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Ke!th: Rise of a Villain #1

The last thing he remembered seeing, was the laughable piece of wood the man had swung toward his face. It should have been an easy maneuver to dodge the plank and counter, leave the man bleeding on the floor but his hands were full and his mind was focused on the score; an imprint of an exclamation mark etched into the wood and now etched into his mind; the moment he lost it all.


It was already a low point for Alan Hill, another day picking pockets, swindling kids on the train and mugging ladies in alleys. Frankenstein hated late payments and Alan was already late and now he had nothing to show but a rectangular bruise across his left eye. He looked down at the chess pieces before him and blinked liquid out of his swollen eye,

“Can’t see a damn thing,” he uttered in frustration, wiping the running tear off his cheek

“All I hear is excuses Al.” replied his opponent, a young man dressed in jeans and a plain black rounded t-shirt hidden below a white coat. They sat opposite one another on hard wooden stools with no backrest. The furnishing they were utilizing as a table was a make-shift wooden object that was neither table nor box.

“Do you see this swollen eye on my face?”

“Can you?”

Read the rest of this entry


Auburn Part 6 – The Dark Universe

If one were to look into the eyes of the man holding the key to salvation, the only key, the natural inclination would be to worship that man or at least show a deep level of commitment to him; an obligation that transcends the norm. When the man that holds that key is supposed to be dead…by your own hands…but is instead staring down at you intently, offering you salvation – well only one response is suitable.




He asks. I think about it for a few seconds, wondering to myself why I would offer the man who almost snuffed me out, a solution to his predicament. I can see that the ankle bracket doesn’t really fit around his ankle; it squeezes the skin tightly, pulling it taut above the folded leg pant. His eyes are a puffy red though one of them is almost closed to a slit thanks to the swelling rising from his cheek – a thin red line runs around his neck. The bruises and marks on his face bathe my chest with a calm rage, and a single word rises to my lips.


“Revenge?” He cocks his head to the side, his foot with the bracket shaking either from the pain or from the toxins creeping through his blood stream. “On…him?” He smiles but its not an amused smile; his eyes are emotionless . “There is no way you can find him.”

“There’s no need to find him. He’ll have to find us.”

“And why would he want to find us? We are as good as dead to him…like your auburn haired friend.” I cringe at the mention of that instigator; a part of me is angry at her for dragging me into this. Instead of answering him, I hold my hand out,

“Pass me your phone.” He eyes me warily as I descend the stairs until I am just one above him, taller for the moment. More out of curiousity than anything else, he reaches into his back pocket and produces a small black phone; the bright green screen and black font greet me. I bend down and grip the ankle bracket

“Lift your ankle.” I say. He grunts in dismay but concedes, holding on to the wall for balance. I dial the number on the bracket and after a few seconds, static bursts against the phone speaker, followed by the *click* of the bracket releasing its hold. Standing up I come face to face with his relieved and somewhat open face,

“Okay then hooded fellow,” he grunts out, rolling the pant leg back down, “What’s this revenge plan you have?” he asks. I hoist the laptop bag a little higher on my shoulder, feeling the weight of the baton in my pocket.

“I’ll tell you over some food. I’m starving.”


We arrive at my friends house just as he is about to leave the house – where he is going is obvious but he quickly hides the pipe and syringes into the kit bag in his hand. He is also, quite obviously, not pleased to see me and the tape over his nose doesn’t hide the blueish-purple bruise that has spread over it.

“What do you want?” He spits at me standing by his door – he pays no attention to the security guard even as the guards phone suddenly bursts to life in a melodious 8-bit ringtone; the guard reaches into his pocket and shuts the phone off.

“Do you want to get paid for helping me or not?” I ask my friend. He glances quickly at his watch, gives the security guard a cursory look and with a sigh steps aside to let us in,

“I got places to go so be quick about it… and it better be cash.”

“Its going to be delayed.” I reply, stepping into the cool interior. I’d barely made it in when he grabs me by the collar and begins to haul me out but the security guard steps in, breaks his hold and sends him sprawling into the house – the guard closes the door and stands in front of it.

