Storytelling, Week 11, Out of The Shadows

Bali

by:Fabrice  Florin

He sat in the corner of the dark closet. Covering his mouth with his right hand, he muffled the sound of his heavy breathing. Surely, what he saw was only a dream. His mind was racing. “What should I do”, he thought to himself. “I know they saw me.”

Brad was a college student at the university of Oklahoma. He was a tall kid with brown hair that was always cut High and Tight. He had the physique of a gymnast. He was trained to fight from a very early age by his father. He came from a long lineage of men and women from the warrior tradition. His dad was a Captain in the 101st Airborne at Charlie Battery first of the thirty-first back then.

His mother was a Sargent in the Oklahoma City Police Department. He was raised in the honor culture that often follows the warrior tradition. Courage, truth, and leadership were rewarded. While fear, emotion, and lack of motivation were viewed in the same light as degenerate behaviors. To behave dishonorably would bring shame to himself and his family.

He loved his family more than many kids in his age group. Since his mom was a cop, they were extra careful to keep tabs on him. Not because they didn’t trust him, but mom was always afraid of her work coming home. There were stories of criminals exacting revenge on the family of their jailers. Because of that protective fear, Brad did not have the same liberty as his peers. This kept him at home more often than other kids solidifying the relationship with his family. Brad longed for a friend, but his parents seemed overbearing to his peers.

Brad’s dad was his best friend. Since he pasted the Q course, everything changed. Dad graduated the special forces selection, but was gone all the time these days. Brad would push his chest out and declare how proud he was of his father when discussing this with his peers. 

“My dad is Warrant Officer in Fourth Group Special forces.” He boasted. Feeling hollow on the inside, he spoke the words. “I wish dad was here”, he thought to himself.

Brad was top of his class in the University ROTC program. Planning to follow in his father’s footsteps, he trained all the time. The other cadets in his class did not like looking so far behind him in their workouts. This kept them at a distance from him.  His workout partner was not a student. He was the only guy that could handle the same workouts at the gym. They didn't talk much, but both seemed to enjoy the silent company. Brad was careful about who he would keep company, but anyone that pushes that hard must be a good person.

After one of their workouts, Brad turned to his workout partner, "What is your name?"

“I’m glad you finally asked, you can call me Krait”, He said.

Krait and Brad grew to be close friends over the next few months.

“What do you do for a living Krait”, Brad asked one afternoon.

“I'm in sales”, he smirked.

“What do you sell?

“Compliance”, bouncing his eyebrows on his face. “You should come by my place some time and I’ll show you what I mean.”

Brad agreed to meet him at his house after the workout. Following Krait in his car, he noticed that this house was the same house he passed everyday on the way to school. They drove up to the house and he followed Krait to the front door. Brad’s phone rang. It was his dad!

“Dude! it’s my dad, I got to take this one. Hello? Dad?”, he stood on the doorstep.

“Brad listen to me! Do not trust anyone you have met in the last year outside the family. You are in serious danger. Tell your mom that I have the………destroyers are coming……”, the sound of static over took the phone.

“Dad? Dad? Hello! That was weird”, Brad dropped his arms to his sides in sad frustration. “Krait, I have to go check on my mom.”

“Wait, don’t you want to see what I do?”

“I do, but this seems like it might be an emergency.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“No, I’ll call you later.”

Brad went home to tell his mother, but she wasn't there. He called the station, but they said she left some time ago. Since its Over-Nights this month, she should be home sleeping. He knew something bad was going on. He heard fear in his father’s voice.

Brad waited until sunset. Now, he was concerned. He called her old partner to get the force looking for her. They put out an all points bulletin.

"Don't worry kid, we will find her. She is one of the toughest I know", said the Lieutenant on the other line.

Brad thought it would be best to go look for her squad car around the city. He noticed that he was driving by Krait’s place. "Maybe Krait wouldn't mind helping in the search", he thought to himself. "Plus, I could really use a friend right now."

He knocked, and no one answered. So, he went around back to see Krait and another speaking in the court-yard. It was decorated with strange writing that looked ancient. The two men were well dressed. Both appeared to have returned from some formal evening dinner. Brad paused as he overheard the two speaking around a fire pit with a large altar in the front. There were paintings of demons on the wall doing strange yoga poses with their tongues hanging out. Curious, Brad slowly moved in for a closer look.

“Look Bali, I tried to get the kid into the house, but he had to leave. We will get another chance.”

“Idiot, he needs to be neutralized before he understands his role. Don’t forget who his father is.”

Yama

by: Vassil

"I know, I know", seemingly off put. "There is no evidence his father knows that they are the descendants of Yama's child. Those genetics can't help them if they don't know about it. You worry too much old friend. I've spent time with this kid. He has no clue why he is so talented."

Brad thought, "Who is Yamma, and why are they trying to neutralize me?"

"I got to mom, she no longer a problem." Brad snapped a stick under his foot and both turned toward him. Their faces were some how different. He squinted. They walked toward him into the light.

"Oh my Gawd!" he stumbled backwards. Bali's features were unnaturally exaggerated. His eyes were red and he looked like he had make-up on. His skin was blue topped with orange hair. He had a long tongue that hung down about two feet from his chin. Looking over at Krait, he had the same costume on.

"This is not Halloween, why were they dressed like that?" Brad thought.

 Quickly, both of their features changed into normal facial features.

"Brad, wait! Its not what you think. We need to talk to you. Don't be scared" They were both hideous monster shape shifters.

Terrified, Brad was stepping backwards starring at the two men that were now running toward him. He turned and ran into Krait's house. Out of breath, he jumped into the closet.

Bibliography:
Mahabharat: public domain version
Krishna Key: The Krishna Key

                      By: Ashwin Sanghi

Author's Note:
This was a fun experiment. I just started writing. I took pieces of me and my experiences to make it unique. I was inspired by one of our classmates to infuse a point of a story. I took from the general feel of Indian Myths. They all seem to make the assertion that those that are moral and behave upright will be elevated with wealth and authority. I also was moved by the Mahabharata war. It seemed that Krishna (God) picked a side and insisted that the participants should jump on board with him to allow these spirits the opportunity to be reunited with Vishnu in the sky. All the major players in these stories, especially the avatars and human/god hybrids, have supernatural gifts that led to making them very skilled in the art of war. I tried to get that across in this piece. The young man being chased is the son of a great warrior. He is likely to be something special in the future. The special forces fourth group have a supernatural reputation for those that are in the know. I was also inspired by that moment when Krishna showed himself to be God or his supernatural form. I thought if Krishna can do that, why cant demons do that too. I like trying to do original stuff. For one reason or the other, I like writing scary twists. I feel like disturbing imagery invokes a strong feeling in readers that will resonate for a longer period of time. Maybe I'm just projecting that on to my readers. I started the story with that first paragraph and challenged myself to use elements of the stories we have been reading and this is where I landed.  What do you think?