Alexander Collas's Blog
April 12, 2020
Into the Wild - Chapter 8
“It’s real, Devon,” said Matt, smiling. “Well, it’s as true for me as it is for you. I met with Eluard. We talked, and I picked you, which is who they already had in mind.”
“So, it’s real?” said Devon with a look of hopeful disbelief. Then his eyebrow lifted, and he tilted his head slightly, “You’re willing to leave everything behind and take this on faith?”
Matt shrugged. “Isn’t that all we have in the planning of our future, faith? In ourselves, in what we know, and those around us that we trust? I don’t have anything left here. Moreover, if this is genuine and really does happen, it sounds like the life you and I have both always wanted. It’d be a life full of adventure. Even if we die because of that adventure, at least we got to live it. I’d prefer to die doing something I’ve always dreamed of rather than just sitting here the rest of my life waiting for that day to come.”
“He said we would have powers?”
“Yes, as he explained it to me, we’d have a set of new skills. He said it’d be like D&D in that sense. That we’d come in mid-level, not start at the beginning. Anyway, he can answer this a lot better than I can. I need you to say you formally accept his offer, and then we both will see where it goes from there.”
“I already did. Hell yes, I’ll do it.”
“Then, please join me,” they heard a male voice call from the other room. “Bring the fries, I don’t get fries often,” he added. They walked around the kitchen corner, and Devon froze just inside the door. There was the man from his dreams, sitting on the couch.
Matt turned to his friend. “Devon, this is Eluard. Eluard, this is Devon.”
The old man leaned forward and filled the three crystal goblets sitting on the table from a dusty, old bottle. Both the tray and glasses were all far older and ornate than anything Matt owned.
Handing one to Devon, Eluard said, “So you’ve accepted. Good. I think the two of you will offset each other well. Here is what will happen now. Over the next few days, you both will need to get your affairs in order. As I’ve said before, nothing will be going with you. You’re also not allowed to leave any notes or other indications as to what has happened to you. This world must think you just vanished.”
“But what about my family?” asked Devon.
“They’ll think you’ve moved away. We will plant a story that should ensure they don’t suffer unduly. In about four days we’ll return to each of you individually and work on your transition. That night after we’ve finished with the preparations, you’ll go to bed, like normal, and when you awake, you’ll be on Dystopia.”
Standing, Eluard finished his wine and took a hand full of fries, saying, “I’ve left you several bottles of wine. Enjoy yourselves and come to terms with your future. Friday night, four days from now, I’ll visit you, Matsugo, and Narod will visit you, Devon. Until then do what is needed to separate yourself from this world and your current life.”
“So, it’s real?” said Devon with a look of hopeful disbelief. Then his eyebrow lifted, and he tilted his head slightly, “You’re willing to leave everything behind and take this on faith?”
Matt shrugged. “Isn’t that all we have in the planning of our future, faith? In ourselves, in what we know, and those around us that we trust? I don’t have anything left here. Moreover, if this is genuine and really does happen, it sounds like the life you and I have both always wanted. It’d be a life full of adventure. Even if we die because of that adventure, at least we got to live it. I’d prefer to die doing something I’ve always dreamed of rather than just sitting here the rest of my life waiting for that day to come.”
“He said we would have powers?”
“Yes, as he explained it to me, we’d have a set of new skills. He said it’d be like D&D in that sense. That we’d come in mid-level, not start at the beginning. Anyway, he can answer this a lot better than I can. I need you to say you formally accept his offer, and then we both will see where it goes from there.”
“I already did. Hell yes, I’ll do it.”
“Then, please join me,” they heard a male voice call from the other room. “Bring the fries, I don’t get fries often,” he added. They walked around the kitchen corner, and Devon froze just inside the door. There was the man from his dreams, sitting on the couch.
Matt turned to his friend. “Devon, this is Eluard. Eluard, this is Devon.”
The old man leaned forward and filled the three crystal goblets sitting on the table from a dusty, old bottle. Both the tray and glasses were all far older and ornate than anything Matt owned.
Handing one to Devon, Eluard said, “So you’ve accepted. Good. I think the two of you will offset each other well. Here is what will happen now. Over the next few days, you both will need to get your affairs in order. As I’ve said before, nothing will be going with you. You’re also not allowed to leave any notes or other indications as to what has happened to you. This world must think you just vanished.”
“But what about my family?” asked Devon.
“They’ll think you’ve moved away. We will plant a story that should ensure they don’t suffer unduly. In about four days we’ll return to each of you individually and work on your transition. That night after we’ve finished with the preparations, you’ll go to bed, like normal, and when you awake, you’ll be on Dystopia.”
Standing, Eluard finished his wine and took a hand full of fries, saying, “I’ve left you several bottles of wine. Enjoy yourselves and come to terms with your future. Friday night, four days from now, I’ll visit you, Matsugo, and Narod will visit you, Devon. Until then do what is needed to separate yourself from this world and your current life.”
March 29, 2020
Into the Wild - Chapter 7
Chapter 7
Matt saw Devon several times over the next week and a half and each time found it hard to hide his excitement. Devon, of course, noticed and kept pushing, trying to find out what his friend was concealing from him. Why he always looked like he was on the verge of asking something. With frustration, Matt kept thinking, “Because I am.” He wanted to know if his friend was having the special dreams yet and, if so, how were they going.
For the longest time, nothing seemed different, even to the point that Matt had started to think that Eluard had changed his mind. Just as he was about to give up, on the eleventh day while they were having lunch, Matt noticed Devon was a bit more preoccupied than usual. Looking across the table, Matt prodded, “You seriously look deep in thought today, what's up?”
Shaking his head, Devon said, “I don’t know. I’ve not been sleeping very well.”
“Really? Why? What’s been keeping you up? You normally don’t have problems sleeping; do you?”
“No, I’ve been having bad dreams… well, not bad, more disturbing. They’re too enjoyable. I don’t want to wake up.”
“Too enjoyable? Explain?”
“I keep dreaming I’m living in another world, one like in the fantasy novels we read.” Looking down, picking at his food, he continued, “With my past and well, you know, there are so many things about this life that haven’t turned out as I’d wanted. I feel like not only is this,” pointing to his body, “not me, but also like my whole existence has been in the wrong place and time. Of course, with there being nothing I can do about it, I’ve always pushed these feeling aside, now these dreams have caused them to resurface with a new intensity.”
For the rest of lunch, Matt listened as Devon poured out his heart. He kept quiet since he was under strict instructions not to reveal his knowledge until certain things had occurred. He and Devon had been friends since childhood and Matt knew the hardships Devon’s life had presented. It broke his heart not to be able to say anything. He did, however, gently prod his friend in the direction he thought Devon should go. Little things, like talking about how cool the dreams sounded. What it’d be like to live this new life. How wonderful it must be, at least in his dreams, to escape his current life for another with more adventure.
By the end of the lunch, Devon was feeling better. Much of the anxiety was gone, but the excitement had only increased. Matt prayed it had been enough to push his friend over the edge.
That afternoon and into the evening Matt continued sorting through his own life. After his conversations at lunch, he knew the time would soon come for him to leave the life he’d known for a new one of risk and hopefully reward. It was becoming harder day by day to come to grips with the fact he was going to have to give up everything that was here in this world. He organized his thoughts like he had always done when faced with unpleasantness and began to systematically work through his house. As he found pictures or keepsakes, he said his private goodbyes to friends, family and the parts of this world he knew he was going to miss. He allowed himself to mourn when he came across something or thought of someone he was never going to see again. He embraced the process of giving up his life; it was the only way he could see to not always look back with regret.
