I once took an online class about Mythology, which was interesting but not what I was looking for. I wanted a class talking about specific mythology but this dealt with the concept of mythology in general.

My biggest take away from what the professor was teaching is that often we get in our heads that mythological stories only have one real version but the reality is that even during the time these stories were a big thing there were countless versions — basically, it’s all fiction. This means mythology can be whatever we want it to be.

I must admit this concept was fascinating because I remember being one of those people that set the stories of the Greek or Egyptian gods I learned in school as the only true versions and I would get annoyed when I heard alternate versions. I really had to change my mindset on this.

Funny enough, I see people have issues with different takes on mythology in current fiction. For example I know several people that hate the sparkly vampires from Twilight but here is the thing — vampires are not real. Any of us are able to create vampires however we want or need for a story and it is valid. So as much as you might hate the idea of sparkly vampires from Stephanie Myers they are as valid as the macabre vampires of Anne Rice.

Another thing that has come up was in 2014, Marvel Comics swapped genders of some of their super heroes, including Thor. I remember there was several people commenting online their displeasure over this change. Me personally, I thought it was great. These stories are pure fiction and can change so much from different artist and writer combinations that a gender or race swap doesn’t bother me.

So writers remember it’s all fiction and go nuts. Readers, remember it is all fiction and keep your mind open to changes. Because something has always been done one way doesn’t mean it always needs to be done that way.

The Bar

And more flash fiction. My hopes is that after awhile of writing flash fiction, I can attempt a longer story. If you were wondering why all the fiction lately.

Derrick sauntered into the bar. He slicked back his stylish brown hair and cast his eyes over the crowd milling about. Sitting at the end of the bar was a man in an expensive suit and shoes. Derrick licked his lips and approached the stranger. He wiped the stool next to the man with his sleeve and sat down. The man smelled like he was drenched with cheap aftershave and booze. Derrick looked over at him and asked, “What you having?”

The man looked over at Derrick and said, “Sorry kid, you’re not my style.”

Derrick shrugged and responded, “I think you misunderstand me, grandpa. I’m just looking for a little conversation. I like to meet new people and hear their stories.”

The man snorted, “Grandpa. Cute. I like it. You’re not so bad, kid. You have name?”

Derrick signaled to the bar tender to bring two of what the stranger was drinking and then replied, “Derrick. What about you?”

“The name is Cabe.”

“Well drink up, Cabe, it’s on me.”

Cabe downed the drink and wiped his mouth with a napkin. He gasped, “that hits the spot.”

“So Cabe, you look a bit down. Things not right with the Mrs?”

Cabe held the next drink in his hand and said, “Not married. No, I’m having vampire troubles.”

Derrick almost tipped his glass and blurted, “vampire troubles?”

“Crazy right? I am a vampire hunter and work has been a bit down this year. Do you know anything about vampires?”

“Only what I’ve seen in the movies.”

Cabe downed another glass of the dark liquid and then said, “Garbage, all of it. This whole thing of staying eternally young, complete bollocks. Real vampires start to rot from the moment of their birth into un-death. Drinking blood helps slow down the rot, but you can tell a vampire from the foul stench of decaying flesh that permeates their presence. The rotting, it’s why they hate the sun, just speeds up the whole process of wasting away.”

“So why do books and shows make it seem so glamorous?” Derrick was still nursing his first drink.

“Rumors spread around by vampires. You get gullible humans seeking out vampires in the hopes of becoming one of the immortals. Having your prey come to you makes life so much easier than having to track it down for the kill. Know what I mean?”

Derrick tapped the bar with his free hand and shifted in his seat. He did have an idea of what Cabe was speaking about. “You’re not really a vampire hunter, are you?”

Cabe downed another glass and then handed a business card to Derrick. He looked it over and in simple print it read, ‘Cabe Abernathy — Vampire Hunter.’
Derrick said, “You realize anyone get a business card printed up to say anything.”

“True. I guess you’ll have to take my word for it.” Cabe went to stand up but stumbled and collapsed on the bar.

“Whoa, grandpa. You might have had one too many to drink. Let me call you a cab.” Derrick settled up with the bar tender and escorted Cabe through the crowd to the exit.

Cabe stumbled outside as Derrick tried to keep him upright. Cabe’s mouth turned into a goofy grin as Derrick began leading him towards a dark alley. “Where you taking me, kid?”

