Matthew R. Stitt // The Writer’s Archive

Category: Monster Stories

This category displays the short stories that have yet been incorporated into the Kingsboro world.

  • The man called Anger

    My mission tonight.. visualize anger.

    A tower of muscle and testosterone.  His skin burns red and orange like a flame burns slowly just under the surface of his skin.  His face is screwed inward forcing his lips to purse.

    A thunderstorm of emotion waits within the muscular structure of the big man but he sits and he waits patiently.  This is the thing with Anger.  He is patient.  He will wait…

    Anger stands behind me, hovering over me and waiting for just the right moment to step in.

    “I got you, bro” He assures me as life punches me in the gut multiple times.

    “I can handle this,” he offers but I decline.  “Bro, you need some backup.  I got this.  I can punish with the best of them other emotions.”

    The situation gets dire and I’m tired and sick.  My own strength is waning as Anger grows bigger.  Soon he is twice his size and towers over me.

    “I’m done asking,” his says.  His voice booms as he shoves me to the side.  Lightning bursts from the sky above me as thunder shakes the ground beneath me.  Others tremble in fear or run from Anger as he tears through the world.  Within moments,  it’s over I stand up.  The large man, that was Anger is gone.  Nowhere to be seen.  The village beneath me burns.  The small homes fall apart leaving only the skeletal remains.  The world is set ablaze and the man that did it is gone leaving only me to take on the responsibility.  So…

    I do what I have to do whenever Anger gets involved and fall to my knees to pick up the pieces that he destroyed.

  • The Shadow man

    The horizon raced ahead as Eric drove between the trees of an old country road.

    It was midnight on a Sunday.  Work would appear early in the morning.

    Eric pushed on the gas and the car surged forward.  The trees blurred and he gobbled up the road.

    Intuition made him slow as he imagined the impact of deer bones upon the small hood of his small Ford.

    A shadow on the left caused him to search through the darkness.

    Eric focused on the road ahead.  The road twisted right then left.  Eric allowed the car to wander left then right as he hit the curves faster than he should.

    The road was straight and his house waited only a pair of miles ahead.  Eric pushed the gas then slowed as something approached again from the left.

    Eric searched the trees but saw nothing.

    Another hint and he slowed further.  He was now growing paranoid and searched both the left and the right.

    A shadow on the right alerted him and he pumped the brakes followed by another on the left.  Something was out there but he couldn’t make it out.

    Deer appeared moments after appearing as a shadow.  Eric saw nothing that gave him any clue.

    Another shadow and a sudden thump.

    Eric freaked and pushed the brake hard.  A gigantic, semi-opaque creature stepped from the trees.  It was taller than the trees but hard to see in the darkness.  Eric could make out the frame of the creature reflected of the dull light of the moon. The creature stepped into the road with a thump.  Eric stopped the car a couple feet from the stomp of this creature.  He craned his neck backward and up to try to see ‘whatever this was’ through the windshield.  He could only make out the hint of a solid form.

    Erik watched the large black foot stand upon the ball of it’s feet as it brought in the other foot.

    Eric was unable to react fast enough as the second foot wrapped over the hood of his small Ford and crushed it.  The metal screamed as the creature pushed it down.

    Eric stepped from the car and stared.  It was a gigantic shadow of a man.  Stood twenty-five foot tall, at least.  It’s legs were box-like and so were the arms.  It waved the arms forward like it was strolling through the park on the way to someplace important.

    Eric watched as the shadow man walked through the trees on the right side of the road.  His car wrecked he called his wife and recalled the incident.  His wife laughed the story sounded unrealistic.  Eric demanded that she drive to him to see and waited.

  • Hard boiled – Saint and Company

    “See, I just poofed my candle on.”

    “That’s preety cool, Lou.  Can you make it bigger?”

    “Are you serious?  Is that all you think about it that and the woman you use it on?”

    “Dude, think what I can do.”

