Honor the Limit

This story was supposed to be about Limits, with an added twist of a word limit of 500. If I counted right it came out at 298.

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Djari was surprised to see the patrol cruiser as his skiff exited the reserve. It was probably just a random patrol, nothing to worry about. Still, he was more than a little nervous as the officer flagged him down.

"May I come aboard?"

"Uh-of course."

Djari offered the officer a hand as he stepped onto his craft. "So, how can I be of service?"

"The officer did not smile. It was then that Djari saw the insignia of a game warden. He swallowed.

"Been doing some angling?" the warden asked.

"Yes, sir, an excellent..."

"May I see your license, please?"

Djari fumbled through his things and managed to produce the license. He was glad it was current.

The warden gave it the once over. "This seems in order. Any luck today?"

Djari felt his hopes rise. He shrugged, trying to be non-chalant. "A few keepers."

"I'd love to see them."

"Uhm..."

"Is this your live well?"

Djari tried to stop him, but the warden hit the button and the lid to the live well sprang open. Inside were four human bodies, each in its own compartment. The warden scowled.

Djari yelped. "I can explain."

"Citizen," the warden said, his voice harsh, "Are you aware that there is a monthly limit of two humans allowed to be taken from this planet?"

"Really? I..."

"In addition, the child there is obviously too small. It is impossible it measures 14 karnaks."

"I didn't have a measuring device."

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to confiscate your catch and release them back to the planet. You have their abduction coordinates?"

Djari sighed. "Yes."

"Good. Due to this oversight I'm going to fine you 3000 doftali and restrict your activity on Earth to Martians."

"But the Martians are so...tame."

"Be that as it may," the warden said, processing the ticket. "Maybe next time you'll honor the limit."

"The Box on the Porch"

"Hey, Eleni. What's that?" Dori pointed at the far end of the portico.

Eleni paused in her weeding of the temple's front flower bed. She put a hand across her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun. The object was tucked into a corner, hidden from the noonday sun by the portico's tiled roof, and shrouded in shadow.

"I have no idea."

"Well it wasn't there when we came out this morning." Dori got to her feet.

"Dori, don't. It isn't our place to look. We're supposed to finish weeding this bed before lunch."

"It won't take long." Dori brushed off her hands on the front of her acolyte's dress, smearing dirt and debris across the fabric. Eleni sighed. If her friend could just channel some of that endless curiosity into energy for their chores they would finish them much faster. Dori climbed the temple's steps to the portico and practically skipped to the the object's location. She bent down and tugged. A black cloth came up with her hand. Dori squealed with delight.

"Oh, Eleni, you've go to see this!"

"Dori, shhh!" Eleni hissed. She kept her voice low. "The priests will hear you. We're supposed to be working!"

"Then you best hurry, so we can get back to work before they find us. Hurry up, this is amazing."

Eleni sighed again. She knew Dori wouldn't be swayed. Her friend was even more stubborn than she was curious. The best way to get her back to working would be to follow along - as quickly as possible. She got to her feet andrushed up the stairs. Her thought was to quickly look at Dori's
find, and then dash back to the flower bed. What she saw on the porch, however, froze her in place.

It was exquisite. A box, approximately two podes to a side, made of what looked like mahogany. The wood was polished to an extraordinary sheen, such that it seemed to radiate its own light instead of reflecting what was in the environment. The sides of the box were carved with intricate designs that twisted about with loops and whorls. The pattern didn't make sense, until Eleni looked closer. That's when she realized it wasn't a single design, but several nested one inside the other. Trying to follow it with her eyes was making her dizzy. She shifted her attention to the lid.

It was no less fantastic. The entire top was inlaid with tiny squares of nacre. The color palette was an incredibly subtle variation in white, but the image was clear - a pastoral scene. As she shifted her weight to the right to get a better view, the tiled picture also changed, this time showing a grand, cloud wreathed mountain. Eleni gasped. She moved back and the picture shifted once again, back to it's original image.

"Who could have put it here?"

Dori's question brought Eleni back to herself. Before she could respond Dori continued.

"I mean, we were here all morning, right? Surely we would have seen if someone had carried something this large onto the portico. We haven't seen anyone at all."

The answer came to Eleni immediately. It escaped her lips before she could stop herself. "The gods...."

Dori's eyes grew wide. "Do you really think so? It makes, sense, I guess. This is a temple, after all."

It didn't make _any_ sense. The gods didn't just leave their things lying about for anyone to find. They would have left it _in_ the temple, where the high priest could find it. Wouldn't they? But what other explanation was there? No mere mortal could have created _that._

"Let's see what's inside!"

