A Ghost Story Part 4

Here we go! It’s another installment of the new story written by Matticus and I! So, without further doo doo…

“No!” Jake screamed in rage as he jumped out of his bed.

The only thing going through his mind was saving his mother from the ghostly hands that were following her. As soon as he leapt up, however, the hands disappeared. She turned at his shout to see him rushing at her with anger on his face. To her credit, she didn’t back up. She didn’t even flinch. Jake’s mom stopped him dead in his tracks with just a look.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” she asked calmly.

Jake opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. He thought about what to say to her. In his mind, there was really nothing he could tell her at this point that would make anything better. The truth? She’d probably stop him midway through the story to tell him to stop making things up.

“Well?” she said, impatience creeping into her voice.

He looked into her eyes for a few moments before his gaze dropped to the floor. “It doesn’t matter,” he mumbled.

“It does to me,” she countered.

“No, it doesn’t. If I told you what was really happening, you wouldn’t believe me.”

Jake’s mom stepped beside him and put her arm across his shoulders. “Try me.”

Jake was tired.  He sighed and leaned against his mom.  He didn’t think she’d believe a single word he said but he didn’t think he could handle what was going on without some sort of support.  So, he might as well tell her.  He had nearly been killed twice in less than a day. Even the worst that could happen if she didn’t believe him wasn’t worth worrying about in comparison.

“I think I’m, we’re being haunted.”  He flicked his eyes up to check her expression, saw only her stone poker face, and quickly looked away.  “Some days ago, I watched some hands pull a book off the shelf.  I thought I dreamed it.  Then yesterday all sorts of crazy things happened.  I was choked twice.  The books on my bookshelf all changed.  I saw a guy was standing in my room for a minute.  I’ve heard the front door open and steps come up the stairs a whole bunch of times.  And, just now, I watched as hands were following after you to attack you.  That’s why I jumped out of bed.”

Jake hazarded another glance at his mother, she was looking at the bookcase though, so he couldn’t read her expression.  The fact that she hadn’t removed her arm from his shoulders or told him to quit being silly was encouraging though.

“What do you think?” He asked.

His mother didn’t immediately answer with words. Instead, she stood up, walked over to the bookcase, and picked up the copy of Unprepared that was sitting on it. “Didn’t you throw this away a while ago?”

Jake was floored. His mother had known he threw the book away? He thought he’d done a good job of hiding it from her. “Yeah,” he managed to stammer after recovering some of his wits.

She turned the book over. Her brows burrowed in thought once she saw the picture on the back. Bringing the book closer to get a better look, she chewed on her bottom lip for a minute until she spoke again. “This guy looks familiar,” she said absentmindedly, trying to think. “I feel like I’ve seen him lately.”

“He’s been legally declared dead,” Jake informed her.

When she turned her head to look at him, he just pointed to his laptop before walking over and finding the article again. He watched her as she read. The confusion on her face didn’t inspire much confidence in him. Wasn’t she the parent? Wasn’t she supposed to know exactly what to do in every situation?

“The longer I look at his picture,” she said, “the more I’m convinced that I’ve seen him recently. I just can’t place where.”

“I don’t know,” Jake said, trying to stifle a yawn.  “Sorry, I’m not going to be much help.  I haven’t gotten much sleep.  While you were at work something tried to strangle me.”

His mom looked up from the picture of the author to study her son.  Jake squirmed under her gaze. 

She crossed to him swiftly and silently and pulled his shirt collar down to look at his neck.  The speed of her movement startled him more than the action itself.  If he’d been more rested he would have anticipated her response to his statement.

She asked, “What do you mean something tried to strangle you?”

“I woke up and something was pressing against my throat.  I couldn’t breathe.  I thought…”  He stammered, “I thought I was going to die.  Started to black out and then I grabbed that book,” he pointed to Unprepared, “and waved it around and the pressure on my neck went away.”

She raised her eyebrows, “Waved it around?”

Jake mimicked what he had done in the middle of the night, and felt pretty foolish doing it.  Why would waving around that book have any impact on what had been choking him?  Remembering the brief encounter with the author, Jake added, “He said, ‘Everything you need is here,’ while pointing to the bookcase.”

His mother went back over to the bookcase and looked at each book. After spending a few minutes at the task, all she could do was shrug. “These are your normal books,” she said. “I don’t see how any of these would help in a supernatural situation.”

“Well, my books weren’t on the shelves when he said it. There were a bunch of dark colored books with weird writing in them.”

That’s when it hit him. He’d taken pictures of the words on his laptop. He quickly brought up his picture folder so he could show his mother. When he clicked on the image, however, it was now suddenly blurry. “Figures,” Jake scoffed in frustration. Looking at his mom, he added, “These images were clear when I took them. I don’t know why they look like that now.”

She leaned in closer to get a better look at the grainy pictures. While she was staring at them, Jake began to feel something. It was something strange. There was an electricity in the air. The hair on his arm started standing up. All of the sudden, the room grew darker. Not completely dark, but definitely a few shades dimmer.

As all of that was happening, the image on the screen was becoming clearer. Jake turned to see if his mother was noticing the weirdness going on only to discover she was part of it. Her gaze remained fixed on the screen and her eyes were no longer their normal green. They were completely white, like they were rolling back in her head.

He tentatively touched her hand, “Mom?”

There was no response.  She was completely zoned out.  Or completely zoned in on whatever the heck is going on.

Jake followed her gaze and was amazed to find that not only had the picture become perfectly clear again but he could understand the words.

Whispering, Jake began to read. “Portals can be opened between the living and the dead but only for short periods of time.  If you find yourself being attacked the best thing you can do is move swiftly away.  The dead attacking you will not be able to hold the portal open, follow you, and attack you.

“However, once you have become a target, it is unlikely the ghost will leave you be until they’ve gotten what they want.  They don’t sleep.  Time isn’t the same for them.  They can attack again as soon as they’ve built up enough energy to open the portal.

“So, while running away is a good temporary solution, at some point you will need to face your attacker, find out what they want, why they want it, and then figure out how you can get it for them.”

Jake’s eyes started to ache and he realized he hadn’t blinked since he’d started reading.  He scrunched his eyes together and shook his head and then opened his eyes back up to pick up reading where’s he left off but the picture had gone blurry again.

