BARomero's Stories

Death... Plus One

2008-07-19T13:11:05Z

“You’re joking, right?” I asked. “You want to die?”

She shook her head, her hair fluttering about her head like wings. “I just want to know Andre will be all right.”

“This is highly irregular,” I said. “Anyway, I was just planning on quitting. I was going to the plant to turn in my notice and my clearance codes.”

I tried to leave, but she blocked my path. Oh sure, I could have gone right through her, but for some reason, I didn’t want to. She just stood there, watching me expectantly.

“What’s your name?”

“Grace,” she said, “Grace Robinson.”

That explained it! Jeff—or should I say Geoffrey Reed… this may work out for you after all.

“What the hell,” I smiled, “What can they do? Fire me?”

Haleakala

2008-07-18T19:30:46Z

I had just arrived from the mainland, so it felt like nine when the phone rang at 3 AM. It was the front desk, telling me that the van had arrived.

The van was in the front lot, with a trailer hitched. I boarded the back of the van and off we went.

As we drove up the winding two-lane road, the vegetation around us began to shrink, from big thick trees, to smaller pines, to shrubs and grasses, and finally to bare rock.

We arrived near the summit, and our driver began setting up our bikes while we walked to the crater’s rim. And waited. I watched my breath escape in little clouds and tried to remind myself where I was.

Soon the horizon changed from purple to red to dark orange. A bright orange line appeared above the clouds and I experienced what Mark Twain called “the sublimest sight” he’d ever witnessed.

Having seen sunrise from the top of the world, there was now no place to go but down.

Cpl. Arthur Eisenstein: After Action Report (8)

2008-07-17T03:57:42Z

FORM DD -619 – After Action Report
Lt. Ryan S. Healy, reporting (continued)

0520 HRS , medic conducts field examination of Cpl. Eisenstein and declares him fit to return to duty. Eisenstein dons daylight gear in time for sunup.

In light of these events, I have ordered cedar stakes discontinued as field equipment for the following reasons:

(1) I suspect that they are ineffective in their intended purpose.

(2) Through his actions and conduct, and through interviews with other team members, Cpl. Eisenstein has earned the trust of this unit.

I further recommend that Cpl. Eisenstein be awarded both the Purple Heart and the Distinguished Service Cross for his action in preventing an ambush of our unit by superior forces. When asked if he could accept DSC , or if such decoration might constitute a harmful religious icon for him, Eisenstein produced a gold Star of David on a chain around his neck.

Cpl. Arthur Eisenstein: After Action Report (7)

2008-07-17T03:30:01Z

FORM DD -619 – After Action Report
Lt. Ryan S. Healy, reporting (continued)

0315 HRS , Sgt. James “Chappy” Carson alerts me of Cpl. Eisenstein’s disappearance. We wake rest of unit and conduct search for Eisenstein.

It does not take long to pick up his trail. Cpl. “Hawkeye” Pierce spots first body in long grass, the dessicated remains of a VC soldier. Other VC are found nearby, similarly drained of all blood. We collect their gear as we come across each enemy combatant.

0505 HRS , and thirty-six bodies later, we catch up to Shadow. He has just finished feeding on thirty-seventh Cong, and appears in good condition, save for puncture wound in chest which already appears to be repairing itself.

When asked how he acquired injury, Eisenstein states he took a bayonet from VC. No such weapon was found among dead. I notice that Chappy’s cedar stake is missing from his gear belt, and he is unable to account for its loss. Shadow, however, reiterates that his injury was inflicted by, “Charlie, not Chappy.”

Cpl. Arthur Eisenstein: Viet Nam Vampire (6)

2008-07-14T20:24:31Z

I’m as surprised as Chappy, as I find the strength to pull myself to my feet. His eyes go wide as I extract the stake from my chest and fling it away.

So wooden stakes through the heart don’t kill vampires. I’ll have to write a book on that someday.

But not today. Right now, I want him to run. Rage begins to boil within me, and all restraint seems to melt like Saigon butter. Chappy sees the change in my expression and gets the message. He takes off into the jungle.

I give him a few moments to be sporting, then fly ahead of him, stopping directly in his path. The heel of my palm cracks against Chappy’s nose, dropping him on his ass. I’m quickly on top of him. I grab his hair and pull his head to the side, exposing his neck.

He’s crying, “Don’t… Don’t…”

Then I hear them. They’re still a way off, but they’re all around and closing. I pull Chappy to his feet.

