Sylvester Pilgrim's Blog - Posts Tagged "adventure"
Dark Earth - Book Two: The Harbingers
The parking lot he was approaching was a shortcut to the bridge over the Tiber River. Anyone walking to or from the clubs would take the same route, so it was a good place to possibly meet someone.
A figure stepped out as he was passing under the lot’s sign. He was shocked at first, but this quickly changed to disgust at the sight of the shabbily clothed man standing in front of him. His hair and beard were matted, and his clothing had seen better days. He smelled like a mixture of urine and sweat. Paolo nearly gagged. With effort, he resisted the urge to hold his breath, though he tried not to breathe too deeply.
Thoughts of the mysterious mummified bodies which had been turning up around Rome suddenly crossed his mind. He nearly laughed out loud at his overactive imagination. It was highly unlikely the derelict in front of him could be responsible. He was ready to dismiss the vagrant and walk around him when he noticed the man’s eyes. The hobo was blind but didn’t have the normal look of a sightless person. Initially, Paolo thought it was a trick of the light, but soon realized it wasn’t. His eyes were milky; but while one was white, the other was yellow.
A shiver inched down Paolo’s spine, and he started to walk past. The vagabond moved and blocked his way. He tried to sidestep him, but the man moved again.
“Look, I don’t have any spare change,” he said.
Those sightless eyes seemed to stare through him.
“It is not money we seek.”
Paolo shook his head due to the combination of the bum’s bad breath and his strange remark. “Then what the hell do you want?”
The vagrant stepped closer, leaned in and audibly sniffed at his neck.
“Get the fuck away from me!”
He shoved him back, but the fellow simply smiled. His teeth were caked with plaque. Paolo looked around. He’d said we. Maybe some of his homeless friends were lurking in the darkness between the parked cars. His fear eased when he saw that the shadows hid no one. At the same time, his pride was wounded at realizing that he was afraid of vagabonds. He’d never feared a street person before, but something about this guy had him on edge. After what had happened at the club, however, he now refused to be afraid.
“Don’t fuck with me,” he warned. “I’m not in the fucking mood.”
“Oh, we’re not going to fuck with you.”
His smile increased.
“Then get the—”
Before he could finish his sentence, the vagrant closed the distance. The man’s hand shot out, seized him by the throat and lifted him from the ground. He stared horrified into those strangely coloured eyes and grabbed at the fingers around his neck to pry them loose. It was like trying to straighten bent steel rods.
The hobo held him in his outstretched arm. His shabby clothes and bony frame hid massive strength.
His attacker suddenly pulled him closer and Paolo Marconi’s feet hit the ground with such force that his knees buckled. The man now towered over him and increased the pressure on his neck. He brought his face close again. His breath was overpowering.
To his continuing terror, those eyes shifted colours. First, the left was milky white and the right milky yellow, then the right became white and the left yellow. It was as though a lantern was moving behind them. The change made no sense and at that moment, he didn’t care. All he wanted was to be as far from the terrifying hobo as possible,
The bum opened his mouth wider, and the stench of his halitosis intensified. Marconi continued to struggle in his grasp. He tried to call for help but felt his trachea being crushed, cutting off all sound save a strangled gurgle.
“No, we are not going to fuck with you,” the vagrant growled.
He then flung him away like an oversized rag doll. Paolo flew through the air and landed painfully on his side, banging his right knee and elbow before rolling heavily onto his back. The impact left him winded, and he struggled to regain his breath. He pushed himself to focus through his agony.
Closing his eyes tightly, he willed the pain to stop. When he opened them, he saw his attacker stalking toward him. The man strode with the determination of an angry titan. Though his knee and elbow throbbed, he managed to push himself to his feet. Paolo admitted the man had gotten the drop on him. It wouldn’t happen again. He refused to be beaten by a smelly, penniless hobo.
His knee throbbed, but he continued to put weight on it. He couldn’t let his opponent know he was injured; he had to make him think he could still be a threat. It was unfortunate he didn’t think of himself the same way. He’d never met anyone with the strength this vagrant possessed, and he did his best to quell his fear.
Thoughts of the mummified bodies briefly flashed through his mind again, but he didn’t have time to dwell on them; his attacker was almost on him. Like a cobra strike, the derelict’s right hand lashed out and caught the left side of Paolo’s face. The force knocked him back, and stars exploded before his eyes. His head swam and his world tilted like a funhouse ride. Had it not been for the car he stumbled into, he would have fallen heavily back onto his back.
He managed to stay on his feet, but this was no blessing because his assailant gripped his throat again and dragged his face inches from his own. The vagabond then forced him to his knees before flinging him away once more.
