M. Duda's Blog: The Cryo-Freeze II, page 10
March 28, 2017
Revisiting Book Reviews
This story starts off fast and only continues to build tension and, finally, horror. The book is really two stories, a backstory remembered and current events. But everything comes together for the main character, Malorie, at the end for a satisfying conclusion.
March 22, 2017
Grim’s Giveaway
Seven lucky winners will receive a copy of Bedtime for Seneca. Good luck!
March 15, 2017
Radio Drama: The Lord of the Rings
One of my favorite fantasies, The Lord of the Rings, was dramatized for radio in 1979. The Mind's Eye has produced over twenty quality adaptations of story greats such as Alice in Wonderland and Homer's The Odyssey. And like these other tales, J.R.R. Tolkien's work is sure to please your attentive ear.
March 5, 2017
In the Moon's Waning Light (Part 7 of The Beast of T'hal Kyun)
Is it wrong to bring the dead back to life? I still wasn’t sure. From my room’s window, I watched an evolving moon wane behind passing clouds that hid illuminating rays, reflecting.
When first starting on my expedition to restore my deceased wife, Sonia, to find the key of T’hal Kyun, the answer seemed obvious. The other men killed by that brutal jungle beast had thought the search was worth any risk, calling the key, “A supernatural marvel that bridges science to mystical forces.” Each of us had a personal demon that tormented our minds. Randal Sudyam regretted a murder, an act of momentary rage. John Marstent, harmful neglect. My own crime was an accident that had caused a fire. But our burning curiosities were terminated in screams, blood, and gore.
And after two more days of investigations within this palace, the old man’s key didn’t open any doors or locks that revealed eldritch secrets of necromancy. The clouds above pooled into dark masses of ink, hiding all of the moon’s light.
Before questing, I had read numerous texts about ancient gods and the Evil Ones. These writings read like a myth or a legend or the ramblings of a psychotic. T’hal Kyun, a fiery element of loss and regret, had plagued mankind by granting the reversals of misfortune: The dead returned and acted out vengeance against the living who had caused harm. The Evil One was banished into some nameless dimension. His forces of loss and regret were concentrated and captured into a key that could release the dark being from behind a door that patiently waited to be opened. All nonsense. But when more documents surfaced, demonstrating maps to an ancient jungle civilization along with photographs of dated artifacts retrieved from a hidden city, there seemed to be more to the story of the key of T’hal Kyun than just a fantasy conjured up by a madman’s imagination.
I now search to resolve a personal cause. Surely, my quest cannot be a sin against a larger humanity. I am an individual, acting out in a self-interest that only affects myself. Sonia’s face appeared in my mind. I smiled and looked up. The clouds moved aside and I basked in white light.
The tapping sound of that bizarre statuette in the hallway reached my ears. Tap-tap-tap. And a voice rose up from below my window, moaning, “My children. My beloved children.”
I looked down at an open courtyard. The moon revealed several transplanted willows, their sagging leaves seeming desperate to touch the ground. A soft wind disturbed the sallow things. And a shadowy man moved among the dying plants, a gold crown atop a head of grey bristle. He flitted around fungus-covered trunks before vanishing through a closed iron gate.
-M. Duda
When first starting on my expedition to restore my deceased wife, Sonia, to find the key of T’hal Kyun, the answer seemed obvious. The other men killed by that brutal jungle beast had thought the search was worth any risk, calling the key, “A supernatural marvel that bridges science to mystical forces.” Each of us had a personal demon that tormented our minds. Randal Sudyam regretted a murder, an act of momentary rage. John Marstent, harmful neglect. My own crime was an accident that had caused a fire. But our burning curiosities were terminated in screams, blood, and gore.
And after two more days of investigations within this palace, the old man’s key didn’t open any doors or locks that revealed eldritch secrets of necromancy. The clouds above pooled into dark masses of ink, hiding all of the moon’s light.
Before questing, I had read numerous texts about ancient gods and the Evil Ones. These writings read like a myth or a legend or the ramblings of a psychotic. T’hal Kyun, a fiery element of loss and regret, had plagued mankind by granting the reversals of misfortune: The dead returned and acted out vengeance against the living who had caused harm. The Evil One was banished into some nameless dimension. His forces of loss and regret were concentrated and captured into a key that could release the dark being from behind a door that patiently waited to be opened. All nonsense. But when more documents surfaced, demonstrating maps to an ancient jungle civilization along with photographs of dated artifacts retrieved from a hidden city, there seemed to be more to the story of the key of T’hal Kyun than just a fantasy conjured up by a madman’s imagination.
