You should go to sleep, but don't let something like this get to you. Remember when I said you are going somewhere with that idea..?" I nod, he continues.

"The future holds a place for you. Just give it some time."

I give a smile that holds appreciation towards Dr. Graff. Then I reach my right arm out positioning my hand for a handshake.

"Thank you." I say while shaking his hand. "You're welcome. Now get the fuck out of my car."

Dr. Graff give off an annoyed look towards me. I open the door and step out.

The screeching sound of Dr. Graff's car echoed as it drove away. Looking across the street, the neighbors singing the blues with his six string. Right beside him, an empty spot with a single drum. I

limp across the street and approach him. He stops playing, giving off a stunned look. I reach into my back pocked and pull out a wallet belonging to the wealthy man I murdered awhile back. I take out all the money inside, and drop it on the ground in front of him. I speak.

"My gratitude, it is given."

I turn around and start heading back to my place. Walking up the steps and approaching the door, I head inside. When I shut the door, a true sensation of relief runs through my body. I fall, down to my knees. Then to my chest. My eyes close.

I sleep.
Part 2: Spoken Language

Jack- So, you're pitching me this shit right before we have to leave? Dawn- Yes. I'm sorry, but I figured that it couldn't wait.

Jack- Look Dawn, we have the story of the century to write right now. I'm not going to just throw it away because you say you found something better. Now that freak outside has nothing to do with what is going on in London right now. I'm sure you could write about comic conventions at another time.

Dawn- But the man outside, he's not wearing a costume, and this isn't for a comic convention or anything like that. They say he is a God. Jack- ... well, God or no God, it doesn't look like he is really going anywhere. I have to leave to London. You can stay and write some cheap story about some freak of nature, or you can come with me. Dawn- ...Alright. Lets go.
I.

The gangs all here. In my head, mind you. A group of outcasts hanging out in my head. Odin chats with Castle. I interrupt.

"So, I kill Enoch, I receive the gift of flight. I kill Odin, I get the gift of...?"

Odin gives me a blank stare at first, then speaks. "One shouldn't wish to be showered with greed, Virgil."

"Please, call me Ford. And I'll have you know that when something is earned, it is not necessarily out of greed. I mean lets face it, I kicked your ass. Don't I get a gold star or something?"

Odin's eyes widen and his face starts to turn bright. He explodes. "EXILED!! I HAVE BEEN EXILED BY OUR MAKER!! Virgil... Ford... Whatever

you

wish to be called."

"Ford, if you please."

"Stop... I did not choose to become a part of this Hell. Had you not

fled

in the first place, I would still..."

I make a sarcastic pout face.

"Aww, does poor Odin the giant feel regret?" I chuckle. "You know, you don't need to live here in my head. First off, I didn't invite you here. Second, would it kill you to be more casual and less dramatic? Sure, I was just pulling your leg a second ago, but you're here now, so you should make the best of it. And third... well... never mind third. It just seems that I am

going to be back at square one, sitting on my ass collecting checks again. But I really thought that I could make a difference with this one."

Odin looks calm now.

"This one. Meaning being able to breath while underwater?"

I nod. "Yup. I thought that I had something with that. Something that could make a change in the world. But really, I am still just another toy in the hands of our maker. Speaking of which, what the Hell is his name? Our maker I mean?"

Odin gives off a confused look, then stares down at the ground.

"You know, we don't speak of his birth name, nor do I know what it is. He has never given us the grace of calling him by anything other than our maker. Perhaps one of our brothers can tell you what you need."

My eyes widen.

"If you and Enoch don't know what the name is, then who... wait, you

said

our brothers, like there is more than you guys?!?"

"But of course. They come in the thousands. For each one, our maker doesn't find them to be in his liking, they are replaced. You and I are no different."

I find this idea somewhat unsettling. The fact that our maker has an army at his disposal. Seems to me that this guy is no worse than the corrupt governments that wage war all the time. I don't feel like I am going to like this guy.

"I think that I have a new goal. I am going to find out what our maker calls himself. And after that, I think that I am going to succeed him."

Odin and Enoch both give me a widened stare. Enoch speaks.

"...Surely you... you cannot be serious."

I feel that Enoch has given me an opportunity to say something I feel I have waited my whole life to say, so here I go.

