Fan Fiction: Dragon Age II

So classes are almost over for this semester and I’m going to have more time again to read and write. In fact, I’ve already dabbled a little bit on a couple of other stories.

Today’s picture is from actual game play but I found it at I’m thinking this site is outside the U.S. since I can’t read most of the writing.

Hope you enjoy!

Justice and Karl

Hawke considered himself a pretty powerful mage, but compared to Anders and what just happened, he paled in comparison. Whatever Anders had become, he was almost an infinite pool of mana that attacked the Templars ruthlessly and repeatedly. Man after man fell before them, too easily, until only one remained. As fatigue and injuries started to weigh him down, he glanced over and saw Anders still standing, still casting, and still glowing.

Only Karl remained stationary, that is until Anders, and whatever was in Anders, released a final blast of … something. Hawke wasn’t entirely sure what he did, but he felt it to his core. Anders would have continued his barrage, but Karl’s voice seemed to snap him back to reality.

Karl moved, looked around and shook his head, almost as though he had woken up from a long sleep. “I – Anders, what did you do?” Anders spun around and faced the man. The look on his face was something Hawke would remember for the rest of his life. Karl continued, his eyes emitting confusion and shock at what just transpired. “It’s like … you brought a piece of the Fade into this world. I had already forgotten what that feels like.”

“This … this bastard … ratted you out … to the Templars!” Carver stated in between heavy breaths.

The Warden was too elated to let the young warrior’s words bother him. “He wasn’t himself. Being made Tranquil takes away everything human inside you. He wasn’t capable of caring for me anymore. He could only follow the rules.” Again the warm smile and look on Anders’ face said more than what he explained and his eyes poured over the man’s features like a waterfall.

“I thought the Tranquil were cut off from the Fade forever.” Hawke stated as he turned to Carver. “This is what we were protecting Bethany from.”

“When you’re Tranquil, you never think on your life before.” Karl explained as he looked at Hawke. He then turned back to Anders and put a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “But … it’s like the Fade itself is inside Anders. Burning like a sun.”

Hawke turned to Anders. “What did you do? Not the Fade part – the angry glowing bit.”

“It’s like a gateway to the Fade inside you.” Karl said to Anders. “Glowing like a beacon.

Anders frowned and a bit of the warmth and happiness in his eyes faded as he looked from Karl to Hawke and back. “I have … some unique circumstances, yes. But, Karl, what happened? How did they get you?”

“The Templars here are more vigilant than in Ferelden. They found a letter I was writing you … You cannot imagine it, Anders. All the color, all the music in the world, gone. I would gladly give up my magic, but this? I’ll never be whole again.” Karl’s demeanor changed from appreciation to fear and he released Anders, although the Warden tried to take hold of his friend’s hand. “Please, kill me before I forget again! I don’t know how you brought it back, but it’s fading.” Panic filled the gray eyes of the mage before them as he pleaded with Anders.

“Oh the poor man.” Merrill stated sadly.

Anders looked broken again and he shook his head. “Karl, no – you … you can’t ask me this …”

“Anders, I know there’s no cure for this.” Hawke started as he put a consoling hand on Anders’ arm.

“No. It’s like wanting to cure a beheading. The dreams of Tranquil mages are severed – there is nothing left of them to fix.”

“I would rather die a mage than live as a Templar puppet.” Karl said sadly. “Please Anders, if I revert I may … try to betray you again. I don’t think I could…”

Carver turned to Anders. “My sister called being made Tranquil a fate worse than death. Give him peace.”

Even Merrill agreed. “I would rather die than be Tranquil. Help him.”

Anders looked down, a defeated man, and his voice cracked when he spoke. “I got here too late. I’m sorry, Karl. I’m so sorry.”

Karl started to panic and moved back away from Anders. “Now! It’s fading …” Then he was quiet, silent. Tranquil. “Why do you look at me like that?”

Anders was on the verge of tears as he saw Karl die before him yet again. He gently touched the man’s cheek and then looked him in the eye as he drew his dagger.


Karl gasped as the blade plunged deep into him. Anders turned as his friend fell to the ground. “We should leave before more Templars come.” He said as he walked away.


Other Stories: Sanity

I’m back with another chapter. I’m sorry this one took so long to post – inspiration came to me while I wasn’t anywhere near a recorder or my laptop. Of course, right?

It’s not my best work, I’m sorry. I was able to feel a little something that I felt when I started writing this, but if you don’t feel it, let me know and I’ll see how I can get back on track.

Today’s picture is called Gakko Gurashi Manga. I found it in the Mid-Season Review: School Live! section of Once you read this section you might get it.

“What’s this?” I’m only half looking at what it is – a box that he’s handing over to me. I have one hand on my shopping cart and the other slowly taking this thing he’s handing over.

“It’s a game.” His response as he lets it go then starts paying attention to the baby carrier sitting in the shopping cart.

“Yeah, well, I don’t play games. Unlike you, I’m a bit too busy.” I try to hand it back.

He shrugs and keeps messing with the baby carrier, but isn’t taking it back. “I make time.”

“Yeah but you don’t have a kid or a job or bills or things like that.”

“I have a job!” He looks back at me but still doesn’t take the box.

“Right. What? Playing video games? Please! Here, I don’t want it! I have to finish shopping and get … back to the sitter …”

The memory fades. I remember it but I don’t. He never took the box back.

“Then what happened?”

I blink but I don’t see anything or anyone. Not sure who asked that but I feel obligated to answer.

“Hey, my kid’s crying, I have to go feed her.” I try to put down the controller while I’m looking at the screen, watching the others going after whatever it was we were trying to kill.

“Now? You picked a fine time to quit!”

Not sure who that was. “I’m not quitting I have to go feed my baby.”

