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Mooncatcher: Book Two
The Prime Tower pierced the moody sky with the sharp needle. The gray clouds looked like a congregation of dirty linen scattered across the sky.
A boy in raggy clothes gazed up the building, his heart pounding.
I’d soon see my family, slipped through the child’s mind. And we won’t have to say goodbye anymore.
Memories triggered in front of his eyes, as Firas walked to do what he was destined to—the child was told that he was the chosen warrior. For the past few years his mentors prepared him well to fulfill his destiny and now this day had come.
If I succeed, an award would wait me in paradise . . . I will see my loved ones . . . for that I have to prove my faith in Allah.
The instructor gave him the torn picture, where a Muslim woman was getting rid off the black veil with a disrespectful gesture—the cover of the magazine, the Syrian Madonna. The American magazine mocked his religion, mocked everything the young boy believed into.
And the terrorist didn’t like that. His lips produced something that sounded like a prayer, like a command—he was just a few steps away from the publishing house office.
It was passersby, a father and his son, who took his attention at once. Father was holding the kid on his shoulders and a tiny, but powerful memory twinkled in the troubled heart before he would commit the unthinkable.
His father wanted him to be an architect to raise houses for the fellow Syrians, to build beautiful mosques in order to praise Allah and young Firas had once promised himself to do everything to make his dad be proud of him.
“You are so special,” his father kissed him on forehead, when a little boy brought only good marks from school. “Almighty gave me such a smart, such a special son!”
It was that bomb that destructed once a beautiful soul. Firas saw his house blow up in front of his eyes, as he was returning home from school—his entire family was in there. Wounded, all covered with blood and dust—the boy was shrieking hysterically as he tried to get underneath the rumble. And then there was another explosion—stillness stupefied the boy.
He would wake in the hospital—there was no mother, no father around him and the little heart sank in terror.
Something broke in little boy’s soul that night.
Something that was now beyond repair.
Firas remembered how he was living on the streets, rummaging, eating the leftovers from the trash, he remembered how desperation and hunger brought him to the camp where he found his shelter, his new home.
That was when the boy pledged his allegiance to the Syrian-Iraqi Caliphate of Khaleid Salaami—the SICKS, that was when he found his new self.
Nothing but paradise awaits the true jihadist, the true warrior. All you have to do is to kill the unfaithful, the infidels.
His hand went underneath his black jacket, the touch of the wire was cold.
The explosive belt felt tight around his tiny body.
I see my Mom, I see my Dad . . . I see my brother, I miss them so much.
Through the revolting door the boy walked into the magazine headquarters.
And the grave silence followed.
A boy in raggy clothes gazed up the building, his heart pounding.
I’d soon see my family, slipped through the child’s mind. And we won’t have to say goodbye anymore.
Memories triggered in front of his eyes, as Firas walked to do what he was destined to—the child was told that he was the chosen warrior. For the past few years his mentors prepared him well to fulfill his destiny and now this day had come.
If I succeed, an award would wait me in paradise . . . I will see my loved ones . . . for that I have to prove my faith in Allah.
The instructor gave him the torn picture, where a Muslim woman was getting rid off the black veil with a disrespectful gesture—the cover of the magazine, the Syrian Madonna. The American magazine mocked his religion, mocked everything the young boy believed into.
And the terrorist didn’t like that. His lips produced something that sounded like a prayer, like a command—he was just a few steps away from the publishing house office.
It was passersby, a father and his son, who took his attention at once. Father was holding the kid on his shoulders and a tiny, but powerful memory twinkled in the troubled heart before he would commit the unthinkable.
His father wanted him to be an architect to raise houses for the fellow Syrians, to build beautiful mosques in order to praise Allah and young Firas had once promised himself to do everything to make his dad be proud of him.
“You are so special,” his father kissed him on forehead, when a little boy brought only good marks from school. “Almighty gave me such a smart, such a special son!”
It was that bomb that destructed once a beautiful soul. Firas saw his house blow up in front of his eyes, as he was returning home from school—his entire family was in there. Wounded, all covered with blood and dust—the boy was shrieking hysterically as he tried to get underneath the rumble. And then there was another explosion—stillness stupefied the boy.
He would wake in the hospital—there was no mother, no father around him and the little heart sank in terror.
Something broke in little boy’s soul that night.
Something that was now beyond repair.