"I am serious, and don't call me Surely!"

I then bust out in a rage of laughter. Enoch and Odin give me even more of a strange look. "Oh come on you guys... You haven't watched the movie "Airplane"? I waited my whole life for somebody to tell me that so that I
could say that line. Go figure that the person who said it hasn't watched the movie. You guys are lame..."

Odin and Enoch begin to whisper to each other about something. I feel it to be unimportant so I walk away. I'm going to go attend a dream where at least I can joke with someone if the opportunity comes.

Odin speaks.

"Virgil... I mean Ford, I would like you to reconsider your proposal.

You

do not know what you are saying when you think about succession with our maker."

I laugh.

"You and Enoch were no problem at all. People succeed each other all the time, it is in the fucking history books. Cities dominating countries, anarchy. Ancient to modern mythology, it's all about succession. All I need to do is freshen my skills up a bit and I think that I could take on the whole army of brothers, sisters, and makers. If this guy wanted me dead, he should just killed me. You said earlier that I was the first to question his motives, well I may be an amnesiac, but I think that I am still in the mood. Now... are you guys with me?"

The room grows silent. A slight smile starts to appear on Enoch. "With you all the way, brother."

I turn to Odin. His face is still frozen at the idea.

"As am I." He says.

*CRASH*

One of the dream doors opened up. Now, walking towards us is the man in the back of my head.

"HOLD IT!" He speaks. "Are you out of you fucking mind?? This needs to stop, all of it. No more words, not another god damned word from any of you!"

I speak anyways. "Hey buddy, never seen you in here before." He points his finger at me. "Zip it!"He snaps.

Enoch, Odin, and I are speechless. The man in the back of my head looks like he is about to explode.

"I was quiet until now, but I can't take it anymore. Look, even if I have to keep you locked up in one of your dream doors, I wont let you get away with what you are trying to do. I think that this is a mistake at the very least, and I think that you should consider your options right now. I don't think that you should fight this guy, or even say that you are planning on succeeding him. I really think that this is a bad idea and you need to stop this before I need to do something drastic."

We are all quiet for a bit, after all, I think that this is the most I have ever heard this guy talk, my entire life of knowing him. After a bit, I decided to take his advice. I usually look towards him for advice and I think that now, since he is actually giving me advice, I should take it without question.

"Alright. You can relax, I am not going to do anything anymore. I think that I'll just go on collecting unemployment for a bit and go find a job, live the rest of my miserable life washing dishes or something."

Perhaps I can go to the store and get my fucking wings clipped off as well. I think that maybe I can go to the hospital too and visit the psyche ward for a bit. After all, I don't think that it is normal to have these voices in my head all the time. But then again... I don't think that the
hospital would be very happy to see me after my last incident... maybe, even though that guy flat lined in there, maybe they brought him back, but then again, I did stab him with a sword. There was blood all over the place before I left... I don't know.

The man in my head looked puzzled at my response. Looking at Enoch and Odin, they look puzzled too. Even Castle is giving me a weird look.

"What..? Do I got something on my face?"

My eyes open. I am awake now. There is light outside and I can hear the birds again. I can't even remember if it was dark outside when I went out. Oh yeah... I think it was actually. Looking around, I can see some money dropped on the ground in front of me. It looks like a lot... I heard voices outside earlier, something about the police. I am not sure what it was.

I attempt standing up. I don't think that I have slept long enough for my wounds to heal. Everything still feels as broken as it was before I got here. There is an annoying headache behind my eyes that makes me want to fall asleep again. Somehow though, I don't really feel all that tired. There is a sound other than birds I can hear outside. It sounds like a car, or two cars actually. Maybe multiple cars for that matter.

*KNOCK, KNOCK*

There is a knock on the front door. I wonder who it is this time. I have been getting a lot of visitors lately. Dr. Graff might be back to change his mind about something, maybe he is here to offer me a job at where he works. I could be his doorman, that's about all the experience I have on my resume at the moment.

I walk towards the door and take a peek through the sight. To my surprise, there is nobody there. The thought of coffee comes to mind. It sounds like a good first step to my day.

I turn around and stop. Right in front of me is somebody I don't know, in my house, just standing there like he is waiting for something. He looks male, wearing a vest without a shirt on underneath it, some jeans and boots.

