The Last Breath

THE LAST BREATH

 

Lifeless. Not a spark in his eye. Not a movement of his face or body. I bit my lip. God, why?

“Open the door.” I was tired of looking through a one-sided window. Looking at monitors.

“Ma’am, he’s contaminated, if you go in there you’ll–”

“Open the door.” I said again.

The doctor sighed. “Alright. Just remember: you’re putting your own life at risk here.”

I glanced through the window at the man lying on the cot. “I’m already dying, Doctor.”

The door slid open and I stepped through. The white featureless walls glowed with ambient light. Tucked into one corner was the cot. On it, my fiancé. Aidan. I walked across the small room, my shoes making a quiet clicking sound on the cold floor. I knelt beside the cot and touched his hand. It was cold.

I leaned forward and kissed his fingers. Pressed them against my cheek. Held his hand until I fell asleep.

 

 

A high pitched beep woke me up. A computer screen by the door was flashing. I blinked. My eyes focused.

Are you ready to leave?

“I’m not leaving.”

The screen blanked.

Flashed.

Why?

“Because, Doctor, he is the most important thing in my life.”

He’s going to die. Move on.

I ignored the screen, the window. I gently lifted Aidan and sat down at the head of the cot. I held him close, letting his body rest on my lap, but I held his head to my chest. I closed my eyes. All I could see was him running around. Laughing. Smiling. I trembled, my body shaking. It hurt so much. But I couldn’t get away from the memories.

Tears stung my eyes as I gently nuzzled his hair. It smelled like cinnamon. It always smelled liked cinnamon.

Cinnamon. He loved cinnamon. He smelled like it. He even tasted like it.

I squeezed my eyes shut. That first kiss…

 

 

A knock at the glass. They had turned the polarization off.

“Yvonne. Please. Come out of there before you catch the virus. You might have it already, but… come out before its too late.” The doctor was standing with two men in black suits.

I looked away and stroked Aidan’s face. Caressed his lips with my fingers.

“I’m not going anywhere.” I whispered. “I’ll stay here forever. Until you go, my love. When you go… I… go.”

“Yvonne.”

“But not until then.” I looked up and glared at the doctor. “Not until then.”

The window glazed over again, becoming white, just like the walls.

I rocked slowly back and forth. Sang softly his favorite song.

“Stars shine bright… this night… don’t know how… or when…”

The doctor. The suits. No one. None of them could ever understand. They would never feel the ache that crashed against my heart, wave after wave. Agony. Helplessness.

Why Aidan? Why him?

I tried took a deep, though quivering, breath.

Over six billion people in the world. And the one dying right now… is the only one I have ever loved.

“But here we are… never should have been… but who cares… not me… and I pray not you…”

I looked into Aidan’s eyes. They never closed. I had closed them once. But they had slowly opened again. Stayed open.

Lifeless.

There was nothing in his eyes. Nothing.

The ache in my heart reminded me of how much used to be there.

I placed my hand on his chest. I could feel his heartbeat. Barely. Each time his heart beat, it seemed that it was a fraction longer before the next each time.

 

 

It had stopped. His heart. I lay still, my head resting against his chest. No.

No.

No.

No.

Beat.

Beat, heart. Beat.

My own heart beat faster. But it hurt. It felt like it was caving in. Like my chest was constricting, crushing it.

“No.” I whispered, tears flowing out from under my closed eyelids.

I sat up. No longer did his chest rise and fall with each labored breath.

No more did his heart beat, ever so slow, but still ever so much alive.

His eyes were closed.

I stood. Staggered to the door. I was weak. I didn’t know how long it had been. Several days at least, since I forced the doctor to let me in. Several days since Aidan had said he had a headache.

I slumped against the wall by the door. “He’s gone.” I whispered.

The door slid open.

The doctor grabbed me. He wore a contamination suit. So did the nurses who were heading for Aidan’s body.

They had a stretcher.

I knew what they would do. I had to stop them. I couldn’t let them burn his body, destroy his ashes with some chemical. I had to stop them.

I struggled against the doctor’s grip, trying to jump forward, to run. But I couldn’t.

“No! You can’t do that to him!”