A Ghost Story Part 2

Hey everyone! Here is the second installment of the new story that Matticus and I are working on. We hope you enjoy it!

Jake tried grabbing at the ghost hands that were wrapped around his neck, but his own hands went right through them. There was still no pressure being applied to his wind pipe, yet he couldn’t force air down into his lungs. Black spots flashed into his vision at the lack of oxygen and he felt like he was on the verge of passing out. Just as everything was going dark, his mother’s face appeared in front of him.

“I hate that Amazon delivers this late,” she muttered, looking down at the package she was carrying. “Now, what were you up here yelling about?”

The ghost hands vanished from his throat when she walked in. Jake fell to his knees, taking deep breaths in between coughing fits. “Oh my god,” she said, rushing to his side. “Are you OK? What happened?”

Not knowing how to answer the second question, he started by answering the first. “Yeah,” he croaked out. “I can breathe now.”

“Your drink go down the wrong pipe?” she asked as she stepped back over to his desk. She picked up the notebook sitting on top of it and smiled. “That’s better. You almost had me fooled with those pages of gibberish.”

Jake took the notebook out of her hands and looked it over. Gone were the doodles and nonsensical equations. Instead, it was the report he had originally written out. Also gone was the notebook containing the sentences the ghost had forced him to write out.

Jake looked from the paper to his mother and half-smiled, “Sorry, it was a failed attempt at humor.  Long day, you know?”

She looked at him questioningly, “You feeling okay?”

She reached out to touch his forehead and he jumped away from her.  He couldn’t help it.  The sight of a hand coming towards his face, his neck, was too much for him to suppress the terror that still filled him.

“What’s wrong with you?” She demanded.

Jake didn’t know how to explain what had happened. 

She won’t believe it.  She’ll think I’m making it up and she’ll double my workload of chores as punishment.  I can’t tell her…

His lack of response was all the response she needed to say, “Maybe you should just head to bed and get some rest.”  Jake started to protest but she held up a hand and continued, “I’ll look over your paper and leave any notes I have so you can make any needed changes in the morning.”

Jake knew it was no use arguing with her.  He could see that her mind was already made up etched in her face.  He also knew it was highly unlikely he’d be getting any sleep.  Whatever had attacked could come back at any time. Still, eventually, tiredness overcame him.

He wasn’t sure how long he laid in bed before succumbing to his fatigue. It was long enough for him to read half of Unprepared, the book that was left on his bed by the ghost earlier. When he awoke, it was the middle of the night and the book was sitting on his chest, opened to the page he’d left off. Jake hoped that the book contained answers to what was going on. If it did, he certainly couldn’t see them.

Actually, the more he thought about it, the more convinced he was that he’d thrown it away months ago. Unprepared wasn’t a book that he’d paid for. He, along with every other person in his class, had been given a copy of the book at the beginning of the year. It was a guide on how to get ready for college and tips on how to improve your application to make yourself look better to the universities. 

It came back to him in a rush. He had thrown it away. He’d wanted to do it the day he got it, but his mother told him to hold on to it, just in case. So, he waited until he was sure she’d forgotten about it and tossed it in the trash. Had she found it and put it back in his room? 

Jake shook his head.  No, that’s not something she would do.  If she’d found it in the trash she’d have shoved it back into my arms with a lecture.  So, how did it get back on the shelf?

He closed the book and set it on the night stand.  Stretching out, he pushed aside some of his covers.  It was a hot night and now that he was awake he was too warm beneath the full assortment.  His curtain shifted as the hint of a breeze pushed through his open window.  The sound of the night filtered in and grew in his mind as he focused on them. 

A car backfired two streets over.  An owl was calling softly in the neighbor’s tree.  Some teenagers were laughing about something as they walked down his street.  He couldn’t catch the words but could hear enough of the inflection to guess they were doing something they shouldn’t be.  That time of night, that wasn’t really a hard guess anyway.

Sighing, he closed his eyes and tried to get back to sleep.  Suddenly, a weight began to press down on his neck again.  His eyes flew open and searched the room but there was nothing there.  And yet, the weight persisted.  His airway choked off and his hands came up to his neck to try and free himself from whatever was attacking him but there was nothing there. Panic gripped his heart as he realized he would soon be dead. His mother worked overnights, so she wouldn’t be there to save him this time. 

Jake’s mind went blank. The only experience he’d ever had with the supernatural before this happened as he viewed them on screens, whether they were big or small. None of them even came close to preparing him for actually living through one of his own. All he could do was flail one of his hands helplessly as he prayed to knock whatever was pressing down on him off. His other hand reached all around, hoping to find some weapon to fend off this assault, though he doubted anything in his room would be useful against an unseen assailant. 

As the air became scarce, his eyes lost focus. His mind went from blank to begging somebody, anybody, to save him. His hand, still searching, brushed up against something solid. Jake grabbed it and used it to try to smack whatever was hurting him. To his surprise, it worked. Seconds after waving the object in front of him, the pressure started to subside. A minute later, his eyes righted themselves and he finally saw what he had in his hand. It was the book. He’d used Unprepared to defend himself. 

The surprises didn’t end there. There was now a man standing at the foot of his bed, a man who looked exactly like the author’s picture on the back of the book.

He motioned to the bookcase and said, “You have everything you need here.”

Jake stammered, “Wh… what?”

His throat was raw and the word hurt coming out.  He didn’t want to think about how close he had been to being gone forever.  He didn’t have time to think about that anyway.  Something crazy was going on and this man, seemed to know something about it.  Jake needed answers.

“Who are you and what is going on?”

The man didn’t answer.  He motioned to the bookcase again, gave a half smile, and then started to disappear. 

“Wait!”

Jake jumped out of bed and tried to grab hold of the man but his hands passed through him and then he was gone.  Jake was once again alone in his room, with a sore throat, a headache that was just forming behind his left temple, and no idea what in the world was happening to him.

He turned to look at the bookcase and his mouth fell open.  He didn’t recognize any of the books.  Gone were his classics and his spy adventures, his comics and his fantasy series.  In their place was a whole slew of spines he didn’t recognize.  The books, now that he was looking at them, seemed to pulse with darkness. 

“Everything I need is here.”

With a shudder, Jake reached out and pulled one of the books off the shelf.

