Day 8 of 365

Who’s ready for this ending?

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six

Verona fired first. He shot Fell squarely in the chest with a laser, killing the alien. Ellis could be heard screaming as far as the street. Mr. Sandburg shot Verona in the right shoulder and reloaded, preparing to hit Verona in the head. The other Sandburg aliens scattered.

The shooting only lasted a minute but when Verona was done he’d shot everyone but Ellis, Marilyn, and Mr. Sandburg. Verona was bleeding heavily. Marilyn was angry at watching her family and friends die. Her inner voice screamed in agony watching family members dying. She ignored it. Mr. Sandburg had one last shot.

The sirens could be heard in the distant. Police were coming. The aliens could also hear another alarm, one none of the humans could. It was a buzzing like bees that echoed in their heads. The sound of angry officials. They had made a disturbance, and in their exile that could mean death.

“Better end this now,” Mr. Sandburg said. Verona sighed and nodded. They shot at each other. Both died moments later.

Marilyn was left standing next to Ellis her mind felt blank and a creeping loneliness began to fill her. She was alone. She looked at the bodies of Diana, Preston, Fell, Derrik, Mrs. Sandburg, and Mr. Sandburg. All slain for a foolish bargain that probably wouldn’t work. She found herself crying. The emotions of this host holding on to her. Marilyn stumbled out of the house and ran into the woods just as someone knocked on the door.

Stories of the night the Sandburgs were slain became common and turned into ghosts before the lore took hold of the house. No one knew who the strange man was and why he held an odd weapon. Even as long as Ellis lived no one understood what had gone down.

Ellis was the first cast as a victim of the crimes, but the press turned on him making him the murderer for a while. He was declared a lunatic, admitted to several hospitals upon making claims that the Sandburgs were all aliens. Let out on good behavior he finally found an alien of whom recognized him. He babbled to her about everything he had seen and heard, asked many questions, and finally realized it was Marilyn’s alien. But the moment he did she was gone leaving him feeling insane. All that he could conclude was that he made the mistake of returning to the house.

The End.


Day 2 of 365

Here’s part two. I need to pick an earlier time to do these at. Hope you like the continuation.

Part One if you haven’t had a chance to read it.



Ellis did not like the way Mr. Sandburg stared at him with dark eyes. He nearly lost his nerve. “Mr. Sandburg, please tell me–”

“If you come back Ellis I will kill you,” Mr. Sandburg’s alien snapped. Mr. Sandburg tried to scream again for help.

Ellis was taken aback. He’d fancied Diana for the past year but had he’d known how rude her father was he wouldn’t have wasted hours daydreaming about going out with her. He swallowed his pride and walked away from the house feeling that there wasn’t something right about Mr. Sandburg’s abrupt anger. It would be many hours of analyzing the moment and weeks after the Sandburgs had suddenly disappeared from the town that he realized his mistake. It wasn’t that he left the house it was that he returned…again.

When Ellis returned, slipping around the back part of the house to see if he could get Diana outside to talk, well that’s when Derrik knocked him out. It was a shovel of course. Straight over the top of Ellis’s head, any lower and he could have died. Derrik dragged him inside and tied him up.

The Sandburg aliens stood around him discussing the best way to address this horrible mess. It’d been nearly 300 years since they’d had a similar issue. At that time they were aboard a ship sailing between America and Europe. The family they had assimilated into were beginning to draw attention considering they were stuck on the boat with the same people. Several people brought the strange reactions of the Hendale family to the attention of the captain. It was discussed that they should be thrown overboard should they continue to threaten guests on the boat. The situation escalated quickly leaving several people dead and others in a deadly hostage situation. In the end, the aliens had escaped by assimilating into a pod of dolphins. The rest of the crew and guests upon the boat found themselves paranoid and starving until they drifted into an island.

“Well I think we should kill him before he alerts the police,” Diana said with her hands resting on the knife.

“We can’t kill him,” Marilyn said. “His murder will attract more attention than us letting him go. At least we can spin the story that he’s going crazy if we let him go. Not that many people believe in aliens these days.”

“I agree with Marilyn,” Preston said.

