Timeless Love

Happy Thursday readers! Alas, an entire week has already passed since we last gathered round our vessels' of the internet; which means, you are expecting a story. I'm happy to say we had tied our record from last week again with this little experiment; a record one submissions have been received!!! Therefore, I am happy to announce this weeks story will be a tweeny romance, featuring Vampire-Nazi-Cyborg-Cavemen (or as I like to think of 'em, the VNCC) from the future-past!! ...
So yeah, this is happening.
Now, I'd like to clarify for anyone who may be a little fuzzy on the submission process, I'm happy to take more than one suggestion; in fact, I am more than willing to fuse suggestions! Let's say you were really excited about seeing this whole VNCC thing play out, and didn't want to risk it not happening; you should still throw in your two cents. I mean, this is a fairly general description and gives me a lot of toy around room. What I mean is, did anyone want to see how this tale would play out if it was set on the moon? Or how about in feudal japan?  Maybe the romantic leads should have been bunnies in the midst of this chaos! To clarify, I took it in a different direction because I didn't receive these kinds of comments, but if I had I would have loved to play around with it all. That being said, immediately following this story, I am open for next weeks suggestions! Leave a comment at the end of this post telling me what you want to see next week. "But Wilshire, I don't have a gmail, what ever shall I do???" Have no fear reader; now you can follow the blog on facebook and post your suggestions their as well!!! "But Wilshire, what if I don't have a facebook?" Well reader, I very much appreciate your devotion, and I would be more than happy to hear your suggestions over email. "But Wilshire, what if I don't have email?" ...Um...thank you for finding my little corner of the internet!!! Anyway, submissions will be open until Sunday-ish, so be sure to tell me what you want to hear!
Okay, no more talking. I give you...

Timeless Love

"Golly Steve, that Jane Rogers sure is the bee's knees!"
"Wow Bill! You really are fond of her, aren't ya!"
Unable to contain his boyish youth, a beaming smile comes across Bill's face, "She's just so swell!"
"Well what are you waiting for? Quit going on to me about her, and go talk to her!" Steve said, trying to encourage his friend.
"Gosh, I don't know about that Steve," Bill suddenly felt very uncomfortable about the situation, "I just don't think a girl like that would want anything to do with a guy like me?"
"Ah, what are you going on about! Jane's liked you sense her and her parents moved here at the beginning of the school year."
"Oh I don't know about that. I just think she appreciated a friendly person."
"Oh you! Look, our school's putting on the Summertime Social this weekend! After the seniors graduate, they open up the carnival for everyone; why don't you ask her to that?"
"I don't know Steve..."
"What's not to know? If she say's no, you won't have to spend your whole summer vacation wondering about this same silly doll!"
"Don't talk about Jane like that!"
"Oh you've got it bad my friend. Just ask her to join you at the other end of the bar; buy her a malt and ask her!"
"Well..."
Before Bill could argue, Steve pushed him off his stool and toward Jane's table across the diner. It took most of his coordination to prevent a fall, but it wasn't enough to save him from fumbling around a bit. As his eye's shot toward the direction of Jane, to see if she had witnessed the debacle, his worst fears were confirmed.
He could walk away. He wanted to walk away. But her eye's. She kept staring at him. Mustering up his greatest reserves of courage, Bill made his way toward the table.
"Hi'ya Jane," he blurted through an awkward grin and wave.
"Hi Billy," she replied, batting her eyes.
"Hi," he said to her again.
The gathering of Jane's friends, began to snicker at the pair.
Bill realized how ridiculous he must look at the moment and quickly tried to rectify the situation, "Jane! I was wondering if I could buy you a malt and talk to you, over there!" he said, pointing to the far end of the bar.
"Why sure Billy!"
"Golly!"
Steve tried to muffle his laughter through his float, while he watched his friend.