“I could’ve had you,” I growl, “Any time I wanted.”

I send him crashing through a bamboo grove, then take off into the jungle.

Cpl. Arthur Eisenstein: Viet Nam Vampire (5)

2008-07-14T18:04:26Z

Doc starts to head back to camp, but he pauses long enough to say, “Be cool. He’s really a good guy.”

I’m not sure if he’s talking to Chappy or to me.

We’re finally alone. Chappy slides the stake from his gear belt. He brandishes it like a dagger.

“I don’t want to fight you,” I warn him.

“Good,” he smiles. “Then this’ll be easy.”

He swings at me in a wide arc. I jump back, avoiding his strike. My gut tells me to fight back. I can easily put him down, but I practice restraint. I dodge his attacks and limit my attacks to verbal jabs.

“What is your problem with me, Chappy?” I ask. “That I’m a vampire or that I’m a hebe?”

He doesn’t answer, but keeps swinging away. He’s smart enough to avoid direct eye contact, so I can’t use the mesmer to put an end to this.

Then I screw up. Chappy stabs at me, but I spin to my right to avoid contact. He catches my sleeve with his left, pulls me in. And plunges the stake through my chest.

I stagger back and drop to my knees.

“That… hurts…”

Cpl. Arthur Eisenstein: Viet Nam Vampire (4)

2008-07-13T06:39:32Z

“A creamsicle?” Doc’s interest is piqued.

“It’s an ice cream soda,” I explain. “A scoop of vanilla over an orange soda. There was this drugstore over on Stillwell that made the best, and I’ve been craving one ever since we got to this steam box.”

“That does sound good.”

“The only thing is,” I continue, “Since I’ve been turned, my body can’t process them any more. So all I’ve got left is a fading memory of spooning up the foam from the bottom of a paper cup, as I walk down the boardwalk toward the Wonder Wheel.”

“I miss spaghetti and meatballs,” Doc confesses.

We continue on the trail reminiscing about the things that always brought us comfort before the war… rooftop barbecues, watching Notre Dame football, good jokes and better yet, awful ones… and Anna Gertsman under the pier on a Saturday night. We realize there just isn’t much different about the two of us.

“Get some rest, Doc. I’m relieving you,” Chappy stands there, one hand resting on his cedar stake.

Oy vey, I think.

Cpl. Arthur Eisenstein: Viet Nam Vampire (3)

2008-07-13T06:02:26Z

As we make our first circle, Doc slowly drops back behind me, until he’s on my rear flank by a full fifteen feet. I stop and turn. He freezes in his tracks, but I can hear his gear rattle as he trembles in the dark.

“Come on, Doc, you’re slowing us down,” I whisper just loud enough to wake the dead..

“Don’t worry,” he whispers back, a shakiness in his voice. “I’ve got your six.”

“I’m not going to bite you,” I try to reassure him.

“I know.”

He looks like he’s going to bolt, so I do what I promised myself I wouldn’t do. I use the mesmer on Doc. We lock eyes and suddenly my voice has a direct line into his brain.

”Come… here…”

His eyes are wide with fear, but he takes a step toward me. Then another. And another. I reel him in with my eyes and my mind. When he’s within arm’s reach, I turn away and schlep onward.

“Now, as I was saying, I don’t want to drink your blood,” I continue. “The truth is, what I really could go for is a creamsicle.”

From the Case Files of Celeste Bellini, Vampire Psychiatrist: The Liam O'Connor Sessions (5)

2008-07-11T00:55:22Z

It was a little after four A.M. I had just finished labeling the night’s session tapes and placed them on Clarissa’s desk to transcribe. The sun would be up in two hours and it was time to call it a night. I put on my coat and tucked two daggers into my sleeves. The infestation of stupid zombies in the city made it dangerous to walk the streets at night, even for a vampire.

I was fumbling in my purse for keys to lock up when he burst into the office. He was very tall, very handsome… and very human.

Wild-eyed, he grabbed me by the shoulders. My first instinct was to put him through the wall. My second was to pull him in and rip out his jugular. He must have sensed this, because he immediately backed off.

“Dr. Bellini,” he said at last, “You’ve got to help me!”

“Help you?” I said, recovering from the initial shock. “I don’t even know you.”

“Yes, you do. I’m one of your patients.”

“You’re mistaken. I don’t treat humans.”

“Check your records,” he persisted. “My name is Liam O’Connor.”