“I think you’re all giving me a headache,” Fell interjected.

Mr. Sandburg stood and quietly said, “I think we should let him go. I’ve done research and if we tell enough tall tales around the idea that he is impulsive and ignorant, well I presume he’ll be considered crazy.”

“I think you should let me go,” Ellis said. He’d become conscious a couple minutes before and was feeling a bit nauseated.  “I can say I hit my head on something.” He glared at the family.

To Be Continued

Untitled “Demon” – Part 3

I still have no clue where I’m going with this story, and clearly I’ve been watching too much Charmed.

Part 1
Part 2

“You know, you’re not a very polite roommate!” he said grasping a plain white tee and dressing himself.

“Oh please, Roland. Like you’re ever polite when I’m dressing,” Raymond said dropping the discharge papers on her bottom bunk. “Also, you’re not our roommate.”

“At least you got him to cover up that nasty belly hair,” Jenny said as she kicked back in her desk chair in the corner. “He’s been a free man since you got yourself in the meds for the weekend.” She pulled at her dirty-blond ponytail and grinned at Roland who glared.

“I see you’ve been putting him in his place,” Raymond replied with a giggle as she sat back into her cot.

“I feel like she tried to take your place as the supreme nagging wife,” Roland said rubbing his dark beard and walking over to drape an arm around Jenny. Jenny pushed it off went to punch his stomach hard. He pulled back and gasped at her. “Those are my jewels, not your punching bag!”

“Next time you touch me I won’t miss,” Jenny hissed. Roland rolled his eyes and instead crossed back towards Raymond.

“Roland, if you want to protect your balls don’t go near her,” Andrick said entering the room. He grinned and leaned up against Raymond’s bunk. “I suggest hiding behind a locked door in your own room, if memory serves me this isn’t your room.”

“Which begs the question why Roland is wandering around in his boxers here,” Raymond teased. “I don’t recall lifting the rule about hiding Roland’s hairy chest.”

“Yes, Roland, why you’re wandering around in your boxers?” Andrick hissed with a grin.

Roland lifted his head and said dramatically, “I’ll have you know I needed some fresh air.”

Jenny and Raymond snorted. Andrick chuckled, “Put your pants on.” He picked up the crumpled pants on the ground and threw them at Roland. Roland rolled his eyes with a grin.

“So, Raymond, I hear you’re suspended for three weeks,” Jenny said leaning forward in her chair, her expression a little more serious with curiosity in her eyes.

“You heard right. It’s more like five because it doesn’t start until after medical leave ends,” she replied.

“You’re going to be out for five weeks,” Roland groaned. “But you’re, like, the best!”

“Doesn’t change the fact that she jumped without a partner. I might add without hesitation,” Andrick said. “Ugly Duckling here just went for her mark, and Mister Duck wasn’t so happy about it.”

“Not like you tried to remind me,” Raymond snapped. Her dark eyes lashed out at her brother.

“Well you can keep me company on desk duty,” Jenny said. “I’m still suspended for another month.” Her voice dropped as she looked down at the floor, fidgeting with her hair. Raymond swallowed wishing she was back in the medical ward for a moment.

Roland buckled his belt, ran a hand through his hair. “Look, you weren’t at fault for that. You shouldn’t have gotten a three month suspension,” he said. “It was faulty wiring on the catcher and no one knew that the demon would choose such a public area for a kill.”

Andrick glanced down at his feet for a moment. “Dinner is in 10. Um, Ugly Duckling, commander wants to see you after you eat. He needs you to record a report for some analysis.”


Untitled “Demons” Part 2

Read Part One

Part Two

Raymond woke up in the infirmary. She groaned dramatically as she opened her eyes. No one was around her of course. Why did she bother vying for attention if no one was there? She glanced over at the machines beeping in sync with her heart. She sighed and pressed the orange button on the side of her bed.

“Hola sis,” Andrick said whisking the white curtain aside a moment later. She raised an eyebrow at her older brother. He was smirking at her. “Ugly Duckling lives another day to be ridiculed by her siblings!”

