GZ Tales: Percival's Tale Part 1

 

Mist floated across the southern battlefield like ghosts of the fallen. The horse shifted from hoof to hoof nervously under its rider, Captain Louis Percival. Captain Percival ignored his horse as he stared across the wide field toward the enemy. His Union uniform was more brown than blue, like the rest of his men. Even the brass on his hat carried the spattering of combat. Captain Percival’s men held their ground in a long arrangement of dugouts lined with debris and bodies. On the other side of that wide field in Louisiana, Captain Percival could see the forces of Colonel Amon LeFey. Those forces outnumbered the Union soldiers 2 to 1.

            For either side, the field would be a long charge to get into effective rifle range. Percival’s troops were weathered and tired. LeFey’s troops looked too comfortable for Percival’s liking.

            Captain Percival was proud of his men. None of them ever mentioned retreat and all of them wanted to end Confederate control of Louisiana. Percival was even more proud of them because they had no idea how much more risk they faced that day than any other in the whole war. They had splintered away from the command forces under Major Nathaniel Prentice Banks for something greater than any battle the Civil War had.

            Percival looked to his Sergeant who stood ready nearby, “Make sure every man’s rifle is loaded and ready to fire.”

            “Yes, Sir!” and the man with thick mustache turned to other men, “All right, you louts, have those rifles ready!” The Sergeant stomped away shouting at the other men.

            Captain Percival removed a glove and scratched away some debris from his reddish brown mustache and beard. Then he put the glove back on and drew his sword for examination. He didn’t carry the standard issue cutlass, rather a blade passed down for generations. A family crest decorated the center of the hand guard. It was a crest older the United States could ever dream. Percival wiped away some blood staining from the blade and stared at his reflection in the metal.

            “Sir!” The Sergeant had returned to snap Percival out of distant thoughts, “The men await your orders. Every last rifle is primed and ready. If I may, the men do wonder what your idea is this time; with us being out of range and all.”

            “Have I ever not had an idea?”

            “No, Sir!”

            Colonel Amon LeFey sat on his own horse with his Lieutenant on a mount next to him. LeFey’s bushy white mustache and goatee did little to hide the amused smirk on his face. Unlike Captain Percival, LeFey’s uniform was crisp and clean. Not a drop of blood or sweat showed anywhere on the man.

            “It appears there’s movement in the Union camp, Boys,” LeFey scoffed, “Maybe they think they’re ready to try again. Stand ready!”

            His men formed lines awaiting a Union charge. Their rifles were also primed and ready to fire.

            “What are they doing, Sir?” Lieutenant Levar asked as he mused over the situation.

            “It appears they aim their rifles into the air,” LeFey answered. “They must know they are out of range.”

            “Perhaps they’ve lost their minds?”

            “That would be nice, but don’t underestimate Captain Percival. He always has a reason for everything he does.”

            “A distraction then?”

            “Perhaps.”

            Rifle fire echoed across the field as Percival’s men fired at a high angle. LeFey could see them rushing to reload. He considered ordering a charge, but then the first of the metal balls came down. From the high angle of fire the heavy metal balls from the black powder rifles fell like hail stones. They didn’t hurt but a few men, but it did force them to move.

            “Charge and fire!” LeFey shouted, but the Union soldiers were already doing the same.

            All either side needed was a 30 yard advance to be in better firing range. Percival’s men made it first. The first row of men dropped to one knee while the second aimed over their shoulders.

            “Fire!” the Sergeant shouted, and they did.

            This time more shots found their marks as Confederate soldiers fell while preparing to aim. The Union troops charged with their bayonets, hoping to close the gap before taking too much return fire. They didn’t quite make it, but close quarters combat joined next anyway. Bayonets, knives, and swords clashed with the occasional sound of gunfire, painting the field with blood.  Lieutenant Levar took a bullet to the skull and fell from his horse. LeFey stayed ridged in saddle. He glared at the Captain, fighting through the crowd from horseback.

            “Die! Come on! Die in the crossfire!” LeFey growled as he peered through the mist and smoke.

            Captain Percival charged through the bodies on his horse with sword held high. Any enemy within swinging distance caught a mean slash as Percival went by. Through the smoke, Percival could just see the outline of his target. Percival wanted more than just an outline. He wanted the face of LeFey within fingers grasp. His horse gave a cry of pain as it suddenly crashed to the ground. Percival rolled clear and fended off another Confederate soldier quickly.

            LeFey could see Percival clearly now, emerging from the battle with an expression of fury.