The Anarchy Challenge

2008-07-08T04:00:35Z

Okay, so now I’m at 150 ficlets…

What I’d like to see now from you guys are some Ficlets describing what would happen if a group suddenly found itself without any leadership. This could be any kind of group… a country, a corporation, maybe even an online writing group?

How would the remaining members of the group react? Would they step up and form the ultimate democracy? Or would it all devolve into Lord of the Flies?

Bonus points if your Ficlet is directly related to the specific situation that inspired this challenge…

The Following Ficlet Takes Place Between 10:00 PM and 11:00 PM

2008-07-07T03:24:22Z

10:02:19 PM

Twelve hours more and this little babysitting job would be over. Marcos was counting the moments. It had been a long and trying day, and Marcos was exhausted, but at the same time he couldn’t let himself wind down.

Something about this job unsettled Marcos. Not just because the kid was completely certifiable, but also because he didn’t know a thing about his employer, the Mastermind. All Marcos had on him was a phone number he could dial, and Marcos had surmised that number only led to a rerouter, rendering the Mastermind untraceable.

This didn’t sit well with him. When he took the job, it seemed like good money for a simple snatch job. But the longer it went, the greater the chance for the job to go south became. And Marcos began to realize it would be a good idea to have someone to flip on if it did.

Marcos had Guillermo check on the kid, then went into his office and logged onto his computer. He began to research the only thing he had to go on… the target: Dr. Gordon Reeves…

Two Sisters

2008-07-06T18:08:53Z

“What can we do?” Falina scratched into the dirt for her sister to read.

“The ball is about to start!” Alina acknowledged.

They sat by the pond and struggled to come to terms with their situation.

“Sister,” Alina finally said, “If you will be my face, I will be your voice.”

Falina looked to her sister, not understanding.

“You will go to the ball,” Alina explained. “I will stay outside the window. Whenever someone speaks to you, I will answer and you will move your lips along with my words.”

Falina tried to say, “yes,” but all that came out was an ear-splitting squeal.

“Let us try then,” Alina said. “Good evening, my name is Alina.”

Falina mouthed along perfectly. Then she wrote in the dirt, “Why are we using your name?”

Alina took Falina’s hand and hurried down the road. “We’ve no time to argue about details, Falina. Let us go!”

Cubes

2008-07-05T02:47:56Z

I don’t have bookshelves in the traditional sense, but the walls of my basement are lined with wire cubes, stacked in various configurations. It really is beginning to resemble a Habitrail for Humanity.

One dozen cubes house my comic collection, polybagged and kept in file boxes. Most are Marvel and DC, although a few indies are in there as well. Most come from the mid 70’s through the mid 90’s, though a some are newer and a handful are older.

Three cubes hold my college texts, heavy biology and chemistry books from when I was pre-med, film and mass media books when I realized I didn’t want to be pre-med.

Three cubes hold screenplays, bound with brass brads, their titles on the spine written in black sharpie. Some I’ve written, most were written by others, but I’ve written notes in the margins of all of them.

Two more cubes hold a hodgepodge of bios, histories, Complete Idiot’s Guides, and Dummies books of various subjects.

And then, there’s my leisure reading…

A Good Walk...

2008-07-01T11:50:35Z

The sun was hung high o’er a cloudless blue sky
Green grass rolled over the hills
And nestled away in the sycamore trees
Were the songbird’s echoing trills

The lake was shimmering with sparkling lights
As a cool breeze blew in from the east
The sand on the beach was silken and white
Not a grain out of place in the least

Would this pastoral scene ease my poor soul?
Would my stroll bring peace to my mind?
Alas no! For I had bogeyed the fourth
And now I was three strokes behind…

B.A. Romero's Monster Mash-Up Challenge

2008-06-29T22:12:52Z

145 Ficlets, a random time for a challenge, but here it is anyway…

So the way this challenge goes is this… Take the characters from one ficlet, story, book, movie, or show, and place them in the setting from another ficlet, story, book, movie or show. How would these characters react in that situation?

As an example, I’ve included a mash-up I wrote earlier, including the crew from Ocean’s 11 in the Die Hard setting. Certainly Danny Ocean and the boys would have handled the robbery of the Nakatomi building with more finesse than Hans Gruber did, and they might even get out the door without John McClaine ever having gotten involved. (Incidentally, if you want to sequel that mash-up, feel free)

So… who would you like to see in another setting?