E.N. Chaffin's Blog, page 7

Dead End Job

This is one of my earlier short stories. And before you ask: yes, I am a fan of Z Nation. . . But not really the Walking Dead. Sorry. ^_^

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I worked at a retail supermarket in the middle of a town, stocking products during the midday shift to earn money for college. Or at least that’s what I told my parents. Though a fast food job would have sucked more, working here was one hell of a price to pay for my own 1992 Dodge Viper. But the torture would all be worth it in the end.

“Zoe! Pick up the pace!”

“Alright, already!”

This job wouldn’t be as annoying if it wasn’t for Mr. Barbs, the man who thought he was my superior officer in the military, more than my middle-aged manager. He and his English accent demanded perfection in every task, nitpicked my customer service skills to the smallest degree, and made every day a soul-sucking experience. It was a curse to be under his watch. At least I wasn’t the only person who had to suffer.

But of course, there was always one person who could get away with any mistakes she made. Mr. Barbs would never degrade sweet, little Lily like he would the rest of us. He fawned over the newly turned eighteen-year-old like gnats over an animal carcass in the desert. And it didn’t seem like she minded the attention from a man nearly three times her age if it meant less work for her.

The thought nearly made me gag as I emptied out the contents of my boxes one by one. I could hear Mr. Barbs and Lily sharing an “intimate” moment on the aisle in front of me. I held back a hurl. It’s only until I get my beautiful Viper. Only until then. Then I can quit. Or at least get a better job. Just a little while longer.

I started breaking the boxes down when I heard Lily scream bloody murder. The shelves shook as something hit them.

“What the hell is it now?” I groaned.

I turned the corner to see Lily crouched on the ground, splattered with blood.

Right above her, Mr. Barbs stood still, blood pouring from his throat as a man bit into it. Hard. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Did my asshole manager just get attacked by a –

Another scream came from the front of the store. Then more. Looking over the sea of apparel, I witnessed customers and employees getting mauled, tackled, and bitten just like Barbs.

Instinct kicked in. I grabbed Lily’s arm, pulled her up, and started running.

“What’s going on?!”

“Just shut up and follow me!”

I let go of her as we raced off towards the Sporting Goods section.

We dodged falling merchandise, stumbling corpses, and shredded up victims.

Blood spewed from bites. Children cried. Adults screamed.

We ran faster.

“Grab some backpacks!”

She ran down one aisle. I grabbed a knife from another. I tore its packaging and attacked the gun display case. Another hit. And another. I turned and stabbed a woman in the head, her milky eyes staring right at me. I didn’t think anything of it and pulled my knife out.

I kicked the lock free and grabbed the first two guns in the case. Lily ran back, two backpacks in hand. One seemingly filled with random crap.

She screamed as a man grabbed onto her arm. I hit him back with one of the guns.

“Damn!”

I grabbed the empty pack and filled it with bullets.

“Let’s go!”

We grabbed our stuff and ran.

We hit the backroom doors. A manager screamed as she was torn in two by those biters. We ignored it.

We weaved through boxes and pallets, running into the food storage.

“Climb!”

I shoved her towards the end of a shelving unit. As she climbed, I raced towards the middle. A scourge of those things busted through another one of the doors.

“Zoe!”

“Just climb!”

Hand over hand, I struggled to get up before the biters got near. They closed in, reaching for my ankles to pull me down. I moved faster.

I met Lily at the top as the biters attacked more of our fellow associates. Lily sobbed. I covered her mouth.

“Hush,” I whispered, “Now let me see you pack.”

She handed it over. I dug through it. Great. The only useful things were an empty flask, a can opener, and a small lantern. The rest was just crap for people with too much money to spare for one overnight camping trip.

I sighed.

As the screams rose, Lily whimpered against the wall. She curled up in a ball and tried to block it all out – the tearing flesh, the cries for help. I distracted myself by standing guard. The biters seemed to have forgotten us all together. They were distracted by the meal in front of them.

Hours seemed to go by as Lily and I waited for the screaming to die down. It didn’t.

I silently moved towards Lily.

“Hey,” I whispered, “If we just stay here for now, then we won’t have to worry. Everything will die down soon . . . no pun intended. After that, we’ll be just fine.”

Lily didn’t move.

I slightly shook her.

“Hey, now. It’s going to be alright.”

She grabbed my arm tightly. Flakes of skin came off. Her veins bulged. She looked at me and smiled. Her teeth were already rotting.