"Can I help you?" I ask. He smiles back.

"You wouldn't happen to be Mr. Lott would you?" "Well that would depend on who's asking?"

"My name is Tarn, and if you are Mr. Lott, would you mind stepping outside with me for a bit?"

This eccentric guy standing in my house is asking me to step outside with him. I look to the man in the back of my head. He sits there at his desk and takes a sip of his coffee. Right, coffee.

"Sure thing Tarn. But first things first, I just woke up and I need a cup of Joe before I do anything else."

Tarn continues his smile. "Ah yes. The caffeine addiction. But of course, may I have a cup as well?"

"Yeah, sure." I nod.

I start towards the kitchen. I empty the coffee pot from the previous days worth and fill it with fresh tap. Then I take the old filter out and replace it, making sure to be careful not to double filter the brew. That tends to make the water overflow out the top, I will never make that mistake again. Next is the coffee, I prefer grounded Columbian for now. I add 3 tablespoons to the filter, shut it, and press brew... for those of you interested in how I make my coffee...

While the coffee is brewing, I attempt conversation. "So, Tarn is it? Do you have a last name to match?" Tarn holds onto his smile. "Nope, just Tarn."

"So, have you just been squatting in my home? Or, better yet, when, and how did you get in my house?"

Tarn's smile drops just slightly. "I knocked, nobody answered, so I let myself in."

"Wait a second, back up just a bit. You said that you don't have a last
name?" "No."

"Do you by chance know who our maker is?"

Tarn giggles. "But of course Mr. Lott. It is he who sent me here." I'm silent. This would explain everything. "Why did your maker send you here Tarn?" I ask.

Tarn has a death grip on that smile of his. "I was sent here to kill

you."

We are both silent now. I glance back at the pot of coffee, it's only half way done.

Tarn breaks the awkward silence. "I... I mean... not kill you, but take

you

back with me. Your host does have to die though, just as mine does too."

I decide that the coffee pot is good enough. Everyone knows that if you take it off before it is done dripping, the coffee becomes weak, but I don't care. I take the coffee pot and with all the strength I could muster up, I swing it at Tarn. The pot hits him square in the face and shatters, spraying molten hot coffee and glass all over my kitchen. Needless to say, Tarn's smile went away, and it was replaced with glass shards, blood, and burning black coffee.

Tarn is now on the ground making some of the weirdest sounds of agonizing pain I have ever heard. I think it is time to finish the job. I pull out my dagger and start hacking at his neck. To my surprise, his head falls off after a few swings. Now there is coffee, glass, blood, and a dead guy all over my kitchen. This whole house is a disaster. I turn on the stove top. Turn it on high and light some paper on fire. Then I start throwing the fire at different corners of my house.

It didn't even take a whole 5 minutes before my place was set ablaze. I thought about sitting there for awhile. I have never had to deal with pain caused from severe burns before, but then again, I never really played with fire all that much either. Watching the fire slowly spread, it hits me. The fire likes to latch onto whatever it can come into contact with. No, no it doesn't really. What the fuck is going on here? I watch as every little thing that meant anything to me catches ablaze. All of the little mementos of my life started to disappear one by one, and I didn't really care.

As I make my way outside, I notice all my neighbors watching. Some are on their phones calling someone in concern it looks like. The gangs all here. The drummer and the folksinger, little Ruby and her dog, the high school muscle jock, and old man Samuel. The police are here too. There isn't a fireman or a ambulance in sight, but other than that the gang is all here, staring in shock at a typical house fire. They are also looking at me too I guess... after all, I do look a bit different than the last time they saw me, you know, all beat up and stuff. Oh and the wings too I guess.

One of the police officers speak to me. "Mr. Lott, get on your knees and put you hands on your head."

I obey. Maybe some jail time will do me good. I haven't been nicest guy lately.

The officers now have their weapons drawn and pointed at me. They put me in handcuffs and bring me to my feet.

"Yeah, those wings are real, but one of them is broken and I need to go to a hospital to get it patched up. Do you guys know of any wing specialists I could see?" I say to the officers. They respond with their famous Miranda rights speech. You have the right to remain silent and all that bullshit. I mean, I don't really think that there is anyone that can look at my wings. Maybe a veterinarian who patches up bird wings or something like that, but I doubt that they are going to take me to a vet.