Firas remembered how he was living on the streets, rummaging, eating the leftovers from the trash, he remembered how desperation and hunger brought him to the camp where he found his shelter, his new home.
That was when the boy pledged his allegiance to the Syrian-Iraqi Caliphate of Khaleid Salaami—the SICKS, that was when he found his new self.
Nothing but paradise awaits the true jihadist, the true warrior. All you have to do is to kill the unfaithful, the infidels.
His hand went underneath his black jacket, the touch of the wire was cold.
The explosive belt felt tight around his tiny body.
I see my Mom, I see my Dad . . . I see my brother, I miss them so much.
Through the revolting door the boy walked into the magazine headquarters.
And the grave silence followed.
230 pages, Kindle Edition
Published March 29, 2019
About the author
Eric Klosner
4 books3 followersEric Klosner is the author of the Mooncatcher series.
Every time he writes something, the author wears the kind of expression one would have if one was going to save the planet from a dinosaur invasion.
Passion. Attitude. Epicness.
They’re all over his face.
As of now, the author is working nonstop on a new project. This book that is supposed to save lives, cure diseases, and end wars around the world may cause some nervous meltdowns once it is unleashed upon the world. Truth be told, this project gives its creator too many chills.
The amount of disses and shades that Eric has accumulated towards the world’s politicians, criminals, and even bloodthirsty terrorists nourishes his soul for he sees himself as a warrior of justice, peace, and harmony.
Besides writing, Eric loves drinking black tea with a lot of sugar while listening to pop songs from the late 90s and posting silly comments about YouTube videos.
All in all, Eric Klosner is a cool, laidback dude with the simple, modest dream of becoming one of America’s best-selling authors and one day making it on national news. He even has a suit and tie prepared for his first interview.
What a humble dreamer.
As for you, dear reader, if you enjoy diving into mystery and suspense, Native American legends and the enigma of DNA’s structure, heartbreak and trouble - and if you love fun and comedy as well - then welcome to Eric Klosner’s world.
Entertainment? Guaranteed!
Every time he writes something, the author wears the kind of expression one would have if one was going to save the planet from a dinosaur invasion.
Passion. Attitude. Epicness.
They’re all over his face.
As of now, the author is working nonstop on a new project. This book that is supposed to save lives, cure diseases, and end wars around the world may cause some nervous meltdowns once it is unleashed upon the world. Truth be told, this project gives its creator too many chills.
The amount of disses and shades that Eric has accumulated towards the world’s politicians, criminals, and even bloodthirsty terrorists nourishes his soul for he sees himself as a warrior of justice, peace, and harmony.
Besides writing, Eric loves drinking black tea with a lot of sugar while listening to pop songs from the late 90s and posting silly comments about YouTube videos.
All in all, Eric Klosner is a cool, laidback dude with the simple, modest dream of becoming one of America’s best-selling authors and one day making it on national news. He even has a suit and tie prepared for his first interview.
What a humble dreamer.
As for you, dear reader, if you enjoy diving into mystery and suspense, Native American legends and the enigma of DNA’s structure, heartbreak and trouble - and if you love fun and comedy as well - then welcome to Eric Klosner’s world.
Entertainment? Guaranteed!
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Displaying 1 of 1 review
September 27, 2022
Mooncatcher 1 is a background of what is about to happen. This should be read first.
Nicole and her friends learn most of the burdens Luna was caring on her shoulders before her untimely death.
Now that Nicole is editor in chief of A(ambition) & W (women) she has stirred up quite a frenzy throughout the world with her lastest article and cover. She has put herself and others in danger.
Czareen has managed to work his way to melt the ice Nicole was holding for him.
There is a lot of interesting information throughout the story.
The editing is much better.
Thank you Hidden Gems and the author for a digital copy. Read and reviewed voluntarily and the opinions expressed here are unbiased and entirely my own.
Nicole and her friends learn most of the burdens Luna was caring on her shoulders before her untimely death.
Now that Nicole is editor in chief of A(ambition) & W (women) she has stirred up quite a frenzy throughout the world with her lastest article and cover. She has put herself and others in danger.
Czareen has managed to work his way to melt the ice Nicole was holding for him.
There is a lot of interesting information throughout the story.
The editing is much better.
Thank you Hidden Gems and the author for a digital copy. Read and reviewed voluntarily and the opinions expressed here are unbiased and entirely my own.
Displaying 1 of 1 review