“He’ll pay you triple…if you help us.” The guard says. My friends looks at each of us suspiciously, sniffling habitually, shaking miserably, his nose flaring angrily.

“You pay up front or forget it.”

“Fine” I reply, “You got some food?” He lifts himself up and gives me a dirty look that would have killed me on the spot had it been a weapon, but he moves to the kitchen anyway.

“What do you want?” he asks opening the fridge but I shove him out of the way, picking out a few things from within, though there isn’t much to choose from and most of the shelves are holding frozen bags of powder. I ignore them completely and put the food on the table,

“We need a favour from you …”

“As usual…” he cuts in, leaning against the fridge door protectively with his arms crossed.

“yea…as usual…but this isn’t like last time.” I butter the bread. “…yeah this is a bit riskier…” I put cold meat and cheese on the bread “…yeah we need you to be a decoy…”

“…for whatever trouble you were in?” He asks fearfully, “No ways. That thing I pulled off your leg was dripping some crazy toxic substance I’ve never seen before. Don’t want that running through my blood stream.”

“Yeah there’s better things running through it yeah?” I replied immediately without thought and after a while without remorse –  I saw him cringe.

“It’s a somewhat simple plan” the security guard chipped in, producing the ankle bracket that was once clipped to his ankle. “You will use this…”

“No freaken way is that thing touching my body! Didn’t you hear what I said about the poiso…” my friends interrupts, breaking away from the fridge to animatedly show his refusal.

“Would you shut up and listen!” I muffled out from between bites – his mouth remained open for a while as though he was going to say more but he shut it, his arms folding back against his chest defensively. The guard continued,

“You will use this as a sample to attract the attention of our guy, explaining to him that you found some guy in a hoodie delirious and clutching the laptop bag while his thickened veins pulsated, close to bursting. The evidence on the laptop, coupled by the amazing handy work of this toxin was enough to convince you – as a doctor – to seek him out as a potential business partner or something of that sort – you should be able to be convincing enough given your knowledge of the medical field.” The guard looks at me as though to corroborate the plan; I nod with a mouthful of what was left of my sandwich. The guard continues. “The idea is that you look to meet him face to face, discuss details…and that’s when we jump him. Simple enough yes?” My friend looks at each of us as though we are crazy but our determined faces must have convinced him – well either that or the wad of cash the security guard pulls from inside his shirt. With glazed eyes, staring at the bank notes, my friend nods in agreement. The guard sighs as his money lines the kitchen counter. I chew on.


Of course when one has a plan in his head, the plan never fails. Everything is counted for, probable situations countered and overcome with a simple conversation here or a baton to the back of the head here or a good beating there. The plans always come out positive for whomever is doing the planning, but reality tends to throw in unassailable curve balls that don’t merely tip the scale but crush it into a twisted ball of metal; and the first curve ball appeared the moment we stepped off the train.


My friend steps off the train first, the dark suit that drapes over his skinny shoulders glimmers somewhat – his graduation suit. He looks the part too, young entreprenuer seeking to make it to the big times by any means necessary – including a history of drug trafficking which is what we hope sets him up as a suitable candidate. Does it concern me that a childhood friend has become what he is today? A little bit, but the purple tinge that lines the veins on both my arms and on legs, pushes away any sort of sentimentality that would cloud my desire for revenge. He walks amiably through the crowds and I step into the crowds with my hoodie up, following far behind, so as to not attract any attention to myself as we head to a local Plaza that the guard says is one of Mr S’s hang out spots. My nerves are already strung out, I’m sick with worry as I realize the flaw in our plan and my stomach tumbles in my gut insistently – I’m hoping its not the sandwich. My gut makes another lurch once we approach the plaza, my hand is sweaty and slips around the handle of the baton which I am clutching tightly in my pocket; everywhere I look, men wearing chino pants and carrying briefcases make their way up and down the cobblestone pathway, laughing benevolently or talking animatedly into the devices against their ears. Anyone one of them could be Mr S. I scan the area and a groan escapes my lips as I realize even the guard looks lost and confused amongst the group. I turn around only to find my friend walking up the small set of stairs with a man holding a briefcase – they enter a side door and disappear behind its glass facade. With a wave, I alert the guard and we rush towards the entrance, past the irritated faces and into the cool dark interior.

