A Journal Page

This is an excerpt from the novel I’m working on. Hope you enjoy.

January 1st,

The pureness of snow has been tainted red with blood. I killed my first dragon today. Ironic it’s the first of the year. I made this journal from its skin. My mission is taking care of the rogues. The ones who desire to bring harm to others. It’s not an easy task. The rogues are fearless, strong, determined. They will not stop until they complete their personal missions. My duty is to complete mine first. My brother discovered there was a trace of knight in our family from long ago. They were unrecognized, doing what must be done. I realize it is my turn to resurrect the mantle. My brother is not capable of causing death. I must bear the weight for him. Another thing about the rogue dragons—they’re also human. Technically, they’re humans with the capability of transformation. I like to think of them as were-dragons. The one I slew today was named Cory. It wasn’t easy. I still can’t wash all the blood off my hands. Ironic I live in St. George, named after the famous dragon slayer. Maybe he’s kin. I must report to Lord Jett.

Kyle Rivers.


Choices with Daggers

Weapons were made to harm others, not yourself. She repeated this over and over in her mind. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. How many times had he told her that simple phrase? How many times had he walked in on her when she held the dagger to her wrist, contemplating whether or not she should do it? Too many for her to remember. She held the dagger now. Fingers trembling. Palm sweaty. Here they were again. He begged her to put down the weapon as she tightened her grip on the smooth handle. But this time he was on the floor. This time she stood above him. And she still had the dagger. She refused to live this life any longer. Her whole body trembled. Breaths coming in short bursts. Sweat beaded on her neck and forehead. The one light slowly swung back and forth. Shadows coming and going. All she could hear were his desperate pleas. How many times had he tempted her to take her own life? Where do you think she even got the blade? Weapons were made to harm others, not yourself. Oh, she was going to harm another alright. She would harm him so he couldn’t tempt any other naive souls to bleed themselves to death. Death…it sounded so sweet and comforting. Sounded familiar. She looked at her wrists. Both had scars running across her main veins. Her flesh was pasty and white. What…? Death. Her eyes lifted. The sensation of tears and sweat fading away. She was dead. She had bled herself to death. By the manipulations of him. She was dead and could no longer be killed. So she plunged the dagger into his heart. Watching him choke on his own blood filled her with so much satisfaction. He tried holding on, but the light faded from his eyes. A faint smile touched her blue lips. Weapons were made to harm others, not yourself…

V and the Red Dragon

“I am a dragon, and you will respect your queen!” Velokitari roared in the ancient tongue shared by all dragons who spoke.
The red dragon laughed. “You are nothing but a fleshling. You are more human than dragon.”
She slowly rose from her throne, multi-colored eyes boring into the beast. “Dragons come in many forms. A creature of your low intelligence should know at least that. I am the most different, therefore I am queen. Do you understand?”
The enormous throne room filled with silence, save for the rushing waterfall. Then the red dragon’s bellowing laugh echoed among the stone. “Is that how it’s run around here? Whoever’s the most special gets to rule the lands?”
“I think I’ll see the council now.”
“The council is not to be bothered with petty dealings. If you wish to join our Sanctuary, you are required to go through me.”
“Certainly.” Running his tongue over his rows of teeth, he lunged towards the throne. A pair of black dragons stopped him before he reached the base, however. He snarled.
Velokitari hadn’t flinched. “The twins hatched at the same time. There was a third that hatched minutes later. Let’s just say they shared it in no time flat. The twins are my brothers. It would be wise not to provoke them.”
“You call yourself a dragon and claim dragons to be your blood. I’ve never seen such blasphemy! I shall devour you where you stand.”
The identical guards rumbled low warnings. Their red eyes glinting with ire. Simultaneously, their shoulders settled into place as their rear haunches braced for launching.
Her head tilted. “So I take it you no longer wish to join the Sanctuary? Your request will not be considered a second time. But know this.” She took each throne step at a deliberate pace until she stood between her brothers. “If you remain here, I will clip your wings and keep you under surveillance. Your scales are not to be trusted.”
“I will take no more of this!” Rearing back, the red dragon gathered strength. Blew a stream of fire at the queen when he landed back on his front legs. A smug grin controlled his lips. The fire died.
She remained unscathed. “Is that your best? Though I must say your surprise to my fire resistance amuses me greatly. Didn’t I tell you I was skilled with flames? You should know I also have power over earth, water, and darkness. Four elements I have so far mastered. I am superior to you in every way.”
He bared his fangs. “I shall return with an army of dragons. We will rid this place of the monstrosity you are.” But he was attacked. Before he could even turn to the ledge for flight.
The twins were on him in an instant. Biting and clawing as they neared the outsider to his death. They kept their wings folded tightly against their bodies. Wings were too vital to be lost in a skirmish such as this. Bloody moments passed, and they brought down the larger dragon. Fought over which body parts they desired.
She watched with delight. One of her favorite things was witnessing death brought on by her brothers. They were skilled, quick, and efficient. It was always a pleasure. Once the pair gorged most of the meat, she sent the miniature dragons that prowled around the throne over to the corpse for scraps.
The small bunch scurried over, chirping and eagerly sharing in the prize. Two tugged over a piece of tough meat while another kept being shoved aside by the twins. The fourth scavenged, staying out of the others’ way.
Crossing her arms, the queen walked to the edge of the open throne room. Staring down the waterfall that flowed from under the palace. The red dragon was not the first to claim her human. Her hands clenched. She was no filthy fleshling. Though, if she was to be honest, she had never been past the guarded walls of the Sanctuary. Sure, the occassional knight came though, but they were armored.
She huffed. And it didn’t help she ordered their executions before she saw what they looked like. An idea rushed over her. She would go outside the Sanctuary. She would travel and see the outside world. Meet the humans she supposedly looked like. Her eyes rolled. Why was it so hard for some creatures to accept? Pivoting, she marched to her quarters. She was clearly a dragon!