I wrenched my hand from her grasp and flew back.

My hands grabbed for one of the guns.

She lunged.

I beat the side of her head.

She stumbled towards the edge and I beat her again.

Her body landed with a thud, attracting the nearby biters. She moaned, trying to use her arms to move. Her legs were twisted, showing off the small chunk of her calf that was bitten off sometime before. How the hell did I miss that?

I decided to ignore, hiding back on the shelf.

I grabbed the second backpack and shifted through the bullets. I could at least give her a proper goodbye. That’s when I noticed it. These bullets didn’t fit either of the guns – they were the wrong ones.

Dammit.

I groaned. Grabbing a small box filled with chocolate treats from the top of a close pile, I was thankful to at least have some food around me. Especially since I had missed my lunch break.

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(c) E.N. Chaffin 2016. Any reproduction without author permission is against copyright laws under the United States of America.

Fanfiction: My Start at Writing

I fell in love with the Japanese art of anime when I was old enough to watch television. Right after school, I’d run to the living room, snag the remote from my siblings – much to their discontent – and turn it to Cartoon Network to catch the Toonami special! From Ronin Warriors to Yu Yu Hakusho, Sailor Moon, and Tenchi Universe! Even Dragon Ball Z! I watch more and more of these shows and wanted to continue the adventures of the characters even when they ended, but didn’t really know how at the time.

It was only when I was in middle school did I find out that fanfiction existed. After meeting my best friend for life, she and I would go back and forth writing new adventures with our favorite anime characters, placing ourselves and our friends into the mix. My new persona of Sona Yama Dosin was born.

During this time, I also found out about a place called fanfiction.net. Putting (some) of my homework to the side each night, or finding time between swimming and watching even more anime on summer vacations, I would spend all my time reading other anime fan’s works. Some were a bit . . . terrible . . . in different ways. If it wasn’t grammar and spelling mistakes galore, it was putting the characters in very not-so-good situations. Then others were entirely awesome, to say the least! They would not only capture the characters exactly as they were portrayed in the original shows, they would add a new perspective to the stories. Whether through the use of alternate universes, a spin-off series of a secondary character, or other interpretation, writers of these types of fanfiction would inspire me to keep writing even more and grow my skill.

Now I would like to say that, yes, I did read a lot of books when I was young. But, especially, when I could not find a book I was interested in – or when I could not get to the library due to living a good distance away and not having a driver’s license until later in my teenage life – I could always rely on reading fanfiction to keep me going. Even now, reading and/or writing fanfiction keeps my creativity alive. My future projects will show just that. People may think this diminishes authors’ works. However, I am not just ripping off my own fanfiction, changing the characters’ names and publishing the stories on this website. I only started writing my debut novel Loading: Life by pretending it was a fanfiction. (It seems to create less pressure in the process.)

With ending this blog post, I hope you all have found something to inspire you. Whether you write, sew, engineer, or work your butt off doing anything else, if you can find something to inspire you, even if it comes in an unconventional way, I hope you seize it and use it to keep you developing your skills!

I would love it if you read my newest fanfiction story. It was a flash fiction I created in an hour and a half at Naka-Kon 2017 for their IronFic Contest. It was the first time I created a whole story within a short amount of time. (Good for those who love my Nectere Short Stories.)

And I would love it if you check out my Plumfund book funding campaign! It is for my debut novel, Loading: Life. Everyone who donates gets a thank you prize of some kind. For those who donate $21 or more get a signed copy of their very own! And there are more amazing prizes to go along! And please feel free to tell your friends and family – or anyone else you know – about this exciting adventure of mine!

Why Plumfund and Not Kickstarter?

You may be wondering why I’ve chosen Plumfund as my crowdfunding platform, instead of the more widely known Kickstarter. Wouldn’t it just be better if I went with Kickstarter – something everyone knows about – rather than a place that barely anyone has ever heard of?

The reasoning is simple.

When looking at the two sites side by side, it seems that the only difference is the crowd that Kickstarter brings in. However, when you look at them on a deeper level, you can see that Kickstarter actually charges the one who sets up the crowdfunding a fee for the total of contributions made. This fee is on top of the PayPal and credit card transaction fees that every crowdfunding website cannot avoid. Plumfund, on the other hand, does NOT charge a fee on top of the transaction fees already in place.

What does that mean for the one who is contributing? It means that more of your contribution goes straight to the crowdfunding you want to support.