The next morning, he awoke to find himself on the floor of his bedroom surrounded by the bits and pieces of his life. The phone rang again, and his eyes shot to his nightstand where it lay. He jumped up and ran to answer it.
“Hello?” he said though he knew already it was Devon from the identification on the phone.
“Can I come over? We need to talk.”
“Of course, when?”
“Now.” The doorbell rang. “I’m at your front door.”
“So, it seems.”
Matt raced into the living room and threw open the door to find Devon standing there with a strange look and two large sacks of burgers and fries from their favorite greasy spoon.
“Come in. What in the world has gotten you out of bed so early? And burgers at this hour?” Matt was almost bursting to find out if today was finally the day.
Devon walked past him to the kitchen table and unceremoniously dropped the sacks, then spun around and blurted, “My dream last night, something happened.”
Matt failed to hide a smile. Finally, the time had come. “What?”
Devon sorted through the sacks, divvying up the food. “A man in a white robe appeared as we were sitting under a tree.” Seeing the blank look on Matt’s face, he continued, “When I say we, I mean the other person who has been in every dream since this started. I had no idea who it was or what they looked like; their face were always obscured. Well, all that changed after the old man’s visit. He asked if I’d like to live this kind of life for real.”
Trying to stay calm, Matt asked, “What answer did you give him?”
“Hell, yes. This world sucks. With all that is going on, the politics, the people, the social issues, why wouldn’t I want to go?”
“Well, that’s quite a turnaround from yesterday when it was stressing you out.”
“It was only stressing me out because I wanted it so badly. I didn’t want to wake up each morning because my dream life was better, so much better.”
“I don’t understand what this has to do with me,” said Matt.
With a frown, Devon replied, “Well, I guess that answers my question then.”
“What question? What are you talking about, Devon?”
“The old man told me to talk to you. He said you’d explain what was going on. When he said that, the face of my traveling companion finally cleared so that I could see it. It was you.”
Matt slowly sat down and unwrapped his burger. Now that the time had come, he was scared. He tried to compose his thoughts. As much as he’d planned this moment, he discovered he wasn’t ready. “The old man told you to ask me a question, what was it?”
Devon’s eyes grew wider. “How did you know that? I didn’t mention what he told me, but yeah he said I should ask you what your recent dreams were about.”
“He said he wouldn’t talk about the blow jobs. If he told you he topped, that’s absolutely not true… well, not that true. OK, well, maybe a little.”
“What… What?” Devon’s face turned red. “He didn’t say anything about that. What the fuck?”
Matt burst out laughing, little bits of fries flying across the table. “I’m kidding. Could he possibly mean being chased by Kobolds through a field with a faceless friend until I finally wake up? Or do you mean, about the old man in green tights with snow-white, drill sergeant’s hair and matching mustache and beard? Or how he told you that you could give up this life forever and together we could go live in that other world. The two of us, and we could travel, make a life and have adventures. Is that the question he wanted you to ask me about?”
Matt smirked while watching his friend sit there with his mouth hanging open, half full of chewed burger, then added, “Um… could you chew and swallow, please. Not one of your best looks right now,” prodded Matt.
Matt saw Devon several times over the next week and a half and each time found it hard to hide his excitement. Devon, of course, noticed and kept pushing, trying to find out what his friend was concealing from him. Why he always looked like he was on the verge of asking something. With frustration, Matt kept thinking, “Because I am.” He wanted to know if his friend was having the special dreams yet and, if so, how were they going.
For the longest time, nothing seemed different, even to the point that Matt had started to think that Eluard had changed his mind. Just as he was about to give up, on the eleventh day while they were having lunch, Matt noticed Devon was a bit more preoccupied than usual. Looking across the table, Matt prodded, “You seriously look deep in thought today, what's up?”
Shaking his head, Devon said, “I don’t know. I’ve not been sleeping very well.”
“Really? Why? What’s been keeping you up? You normally don’t have problems sleeping; do you?”
“No, I’ve been having bad dreams… well, not bad, more disturbing. They’re too enjoyable. I don’t want to wake up.”
“Too enjoyable? Explain?”
“I keep dreaming I’m living in another world, one like in the fantasy novels we read.” Looking down, picking at his food, he continued, “With my past and well, you know, there are so many things about this life that haven’t turned out as I’d wanted. I feel like not only is this,” pointing to his body, “not me, but also like my whole existence has been in the wrong place and time. Of course, with there being nothing I can do about it, I’ve always pushed these feeling aside, now these dreams have caused them to resurface with a new intensity.”
For the rest of lunch, Matt listened as Devon poured out his heart. He kept quiet since he was under strict instructions not to reveal his knowledge until certain things had occurred. He and Devon had been friends since childhood and Matt knew the hardships Devon’s life had presented. It broke his heart not to be able to say anything. He did, however, gently prod his friend in the direction he thought Devon should go. Little things, like talking about how cool the dreams sounded. What it’d be like to live this new life. How wonderful it must be, at least in his dreams, to escape his current life for another with more adventure.
By the end of the lunch, Devon was feeling better. Much of the anxiety was gone, but the excitement had only increased. Matt prayed it had been enough to push his friend over the edge.
That afternoon and into the evening Matt continued sorting through his own life. After his conversations at lunch, he knew the time would soon come for him to leave the life he’d known for a new one of risk and hopefully reward. It was becoming harder day by day to come to grips with the fact he was going to have to give up everything that was here in this world. He organized his thoughts like he had always done when faced with unpleasantness and began to systematically work through his house. As he found pictures or keepsakes, he said his private goodbyes to friends, family and the parts of this world he knew he was going to miss. He allowed himself to mourn when he came across something or thought of someone he was never going to see again. He embraced the process of giving up his life; it was the only way he could see to not always look back with regret.
The next morning, he awoke to find himself on the floor of his bedroom surrounded by the bits and pieces of his life. The phone rang again, and his eyes shot to his nightstand where it lay. He jumped up and ran to answer it.
“Hello?” he said though he knew already it was Devon from the identification on the phone.
“Can I come over? We need to talk.”
“Of course, when?”
“Now.” The doorbell rang. “I’m at your front door.”
“So, it seems.”
Matt raced into the living room and threw open the door to find Devon standing there with a strange look and two large sacks of burgers and fries from their favorite greasy spoon.
“Come in. What in the world has gotten you out of bed so early? And burgers at this hour?” Matt was almost bursting to find out if today was finally the day.
Devon walked past him to the kitchen table and unceremoniously dropped the sacks, then spun around and blurted, “My dream last night, something happened.”
Matt failed to hide a smile. Finally, the time had come. “What?”
Devon sorted through the sacks, divvying up the food. “A man in a white robe appeared as we were sitting under a tree.” Seeing the blank look on Matt’s face, he continued, “When I say we, I mean the other person who has been in every dream since this started. I had no idea who it was or what they looked like; their face were always obscured. Well, all that changed after the old man’s visit. He asked if I’d like to live this kind of life for real.”
Trying to stay calm, Matt asked, “What answer did you give him?”
“Hell, yes. This world sucks. With all that is going on, the politics, the people, the social issues, why wouldn’t I want to go?”
“Well, that’s quite a turnaround from yesterday when it was stressing you out.”
“It was only stressing me out because I wanted it so badly. I didn’t want to wake up each morning because my dream life was better, so much better.”
“I don’t understand what this has to do with me,” said Matt.
With a frown, Devon replied, “Well, I guess that answers my question then.”
“What question? What are you talking about, Devon?”
“The old man told me to talk to you. He said you’d explain what was going on. When he said that, the face of my traveling companion finally cleared so that I could see it. It was you.”