"No!" The very thought of touching the box filled Eleni with dread. "Dori, we have no idea what it's for. We don't ever touch the relics of the gods. Not ever! Even the priests keep their distance."

Dori paused. Eleni could see the war in her eyes, Dori's natural curiosity contending with Eleni's warning. The result was inevitable.

"I have to know what's in there."

"Dori!" Eleni lunged for her friend, but she was too late. Dori's hands closed on the lid. In an instant she had thrown it back.

A shriek, loud enough to wake the very dead pierced them. The shadows of the portico seemed to deepen, drawn to the dark interior of the box. Dread seized Eleni, grasping her about the heart with ice cold fingers.

"What have you done?" she gasped. "Oh, Pandora, what have you done?"

There was a sudden moment of stifling silence, then all Hades broke loose.

The Itch

"Don't scratch it."

"But it itches sooooooo much!"

"If you scratch it you could tear your skin."

"But Mom...."

"Bobby, don't fight me on this. If you keep scratching I'll have to tie you down."

Bobby gritted his teeth and tried not to scratch. He tried so hard. He really did. But the darn itch was interminable. Bobby sat on his hands in an effort to control them. It didn't help. Somehow, they made their way back to the itch. His fingers dug frantically into his skin.

Oh, the relief, if just for a moment!

His mother caught him, of course, and she was true to her word. She laid him out on the bench and strapped his arms to his sides. Bobby cried as she did it.

"No,Mom...."

She tightened the straps, immune to his imploring.

"Mom, please...."

"It's for your own good."

She gave the straps a final tug, and then walked away without another word.

Bobby choked on his tears. His body convulsed in great wracking sobs. How could she do this to him? As unpleasant as the crying episode was, it succeeded in taking his mind off the incessant itching. Eventually, though, the sobbing ceased and the itch returned in full measure.

It was insidious. Bobby imagined thousands of spiders crawling over his body, their tiny legs poking at his skin. The itch was worse. He thought about angry wasps buzzing about, landing on him and stinging with a wicked passion. The itch was worse.

Bobby struggled against his bonds. They were so tight! He pulled, pushed, and squirmed in a futile attempt to free himself. The itch mocked him all the while, relentless in its assault. Bobby screamed from the torture of it, arching his back in a violent, twisting contraction. The force of it tipped the bench, and Bobby went crashing to the floor.

The side of his head struck the unforgiving stone with a sharp crack. Bobby felt the skin on his cheek tear from the impact. He didn't care. With the tear came relief, such wonderful relief.

Bobby thrashed against his restraints. He could feel the tear widening. Yes, yes! The uneven stone bit into his hand and the skin tore there, too. More relief. Bobby practically cried for joy – until his mother came back into the room.

"Robert Phinneas Ghoul, what have you done?"

His mother's tone was so sharp it cut through the sunny fog of his relief.

"All that work and you've ruined it."

She righted the bench and drew a finger along the tear in his cheek. The skin had torn several inches. It flapped away from the rest of his face, revealing the dark gray skin of his true self beneath.

His mother frothed in irritation. She bared her considerable fangs at him.

"It took me three weeks to grow that skin. Now you've gone and ruined it before it had a chance to cure."

"But Mom, it itched so much."

"It's supposed to itch! That's how you know it's attaching correctly. Now I've got to sew it back together."

She reached behind her and came back with a very long, very sharp needle and thread.

"Bobby, you'll never be able to hide in human society unless your skin suit is properly adhered. It has to be done if you want to pass for human. Now hold still," she said as she leaned over him, gleaming needle poised above his cheek. "This may hurt a little, but it's for your own good."

Airport Challenge

A quick scene at the local airport...

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"Last call for flight 536 with service to London."

The flight attendant put down the microphone. He took a last look around the gate in preparation for closing the door.

"Wait, wait – hold the door!"

The shout came from a young couple, racing hand in hand for the gate. The girl wore a sun dress, white cotton with a flowered print. Her hair was down, looking slightly tousled. The boy with her wore khaki pants, topped by an inexpensive golf shirt. They arrived at the gate slightly out of breath. The woman had a hand bag, the strap thrown over her head so it rested across her chest, but that was the only baggage either of them had. Neither of them could have been older than 20.

"You're lucky," the flight attendant said, "I was just about to close the door. May I have your boarding pass?"

The young woman looked at him, a pleading expression on her face. "Can we have just a moment? Please – I may never see him again."