            “Kill him, damn it! Kill him!” LeFey growled.

            Percival would not be stopped. Any who got in his way were dispatched by sword with ridiculous ease. It was as if Percival had training above that of the common soldier.

            Colonel LeFey drew his pistol, more than willing to shoot through his own men. A rifle shot sounded and the pistol flew from the Colonel’s grip. Percival’s Sergeant stood nearby, ready to charge with his bayonet to finish the job. Colonel LeFey glared at the Sergeant with eyes that shimmered. Without any strength to stop himself, the Sergeant brought his bayonet up under his own jaw and thrust it clear into his brain.

            Colonel LeFey turned his attention back to Percival who now stood only ten feet away.

            “You’re going to pay for that!” Percival shouted, “You and me, LeFey!”

            “You’ll never have the sword, Percival!” LeFey shouted back, “Never!”

            Colonel LeFey raised a hand as Percival drew the revolver and aimed it. As the weapon fired, there was a great flash of light that blinded all who were nearby.

            As the bright flare faded, it was replaced by a blaring noise. Captain Percival rolled across the ground as the speeding car nearly hit him. From the curb, Percival stood up slowly as he took in the impossible sight around him.

            Buildings of brick and mortar surrounded him on the city street. Roaring carriages without horses went past him in various colors. Tall metal poles loomed overhead with light fixtures that he didn’t understand. People walking past wore the strangest clothing he had ever seen. There were so many styles of odd clothing; Percival thought there must be a costume ball.

            “Is he drunk?” A woman in a business suit asked as she passed him by.

A woman not wearing a dress was a confounding sight, and there were many of them.

“Weirdo,” said a man in leather and chains passing in the opposite direction of the business woman.

GZ Tales: Imaginary Enemy Part 2

 

“I have an imaginary friend, but he's not very nice. Is yours nice?” The table next to the bed shook slightly.

            “Yeah,” Larry replied, feeling a tremor in the floor, “I have a very good friend. Maybe you'd like to meet him.” He eyed the table suspiciously.

            “Oh no. No, no, no.”

            “What is it, Isa? What's wrong?”

            Her eyes welled with tears, “You should run.”

            A shadow grew and loomed in the corner of the room.

            “It's not the child!” Nyhtwulf's voice boomed in his head.

            “Ow! Too loud.”

            “It's a secondary entity.”

            “Can you tackle it?”

            “I will do my best.”

            “I'll grab the girl.” He turned his attention back to Isa, “Okay, this is very important. I need you to listen to me. You listening?”

            She nodded and sniffled.

            “This is not your friend. Friends don't hurt people. This is one of the bad guys and I'm here to help you escape. But you have to be brave for me.”

            She shook her head as the shadow grew closer, “You can't. No one can.”

            “We can. My friend is right outside. He'll help us. Now, we are going to have to run, okay?” He held out his hand.

            A tall humanoid shape manifested from the shadow. It's raspy voice filled the air, “You mustn't touch the children.”

            A savage roar echoed as Nyhtwulf flew into the room and tried a flying tackle. Since both of them were intangible it worked. The two of them went through the far wall. Blacktide snatched up the surprised girl in his arms and ran out the door.

            “Out of my way now!” he shouted as an orderly almost stepped in front of him. The rest wanted nothing to do with the situation and were glad to stay out of it.

            “He's not my friend?” Isa asked as she clutched tight to his shoulder.

            “No. He's not.”

            “Is he the Boogey man?”

            “I don't know, Isa, but we're going to find out. Did he ever mention having a name?” He raced into a stairwell to avoid being caught in the elevator.

            “Silhouette.”

            “Wow, that's a big word for a little kid. I wonder why he calls himself that?”

            At that moment, the shadowy creature came through the door behind them, but Nyhtwulf was on him again and they spun out a nearby window. As the two struggled with each other they rolled and flew through walls of patients’ rooms and doctor's offices. People fled and screamed at the sight of them. Since this place was a psychiatric hospital, matters were worse. Patients suffering anxiety disorders were in total panic. Much of the staff were too busy dodging for themselves to contain panicking patients.

            “I am having difficulty containing him. Do you have a plan?” Nyhtwulf's voice came again into Larry’s mind.

            “Get him outside. That's where I'm going.”

            Knowing that Nythwulf and Silhouette weren't far behind, he found the first door on ground level he could and burst outside. Alarms blared but they were the least of his worries. He ran across the green lawn to a small grove of trees and bushes. He set Isa down.

            “You hide in there. We'll deal with this guy now.”