“You leave now and we’re booting you! We had it all planned out.” Same person

“Yeah! Why didn’t you say before that you had stuff to do?” Well, that’s just great. And here I thought he was my friend.

“She just woke up, I have to go feed her!” I’m still sitting on my couch, still holding the controller. Why haven’t I gotten up yet?

“Damn it! Now we’re gonna have to wait?” I’m thinking he’s not much of a friend now.

“Go fucking find someone else! Boot her ass!”

“No, no! Wait! I’ll stay but we have to do this fast ok?”

I’m thinking that’s what started it all.

“Did you wind up finishing fast?”

“Yeah, I think that time we did. She was still crying, loud. She was so mad, didn’t even stop crying until she fell asleep eating.”

“But that wasn’t the last time something like that happened, was it?”

“I don’t think so.”

“How long have you been playing it?”

“I don’t remember. We pulled an all-nighter. We had this major boss we had to take down and needed everyone sharp.”

“So you didn’t hear her crying?”

“Yeah I did, but they needed me.”

“So you let her cry? She needed to be fed, to be changed.”

“I can change her after we beat the boss. And she cried herself to sleep before. I just wake her up and feed her.”

“How many days have you done this?

“I don’t remember.”

“Yes, you do. How many days?”

I’m trying to think, but it’s hard and I’m tired. Things are hazy. I remember her crying. I remember calling out to tell her I’d be right there. I remember …

“Do you remember your brother coming in and seeing …”

“He had no right to be there! I’m capable of taking care of everything!”

“Val, your baby died. You hadn’t fed her in two days. Even though your brother…”

“No! I had it all under control! They’ll tell you. We were kicking ass!” I think I’m crying now. I can see a face before me, screaming at me. Ryan’s screaming at me. And Jackie’s taking …

“They’re taking her! Where are they taking her! They have her! Give her back!”


“You God-damned, mother fucking, son of a bitch! You took her away from me! You took her! Where is she?” He’s holding me back while Jackie leaves; but it’s not them that’s holding me now. The Bitch is watching me, she’s watching this. “You think this is fucking funny? Sitting there like a bitch!”

All she does is write down everything. Glances at me and writes stuff down then types it on that computer of hers.

“I think we’re getting somewhere now.”

I’m so pissed I can’t even think straight, I can’t speak. I tried to stand up but that’s not good either. I do the only thing I can do: I cry.

“Dr. Summers?”

“Yes, Sean, you can take her back to her room now. If she needs it, give her something to relax her. We’ll see how she is in the morning, whether she can be returned to her regular breakfast schedule or if she needs more time.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I don’t want to go anywhere. I just want to get away, I want to go somewhere that doesn’t have Bitches, or memories. I want my life back. I want my daughter back – I know she’s not dead. They just won’t let me have her.

Fan Fiction: Dragon Age II

Greetings Avid Readers!

I’m late, but here is the latest chapter in my Dragon Age II series. The picture is a screen shot but comes from

I’m sorry that I still don’t have another chapter in my Sanity series, but I’ve started working on that in between school and life and hope to have something relatively soon.

Thanks for your patience and enjoy!

Long Way Home

Year 2, Day 14 – early morning in Lowtown

Hawke stood in the center of the room he shared with his brother, Carver, busily reorganizing his things, looking over weapons, books, parchments while trying to find anything he could possibly sell. Things had been a little slow lately but he still needed to raise the fifty sovereigns for the expedition.

Carver walked in with a few items of his own that he was willing to ‘donate to the cause’. “Hey, what’s that?” He asked as he dumped his equipment on Hawke’s bed.

Hawke sighed in exasperation at Carver’s action but quickly looked around, slightly worried. “What?” He asked as he moved towards his brother and bed.

Carver reached over the items he deposited and grabbed hold of a chain that appeared to be stuck to something. “What’s got it?”

They both moved items around until whatever had a hold of the chain relinquished it and Carver held it up for them to see. “That … looks familiar.” Carver said looking it up and down.

“It does … it should.” He reached over and pulled it out of Carver’s grasp. “It’s the payment for the debt of saving our lives back in Lothering.”

“The witch…”

“Let’s see how we can fulfill this.”

“What did you have in mind?”

Hawke put the item in his side pouch. “Grab Varric and Aveline; they’d be the ones to know exactly where the Dalish are, plus we may need the extra hands around just in case.”

Carver nodded, grabbed his weapon and the two left. They first went over to The Hanged Man to see Varric. Upon entering, Hawke recalled what Varric had once said to him about the establishment and motioned to his brother towards the back stairs. They both stopped when they saw Varric himself walking down the stairs from his residence; needless to say he noticed them right away.

“Hawke! Good news my friend. I believe I’ve procured you some employment!” He said as soon as they were close.

Hawke smiled. “Sounds grand, Varric, but we’ve have a promise to keep that’s been a bit long overdue.”

“Oh? Do tell?”

“We need to find Dalish.” Caver didn’t sound too thrilled. He probably would have jumped at Varric’s news.

“Dalish you say. I’ve heard there’s a clan of them up Sundermount. What do you need them for?”

“I have to deliver something to the Dalish leader.”

“Well now, this does put a damper on what I had planned for today. But, a promise is a promise.”

“Thank you for understanding.”

“I guess we should see if Aveline can go with us?” Carver asked.

Hawke nodded. “And the sooner the better. If they’re that far away, it’ll be a long trek.”

As it turned out, Aveline was looking forward to something different and happily agreed to accompany the men to Sundermount. They left the city around noon and the outskirts that were a rocky terrain, just like every place outside of Kirkwall about an hour after that.

Year 2, Day 16 – early evening Sundermount

The path wound around outcroppings, where numerous evergreens sprouted. Stubbles of grass and other fauna dotted the area. Both Varric and Aveline’s sources pointed to this specific area of the mountainous terrain as the temporary home of the closest Dalish clan.

