Welcome to my writing corner. Here you'll find stand alone stories and tales that stretch much longer. You'll find tales ranging from medieval adventure to modern stories about real people with a sci-fi twist. If you like/hate what you read, drop me a line and let me know.

You can find the stories grouped by the labels just to the right.

Sunday, August 30, 2009

"Hero's" Story - Chapter 17

It was dark when I woke up. I couldn’t tell how much time had passed but my head still pounded and my body felt stiff and weak. I sat up and leaned against a chimney. Guilt ate at my gut, it was complete self defense but I’d killed another person. I shook my head to clear the rush of thoughts that attacked my brain.

A ringing came from my jacket pocket. My cell phone. I pulled it out; it was scraped and scratched up, but still functional. I made a mental note to write a positive review online.

“Hello.” I flipped the phone open.

“It’s Flare!” I heard gunfire and commotion in the background. “Jesus, they’ve got us surrounded.”

“Who? Where are you?”

“The Lair.” I could hear Lady Speed scream in the background. “Shit man, you’ve gotta help us. Oh Shi-“. There was more commotion, some banging, more gunfire, possibly an explosion, and then the line went dead.

I took a long deep breath and slid the phone back into my pocket. I was in no condition to fight, but hopefully I could regain some strength on the flight. It’d take me at least three hours to get there at full speed. I stood shakily and took off for the Fantastic’s Lair.

It took me five hours to get there. The Lair was destroyed; bullet holes and scorch marks everywhere. Some spattered blood, but not much. The doors were caved in, windows broken, glass everywhere. All of Bionic’s computer stuff was gone. After a second sweep I noticed that everything interesting was gone. All their technology, all their costumes, everything that made them heroes was taken.
Whoever broke in wasn’t just trying to kill the Fantastics, they were trying to capture them.

“I thought I saw someone comin’ in ere.” A homeless guy wearing a tattered trench coat stood in the doorway to the basement.

“Who are you?”

“Jus’ a guy. Sleep out back, in tha alley. They’re gone ain’t they?”

I nodded.

“It’s a damn shame. They was always nice to me. ‘Specially the computer guy. Always shared ‘is sanwiches with me.”

“Did you see who took them?”

“You gotta brain in that head a yers? Course anyone knows who took ‘em. It’s the goddamn Government. Big brother, alla that shit. Goddamn motherfuckers can’t keep their hands outta a good thing. Gotta fuck it all up.”

I sighed, “Thanks.” Crazy old man.

I flew outside and up above the city, I wasn’t a detective and had no clue where to find them or even where to start looking. That’s when I noticed a man running through the street. He looked terrified, close behind a dozen men in black suits carrying guns were chasing him. I flew closer, it was Bionic and he was being chased by Federal Agents.

That crazy old man was right.

"Hero's" Story - Chapter 16

He didn’t have all my powers. He could jump high, but he hadn’t flown at all. That was the difference, he couldn’t fly. Now all I had to do was use it to my advantage before he murdered me with his bare hands.

The “Messiah” was taking his time walking over to me, he raised his arms in triumph and the crowd of cultists was invigorated. Seeing their master standing over the “imposter” had them in a frenzy. When he finally stood over my bleeding, bruised, battered body he lifted his arms. A silence took over the crowd.

“Now you see! The non-believers have sent their puppet to kill me! But I still live! As it was predicated, as it was written I am the Son, I am God! Now I will slay this demon and prove it to the world!”

A savage growl left my lips as I summoned what little energy I had left and pushed myself off the ground. I wrapped my arms around the lunatic and flew as fast as possible straight into the air. He squirmed and wriggled, but I held him tight. When he couldn’t break free he started punching me in the side of the head. My brain pounded, my vision grew dim but still I shot upward. The air grew cold, the wind whipped at us, the ground below disappeared, only clouds remained. I’d never flown so high. The air started growing thin, still I would not relent.

Finally I couldn’t breathe, the air was dead cold, no sound could be heard, the “Messiah” was no longer trying to wriggle free, but he was trying to hold on. I stopped flying and looked into his face where I saw absolute terror.

