In Strange Ways

In Strange Ways

For many years I believed that the beginning started when I was twelve. It was only after reflection that I realized it had started long before my birth; at least it had for my parents. For me it started when I was fairly young. I wasn’t more than the distant flash of what was called a sunbeam. Sunbeams in that time were young children who had not yet risen to the age where the ritual into teenage years could be performed.

The first church I remember going to is now a faded yellow color, there are streaks of brighter yellow on the bricks as if God had built it for a quick place to pee. But in my memory it will always remain a dull gold. It was a small church, at least in comparison to the newer churches, and housed at least thirteen wards (not mental wards, though I questions this now, but the name for a timetable of the neighboring towns that came to it). Even though it was a small church and was all that I knew of my religion, the Mormon faith itself had a majority in the rest of the Utah public.
It was here that I first started questioning my faith, and it was here that my parents decided it wasn’t theirs.

Our family would have been considered avid church goers to the rest of the world, we attended a three hour meeting every week on Sunday, sometimes as early as half past seven in the morning, which should be considered an ungodly hour. We prayed at every meal, despite my stomach’s protest, and I remember being taught to pray every night. I prayed out loud for the first several years of my life. Besides church we attended mid-week meetings of Primary activities, Relief Society and Priesthood (I mention only these three because at the time there was only my Mama and Papa and me, be aware that besides these there were also Young Woman’s, Young Men’s, and Singles). Not that I ever went, I was busy with Youth theatre which was on the same day as Primary activities.

One of the few things that carried on past our religious phase was the weekly families get together; then called Family Home Evening. I later renamed it to – Awesome Family Movies on Sunday Time.

It was during the Sunday meeting that I first thought something disparaging about what I was being taught. After the Sacrament meeting (a time in which we practiced vampirism by imbibing the blood of Christ, and cannibalism by masticating his body), we were split into ages and sexes. I went to Primary.

The Primary school teacher sat across from me and the other sunbeams. We sat in a semi circle so that we could see the picture and diagrams she had brought. She smiled the smile that I have come to know very well. It has a touch of kindness, sympathy, and happiness all wrapped up in the sort of blankness that you usually only see painted on marionettes when the artist could think of no other emotion to portray. It is the smile of those who have spent more than twenty years believing everything they hear.

The teacher wore a dress that went past her knees and had a floral pattern that is now reserved for the exclusive use of old lady curtains. Her hair was tied back in a loose bun and was a mousy sort of brown color. We had dresses and suits on as well.
As we began the lesson she pulled out cardboard cutouts of characters and began to talk about them.

“Our Heavenly Father created man in His own image,” said the teacher, “and put him on the world He had created. He could see Earth because His planet is very close to ours. And after He put us here, He said that He would test us, to see if we were worthy to become like Him.” She danced the figure of God around the small circle. “Heavenly Father was once like us, mortal, He worked hard to become what he is, and He expects us to as well. But not everyone agreed with His plan. There was a man named Lucifer who thought Heavenly Father should tell us all what to do, then all of us could get into heaven and become like Him.” The figure of Lucifer argued with God, then another male figure came up to them. “Jesus, Heavenly Father’s first son, told Lucifer that it would be wrong to take our choices from us. Lucifer said that it would be worth it if we could all get into heaven. Soon the argument got out of hand and Lucifer, always jealous of Jesus’ close relationship with their Father, said that Heavenly Father had chosen Jesus’ plan out of favoritism. Heavenly Father became sad at this accusation and declared that Lucifer could not remain in Heaven if he opposed them. Lucifer refused to acknowledge Jesus’ true view and was cast down from heaven…”

I remember thinking at the time, besides ‘I’m starving, when is this over so I can have lunch?’, that Jesus and God were jerks for making Lucifer leave just because he questioned them. At the time my parents were teaching me the unorthodox view that I should question everything.

The next rite of passage for a Mormon child is baptism. This takes place when the child is eight, instead of a newborn. This is so they may have a choice in getting baptized or not… or at least have the illusion of choice. I remember the surprised look on my Bishop’s face when my Mama brought me in and I told him I didn’t want to get baptized. Don’t think it was because I was becoming enlightened at such a young age, it wasn’t. There was no overly complex theological reason for refusing it.
A week earlier my older cousin Anna had been baptized by her father, who was a part of the Bishopric, had her baptism as a private event. I was informed that I would have to get baptized with five other people.

