A shortie Story pt 1

open journals

The following little character profile was from a short contest on one of my Role Play game sites. We were to have our characters talk about what made them who they are today…their childhood and the like. This first one is Genesis, a werewolf. We were allowed to tell their story in any format, from journal to interview with another personal, to video type diaries. I chose journal format for Genesis.
And away we go!

Genesis: All American Girl

Journal Entry 2/2017

2017 already. Hard to believe how time seems to fly in happy times, and drag in the dreadful. This is a brand new journal, by the way. I haven’t kept a journal in a few years now. Growing up I kept one religiously.

I was reading through some of them earlier, that’s what made me decide to pick it back up again. I don’t want memories to be lost, even the uglier side of life.

When looking through my really old journals, I found one that brought back all kinds of depressing memories. Most entries were about my mother. She was a slut. Okay, well, more like a wh0re, because those guys she brought home paid her in some fashion or another. I usually just locked my door and shoved pillows over my head. I have to add that I added locks to my bedroom doors in all the scummy trailers we rented when we moved here, or were kicked out of there. Those men my mom brought home…they leered at me. Perverts. All of them.

I kept myself distracted, and away from home, as much as I could. I ran track in secondary school and high school. I was honor roll, which meant I stayed in the library a lot, studying.

Sometimes when I would come home, my mother would be waiting. She’d call me names, accuse me of things, tell me how she should have aborted me when she had the chance. I should point out here, that the reason she DIDN’T abort me, is that my father was some kind of royalty in the Lycan community. My mother is pure Lycan as well. She must have figured giving this man a full blood heir, even though I’m a girl, well, she must have thought he would support her, or me. Instead, he told her to kill me, that I was a bastard pup, and never contact him again.

All American family, right?

I isolated myself a lot growing up. We moved so often, I never felt any point in making friends. I stuck to my studies. In my senior year of high school a Marine Corp recruiter contacted me. I signed right up. The day after graduation, with honors btw, I was out of there. I left my mom a couple hundred dollars that I’d saved up with a note that I was leaving, and never look for me. I was as dead to her as she was to me.

I thrived in the Marine Corp. Maybe I had an unfair advantage, being a Lycan and all, but still. I loved it. And they had found their perfect marksman. Problem was, females couldn’t really be on over-watch. I served two tours in Afghanistan, and then came back to the states. I served on the Marksmanship Team and got all kinds of awards.

By the time I made E-5 serving as an MP, people were taking notice that I wasn’t really aging. It was odd to me, because my mother looked way older than she was. I guess I should just attribute that to the lifestyle of booze and drugs she led, whereas I was all about discipline, wellness, taking care of myself.

I had a group of good friends when I was in the military. I still keep in touch with some. Some even know my secret (that I’m not…human). A group of us will meet up somewhere and have a few drinks, remember the days and nights in the desert, the thrill of live fire and explosions. However, not so many of us remember those as ‘good times’. A lot of people come back broken from war zones.

Again, I thrived in it.

Anyway, after I left the military, I traveled around. I guess I’m kind of a penny pincher, because I have plenty of money. I was bored though. I tried to think of what I could do as a career. That’s when, by chance, someone from the old military days, asked me if I could take someone out. As in, kill them. They offered me money (okay, A LOT of money), said they didn’t care how I did it, just get it done by a certain day and time and the money would be wired to me.

My first contract kill.

I took the target out from 5 buildings away. He was sitting at his desk having and drink, I pulled my little trigger and poof…red mist. The guy wobbled in his chair a little before falling face first into the desk. From my angle, well, he had no back of the head left. It gave me the warm fuzzies.

So…I started to take more clients like this. I set up overseas accounts for payments and got my name dropped here and there in all the right circles. Mercenaries get a bad wrap, but we do take out some pretty nasty people. And its not all just getting a name and killing people. Sometimes you have to hunt information, do a little tracking, grease the palms of other people. I had to get tech savvy in a hurry and start knowing and getting in good with all the right people.

I started to realize one night that while I was using my enhanced senses to pinpoint targets and the like, I wasn’t really working on those aspects of myself. The wolf in me needed more.

