The Tragic Protagonist

She wondered who the first person was to get burned by fire. Whoever was unfortunate enough to experience the sting had a moment of clarity. If only humanity got a preview of the pain poor decisions brought. Maybe it would prevent heartache and tragedies


One minute her life was average. Not a wrinkle of tension. When she compared her mundane existence to others she grew dissatisfied. That was her first mistake, wishing for conflict. To her demise she got her wish. They say a good story revolves around conflict. As she learned, conflict is only fun from the readers point of view rather than the protagonist.


Once the drama started, the plot unfolded for all to see. Her thoughts on display on each page. Her actions studied and criticized by those who would’ve acted differently.


Here she was, caught in the crosshairs of a tumultuous situation.  She knew it to be the beginning of the end as the main character of a horror story, but she had to keep it together for those she entertained.






Squinting between the sun and horizon, a tumble weed scurries past my blistered feet. My throat aches from dehydration as I swallow the salty taste of the blood from my busted lip. Ever since I stepped foot in this godforsaken, wasteland, I’ve lost track of the days, alone so long that my tears have dried against my blackened skin. It’s a miracle I haven’t gone blind from wandering through the midday sun like a car with a broken GPS, past the dunes of sand and sparse wild flowers that give color to the homogenous setting. Although most of my hope is all but gone, there’s still a part of me that believes there’s an oasis ahead. Perhaps, my days as a restless nomad are almost over, and I’ll find a place to rest. A place I can call home.


The Preacher’s Secret

Wedding rings on a dictionary showing the word infidelity

Horacio remembered the day he first saw her at a revival youth seminar. He was busy laying hands on the youth for prayer when he spotted the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her long jet black hair and warm set of dark eyes and lively smile caused him to stutter as she asked for prayer.

 After service was over, he caught up to her and the two of them talked exchanging telephone numbers beginning a long distance relationship over the phone since he traveled regularly. When he’d come to town, he would visit her and take her out on dates. At first her parents were skeptical of him, but after they saw how much of a gentleman he was they grew to love him. He proved himself to them by showing them that he shared their same morals and convictions. It also helped he was an upcoming pastor.
She was innocent unlike most women he pursued, which made her a prize to him. At the time, she was the woman of his dreams. He earned her trust by not letting his true colors show and succeeding in marrying a young virgin, but he soon grew dissatisfied with her. He had always been a playboy in his personal life and he was sure that she really wanted him. A long time ago he wasn’t a womanizer and actually tried to have real relationships with women, but when he was mentored by his senior pastor they would sneak out together seeing various women realizing the shameless nature of many he lost respect for them. He knew his senior pastor was constantly cheating on his decrepit wife who was unaware believing she was living the dream Christian life. There was a difference between being a pastor’s wife which was dull and the mistress, which was for having fun with. Catalina at first seemed she could be both since she was physically perfect to him, but she wasn’t sensual enough to fulfill his sex addiction. At first he gave up his aggressive, strange sexual fetishes trying to be a perfect husband, but when Adrian came along he took up too much of her time and his old desires returned and he sought out mistresses that could do the kinky things his wife would never be willing to do since she strongly was against going outside of the natural uses of sex.
When she had that kid, he loved Adrian. He resembled him and it looked like his boy would always love him, but he began to become annoyed of him because he loved to follow him around even when he needed to sneak out causing him to feel condemned. Adrian was brilliant. The kid could read by the age of two and was already starting basic math at a kindergarten age, which brought a great deal of pride to Horacio, but it wasn’t enough to stop him from withholding his rage. Adrian was his shadow quoting scriptures he memorized them like a robot. Those were the days he loved his son then something changed. He met this woman she was everything he sexually dreamed of and she had a few kids of her own and he began bond with them. Adrian soon became a shade of his mother. He no longer minded beating his son it was no different than beating his stupid wife. When Adrian would cry it would make him feel guilty and he would tell him to shut up. After all he wasn’t a bad person, he was a philanthropist having donated money to numerous charities, went on mission trips feeding the poor. Not to mention a pastor. If he were evil he wouldn’t have family’s basic necessities, and provided the extras, but no; of course they were ungrateful and undeserving of his kindness. When his son would say he was an evil man, he would beat him worse. Adrian used to say God wouldn’t like it or be pleased. How did that kid know he was only a child and he was a pastor? In past Christmases he would either beat him and his mother on that day or go on “revival retreats” in which he spent the holidays with his mistresses and their kids instead. Horacio had been through multiple mistresses probably near the hundreds and didn’t regret it, he was a man and he wasn’t getting what he needed at home.