“Too bad you’re terrible at insults.” Raymond raised her bed as she spoke. Andrick wrinkled his nose as the smirk twisted into a scowl. “Now you gonna enlighten me on how bad the damage is?”

“Not sure I want to anymore,” he said.

“Oh come on, you know you want to tell me I’m dying–or worse living,” she taunted. Raymond smirked at him despite a shot of pain through her shoulder. The back wounds from the lizard demon were clearly still healing.

“Andrick, stop taunting your sister,” Vyl hissed brushing past his son as he walked into the room.

Andrick’s face fell serious and he stood up straighter. His eyes glued to the doctor’s white lab coat. Raymond swallowed hard and heard the sound of the heart monitor speed up as their father commanded the room. She could see her father’s dark eyes harden as he approached her.

“Raymond, you know better. No portal jumps without a partner. Rules are rules, you break them and you can lose your life,” he said calmly. Raymond felt herself shrink as her father spoke. “You’re suspended from field duty for three weeks after your release from medical leave.”

Raymond felt her jaw harden in anger. That just wasn’t fair. “Three weeks? But no one else is–” she started to argue but her father’s eyebrows raised and his eyes flashed angrily at her. She halted her argument, opening her mouth and carefully wording the next sentence, “I am sorry for my disobedience. I will serve the time for it.” She could feel her eyes welling up as she spoke.

“Good. Now your bandages will need changing. A nurse will be here in a moment. Your call to Andrick was timed well enough that the demon poison only did surface damage. You have some level 2 burns on your back and level 3 on your arm. If all goes well you will be released tomorrow afternoon with some ointments for your wounds and extra bandages. Medical leave will be two weeks with physical exercises,” he snapped. Vyl sighed heavily letting his medical and commander self relax for a moment. “I’m glad you’re safe Raymond. I am sorry that you’re on suspension, but you did well in catching the lizard demon. I’m proud, but it was stupid to go through the portal alone.”

Raymond felt her face burn, her eyes staring at the curtain behind him. She hated having a father that was her commander. She wanted him to leave. Vyl nodded at her and reached out, squeezing her hand for a moment before turning and leaving. She held the tears in while he nodded at Andrick who shrunk back under his father’s gaze. Their father exiting the room.

“You can cry now,” Andrick said gently as soon as their father was out of range. He turned as his sister let the sob escape. He walked over to the bedside, pulling up a chair and rubbing her hand gently. Raymond pulled away.

“Why is he such an asshole?”

“For what it’s worth, you did a great job bringing the demon down,” Andrick said, attempting to comfort his sister.

Raymond wiped the tears from her eyes and heaved a breath. She turned back to Andrick. “I’m fine stupid. So what did I miss?”

“Nothing important. Just Roland almost broke his arm and lost his top bunk in an arm wrestling match to Penn,” he said smirking. Raymond raised and eyebrow and grinned back at her brother as a giggle escaped her lips.

“Of course.”

Untitled “Demons” – Part 1

I haven’t written a short story in awhile, so here ya go! More will follow.

Raymond stepped forward toward the edge of the running river. The gray coat bobbed on the rock where the demon had disappeared into the portal. Her mouth twisted in annoyance. Just once she would like it if the demons didn’t get away.

She slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out a long piece of gold string. It shimmered in the evening light as she did. Raymond untangled it and ripped about foot off of it before stuffing the rest of it back in her pocket. She pulled from her other pocket a lighter and lit the string end. It burned a couple inches up the string, sparking as it did. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the mental image of the demon on her head.

Tall with a grey coat and large green clawed hands. It seemed almost human the way it ran, but its feet were too big and every time she seemed to run closer to it the creature would twist and snarl at her. The yellow eyes of the demon piercing her as she tried to catch up.

The string in her hand suddenly grew hot and she dropped it. As she did the air shimmered and she felt a cold wind suck at her. Raymond pulled her jacket zipper up and reached her hand into the portal. The sensation of falling gripped her as she tumbled forward into the portal. Her hands and head squishing and burning with pain as she was between worlds for a moment and then she was falling on dirt and rocks. Her shoulder hit something hard as she rolled to a stop on her back.