I now search to resolve a personal cause. Surely, my quest cannot be a sin against a larger humanity. I am an individual, acting out in a self-interest that only affects myself. Sonia’s face appeared in my mind. I smiled and looked up. The clouds moved aside and I basked in white light.
The tapping sound of that bizarre statuette in the hallway reached my ears. Tap-tap-tap. And a voice rose up from below my window, moaning, “My children. My beloved children.”
I looked down at an open courtyard. The moon revealed several transplanted willows, their sagging leaves seeming desperate to touch the ground. A soft wind disturbed the sallow things. And a shadowy man moved among the dying plants, a gold crown atop a head of grey bristle. He flitted around fungus-covered trunks before vanishing through a closed iron gate.
-M. Duda
In the Moon’s Waning Light (Part 7 of The Beast of T’hal Kyun)
I search to resolve a personal cause. Surely, my quest cannot be a sin against a larger humanity. I am an individual, acting out in a self-interest that only affects myself. Sonia's face appeared in my mind. I smiled and looked up. The clouds moved aside and I basked in white light.
March 1, 2017
Grim’s Giveaway
Eight lucky winners will receive an ebook copy of Deny the Father. Good luck!
February 21, 2017
Book Review: The Polygamist
But it's these travels and Omar, himself, that soon conjured up a different simile as I turned more pages: This story is like a flower.
February 15, 2017
Grim’s Giveaway
Seven lucky winners will receive a copy of Deny the Father. Good luck!
February 8, 2017
Great Book Reviews Courtesy of JenAcide
Jenaca always surprises me. She'll read probably most anything and tell you if she liked it or not. I have confidence in her reviews. And her site has made a lasting impression on me.
January 31, 2017
Flickering Candles (Part 6 of The Beast of T'hal Kyun)
At least twenty rooms in this unoccupied “palace” sat silent and dark. Silver plates of moldering food waited on bedside tables for unseen ghosts to return to unfinished meals. A yellowing bust of a crowned man rested on a hallway pedestal, empty eyes gazing at nothingness. My bare feet pattered on marble tiles and violated a vacant waiting room. Layers of dust stirred as I ventured into a nursery that hosted several empty cribs. The silence and emptiness almost seemed alive.
Except for the old man and the beautiful woman I had met earlier, no one resided here. The place was like a tomb without the obvious sepulchers and sarcophagi. That made the empty rooms even more unnerving, as if some sort of life could reside here.
I’d explore for a short while longer before giving up. But there were no clocks anywhere, and I couldn’t tell how much time passed. Should I just leave? Did that beast that almost killed me still wait in the jungle? I wasn’t sure of anything. I began searching for an exit when a flickering light down another hallway caught my eye.
I peered around a carved door frame.
The study contained several wood shelves of large tomes. Symbols, like the ones on my bedroom wall and elsewhere, marked the wide leather bindings. Bottles, desiccators, and cylinders littered a corner bench. A padlocked box sat in some sort of ornate cage. Several clay cups of wax and burning wicks cast dancing shadows on the walls and a seated figure.
It was the old man that had greeted me at the city gates. He hunched in a leather chair, staring at the wall and babbling nonsense to himself, “Was it right? Should I have? Of course, I should have.” His withered fingers tightly clutched something in his right hand.
“I should thank you for saving me,” I said.
He cocked his ear as if straining to hear something subtle. He leaned forward, looking away from me, staring at an empty wall.
“I should thank you, great king. I’m humbled,” he said.
I shook my head.
“My name is Lanning Chebb. A beast nearly killed me. By the city gates. Do you remember?”
He chuckled, throaty and dry.
“Do not be so modest, great king. I wait for the call.”
“Don’t you remember the beast? I was on an expedition. It killed everyone but me.”
“Are you testing me, great king? I still wait for T’hal Kyun.”
