Be safe this Halloween!
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Friday, October 26, 2007
"Hunter of the Dead" -- Vikings vs Zombies!!!
Today's post comes once more from the webpages of If - E - Zine(tm) Issue Number 9. I offer you the first two pages of "Hunter of the Dead" in which Urdgar, a Viking, finds himself suddenly thrust into a zombie-filled apocalyptic world! This is part one of two. Watch for part two next Friday! Enjoy!
“Hunter of the Dead”
© 2007 by Charles Shaver. All rights reserved.
“It was a time of Vikings. The bitter breath of Frost Giants bedeviled the landscape. On the horizon came the shambling hordes of the dead.”
- From the Tales of Ugarth
A quiet snow fell upon the small collection of huts. Haffdann and Ovbjorn, dressed in furs, busily loaded provisions onto the longboat.
“Ya think Ordak will be out soon?” Ovbjorn’s baritone boomed even as a whisper.
“Give him way,” Haffdann said. “His wife has taken ill. Let him tend to her. We can load this alone.”
“We need more hands. Our men number too few. We’ve not even enough men for the oars.”
“With this air? Feel it. A storm comes and Thor rides with it just beyond our range. We’ll not need oars so long as our hempsails hold.”
A figure exited a small hut some distance away.
“Quiet,” said Haffdann. “Ordak comes now.”
Ordak was a tall man, though not taller than the hardy lot of men he called upon for heritage. The snow packed, crunching beneath his massive feet. His mane was long, brown and like a bear’s. Where man ended draped furs began was unclear. His eyes were emeralds and his skin pale leathers. He showed some youth, though the girth of age was filling him at the waist and cheek.
His voice was like a wolf’s, husky and growling. “What’s the wind tell you, Haffdann?”
“Our viking will be met by Thor.”
“We ride with Thor,” Ordak repeated.
“How’s your woman?” Haffdann asked softly.
Ordak eyed him but said nothing.
More figures moved through the shadows of night. At first three, then ten. Ovbjorn saw them first.
“Ya think our lousy oarsmen are comin’ to help?” he asked.
“Maybe Sigurd drank them stupid and has convinced them all to an early start,” Ovbjorn said. Ordak and Haffdann laughed.
A scream came to them as a banshee’s wail in the night.
“Fredierike!” Ordak yelled compulsively. His muscles tensed, launching him from the longboat and onto the soft snowy sands of the shore. His thick thighs contracted and stretched. He ran towards his hut, Ovbjorn and Haffdann trailing behind.
Another scream, this time from another hut and male. Ordak slowed in confusion before pressing on towards his woman.
He called for his wife once more. More screams filled the night.
“Raiders!” called Ovbjorn, but Ordak was as a hawk. No shape, no form, no shadow filled his vision. Only thoughts of his woman remained. His feet dug at the snow. His muscles churned. Death was on the air, in his nose as his world went red with horror and rage.
He plowed into the hut. There he found three men naked and pale as if with illness tearing flesh from his crying, dying mate. She screamed with frenzy and fear.
He paused in horror, cursed, “By the gods!”, then his muscles rippled beneath flesh, springing him through the air. He snatched one of the pale offenders tight by the head with both hands. One hand came away full of wispy, dry hair. Unthinking, he cocked his enemy’s head back with his still clutching hand and delivered a heavy blow with his fist, hair still in his hand. The man’s jaw broke with a snap and Ordak pushed him away.
The other two pale men looked up, blood spilling and spraying from their mouths. Their eyes were pure yellow with mad black tentacles spearing towards a pupilless center. Their flesh hung loosely from their bodies.
“By the gods,” Ordak cursed once more under his breath. “By what madness hast thou spawned?”
They were on him, each grabbing an arm. Dirty, gray nails dug into his forearm. Ordak whipped about until one fell crashing away. Ordak grabbed the other by the chin and forehead, twisting until its neck popped once, twice, thrice before throwing the creature against a wall of the hut.
Ordak stood over his bloody wife. Crimson bubbles gurgled from her mouth and an open wound at her neck. Her breath wheezed once, twice then faded. Ordak felt some sense of her hover in the air nearby. When the feeling faded, something faded from Ordak’s own heart.
A small shuffling of feet whipped Ordak’s head round. The three inhuman yet human-looking creatures were moving to stand once more.
“How is this possible?” Ordak cried. He leapt from bedside to the fire beside which lay his hatchet. He it up and it slipped into a position of comfort on its own as he yelled, “I’ll rend you with my steel!”
He became a dervish of bladed wind, a wintry whorl of biting death. The hatchet, spinning, lopped off a piece of one creature’s skull. It kept coming after Ordak.
Ordak screamed, swinging, cleaving off the arm of another. It kept coming.
Changing tactics, Ordak swung low to cut the leg off the third creature at the knee. It toppled and had to crawl using it’s hand and one remaining leg, but it kept coming.
With a lifting boot, Ordak kicked at the legless one and sent it flying into a wall. The hut shook with the clangor and blast.
Each time Ordak swung he hit.
The creatures barely bled, screamed none and kept coming.