    “Stop that thought.  I just saw a woman pass by the door.  I think she’ll come back around.  Probably lost.”

    “I can find her for you, Lou.”

    “No, sit your sick ass on the seat and shut up.  I’ll find her.”

    Louis Saint stood from behind his desk. Books, cups and beer cans fell from his desk.  He stepped over the trash and around his desk to the door.  He opened the and stepped out into the dim, lit hallway.

    She stood twenty feet from him and cupped her hands over the dirty glass of the door next door.  A beautiful woman, far surpassing the dingy apartment slash business condo Lou and Jed worked in.  He swallowed hard before he spoke and almost swallowed the few words he was able to say.

    “Excuse me, are you looking for a…”  Lou stopped and his jaw fell loose.  The woman, so beautiful from the expensive pumps on her feet to the perfect white blouse, stared at him with greenish eyes.  The irises with the eyes extended horizontally.  Her nose was large and extended forward.  Her skin struck with orange hair and black stripes.

    “I’m looking for Saint detective agency.  Can you help me?”  She asked.  Her voice sweet behind a pair of sharp, meat-eating incisors.

    “Um, certainly.”  Lou said, stumbling a bit.

    “Hey, is she hot!”  Jed asked loudly.  Lou tried to ignore him then recalled what the room looked like.  The beautiful tiger woman began to walk toward him and Lou stuck his head back into the room.  Large piles of trash lie in the corners of his office.  His desk was partially buried in paper and beer cans.

    “Get the desk cleared off.”  Lou said between his teeth.  Jed stood up immediately and began to shove the trash upon the floor.  Lou winced and partially closed the door.  The woman stood in front of him.

    “Is there a problem?”  She said.

    “You know.. ”  Lou stalled. “My office is not very clean.”

    “It’s Ok, Mr. Saint.. I assume.  This whole building is not very clean.”

    “That is very true.. well if you would like.  You can have a seat in front of my desk.”

    “Yes, please.”

    Lou Saint stepped to the side and heard a crash.  He stepped into the room to see Jed struggling to stand after falling from his chair.

    “Excuse my partner.  He is a bit clumsy.”

    The tiger woman kept quiet.  Adjusted her skirt and stood in front of Lou’s desk.

    “So what can I do for you?”  Lou said.

    “Well, I may have killed my husband.”

  • Terrence, the terrible

    They called him Terrence, the terrible.  An oaf of a man that stood eight-foot tall on a bad day and ten-foot tall on a good day.  He was a giant in a world of four-foot tiny men and woman.  Terrence did not enjoy towering over the others in the village.  He didn’t enjoy much.  His height was a curse brought on my Mother Earth to punish his mother.  His mother, bless her soul, died during childbirth and this stain colored his mood for life.

    Terrence lived on the outskirts of the village.  A carved out hole in the side of Mt. Hope served as a home for Terrence.  Most nights he would sit outside the carved out hole and stare at the village.  Stare at the people that were once his family.  “Well, they were never his family”, Terrence corrected his thought.  They removed him from his home when he was only two years old.  He had barely quit nursing, from a foster mother that appeared on a regular basis every couple hours.  The nurses shared the responsibilities of raising Terrence from birth.  They often made it clear that Terrence was lucky to be alive after killing his mother.

    “It was a rough life”, Terrence thought as a fly circled his right ear.  The buzz drove him nuts as his right eye twitched and then moved to follow the little winged creature.  Terrence’s height wasn’t the only trait that mysterious cursed his body.  His head was squared and his eyes sat along the sides of his head.  His ears were large and the tops hung downward.  The fly flew within inches of Terrence’s right eye and paused in flight.  The fly examined the strange spherical sight in front of him.  The translucent globe that followed its every move.  “Friend of Foe,” thought the fly till a long wet tongue wrapped itself around the fly.  The tiny morsel, that was the fly, screamed its fly scream then passed out from fright.