“Damn!” I shout; my voice echoes down the passageway; the laptop bag lies empty on the floor. The guard and I run in. I am unaware of where we are but the guard takes lead, twisting and turning and leading us deeper into the building; I assume its because of his knowledge of the the place. A scream breaks the sound of our footfalls against the tiled floor. Rushing through we turn a corner and find not my friend or Mr S but a speaker against the wall, next to it a camera. A voice booms from the speaker, its Mr S

“Well well well, look what we have here, an unlikely alliance. I must say that this has been quite an excursion hey? How did you enjoy my 5 star hotel? Nice ey? With people who oh so generously leave their clothes out for you to change into. How nice.” The condescending voice breaks the paralyzing fear that had glued my feet to the floor. With a shout I pull the baton from my pocket, ready to bash the camera and speaker only to have it pulled away from me.

“Hey now, that would be rude of you to break my stuff. Gosh, it must be that hoodie. Hmm so yes, unfortunately there is no alliance here, you are alone surrounded mb people who have betrayed you, isn’t that right partner?” The speaker fizzles with static and I hear my friend over the intercom.

“Hey bud, listen, I’m not sorry about this. You freaken broke my nose and you just carry on, on your stupid high horse, rocking up at your leisure, drag me into this hell and I’m supposed to just jolly-well play along? Ha! End of the road for you buddy, I got quadruple what you were going to pay me and I get to see your fall!” The shock that fills my chest is unbearable and with no fight left in me, I watch the guard swing the baton towards my face.



The Alternative Universe (Unhinging Light), can be found here.  Enjoy and please let us know what you think.

All the previous posts of this story can be found on on my blog if you click here and you can find all of my fellow writer, Tyron’s, posts for this story here.

Nuts and Bolts – Short

6M5vs - Imgur

A soft drone emanated from somewhere within the bright white space that surrounded me. The corners of my vision were blurred, making everything look ethereal. Had I believed in heaven, I would’ve wondered if this was it…but I knew that wasn’t the case- not for me anyway. A dark silhouette, hazy like an apparition, appeared above me and with it the incessant drone grew louder. It took but a moment to realize that the moving silhouette and the drone correlated but by then I felt more than heard my screams as the drone vibrated against my skull and darkness took over…

but I wasn’t dying…

or dead.

“…you annoy me…” I heard against my ear from within the darkness. The voice, feminine, sounded familiar however I could not place it.
“Who…wh…” She cut me off with a tired sigh, the drone fading
“Just relax a while. I’m still running the analysis.”
“What analys…” A surge of energy shot through my entire body, jolting me upright. Vision returned to me as well as my memory, flooding back in a stream of flashing images.

“I tried again didn’t I.” I said, more as a statement than a question; there was no need for her to answer.

…Another failed attempt…

I reached up towards my forehead, feeling the traces of metal below the frayed skin. She brushed the fringe of white hair off her forehead, tucking it behind her ear with practiced ease, turning away from me as she did.

“You will continue to fail…that is how it is…” She walked away from me towards the door, her bare feet seeming to glide across floor with each step she took; her black toenails stood stark against the white floor. I could barely remember the first time I met her. It was such a long time ago, a time when I was…not just nuts and bolts. She turned as she reached the door,

“This is who you are now…accept your fate.”