Matt slowly sat down and unwrapped his burger. Now that the time had come, he was scared. He tried to compose his thoughts. As much as he’d planned this moment, he discovered he wasn’t ready. “The old man told you to ask me a question, what was it?”
Devon’s eyes grew wider. “How did you know that? I didn’t mention what he told me, but yeah he said I should ask you what your recent dreams were about.”
“He said he wouldn’t talk about the blow jobs. If he told you he topped, that’s absolutely not true… well, not that true. OK, well, maybe a little.”
“What… What?” Devon’s face turned red. “He didn’t say anything about that. What the fuck?”
Matt burst out laughing, little bits of fries flying across the table. “I’m kidding. Could he possibly mean being chased by Kobolds through a field with a faceless friend until I finally wake up? Or do you mean, about the old man in green tights with snow-white, drill sergeant’s hair and matching mustache and beard? Or how he told you that you could give up this life forever and together we could go live in that other world. The two of us, and we could travel, make a life and have adventures. Is that the question he wanted you to ask me about?”
Matt smirked while watching his friend sit there with his mouth hanging open, half full of chewed burger, then added, “Um… could you chew and swallow, please. Not one of your best looks right now,” prodded Matt.
Published on March 29, 2020 10:10
March 19, 2020
Into the Wild - Chapter 6
Eluard leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “The how is simple. You agree to take the journey, then we approach your friend and see what his feelings on the matter are.”
“What? You’re just going to walk up to Devon and say, ’So want to move to a new world that has magic?’”
The old man laughed as he took a drink from his goblet. “Not exactly, but close. We’ll approach him, in the same manner, we approached you, in his dreams. Once he’s shown interest, and we are certain he is, in fact, interested, we’ll up the intensity until he confides in you about the dreams. If that doesn’t work, we’ll let you broach the subject with him. We’ll play that part by ear. You then can break the news and let him know an offer is on the table. If I must, I’ll send him to you myself. I’ll appear in his dreams and instruct him to seek you out. Once he does, we will together get the final commitment.”
“Then poof, we’re transported?”
“There’s a little bit more preparation than that. With you traveling to a world with a wider variety of species, you will have the opportunity to change your physical appearance. We’ll also coach you on the different skills, in this case, professional and magical, you’ll need after you decide which you’re interested in. Then once all the details are hammered out, you’ll both go to bed and wake in your new home.”
“What happens once we get there, to this new place?”
“That’s entirely up to you. We’ll provide you with training specific to your race and new skill sets. We’ve found the best way to explain your new abilities is by level, as in your world’s video games. We’ll not send you in as a first level but more mid to upper range, based upon the challenges of your new world.”
Eluard looked thoughtful and turned serious. “When you wake, you’ll have all your knowledge already. Think of it like a skill you’ve not practiced for a while. Since you’ll have no practical experience, only memories, we encourage you to spend some time ‘remembering’ what you already know. We typically suggest you take a minimum of a few days and play with your abilities. You’ll wake up a short journey from one of the world’s towns in a secluded area so you can acclimate yourself. Also, and this is critical, once you wake up, we’re no longer in the picture. You’ll live or die based upon your skills.”
“So that’s all you’ll do for us?”
The old man shrugged. “We’ll give you money, clothing, a good set of weapons and things like that. Understand, however, that for a few days or weeks, based on how much time you take to practice, you’ll be rusty with everything, both physical and magical skills.”
Looking grave, Matt poured another drink. “You’re telling me this is a one-way trip, and there’s no turning back.”
“Correct. That’s the most important thing you need to get through your head. Once you’re there, no amount of begging will bring you back. Any other questions?”
“I’m not sure. Can we ask more questions once Devon is in on this?”
“Of course, this is just the setup. After Devon has been contacted, and if you two agree to take the journey, then you’ll be brought together to work on your new look and professions.” Looking down at his watch, the old man commented, “It’s getting late. Devon will be going to bed soon. Have you made your decision?”
Finishing off his goblet of wine, Matt set it down on the small table. “I’ve nothing keeping me here. If I turned down the opportunity to live a life I’d always dreamed of, I’d never forgive myself.”
Smiling, Eluard prompted him, “I need you to say ’I accept your offer, Eluard’.”
Looking across at the old man, Matt repeated the words deliberately. “I accept your offer, Eluard.”
“We will contact you once Devon has agreed in his mind so you can approach him. Don’t say anything beforehand.”
As the old man finished his warning, Matt saw a bright light and was again sitting on the end of his bed. He looked down he discovered he was still holding the coin.
“What? You’re just going to walk up to Devon and say, ’So want to move to a new world that has magic?’”
The old man laughed as he took a drink from his goblet. “Not exactly, but close. We’ll approach him, in the same manner, we approached you, in his dreams. Once he’s shown interest, and we are certain he is, in fact, interested, we’ll up the intensity until he confides in you about the dreams. If that doesn’t work, we’ll let you broach the subject with him. We’ll play that part by ear. You then can break the news and let him know an offer is on the table. If I must, I’ll send him to you myself. I’ll appear in his dreams and instruct him to seek you out. Once he does, we will together get the final commitment.”
“Then poof, we’re transported?”
“There’s a little bit more preparation than that. With you traveling to a world with a wider variety of species, you will have the opportunity to change your physical appearance. We’ll also coach you on the different skills, in this case, professional and magical, you’ll need after you decide which you’re interested in. Then once all the details are hammered out, you’ll both go to bed and wake in your new home.”
“What happens once we get there, to this new place?”
“That’s entirely up to you. We’ll provide you with training specific to your race and new skill sets. We’ve found the best way to explain your new abilities is by level, as in your world’s video games. We’ll not send you in as a first level but more mid to upper range, based upon the challenges of your new world.”
Eluard looked thoughtful and turned serious. “When you wake, you’ll have all your knowledge already. Think of it like a skill you’ve not practiced for a while. Since you’ll have no practical experience, only memories, we encourage you to spend some time ‘remembering’ what you already know. We typically suggest you take a minimum of a few days and play with your abilities. You’ll wake up a short journey from one of the world’s towns in a secluded area so you can acclimate yourself. Also, and this is critical, once you wake up, we’re no longer in the picture. You’ll live or die based upon your skills.”
“So that’s all you’ll do for us?”
The old man shrugged. “We’ll give you money, clothing, a good set of weapons and things like that. Understand, however, that for a few days or weeks, based on how much time you take to practice, you’ll be rusty with everything, both physical and magical skills.”
Looking grave, Matt poured another drink. “You’re telling me this is a one-way trip, and there’s no turning back.”
“Correct. That’s the most important thing you need to get through your head. Once you’re there, no amount of begging will bring you back. Any other questions?”
“I’m not sure. Can we ask more questions once Devon is in on this?”
“Of course, this is just the setup. After Devon has been contacted, and if you two agree to take the journey, then you’ll be brought together to work on your new look and professions.” Looking down at his watch, the old man commented, “It’s getting late. Devon will be going to bed soon. Have you made your decision?”
Finishing off his goblet of wine, Matt set it down on the small table. “I’ve nothing keeping me here. If I turned down the opportunity to live a life I’d always dreamed of, I’d never forgive myself.”
Smiling, Eluard prompted him, “I need you to say ’I accept your offer, Eluard’.”
Looking across at the old man, Matt repeated the words deliberately. “I accept your offer, Eluard.”
“We will contact you once Devon has agreed in his mind so you can approach him. Don’t say anything beforehand.”
As the old man finished his warning, Matt saw a bright light and was again sitting on the end of his bed. He looked down he discovered he was still holding the coin.