Maybe it was the look in her eyes, or perhaps the imploring tone of her dainty British accent, but the flight attendant acquiesced.

"One minute."

The girl nodded in thanks, then turned to the young man. He took her by the hands. They stared at each other, seeming to drink each other in.

"Are you sure you have to go, Priscilla?"

"You know I do, Clark. Mother is very sick. There is no one else to care for her."

There was a moment of poignant silence. When the man finally spoke, his voice was on the edge of breaking.

"I don't know that I can go on without you."

The girl's eyes rimmed with tears.

"Oh, Clark. My heart breaks leaving you like this. I wish circumstances were different. I wish I could stay here in the warm safety of your arms. I wish I could promise to return. But…"

Clark placed a finger on her lips. The action broke the dam of her emotions and the tears fell freely.

"I understand, darling. You choose the better part. Just, please, never forget me."

"Oh, Clark - never. Never!"

He kissed her then, gently at first, then more passionately until flight attendant felt embarrassed watching them. He cleared his throat. They seemed to come back then, from the private place they had been. Both looked slightly out of sorts.

"Well, then," Clark said.

"Well, then," Priscilla said in response. "I guess this is goodbye."

An announcement came over the loudspeaker, then, interrupting them.

"Last call for flight 1134 to Rome, now boarding at gate B17."

Priscilla blinked. She turned to the flight attendant.

"Where is this flight's destination? " she asked.

"London," the attendant replied. The couple exchanged glances.

"Wrong flight," they said together. Their faces suddenly lit up in impish grins.

"Luciana," the man said. "We must away to gate B17. You'll miss your plane."

"Yes, Antonio," the girl replied, her British accent gone, replaced by something unmistakably Italian. She winked at the flight attendant. "My poor father is sure to perish without me."

The two took each other by the hand and raced off down the concourse. The flight attendant stood there for a moment, mouth open in disbelief. He considered, just for a moment, calling security. Then he shook his head. Young love…. He closed the door to the gangway, bolted the lock, and returned to the gate counter, his lips upturned in his own impish grin.

"They Fight Crime!"

This is a story that comes from an idea generator on the website www.theyfightcrime.org. Here's what the generator gave me....

"He's a globe-trotting ninja vampire hunter. She's a cold-hearted streetsmart fairy princess with the power to see death. They fight crime!"

....and here's what I came up with:

* * * * *

She paused just out of the circle of light cast by the street lamp. It was dark tonight. Dark and wet. Those few individuals that had decided to brave the rain streaking in sheets from the gloomy sky walked briskly under their umbrellas, their eyes focused on the slippery pavement. One of these people passed Jehanna so closely that his briefcase brushed the soft suede of her trousers. It left a wet smear on the otherwise dry fabric.

Normally, Jehanna liked the rain. She liked the way the earth smelled when wet. The fresh loamy odor reminded her of her youth. But that was long ago, and in a city the size of Chicago, the heady scent of nature was overpowered by the fetid stench of human habitation.

She sighed and pulled the hood of her long coat tighter around her face. She would have preferred the heavy woolen cloaks of her homeland, but such clothing would have marked her as out of place here. She almost laughed at the thought. Had anyone actually stopped to study her in their mad dashings they would have noticed immediately that she was different, and not only because the raindrops stopped just shy of hitting her.

A car turned the corner and Jehanna caught her image reflected in the darkened window of a nearby store. Yes, she was different. It wasn't anything obvious about her. Her eyes tilted a tad too much. Her cheekbones were a touch too sharp. Her nose was just a bit too straight, her chin too pointed. All of these elements added up to a picture that was not quite human. If only they could see her ears.

Or her wings.

Her musings were interrupted by a sharp keening sound, well beyond the range of human hearing. It started off soft, but gradually increased in intensity until it practically pulsed in her head. Jehanna put a finger to the microphone attached to the collar of her blouse and spoke quickly.

"Jarius, it's happening. I'm standing near the corner of Wacker and Jackson. I'd estimate the action is taking place somewhere on Quincy."

There was no answer over her receiver. Not that she had expected one. Jarius wasn't much for conversation, especially when it was action that was required.

Jehanna was moving now herself, walking briskly to a nearby doorway. She stepped into the darkened space, glanced perfunctorily at the surrounding sidewalk and Transformed. Raindrops glistened momentarily with the reflected light of magic, then a small shape was winging its way to the northeast.

* * * * *

Jarius squatted on the roof of the apartment building, absolutely motionless. Passersby who looked up - as unlikely as that event would have been in the pouring rain - would have mistaken him for a gargoyle, an immovable stone statue left over from another time, set to watch over and protect the building's inhabitants. They wouldn't have been far from the truth.