I was floundering in mediocrity. I couldn’t have that. The wolf must be satisfied.

I joined a crew at the urging of a friend and, well, at first things were fine and dandy, but they went downhill fast. Leadership and I didn’t agree, and me being me, blatantly said what was on my mind. I ended up leaving the crew.

I needed a pack, so to speak, to help me grow. So I didn’t waste any time in finding exactly what I needed. Azhi. Home. I have never regretted joining this crew.

I have friends, we talk. The loveliest part of it all, is I can still indulge in the hunt and make money, money, money. Yes, I’m a greedy cow.

Now, I love my home with all my heart. Only one bad occurrence ever happened here, and thats when I tried to kid myself into thinking I could have a love life. I met someone, he joined the crew and we got married. Probably the shortest marriage of all time. No…I’ve actually seen shorter.

One day, out of the blue, he packed all my stuff from our boat and placed it on the dock and handed me divorce papers. I was shocked to say the least. I didn’t know how to react. Was he expecting a big display of emotion? He didn’t get it. That’s not my style. I picked up my stuff, tucked the papers into my back pocket and walked away. He left. End of story. He’s still in the Azhi roster, but he’s been gone for years now.

I keep my heart closely guarded now. I have a crush on someone, but, well, that’s a pipe-dream I think.

The crew is growing and expanding and its exciting. Mind you, we all stick to ourselves, but, I bet at any given moment if I called someone for help, they would be there in a heartbeat, and I would do the same in return.

I can live in isolation, and I can integrate into a team just fine. I love both. It truly is the best of both worlds. It sates my desire for privacy, which I hold high, and it also gives me people to chill with, help, laugh with…its nice.

I’m a little rough around the edges. I’ve always been a tom-boy. I sometimes speak before thinking, or, rather, speak very bluntly. But hey, I give honesty, that’s got to count for something, right?

So, I’ve come a long way from those days of keeping my face planted in a book to avoid people, to having a home and friends. I’ve achieved a lot, too. Not so much in social skills, I still lack those, but my training is picking up again, I feel better about myself, and I know I can call people up from time to time for sh!ts and giggles.

Life is good.

Hope you enjoyed that! I will be posting up Addisons little bit in a day or two.

And for the record, Addisons won 2nd place and Genesis won 3rd. ^.~

November 2016 Day 30

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Final day of NaNoWriMo! WOOHOO…I made it! I beat the 50k word goal AND I haven’t finished my novel. I made too many changes, and they proved to be for the better, making for a heartier read when the book is done, edited and ready for print.

And todays final BlogHer prompt would tie in to that in a way.

However, let me say, that in all my years of adulting, and trying to avoid it, have I never been asked to choose a word for myself for the oncoming year. Resolutions….blah. I kind of like this word for myself for the year. It can encompass so many things in life.

So, for today’s Blogher prompt:
Nov. 30: Have you chosen a word of the year for yourself for 2017? What is it? If not, what words would you consider?

The first word that comes to mind for me is ‘determined’. Alternatively, determination. For 2017 I am determined to reach all those little goals I’ve set for myself, but simply put off in 2016.

Goals and projects.

I have quite a few projects that I have been shoving off to the back burner, such as releasing some of my adult literature/smutty romances. I have quite a few all ready for circulation. I just need cover art.

Getting my house in order. I mean, to the naked eye its fine, but my old office, which is the third bedroom, has been turned into a storage room. I recently purchased one of those big barn looking portable storage things. I am taking all that stored and boxed up stuff and moving it into the storage barn when it is delivered. Oh, I can’t wait until it’s delivered. Then I can once again have a guest bedroom, as my daughter took over the original guest room for herself.

New furniture. I want (don’t need) a new living room set. It’s not needed, as stated, I just want to rejuvenate the home.

Now, something I am need of to help alleviate further back problems is a new mattress and box spring. I already have what I want picked out. No more springs for me. A nice firm memory foam and gel type bed. Very pricey, but I think, after all the rave reviews my sister has given me about her own bed, that it will be worth it.

I am determined to meet my goals. Those goals demand discipline in several areas, such as time management and sticking to a good budget for savings and purchases.