August 24, 2019
Journal of a Deadman: Violence is out
Here continues the journals of Keith Aderwilde, the soul consigned to chronical his travels through Hell. In these entries we will visit the Planes of Blasphemy and Violence as well as the Creations discarded by The Father to the Void. Keith's travels have revealed to him the secrets The Host wished to hide. How their distain for the living since The Father's disappearance has festered until only a few of the trillions of souls who die are ever allowed to enter The Eternal City. How most, regardless of their devotion, fall prey to the contradictory rules set by The Host thus dooming them to an eternity as the playthings of Hells Demons and Damned. Keith is now forced into making hard decisions as he prepares to rescue his lover Usis from the clutches of the Overlord of Violence. With his travel companions and advisors, Keith must devise a way to confront one of Lucifer's most vicious Generals, Leviathan, on his own plane where eternal war is the reward for souls whose lives traveled the highways of brutality and hate. Keith, by orders of Lucifer, cannot deviate from his duties as Hell's journalist and therefore must first complete his visit of the Plane of Blasphemy before he can move on to rescue his companion. On Blasphemy he will encounter the avatars of Death and Life. He will learn what becomes of those who forsake The Father's gift of a flesh and blood for that of technology.
Here begins the conclusion of the widely successful series Journal of a Deadman. We welcome you again into the realms of The Dark Lord to experience Hell through the eyes of a simple mortal who has been thrust into the politics of Eternity where both Hell and The Host are in constant conflict over the dominion of the nine Creations.
This is Alexander Collas ninth novel. Both his series, Journal of a Deadman and The Family Morningstar, have received both adulation and infamy for taking on the subjects of God, Lucifer and Eternity from a different point of view and bringing into question the accepted paradigms handed down over the last two thousand years. These books are graphic, controversial and deal in topics often skirted by other authors.
Here begins the conclusion of the widely successful series Journal of a Deadman. We welcome you again into the realms of The Dark Lord to experience Hell through the eyes of a simple mortal who has been thrust into the politics of Eternity where both Hell and The Host are in constant conflict over the dominion of the nine Creations.
This is Alexander Collas ninth novel. Both his series, Journal of a Deadman and The Family Morningstar, have received both adulation and infamy for taking on the subjects of God, Lucifer and Eternity from a different point of view and bringing into question the accepted paradigms handed down over the last two thousand years. These books are graphic, controversial and deal in topics often skirted by other authors.
May 14, 2019
Into the Wild - Chapter 5
Matt wasn’t sure what he expected. His bedroom started to dim as if the sun was going down but continued until finally, he was standing in absolute blackness. For the first few seconds he remained calm but as time ticked on his resolve began to fail. What had he gotten himself into? Then, just as he was about to panic, off in the distance, he saw a dim light.
The sunlight started to grow just as it had faded, but this time it was different somehow. It kept getting brighter, so bright in fact; he had to shield his eyes. Once more he felt like this was a test. The time ticked on endlessly again pushing him towards his breaking point. Then, through the cracks of his fingers, he noticed the intensity begin to dim. He removed his hand and blinked several times.
He was standing in a field; the grass was knee deep and bright green scattered with wildflowers. Across the plains, he could see mountains. As he looked around, he noticed they surrounded the field, isolating it from wherever lay outside.
Behind him, a few yards back, sat a small gazebo outfitted with two chairs and a table. He rolled his eyes; clearly, this was the “meeting” place the old man had mentioned.
He strolled through the wildflowers, the pleasant smells filling his nose and pissing off his unsettled mind. Flowers weren’t what he needed right now. The gazebo was wooden and covered with a canopy of more flowers, vining pink ones this time. He walked up the two steps onto the deck and found sitting on the table a dusty bottle and two glasses. He sat down, pulled the cork and poured himself a generous portion of the dark red liquid.
Just as he lifted it to his lips, “Well that’s rude. You can pour me one as well,” said the old man as he too walked up, taking the seat across from Matt.
“Hey this is my delusion, and until just now you weren’t here,” Matt replied.
“Well, clearly I am now, so please do me the honor,” Eluard smiled. “I see you decided to pick up the coin.”
“No shit,” answered Matt as he filled the goblet and handed it across to the old man. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Are we past the ‘I don’t believe you’ phase? Can we get on with the proposition?”
“Yes, please. And just give me the highlights, then I’ll ask questions.”
“I’d prefer it that way. Do you want the ‘why this is happening’ speech or just the details of what we’re offering?”
“A short version of why is fine, but does it matter if I accept the offer? I think not.”
The old man nodded. “We find people who are uniquely out of their time and offer them relocation. Now before you ask, yes, a lot of people feel they’re not in the right time and many are correct. That doesn’t mean we offer them all relocation. For a person is eligible, there must be a real disconnect from the time and place where they currently reside. They must suit their future home better than they do their current one. They must have befriended someone in their present time that is also suited to the new time. And finally, they must have something unique to offer their new world.”
“And I fit these criteria?”
“Very much so. At least, we think so. The reason for the interview is to ensure there is the desire before we move forward.”
“The desire on my part I take it. Out of curiosity, how many people turn you down?”
“Yes, both you and your travel partner must want to relocate. As for how many turn us down, roughly half.”
Matt took a long drink while he ingested what the old man had just said. The wine was good. Sitting back in his wicker chair, he questioned, “Half, huh? That's interesting.” Chewing his inner lip and staring up at the canopy of flowers, he added, “I guess my first question would be, you said I’d need to have something to offer the other world. What do I have?”
“Why would I tell you that? It’s a discovery you must make for yourself. We’re not sending you there on a mission. Yes, we might be hoping you can help that world or someone on it, but the overriding reason is still we feel it will be good for you. To ensure you don’t get an ego, you won the coin toss.” Smiling, he added, “Yes, that’s often how we decide between multiple candidates.”
“Great. It’s good to know you put a lot of thought into this.” He paused, then realized something. “Wait, you said I had to have a friend that met the same criteria and was willing to go. Who is it in my case?”
“You tell me. If you could pick anyone you know to go with you on this journey, who would it be?” Asked Eluard.
Matt chewed the inside of his cheek and thought… Who indeed? It wasn’t a great mystery; he’d take Devon. They were the best of friends. They both loved the same kind of stories, and they were already like brothers. “Devon.”
The old man’s eyes twinkled with delight. “See? You got it in one.”
“What if I hadn’t picked the right person?”
“It wouldn’t matter; you know your friends better than we do. You and Devon just happened to both show up on our radar, so to speak, which helped in the choosing. If you hadn’t picked him, we would research whomever you might’ve suggested to accompany you on the trip.”
“What if that person didn’t match? You did say they had to match, right?”
“Yes, we would tell you and suggest a better-suited candidate. The familiarity isn’t always a deal breaker; sometimes there are two of the same world who are unacquainted. This is more often due to geographical location than incompatibility. Most become the friends we exact them to become shortly after meeting. I’m sure the added challenge of a new world and the common bond with the old one also helps bring them together.”
Matt shrugged. “Makes sense. OK, so we have the why and the who. What I need to know now is the how.”
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The sunlight started to grow just as it had faded, but this time it was different somehow. It kept getting brighter, so bright in fact; he had to shield his eyes. Once more he felt like this was a test. The time ticked on endlessly again pushing him towards his breaking point. Then, through the cracks of his fingers, he noticed the intensity begin to dim. He removed his hand and blinked several times.
He was standing in a field; the grass was knee deep and bright green scattered with wildflowers. Across the plains, he could see mountains. As he looked around, he noticed they surrounded the field, isolating it from wherever lay outside.