    Terrence chewed on the fly for moments then swallowed it.  He then stood, turned and walked into the hole that was his home.

     

  • Woodsilver

    Thump…

    Alex stared forward.  The Buick fell from above but it felt like a large bump in the road.  In front of him was a crop of trees on the left and right and a strip of asphalt in the center.

    “Wasn’t I just here?”  Alex thought.  A worn sign swung from the right side of the road.  It was bent mid-height.

    The Buick had quit during the fall.  Alex turned the key, started the Buick and began forward.  He picked up speed as he watched the trees flip past him.  The fall quickly became a curiosity when Alex approached Woodsilver.  The Quarter Bar quickly approached on the left and Leo’s was on the right.  Alex pulled into Leo’s and parked next to a silver plated gas dispenser.  He opened the door to step out but someone approached.  Alex looked up and squinted at the hair-covered chest of a horse-like creature.  He paused.  Frozen with the unfamiliarity of the situation.

    “Can I fill you up, sir?”

    Alex stared at the long, thin, brown legs then the round chest of the horse.  Above the chest was a hair covered human chest and arms.  The face of the horse-like creature was young.  It matched a young human adult just out of highschool.

    “Sir, can I help you out?”

    Alex stuttered and finally said yes.  He watched, his door partially open, as the horse-like creature placed the nozzle into the Buick and started the pump.

    “Can I wash your windows?”

    “Uhm, sure.” Alex stood and looked into the large front window of Leo’s and found several creatures milling around the small c-store beside the road.

    A mouse-like creature stood behind the counter.  It’s nose protruded half a foot from his fur covered face.  A large abominable snowman checked out several items and placed them on the counter.

    “So how long have you been here, sir?”  Asked the horse-like creature.

    Alex stood silent for several seconds then responded.  “Barely ten minutes.”

    “That’s what I thought.  My name is Benny.  Welcome to Woodsilver.”  Benny offered a hand and Alex automatically shook it but then paused.

    “This isn’t Woodsilver.”

    “I don’t know how you got here.  No one ever knows but this is Woodsilver and you’re here.”

    “Obviously.”

    The gas nozzle clicked and Alex stepped over to it and removed it.  He looked at the dispenser, checked the amount and offered Benny his credit card.

    “That’s not going to work here.”

    “Of course but I only have ten dollars cash.”  Erik searched his wallet and pulled out the thin bill.

    “That does not work here either.”  Benny stood and smiled.  He wasn’t at all surprised that Alex had no silver. No one ever did when they entered Woodsilver.  “I can cover this for you.”  Benny offered.  “But I will need a favor.”

  • Three o’clock in the morning

    Three o’clock on a Sunday morning was usually quiet but this morning it was shattered by the spinning wheels of Alex Boxer’s red Buick.  He held the brake and worked the wheel as he waited for the right moment to let go.  A pair of headlights crested over the large hill behind him.  Alex released the brake and held tight to the wheel.  The Buick twisted through the intersection.

    Gotlingburg disappeared within moments.  Alex growled as he sped past his home town.  The trees blurred within the darkness of the early morning.  Alex was heading to Pottsburg.  A larger city stuck in the Midwest tract of corn and wheat farms.  A job sat waiting for him.  Some sloppy factory job that involved nasty chemicals and standing all day but it was miles from Gotlingburg.

    Alex noticed the familiar colored lights of a police cruiser.  “My god, man,” he told himself.  “This town will not let me go.”  Alex pushed the Buick forward.  The lights hung far from him and seemed to hang midair as the lights crested over another hill.  Alex began up a hill himself and slowed near the top.  He knew at this speed he wouldn’t stay on the ground.  He slowed but the hill crested faster than he expected and the Buick set off as the ground fell away.  Everything within the car, including Alex’s heart shot to the ceiling.  The Buick fell toward the ground nearly twenty-five feet from the crest of the hill.  The ground seemed hundreds of feet below.  Alex braced for impact as the ground raced to meet him but it never came.  The Buick sank into the ground.  The road folded underneath him and disappeared into darkness.  Alex watched as the scene above him disappeared.  He watched the road contour and disappear into the night sky.