Bill met Jane at the gates of the Summertime Social, Saturday afternoon. The event was decorated with all types of banners and streamers congratulating the class of '53; but Bill didn't care about the class of '53, he had another three years of school left himself, and he was determined to spend that time going steady with the love of his life.
"Wow Billy! There's just so much to do! Where do we even begin?"
"Well Jane, my personal favorite is the ferris wheel; but if you don't want to..."
"I'd love to ride the ferris wheel with you Billy!"
So they did.
"Wow, Billy! That was so much fun! What's should we do next! Oh, what's that tent?"
"That's where they have the petting zoo. Would you want to..." but before Billy could finish his idea, a terrible rumble erupted from the bowels of the earth. Suddenly, the very ground beneath the circus top erupted; and through the flurry came sinister beasts. Riding on the backs of dinosaurs, the evil metal monstrosities road.
"Golly Billy what's happening!" Jane shrieked, while clutching at his arm.
"I don't know," he confessed in fear, "but if I'm not mistaken, those club wielding robots are wearing Nazi uniforms!"
He was not mistaken. The pillagers riding super lizards, were in fact wearing uniforms of the SS. Their simmering skin reflected the summer sun as they went about their plundering. Humans scattered and screamed all around. They tried to flee as giant prehistoric jaws nabbed them up; they attempted to escape the primitive clubs, the riders bashed them with; and they even shrieked as a metal tongue lashed from the
mouths of the beasts masters', and plunged into the groveling humans, draining them of their precious blood.
The ferris wheel flew off of it's mount as a renegade triceratops, burst through it. The joyous circle, now a crushing death trap for all those in its carts.
"We gotta get outta here, Jane!" Bill yelled, as he pulled the girl he loved.
The duo ran blindly through the wreckage, trying to escape the chaos. A pteradon swooped from the heavens and plucked a random civilian fleeing, just ahead of them.
"Golly! Not that way!" he said, pulling Jane in a different direction, "We gotta find some place to hide!" As Bill frantically surveyed the area he noticed a possible base of salvation.
"Come on Jane, this way!"
As they ran, a tyrannosaurs stepped over their path and toward a thralling mass. Its master's tongue, grappling randomly for any in the throng.
"Gee wilikers! This is terrible! But we are almost there!"
Bill led Jane to the entrance of the haunted house ride; though all carts had been abandoned the ride it self had yet to suffer any damage.
"We will just follow the tracks and hide in here!" he told the frightened girl.
Reluctantly, she entered the ride and as Bill turned to make sure nothing was following them, he was forced to dive through the entrance after her and a massive stegosaurus brought its tail crashing down upon the entrance.
"We are not safe yet!" he said, picking himself up and running deeper into the ride.
They hid in behind a sarcophagus, which housed an automated mummy, intended to pop out and scare passengers in the ride.
"I'm so scared Billy."
"I know Jane me too."
"Hold me," she whimpered snuggling close to him.
Taken off guard, Bill did his best to not seem rigid. As, he looked down at the beautiful girl trembling in his arms, the words seemed to just escape his mouth, "I love you."
Jane stopped shuddering and looked at the face which had just confessed its feelings' for her.
"Oh Bill," she replied softly, before leaning up and softly kissing his lips.
They remained behind the sarcophagus, awaiting the chaos to pass.

It was near dusk before Bill and Jane ventured from their sanctuary. The chaos at the carnival had passed some hours before, but their trepidation had kept them rooted.
"We gotta get home Jane and make sure our families are okay!"
As they left the carnival and ran towards their suburbia, it was clear the destruction had traveled a similar course. Tears streamed down Bill's face as he turned the corner onto Roosevelt street and saw the steaming shambles of his home.
"MOM! DAD!" he yelled while running to the pile of home. No one responded. His home and family had been reduced to shambles and dino droppings.
"I'm so sorry Billy," Jane whispered.
"Those darn monsters! Why are they doing this?" he wept.
"I don't know; maybe this was Hitler's master plan?"
Bill wiped the tears from his face, "We've gotta check on your family Jane! Maybe we can save them!"
The couple ran over to Jefferson Lane; the carnage was less on these streets and it inspired hope.
"Father! Mother!" Jane had hardly opened the front door of her home before calling her parents.
"Jane! Your alive!" her dad's concern lifting to joy, "When those beasts came we were so worried!"
She wrapped her arm's around her dad, "Billy kept me safe papa!"
As he stepped away from his daughter, Jane's father approached Bill, "Why I believe a thank you is in order young man."
"No need Mr. Rogers."
"Well, you still have it son. Now, why don't we get you home? Your parents must be worried sick about you!"
The uncontrollable sobs returned. Jane broke away from her mother's embrace and strolled to her father, "Billy's parents didn't make it dad."
"Oh my; I'm so sorry lad. Why don't you stay with us for now?"
Vainly attempting to wipe the tears away, Billy asked, "Really Mr?"
"It would be our pleasure. Now why don't you kids run along to bed and we will figure out what to do in the morning."
"Can I stay in the spare room with Billy dad?"
Clearly uncomfortable with the proposal, her father reluctantly replied, "Well, there are two beds and the boy has proven himself noble....if it will make you feel better."
"Thanks dad!" she exclaimed, jumping up and giving him a peck on the cheek.
Jane showed Bill the spare room, and took a seat on the bed opposite of him. The tears still wouldn't stop.
"I'm sorry about your folks and your home Billy."
"I just can't believe this is happening."
"At least we still have each other," she offered, moving from her bed and sitting next to him.
He continued to sob. Placing her arms around him, she spoke softly, "I love you Billy; with all my heart I do. I always have, ever sense we first met."
His sobbing began to waver, "Really?"
"Really," she replied and with a complete disregard to proper and acceptable behavior, she kissed him again.