Behind him, a few yards back, sat a small gazebo outfitted with two chairs and a table. He rolled his eyes; clearly, this was the “meeting” place the old man had mentioned.
He strolled through the wildflowers, the pleasant smells filling his nose and pissing off his unsettled mind. Flowers weren’t what he needed right now. The gazebo was wooden and covered with a canopy of more flowers, vining pink ones this time. He walked up the two steps onto the deck and found sitting on the table a dusty bottle and two glasses. He sat down, pulled the cork and poured himself a generous portion of the dark red liquid.
Just as he lifted it to his lips, “Well that’s rude. You can pour me one as well,” said the old man as he too walked up, taking the seat across from Matt.
“Hey this is my delusion, and until just now you weren’t here,” Matt replied.
“Well, clearly I am now, so please do me the honor,” Eluard smiled. “I see you decided to pick up the coin.”
“No shit,” answered Matt as he filled the goblet and handed it across to the old man. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Are we past the ‘I don’t believe you’ phase? Can we get on with the proposition?”
“Yes, please. And just give me the highlights, then I’ll ask questions.”
“I’d prefer it that way. Do you want the ‘why this is happening’ speech or just the details of what we’re offering?”
“A short version of why is fine, but does it matter if I accept the offer? I think not.”
The old man nodded. “We find people who are uniquely out of their time and offer them relocation. Now before you ask, yes, a lot of people feel they’re not in the right time and many are correct. That doesn’t mean we offer them all relocation. For a person is eligible, there must be a real disconnect from the time and place where they currently reside. They must suit their future home better than they do their current one. They must have befriended someone in their present time that is also suited to the new time. And finally, they must have something unique to offer their new world.”
“And I fit these criteria?”
“Very much so. At least, we think so. The reason for the interview is to ensure there is the desire before we move forward.”
“The desire on my part I take it. Out of curiosity, how many people turn you down?”
“Yes, both you and your travel partner must want to relocate. As for how many turn us down, roughly half.”
Matt took a long drink while he ingested what the old man had just said. The wine was good. Sitting back in his wicker chair, he questioned, “Half, huh? That's interesting.” Chewing his inner lip and staring up at the canopy of flowers, he added, “I guess my first question would be, you said I’d need to have something to offer the other world. What do I have?”
“Why would I tell you that? It’s a discovery you must make for yourself. We’re not sending you there on a mission. Yes, we might be hoping you can help that world or someone on it, but the overriding reason is still we feel it will be good for you. To ensure you don’t get an ego, you won the coin toss.” Smiling, he added, “Yes, that’s often how we decide between multiple candidates.”
“Great. It’s good to know you put a lot of thought into this.” He paused, then realized something. “Wait, you said I had to have a friend that met the same criteria and was willing to go. Who is it in my case?”
“You tell me. If you could pick anyone you know to go with you on this journey, who would it be?” Asked Eluard.
Matt chewed the inside of his cheek and thought… Who indeed? It wasn’t a great mystery; he’d take Devon. They were the best of friends. They both loved the same kind of stories, and they were already like brothers. “Devon.”
The old man’s eyes twinkled with delight. “See? You got it in one.”
“What if I hadn’t picked the right person?”
“It wouldn’t matter; you know your friends better than we do. You and Devon just happened to both show up on our radar, so to speak, which helped in the choosing. If you hadn’t picked him, we would research whomever you might’ve suggested to accompany you on the trip.”
“What if that person didn’t match? You did say they had to match, right?”
“Yes, we would tell you and suggest a better-suited candidate. The familiarity isn’t always a deal breaker; sometimes there are two of the same world who are unacquainted. This is more often due to geographical location than incompatibility. Most become the friends we exact them to become shortly after meeting. I’m sure the added challenge of a new world and the common bond with the old one also helps bring them together.”
Matt shrugged. “Makes sense. OK, so we have the why and the who. What I need to know now is the how.”
Published on May 14, 2019 08:22
•
Tags:
adventure, fantasy, into-the-wild, lgbt
May 7, 2019
Into the Wild - Chapter 4
Chapter 4
When Matt opened his eyes the following morning, he was surprised to find the sun already coming high through the blinds. Glancing over he barked as he discovered it was just after noon. Why’d he slept so late?
He crawled out from under his covers shaking his head and cursing. He preferred to start his day more pre than post-sunrise if he could help it. He walked into the bathroom thinking about the errands he needed to run, removed his boxers, realized he needed to pee and then spend a couple of seconds deciding pre or post-shower. He climbed in the shower, turned on the water, and as he lathered up his hair let a steady stream of last night’s beer flow out and down the drain. Halfway through, he froze, shampoo still in his hair, as his eyes sprang open. Cursing the burn, he ran dripping back into his bedroom to stand staring up at the dresser. There on top of the mirror sat a gold coin. Eyes wide, had said, “Seriously?”
Matt raced back to the shower to wash the burning shampoo out and decided to stand under the pounding hot stream for a while, still not believing it’d all been real.
Just as he was beginning to dry off the phone rang, reminding him that he had a brunch date with his best friend, Devon.
Answering, not even giving his friend a chance to speak, Matt said, “Sorry, I overslept. I’m just finishing my shower. I should be there in twenty minutes.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got to go to work. Let’s meet for dinner tomorrow night instead, if you have time,” answered Devin.
“That works better for me. See you then.” He answered as he heard a click and hung up.
Slowly sinking on to his bed, his eyes, again found their way to the coin. “Could last night’s dream have been real?”
Walking over he reached up, then stopped himself. The old man had said when he was ready just to take the coin. Was he ready? He shook his head. Was he ready? He thought. Did that mean he believed this foolishness?
He walked away. He spent the day cleaning house, doing laundry, running to the store for groceries, and keeping himself busy with all the other chores he’d been putting off. It wasn’t until evening he realized he hadn’t, in fact, been catching up, as much as he’d been filling the time between the moments he’d spent sitting on the end of his bed staring at the coin.
He sat watching himself in the mirror but not for long; his eyes kept drifting back to the gold disk, replacing him in his vision. Here he was at the end of the day, the sun disappearing behind the trees, sitting a foot from his dresser and the mirror upon which a mystery rested.
All day, his mind had been a crazy mad dash between thoughts, the coin and what the old man claimed it could do. It wasn’t the coin that was the mystery; it was here, he could see it. It was the offer. It was the thought, if it was true, of what it could mean. What it could give him. Did he not like his life? Did he want to leave it behind forever? Could he abandon this world and all the people he knew to live someplace like the ones to which he’d escaped so often in his books?
What had started as a coin when he’d awoken had slowly throughout the day morphed into a ticket. Now it wasn’t about what could happen as much as if he dared to take that trip. He realized his life had already changed, simply by being forced to make the decision, was this life worth giving up.
As the last rays of sun hit the hardwood floor, he reached up and took the coin…
When Matt opened his eyes the following morning, he was surprised to find the sun already coming high through the blinds. Glancing over he barked as he discovered it was just after noon. Why’d he slept so late?
He crawled out from under his covers shaking his head and cursing. He preferred to start his day more pre than post-sunrise if he could help it. He walked into the bathroom thinking about the errands he needed to run, removed his boxers, realized he needed to pee and then spend a couple of seconds deciding pre or post-shower. He climbed in the shower, turned on the water, and as he lathered up his hair let a steady stream of last night’s beer flow out and down the drain. Halfway through, he froze, shampoo still in his hair, as his eyes sprang open. Cursing the burn, he ran dripping back into his bedroom to stand staring up at the dresser. There on top of the mirror sat a gold coin. Eyes wide, had said, “Seriously?”