For example, you want to give $10 to an author who is working towards debuting her novel Loading: Life later this year. If the author had set up her crowdfunding on Kickstarter, she would not receive 5% of the total of contributions made, plus around 3% of the PayPal or credit card contributions. However, if she had set up her crowdfunding on Plumfund, she would only have to forfeit around 3% of the Paypal or credit card contributions. She is saved an extra 5% because Plumfund does NOT charge their own fees.

To see their fees for yourself, please go to Plumfund and Kickstarter.

So, if you are thinking of starting your own crowdfunding, just think about setting it up on Plumfund.

And if you would like to help me reach my funding goal in order to edit, market, and publish my debut novel, please give here: https://www.plumfund.com/crowdfunding/loadinglife. And please share my crowdfunding with everyone you know!

Thank you!

Loading: Life Book Blurb!

What is a book blurb?

To put it simply, a book blurb is the summary that one can find on the back or the inside of the cover. Being such a short passage, it should really simple to write . . . right?

In all honesty, when I started writing my book blurb for Loading: Life, I thought I could just piece information from my story together and that would be it. But no. Once I looked at the product, I was sorely mistaken. I had to enlist my editor’s help. We spent a good portion of a day figuring out and rewriting the blurb. After hours of rewrites and headache-inducing work, we finally developed a product we were both satisfied with.

And so, without further ado, here is the book blurb for you readers:

Everyone has a special ability in Devi Omega. Everyone except Hero Leander, the official troublemaker of Class 1B. But his life gets even worse when he is partnered with Annie May Fields on a history project. Not only is she a straight-A student and the top Charisma charmer of the school, but she is determined to make him do his part of the work.

As they hit the books, though, they soon discover that an evil corporation is kidnapping citizens in order to keep the Center alive. Hero thinks the two shouldn’t get involved. That is until his only friend is also taken. He realizes then that he needs to take a stand and fight.

Hero and Annie May put themselves in the line of fire in order to save their world. But with gang attacks, drug deals, twisted corporate goons, and a teacher that won’t get off their case, these two unlikely fighters have little time to think about their next step. Can they save the world and still get a passing grade?

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If you would like to contribute to the development and release of Loading: Life, please support my book funding on Plumfund. And please tell everyone you know! Your fund is worth gold and your word is priceless! Thank you!

First Look at Loading: Life

If you’ve been waiting for a sneak peak at my debut novel Loading: Life, then wait no more! I’m am posting the first chapter right here on the Blog!

If you enjoy it, please consider contributing to my book fund on Plumfund.com right here! As I mentioned in a previous post, this funding will go into the setup and release of Loading: Life. I appreciate all those who contribute. ^_^

And now for your reading pleasure!

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Chapter 1: Character Select

Hero ran down the back alleys from the punks that were trying to beat in the face in with baseball bats and old fence posts. He knew that going to school was always a bad idea. But apparently, today was going to be even worse.

“Come back here you piece of shit!”

He desperately swerved through the backstreets, looking for a way to get out of danger. One wrong turn sent him down a dead end. But he was ready to jump the fence blocking his way as the yells got closer. He moved his satchel to the side, ran up to the fence, climbed and jumped over. Smooth.

“Come and get me if you can, idiots!” Hero grinned, eyes on the fence as he kept running. “You’re all a bunch of mor-“

His stomach caved in as it came in contact with what felt like a rock. As he fell to the ground, Hero could see Sadiq glare at him, the guy’s fist blackened over with ore.

Hero tried to get back on his feet, but Sadiq’s boot struck his chest and pushed him back down.

“Hero. I thought you were going to get me my items.”

“Oh. Hi. Sadiq.”

“Where are my items, boy?”

“Ya know. We are just a few years apart.” Hero didn’t move, fear crept in. “No need to call me boy.”

Sadiq’s health bar popped up above his head at the same time Hero felt his own become visible.

“W-wait. There’s no need to go this far. Right? I have your items right here.” He nodded towards his satchel. “Let me get them for you.”

Sadiq let up on Hero’s chest, but his health bar was still visible. Hero slowly stood up, stumbling a bit. Keeping his eyes on Sadiq, whose own eyes were shifting between Hero’s face and satchel. He started to rummage through his bag, making sure to not flip open the top. He waited for an opening, slightly inching away as slowly as he could.

Sadiq looked at his face. Then the satchel.

Face.

Satchel.

Face.

Satchel.

Face.

Satchel-

Hero spun around, running as fast as his feet would take him. Sadiq yelled.

