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Master of the Drunken Fist: Chapter 12

Welcome to chapter 12 of my 2012 NaNoWriMo winning novel Master of the Drunken Fist. Missed a previous chapter? Go to the Table of Contents and pick right up.

Chapter 12

Mike recovered from his latest trip to the void as he’d come to call it, and convinced Noelle he’d stay away from drinking. He kept up the sham for quite a while. In fact, it wasn’t too much of a sham since he didn’t drink for a while, but he never intended to stop visiting the void and the wonders beyond.

He thought long about the void and tried his best to understand what was happening. For instance, what exactly triggered his passage into the void? If it was the alcohol, as it seemed to be, then how did it work? Was it working on him like some odd time portal? Did it free his mind to the existence of alternate realities where he lived in these various adventures and situations? How did he find himself in these places? What dictated where he went and what he was doing? He had no concrete answers at all. The voice in him only said to continue on, and don’t let anyone stop him. He could do that.

He pondered the meaning of his talent, or gift, he wasn’t sure what to call it. Only that it meant he could go to places and times no one else could and he had the opportunity to explore places he never would have imagined.

He often thought of the brothers and what happened to them after the Sponser attack. It was a horrific event that felt so alive in his mind. The screams…the blood…the hatchet. He held on to that memento, keeping it in the garage hidden from Noelle. He wasn’t sure how he brought it back from the void. That puzzled him greatly. How could he possibly bring something back from another time and dimension? Did it affect reality when he did, like how they always said time travelers could in the movies? If it did, he wasn’t sure how it changed anything. Nothing seemed odd, except his new gift of travel, which to him, wasn’t so much odd as it was exciting.

Then he thought about the episode with Cortez and the storm. Never being one for boating, it was different finding himself out on the open sea, part of a crew, and surviving that monster storm. He’d never experienced anything like that before and was damn sure he was staying away from any boat or ship in the foreseeable future. Nothing about that appealed to him in the slightest. However he wondered what happened to Cortez, left laying on the beach, half dead, and the tribesmen taking him away. It didn’t look promising for Cortez, but there was nothing he could do from this side of the void. Well, nothing he knew of anyway. Cortez was on his own and from the condition Mike left him in, he wasn’t going to do much and most likely was dead already. Mike accepted it and let it go. Fate was cruel, and he couldn’t change things anyway.

One thought he returned to when thinking about his trips was just how he seemed to belong where he was at. The brothers thought he was one of them. They talked to him like they knew him forever. It was strange how familiar they seemed to be with Mike, even though he didn’t have a clue as to who they were. Cortez and the sailors were the same way. They didn’t think it unusual for him to just appear out of nowhere and be part of the crew. They too acted like he had a long history with them, as though he belonged.

He couldn’t reason out how this was. It confused him when it happened and still it boggled his mind. Everyone he met beyond the void seemed to think he belonged there. It was not unusual to them that he just showed up. He felt like he appeared out of nowhere, but they treated him as though he was with them all along. They didn’t seem to notice someone new pop up. He thought maybe when he appeared, that he ended up in someone else’s body and took control of their thoughts and actions. That would explain not being noticed when he appeared, and also explained how he was fluent in the native languages and would just “know” things like names and such. Those things tended to startle him when they happened, as though someone were in his head telling him what to think and say. As strange as it seemed, he was getting the hang of it.

One thing Mike knew for sure is that he thoroughly enjoyed his visits to the void. Sure, danger seemed to be around him each time, but it was way more excitement than he had in this life. It also seemed to mean something. In his current situation, he was nothing more than a glorified janitor, making less than decent pay, engaged to a beautiful woman. He had no prospects for advancing. His life seemed planned out and he could see the direction ahead. Straight ahead with little deviation. Monotony faced him squarely in the eyes. He had no hope for something greater than a life of obscurity in a small town. Eventually, he’d die, and no one would remember who he was.

But in the void, beyond it really, he was someone. He played a role in something greater than himself. He had no cares about a job. With the brothers, he was part of a group, and they cared for him. They were out looking for him, courting danger with the Sponsers, all to find him and bring him back. With Cortez, he was alive because of Mike. These people cared for him, way more than anyone in this life did, except for maybe Noelle. And at times, it seemed to Mike that her attention came with exceptions, and if he didn’t follow along, then he lost the privilege of being with her. It was all a test with her, and more often than not he failed…badly. With the brothers and Cortez, there was no test, just complete acceptance. It filled him with a sense of something greater than what this life gave him. He didn’t want to give that up.

Trying to tell Noelle that would have been an exercise in futility. He knew that no matter how much she claimed to love him, this would have been too much for her. She wouldn’t understand. He didn’t think anyone would. How could they? How could anyone know what he was going through? No one could relate. How many people in the history of the world had these kinds of experiences? None. No one had the ability he had, to go through some sort of portal and find themselves face to face with history. Thinking about it, he considered how crazy it would have sounded to someone else. He would never have believed it himself, had the evidence not told him otherwise. He was a time traveller, if not, then at least someone who had the ability to change dimensions. Either way, it was exhilarating to find himself in some new place, ready to take on whatever came his way. The only problem he saw was how to make it happen at will.

That was a concern of his. If he was going to use this ability to it’s fullest, he had to be able to figure out exactly how it worked. He had a sense that drinking played a part in it, but how much? Was it the place he drank that did it? He didn’t think so. The times he went to the void with the brothers, it was at Gene’s after he drank his special moonshine. When he visited Cortez, it was at his own home. So the locations had no special meaning, at least he didn’t think so. All he could figure out was that alcohol was the key, it had to be. All three times he left to the void, it was after drinking. However it worked, he didn’t know. What he did know is that contrary to the promise he made to Noe, he was going to keep drinking. People depended on it. There was no other way to get to them. It sounded so bizarre but it had to be the way. What other explanation was there? And how would he approach Noe about this? “Sorry dear, I have to drink. People are waiting on me. I have things to do and the only way to do it is by drinking. Sorry, but I got to.” Yeah, he thought, that would go over well. He knew better. She wouldn’t believe and so he was going to have to find a way to continue drinking without worrying her too much, or better yet, without her knowing. He’d figure it out. Someway, he would continue to drink. He saw no other way to reach the void.

Thanks for reading the latest chapter. I hope you’re enjoying the story. Feel free to leave a comment below and let me know what you think. Come back tomorrow for the next chapter of Master of the Drunken Fist.

Master of the Drunken Fist: Chapter 11

Welcome back! Here’s chapter 11 of Master of the Drunken Fist. If you need to catch up, check out the Table of Contents. Thanks!

Chapter 11

Several days passed while out at sea. Mike lost count of how many times the sun rose and sank while bobbing in the open sea. He and Cortez floated at the mercy of the waves, no direction at all. For the most part, they were quiet. Cortez seemed pretty beaten up about the situation. He was in a lot of pain and struggled to stay coherent. Mike did all he could to keep from passing out himself. He was cold, but not freezing in the sea. Luckily, they were in a more temperate part of the world, wherever that was.

One day, Cortez opened his eyes, looked at Mike, and whispered, “We must find land soon Miguel. We must.” And then drifted out of consciousness again. Mike wondered if Cortez was like him and would eventually escape this place and go back to another time.

While lost in thought, Mike looked up when he heard gulls making a racket. He hadn’t heard them in some time. They sounded strange to him, the silence of the sea being so prevalent. When he looked further out ahead of him, he swore lights illuminated the distance. Green was visible there too. Land! he thought. “Captain, Cortez…I see land!” Cortez barely moved. He was in bad shape. He moaned a little and that was it, passing out again. Mike started to push the two of them towards the light and green he saw in the distance.

Slowly, palm tree silhouettes filled more of his vision. The gulls got louder, the lights brighter. It was evening and the lights were a welcome beacon, calling him to shore. He swam with all the strength he had left. It was now or never, and he decided now was a better option. The shoreline grew in size, he could see torches beyond the trees along the beach. Sand never looked so good to him in his life. The waves carried him forward and eventually, he and Cortez ended up on the beach, breathless and thankful. Cortez appeared exhausted and pain filled Mike. He laid down on the sand, looking up at the stars, admiring the beauty of a full night sky with all the lights blinking. He didn’t recall seeing so many stars back in his own time.

He and Cortez rested on the beach for some time drying off after so many days soaking in the sea. Cortez needed help and Mike remembered seeing lights in the distance and decided to go get aid. He sat up, looked at Cortez and said, “You need help Captain. There are lights beyond the treeline. I’m going there to see what I can find.” Cortez struggled trying to tell Mike something, though what it was, Mike couldn’t guess. “You stay here Captain, and I’ll be back soon.” Cortez’s eyes widened, and with all his strength left, reached out and grabbed Mike’s arm. In the faintest of voices, he said “Savages…Aztecs” and fell back to the sand, weakened from his action. Mike considered for a moment what he meant, but he needed to do something, so he got up to leave.