As they made their way, Varric, with occasional interjections from Aveline, informed the brothers of the Dalish: elves who consider themselves the last of the great and magnificent race of elvhen and therefore preferred to keep to their own. Because of this, they tend to avoid or just outright refuse to socialize with humans, although they do encounter human travelers from time to time. Their nomadic clans wander throughout Thedas in aravels – special wagons with large triangular sails and rudder-like devices on their back. These vehicles use both magic and a type of horn stag called Halla to move effortlessly through the forests.

Led by their Keepers, or spiritual leaders, they believe themselves to have the purest blood from the time of Arlathan, the ancient primary city of the elven civilization that was destroyed by the Tevinter Imperium. They still revere the elven pantheon and each member will tattoo the symbol of their chosen god on their face.

As Hawke’s party made their way, they passed by what appeared to be ancient ruins, although it wasn’t known what people used to live there. There were a couple of incidents with some giant scavenger spiders, but otherwise their passage was unhindered. On the other side of the ruins, still under the fading light of the setting sun, were two red banners that appeared to have Halla skulls imprinted on them. Aveline motioned towards them and they went to investigate. Hopefully, they had come to the right clan.

Short Stories: Savior – Main

I went through and did a bit of maintenance on this series. No, I didn’t redo the story, I just did some cosmetic work.

I added some links in case anyone happens to want to read the entire story straight out. I noticed that although WordPress does have links for the next story, it does it according to what you write and I was busy writing out about three stories. That makes for a bit of confusion.

I’m also going to put a ‘chapter’ list here, just in case anyone loses their place or wants to start at a certain area.

Today’s picture is called “Angel and Demon” by ryky and can be found at

I will be writing chronicles for Zhovaer, Karen and even Konnor. Still not sure about how I’m publishing them though.

I hope you enjoyed this series. I’m going to continue on with Sanity and my Dragon Age stories as well as working on about three other story lines.

I’m also putting up links to writers that I’m following – I think you’ll find them interesting, informative and entertaining. This is by no means everyone I follow and I’ll be putting up more with other stuff I post.

Thanks for reading!



Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen


Other Authors

Christopher Breidenger

Sasha the Sprite

Keith Garrett Poetry

Confessions of a Readaholic

Author Luther M Siler

Author Belinda Crane

Ryan Lanz – A Writer’s Path

Sir Isaac’s Universe

Other Stories: Sanity

It may be a little bit before I come up with the next chapter in this story. I’ve been reading a lot of blogs and articles and feel that I of course don’t know half the things I thought I did about this. So what started out as just basically fiction feels like it’s going to turn into something – more interesting. I hope.

All I ask is that you please bear with me while I find my muse for this story again.

As you know, I don’t like posting pics with actual people in it unless they’re pretty much famous or their drawings or anime or clip art. Today’s picture I thought was fairly appropriate and ironically not something I would have ever conceived. It’s from and appears to be a section from the comic Ultimate Spider Man. For those who don’t know (like me) that is actually Gwen Stacy slapping Spider Man – although in this version his name is Miles Morales and not Peter Parker. Whoda thunk? According to the site (, this is “From Ultimate Spider-Man v.2 #24, pencils by David Marquez”

He was sitting at one of the smaller tables, pushing around the food currently on his plate, but not eating when she walked in to join the lunch crowd. Her first reaction was of surprise. Three weeks after they discovered him, they were finally able to coax him out of his room.

“You God-damned, mother fucking, son of a bitch!”

He turned, not because he was curious about the scream, which started out like a low growl and ended in a semi-high-pitched yell, but because it sounded somewhat familiar.

He felt her open palm hit his cheek before he saw her.

She looked as bad as he felt.

Her blue eyes were fevered and red rimmed, like she had been crying. He gingerly touched his cheek as two of the orderlies, Jimmy and … Vince? He couldn’t remember the name, but they both came running at them. Behind them he saw one of the nurses on the phone and another, Valerie maybe, coming around the corner.

Everyone else, all the other patients, and there weren’t many, had moved away from them.

He felt someone grab his arms at the same time that Jimmy took hold of Val and pulled her away. She had been ready to hit him again and he would have let her. “No, no don’t hurt her.” He heard his voice croak and crack.

She sounded almost incoherent as she continued screaming at him. “You! You fucking …. You took her away from me! You took her! Where is she?”

He reached out his hand to her, only to have someone grab it and push it down. “Please, don’t hurt her, she’s…”

“Marcus move back!” He heard Dr. Thomas’ voice and saw him and another nurse come running. She was carrying a syringe, which meant one thing.

Marcus now struggled a bit against the arms that were holding him. “No! Don’t! She’s fine, she’s just upset!”

But she wasn’t and he knew it. She continued screaming, crying and clawing, trying to get back at him for … what? Taking her away? Who?

No, not who. What.

That thing he saw her with that night.


She continued crying when Dr. Thomas injected the sedative into her, but it still took both orderlies to restrain her.

“Marcus, c’mon, man! Back up, let it go, let’s go.” He heard Clyde next to him. Marcus trusted Clyde, he was one of the few he could talk to and the only one voluntarily who went for walks with him. Clyde knew all about his feelings for the now raving creature before him.

But she wasn’t raving anymore. She was on her knees, still crying but no longer screaming.

Jimmy and Vince were putting a restraint on her while Dr. Thomas and Dr. Summers, the one who Val affectionately called “The Bitch” supervised. Dr. Monisht and a couple of other nurses were working on getting the other patients out of there and back to whatever semblance of normal they had been in.

“Let’s get you back to your room, Marcus man.” Clyde said softly.

Marcus shook his head. “No, no not yet. I don’t want to hear the scratching.”

That set Val off again, but not as intense. Instead she wailed. “You have her! She doesn’t want me anymore, you took her from me! Give her back! Please, I … I need her! Please!”