After the Deluge




“I can’t truly create I can only emulate,” Claudius muttered as he stood beside me.

“What?” I shook my head confused. In my eyes, he was next to a god.

“Art is something unique to mankind. As a Watcher, I can only recreate through a muse,” he said. “And you’re my muse”


“Yes.” He grinned. A heat rose in my face and I turned away to conceal the smile creeping onto the corner of my face.

“Was there any divine intervention with the construction of the ancient ruins? I said.

“After my incarceration, there were a remnant of the Nephilim who took refuge underground since the earth is hollow. The ancients referred to this subterranean paradise as Agartha”

“Get out, the earth has a crust, mantle and core composed of elements. How else do explain the tectonic plate activity?”

“Humans” He closed his eyes and sighed.


“How do you explain the earthquake lights?” He said as his eyes popped open.

“A disruption in the earth’s electromagnetic field and ionosphere?” I said.

“You have so much to learn neophyte”

“Occam’s razor, sometimes the simplest explanations are the right ones. People bend their minds way too far out of shape trying to understand the world.”

“And sometimes the strangest conclusions are the soundest. Perhaps, the earth is flat as well.” He grinned.

“Yea right”

“Let’s not argue about the obvious, and I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

“Go for it”

“Ancient ruins like Baalbek was one of the former headquarters of the ancient ruler Nimrod. The first king of post-flood earth. At first he was a foe to my descendants as he was a mighty hunter targeting the remnant of the Nephilim.”

“Why did he hunt them?”

“He had been brainwashed by the doctrines of his grandfather Noah.”

“It sure sounds like it.”

“In the end he altered his DNA and deemed himself the very first god king as it is put in Akkadian lore with the stele of Naram-sin.”

“Wow, a thirst for power will make you do anything,” I said.

“Prior to our imprisonment, we left a series of instructions discovered by one of Shem’s sons. He followed them to revive a post flood society.”

“Explains the post flood architecture” I grinned.

“The remaining fallen angels refrained from sex with women. In place of copulation with humans, there was an influx of genetic altering. It was far safer and less problematic,” he said.

“Is there a consensus among the angels and people who create Nephilim?” I said.


“ls in not unethical to conduct experiments on people without their consent? Even if it’s to advance the species.”

“Mankind could use an age of peace that’s all we’re trying to do. The tower of Babel was set to be in modern day Tiwanaku Bolivia, but the never saw the deluge coming.”

“So there was contact between pre Columbian and eastern civilizations long before recorded in modern history?”

“Yes, the Nephilim traveled between continents influencing each civilian.”

“Explains the similarity in the ruins”

“Most ruins gave ancient people a sense of closeness to us. Mountains, hilltops and high places are sacred because that’s where the gods dwelled. The pyramids, ziggurats and temples where their way of trying to capture the idea of ascension into heaven. Nimrod was the closet with the tower of Babel until God confounded their languages.


Stay With Us


The glare of headlights in my rearview mirror contributed to the unevenness of my heart. I gripped the steering wheel and squeezed back tears as I sped through the summer night. Ahead were specks of light that sprung up. The tears in my eyes dried as I slowed to a stop.

A couple women stood in the middle of a parking lot and they turned as I pulled up beside them.

“Hey,” one of the women said as she swished towards the car.

“Hi.” I smiled.

“Welcome?” She shook my hand.

“It’s good to be back in civilization. I’ve been driving for days.” I said.

“So what’s your name?” she asked as her manicured nail rested under her sharp chin.