Fantasy Football Part 35

Hey everyone. I took a little break from writing over the past few weeks, but now I’m back. Matticus is too! Here is the newest installment of our Fantasy Football series! Hope it is worth the wait.

The air above him whipped around wildly as the enraged dragon thrashed about on her damaged wings. Plex dropped his bow and braced himself for what he knew was coming. Lavalandinarial let loose an eardrum shattering howl. Even with his hands covering his ears, he still felt the sting of the audible attack. Next to him, Frukeld’s hands were at his temples, meaning that the dragon was also forcing her screams into the minds of the people as well.

“Vermin!” Lavalandinarial yelled. “You will suffer for this outrage! Not only will I destroy you, I will destroy all that you hold dear.”

It seemed like the dragon was going to say more, but it was abruptly cut off as she dropped from the sky. Her injured wings could no longer support her weight. Plex felt his heart sink as he watched her fall to the ground, landing heavily on a number of buildings. From his vantage point, it looked like one of the buildings was a bakery, but the others appeared to be houses. He hoped that Frukeld and his resistance group were able to clear the people who lived there out. He didn’t want any innocent bystanders dying because of him.

Frukeld had recovered enough that he was no longer holding his head, but the dwarf was still having trouble hearing. Plex had asked him twice if they had, in fact, gotten the people out of those buildings. Both times, he was met by a questioning stare for an answer. That was when he heard a sound that sent a chill running down his spine. The dragon was laughing. He knew then that something very bad was about to happen.

“I hear you, elf,” Lavalandinarial purred. “You may have blinded me, for now, but my hearing is more acute than even the sharpest of your kind. By asking about the houses beneath me, you have told me your greatest weakness. You care about the people of this world, and that care will be your undoing.”

Plex picked up his bow and fired another arrow. The odds of it doing any real damage were slim. After all, a dragon’s wings and eyes were its two most vulnerable areas and they’d already hit those. Every other part of the beast’s anatomy were covered by thick scales. Even if he were to hit her, the arrow would likely bounce off. At most, it would slip in between the scales and she’d feel something akin to a mosquito bite to him.
The attack wasn’t meant to hurt the dragon, though. It was meant to attract her attention. He had the sickening feeling that he once again knew what was coming next. Sure enough, he was right again. While his arrow was in the air, Lavalandinarial spewed forth a gush of flames from her mouth. His arrow disappeared in the fire, not even leaving ash in its wake. Whipping her head side to side, the dragon laid waste to everything in front of her.

By the time she was done, everything in front of her was destroyed. Homes. Businesses. Warriors. Players. Everything and everything was gone. And the beast laughed again.

Plex fired another arrow, hoping to send the missile straight down the dragon’s throat.

She jerked her head to the side and exclaimed, “I told you my hearing was superior. I could hear you pulling the string back on your puny weapon, elf. I can hear the heart in your chest beating. I’m going to raze this city, reveling in your grief, and then I’m going to pluck that heart from your chest with one of my talons.”

Frukeld pulled on Plex’s arm and mimed something, pointing to the arrow Plex had already nocked, and then the dragon in the distance. It seemed like Frukeld wanted Plex to fire again but the elf couldn’t see the point. Frukeld repeated the motion with emphasis and urgency.

Shrugging, Plex pulled back the bowstring and took aim. He was going to shout at the dragon again but he saw from the corner of his eyes that Frukeld had begun to cast a spell. Plex suddenly understood the dwarf’s plan. He was going to enchant the arrow so it flew silently. Maybe enchant the bowstring as well? Plex didn’t know and it didn’t matter. He needed Lavandinarial to open her maw again.

“Hey worm,” Plex yelled.

“I heard you pull back your bowstring again elf. I also hear the men on the ground trying to launch some sort of assault on me. Did you think I’d miss them if you distracted me? Do you really think they can hurt me at all?
Go on, send them in. When they are within striking distance I’ll incinerate them as well. I’ll enjoy it too. Maybe I’ll let a few through unscathed. All this chatting has made me hungry. I could go for a snack.”

Plex was sickened by her calm disregard for life. He assumed she was working on something else devastating as well, perhaps a spell or something other attack. Perhaps she was healing herself while they wasted time. He almost loosed the arrow then, thinking it might break her concentration enough to ruin whatever she was scheming but Plex held his own calm and waited for the dwarf to finish.

“You’ve gotten careless, worm. Your pride blinded you long before my arrows took your eyes. You can hear my heart? Do you hear the truth in it? Your rule is done.”

Lavalandinarial began to laugh again. It started as a chittering noise that grated on Plex’s nerves and then became an open throated howl of derision. The elf marveled at how mad she must truly be to take such pleasure in her isolating rule of destruction and devastation. She didn’t care who had to die for her to remain in power. She would burn the whole world if she wasn’t stopped.
Frukeld’s eyes opened and stared insensely at Plex. The time had come.
Plex gauged the distance one more time, guessed how and where the dragon would move and let the string go. The arrow sailed silently across the distance, arcing towards the beast’s still open, still laughing mouth.

It flew true and stuck in the dragon’s tongue. The laughter stopped and was replaced by a screech of anger.
Lavalandinarial began thrashing around and digging at the inside of her mouth. She quickly pulled her hand away, shaking it as if in pain. Her screeching became muffled. Her eyes opened wide in terror. Plex looked on in confusion, wondering what was going on because it was too dark to see clearly. One of the beast’s thrashes moved its head into the light given off by the fires she had just started. He saw why she was reacting that way.

The dragon’s mouth was filled entirely with ice. It was as if she had tried to swallow an iceberg that was too big to go down her throat. Plex turned back to Frukeld in disbelief. “Fireballs are nice, but they don’t do much good against a dragon who breathes flames,” the old dwarf explained. “Iceballs, on the other hand, do just fine against them.”

Plex still couldn’t wrap his mind around what he was seeing. Someone smacked the back of his head, knocking him back to reality. Gilania stood behind him, pointing at Lavalandinarial. “Do something while she’s still preoccupied!”

He was about to argue that the ice ball would choke for them when his keen ears detected a strange noise. His eyes shot back up to the dragon’s mouth and he saw where the noise was coming from. It was the sound of water dripping out from between the beast’s teeth. The fire in the dragon’s throat was starting to melt the magical ice. Gilania was right. He needed to do something, and quick. But what?