Another hit to Hero’s stomach. This time from a larger man, who grabbed him before he could fall.

Sadiq ran up, accompanied by his other lackeys.

Hero grinned. “Oh come on guys. Can’t take a joke.”

This time Sadiq’s power bar sprung up. Before Hero could notice the twinge of his own bar, he was barraged by two powerful fists. Blood spurted from his mouth. He could feel his energy and health depleting. He heard whooping and hollering from Sadiq’s men. Hero knew he was going to die.

Damn. So much for getting away seamlessly.

But then it stopped.

He looked up, seeing the men run away. The large man who held him suddenly let go. He dropped to the ground, curling up.

When the noises of the gang faded, Hero heard one set of footsteps thump towards him. He prayed it wasn’t a cop. Prayed it wasn’t an even bigger thug. And prayed it wasn’t-

“And what the hell do you think you’re doing out here, boy?”

-his teacher.

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© E.N. Chaffin 2017. Any reproduction without author permission is against copyright laws under the United States of America.

My Personal Campaign

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Writing a book is not as easy as many people think. It is not only time consuming, but also energy draining and exercises one’s mental processing like nothing else.

Even after writing the first draft, there are several cycles of editing a rewriting just to get the story and its characters in a position that any reader who picks up the story will enjoy.

Due to the costs of writing and editing a book, not to mention marketing and publishing one as well, I have started my own fundraising campaign to balance out the costs.

This campaign will cover a great portion of the editing, marketing, and publishing costs my debut novel Loading: Life needs in order to become a fully published book.

If you would like to contribute, please click here. Even if you can only give a dollar, every little bit helps. And if you could pass my message along on FaceBook, Twitter, and any platform you use, it would help out a great deal.

The campaign’s last day will be March 31st.

If successful, this campaign will aid in covering the costs of:

Content and proof- editing.
Marketing.
Publishing the book on both CreateSpace and IngramSpark, in order to get the book out online and in stores globally.
Purchasing the ISBNs for both the paperback and eBook editions of the book.
Purchasing the barcode for the paperback.
Obtaining the official copyright.
And more.

https://www.plumfund.com/crowdfunding/loadinglife

Puddles and Stilettos

Please visit my Facebook page and tell me what you think of this short story.

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Don’t step into puddles made by rain water. It’s the worst thing you can do for your shoes.

 

The rainy night didn’t stop my guy and me from going to the store for some good old wine coolers and beer. Along with snacks and wholesome food, of course. We had to park so far from the store, though, I was dreading the walk in. I just had to wear my new stilettos today. Though, in my defense, it was clear when we hit up the movies hours earlier.

“If we run, it won’t be that bad,” he smiled, “on the count of three, ‘kay?”

“Okay.”

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three!”

We jumped out of the car and ran as fast as possible, splashing through the puddles. I tripped and nearly fell in a deep one, but was saved when he grabbed my arm.

“Watch out. Don’t want to eat wet asphalt.”

I laughed, holding his hand the rest of the way.

It was only when we were almost done shopping, I realized my purse was still in the car.

“I’ll go out and get it.”

“No, it’s alright. I don’t mind,” I grabbed the keys from his hands and headed out, “pick up the rest and I’ll meet you at the registers!”

I started out the door, thinking I would get soaked again. However, the rain had stopped.

“Thank God.”

This time, I only walked a fast pace.

But then something snagged my heel. I stumbled a bit but caught myself. I looked around. Finding nothing on the ground, I kept going.

Again, something caught my shoe, clipping the top of my toes.

“Ah!” I tripped, skidded a little, but saved myself.

My eyes washed over the ground. Nothing but asphalt and puddles.

“What the hell.”

I started again, being extra careful of where I stepped.

When I reached the car, I was just about to unlock the door, when my foot slipped from under me.

I squealed and landed on my butt, the keys falling out of my hand. “Seriously! What the hell was that?!”

I tried to get out of the big puddle that was soaking my jeans, but something clutched around my ankle.

A scaly blue hand with sharp claws gripped it tightly.

Before I could yell, it pulled me down with a great force, hurling me into the puddle. The rush forced my eyes shut. I opened them a second later and saw only darkness. My fear grew as I realized I couldn’t breathe. I was trapped underwater.

What was going on?!

Then, a creature swam up in front of me. Her whole body was blue and green. She had scales covering her breasts, and fins sprouting from her giant tail. Her flowing black hair encompassed the space around her.

A mermaid?!

Seriously?!