  • Having a Grumpy day

    I’m in a terrible mood.  I have a good idea what it is but this is a writer’s blog and not a complainers blog.. so…

    Terence was a big man.  Monstrous in comparison to other 8 foot giants.  What am I kidding, Terence was unique and nothing else compared to the size and girth of the man.  Hell, he was barely a man anymore.

    In the Army he had his legs ripped from him.  Replacing them were steel posts shaped into muscular mechanisms.  These were not the thin blades or the leg cover ups that others got.  These were leg replacements provided by some secret mad scientist off the coast of Some-young island.  They were attached to nerves near the end of his stubs.  The legs were permanent but he could remove them easily but that’s not Terence’s only change.  A steel plate was attached to the right side of his face and an additional plate buried under a plot of hair right above it.  With all the robotics the clinic was unable to save his right arm.  It was void of muscle and dangled against his side.

    It was insane to be pissed off at an arm but Terence hated his arm.  The minuscule rod hung from his shoulder and it enraged him.  The fact that he had to look at it even set him off.  Terence did have a fully functional left arm.  It was the only original limb left on his body but it was only a memory of times before he didn’t want to recall.  A time when he was just human.

    Terence stepped from his apartment, ducking under the door frame and into the steel-plated world of Platonic.  Everything shimmered in the early morning light.  Everything but Terence.  Forever a grump Terence growled at the pleasantries of every day life.  “Get away from me,” he shouted as a familiar pattern tap..tapped up to him.

    “Hi Terence,”  said a small voice.  “I told you to leave me alone.”  Terence insisted.

    Terence passed several people and heard no reply.  He swallowed his anger and looked back.  A small girl walked behind him smiling and perky as ever.  Terence tried not to smile but it slid in behind his growl.  “Why?  Tell  me why?”

    “Cause I like you?”  The little girl said.  “That’s not a reason,” Terence replied.

    “Yes, it is.”

    Terence grumbled and continued walking.  “Where you going?”

    “I’m going to work,” Terence replied.  “I bet you get there really fast. Cause you have super legs.”

    “I guess.”

    “My friend has super legs.  Hi… my friend has super legs.”

    “What are you doing?”  Terence turns and looks as the little girl shares her glee with other city residents.  “I’m sorry,” the little girls says with a pout.  “Listen…”  Terence turns.  He kneels and still stares down at her.

    “I’m not a friendly Platonic resident.  I don’t like people.  I would rather be left alone.  Please go.”  The little girl smiled.  “Why are you smiling?”  Terence asked.

    “You didn’t say to don’t like me.  I think you like me.”  Terence wanted to grumble.  He wanted to scream but he couldn’t.  This little girl was a distraction and Terence appreciated the distraction.

    Terence stood and began to walk again.  “Don’t you have a family?”

  • The Murder of Big Mouth Billy Strokes

    The metal bar made a loud thump as Michael swung and struck Billy Stokes in the side of the head.  A crunch followed as the metal bar crushed the thin skull within the forty-year old’s gruff face and head.  Michael followed the momentum of the metal bar to the right as it struck and fell.

    “Big Mouth Billy Strokes”, as he was often called fell to the ground.  He did not hold his head or speak a word.  He lay motionless upon the darkening front yard of Michael’s home.  Michael dropped the pipe and stared at the unconscious man.  His anger stewed as he watched Billy.  After several long moments Michael spoke.

    “There!” he shouted.  “What do you think of that!”

    “You won’t have anything to say for a while now.  I’m not even going to try to wake you up.”  Michael then turned and left.  He opened the screen door of his small single-story home.  A car passed quickly by the front yard.  Michael turned quickly.  “God damn drivers speeding past my damn house.  I swear they don’t see a damn thing.”  He entered the house and slammed the door.