“Do you have any more enchanted arrows?” Plex asked.

“No,” Frukeld replied dejectedly. “And I don’t think I have time to cast another spell on one before she gets free of the ice.”

“I need something that can hurt her. Nothing I have will do any real damage to her.”

The old dwarf shook his head. “One of our people was carrying a magical spear that we had made just for you, but I fear he died in the dragon’s breath.”

“You said it was magical, right?” Gilania interrupted. “Then there’s a chance that it survived the fire.”

“There’s a chance,” Frukeld conceded, “but if you go looking for it, she’ll hear you.”

“We’re elves,” Gilania scoffed.

“Moving silently is what we do,” Plex finished for her.

“The man who carried the weapon was on the edge of the dragon’s breath, directly ahead, the last time I saw him.”

“Got it.”

Plex turned to leave, but felt the dwarf’s strong grip on his arm and stopped. “It won’t look like a spear,” Frukeld explained. “It will act like a spear, but it won’t look like one.”

“What does it look like, then?”

The old dwarf opened his mouth with a wide smile. “What else do you think we’d make it look like?” Frukeld chuckled. “It looks like a football, of course.”

Fantasy Football Part 31

Here it is everyone! The next installment of Matticus and I’s story, Fantasy Football is out. We hope you’re all as excited to read it as we were to write it. So, without further ado…

They waited until they no longer heard any more Honor Guards walking around. There may have been some more sneaking about, but they didn’t have time for caution. Plex had to get into the practice facility to find his sister. Without another thought, he nimbly dropped down from the roof he was hiding on and took off running.

He made it a few blocks before he heard the first call of alarm. Turning to look behind him, he saw that Baclem was still with him. Beyond Baclem, a few of the dragon’s people were on their tails. Not many, just yet, but he knew more were coming. Plex just hoped that he didn’t find the way completely blocked when he got there. If there was even the tiniest of openings, he had a chance.

His lungs burned from exertion. His legs started feeling weak. It had been a very long day and he didn’t have much energy left. Plex knew he couldn’t stop. Stopping meant his death, and his sister’s, at Lavalandinarial’s hands. That wasn’t an option. He began pulling from reserves that he didn’t know he had. As far as he was concerned, nothing was going to get in his way.

But then he came within sight of the facility, and he saw the number of guards between them and the entrance. His heart dropped. There were dozens. He had no chance of getting past all of them. Not with only him and Baclem. It was impossible.

Still, he kept going.

Baclem shouted for him to stop. Plex never slowed. He raised his sword out in front of him like it was a jouster’s lance, screamed at the top of his lungs, and awaited the impact he’d get from running into the closest Honor Guard, an orc. Ten paces separated him and the orc. Then five. Plex positioned his blade for a killing strike.

Suddenly, the orc vanished. When he came upon where the orc was, he tripped.
Plex landed hard on the ground. What little breath he had was knocked from his chest. The sword fell from his hand and rattled across the cobblestones away from him. He crawled forward trying to reach it. A glance back showed him what he had tripped over. It was the orc, who lay dead with an arrow sticking out of its eye. His gaze went to Baclem, who was looking at the rooftops behind them.
The entire area around him erupted into screams and shouted orders. A hailstorm of arrows rained down among the Honor Guard. Two other guards fell down beside him. Plex rolled out of the way of the falling bodies and focused his vision on the rooftops where Baclem had been looking. His heart, which had dropped moments ago, was lifted back up.
The elven queen, along with a handful of her best archers, stood there loosing arrows among the Honor Guard. She saw him looking at her and she smiled. “Go get them,” she cried out to him.

Plex scrambled to his feet and ran into the opening his queen just made for him. He scooped up the sword he’d dropped and then left the chaos behind him as he entered the dark hallways of the training facility.
All chance for a quiet start to their revolution had just vanished, in a hail of arrows. Plex didn’t know how his Queen had gotten word of the situation or if her saving him was in the best interest of that revolution but he was thankful for the chance to find out. He needed to find his sister and save her and as much of her team as he could first. Then he’d deal with the fall out.

It would be great, he knew that. Lavalandindarial would be furious. Her wrath would be swift and far reaching. A thought caught in his mind and nearly made him stumble. His life had just been saved, true, but the cost would be the death of countless others.

Plex clenched his fists, steadied his feet, and carried on. “I’ll make it worthwhile.”

The sound of thundering feet made Plex glance behind him. He knew what he’d see but he still smiled when he saw Baclem struggling to catch up.
Plex slowed enough to let the troll get beside him and then together they raced through the hallways of the facility, checking behind open and closed doors alike, looking for any sign of Gilania’s team. There was none, though. Every room and hallways was empty.

Finally, they came upon the doorway that led to the practice field. Plex’s elven hearing picked up the sound of whispers and the slight movement that came with shifting weights from one foot to the other. There was a lot of too. He guessed, before opening the door, that everyone had been rounded up and moved out to the field.

Plex put his hand on the door, motioned for Baclem to be ready for a fight, and then whistled for his sister. He no longer doubted that she’d be able to hear him. She had heard him before. She would hear him now, especially since she’d be listening for the call. Then Plex took three deep, calming breaths, looked again to Baclem to make sure the troll was ready and shoved the door open.
He moved to the side of the door after pushing it and was rewarded for his caution as three arrows screamed through the space he’d have been in if he’d followed the flow of the door. He hoped that the equipment he’d hidden behind was still where it had been and then rolled through the doorway, his eyes sweeping the field as he did so.

The team was there, surrounded by a handful of guards. There were far fewer of them then had been outside and none of them had been armed with bows. Lavalandinarial’s Honor Guards must have thought they’d capture any attempted rescuers outside before they could get this far.

That was good.

A moment later, Plex was safely behind the stacked equipment that was where he’d remembered it being. That was also good. A glance back to the door showed that Baclem hadn’t followed. Plex wasn’t sure if that was good or bad but decided the troll had proved himself self-sufficient already this evening more than once.

Calling over his shoulder to the team on the field, Plex said, “Fight! Fight for your lives. They are planning on taking you before the dragon and if they do that you will all surely die.”