A figure stepped out as he was passing under the lot’s sign. He was shocked at first, but this quickly changed to disgust at the sight of the shabbily clothed man standing in front of him. His hair and beard were matted, and his clothing had seen better days. He smelled like a mixture of urine and sweat. Paolo nearly gagged. With effort, he resisted the urge to hold his breath, though he tried not to breathe too deeply.
Thoughts of the mysterious mummified bodies which had been turning up around Rome suddenly crossed his mind. He nearly laughed out loud at his overactive imagination. It was highly unlikely the derelict in front of him could be responsible. He was ready to dismiss the vagrant and walk around him when he noticed the man’s eyes. The hobo was blind but didn’t have the normal look of a sightless person. Initially, Paolo thought it was a trick of the light, but soon realized it wasn’t. His eyes were milky; but while one was white, the other was yellow.
A shiver inched down Paolo’s spine, and he started to walk past. The vagabond moved and blocked his way. He tried to sidestep him, but the man moved again.
“Look, I don’t have any spare change,” he said.
Those sightless eyes seemed to stare through him.
“It is not money we seek.”
Paolo shook his head due to the combination of the bum’s bad breath and his strange remark. “Then what the hell do you want?”
The vagrant stepped closer, leaned in and audibly sniffed at his neck.
“Get the fuck away from me!”
He shoved him back, but the fellow simply smiled. His teeth were caked with plaque. Paolo looked around. He’d said we. Maybe some of his homeless friends were lurking in the darkness between the parked cars. His fear eased when he saw that the shadows hid no one. At the same time, his pride was wounded at realizing that he was afraid of vagabonds. He’d never feared a street person before, but something about this guy had him on edge. After what had happened at the club, however, he now refused to be afraid.
“Don’t fuck with me,” he warned. “I’m not in the fucking mood.”
“Oh, we’re not going to fuck with you.”
His smile increased.
“Then get the—”
Before he could finish his sentence, the vagrant closed the distance. The man’s hand shot out, seized him by the throat and lifted him from the ground. He stared horrified into those strangely coloured eyes and grabbed at the fingers around his neck to pry them loose. It was like trying to straighten bent steel rods.
The hobo held him in his outstretched arm. His shabby clothes and bony frame hid massive strength.
His attacker suddenly pulled him closer and Paolo Marconi’s feet hit the ground with such force that his knees buckled. The man now towered over him and increased the pressure on his neck. He brought his face close again. His breath was overpowering.
To his continuing terror, those eyes shifted colours. First, the left was milky white and the right milky yellow, then the right became white and the left yellow. It was as though a lantern was moving behind them. The change made no sense and at that moment, he didn’t care. All he wanted was to be as far from the terrifying hobo as possible,
The bum opened his mouth wider, and the stench of his halitosis intensified. Marconi continued to struggle in his grasp. He tried to call for help but felt his trachea being crushed, cutting off all sound save a strangled gurgle.
“No, we are not going to fuck with you,” the vagrant growled.
He then flung him away like an oversized rag doll. Paolo flew through the air and landed painfully on his side, banging his right knee and elbow before rolling heavily onto his back. The impact left him winded, and he struggled to regain his breath. He pushed himself to focus through his agony.
Closing his eyes tightly, he willed the pain to stop. When he opened them, he saw his attacker stalking toward him. The man strode with the determination of an angry titan. Though his knee and elbow throbbed, he managed to push himself to his feet. Paolo admitted the man had gotten the drop on him. It wouldn’t happen again. He refused to be beaten by a smelly, penniless hobo.
His knee throbbed, but he continued to put weight on it. He couldn’t let his opponent know he was injured; he had to make him think he could still be a threat. It was unfortunate he didn’t think of himself the same way. He’d never met anyone with the strength this vagrant possessed, and he did his best to quell his fear.
Thoughts of the mummified bodies briefly flashed through his mind again, but he didn’t have time to dwell on them; his attacker was almost on him. Like a cobra strike, the derelict’s right hand lashed out and caught the left side of Paolo’s face. The force knocked him back, and stars exploded before his eyes. His head swam and his world tilted like a funhouse ride. Had it not been for the car he stumbled into, he would have fallen heavily back onto his back.
He managed to stay on his feet, but this was no blessing because his assailant gripped his throat again and dragged his face inches from his own. The vagabond then forced him to his knees before flinging him away once more.