She was wiggling around, her eyes stuck on Marcus as he was trying his hardest to not look at her. Clyde led him away, but Marcus still heard her voice.

They were outside the common room and heading back to Marcus’ room when he finally spoke.

“I don’t want her.” He said.

“Tell me ‘bout it, man. She a complete one-eighty right now.” Clyde responded, thinking Marcus was talking about Val.

“No, no not Val. Val’s … no I don’t want Krystal … I don’t … don’t take me back to the room Clyde, please.”

“Oh man, don’ be starting this shit again. You is one step away from them puttin’ you upstairs!”

“Krystal’s there.”

“Shit, this is Jan all over again.”

Marcus stopped, which caused Clyde to yank his arm, but he stopped too. “Jan? Jan saw Krystal too?”

“Look man, this ain’t the time and … man! Listen! You don’ need this shit. Ok? You just startin’ to come out of it, don’ go pulling this here Jan shit and git sent back. Remember, your sister’s weddin’s in three weeks.”

Marcus heard and nodded but he didn’t care. “Take me to the couch?”

“Val’s going to the couch right now.”

“Just, please, I can’t go back to my room.”

“Marcus, man don’ make me drug yo ass too.”

Other Stories: Sanity

So last week I failed to post on this story and I apologize for that. What I had I felt didn’t live up to what I had previously posted. I still don’t. But, something needs to be posted because this story is far from over.

Most of it I did today since I didn’t have a lot of time during the week.

The picture for today I thought would do well to be humorous, especially since I previously said I wouldn’t post anything that had real people in it. It’s from one of the articles from

“I don’t see what his problem has to do with me. It’s not my fault he decided to spazz out.”

“What another patient talks about normally wouldn’t be anyone else’s business, but Marcus … well he repeatedly states that you were injured.”

“Listen isn’t there something else we can possibly talk about?”

I don’t know why she’s telling me that, it’s not going to change my opinion of things. We’ve been doing nothing but talk about that idiot Marcus this entire session and frankly I’m fucking tired of it now. It wasn’t so bad for the first 5 minutes … maybe even less than that. I mean he’s cute and all for being a fucktard, but these sessions aren’t supposed to be about anyone but … well … me … and maybe Krystal.

Wait. Maybe they’re trying to get to me, win my trust, or piss me off so I’ll start talking more about things that aren’t any of their business. Those bastards!

The Bitch is speaking now, but I’m only half paying attention. So he mentioned me. Huh, he mentioned me. Gah! Did he happen to mention that he wasn’t nice to me while trying to make like he was Casanova or something? Ha! Probably not. I signed a paper on it, they have to have it.

I guess I should at least be grateful that he’s not in here with us. I’m not sure how that would make me feel, but I’m going to guess not very good. I really don’t want to see him. I think I hate him.

I know I’ve always hated this room. No windows except for the front door, so no way to look out to escape from this interrogation. Unless I look out the front door, but that would put me right next to said Bitch and I really don’t feel like being that close to her.

“I think we’re done.” I think I’ve said that like twenty times. But it worked this time. There’s Jimmy, ready to take me to my room, or somewhere.

“How are you feeling today, Marcus?” Dr. Monisht asked as he walked through the front door of Marcus’ room. “Do you think today will be a good day to have a session outside?”


Dr. Monisht looked over and saw Marcus rocking back and forth and staring straight ahead to the wall opposite his bed. Bami stayed by the front door for only a minute, then walked over to a chair that sat by the bathroom door.

“Is there anything you’d like to discuss?”

Still nothing.

Since the day the nurse, Valerie if he remembered correctly, found him, he had been in a near-fetal position: legs bent, knees drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs and holding them tight against him. The only difference between that day and today is position – he was no longer on the floor. They had somehow managed to convince him to move thus allowing them to clean him up. But he quickly got on the bed and resumed the same position. Nothing they had done would move him off.

They also had to cover the window – draw the shades and pull closed the curtains. He didn’t want to look out.

“I have some correspondence for you – from your family I believe.” He half stood off the chair and gently tossed the letters on the corner of the bed – right over others that he had been bringing to him for the past week.

So far, only Dr. Monisht, Clyde, Marcus’ probation officer and his friend Ray-Ray were the only people who could enter his room without setting him off on a tirade of science fiction rants.

Dr. Monisht wrote a few things on Marcus’ file attached to his clipboard. This wasn’t good. If they weren’t able to bring him back from wherever he currently was, he would have to be moved to the other section of the facility.

Bami sighed and wrote a few more things on the file. “You’ve been scheduled for physical therapy this afternoon, Marcus. I hope you’re well enough to join.”

Marcus stopped rocking for only a moment, but it was enough to give his doctor some hope that maybe he was reaching him. But when the athlete started up again, Dr. Monisht closed his eyes and shook his head.

He stood up and headed to the front door. “I will return again tomorrow, Marcus.”

“She’s ok, right Doc? She … she’s alive?”

Bami turned around quickly and looked at Marcus. His eyes were still clouded over and staring blankly at the wall but he had stopped rocking again. “Yes, Marcus. She’s perfectly fine.”

“This is unacceptable!” Dr. Thomas stated loudly as he slammed his hand on the table. “We need to find out what’s going on and no! The idea of our facility being haunted or cursed is not an option!”

The weekly staff meeting started this morning on a bad note and gradually disintegrated as time passed.

“Enriqueta Valencia, aka Val, and Marcus Williams – our celebrity. One of them showing symptoms of regression that had nothing to do with what he was admitted for! And the panic that occurred because the other was thought to have bled to death! Would someone care to tell me exactly what the hell is going on?”

The room was eerily quiet as the staff re-examined notes and fidgeted in their seats.