Without waiting for any kind of response, Plex hurled himself out from behind his momentary protection. His sword was raised and he was screaming a war cry. He met the first Honor Guard head on. Their blades locked. Plex stepped back and launched into a combination stroke that started off coming in from the side, then changing to go down at the knees.

The troll he was fighting was good. A lot better than the Honor Guards they’d come across so far. It blocked the side swipe and backed up in time to dodge the attack aimed at its knees. Plex came on in a fury, going into attack after attack, hoping to overwhelm the troll with his speed. At first, it didn’t look like it would work. The troll kept pace with him. Then, to Plex’s great relief, he managed to sneak his blade through the troll’s defenses to cut a line across the left side of its face. As it reacted to the cut, Plex finished it off by neatly cutting through the front half of its throat.

He turned around and found a second Honor Guard waiting for him. This time, it was a fellow elf. Plex inwardly cursed. It was highly unlikely that the tactics he used against the troll would work against an elf. The other elf was probably just as quick as Plex was. While he made a few rudimentary attacks to gauge his opponent, he tried to think of a way to end this fight quickly. “You don’t have to fight me,” he said, hoping to reason with the elf.

“The dragon commands,” a distinctly female voice hissed, “so it shall be done.”

Plex found himself caught off guard by the femininity in the angry voice. He didn’t know why. There were females of every race in Lavalandinarial’s Honor Guard. He was also well aware that females could be just as deadly in combat as males, if not more. Why did this shake him so? Maybe he just thought that he would never hear a female elf so vehemently defending the dragon. No matter the reason, he needed to get his head back into the fight. She had used his hesitation to draw blood with a small cut on his shoulder.

This is why I prefer my bow, he thought to himself as he got back into the proper defensive position. “Why should we listen to the dragon?” Plex asked. “All she does is create pain and suffering.”

“Strength should be followed and she is the strongest.”

Plex sidestepped another attack, but made no move to attack her in response. “Crazy shouldn’t be followed, and she is the craziest.”

“Lavalandinarial’s will must be followed.”

“Even if it means killing your own kind? Your friends? Your family?”

The angry facade slipped for a moment and Plex knew he’d hit upon something. “She’s already made you do it, hasn’t she?” he deduced. “She made you kill someone you love. Who was it? A parent? A sibling?”

“It doesn’t matter now,” she said in a tone that was as angry as it was sad. “You can’t win here. You’re not facing her raw recruits anymore. You’re facing her seasoned veterans. She’s accomplished her goal.”
Before he could ask what that meant, the sounds of fighting from outside the facility became louder than those inside the facility. He knew what the female elf was talking about now. Lavalandinarial had used her worst fighters to give him and the rest of the rebels the confidence to come out of the shadows. She had baited them.
And Plex had put a lot of people in danger because he fell for it.

Fantasy Football Part 27

Hey everyone! Hope you’re all doing well in these crazy times. Want something to break up the monotony of quarantine life? How about a new chapter of the blog hopping story by Matticus and I?

An image of a spear piercing his chest flashed through Plex’s mind. There was no way he could dodge both attacks. He was reasonably sure he could avoid the spear of one of the two Honor Guards, but not both. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try. If he was going to die at the hands of Lavalandinarial’s people, he was determined to make them work for it.

With a firm grip on the sword he took off the guard he had killed, Plex whipped the weapon out in front of his chest while taking a step back. The step wouldn’t take him out of their range, but it might buy him just enough time to block an attack. Both guards, elf and dwarf, launched their spears at him. He put the sword in line to parry one of them and turned so that he gave them as little area of his body to hit as possible. Plex braced for impact, but before one came, a large blur passed in front of his eyes. A grunt came from the blur, followed by a crashing to the ground.

When the blur became visible, Plex almost dropped to the ground next to it. It was Glavven. The large minotaur had taken both of the spears meant for him. One protruded from Glavven’s shoulder and the other was sticking out of the minotaur’s hip. Plex fought the urge to check on his savior, but he knew that two opponents were still out there. If he didn’t give them his full attention, he would be their next kill.

Their spears spent, the two Honor Guards moved to draw their swords. Plex rushed forward and plunged his blade through the elf’s throat before the guard could unsheath his weapon. He felt a momentary pang of guilt over killing another of his kind, but he brushed it aside just as quickly as it came. Anyone who chose to side with the dragon was his enemy, no matter which race they were.

Plex yanked on the hilt of his sword, but it didn’t come all the way out. His eyes moved over to the dwarf, who had his sword raised and it was just beginning its downward swing. One more tug, fueled by desperation, got his weapon free. Plex tried to leap backwards, out of the way of the attack, but he wasn’t quick enough. The dwarf’s blade dug into his left arm just above his elbow. He howled in pain as he struck out at his opponent.

Despite the pain taking away his focus, his instincts put his sword right where it needed to be. It hit the dwarf lengthways across the bridge of his nose, taking out both of the dwarf’s eyes in the process. Plex kicked his injured opponent backwards, causing a new wave of pain as the dwarf’s sword pulled out of his wound. He pushed aside the agony long enough to deliver a killing blow to the dwarf. With that taken care of, he looked around to see how the rest of the fight was playing out.

The dark street was littered with bodies. Most of those on the ground appeared to be wearing honor guard uniforms but, sadly, not all. One or two of his teammates lay dead. A fury rose within Plex and he looked for another guard to unleash it upon. The minions of the beast would suffer for the hurt they had caused in her name.
Plex took a step forward, intent up on helping one of his teammates just a short distance away, and nearly tripped over Glavven. The minotaur grunted as Plex’s foot struck him and the elf did a half stuttering jump to stop himself from causing further harm and to keep to his feet. Then Plex dropped down next to Glavven to see how he could help.

The two spears were still jutting from where they had struck him. Plex could see that Glavven was still conscious, his eyes burned with anger and his snout was clamped shut tightly. Trying to keep from crying out in pain, Plex assumed.

“Thank you, my friend,” Plex muttered. He wasn’t sure if the minotaur considered him a friend, wasn’t even sure if it was within their nature to have friends even within their own race, let alone with elves. But, the Glavven had saved his life and so Plex would consider him as such and be forever in his debt.

He began to check the wound sites to see if he could remove the spears without causing further damage and then noticed the large amount of blood seeping from the wound in his own arm. He studied it for a second, slightly confused, and then abruptly fell into a sitting position while his vision began to sink.