“Oh, to meet some friends.” Derrick whistled and a motley crew of people exited the alley holding clubs, chains and knives. Derrick let Cabe fall to the ground and said, “So this can go easy or hard, you just got to hand over that fat wallet and we’ll only rough you up a little.”

Cabe groaned and flopped around on the ground. He started to whimper, “Please don’t hurt me.”

“I would have thought a vampire hunter would be a bit tougher.”

Cabe stopped writhing and his whimper turned into laughter. “Oh, kid. I don’t hunt vampires.” He reached up to his face and pulled off his skin like a mask, revealing a face of rotted flesh, bone, and very sharp teeth. He uttered in a demonic tone, “I’m a vampire that hunts.”

It was over within seconds. A few escaped but Cabe didn’t care, fresh blood drizzled down his chin and he was happy. He turned to the near corpse on the ground and said, “See kid, the one thing the movies get right is vampires are fast and strong as hell.” He leaned down and started guzzling.

Whispers in the Dark

Some more random flash fiction. 🙂

He reached out and grabbed her wrist as she attempted to leave the bed. He stared into her eyes with his best attempt of puppy dog eyes. She laughed and kissed him. “I can’t, you know I can’t.”

“Your words say no but your laugh says,” he paused a brief moment and continued, “maybe?”

“I have to suit up and go save the Universe. We have the six pieces of the Codex and once we–”

“Put them in the Horborum of blah blah, the great evil will be defeated.”

“Do you want The Blackness to win, for every living being in the known galaxy to be under its control?”

“No. You know I don’t.” He sat up and rested his back on the headboard. He avoided her eyes and continued, “Do you ever feel like we aren’t in control of our actions? It always feels like there is some new threat that keeps us occupied from making any real decisions. First Duke Zagron of Bato and then Emperor Vix and now The Blackness. Where does it all end?”

She finished clasping on the last piece of her battle armor and then sat on the bed, grabbing his hand. “Dear, I love you deeply but you know how important this is. We can’t take the time for frivolous things. Now suit up, I need my space wizard.”

“You’re right. And that is space wizard of the 10th order, mind you.”

“Trying to impress a girl with a fancy title? You know I’m already yours.” She paused in thought. She scratched her helmet and said, “There is something to what you’re saying, though. In the course of our adventures, I feel like I have died before. Several times. It’s this phantom recollection that swims in my mind.”

“Yes! I have felt it too!” He finished dressing and was ready to go.

“What do you think it means?” She asked.

“I don’t know but we had better make sure to sell our junk before leaving for Protix and make sure we upgrade all our gear and get extra health kits.”

“Who are you, my dad?”

“Gosh no, that’s just creepy. I’m your space wizard.”

“Come on space wizard, let’s go save the Universe.” She grabbed him by the elbow and the two left the small bedroom arms locked. There was a Blackness coming and they were going to be there to face it.

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Golden Eyes

I didn’t really feel like writing but I wanted to keep writing. I didn’t have a good idea for a story so I searched the Internet for a prompt, came across something about two asteroids colliding and the fallout comes to earth. So I forced myself to write.

After finishing the below piece I’ve come away not quite sure what I am trying to say. What do you think I am trying to say?

Tara stared intently at her hands placed flat on the table. They were slim, a color of brown that couldn’t be quantified in a Crayola crayon set and her nails were a marvelous green. There was only one little problem. Well several little problems. Dark nasty hairs poking up destroying her fabulous look. Today was worse than yesterday and yesterday she had waxed but today the hairs were back worse than ever.

No one knew what caused it but ever since the two asteroids collided two weeks ago people all across the globe started to change. Scientists believed there was some sort of disease that was released in the collision. The only problem was they couldn’t actually identify a disease, virus, or anything really. People started growing nasty hairs on their hands and scientists were stumped. It wasn’t everyone most were lucky enough to have normal hands but Tara wasn’t one of them.

A voice started speaking at her, “You poor lass, luck has naught to do with it. Tis magic you see.”

Tara twitched out of her deep observation and looked across the table at the speaker and spoke in a melancholic tone, “You’re a leprechaun then?”

“Aye. I take it my festive green outfit gave it away?”

“A wee bit. Can you lift this curse then?”

“Now why would I do that? Tis a blessing not a curse. Every so often evolution needs a wee push, you’re part of the next step of evolution of man.”

She said, “Hairy hands? That does seem useful to solve all those pesky problems nature is throwing my way — like school dances and stars forbid I meet a boy I like. Not a one willing to give me a chance, now.”