Turning towards the trees, he saw four men approaching. They were menacing with war paint on their faces, small strips of cloth around their mid-sections, and bracelets up their arms. A couple had pony-tails, while the other two had very short, almost shaved heads. And pointing right at him were long, deadly looking spears held by each man.

“You are white skinned man from far,” the closest to him said.

  Wait, I can understand them too? I’ve never heard this language in my life!

The men did not speak Spanish as the sailors did, but some odd, confusing language that his mind easily understood. The world beyond the void never failed to surprise him. Approaching him, they struck him with a spear over the head, dropping him to his knees. One of the men ran to Mike and quickly tied his hands behind his back. “We do not like your kind here. You don’t belong. Our god will take care of you,” the one tying his hands said. “You and your friend, you will do good for him. He doesn’t like your kind and we must sacrifice to him. Now get up.” Mike struggled to stand. He wobbled a bit, and the next thing he knew, he was falling in the bright white of the void.

Opening his eyes he noticed Noelle staring at him. Looking around, he recognized the furnishings. He was in his bed.

“About damn time you got up Mike. How you feeling? I hope you’re hurting, you damn drunk.”

Mike’s head did hurt, right where the tribal man thumped him with his spear. “I’m…I…what?” was all he could reply. Going back and forth so quickly from the place beyond the void to his time now really screwed with his sense of being. Getting yelled at when wakening seemed like the worst way to start things off.

“Noe, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. I must have drank too much…”

“You’re damn right you drank too much! You made a fool out of me and yourself. I don’t know how much longer I can keep up with this Mike,” and she started to tear up. Mike hated that, it crushed him so much, because he knew he was responsible.

“Look Noe, I don’t know exactly what happened, but I do know that I was in another world, another place altogether.”

“I know you were, you blabbed on about nonsense, and about how you were gonna be a sailor someday. You drove off everyone with your ranting. Why do you have to keep doing this Mike? Why do you keep hurting me, and keep hurting yourself?”

Mike sat up, feeling dizzy when he did. “I’m sorry Noe, I really am. How long was I out?”

“You passed out around ten last night. It’s two thirty now. Honestly Mike, you have a problem. I will not sit back and watch you do this to yourself. You need to get straight if we are going to be married. Do you got that? I am not going to be married to a drunk, least of all to one that shouts about things that make no sense and scare everyone. This has to stop. The last few times you’ve had any kind of alcohol, you’ve ended up making a fool of yourself and passing out for hours, if not days at a time. That’s not good, and it’s not right.”

She paused then found the courage to continue. “You need to do something about it. I love you, and I want to help. I can’t stand seeing you this way Mike. Please, for us, do something.”

Mike sat there, stunned to hear what Noelle said. He thought these episodes were actually interesting and that maybe they meant something greater for him, as though he were a time traveler or something, doing some special work that mankind needed. It sounded hoaky, but he’d seen enough movies and played enough games to just believe it might be true. It was as though the alcoholic episodes were a portal to another dimension. And it was opened to him because he was chosen for some special purpose. He thought he was destined for something great, all because he could get drunk, go to another place, and have some sort of adventure. He felt it surely meant something important in the grand scheme of things.

And yet, here was Noelle getting on his case, wanting him to stop. He thought she didn’t understand him and she might try to stop him from fulfilling his purpose. She was crying because of his great gift. He thought about explaining it to her, telling her about the episodes and what happened, but thought maybe she wasn’t ready for the truth. She would tell him it wasn’t real, that he was having some kind of alcoholic delusions, and that wasn’t true. He was having adventures, and they were real, and they meant something. He wasn’t exactly sure what, but just knew they were vital. He was given a talent, a gift, of travel and of understanding that was so unique. So, he decided to do the only thing he could do, he lied to her.

“Noe, you’re right. I need help. I need to stop this. I’m sorry for putting you in this situation. We’ll do something about this, I promise.”

Noelle leaned over and kissed Mike. “Thank you, it means a lot to me,” she said through her tears. Mike felt guilt wash over him. He had no intention of stopping. He had to be careful, but he could and would do it. There was a small, gnawing feeling inside that told him it was right and it was necessary.

She left the room and Mike got up. Looking in the mirror, he saw no signs of the strike on his head. It hurt badly, but nothing indicated it was from a spear shaft. He smiled a bit, wondering what anyone would think if he told them what he experienced when they thought he was “passed out.” He figured he did more in his moments in the void and beyond than any of his friends did in their lifetime. He had something special, and he planned on keeping it that way.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave a comment below with your thoughts on the story. Come back tomorrow for chapter 12 of Master of the Drunken Fist.

Master of the Drunken Fist: Chapter 10

Welcome to the next chapter of my NaNoWriMo novel from 2012, Master of the Drunken Fist. Miss a chapter? Check out the Table of Contents and pick right back up.

Chapter 10

Mike slept peacefully enough. The swaying of the ship soothed him in a way he never knew possible. Waking, the world was bright and for the briefest of moments, he thought he was back in the void. The smell of salt on the air told him otherwise. Well, I didn’t wake up in the “real” world, so that’s new he thought while laying on his bunk. He half expected to wake to a world with cars and internet and cell phones, though now he knew different.

“Trouble on the starboard side sir!” he heard someone yell from the deck in flowery Spanish. He could almost get used to being immediately fluent in various languages like this. It was an interesting “super power” he suddenly developed. Imagine what I could do with that kind of skill back home he thought to himself smiling. He would be the most important person on earth. Well, he’d be valuable, that’s for sure. Just think of how many conflicts he could avert as an interpreter that knew exactly what everyone was saying in their native tongue, and to speak it in return.

“There’s a squall coming right at us sir!” the panicked voice yelled. That brought Mike to attention quick. He jumped out of his bunk and ran top side to see what the matter was, along with the rest of the crew. Sure enough, far on the starboard side, the meanest storm Mike had ever laid eyes on loomed menacingly. He heard of bad hurricanes before, but he’d never experienced one. Living in the Midwest, he tended not to see many of those. This storm looked fierce. The sky was almost black and the rain pounded the sea. Waves began to get a bit more choppy where they were at and he could feel the breeze kick up. He didn’t like the feel of this one bit. Not being a sailor at heart, he wasn’t sure what to expect from this.

The crew scrambled in every direction, tightening ropes, pulling down the sails, getting loose items down below deck. He didn’t know exactly what to do. He started to take some loose barrels down below when the wind gusted and tore free a sail. The wooden beam it was attached to swung around and knocked a sailor overboard. No one seemed to care as they ran around trying to prepare the ship. Mike rushed to the side where he fell and looked overboard to see him struggling in the waves. He looked for a life preserver, then realizing those things probably hadn’t been invented yet, he found some rope laying in a neat coil near the mast. Running to it, he pulled it free and tossed it over the side, only to miss the sailor badly. He hauled it in for another try, but as he was ready to let it go, waves overcame the sailor and he never bobbed back up. Mike cussed, wishing he could’ve done more. The ship rocked wildly now. Up one wave and crashing down the other side of it. The black sky crept closer to the ship and wind and rain pounded everything.

Most of the crew stayed on the deck, holding on to the rails along it for their lives as the ship lunged up and down. Sailors yelled and were instantly drowned out by the howling wind. He saw the captain at the huge wheel, trying to control the ship, though it seemed futile. The storm did what it wanted with the large ship. Through the wind, Mike heard the main mast crack and snap. It was carried off by the wind, falling to the side of the ship, pulling rope and men with it. Another crack, and the smaller sail in the front split cleanly and flew off into the sea. All that was left was a small sail in the rear of the ship, which the crew had managed to pull in and secure in time. From side to side and front to back, the ship tossed about.

Mike thought this was more real, more terrifying than those damn Sponsers ever were. He feared drowning, always had. And now, it seemed he was about to find out what it was like. He desperately hoped the void would take him back to the world he knew so well, take him away from this. He didn’t want to die here. He didn’t want to die clinging to a rail in the middle of some sea with men he didn’t know. This was not how he wanted it to end. He closed his eyes tightly, wishing, hoping, praying for the void to take him back. It was hard keeping them open with the salty water spraying in them, and he pressed his eyelids together to protect and pray.

He opened them just in time to see a huge wave overcome the ship. It crashed down on top of him, engulfing the entire ship in the cold surf. It swept a man overboard and Mike didn’t dare move. He couldn’t help the man if he wanted to. The wind and rain and pounding waves battered him about too much. His grip felt loose on the rail. Constant waves and rain made it hard to hold on to. Looking around him, he saw other sailors holding on for their lives, tossed around and beaten by the waves. The captain tried to hold the wheel, but it broke against the strong current of the sea. Now they were in trouble, with no way to steer and no way to control the ship, leaving their fate to the storm. Mike looked away, he couldn’t stare any more at the broken wheel. Dread and panic seeped in. He was doomed, and he knew it. There was no way to get out of this. The void failed him, and he was not a sailor. Briefly, he wondered what would happen if he died here? Would that mean he died for good in the other “lives” he lived? There was no way of knowing and he was in no hurry to find out. With that extra bit of resolve, he clung to the rail with both hands, while intertwining his feet around them to get the most secure grip he could.