“I’m going into shock,” he said aloud and then sort of chuckled that he would waste breath saying something like that. Almost absentmindedly, Plex used his opposite hand to begin applying pressure to his wound. He needed to stop the blood loss before he blacked out.

“It’s okay,” a voice said calmly next to him.

Plex looked up to see one of the team’s healers and immediately said, “See to Glavven first.”

The healer smiled comfortingly and took Plex’s arm within his hands. Plex tried to withdraw his arm, to insist they heal the minotaur first but found he didn’t have the strength. The healer held him firmly.

“Help Glavven,” Plex managed, though his words tasted funny in his mouth and seemed to stick to his tongue. He shook his head trying to clear them and tried again but could only manage, “Glavven” before his mouth refused to work at all.

The healer, still smiling, said, “You are very noble but you have lost far too much blood. While in considerable pain, no doubt, Glavven’s wounds are not mortal. Your wound is. Relax and let me work. It will be easier on both of us.”

While not familiar with this healer, Plex was familiar with the process. He forced his body to relax. It was hard. He could still hear the sounds of battle nearby, his vision continued to narrow until he could only see through tiny pinpricks of a tunnel, and a sudden dizziness gripped him. He pushed that all aside as best he could and focused on his breathing.
The next thing he knew, the wound in his arm raged as if were on fire. It was enough to make him cry out a series of elven curses. He felt himself slipping towards unconsciousness. Plex knew that he couldn’t let that happen. Deep inside, he harvested every bit of willpower to keep from fading away into the blackness that was threatening him.

To his relief, the pain didn’t last very long. It was soon replaced by a tingling sensation like when his arm fell asleep. Plex wanted to open his eyes to see what the wound looked like now, but he knew he needed to keep them closed. If the cut was still bleeding, seeing it may make him lose his resolve. It was imperative to keep his focus until the healing process was completed.

“Wake up,” a gruff voice said.
Plex nearly jumped. He must have dozed off. It probably wasn’t the first time someone had done that while being healed. Once the tingling wore off, all that was left was a warmth that spread throughout his entire body. It was very relaxing after the pain wore off.

His eyes opened expecting to see Glavven match the gruff voice. He was surprised to see a different teammate standing over him. It was the troll, Baclem, his wide receiver. While it wasn’t who he was expecting, it was still good to see a familiar face. If it was someone he didn’t know, that likely would have meant that they had lost the fight.

“How long was I out?” Plex asked the troll.

“Long enough for more guards to be closing in on this position,” Baclem answered matter of factly. “We’ve got to get going.”

The troll pointed off to his right. He turned and saw Vinyard directing the rest of his teammates down an alley. Just then, the sounds of metal clanking reached his ears. People wearing armor would be there soon. He briefly wondered how the troll knew that before he could hear them. Did trolls possess better hearing than elves? Or did Vinyard tell them?

It would have to remain a mystery for the time being. Plex pushed himself up off the ground. The wound on his arm was sore, but it was no longer bleeding and the cut had healed shut. Still, it protested a little when he used it to get up. He moved it around as he ran to where the gnome was standing. It was good enough that he’d be able to use it if they needed to fight again.

With that in mind, he scooped up a sword right before he reached Vinyard. He was going to ask the gnome a question, but it got cut off before the words left his lips. “No time,” Vinyard said, shaking his head. “Just follow the rest of them.”

Plex did as instructed and ran along with the rest of the group. He caught up with them quickly. When he did, he noticed that there was something wrong. “Wait,” he said out loud. “Where’s Glavven?”

“He didn’t make it,” Baclem, who was running beside him, replied.

“What?” Plex asked in defeat, almost coming to a complete stop.

Baclem grabbed Plex’s wrist and began pulling him along. “Glavven had a wound on his back that the healers missed on their first inspection. It was pretty bad. That wound is probably why he jumped in front of those spears for you.” The troll paused, but Plex wasn’t sure if it was for dramatic effect or if he was out of breath. “I’m sorry,” Baclem continued, “but Glavven died before the healers were done with you.”

Fantasy Football Part 25

“Just a couple more drills and then we’re done,” Plex heard a coach yell. “I know you’re all tired, but we need to be ready in case our next game ends up coming sooner than we expected.”

Plex and Vinyard followed the sound of the voice until they came upon the field. The two of them ducked down behind stacks of equipment while Plex looked around for his sister. It took him a few moments, but he eventually saw her on the other side of the field. He cursed under his breath. While it wouldn’t be impossible to move over to where she was without being seen, it was pretty close. There weren’t many places to take cover. Plus, there was always a chance that one of her teammates would inadvertently see him without even trying.

After taking a deep breath in, Plex let out a series of whistles. To members of the other races, it would sound like nothing more than a bird singing. To another elf, however, it was a series of signals. The particular cadence he used was one that was known only to the two of them. They had come up with it as children as a way of warning each other when they were about to get in trouble with their parents.

A few of the other elves on her team looked around when they heard it, but they quickly went back to what they were doing. Gilania had no reaction to his whistles. She hadn’t heard him. He was too far away and there was too much noise going on around her for Gilania to pick it up. Plex shook his head in frustration. How was he going to get her attention now?

He felt a poking at his side and found Vinyard next to him with a handful of small pebbles. Before he could ask what he was supposed to do with them, the gnome made a throwing motion. Plex looked at him in disbelief. The pebbles had almost no weight to them, so they probably wouldn’t fly all the way to where Gilania was. Even if they did, he wasn’t likely to be accurate with his throw because of how far he had to throw it. Any time you put extra strength into a throw, you sacrificed accuracy for it.

Plex was going to try to explain all of that to the gnome, but shook his head instead. He didn’t have a better idea. It was at least worth a try. At worst, he’d end up hitting one of her teammates by accident, but he was confident that he could hide before the teammate went looking for who had thrown the pebble. After shrugging his shoulders, Plex took a step out of concealment and let heave.

As he was afraid of, the pebble went nowhere near where he was aiming. Luckily, it landed on a part of the field not being used at the moment. Or, at least, he thought it did. Elves generally had better vision than the other races and even Plex had a hard time following the small pebble in the night sky. There were magic lights surrounding the field, but they mostly focused on the players and the ball. Anything other than that was spotty, at best.

