A Memory of Bill

A Memory of Bill

By: Gus Calvo

It was again 3:00 AM when I had to go to work, times working in that supermarket chain proven to be weird because after many years of thinking of undiagnosed schizophrenia with the help of my doctor and counselor, they realized I wasn’t. The hour of the witch still creeps me out, because is when there is a time in the day where everything from the other world becomes visible to anyone who is not with the blood of the witches.

As I walked inside my shift, I couldn’t stop thinking about the hour of the witch, it happens several times on the world, but is limited to the time zones, the problem was within every hour there was a chance a hellmouth would open, and that’s what happened in Florida, the biggest one opened in the Everglades a few years ago, a second one on Key West and a Third on Lettuce Park in Tampa which wasn’t far away from the supermarket I was going in.

A week before, July something of course, Bill died; he was one of the coworkers who was next in the meat department, he was horrible but dying in such a way it was bad still. I couldn’t stop thinking about him and that maybe his spirit was stuck still with us, but as I was walking down, I realized I wasn’t alone in the plaza.

The plaza was big, but it was mostly the supermarket and just a few business that surround it, it was not far from Lettuce Park, only five minutes north the road in the boulevard; the supermarket was in the center and in the sides were a few business including a bank and some bars that would cater the suburb the plaza was located in. There was no human near me, but I could see them perfectly, the shadow people was gathering around, I was thinking about going back to the car and get out.

I was already half the way in the plaza, and I just need it to ring the bell and I would at least be with other humans, but the problem was if there was a cluster of Shadows then no matter how many we were we would be death. I couldn’t keep walking any longer, the Shadow People were going inside the store, I knew I wasn’t going to go in because they only appear whenever a tragedy happens or they were going to take a soul with them, to a destiny that wasn’t heaven, limbo or hell.

Some of my elder relatives said that it was in my blood, the blood of the afro indigenous from the Caribbean who were blessed by Busiraco over the centuries, they say in our blood we could contact the world of the spirits but also other ones that were linked to ours, think some sort of a shaman or a mystic but in my case my knowledge of the forbidden lore was minimal except I knew it involved my stability on my mental health.

“I shouldn’t had come today” I said to myself, I just stood in the parking lot looking at the Shadows go inside the store, but also I noticed I wasn’t alone, behind me there was the Hat Man, at least one of the many. They were the leaders of the Shadow People, they had more power than the clusters but they were also sentient and they spoke the human languages from the areas they appear, they were terrifying and paralyze me from head to toes.

His hand was so cold, he was blocking me to keep moving just by touching my shoulder.

“Is always one of you, who can see us, is fine, there is nothing much you can do until we claim you, just like we claim the others of your kin”

“Did you guys claim Bill?” I could only ask.

“No, he wasn’t one of you, he was just an accident that happened and we devour him whenever his soul came back to the place he felt some happiness”

“You are monsters”

As soon I blinked, they were gone. I walked slowly to the store again, only to realize they were back on the corners, far away from any human who was walking, for some reason they feared or at least when there wasn’t a Hat Man there, they hated the scent of humans, they just lurk in the places where they don’t have to deal with more than two people.

I wonder if the Hat Men could control them. I was not even sure, as I walked inside the store, some of the grocery clerk that was already in but I still had ten more minutes before my shift, so while I was walking I realized I wasn’t alone on my side, I saw the shadow of Bill, he was there in the corner of the seafood station, he was there in between the door that connected the meat department and the little inside cooler.

“Why you can’t go?” I ask him, even if I knew I wasn’t expecting an answer.

“I want to know if my wife would be OK?” He asked me to my surprise.

“She will, she will move on and will live with one of you nephews”

“What about seafood?”

“Will be fine too Bill, people come and go, the question I have for you, are you going to be OK?”

“I do not know Tim, I do not know” He said those words as he faded in to the nothingness.

A Long Time Ago, Not so Long Short Story

A Long Time Ago, Not so Long

Short Story

By: Gustavo Calvo

(I will correct it later)

A long time ago there was this young guy, he lived between two lives, one live was to please his family and the other one was to be free; that young guy eventually moved countries and tried to live his life to the fullest but he couldn’t escape from his past. There were always the voices in his head of self-hate and from his ancestors that bounded him. During that flight when he was arriving in the new land he didn’t feel scared.

Then he got lost in a Wonderland, so many years of abuse paid a toll on his mind and his body, where he grew twice in size and shrink a fourth of his height. It was a trip without a white rabbit but with so many queens of heart. He had so many friends, and he forgot about them.

No matter what, the monsters that grew in his head overcame his memories and the memories became shadows of what they were, so many times that guy spoke with a younger friend; his friend was a red war eagle who lived in the north, a talented eagle with his brother a fox bring happiness to the world, they always make other smiles and so to the young guy.

The guy knew he wasn’t going to be there for a while, he was lost in a Wonderland that four Alice’s controlled the Kingdoms, each Kingdom held a memory and eventually the guy became a shadow of his own self, he kept asking his friends to not forget about him, even if he got lost in the Wonderland because eventually he wanted to find himself and find them again.

The four Alice’s didn’t got much of the guy’s memories, he gave one to each friend on the distant land and ask them “if you forgive me, that’s fine, sometimes we are destined to forget the people who become shadows of the realm” The guy kept talking with his friends, but slowly one by one they started to forget him, slowly he was becoming a shadow, a shadow trapped on his room, a shadow that only existed to be a servant.

Time passed by and the guy isolated himself from the world, only the red eagle was the one behind; his brother forgot about him, the others from the tribe of the guy forgot about him too. The eagle could barely remember him, as he was fading, the guy only was appearing to say hello on rare occasions, he was becoming faster and faster a shadow.