Just then, two waves converged on the deck, one from both sides. They slammed down with such ferocity that Mike thought they killed him on impact. That was only false hope. Instead, they broke apart the ship. It was as though the ship were a twig it broke so easily under the crushing blow of the waves. Sailors screamed and could be heard over the sound of the storm. Crunching and tearing accompanied the screams as the ship split, the front and back sections going in different directions. The middle, where the waves struck, leaned into the sea while the ends of the ship stuck up high in the air, blown by the strong winds. Mike felt himself rise up in the air with his section of the ship. Then, it began to slip into the water. He had visions of the Titanic, sinking in those icy waters so many years ago, and wondered where the life boats were now. Loud suction and creaking sounds filled his ears as the ship started its downward slide. Debris slid down the deck, hitting him all over. He closed his eyes as the stinging salt water and who knows what from the deck splashed over him. It was the end, he could feel it. He longed for the void. It didn’t come.

His section of the ship, the back end, the aft he heard himself say, quickly descended into the dark, cold water. The force of the sinking ship submerged him and held him under. Somehow, he broke free and swam up to get some air. Reaching the surface, he saw debris everywhere being tossed around on the monstrous waves. He tried to grab a hold of a barrel and got just enough of a grip for it to keep him from going completely under. Wrapping his arms and legs around it, he tried to not get pulled under the rough sea again. He took on a lot of water, swallowing more and more as the storm raged. He tried spitting it out, but only got more salt water poured in. He choked and coughed on the sea. A man bobbed up and down amid the waves, tossed with the pieces of the ship and various items from its cargo. There was no ship now, just a part of the last mast sticking up from the water. Waves moved it up and down until eventually the sea claimed it for its own.

Then everything went still. The storm raged on all sides, but the rain and winds stopped beating down on him. He must be in the eye, at least he thought that’s what it was like from what news stories he saw and read told him. He looked around to see utter devastation. Wood, barrels, parts of the sails, and clothes all dotted the sea. It was like a scene from a tornado touchdown, but only moving as the waves swelled.

It wasn’t long before the rest of the storm passed, though it felt weaker to Mike. The waves weren’t as high or ferocious. Only once did they knock him off the barrel. He clung to that barrel for what felt like hours after the eye passed him. Finally, the rain stopped and the winds died. The sea started to relax it’s vicious movement, settling down quickly.

In the clear after the storm, sunlight streamed in, bathing everything in a weird cheerfulness. The scene around Mike told of nothing but destruction. He looked frantically for more survivors and heard some moaning off in the distance. With what little strength lay in him, he swam in the direction of the sound, pushing the barrel along. He hit various chunks of wood as he moved along, as well as some body parts that floated up to the surface. Arms, legs, and for a moment he thought he saw a head bob up, though it was at such an odd angle, he thought it must have been severed from it’s body, so he moved a bit farther from it.

Eventually, as exhaustion settled in, he came upon a sailor holding on to planks that looked to have come from the deck. As he got closer, he noticed the man was the captain of the ship. Ferdinand Cortez the voice inside said. Mike paused at that recognition. Cortez? he thought. Wasn’t that some famous explorer or something? Didn’t he go to Mexico or somewhere like that? The captain let out a loud moan that broke Mike’s thoughts. He swam closer to see that his arm was badly injured.

“Captain, are you alright?” Mike said in fluent Spanish. It still struck him as odd when it left his lips.

“No, my arm is hurt bad. I think it’s broken. I can’t hold on for much longer.”

Mike saw some cloth floating nearby and reached out for it. He grabbed the two planks Cortez was floating on, and with the barrel between them, fastened a crude safety boat. But, it worked. He helped the captain up on the barrel in a way that allowed him to drape his arms around both sides to rest from all the swimming. Mike held on to one of the planks to keep himself afloat. Finally, he was able to get some rest. He was beyond tired. His body felt like giving in, but he wouldn’t let it. He made it this far, he was damned if he’d fail now. All he needed was to find land. As if it were that easy.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave a comment below, I’m curious to know your thoughts. Come back tomorrow for the next chapter of Master of the Drunken Fist.

Master of the Drunken Fist: Chapter 9

Welcome back to the next installment of Master of the Drunken Fist. Here’s chapter 9. If you want to catch up, check out the Table of Contents and start from the beginning or find the last chapter you’ve read.

Please note this story contains an excessive amount of cussing and alcohol use.

Chapter 9

Mike stayed sober, well, somewhat sober, for the better part of four months after his last incident with the void and the encounter with the Sponsers. He had a beer a couple times within that period, but he didn’t get drunk like he did that night. He felt good about his control over alcohol, in fact, he just felt as though it wasn’t even a problem. It was as though the Sponsers had scared him straight, for the most part. With that confidence in himself and his ability to only have a couple and not go all crazy, he was sure nothing was going to break it.

Noelle’s birthday challenged this confidence. He threw a party for her, partly to make up for how bad he had treated her, and partly because he was going to propose to her, finally. He figured it would be the perfect time to take their relationship to the next level.

They had the usual friends, and cake, and her favorite drink, margaritas. He enjoyed them immensely. They reminded him of the vacation they took to Mexico. It was such a great time. They were so laid back and free then. Now, it seemed like work consumed them. So, the occasional margarita always brought back those fond memories for him. Noelle felt the same, but she also just enjoyed the taste. She had always had a fondness for them ever since she began drinking in high school.

Mike was on his second or third drink of the evening when he decided it was time to make his move and propose. He gathered everyone on the patio in the back and stood on the steps facing them. He had a drink in one hand, which one is this? he thought, my third or fourth? He began to talk about his love for Noelle and how much she had been there for him. She was blushing and tried to hush him, hating the spotlight on her like that. Mike reached out his hand and pulled her up to the step he was standing on. Getting down on one knee, he began. “Noe, you know I love you and you know…” and then it went horribly wrong.

***

Stark white blinded him. For a moment, he thought maybe he was looking at headlights. He couldn’t hear the music from the party any longer. He felt a coldness surround him. The void enveloped him again.

Oh no, not again, he thought. Tears began forming in his eyes. He was positive he kicked this, gotten rid of these visions long ago. How could this be happening, and now of all times! He was moments from proposing to Noe and starting a new chapter in their lives! The empty, blinding white of the void had other ideas it seemed.

He started walking forward, familiar with the drill of the void. He wondered what became of the brothers. How long was I gone from here? he questioned. It was a strange feeling to be back here, yet it all felt familiar, like he belonged here. It was in the void that he was able to actually do something to help someone, as he recalled killing one of those evil Sponsers. He couldn’t stop them all, but he made them pay for what they did to the brothers.

It seemed like he walked forever in the void. Eventually a pinpoint of light appeared ahead. He had hope, and fear for what lay beyond. It was exhilarating. Getting closer, he found mostly blue showing through the hole which grew larger and larger. And it bobbed up and down, as though it were moving. That seemed odd. He’d never seen it do that before in his previous trips here. He also smelled…the ocean? Where was he going? He remembered forests and hills from before. This was different.

Finally, he approached the opening and the sight astounded him. He was looking out over the sea, as though he were on a ship, rolling up and down large, gentle waves. He had never been the biggest fan of boating, but the void led him here, and maybe to the brothers as well. He stepped through the hole, ready to find the answers.

He stepped out onto the deck of a large ship with huge sails. It flew a flag he didn’t recognize, though his first thought was relief that it wasn’t one of those black pirate flags. There were numerous men on board, all busy with some sort of work.

“Hey, get to work you damn scrub!” the man next to him yelled. But, it was odd. He spoke in Spanish, yet Mike understood him clearly. He never took Spanish in school, opting instead for French. Yet here he was, being spoken to in Spanish and making complete sense of it. He didn’t have a clue what to do, he’d never been sailing before.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I don’t know what to do.” As he said the words, he heard them in his normal, plain English, but they came out in fluent Spanish as though he spoke it his entire life. His eyes grew large at the thought. He had something similar happen with the brothers. What the hell happened to me? How can I be doing this?

Just then, the large man slapped him on the back. “You best get to your duties or you are gonna find yourself in the brig. Got it?” And it was all spoken to him in the clearest Spanish, of which he understood it all. Where am I? he thought as he tried to figure out what it was that the man wanted him to do. Looking at his hands, he realized he was holding a bucket and a what appeared to be a mop. The bucket was made of wood and the mop was barely recognizable as a mop, but it seemed to be the right thing as he looked up at the man who nodded back, giving a look towards the deck. Well, if there was something Mike knew, it was how to clean. He hadn’t become head custodian by sitting on his ass at work. So, he did what felt natural. He started mopping the deck. Don’t they call this swabbing the deck, or something like that? he said to himself and grinned. It was all a bit funny and a touch bizarre to him at the moment.

He heard men talking near him about “India” and riches and “the king,” whoever that was. He heard them talk about “savages” and the need to be careful when they landed. It sounded like they were almost at the end of their journey on this destination.