“Demon spawns of Hel!” Ordak screamed and chopped, chopped and screamed until only bits and pieces of fleshy-splattered ichor covered the walls and the floor of the hut.
Watch for Part Two next Friday!
“Hunter of the Dead”
© 2007 by Charles Shaver. All rights reserved.
“It was a time of Vikings. The bitter breath of Frost Giants bedeviled the landscape. On the horizon came the shambling hordes of the dead.”
- From the Tales of Ugarth
A quiet snow fell upon the small collection of huts. Haffdann and Ovbjorn, dressed in furs, busily loaded provisions onto the longboat.
“Ya think Ordak will be out soon?” Ovbjorn’s baritone boomed even as a whisper.
“Give him way,” Haffdann said. “His wife has taken ill. Let him tend to her. We can load this alone.”
“We need more hands. Our men number too few. We’ve not even enough men for the oars.”
“With this air? Feel it. A storm comes and Thor rides with it just beyond our range. We’ll not need oars so long as our hempsails hold.”
A figure exited a small hut some distance away.
“Quiet,” said Haffdann. “Ordak comes now.”
Ordak was a tall man, though not taller than the hardy lot of men he called upon for heritage. The snow packed, crunching beneath his massive feet. His mane was long, brown and like a bear’s. Where man ended draped furs began was unclear. His eyes were emeralds and his skin pale leathers. He showed some youth, though the girth of age was filling him at the waist and cheek.
His voice was like a wolf’s, husky and growling. “What’s the wind tell you, Haffdann?”
“Our viking will be met by Thor.”
“We ride with Thor,” Ordak repeated.
“How’s your woman?” Haffdann asked softly.
Ordak eyed him but said nothing.
More figures moved through the shadows of night. At first three, then ten. Ovbjorn saw them first.
“Ya think our lousy oarsmen are comin’ to help?” he asked.
“Maybe Sigurd drank them stupid and has convinced them all to an early start,” Ovbjorn said. Ordak and Haffdann laughed.
A scream came to them as a banshee’s wail in the night.
“Fredierike!” Ordak yelled compulsively. His muscles tensed, launching him from the longboat and onto the soft snowy sands of the shore. His thick thighs contracted and stretched. He ran towards his hut, Ovbjorn and Haffdann trailing behind.
Another scream, this time from another hut and male. Ordak slowed in confusion before pressing on towards his woman.
He called for his wife once more. More screams filled the night.
“Raiders!” called Ovbjorn, but Ordak was as a hawk. No shape, no form, no shadow filled his vision. Only thoughts of his woman remained. His feet dug at the snow. His muscles churned. Death was on the air, in his nose as his world went red with horror and rage.
He plowed into the hut. There he found three men naked and pale as if with illness tearing flesh from his crying, dying mate. She screamed with frenzy and fear.
He paused in horror, cursed, “By the gods!”, then his muscles rippled beneath flesh, springing him through the air. He snatched one of the pale offenders tight by the head with both hands. One hand came away full of wispy, dry hair. Unthinking, he cocked his enemy’s head back with his still clutching hand and delivered a heavy blow with his fist, hair still in his hand. The man’s jaw broke with a snap and Ordak pushed him away.
The other two pale men looked up, blood spilling and spraying from their mouths. Their eyes were pure yellow with mad black tentacles spearing towards a pupilless center. Their flesh hung loosely from their bodies.
“By the gods,” Ordak cursed once more under his breath. “By what madness hast thou spawned?”
They were on him, each grabbing an arm. Dirty, gray nails dug into his forearm. Ordak whipped about until one fell crashing away. Ordak grabbed the other by the chin and forehead, twisting until its neck popped once, twice, thrice before throwing the creature against a wall of the hut.
Ordak stood over his bloody wife. Crimson bubbles gurgled from her mouth and an open wound at her neck. Her breath wheezed once, twice then faded. Ordak felt some sense of her hover in the air nearby. When the feeling faded, something faded from Ordak’s own heart.
A small shuffling of feet whipped Ordak’s head round. The three inhuman yet human-looking creatures were moving to stand once more.
“How is this possible?” Ordak cried. He leapt from bedside to the fire beside which lay his hatchet. He it up and it slipped into a position of comfort on its own as he yelled, “I’ll rend you with my steel!”
He became a dervish of bladed wind, a wintry whorl of biting death. The hatchet, spinning, lopped off a piece of one creature’s skull. It kept coming after Ordak.
Ordak screamed, swinging, cleaving off the arm of another. It kept coming.
Changing tactics, Ordak swung low to cut the leg off the third creature at the knee. It toppled and had to crawl using it’s hand and one remaining leg, but it kept coming.
With a lifting boot, Ordak kicked at the legless one and sent it flying into a wall. The hut shook with the clangor and blast.
Each time Ordak swung he hit.
The creatures barely bled, screamed none and kept coming.
“Demon spawns of Hel!” Ordak screamed and chopped, chopped and screamed until only bits and pieces of fleshy-splattered ichor covered the walls and the floor of the hut.
Watch for Part Two next Friday!