The next morning, the world was woken up simultaneously by a disembodied broadcast riding the air waves.
"Mein inferiors!" the voice rang through the subconscious.
"Mein name is Vladimir Heinz; I am zee commanding officer of his fuhrers secret services. Though mein fuhrer has alveady vallen in your time, ve transcend vhat you simple mortals perceive as existence. You see, ve are immortals! The virst time our leader rose to power, he took complete control. Through the brilliancez and evilz of Nazi science his dying commission was  a battalion of unstoppable cyborgs be built! And ve vere. Are fuel is your blood! It powers us, makes us strong, makes us immortal! Ve reigned supreme in the furhers image for eons! But vhen zee universe ended, ve still remained! And vhen zee universe restarted, ve still remained! Ve vaited, as our energy depleted, vaited until life returned. Zee beasts ve ride did not provide zee fuel ve need to survive, so ve imprisoned zhem to use as our steeds! Vhen finally you primates began to return, ve feasted; but it vas still not enough to satisfy. In order to survive, ve decided to vait, imprisoning ourselves vith our steeds; vaiting for zee fuhrer to return; vaiting for your kind to spread. Ve vaited, and our fuhrer fell. BUT HIS DEATH VAS NOT IN VAIN! Ve have returned from your future and your past and ve shall feed on you as ve have always!"
The transmission had only just ended when Mr. Rogers burst into the spare room, "We have to leave now!" he exclaimed.
As the children followed the man down the stairs, they found his wife standing by the door, waiting.
"What's happening!" Jane inquired through a panic.
Before an answer could be offered, a woolly mammoth paraded through the front wall. Mrs. Rogers shrieked as its rider disembarked, "ZILENCE FRAULEIN!" spoke the VNCC as it clobbered her in the head with a primitive club.
"RUN!" bellowed Mr. Rogers; and though he had the foresight of the idea, he himself was incapable of performing the task, as the metal creatures tongue drove into him.
"Come on!" Bill yelled, pulling Jane away from the frekus and out the back door.
"Where are we going?"
"We will hide in the woods!"
So they ran; the legs of young lovers, pushing away from the nightmare of the world behind.

The forest had been largely unperturbed; with most of the homo-sapiens being in towns and cities, the VNCC had left it alone in search of sustenance. The young couple found their way into a secluded cave and waited.
"Oh Billy...what are we going to do."
"We are going to hide Jane. Our guns and bombs are worthless against their amazing future-past technology."
"But does that means the world will be destroyed?"
"I don't Jane, but I do know the rest of the world isn't worth a pulp to me, as long as I have you."
"Oh Billy..."
Again, the young lovers lips' locked in a forbidden and taboo way. They held each other, only concerned with their love; remaining in their cave until happily ever after for them and violent brutal destruction for the rest of the world.

The End

There you have it! Now, get on with those submissions folks!

A Bildungsroman, Abridged

The first ever choose your own story received a record breaking ONE suggestion! Yes readers that is right, one of you rose from the circle and shouted out a yarn they were ready to have spun! And I shall appease; or at least make an effort. That being said, at the conclusion of this post, be sure to leave comments with your suggestions! Not a follower on the blog? That's okay! It only takes a gmail account to join! Also, this week's suggestion came via facebook; that means, if we are friendsies on fb, you can submit requests there as well! But, I'd like to add, I would very much appreciate if you'd at least consider joining the blog, because I just want to know you care :)
NOW, without any more shameless plugging, I present A Bildungsroman, Abridged



It's truly amazing looking back on one's life and deciphering the paths which led to your current destination. Doubt was my constant companion through the journey. As far back as I can remember it's always been present; perhaps not active, but at least presiding.