Walking By Faith

Where do we go, nobody knows. We go wherever the wind blows.
~Faith – the spirited Adventurer ~

Faith hoisted the large, heavy backpack higher up on her shoulders, placing it in a more comfortable position on her back. She gripped the backpack’s dark straps firmly; they came across the front of her mud stained blouse, the blouse no longer a sunny yellow in colour but fading into a shade of yellow and brown. Her large straw hat hid her from the scorching heat, and the flow of long, light brown hair coming from it covered her ears, framing her demure face and reaching her shoulders. She looked ahead, her clear hazel eyes sparkling with excitement as she gazed across the empty, ridged landscape of the desert; there was a large tower ahead. It stood erect, rising from a sand dune that covered the bottom quarter of the immense structure. There was an eagerness within her. It seemed to bubble right through her as a large grin spread across her face and she began to rise up to her toes and drop back down to her heels in an energetic rhythm. She glanced down at her partner and snorted softly.Unlike her, young Aaron sat crossed legged on the coarse ground; despondent. His short golden brown hair lay matted to his head from sweat. The heat had taken every ounce of his energy, regardless of the short swim he had taken, at the oasis Faith had managed to direct them to. The mud had helped cool them off too but the prospect of traversing the sandy terrain with mud baking on their skin did not appeal to him at all, even if that would have cooled him down. He gazed up at the tower in the distance, shielding his light brown eyes from the sun so he could look at it without going blind. He sighed dejectedly; that was the last thing he wanted to do.

The travelers, completely unrelated, had been making their way across the desert for a week and a half now, each with their own personal goal. Faith sought adventure, yes, she lived with almost eccentric motivation that had led her to many different parts of the world. Yet this journey had become spiritual more than adventurous as she trekked through aesthetic landscapes varying from mountains and valleys to forests and jungles. Each region she traversed filled her with awe and wonder, a deep longing as well as a desire to know not only about its creation but also about its creator. Aaron on the other hand was an orphan, abandoned as a young boy by his parents claiming they were not ready for a child; he was pulling them down. He’d met his parents again later on and they had rejected him again. In his sadness and anger at his parents and a deeper bitterness for his unfair life, he lost all will and purpose to live. At the apex of the apartment building where his orphanage was located, he’d found himself on the edge of the building and gazing glazed eyed at the inevitable below him. Had Faith not appeared at that moment, Aaron would not have been alive this day. He found a new desire at that moment, a desire to figure out his purpose and know more about this ultimate Being that Faith spoke of so reverently yet so mysteriously about. Who indeed was the creator of those marvelous places Faith had traveled to? Where was He now? What purpose did He have for him? This journey had to have answers, just had to.

“Come now, enough rest let’s go!” Faith exclaimed as she grabbed the younger boy’s arms and pulled him up to his feet. Aaron grunted his disapproval but let himself be pulled up to his feet.
“Are we seriously going to climb that?” Aaron asked, unable and unwilling to alter his despondent tone of voice.

“Of course! This tower will challenge you beyond anything you have ever faced!” Faith exclaimed, falling back into her excited rocking, “In fact, there is a historical record of a young man, a little older than me, who not only climbed the tower but leapt from its top!” Aaron had a moment to remember his once strong desire to jump from his own high tower; so much had changed since then that the idea disturbed him.

“Not only did he jump, but he landed safely on a bale of hay at the bottom…he called it…the Leap of Faith. Exhilarating!” Faith’s face seemed to glow under her straw hat, her lips unable to contain the large grin that filled her face. Aaron, however, was skeptical…and fearful. It was as though Faith had saved him from one jump only to propel him towards another only this time…he was not looking forward to it. Not at all.

I hope you enjoyed the little excerpt from one of my short stories called Walking by Faith, playing around with that theme of walking by faith by having a character named Faith. The basis of this story is the idea of self discovery and also how God reveals himself in nature. Within the course of the story itself you will see that outworking of revelation through the eyes of energetic, optimistic Faith and the skeptical, despairing Aaron.

As always, please feel free to leave a comment, message etc. Thank you for taking the time to read and visit my blog. May you have a blessed week!

One for the Kids!

Approved Workmen Are Not Ashamed.