    Michael lived alone in this house.  Anyone with any sense stayed away, at least that’s what Michael thought.  Dinner was a simply a refrigerated bag of McDonald’s Big Macs.  Michael bought two every Wednesday and saved them for dinner.  Michael warmed the sandwiches in the microwave and sat down to eat them.  He caught sight of Billy’s car through the corner of his eye.

    Billy was a local drunk that would stumble into Michael’s home from time to time.  Most days, Michael didn’t mind but tonight Billy was belligerent and upset over the death of his mother.  “Of course, the first thing he did was visit me,” Michael thought then cursed.

    After dinner Michael washed up a couple dishes and stared out into the front yard.  He noticed that Billy had moved from lying on his back to sitting with his ass in the air and his hand forward.  “What a weird position?”  Michael thought as he washed the bowls without looking away from the man in the yard.  The sun had fallen over the horizon and night was approaching fast.  Another car approached.  The light of it’s headlights illuminated the front yard.  Peaking through the worn out, old, white fence.  Billy struggled to move sliding up and out like a human inch-worm.  The car approached.  Billy placed his hands upon the ground and pushed.  The light from the headlights pushed through the posts and crept across the small pond that sat within the front yard.  Billy fell to the side and rolled partially into the pond.  His head disappeared within the water.  The car sped past and disappeared.

    Still angry Michael stood quietly waiting for Billy to move.  He would likely drown but it wouldn’t be for a minute or so more.  Billy didn’t move and lay, head back, within the pool of water.  “Ok, fine,” Michael said as he rushed out the front door.  Another car approached and Michael froze.  He didn’t want to attract any attention to himself.  The people in this little town are up to their noses in neighborly crap, he thought.  The car passed without incident and Michael stepped forward quickly.  He lifted Billy from the pond and noticed his eyes had become bleached and his skin was pale.  The man was dead.

    Michael sat upon the yard.  The darkness fell over him and day had turned to night.  His mind slowly churned over the consequences of his actions.  Excuses quickly filled the void as he tried to explain what happened.  He settled on self-defense.  “The man had attacked him”, he thought.  “Why wouldn’t anyone believe him.  “Billy was obnoxious and always drunk.”

    “Fine,” he concluded and stood up.  Another car passed the house and fear shot through every muscle.  “What if someone see’s the body?  They will call the police before I have a chance to explain.  I will not have a chance.”  Michael decides to push Billy into the pond.  He reasoned that Billy just rolled into the water after Michael hit him.  The water would hide the body till Michael could call the police.

    Michael pushed the body forward but it was only half-buried it.  A car approached.  The driver would likely see Michael in the front yard, in the dark.  Michael leapt for a group of bushes and waited for the car to pass.  He then grabbed Billy by the feet and dragged him clockwise till his feet mostly disappeared in the water.  He looked up and noticed Billy’s back and head now reappeared out of the water.  “Son of a Bitch.”

    Michael walked to Billy’s chest and shoved it.  The body rolled and most of chest and head disappeared.  “Damn it,” Billy shouted as he fell partially into the water.  Another car approached then slowed.  The right blinker began to flash.  “No, not now,” Michael thought.  “Damn.”

    Michael ran across the front yard seconds ahead of the cone of light from the approaching car.  Old age pawed at his knees and attempted to make him fall but he made it to the corner of the house.  The car pulled into the driveway and illuminated the front of the house.  The pond was several yards away and the light was far from it.   Michael enter the back of the house and circled around to the front to find the car had left.  “What the hell!”  He shouted.  “What the god damn hell!”