She must have seen the surprise and fear on my face. The next second, she hugged me, placing her thumb on my throat. Her pointed nail slit the skin. Pain escaped from my mouth along with the last bit of air I tried to save.

But I didn’t drown.

She let go of me and smiled. She then took my hand and placed it on my throat. I could feel the slit she had made. It had morphed into what I could only explain as a gill.

“What is this?” I stared at her, “Wait! I can talk underwater!”

She seemed to giggle, the sound of soft bells ringing in my mind.

She grabbed my hand and started swimming away from the opening. She was so strong, I had no choice but to follow.

She led me to what looked like a castle carved out of enormous rocks. Seaweed almost as high as the structure entirely surrounded it. I couldn’t take in much more, though, before she pulled me into one of the several tower openings.

Inside, a fluorescent fish caught underneath a glass bowl gave off a dim green light. I could hardly make out the sea sponges and little corals that engulfed nearly every surface of the room. They seemed to hug the huge opened oyster in the corner. I was stuck in a fantasy.

The mermaid pulled me towards the oyster and sat me down on a soft material that took up its bottom shell. A sponge, maybe? She smiled once more, staring intensely at my eyes. I shuddered at the attention. Something about her made my spine crawl. But something else made my body stay where it was. It was urging me to leave before it was too late and, at the same time, to stay to see what she would do next. Not out of curiosity. No. But out of a growing need. As if my life depended on her.

Her hand cupped my cheek. Her lips moved, but no words came out. Only the soft humming of flutes from inside my head. My lids began to droop. My whole body was becoming limp. I was about to fall into her opened arms, when I saw the glint of white light. On the wall right behind her leaned a tall, mirror-like object. It did not reflect her backside, though, but a more grotesque version of her body. Fully black eyes. Long, sharp fangs. Claws twice as big.

Uncontrollable fear came over me. With new found strength, I pulled away from her. It was then that I saw her beautiful smile had slowly been changing into those fangs that were reflected.

I screamed, throwing her off of me. She was caught off guard, and hit the back of the shell, making it come loose from the wall and falling nearly shut on her. I swam off as fast as I could.

I nearly got tangled in the seaweed before making it out into the opened darkness. I didn’t know where I was swimming, but I knew I needed to get away from her as fast as possible. A moment later, I started to see the light from what looked like a hole carved out of the blackness. It was a shining yellow, just like that of the street lamps in the parking lot. A ringing shriek filled the waters. She was coming for me. I swam faster, pushing my muscles to their limits, though they ached and groaned.

I was almost at the exit when the mermaid latched onto my ankle once again. With unseen hands full of strength she started to pull me away from the hole with her fangs bared.

I started kicking as hard as I could, only hitting her once or twice. The third time my stiletto heel hit her right in the eye. She let go, shrieking again as she cupped her face. I swam as fast as I could for the light. But she was faster.

Right before I could break through, she grabbed onto me once again. She pulled me down. I was a goner for sure.

But something else grabbed onto my wrist and pulled me towards the light so fast, the mermaid was thrown off of me.

I heaved up water from my lungs. I tried to open my eyes, but the light from the lamps was so strong it stung.

“What’re you doing on the ground? You okay?”

A shadow hid me from the lights. I looked up to see my boyfriend, a worried expression on his face.

“What?”

“You okay?”

I took his hand and he lifted me up from the ground. I looked around. The puddle was still there, like the rest, but nothing was coming out of it.

“Did you help me?”

“What?”

“I was just . . .”

I looked around again.

He wrapped his arms around me tightly, “I don’t know what happened. But I started to worry when you didn’t return. I just found you on the ground.”

I leaned into his embrace, “I guess I just fell and hit my head or something.”

A moment later, he released me, “Let’s just get home ASAP.”

“Sounds good.”

Like the true gentleman he always tried to be, he lifted me up in his arms, bridal style, opened the car door, and sat me inside. He then raced around and took his place in the driver’s seat.

“I’ll drive right up to the entrance, go in and pay, and come right back out. That way you won’t have to walk anymore.”

“Thanks.”

“We might have to get that ankle checked out too if the swelling doesn’t go down by morning.”

I looked down, seeing a blue ring around my ankle.

“Oh.”

He looked around, “Hey, sweetie. Where are the keys?”

“Oh! I dropped them somewhere right outside,” I started to open my door.

“That’s alright. I’ll find them.”

As he opened the door, I realized it was raining again. An ache seared through my ankle. I leaned over to examine it, taking off my stiletto. It was then that I found the heel of it broken.