Monday, October 22, 2007
GHOSTS! - In time for Halloween, Resurrection Mary from Unsolved Mysteries
A special bonus post today, I bring to you a short video from the TV series Unsolved Mysteries that chronicles the tale of Resurrection Mary. Enjoy!
Unsolved Mysteries - Resurrection Mary
Add to My Profile | More Videos
REFERENCES:
Unsolved Mysteries
Resurrestion Mary on Wiki
Unsolved Mysteries - Resurrection Mary
Add to My Profile | More Videos
REFERENCES:
Unsolved Mysteries
Resurrestion Mary on Wiki
Friday, October 19, 2007
"A Bit of Chocolate" - Complete Full Short Story!
Today's post is once more from If - E - Zine(tm) Issue Number 9, this year's Special Halloween Edition. This is the full short story. Enjoy!
“A Bit of Chocolate”
© 2007 by Charles Shaver. All rights reserved.
The small bit of chocolate was a perfect sphere wrapped in foil. Donal held it lightly between his finger and thumb, rolling it so as not to apply too much of his body’s heat to any one point and melt the contents.
The chocolate became a star became a world drifting in darkness. Donal sat at the port of a spacecraft, watching.
“Donal,” the voice was mechanically filtered. “Donal. Stop daydreaming. Get to work.”
Donal heard nothing.
In another part of the ship Captain Barris and his first mate, Evelyn Trudeau, watched Donal through security monitors.
“He’s gone again,” said Trudeau.
“For crying out loud,” Captain Barris exhaled in defeat.
“It’s not Donal’s fault. The space sensitive are subject to Space Fever.”
“I know, I know.” Captain Barris depressed a button and spoke through the comlink again. “Donal. Donal. Stop daydreaming, Donal. Donal? Are you with us?”
* * * * *
Captain Barris and Trudeau were floating in a meeting room of a space station with Dr. Iizuka.
“It’s not Donal’s fault,” said Dr. Iizuka. “Some level of stress is bound to affect everyone that comes into space. Even you, Barris. Your levels of excitement and enthusiasm, though typically not viewed as traditional stress, releases chemicals into your body that elevates your heart rate, your blood pressure, your breathing rate, a lot of things. Prolonged exposure to such elevated levels of stress will cause a certain level of wear. Endurance and metal adaptability is key to space existence.
“We try to get people who basically view space travel as a job. There’s no excitement to that which is viewed as routine, no stress. The people we look for are those that see space travel as just another day. The problem is that still relatively few people have actually ventured into space.”
“If I’ve such high levels of excitement and stress, then why keep me around?” Captain Barris asked.
“Because you’re good as a leader and perform consistently in high-stress situations. You have a good deal of endurance and adaptability.”
“What about Donal?” Trudeau asked.
“He’s just another one that couldn’t take deep space.”
“But he did well enough getting to the station.”
“Yes, but here at the station though we may be floating about in weightlessness we are still under the influence of the earth’s gravity, we are still subject in small, subtle ways to our home planet. Here we are in orbit and still attached by an unseen umbilical cord.
“But out there, in deep space, the connection diminishes. We’re all as children taking its first steps: shaky and nervous and capable of falling flat on our faces.
“Again, it’s not Donal’s fault.”
“But he’s the third mathematician that’s gone off on us like this,” Captain Barris said. “And the seventh crew member in total. There has to be a fault somewhere and I’m beginning to think it’s not all physiological.”
“How do you mean?” asked Dr. Iizuka.
“If more than one person is experiencing problems, than its cause is likely to be some common aspect of our humanity. We may each have different backgrounds but we all go through the same rigorous training which means our training is in some way deficient in that its not catching and filtering out whatever is causing us problems once we get into deep space. Our training is not screening for something.”
“But what?” asked Trudeau. “We go through some of the toughest training on earth and in space.”
“It has to be something we don’t yet know about,” Captain Barris answered.
“From what Donal told me he was having trouble identifying an object he was looking at. I think he might have been hallucinating. He says he doesn’t remember you calling to him. He was essentially catatonic which leads me to believe he may be suffering from some sort of schizoaffective disorder. In fact, all of the people that have suffered from ‘Space Fever’ have displayed similar symptoms.”
“Why doesn’t our training screen for such a thing?” asked Trudeau.
“It’s not that easy. While all the elements may be preset within a person, there must be a triggering event for the disorder to manifest itself.”
“The triggering event is then somewhere within the deep space screening,” suggested Trudeau.
“It would seem,” confirmed Dr. Iizuka.
“So it could be physiological, after all?” asked Captain Barris.
“It could be a lot of things,” Dr. Iizuka said.
“What I was getting at earlier,” said Captain Barris, “is that it could be something within our society. Something so obvious that we’ve not thought about it.
“It’s been nearly a century since the first manned space flight. And just now we’re gathering a team for Mars. Why would it take so long for us to be reaching out to our neighbor? Technology doesn’t develop that slowly unless it’s stifled with a lack of interest or funding. The private sector didn’t get involved until cash prizes were involved, then the private sector even spent more money than the prizes were worth.