Until one day the guy finally stopped being himself and became a persona of who he was, a memory, a walking memento that was there to serve and only existed for that purpose. He kept muttering “please don’t forget me, please I don’t want to fade away, my heart is with you, even the Alice’s couldn’t take me fully”

A long time ago, not so long ago, where his memories got fragmented because there was no purpose for him he found; the four Alice’s eventually one by one started breaking their seals over a 9 year period but the guy was lost and he woke, he saw himself as a human, he was on a world that he didn’t recognized, it was a cold room along with other men, it wasn’t a prison but it was some sort of a retention center.

“I wanted to die” he muttered while being on the couch, he realized he wasn’t in his fantasy world but instead he knew he lost his mind, he knew the years of abuse paid a toll on him and eventually he found himself with his worse that we has going to become a shadow for all eternity. A long time ago, he spoke with the eagle and the fox, he wasn’t even sure what was real and not, but that conversation he remembered “I hope I can day I can go and visit, I am proud of you; I have no clue what will happen with me, but even if you and the rest forget me, I can come back as a new friend and we can build fresh memories”

Eventually the guy became friends with a bunny, a duck, the father time, a dragon, a snow leopard, just to name a few, he became friends with the King of Avalon, and a demi guy with the spirit of a musicians of the rocks. The memories were still spaced on the four Kingdoms that the Alice owned inside his mind, but at least he was not trapped in that nightmare that almost costed his life.

New memories were formed, and old ones triggered by music came back, but the guy couldn’t still remember but at the end he let them go the ones he couldn’t make come back; old friends became new and it was like starting over again.

When the Big Sister Comes Down to Visit

I am not correcting or doing anything with the grammar, I is lazy on that level. Thank you. Also this a draft that I need to develop further.

When the Big Sister Comes Down to Visit

By:

Gustavo Calvo

There was these rumors, an online rumor like so many about this Facebook group that was handled by a mysterious figure, that went by The Sister. Nobody was aware who she looked in real life, only a small group of people knew her and were part of her apostles, but overall the sister’s main goal was to keep her political movement that had no name but rather it was there, she was gathering followers just by “supporting them” as no one could live without the Sister.

Jax Smith wanted to know more about the Sister but there was not too much information online about her whereabouts or if it was real, a real person. The only thing they knew it was Sister had adepts everywhere and her Facebook page reached around 600,000 individuals but not many people knew her at all, not even the members of the Apostles.

Jax was curious as they traveled to New York City to try to find information of the Sister, she was revered as a religious figure also because everyone who fall under her charm couldn’t say the opposite about her, as her followers would dox anyone who dared to defy her.

They were sitting on a park in the middle of the Bronx, after spending a week in the city they were feeling helpless to know if the clues they got were right, getting an interview with the Big Sister would mean to win a Pulitzer as her was a charismatic person that out of nowhere moved the masses so much, then they reach a point that they knew finding here was going to be an impossible task so they started writing the article while waiting in the airport.

She is a mystery, almost as if George Wells created her; there is nowhere to be found her but people seem to adore her, everyone know her and she goes by the name Sabrina, rumor was that she lived in the Bronx but on a honest level as a journalist I should had checked my sources, yet the experience of chasing a person that probably doesn’t exist is fascinating, but who created Big Sister?

The honest answer is “I do not know”, could be a character created from a viral campaign by any politician but she doesn’t really support any, but rather she doesn’t support any campaigns, she is just there creating bliss to her followers. Not even a Google Reverse Image Search could give any results, the only information was that she hated the Republican Party.

So who she is?.,,

“She is someone real” Said a voice behind Jax, “Who is that?” They replied. “My name is Dominique Sabrina Hildedottir” Said the voice who was somewhat raspy and gravely “or you can call me Sabrina” Jax was impressed, but at the same time they were scared of somewhat taller and bigger than they.

“Are you real?” They ask. “Yes, and I heard you been looking for me, so I decided to come up, also I have to say close your laptop and only put your phone on record, I am willing to concede you an interview but I do not want to be video recorded, please do not try anything stupid I am not alone as my inner circle is here with me”

“I do not see them” They said. “They are here Jax, they been already following you for at least two hours, your plane won’t go out yet so we can sit at Starbucks and you can buy me a drink”

“Deal”

The two of them started to walk, Jax was kind of scared as he really didn’t spoke to many people about what they were looking for, but also, they were fascinated by how unique Sabrina was. Not many people they knew who could exert  influences were trans or at least non-binary and Sabrina was one of them, one of they, she was tall, around 6’3, her hair was short and curly and her voice was extremely raspy as if she smoked a lot daily. They wanted to ask a lot of questions, but the time was limited.

When they finally sat down, they realized them weren’t alone, some of the people around them when they was waiting followed them, “it was her inner circle” they thought before sitting down with the Frappuccinos and bagels, they were studying her and the more they analyzed her, they fear her, it wasn’t a normal fear, Sabrina was someone who accrued so much power and yet she seemed to be ordinary as any other person, yet they know she wasn’t alone as there were at least 20 people who were escorting her.

“How did you thought about the Big Sister?...”

“Sorry for the interruption, but that has been on the works for a while, it started with a group from different parts of the world, science communicators, we all need it a voice of representation but also they were vulnerable, they were lost so we decided to form an experiment, we created a character, we started to create groups and then it just expanded, we are like a legion and I am the savior”

“I am curious, what is the ultimate end?”