            Isa didn't argue. She crawled into the thick of the bushes and curled up tight, hugging her knees. “He'll burn you.”

            “Not if I burn him first. Now close your eyes tight until I tell you to open them.” He didn't want the scene to terrify her further andcould think of nothing else to protect her.

           

Nyhtwulf and the Silhouette spun out into the air, snarling, swiping and clawing at each other. Even though they could connect somewhat, they didn't seem able to hurt each other very much. Blacktide raised the intensity of his disintegration field around his body. The ground at his feet began to smoulder. He had no idea if his power could work on such a being. He had never tried before. He raised his hand and took aim. He didn't want to hit his partner. Could his power hurt Nyhtwulf? This thought caused him to pause. He didn't want to hurt another friend with his power ever again; especially not his best friend and partner.

            “The child, the child!” it snarled as it finally broke free and lunged for Blacktide.

            “Now! Have faith my friend and strike now!” Larry  hated it when Nyhtwulf shouted in his head, but this time it was for good cause. It shook him back to reality and he fired his power just as the beast was within inches of him. Disintegration makes kind of a low coughing “whump” noise barely audible to human ears. The energy beam hit the shadowy Silhouette and actually threw the entity backwards a few yards. The Silhouette dropped to its knees, clutching what appeared to be its chest. Its red eyes opened wide as if it were as surprised. Nyhtwulf flew up behind it and ghosted a hand through its head. Nyhtwulf’s unique power to disrupt mental and life energies took effect. The entity gave a terrible shriek that rattled windows and made everyone cover their ears. Then it exploded in all directions like shadows running from rays of the sun.

As the ringing in his ears wore off, Blacktide stood back up from one knee and looked around.
            “It is gone,” Nyhtwulf said as he shook off the effect by rattling his big head back and forth. “I no longer sense it.”

            “Guess we won't know what its deal was then,” he looked back to Isa and knelt near the bushes. “Hey, you okay? Come on out and meet my friend. I promise you he's nice.”
            Isa accepted a hand to help her out of the bushes. She looked up at Nyhtwulf in wonder.

            “Are you a dog man?”

            He chuckled softly, “I look like one don't I?”

            “Do you sense any reason that thing was interested in her?” Blacktide asked.

            “I sense dormant psychic ability in her. It is possible it was drawn to that, particularly because she is a child.”

            “Will he come back?” Isa asked.

            “I don't think so. And if it does, we'll send it running,” Blacktide said. “But how would you like to go to a much nicer place than this?”

            “Is it a hospital?”

            “Kinda, but way cooler than this one. You can even have a ride on my motorcycle.” He spoke of a hospital for people with powers. It was a place that existed to study developing powers in people and help them with control if needed.

            “That would be nice,” she looked up at Nyhtwulf, “but I'd really like to fly. Will he carry me?”

            Larry smiled, “Ask him.”

            Nyhtwulf was too happy to oblige, for the joy of a child.

GZ Tales: Imaginary Enemy: Part 1

 

“I don't know what you think you're getting away with, young lady,” the nurse scolded the red headed little girl.

            The child sat on her hospital bed with her knees in her arms, rocking slightly. Tears streamed down her face. “You shouldn't yell at me,” she murmured.

            “What?” the nurse scowled at the audacity. “How dare you? I've never met an eight year old with such horrible manners!” The lecture continued but the little girl buried her face in her knees. The metal service table next to her bed trembled as if in a light earthquake. The nurse took no notice of this, being too upset at what she saw as rude and disrespectful behavior. In a far corner of the room a shadow formed and grew out across the walls and ceiling, reaching up over the nurse’s head.

            “You need to look at me when I'm talking to you, little missy!”

            The little girl looked up, her face soaked with tears. Her expression was one of agony, “You should run now,” she said desperately, “Please run away.”

            The nurse looked up to the darkness that now obscured the view of part of the room. The girl hid her face sobbing, “No, no, no.”

            A new raspy voice floated into the room, “You mustn't suffer the children.”

            The nurse screamed. The sound echoed across the hospital ward, startling patients and staff. Staff members ran to the sound, finding the air thick with the smell of rancid smoke and burning flesh.

            Larry Peters pulled his motorcycle into the parking garage across from the government office he worked at. His long blonde hair was windblown, but he didn't care. He hated helmets. The Parahuman Activity Commission (PAC) existed to investigate threats conventional law enforcement couldn't handle. He was better known by his operating handle, Blacktide. His name came from his ability to emit disintegration energy from his body. Disintegration energy is like a beam of darkness or shadow that can move as fast as light.