To an eight year old this is the pinnacle of unfair.

I didn’t really notice at the time, but my Mama had an amused smile on her face through the whole conversation that followed my refusal. The bishop was very insistent that I should be baptized, until eventually he told me I had to because Heavenly Father wanted me baptized. The next week I was baptized by my Papa.
I was the only child ever baptized in my family.

I never really thought to question my faith again until fifth grade. It wasn’t in church, this time it was during an activity for plain old normal public school. My fifth grade teacher had put up on the board a list of priorities, I don’t remember very many of the now, but it was things like ‘Television, school, friends, etc.’ we went around the room and everyone erased one priority, one that we didn’t care about. I was the first and I erased ‘Popularity’ fairly quickly. At that point in time I hadn’t realized that I would need popularity to get jobs and get into Medical school, etc. What I was thinking was that what you looked like and thought shouldn’t be dependent on the people around you. I still hold to that.

My memory of what was erased throughout isn’t very good, but I do remember the end. We ended up with “religion” and “family” as our top priorities. I remember a very quiet classroom as the last person debated on what to erase, or perhaps my perception has been clouded with how I feel about it now. The boy stood up and moved toward the board. He picked up the eraser and passed it over family.

A sick sort of feeling settled into my stomach. It’s there every time I think about it. The teacher didn’t look surprised, no one did. We were always asked after we erased a priority why we did it. This time was no different, the teacher asked the boy why erased family instead of religion.

His reply, “I thought of it as a man putting a gun to my family’s head and threatening to shoot them unless I renounced my faith. I believe that I will see my family in the next life, but Heavenly Father wouldn’t let me see them in heaven if I renounced my religion.”

I looked down at my desk, and imagined the situation. I imagined a gunman shooting my Mama and Papa, my five-year-old brother, my baby brother… I thought about it for a long time, but I couldn’t reconcile letting someone shoot my family. I thought about off and on for years. This was the true start of theological dissonance for me. I couldn’t understand why God would punish someone for saving the person they loved.

I was disturbed for the rest of the day, but I didn’t talk to my parents about it. I didn’t think it was right to worry them, I wasn’t saying the church wasn’t true after all, and I didn’t want them to think I was. I didn’t know that at the time both my Mama and Papa were deep into studying the fundamentals and history of the church. I was used to Papa talking about history and philosophy, that was something that I enjoyed listening to ever since I was able to open doors.

Perhaps the whispered conversations that Mama and Papa had reached my ears and I internally processed them. I remember listening to Papa say in slightly disturbed slight angry terms that the type of horses in the Book of Mormon didn’t exist in the New World at the time. I remember a big black book that they would read (I discovered later that it was a book about the wives of Joseph Smith).

Later, I remember sitting out in the moon lit clubhouse and swing set Papa had built and listen to my Papa and Mama talk. Mama had basically left the church by this time, but Papa was still meticulously going through ever scratch of evidence he could find. Within the next few years we began to stop going to meetings, my Papa turned down a teaching position in the Elder’s Quorum, Mama stopped being the Relief Society first counselor (compassionate service leader).

I remember very well when they finally told me they didn’t believe in the church. We had just moved to our new house in Pleasant Grove, it was a hard change but it pales in comparison to the whole foundation of my childhood being yanked out from under me. Though perhaps that isn’t a very good comparison, it makes it sound like it was a bad thing. It did hurt, like all change does at first, but it leaves a shallow scar that just emphasizes other features instead of detracting from them.

I remember sitting on our wood floor in the kitchen eating (we didn’t have a table yet), my back was up against the arch. I was twelve by this point. My Mama and Papa came up to me and told me that we weren’t going to be going back to church, that they didn’t believe in the Mormon faith. Then they handed me an envelope from Aunt and Uncle.

It was a letter saying that I could go to church with them since my parents weren’t, I don’t remember the exact wording, but I do remember what happened after. My parents told me it was my choice; that they wouldn’t make me give up my faith. That I could go with my Aunt and Uncle if I wanted to. That’s when the very movie like flashback happened. I remembered clearly that moment in the classroom, when the word family had been erased forever. No one was holding a gun to my family’s heads, they weren’t about to be crushed by an anvil if I decided to go with my Aunt and Uncle. But I was old enough at the time to realize, this was the type of decision that changed relationships forever. If I decided to go with my Aunt and Uncle I would lose the close relationship I had with my parents, and I treasured that. I treasure it even more now that I’m older. I wouldn’t give it up for the world.

