Kitsune Santa

To commemorate the season, I've decided to post one of my early, hormone fueled, very Japan-o-phile-centric works. If you like it, let me know in the comments!

 On a blustery winter night, a young woman walked down Japan's paradise for the 1%, the Ginza, as she juggled the armful of dolls and electronics. Her breaths like smoker's puffs, she thought to herself "Wow, I got lucky today. I know the kids'll love the WiiU, but if my hubby can't be happy about the new Camera I got him, I swear I'll slap the taste out of his mouth" The sound of boots crushing the powdery snow approached from all around, a cocky voice calling out, "Yo, that's some nice stuff you got there, gook. Why don't you let the natives have it?"

"I might, if you know what the square root of 484 is." Stopped in their tracks for a moment, the young punks scratched their heads, with the spiky, green haired leader finally saying, "That doesn't matter! The only math that does matter is that there's 5 of us, one of you, and a lot of goodies to be gained..." As those behind her rushed headlong, a cane decked in white and spiraling red hooked their reaching hands away. A mighty blow sent the hoodlums flying and both the remaining kids, and the mother looked, to see a Santa suit clad woman standing before them, her silver mane flowing in the breeze, as she addled towards the group's lead. Her ember eyes peered at him, as she said, "Stealing from a mom on a Christmas shopping run? That's is l-o-w, low."

"So? You do what you gotta do, when you don't got nothing." Her fox tail swaying underneath her skirt, the girl brushed snow from her porcelain face.

"Nothing? What of your family, your friends, your cherished ones? Are they meaningless to you, as well? Is their love less valuable than that WiiU, in her bag?"

"Anyone ever told you, you talk too much, freak?" With a sneer, she glanced over at her handcuffed and underwear dressed companion beside her, and said, "Miki! Take the mom away from here. I'd hate to damage the goods, after all." The short haired girl took the mother by the hand, and lead her out of danger. Seeing this, the foxgirl held the cane half way with one hand and extended the other.

Band of One

Writing is something I have a deeply rooted relationship, and whenever I see exceptional pieces, I want to share them with those around and give them they attention they deserve. This is how I feel about a short story a friend wrote for me a while back, and having finally found in in my personal archives, would like to give them a much wider audience. To get you up to speed, this is the primer which spurred its creation(the title of which is this post's):

When construction began on the grounds on an long forgotten peoples, a terrible presence had been awakened. Those who were trained in the ancient ways set out to put this new found foe back to rest, banding together to travel across their world and gather the needed components. As the crew felled each component's guardian they, too, were felled. Some by greed, while others sacrificed themselves to make their victories possible, including their leader and the one person she felt herself grow closer to. One long year later she stands at the door to the beast's lair, component on her person and sword and shield in hand. With the hopes of her comrades laid upon her she steps inside, ready to give anything and everything she has to restoring this world and the lives of those affected.

I should warn you that the contents are not for kids and have strong Lovecraft-ian influences, so if that sort of violence, blood and gore isn't your thing, turn back now.

Still here? Good. Here it is, in it's natural state. Enjoy!

When construction began on the grounds on an long forgotten peoples, a terrible presence had been awakened. Those who were trained in the ancient ways set out to put this new found foe back to rest, banding together to travel across their world to gather the needed components. As the crew felled each component's guardian they, too, were felled. Some by greed, while others sacrificed themselves to make their victories possible, including their leader and the one person she felt herself grow closer to. One long year later she stands at the door to the beast's lair, component on her person and sword and shield in hand. With the hopes of her comrades laid upon her she steps inside, ready to give anything and everything she has to restoring this world and the lives of those affected.

Blind Date

This is a short I wrote way back when, around the time I entered a dark place in my love, in terms of romantic involvement. Since I felt the message I wanted to send in those days got lost due to my own emotional quagmire and distinctly stilted views on women seeking men in those days, I took the editing knife to it to let the emotional impact better shine forth. This actually came to be one of those emotionally charged editing sessions where I had to face some of the darkness I thought I left behind for good, and in the end, I was better for facing up to it. I would hope this reflects in the final product, and is something you can appreciate. Without further delay, here is a moment in time from the life of people seeking love and somebody real

G.U.E.C.

This is a descriptive short I whipped up for my English class, and I have to say I'm quite proud of it. Down the line, I'm even considering making some logos and sketches to help better realize it. I did get a bit carried away during the writing process, though, so it runs a bit longer than many of my other works. If you wanna see the tale of a boy and his affront to scientific logic, take a look after the jump. As always, feel free to leave any thoughts you may have on it

Windfall

This is a short I wrote up around the holidays to keep myself in thought about the holiday spirit, and is also tied to a larger project I'm working on with an artist of mine. Read and enjoy, and if you like, drop me a comment.