“That only suggests money wasn’t a motivator. That leaves a lack of interest. Humanity simply isn’t interested in space exploration or advancing itself.
“Dr. Iizuka, you mentioned an ‘unseen umbilical’. Maybe you weren’t far off. Maybe when we feel gravity slip from us we snap, pardon the expression. We’re all birds leaving the nest. Some fly, others fall and die.”
“That’s quite a bit of speculation,” said Trudeau.
“Maybe,’ said Dr. Iizuka, “but we have to entertain every idea until we come up with solid evidence.”
Captain Barris shook his head. “They’re so damned concerned about the politics of the day. I’m glad we’re up here and away from it all.”
“Is that why you became an astronaut, Captain?” Dr. Iizuka asked.
“Actually,” Captain Barris stammered a bit before he decided to be honest, “Yeah.”
* * * * *
Captain Barris rolled his eyes in boredom.
“Seems we’ve lost another one,” Trudeau said.
He watched as another prospective astronaut lolled his head about, unresponsive. Captain Barris closed his eyes. His eyelids exploded with a field of colors before his pupils. Blues and greens and reds swirled themselves into tiny spots before his eyes. For a moment he thought they looked like small foil-wrapped chocolates.
“A Bit of Chocolate”
© 2007 by Charles Shaver. All rights reserved.
The small bit of chocolate was a perfect sphere wrapped in foil. Donal held it lightly between his finger and thumb, rolling it so as not to apply too much of his body’s heat to any one point and melt the contents.
The chocolate became a star became a world drifting in darkness. Donal sat at the port of a spacecraft, watching.
“Donal,” the voice was mechanically filtered. “Donal. Stop daydreaming. Get to work.”
Donal heard nothing.
In another part of the ship Captain Barris and his first mate, Evelyn Trudeau, watched Donal through security monitors.
“He’s gone again,” said Trudeau.
“For crying out loud,” Captain Barris exhaled in defeat.
“It’s not Donal’s fault. The space sensitive are subject to Space Fever.”
“I know, I know.” Captain Barris depressed a button and spoke through the comlink again. “Donal. Donal. Stop daydreaming, Donal. Donal? Are you with us?”
* * * * *
Captain Barris and Trudeau were floating in a meeting room of a space station with Dr. Iizuka.
“It’s not Donal’s fault,” said Dr. Iizuka. “Some level of stress is bound to affect everyone that comes into space. Even you, Barris. Your levels of excitement and enthusiasm, though typically not viewed as traditional stress, releases chemicals into your body that elevates your heart rate, your blood pressure, your breathing rate, a lot of things. Prolonged exposure to such elevated levels of stress will cause a certain level of wear. Endurance and metal adaptability is key to space existence.
“We try to get people who basically view space travel as a job. There’s no excitement to that which is viewed as routine, no stress. The people we look for are those that see space travel as just another day. The problem is that still relatively few people have actually ventured into space.”
“If I’ve such high levels of excitement and stress, then why keep me around?” Captain Barris asked.
“Because you’re good as a leader and perform consistently in high-stress situations. You have a good deal of endurance and adaptability.”
“What about Donal?” Trudeau asked.
“He’s just another one that couldn’t take deep space.”
“But he did well enough getting to the station.”
“Yes, but here at the station though we may be floating about in weightlessness we are still under the influence of the earth’s gravity, we are still subject in small, subtle ways to our home planet. Here we are in orbit and still attached by an unseen umbilical cord.
“But out there, in deep space, the connection diminishes. We’re all as children taking its first steps: shaky and nervous and capable of falling flat on our faces.
“Again, it’s not Donal’s fault.”
“But he’s the third mathematician that’s gone off on us like this,” Captain Barris said. “And the seventh crew member in total. There has to be a fault somewhere and I’m beginning to think it’s not all physiological.”
“How do you mean?” asked Dr. Iizuka.
“If more than one person is experiencing problems, than its cause is likely to be some common aspect of our humanity. We may each have different backgrounds but we all go through the same rigorous training which means our training is in some way deficient in that its not catching and filtering out whatever is causing us problems once we get into deep space. Our training is not screening for something.”
“But what?” asked Trudeau. “We go through some of the toughest training on earth and in space.”
“It has to be something we don’t yet know about,” Captain Barris answered.
“From what Donal told me he was having trouble identifying an object he was looking at. I think he might have been hallucinating. He says he doesn’t remember you calling to him. He was essentially catatonic which leads me to believe he may be suffering from some sort of schizoaffective disorder. In fact, all of the people that have suffered from ‘Space Fever’ have displayed similar symptoms.”
“Why doesn’t our training screen for such a thing?” asked Trudeau.
“It’s not that easy. While all the elements may be preset within a person, there must be a triggering event for the disorder to manifest itself.”
“The triggering event is then somewhere within the deep space screening,” suggested Trudeau.
“It would seem,” confirmed Dr. Iizuka.
“So it could be physiological, after all?” asked Captain Barris.
“It could be a lot of things,” Dr. Iizuka said.
“What I was getting at earlier,” said Captain Barris, “is that it could be something within our society. Something so obvious that we’ve not thought about it.