The rolling of the ship made it hard for him to concentrate on the mop and the conversation. Things rolled around and his bucket moved all over the place. Salty spray of water occasionally splashed over the edge of the ship. Looking out at sea, all he could see was water. Waves rolled as far as he could see in all directions. There were some gulls circling above. They seemed to be part of the ship.

Darkness descended on the ship and the call was made for dinner time. Mike followed the rest of the men downstairs into a large room with several tables. He was given some kind of food that looked like oatmeal, though it didn’t smell or taste like it. It almost made him vomit. He tried to shovel some down, though it was hard to swallow. He was given a biscuit and it was hard as a rock with small bugs crawling on it. He noticed the other men all eating theirs and when one of them noticed his grimace, he smiled at Mike. “Miguel, since when do you not like the weevils? You always take to your biscuit!” Mike frowned a bit. What have I gotten into this time? “Sorry Luis, I guess they are getting to me.” Luis? how did I… and then remembered those strange memories coming to him when he was with the brothers, how their names and things would just be there, be a part of who he was as though he always was in this life, whatever it may be.

After dinner, they were all told to get back to their bunks. They were approaching land soon and they’d need their rest. Mike walked with the others to find the way. Once there, he found the bunk that was his. He had an impression that it was the right one, just like he did with the names. He laid down, swaying with the ship on the waves, and tried to reason it all out.

The best he could come up with was that he was on some old Spanish sailing ship on the way to…America? It seemed like something from history class. He felt like he was on one of those ships that came to the America’s on an exploration. Wait, he thought, didn’t they call the Spanish conquistadors because they came over to the “New World” to conquer it? Is that what this is? I’m on one of those voyages to conquer some Native Americans? He didn’t know what to make of that. It all seemed to make sense as he fit the pieces together. And his job in this adventure was to clean the damn decks! He tried falling asleep in his bunk. He was tired. He was lost. Noe was going to leave him for sure if he ever got back from here.

Laying in his bunk, Mike wondered if he’d wake up on the ship or someplace else back in the real world. Things were beginning to blend together for him in his mind, and what was “real” and what wasn’t became harder to distinguish. He felt “real” here on the ship. His body swayed with the rolling waves. He could see things moving with the ship. He could smell the salty air and the body odor of the crew. He tasted the disgusting food he had for dinner. He heard the men talking and yelling at him. His arms were sore from his chores on the deck. Yet, he knew it must not be real. He lived in the twenty-first century, in a small town, as the head custodian of the Eagle Cap factory. He drove a small Nissan Altima. He had a girlfriend, no a fiance now he reminded himself. That was reality. But somehow, it didn’t all seem to fit. He remembered the brothers, they were real. Well, he thought they were. He remembered the anguish on their faces as the Sponsers swooped in and mauled them. He remembered the blackness of those vile creatures. That was real. He had the hatchett, in the twenty-first century version of himself, to tell him it was real. But how? How did all these various personas, these seemingly separate lives, come together in him? It made no sense, but at the same time, it made perfect sense.

He couldn’t explain it, but somehow, it all made perfect sense. It was as though all these versions of him existed, together, yet apart, and it felt right to him. He started to drift off, not caring anymore what one person might consider real and another call a fantasy. He determined that no matter what, no matter what time in history, no matter the situation, he was going to be the best damn Mike, or Mikey, or Miguel that he could be. They would all remember his name.

Thanks for reading! I’d love to hear your thoughts. Please leave a comment below and let me know what you think! Come back tomorrow for the next chapter of Master of the Drunken Fist.

Master of the Drunken Fist: Chapter 8

Here’s the latest, chapter 8 of Master of the Drunken Fist.

Chapter 8

It took about half an hour for Mike to find his bearings, but eventually he made his way to a familiar road which took him home. He was surprised about being out for a couple days, and more surprised by the “bloody” hatchet in his car. Looking at it gave him chills. He still wasn’t sure what to make of it all. Was it real? he thought. The answer never seemed clear. At times he thought it was all just a figment of his imagination, yet with evidence staring right at him, he wasn’t so sure. All he knew was that those Sponsers didn’t seem like anything he’d ever heard about in his life.

Pulling into his driveway, he saw Noelle on the front porch. She looked like hell. His staying gone must have hit her hard. He felt that all too familiar feeling of regret and despair just at the sight of her. He had done so wrong by her. To see that she still cared even after his horrible treatment of her made him feel guilty and unworthy. Self loathing, that old friend of his, began to creep up and make itself known.

After parking his car, he slowly walked to Noelle. She had been crying, that much he could see. He walked up and to embrace her and when he got close to her, she stepped back and smacked him as hard as she could across his cheek.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again, do you understand!”

“Fuck Noe, I’m sorry. I really am. I deserve that. Please, please don’t leave me. I need you Noe. I’m so messed up right now. I don’t want you leaving.”

Noelle started to say something but instead threw her arms around him, sobbing, as she held on tightly. Through her tears she said, “I’m not going anywhere Mike. I love you. You need help.” They just stood there for several minutes, holding each other close. He never felt any more comfortable than when he was in her arms. He felt love, security, and peace there. All the things he wanted in life, all right there in Noe’s arms. If he died there, he would die a happy man.

They went inside and Mike went straight to the shower. He was out for a couple days and needed to be cleaned up bad. A nice hot shower was just the thing.

They slept together that night. Mike never wanted to lose all he had with Noelle, being with her reminded him how good he had it. Those strange dreams, or visions, or whatever they were, kept him away from her. He had to try his hardest to stay away from them. Anything that took him away from her had to be bad, and had to be removed from his life.

The next day, he went about trying to patch things up. He was the model boyfriend to Noelle. He cleaned, he cooked, and he waited on her hand and foot. He called his boss at home and begged for his job. He had no real excuse for why he missed…again…and wasn’t sure how his boss would take it. Luckily, he felt bad for Mike and gave him one last opportunity to keep his job with the understanding that one more time, and it was all over, no more chances. Relieved, Mike spent the rest of the day relaxing at home with Noelle, confident in his new resolution to stay away from alcohol, to stay away from what was bringing him away from Noelle.

And for several weeks, Mike stayed away from all alcohol. He stayed away from Gene’s place, even when they guys from work would rib him about it, he would just smile, think of Noelle, and walk the other way. It was fine by him if they said he was whipped, or that Noe wore the pants in his relationship. She was a good woman and he was determined not to screw that up. The only thing that bothered him during that time of sobriety was the hatchet.

How did that thing get in his car? Where did it come from? If the void wasn’t real, then what was it doing in his car? If he had a hallucination about the whole thing, fine, but how did he get a real object that he used in the hallucination in his car? And with that thick, black “blood” on it? He was deeply concerned that maybe he did something horrific while blacked out. His car was pretty far away from anywhere and the possibility of it being something bad scared him.

Driving through town since the incident tended to bring him great anxiety. He figured that at any moment, the police were going to pull him over for murder or something crazy like that and he wouldn’t have any idea about it except this black-bloodied hatchet. It scared him immensely. He heard of people getting so wasted on drugs, like those nasty bath salts, that they literally were out of their minds and did things they never could remember. Like that guy in Florida who acted like a zombie and started eating a homeless guy. Could he have done something like that with the hatchet? Was there something in the ‘shine, kinda like the bath salts, that drove his mind over the edge? He planned on staying away from that stuff anyway. But getting to the truth of what happened was another thing. And to be honest, he wasn’t so sure he wanted to find out the truth. He could hear that line, “You can’t handle the truth!” yelling in his head when he thought of that. You’re right Jack, I don’t think I can, he said in reply.

Mike determined to stay clear of anything that would cloud his judgement for a while. This had him spooked. Who knew what kinds of things would set him off and what he was capable of.

One day after work, after being sober for about two months with no end in sight to it, he stopped Jared at work. “Hey Jared, can we talk after work?”

“Sure man, anything wrong?”

“Nah, just got a few questions and stuff, that’s all. I’d just rather not do it here while we’re working.”

“Yeah, I’ll catch you after then.”

It was a little after five when Jared finally left the factory and Mike waited for him by his car. “Hey Mike, what’s going on? You ok?”

Mike and Jared weren’t the closest of friends, more like those work friends that you sometimes hang out with but don’t share your deepest thoughts and concerns with. But, they did drink together a lot and sometimes that bond goes a bit further than others.

“Yeah Jared, I’m good. I just wanted to talk to you about that time several weeks ago at Gene’s, that time I got messed up on his ‘shine.”

“Oh man, you were lit up! You took one sip of that stuff and I knew it was over.”

“Well, yeah, it kinda was. What happened? How much did I actually have?”

“What? You mean you don’t remember?”

“Nah, not at all.” He leaned against Jared’s car and waited for his reply.

“Well, umm, ok. Do you remember drinking at all?

“All I remember was having that first drink, and then…well, I woke up in my car.” He was not about to start telling him about the void and the brothers and the Sponsers, or the hatchet. Not yet.