And I didn’t… because family was a higher priority to me then religion.

That was the beginning. Not an end, but me being on one stage and then taking a step through the back curtains only to find another stage on the other side. It took a while. I floundered in those curtains for a long time, but when I ended up at the new stage I found it was beautiful.

Most people talk about the innocence, magic, and fantasy they left behind in childhood, I never regret leaving that. The wonder of the world, the strange exotic places, the food, the creatures of the sea and sky, the unknown of the stars, the beautiful people, the majestic buildings, the snow covered mountains, the rise of empires the fall of empires, the adaptability, the innovation, the sparkling dust that is only visible in sun or moon, the birth of kittens…

Life. Life, cannot be replaced with the magic of childhood, there is no comparison. Life is huge, it’s now, and it’s real. It’s something that we touch, and hear, and see every day. It’s beautiful.

That was the beginning. It opened my mind to something so wonderful it could never be expressed in mere words, or even pictures. And I can never express the gratitude to my parents, I can never express how much they’ve given me without even trying, they’ve let me fly higher than any religion would have let me. They’ve given me the ability to be me; the young girl full of questions, and curiosity.

Be Thankful

Notes: I was being very cynical when I was writing this... happy Thanksgiving everyone!



Be thankful for clothes so fine
Be thankful that the sun will shine
Be thankful for the straight standing pine
Be thankful for food to dine.

Be thankful for freedom rare
Be thankful for our great health care
Be thankful for the dreams to be billionaires
Be thankful that we don't swear.

Be thankful that we have no more slaves
Be thankful that our military is so brave
Be thankful we stop all knaves
Be thankful for being saved.

Being thankful can not be forced.
And I have to wonder why I should just acquiesce.

Clothes so fine bought with money that is mine
Shining sun, made by no one
Tall straight pine, knocked down to build a rail line
Food and juice, could be given for someone else to use.

Freedom is through, only wanted for you
Health care not so great, you can find better during a prison break
Billionaires are nice, but only for a price
Swearing is small, compared to the violence of the world's brawls.

Slaves were freed through grace, we made them in the first place
Bravery is relative, when so many are corruptive
But what are knaves, if not someone else's braves
No need to be thankful, having someone push their gospel.

So remember this Thanksgiving,
To never push your own cheering
To let everyone do their own thinking
On what it means to be thanking.

Myra Anne

Myra Anne



Come home, come home
Myra Anne, Myra Anne
The sun is setting
Myra Anne, Myra Anne

The sky’s turned red
Myra Anne, Myra Anne
Come home, come home
Myra Anne, Myra Anne

Run home, run home
Myra Anne, Myra Anne
The red rain’s a’fallin’
Myra Anne, Myra Anne

Is it too late?
Myra Anne, Myra Anne
The lightning here explodes
Myra Anne, Myra Anne

All the heroes are gone
Myra Anne, Myra Anne
Sprint home, sprint home
Myra Anne, Myra Anne

Lay down, lay down
Myra Anne, Myra Anne
You’re home, you’re home
Myra Anne, Myra Anne

Don’t cry no more
Myra Anne, Myra Anne
Red rain’s ran through
Myra Anne, Myra Anne

It’s time to sleep
Myra Anne, Myra Anne
Don’t be scared of the dark
Myra Anne, Myra Anne

Detinos on the Easter Holidays

Detinos on the Easter Holidays

Warnings: Drunkenness, underlining sexual tones, two men kissing, pessimistic view of Easter. Detinos in general.

Notes: All of Detinos' butlers are called Geoffrey, in case you couldn't tell from the previous stories. This is a fantasy. Detinos is immortal in a young forever kind of way.



“Because it’s really a fertility holiday,” muttered Detinos to the empty room. The vodka bottle in his hand dropped unceremoniously to the ground. “So why, am I not out getting laid, by several people?” He chuckled in self pity. Groaning the immortal curled up on himself.