“It’s been nearly a century since the first manned space flight. And just now we’re gathering a team for Mars. Why would it take so long for us to be reaching out to our neighbor? Technology doesn’t develop that slowly unless it’s stifled with a lack of interest or funding. The private sector didn’t get involved until cash prizes were involved, then the private sector even spent more money than the prizes were worth.
“That only suggests money wasn’t a motivator. That leaves a lack of interest. Humanity simply isn’t interested in space exploration or advancing itself.
“Dr. Iizuka, you mentioned an ‘unseen umbilical’. Maybe you weren’t far off. Maybe when we feel gravity slip from us we snap, pardon the expression. We’re all birds leaving the nest. Some fly, others fall and die.”
“That’s quite a bit of speculation,” said Trudeau.
“Maybe,’ said Dr. Iizuka, “but we have to entertain every idea until we come up with solid evidence.”
Captain Barris shook his head. “They’re so damned concerned about the politics of the day. I’m glad we’re up here and away from it all.”
“Is that why you became an astronaut, Captain?” Dr. Iizuka asked.
“Actually,” Captain Barris stammered a bit before he decided to be honest, “Yeah.”
* * * * *
Captain Barris rolled his eyes in boredom.
“Seems we’ve lost another one,” Trudeau said.
He watched as another prospective astronaut lolled his head about, unresponsive. Captain Barris closed his eyes. His eyelids exploded with a field of colors before his pupils. Blues and greens and reds swirled themselves into tiny spots before his eyes. For a moment he thought they looked like small foil-wrapped chocolates.
Friday, October 12, 2007
"A Touch of Rust" - Free Short Story
Hey folks,
I've been posting a lot lately. I've been working on that high you get after you've busted your butt for so many months on a project and finally completed it, in this case Issue Number 9 of the If - E - Zine(tm).
I appreciate all the comments and communications I've been sharing with many of you as of late. Feel free to keep them coming.
For today's post I offer the first two parts of "A Touch of Rust", one of the three free short stories found in If - E - Zine(tm) Issue Number 9, this year's Special Halloween Edition.
If you'd like to read the full story, you can find it at TheLordShen.com
Much love and respect,
~ charles, ed.-in-chief
“A Touch of Rust”
© 2007 by Charles Shaver. All rights reserved. No part of this story may be stored, copied or used without written prior permission from the author.
The world had turned to rust long ago. Few saw it happen, yet everyone felt it. Rust was simply too difficult to find in a city of concrete and plasma. The city was home to many things, but vegetation was not one of them.
Little Koji, however, knew of the one unique spot within the vast, sprawling city that held such rare life.
Koji exploded from the school, running through the asphalt playground into the arms of his waiting grandfather.
“Grampa! Grampa!”
“Heya, kiddo!”
They hugged.
“Are ya ready?” Grampa asked.
“Yeah!”
They were suddenly in a small, battered old truck speeding down the road, pressed on by zooming traffic and sounds of Shostakovich drowning out the world.
They passed through valleys of concrete wrapped in two-way plasma screens each stretching several stories high. From the inside they acted as windows, but from the street-valleys every building was a towering, mountainous billboard playing one channel or another, flashing some commercial or another.
They ignored the psychologically designed brilliantly flashing colors. Grampa drove, windows down despite the thick, heavy smog. Winds whipped at their hair. People stared at them from other vehicles, from behind closed glass.
Little Koji smiled at them all.
The old truck turned, diving underground, searching for a spot in which to park. Koji watched, counting row after row of vehicles. He thought they looked like sticks of gum packaged tightly, only their wrappings each different.
They found a place to park, slipped in and were off to the elevators.
Once again Koji watched, counting the floors as they passed on by. Up, up, ever up they went.
Koji spilled out of the elevator, his grandfather in tow, on the 132nd floor.
With the swipe of a card, a beep and a whoosh Grampa’s condo door burst wide.
Koji ran in, peeling off layers, spraying himself and his accessories everywhere. Here landed a jacket, there a backpack, as the little boy ran around furniture undaunted and heading for another door.
The door was made of glass and slid open. Koji could see his destination through the door as he drew near.
With a slide and a bang the door made way for the little boy. Koji came at last to stand center-stage of the big balcony, reaching high overhead to touch the golden leaves and bark of a tree all aglow with the fires of Autumn. The tree chattered at him with happy refrain, its leaves rustling on self-made winds.
* * * * *
Later that afternoon Koji and Grampa sat at a small table beneath the tree eating snack cakes and drinking apple juice.
“Grampa?” Koji kicked his feet.
“Kiddo?”
“Teacher says there’s not just one kinda tree in the world, but all different kinds!”
“That’s right.”
“What kind of tree is this one?”
“Oh, a glorious maple.”
“Glorious maple,” Koji repeated. “We read about maples in school.”
“Oh? What’d you read?”
“They’re called Acers and there’s even different kinds of maples!”
“That’s true. This one’s a sugar maple. Did you read about them?”
Koji shook his head.
“The western hall of the palace of one of the dragon gods is filled with sugar maples, all turning gold. Maples also keep bats away from your home.”