As they walk me to their car I take a glance back at my house. The flames are pretty high now, there is no way to save anything in the house.
The house is done for, and it appears that I am too. There is really nothing here for me left. Still, I think that it is somewhat funny how there is no fireman around trying to put out this fire right now.

The cops open the door and attempt to get me inside with my massive wings. It was easier to fit in Dr. Graff's car because I was sitting in the passenger seat. But with the police car, I had to manage fitting in the back. I couldn't sit up straight back there, so I just laid down on my chest. The police didn't even argue with me or try to get me to wear my seatbelt. If these cops get pulled over, I could get a fine. But I am pretty sure they are just taking me to jail.

I think this is going to be fun.
II.

Right... So, just when I think I may be out of a job, I am usually not mistaken. I can't think of any place better to be right now. I am at a police station but the feeling is the opposite of what I am used to. Usually if I am at the cops place, I am somewhat intimidated by the folks here in uniform.

They are very stern with me, and I usually don't want any trouble. Today is the latter. Either the police force has gotten rather nice to their customers, or they are perhaps intimidated by me. Everyone here is in fact staring at me, giving me those wide-eyed looks. You know, those looks that people give when they see a celebrity or someone who has a scarred up face. The people around here probably have never actually seen someone who has wings up close. More than likely, they are like me before my transformation. The average person doesn't have wings. That kind of stuff you only really see in comic books or church poems or something like that. No, not in real life.

They pushed my fingerprints onto paper. I have never been in any real legal trouble as of before now. The only real time I have even ever stepped foot in a place like this is when I went here on a school trip. All of the cops acted like drill sergeants and made me feel like pissing myself.

Today it is different. I feel like if I ask to leave politely, they wold probably let me without any fuss. I don't feel like doing that though, I think I will see what they have planned. Perhaps they brought me here for a reason other than arson.

They sit me down in a room at a table and then leave. The room doesn't have anything else in it except another couple of chairs and a one-sided window. The light is dim, which is nice considering I still haven't had any coffee.

A man walks in the door to the room. He is a middle-aged guy in a suit and tie wearing square glasses. He gives off the same look as the others, staring a confused look while slowly pulling out a chair. As he sits down, he starts to speak.

"Hello, Mr. Ford Lott." He pauses for a bit. I nod. "You probably haven't been told why you are here. Well, these events keep coming up around town and your name keeps appearing. Other things are happening and the people are blaming the man who has the wings of an angel."

The office is getting somewhat colder. "What kind of 'events' are you associating me with?"I speak.

"People are dying Mr. Lott. And I think that you know why. A group of people were cut up and a man was decapitated on ________ ave. Another man,

stabbed to death in park restroom not far from there. People have reported seeing a man with wings stab a recovering patient at the medical center yesterday. An entire military unit wiped out. And more recently, an unidentified male whom was in your home before you burned it down."

"How do you know about the guy in my house?" I ask.

"Look Ford, it doesn't take a genius to stop a house from burning down. Now, I don't really know who, or what, you are. But you are going to have to come clean about this."He says.

I guess that Karma's a bitch, so to speak. I don't know why I didn't prevent my actions before, or cover up my tracks, but now I have to face the music.

"Everyone who was killed, I did it in self-defense. Well, actually come to think about it, the guy in the bathroom was innocent. He was wearing a nice suit and mine was bloody from the fight before. I was on the way to an interview that I thought was going to be revolutionary for humanity believe it or not."

"I take it that the recovering patient was self-defense as well?"He says. I pause, kind of forgot about that guy I guess. "No, of course not. That guy was dying in his hospital bed and I was trying to heal him."
"Witness's say that you stabbed him to death with a sword. In no way, shape, or form, does something like that heal anything."

"On the contrary, it healed me. If you checked any records at the hospital, you would know that I was a patient there as well. An archangel by the name of Enoch stabbed me with his sword. I was in the hospital from wounds inflicted by another archangel named Odin. He was the decapitated man on _____ Ave, and the others found dead as well. Enoch healed me with his

sword, then challenged me to a dual. I accepted, and then defeated him. This is how I acquired my wings. A gift given to me by succession, although I have yet to use them. Actually, so far they have only really just got in my way.