“Ladies and gentlemen, our board of directors will not stand for this. They threw a fit when that TMZ report came out. This, however, may very well shut us down – permanently. So flights of fancy regarding vampires, voodoo, ghosts and witchcraft, among other things … no! Someone has somehow gained access into our building and patient rooms – possible our patient files and caused a disturbance and we need to find out who, how and we need to shut it down. Now!”

“Were you able to get anything from Ms. Valencia, Claire?”

“I’m afraid not, Bami. After three minutes of discussing the incident, she closed off. The only good thing out of it is knowing she isn’t suffering from Hypovolemic shock.”

“So whatever Marcus saw was not blood loss. Menstrual?”

“No. Because of her admission status, she’s monitored, it’s not her time.”

“It is possible that his past substance abuse may have caused him to hallucinate…” Nurse Valerie started.

“That I am aware of he has been clean for almost eight months.” Dr. Monisht interrupted.

“Mebbe someone slipped him a Mickey.” Clyde offered.

“So you’re suggesting that a member of my staff is providing him substances that are offsetting his current treatment?” Dr. Thomas asked.

Clyde looked down. “Dr. Thomas, in all da years I am working here ain’t no one never had access to none of them drugs what don’t go through my staff. They are checked an’ double checked and don’t get no key until we is a hunnud per cent sure they are good. We have three people, me and Valerie evvy day and you once a month go over that drug inventory. Ain’t nothing added, ain’t nothing missin’. If he got something, it was from somewhere else.”

Sebastian smiled. “Thank you, Clyde. So somehow one or both of the other wings need to be monitored and anyone from the outside as well.” He took a deep breath. “Then starting immediately, provided the Board agrees, anyone moving between areas needs to be checked for unauthorized substances…”

Other Stories: Sanity

As promised, here is what I meant to post last week – severely tweaked but hopefully still enjoyable.

The picture for this week’s episode is from from their article Fear of Terrorism is Making Us Crazy

Sometimes it’s good to be of celebrity status. Sometimes having a little bit of money lets you get away with doing things normal people can’t get away with. And then money can sometimes help you try to come to terms with certain things.

Marcus’ mind wandered amongst lots of things as he strolled the halls which he was allowed. His goal tonight was to figure out how best to not do the things that got him in here in the first place. True enough he was mostly self-committed, but that didn’t mean he had been in any less trouble.

It was either here or jail and he didn’t feel like going to jail. What he felt like right now was seeing Val. Yeah, he wasn’t supposed to.

He stood at the intersection of the halls that lead back to where he was allowed to walk and the hallway that led to her room on the other side of the building. Once again he turned right and walked away. Once again he cussed himself out.

Three weeks. He hadn’t seen her for three weeks. He had, however, met Jan. That had actually been an accident; being in the wrong place at the worst possible time.

He thought back on that day that he and Clyde were doing their regular rounds in his area of the complex when Vince ran up to them and pulled Clyde aside. Marcus couldn’t hear the conversation but he saw Clyde’s eyes widen for a split second before he looked at the athlete.

“Sorry, Marksman, we gots ta cut dis here short.” Was the only thing Clyde said as he ushered Marcus back to his room. Being in a hurry, he didn’t notice that he didn’t exactly close the door, so as soon as he was twenty paces away, Marcus exited his room and followed them…

…all the way up to the second floor stairs. The well maintained door wasn’t slow closing, but the men were making so much noise running upstairs that they didn’t hear Marcus running to and entering the stairwell behind them. He followed them at a respectable distance and then stayed at the door, holding it open enough to make sure he could hear or see what was going on.

There was a bit of a commotion coming from the second floor: loud voices almost screaming. He could hear Clyde and Vince, and the voices of others he didn’t recognize. Lastly, he heard a woman yelling, cursing, crying and screaming.

Marcus opened the door wider and peeked out to see what was going on. He saw a figure on the ground being restrained to the best of the orderlies’ abilities – even Clyde and Vince. Two other people, possibly nurses, were standing with syringes ready to sedate the person once the orderlies were able to keep her as still as safety permitted – they didn’t want to break needles or stick the wrong person.

Everything seemed to be getting better – or rather the restrained person was starting to wear down. And then the person looked up and saw him looking at the commotion. That started everything again.

Everything after that happened so fast, looking back Marcus found it hard to remember exactly how they pulled her hands off his throat. But he would always remember the gouges she left him across his face when her nails slammed against his cheek.

That was the day he was told you didn’t stare at or talk to Jan and you absolutely didn’t mention Val.

He grumbled. Everything he thought about was focusing on her. Frustrating. He was getting better at everything but that. He was purging himself – getting and staying clean and sober. He hadn’t wanted to drink or snort or shoot up or anything. He was only getting mad at himself; and since he wasn’t prone to violence off the field he was getting good marks on that too.

Oh damn it all to fucking hell that next thought better not creep up on him.

He started walking faster, his arms swinging forward and back as he moved. Think, think, think! Anything just not …

His mom and sister had been by to see him. Better. He managed to convince his sister not to postpone her wedding. He could get out in time if he towed the line and he was trying his hardest to. No fights, no rule breaking, no nothing bad.

No Val.

Damn it!

He clenched his fists and started punching the air in front of him. Wide swings, small jabs, upper cuts. Maybe he could beat himself up. But he was already doing that.


He turned right again. He lost track of how many times he had come upon the intersection and how many times he forced himself to turn right.

Maybe it would be better if he had company with him. Clyde’s constant rambling helped him not to think. Maybe he could go looking for one of the orderlies – it was Clyde’s day off but maybe he could talk one of the others to sub. Only thing is it would be on the other side of the building, which is where he was trying to avoid.

“You act like you’re in fucking love you damned bastard.”


No, it’s just infatuation. He didn’t know her, hadn’t interacted with her. She was something he couldn’t have so he wanted it. What did Doc tell him? Think of something else he wanted that wasn’t easily reachable, that was a challenge and let that replace her. That’s what he had to do. He could do it too. Right?