Matt raced back to the shower to wash the burning shampoo out and decided to stand under the pounding hot stream for a while, still not believing it’d all been real.
Just as he was beginning to dry off the phone rang, reminding him that he had a brunch date with his best friend, Devon.
Answering, not even giving his friend a chance to speak, Matt said, “Sorry, I overslept. I’m just finishing my shower. I should be there in twenty minutes.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got to go to work. Let’s meet for dinner tomorrow night instead, if you have time,” answered Devin.
“That works better for me. See you then.” He answered as he heard a click and hung up.
Slowly sinking on to his bed, his eyes, again found their way to the coin. “Could last night’s dream have been real?”
Walking over he reached up, then stopped himself. The old man had said when he was ready just to take the coin. Was he ready? He shook his head. Was he ready? He thought. Did that mean he believed this foolishness?
He walked away. He spent the day cleaning house, doing laundry, running to the store for groceries, and keeping himself busy with all the other chores he’d been putting off. It wasn’t until evening he realized he hadn’t, in fact, been catching up, as much as he’d been filling the time between the moments he’d spent sitting on the end of his bed staring at the coin.
He sat watching himself in the mirror but not for long; his eyes kept drifting back to the gold disk, replacing him in his vision. Here he was at the end of the day, the sun disappearing behind the trees, sitting a foot from his dresser and the mirror upon which a mystery rested.
All day, his mind had been a crazy mad dash between thoughts, the coin and what the old man claimed it could do. It wasn’t the coin that was the mystery; it was here, he could see it. It was the offer. It was the thought, if it was true, of what it could mean. What it could give him. Did he not like his life? Did he want to leave it behind forever? Could he abandon this world and all the people he knew to live someplace like the ones to which he’d escaped so often in his books?
What had started as a coin when he’d awoken had slowly throughout the day morphed into a ticket. Now it wasn’t about what could happen as much as if he dared to take that trip. He realized his life had already changed, simply by being forced to make the decision, was this life worth giving up.
As the last rays of sun hit the hardwood floor, he reached up and took the coin…
March 28, 2019
Into the Wild - Chapter 3
Into the Wild – Chapter 3
Chapter 3
Matt found a pair of boxers on the floor and pulled them on as he crawled back in bed, his pillow shield still in place. The two sat quietly, Matt studying the strangely dressed old man, trying to decide how best to deal with an intruder. Not only was he in his house, but in his bedroom. How’d he get in?
The odd-looking old man was wearing a dark green pair of tights -- yes, tights -- with a lighter green tunic secured by a belt from which hung a dozen leather bags. His hair was cropped short almost like a drill sergeant and matched his mustache and beard which were equally as short and snow white.
“So, are you ready to listen? We don’t make offers like this often, and I don’t plan on sitting around here all night while you decide not to piss yourself,” said the guy in a soft voice.
“Listen, you broke into my house,” answered Matt, deciding to play along. Maybe this whole thing was just a continuation of the dream. He had heard of dreams within dreams. “What’s this about me not answering my dreams?”
“What have you been dreaming of lately? You know the recurring one?”
“You mean the one about the little lizard guys…”
He interrupted, “Kobolds.”
“Right, that’s what I called them in my dream. We explored a dungeon to do some treasure hunting, me and a friend. Well, I think he was a friend. I’ve never been able to see his face.” Shaking his head, Matt continued, “Anyway, we ended up getting chased through a field by those… kobolds. I always wake up about then; I have no idea how it ends.”
“I know. That’s all we’re giving you. And the reason you cannot see your friend’s face is that you haven’t chosen him yet.”
“What do you mean ‘given me’? I haven’t chosen my friend yet? What? Who are you? It’s time you stop all this mystery shit and get on with whatever it is you feel is worth breaking and entering over.”
“Fine, typically the person gets what we are doing by now and tends to be somewhat more receptive even if they don’t fully believe. You’re going to be one of those harder cases.”
Matt made circling motions with his hand. “You know, if I’m awake, I’ve got things to do tomorrow. Can we get on with this?”
“I also see why you’re a contender. OK, believe it or not, those dreams you’ve been having are not dreams, but programmed scenarios to see if you’re interested in taking a leap of faith that would change your life.”
Sitting up, leaning forward and resting his hands on the pillow, Matt asked, “What are you talking about? What leap of faith?”
“Well, to put it bluntly, would you be interested in living a life like the one you saw in your dreams? A life where you no longer live in this world but another? Where magic, strange animals, and the mysteries you have so enjoyed in all those books you read on that little device, are real?”[PE1]
Half laughing to himself, Matt said, “Clearly I’m still dreaming. Let me see if I’m getting this right. You’re offering to take me to a place that’s like all those fantasy books I read?”
“Exactly, you got it in one. I was starting to think you weren’t near as smart as I’d heard you were.”
“Fuck you, buddy.”
“Maybe later. OK…” The strange man stood. “Let me do this right. First, I should introduce myself; I am Eluard. I’m a recruiter. I’m sent out, on occasion, to find individual souls that don’t fit in their current time, and I work to relocate them into more useful lives.”
“Oh, do you?[PE2] Let's just say for a moment that I believe you, which I don’t. That this isn’t the most fucked up, crock of shit dream I’ve ever had, which it is. How exactly would this relocation happen?”
“That’s a good sign. At least, you’ve not started screaming and running around like a crazy person, questioning your sanity,” the old man said making an approving face.
“I’m saving that for later after you leave.”
“Very kind of you. From the looks of it, you could probably hit a pretty high whining pitch, and that’s always hard on the ears.”
“Again, fuck you. So, what now? You can’t think I believe what you’re telling me. I’m still going over what I had for dinner last night that would’ve caused such screwed-up dreams.”
“Well, now for the hard part of my visit, proving to you that this is, in fact, not a dream or a delusion, but real. Because once you decide, there’s no turning back.”
Matt leaned against the headboard, putting his hands behind his head. “Well, at least this should be entertaining. Go ahead, convince me.”
Looking out the window, deep in thought, the old man said[PE3] , “It’s later than I expected, and I have a feeling nothing I say here is going to sway you. Let’s do this.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold coin. Walking over he placed it on the top of the mirror above Matt’s dresser “There. Now you’ll have to have to make a conscious decision to pick that up. Do so when you’re ready and address it.”
“Address it? What like ’Hello, Coin!’,” laughed Matt.
“That’ll do. Then you’ll be brought to me. Well, you’ll be brought to the Waypost, not actually to me. Then we can continue this conversation.” Turning to face Matt, the old man bowed slightly and said, “Good night!” then vanished.
Matt sat staring at the place where the stranger had stood then rolled his eyes. Finally, scooting back down under his blankets, satisfied with the quality of this dream he fell back to sleep.
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Chapter 3
Matt found a pair of boxers on the floor and pulled them on as he crawled back in bed, his pillow shield still in place. The two sat quietly, Matt studying the strangely dressed old man, trying to decide how best to deal with an intruder. Not only was he in his house, but in his bedroom. How’d he get in?
The odd-looking old man was wearing a dark green pair of tights -- yes, tights -- with a lighter green tunic secured by a belt from which hung a dozen leather bags. His hair was cropped short almost like a drill sergeant and matched his mustache and beard which were equally as short and snow white.
“So, are you ready to listen? We don’t make offers like this often, and I don’t plan on sitting around here all night while you decide not to piss yourself,” said the guy in a soft voice.
“Listen, you broke into my house,” answered Matt, deciding to play along. Maybe this whole thing was just a continuation of the dream. He had heard of dreams within dreams. “What’s this about me not answering my dreams?”
“What have you been dreaming of lately? You know the recurring one?”