One of them is broken. I was hoping actually that you could take me to a doctor that could fix it."

The man gives off a confused stare, but seems intrigued with my story. "Anyhow, I had thought that after destroying Enoch, I was gifted great powers. I now had the gift of flight, and I had acquired a supposedly sacred blade that heals whoever it stabbed. I was wrong. I figured that since I was at a hospital, it was a sign from the gods that I got this power. I would use my new power to cure the patients here at the hospital. But the first guy that I tried using the sword on died. It was the exact opposite of what I thought it would do. I felt completely revitalized when the sword was used on me, but when I used it on someone else, they died a most painful looking death."

We are both silent for a moment. The man looks as though he doesn't quite know what to think of what I just said. He breaks the silence. "Mr. Lott, it doesn't look good for you. You are going to be put on trial for murder. Now unless you can convince me why I shouldn't just kill you where you sit, I think that we are done here."

I now hold the confused look. "Now wait a second. Do you want to put me on trial, or do you want to kill me where I sit? The last thing you just spit out at me didn't make a damn bit of sense."

The man gets up from the chair. He now looks angry. "WHY DID YOU KILL THOSE SOLDIERS?" He yells.

"Calm down Mr. Good cop bad cop sir. I told you that it was self-defense. For all I knew, those guys were going to take me to Area 51 and dissect me. Those guys were crooked too. The Sargent was killing his own people. I didn't even have to defend myself from one of those guys because their leader was helping me out. Lucky for me, that gave me the opportunity take him out. I don't really know why the gal crashed the truck."

We both became silent again. I don't think that there is anything else to say. The man pulls out a pistol from a connected holster and points it at me. "I think that we are done here." He states in a calm, collected voice. "I guess so..." I respond. "Get ready to meet your maker."He says right before he

pulled the trigger.

*KPOW*

"About fucking time I meet that guy. We have a score to settle." I say.

But I don't think my body is muttering the words this time.

He's dead. I'm dead. Easy as that. The man wiped a tear from his face just before leaving the room. I am expecting a cleanup crew but it is just me and I left in the room. I could wait to see my maker or I could go. I guess I will leave as well.
III.

Opening the door, I would expect to see something that resembled a police office hallway. What I got made quite a difference with that. Stepping outside the door, I am not stepping on carpet anymore, but a dirt floor. I am outside, but not outside of a police station. It looks like a desert, complete with random flatlands and hills, tumbleweeds included among other weeds. No cactus around though. But in front of I is a rather large hut.

Walking towards the hut, I feel determined that this is the spot. This is the place that it all ends. I will meet my maker and we will settle this. Settle every difference that we have. It took a lot to get here and I am not leaving empty-handed. I walk through the entrance. It is dark.

"... Hello? Who's there." A voice from inside the hut. A lamp becomes lit. There is a chuckle. "And God said, "let there be light," right?" a man says. But from the looks of it, he doesn't really look all that old. He climbs out of bed and places the lamp on a desk. He hits a light switch and the whole hut becomes lit. Now being able to see, it is a circular hut with a table directly in the middle. There is a cork board hanging above it with random postcards, pictures and notes attached. Throughout the hut including the table, there were scattered papers and trash. There was a futon mattress lying on the ground where the man stood up from, and a roll-top desk with a computer monitor and some books placed on it.

"Are you our maker?" I ask. He smiles. "You could call me that, "Our Maker"so to speak. Come have a seat so we can finally speak."

I listen, and walk further into the hut. There is a conveniently placed chair next to his at his desk. I take a seat. Upon sitting down, I notice that there is something different. I don't have my wings anymore. Perhaps I had left them on my host. Come to think about it, I never had wings when I was out of my body. Nothing really wrong with that. They were more of a burden anyways.

"Ford, before we begin, I would like to apologize for any inconveniences I may have caused while trying to get you here. I know that you might be confused and at a loss of knowing really anything that is going on here. I will hope that our meeting will resolve any conflicts you may have."

I listen, but I can't help myself. "What is your name?" I ask. The man smiles. "Mikell. Mikell Gentry, or Benjamin, depending on whether I changed my name or not before releasing this."

I now know the name of Our Maker. Mikell, pronounced "Me-Kell".