“Like vampires?”
Grampa smiled. “And vampires, too, I’m sure.”
“Grampa, why do trees change colors?”
“Well, not all trees change color, but maples do. Did you learn about chlorophyll?”
Koji nodded, smacking his lips over a small cake. “It’s what makes plants green.”
“That’s right, and when that chlorophyll breaks down in some plants, like in maples, the colors start to change.”
Koji snatched up another cake and drank his juice.
“Everyone needs a little rust in their lives, kiddo. It makes us old but… it makes us humble… a part of something bigger than ourselves.”
Koji kicked his feet. He smiled up at the tree. “I like comin’ here, Grampa.”
Laughing, Grampa said, “It’s just another place to live, kiddo. Just another box.”
“A box with a tree!”
Again Grampa laughed. “I like you comin’ here, too, kiddo.”
Koji gulped his juice.
Grampa smiled.
* * * * *
Read the rest of the story within the pages of If - E - Zine(tm) Issue Number 9 at TheLordShen.com!
I've been posting a lot lately. I've been working on that high you get after you've busted your butt for so many months on a project and finally completed it, in this case Issue Number 9 of the If - E - Zine(tm).
I appreciate all the comments and communications I've been sharing with many of you as of late. Feel free to keep them coming.
For today's post I offer the first two parts of "A Touch of Rust", one of the three free short stories found in If - E - Zine(tm) Issue Number 9, this year's Special Halloween Edition.
If you'd like to read the full story, you can find it at TheLordShen.com
Much love and respect,
~ charles, ed.-in-chief
“A Touch of Rust”
© 2007 by Charles Shaver. All rights reserved. No part of this story may be stored, copied or used without written prior permission from the author.
The world had turned to rust long ago. Few saw it happen, yet everyone felt it. Rust was simply too difficult to find in a city of concrete and plasma. The city was home to many things, but vegetation was not one of them.
Little Koji, however, knew of the one unique spot within the vast, sprawling city that held such rare life.
Koji exploded from the school, running through the asphalt playground into the arms of his waiting grandfather.
“Grampa! Grampa!”
“Heya, kiddo!”
They hugged.
“Are ya ready?” Grampa asked.
“Yeah!”
They were suddenly in a small, battered old truck speeding down the road, pressed on by zooming traffic and sounds of Shostakovich drowning out the world.
They passed through valleys of concrete wrapped in two-way plasma screens each stretching several stories high. From the inside they acted as windows, but from the street-valleys every building was a towering, mountainous billboard playing one channel or another, flashing some commercial or another.
They ignored the psychologically designed brilliantly flashing colors. Grampa drove, windows down despite the thick, heavy smog. Winds whipped at their hair. People stared at them from other vehicles, from behind closed glass.
Little Koji smiled at them all.
The old truck turned, diving underground, searching for a spot in which to park. Koji watched, counting row after row of vehicles. He thought they looked like sticks of gum packaged tightly, only their wrappings each different.
They found a place to park, slipped in and were off to the elevators.
Once again Koji watched, counting the floors as they passed on by. Up, up, ever up they went.
Koji spilled out of the elevator, his grandfather in tow, on the 132nd floor.
With the swipe of a card, a beep and a whoosh Grampa’s condo door burst wide.
Koji ran in, peeling off layers, spraying himself and his accessories everywhere. Here landed a jacket, there a backpack, as the little boy ran around furniture undaunted and heading for another door.
The door was made of glass and slid open. Koji could see his destination through the door as he drew near.
With a slide and a bang the door made way for the little boy. Koji came at last to stand center-stage of the big balcony, reaching high overhead to touch the golden leaves and bark of a tree all aglow with the fires of Autumn. The tree chattered at him with happy refrain, its leaves rustling on self-made winds.
* * * * *
Later that afternoon Koji and Grampa sat at a small table beneath the tree eating snack cakes and drinking apple juice.
“Grampa?” Koji kicked his feet.
“Kiddo?”
“Teacher says there’s not just one kinda tree in the world, but all different kinds!”
“That’s right.”
“What kind of tree is this one?”
“Oh, a glorious maple.”
“Glorious maple,” Koji repeated. “We read about maples in school.”
“Oh? What’d you read?”
“They’re called Acers and there’s even different kinds of maples!”
“That’s true. This one’s a sugar maple. Did you read about them?”
Koji shook his head.
“The western hall of the palace of one of the dragon gods is filled with sugar maples, all turning gold. Maples also keep bats away from your home.”
“Like vampires?”
Grampa smiled. “And vampires, too, I’m sure.”
“Grampa, why do trees change colors?”
“Well, not all trees change color, but maples do. Did you learn about chlorophyll?”
Koji nodded, smacking his lips over a small cake. “It’s what makes plants green.”
“That’s right, and when that chlorophyll breaks down in some plants, like in maples, the colors start to change.”
Koji snatched up another cake and drank his juice.
“Everyone needs a little rust in their lives, kiddo. It makes us old but… it makes us humble… a part of something bigger than ourselves.”
Koji kicked his feet. He smiled up at the tree. “I like comin’ here, Grampa.”