As a child, I distinctly recall always being confused; and now through reflection, I realize that what I mistook for perplexity was only a need for sense. It was the worlds fault. Nothing seemed right, nothing seemed the way I expected or wanted it to be. My mother would regale me with stories of the past.
"Well you see, my love," she'd say to me, "when your father and I, were neigh but children ourselves, a great evil was committed. There was a man, who terrorized London; the bobbies where calling him Jack the Ripper, because of the vile ways he would ravage his female victims. The entire city was terrified by the man from his earliest mutilations. But despite curfews and patrols the the deaths were unyielding. At the time no one knew there was any type of scheme happening; simply the evils of a lunatic. With his ninety-ninth victim, the seceret behind the atrocities were revealed; the murders had all been committed in accordance to a heathen blood ritual. It was through these sacrifices that darkness was given a physical presence, not just here in England, but across the world. Evils' which plagued the human mind were no longer metaphysical fears, but tangible beings. Death was everywhere the night it happened, and still is; but now we have learned how to avoid it. Darkness comes with the night and flees with the day. We need but avoid the night, and keep the fire of our village always burning and we shall be spared."

"But why do we live in darkness to avoid it mother?"

"That's simple child. The world above belongs to these evils. We remain under the ground to avoid there wrath, for they take offense to all whom roam in the day."

"But father is on the surface during the day!" I'd respond, overcome with fear for him.

"Yes he is; but your father provides a duty which must be done. Do not be scared for he is safe. You need but lead a life of righteousness, do what the village requires, and banish all evils away from your heart."

"But..."

But no matter what I followed with, the answers were always the same, "You will begin to understand when your older."

My age never clarified the questions I asked her; it only led to more uncertainty.

At the ripe age of seven it was finally time for my apprenticeship with my father. My seventh birthday; a milestone toward adulthood, and the my first encounter with the surface.

" 'cited about your first visit up top?" he asked me while I handed him the pitchfork through the man hole.

"Oh yes father! I've always wanted to see the surface!"

" 'aha!" he laughed, "bet you'll be singin' a diff'rnt tune by the end of the day!"

He took the reins of his cart, much like the one we had in the sewer, and led me through the derelict streets of above. I don't know why I expected the surface to be vibrant and beautiful. The tales of the streets were always foreboding and eerie. Regardless,I found myself deeply saddened by the sight when I first experienced it. Beautiful feats of architecture and engineering, which seemed to die once abandoned. Though it wasn't what one might consider razed, it was clear that any attempts to preserver, maintain or advance aesthetics had fled with the former residents.

" 'ere's the first stiff. Why don't you 'andle it? I's about your size?" his question pulled diverted my attention from one sorrow to a greater one. The first body I ever encountered, to which it was my father's duty to collect, was a young girl; not a day over five, yet still brutally slaughtered.

"Well? W'at are you waitin' for? Pick 'er up and throw 'er in the cart!"

A numb went through me as I adhered to a code driven into my being, "always do what the village needs of you." Her cold rigid body, frightened me as I lifted it with all of my might. Rigomortis made walking the most difficult task I had ever performed. Her unmoving legs, colliding into mine, while I tried to carry her. When I was near the cart, my strength and dexterity abandoned me and gravity finally prevailed over the duel between our legs. With balance lost I fell to the ground and landed upon the cold, wet corpse I'd been carrying. As I lifted myself, found blood was not the only liquid on my face, tears were pouring down my face.

My father laughed. And through his hysterics he drove the pitchfork into her chest and hurled the body onto the corpse.

" C'mon, there's still plenty more."

He didn't ask me retrieve anymore of the bodies that day; I simply followed and observed. As the cadavers piled upon the cart, I found myself still questioning the young girl.

"Father?" I asked, "Mother said the darkness only prey's upon evil people."

"And it's so."

"But that little girl; how could she have been evil?"

"Is that w'as been bot'ering you then? Well, i's simple; she's was a surface dweller. The world above, belongs to darkness."

"But, then why are we up here collecting people whom are evil?"

"Now tha's a silly question. If we don't collect the bodies and burn 'em they will rise up and bring darkness upon us. Our ever burin' fire repels the physical darkness, but it won't do much to a reanimated corpse."

"I still don't understa..."