He stopped. That’s the second time he heard that voice and it wasn’t his.

When he looked around he saw he was where he wasn’t supposed to be. Shit! Time to go back.

He turned around and stopped.

There was another noise. Soft and breathy.

He smirked. He knew the sound of sex. No one was allowed that kind of relationship here, but someone was having fun.

Curiosity got the better of him so he turned around again and started following the noise. If the halls didn’t have such great acoustics he would have missed it, as quiet as it was.

He moved as quietly as he thought a mouse would, listening to the noise and getting overly aroused. Whoever it was wouldn’t mind him standing outside the door and having a little fun himself.

Except, it was her door.

His brown eyes instantly turned green and he wasn’t hot anymore.

What the fuck? He wasn’t allowed to touch her, to interact with her and someone was fucking her? Oh hell no! Marcus quietly went to the little window and as quietly as he could slid it open. What he saw made his blood freeze.

It wasn’t the fact that Val was lying on the bed. It wasn’t that her hands were grasping her sheets tightly in her fists as she moved and moaned. It wasn’t even the fact that she was about to cum that freaked him out.

Any other time watching two women get it on would have had him climaxing himself big time. He knew that the person between her legs was a woman – maybe that’s why she didn’t like his advances. The woman she was with was slender – at least from this angle she looked slender; feminine hands would occasionally brush her long darkish hair to the side as she worked her mouth.

No, what freaked him out, in the pale moonlight shining through the bigger window on the wall was the sight of a dark puddle near Val’s butt. What freaked him out was who was between her legs. No, not who, what.

Wait, no! That can’t be right.

Wrong or right, whatever it was lifted its head and licked lips that were as dark as the spot on the bed. Then it turned its head and looked over at him. Literally. It looked at him: later he would swear he saw … no, that couldn’t be right either. Could it?

It had … red glowing eyes?


He stepped back, slipped and fell down onto his butt when the … whatever it was … was suddenly at the door. He could hear it snarl just under the soft sound that would have sent his head … and probably his heart … reeling.

He got up as quick as he could and ran and kept running until he got to his room. The panic that wrapped itself around him made it hard to enter the room having forgotten Clyde’s instructions on how to work the lock. As soon as he entered he turned on all the lights, pulled the blankets off the bed and tossed them in one of the corners, then haphazardly pushed the bed up against the front door. Quickly and hurriedly making sure that the closet and bathroom doors were open and dark corners were bathed in light, he sat on the sheets and blankets while he stared wide-eyed at the main door.

He didn’t turn to look at anything else. Even when he thought he heard scratching at the window.

What the fuck?

He stayed where he was and when the morning nurse came in to wake him, once she and one of the orderlies was able to enter the room found him like that: still wide eyed-still looking at the door and rocking back and forth in shock.

Other Stories: Sanity

First and foremost, I want to apologize to all of you for posting this late. I’ll explain what happened – and it had nothing to do with school, my car or my life.

Well, not entirely.

I actually meant to post something completely different for this portion of my story-line but as I was reading it and re-reading it and letting it flow from my mind to my computer and ultimately to this blog site, it became clear to me that someone other than me would see how wrong the post would have been.

In no way do I want anyone to think that I’m making this into some far-fetched horror or sci-fi story. That isn’t what this is about. I have plenty of other stories on the side and posts here for that.

I wanted this to be as realistic as possible, which is ironic considering my current topic and state of mind as I write this. So I want to assure you that although my next post (which was supposed to be this one) may sound completely … well I’ve lost the word for it but I hope you get the gist of this. There are no ghosts, no vampires, no werewolves, no demons, no anything supernatural or paranormal aside from whatever the characters themselves manifest because of their conditions.

I will also apologize for the brevity of this post. I was hoping to have more than I do (I try to type up three Word pages per post) but this was all that would come out. Maybe it will tie in or maybe I will have to use another post to do that.

Today’s picture is from the Saint Louis Health, Detox, And Family Therapy Offices located at I’m trying to refrain from posting pictures that contain people unless they are caricatures, clip art or drawing of fictitious persons.

I hope you enjoy.

The early Wednesday morning sun peeked sleepily over the horizon and found the scheduled ingress of nurses, orderlies, and doctors, each holding cups of coffee or other hot, caffeinated drink, some talking, but all trying to get ready for the weekly staff meeting.

Dr. Sebastian Thomas, head of Psychiatry at the facility, was already there, as was Maureen, his secretary. Dr. Thomas was seated at the ‘head’ of the conference table going over notes for last minute information he was going to give to his staff. Maureen was making sure everyone had the proper notes for today’s meeting along with making sure there were plenty of refreshments for everyone (including herself) and that all equipment was functioning properly.

Although there were no assigned seats and the conference table was round, each person sat in their usual spots and waited patiently for Dr. Thomas to begin the meeting.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I hope you’ve had a good week so far. You’ll forgive our detour from our regular format, but I believe there are a few items of importance that we will need to address first – one in particular that has our Board of Directors very concerned.”

There was a soft murmuring through the staff as they each started reading over the agenda.

“It appears that our resident celebrity has garnered our facility a bit of … notoriety that has our legal team tearing out their hair. Would anyone like to comment?” He turned his attention first to Dr. Monisht then panned his eyes over the nurses and orderlies that were assigned to Marcus’ wing of the complex.

When no one spoke, he continued. “Somehow, this past week someone at our facility took it upon themselves to contact TMZ and talk to them about extremely confidential information. Now, I will admit that when our Board and legal team called me in to let me know about this, I had little to no idea what TMZ is, aside from overhearing bits and pieces of conversation from all of you and the other staff in the other sections. But, it has been all over the Internet that Marcus Williams is currently a patient and he was involved in an altercation with another patient here. Thankfully, the identity of that other patient was not divulged. Our legal department is currently in contact with this … media corporation to cease all disclosure of information regarding Mr. Williams and our facility as long as Mr. Williams is a patient here.”