    Often the drivers would use his driveway as a turn around and head the other direction.  Michael cursed for several minutes then sat down upon the small kitchen table.  He pulled a bottle of whiskey from the center of the table and poured a glass.  “The first swallow was always the hardest,” he thought as the liquid burned through his throat.  “The second, not so much.”  Michael nursed the drink and thought about the scenarios.  “The cops, the family the neighbors.  Everyone would want to know what happen.  Everyone would want to get to know him.”  This infuriated Michael because he spend his entire life avoiding any connections.  Any trouble at all.  He hated people and despised any sort of attention.

    The phone vibrated in Michael’s jeans and he slid it from the pocket.  It was a birthday update for Billy Stokes.  “Really?”  Michael thought then moments later began to call the police.  His body shook violently as he explained to the operator that he had avoided a punch and struck Billy with an iron pipe.  Billy then fell into the pond and drowned.  “Alright Michael, officers will be at your home shortly to collect your statement.  Please stay on the line with me.”  Michael obeyed but stood from the table.  He walked to the front window of the house and looked out into the yard.  The yard was dark and he could not see the pond within the yard.  He wondered if the body was Ok.  “Could Billy still be alive,” he thought.  It was then that someone stumbled into his home through the front door.  Michael turned to see Billy hunched over and holding the corner of the kitchen wall.  “What the hell,” Michael shouted.  “Are you Ok, Michael?”  Said the operator.  “I’m fine.”

    Michael watched as Billy stood slowly.  He used the wall to stand straight.  Then turned at once.  His head chest and legs all turned at the same time.  Reflecting off the ceiling lights Michael noticed Billy’s eyes were still bleached.  Billy’s clothing was wet and his skin was still pale.  Within moments Billy was upon Michael and death followed.  Billy easily twisted Michael’s neck and severed the brain from the spine.  Billy then fell forward and expired.

    “Michael?  Michael, are you there?  Mr. Redding?  Michael Redding?”  Said the phone operator as it sat next to both bodies.

  • Authors Anxiety but the Preacher’s brew

    I’m in a bit of an anxious mess here lately.  I’ve realized that I delay a lot of stuff.  Why?

    I don’t know maybe it’s an unconscious why of failing at stuff.  Anyways, as much as I want to belly ache about stuff on my blog I really want to avoid it.  It should be something fun to read.

    I’m working on a second piece to the Zeus’ preacher.  I really had nothing else planned for it but it’s a really cool idea, my opinion of course.

    —–

    John Paul sat within the small room that served as his office and rested his face upon his hands.  Sandy, his 16 year old daughter walked past the door and stopped.

    “Dad, what’s going on?  Your acting like a odd-ball.”

    John Paul laughed silently and raised his head.  “You, so young and innocent of the world.  How can you possible understand the weight of something you haven’t dealt with.”

    Sandy’s face fell slightly, “how can you be so arrogant to believe I have no weight upon my young shoulders.”

    John Paul froze.  He had not expected an intelligent response but he virtually slapped himself because he should of.  Sandy had always been sharp and intuitive which was possibly why their relationship was tense at times.  John Paul struggled to understand the politics between young and old.  He had fallen into a familiar pattern.

    “Anyways,” said Sandy with a smile.  “The firemen left.  The fire burned barely an acre of the corn.  “That’s good… I guess,” John Paul said swallowing some guilt.  “I will have to apologize to Mr. Erickson when he returns from his mother’s house.

    Sandy stood silent.  John Paul look away thinking then realizing she was waiting asks.  “Did you want to ask my something?”

    Sandy hemmed for several seconds, “Umm… why does no one know about your brother?”

    John Paul stood, “I lost my brother years ago.  I thought he had passed in a fire.”

    Sandy studied her father, “Why are you lying?”  John Paul tried not to react.  The question caught him off guard.  “My brother had passed in a fire when we were boys.  I don’t care to recall the details.”  Sandy squawked and turned abruptly.  “A-hole.”

    “What!”  John Paul replied and began to follow her but stopped.  He was a bit abrupt, he thought but she did not need to resort to name calling.  “His brother,” he thought, “had started something that was long brewing.”