THE TYKEN CHRONICLES: THE NEEDS OF THE MANY
A deafening crack reverberated through the air, resembling a bolt of lightning striking nearby. ‘Vvwhump.’ Accompanying the sound was a blinding flash of light, leaving behind a lingering afterimage and a fading memory of a train station or platform. Unsure of which it was, Kevin Melfry tried to grasp the vanishing recollection. In that fleeting moment, he saw a young girl standing amidst a crowd, her long black hair slightly tousled by an uncertain breeze. Her big, innocent brown eyes pleaded with him, while the platform and its occupants stretched out before abruptly being whisked away, propelled back to unknown destinations.
As he regained his senses, Kevin found himself walking in what seemed to be an expanse of undulating grey clouds. Darker wisps, akin to bruises, interspersed within the vaporous waves. The billowing mist enveloped him on all sides, creating the illusion of being inside a room made of suspended water droplets. However, the boundless distance in every direction contradicted this enclosed sensation.
“Shall we begin?” a feminine voice filled the emptiness around him.
The voice didn’t boom; instead, it floated like a boat on a gentle current. There was a strange familiarity to it, triggering a long-lost memory which eluded Kevin’s grasp. Had he heard it before? He was simultaneously certain and uncertain, as remnants of conversations from a time and place he may have never experienced flitted through his mind.
Along with the faint recognition of the voice came a similar familiarity with his surroundings. It was no longer peculiar, though he couldn’t comprehend why. The persistent feeling of never having been there before gnawed at his memory, but Kevin resisted. He knew he had been there before, if not in a physical sense.
“Shall we begin?”
The words reverberated through the mist, coaxing Kevin to search for their source or a path to follow to it, but all he found was the endless expanse of swirling vapor. Was she waiting for something? Recognition perhaps? Acknowledgement to continue speaking?
Could he even speak in this eerie realm, and if so, what words should he choose? The peculiarity of the situation made him hesitate, but mustering his courage, he responded, “Yes.”
His reply echoed, starkly contrasting the melodic quality of hers.
To his surprise, the undulations in front of him halted, and a female stood before him; materializing from the fog. She stood slightly shorter than him, her brown hair, braided around her temples, cascaded over her shoulders. Her athletic build was evident even in her loose green tunic and light brown trousers. The well-worn knee-high boots she wore exuded ruggedness. A medallion reminiscent of a dream catcher hung from her neck. It emanated a palpable aura of power. Kevin knew the gem at its center was the source of their presence in this place.
No, he suddenly realized. It wasn’t just reminiscent of a dream catcher; it was the dream catcher he had received from that peculiar man. In fact he had to further correct himself because neither were actually dream catchers, he simply couldn’t think of any other way of referring to it—or them. He also couldn’t quite explain why he had accepted it. The man had seemed familiar, like encountering someone at a costume party whom you hadn’t seen in ages. Their disguise could hide their face, but not their distinctive traits.
“Do you remember?” she interrupted his thoughts.
Confusion persisted to nag at Kevin. He sensed he should know her and this place. They had both been here before, but he couldn’t recall when or how many times.
With a smile on her face, she approached. She bore a resemblance to his girlfriend, Trishia. Not that it was her; there was just something in the way she gazed at him which evoked the comparison. When she drew close enough, she raised her right hand, index finger extended. Her movements exuded the grace of a warrior, and he thought he detected magic—a potent, arcane energy—emanating from her finger.
“Remember,” she whispered, pressing her finger against his forehead.
At first, there was a subtle tingling where she’d touched him, but then a torrent of memories flooded his mind. Her touch had unlocked a treasure trove within his brain, and he remembered being here countless times, meeting her, training together. He, too, possessed magic—a power he had forgotten. And most importantly, Kevin Melfry remembered her name: it was Keilana.
“Do you remember?” Keilana asked once again.
“Yes,” he replied, newfound determination filling his voice.
“Show me.”
Kevin extended his hand, palm up, and focused his concentration. A pinprick of light materialized, swiftly growing into a vibrant yellow ball of energy. It hovered in his outstretched hand, sporadic arcs of electricity danced across its surface. The radiance from his creation illuminated Keilana’s eyes; accentuated the contours of her face.
“Good,” she smiled. “What else?”
He lowered his hand and the ball remained suspended in the air where his palm had been. As he channeled his will, the ball split into two equal-sized orbs of identical brilliance. In a mesmerizing display, the two spheres multiplied, giving birth to four.
Keilana observed with an ever-widening smile, emanating an aura of satisfaction similar to a proud parent admiring their child’s accomplishments. With a wave of her hand, four creatures stepped out of the fog. They looked like quadrupedal gorillas, and each possessed a large upturned curved horn at the center of its forehead. Their brown fur bore sickly patches of matted grey, and they clutched clubs. They also seemed disoriented by their unfamiliar surroundings, much like he had been initially.