“Damn Mike. You had way more than one drink. You downed that first one like it was water and asked for more. Gene happily poured another and you did just the same. We were all gasping and weezing because it burnt so bad, but you…you just acted like it was nothing and drank more and more of it. You started to get loud and talked about getting you some sponsor for AA ‘cause you were an alcoholic. It was funny, but started to get out of control. We got a bit worried. The twins decided to take you home after about an hour or so. It didn’t take you long to get wasted. Noelle wasn’t there yet, so they walked you in and left you. I guess you must have had other plans ‘cause you took your car and drove off into who knows where. We didn’t hear from you for days. Noelle called all of us and even the cops. You sure you don’t remember any of that?”

Mike stood there, leaning on the car dazed and focused on some crack in the parking lot. Sponsors? He couldn’t get his mind off of that. He spoke about AA sponsors to them? Were that what those black things represented in his visions, if they were visions? He was more confused than before. It was as though his mind was melding reality and fantasy into a tight knot that he couldn’t unravel. He had no idea what to believe. It was all so…fucked up. What was going on in him? It all felt real, but it couldn’t possibly be, yet he had bruises, cramps, and a damn hatchet that all told him it was.

“Mike, you alright man?”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I did that? Damn I don’t remember any of that.”

“Yeah, looking back at it, it’s not so funny anymore. At the time, you were a riot. You went on and on about getting you a sponsor because you had a problem and then you’d drink another glass of the ‘shine and we’d all laugh. I guess it was a bit more serious than we thought. Look, I’m sorry about that. I feel bad.”

“No, no don’t worry about it. I just wanted to know. Thanks.”

“Yeah, no problem. I hope we didn’t screw things up for you and Noelle.”

“Nah, we’re good,” and he walked away, hands in his pockets, thinking about what Jared told him. The whole drive home, he couldn’t get his mind off of the Sponsers and the brothers and all that happened.

Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment below, let me know what you think of the story so far. Come back tomorrow for chapter 9 of Master of the Drunken Fist. Click here for the Table of Contents and links for the chapters.

Master of the Drunken Fist: Chapter 7

Welcome back! I hope you’re ready for the next chapter of Master of the Drunken Fist.

Chapter 7

Brilliant sunshine beat down on Mike as he awoke from the void. At first, he thought he was still there, but the blaring of a semi’s horn told him otherwise. There weren’t any sounds like that there, were there? He thought. He pondered that for the briefest of moments as the sound of another horn brought him back to the present.

He was in his car, about a mile from Gene’s, off the side of the road. He was at the bottom of the large hill that indicated he was in “the bottoms,” a part of the land so called because the hills ended there and emptied out to flat, fertile soil. It was only eight miles from Brownsville, but felt so much further.

Sunlight burned him through the glass. It must have been late afternoon by the location of the sun in the sky. He looked to his watch, and he was right, it was 3:45. Oh my God, he thought, I’ve been here for hours! Noelle must be going crazy mad! He looked in the cup holder for his phone where he normally put it, and noticed he had six missed calls. All but one was from Noelle, the other was from work. Damn! This is gonna be hard to get out of, he said as he hit the voicemail button and started to listen.

This message recorded, Thursday, April 19th at eleven fifty-two, PM: Mike, this is Noelle. Where are you? I’ve been back home for about an hour and you are no where to be found. I called Gene’s and you aren’t there. Where are you?

  This message recorded, Friday, April 20th at twelve fifteen, AM: Damn it Mike, where are you? Are you getting drunk again? Call me as soon as you get this, I’m worried. Gene said you left hours ago and no one has seen you.

  This message recorded, Friday, April 20th at three ten, AM: Mike, I’ve been up all night. Where are you? I tried looking for you at your usual spots, but you aren’t anywhere. Mike, please, please call me back. Let me know you are ok. I don’t care if you are drunk, please call me.

  This message recorded, Friday, April 20th at eight twenty-one, AM: Mike, this is your boss, Randall. Where are you? You are twenty minutes late with no excuse and no call-in. This will go on your permanent record. You had better call me back soon or look for another job.

  This message recorded, Friday, April 20th, at six o-five, PM: Mike, this is Noelle. Where the fuck are you? Why are you not answering me? Your boss called today and no one knows what happened or where you went to. Call me back!

  This message recorded, Saturday, April 21st, at five six-teen, PM: Mike, I don’t know where you are or what you are up to. I’ve called the police to report you missing. If this is some joke, you best let me know now. If you are hurt, we are looking for you. Please Mike, call me back.

 Oh my God, he thought, I’ve been out for days! I’ve never, ever had that happen before. What is going on? Have I been here the whole time?

Mike got out of the car to clear his head. He was screwed any way you look at it. His job, his girl, and the police! Why did she call them? He looked down the road both ways and understood why no one saw him. He was in the brush on a backroad that was rarely travelled. His car looked almost hidden in the bushes and scrubs. The sun had just the smallest hole in the brush with which to awaken him like it did. He walked around the car, the urge to relieve himself strong and painful. He took care of it and leaned on the car, trying to think.

What about the brothers? Where are they? And those…Sponsers. What about them? He felt a cramp in his right hand, as though he gripped on something too hard for too long. The hatchett? He asked himself. No, it can’t be. None of that was real, was it? I mean, it felt real and I remember cleaving that black skull, but it wasn’t real, was it? Honestly, he couldn’t tell one way or the other. It felt so alive and real to him, but those things were not of this world and couldn’t possibly be real. But, at the same time, it all felt real. He half expected a Sponser to fly out of the woods at any moment and claw it’s way through his flesh and muscle like it did to the brothers. He looked over his shoulder just to be sure, but felt stupid the moment he did.

He had a difficult time differentiating between reality and..well, whatever it was he experienced with the brothers. He felt a tinge of guilt though as he thought of the brothers being taken away, screaming and in a panic, while he was here, safe, and smelling like shit. But that wasn’t real he tried telling himself. It was all a dream. They were some fucked up visions in your head. You can’t feel guilt towards fake people, can you? They were just visualizations of your sub-conscience, or something like that. He thought on that a moment, and then walked back to the driver’s side door.

Reaching in, he picked up his phone to call Noelle. He had to start there. She was going to be pissed and give him an earful for days, or weeks even, but he had to start there. So, with a bit of hesitation, he pressed her number.

It rang a couple times and she answered. “Mike, Mike, is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me Noe.”

“Well where the fuck have you been? Do you know I have the cops out looking for you? I’ve been worried to death thinking about what happened to you!”

“I…I know, and I’m sorry Noe. I got drunk, and well, I guess I passed out. I just woke up in my car.”

“Are you hurt? Did you wreck somewhere?”

“No, I’m fine. I’m sore from sleeping in my car, but I’m fine. I think I’m on some back road just south of town, but I can make it back. I’m sorry Noe, I know you’re mad, but please, let’s work this out.”

“Damn right I’m mad! I’ve been up ever since that night, worrying and crying and just knowing that the cops were gonna find you in a ditch, dead. You messed up big time Mike. Your boss called and he wasn’t happy. I think you lost your job. Get the hell back home Mike…please.”

“Alright Noe. I’m sorry. I love you.”

“I love you too Mike.   See you soon,” and she hung up.

She sounded angry, yet relieved, a sort of mixed bag that told Mike he was in for it, but it was gonna be alright. That was one less thing for him to worry about. How he was going to get his job back, he wasn’t sure. That could wait till Monday. All he cared about now was getting home, getting clean, and getting things straight with Noe again.

He couldn’t but help thinking of the brothers and the Sponsers as he got back in his car and started on his way home. The cramp in his hand told him it was true, but that could’ve been from anything. He began to dismiss it all when he looked down on the floorboard and noticed something. He slammed on the brakes and pulled off to the side of the road. Reaching down under the passenger side seat he pulled out a hatchet. It had some sort of black, thick fluid on the blade. “Oh my God, it can’t be!” he exclaimed. And immediately, he knew the brothers were in trouble and this was not a vision, it was real. The brothers were real. And that also meant the Sponsers were real. He shook with fear, not knowing what to believe anymore.

Thanks for reading! Please leave your thoughts in the comments below. Come back tomorrow for chapter 8 of Master of the Drunken Fist. Click here for the Table of Contents and links for the chapters.

Master of the Drunken Fist: Chapter 6

Welcome to the next installment of Master of the Drunken Fist.

Chapter 6

Just after mid-day, all hell broke loose. It was worse than anything Mike had ever experienced in his life, and it seemed to only be getting worse. All the stories of the Sponsers were true, in part. They were actually tame compared to what they really, truly were.

Elam led the brothers over another hill that had nothing exceptional about it at all, or gave away what was about to happen. As they reached the summit and about to descend the other side, Jed caught sight of movement off ahead of them. Thinking it was just an animal of some sort, they wound their way down the path, lined by trees as far as one could see on both sides. At the bottom, they crossed a stream where they filled water skins and refreshed themselves before packing up.