“And you believe that someone in this room is responsible for their access to this information?” Dr. Monisht’s heavily accented voice asked.

“I believe someone in this facility is responsible, Bami. Rest assured the other departments will be going through this question and answer session at our regularly scheduled meetings. However, if we don’t find out who did this and why, our legal team will be doing one on one sessions with us in order to appease the Board.”

“I guess we should be thankful that Val wasn’t mentioned in this article. I don’t know how much exposure she has to TMZ or any other outside source, but this could add to her current regression.” Dr. Summers stated as she continued reading over the article.

“Unfortunately, Claire, I’m not thankful for anything. I haven’t had a chance to talk to Ms. Valencia as of late, exactly how much regression are we talking about?”

Dr. Summers opened up her own notebook and scanned over her observations. “We had been making a bit of progress, talking about her addiction to video games as a means of escapism. I thought it was a break-through and was going to start talking to her about her daughter at the next session.”

“I take it that didn’t happen?”

“No. She created this Krystal person as a means of hiding from the reality of her situation. Although it isn’t uncommon for those suffering from this type of addiction to use this type of defense, I’m at a loss because this name isn’t associated with any of the games we were told she had played. Also this name nor any variation of it is used in the game she was playing when her daughter died.”

“So she hadn’t been using this form of escapism long?”

“No. It only manifested … about a month ago.”

“That is around the time Mr. Williams arrived here.” Dr. Thomas stated. “Could it be that Enriquetta…?”


“I’m sorry, yes. Val. Maybe she created this to shield herself from Mr. Williams?” He turned to Dr. Monisht.

“I do not believe that could have occurred.”

“I agree.” Dr. Summers added. “Although our records show that Mr. Williams had been admitted around that same time, they had little to no knowledge of each other. No interaction.”

“Marcus’ schedule at that time would have prohibited even concurring lunch schedules. His first week with us included meetings with his attorney and probation officer.” Dr. Monisht concluded.

“We’ll return to possible treatments we can utilize for Ms. Valencia in a moment, Claire. We’ve gotten off-track of what this meeting is for today.”

Other Stories: Sanity

I want to apologize because this could have been better, but I had to break half-way to do my school finals. Inspiration didn’t come back to me until tonight so the story itself sounds half-assed even though it’s moving where I kind of want it – more or less.

Today’s picture is courtesy of the Center for Advanced Research on Language Acquisition at I think it’s one of their clip arts.

I do want to thank the people who are following this story-line. Again, I hope not to offend anyone by it.

“I’m a little disappointed, Marcus.”

“How so doc?”

Marcus was sitting on the couch, the same couch that Val had been sitting on the day before, although he actually didn’t know it. Dr. Thomas was doing his counseling today for some unknown reason that Marcus didn’t really care about.

“I heard there was an altercation yesterday between you and Val.”

Marcus grinned and shifted on the couch, trying to get comfortable. “Well I wouldn’t call it an altercation doc.”

“One of our orderlies filed an incident report.”

“What? No wait! I didn’t … “

“Val read over it and signed it.” He pulled out a paper and handed it to Marcus.

He blinked and tensed, then sat up a little straighter as he took the paper and looked over it. “She … said I assaulted her?”

“Thankfully those aren’t the words she used, but …”

“Well, what words did she use?”

Dr. Thomas was looking over notes written in Marcus’s file that pertained to Val. “She said she wants that … well I won’t say exactly what she said … “

“You can cuss Doc.”

“That’s not the point … she doesn’t want you near her. And I have to keep my patients safe and on track with their progress. You’re the first person since Jan who’s touched her and I honestly don’t want another Jan incident.”

“Who is this Jan? She mentioned her yesterday and … someone else.”

Dr. Thomas cleared his throat. “You don’t have to worry about the other person – that’s not the point though. We’ve changed your lunch time…”

“Aww Doc! C’mon.”

“No come-ons. She may not have immediate family, but someone is paying for her to remain here…”

“She’s a prisoner?”

The doctor sighed. “I mean her finances are being taken care of by an unknown benefactor, and I don’t think they’d appreciate knowing that she was attacked by another patient.”

“Jan attacked her?”

“You know better than that Marcus.”

“Hey Doc, listen, I would never hurt her …”

“You have made progress since you first arrived.”

Marcus frowned, it wasn’t what he meant, but he continued. “… if she’s a danger or is the cause of danger…”

“I assure you that she’s no danger to anyone, provided she’s left alone.”

“Doc, I’ve never met anyone like her before.”

“Marcus I’m sure there are plenty of blue-eyed girls in your life. But as it stands, we cannot allow you to jeopardize either of your treatments. The decision stands.”

He huffed. “Fine. So now what?”

“Now we get down to business …”

Marcus blinked at the sound of loud snapping and then flinched seeing thick, stubby fingers so close to his face. “What the fu … Ray-Ray!”

“Hey! You the one MIA here man.” The big man said as he lowered his hands. “You are supposed to be here to get better, not get worse! Sull’s trying his damnest to keep things under wraps.”

Marcus was walking outside on the campus grounds with his best friend, Ray Reynolds – Ray-Ray – one of the few unsupervised visits he was allowed to have. He knew Ray-Ray had been talking about what was going on in the real world but his thoughts were constantly drawn back to his session this morning with Dr. Thomas. “Wait, what about Sull?”

Ray-Ray looked around like he was expecting an attack. “TMZ man! They either have a man here on the inside or they’re paying someone bucks to find out shit on you!” His voice wasn’t as loud as it had been a minute ago but it wasn’t exactly hushed either.

“So much for doctor-patient confidentiality.”