“Jax, to create a new form of power, you haven’t realized it? I thought you were smart, I guess intel on you was wrong, maybe you are just a lucky person”

“She didn’t called me he or she, she knows my pronouns, this is creepy” They thought. “Why? What is the ultimate power?”

“To enable a counsel of science, to create an hegemony where perfection will truly exist…”

“She is lying” They thought.

“Tell me the truth” They said.

“I would have to kill you, my followers are willing to die for me and if I tell you the truth you will don’t come alive”

“Why?”

“Is for a greater good Jax…”

“Then I rather die”

“ I want to become a figure who is worshipped, the savior of the helpless, the ones who will me as a mother of all”

“Fuck you”

Sabrina made a hand gestured and someone not far away shoot at Jax point blank, but they didn’t die without sending the voice file of their phone to their editor. It was a start to throw the cult of the Big Sister into the fire.

La Llorona

Por: Gus Calvo

La tormenta estaba tomando apogeo en la Bahía de las Animas, los rayos y truenos se podían oír y ver a lo lejos, casi en el nuevo Hotel Caribe que estaba en una de las isletas metida en la bahía. Las olas estremecían la tierra y a lo lejos en el sector de las murallas José Ignacio Villazón estaba corriendo hacia la Iglesia de San Pedro Claver para buscar resguardo de la lluvia.

“Alguien ábrame la puerta por favor” Golpeo en el convento que estaba anexo a la iglesia, pero nadie le respondio.

“ !Soy un pobre hombre en un busca de refugio hasta que la tormenta pase!” Pero nadie respondió. La visibilidad era muy pobre, y con el ruido de la tormenta lo mas seguro es que nadie lo podía oír en las premisas. Por un momento pensó que de pronto las hermanas no le iban abrir por algún voto de castidad en lo que los hombres no tenían permitido entrar.

La tormenta seguía empeorando, y al parecer iba a llover por un par de horas, pensó que de pronto podría resguardarse bajo la puerta de la iglesia que era la suficientemente grande y arqueada, pero se percató de manera tardía que la lluvia estaba pegando al lado de los muros.

No sabia que hacer, y no quería salir debido a los rayos. En su estupor cuando iba a volver a la puerta del convento, se percato de una mujer vestida de blanco, de las más exquisitas telas traídas del oriente, perfectas tes morena, y unos ojos verdes que parecían desafiar las leyes de la física. En sus manos llevaba un bulto cubierto, parecía un encargo, pero nadie iba a cubrir una parcela con telas tan costosas.

La mujer no se percató de José, y se acerco a la puerta, siempre mirándola fijamente con esos ojos verdes que parecían esmeraldas satánicas, se paro con una pose desgarbada y saco su mano de entre las fundas que llevaba, era una mano esquelética la cual le hizo dudar a José que si de pronto él había muerto.

“Si me vienes a llevar, no estoy listo, mi vida ha sido un suspiro en estos 22 años, perdonadme mis pecados antes que me lleves al otro mundo” Susurro Jose entre sus mas profundas lamentaciones.

“Santo Padre Celestial, ¿Qué es esta abominación?”

La mujer dejo caer el bulto para que esta mostrara el cadáver de un infante de apenas unos pocos meses de nacido.

“¡Déjenme entrar! Mis hijos, mi hijo, mis retoños han muerto, necesitan la bendición del Padre Carrasquilla” La cara de la mujer empezó a transformarse en una calavera que derramaba lagrimas de sangre.

“Este sufrimiento de una madre, en no poder subir y ver a la divina providencia es un castigo divino” Él bebe empezó a parpadear y José le vio esos ojos rojos que parecían haber visto el mismo infierno y la cara de Satanás. La mujer seguía llorando mientras golpeaba la puerta. José no dudo mas y salió corriendo de la puerta de la iglesia, volvió a tocar de una la puerta del convento dando gritos de ultratumba.

Una hermana de apellido Rodríguez se apiado de él, pero más fue coincidencia ya que estaba pasando por la entrada y oyó los gritos de miedo. Ella se sorprendió al ver al pobre hombre, pero su atención se cambio cuando vio a la mujer que daba gritos de dolor en la entrada de la iglesia.

“Pase mi buen hombre, usted esta entre nosotros los vivos, esa pobre alma en pena si usted sigue al lado de ella, se lo llevara al infierno”

José se tranquilizo y le pregunto a la hermana ¿quién era ella?, y la hermana con una sonrisa le contesto “La llorona, viene con la lluvia y se va con ella misma.”

Hitori Kakurenbo

Fueron aquellos pasos a las dos de la madrugada lo que me despertaron, estaba solo en casa, y oí a alguien caminando adentro. Lo primero que hice fue ponerle seguro a la puerta y llamar a la policía, de una me encerré en el closet Me quedé pensando ¿Qué pudo ser eso? No tenía idea, pero me llamo la atención ya que los pasos estaban en diferentes direcciones, pensé por un segundo que podrían ser varias personas.

La policía se estaba demorando en llegar, al menos sentí una eternidad en esos pocos minutos que duro la experiencia, el pánico me estaba inundando mis entrañas y honestamente no sabía que hacer. En algún punto oí la risa de un niño dentro del cuarto; me quede pensando en todas las posibilidades ¿Qué haría un niño en mi casa?

Mi casa no era muy grande, era parte de un condominio, dos habitaciones en el segundo piso y una en el primero, no era una casa muy grande considerando que era lo que llamaban una townhouse, pensé por un segundo que algún niño del vecindario se habría metido para hacerme una jugarreta. Sin dudarlo salí del closet y empecé a caminar la casa, estaba solo ese fin de semana ya que mi esposa había ido a visitar a sus padres al norte de la Florida y se había llevado al perro.