Suddenly, they attacked. Sinister, black shades with fiery red eyes surrounded them. Their eyes, not just red, but actual flames burning amid black, lifeless faces, brought terror to Mike. Fear coursed through him like never before. They shrieked a horrible sound freezing the brothers as though in a trance. It was deafening. They wore robes of the blackest material and their skin, or what Mike guessed was their skin, was like charred flesh. It was all black and somewhat ashy. There was an instant coldness in the air as the Sponsers surrounded them. There were six of the ghastly creatures, all shrieking and flames and blackness.

Jed, the largest of the brothers was no match for the size of the creatures. They dwarfed him. The mid-day sun did nothing to ease the terror of the shrieking Sponsers. Mike could only guess what it was like to face these things in the middle of the night, because at this moment, there was nothing he ever faced or saw in a movie that would compare to them. He prepared for death as that seemed the only outcome of this encounter. It had to be.

Two of the brothers, Gabe and Noah, pulled out their long hunting knives for protection, though to Mike it seemed like they were inadequate for the Sponsers. They tried to muster the courage to attack, but they were too late. One of the Sponsers gave out a shrill cry of death and attacked them viciously. It dug its long black nails into Gabe and blood flew high in the air. The creature laughed…it actually cackled, as it tore away at Gabe’s face. Screams of the Sponser joined the screams coming from Gabe as it ravaged him. The whole scene was surreal. Mike felt as though he was caught in some horrible movie that he couldn’t escape. The black creature destroyed Gabe in a matter of seconds, leaving a hollowed out chest and skull on the ground. At one point, Noah tried to attack it with his knife on it’s back, but it just reached out with one of it’s hands and caught his arm, twisting it, breaking it with a loud audible crack. He screamed as it grabbed his neck and snapped it, all without ever stopping it’s attack on Gabe.

One of the brothers, Elijah the voice in his head told him as he watched, turned to run away, but was soon enveloped by black robes. Blood flew in the air, misting the creature and the ground a dark crimson color. Death came quickly for him.

Mike noticed the flames growing brighter with each shriek of the creatures. The flames seemed to leap out of their skulls, almost touching the brothers as they mauled them.

Three remaining creatures stood vigil to the rest of the brothers and Mike, just daring them to try and run. Of course, none of them did. They witnessed the brutality the Sponsers inflicted on the the others and were not ready to join the massacre. In truth, Mike couldn’t run if he wanted to. His feet seemed locked to the ground. Just then, he broke from the daze and reached behind his back and pulled a hatchett from his sack. Where did that come from? I didn’t even know that was there! The formality didn’t matter at that moment, since he now had something to defend himself with.

With blind confidence, he started after the closest Sponser, the one attacking Elijah, and swung down hard into it’s skull. The hatchett found it’s mark and split the black skull wide open. It’s scream of pain was powerfully loud. The other Sponsers stopped in their madness turning their attention to Mike. He pulled back and hacked at the creature several more times, trying to make sure it would not get up from it’s wound, before stopping to face the rest of the Sponsers.

Their flame eyes grew brighter though being near them, you could feel a real chill in the air. He could feel the fire, the hate, coming straight for him through those flame eyes. Fear shook him, but adrenaline fueled him more. He held the hatchet in his hands, threatening to attack, when the creatures each grabbed a brother and with a loud shrill, faded into nothing. The last sound to be heard was the screams of the five brothers as the Sponsers stole away with their prey.

Silence overcame them. Mike looked around and there seemed to be blood everywhere. He looked at the blood soaked bodies laying half mutilated on the ground and counted what he thought were five bodies. The only brothers still alive were Abe and Elam. All the rest were dead or taken for who knows what by the Sponsers. It took a long time before any of them could speak.

“What…who…why…” Mike tried to say something but couldn’t. He shuttered at the sight in front of him. It was horrible and the smell of fresh death overwhelmed him.

“The Sponsers,” Abe began, “knew we’d be here. Them damn things sprung us a trap. They knew,” was all he could manage before breaking down sobbing at the loss of his brothers. Elam was no better. He fell to the ground moaning loudly about the horror in front of him. It seemed Mike was the only one not crying or moaning. Hell, he was alive and that was more than what he could say about most of the brothers. He dropped to his knees, in a pool of dark blood from the Sponser, and the next thing he remembered, he was in the void. The bright, blinding light surrounded him and he fell fast, spinning into nothing.

Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment below. Come back tomorrow for chapter 7 of Master of the Drunken Fist. Click here for the Table of Contents and links for the chapters.

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Master of the Drunken Fist: Chapter 5

Welcome back! Here’s the next chapter of Master of the Drunken Fist.

Chapter 5

Bright, brilliant, and blinding. It all came back to him as he opened his eyes within the void once again. He wasn’t sure what brought him here or how to leave, just that he was back. It felt as cold as last time, with absolutely no visibility at all. The white nothingness took in everything. Remembering how walking forward helped get him out of it, he started forward in hopes of finding an answer this time.

He stepped forward, slowly, fearing the physical abuse of last time. There was no voice either, which made the void seem even more surreal. He half expected to take another step and then fall to his death, much like last time before Noelle woke him. After what felt like half a block of walking, he saw off in the distance a pinpoint of color. It looked green, like grass. Filled with hope at the prospect of being out of the void, he moved faster towards it. It grew in size as he approached until he stood within what he guessed was about five yards away. He could feel warmth coming from the man sized hole in front of him. He stepped closer.

The sounds of birds stunned him. He didn’t recall hearing them the last time he left the void. It made him stop for just a moment. Where the hell am I? he thought. He still had no idea where he was or why. He only knew that being out there in the green was way better than the nothing that was the void. He approached the hole in the void and stepped through.

Instantly, he found himself in a forest, surrounded by hills and nature for as far as he could see. The sky was a brilliant blue with wispy clouds spread across it. It was so warm, something he didn’t expect this time of year. It was still spring, but somehow the feeling of this place was more like mid summer. The leaves were full on the trees, not the small buds he saw on the drive down to Gene’s. It felt familiar, yet odd. It was wrong but still better than the blinding void he left.

Ahead of him was a small path that went off to the left and up a small hill. He saw no one around, so deciding it was better than standing there, he took off down the path.

After walking up and down hills for what felt like half the day, he finally heard something other than birds. It was the sound of…banjo’s? Great, he thought, I’ve ended up in Deliverance. I’m gonna get killed by some crazy hillbillies! He started sweating, and not from the heat. The prospect of finding anything remotely close to what he recalled from that movie scared him. His imagination started to get ahold of him and he tried pushing those thoughts aside. There was no way anything like that existed in real life so it was stupid to think like that. He didn’t have anything to fear. He was able to comfort himself with that thought while approaching the source of the sound.

Smoke rose from amongst the trees up ahead and the banjo sound came from that direction. Walking closer, suddenly the path opened up to a large clearing. There must have been something like twelve or so…hillbillies. There was no other way of saying it. They wore those old, floppy wide brimmed hats he remembered from shows on the History Channel. Their shirts were white, or used to be, though now they were dingy and soiled. Most had pipes in their mouths. He quickly found the source of the banjo music as he saw one of the men sitting on a haystack on the far side of the clearing picking away absently. As soon as he came out into the clearing, they turned to look at him.

“Well hot damn Mikey, bout time you showed up. We thought y’all weren’t gonna be here in time. Nice of ya to show up,” said the closest man to him. He wanted to call him Abe for some reason, but not sure why. He’d never met these people in his life.

“How do you know my name?” Mike asked. He was puzzled as to how they knew that. It took him a second to realize the voice spoken by him was not his normal one, but a more southern, Kentucky accent, much like Gene. It startled him hearing it come from him and he thought maybe it was a mistake in his hearing. Surely he didn’t sound like that.

“What the hell are ya talking bout Mikey? You’re our brother, of course we know yer name. What you do back there, hit yer head or somethin?” The one he felt was called Abe said to him.

“Look Abe,” he started, and then shut up because the voice was definitely not his own. Their brother? What’s going on? I don’t have a brother. They think I’m someone else. That has to be the answer. “Look Abe,” he started again, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have a brother, let alone twelve of them. I..” Just then, the banjo stopped and one of the brothers close to Abe, Elam Mike said to himself, walked over towards him.

“Looks like ya did hit yer head boy, look at this Abe,” and he pointed to the bruise on Mike’s head, near his right temple. The same one he saw in the mirror that Noelle couldn’t see.   “How’d you do that to yerself? You get in a fight again? You know yer to stay way from them damn Sponsers, right? We’d done told ya hundred times to stay way from them. The’d skin ya live and force ya to eat yerself if ya get too close. Damn Mikey, you know this.” He walked away, visibly disgusted at what he thought he saw on Mike’s head.

Sponsers? What the hell? None of this makes sense! Mike thought. He wanted to scream at these men. He didn’t know them, he was surely not their damn brother, and he wanted answers…NOW!

“Sponsers? What is that? Why would I stay away from them? Where, where am I and who are you?”