Detinos was situated quite comfortably on his couch in his condo. The condo was at the top of Detinos World in New York. The condo’s walls were all glass making the city’s tiny lights seem like stars. Especially with how Detinos’ head was spinning. Wouldn’t it be weird if the lights fell into the sky? The immortal giggled. Oh, he was way too drunk.

“Sir?”

He hadn’t been this drunk in century.

“Sir?”

This wasn’t his fault.

“Sir?”

Why was he remembering this now? He locked these memories away. Deep, deep into the darkest places. In the alleys where lights never came on in the night.

“Sir, are you alright?”

He hated Easter.

“Sir! Do you need a Doctor?”

Idiotic Pagan turned Christian holiday. This is your fault entirely Geoffrey.

“I don’t need a Doctor. Don’t be silly Geoffrey.” His eyes turned up to his butler. This one had black hair, and he was young. Very young, why he couldn’t be more then thirty-five! His eyes had closed involuntarily. “I am just spectacularly drunk.” He blinked as his head was pulled up and then placed on a lap. Geoffrey’s lap. A hand brushed his forehead, and he snickered. “You used to do this all the time, on Easter,” he whispered. The hand paused.

“Who was he?”

“Who was who?” Detinos murmered.

“The original Geoffrey. Who was he?” Detinos opened his eyes again and looked up at the blurry face. He frowned.

“No! I can’t” Detinos shouted gripping the man’s hair almost desperately. Blood was caked in the chocolate colored locks.

“It’s alright. I want you to live Captain,” the man smiled, his hand came up and brushed Detinos’ hair back from his eyes. “My Captain.”

“But-“ Detinos hissed with tears in his voice. Another hand brushed his neck possessively.

“He’s fading, do it quickly,” said a voice that sounded like three.

“A lesson that I had to relearn,” the immortal said in a sober voice. His teal eyes squeezed shut in anguish. He sat up slightly and brushed his lips against the butler’s. “Geoffrey…” Detinos gave a shuddering dry sob, but no tears came.

“Detinos,” whispered Geoffrey. The immortal kissed the man again.

“Don’t leave me.”

It was another hour before the immortal had fallen into a fitful sleep. The butler looked down at the sleeping man and shook his head. “That’s not my name,” he said softly. He moved gently away, placing Detinos’ head onto the soft pillow below. The new Geoffrey moved over to the glass walls and looked down on the city celebrating. He smiled ironically. The city celebrated the rebirth of Christ, after they had tortured and murdered him. All so they could feel better about themselves.

He moved away and pressed a button on the remote. Curtains appeared in the ceiling and dropped gracefully in front of the glass blocking out the burning lights. Geoffrey sighed and moved out of the room, leaving his employer to his nightmares.

Detinos shivered and opened his eyes. He looked at the door as it clicked shut. He sighed slightly and began to sit up. A hand, the same hand, pressed upon his neck keeping him stomach down on the couch. The immortal froze before grim smile appeared on his lips.

“What do you want?” he asked in a drawl that had a tint of drunkenness. An older man stepped into his view. He was smiling grimly, the white hair flowing gently down until his shoulders. His outfit seemed to blend perfectly into the shadows. He leaned heavily on a cane and his back was slightly bent. The Curmudgeon, was the form that he had decided to appear in. The hand on his neck tightened slightly at the immortal’s tone. He glanced behind himself to catch the sparkle of silver. This man was middle aged, strong sturdy shoulders. The Caviler, sat on his haunches straddling Detinos’ lower back. Now where was the third?

Ah, Detinos twitched slightly as he felt a hand caress his calf. The last was a younger man, in poet clothes a charming smile and dimples. The Swain, was possessively moving his hand further up his leg. The Triangle, trio, (Detinos snorted slightly) the trinity, had descended onto the world.

“I am of course flattered,” Detinos said trying to keep his mind straight, “that you would visit me.”

The Curmudgeon gripped the immortal’s chin roughly, jerking his eyes up to meet his. “We wanted to make sure-“ he said angrily.

“-that you were still ours-“ continued the deep undertones of the Caviler.

“-and hadn’t given yourself over to love,” finished the higher voice of the Swain. Detinos gave a harsh laugh.

“Love is a figment of humanity’s over active imagination,” the immortal said dismissively. “Why would I give myself up for such a thing?”