Mi suegra y mis sobrinas les encantaba el perro, y siempre que venían a visitar Mota dormía con ellas en el cuarto de huéspedes; pero ese fin de semana estaba completamente solo. Pensé que por un momento nuestro hijo había vuelto pero el estaba en los dormitorios de la universidad y lo mas seguro es que nos hubiera llamado con anterioridad.

La policía se estaba demorando en llegar, pero siendo honesto conmigo mismo nunca llegaban tan rápido al menos que fuera cualquier tipo de emergencia que no fuera en una residencia. Volví a oír los pasos en el primer piso, se me congelo la sangre, tenia que ir a ver que era eso.

No grite, solo camine en silencio armado con un bate; pensando que los asaltantes ya tendrían algún cuchillo de la cocina o pistola pero la risa de los niños seguía vigente, seguía activa seguían moviéndose, el miedo se estaba apoderando de mi pero para mi mayor sorpresa cuando baje al área en común no vi nada mas que un osito de felpa que tenia al lado un cuchillo, prendí las luces y revise las ventanas al igual que la habitación de huéspedes y la puerta de salida.

Todo estaba en orden, no tenia idea de donde había salido ese oso de felpa, cuando lo revise con detalle me percate que adentro había arroz y sangre como si alguien hubiera hecho un fetiche y lo había tirado dentro de mi casa, no sabía que estaba pasando, pero sabía que no era un sueño. Solo pasaron 15 minutos desde que llamé a la policía cuando por fin llego una patrulla a la casa.

La teniente reviso que las ventanas estuvieran aseguradas al igual que la puerta principal no fue dañada, le di el oso y le expliqué de la manera más calmada que no me pertenecía, ella prometió llevarlo a la jefatura y deshacerse de él. A las 2:45 estaba de vuelta en mi cama, revise todo con detalle que no hubiera mas cosas extrañas, y trate de cerrar los ojos, los trate de cerrar por un segundo y volví a oír la risa de un niño.

The Zodiac is Among US

“Who are you?” Said Leann Domingos to the man with the thick glasses. He wasn’t tall, he was 5’10’’, he had a really ugly face that made him look like a blob-fish and smelled like Doritos. She was quite intrigue because she didn’t remember how she got into that hill, but she thought that she recognized it as Slipdown Mountain, she thought she was in Parker County albeit the last memory she had was in Dallas.

The man was completely quiet, he was just there watching her, she was feeling drowsy, tired as she was drugged. “Who are you?” The man didn’t reply he just looked at her with no visible smile except a deadpan face.

She was trying to find her cellphone, but she noticed that she was tied down to a tree, she started to scream but she didn’t have the strength. Everything was so surreal, she wasn’t feeling her body, she was feeling as she was watching everything from far away.

The man moved close to her, she finally saw him with more detail, he was wearing a suit and his shoes were quite elegant, they were quite shiny even if the light was dim around them. He seemed to be a politician, but she wasn’t sure. Again, she saw his face, it was ugly as if someone vomited an In-N-Out Burger and made a sculpture of a blob.

“What do you want from me?” She tried to mutter the words, but the words didn’t come out from her mouth. The man placed her a mask with a symbol that had a circle and overlapping was a plus sign. She then shot her on the head leaving her dead and he took his car and drove away.

The trunk of his car opened and one banner flew away, as the banner shattered again the road the words of the slogan said “Together, we will win” and he drove south, as far as he could go, just hoping that someone would find the body of Leann and let the world know the second generation of the Zodiac was going to rise.

The End Game

The End-Game

Short Story

“What was that?” Lynn started to wonder as the doors of the plane were opening and everyone was asked to jump into the island. Recently Netflix purchased a new format by John de Mol in which 10 teams, comprised of 10 people competed to reach the center stage of an island and in the center stage there was the prize which was $10 million Renminbi or, one million per participant.

As soon the hatches opened, everyone jumped; Lynn was scared, she didn’t knew where she was going but when she saw the island and two more planes dropping people; she realized that the Versus game was a serious thing; the parachutes started to glide everywhere, some of the contestants where going in free fall, they were trying to reach the grounds as quickly as possible.

It was a race in the sky, Lynn started to panic when she realized it was over a 100-people looking for the same objective; she didn’t knew what to expect as soon they hit the land, but when she saw her teammates dissipated to other sides of the island she knew her chances of even reached the goal were diminished to nothing.

As she was reaching her landing point, that it was near an old abandoned town, she started to hearing gun shots and screams, at first, she thought that it was part of the environment but after she saw the other contestants killing each other, she understood that it was a battle royal. She tried to diverge her way from the center and landed in the top of a house; there she stayed for a moment analyzing the situation; she tried to call everyone that was on her team, but she realized the worst, they were dead.

She inferred that part of the rules of the game were that there were no restrictions to reach the goal; and that involved killing people, killing anyone until there was no one except the winners who reached the goal.

It was a macabre experience, 100 people in a battle royal, all in the name of entertainment. She was wondering why she accepted? She was motivated by greed, she was motivated for a quick shot to fame, she then remembered that she had a small tablet similar as an iPod and she could saw the position she was as well the people who were eliminated; she was terrified because at that moment 25 people were eliminated from the competition and were dead; 4 of them were her team mates, other five were missing.

She tried to run as fast as she could to the hills; to hide in between the bushes or find a cave; she was running for her life, she was scared to be shot by someone as no one explained to her what was that game about. She didn’t want the money, she wanted to stay alive and go home with her parents and daughter, she was wondering if they were watching?

She was panicking while running; she found a small shed, she decided to hide there. While closing the door, she found a Glock 26, she took and checked that there were bullets, she was happy. She sat down while she heard people screaming, dying, the bullets, she was having a nervous breakdown.