“Ooff. One of these days I will stick the landing,” Raymond muttered to herself as she looked up at the sky. There was a single sun and the sky was blue. “Earth. Damn it. They’re not suppose to be here,” she said as she recognized the solar system. She rolled over on to her feet and surveyed her landing spot.

She was in a desert from the looks of it. Sand and dirt everywhere and long horizon from end to end. There were cactus plants and yucca sprouting up. Raymond sighed. Why did she have to chase demons for a living? Now where did that–out of nowhere something clobbered her over the head.

Pain exploded through her head neck as she dropped into the dirt. She rolled over to her side, groggy as she felt a wave of nausea hit. A loud scream of the demon didn’t help the already painful headache. She dug her hand into her pocket searching for her taser gun as she did. Her eyes roaming for a glimpse of the creature. She propped herself up on her arm trying to see if it was behind her or not. She rubbed her head for a moment. It was wet.

Thud the creature landed behind her to her, reaching out and scratching at her arm. She screamed as she felt the claws dig into her arm and rake back along it. She kicked back hitting something as she did. It fell back startled for a second and she grasped her hand along the taser. Her arm burned painfully as she raised the gun and rolled on her back looking for the demon.

The demon had rolled back on his feet and was crouching forward, ready to launch at her. She could see his yellow eyes surveying her as she pointed the gun at him. He bared his teeth, pointed and yellow. He screamed again. Raymond found herself screaming with him as he did, dropping the gun to cover her ears. She knew it was a mistake the moment the taser left her fingertips. He leaped forward, claws reaching out to rip at her heart and neck. She pivoted her body forward into the dirt and felt the claws bury into her back, screaming as they did.

She kicked forward hitting his leg as hard as she could. The demon howled with anger and ripped his claws back, preparing to dig them back in. Raymond shoved her body forward into his legs. He rolled backward, startled but in no pain. She took the second to scramble forward and grab the taser. The demon wasted no second in launching his clawed hand at her face. Raymond clicked the gun trigger. It hit right as she felt her face burn.

The demon pulled back as the shock hit hard, shaking and screaming in response to it. She held it down for a moment longer waiting for it to pass out. It did after a few seconds and she released the trigger, dropping the gun and heaving in deep breaths.

After what seemed an eternity she rolled onto her good arm and sat upright to inspect her wounds. Her skin was already swollen and blotchy with a greenish tinge. “Uuuuuggghhh….why did you have to be poisonous?” she asked the passed out demon. “You had to be poisonous?” her back and arm were having unpleasant tingly burning sensations around them. Raymond closed her eyes for a second pushing the pain away.

Raymond slipped her hand into her coat pocket and grabbed the phone. She hit the red button and held it to her ear.

“What up ugly duckling?” her brother Andrick answered. His grin felt like it was coming through the phone.

“I’ve become more ugly. I got scratched up badly by a lizard demon just now. The poison is already taking–AARRGGhhh–” Raymond yelled as a particularly bad pain shot up her arm. “Shit that hurt! Just come get me and pick up the bounty, I’m going to pass out in a minute.”

“Shit,” Andrick said, “Yo, Ugly Duckling hurt!” Raymond heard someone yell back at him in the background and then another amount of commotion. She didn’t bother to keep listening as the pain hit and she felt the world begin to slip around her. The poison knocking her out as she did.

To Be Continued.


Stillness Part 4

Been awhile since I’ve added to this story. Check for the beginning parts in the Stillness category on my sidebar.


“I’m ordering a CT scan to see if there’s something else going on inside your head that might be causing the amnesia,” Doctor Wells told Clase. She was alone in the hospital room with him. Well, as alone as she could be with the strange ghost like thing following her still and the hands trying to strangle her. “And you’re sure you remember nothing about the incident or specifics about your husband?

“I’m trying, but honestly all I remember is standing out on the dock at the house onward. There’s moments where I know I should be feeling something about him, but I just don’t know what,” Clase said. Her eyes ducked down to study her hands. There were little cuts and bruises over her arms and some strange birthmarks she couldn’t remember ever having. “These are strange birthmarks,” she said. “I don’t remember having these.”