As still as he was, behind his wrap-around Raybans, Jarius's eyes missed nothing. He saw the teen-ager slip out the ground floor widow across the way and escape in a friend's awaiting car. He saw the elderly couple, arm in arm, strolling down the sidewalk, looking for all the world as if they had just recently discovered love. He saw the pigeons descend on the remains of a hot dog bun, tossed carelessly out the window of a passing SUV. He saw the man in the Lexus park in the space vacated by the teenager's friend. He watched the man step from the vehicle, heedless of the effects of the rain on his Armani suit, and walk purposefully up the steps of the nearest building. The man took a key from his pocket and entered immediately.

Jarius was up and moving before the door completely closed. He took a step forward and dropped off the edge of the roof. He landed on the steps three stories below with a lightness that belied his size, and was sprinting across the street almost instantly. He didn't bother with the intercom system or the lock, choosing instead a more direct method of entry. One gloved fist shattered the window next to the door and turned the knob from the inside. He was stepping over the threshold when Jehanna's voice spoke to him through the receiver in his ear. He didn't bother to answer. He knew instinctively that he was in the right place, that the man he saw entering this building was the one they sought.

Five quick strides placed him before the door to the apartment. He grasped the knob and turned. The door was locked. Jarius gave the door slight push just above the knob. The lack of give confirmed to him that the dead bolt was also locked.

Jarius chafed at the delay. It had only been a minute since the man had entered, and only seconds since Jehanna's warning, but his instincts screamed at him that if he did not hurry he would fail in his mission. He stepped back, took a deep breath to center himself, and launched a sidekick at the door.

There was a large CRACK as the door flew open. Jarius stepped through the shattered frame and scanned the apartment.

The man was standing in the living room, straddling the limp body of a woman. Sanctius snapped from its scabbard as Jarius leaped forward, swinging for the kill.

The man moved so fast he was almost a blur. Sanctius swept through the empty space above the woman's body. Jarius spun instinctively, the holy blade carving an arc through the air designed to stop the inevitable counterattack.

The attack never came.

Jarius fixed the figure in the corner with a stare. The vampire's eyes glowed slightly red, but he otherwise showed no sign of aggression.

"Hold, Hunter. I did not do this."

"I find that hard to believe."

"It is the truth. Search the body."

Jarius glanced down at the woman who lay at his feet. Blood pooled thickly around the body. The source was easily identified - several stab wounds were in evidence in the woman's chest.

"The woman was like that when I entered. I was not involved. You have no jurisdiction here."

"You came here intending to feed," Jarius said. "That's makes it my jurisdiction." He raised Sanctius to the ready.

"Whatever intentions I may have had are irrelevant. By the Accords, I am innocent of any wrongdoing."

Blood and stones. Jarius wanted this vampire, wanted him badly, but the creature spoke the truth.

"Begone, then, vampire."

"What I came for is not here anyway, Hunter." It smiled, showing perfectly white human teeth. "Happy Hunting." With a blur, it was gone.

Jairus slid Sanctius back into its sheath. What did the creature come for? Jehanna's visions were never wrong. The vampire had intended violence here. It hadn't had time to search the apartment, so what it wanted must have once been on the person of the woman.

Jarius bent down and inspected the body. He found it almost immediately: a fine red line around her throat, evidence that a necklace had been torn from her before her murder. The body was fresh. Only one person could have done it - and he had what the vampire wanted.

"Jehanna, you need to find an old, black Cadillac Seville, some rusting on the hood. License plate IL- UL 2532. Find it now."

He was already moving out the door to the building as Jehanna's questioning reply came over the radio. He didn't bother to answer it.

* * * * *

Jehanna perched high on the railing of a fire escape watching the scene below. The old Seville was parked at one end of the alley, its teen aged occupants arguing over something. Jehanna couldn't hear the conversation from this distance, but it was evident things were getting heated.

A second car pulled into the opposite end of the alley, the light from its lamps fully illuminating the two kids. They stopped their arguing, forced to shield their eyes. Jehanna tried to identify the new vehicle. Was that a Lexus? She wasn't sure. She had never gotten the hang of identifying vehicles. Without license plate information she would never have found the Seville.

The driver of the Lexus killed the lights and got out of the car. The two boys followed suit.

"That you, Sanchez?"

"Shut up, you #*%@ fool! You want I should off you now?"

Jehanna saw the gun in Sanchez's hand. Evidently the boy did, too, as he stopped talking and held up his hands.