“Sorry.” Was all I could say as I changed directions and shot us towards the ground. I flew faster than ever before. The wind tore at my face and deafened me, still I flew faster. The clouds broke, I gripped him tight as we sped closer to the ground. Once we got below the tops of nearby buildings I shoved him away from me. I leveled out and stopped, he plunged into the concrete. There was a massive explosion of concrete and dirt as he burst into the ground. It sounded like a freight train running into a skyscraper.

I hovered above the crater and waited for the dust to clear. After what seemed forever, I could make out his limp body in the bottom of the pit. His clothes shredded, blood seeped from his mouth. He didn’t move or breathe. I killed him.

I felt so weak, my head spun, the adrenaline left my body and I realized just how messed up I was. I took off towards home, but only made a block before I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I landed hard on top of a nearby building and blacked out.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

“Hero’s” Story – Chapter 15

It was afternoon, I was at work. My boss came to my cube and pulled up CNN’s website. Top Story, a cult was having a rally outside a local Federal Building. All wearing white robes with symbols tattooed down their arms. They were starting to get rowdy; there were already reports of scattered altercations with the cops.

“Take the rest of the day off.” My Boss winked.

As I flew near the scene, things had gotten even uglier. Cultists were throwing rocks at the building, riot cops descended on the crowd. Suddenly a man leapt from out of the crowd. By leapt, I mean he jumped thirty feet in the air. The cultists went crazy, chanting “Messiah” as the man landed in the center of the riot cops and started pummeling them with his bare hands.

He’d downed over a dozen cops before I plowed into him and sent him skidding across the cement. The crowd grew quiet. In a flash the “Messiah” was up, he ran at me, superhumanly fast, and punched me in the jaw. I’d never been hit so hard in my life. The blow hurled me fifty yards into a parked van.

Cheers erupted from the cultists. I lifted what was left of the van and threw it at him. He took one step forward, caught the van and tossed it at the police. He jumped at me and we exchanged blows. After a few seconds blood poured from my nose and mouth. He barely had a bruise. He grabbed me by the throat, leapt high into the air and body slammed me through the roof of the federal building. My body shredded through five floors and finally stopped at ground level.

He lifted me by my hair, looked me in the eye and said.

“I am the Messiah!” His voice was loud, high from adrenaline and filled with crazy. He laughed, wound up his fist and punched me through the front of the building.

I hit the pavement a bloody mess. Cultists shouted in frenzied tongues. I was about to die. About to be murdered by some methed out David Koresh wannabe with powers. He was faster and stronger than me. He had all my powers amplified. As he walked over to finish me off, something clicked in my brain. He didn’t have all my powers.

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

"Hero's" Story - Chapter 14

A meeting appeared on my calendar at work the next day. It was a one on one with my boss. I’d taken off as soon as he had recognized me the day before and hadn’t figured out what I’d tell him.
I sat down in the conference room as he closed the door.

“First of all, don’t try to play dumb. I know it was you.”

He just trumped my first tactic.

His eyes lit up as a light bulb went off in his head. “That’s why you are always tired, and why you come in late all the time!”

There was nothing else to do, so I nodded.

“Shit! What you’re doing is important man. From now on, whatever you need, just ask. Your secret is safe with me.”

I sat, dumbfounded and alone in the conference room. I didn’t even get to talk. What the hell just happened?

I got a lot of sly winks, high fives and shoulder slaps from my boss after that. He was in on my secret; he was the only one in on both halves of my life and it made me feel awkward.

Soon after that, I was on patrol and picked up a couple selling meth. A guy and a girl dressed in white robes with greasy hair and arms tattooed with weird symbols. They were selling to some college kid when I caught them. They immediately got on their knees and bowed before me.

“Do not strike us master, we are earning money for the cause?”

“What cause?” Yeah, I was baffled.

“The second coming has shown himself. God’s hammer will strike the wicked.”

“Are you serious? I’m taking both of you to jail.”

They got up quickly and sneered at me. “You are false! You are an imposter! He will smite you! The Messiah will smite you!”

I’d had enough crazy cultists chat for one day, so I hauled the pair off to the police station. The entire trip was a headache. They went on and on about the second coming and judgment day and how selling meth was “God’s Work”. The two of them kept ranting and raving, even as they were locked up.

As I left the police station I remember thinking ‘I’m glad to be done with this’. Why am I always wrong?