I never was able to elaborate because he grabbed my wrist and started yelling, "Look, you don't 'ave to understand everything. And you better get that! Your refusal to accept the order of thing's breeds evil and discontent. And no child of mine is going to ruin life for our village! Got it?"

I didn't; but at that moment the only thing I feared more than the darkness was his wrath, so I nodded my head in compliance.

When we returned to our subteranean abode before dusk, and loaded our haul onto the fire, I resolved to stop bothering my family with my doubt. I felt if I just accepted what they said, then perhaps I could aquire there solace.

Years of silence yielded no solitude. As I debated internally I found I understood less and less. When I was thirteen I encountered an epiphany so startling, I didn't know if I could truly believe it. I was still apprenticing as a corpse collector with my father. The day had seemed routine enough. With pitchfork in hand, I gathered the remains of people while he towed the vessel of their conveyance.

" Oy! Loo' at the lil' workers' roun'ing up their masters trophies!" The statement came from a living corpse. It was the first time I had ever come into contact with living person from the surface; in the last six years I had been given no reason to believe people actually lived above, aside from what seemed to be a never ending supply of bodies.

"Why don't you jus' shut the 'ell up lady! You chose damnation!"

"Oh, your so self righteous in fron' of the lil' one aren't you!"

"Bah! Ignore her my child; this is the world of sin the surface breeds."

"If i's a sin to be 'uman an' not just 'onor evil, I will always be a sinner."

My father dropped the reins and wretched the pitchfork from my hands, before accosting the woman.

"Quie' you lyin' w'ore! If you don't go back in your 'ovel I will stick you an' add you to my cart!"

She smiled at us and turned away. My father gave me back the pitchfork and began to draw the cart.

"Father?" I began.

"No! Don't you dare ask me about anything that evil woman said! She's an evil surface dweller!"

I chose not to press the matter upon him, but now my doubt began to flourish. I couldn't shake the words she had spoken. It seemed to me as if we were accused of being the evil ones. As if our civilization was the affront to humanity.

After dinner that night, when I was able to gain a moment alone with my mother, I recounted the story of the day too her. Her reaction to my questions affirmed that my answers would have to wait two more years; for no sooner had I finished than she brought her hand across my lips and yelled, "Do not ever speak of such hersay again!"

I was distraught. It seemed the more I yearned for enlightenment, the more hostility I faced. I couldn't understand what I was doing wrong by wanting to understand. When I was fifteen, answers came in a way I had never prepared for.

While out on a routine collection with my father, the day had remained overcast. The clouds had choosen to set a dreary background for the dilapated city. A storm was forming and the clouds were becoming darker; without realizing the time we hadn't even begun the trek home until dusk was setting.

That's when I saw it. A shadow, which seemed to stretch from no where. Its form indisinguishable as it turned to vapor and some manner of form.

"Hello my servants."

It spoke to us and though it had no features with which to identify its target, it was clear we were the intended recipients of its orration.

" 'Ello darkone," My father responded, while words failed me.

"Awfully late for you to be out collecting for us isn't it?"

" T'is because of the storms sir; we di'nt know what time 'twas."

"Is that so? Are you certain, you weren't plotting with the top dwellers?"

"Never sir! These fool's 'ave chosen their fates. We were simply honoring your wishes."

The words pierced my very core. My doubt was qualified. It was clear to me the dangers behind my questions.

"Ah, but our wishes are for you to remain underground when we walk."

"I know sir."

"Do you? Then you have chosen your fate as well."

"But..."

I never knew what my father's rebutle was intended to say; before he had the chance to articulate, the wraith had lanced through his chest.

I ran. I knew not where too, nor why even but I ran. Away from the cart. Away from the darkness. Away from my dying father. Away from the sewer. As my feet carried me I heard the sounds of his body being shredded. The wet plops of severed meat falling to the ground. Shadows were stirring. Everywhere around me, the darkness was moving. I was crying. It was raining. I still don't know which happened first.

Ducking into the first open door I saw, I continued to run. There was a light at the end of the hallway. Pausing to breathe I looked to the direction I had come from. A formless mass was advancing. With renewed vigor from fear, I pushed toward the light shinning from below the door jam. My hands pouned against the wooden frame. My voice shrieked for sanctuary.

The door opened and golden candlelight poured out. As I fell into the room, I was caught by a set of arms; arms that pulled me into the light, and slammed the door behind me. They were the arms of an elderly man. The arms that lay me on the floor, as exhaustion pressed  me to sleep.