After my back surgery, I am also determined to get back into the gym. Keep my back strong, tone up my legs, and strengthen my core.

To sum my word up for 2017…it would definitely be ‘determined’.

And there we have the end of NaBloPoMo 2016.

Hope you have all enjoyed it!

November 2016 Day 29

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Today is a slow moving day for me. Noon snuck on me before I even knew it. And I haven’t gotten a thing accomplished. Oh, well, other than the fact that I did a load of laundry yesterday and completely forgot about it – so now its being re-washed.

Nothing on the NaNo front as of yet, but my word counts keep flowing daily, some better than others. I am technically finished, having reached 50k last week, but the story isn’t finished, or the 30 days – and that’s my goal.

Now, on to todays BlogHer prompt:
Nov. 29: What was your most embarrassing or scary trip to the doctor?

It was about 6 years ago now, and my chest hurt really bad. It felt like I had taken a bite of a big dry sandwich and it was stuck in my esophagus. Burping didn’t help, drinking something didn’t help. It didn’t burn like heartburn.

So I got scared.

I went to the ER and come to find out, in all my fear, it was a form of heartburn – however – they ordered a Heart Cath to be done.

That was scary. Laying on the table as they insert a tube through your groin up through your body and to your heart with the possibility of having to put stents in.

Everything checked out fine though. My ticker is in good shape, despite me having COPD. So it was a relief in the end.

And that’s my story for this prompt. It was more on the scary side than embarrassing.

November 2016 Day 28

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It’s been a busy morning, and I have worked on my NaNo writing, but I’m not finished yet. However, my brains needed a break from the novel. So I took myself to Hobby Lobby and picked up a few things. Mainly some upholstery fabric for my office chair (I hate the leather feel, so I got a lovely quilted fabric) and some things needed for the project.

I have other things going on inside of this brain of mine. More story ideas. Mostly short stories. I’m jot the ideas down and that will give me something to toy with when the mood strikes.

So on to today’s BlogHer prompt:
Nov. 28: What was your most precious possession when you were a kid?

When I was little, I had this large stuffed animal. It was a lamb. I used it as a pillow, and kept it very safe in my room. Of course, her name was Lamb chop. I know, how original. Come on, I was like, four years old. However, I kept that same silly lamb all the way into my early teens until after many fix- ups and stitches the poor lamb needed that it just disintegrated. I have never seen another lamb quite like it. Not for the massive size it was. I don’t even know where my mom had gotten, because when you are four and presented with a lamb that’s as big as you are, you just don’t question it. You love and cuddle it.

Now, as an adult, I have…oddities. So many. I can’t pick a favorite. I rotate them out, sometimes buying more when something truly captivating catches my weird eye. Living Dead Dolls, homemade voodoo dolls from New Orleans, voodoo dolls I’ve made myself. Then there are my Walking Dead figures and my Pacific Rim Jaeger’s – Gypsy Danger being my favorite, of course. My skeletal animals. Candles galore. We won’t start on my coffee mug collection.

There is one constant in all my oddities that never leaves the edge of my desk however. That would be Edgar Allen Poe. He’s a rather tall figure, and off course, he’s a bobble head. At his feet is his ever-present raven. I give him a poke now and then and he kindly gives me a nod of approval.

The eccentricities go on and on…I have nearly a whole room full of boxes of stuff.

So there we have it!

Nov 2016 Day 27 (Special)

two-of-three
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Working on my NaNo word count this morning, but wanted to get this post up because I am super excited about it. I wrote this piece yesterday before reposting part one of it. I wrote it in about 10 minutes. Yes, when the inspiration strikes, you don’t question it – you just do it. You get those words out and on to the page and watch it all form into something you feel is wonderful.

I hope those of you who have taken a liking to part one of this story enjoy this second part.

Please read and feel free to comment! I included the link to the original post just for those who haven’t read part one.

Enjoy!!

https://niume.com/pages/post/?postID=141636  (original One of Three post)

Two of Three

It had been a few years since he killed the puppy. It was fascinating to him. Over the weeks since he had buried it, he had gone back, dug it up with his mother’s good spoon, and examined the remains. Repeatedly. Bugs started eating the animal. Then the fur and skin started falling off. It was really stinky and gross to handle.