The doctor’s eyebrow raised. “That’s a good sign that you remember something.”

Clase looked up at him. “Oh…I guess I do.”

“Do you remember if you have siblings at all? Family vacations?” he asked.

“I think I have a sister…named Alice, but she lives in Florida,” she said. It was surprising to have a distinct memory that came effortlessly.

“That’s a good sign. You probably just have some post-trauma amnesia combined with retrograde. That means you don’t remember the cause of the head injury, and it seems you are missing a few crucial life moments,” he said jotting down some notes.

“Like getting married,” Clase said sadly. “I just don’t know how I can forget my husband.”

Dr. Wells looked at her with a sad face. “Well, we will figure this out. I’m going to go order the CT scan. If you want I can notify Damien and/or Dr. Gifford that they can come in. If you’re not ready, that’s okay, with amnesia patients it’s always a little jarring and hard to know.”

“Uhhh…Yeah, go ahead and let them know, but tell them I need a few minutes alone before they come in. Just want to process it…” Clase said. Dr. Wells nodded and left the room.

As soon as he did Clase looked up for the wispy white man. She stared at it, her eyes trying to process what it was. The streak of white was always changing like smoke or water, and his face would float with it.

“What are you?” she asked when they made eye contact. The man’s mouth opened to speak but she could hear nothing.

A thought popped into her head. I am Agirara. You are Clase.

Clase swallowed hard. “Hi…Agirara…” she muttered staring at the ever changing streak.

You don’t have to speak out loud. Simply think and I will respond.

Okay…Who are you? What are you?

I am a wizard spirit here to help defend you from the demon’s attacks. I warn you, do not close your eyes again for any longer than to blink. The demon is nearly at full power and will surely kill you if he gets the chance.

I’m sorry…Demon?

It’s hard to explain. Just know that you are not crazy. He has taken your memory, but he can’t take your soul unless you are near death. Don’t sleep, stay awake. I can contact the witch here in your world to help, but if you sleep before she can help…Well you will be gone.

KNOCK. Clase jumped as someone knocked on the door. It swung open gently and Dr. Gifford peaked in.

“Sorry…Did you want more time alone before we came in?” he asked seeing her face.

Clase glanced at the spirit of Agirara who simply stared at her. “It’s fine, come in.”

Because I can

Long day. I plan on updating my animation stuff tomorrow instead of today. I want to make sure I’m uploading content that’s actually a progression rather than just content for the sake of content. In the meantime, I have a quick video I made just because I could in After Effects. Little experiment in mattes. Sorry for lack of music, I’m tired and don’t feel like hunting down the right sound at the moment. Will possibly add to it this weekend.

The Vault 1.0

Day 38 of 365.

I spend a lot of time starting stories and never finishing them. So here’s one from the archives. This a previous attempt at a NaNo WriMo I never finished. It’s still a cool beginning which I would love to continue at some point. It’s fascinating reading a story I started a long time ago. All the ideas I came up with, but never got to perfect. Perhaps one of these next few days I’ll take this story and tweak it.

In the meantime here’s this for you to read. (Warning, no edits have been made so if something doesn’t make sense that’s probably why.)


Everyone in the world has a card. Your card is your life. It is how you function. When a baby is born into the world the typewriters print the card. The cards exist as long as you exist, and vice versa you exist as long as your card exists. The cards have your life printed on them, your weight, personality quirks, parents, history…etc. They change according to how you change your life. However, there is a darker side to the cards. If one should write on your card a word or personality change, you will change with it. That is to say if one would to write bully on your card you would become a bully. If one were to write slave you would be a slave to the one who wrote on your card. The worst thing though is to have your card typed over. That makes it permanent. You are forever enslaved to the one who typed over your card.

As one can imagine this causes a lot of problems in the world. There are wars over the cards which are damaging and horrifying. There are the rebels who exist to say that the cards should be in the hands of only the one they belong to, and there are those who are in politics. The ones who say that cards are to stay in the warehouses, where they were printed with the security provided by the government. There are the ones who have no choice in any of the matters because someone already wrote on their cards. Of course there are the criminals too, the ones that steal cards for themselves so that they can become rich and famous or worse rule others.