“You mean the one about the little lizard guys…”
He interrupted, “Kobolds.”
“Right, that’s what I called them in my dream. We explored a dungeon to do some treasure hunting, me and a friend. Well, I think he was a friend. I’ve never been able to see his face.” Shaking his head, Matt continued, “Anyway, we ended up getting chased through a field by those… kobolds. I always wake up about then; I have no idea how it ends.”
“I know. That’s all we’re giving you. And the reason you cannot see your friend’s face is that you haven’t chosen him yet.”
“What do you mean ‘given me’? I haven’t chosen my friend yet? What? Who are you? It’s time you stop all this mystery shit and get on with whatever it is you feel is worth breaking and entering over.”
“Fine, typically the person gets what we are doing by now and tends to be somewhat more receptive even if they don’t fully believe. You’re going to be one of those harder cases.”
Matt made circling motions with his hand. “You know, if I’m awake, I’ve got things to do tomorrow. Can we get on with this?”
“I also see why you’re a contender. OK, believe it or not, those dreams you’ve been having are not dreams, but programmed scenarios to see if you’re interested in taking a leap of faith that would change your life.”
Sitting up, leaning forward and resting his hands on the pillow, Matt asked, “What are you talking about? What leap of faith?”
“Well, to put it bluntly, would you be interested in living a life like the one you saw in your dreams? A life where you no longer live in this world but another? Where magic, strange animals, and the mysteries you have so enjoyed in all those books you read on that little device, are real?”[PE1]
Half laughing to himself, Matt said, “Clearly I’m still dreaming. Let me see if I’m getting this right. You’re offering to take me to a place that’s like all those fantasy books I read?”
“Exactly, you got it in one. I was starting to think you weren’t near as smart as I’d heard you were.”
“Fuck you, buddy.”
“Maybe later. OK…” The strange man stood. “Let me do this right. First, I should introduce myself; I am Eluard. I’m a recruiter. I’m sent out, on occasion, to find individual souls that don’t fit in their current time, and I work to relocate them into more useful lives.”
“Oh, do you?[PE2] Let's just say for a moment that I believe you, which I don’t. That this isn’t the most fucked up, crock of shit dream I’ve ever had, which it is. How exactly would this relocation happen?”
“That’s a good sign. At least, you’ve not started screaming and running around like a crazy person, questioning your sanity,” the old man said making an approving face.
“I’m saving that for later after you leave.”
“Very kind of you. From the looks of it, you could probably hit a pretty high whining pitch, and that’s always hard on the ears.”
“Again, fuck you. So, what now? You can’t think I believe what you’re telling me. I’m still going over what I had for dinner last night that would’ve caused such screwed-up dreams.”
“Well, now for the hard part of my visit, proving to you that this is, in fact, not a dream or a delusion, but real. Because once you decide, there’s no turning back.”
Matt leaned against the headboard, putting his hands behind his head. “Well, at least this should be entertaining. Go ahead, convince me.”
Looking out the window, deep in thought, the old man said[PE3] , “It’s later than I expected, and I have a feeling nothing I say here is going to sway you. Let’s do this.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold coin. Walking over he placed it on the top of the mirror above Matt’s dresser “There. Now you’ll have to have to make a conscious decision to pick that up. Do so when you’re ready and address it.”
“Address it? What like ’Hello, Coin!’,” laughed Matt.
“That’ll do. Then you’ll be brought to me. Well, you’ll be brought to the Waypost, not actually to me. Then we can continue this conversation.” Turning to face Matt, the old man bowed slightly and said, “Good night!” then vanished.
Matt sat staring at the place where the stranger had stood then rolled his eyes. Finally, scooting back down under his blankets, satisfied with the quality of this dream he fell back to sleep.
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Published on March 28, 2019 11:23
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Tags:
adventure, fantasy, into-the-wild, lgbt
March 5, 2019
Into the Wild - Chapter 2
Chapter 2
That damn dream again. Every night for the last two weeks, the same dream. Matsugo sat up in his bed, rubbing his eyes. It was fucking strange. What did it mean? He pulled back the covers, shivering in the cold night air. The seasons had started their change; winter was knocking at the doors of Seattle.
In the dark, he walked to the bathroom. He didn’t need light. Matt had lived in this house for almost as long as he’d been alive. The only time he hadn’t awoken in this bed, in this room for that matter, was during his short attempt at college. But that ended when he had become an orphan. All three members of his family killed in a car accident. His mother and sister both died at the scene while sadly his father had lingered. The old man had never fully awoken in his hospital bed, finally passing away as well. In many ways, Mat felt his never waking was the last mercy this life could have shown the old man. He died never knowing that all he loved had already left to prepare his way.
Matt sat with his father for days, holding his hand, telling him he was getting better. The few times he stirred in his restless slumber, with all those tubes and wires snaking from his body, Matt had whispered that his beloved wife and daughter were waiting for him. He never knew if his father understood his lies, but then what else could a son do but lie? So, Matt did.
Finally, on that last morning, the old man opened his eyes. They had darted around, confused, until eventually finding his son, his adopted son, and there they locked. Matsugo smiled, hoping it was the start of a new day. That wasn’t to be, for as the edges of his father’s mouth curled up, bringing hope with the weak smile, he released his last breath and slipped from this world. In such a short time, Matsugo Chang had gone from having a disapproving family to being alone. It’s strange how once they were gone, he realized even a disappointed family was better than none.
Matt walked into the bathroom, his nude body shivering from the cold. He stood in front of the toilet and relaxed, allowing the stream of urine to flow as he looked out the window above the toilet.
His life had been understandable once. Now his family was gone, and he lived in the house he had spent most of his youth trying to escape. Money wasn’t a problem. His parents had been frugal and, once the lawyers and tax people were gone, they’d left him with a nice nest egg from their savings and insurance money. But still…
He shook, allowing the last drop to fall into the water below. He turned, catching a glimpse of himself dusted by the moonlight in the full-length mirror beside the tub. He should get his hair cut; his mother hated it when it got this long. The jet-black locks were now down to his shoulders, hanging in his face. He’d resorted to pulling it back into a stump of a ponytail. He liked it long. He didn’t consider himself arrogant, but he was attractive. He had always enjoyed working out. The strain settled his mind. He wished he was taller, standing just a little over five and a half feet. He chuckled about how that half a foot mattered, at least to him.
His body had almost no hair even a mustache was hard to grow. His chest, arms, legs, and ass were as smooth as a baby’s butt. When he wore speedos to the beach, the tight ass and the way his lines flowed into each other ensured both sexes would notice him. He didn’t have a body-builders, overdone physique, but the subtler frame of a swimmer. The perfection of his chest was only interrupted by two small barbell piercings, one in each nipple. His pecs slid down onto his abs which flowed across his stomach like small waves on a calm day, ending in his jet-black pubes that curled around his cock. He’d lucked out; his manhood was perfect for his frame, long, uncut and wide. He and his cock had become fast friends while in high school. It had been the only hobby other than video games he’d found he was any good at.
He’d heard all the jokes in the locker room — the rumor about Asians having small cocks. In his years of sleeping with other Asian men, he’d found that myth to most certainly not be true. He’d been born Japanese but adopted by a white family. His parents and sister were Caucasian, so he had grown up in a typical middle-class white household. His Asian friends joked he was nothing more than a white man with tanned skin and almond-shaped eyes.
He’d tried to hang on to aspects of his birth parents’ culture, but like all things you are distant from, those parts you know, you forget, and the parts you don’t, you never bother to learn.