A prick. I looked down at my arm. A needle. I followed it up to the syringe. To the hand. To the doctor.

And passed out.

 

 

 

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Nyctophobia

Nyctophobia

 

 

He couldn’t swallow. It felt like his heart was choking him. He wrapped his arms over his head, hands curled into fists, squeezed so tight his fingernails dug into his palms, cutting through the skin. The blood came fast as first, but it slowed to a steady drip.

The rustle of feathers. He screamed. Not the angel. Not the angel. Anything but the evil angel.

It loved the dark. It ruled the dark.

The dark hated him. The dark hurt him.

A single feather brushed across his back.

He screamed.

“AHHHHHHHH!”

 

——

 

The Professor turned away from the conference screen.

“Alright.” He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “You’ve convinced me. You’re completely demented, Grayle.”

Jackson Grayle grinned. “Thank you, Professor.”

The Professor glanced back at the still frame of Subject 135. The frozen face was not a mask of terror, though some might call it that. But it wasn’t a mask. The Professor could tell that. It was pure terror. A true phobia.

Subject 135 had died after that night. The only cause of death that the medical team could offer was death by fear.

“You’ve also convinced me that Project Evil Angel worked.”

Jackson nodded, a small smile on his lips.

“But I want to ask you one thing.”

“Yes, Professor?”

He leaned back in his chair and looked hard at Grayle. “Why an angel?”

The Professor didn’t like the glint in Jackson Grayle’s eyes as he replied. It was too cheerful. Too innocent.

“Because angels are the guardians. And when the guardians turn on the helpless, well. Terror will ensue. And no better time for terror than the night.”

Short story – Where Angels Dare To Tread

A short story I wrote today. More of a snippet story really.

————————————————————————————————

Adarel trembled. His wings shook. He was weak. Too weak.

He raises his head and looked above. “Almighty One, I pray, grant me Your grace.”

The demonlord circled him. “He will not hear. He was abandoned you, angel. You remained faithful to Him, and he abandons you. That is His way. But it is not too late; the Prince of Darkness is merciful – join us.”

Adarel used his sword to push himself off the ground. “I will forever stay true to the Almighty God.”

The demon threw back his head and laughed. “If all of those that are His faithful are as weak as you, than I know not why the Dragon should not assault and take the Heavens by force.” His red eyes glowed with an eldritch light. Hate and lust shone from them.

A gentle breeze blew over Adarel, and he felt strength flow into him as if it were a soothing stream.

“You can never win. Even against one as weak as I.”

The demon hoisted his great axe aloft. “Yet I have already defeated you. You have tread where you should not have. There are no Believers here to give you strength with their prayers. This is our land, a land consumed in darkness. You will fall here, Faithful of the Most High.”

“You will be banished into outer darkness for all eternity, here, Fallen of the Dragon.”

The demonlord roared in anger and leaped forward, his wings flaring, rushing down upon the lone angelic warrior.

But Adarel was no longer weak.

The demon was wrong.

There were Believers. And they were praying.

His sword glowed with holy light as he deflected the first blow of the new assault.

“I have tread where none should have.” He pressed forward, turning his defense into assault. “For you can never see all, as the Almighty sees.”

The demon howled in pain as Adarel’s sword cut into the flesh of his leg.

“I have tread where no angel dares, for there are Believers here. And I have brought them Word from He who sits on the Throne.”

The fallen threw himself forward attacking with all his might, desperate. But the prayers of the righteous had strengthened Adarel. The grace of the Most High guided him. He would deliver his message to the Beloved Bride, and this demon could not stop the Will of the Father from being carried out.

He raises his voice and praised the Father as he delivered the final blow.

“I am a Messenger of the Almighty God, and I shall tread where no other dares.”

Starless and an update

So, what am I up to? Well, beyond the usual, I have started the world development for a totally new kind of story for me: a sci-fi fantasy setting.

Yeah, a world that has both fantastic and science fiction elements. It’s kinda hard to work on. But I think it will be very cool, and also fun.

I have been working on it for a few weeks now. And the world, as well as the story is intriguing. And the characters.. oh wow.. What a cast, if I say so myself. The conflict is gonna be high.