             Before Blacktide joined up with PAC he had trouble controlling his powers. This caused great anxiety for him. He always worried for friends and anyone he might come to care for. His powers manifested at a very young age. Larry and his parents were sitting at breakfast when a surge of his power made him and orphan. The event lives on his nightmares to this day.

 Then he met his partner, a Twilie Demon called Nyhtwulf. When they first met, the demon formed a psychic bond with Larry. That bond allowed him to buffer Larry's powers and help him control them. At first it was a violation of Larry’s extremely private life. However, they soon became the best of friends and trusted partners.

            As Larry parked his bike, Nyhtwulf was nearby in his favorite delicatessen. Seeing the shadowy werewolf-like being with huge black feathery wings come in to the cafe always raised eyebrows and got attention. Since he usually moved intangibly, he never bothered to open the door. Nyhtwulf would just ghost through it, often startling patrons. Since his motives were always friendly, he never understood the fuss. The owner had come to accept it, especially since Nyhtwulf was a paying customer with a big appetite. Nyhtwulf had come for an entire box of his favorite treat, bite sized cream cheese cubes in foil wrappers.

            “Here you go, just the way you like them and on your tab,” said the man at the register.

Nyhtwulf snatched up the box with a lupine grin, “Thank you!”

            On his way out the deli, he tore open the box and popped a handful into his mouth, wrappers and all.

            “I see you picked up your afternoon snack,” Larry said as he walked up on the busy New York City street.

            “Yes, it's what I left early for.”

            The two of them shared a high loft apartment where Nyhtwulf could enjoy views of the city and Larry could get some peace and quiet. They walked across the street to the office building. Inside, they were greeted by Sally, the receptionist, who gave them a sweet smile.

            “He's waiting for you and in a mood,” she said.

            Commander Henry P. Larratus was always in a gruff mood and short on patience. He expected jobs to be done quickly and efficiently. Sometimes, the members of PAC liked to aggravate him just to see his bald head turn red. They were, however, careful not to do that too much. Blacktide and Nyhtwulf went straight to his office to see what the news was.

            “It's about time you two got here,” Larratus grumbled as they walked in. “I've got one that's right up your alley, Blacktide. A little girl who may be developing dangerous powers. Burned a nurse pretty badly in the psych ward this morning. Here, read the report.” He tossed a folder across the desk but didn't wait for a response, “I want you to find out if she's developing or if it's something else. Now get going.”

            Once you're dismissed by Commander Larratus, it means he has nothing more to tell you so it's useless to ask. Larry took the folder and walked out of the office. He went to his desk to look it over. As he read the nurse's story it reminded him very much of his own. Thanks to their psychic link, Nyhtwulf read the information at the same time without having to look.

            “She's just like me,” Larry said.

            “Perhaps,” Nyhtwulf answered as he put his box of cream cheese in their office refrigerator.

            They set out immediately. The story of a little girl named Isa had piqued Larry’s interest. Nyhtwulf flew overhead as Blacktide rode his motorcycle through the thick daily traffic.

The psychiatric hospital lay on the outskirts of the city in a peaceful green country setting. Pine trees and green rolling hills complimented the place's floral and well kept grounds. Inside, half of the children's wing had been evacuated. No one dared enter the little girl's room. When Blacktide and Nyhtwulf arrived they could see the relief in faces of the staff.

“No one can move her and we're done trying,” and orderly said, “Our head nurse suffered third degree burns all over her body.”

            “Just tell me which room is hers,” Larry said, not caring for the dismissive attitude he saw mixed in with their fear. He couldn't shake how everyone turned their backs on him once too. They blamed him for his powers when he never even asked to have them. They were afraid of him.

            “Room 115. Just don't upset her. That's when things go bad. Watch out for the shadows.”

            Larry walked away from the orderly abruptly and headed for the room.

            “I will wait outside in order not to frighten the child,” Nyhtfwulf suggested. “I do sense something.”

            “Good idea. What is it?”

            “I'm not sure yet.”

            Isa sat on her bed just as before and looked up when Larry knocked on the door frame. He took off his sunglasses and tucked them into his leather jacket.

            “Hey there.”

            “Are you here to take me away?”

            “Do you want me to?”

            She shrugged, “I don't know if you can.”

            “Well, let's not think about that then. Instead, do you like stories?”

            Hesitantly she nodded.

            “May I come in and sit in that chair?”

            Again she nodded.

            “My name's Larry, but they call me Blacktide. What's your name?”