As he crawled back into bed, pulling the covers over his goose-bumped skin he noticed movement across the room. He dismissed thinking it was his curtains and settled back onto his pillow. Then he realized, wait the window wasn’t over there.
In shock, he sat up and almost screamed. There, in the chair beside his desk, sat a man.
“Who are you?” he barked as he backed out of bed, putting it between him and the stranger. The man looked him up and down. It was then he remembered he was nude. Flushing red, Matt grabbed his pillow, placing it over his midsection. “I said who are you and why are you in my house?”
“You insisted I visit, you won’t answer your dreams,” the stranger said calmly.
“Answer my dreams! What the hell are you talking about?”
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That damn dream again. Every night for the last two weeks, the same dream. Matsugo sat up in his bed, rubbing his eyes. It was fucking strange. What did it mean? He pulled back the covers, shivering in the cold night air. The seasons had started their change; winter was knocking at the doors of Seattle.
In the dark, he walked to the bathroom. He didn’t need light. Matt had lived in this house for almost as long as he’d been alive. The only time he hadn’t awoken in this bed, in this room for that matter, was during his short attempt at college. But that ended when he had become an orphan. All three members of his family killed in a car accident. His mother and sister both died at the scene while sadly his father had lingered. The old man had never fully awoken in his hospital bed, finally passing away as well. In many ways, Mat felt his never waking was the last mercy this life could have shown the old man. He died never knowing that all he loved had already left to prepare his way.
Matt sat with his father for days, holding his hand, telling him he was getting better. The few times he stirred in his restless slumber, with all those tubes and wires snaking from his body, Matt had whispered that his beloved wife and daughter were waiting for him. He never knew if his father understood his lies, but then what else could a son do but lie? So, Matt did.
Finally, on that last morning, the old man opened his eyes. They had darted around, confused, until eventually finding his son, his adopted son, and there they locked. Matsugo smiled, hoping it was the start of a new day. That wasn’t to be, for as the edges of his father’s mouth curled up, bringing hope with the weak smile, he released his last breath and slipped from this world. In such a short time, Matsugo Chang had gone from having a disapproving family to being alone. It’s strange how once they were gone, he realized even a disappointed family was better than none.
Matt walked into the bathroom, his nude body shivering from the cold. He stood in front of the toilet and relaxed, allowing the stream of urine to flow as he looked out the window above the toilet.
His life had been understandable once. Now his family was gone, and he lived in the house he had spent most of his youth trying to escape. Money wasn’t a problem. His parents had been frugal and, once the lawyers and tax people were gone, they’d left him with a nice nest egg from their savings and insurance money. But still…
He shook, allowing the last drop to fall into the water below. He turned, catching a glimpse of himself dusted by the moonlight in the full-length mirror beside the tub. He should get his hair cut; his mother hated it when it got this long. The jet-black locks were now down to his shoulders, hanging in his face. He’d resorted to pulling it back into a stump of a ponytail. He liked it long. He didn’t consider himself arrogant, but he was attractive. He had always enjoyed working out. The strain settled his mind. He wished he was taller, standing just a little over five and a half feet. He chuckled about how that half a foot mattered, at least to him.
His body had almost no hair even a mustache was hard to grow. His chest, arms, legs, and ass were as smooth as a baby’s butt. When he wore speedos to the beach, the tight ass and the way his lines flowed into each other ensured both sexes would notice him. He didn’t have a body-builders, overdone physique, but the subtler frame of a swimmer. The perfection of his chest was only interrupted by two small barbell piercings, one in each nipple. His pecs slid down onto his abs which flowed across his stomach like small waves on a calm day, ending in his jet-black pubes that curled around his cock. He’d lucked out; his manhood was perfect for his frame, long, uncut and wide. He and his cock had become fast friends while in high school. It had been the only hobby other than video games he’d found he was any good at.
He’d heard all the jokes in the locker room — the rumor about Asians having small cocks. In his years of sleeping with other Asian men, he’d found that myth to most certainly not be true. He’d been born Japanese but adopted by a white family. His parents and sister were Caucasian, so he had grown up in a typical middle-class white household. His Asian friends joked he was nothing more than a white man with tanned skin and almond-shaped eyes.
He’d tried to hang on to aspects of his birth parents’ culture, but like all things you are distant from, those parts you know, you forget, and the parts you don’t, you never bother to learn.
As he crawled back into bed, pulling the covers over his goose-bumped skin he noticed movement across the room. He dismissed thinking it was his curtains and settled back onto his pillow. Then he realized, wait the window wasn’t over there.
In shock, he sat up and almost screamed. There, in the chair beside his desk, sat a man.
“Who are you?” he barked as he backed out of bed, putting it between him and the stranger. The man looked him up and down. It was then he remembered he was nude. Flushing red, Matt grabbed his pillow, placing it over his midsection. “I said who are you and why are you in my house?”
“You insisted I visit, you won’t answer your dreams,” the stranger said calmly.
“Answer my dreams! What the hell are you talking about?”
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Published on March 05, 2019 19:26
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Tags:
adventure, fantasy, lgbt, online-novel
February 25, 2019
Into the Wild - Chapter 1
“They're still chasing us! Why won't those damn things give up?” Matt heard from behind him.
“Are kobolds supposed to be such dicks? I thought they hated the sun,” he yelled back as a bright flash whizzed past just missing his head.
Turning, he saw his friend, his travel companion, firing bolts from his fingers as fast as he could. They’d been through so much. Their adventures to dungeons, like this last one, sometimes brought them jewels and gold, while other times they found themselves running like cowards from a band of angry kobolds trying to save their asses. Watching the power in his friend magic reminded Matt just how far they’d come together.
They continued to run until they were both exhausted. Finally, dripping with sweat and blurry eyed, they stopped. Looking back over his shoulder he took a quick count. Only ten or so left. They had managed to reduce the number by almost half, a more manageable fight. Pulling his daggers, he took a deep breath and turned to see if his friend is ready as well.
Matt froze. His companion’s face… it was a blur; he couldn’t make out any of its features. With the attackers still growing closer, he searched his memory. Why couldn’t he remember his friend’s face? Who was this? Where were they? And more importantly, if he couldn’t remember the face, did even know who this was? What made him think it was a friend?
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“Are kobolds supposed to be such dicks? I thought they hated the sun,” he yelled back as a bright flash whizzed past just missing his head.
Turning, he saw his friend, his travel companion, firing bolts from his fingers as fast as he could. They’d been through so much. Their adventures to dungeons, like this last one, sometimes brought them jewels and gold, while other times they found themselves running like cowards from a band of angry kobolds trying to save their asses. Watching the power in his friend magic reminded Matt just how far they’d come together.
They continued to run until they were both exhausted. Finally, dripping with sweat and blurry eyed, they stopped. Looking back over his shoulder he took a quick count. Only ten or so left. They had managed to reduce the number by almost half, a more manageable fight. Pulling his daggers, he took a deep breath and turned to see if his friend is ready as well.
Matt froze. His companion’s face… it was a blur; he couldn’t make out any of its features. With the attackers still growing closer, he searched his memory. Why couldn’t he remember his friend’s face? Who was this? Where were they? And more importantly, if he couldn’t remember the face, did even know who this was? What made him think it was a friend?
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Published on February 25, 2019 08:19
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Tags:
adventure, fantasy, into-the-wild, lgbt
Into the Wild - Online Novel
I am starting a free on-going online novel called Into the Wild. It's about two friends who are given the opportunity to leave today's world and live in a magical world. Check it out at
Alexander Collas Online
Alexander Collas Online
Published on February 25, 2019 07:59
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Tags:
adventure, fantasy, lgbt, online-novel