Undeterred, Plex let fly again, this time adjusting his aim after what he’d seen on his first throw. The stone sailed true and pinged off the shoulder pad of his sister. He saw her flinch but otherwise ignore the tiny missile. She didn’t stop what she was doing. She didn’t look around. If she hadn’t flinched, Plex would have thought she didn’t even feel it.
Frustrated Plex ducked back behind concealment with Vinyard. He couldn’t stand out in the open and continue to pelt her with rocks. She was obviously too focused at the moment to be distracted.

Vinyard whispered harshly, “You give up too easily.”

“A lost cause is a lost cause and it is better to quit early than waste time,” Plex responded in his own harsh whisper. Then an idea occurred to him and he said, “Let’s find a better place to hide. We can single her out later after practice.”

Vinyard frowned and showed no sign that he was willing to following Plex’s lead. Then his head turned as the play on the field stopped for a second. Plex turned as well a moment later when his sister’s voice carried over to where they were hiding.

“I need a break coach. I’m going to go stretch and I’ll be right back.”

The sound of jogging feet drew nearer and then Giliana was on top of them. She couldn’t miss them and yet she acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Then she dropped to the ground and began to stretch. In little more than a whisper she said, “I heard your whistle. There was no need to throw rocks at me. You are a fool for interrupting our practice. What in the world are you doing here?”

“We need to talk,” Plex responded.

“Then talk. You’ve got two minutes while I stretch. At most.”

Not wanting to waste the time she had bought them, he said, “We need your help. A revolution is coming, an uprising against the dragon, and we need the best warriors on our side to overthrow the beast. Vinyard,” Plex indicated the gnome at his side,” and I need an audience with anyone on your team you think might want to join our fight.”

“We won,” Giliana said flatly. Plex could tell that she was masking the emotions she was really feeling. He could pick up the subtle difference only because they were siblings. “Why would we want to jeapordize that? Why would anyone on this team want to risk what they have already achieved.”

“For those on the other teams who won’t win. For their families. For their people. For all the people who are forced to live under her rule. For the possibility that we can regain our own destinies and no longer suffer her whims. For all these things and more specifically for you because I know you want to help.”

She never looked to Plex while he spoke and once he was done, she stood up and said, “You assume too much.” Then she took two steps away before stopping and turning around again, twisting at her wasit to bend down to have her right hand touch the ground in front of her left foot. “Still…,” she started before going silent again. Plex could tell she was deep in thought.

Gilania’s voice softened, “Did you really think that I wouldn’t notice you doing badly on purpose during the game?”

“I didn’t care if you noticed,” Plex responded honestly. “I was just hoping that the dragon didn’t notice.”

“Why would you do something as stupid as that?”

“At the time, it didn’t seem that stupid. I thought that we were going to keep running up the score and I couldn’t do that. I had to make sure that the game was close. I couldn’t put you in harm’s way.”

Gilania scoffed. “By putting yourself in harm’s way?”

“You’re my sister,” Plex said. “There’s no harm I wouldn’t risk to keep you safe.”

A small smile worked its way onto her face as she shifted stretching positions once again. “You know, it makes me want to punch you when you get all mushy like that.” She paused before adding, “I can’t promise you anything, but I’ll try to get some of my teammates over here later, when the moon reaches its zenith. Now, get out of here before you get spotted.”

Plex had more to say, but his sister began walking away before he could speak. He thought about trying to stop her, but he felt a tugging at his arm. Looking back, he saw Vinyard motioning for them to leave. Once they were safely back out on the street, he asked the gnome, “What? Why did we have to leave?”

“You mean besides the obvious answer of us lessening the chances of being spotted?” Vinyard responded sarcastically. “We need to get back to our facility and make sure we’re seen when we do. If most of our team sees us in the facility, they won’t be able to tell the Honor Guard that we weren’t around all night.”

“But won’t they be mad at me for leaving before the game was over? There’s probably more than one of them who will blame my absence for the loss.”

The sarcasm immediately left Vinyard’s voice. “That’s a good point. A lot of those players were looking to use that game to improve their standing, not only in the eyes of the dragon, but also their own race. Maybe you shouldn’t be seen there.” After a brief pause, the gnome continued, “But I have to be seen. I have too much to do before my involvement becomes known.”

“Like what?”

Vinyard ignored him. The gnome had a strange look on his face. The words to ask what was wrong didn’t even make it to his lips when Vinyard asked a question of his own. “Do you smell that?”

“What?”

“Sniff the air!”

The force behind the diminutive gnome’s command startled him for a moment, but Plex did as he was told. At first, he didn’t detect anything out of the ordinary. The only thing that was slightly odd was that the was a stronger than normal smell of…

“Smoke!”

Plex looked into the air to see if he could determine where it was coming from. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but it appeared to be coming from their practice facility.

Fantasy Football Part 21

Hey everyone. That dastardly thing known as “real life” has bombarded both Matt and I with its evil, preventing us from working on this story as much as we’d like to. We have, however, finished with this installment and are ready to share it with all of our wonderful readers. We hope you enjoy it!

—– —– —– —–

Plex followed the dwarf to the end of the alleyway. Another dwarf stepped out of the shadows. The new dwarf waggled his fingers in Plex’s direction and mumbled some words under his breath. After a moment of this, Plex’s skin began to give off a faint pinkish glow. Before he could ask what was happening, the glow disappeared.

“Follow us,” the two dwarves said in unison.

He wanted to stop and demand to know what had just happened, but he knew that it would do more harm than good at that point. Not only would it give the dwarves an excuse to leave him behind, but it also increased the chances of someone spotting them. If one of the Honor Guard saw him huddled in a dark alley with a couple of dwarves, it would probably be the death of all three of them. Reluctantly, he silently trod after them.

The duo of dwarves ducked into the cellar door of the house at the end of the alley. Once he made it to the bottom of the stairs, he was led to a wall on the opposite side of the cellar. The dwarf who had used magic before recited another spell. A section of the wall in front of them swung in, revealing a long, narrow hallway. Without thinking, Plex followed them past the doorway and further into the unknown. It wasn’t until he heard the wall close up behind him that he questioned whether it was smart to continue chasing after these dwarves.