Abe grinned as though he thought all of this was just a huge joke. “Ya really don’t know, do ya Mikey? Damn fool, get yerself hit in the head and gone stupid. It’s alright boy, we’ll get ya back ta normal soon nuff. Ain’t got nothin’ better ta do. Them Sponsers got us pinned in fer some time anyway. Best we get ya back ta normal before too long. Gonna need ya soon boy.” And the one with the banjo, Elijah was the name that came to Mike, started back up and picked up the pace.

Confusion gripped Mike. He felt totally lost and helpless. These men appeared to know him and all of them felt he belonged. And then there was that weird sensation that he knew all their names yet he had never met them before, at least not that he remembered. Just looking at them brought up their names to the top of his head. It was odd. They accepted him, not as a stranger, but honestly as their brother. That felt awkward. And then there was the mention of Sponsers, whoever they were. The men, the brothers, all seemed to fear whoever the Sponsers were. He noticed while Elam was talking to him about the Sponsers that most of the brothers got a look of fear in their eyes. It was a sudden shift in the feet that also told him they had no desire to meet up with these…Sponsers.

He walked over to a hay bale on a side of the clearing and sat down by himself. Not too long after, Elam brought over a cup of some kind of liquid and a bowl of the nastiest looking stew he had ever seen. “Ya got lucky Mikey, we got a coon not too long ago and still had some left. Noah here almost ate the whole thing by himself. Ya know how he can be, never thinking bout us, just himself.” Mike didn’t feel too lucky as he gulped down the thick, fatty stew. He almost vomited twice just at the smell of it. He tried to wash it down with the liquid Elam gave him and as soon as he took a big swallow, he felt the familiar burn of liquid fire go screaming down his throat. This was worse than anything Gene had ever given him. It wasn’t cut with fruit and he dropped the cup while it burned all the way down.

Elam laughed. “Lost yer taste Mikey? You bove all of us could drink pappy’s juice without no problems. Ya sure ya ain’t got something more worse going on with ya?” Mike didn’t know what to say. He was familiar with ‘shine and could withstand it well enough. This stuff was just…awful. It had no semblance of being used for enjoyment, just for pure torture of your insides and eventually the rest of you. He felt burning in his belly and just knew he was going to hurl. The disgusting coon stew mixed with the ‘shine was not a good combination. Before he could empty his stomach of it’s contents, he grew tired. He didn’t know when, but at some point after taking the food and drink, he fell fast asleep.

Waking, Mike prayed he was awake in his own bed, in his own home, being berated by Noelle for getting so drunk on Gene’s ‘shine. His eyes opened to a clear sky above him and the sound of a fire crackling nearby. His back hurt terribly as he turned to the side and saw all but two of the “brothers” asleep around the fire in the center of the clearing. Damn, he thought, I’m still here. Mike’s assumption that going to sleep would bring him back home out of this strange dream turned out to be false hope. The two brothers stirring about, Abe and Elam, had their attention turned to the forest south of them. He tried hard to listen to their conversation.

“Abe, we got ta get on the move. I been hearin’ those Sponsers in the night. They gettin’ closer every day we are away from our home. I don’t know what got in ta Mikey, but I recon he’ll get better soon. Old man Jenkins always did tell that if ya see the Sponsers and live, you gonna go dumb and stupid. Ya think that what happen to Mikey?”

“Don’t know bout that Elam, I spose so. He do seem like something aint right with him. He seem to lost all sense a himself and us. If he did see them Sponsers, then we gotta keep him safe. They won’t stop till they get him and take him back. I don’t think they make ya eat yerself like ya said. I think they take ya and ya never return back. They take ya fer good an that’s that. Old man Jenkins told me how his boy got taken by them and never returned. He held vigil day an night, fer near a whole month, and they still not let him go. After almost a year, he figured they done killed him and he mourned and still aint right. I tell ya Elam, them Sponsers are scary. We best get the brothers up and going since daylight is coming. We gotta get back like ya said. Maybe Mikey will feel better there. If not…”

Abe left off when he noticed Mike, wide eyed and listening to their conversation. He motioned Mike to come over and he did quietly so as to not wake up the other brothers.

“How long you been listening Mikey?” Abe asked.

“Long enough to hear about those…Sponsers.” He still couldn’t get used to the strange dialect coming from his mouth. In his head, he still heard it as normal and it was a slight disconnect as the words spoken sounded like the brothers and not himself. “Who are they and why are you afraid of them?”

“Mikey, you know full well who they is. Hell, I recon you saw them and it caused you to ferget who you is.”

“Well, maybe if you tell me, my memories will start to come back.”

Abe looked to Elam and a flash of understanding crossed between them. Elam nodded slightly and Abe motioned them all to sit down on the hay bale.

“Well Mikey, these Sponsers are evil creatures. They is dark as the blackest night. They are like spirits, but worse than anything ya can imagine. They chase us till they get their claws in us. When they do that, there aint no escape from them. They aint human at all. They want to turn you, me, Elam, all of us to their slaves. They want to work us till we is dead, and then they steal your soul.”

Mike laughed a little. This sounded so ridiculous to him. Steal your soul? Ha! Who were these guys kidding? Nothing like that existed.

“You best watch what you think is funny Mikey, they is real. Real as I am and that hay you sitting on. Why do ya think we’re out here? They came a few weeks back to the homestead. We ran off to hide from them till they passed. Old man Jenkins, if ya remember him,” and Mike shook his head. He couldn’t recall that amongst his pre-set memories, “Well he is tha only person saw them and not turn crazy or die. They took his boy, John. He talks of how they came in the middle of the night and steal the boy from his bed. Ol’ John was a big man too, much bigger than Jed over there,” he said pointing at the largest brother, still sleeping near the fire. “John wasn’t no easy target Mikey, he was all brute, but them Sponsers just came in and took him. And they never travel alone. They always go in groups, maybe five or so, but no one knows for sure, That just the rumor since aint no one who encountered them live to tell bout them.”

Mike’s face went from amusement to concern. “You actually believe this, don’t you?” Abe nodded. Elam too. They actually believed this bogey-man tale about the “Sponsers” and they seemed genuinely afraid of them. That began to scare him. If these good ol boys were afraid enough to leave their home and live in the forest for a while to escape them, then maybe he had a right to be scared. But what if they were just messing with him? He remembered a story his mom used to say all the time about a crazy man that lived in the woods at the end of his street in order to get him to stay out of them. As it turned out years later, it was all a lie. At the time, he would have walked over hot coals instead of go in those woods. She scared him good. Maybe that’s what they were doing. Out of a sick sense of humor? He wasn’t sure. He started to smile again, but the serious look on Elam’s face told him this was real to them. As real as the sky was blue.

Abe stood up, “It’s bout time to go boys.” He walked closer to the fire and began waking the brothers carefully, as he didn’t want to startle them. “Let’s get at it boys, we gotta get moving back home today. We found Mikey and it seems to be clear of those Sponsers. After about half an hour, they were all packed, the fire was out, and they were on their way. Where to, Mike could only guess. It seemed as though he was going to be here for a while.

Thanks for reading! Please leave your thoughts in the comments below. Come back tomorrow for chapter 6 of Master of the Drunken Fist. Click here for the Table of Contents and links for the chapters.

Master of the Drunken Fist: Chapter 4

Here’s the next installment of Master of the Drunken Fist. Enjoy!

Chapter 4

Several weeks passed and Mike was sober for most of it. The past episode with the void and the hurt he gave Noelle were enough to set him straight for a time. Work was going well enough too. But to be honest, there wasn’t much for him to concern himself with there. He started at the job when he was sixteen and somehow worked his way up to senior custodian of the cap factory. He could be somewhat flexible with his hours with the crew he had working for him. The cap factory, Eagle Caps, was the last large manufacturing facility in Brownsville. There were rumors of their jobs going to Mexico, but so far, they were just rumors. They seemed busy, as far as Mike could tell. He never did finish his college degree, so he couldn’t get a position in management, and he never did get in with the textile unions, so here he was, the head of custodians for the factory.

It was a good job and paid the bills. Besides some of the large retail stores in the area, it was one of the few places left that offered any kind of benefits. He had a couple friends that worked there, as well as some he didn’t care for all that much. The twins Keith and Carl both worked in the finishing part of the line and would give the caps one last look over before prepping them for delivery or decoration, which they also did there. Keith would often give him a rough go of it, mostly because of his fondness for Noelle. He always had his eye on her and Mike knew it. Regardless of that tension, Mike enjoyed the job and worked hard at it. He figured it was as good a life as any and didn’t complain much and did his job well.

The big spring production rush was starting to settle down and several of the guys were going down to Gene’s after work for some drinks and food. They made the best pulled pork and their hot wings were famous. One just had to mention “Gene’s Wings” and your mouth instantly watered at the thought of devouring those moist, spicy wings. One of the other custodians, Jared, invited Mike down to the dive.

“Are the twins going,” he asked after Jared’s invite.