Monday, August 24, 2009

"Hero's" Story - Chapter 13

I kissed Julie for the first time shortly after I got back. I remember the day exactly; it would have been my wedding anniversary.

A few weeks later I was in divorce court. I gave my wife full custody of the kids, I didn’t fight for anything. I knew I couldn’t be a father and the other thing at the same time. I regret it all now, but it was probably the right thing for everyone.

That evening I went to Julie’s house, she left the window open for me. I flew in and saw her lying on the bed, dressed in red lingerie. Candles burning, rose petals and champagne.

“Cupcakes.” I mumbled.


“Never mind. You look…amazing.” I skipped patrol that night. It was incredible. I’ll keep every detail of that night in my brain for as long as I live.

I ducked out a little before dawn to fly home. I noticed a car on the road swerving badly. As I flew in closer the driver lost control and sped up into oncoming traffic. He was about to ram head first into another car when I swooped down and lifted his car up. Damn drunk drivers. I set the car down gently in a nearby parking lot and stepped to the window to reprimand the driver.

It was my boss. His jaw dropped as he recognized me. “You” was all he said.

Friday, August 21, 2009

"Hero's" Story - Chapter 12

They turned to look at me and like a flash the woman had my hands and legs cuffed. Super speed apparently was her thing. I didn’t even struggle.

“Who are you?” the leader asked. Thin, brown hair, flames danced around his knuckles as he stood, ready to fight.

“You’re like me. I came from up north to find you. You’re like me.” I snapped the handcuffs like they were plastic toys.

“Those aren’t free you know?” The woman reprimanded.

“Sorry, you’re right. Can we go somewhere and talk?”

They took me to their secret Lair ; I swear that’s what they called it. The leader was Flare, he could shoot fire from his hands and feet. If he shot flames from his feet he could fly. It burned the hell out of everything around and he was clumsy, but he could fly. The woman was Lady Speed, and she was really fast. The third guy was Bionic, he was really handy and could kind of “talk” to machines and get information out of computers. The only downside was that he couldn’t talk to humans. Whenever he opened his mouth it just sounded like a modem trying to handshake.

Flare, Bionic, and Lady Speed, they called themselves the Fantastics. And people wonder why I don’t have a super hero name.

I spent the weekend with them. They seemed like good people. They weren’t quite like me though and I still felt alone, even among them. Flare told me about a few others like us. He shared some stories about criminals with power they put away. I’ll never forget the last thing he told me before I left.

He said, “Watch the ones you put away. You know, the ones with powers. They all escape eventually.”

Thursday, August 20, 2009

"Hero's" Story - Chapter 11

After a few hours on the Internet I came up with reports of “Super Heroes” in about a dozen cities. There was a news interview with three of them just a few hours away. I decided I’d take a three day weekend and head there soon.

Getting time off of work while you are on final warning is a bit tricky. Luckily there was an opening second shift. I snagged it. Most people with powers work second shift. You head in late enough to sleep and get out early enough to patrol. The shift change was the first thing to save my job, which was good. There was no money in “crime fighting” and whoever heard of a homeless “Super Hero”?

A couple weeks later I got my time off, packed a backpack and flew the next state over to find these Super Hero guys. I combed the city with no luck the first night, stopped some minor crime. The crooks in this city seemed less surprised by my powers. Obviously these Heroes had made an impression.

I ran across them in action on the second night. They were stopping a bank robbery. I hung back and watched them work. One guy, seemed to be the leader, shot fire from his hands. Another guy was strapped with crazy gadgets and was firing some kind of futuristic gun. The third one was a woman, and from what I could tell, having a big rack was her power.

After they stopped the robbery, I flew down and said, “Hey.”

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

“Hero’s” Story – Chapter 10

I’d seen Julie a couple more times. We talked and flew around, she liked heights. I was on final warning at work for coming in late. I found a studio apartment downtown; it helped to be near the action. I slept less than ever. I survived on a diet of Red Bull, Monster, coffee, and Mountain Dew, it felt like college all over again.

One day at work, lawyers served me divorce papers, the separation from my wife hadn’t really sunk in until then. On patrol that night I heard a security alarm going off at a GAP. Burglars. Burglars were generally only mildly more intelligent than muggers. I flew down to check it out and noticed the door was ripped off its hinges and the doorframe was scorched.