After all, he thought to himself, it was entirely possible that these were members of Lavalandinarial’s Honor Guard that he was walking behind. There were certainly magic users who weren’t controlled by the dragon, but the majority of them, whether willingly or not, worked for her. This could all just be a trap, an easy way to make him disappear, and his anger at Lavalandinarial had made him walk right into it.

Had she counted on that? Had she set this all up knowing that he would be so blinded by rage that he’d walk straight into the obvious trap?

“Hurry up!”

It wasn’t until the dwarf gruffly barked at him that he realized that his steps had slowed while his thoughts were bouncing crazily in his mind. Plex quickened his pace. If this was a trap, he was already too far into it to go back now. He had to see this through, no matter how it played out. Besides, it was almost a certainty that the dragon was going to kill him. If this wasn’t a trap, it was the only chance he had at escaping death.

The hallway finally ended at another wall. While the wizard dwarf spoke more words of magic, Plex took the time to take in his surroundings. The first thing he noticed is that the hallway was perfectly lit. That wouldn’t normally be something that people would question, but he didn’t see any torches or magical lanterns. Somehow the hallway was perfectly lit for no apparent reason. It unnerved him, but he couldn’t figure out why.

A scraping sound announced the opening of the wall. The dwarf who had originally spoken to him stepped aside and motioned for Plex to enter the room. “Frukeld is waiting for you,” he said.

A flicker of a memory flew across Plex’s mind. He had heard that name somewhere before. He couldn’t immediately place it, though, and didn’t have time to dwell on it. The dwarves flanking the opening did not look to be in the mood to give him time to second guess his presence. He couldn’t blame them. If they were planning something against the dragon, they were risking as much trusting him as he was trusting them.

Stepping through the opening in the wall, Plex was once again put off guard by the perfect light that seemed to come from nowhere. It had to be an enchantment but, if so, it was one he had never encountered before. This Frukeld, or those who worked for him, had unlocked sorcery that the greatest elves had not.

“Thank you for coming.”

The greeting was spoken by a very old dwarf. Not only did Frukeld’s beard touch the floor, even though it was tucked into the belt circling his wide belly, but the dwarf’s elongated eyebrows came close to doing the same. Wrinkles rolled through the few empty spaces where his face wasn’t covered in hair. And white tufts sprang from his ears. Plex was sure he had never been in the presence of someone older. He bowed low, for that alone, in a show of respect.

As he stood back up, Plex asked, “Why am I here?”

“Better with us than in the beast’s belly.”

The comment was made seriously but mischief sparkled behind the dwarf’s eyes and that set Plex at ease. He was among friends even if he wasn’t sure why he was there.

Chuckling briefly, Plex replied, “Any place is better than that monster’s gut. So that isn’t saying much. Yet, I feel like you think I can help you out with something and that will somehow help me out of the predicament my anger put me in.”

“Yes, exactly,” Frukeld said. “Exactly.”

“So what can I do for you?”

Frukeld smiled and his wrinkles thinned out, making the dwarf suddenly seem much younger. “We were you today. You are a leader. That alone made us take notice of you but then you showed that you didn’t appreciate Lavalandinarial interfering in the game and, most interesting of all, you were able to fight off her magic.”

“And if I ever dare to stand up to her again, we both know what will happen.”

Laughing, his beard and wrinkles bouncing wildly, Frukeld said, “We aren’t asking you to take up a lance and charge straight at her. No, that would truly be a waste. But we do need help organizing those of us who might be willing to do just that, or a version of charging at her that would be more successful.

“Your natural charisma and your leadership qualities will serve us well in that regard. Your defiance will inspire many who were already on the fence about the beast and that inspiration will lead towards loyalty.”

“I’m not a fighter,” Plex interjected.

“We aren’t asking you to be one. Though, in truth, I suspect you are one whether you think you are or not.”

Plex wasn’t sure whether or not to take that as a compliment. In his experience, nothing good had ever come from fighting. Every battle, every fight, he’d been in, or seen, had done nothing more than lead to unnecessary bloodshed and death. There was no good reason for it, and the gain never came close to being worth the cost.

Then again, every fight he’d been close to had been either at the dragon’s command, or because the contestants wanted to move up in the dragon’s hierarchy. Perhaps being a fighter against the dragon would be a good thing.

“I’ve been in my share of fights,” Plex admitted, “but I’m no warrior. I’m no great strategist, either. Not on the battlefield, anyway. The only time I excel in that type of thinking is on the football field.”

“A battlefield and a football field are more similar than most people think. That’s a discussion for another time, though. As I said before, we’re not asking you to be a fighter. Not yet, at least. We’re not asking you to lead our troupe into battle either. Right now, what we’re asking of you is to be our recruiter.”

“Your recruiter?”

“We have a number of magic users among us. We don’t have the magical firepower to take on the dragon yet, but we hope to soon. What we don’t have, are many able warriors. That’s because most of the best warriors of each race are on one of the football teams. We think this is done purposefully, to keep them occupied so that they don’t rise up against Lavalandinarial.”

“I don’t think so. After watching them, I think it’s just because they’re the best players..”

“Perhaps. Or it could be a combination of the two. Regardless, while having magic users is crucial to taking down the dragon, so is having capable fighters on our side. We’d like to get close to them, to try to sway them to our cause, but we can’t get close enough to them. Lavalandinarial has increased the security, both physical and magical, around the sites that house the football teams. If we tried to infiltrate those sites, all we’d probably accomplish is announcing our presence to the dragon. You, on the other hand, can get close to them.”

Plex laughed. “I can get close to my own team, but there’s no way I’d get close to any of the other teams. They’d never let an opposing player in their facilities. They’d be too worried about me seeing their plays and formations. It’d be impossible for a player to get into another team’s facilities.”

“No, it’s not.”

Plex jumped. It wasn’t Frukeld who had said that. His eyes darted back and forth, searching for the source of the new voice. It was familiar to him. He knew he’d heard it before, but he couldn’t place it.

From behind the old dwarf, a figure stepped out. Now, Plex knew why the voice sounded familiar. It belonged to someone he recognized. He briefly wondered how he hadn’t seen him before, but he’d been victim to this person’s sneaky tactics before.

It was Vinyard, his team’s gnomish punter.