I am trying to finish up the novella, Burning Cold, but am still kinda stuck on it, something I hope to remedy this week, Lord willing.

Song writing, as always, is fun. 🙂 getting close to 40 in number, I believe.

If you have any questions, just want to chat, have an art commission, or anything, please, comment or email me.

God bless,
~Daniel
Isaiah 40:31

The opening of Burning Cold – a new novel of mine

I am presently writing chapter five of Burning Cold, but I thought I would post the first part of chapter one. 🙂

—–

Chapter One

 

I never dream. Any dream. I don’t have illusions in the night, and I don’t waste my time thinking about what might be in the future.

My grandmother says that you should always plan ahead, but my grandfather has always told me that it is the here and the now that matters. Today you could help someone. Tomorrow it will be too late for anything.

I don’t know if I’m ready for the now, but I feel that I will never be ready for the future.

###

Screams filled the air. I tried to turn, but didn’t move. Just my head; that’s all I could manage. But even then, all I saw was the walls of a basket.

I was in a basket. A weaved box? No. It was a large basket.

It was dark, but I could see the glow of fire. At least fire meant warmth, and not cold. I hate the cold.

A girl ran towards me, looming above my sight and the basket in which I was prisoner, a giantess figure made fearsome by the glow of the fires that lit up the night sky.

I heard a baby cry. It came from beside me. No. Above me? Below, perhaps? I couldn’t find the baby.

The girl reached down, tears of fear staining her face. “Koresh!” She cried.

The pillow was wet. Had grandfather dumped another bucket of water on my head to make sure I was awake in time for work?

My head dropped to the side and I stared out the loft window. The sky was still filled with stars, and the sun had not yet looked with its bright face over the horizon.

I sat up, breathing slowly, and ran my hands through my hair. It was wet. I felt my face. Hot.

Did I have fever? My hands were shaking.

Maybe I did.

I blinked. Wait.

I dreamed. But what had I dreamed?

With a sigh I dropped back onto my wet pillow. Making a disgusted sound I flipped it over to the dry side. I rolled over onto my stomach and tucked my pillow under my chest. First time I dream since I can remember and I can’t remember the dream? That’s just great.

But someone said my name. And it hadn’t been cold there. I knew that. So. They knew me. And it wasn’t here, in Cree, in the mountains.

I tried to settle back in. I was going to have a long day of work here in a few hours. I needed my rest.

Who would know me? I’ve never been anywhere but here, with grandfather and grandmother. I—no… go to sleep, you idiot.

I rolled back over and dropped my head onto the pillow.

Sleep.

Sleep.

Sleep.

“Oh blast.” I sat up and swung my legs off the side of the bed. I wasn’t ever going to get back to sleep tonight.

 

TSM update

Okay, quick update on TSM. I’m planning on getting back to writing on it this fall.. hopefully I’ll be able to do weekly or every other week parts, which will hopefully be of decent lengths, versus the snippets I was doing before.

I’ve been developing the world quite a bit, and have named it. The world in which TSM takes place is called “Ashanara”. Its turning into a very interesting place. I foresee more than just this story taking place. As a matter of fact, I might as well tell you all this, if TSM turns out well, there might be two more books to follow in the world of Ashanara, though the present cast of characters will not be in it, though in a round about way they would play a role in the story.

Anyway, that’s it for now. Thought I’d let you all know that I’m still working on it! Don’t give up on me yet. 😉

~Daniel

The Seventh Master – 38

Kasheyra stared at him. This had happened, or something like it, back when they had first met. Then, Val had created the wall that protected everyone from the strange wave of fire.
Val’s hand closed into a fist, and he turned, standing, moving his arms in an intricate pattern. Slowly at first, the ground around him, and then the whole cavern, smoothed. Melethgorod started rebuilding itself. Or… Val was rebuilding it. Kasheyra could just stare, wide eyed as it happened.

******
Okay, so… I’m going to post this snippet, so everyone knows what is happening. 😛
I’m very busy at the moment with school and things, and I haven’t had much time for writing. I’ll try to pick back up on blogging (actual blogging) and TSM soon, though! 🙂 Promise!

God bless!
~Daniel