Then a guy carrying a pickaxe was approaching to her hiding spot; she was preparing to die, she was sitting in a corner fearing for her life; then she realized he was going towards her, probably looking for supplies or something. She didn’t hesitate, she shot him in the head, he fall on the floor dead on the spot; she was crying, asking for forgiveness, she started to think if he had a family? A job? A life? Something…

She apologized to his dead body and grabbed the pickaxe, and started to walk to the designated goal… She didn’t knew what was going to happen to her…

They are Among Us

They are Among Us

By:

Gustavo Calvo-Simmons

We were sitting at the library; outside the world seemed to be in peace but the incidents of the mutants were on the rose, we were hiding as at that moment the city was under Marshall Law and we couldn’t do too much. Besides myself, in the library were Doctor Mendoza and one reporter named Vidal who she used to work for the local television station.

The name of the city was Cartagena, it was located on the north coast of Colombia, also it was one of the last cities in the world where the sights of the mutants were contained. The library was located in downtown, not far away from the sea and just close to one of the avenues that passed above the sea itself.

It was quite of a picturesque city, even after the desolation, you could see people walking and doing business, it gave us some hope in humanity as what it was on the northern hemisphere of the Americas humanity has declined. When we arrived, we were looking for shelter or at least some survivors, we weren’t expecting to see the country standing still, we didn’t even know what to expect but they seemed to be doing a good job keeping their marine borders on check.

I was walking near the library when I realized, the alarms went on; a loud set of roars were not far away. I ran as quickly as I could go, I was feeling they were behind us; the chaos was erupting and people were being trampled by the mutants but I found a way to the library where we secured the gates.

The library was constructed in an old mansion, with walls of stone and a big foyer; there, the three of us we were standing, everyone else seemed to begone and go to some other places to find refuge but we were trying to look what was causing the mutant outbreak.

We were watching from the upper floor the streets; we realized something horrible “the mutants were humans, some of them were humans, but what caused the mutation?” Out of nowhere Doctor Mendoza started to sweat, he was hyperventilating, and he looked incredibly concerned. His last words before his transformation were “I am so sorry, they bite me early”.

He started to change, it was almost instantly, but the paradox became that mutated into a gargantuan being; he was a shadow of his previous self, basically animalistic. I understood, while I was running away from the library, all alone because Vidal got murdered by him before we could react, it was the saliva, it made thought “maybe we are all infected?” As I tried to move away, I saw Dr. Martinez monster growing up in size and I knew my end was near if I had stayed close to him.

My first reaction was to go inside a building but I thought that wouldn’t save me as he was smashing everything on the side, so I went and hid on the side of a wall that was separating the beach from the road. I was exposed to other mutants, but by a faith of luck I survived, I saw Dr. Martinez’s monster ran away north, I just stood there in the darkness, praying to God to not be noticed by other monsters.

The Woods Behind Me

The Woods Behind Me

Short Story

By: Gustavo Calvo

“Who are you?”

“I am nobody, but I am everything”

“Are you Satan?”

“No”

“I am confused”

“I am the void, I exist and I don’t”

“You are God?”

“Neither; I am the one who forms cohesion between everything, between your world and the nothingness”

“Why are you showing in front of me?”

“You are one of the few who can see me”

“Like I am woke?”

“No, that is just pure bullshit; is much as you know I exist and I acknowledge your existence; we understand each other beyond words”

“I understand”

“There is a moment in life, where you realize how fragile everything is; such as this moment, you are here laying on the side of tree. Enjoying this peace and quiet before oblivion comes”

“Death seems to be serene as a presence, but you are quite understanding into talking about the essence of being”

“Death is not as merciful as you think”

“I assume you know they”

“Death wasn’t the one who caused you this; instead you decided to embrace them”

“I wanted to call Death…”

“You became an emissary of they, by embracing your own mortality”

“I couldn’t keep up; now I am fighting to move or breath…”

“Just close your eyes and become one with I”

“One with one of the Elders of the Universe?”

“You can ascend…”

“I have to be hallucinating due the loss of blood”

“No, you are not” The Void became again ethereal and absorbed him; the wind on the top of the trees started to how as if the agony was reaching is peak. His body was left behind near the willow and he became one with the nothingness.

The Gun of the Saint Short Story

The Gun of the Saint

By:

Gustavo Simmons

In the country of Liberatus, there was an ongoing civil war between the East and West, the feelings of separation between the country were every day striking the fragile stability within the republic. Some people were arguing that the federalist ideology was the reason on why the country was crumbling into pieces, others where mentioning that it was on an administrative division on why the civil war started.

A hidden reality between the problematics in the country, is that there was a chase for some ancient artifacts that could give the people who found them a series of skills that could be used to subjugate large groups of population with extreme ease.

The objects were known as the Storm Arcana, 22 in total, each of them had different effects on the users, the myths said the powers that granted were individual but it was the last object, the 22^nd in number that could move mountains without the necessity of having faith.

Part of the myth came that within an area shaped as a hexagon, the body of the first user of the Arcana, a man who used to go by the moniker of Barry exhibited great abilities and it was the last object that was buried with his tomb. Those where the fragments of the legend that made President MacLeod to pursue the artifacts and try to end the civil war that divided the nation beyond the two fragments; as there was a third division within the Central region of Liberatus in which it was a point of neutrality in which every now and then some combats occurred.

That last artifact was known as the Gun of the Saint; it was the treasure the Hunters wanted the most, but also it was the most problematic to obtain, not because of the location but rather it required five of the other artifacts and they were spread also everywhere and much of them weren’t even sure if they really existed.