When I awoke I found I had crashed into a completely differnet form of living. The populace of the topworld. An entire civilization of people refusing to be driven underground. A society unwilling to be bullied.

I rarely spoke. I never explained my origins. They accepted me none the less, but it was I who couldn't accept them.

Any trade I knew wasn't applicable to there shell of existence. They did not gather the dead. They did not burn their  dead. They simply lived.

I spent many days and nights listening to the stories told over drinks. Hearing about the other above world communities all over the world. Learning about those whom had parlayed with the darkness, and ultimatly served it, in order to be spared of it.

More doubt. Serving the darkness had not spared my father and blatatlntly disrespecting it, as living on the surface did, merely prolonged its conquest over one's self. Life was wrong. It was not what it was meant to be.

My refusal to conform to the choices before me, ultimately left me osterized. My inability to contribute, my total silence, resulted with the top society which had accepted me to begin and resent me.

I had to leave but I couldn't return underground. I needed currency and I needed to find other's and expierence there perspective.

It was nearly six months after I had become a burden when I found my opportunitiy. The resident carpenter had lost himself in tumblers of brandy, while regailing listeners with his tales. When the audiences' attention waned, the speaker took the opportunity to fall asleep upon the nearest table. My chance. Casually I strode next to the sleeping orator and removed a sactchel of coins from his belt. Hiding the prize inside my garmnets I retreaded to the bed I had been given and waited until moring, when I immediatley left the community to find another.

This was my life. For six years I performed this. Finding a new assembly. Staying with it, while never joining. Stealing from it's inhabitants so I could one day abadon them as the others before. It's sad to think about it, but I feel its was good for me. It affirmed my doubt. No longer was my quest for understanding shunned; I could gain information and I had no one to justify my actions too.

Until my doubt redirected inward. I was on my way through Wales when I encoutnered a father and son performing the same duty I had aheared to with my own father. During my time on the surface I had never witnessed a corpse rise. The very reason I was told our job must be done was something I never expierenced. I approached the duo.

"Excuse me sir," I said.

"We seek no trouble from you top dweller," the father said to me.

"Nor I with you sir. I simply would like to know why you gather these bodies?"

The son fielded the response to my surprise. "We gather them to burn. The smoke of their corpses is our sacrifice to the darkness, so it will not steal us away."

I was amazed. This child understood more about its culture than I did until I abandoned mine.

"I see..."

"Now before you try an' convert us to living uptop," the father spoke before I could continue, "we know the evils of either choice, but we simply want to live rather than stir the pot."

"This may be brash of me, but could I perhaps return to your village with you?"

"No. I'm sorry, but we'd be banished ourselves for such an act."

I nodded in acceptance, "I understand. Thank you for your time and good luck to you."

This encounter made me understand. The people uptop were no different from those below. People just wanted to survive; as I had just wanted to survive. The lines distinguishing right and wrong had been skewed by humanities will to continue. The cultures, the societies, the lives that I had refused to accept, were the same as me. For the first time doubt had led me to certainty. I knew what I had to do.

Every culture shared a legend. There was a physical tether which bound darkness to the world. A tangible object which had come into existence through the blood sacrifices. I had to steal this tailsman, in order for society to set down its differences and unite to live, I would have to strike against the darkness.

I proposed my plan to the abover's in Wales. They gaffed at me, but more importantly they doubted me. I was not detered. I spent the entire next day looking for the local corpse collectors; the father and son whom had been pivotal to my decision. They disregarded me, becasue they too doubted me.

According to legend, the anchor to the physical realm existed within all darkness at once. The task seemed simple; I needed but find a wraith and use my nimble skills of theft to remove the tether

When night fell my opportunity came. A shadowy smoke was meandering through the streets. My hiding place behind a heap of barrels seemed sound; for I wasn't noticed. Slyly I left my vantage and skulked behind my foe. Inching closer, until I could lightly waft my hand through it.

Inside the smoke my fingers wrapped around some manner of precious stone. Carefully, I removed the object from the creature. It was as if the very blood which corses through our veins had solidifed into this mass. The legend was true. My doubt had ultimatly led me to hope.

The shadow was not pleased to find it had been robbed. From somewhere within its for a scythe lashed out and into my chest.

I feel the crimsion life force draining from my body but still my hand clutches the gem.

"Give it back to me!!" the beast screams.

Still I am silent. It shakes me off and onto the ground.

"RETURN IT TO ME!!!"