            “Isa.”

            “I like that name.”

            She perked up a little, “So, what's your story about?”

            Larry leaned forward in his chair, “Well, when I was just a little older than you, something really weird happened to me.” At the sound of this she perked up even more.

            “I found out that I had an amazing ability. I could turn anything around me into smoke. It's call disintegration. Do you know what happened after that?”

            She shook her head, wide-eyed with wonder.

            “Everyone got scared of me.”

            “Everyone is scared of me too!” Isa exclaimed, “Do you also have an imaginary friend?”

            “Imaginary friend?”

            “I have an imaginary friend, but he's not very nice. Is yours nice?” The table next to the bed shook slightly.

GZ Tales: The Bard's Apple Pie Part 2

 

“Before you ask, I'll tell you,” the guitar-man said, “Those are Rotanian soldiers. They're a cold relentless army of robots from another world.” 

            “Those are robots?” Rick gasped. Unable to stand it any further, the guitar-man reached out and brushed away the egg from Rick's mustache. 

            “Yes. Robots. They're why I'm here. So, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to try and save your town.”

            “Who are you?” Joe asked. 

            “I'm Rockaria,” he handed Joyce a hundred dollar bill, “Awesome pie!” Then he stepped out the door and into the street. As he did, he brought his guitar around in front of him and adjusted the strap. He stopped in the middle of the street facing the Rotanians. 

            “What's he doing?” Lee asked. 

            “He'll be killed,” Joyce said. 

            Without hesitation, they fired at him. He gripped the neck and threw his fingers across the strings. For an electric guitar, it needed no power source that anyone could see. It roared a chord that shook the ground and the energy bolts exploded several feet before they could reach him. It was like they hit an invisible wall. All the dust on him and his guitar burst away from them and his instrument shined magnificently in the sun. 

            The strange robots fired on him again to the same result. He turned slightly and pointed the neck end as he played a long series of notes that would make legendary rockers proud. A bolt of lightning flew from the neck to the lead Rotanian. It arced to the rest and blew all six of them apart. 

            “He is good,” Joe said. 

            “Shut up, I'm trying to pay attention to this,” Rick said. 

            “Rick, you're a jerk,” Joyce added. 

            Rockeria spun just in time to throw a chord that stopped another barrage of rifle fire. More soldiers came from the other direction. 

            “Aw, come on. They didn't just send foot soldiers! Where's the big stuff?” he chided them as he played a new arrangement. 

            The robots shook in the throw of the sonic assault and their heads exploded. Then two new robots appeared out of thin air from teleportation. These were different in that each had a four point silver star on the front of its helmet. 

            “Starhunters, it's about time,” Rockaria said. 

            They vanished as he played frantically and reappeared near him. They attacked like master martial artists punching and kicking his barrier from all directions. Suddenly, one seemed to connect and Rockaria was tossed through the window of a shop across the street. 

            “Oh no,” Joyce exclaimed. 

            “Is he dead?” Joe asked. 

            A Starhunter jumped through the window after him but a bright beam of light caught it in the chest. Its arms and legs landed in the street. Its  head landed on the sidewalk near the cafe. 

            “Nope, still kickin,” Rick reported. 

            Another beam went after the second Starhunter but it vanished again. This time a field of crackling energy formed and caught it as it reappeared. It stood stunned as he played the beam of light through its head. 

            “Now, I know better than to think we're done already,” Rockaria said.

            As if in answer, he heard the hum of extraterrestrial machinery as the bizarre looking tank rumbled into view. It rolled on studded treads and gleamed with black and silver metals. Its barrel was wide and kind of flattened and glowing with power. It leveled the barrel to aim and fired an intense beam of energy. The ground where Rockaria stood exploded in a cloud of debris and dirt. 

            “Oh, now he's dead,” Joyce shook her head. 

            “No, look over there!” Rick shouted. 

            “How'd he get over there?” Lee asked. 

            Rockaria stood on top of the tank. Its turret turned looking for him and he held his playing hand high. He brought it down hard on the strings and another explosion shook the whole street. Bits of metal rained down all around. Rockaria now stood on top of the building across from the cafe. 

            “Now what's he doing?” Rick asked. 

            “I don't know but this beats every rock concert I ever went to,” Joe said. 

            “Okay, come on,” Rockaria said, “I've shown plenty of resistance. Come out and let's finish this!” 

            A great shadow appeared over the street as the ship hovered over the town. It dwarfed the tank and probably carried everything he had fought so far. 