I stepped into the store and saw a scrawny kid with a fohawk trying on cloths, not what I expected at all.

“Hey kid, down on the ground.”

“Better keep walking, mind your own business old man.” If he looked 23, he sounded 17.

I walked toward him. “Kid you’ve got no idea what you’re up against. I’ll ask you one more time, get down.”

I’ll give him this, the kid was about action. He extended all ten fingers and white arcs of electricity shot at me. Have you ever stuck your finger in an outlet? It’s like that times a thousand. The force tossed me into a rack of thongs. As I tried to clear my head, I heard him walk over to me.

“I’m Jolt. Remember it when the cops find you.” Jolt? The kid named himself after a soda? Where the hell do people come up with these names?

I pushed myself forward and tackled him into a display of polos. He looked amazed and confused. Good, it was his first time meeting someone else with powers too. We trashed that GAP; what he didn’t electrocute and fry, I knocked over or smashed. In the end I had to fly his unconscious ass to the police station and warn them in person. The cops were confused as hell and begged me to take him. Yeah, your tax dollars hard at work.

After that I sat atop a McDonald’s billboard on the side of the highway and thought. If there are more people like me, how could I find them?

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

“Hero’s” Story – Chapter 9

“Are you cheating on me?” her eyes were red with tears, her voiced cracked and dry.


“You are gone all the time, you come and go as you please, you never call. The kids cry every night and ask where their Dad is.”

“I’ve been busy.” Why wasn’t I telling her? Earlier I was sure I'd be able to tell her.

“With what? Just tell me what?” Her eyes were pleading; she wanted me to tell her so desperately. I could have said anything and she would have believed it.

“You wouldn’t understand.” I couldn’t do it; my mouth wouldn’t form the words she needed to hear. I knew she would understand, but something wretched in the pit of my stomach that made me stop.

“Help me understand.”

“I can’t. It’s about me, you wouldn’t understand.” Did I think something was wrong with me? Was I afraid of how she’d look at me when she found out what I could do? What I was?

“Either explain or get the hell out of here.”

“Honey, don’t do this.” What a half hearted attempt.

“No, no more, explain yourself or get out.”

I could have fought harder. I should have fought harder. I was just so tired, tired and afraid. I shared my secret with Julie, a complete stranger, but I couldn’t bear to tell my wife. What a chickenshit.

Whether it was the empty look in my eyes or the silence, I’ll never know.

“Just get out, leave us alone.”

I packed a duffle bag full of clothes, kissed my sleeping kids and flew off. I felt numb, I didn’t even cry. That night I blamed her for not understanding, not giving me my space. It wasn’t her though. I was transforming, becoming someone who could never be a husband or father. Shedding my old life in preparation for what was to come next.

“Hero’s” Story – Chapter 8

I knocked on her window again. She came over and opened it slowly. Tonight she was wearing a dark purple dress; she’d done her hair, she was wearing makeup and perfume.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come.” She smelled like vanilla. “Why don’t you come in?”

I had the last twenty-four hours to guess how she’d repay me. My mind wandered to some pretty fantastic places.

“Cupcakes.” I tried to mask my despair.

“Chocolate cupcakes, and coffee too!”

They were delicious and the coffee was perfect, Jamaican. We ate and drank in silence for half a cupcake. When it started to feel uncomfortable I spoke up.

“These cupcakes are good, thanks – eh, I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”

“Julie, I’m Julie.” There was an awkward pause, “What do people call you?”

“They don’t really call me anything.”

“No fancy superhero name?”


“Not Superman or Incredible Guy or… Captain Crime?”

“Captain Crime?” Clearly Julie did not read comic books. She grew quiet; my tone had obviously offended her. “Want me to fly you?” I’d never flow anyone before.

“Sure, okay, is it safe?”

“I do it every day.” I wrapped my arms around her. She was warm and she smelled so good. We flew around the city, mostly in silence, for about an hour. I took her home, thanked her for the cupcakes and flew off. Julie, it felt good to share my secret with someone.

As I headed home, I felt a pang of guilt. Though I hadn’t done anything physical, I felt like I cheated on my wife. I would tell her first thing tomorrow, I’d tell her everything. About my powers, and my “missions”, about Julie, about everything. It was the only way to make things right.