Doubt is with me again, but this time its comforting; for it is not mine. I understand my fate. I will die, with this rock in my hands. Perhaps, the darkness can't retrieve the tailisman themselves. Even if they can my body will stay where it has fallen. Either the corpse collectors or the top dwellers will find me; their doubt in me confirmed, will hopefully breed new doubts within them; doubts that will lead them to find hope and reclaim life, as it did for me.

"RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHH!!" the shadow screams while lashing a claw toward my face.

Phase 2!!!

Greetings True Readers!!! (see what I did there? It's a play on words for comic geeks! lol)

With the entire first act of In the Case of Mathematics vs. Gods, Religions and Other Worldly Philosophies published on the blog its time to take the next step. As more people have become semi-familiarized with the story, I've noticed a common topic of discussion when I'm around people has been my personal theology. Personally, I felt the story did a decent job of explaining my views, but apparently I have been mistaken because everyone from friends, family and casual acquittances have asked me about this. Before, you exit out of here and run away afraid I am trying to push my personal philosophies, I ask you to wait; that is not my intentions by starting this blog; I will do a post sometime in the near future discussing this topic to appease those whom have expressed curiosity over the matters more recently, but I assure you I do not want it to become the focal point of my little corner of the internet.
If I have thoroughly confused you by now, just ignore the majority of the previous paragraph and listen to my pitch for initiating phase 2 of Story Time by Wilshire. This is the part where the blog either becomes super-duper-fun for the readers, OR it becomes another piece of electronic jetsam, lost in the ever growing flotsam of tripe, littering our wondrous interwebz. What exactly does that allusion mean you may ask? Well it's simple: I don't want this blog to become an outlet for me to whine about the state of the world, attack socioeconomic matters, criticize the self righteous, or overall just be the jaded blathering of youth. I tell stories, and though they may pack the occasional jibe and commentary, I like to think the way I present it doesn't hurt the tale (if you feel it does, why haven't you flamed me in the comment section yet?). With that in mind, I want to hear from you! I've given you five chapters of a story I wanted to tell, now its your turn to shape a story. Confused still? Don't sweat it! I'm not asking people to post any of there works on my site or any thing of the likes; I'm simply asking you to utilize your imagination. Think back to being a child: at some point through the years I'm sure a parent, guardian, teacher or librarian sat you down, maybe with a group of peers, and asked what kind of story you wanted to hear. If not, that's fine, because I am, here and now asking you, to do just that. Give me a setting (era or place); give me a genre (nothing is too taboo); give me a character (basic archetypes; IE, girl, dog, alien, tree); let me tell you the story you want to hear! That's what I'm offering readers; a chance to hear the fable you want to hear every week. Think of it as our time to gather round the proverbial campfire of our computers, shed the facades of the daily grind, and just kick back and be some what entertained. I'm not looking to make a book of this, or steal ideas, I'm simply trying to engage my audience.
So here's the basic plan so far: immediately following this post submissions for our first trial at story time opens up. Simply comment on this post until Sunday, June 12th, 2011 at 11:59pm; tell me what you want to hear and I will make it so by Thursday June 16th! Now keep in mind, this is a simple weekly story time; ergo I do not want to turn this into some episodic adventure of the same story; essentially, each post will be completely independent from its predecessor (so if you don't like a particular yarn; don't fret, because you won't have to deal with it again!).
I have no idea how this is going to turn out, so here's a quick disclaimer to cover my butt: I reserve the rights to use whatever material is submitted, that I choose. Essentially I will do my best to meld together as much as I can, of what you throw at me, but I make no guarantees that I will use everything submitted; but I do guarantee not to troll old threads for ideas (so if you really want me to use something I ignored in the past, don't be afraid to resubmit it!). Also, these are going to be short tales; averaging out to about the same length as any given chapters I've posted (so it shouldn't take you to long to read through).
This is an idea I think we can have a lot of fun with people, but its success hinges on you! As it stands, I've had in the neighborhood of 200+ views to my story; I'm ignorant to how many of those views are repeated people, but given I've only got four followers at this point, I'm gonna go ahead and assume most are. Now here comes the extortion; join the blog! If you've got friends who you think might enjoy this type of thing, refer them and tell them to join! I'm very grateful to my loyalists thus far, but let's face it, this probably won't be very fun for only five of us. Join up and let's play a bit of pretend folks!
Without further adieu, submissions are open!