“Don’t worry, hair on the hands is only the start. Soon your lovely eyes will turn yellow and quite large, you’ll grow a snout and fangs and have incredible strength.”

She looked at the leprechaun and asked, “I’m to be a werewolf then?”

“Of a sort, without the bother of being bound to the moon.”

“Well, that is sure to bring the lads running to my door.”

“Trust me, not a lad will resist you.”

She paused for a moment. Her fingers tapped the table. She decided what her next action would be. She let out a howl and jumped on the table. She could smell the blood circulating through the leprechauns throat. The need to take a large bit overwhelmed her and she rushed across the table, hairy hands outstretched.

“Tara! Tara, wake up!”

Tara jerked awake, she had fallen asleep on the table. Her brother was shaking her. She looked over at him and asked, “Yes, Tommy?”

“Tara, you’ve been sleeping for a long time and I’m hungry. May I have a biscuit.”

Tara smiled and stood up while saying, “Sure thing.”

The two went over to the cupboards where Tara grabbed a biscuit from the pack and gave it to Tommy. Tommy gave her a smile and said, “Thanks! And those are some wicked yellow eyes you got now.”

Tommy ran off with his prize as Tara felt a howl emerging from her throat.

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Wish UR Wish

My previous story was a bit dark and I didn’t want to do dark all the time so I changed it up with this story. I wouldn’t call it upbeat by any means but it is more fun (or at least I think so).

The setting sun cast a warm glow across the city. The dark clouds had rescinded to the horizon and puddles littered the streets. A slim young girl in a floral sundress and large black boots was holding hands with a young man. He was wearing a black leather jacket and worn jeans. The couple walked down the street laughing at what the other was saying.

The girl pointed at an older woman wearing a knitted shawl and a long dress. She was frantically trying to gather papers that had scattered across the ground. Her long black braid swinging as she moved from cluster to cluster of the papers.

“Come on, Billy! Let’s go help that poor woman.” The slim bond girl ran over and started picking up papers. Billy walked over and begrudgingly helped.

It didn’t take long before all the papers had been collected and given to the woman. She tucked her papers away in a large knit bag. After securing her bag, she looked at the blond girl in her large blue eyes and handed her a simple jade ring. The old woman said is a ethereal tone, “Thank you for your kindness. Take this ring, it is quite special. It grants three wishes. Use them wisely.” After giving the ring to Holly she collected her bag and set off down the street.

Holly twirled the ring around her fingers, with a twinkle in her eye she said, “A wishing ring! How fun!”

Billy looked down at her and laughed, “What a strange lady. Wishing ring? She is crazy, I hope she gets the help she needs.”

Holly bit down on her lower lip in thought. After a brief moment her lips turned up in a giant grin. “Let’s test it! I wish I was taller than my boyfriend Billy.”

“What now?” Billy’s eyes widened as Holly began to get taller, she stopped at about an inch taller, Billy guessed.

Holly looked upset and said, “That’s not what I wanted. I didn’t get taller, you just got shorter.”

Billy looked around and everything looked wrong, like he was much lower to ground. A shiver ran up his spine and he screeched, “what the hell?”

Holly looked over him, her hand on her chin. “Hm. Your clothes seemed to adjust with the change. They’re not oversized at all. How weird.”

“That’s what you care about right now? Change me back or else!”

Holly stepped back with a scared look on her face. “Billy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Billy clenched his fists and stepped towards her. She backed away realizing that he was still stronger than her despite his new diminished size. A new wish popped in her head, she twisted the ring on her finger and whispered, “I wish that my muscles would gain the strength from the ten strongest men in the world.”

Billy’s lower jaw dropped as he watched every muscle on Holly’s body balloon to an absurd size. She looked like a cartoon character gone wrong. He commented, “Huh. How did your dress survive that?”

“Seriously? I don’t know! Maybe this ring has a modesty filter! But I have a huge problem. I can’t move an inch, none of my limbs can bend!” She attempted to walk but all she could do was waddle from side to side.

“You look like the Michelin Man.” Billy said and then started laughing.

“Stop laughing! This isn’t funny!”

“I can’t help it, what on earth did you think would happen?”

“I expected to stay skinny but have super strength like Buffy or Supergirl.”

“Right, well that worked out well for ya. Hey, why don’t you–”

Before he could finish she interrupted, “Gah, I just wish this was all over.”

The entirety of existence vanished and that is how our Universe ended.