2 Timothy 2:15 – Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly handling the word of truth.

This is the verse that echoes through the church building Friday evenings, by a loud chorus of high-pitched individuals, ready for a great evening of fun and learning. Working with kids is such a blessing and I am indeed grateful to the Lord for having brought me to this ministry. At such a young and teachable age, kids are able to listen and take in what is being taught to them with a child like faith…don’t we sometimes wish we had that kind of faith: taking the truth at face value.

This blog post however is not about how teachable kids are or having a childlike faith, but rather on writing for kids as a means of reaching them without necessarily preaching to them. Writing stories for kids, stories that would contain biblical values, principles, truths, verses maybe even characters that the kids can embrace and relate to, all of whom would point to Christ and His work on the cross. Of course I would not want to minimize Christ nor His works, nor would I want to dumb down the gospel for the sake of my stories. However, I do want to reach the kids on a level that they can understand and grasp the crux of the stories, gaining some knowledge about the bible, about Christ, about the Holy Spirit and about God.

I found a great post  on writing biblical stories for children and its on par with what I am trying to achieve. It was written by Rose Ross Zediker who is a Christian author. The post below belongs to her and you can read the full article here:

Biblical Retelling

A Biblical retelling must stay true to the Bible verse. Don’t add characters or character names if they aren’t in the Bible story. Choose a point of view and stick with it. Most Biblical retellings are in third person, but some can be told in first person.

Rephrasing the dialogue of a Bible verse can get tricky. The language must be kid friendly yet not change the meaning of what the character says. Keeping your target age group in mind, find and replace the difficult words in the text with simpler words. Look for words children may be familiar with but don’t really understand. Sin is a simple word yet children may not really grasp its meaning, try to define those types of words by inserting an explanation of the word.

Enrich your story with the addition of emotions, actions and setting details. A few simple words like water jars and robes transport the children into the Biblical life style and holds their attention.

The first paragraph of The Parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25 NIV) says:

On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”

A retelling in the first person viewpoint of the expert in the law could begin:

Finally! I had a chance to test Jesus by asking a question. I knew the laws. I stood with my shoulders back and head held high. I looked into Jesus eyes. “Teacher,” I asked “what must I do now so someday I can live in Heaven?”

A third person viewpoint may be retold like this:

A smart man who knew the law wanted to test Jesus. The man smoothed his robes as he stood. He raised his eyebrows in question. “Teacher,” he asked, “what do I need to do now so I can live in Heaven when I die?”

In both retellings, actions were added to show the man’s confidence in his own knowledge. This makes the story more interesting for the child but doesn’t change the meaning of any of the original verse.

Contemporary Retelling

A contemporary retelling is a modern story with a beginning, middle and end. The theme of the contemporary Bible story retelling must reflect the lesson of the Bible verse. Apply the verse’s message to a real life situation. This real life situation must be believable so the child can apply the lesson to their daily lives. You can’t tag on the moral of the Bible verse at the end of the story. The lesson has to unfold during the story and the readers need to care about the characters and situation.

The following is a synopsis of a contemporary retelling of Luke 10:25:

A young girl and her mother wait at the bus stop. The young girl notices the people around her. She sees an old man in worn clothes and thick glasses approach the bench. The man politely asks a businessman for the time. The businessman frowns at the old man and refuses to tell him the time. The young girl can’t figure out why the businessman is being so mean to the old man. Two teen-age boys walk past the bus stop. Again, the old man politely asks for the time. One young boy looks at his watch but the other pulls him along, telling him not to talk to bums. The old man worries that he’s missed his bus. The old man looks sad and the young girl knows that Jesus would want her to help. She asks her mother if she can tell him the time. Her mother says yes and the young girl shows kindness to the old man by telling him the time so he doesn’t miss his bus.

This modern retelling synopsis is true to the Bible verse. Two sets of people won’t tell the elderly gentleman the time. However, an unlikely source, a young girl shows this stranger kindness. The theme of the Bible verse is shown in the last action of the contemporary story, the young girl helps the elderly man by telling him the time.

Copyright © 2007 Rose Ross Zediker

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