I got home at 4:30am, I had flown and forgot my car at work. My wife was still awake, waiting for me when I walked in the door.

“I didn’t hear you pull up.”

“Hero’s” Story – Chapter 7

My marriage went downhill pretty quickly. I couldn’t get the red haired woman out of my brain. My wife and I grew more distant too; we understood each other less and less. Then the sex went away completely, it made me think about the girl even more. Finally one night, I went to see her.

I flew to her window and saw her, face mostly healed, sitting, watching TV. After a few minutes I felt like a stalker so I tapped on her window. Till this day I don’t know why she didn’t call the cops, but she came over and opened her window.

“Hey” she said.

“Hey.” I hadn’t really planned what I’d say.

“So, thanks, you know,” she crossed her arms over her robe,” for the other night.”

I’d been thanked a lot; I’m still bad at accepting it so I just shrugged. “So, just checking in on you. You alright?”

“Yeah, I pressed charges. He moved out.”

“That’s good.”

“Wait, do you check on everyone you save?”

“Er, no, you’re the first.”

“So, why check on me?”

There were a million answers but I just shrugged again.

“Why don’t you come back tomorrow so I can repay you properly?”

“Okay, see you later.”

“See ya.”

I stopped two muggings and pulled a car out of a ditch on my way home that night.

I was more distant than usual the next day. Burned my toast, took the mirror off my car backing out of the garage, I got written up at work, but I didn’t care. I didn’t even go home after work that night. I had a drink and pulled an early patrol. Turned my cell phone off after ignoring eight calls from my wife wondering where I was.

“Hero’s” Story – Chapter 6

I started patrolling nightly. With a job, marriage and two kids it’s harder than it sounds. I was sleeping two or three hours a night, constantly late for work, dozing off in meetings. At home I’d nap through dinner and slink out late at night. Bruce Wayne makes it look easy.

As for my costume; jeans, t-shirt, black hiking boots (for those rough landings), leather jacket (for when I got in a scrape). When you work in IT it’s hard to explain to your wife why your clothes are always torn up. I still should have just told her the truth. The worst part was the sex. When you are sneaking around all the time, pissing your wife off, you never get any.

I was safer now too. I promised myself there would be no more Marie Swansons. Things went well for a long time, surprisingly only about 10% of my ‘missions’ ended up in the news. You have no idea how much crime there is that you never hear about. Cops took credit for a lot of my work too, I didn’t mind though; I wasn’t in it for press coverage.

Everything was fine until I saved her. It was 2am and I was flying over a small subdivision when I heard her scream. I knew it was probably a domestic. I stopped a lot of domestics. I flew down to take a peek, it’s best to look before acting on these kinds of things. Broke in on three strange sexual encounters before I learned that lesson. It was a nice house in an average neighborhood, pretty common for marital disputes.

There she was, long red hair, pretty face, well, normally pretty. She had a good sized welt on her face that night. He was drunk, standing over her yelling. She was sobbing, clutching the phone to her chest. Probably threatening to call someone, they always threaten, they never call. He reeled back to smack her and that’s when I moved.

Broke through the window, snapped his arm and smashed the coffee table with his face. I reached down to help her up. As she touched my hand and looked up at me with those big green eyes, I knew I was fucked.

“Hero’s” Story – Chapter 5

Double homicide, no leads, it was all over the news. I burned the uniform. Every time someone mentioned the incident I lost my breath. It took six months before I could smile without faking it. My marriage suffered, my work suffered. I had to push it all out of my head; I forgot about missions or costumes and tried to get my life back. I even stopped flying.

A year went by and things started to feel normal. Then the bank, I won’t lie, it felt good. I was at the bank withdrawing some cash when he burst through the door, orange ski mask and shotgun.

“Everyone get the fuck down!”

A teller hit the silent alarm. The robber stuffed two duffel bags full of cash before the cops showed up. Red and blue lights flashed everywhere. Robber thought he needed a hostage, so he grabbed me. He pressed the shotgun to my neck, I almost laughed. I bent the barrel and tossed him out the front door. The glass doors shattered, the police swarmed in on him. People started to move toward me. I couldn’t afford another fifteen minutes in the spotlight; there’d be too many questions.