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The Woods

Huge shout out to Misha Burnett for being the first to mention some things about my last story I was hoping someone would mention. He made my day! 🙂

Here is a new story, not super original, but still more words written.

A cold breeze snaked across the ground, brown leafs danced in the stream of air catching on twisted roots of the surrounding trees. A group of teenagers huddled around a campfire. Several had marshmallows on sticks placed in the fire. They watched the white treats puff up from the heat. One member of the group began speaking.

“Hey, how about we tell scary stories? Have you heard about the Missouri Monster?”

The blond haired girl, wrapped in scarves and blankets let out a loud boo. The dark wavy haired girl sitting next to her exclaimed, “What Lisa said. Boo! That’s such a dumb legend.”

A tall lanky boy sitting across the fire on simple log stump said, “Yeah, it’s not even scary.”

Rachel leaned forward and rubbed her hands together over the fire and said, “I dunno. Maybe we should let James finish his story. He is a pretty good teller of tales. Maybe he made it scary?”

Lisa looked over at Rachel, with a confused expression, “Who is James?”
Rachel scrunched up her face, now she was confused. “What do you mean who is James? He is sitting right there next to Rob.”

Tommi, the dark wavy haired girl, said, “Rachel, you’re kind of scaring me, there is no one sitting next to Rob.”

Rachel rubbed her temple trying to massage the massive pain splitting her skull. She looked over at James who looked very annoyed. His hands were placed on top of his auburn curly hair. His green eyes stared back at her. He spoke up, “Okay, guys this isn’t funny. You guys see me, right? I am right here.”

Lisa spoke again, “Rachel, would you stop trying to get attention. This isn’t funny. I am so tired of how you just make things up for a laugh.”

Rachel let out a small yelp. The pain spread across her skull down to the back of her neck. Her vision started to blur but she managed to make out James standing up, a metal hot dog roaster in his hands. His knuckles turning right. She screamed as James tried to run the roaster through Rob but the metal was flimsy and bent.

“How about that dumb ass. See how real I am?” James shouted.

Lisa screamed, “Why the hell would you do that? Are you insane?”

Rachel watched as James turned to Lisa, his face red, “I am tired of being invisible, with all of you clowns pretending I don’t exist. Well I exist, I am visible!” James picked up the hatchet next to the kindling by the fireplace. He swung, blood splattering across his face as screams surrounded him. “I exist.”


Rachel opened her eyes. She was standing next to the smoldering embers of the dying fire, the bloodied corpses of her friends littered the ground. She tried to scream but it came out as a pathetic whimper. Her hand, she was holding something. She looked down, in her clenched fist was a hatchet. Blood dripping from the blade onto the ground. She crumbled to the ground on her knees letting out a sob. She felt a hand placed on her shoulder and a faint voice say, “I exist.”

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The Closet

I am going to write a few fiction stories on here. They won’t be good but at least I am writing something. Maybe one day I’ll git gud at this writing thang.

John woke to his cellphone buzzing on the nightstand. The figure next to him twisted under the covers as he looked at his phone and groaned. He smashed the answer button on the screen and in a gruff voice said, “Yes?”

The voice on the other end of the line spoke for what felt like several minutes before he spoke again, “It’s just your imagination. Our house is not haunted. No ghosts, werewolves or zombies.” The other voice continued again for another length of time. John tapped the nightstand with his knuckles and then interjected, “No, I told you I have to work all night. You know what will happen if I don’t get this project done.” John brushed his hair back with his hand and gave a deep sigh as the voice interrupted him. He spoke into the phone, “Okay, okay. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

He ended the call and the covers next to him shuffled around as his companion sat up. Her hands started massaging his shoulders and she asked, “Your wife?”

“Yes. This move out to the country side was a giant mistake. Her sanity has leaped off a cliff.”

“It sounds like it — from what you told me. Hanging garlic to keep out the vampires, laying out meat to scare off the poltergeists, and placing those witch symbols around the yard. It sounds nuts.”

“Ugh the meat, it just sat there for days rotting. The house smelled horrible. I made her toss it out. I think she bought more recently too. She is scared to go anywhere at night and every creak she hears sends her into hysterics.”

The woman said, “You should leave her.”

“You know why I can’t.” He responded.

She stopped her massage and said, “You’d better go. Don’t want to be late.”

He turned and gripped her hands, “Hey now, don’t be like that. It won’t be long before I can finally leave her. Just a few more months.”