The slender, ponytailed young waitress brisked through the busy diner, balancing a tray piled with her table’s order. Soon after reaching the customers she said, “Here you go, meals fit for royalty.” as she placed it in front of them. One of her customers, a woman with boyish brown hair and sun kissed skin, asked, “And what kind of royalty orders Bacon Cheeseburgers, Fries and Chocolate Shakes?”




“Why, the kind that knows how to live it up, of course!” A laugh was shared, and a young girl wearing fiery pigtails glanced at the waitress with her emerald eyes and said, “Thank you for the meal.” to her.



“And thank you for coming. Enjoy!”Just as swiftly, the waitress rushed towards the kitchen to continue her shift. The moment she left, the woman slapped her hands together and proclaimed “Alright, let’s dig in!” With a giggle, the girl pulled up the sleeves of her pink turtleneck. Grabbing the burger with a dual grip, she said, “Hope this doesn’t get too messy”



“But the mess is half the fun, Ms. Jones, especially with this kind of food.”



“I guess. I just don’t wanna do things the wrong way, you know, Chisa?” With a gulp, Chisa pointed a fry at her and told her, “If you can’t let yourself do something wrong, you’ll never let yourself do anything.” The girl nodded as she swallowed her bite. Taking a sip of her shake, she took a small, blank envelope from her jean’s pocket, Chisa’s hazel eyes immediately locking onto it. “I’m guessing that has something to do with what you wanna do right?”



“Yeah, it does.” Tapping it on the table, she let out a sigh and fixed her gaze at Chisa’s half-eaten burger, commenting, “Has anyone ever told you ‘you eat like a jackrabbit’?”



“Hmm, don’t remember hearing I eat like one. Also don’t get any funny ideas.”



“Too late.” She said with a smile, munching a French Fry. Chisa rubbed her temple, grunting in irritation before saying, “Anyways, you already heard what I had to say; it’s on you to decide where it goes.” The girl’s eyes contemplated the bulge of the envelope, recalling when she first got it that morning in the park.

***

The Call

This is a short I was preparing for quite a while before I felt comfortable enough to put it up with my other works. In this one the subjects being observed are involved in what happens when the delicate social balance all of us maintain happens to stray out of balance, which of course can lead to dire consquences. As always, read and if you have something to say, comment.

Melanie returned home from cheering the high school football team to victory that night, her wavy brown hair stuck to her face as she reached the front porch. Her hot pink sneakers lightly treaded the oaken steps, her cell phone vibrating in her stonewashed denim jeans. Grabbing the slim lavender phone from her back pocket she flipped it open and answered, “Hello, this is Melly, who’s calling?”

“Someone you should not have messed with.” Pulling up her keys by the small, metallic pink chain they hung on she jiggled the door as she said, “Ugh, what are you, some nerd my boyfriend beat up?” The warped, raspy voice responded, “You could say that. Turn on your living room lights, Melly.” Flipping on her ceiling lamp she saw a varsity jacket clad boy with a flowing blond mane. His broad figure was propped up on the black leather couch. As she approached him she began seeing bits of red around his neck and a gash growing greater and greater across his throat. Her mouth went agape, eyes fixed open as the voice said, “So did you see it, Melly? The lifeless eyes, the pale face, the cut I gladly carved into your boytoy’s neck?” With her hands trembling she held the phone in front of her and yelled, “Just who the hell are you, you freak?”

“Who I am isn’t important. What is important is what I’ve left waiting for you in your room.” Melanie made a mad dash up the stairs to her room, bursting in to see her raven haired best friend face down on her lace trimmed bed, a butcher’s knife pierced through the nurse’s uniform she wore. Her body violently shook as she recoiled, holding the phone close to her ear as the voice said, “Well? Did you manage to find surprise #2?” Soft sobs escaped her as she made her way towards the swinging front door and said, “Why are you doing this to me? What could I have possible done to deserve this? And why now, of all nights?”