Kevin heard low grunts coming from the creatures as they surveyed their surroundings, seemingly searching for an escape from this ethereal realm. One of them closed its eyes, raised its head and sniffed the air while swaying from side to side. Catching their scent, it turned in their direction, raised its arms high and let out a resounding roar. The remaining three beasts followed suit, fixating their attention on Kevin and Keilana, and began to advance. Awkward yet swift, they sought to encircle the duo.
Reacting quickly, Kevin unleashed his magic, dispatching two of the creatures. They convulsed on the ground, engulfed in yellow electric energy before succumbing to the encompassing mist. The other two had been able to counter, wielding their clubs to deflect his energy projectiles. The impact of his magic seemed to inflict pain upon them, evident from their roars and the smoke curling from their weapons and bodies. They quickly regained their composure and resumed their approach, one flanking from each side.
Kevin raised his hands, conjuring two translucent yellow barriers between them and their adversaries. The beasts collided with the shields and stumbled back before launching a ferocious assault; battering the barricades with their clubs. Each blow gave rise to trails of smoke and showers of sparks.
Keilana nodded approvingly. “Very good.”
Kevin glanced at her and smiled, before refocusing his attention on the creatures relentlessly pounding against his shields. He began to clench his fists and twist his wrists, causing the barriers to coil around the beasts, ensnaring them and restricting their movements. With each tightening grip of his hands, their prisons constricted further. The creatures howled a mixture of pain and anger. In a single swift motion, Kevin threw his arms down to his sides and the shields and creatures vanished with an implosion of light.
“You have learned well,” Keilana acknowledged.
“Yes, indeed he has,” another voice agreed. Unlike Keilana’s soft and warm tone, this voice carried a high-pitched, cold demeanor, tainted with malevolence.
Startled, Keilana swiftly turned, positioning herself protectively in front of Kevin, as if guarding a child. Her gesture unsettled him, for in all their training sessions within this realm, they had always been alone. He had never questioned their location, or at least, he couldn’t recall ever doing so. However, an instinctual sense whispered to him they were meant to be alone; it was a deep intuition hinting at the secrets of this place.
“You have done well with his training, but now he is ours,” the voice declared, followed by maniacal cackling.
As he regained his senses, Kevin found himself walking in what seemed to be an expanse of undulating grey clouds. Darker wisps, akin to bruises, interspersed within the vaporous waves. The billowing mist enveloped him on all sides, creating the illusion of being inside a room made of suspended water droplets. However, the boundless distance in every direction contradicted this enclosed sensation.
“Shall we begin?” a feminine voice filled the emptiness around him.
The voice didn’t boom; instead, it floated like a boat on a gentle current. There was a strange familiarity to it, triggering a long-lost memory which eluded Kevin’s grasp. Had he heard it before? He was simultaneously certain and uncertain, as remnants of conversations from a time and place he may have never experienced flitted through his mind.
Along with the faint recognition of the voice came a similar familiarity with his surroundings. It was no longer peculiar, though he couldn’t comprehend why. The persistent feeling of never having been there before gnawed at his memory, but Kevin resisted. He knew he had been there before, if not in a physical sense.
“Shall we begin?”
The words reverberated through the mist, coaxing Kevin to search for their source or a path to follow to it, but all he found was the endless expanse of swirling vapor. Was she waiting for something? Recognition perhaps? Acknowledgement to continue speaking?
Could he even speak in this eerie realm, and if so, what words should he choose? The peculiarity of the situation made him hesitate, but mustering his courage, he responded, “Yes.”
His reply echoed, starkly contrasting the melodic quality of hers.
To his surprise, the undulations in front of him halted, and a female stood before him; materializing from the fog. She stood slightly shorter than him, her brown hair, braided around her temples, cascaded over her shoulders. Her athletic build was evident even in her loose green tunic and light brown trousers. The well-worn knee-high boots she wore exuded ruggedness. A medallion reminiscent of a dream catcher hung from her neck. It emanated a palpable aura of power. Kevin knew the gem at its center was the source of their presence in this place.
No, he suddenly realized. It wasn’t just reminiscent of a dream catcher; it was the dream catcher he had received from that peculiar man. In fact he had to further correct himself because neither were actually dream catchers, he simply couldn’t think of any other way of referring to it—or them. He also couldn’t quite explain why he had accepted it. The man had seemed familiar, like encountering someone at a costume party whom you hadn’t seen in ages. Their disguise could hide their face, but not their distinctive traits.