Laughing, Grampa said, “It’s just another place to live, kiddo. Just another box.”
“A box with a tree!”
Again Grampa laughed. “I like you comin’ here, too, kiddo.”
Koji gulped his juice.
Grampa smiled.
* * * * *
Read the rest of the story within the pages of If - E - Zine(tm) Issue Number 9 at TheLordShen.com!
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Old School Cartoon - banned in some parts!
This was one of the few cartoons Walt Disney personally animated. It is the first Silly Symphony.
Titled "The Skeleton Dance", it was released in 1929 and at the time garnered a lot of criticism. The criticism was, in part, due to the 'graphic' nature of the cartoon. Before you judge, put things into perspective a bit: this cartoon was, afterall, quite possibly the first time the public had really seen skeletons rising from the grave and dancing. That's quite a frightening prospect even today! But in 1929 it was unheard of and resulted in many theaters refusing to carry the cartoon. It was even reportedly banned in some parts of the world!
Today it is normally hailed as a masterpiece of early animation. In 1994 it was voted (by a panel consisting of 1000 people working in the animation field) as #18 of the 50 Greatest Cartoons of All Time.
Have a safe and happy Halloween.
The Skeleton Dance on Wikipedia
The Skeleton Dance at Big Cartoon Database
Titled "The Skeleton Dance", it was released in 1929 and at the time garnered a lot of criticism. The criticism was, in part, due to the 'graphic' nature of the cartoon. Before you judge, put things into perspective a bit: this cartoon was, afterall, quite possibly the first time the public had really seen skeletons rising from the grave and dancing. That's quite a frightening prospect even today! But in 1929 it was unheard of and resulted in many theaters refusing to carry the cartoon. It was even reportedly banned in some parts of the world!
Today it is normally hailed as a masterpiece of early animation. In 1994 it was voted (by a panel consisting of 1000 people working in the animation field) as #18 of the 50 Greatest Cartoons of All Time.
Have a safe and happy Halloween.
The Skeleton Dance on Wikipedia
The Skeleton Dance at Big Cartoon Database
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
How-To Halloween: Ideas to Help You Celebrate The Holiday
Here's some how-to videos with ideas to help you celebrate Halloween. Enjoy!
How-To Halloween Spooktacular with Madeline Merced - Part 1
How-To Halloween Spooktacular with Madeline Merced - Part 2
How-To Make Your Own Tombstones
How-To Make Your Own Floating Head Effect
How-To Make Monstrous Eyes in Your House
Brought to you by If - E - Zine(tm). Remember Issue 9, The Special Halloween Edition, is NOW AVAILABLE and it's FREE!!!
How-To Halloween Spooktacular with Madeline Merced - Part 1
How-To Halloween Spooktacular with Madeline Merced - Part 2
How-To Make Your Own Tombstones
How-To Make Your Own Floating Head Effect
How-To Make Monstrous Eyes in Your House
Brought to you by If - E - Zine(tm). Remember Issue 9, The Special Halloween Edition, is NOW AVAILABLE and it's FREE!!!
Sunday, October 7, 2007
100th Post! And it's about GUNDAM! Japan officials edited Wikipedia at work
Japan officials edited Wikipedia at work
From Yahoo! News:
TOKYO - Japan's Agriculture Ministry reprimanded six bureaucrats after an internal probe found they spent work hours contributing to Wikipedia on topics unrelated to farm issues — including 260 entries about cartoon robots.
The six civil servants together made 408 entries on the popular Web site encyclopedia from ministry computers since 2003, an official said Friday.
One of the six focused solely on Gundam — the popular, long-running animated series about giant robots — to which he contributed 260 times. The series has spun off intricate toy robots popular among schoolchildren as well as adults known as "otaku" nerds.
"The Agriculture Ministry is not in charge of Gundam," said ministry official Tsutomu Shimomura.
SOURCE
GUNDAM FIGHT!
One of my prized possessions: a Gundam Wing Zero Collectible!
Special thanks to J. Ho for bringing this news article to my attention. Check out his art blog, he loves drawing robots and He-Man. Now if only he'd draw robotic He-Man.
From Yahoo! News:
TOKYO - Japan's Agriculture Ministry reprimanded six bureaucrats after an internal probe found they spent work hours contributing to Wikipedia on topics unrelated to farm issues — including 260 entries about cartoon robots.
The six civil servants together made 408 entries on the popular Web site encyclopedia from ministry computers since 2003, an official said Friday.
One of the six focused solely on Gundam — the popular, long-running animated series about giant robots — to which he contributed 260 times. The series has spun off intricate toy robots popular among schoolchildren as well as adults known as "otaku" nerds.
"The Agriculture Ministry is not in charge of Gundam," said ministry official Tsutomu Shimomura.
SOURCE
GUNDAM FIGHT!
One of my prized possessions: a Gundam Wing Zero Collectible!
Special thanks to J. Ho for bringing this news article to my attention. Check out his art blog, he loves drawing robots and He-Man. Now if only he'd draw robotic He-Man.