The end was covered in a green slime.

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© E.N. Chaffin 2016. Any reproduction without author permission is against copyright laws under the United States of America.

“Step into my world. Know my despair.”

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“Step into my world. Know my despair.”

Loading: Life.

That’s the title of my upcoming book.

And it’s going to be a doozy!

 

So some of you might know that I’ve been promoting my first written book of Academy of Heroes. So why am I introducing another book before I even release my first one? This is because a special event is coming up this summer. This new book, which will actually be my debut novel, will be released at that event in a special version.

And what about Academy of Heroes?

Don’t worry, this book will still be released. Just not right now. Since this book will contain a storyline that transitions into an entire book series, I want to work on it a bit longer. I want to get it right.

Does this mean that Loading: Life will not be as good?

No. It’ll be great! But the difference is that LL and AoH are set in two separate story universes, with LL only taking one book to tell its story. It will be a great stand alone sci-fi fantasy novel that readers will enjoy. But it won’t be an epic saga like AoH will be.

I hope you forgive me for making you wait on Academy of Heroes. But I want to make it as great as I can before releasing it to you. And I hope you start counting down the days until Loading: Life debuts this Summer!

More details to come later! Please stay tuned!

Darling Thief

(Please visit my Facebook and give me some feedback on what you think of this story. Thank you!)

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She watched as the man climbed through the window. Her grin grew wider.

It was very smart of the thief to break in during the day. The two-story house was built at the end of a street on the edge of town. There was a good amount of foliage hiding its front and back yards from the neighbors and any passing cars. Most people on this street were gone during the day, off to work or school. He must have been surveying this place for about a week or so to know when her master would be away. But, unfortunately for him, he had never seen her go in or out. He did not know Bellatrix was here.

She had been stuck in the house for about a month now. She had been hiding from the others ever since she stole that precious item from the Mistress. Knowing that wretched woman, she probably already realized where Bellatrix was. But the girl also knew that she would not dare come here – or send anyone else – to get the item back, because she feared the master, Lord Bahram.

A loud thump tore her from her thoughts. She looked down to find the thief had just dropped the DVD player. He stopped for a second, staying completely still. She watched him, wondering if she should jump him now, or wait a little longer.

He unfroze and grabbed the electronic device. She decided to pounce on him now. Gearing up to leap from the banister and land on him, she barely noticed the man turning his attention to the front closet door.

As he placed his hand on the knob, she sprang from her position.

“No! Don’t you idiot!”

Surprised, he twisted around, falling back.

But it was too late.

The closet door sprang open.

A giant green tongue-like tentacle shot out, wrapped itself around the thief, and pulled him inside.

She could hear his blood-curdling scream as the door shut.

Her anger grew. She jumped down from the second floor and raced over to the door. Kicking it with her foot, she shouted, “damn monster! Give me back my prey! He was mine to toy with, not yours!”

There was no answer, though. Just the gurgling noise of the man being swallowed whole.

She screamed in anger, clawing at the door until she was tired.

She screeched insults at the creature as she went to the window to shut it.

 

A young man came into the house. The storm that was raging outside had soaked him to the core. He took off his suit jacket and hat, placing them on two large hooks. He stepped into a nearby powder room, grabbed a small hand towel, and hurriedly dried his tanned skin and lightly colored hair. He was deftly afraid of catching colds.

The weight from the long day had settled right into his neck and shoulders, twisting each disk and muscle tightly. He ached, and couldn’t stand the thought of trying to sleep with the pain that night. Before going to bed, he absolutely needed to take a pain pill and smooth some of his homemade balm – a thick potion he would make up every so often that consisted of dead plants and frog tongues – over his aching body.

When he realized that there was no annoying game show playing, he placed the towel down and walked into the living room.

“Bellatrix. I’m home.” He walked through the house. Just a moment later, he heard a thump from the kitchen.

He entered, seeing his young student looking irritated at the small counter, gripping the life out of an empty can of soda.

“Something wrong?”

She pouted, “your stupid creature down there stole my prey today!”

“What?”

“It’s what I said. It stole my prey! There was a stupid thief that came in and I was going to catch him for you. But he just had to be an idiot and go near the door to get eaten!”

He laughed. “I’m sure there will be more prey for you to catch later.”

“But that’s not all of it, Master!”

“Oh?” he grabbed the milk out of the fridge and poured himself a glass. “There’s more?”