“I hate all this sneaking around, I want our relationship to be open. I want my friends to meet you.”

He smiled and kissed her before saying, “You are the only woman for me. Be patient.”


John was walking up to his front door when it burst open and the frail figure of his wife entangled him. “Oh John, I am so glad you here.”

John remained silent and gave his wife a firm embrace. They separated and he said, “Okay, where is the ghost tonight?”

Her face scrunched up in an attempt to hold back her tears. “John, it is terrible. I have never been so scared. Noises coming from all over the house. From the basement to the attic.”

“I’m here now. Let’s go scare this ghost back into submission.” He held her hand and led her back into the house.

The two started in the basement, where he went around opening doors to prove to his wife no monsters lurked behind. They made their way up to their bedroom. He approached the bathroom door and his wife’s grip tightened. He shook his head and ripped open the door. The clean tile, empty tub and simple vanity was the only thing visible.

“That’s just about every room in the house. See? No ghosts, ghouls or monsters. How about we get some sleep.”

She nodded her consent and the two prepared for sleep.


The two figures under the comforter slept in peace in the dark room. A cry wafted through the air. The sound of something in pain. John’s eyes opened at the noise. He looked over at his wife, she was still asleep. She looked peaceful and the faint light drifting through the window brought out her beauty. There was the woman he had married. John waited a few minutes to hear if the noise returned but there was only silence. He closed his eyes when the same haunting cry pierced the night.

John jumped out of bed. This time, the sound, it was coming from the closet. He hadn’t checked there. He approached the closet with caution. Each step brought him closer. Was that rustling he heard from behind the closet door?

A voice broke his concentration. It was his wife, she was near the bedroom door, her eyes large with fright. “John, don’t. Don’t open that door. Let’s leave.”

“It’s okay. It’s probably just the wind but I had better check.” John started toward his goal again.

His wife pleaded, “Please, John. Let’s leave this house.”

“Relax, I got this.”

He gripped the doorknob to the closet and turned the knob. He heard the bedroom door slam. He threw the door open. A giant howl pierced his ears as a dark form pounced on him slamming him to the floor. He screamed as long claws twisted into his flesh. His screams stopped as his throat was ripped apart from sharp teeth.


Detective Arnold looked at the grisly scene in the bedroom as the officer next to him was stating through the known facts, “We can’t confirm for sure until the autopsy but the markings on the body have the signature of a mountain lion attack. Officer Wendell found there was hole in the side of the house that led to a crawlspace between the walls that led to the back of the closet.”

Detective Arnold spoke, “Well ain’t this the darndest thing. A mountain lion attack. The wife?”

“She is safe. Really shook up but she fled the house thinking it was haunted. Saved her life, most likely. Made it to her neighbor’s house down the street. They were who contacted us.”

“Okay, well this seems pretty open and shut. Get animal control out looking for the animal. I’ll go speak with the wife, that poor woman.” Detective Arnold shook his head and walked down the hall. He certainly never expected his day to turn out like this.

Well tell me what you thought in the penny jar below!


In my extensive time being a consumer of entertainment I need to get this off my chest. I hate strongly dislike flashbacks. This also includes prologues and prequels. 99% of the time these narrative devices are pointless.


They are mostly exposition dumps of important story details that often have already been explained to the audience in a better way. I find they often break the pacing of a story and go on longer than needed. It’s annoying.

However, sometimes its a bit alright. I recently watched a movie called Begin Again which used a combination of flashbacks and different perspectives. A few characters start out in a bar and the story jumps back for each character showing how they all ended up in the bar. We get to see each character’s interpretation of the events happening in the bar which was very well executed. The movie goes on to include a few other flashbacks and it all worked out quite well.

Here is my rule of thumb when to have a flashback, prologue, or prequel:

  1. Don’t.

I kid! Well, a little. Most people can’t get it right when they write flashbacks and the one’s who think they can probably can’t.

I almost feel like one of the basic advice given to new writers of show don’t tell is a bit bogus. It really should be: show what is important — tell what isn’t and chances are what you feel is important probably isn’t.

i hate u, i love u — i hate that i love u

I think Spotify might truly understand me. I have been listening to music off and on the last few weeks at work through Spotify and this evening the first channel I saw when I loaded the app was ‘Broken Heart’. It is a bit scary that through a few searches all that maths can figure me out.

Ran across a song that sparked the title for this post by gnash. Oddly, I didn’t care much for his part but Olivia O’Brien, she alright.