I still remember the tingle in my feet as I took flight. God, it always feels good to fly. I flew off before anyone could get to me. That’s when it started for real, that’s when I knew I could never go back to normal.

“Hero’s” Story – Chapter 4

I hadn’t told my wife, I hadn’t told anyone. Who would believe me? And if they did, I’d just become a freak. I should have told her though, she would have understood.

I wish I could say that the worst part about my first mission was the costume. It was hideous; an old black Halloween cape, black jogging pants, tight black t-shirt, and a tattered bandana with holes cut for the eyes. What a joke. I went flying over the city looking for crime.

Even now I’m surprised. Even in the nicest town you can find someone to help in five minutes, if you are really looking. I found her in fifteen. A back alley, a college girl, and a man with a gun on top of her. Would have just been a rape if I hadn’t shown up. I landed in the alley and demanded “Stop!”

“What the fuck?” the punk turned his gun on me.

“I said stop.” I stood, chest puffed out, so goddamn confident. I took two steps towards him.

It hurt so bad, the punk shot me, apparently invincible doesn’t mean you don’t feel pain, the bullet never penetrated my skin, but it hurt so fucking bad. I fell over and screamed. I heard another bang as he shot the girl, Marie, her name was Marie Swanson, and in that instant she became just a mess of red hair and blood. I could hear his footsteps hitting the pavement as he took off running.

I launched myself towards him blindly. He made it a block before I plowed into him. I hit him three times in the face before he went limp. I caved in his skull and snapped his neck. I sat over him, covered in blood for forty-five minutes before I could more again.

“Hero’s” Story – Chapter 3

Everything started happing pretty quickly after that. I went to the hospital; they wrote me a clean bill of health. Some local news station interviewed me, some local churches started calling me. I got what everyone wants, 15 minutes of fame, lucky me. A month and a half later the excitement died down. I was yesterday’s news. All except for a nagging feeling in the back of my brain.

There was a buzz, a feeling, a nagging, that woke me up each morning and kept me up each night. Something was different with me; I could feel it with every inch of my body, from my head to my toes. It was July 24th, the day before my birthday when I closed my front door so hard that I knocked it off its hinges and into the neighbor’s yard. Later that day I bench pressed our Sedan. Two weeks after that I tripped and fell walking on my deck, only I never hit the ground. I flew three blocks before I could stop myself. I spent the next week learning to fly. God, I still love flying.

There I was; invincible, flight, super strength. I thought I was ready. I was so sure of myself. I was such a fool.

“Hero’s” Story – Chapter 2

I always expected that if I was in a car accident that everything would slow down to “bullet time” like in the movies. I was wrong. As I smashed through the windshield a quick image of my wife flashed in my mind. I was hurled out of my car; my body flew into the rear window of the silver Saab and continued out the front windshield of the Saab. At that point they tell me I bounced off of the trunk of a Cadillac that was in front of the Saab and skid about 30 yards across the pavement and into oncoming traffic.

As if that weren’t enough I was hit by a Geo Metro doing 55, which is about as fast as I think they go. It was at that point that I stopped traffic by defying science and common sense by standing up. My clothes were shredded to almost nothing but there I stood, not a scratch, bump, or bruise. Not one scrape or broken bone. Not a one in a million miracle but an impossibility. My life would never be the same again.

"Hero's" Story - Chapter 1

This series of stories was inspired by Unknown Hero, a web series by Michael Buonauro.

Chapter 1
I still remember how I found out. I was driving home from work, singing to the radio. Tom Petty, Free Falling, is that irony? I never can tell after that Alanis Morissette song. Later I’d find out that it all started when a semi ran into a minivan full of Girl Scouts, but at that moment all I saw was the red break lights on the Saab in front of me.

I locked up my breaks, yanked the wheel to swerve but still rear ended the silver Saab. Metal folded against metal like tectonic plates, the impact threw me out of through the windshield. Should have been wearing my seatbelt. I think about that a lot. If I was wearing my seatbelt, this story would end as a one in a million miracle. But I wasn’t wearing my seatbelt and what was about to happen wasn’t a miracle, it was impossible.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

“Hero’s” Story

So, I've been posting this story into Facebook using Notes. A beautiful woman suggested I post it here instead. So here it is, let me know if you like it.