Donaldson was 21 years old, he was the oldest of 10 children and one of the three that helped his parents with their cattle ranch that was in the middle of West Miames, essentially the lived in a zone where there was no conflict but on occasions several bursts of violence appeared and they were on several occasions to lose the little that they had.

It was December 21^st of 1885, Newton County was in rubbles, Donaldson was running as quickly as he could as the Liberation Fronts were creating chaos around the province, he didn’t know if anyone of his household was dead or alive, he was just worried to find a shelter and try not to be killed.

The attack happened out of nowhere, he was one moment on the town grocery store buying a few items for dinner and suddenly a squad of M.4 Sherman’s came out of nowhere and started aiming at everyone; within a few hours the county was destroyed and the chances of survivors seemed to be one to none.

Donaldson found himself in the Kankakee State Park, he was hiding from the Liberation Army, from what he heard they went to exterminate and conquer Newton County as it was a part of their expansion to finally take over the Federalist government.

The soldiers where on his tail, he didn’t know what to do except for hiding. The park was being surrounded by the armed forces of the counter revolution, he was running out of breath, and he didn’t know where to go or hide so at the he surrendered, even if he didn’t commit any crimes.

“What I had done?” He said.

“Existing, we were ordered to exterminate everyone in this county” The nameless soldier replied.

“Why?”

“None of your business” the soldier aimed his musket but the bullet didn’t hit Donaldson as time froze before his eyes. A wheel was standing in front of him, there were markings in front of the wheel that mentioned life and death, and some others that he couldn’t decipher.

He was enchanted and grateful for that moment, he got saved for some reason and he couldn’t have understood why?

“My child you always been lucky” a disembodied voice appeared from nowhere. “please take this treasure that we give to you” Donaldson touched the wheel, he realized he was in control of other people’s faith but he was wondering if there were going to be some backlash against him”

He touched the wheel and suddenly time regained its flow; he forgot the bullet that was aimed at him and he only heard the noise of it impacting the ground. After that he heard screams “He got one of the treasures”, he knew his life was going to change. 

When We Went to War Chapter One

Chapter One

In the Middle of Nowhere

Where to start? The world political climate changed after the election of the 45^th President of the United States and subsequently his V.P. becoming the 45^th four years later; the Democratic Party was no longer there and America turned into some form of theocracy in which Eugenics and racial purity were advocated by the White Nationalist Party, it was almost as the timeline of Marvel’s comic book Line Old Man Logan.

“What was that?” She asked.

“It’s just the siren, we need to take shelter as soon as possible” He replied.

“The Tu-95’s are coming”

“We are in the middle of nowhere in Red Lodge, Minnesota! How did they reach here?!”

“They are everywhere; we have no choice”

They started to run down the basement with the hopes of not dying in the explosions. They could hear the loud detonations coming from the surface, as they laid in the bottom, they were scared that the next wave could be the last as not many places on Minnesota were infiltrated by the Red Wave of Mother Russia.

“It is over?” He said.

“For now; I can’t hear anything”

“Me neither, let’s go up again”

Both went to the surface again; they saw smoke coming from the town, they thought about going to help as soon as they could but they wanted to see if their herd was OK, as well their edifications in the ranch. Nothing seemed to be wrong, the only thing they didn’t had was connection to the emergency telephone line which they assumed the bombarding destroyed the central that was in the town.

They checked that their truck still had some gas and they rushed to town to help, they were concerned that some relatives could be dead, but they wanted to know if their neighbors were doing OK after the attack of the Russians. Nobody near them seemed to be affected, their suspicions turned right after they noticed the town was mostly destroyed; they were trying to understand why their town became a target? It wasn’t as big as NYC or whatever else was in Washington D.C.

“Oil and water” He said.

“What?” She replied.

“The Russians are behind the mineral resources that we have.”

“What do you say that? Their territory has more than any on Earth, they do not anything”

“They are trying to finally decimate us; contaminate the natural resources and destroy any possible location of oil it will destroy the country last foundations to rise up from the ashes; especially any deposit of drinking water”

“That is quite creepy, the possibility that it happens will kill everyone”

“What can we do?”

“To keep fighting. We have no choice but to keep fighting; we can’t escape to Canada and Mexico anymore, we need to fight” Teresa and Bobby kept driving to the ruins of the small town to help any survivors.

El Golpe de Estado Capitulo Uno

Las Memorias de Nadie

Capitulo Uno

¿Por qué no estoy escribiendo en español y no en inglés? Porque realmente siento que las voces que conformaban este país, el “país de la libertad” han caído bajo la dictadura que fue elegida en el 2016 bajo la elección del colegio de electores. Ese fue el momento de la caída del Imperio, ese fue el momento que no hubo vuelta atrás y Rusia termino consolidada como la primera potencia del mundo más arriba de China.

Se preguntan ¿Por qué Rusia? La razón es muy sencilla, Putin terminó orquestando la caída de los Estados Unidos y solidificando la Revolución Marxista en China y tumbando el pseudo-gobierno libre de Hong Kong. El golpe del mazo de la Unión Soviética le dio fuerte al mundo, pero esta no es solo la historia del mundo y de cómo los Estados Unidos cayeron en el desespero, es la historia de la gente que vieron la ascensión de un nuevo poder económico y los nacionalistas blancos cristianos de la extrema derecha.

Esta historia no empezó en el año 2016 con las elecciones presidenciales y con el país dividido, esta historia fue el proceso político, económico y social que empezó a tomar forma a finales de los años 70 cuando la extrema derecha cristiana cuando de por si eran un grupo minoritario, pero con un poder hegemónico que se concentraba en el “cinturón bíblico” de los Estados Unidos de America, específicamente en el área de Virgina.