Again, that had been a few years ago. He had killed more animals since. Lately, it just wasn’t as fun or as fascinating as it had been.

In that time, he had developed night terrors. He started wetting the bed. His ‘friends’ made fun of him. Really, they weren’t his friends. He hated them all, but their mums made them all play together. He always snuck off to do his own thing anyway.

This week was vacation week. The holidays. Autumn had things crisp and cool. It also had the little lizards and frogs starting to seek shelter from the cold.

Sometimes though, during the day, you could catch them sunning themselves on the smooth rocks to keep their body heat up. It was the prime time to catch them up. He killed some of them, of course. Digging around in their insides. He started saving some, too, however. They had a neat feel to them. Slick and smooth. They looked slimy, but they really weren’t.

This evening there was to be a bonfire and his spirits were flying high. He loved playing with fire. He’d set a few small ones. Nothing major, except for a small old tree house in the woods. It was exciting, but it seemed to be lacking something.

So now all his family were milling around this lovely big bonfire. They were all drinking their grown up drinks, hardly paying attention to anything but one another and their stupid conversations.

His little sister was roasting marshmallows in the fire on a long stick mum had found for her.

He watched intently. He watched curiously.

What would happen if he held her hand in the fire? Would the skin melt off like dripping wax? Or would it get all crunchy like the marshmallows when you leave them in too long and they catch fire a little bit?

He really wanted to know.

But…this was his little sister. He’d get the spanking of a lifetime if he did something bad.

A smiled settled on his cherubic face. Pulling from his flannel jacket pocket, he produced a small jar. It had a few lizards and frogs in it.

He wanted to try different things.

He had to be careful though. He couldn’t let anyone see.

Moving to the other side of the bonfire, where no one was sitting, he pulled a frog from the jar and tossed it in the edge of the fire. It immediately caught fire and shriveled all up, turning black. It then just looked like a weird rock.

He pulled a lizard out next. He tried to put it on a smooth stone at the fires edge, but the fire was too hot. It was weird. The tail and legs of the little lizard caught fire first, and it squiggled and squirmed around before the rest of it was consumed in the flames.

He smiled, the light of the fire glimmering in his eyes.

He inched a little closer to the fire and used a stick to scoot the little jar of remaining frogs and lizards onto the flat stone at the edge he had aimed for with the lizard.

The little reptiles went into a frenzy, then one by one… they popped! It was beautifully disgusting!

He laughed to himself, thoroughly entertained.

It was a short-lived bit of fun though, when his mum came looking for him. It was time to go in. He didn’t want to. He wanted to play with the fire more. He wanted to put more things in. He didn’t want to go to bed, either. However, maybe he wouldn’t have any accidents tonight with all the lovely images in his head of the reptiles and the fire dancing behind his eyes.

Tomorrow he would go back and retrieve the jar and its contents for his inspection. He would see what the pretty fire would do to other things, too, after stealing the big box of long matches off the picnic table.

Nov 2016 Day 26 (Special)

Nov 2016 Day 26 (Special)

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So, not too long ago a had written a bunch of short stories and posted them on the Niume website. This story in particular seemed to be a hit with readers. I thought I would bring it here to the blog and share, let you all see what you think. Tomorrow, we will revisit this young lad…

One of Three
(original post: https://niume.com/pages/post/?postID=141636 )

He dug into the hard ground with a spoon near a tall tree. He made sure this tree was recognizable to him from all the others in the forest behind his home. He had his reasons.
The biggest being was in case he wanted to come back and remember. Remember the feeling. What if he never did it again? He had to preserve the memory somehow.

He lifted the small puppy up and lay it in the shallow hole he had dug with the spoon. His mother would kill him if she knew he had taken her good serving spoon. She thought she had lost it weeks ago, however. No blame was ever cast on him.

He looked down at the sad little puppy. A sound suddenly spooked him from behind. He looked around, paranoia setting in. Hurriedly he scooped the dirt over the puppy. He placed a few sticks and leaves over the small mound, shoving the spoon deep into the now soften dirt as sort of a marker.