  • Zeus’ Preacher

    I thought I’d start something new.  It’s simply just a way for me to post more.  300 word minimum journal-like posts.

    “Kaboom!”  Lightening cracked loudly as thunder boomed within the small Western Baptist church.  John Paul stood upon the stage with his hands outstretched.  The lightening stuck his left hand and the electricity shocked the young preacher hair.  “Yes, my well intention-ed parishioners,” he began as the lightening disappeared and the thunder boomed throughout the room.  “There will be a reckoning and it will be soon…” Another bolt of lightening struck both hands.  “All of you sinners stand up… I said stand up!”  Shouted the preacher and thunder crashed over him.  Outside of the pulpit a small congregation quickly stood.  Every one of the thirteen members of the church stood.  “Yes!”  John Paul shouted.  “Yes!”

    The congregation repeated praise but it was a timid praise.  This new preacher was terrifying.  It was never the fire and brimstone sermons like it was from the church down the road.  Western Baptist had a mad preacher… at least that’s what John Paul like to call himself.  “Mad as hell,” he would say.  “Mad as hell that he couldn’t save everyone in the world.”  Outside of church John Paul was a kind man about 32 years old.  He was timid and barely spoke a word.  When he did it was always kind and gentle.  When he stepped upon the pulpit this timid man became a force to be reckoned with.  The problem was his congregation was terrified of him.  The lightening and the thunder followed him everywhere.  He tried for years to talk gently but the energy would build within him and soon he was be shooting light and making noise throughout the church.  It wasn’t just the church that heard it either.  Others outside the church heard it too.  The thunderous praise of Zeus’ preacher.  Granted Zeus was a pagan god but the fact that John Paul captured the lightening made losing the moniker very difficult.  He once fought to force people to stop calling him Zeus’ preacher due to the contradiction but he became angry and the storm quickly followed.  It would be something he had to live with.

    Sunday afternoon John Paul stood outside Western Baptist church saying goodbye to his remaining parishioners when a man approached it.  “How are you doing, brother?”  John Paul quickly added with a smile.  “I’m doing just fine, preacher.”  The man paused.  His eyes did not shift from his gaze and he met John Paul’s gaze.  “I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you, John Paul.  I am your brother Martin.”

    John Paul stopped.  The world disappeared for several moments as he took in this news.  Once he swallowed the news he spoke.  “I’m sorry… Martin…” He stammered.  “My brother died with I was 10 years old.  Taken by fire near our home several hours from here.  He is now with the Lord.”

    The man, Martin, stared into John Paul’s eyes and didn’t flinch.  “You are wrong brother.  I was not taken by fire.  I was reborn of that fire.  I was then taken but now I have returned.”  “That’s impossible.”  John Paul argued.  Your body was buri…”  John Paul then realized that the funeral was a strange moment in his life.  Outside of the detached feelings John Paul had always felt he realized that no one had ever approached the casket.  John Paul had never seen Martin’s body.  It was possible that this was… “It’s not possible,” John Paul said suddenly.  “Did you ever wonder why tragedy always followed the family brother?”  Martin said as his gaze slowly broke and followed a young couple as they climbed slowly down the steps to the street below the church.  The couple seemed startled by the gaze and jerked away.  “It’s funny,” Martin began.  “Your a preacher and I am well… I am me.”

    “People are frightened of you?”  John Paul replied as he watch the couple disappear into a small car.  “People are frightened of both of us.”

    “No brother,” John Paul replied confidently.  “I do the Lord’s work.”

    “Yes you do brother but we both know we can do better then that.”  Martin then turned and left.  John Paul watched as he disappeared into a field of tall grass.  The tall reeds of grass falling in sequence as Martin stepped upon them.  Then suddenly a small circular area of the grass burst into flames sending people scurrying to call the fire department.  John Paul stood watching.  The world he knew burst from under him.