Tenemos que entender que, en los años 70, solo sucedió el pináculo de la ideología en manos del Reverendo Jerry Falwell y la fundación de la Mayoría Moral o Moral Majority como se conoce en sus ciclas en Ingles. Hay que saber que el movimiento no se inició con Jerry Falwell pero es aún más viejo que un viaje psicodélico, la idea de que el Cristianismo y sus diferentes denominaciones estaban perseguidas o condenadas ha estado relacionada con el desarrollo expansionista del país y con la introducción de los medios de comunicación como la prensa y sobre todo la radio difusión que dio pie a los movimientos del avivamiento que trataron de influenciar la política a principios del siglo 20 pero solo fue el Reverendo Falwell el que a final de siglo impulso el movimiento en conjunto con el Christian Broadcasting Network.

Fue en los años 80 que los Bautistas Sureños empezaron con la propaganda y con la influencia populista de meterle a los feligreses ideas políticas que estuvieran relacionadas con la interpretación literal de la Biblia del Rey Jaime en una sociedad que no necesitaba ideas de antaño, pero una influencia modernista sobre los derechos humanos y expansión económica.

Los años 80 fue la época de oro para promover la idea que el cristianismo como tal estaba condenado, estaba siendo perseguido y estaba siendo diezmado. Promover la desinformación y justificar el odio contra las minorías raciales y de genero e identidad sexual estaban a la orden del día; la idea que el SIDA era un castigo de Dios para la comunidad LGBT fue promovida por ellos, y el odio justificado contra la comunidad gay era casi un deber en la programación y en el mensaje mediático que estaban mandado

Algunos dirían que los tiempos cambian, porque en los años 90 y con el año 2015 las actitudes cambiaron, al menos en teoría. El matrimonio igualitario se posiciono como derecho fundamental y el intercambio de talento humano creció exponencialmente, pero llego un punto en el año 2010 en el cual las teorías descritas por el autor de ideología neo-nazi Alain de Benoit en el cual la influencia contra el establecimiento político, el multiculturalismo y ser políticamente correcto influenciaron a dos generaciones Americanos sobre “el poderío Imperialista y como los únicos que deberían estar sobre el poder son los Americanos blancos y Protestantes”

Las memorias sencillamente son de nadie, son descritas para luego olvidarse, para repetir los mismos errores y rechazar lo que hizo al país grande que fue la inmigración, pero al mismo tiempo lo que extermino a las poblaciones aborígenes de la parte norte del continente. En si las memorias estas ligadas con el Excepcionalísimo Americano y con la Doctrina del Destino Manifesto, que de pronto explicaría en parte el odio como personas como Donald Trump y Steve Bannon le tienen a los mexicanos y otras poblaciones Hispanoparlantes.

El odio no es nuevo, ha estado cultivándose por diferentes generaciones, creciendo lentamente, pasando de padre a hijo y poniendo siempre la idea de que una raza es superior a la otra pero que no se puede comentar en voz alta, hasta el año 2015 cuando la carrera a la presidencia empezó y de repente esas voces del silencio y odio tuvieron un canal para comunicarse abiertamente y un grupo de políticos que los representaban.

Es escabroso pensarlo, pero se veía venir. Se vio venir y nada pudo pararlo, el mismo Trump le dio un nombre El Tren del Triunfo o Trump Train como era conocido en Ingles, casi similar al slogan de la Segunda Guerra Mundial para promover el fascismo alrededor de Europa, ese fue el pináculo del Nacionalismo Americano, vino en un traje y corbata hechos en China y con unas palabras que al final del día no significaban nada a favor de un desarrollo económico y social.

Ahora ha pasado un año y dos meses desde el inicio de la presidencia y la situación económica y social ha desmejorado; realmente ya no se puede hablar mucho de la “tierra de las oportunidades” y de la libertad de expresión; realmente no hay libertad de expresión. No se puede criticar a la Presidencia porque uno puede parar a la cárcel por traición, no se sabe que pasa en la Casa Blanca ya que la prensa no está permitida… pensar que El Washington Post cerró sus puertas porque fueron considerados subversivos por miembros del congreso, pensar que estos son los Estados Unidos del siglo veintiuno.

Hold onto Me

Hold onto Me

Short Story

By: Gustavo Simmons

There was a moment where time just became a mere illusion, the perception of self was another mirage which was linked to the sensuous system of the brain. Yesterday comes today, and the future becomes a tangible thing that ceased to exist. Understanding time can be a complex theory, especially when you aren’t attached to it.

Just to think on the multiple timeliness and suddenly “jump” from one point to the other and even recreate the universe when the universe reached the point of extinction. He was a “god” among men, with an impossibility to avoid death, just by resetting the “switch around him” but there were two flaws towards his recreation of the universe the first one being that no matter what, he would return to the age he was on the year he leaped and the second flaw it was that the three people he treasured the most were preset to be lost in the time-stream.

At first he just started to jump on different timelines, different places across the multiverse, it was just an adventure, then he fall in love with a guy who lived in a small countryside town, a very nice guy whom he visited on several occasions; then when tragedy happened and the guy who he fall in love died in his sleep, it was the moment that he realized he could turn back in time and space; essentially creating a new timeline in the preset universe.

The first morning that he went back, he went back further in time, he went to 1996, he was back in Colombia and he found himself back on the sixth grade. He couldn’t believe that he was so far in time, mostly because when he traveled between different coordinates it was only days apart but on different historical settings. Traveling around the continuum always gave him different ideas about how history could turn to be, but doing the feature of resetting a timeline, his own timeline was something he never imagined.