“The answer is quite simple, my dear Melly. Your best friend betrayed my trust, your boyfriend broke my heart and you’re the one that stabbed me in the back and twisted the dagger. As for your brother, well…his breathless body will lay on your lawn to remind you of your actions.” At that moment she saw her Frankenstein-clad brother crumpled over, face down in a pile of leaves. Then, as if on cue, the voice said, “But before you call the police listen to what I have to say. You can report me to the cops and give me a chance to manipulate the system and let myself out, or you can grab a knife, come to the park and try and stop me yourself. The choice is yours, so what’ll it be, Melly?” Without hesitation she dropped the phone and ran for the chef’s knife lying on the kitchen table. Keys to her Porsche Boxster in hand she hopped into the car and sped off as she screamed, “I’ll get you, you son of a bitch!” Moments later her little brother staggered to his feet, holding his stomach and saying, “Man, I didn’t know they fed you so much at costume parties…”

***

The roar of the Boxster’s engines echoed through the night air, Melanie pulling up to the swinging gates of the park entrance. With knife in hand Melanie hopped out and yelled, “I’m here to get you, you freak!” She prowled around the park’s forest, her eyes seeking anything remotely human to stab. After an eternity of searching she found an illuminated silhouette at the other end of the park. Without fail she dashed toward it as she said, “I hope you’re ready for me, ‘cause here it comes!” With sprinter grade speed she held the knife high and prepared to put everything into killing the twisted monster she saw in front of her. Just as she felt close enough to run it through she felt several heavy people tackle her to the ground. With polished black hush puppies staring her in the face she looked up to see a crew cut officer say, “Melanie Lane, you’re under arrest for the attempted murder of Kiri Aobayashi” As the officer read her rights she heard a soft, demure voice say, “I always knew you didn’t like me, but I never would’ve guessed you hated me this much…” To the right of the officer she saw a coquettish, pig tailed young girl dressed in a Catholic school girl’s uniform and grew furious, struggling and squirming as she screamed, “What the fuck did you expect? You killed my best friend, boyfriend and brother!”

“Killed? Me? That can’t possibly be right. They were with me the whole night at a costume dinner party. I’ll even call them right now, if you want.” At that moment Kiri pulled out her modest black cell phone, with Melanie letting out psychotic bellows as she dialed. A moment later Kiri said, “Hello, Chelsea? You sound a bit sleepy, maybe you should rest a bit more. Yes the makeup and such was very elaborate, but it did surprise everyone, didn’t it? Well my ride’s coming soon so I’ll catch you later.” As Kiri hung up she saw the police cars pull away with Melanie huddled in the back of one of them. A wicked grin crossed her face as she walked away from the scene and said, “See you around, Melly.”

Gym Rat

This is a a short inspired by a prompt I got from another place I often go to. Hopefully it reaches the people who are trying to shape themselves into who they want to be.

"I must be dreamin or...
We're on to somethin'

I must be dreamin' for...
I don't fall in-"

The palm of her hand smacked down on the snooze button of her musical alarm clock. Her auburn eyes leered at the turquoise digital numbers as they glowed "5:30 AM". Crawling out from under her plaid blue sheets she grasped around the nightstand until she felt the cool wooden handle of her fine tooth comb and dragged herself out of bed. She lurched towards the body length mirror propped on the opposite end of her cozily decorated room. As she combed her rich brown hair into its familiar feathered form, her free hand reached for the side of her abs, seeing how much of herself she could grab. She only managed to fill her fingertips, yet as she looked up from her hand, she saw the image burned into her memory when she first began this routine 2 months ago.

She slouched on the couch with her mom and brother, laughing at the sitcom they loved so dearly as she saw a severely obese man run on a treadmill. Her candy bar rolling around on her tongue, she was fixated on the way his blubber swirled around like the ocean waves. Her family laughed and laughed, but she soon noticed her own family was not in much better shape than the man on the TV, and as it soon came to be in her own mind, neither was she. At that moment she began to scrutinize what was left of her candy bar, handing it off to her brother before heading outside for a bike ride. That evening she rode all the way to the edge of town and back, all the while swearing to herself she'd do what was needed to avoid becoming such a hideous monstrosity.

She slinked into her powder blue gym sweats and butterfly emblazoned tanktop, all the while noshing on the granola bars she kept in her gym bag. With all components on hand she power walked to the door and loaded her bag and bottle in her adult tricycle's basket. Her earphones on and music pumping she began her journey anew, peddling hard all 3.5 miles to the local gym before doing her pre-exercise warm up stretches, then doing 3 sets of 25 pushups, 3 sets of 35 crunches, 2 sets of 25 chin ups(switching grips with each set)3 sets of 20 leg curls with the machine set at 140 pounds, and 3 sets of 20 bench presses at nearly twice her body weight, plus many more varied in and out of her routine everyday. Her body tired and slick with sweat, she takes a few laps in the gym swimming lanes before finally relaxing in the hot tub and showering off, dressing up and returning home to prepare for school later in the day. As she rides home she passes by a portly gentleman eating a big, juicy burger, showing her the one thing she's wanted to do since she began this: the ability to smile.