“We are glad-“ said the Swain with a sweet smile.

“-that his death-“ grumbled the Curmudgeon.

“-wasn’t in vain,” whispered the Caviler. Detinos stiffened under the hands.

“My memories,” he said angrily. “You brought them forward. Why? Why now? Why today?”

“Today is the day of martyrs,” replied the Caviler.

“Today is the day of rebirth and renewal,” said the Swain messaging Detinos’ upper thighs with both hands.

“Today is the day of-“ the Curmudgeon smirked and brushed Detinos’ lower lip with his thumb. “- fertility.”

“Ah,” Detinos said almost smugly, but the wavering grief took away from the effect. “So that is what you want.” The Swain breathed in, and the Cavilear let out a woosh of air, ending with the Curmudgeon sighing.

“Yes,” the three voices said as one. “Show us that you are still ours, our agent.” Detinos obediently opened his mouth as the Curmudgeon kissed him.

“Good,” the other two whispered. Detinos shut his eyes and all the lights went out.

Detinos meets Area 51

Detinos meets Area 51

Warnings: Detinos naked, violence, implied drug use, sexual innuendos, cross-dressing, some language.
Notes:There was this whole other scene I was going to add with the aliens, but decided not to since it was already so long. Maybe I'll write it later.

It hadn’t been too strange for Detinos to wake up on an unfamiliar cold floor. Not since the sixties had started in the U.S. at least. It was quite common for the last few months. Usually though he woke up with someone (or several someones) either on top or under him (or beside him or…). The glass walls were new too. At least the lack of clothing was the same. He wondered if he should bother getting up.

His headache said no, he shouldn’t. In fact, he groaned as he attempted to open his eyes, I won’t even bother waking up. This seemed for a plan, except for that incessant tapping.

“Would you mind terribly,” Detinos muttered, “stopping that bloody noise.” The tapping stopped, and he nearly smirked. “Wonderful.” His eyes flickered open and he stared at the woman in a lab coat. Lab coat. Bollocks.

He hummed and put his arms under his chin, not bothering to get off his stomach. His eyes fixed on the lab coat. Detinos did smirk when the woman took a slight step back. “Going to probe me sweetie?” he asked in a mocking tone. The woman blushed.
“Y-you speak English,” she stammered. “English- English.” Sharp this one.

“Yes, England is where the language originated from,” Detinos said. He licked his lips seemingly unknowing. He pushed himself up slightly and pressed his hand against the glass wall. “Think you can get me some water my dear? I am parched.” The woman blushed again and moved to the side of the… room, though perhaps large tube is a better description of the glass containment unit. Detinos bit back a snort at that thought.

“Mira!” said an angry voice. A male doctor came storming into view; his white lab coat billowing behind him. Detinos tilted his head and a smirk began to form on his lips. The woman’s (Mira as she seemed to called) blush deepened as the man grabbed the cup of water and placed it back on the desk. “You aren’t supposed to speak with the subjects.” Ah ha, Detinos rolled his eyes. So this is the famed Area 51.

“Now, now,” he said in a condescending mock calming voice, “so informal. Surely she deserves to be called doctor? That’s the new ‘in’ thing these days, equality of the sexes and all that.” The man turned on the immortal. Well if looks could kill, grinned Detinos.

“Shut up alien,” said the man. Detinos gave a surprised roar of laughter.

“Alien!?” he whooped in joy. The man’s face began to turn an awful shade of deep red, in anger. “You really have no idea what you’re doing do you?” Detinos’ eyes sparked with malicious mirth. “You – you- little mortals playing with toys you don’t comprehend. Didn’t you read the instruction manual?” His hand pressed up against the container. He stretched and pulled himself up. He pressed his forehead against the cool container. Both hands were splayed above his head. He groaned and opened his eyes. He was gratified when the two doctors stepped back. “Some of us are more than just a… chocking… hazard.”

The man slammed his fist against the glass tube right where Detinos’ eyes were. The immortal wiped his tongue luridly across the spot where the knuckles were. He chuckled at the man’s disgusted look. The male doctor spun around (lab coat billowing once again).

“Uhm,” said Mira, blushing lightly, “here’s your water.” Detinos watched carefully as the ground of the glass tube slid open. He glanced down and saw the water had been slid into a cubby of some sort. Handy, he thought and picked up the cup.

