Haiku

A new sun rises
The whole world begins again
I have found my home.

Duff (Another short story)

I had the idea for this one a while ago and wrote a paragraph of it. I think it can be expanded upon sometime later.


Something strange lingered in the air, an unnatural sense of excitement, or rather, anxiety. Duff pulled his hat a little lower in front to hide his eyes. As it was, he thought he was noticeable, since it wasn't a cool day and he was wearing a beige trench coat. No one really bothered to look at him; Denton, Texas didn't have any non-dangerous creeps walking around this time of year. Most people—the smart ones, at least—avoided even a quick glance. Always better, they probably thought, not to associate yourself with someone like him.
He smirked when he realized they were dead-on with him.
The building in front of him didn’t look that impressive. Its four stories had surprisingly small windows, maybe to save money. He didn’t see how, since the rest looked made of limestone. Ten other buildings of the same design had been built in the past year all over the city; this one stood as a sort of monolith in the center of town, noticeably taller than the buildings surrounding it. Duff had his doubts about its strength, but it was too late to do anything with those.
Duff stared the building up and down a few moments while he was on the sidewalk right in front of it before pulling a simple cell phone out of one of his pockets. He didn’t care much for the bells and whistles that came with the little devices and was amazed he’d been able to find one basic enough to fit his needs. He quickly dialed a number, not having bothered with speed-dial. It would have been too much hassle and provided a better means of tracing his activity, he thought.
“Hello?” said a voice on the other end. An employee, not very high-up, Duff thought to himself. If worst came to worst, the poor man would be collateral. C’est la vie, thought Duff. Such is life.
“I am standing in front of the building,” Duff said quietly.
“Please, enter. We are ready to begin staging the assault,” the man said, no emotion staining his voice.
“You may begin,” Duff said as he pulled the building’s door open and stepped inside. The first thing he noticed was the wave of cool air that pushed into him, and its scent. At first it appeared dry because of the humidity outside, but then the moisture prevailed. The smell reminded Duff of subway stations. The second thing he noticed was the lighting, harsh and artificial. The building itself looked like an office complex.
“Yes, sir,” the man said after a moment. “Please move to the second floor. Time is of the essence. Captures are already being made.”
“What is the count so far?” Duff asked as he made his way up the stairs, two at a time.
“You will see a map when you reach the room, but the numbers are at forty civilians, with most of the police force on the way.”
“So the disruptions have been loud?”
“Very, sir. We’ve already caught two hundred people at the borders and are trying to funnel them into proper evacuation points.”
“Have the police caught on yet?”
“They’ll notice the buildings soon, I’m sure, but right now we’re trying to get as many people into somewhere relatively safe. When would you like to make an announcement?”
“I’ll deal with that when I’m ready. Thank you for the information.”
“Glad to be of service, sir.”
Duff hung up the phone, walked into the room at the end of the hallway, and sat himself down in the single rolling chair. He removed his hat and placed it on the coat rack. He didn’t bother with the trench coat. On the wall in front of him was a touch-screen grid of the entire city, with red marking areas affected by his assault and green the places yet-untouched. The few specks of green were already disappearing.
“I never thought it would go this well,” Duff said to himself. He knew his people were good, but this was of another magnitude entirely. Rolling over to the screen, he experimentally tapped on the central area. He saw video camera footage and markings on the map of hostages and police entering his building. “I was just getting comfortable, too.”
Sighing, Duff rolled back to the desk, returned his hat to its place, and got up. Raising the microphone that was lying on the desk to his mouth, he inhaled and proceeded to speak.
“As you have seen by now, this is no small act of organized crime. You may call me Duff. That’s my name, in case you were wondering. My real incentive for doing this will be revealed later, so as not to create doubt among you. You may rightly guess me a lawbreaker, maybe even an outlaw. I deal in higher stakes than any of you pawns.
“Each of you stands in a building, one of eleven. If you are not in a basement, proceed there now or be killed. More people will be siphoned in. My intention is to make state government, at the very least, see what is happening. By now half the town is under the town, which I would call respectable, if I do say so myself.
“My deepest thanks goes out to my fine employees for doing such an admirable job. While I was the mastermind of this beautiful plan, you all have been essential parts in saving what now looks to be…” Duff paused, looking over at the screen. “Sixty thousand people.
“As I speak, planes are flying across a desert to drop a massive nuclear payload to annihilate this town. Like I said, you all have been pawns. Yet, in this great game of chess, the pawns are the strongest piece, for there are so many. Pawns like you can all reach the figurative other side, and become rooks and knights and queens in your own right.
“But, for the time being, you are stuck in a massive system of tunnels underneath a radioactive city. I have provided two months’ worth of rations, by which point in time paths should have been built to a nearby safe location. There should be enough space underneath the city to alleviate problems of claustrophobia, but in case there are any issues be sure to speak to any of my employees, who are all wearing nothing but red clothing.
“Thank you for your cooperation and I will be down shortly. If possible, I would like the police to either surrender their arms or accept the task of providing enforcement in these tunnels. I have given all of you a new lease on life and would be pleased to hear that you would like to join my cause. Please, have a happy few months exploring and getting accustomed to this sojourn. I’ll take care of the hard parts.”