“It’s like the song says, man. It’s all about the money, money, money!” Despite the fact he was obnoxious at times, Ray-Ray actually had a good singing voice.

“Why you picked sports over singing I’ll never know.”

Ray-Ray flipped him off. “I am being serious, man! Word gets out you assaulted a patient …”

“I didn’t assault her! Or anyone! I …” Marcus looked down. “I … just … I wanted to talk to her.”

“Ladies’ man you are not. Just lay low, stay clean! Be good and you have a shot at getting out early. Then you can have your pick of any woman.”

Marcus stopped walking and looked at his friend. It was nearly time to go back in for dinner and then evening group sessions. “I … you’re right, man, you’re right. I should just ignore everything here and …”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, don’t pull that mush shit on me. I’ve known you too long. Just behave!”

“Sull ever gonna come see me?”

Ray-Ray shrugged. “Not his cup of tea I guess. Says his main job’s getting the bad press off you. There are still three teams interested in you and he wants to make sure that don’t shrink.”

Marcus nodded. “You got practice tomorrow.”

“Oh fuck! Yeah! Thanks!” Ray-Ray looked at his watch. “I gots ta go! But hey! I’ll be back again, soon. I promise! Oh yeah! I brought you something from Mom … had to leave it with Nurse Ratchett.”

“Thanks, man. I owe you.” They fist-bumped and did a hand-shake they had been doing since the second grade. Then Marcus watched his best friend head out of the garden area – the only place they had been allowed to walk – and disappear. He sighed, and turned to look at the building. “Val, you are gonna be the death of me.” He said softly before he walked inside.

Short Stories: Savior

Giving credit where credit is due, today’s pic is entitled Dying Love from Jackie at

Don’t worry.


It was dead silence when Lucifer walked into view. Metatron walked over to and stood next to him, turned his head and softly said something to him that none could hear. Lucifer’s eyes burned with demonic fire but remained soft.

Contrary to belief, Lucifer is beautiful. God had gifted him with every beauty known; his fall didn’t diminish him as one would think. Karen knew the Terran stories were the way they were only to distinguish between their definitions of good and evil.

The dark prince smiled, then turned his attention to Konnor.

Karen shakily got to her feet as she watched Lucifer walk towards the Lowly and she made up her mind. He was about ten paces from her twin when she openly stated: “Wait! I come to you freely, a willing soul in place of one you already own.”

He didn’t stop walking, but slowed and turned towards her.

The Forgotten raised her trembling chin and stood as still as she could as she heard the protests behind her. She gave them no heed, merely watched the devil approach her.

With a nod from their dark lord, Asmodeus and Mammon released Konnor, then moved away. He ran up to, grabbed her and turned her to face him. “Are you crazy? What are you hoping…?”

She smiled softly and placed a finger to his lips but said nothing. His eyes emitted the fear they had been since he first opened them after they arrived but now concern and anger mixed within. He wouldn’t let her do this.

Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to have a choice. Konnor was knocked to his knees and watched silently as Karen was pulled out of his grasp, letting Lucifer sweep her up in his arms. It felt both right and wrong but he merely stood up silently under the gaze of the one he surrendered to as master.

They moved away from him, out of arm’s reach and though their words to each other were hushed, he could hear them.

“You give yourself to me.”

“For him, I do.”

“Of your own free will?”


“You are lost.” The dark lord hissed.

“I am not afraid.” She responded.

Occasionally Konnor’s eyes were drawn across from his position to where The Beloved stood, noticing how dark Metatron’s eyes were as he quietly watched them.

The movements were perfect as demon lord pulled her in close to him, almost like a dance before them. Although he couldn’t see them, Konnor could feel other Lowly approach. He knew what was happening. He knew but couldn’t move even with his entire being screaming for him to intercede. Would Karen become Lowly, like him, like the others who refused to show themselves anymore because of the guilt they felt at being lured?

All could be lured to Hell, save God.

But for the Forgotten, to be lured could be a death sentence. He was sure of this. When he surrendered he was a Guardian and he accepted it; it was his choice to leave Heaven, to become Lowly.

And he now remembered why.

But she didn’t leave, she chose to replace him. She did this for him, for the Saviors and The Beloved. It was her way of trying to rescue The Beloved, but she was mainly doing this for him. Because she loved him. Things didn’t change.

The seduction would be complete, but it shouldn’t be. When he looked down, looked away – and he had to pull his eyes away – he saw himself trembling. He had to do something.

Only what could he do? He was sworn to do Lucifer’s bidding. He brought her here – even if she argued it was her choice to believe she brought him. He whispered her name as he heard her breath escape her lips. “Don’t do this.”

She smiled softly.

He shut his eyes, not wanting to look, not wanting to know what she did, but he felt the arms, hands and fingers of the others touch and move him. Opening his eyes he saw her now on the ground with The Fallen One kneeling beside her, hovering, hunched over her, drawing her soul into him and into the depths of his innermost torturous sections of his home.

He looked again at Metatron, his eyes almost pleading when he saw The Beloved looking at him. “Do something!” No voice left him; all were silent as their lord feasted.

“What would you have me do, Lowly. She chose this, as you did before her. Proof that there is no love.” Heaven’s Second turned away from the scene.

He heard the sound first. “Good-bye.”

Then he heard Lucifer. “You are released, once Lowly. Go back to God, if you dare.”

Suddenly he felt her, around him, within him. He could feel her breath, smell her essence and see her eyes. As the others released him he felt his knees give way and he sank to the ground. When he looked back, Lucifer was gone as were all of the other Lowly. Only Metatron remained.

She laid there still, her body almost fragile. He got up as quickly, albeit awkwardly, as he could, ran towards and skidded next to her. He then picked her up in his arms. She was there, but gone.

He cried out her name as he held her tight against him, wishing he could will her back to him.


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