“He stole the DVD player, too! And when that thing ate him, it ate it!”

He laughed again. “Really? She must be having a stomach ache by now.”

“Master!”

He looked sternly at her, quieting the girl.

“Sorry.”

He sat his milk down and walked to the front closet. Knocking on the door, he spoke sweetly, “Darling. Did you have an early dinner today?”

He could hear rumbling.

“You know you shouldn’t eat too much. It upsets your stomach.”

Some rustling.

“Did you eat what he was carrying, sweetie?”

With that, the door opened. He stepped out of the way just in time to avoid a slimy bag being thrown out. It hit Bellatrix, who had followed her master into the room, right in the stomach. She groaned a little. The door closed.

“Thank you!”

He turned to see his student’s face contort with disgust from the repulsive smell. The bag was dripping green puss onto her shirt and hands.

“Gross! She slimed all over it!”

“Check to see if it seeped through the bag. If so, I’ll buy us a new player tomorrow.”

As she reached in the bag, she let out a slew of gagging noises and curses. Seeing her in a fit of rage from being forced to touch his creature’s mucus made him laugh again.

This had turned into a good day after all.

/

© E.N. Chaffin 2016. Any reproduction without author permission is against copyright laws under the United States of America.

Basement Thief

This will be my first post of my original short stories. Please visit my Facebook and give me some feedback on what you think of this story. Thank you! ^_^

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His candy was gone again.

He gritted his teeth and slammed the top back on his special treasure box.

“Mom! Dad! Billy stole my candy!”

He rushed down the stairs to the main floor, stomping into the kitchen.

His mother was making dinner, while his father was finishing some papers from work. Both were occasionally eyeing his sister Emmy, who was strapped into her high chair, making a mess of some very squishable green peas.

“Mom!”

“What, sweetie?”

“Billy stole my candy again!”

The front door slammed. The little boy popped his head out to see his brother walking through the living room, bat in hand.

“Billy!”

“I didn’t do anything!” the teenager shouted.

“Did you take Timmy’s candy?”

Billy pushed Timmy out of the way, heading straight for the fridge, “No. I don’t like eight-month-old candy. That crap’s all the way from Valentine’s Day.”

“No it isn’t!” Timmy glared at his brother, “It’s candy from my birthday!”

“Whatever. Still, wouldn’t eat it.”

With a soda in hand, Billy skirted passed his brother again, avoiding a tiny fist that wished to collide a little too close to the middle of his jeans.

Timmy huffed, angry at himself for missing. He turned his attention back to his mother, hoping she would resolve everything.

“But I put candy in my treasure box just yesterday! And now it’s gone!”

His father finally looked up, “You know you’re not supposed to have food in your room. That’s how you get cockroaches and insects in there.”

“Roaches?!”

“Big ones too.”

“Mom!”

His mother sighed, putting down the spoon she was using. She wiped her hands on her apron and crouched down to her son’s level. “Now, Timmy, you know that accusing people is wrong. Especially if you have no evidence to prove it.”

“But –”

“But nothing. Your brother leaves the house before you do, and comes back home late because of practice. When would he be able to get into your room?”

Timmy never thought of that. But who could have stolen his precious candy? When he realized someone was taking it from his treasure box, he had hidden the rest somewhere else. It was only the last few nights he tried setting a trap for the burglar, but every time he tried to catch him, he would be too late.

He heard a snicker from behind him, “Told ya’ I didn’t steal anything, brat.” Billy came back in and nudged his brother aside. He could hear Emmy laugh. Stupid baby being on his brother’s side.

“Billy, please don’t make this worse.”

“But mom! Who’s been stealing my candy then?!”

His brother snorted. “Probably dad. You know he hasn’t been keeping his diet.”

“My diet is none of your business.”

“It’s true, though.”

“Billy. You know your father’s been having a hard time keeping up with his diet since the firm has been putting more work on his plate.”

“Don’t you always tell me excuses are never the answer?”

“Billy!”

“What? It’s true, right?”

Knowing he wasn’t going to get an answer as the daily argument between the three started up, Timmy huffed and puffed all the way back to his room. Before he reached the stairs, though, he thought he heard a thud from beyond the basement door.

“Mom! I just heard a sound from the basement!”

“It’s just the laundry, dear!” his mother shouted, trying to be heard over the debate forming between the other two. “You know how the washer gets unleveled easily.”

As she went back to her work of cooking and playing referee, Timmy thought he heard another noise. He decided to open the door, though he was never supposed to without his mother or father right there. He was only going to peek in, though.