            “Now, we're talking,” Rockaria said. He started a new range of notes and his guitar took on a fierce glow. The more he played, the brighter it grew. From the craft, what could only be described as several red targeting beams converged on him. Brighter and brighter he glowed, until the people in the cafe had to shield their eyes. On board the ship, the main weapon charged, preparing to destroy him and the building he stood on. 

Now, the brightness engulfed all the area around him and even the ships systems had a hard time seeing him. The enemy pressed the button to fire their weapon. The explosion shattered every window in town on every car, truck and building. Joyce, Rick, Joe, and Lee were all thrown to the floor with an echoing ringing in their ears. As it faded, they slowly stood up. All they could see outside was a wall of smoke. For several minutes they stared and wondered if their town was still there. This time they thought Rockaria had to be gone with it all. 

Then they heard that guitar begin to play again. A wind rose and blew the smoke away. The ground trembled and cracks grew back together. The glass on the ground flew back into the frame like in a backwards movie. The same thing happened all across town as the damage reversed itself from the notes he played. The ship was gone and so were any signs of the Rotanians.

 The townsfolk went outside and met Rockaria as he wandered up in the street. 

            “They were going to raze your town and kill you all for mineral deposits here. Deposits they would use to make more robots.” 

            “How'd you know they were coming here?” Joyce asked. 

            “Well, it's a long story, but my guitar told me. Besides, isn't it obvious I'm not from around here?” 

            “Just a minute,” Lee ran back into the cafe and returned with a small white box. “Here. A pie to go.” 

            “Hey, thanks. This really is great pie.” 

            “What are you?” Joyce asked. 

            “I'm a bard. I use music to cast magic. Well, you'll be safe now, so you all take care,” he turned and vanished from sight. 

           The next day they changed the menu and became known for “The Bard’s Apple Pie,” the best pie in the county.

 

GZ Tales: The Bard's Apple Pie: Part 1

 

The day he strode into that dusty little town was one they wouldn't forget for generations. Dust coated his brown leather jacket. His long hair draped past his shoulders. If that wasn't enough to turn heads, the electric guitar slung across his back of red and gold certainly made up for it. He walked down the broken brick and dirt street of the little Texas town and entered the diner. On his way he passed the town barbershop, grocery, and an antique shop. It wasn’t much of a little town as you could throw a rock from end to end. It was run mostly by a few farmers and country folk so strangers stuck out like a neon sign. He took a seat at the counter and ignored the neck twisters in the room as he picked up the menu.

 

            “What can we get you?” The waitress said with indifference. He couldn't help but notice the thick invisible cloud of her perfume and how her hair was up so tight it offered migraines to onlookers. Her lipstick was on thick and red. The only thing missing from the older lady's stereotype was the loud cracking and smacking of gum.

 

            He forced himself to ignore the stench of that perfume but leaned back a little, “Joyce, it's been a long time since I had coffee or pie. So I'd like a slice of your apple pie with a nice cup of coffee, please.”

 

            With little else to do, Joyce had his order for him promptly. She almost tossed the plate down with a clatter. “Enjoy,” she said with a hint of sarcasm.

 

            He was about take his first bite when the heavyset man next to him interrupted, “Actually, Mister, that's the best pie in the county.”

 

            He took his bite and chewed thoughtfully, “It is very good. I can see I came to the right place.”

 

            “So, you're a musician, huh?”

 

            “Something like that,” he paused and held the coffee cup under his nose for a moment, closing his eyes to breathe in the aroma before taking a sip.

 

            “What do you mean? You either is or you ain't.”

 

            “Man, that is good coffee. Alright, is then.”

 

            “Okay then. Are you in a rock band?”

 

            “Stop bugging the man and let him finish his business, Joe,” said a man in a hunter’s vest and hat sitting in a booth, “I'm sure he's just passing through and wants to get on his way.”

 

            The guitar-man seemed to recognize the attitude and disdain for strangers, “Not to worry, friend, as soon as I'm done, I'll be on my way.”

 

            “Rick, don't you start nothing,” Joyce warned, “You still owe Lee for a broken table.”

 

            A small man came out in an apron on cue, “Yeah, and the Sheriff said I can ban you if you break anything else!”

 

            “That's unfortunate,” the guitar-man said as he worked on another bite.

 

            “Oh, yeah?” Rick said, “How so?”

 

            “No offense, friend,” he paused on his next to last bite, “Geez, this is good pie, but as I was saying; this guitar on my back is very special. You're going to think I'm crazy, but it tells me things.”