"You have the stuff, or not."

"We got it."

"Then hand it over before I get more pissed."

The keening started again. Where was Jarius? She was forbidden to intervene directly and someone was going to die by supernatural means in the next minute or two.

The second boy walked forward, a necklace with a charm dangling from his fist. He stopped six feet short of Sanchez.

"I...I want to see the reward first."

Sanchez chuckled. It was an oily sound. "You have guts, kid. I'll show you the reward."

Sanchez moved so fast he must have appeared as a blur to the kid.

He was a vampire!

The vampire held the kid around the throat with one hand and lifted him several inches off the ground.

"Your reward is a quick death."

A crossbow bolt embedded itself in the vampire's left breast. It staggered, glowing red eyes searching for its attacker.

Jarius sprinted from the shadows of the alley, Sanctius poised to strike. The vampire dropped the boy and attempted to defend itself, but the holy water coating the bolt was doing its job. The fiend was too slow. Sanctius sliced down, severing its head from its body. There was a flash of brilliant white light, and the vampire exploded into dust.

Jehanna smiled. Jarius always arrived in time.

A siren sounded close by as the boy attempted to get to his feet. Jarius promptly punched him in the face. He hit the ground hard.

Jehanna watched the first boy scramble back into his vehicle and flee the scene. She waited until he was gone before joining Jarius in the alley below.

"Why did you do that?" she asked, pointing to the unconscious kid.

"He killed his own mother tonight. All for this." Jarius retrieved the necklace from the boy's hand. "I'm not going to kill an innocent, but I'm not going to let him get away with murder either."

A reasonable explanation. "What do you think the vamp wanted with the necklace?"

"No clue, but we need to find out." Jarius sheathed Sanctius. "The cops will be here soon. We better be going."

Jehanna nodded. Without a second look at the boy she shimmered and flew out of sight.

Ah, Good to Be Back

So, I decided to participate in NaNoWriMo this November. (www.nanowrimo.org) I spent most days that month writing towards the 50,000 word novel that was the goal. I fell short in the end, topping out at ~ 38,000 words. I missed a few days and then got sick at the very end of the month which wiped me out. Still, for me, writing 38,000 words in 30 days is a mind blowing achievement. I learned how to write 1000 words at a shot without editing - all within 20 minutes. This gives me hope I can actually complete a novel some day.

I may decide to post what I wrote here, but probably not. It's trash, pure and simple. But with some editing it could actually be novel worthy (and if I ever finish it.) For the meantime, I intend to go back to hammering out shorts for awhile to give myself a break. I promise to post more this week.

- Todd

"Opposite Woes"

Anyone for poetry? This is silly....

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"Opposite Woes"


"O, Dr. Day, there's something wrong!"
I told him with a yelp.
"Just tell me what it is," he said,
"I'll see if I can help."

"Well, it all started just lastweek,"
I told him with a frown.
"I made an effort to stand up;
Instead I sat back down."

"That's not so bad," the doctor said,
"Just dizziness I'm sure.
I have right here some medicine
that will affect a cure."

"If dizziness was all there was
I'll bet that would be true.
But there's still more that's going on
I need to share with you.

"I tried to fill my coffee cup
and tipped some from the spout
But, instead of filling up the mug
I found I'd poured it out!

"My shoes should go upon my feet -
they end up on my head.
I sleep upon my table and
I breakfast on my bed.

"I know that I'm right-handed;
I've been so all my life,
but recently I use my left,
At least, so says my wife.

"I'm drinking from the toilet and
I'm peeing in the sink.
My eyes are always open, while
my mouth's begun to blink!

"And if all that is not enough
To prove to you my plight,
I'd swear the Cubs have won the pennant
-
and that CAN'T be right!"

"So, left is right and right is wrong.
That's quite a list of ills.
I don't think I can solve this case
By giving you some pills.

"Let's see," Doc said, "I think I know
Some tests that we can run.
With those results we then will see
If something can be done."

And so they ran a CAT scan
With an MRI or two.
They tested both my ears, my mouth,
My bed and sink and shoe.

When all the tests were finished
The results were analyzed.
Then Dr. Day sat down with me
And shared the big surprise.

"We've figured out your opposites.
Our reasoning is clear.
Do you remember last week, the
Procedure you had here?

"It was a simple surgery;
We just removed your brain.
Once it was out we washed it
And returned it back again.

"But, sadly, a mistake was made,"
said Doc Day with a frown.
"For though your brain was clean,
We put it back in upside down."