Essence of Rage

It appears I can eliminate my own emotions by merely thinking up a story. Great stuff. This takes place in the same world as that fantasy story, still much in its infancy, and just sorta parallels it in good short story fashion.


The forest in which Robert and Lenora were having a training session may have looked peaceful from the outside, but was certainly not so in the grove where the practice was occurring. Robert didn’t even remember what the lesson had been about, only that it wasn’t clear when he and his mother had started. After a short argument, most birds had fled the immediate area for someplace quieter. Hearing the sound of their own voices, they halted for a moment.
“No, Mother,” Robert said dryly, “it was perfectly obvious from the get-go.”
A glare like he had never seen pierced him. “You have been trying my patience. I’ve endured your little hints and implications for long enough in this conversation. Your disrespect could not be clearer and I will not continue to tolerate it. Do not use that tone of voice with me again. Are we clear?”
“Yes, Mother,” Robert mumbled, staring at the ground. Inside, a seething rage boiled his blood. This woman infuriated him. Didn’t she realize that if she’d asked him, politely, if he had been suggesting something, he would have answered truthfully and this whole thing could have been averted? Too late now.
Excusing himself almost silently, Robert shuffled to a nearby pond, still looking down. The rage was eating him up inside. If he didn’t do something with it, he thought he’d explode. Opening his eyes wide, he tapped into his magic, pulling enough in to almost fill him. He didn’t think he’d need it all; he just wanted the comfort of having it there.
His thoughts gathered all into the rage itself: why it happened, what parts of him thought it was reasonable, and where it had infected. Picking it out, piece by piece, he gathered it in the palm of his hand, pieces twined by bits of magic. Looking at the pond, he thought he could have a little fun with this and try to skip the rage over to the other side. Changing its form into a perfect stone for the job, he chuckled.
The anger he felt was gone, forced into this little rock. Almost lazily he tossed it onto the water.
It sank before skipping even once.
Immediately the water started to bubble and fizz, hissing away madly as it boiled over. Everything with the breath of life in the pond moved itself to the surface immediately. Doing what any reasonable person would do—magic or no magic—Robert ran to a safe distance before seeing a geyser spray into the sky, utterly emptying the pond. After he stopped hearing the pelting of water striking leaves and branches, he walked back to the pond itself. Sitting there, where the bottom of the pond would be if it still existed, was his rock of rage.
Robert was surprised it wasn’t hotter to the touch. As he closed his hand around it, it seeped back into his system, barely noticeable. When it flowed in he swore he heard it say “quenched for now.” His mother eyed him curiously as he walked back over to her.
“What were you doing?” she asked.
“I guess you could call it meditating.”
The sunlight caught his eye through the trees and he sneezed. He didn’t expect a cup’s worth of water to come spraying out his nose.
“And what was that?” his mother asked.
“I…I don’t know,” he said, spitting out some more water.
“Sure,” she said. “Let’s get going; your father and sister are probably waiting for us to get back before they eat dinner.”