 

            “That is crazy,” Rick sneered with egg dangling from his mustache that everyone was now noticing.

 

            “It gets better. You see, why I found you're owing this fine establishment for damages so unfortunate (if not ironic) is that, in a few minutes, you're whole town is going to need repairs.”

 

            “What the heck are you talking about?” Rick demanded.

 

            “Mister, you take your crazy talk and just be on your way,” Joyce ordered.

 

            He stood and washed down his last bite with the rest of his coffee. He turned to Joe, “Best in the county? I believe you.”

 

            “Alright now, just you go,” Joyce ordered again.

 

            An explosion rocked the place, as the guitar-man watched the townsfolk run toward the windows.

 

            To say what was coming down the road was alien would be an understatement. There were six of them carrying strange rifles with glowing barrels. They were decked out in black and silver armor, mostly black. If they had faces, they were hidden behind blank, silver masks with no features or eye holes. Their helmets reminded everyone of old samurai warriors. It would have been preferable if they were samurai warriors. They were firing beams of reddish light from those rifles at cars and the fronts of buildings. Anything they hit exploded into a ball of fiery debris.

GZ Tales: To Kill Part 2

 

“Yes! I will destroy your world, noble King! I exist to kill!”

            Maniac’s charge threw wreckage in all directions. King Falcon summoned his wings and darted into the air as a massive hand crashed to the ground. King Falcon swung his axe across the Cyborian’s shoulder. Sparks flew but little damage was done. Cyborian armor is heavily equipped with repair programs as well as weapons. Maniac responded with surprising speed and backhanded the King out of the air. King Falcon hit the ground and his body made a trench several yards long. But the King was notable for combat speed of his own, and was back into the air instantly. He hit Maniac with a beam of cosmic power, but the monster charged right through it.

            The two met head on. King Falcon swung his axe across Maniac’s chest as giant arms closed in. Maniac meant to press the hero King against another saw blade that extended from a joint in the chest. King Falcon flew out of the way just in time, and hit the monster across the head. With a jagged gash across his faceplate, Maniac grabbed the King in both hands. A massive energy surge made the whole area glow enough to be seen from space. Maniac threw King Falcon’s body through some of the starship wreckage with a crash.

            King Falcon struggle to get to his feet, “I’ve never been hit with such a surge,” he thought, “must get to my feet or…”

            A massive metal fist interrupted his thoughts and pounded him into the ground. Maniac’s laughter echoed as he followed up with one terrible blow after the other. Again and again, in rapid succession, Maniac landed energized giant fists into a forming crater. Finally, Maniac stood up over the body of King Falcon. Blood dripped from his armored hands. Maniac continued to laugh.

            “I told you, I exist to kill. My armor will repair itself soon and then I will kill your world and all its peoples. Oh, and what was that you said about distance not being a factor? Foolish pride, noble King.”

            Maniac was about to turn and leave when something caught his attention. King Falcon’s wings were extinguished and his body battered. Yet, a tiny ember of light appeared on the King’s right leg. As Maniac watched in wonder, more lights appeared. The glowing embers multiplied until the encompassed all of the King’s body. Energy readings grew fast in intensity. Maniac couldn’t figure out what they meant, but then he was blinded.

            The flash of light happened so fast and so bright that his optic sensors blinked out. A shockwave of heat turned all wreckage and the remains of the bodies to instant ashes. Maniac heard a shriek that almost made his sound sensors crackle. What he couldn’t see was the form of a great Phoenix blazing up hundreds of feet from the center of the fireball.

            When Maniac’s optics came back online, he saw an enraged King Falcon standing before him. King Falcon had his arm held back with the axe and before anything else could be done, that axe was sent for Maniac. It hit him full in the chest and spun as King Falcon held and outstretched hand to command it. A whirlwind of strikes hacked away at Maniac’s chest armor. Damage readings glared in the red.

            “I believe I said it doesn’t matter how far from home I am!” King Falcon’s voice boomed.

            The axe flew back to its master’s hand and King Falcon flew into the air. Maniac struggled to move but it was too late. The King came down in a glowing power dive with his axe. The blow made the ground shake for a mile in each direction. Maniac’s systems went into critical overdrive. King Falcon stood on his enemy’s chest and raised the axe high overhead. As he brought down the axe for Maniac’s head, the form of the Cyborian flickered and vanished.

            As his axe hit the ground, there was a peal of thunder. King Falcon stood alone. Maniac had retreated in defeat.

            “That’s right, run,” King Falcon said, “because if you ever come back, I’ll be the one doing the killing.”