The words T’hal Kyun froze my body and stopped my breath for a moment, opening the scab of my wounded memory of my search for a ceremonial relic in a suffocating jungle, how several of us had hacked away at seemingly impossible overgrowth to clear an insignificant path toward some ancient and still undiscovered archaeological site and stinging insects devoured our blood for weeks and one man died of sickness along the way but we failed to find the key of T’hal Kyun.
And then that damn beast had appeared.
My nostrils flared. I stomped over to the old man and grabbed him by the shoulders.
“The key of T’hal Kyun. Where is it?”
A disoriented head bobbled as unfocused eyes darted about. His old hands reached out and touched my face. “Oh,” he declared. For the first time since entering this room, the old man looked at me.
“You are not the king,” he said.
“The key. Where is the key of T’hal Kyun?”
He smiled.
“Key? Here is a key, Unk’yr.”
He opened my palm and placed in it a metal object that he had been gripping. The metal instrument was scored and weathered. A three headed creature formed the bow of the key. Engraved tentacles covered the shaft. Two jagged bits ended the tip like fangs.
The old man stood up and pushed me away, surprisingly strong. He walked to the room entrance and turned to me.
“Unk’yr, you will soon find what you are looking for.”
He laughed and then he was gone.
-M. Duda
Except for the old man and the beautiful woman I had met earlier, no one resided here. The place was like a tomb without the obvious sepulchers and sarcophagi. That made the empty rooms even more unnerving, as if some sort of life could reside here.
I’d explore for a short while longer before giving up. But there were no clocks anywhere, and I couldn’t tell how much time passed. Should I just leave? Did that beast that almost killed me still wait in the jungle? I wasn’t sure of anything. I began searching for an exit when a flickering light down another hallway caught my eye.
I peered around a carved door frame.
The study contained several wood shelves of large tomes. Symbols, like the ones on my bedroom wall and elsewhere, marked the wide leather bindings. Bottles, desiccators, and cylinders littered a corner bench. A padlocked box sat in some sort of ornate cage. Several clay cups of wax and burning wicks cast dancing shadows on the walls and a seated figure.
It was the old man that had greeted me at the city gates. He hunched in a leather chair, staring at the wall and babbling nonsense to himself, “Was it right? Should I have? Of course, I should have.” His withered fingers tightly clutched something in his right hand.
“I should thank you for saving me,” I said.
He cocked his ear as if straining to hear something subtle. He leaned forward, looking away from me, staring at an empty wall.
“I should thank you, great king. I’m humbled,” he said.
I shook my head.
“My name is Lanning Chebb. A beast nearly killed me. By the city gates. Do you remember?”
He chuckled, throaty and dry.
“Do not be so modest, great king. I wait for the call.”
“Don’t you remember the beast? I was on an expedition. It killed everyone but me.”
“Are you testing me, great king? I still wait for T’hal Kyun.”
The words T’hal Kyun froze my body and stopped my breath for a moment, opening the scab of my wounded memory of my search for a ceremonial relic in a suffocating jungle, how several of us had hacked away at seemingly impossible overgrowth to clear an insignificant path toward some ancient and still undiscovered archaeological site and stinging insects devoured our blood for weeks and one man died of sickness along the way but we failed to find the key of T’hal Kyun.
And then that damn beast had appeared.
My nostrils flared. I stomped over to the old man and grabbed him by the shoulders.
“The key of T’hal Kyun. Where is it?”
A disoriented head bobbled as unfocused eyes darted about. His old hands reached out and touched my face. “Oh,” he declared. For the first time since entering this room, the old man looked at me.
“You are not the king,” he said.
“The key. Where is the key of T’hal Kyun?”
He smiled.
“Key? Here is a key, Unk’yr.”
He opened my palm and placed in it a metal object that he had been gripping. The metal instrument was scored and weathered. A three headed creature formed the bow of the key. Engraved tentacles covered the shaft. Two jagged bits ended the tip like fangs.
The old man stood up and pushed me away, surprisingly strong. He walked to the room entrance and turned to me.
“Unk’yr, you will soon find what you are looking for.”
He laughed and then he was gone.
-M. Duda
The Cryo-Freeze II
Michael is the author of several collections of short stories. Under pen name M. Duda, his titles include We Dream at Twilight and Whispers from the Grave.
His most recent story "The Sound of Blue" w ...more
His most recent story "The Sound of Blue" w ...more
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