I pause for a moment. "What..? Before releasing what?" Mikell gets up and starts walking around the hut. "You know what? I don't really know what it is. One thing that I do know, is that it is a piece of fiction. But I don't really know what type of fiction it is, or what I should label it. I can't really imagine what genre it is."

"What are you talking about? Some kind of story you are writing?" I

say.

He stops, looks at me. "I started it very simple. I had one of those little memo books that you can buy at gas stations and convenient stores. As a matter a fact, I think I bought it at a gas station. Anyways, I thought that I could have something to jot down ideas for poetry, you know, write down things that are inspiring. I started writing down all my random thoughts that came to mind. Started off with the word "Break." Then I add things that would come with this word, like the word "it", forming the sentence "Break it." Actually, I think that I was listening to Andrew Bird on his latest album at the time. I was feeding my inspiration with all the things surrounding me, you know, just to help fuel my creativity. The dodo's are your neighbors for christ sake. Now, I thought that writing the first things that come to mind would be somewhat productive. My random words turned into
thought. But it wasn't my own thoughts, it was someone else's. Suddenly, there was action in these words. Someone started to move and form into shape and personality. My random word memo started to form a story of sorts. It started to have thoughts of its own. I could sit there and watch TV or something, then afterward I would have something new to read. But this character in the story, he started to become too powerful. He started taking over the story. The next thing that I knew, I wasn't even writing the fucking story anymore. It was writing itself... by the time I got back into control of

the writing, I threw in a nice cheesy ending that I thought would suffice... but no. The story wasn't ending. It started up a part 2. Everything was coming out at random. It looked like it was starting to form some other plot, one that didn't make any sense. And then you showed up again."

I stop to ponder the thought that he is referencing myself into this story of his. When he said 'and then you showed up again'. It is like I was the one that came into the picture and started to fuck things up for this guys story. But, why would he think that I am in this little story of his? If he is the one indeed writing the story, why would he think that I would have anything to do with it?

He gets up and looks around. Then he grabs a sheet of paper. Upon showing me the sheet I notice something. Every thought that I have is being written on this sheet of paper. Every thought that I have is being written on this sheet of paper. Every thought that I have is being written. The more I think about it the more words come out.

He rips the paper away from my view. "You see what is going on here right now, don't you?"

I feel a little feint. Leaning back in my chair. He speaks, "Every thing you were thinking was being written down. Every thought that you have been thinking is written down on all these papers. What I am saying right now is being written down on this fucking paper. Every fucking word. Every word of our conversation since you have arrived, every thought, everything. From the moment that you broke the glass. DON'T YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND WHAT IS GOING ON?"

We look at each other. It is like he is looking into my soul and expecting some answer that he already knows to come out of my mouth like some spoken word. English language, my fluent tongue. And then, when I start to think about it, there comes a smile. My smile starts to slowly show my sharpened grin and my voice escapes me, but not how I expected it to.

I start to laugh. Mikell sees this and starts a chuckle of his own. "Funny... you think that this is funny huh?"

We start laughing hysterically for what felt like too long, however long that could be...

From the sand to the sea. The hand rises from each to drag you onto their own version of Hell. Problem is that there is more than one of you.

Our laughing doesn't stop. We laugh endlessly. And why should it be the end? Someone that laughs with their creator should never stop laughing. Never... Stop... Laugh...

I wish I could say that this blissful moment in my life lasted forever, it sure felt like it did. I don't think I have ever laughed so hard in my short life. The problem was, I didn't know what I was laughing at, and I'm not sure he knew why either. Sometimes you just have to let out a laugh, no matter how long it takes for you to stop. I got tired of laughing.

I don't know where I got this gun from but it was in my hand. The laughing stopped when I shot Mikell in the forehead, right between the eyes. He stopped laughing immediately. He collapsed backwards into a bulletin board and sat still afterwards. Blood wasn't coming out of his head. There was just a bullet hole, so I shot again.
*PKOW*

I fired the entire clip from the pistol I was holding. Some bullets hit his face, some hit his arms, legs, torso... but still no blood. He wasn't moving anymore, that was okay with me.

Looking behind him, I found the paper he took from me. I looked at it for a bit without really thinking and set it back down. I didn't know where to go from here. I couldn't shoot myself, I wasted all the ammo on our maker. Nothing to do now but leave. There is nothing else here for me, and my purpose is still the same. All of a sudden, all of the questions that I had for the maker start to come back to me. Except, I killed him... I think.