“Do you remember?” she interrupted his thoughts.
Confusion persisted to nag at Kevin. He sensed he should know her and this place. They had both been here before, but he couldn’t recall when or how many times.
With a smile on her face, she approached. She bore a resemblance to his girlfriend, Trishia. Not that it was her; there was just something in the way she gazed at him which evoked the comparison. When she drew close enough, she raised her right hand, index finger extended. Her movements exuded the grace of a warrior, and he thought he detected magic—a potent, arcane energy—emanating from her finger.
“Remember,” she whispered, pressing her finger against his forehead.
At first, there was a subtle tingling where she’d touched him, but then a torrent of memories flooded his mind. Her touch had unlocked a treasure trove within his brain, and he remembered being here countless times, meeting her, training together. He, too, possessed magic—a power he had forgotten. And most importantly, Kevin Melfry remembered her name: it was Keilana.
“Do you remember?” Keilana asked once again.
“Yes,” he replied, newfound determination filling his voice.
“Show me.”
Kevin extended his hand, palm up, and focused his concentration. A pinprick of light materialized, swiftly growing into a vibrant yellow ball of energy. It hovered in his outstretched hand, sporadic arcs of electricity danced across its surface. The radiance from his creation illuminated Keilana’s eyes; accentuated the contours of her face.
“Good,” she smiled. “What else?”
He lowered his hand and the ball remained suspended in the air where his palm had been. As he channeled his will, the ball split into two equal-sized orbs of identical brilliance. In a mesmerizing display, the two spheres multiplied, giving birth to four.
Keilana observed with an ever-widening smile, emanating an aura of satisfaction similar to a proud parent admiring their child’s accomplishments. With a wave of her hand, four creatures stepped out of the fog. They looked like quadrupedal gorillas, and each possessed a large upturned curved horn at the center of its forehead. Their brown fur bore sickly patches of matted grey, and they clutched clubs. They also seemed disoriented by their unfamiliar surroundings, much like he had been initially.
Kevin heard low grunts coming from the creatures as they surveyed their surroundings, seemingly searching for an escape from this ethereal realm. One of them closed its eyes, raised its head and sniffed the air while swaying from side to side. Catching their scent, it turned in their direction, raised its arms high and let out a resounding roar. The remaining three beasts followed suit, fixating their attention on Kevin and Keilana, and began to advance. Awkward yet swift, they sought to encircle the duo.
Reacting quickly, Kevin unleashed his magic, dispatching two of the creatures. They convulsed on the ground, engulfed in yellow electric energy before succumbing to the encompassing mist. The other two had been able to counter, wielding their clubs to deflect his energy projectiles. The impact of his magic seemed to inflict pain upon them, evident from their roars and the smoke curling from their weapons and bodies. They quickly regained their composure and resumed their approach, one flanking from each side.
Kevin raised his hands, conjuring two translucent yellow barriers between them and their adversaries. The beasts collided with the shields and stumbled back before launching a ferocious assault; battering the barricades with their clubs. Each blow gave rise to trails of smoke and showers of sparks.
Keilana nodded approvingly. “Very good.”
Kevin glanced at her and smiled, before refocusing his attention on the creatures relentlessly pounding against his shields. He began to clench his fists and twist his wrists, causing the barriers to coil around the beasts, ensnaring them and restricting their movements. With each tightening grip of his hands, their prisons constricted further. The creatures howled a mixture of pain and anger. In a single swift motion, Kevin threw his arms down to his sides and the shields and creatures vanished with an implosion of light.
“You have learned well,” Keilana acknowledged.
“Yes, indeed he has,” another voice agreed. Unlike Keilana’s soft and warm tone, this voice carried a high-pitched, cold demeanor, tainted with malevolence.
Startled, Keilana swiftly turned, positioning herself protectively in front of Kevin, as if guarding a child. Her gesture unsettled him, for in all their training sessions within this realm, they had always been alone. He had never questioned their location, or at least, he couldn’t recall ever doing so. However, an instinctual sense whispered to him they were meant to be alone; it was a deep intuition hinting at the secrets of this place.
“You have done well with his training, but now he is ours,” the voice declared, followed by maniacal cackling.
The Harbingers
For a limited time, book two of my Dark Earth novella series is available free on Amazon. You don't need kindle reader, you can read it on your smartphone, tablet, Ipad, laptop or desktop:
https://www.amazon.com/s?k=sylvester+...
https://www.amazon.com/s?k=sylvester+...