Standing, he wiped the dirt and blood off his hands the best he could with the towel he had used to hide the puppy he had killed.

As he walked home, he tossed it into a nearby stream.

Walking into his home, his mum met him at the door. He smiled sweetly.

‘All things truly wicked start from an innocence…’

~~authors note: I titled this ‘One of three’ as killing small animals as a child or juvenile, is one of the three little quirks most all serial killers share. The others are bedwetting, pyromania, infatuation with ‘dark things’, abuse- be it physical or sexual, or abusing those weaker than themselves, stealing, etc…There are three key items on a list that Profilers look for when building their profiles on killers.~~

November 2016 Day 24

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No NaNo word count yet, too many things going on this morning. Cooking, watching TV…drinking. YES, THERE…I ADMIT IT! I am aiming to get a little tipsy by this evening, logging into one of my RP Games, and doing some RP writing. I have taken most of the month away from my characters and their respective significant others, so now they all deserve to be let out of the box and enjoy a day with their loved ones. I know, I’m weird. My characters in my RP worlds are precious to me.

So, on to todays BlogHer prompt:
 Nov. 24: Have you ever rage-quit a job?

Yes, I have rage quit one job. I would do it again, as well.

You see, I used to work as a night auditor for a hotel in the local area. My daughter was only 4 at the time. These people would abuse the fact that I needed money (which subsequently all went into someone to keep my daughter for me).

Here is what my typical schedule would look like.
Day 1
11pm – 7am
3pm- 11pm

Day 2
7am-3pm
11pm-7am

Sometimes, I didn’t even get hours off between shifts. I would work one drastically long shift from 11pm to 3pm. BUT…these people would not give me 40 hours a week, so no overtime, and no benefits. Just me, exhausted. Did I mention I was only making minimum wage as well?

So my boiling point came at the holidays. They knew I was a single mom. All other employees were much old; their kids lived half way across the country and had no grant plans for holiday events.

Not a single person would volunteer to take my shifts so I could be with my daughter, or even just have a decent break and catch my breath.

So, I didn’t exactly rage out. I sent a letter to corporate, and that same morning, I gave a sort of nasty note to management and my fellow employees telling them all to enjoy rushing to cover my shifts because I quit. When management came in, read the note, they panicked, and I smiled and walked out the door, never to go back.

I got on with a new job shortly after that left me working with ideal hours. M-F, 8am-5pm.

So, only one job really got under my skin. And I rectified that. Do I feel bad? Hell no. That place was toxic for me at that time in my life, and my daughter needed me more.

Well, you all have a great holiday weekend! Watch out for the Black Friday Sales or do like me and order all the things online and drink all the alcohol!

November 2016 Day 23

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I have been out of the house all day, hence the late posting and no NaNoWriMo word count. I’ll have to work on that tonight. Today I ran errands everywhere. Even down to the next town, which is about 40-45 minutes away.

So I’m keeping the blogging to a minimum today. Sorry folks. L

Now to BlogHers prompt for today:
Nov. 23: What’s the weirdest/grossest thing your pet has ever done?

Jeffrey Jones. I don’t know what makes him do it, but he loves just SHOVING his nose in the girls butts. I’m talking aggressive shoving. AND THEY LET HIM!! They just stand there and are like ‘okay, dude, whatever floats your boat.’

And Jeffrey is fixed. He has never even sprayed. I don’t think he’s aware that he can!

He’s just weird.

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November 2016 Day 21

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Howdy!

No NaNo word count yet today, I am just getting home from yet another doctors visit. This time I got some groovy awesome painkillers. Those two bilateral shots on either side of my spine did not help very much, though I now am sporting two lovely large bruises from them.

I’m having a hard time getting around. It hurts – shooting straight up my spine – when I lift my left leg. I am left-side dominant. -.- It hurts to try to change positions in bed. It hurts to step up and down into my office, since it sits lower than the rest of the house and had a big step down.

I have to rely on others to help me with day-to-day tasks and it bothers me to no end. I admit, it bothers me more that things aren’t done how I do them. I mean, I am grateful for the help though. Sounds kind of weird, doesn’t it?