However, the biggest problem of all? Most of the world doesn’t know they have a card.

People believe in free will, but sometimes they never had a chance because people were writing over their card the entire time. Others made their decisions because they weren’t important enough, they were just there. There are the pawns—like a game of chess—that were moved to fight unknowingly. Then there are those who know and take advantage of it like the criminals, the rebels, and the politicians.

There are exactly 50 warehouses all over the United States in various parts of the country with the highest known security, and under the noses of most of the world. Each warehouse contains several rooms. The printing room, where they print the cards on the fresh paper which changes as people grow and form their personalities. The second room is the storage facility, which takes up most of the warehouse. They store most of the cards there. The Freezer room, an odd name—but one of the most important rooms. This is where they store the historical cards. They include the names of Elvis Presley, George Washington, Hitler…etc. The cards of the men and women that changed the world and created the most horrible events. These cards are kept at a perfect temperature with limited access to only the elite people. Most people in these cards are dead and can not be revived so the state of the cards are frail and old, some have bullet holes in them from where their person was shot. Others are a pile of ash or soggy from drownings. It’s difficult to understand who these people are sometimes.

The most heavily guarded room out of all of these is a chamber. It contains what is known as the Liar. The Liar is unknown to everyone who knows of the cards. Even the most powerful men can’t get access to the Liar. All that is known is that they play with history in there. It is said that there is a typewriter with red ink which corrects cards or alters lives. They kill people there or put them in the lines of fire. The Liars however never see the light of day so no one knows if it’s just a typewriter in there or a person, it’s left up to people’s minds.

It’s time for the story though, the most important story that the Liars are now in charge of. The one that could throw the world out of balance.

Ideas & Vague Stories

Today’s post comes in 2 parts. One for yesterday and one for today. My internet has been fixed so regular posting shall resume.


Day 32 of 365

For storytelling practice I didn’t do a ton. I made a list of types of stories I want to work on and the broad categories they can fit into. This is to help me for when I get stuck.

  • Visual Stories
    • Lettering, Photographs, 2D artistic narratives, illustrations
  • Video Narratives
    • Animations, scripts, vlogs, videos
  • Creative Writing
    • Novels, short stories, one offs
  • Analytical Narratives
    • essays, resources
  • Design Dumps
    • Inspiration, doodles, and thinking process for stories, experimental ideas
  • Animation updates/Misc
    • GIFs, idea generation

I also picked a schedule for my animation. Updates for animations will be on Wednesday and Friday. That keeps the rest of the week free for whatever type of content I want to create. One thing I don’t want to do is restrict myself with a schedule, with the exception of large milestones for my animation. You can view that below.

Once again big animation updates will be on Wednesday & Friday. Below is the general schedule I’m aiming to hold to.

Week 1: Planning – Ideas, moodboards, scripts, thumbnails, prep in general
Week 2: Animatics – Rough animatics, refining story
Week 3: Rough Animation
Week 4: Refining & coloring, post video by last day of the month

Day 33 of 365.

The Notebook

My notebook is torn around the edges with a little bit of dried blood as the scent. I forget frequently that it spent an afternoon drenched in death over a year ago. It’s got scratches and a hole deep inside of the pages where Katie once stabbed a knife through it. I threw the notebook at her head after that. It nearly killed her when she fell into the glass table. Of course she had it coming after trying to kill me. She’s still mad and every once in awhile I catch her in the shadows looking for another way to tear me down. I don’t care much for her kind though. My notebook is reasonably solid despite all the wear and tear of it’s hard life. I still write in it, around the hole. I still refused to let go of it despite Rainer and Scarro’s need to mock me. They’ve been mocking me for longer than I can remember, but I still hold on.

Today is one of those horrible days. The notebook is falling apart on the sofa and I’ve been stabbed in the shoulder again. I keep dripping blood on the pages as I write. My shoulder burns with every movement, but I refuse to stop writing. I’ve smeared blood over the words I’ve written.