“Nice to meet you, Destiny. I’m Wanda,” she said. The sound of another vehicle as it swung into the lot stole our attention.

“Oh look, another newcomer.” The other woman said.

“Interesting, Anette. We don’t usually get many new faces around here.” Wanda replied. Another woman emerged from the jeep. Her dark hair covered part of her face and when she looked up at me our eyes locked. I quickly looked away and pretended not to notice her intense gaze.

“So what’s your name new girl?” Anette said as she crossed her arms.

“Grace,” the girl replied without a smile, then directed her attention back to me.

“Well, Grace and Destiny make yourselves at home.” Wanda grinned and led us inside the salon. My eyes grew wide with astonishment at all the young people chatting and drinking inside.

“Is everyone in this town in their twenties?” I asked Wanda.

“Yes” Wanda replied, and placed her hand on her hip.

“Weird.” I muttered, then I felt something grip my wrist. I turned to see Grace. We stared at one another for an entire minute before she spoke.

“We need to get out of here,” Grace whispered.

“Why?” I shook my head.

“These people are dangerous.” Grace gritted her teeth.

“How do you know this?”

“Don’t you find the whole set up of the town suspicious?” She leaned in closer so no one else would hear.

“If anything you’re the weird one. You followed me on the road. Your brights were blinding me.”

“Someone has to look out for the naive.” She frowned.

“Oh, so that’s how it is. You stalk and defame me?”

“I wasn’t trying to be mean. I’m just really concerned about you.”


“Because I am.”

“You’re a complete stranger,” I said. Grace turned and walked off, but Anette stopped her.

“Hold up Gracie, you and Destiny will be roommates.”

“What?” I said.

“Oh, you girls didn’t think you were just going to stop by and leave. Stay with us.”

“I don’t have enough to afford rent.” Grace answered.

“Don’t worry, you can stay for free.”

“What’s the catch?” Grace said.

“Nothing.” Anette replied. Both Grace and I exchanged glances and followed her to our apartment complex. It was spacious enough, and had a simple design. When Anette, shut the door Grace grabbed hold of my hands.

‘I’m telling you, we need to leave,” she said.

“I still don’t see why.” I pulled away from her. “I’m going back out to explore.”

“Wait!” She tugged on my shirt, but I moved away.

As I walked through the streets, I noticed a bus at the station and I crept closer and watched as a group of basketball players got out. Then I saw Anette and Wanda deep in conversation with them. I plodded towards them.

“Hey Wanda!” I said. She turned and narrowed her lids at me.

“Oh hey, Destiny. I thought you and Grace were in for the night. You seemed a bit flustered by everything.”

“I’m a night owl.”

“Oh okay, well meet our familiar strangers.” She pointed to the team of guys they were now staring at the both of us.

“Hi” I waved shyly. One of them grinned.

“Destiny, I was thinking I could give you a bit of a makeover.” Anette said coming up from behind.

“I don’t think I’m in the mood.”

“Trust me, when I say that I can give you the red carpet look.”

“You’ve got to be kidding?”

“I used to work as a makeup artist in Hollywood before I relocated.”

“I don’t know,” I said.

“Go on, try it. Anette is amazing at what she does and she’s quick.” Wanda winked.

“I guess.” I sighed. Anette led me inside and seated me in an empty chair. My heart started to rage again. I tried to ignore it as my hand tingled. Anette applied foundation, and she resumed her conversation with one of the guys as he walked inside to see her. I was nervous since there was no mirror. Then she stopped, and I stood up confused.

“Anette,” I interrupted her.

“What?” She scowled.

“You didn’t finish.”

“I’m done,” she said. The guy she spoke to gaped at me, and the pounding of my heart grew worse.

I rushed to a mirror and my mouth dropped at the sight. My face glimmered as I now possessed the look of many of the women I would fawn over on television, but something was missing. I couldn’t place it and no matter how glamorous I looked, I was disgusted. Then it hit me, it was my soul.

I backed away and dashed to the apartment to collect my things. There Grace waited cross armed.

“You’re leaving?”

I ignored her and continued to pack my bags.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She snatched my bag.