Anywho…let’s move on to the BlogHer prompt for today:
Nov. 21: What is the one thing you wish people better understood about something in your life?

My eccentricities. I am a very eclectic and eccentric person, especially for being an introvert. I like my neon green shoes laces in my purple shoes with my purple socks. I like my hair being blue and green streaked at the moment. (It was teal last month)

I like that I will only go certain places at certain times. I keep schedules, I keep date books, and I keep PC journal and a hand written journal. I horde post-its, coloring books and a variety of art supplies that I will probably never use.

To try to narrow it down is hard. I am very multifaceted.

Ever see that meme about a woman having 1000 tabs open in their brain all at once? That is me. My mind never stops. I have to take medications to sleep; otherwise, I’d never sleep. My body would be in way worse shape, too.

So, if anything, I would want people to understand that even though I am socially introverted out there in the world, I am a thoughtful, creative, eccentric old southern girl that isn’t as mean as she looks and if you speak to me, you’ll gain a friend. Do not judge on appearances. I DO have that ‘resting b!tch face’ syndrome….Lol.

So now, I’m going to see if one of my 1000 open tabs in my brain can pull out my Book Two word document and get to work on another new chapter.

Be sweet, my lovelies…

November 2016 Day 19

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Since there is no BlogHer prompts on the weekend, I thought I’d fill you in on my PAIN. No, really. Yes, lots of pain, but persevering.

I’m listening to a meditation mix on my media player – subtle wind chimes with ocean waves and rain with light thunder. So relaxing.

The cats are on a rampage today, using anything as a springboard, including my chair and me.

I haven’t work on NaNo yet today, but you have been tracking my word count meter, you’ll see the past couple of days have been low in the word count. I can’t concentrate when in pain. I am going to work later to work on one a chapter.

For today, however, you will get a snippet of one on the first chapters in Book Two ‘The Path of Redemption’.

And here we go…hope you enjoy…

“I look for versatility in warriors, for compassion in friends, for the spirit in lovers. You managed to fuse this, so I think you warranted more.” One thing he did not like about the Jeep was the damn separation in the seats. Moving an armrest to have her beside him would have been much more fulfilling. “Grandpa and Dad taught me most, my mom taught me cooking, some Tantric prayers, and about her Shinto arts.”

“I like things spiked a lot if I’m going to drink; I usually want the buzz to dull things when I do. So absinthe, Everclear, or those potent types – like moonshine – for me work best.”

She smiled again. “Mmm… Absinthe… I forgot about that one… haven’t had it in ages.” She said in a soft tone, letting memory serve her the taste.

She toyed with her sword between her knees, sliding her hands over the smooth saya. “Cooking…haven’t a clue on how to do it. I don’t even remember the taste of food. I have memories of things I enjoyed, though, like shrimps, jambalaya, and steak. I just don’t remember the tastes anymore. Just memories, like faded feelings.”

Her eyes looked down at her hands. “My mother didn’t like me much. I mean, she loved me and all but left me with the nanny to raise. She resented me, I think because I was a difficult labor and delivery. I ruined her insides. She couldn’t have any more children after me. My Papa on the other hand, tended to spoil me. However, no one treated me as well as Neeta. That was my nanny. When I killed everyone on the plantation, I spared her. She died a nice old age, natural death.” She said, a little sorrow touching her voice.

“I’m tired of this life.” She then said, out of nowhere. “I don’t want to die or anything; no no no… I’m tired of the loneliness. I never lamented my darkness, but there are things I would prefer to have in its stead.” She said, letting out a small sigh.

She then lifted her face, turning her pale blue eyes to the Templar. She looked him over. He was sexy sitting there driving. An extremely handsome man indeed. She offered a small smile.

“Are we there yet?”

“You’ll get used to food again pretty quick. It gets boring again fast.” The story of her mother was sad. It also did give insight into why it was so easy for her to slip into the darkness if she felt unloved. He resolved that she would never feel that way ever again. “I’m sorry, hon. I wish I could take that away from your mind’s pain, but what I can do is let you know you are loved now and will always be.”