He knew he was born with that ability and every time he traveled he never influenced on any outcomes of the timelines he visited, he just was there to learn about history of the world from different perspectives. What if with the creation of a new timeline, the repercussions would be catastrophic? One life that you save would equal a life that would die? Or for every action you take when the timeline resets you are destined to live a life of misery and solitude?

Yet, he didn’t care, he just wanted to be with him, he wanted to be there for him. He became his anchor to reality, no matter what reality he created he always recreated him. Him, became the person he tried to save, to hold onto after he met his death thousands of times, was alive in each recreation and new timeline.

Still, he was alone, alone in between a sea of people he met and interacted with, and with his out of the world powers he always wanted to go back to him, because with him he was only happy, happy as he never was before.

A Slice of Pizza

A Slice of Pizza

Short Story

By: Gustavo Simmons

A long time ago, there were seven beings who were manifestations of the inner darkest emotions of humanity. Intangible beings, who had the ability to manipulate the emotions of beings… at the end, these beings were sent to the mortal plane to live an existence of life and death because of the sins the committed and the sins they turned.

Lust, Wrath, Pride, Gluttony, Envy, Greed and Sloth were among us, among humanity. The cycle came every 90 years; all of them would live and die on the same day and time, the only exception was that all they were going to be born on different locations around the world but after 20 years of living they would gather on one random place and live near of the same city or country.

That was the mythos of the Seven, a mythos that everyone over time forgot. Yet, two of them were eating a pizza on the outskirts of Tampa, Florida.

It was a Sunday, January the 6^th of 2002. They didn’t have a name; but they were old friends and brothers, part of the cabal. Two of the they, Pride and Wrath were sitting as they did for eons. On this life, Pride was born in North Carolina, while Wrath was born in Colombia. They look as they could be related but their flesh was far away from being related. Pride was tall and skinny, he had many tattoos based on Star Wars and The Legend of Zelda; Wrath was short and stubby, almost physically inept. Yet, they were two of the most powerful beings in the universe, each of them able to manipulate emotions and life beyond death.

“It’s been a while my brother, how did you discovered this place?”

“Cappy’s? I used to come here when I was younger on this life. Probably one of the best pizzerias in Tampa”

“I see” Said Wrath while eating a slice of cheese.

“Do you think the population will accept the new order in world?”

“No, they will revolt again. It will happen a similar scenario that repeats itself every 110 years”

“Explain yourself” Said Pride.

“Franz Ferdinand, Kennedy, just to name a few. Humanity, even in some way we are part of it, it always finds a way to go forward, we as beings who are able to exist beyond death, beings who are agents that manipulate humanity to achieve certain future, we can’t control them, we can’t even control the outcomes” Replied Wrath while cleaning his mouth.

 “You are right, much of the time, we can only sit down and enjoy this show while we eat pizza. I wonder what is on the news right now?”

“Who knows, but I heard there is a bloody protest on Washington D.C. and Ereshkigal is having a feast of souls right now”

Wrath just simply smiled.

The Dharma Incentive

The Dharma Incentive

Short Story

By:

Gustavo Simmons

There was a cosmic order between the chaos that ruled the universe; yet, dying seemed to be impossible. The memories of thousands of other lives, where we achieved conscious were still there, the problem became that a being who had no name, a being who ruled the principles of the multiverse, “the one who was above all” placed as a rule No being would remember, unless that person has achieved some form of Nirvana, even so that being was beyond the Samsara.

Why I can remember? Every single dead, every single moment of agony, the moment of birth, even so this Kami was playing a cruel joke as there was no faith, nor enlighten coming from my part. I was a man who lacked faith, a man who believed in the principles of entropy and chaos as a standalone concept beyond any divine principles; nevertheless, every single memory of my life was as a playback.

There was a catch, every single moment of reincarnation I was again myself. I was the person who was, the person who remembered from the experiences, the person who committed suicide and the person who died in the riots of 2017 while protesting in the White House on December 12^th. I was sent to the same point in time, April 22^nd of 1984, it was fixed, it was set, born in the same city in Colombia, born near the ocean, living the same point in time for 23 years.

23 years in which there was some form of prison, a prison without walls, just a prison with geographical boundaries. The rules of the cosmos where punishing me for something that after reliving the same moments over and over but with different outcomes before death.

Death is such a sweet treasure, is such a beautiful moment in which we are not bounded to the planes of existence, we just cease to exist on the flesh and we transform into a metaphysical concept that is just far away beyond comprehension. What a beautiful moment, indeed it is, yet birth is more painful, is such a pain; the overload stimuli is just worse than anything else.

After death, there is birth, the world is brand a new, the world is such an amazing place when you are child, still when you have the memories of a 37-year-old man inside a 7-year-old body, no one will take you seriously even if they consider you past beyond your years. What a burden is to live, but what a burden is to always remember everything, yet to live to the fullest and not to fill emotions.

Why this being that knows everything keeps punishing me? Sending me back to the same moment in time to make me have faith and “help” achieve the precious gift of death? Probably is an eternal punishment because I didn’t hesitate to take the precious gift he gave to everyone, life. I never minded, I seriously never minded life. You could take it with just a bullet, a knife or your hands. You could ruin a life by playing with someone’s emotions and feel no remorse.

I violated the Dharma; at least that is the term I like to use, the basic principles of the cosmos that were given by Lord Buddha, and they weren’t that difficult because “it” hated when someone denied his existence… I was punished because I was an offender of the Dharma, of the Commandments or whatever you want to call it.