But if I killed him, I should have gained his abilities. Something

should have clicked for me. Nothing is there. I look at my hands. Nothing.

Nothing there.

No hands.

No body.

Nothing.

I try to close my eyes. I can't blink. I don't breathe. I can't speak. No mouth for me. Nothing there.

This is fucking ridiculous. Where does one go from here. Is this what it feels like to be fully ascended. Am I at the top now?

"Should've stuck with just writing little memo books for the rest of my life. Who am I kidding? Nobody wants to read this shit... I don't even want to

read it. But here I am still writing. And here you are, still reading. Sitting there as if I had never took that paper from you. Powerful isn't it? I should have written something like blood the color of rainbows or green blood came out of me when you shot me. But that is just it, I couldn't think of it at the time. Sure, I could go back and edit it, but what's the fun in that? I made it with no blood. Probably because I can't stand to see blood coming out of myself. It makes me faint. I got a panic disorder you know. Or maybe you didn't know that... I don't know. You see, the thing is that when I write it comes out a lot like how I speak. I can't talk very good. Someone could be talking to me about something perhaps I am familiar with. Maybe I give off the impression that I know how to speak, until the conversation shifts gears. Things that come naturally to people in social situations actually come to me very difficultly. And here I thought that difficultly wasn't even a real word. The little red squiggly line didn't form underneath it, but I was sure it was wrong. I right clicked it and tried to look it up, sure enough... Anyhow, they think I have autism spectrum disorder. I got an ADOS and turns out I am autistic. Probably one of the reasons I am so stubborn when it comes to writing things down and changing them. I will leave things unedited for that reason. I do not give a fuck about the reader in that sense. Sorry, but that's the bottom line. If it is too annoying, feel free to read something else... anything else but this shit. Go ahead and read some real author's story. Go ahead."
IV...

I look up from the paper. My body rises and Ford reaches out for a handshake. The hands shake in slow motion for me. My body walks out of the tent. Mikell goes back and sits down. He tries to pick up a coffee cup but it slips. His hands attempt to reverse this action but fail. The coffee cup breaks on the ground. Mikell starts spitting out obscenities left and right before grabbing a nearby rag to clean it up.

Well, that's it. I have nothing else to write in this extremely stretched freak show of a book. Did you like it? I didn't... this thing. It took me 7 years to write this thing. It first appeared in the form of an abstract writing in one of those tiny memo books. I squeezed the whole part 1 inside. Then I thought it would be cool to stretch it out a bit, while trying to keep some of its abstract nature. The book is a complete mess from start to finish, but I don't have the heart to fix it. I feel like if I did decide to make it proper, I would have to write something completely different. This writing is kind of my child in writing, written to be a short story in a 3 part book called Zombie-Free America. It would start out with Spoken Word(this book), Zombie-Free America, and The SSS(Santa Slave Society). It was a childish vision of me expecting to grow from this into an author who could write to entertain. Maybe I write a bunch of stories, they kick off a career for me and I would go from there. My main problem is that I can't see the future. Seriously, I could die tomorrow, who knows... fact is that this isa project I refused to finish.

It's finished now. I can't keep putting time into this thing that is going to go nowhere. The thoughts when writing it were completely off the top of my head. This is where I would go when I had writer's block. The twists and turns were a part of that. I would reference things past and present and thus it wouldn't make sense. There is a story in there somewhere and you kind of have to torture yourself to find it. Personally, I like that aspect of it. Nobody would buy this thing if I tried to sell it. Perhaps an English class would use it to reference what not to do when writing a novel. I am half tempted to ship it to some publishers to see the reaction. Speaking of classes, I took writing classes while writing this. Academic writing will ruin you as an author. It reprograms every personal touch you ever had. Also, everything you read of yours will look worse. Every time I read the things that I wrote before the class, I end up feeling almost embarrassed that I wrote it. I had to spend time actually not writing to get some of my personal touch back. You go into writing classes thinking you can look back at all your stuff and make it better. While true, you lose a very important element in my opinion. Now I just take what I learned and chuck most of it out the window, because it isn't how I think. I like writing how I think.

enough rambling. Go read something else...