“Because it’s none of your business!” I snapped at her. She tackled me, and I elbowed her in the face. She fell over and I sprinted outside. A tow truck dragged away my car.

I tore down the street as the entire town was now outside including Grace. Their eyes were solid black as they surged towards me, and I ran out of the town with only the wilderness to hear my cries.


Her Revenge

“Azazel!” Naamah shouted, from the pit of her stomach as she toppled over the mound of rocks that sealed her husband’s fate.He could no longer hear her from his imprisonment within the earth. 

* * *

Thousands of years went by, and her heart hardened. She ruled over the other sirens in a kingdom beneath the sea, luring men’s ships in only to crash from the sound of her melodic voice.

Certain nights she left the waters and traveled to men’s bedrooms, taking on whatever form a man craved feeding on their tantric energy. Her operations grew more destructive as she taught hexes to her cult followers. Although Lemuria had been destroyed by the deluge, she never truly left it.The dark sorcery that had brought about the antedeluvian world’s demise was within her.

Not a Hawk Anymore


“Welcome to Seil University, we’re glad for you to join the Hawk family, Moe. Make sure to return next month on the fifth for orientation.” The advisor grinned.

“I’m glad I was able to transfer, it’s always been my dream” Moe said as she glanced at the Hawk statue in the center of the courtyard. It reminded her of all of the hard work she had put in to get here. It had been her dream school since she was in elementary, but senior year of high school she was devastated after being rejected. So she attended two years of community college, and with a perfect GPA made it over the hurdle.

“Congratulations you earned it!” The advisor patted her back.

“Thanks” Moe blushed.

“Bye!” The advisor waved.

“See ya!” Moe lifted her hand. “Phew!” she said to herself and whipped a cluster of sweat from her brow. It was a relief to be finished with registration. Reaching into her tote bag, she pulled out a green and blue t-shirt with a Hawk on it and snuggled it. This would be her official Friday shirt. With her strange habit of wearing her favorite shirt at the end of the week it made each day of the week seem to fly by faster.

* * *

At noon the next day, she stretched her long arms, leapt out of bed and spun around like the days she would dance ballet.

Just as she headed to shower with a bundle of clothing tucked under her frail arms, she noticed her t-shirt tossed on the bedpost looked different. She scratched her head.

“What?” She gasped and turned it over. The shirt still said Seil University, but the hawk was now a bear. “I know, I didn’t buy a bear shirt!” She fumed and marched out of her room downstairs.

Her father was on the couch with a newspaper and a cup of coffee.

“I can’t believe you!” She shouted. He looked up at her confused.

“Moe are you feeling alright?”

“No!” she cried, gripping the rail.

“What’s the matter?”

“Someone switched my spirit t-shirt for this ugly shirt.” She held it up.

“Let me see,” he offered, and she tossed it to him. He caught it, turned it over, and his brow rose.

“Ah, Moe…”

“What?” She crossed her arms.

“This is the same shirt you bought yesterday?”

“No, it clearly isn’t. The other one had the school mascot on it not that atrocious bear.”

“Have you been drinking again?” he asked.

“No!” She slapped her hand against her forehead.

“The school mascot is a bear. I remember when I went to Seil twenty-five years ago. I was a bear.”

“Ha, funny dad. You and mom always told Mandy and I that you two met there, and got married in your Hawk gear.”

“Definitely not!” a voice said. She turned to see her older sister Mandy, who was also visiting their parents for the summer behind her.

“You two? Now are in on this joke?”

“No, Moe there’s no “conspiracy” you just have an awful memory.” Mandy smirked. Moe turned away and marched past her sister up the staircase with tears brimming in her eyes.

The ding of a notification on her phone dried he tears. She checked it to see another message on Gmail from Seil University, and plopped down on the bed to read it. “Thanks for Visiting Seil University, welcome to bear country!”

There was no way. Everything changed over night. She opened her second drawer where all her letters from school were kept and dug through them frantically. All of them had a bear mascot in place of a hawk and welcomed her to the bear family. It was if something had alerted the past, and she let out a scream.