Stolen Dream

I once had a dream. A dream that filled me with joy and warmth. I thought about it everyday. Laced my nights with my vision. It was my goal, my life. But then again, life always happened. My dream was put on hold. It hurt, it really did, but I persevered. Kept trudging through the trenches. I remained strong in my belief that my dream would one day become reality. There it was. My dream was within reach again! But wait…what happened? I turned away for no more than a second, and it was gone. Someone had stolen my dream. Why? What would compel anyone to do such a thing? Could they not dream their own dream? Rage boiled inside me. You see, I was a very possessive person and did not like thieves. It was a simple matter of time before I was ready. Fully geared and ready for war. I would get my dream back no matter the cost. Return it to my rightful possession. Even if it meant I would fight until my last breath. And it didn’t matter if the thief was foe or friend. I was prepared to cut down anyone who stole my dream. May God have mercy on their souls…

Night Along the Beach

I’ll never forget walking along the beach at night and looking out to sea. The waters were darker than a starless sky. I didn’t think such a thing was possible. But I could see the white caps plain as day. As if they were ethereal ghosts dancing along the waves. Ethereal ghosts riding the waves to where I stood. It was gracefully scary, horrifingly beautiful. Chills racked my body when the opaque water surrounded my legs. How much of the unknown would come lap my feet? Yet, I couldn’t move. I was immobilized by the sensation. Greeted with a perfect mixture of cold and warmth. As the salted wind blew my hair about my face, I couldn’t tear my eyes away. Couldn’t cease staring at where two infinites met on the far horizon. Where two ancient powers shared space. Sky and water. The roar of the ocean defeaned the stars. Defeaned the voices in my head. I buried my toes in the sand as the withdrawing waves sucked it away. Felt the grains and broken seashells slide over my feet. I wasn’t worried about being cut, though there would be salt in the wound. I was watching, listening. For what, I’ll never know, but I was drawn, pulled by two invisible forces. I wanted to fly and swim at the same time. But I remained motionless. Motionless until I had to break myself away and walk back up the beach. I had to return the real world, unfortunately unable to stay in the fantasy forever. But that feeling–that sensation–will haunt my mind for the rest of my life. It was something I knew I’d never forget.

My Keeper

I refer to it as my Keeper. It becomes rather offended when I call it my guardian angel. It’s not exactly an angel. In all honesty, I think it’s a demon. But it doesn’t hurt me. It doesn’t crave my soul. It’s just…there, watching over me and caring for me. It never speaks, never tells me its name or even if it’s a boy or girl. I suppose that’s trivial to a being as such. It’s nothing but a shadow, really. A vapory form I sometimes see. It mostly stays invisible. But it helps me. When it’s dark, and I can’t find the lights, it makes noises so I know where to go. It moves objects out my way, reaches items that are too high for me to reach. When I have the hiccups, it jump scares me. Works every time. It also leaves me reminders on my bathroom mirror. Yesterday, the mirror had “Meeting: 9am” written on it. The first time a message happened, I thought the red gunk dripping down the glass was blood. I found out the hard way it was ketchup. I hate ketchup. It cooks for me, too. I’ll come home from work, and a candlelight dinner will be ready on the table. I wonder if it has a crush on me. Or if it’s the remains of my soulmate that perished before I met him. Although, I swear it’s half cat. When it gets bored, it flicks the lights off and on. Or it will knock something off the shelf, catch it, replace it, then knock it off again. I live alone, but I have it protecting me. Even follows me around in public. My friends brag about their guardian angels. I’m afraid to tell them about my guardian demon. Sometimes, when they make me feel insecure, it makes them look like fools. It definitely knows how to make me laugh. All in all, it’s strange. I often question the morality of it. But then it will catch the lamp I knock over and save it from falling on me or make me trip on the sidewalk so I don’t walk out in front of a speeding car. It keeps me safe. Keeps me happy, encouraged. Keeps me company. Keeps me alive. I wonder if it’s the manifestation of the part of me that died. It first appeared after I tried to take my own life but failed. I think it kept me from killing myself. That’s why I call it my Keeper.