The door creaked opened slightly. He didn’t really see anything, except the washer and dryer at the end of the stairs. The basement wasn’t creepy or anything; his parents redid it last summer, making it into a giant T.V. and play room – plus laundry, which they couldn’t move anywhere else. They had even put a blue-tiled ceiling up to make it more enjoyable for him. But that didn’t mean he was not afraid of being down there alone.

Without seeing anything except two dead machines, he shut the door again and walked back to his room.

 

That night, Timmy woke to his sister’s whining. He looked over, finding her baby monitor sitting on his bedside table. He wondered how it got there.

He knew that he didn’t put it in his room; his mother and father never allowed him to play with the baby Walkie-Talkies. But why was it there? He heard a shushing sound coming from the other end of the monitor. He wondered who it was.

Out of pure curiosity, he got up and walked to his door. He automatically noticed the hallway nightlight was off. Holding on tightly to his teddy bear, Mr. Fuzzy, who was the best protector against evil and all things bad, Timmy peered out into the hall.

From what he could tell, nothing seemed out of placed. He didn’t see his brother’s light on, so he wasn’t sure if he was the one who put the monitor in his room. Though, he wouldn’t put it past Billy to try and scare him anytime he could, with anything he could get his hands on.

Behind him, a shuffling noise rang out of the tiny speaker, followed by more of Emmy’s whining. Gathering all the bravery he could, he decided to check on her to make sure she was safe.

With Mr. Fuzzy in hand, Timmy made his way towards his sister’s room. He shuffled past his parents’ room, which was right in the middle of his and Emmy’s. He glanced to the other side of the hall. The bathroom sat with its door wide open, its nightlight off as well. His eyes went to his brother’s room. No lights. No sound.

He made it to his sister’s room. Her door was slightly opened. No light shone, but Timmy could see his father was in there, standing over Emmy’s crib, whispering to her.

Timmy spoke up in a voice as quiet as he could get, not wanting to scare his dad or wake his sister, “Daddy? Is Emmy okay?”

The man looked up at him and made a low shushing sound.

Timmy nodded. “Okay, daddy. I love you.”

As quietly as he could, the boy backed up and turned down the hallway again. But right as he got to his parents’ door, an idea popped into his head.

He scuttled into the room and up to his mother’s side of the bed. “Momma,” he tugged at her shoulder, “I think Dad needs your help with Emmy. He can’t get her to stop crying.”

She groaned, barely waking up to the sound of his voice, “What do you mean, sweetie?”

“Daddy needs your help with Emmy.”

“Don’t be silly,” a yawn escaped her lips, “Your dad’s right here. And Emmy hasn’t cried all night.”

Timmy looked up at her, confused. He started to walk to the other side of the bed until he saw his father lying right beside his mother. Wasn’t he just in Emmy’s room, though?

At that moment, Timmy heard rushing footsteps go by. He ran to the hallway, seeing a big, dark figure run down the stairs.

He rushed to his sister’s room. But she wasn’t there.

He ran back to his parent’s bedside, screaming and shouting, “Emmy’s gone! Emmy’s gone!”

His parents shot out of bed and rushed into their daughter’s room.

She wasn’t there.

“Honey! Call the police!”

Timmy’s dad grabbed a bat and headed downstairs.

 

“Early this morning, police had found 38-year-old Tom Brown in the basement of a local family, holding their one-year-old daughter in his arms,” the newscaster said. “Apparently, Brown had been living in their basement’s ceiling for the last few months. Among the man’s possessions, they found a sleeping bag, clothes, an old backpack, various candy wrappers and cans, and a set of knives. When the police took Brown away, he merely just laughed, stating ‘I was only planning to kill them. No harm done.’ At this time, the police are preparing for a formal investigation into the case. Though all five members of the family are safe, they are still trying to figure out how this man got into their house in the first place –”

The T.V. switched off, leaving a young man in the dark. A mischievous grin had painted itself onto his face.

“Looks like my little shadow creatures are doin’ their jobs just fine. Ain’t that right, sweetie?”

Seeping from a nearby corner, a group of shadows slithered across the floor, up the coach, and around his shoulders, seeming to hug him.

“Wait until Talos hears about this. He’s going to love it!”

The shadows hugged him closer as the air filled with his own unnerving cackle.

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© E.N. Chaffin 2016. Any reproduction without author permission is against copywright laws under the United States of America.