“Thank you my dear,” he said. His eyes watched Mira move away from his tube before he spoke up again. “You don’t have to let him push you around.” She jumped in surprise.

“Oh, but-“

“There aren’t many woman Doctors, despite it being 1965. It would have taken a lot of courage to go through all the training,” he tilted his head slightly. “You must be stronger than this.”

Mira’s brown hair fell lightly in front of her face. “Yes,” she said sadly. “I – you’re right.” She looked up again , but her eyes weren’t on Detinos. They had followed the path of the other doctor.

“Ah,” said the immortal knowingly. “You’re in lust with him.” She blushed brightly again.

“In love,” she corrected. Detinos’ lips twitched.

“There is no such thing my dear,” he said.

“Surely you’ve been in love?” asked Mira in shock.

“What need have I with love?” he shrugged the comment off. “No, trust me it only causes people to walk all over you. Lust is natural, pleasurable. Love is a socially constructed concept to bring some honor to the rutting we are compelled to do.” His eyes twinkled in sudden mirth. “Though I think you must be some sort of crazy to want him, but not me.” He pouted. “You wound me truly.”

Mira gave a small laugh, and another blush. “You should not say such things.”

“And if I don’t say them who will?” Detinos said with a tragic sigh. “There is no one here to expand on the splendor that is me. Though of course you are a beautiful thing to look at as well.” Mira chocked back laughter.

“Now, I know you are teasing.”

“I am quite serious,” said Detinos said in a mock insulted tone. “You have beautiful hair. Like silky European chocolate, it falls into your face so gracefully.” Mira began to blush darker. “And you’re neck is so long and slender. It compliments you’re delicate shoulders, which are strong showing your independence.” Detinos smiled lavishly as Mira began to stutter. “Should I go lower?” he purred.

“No,” she squeaked. “I’ll just… I’ll just be going.” Detinos low chuckle followed her out of the room.

It took only a few hours for Detinos to get bored enough to put into play an escape plan. He leaned gracefully against the cool glass and hoped that he wouldn’t be in the ghastly base over night. He would be freezing otherwise.

His eyes had begun to close when the swishing sound of the door opening. How very Doctor Who of them, thought Detinos. He heard the hiss of anger and his eyes opened. The male doctor was back. The fist was banging on the glass tube again too.

“Get up!” the man hissed. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Me?” Detinos replied innocently. “I’ve done nothing.”

“This,” the man pointed at the sexual innuendos that had been scratched into the glass. Detinos had a fun time coming up with them after he had broken the cup.

“That,” repeated the immortal dully. “I didn’t do that.” There was a frustrated growl from the man. The fist slammed against the tube again, before the man backed up and pulled something out of his jacket. A gun, Detinos almost laughed in delight. The glass tube suddenly slipped open.

“Get out,” the man said. Detinos held his hands up and jumped from the glass tube. Before the man could step back, the immortal’s hand had struck. The gun was whipped out of the doctor’s hand, and Detinos’ knee was in his diaphragm causing the air to whoosh out of his body. The doctor collapsed gasping to the ground. Detinos kicked him elegantly in the shoulder causing the doctor to fall on his back.

The immortal climbed quickly onto the man and gripped his wrists in one hand. The gun remained in his other hand. He hadn’t even needed to drop it during the encounter. He ‘tsked’ disappointedly at the man.

“Really you shouldn’t underestimate some based on their height,” he said with a grin. Indeed the doctor had to have a good half a foot on the immortal. He had broader shoulders too, not that it had made any difference. He placed the gun on the ground within easy reach. His hands began to search the doctor, professionally of course. He pulled the hand cuffs that were under the lab coat out and clipped them to the man’s wrist. He looped it around the steel stand that had held his glass tube, before clicking on the next wrist.

“Don’t worry,” Detinos said, spotting the fear in the doctor’s eyes. “The worst I’ll do is kill you.” He laughed as the man’s eyes narrowed. “Not reassuring? It should be.” He grabbed the gun again and pointed it at the man’s head. “Now, where are my clothes, and more importantly; where is my gun?”

“B-back room,” the man gasped out. Detinos stood up quickly and made his way to the back room.