“Yeah, I think so but don’t worry about it man. Those guys are alright. They won’t cause any problems. Besides, it’s Gene’s special ‘shine night.”

Mike had instant flashbacks to the void when Jared told him that. The ‘shine did him in good last time and almost cause him Noelle. “Nah, I think I’ll pass Jared. I gotta get home. Thanks anyway.”

“Well if you change your mind, you know where we’ll bet. Those wings are damn good man, just saying!” He smiled and turned to walk out with everyone else.

Mike drove home and pulled into the drive. Noelle’s car was gone which was not like her. Mike looked at his phone and he had a missed call and voicemail from Noelle.

“Hey Mike, I’m going out with the girls tonight to go see a movie. I left some soup in the fridge for you. We’ll be back kinda late, so you don’t need to wait up if you don’t want to. If you get this before 6, you can call me back. Love ya, bye.”

Mike looked at his watch, it was too late. He silenced his phone at work, like normal, but forgot to put it on vibrate and missed the call. Oh well, he thought, Maybe I can catch up on some movies or something tonight. Noelle wasn’t a big fan of horror movies and he absolutely loved them. It looked like a night of soup and butcher knives awaited him.

As he started heating up the soup, the prospect of sitting around alone started to bother him. His mouth watered as he thought about those deliciously hot and spicy wings. His stomach grumbled. He could see Jared down there now, fingers all covered in sauce, enjoying his food while the music played and everyone had a good time. He could see Gene’s smiling face and balding head, passing around the ‘shine to all. It was too much. He dumped the soup down the drain, grabbed his keys, and took off down to Gene’s.

It was loud when he got there. There must have been like ten to fifteen cars outside and that was a lot for a Thursday night. The place could hold thirty, maybe forty comfortably, however when he walked in, it seemed like everyone and their brother was there. Hank Williams played on the jukebox and thick cigarette smoke clouded his vision. Just the kind of place he liked to go and unwind.

Jared turned when he saw the door open and smiled big when he saw Mike enter. “Hot damn man, I figured you’d show up! Can’t pass on these wings, can ya?” he said as he held up a half eaten wing in a sauce covered hand.

“No, I guess not,” he replied. There was an empty chair at Jared’s table and he took it without hesitating. “Stay here man, I’ll be right back,” and Jared got up and went to the bar. He returned with four small glasses, the same kind Mike busted the mirror with last time, all full of a clear liquid. It was fire. Mike knew it had to be the special ‘shine of Gene’s. He looked back to the bar and saw the mirror still had yet to be replaced, and a bare spot next to the bottles on the wall screamed at him as a reminder of his last time here. “I don’t think I need that Jared. I’m good, thanks.”

“Hell no man, we all drink it,” and he passed the glasses around the table, everyone looking cautiously at the seemingly innocent liquid fire in their hands. “Bottom’s up boys!” Jared said as he raised the glass and downed the whole shot in one gulp. The rest of the table did the same, all except Mike. In unison, they hissed through their teeth as the ‘shine burned their mouths, their throats, and their stomachs. Mike knew that feeling and as bad as it was, it also meant he’d be getting to feeling good in no time. They all stared at him as he held the glass, when finally he raised it high and said, “Why the hell not?” and drank it down.

“That a boy,” Jared commended him. “Now you can relax and let loose. This shit’ll get ya going for sure!” Instantly, Mike felt his entire body tingle with warmth and his mouth and throat scream in torture. It seemed like the usual addition of grapefruit couldn’t touch the heat this time. Mike’s eyes rolled back in his head as he swallowed the liquid rocket fuel.

When he opened them, he was in the void.

Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment below, your feedback is welcome. Come back tomorrow for chapter 5 of Master of the Drunken Fist. Click here for the Table of Contents and links for the chapters.

Master of the Drunken Fist: Chapter 3

Here’s the next chapter of Master of the Drunken Fist. Enjoy!

Chapter 3

Mike opened his eyes to the face of beautiful Noelle. He wasn’t sure if the vision before him was real or part of the horrible void-dream he had. She had tears in her eyes, and they were red. It was a familiar sight to Mike, though he never enjoyed it. It brought feelings of shame, of hate, of loathing to him like nothing else. Seeing Noelle’s eyes like that made his whole heart sink knowing it was because of him. He always thought she cared way too much for him. He wasn’t worthy of such love and adoration. It was something surreal to him having her by his side all the time. He tried reaching up to her face, but his arms felt like they were weighted down.

“It’s ok Mike, you’re fine. You’re back now. Don’t you ever do that to me again, you hear me? I love you too much! Don’t you ever leave me like that again!”

“What are you talking about Noelle?” It hurt him to talk. His jaw felt like it was broken and his right temple throbbed something fierce. His throat was dry. His head felt hazzy and dizzy. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears. Behind Noelle, he saw a ceiling fan, similar to the one in their bedroom. Looking to his right, he saw the familiar alarm clock on the dresser and he knew he was in their bed.

“Noelle, what are you talking about? I didn’t go anywhere? I…I…what happened Noelle?

She cried a little as she stared down at him. He saw pity and pain in those eyes.

“I don’t know where you went Mike. After you broke that mirror down at Gene’s, you got a bit out of control. Gene called me and I went down there to find you all out of control. You were cussing, yelling, telling Gene you loved him and how you hated him. You kept drinking that shine of his and getting more and more ugly. He told you to leave and when I finally got you in the car, you passed out. On the drive home, you started mumbling something about “void” or “avoid,” I couldn’t tell. All I know is that after dragging you to bed, you started to convulse. Your breathing started to slow down and for several minutes I thought you died. Mike, don’t you ever fucking do that to me again!”

She cried softly for a little bit before continuing.

“Mike, that was two days ago,” she said quietly. “I had to tell your boss that you caught a bug and couldn’t make it in. You just laid here in bed for the whole time. You would alternate from convulsions to complete silence. I didn’t know what to think. I wanted to call 911, but then you would start to breathe again and I thought you’d just wake up, get some coffee, and return to normal. I’ve never seen you gone for this long. It was like you would leave yourself and return every once in a while. Mike, don’t you ever do that to me again. You hear me!”

“I’m confused. I don’t know what to say Noelle. I’m sorry?”

The hanging question grated at Noelle. “Really, you are going with I’m sorry? after all the hell you put me through these past couple of days? It’s going to take a lot more than that. I can’t keep putting up with this shit Mike! I love you, but I’m not going to keep wasting myself and crying over you.”

Mike closed his eyes to think, to escape the mess he made. His arms finally moved and he rubbed his eyes trying to clear the problem ahead of him. Opening his eyes, nothing changed except Noelle crying softly, head in her hands.

“You are too good to me Noelle, you know that right?”

“Shut up Mike. Just stop doing this to me. Get up, you smell awful and look terrible. I’ll get you some coffee.” She left him, still crying softly. He sat up and the room started to spin. “Woa,” he said and steadied himself on the bed. He swung his feet off and turned towards the mirror on the dresser. He did look like death. He could smell himself as a mix of cigarettes and body odor. He looked at the mirror again and though his gaze was a bit fuzzy, he saw something strange.

Slowly standing up, he leaned up against the dresser and looked closely in the mirror. Staring back at him was a man that looked twenty years older than what he actually was. His brown hair was tinged with just a bit of stray grey hairs and his face looked rough. Looking at his right temple, he thought he saw something on his head. He reached up and felt a faint pain as his hand rubbed along a bruise. It wasn’t bleeding, but it hurt. It was in the same spot that he was hit while in the void.

Damn, what the hell happened to me? he thought while staring at his head. That wasn’t real, was it? I was just passed out, that’s all. Dreaming. But this bruise? It’s right where I got hit.

 He walked out of the bedroom and sat down at the dining room table, leaning down on one arm. It was hard to walk far as dizziness kept trying to take him away on some joy ride it had planned for him. Noelle brought him some coffee. It didn’t feel like morning to him. The sun was much brighter than normal. He looked over at the clock in the kitchen and it said 3:23.

“Noe, did I get into a fight again?” he asked her reluctantly.

“Yes, you did. You and Keith got into it, though I don’t think it lasted long.”

“Did he hit me in the head? I have a bruise up here,” he said pointing to his right temple area. She looked at the spot he pointed out.

“If he did, I can’t tell it. There’s no mark that I can see.”

“What? I just saw it in the mirror,” he replied confused. “You know, fuck it, doesn’t matter. It just hurts like hell. Got any aspirin or something for this headache?”

Noelle left and came back with pills and a glass of water. “Here,” she said and handed it to him. “Now that you are awake and alive, I gotta go to the store. Take a shower, will you? You stink like shit.”

“Yeah, I feel like it to. Sorry Noe, I really am.”

Noelle grabbed her keys and left. It was silent in the house and Mike needed that to recover as best he could.   He finally got up after finishing his coffee and worked his way to the bathroom where he took a long, hot shower.

Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment below and let me know what you think. Come back tomorrow for chapter 4 of Master of the Drunken Fist. Click here for the Table of Contents and links for the chapters.