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Rocko's Modern Halloween
Here's an episode from one of my favorite cartoons of all time (well, it's in my top ten anyways). Rocko's Modern Life ran from 1993 to about 1996. It deserved more season, in my humble opinion.
See as Halloween is approaching, I thought I'd share a Halloween episode of Rocko's Modern Life entitled Sugar Frosted Frights.
Enjoy:
PART 1
PART 2
REMINDER: If - E - Zine(tm) Issue Number 9, the Special Halloween Edition, is now available and it's FREE!!!
See as Halloween is approaching, I thought I'd share a Halloween episode of Rocko's Modern Life entitled Sugar Frosted Frights.
Enjoy:
PART 1
PART 2
REMINDER: If - E - Zine(tm) Issue Number 9, the Special Halloween Edition, is now available and it's FREE!!!
Friday, October 5, 2007
The Mummies!
Just a reminder that If - E - Zine(tm) Issue Number 9, the Special Halloween Edition is now available and it FREE!!! Check it out here.
For this week's post I bring to you the legendary garage surf punk rock band The Mummies. They were founded sometime in 1988 or 1989 and have been going fairly strong ever since. This video is from a cable access show. The song is their take on "Surfin' Bird" by The Trashmen (which, if memory serves, was last popularized in the movie Back to the Beach starring Pee-Wee Herman aka Paul Rubens).
ADDITIONAL STUFF:
Pee-Wee Herman's performance of "Surfin' Bird" from the movie Back to the Beach
The Mummies perform their classic song "You Must Fight to Live on the Planet of the Apes". I didn't post this video because the sound quality isn't wonderful, but it's not horrible.
The Mummies website
Related Band: The Ventures
Enjoy!
For this week's post I bring to you the legendary garage surf punk rock band The Mummies. They were founded sometime in 1988 or 1989 and have been going fairly strong ever since. This video is from a cable access show. The song is their take on "Surfin' Bird" by The Trashmen (which, if memory serves, was last popularized in the movie Back to the Beach starring Pee-Wee Herman aka Paul Rubens).
ADDITIONAL STUFF:
Pee-Wee Herman's performance of "Surfin' Bird" from the movie Back to the Beach
The Mummies perform their classic song "You Must Fight to Live on the Planet of the Apes". I didn't post this video because the sound quality isn't wonderful, but it's not horrible.
The Mummies website
Related Band: The Ventures
Enjoy!
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Kaiju Katana: Monster Maker(tm)
Just a reminder that Issue Number 9 of If - E - Zine(tm) is NOW AVAILABLE. Besides three FREE science fiction- and Halloween-themed short stories, it also offers Kaiju Katana: Monster Maker(tm) - a set of rules you can use to make giant monsters like Godzilla and battle them with your friends!
Check it out, won't you? Enjoy!
And remember: It takes a man to be a father!
Check it out, won't you? Enjoy!
And remember: It takes a man to be a father!
Monday, October 1, 2007
If - E - Zine(tm) Issue Number 9 is HERE and it's FREE!!!
Hey Folks!
These are exciting times! Not only is Issue Number 9 of If - E - Zine(tm) now available as of today, but the site has a whole new look!
I'm especially excited because this issue is not only Issue 9 and Special Halloween Edition 5 (If - E - Zine(tm) is now four years old and going strong!) but it's also the First Ever Monster Issue!
What makes this the First Ever Monster Issue?
Firstly, there’s quite a monstrous amount of material for you to peruse! There's three short stories:
In “A Bit Of Chocolate” we see three space-faring scientists attempt to discover the roots of the mysterious ‘Space Fever’.
In “A Touch of Rust” a grandfather’s desperation leads him to extreme measures to convince his young grandson that there are still parts of the world where trees exist.
And in “Hunter of the Dead” we're introduced to the character Urdgar the Hunter, a Viking that finds himself thrust into a zombie-filled apocalypse! Yep, Vikings vs. Zombies!
As if that weren’t enough, Issue Number 9 of If - E - Zine(tm) is also loaded with Kaiju Katana: Monster Maker(tm)! This is a set of rules for you and your friends to make giant-sized monsters (like Godzilla, King Kong, the Zords and Ultraman) and pit them in mortal combat with one another!
Now the second reason I call this the First Ever Monster Issue is that I’ve decided to borrow an idea from the original Outer Limits television show. In their initial season the producers of the show required at least one monster per episode. After the first season they dropped this requirement and the shows' ratings diminished horribly.
With Issue Number 9 of If - E - Zine(tm) I promise, dear readers, to provide at least one story per issue (starting with this issue) that includes the appearance of at least one monster!
I also want to take a quick moment and thank everyone who has supported me and my fiction and If - E - Zine(tm) over the last four years. I also want to welcome all the new readers from MySpace. I appreciate all the support I receive.
Also, dear readers, please note that the If - E - Zine(tm) MySpace profile has some new tunes for you to listen to while at work, at home or wherever you can access the internet! It's all science fiction- and Halloween-themed right now. Help me celebrate the Halloween Season and enjoy listening!
Enough talk! Let's get to that FREE fiction!
With much thanks,
~ charles
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