            The Ring of Knowledge told him that Maniac wasn’t even in the same solar system anymore. Satisfied that his home was safe once again, King Falcon spread his wings and flew away.

            In another solar system, on some barren rock in space, Maniac hid himself. His systems would take days to repair. He seethed in rage at his defeat but knew that Arconia was out of his reach for the time being.

            “One day I will come for you, noble King and I will kill. I exist to kill.”

GZ Tales: To Kill: Part 1

 

            The grisly scene was just as described; bodies of an alien race, scattered in pieces and wreckage strewn across the surface of a lifeless planetoid. Nothing else existed on the moon sized orb but dirt and rock. King Falcon gripped his pole axe tightly as he hovered over the scene. His wings, fiery with arcs of lightning held him aloft over the carnage. When a group of travelers reported this to him, King Falcon wasted no time in getting there to investigate.

            King Falcon ruled the planet Arconia and its avian people. Arconians have humanoid bodies with the heads of various birds. The royalty of Arconia, like their King, have wings of fire and lightning that they can summon or dismiss at will. King Falcon’s brown muscular body is topped with the head of a Peregrine falcon. His deep red eyes glow with cosmic power.

            Those eyes had seen many horrors in their time, but this was particularly disturbing. The golden ring on his left hand, the Ring of Knowledge, told him this race’s home wasn’t far. He would fly there and notify them of the incident. First he wanted to figure out what caused this crash. King Falcon lowered to the ground and dismissed his wings. He held out his hand with the ring. The Ring of Knowledge is one of the Great Rings of the universe and it could tell him nearly anything he wanted to know. The King wasn’t without his own cosmic powers and senses however. They all told him the same thing.

            “Metron energy discharge, the whole wreck is thick with it,” King Falcon said to himself, “They were attacked.” He examined a large piece of the ship. “This was crumpled in a very large hand, wider than my shoulders.”

            King Falcon stood an impressive 7 feet and 11 inches, a foot taller than most Arconians. He was beginning to think this ship was attacked by a monster. Strewn through the wreckage, he could see people’s belongings. The gowns, trinkets, and expensive luggage told him that this was a luxury vessel. This kind of ship would not be a threat to anyone and would have little in the way of weaponry. As he grimaced at this terrible crime, his ring told him something else.

            “You may as well show yourself!” King Falcon shouted, “I know you’re there!”

            On the far side of the wreckage a 40 foot tall form materialized. King Falcon knew about Cyborians. They were a race of scientists that developed multi-dimensional combat armor and technology to defend themselves. All Cyborians were bonded to their own individually styled armor for life. King Falcon had met many of them, and he called more than a few “friend.”  But this Cyborian was new to him.  The ring warned him of an intense evil.

            The big Cyborian shined in silver and shades of blue. Its optics were angled to appear angry and glowed bright red. The speaker grill curved into a wide cruel smile. Dark blue shoulder plates rose high over its head from a joined point of the chest. On each shoulder, a saw blade gleamed in the starlight. A red gem glowed from the front center of its waist. Assorted spikes could be seen on fists, knees and boots. The monster’s entire design suggested a sadistic mind was at the helm.

            King Falcon had heard tales. He knew this Cyborian from reputation alone. This one was a renegade of his race and worse. This was Maniac, a genocidal serial killer. An untold number of races were extinct due to Maniac’s insatiable taste for blood.

 Haunting laughter echoed through the area.         “I knew you would come,” Maniac’s voice blared.

            “You didn’t have to kill these innocent people to get my attention,” King Falcon held his axe ready, anticipating a fight.

            “Oh, I know; I could have come to your world or just near it.” Maniac’s speaker grill seemed to sneer.

            “So, why all this?” King Falcon knew better than to ask, but the senseless waste of life still had him stunned.

            “I’ll give you two reasons, noble King. One, you are further from your home and source of power. Two, it was fun.”

            “You’ve made a grave error, Maniac. It doesn’t matter how far from home I am. Now I can see your plan. I think you intend to destroy Arconia.”

            Without another word or waiting for response, King Falcon threw his axe. Maniac crossed his giant arms and blocked the attack. The sound of metal against metal rang and echoed. Maniac barely stepped backwards from the force of the strike. As the axe flew back to its owner’s hand, Maniac charged.

            “Yes! I will destroy your world, noble King! I exist to kill!”

Be sure to check back for part 2 where the battle takes off. Want to get more of the stories faster? Hit my authors page and order your copy of any book I've written.  Go HERE