The doctor had spoken truly. His gun and clothes were indeed there. He donned them with more haste then usual and slipped out of the room again. He ignored the doctor’s curses as he headed out the only other door.

He wasn’t surprised to find a large warehouse like room with many different species caught in glass tubes. Many of them were aliens, others he was sure had come from different dimensions. His eyes flickered to a slight sound to the side of him. His gun had been drawn and fired before the last echoes of the clang had faded away. A doctor he didn’t know lay dead beside the alarm. He had never reached it.

Detinos made his way to the switch in the center of the room. “Well,” he said allowed to the silent specimens around. “I need a distraction. Do you mind if I release you?” There was a sudden roar of approval that caused a ringing in Detinos’ ears. His finger flicked the switch and all the glass tubes rose disappearing into the high ceiling above.

There was pandemonium after that. Different species ran every which way, some attacked the security guards that had appeared, others crashed out the windows. Detinos wound his way through the crowd, easily avoiding every blow, breath of fire, and large foot. He’d made it to the exit within a few moments.

He stepped out of the building and brought his gun out. Security yelled at him to freeze. He grinned slightly as they became flustered when he didn’t stop. They opened fire and Detinos found himself dodging bullets. His gun hand shot and hit every guard he aimed at. In his other hand his staff twirled deflecting the bullets that he wasn’t able to dodge.

There was another shout from one of the commanders and the gate around the compound began to close. Detinos darted forward, tucking into a roll to avoid the bullets. The gate clanged shut behind him. He gave a whoop of exhilaration before continuing to run. He wasn’t exactly sure how far he ran before coming to the town. It was probably a few good miles. He was out of breath by the time he got there. Not good, he thought sadly. During my time in the underground I could have ran longer than that. Hmm, I think it’s time to give up the delightful drugs that those hippies introduced me to.

He glanced behind himself and spotted a light on the horizon. Time to hide then, he thought. He gripped the ledge of the nearest building and pulled himself into the window right before a truck passed by him. There was a slight squawk of indignation and a on flipped a light. Detinos glanced up and saw a twenty-something year old girl looking at him with wide eyes.

He smiled. “Pardon the intrusion, but might it be possible for me to borrow some of your clothes?” The girl nodded in shock and Detinos went quickly over to the closet. He began to go through it, wrinkling his nose at most of the dresses. Eventually he found a pretty black dress with rose print. Smiling he turned to the girl who stared now with curiosity at this strange man.

“May I change this slightly?” he asked. She giggled and nodded. It was about a half hour before Detinos was able to finish his disguise. He was lucky that he had let his hair grow out in the style of his hippie friends, and that he had shaved his beard recently. It took a simple bra stuffed with water balloons to finish it off. The girl had been quite helpful with that part.

Detinos hummed in thought and looked over his shoulder. “How do I look my dear? Sexy?” He grinned at her slight chuckle when he ran his hand up his inner thigh. The girl nodded and blushed. “Then I bid you farewell.” He bent to kiss the girl’s hand, but was pulled up sharply and kissed. “Hmm,” he said in agreement. “Till we meet again.”

With that he jumped out of the window. Perhaps I should lay low in Mexico until this blows over, he thought with a sigh. I must get a hold of Geoffrey so we can make arrangements.

Don't Look Back

Don't Look Back
Warnings: Creepy



Take one look
You’ll have to turn again
Take two looks
It’s time to rein your eyes
Take three looks
Now your neck won’t spin
Take four looks
Shoulders have become stiff
Take five looks
Hips have begun to quiver
Take six looks
Now you can’t feel your lids
Take seven looks
Knees are locked
Take eight looks
Ankles have been killed
Take nine looks
Toes are frozen, you’ve been sucked in
Take ten looks
You’ll never move again

Climbing Rope

Climbing Rope
Warnings: Depressing



Because you know, we used to get along
Throughout the years, and now it’s all wrong
We’re breaking apart, don’t think I blame you
But don’t expect me to blame me, I’m not going to make do

Because you know, I wish I’d become less subdued
These past months all you’ve done is brood
I can’t seem to catch you as you fall
All I’ve done is tied the rope just to forestall

Because you know, the only person that can climb
Is you, but you won’t even try to wash off the grime
We’re falling apart, I’m falling as well
Don’t think you’re the only one, to hear the sound of the knell