“Vern, why do you keep that thing?” Rainer asks walking in and she filling a whisky glass. Her jaw is bloody and her red eyes flick over the scene. “and who’s she?” She gestures to the woman lying facedown on our white rug. There’s a pool of blood oozing out and staining it.

“She stabbed me,” I counter,”Why do you wear your necklace?”

Rainer raises a dark eyebrow. “I want a new rug for my birthday.”

“When was this one from again?”

“Sometime early? I don’t remember. Just get me a new rug. Whisky?”

“No, she poisoned it with some kind of drug for vampires,” I say. Rainer spits the sip she’d just taken back into the cup.

“Now you tell me!” she hisses angrily. “What type of drug?”

“Something that makes you weak, have a headache, feverish qualities, and blurry vision.”

“She drugged you and then attacked you, didn’t she?”

Scarro waltzes in from the backdoor. He stops short at the scene. “Who’s she?”

“A terrible vampire hunter,” Rainer responds walking over to the arm chair. “Oh…there goes my vision. Fuuuuuck. Verrrrn,” she whines leaning back as the drug begins to hit her.

I sigh and write another line into the notebook. The blood is still wet, drenching the pages.

“What’s with you?” Scarro asks Rainer as he pokes the dead hunter on the floor with his toe.

Rainer points at me with a shaking hand. “That one let me drink the drugged whisky.”

Scarro puts his hands on his hips. “You let her do what?” he asks, his mouth tightening at the corners as it always does when he’s angry. I glance up, and shut my notebook. I’m not getting any writing done at this point.

“She didn’t ask until she already had a sip. Do you remember when the rug is from?” I ask.

“I don’t remember…sometime between when killed Raunch’s wife and when World War 2 ended…actually that’s just when we acquired it from that museum. I’m not even sure past that point.”

“Well the rug is ruined.”

“We know that, just get me a new one,” Rainer says rubbing her head. “How long till this wears off?”

“Probably 20 minutes at most. You didn’t drink much,” I tell her.

The phone rings. I roll my eyes and look around for it. Scarro beats me to it and answers.

“Rossette estate, this is Scarro speaking.” Rainer closes her eyes and grumbles dramatically. She never could take any type of sickness well in her human moments and vampire state. “I’ll let him know. Thank you for calling.”

I raise my eyebrow. “For me? Who’s delightful enough to call me?”

Scarro hangs up the phone after a moment. He glances at Rainer and then back at me. “They found her Vern.”

My grip tightens around my notebook. Rainer snaps open her eyes to stare at Scarro. Her bloodshot eyes are wide.

The word is slow on my tongue, “Where?” This feeling of despair and confusion is foreign to me. I haven’t felt it for at least 30 years not since Katie stabbed the notebook.

Scarro fidgets with a stray string on his sweater. “You sure you want to invite her back in? It’s been nearly 100 years since you last talked her.” He refuses to make eye contact with me.

I glance at the notebook. The scratches and blood it’s endured and my grip on it it. “Where?” I ask again louder.

Scarro swallows hard. He hasn’t been supportive of this century long search since the beginning. Every time I get close he tries to convince me to stop. After a long pause he speaks. “New York.”

I rise. “Where in New York?”

Scarro fidgets.

To Be Continued

Nonsensical Babble

Day 25 of 365.

Today is one of those days where animating is not going to happen. I can always tell because I open a program and just stare. Followed by flipping through videos to find inspiration to get me going again. Instead have some nonsense. Not sure how this makes me a better storyteller, but it feels right for making into something. It’s definitely going to make an experimental storyline. Something you’ll have to fill the blanks in with.


Instead I’ll tell you stories through words about dreams and dreams about words.






explain t to me.

visual splutter of guru powder.

Welcome to I made nonsense from my head into lettering. I really don’t know what “Visual splutter of guru powder” is but it’s a good chance that it’s colorful. I guess the question is what’s guru powder? and how does it splutter visually? In packets of time? Or is it just pressed into a flat shape of nonsensical planes you can’t possibly fathom because our brains are so tightly packed with unknowing?

Unclench your hands and realize where the color slipped through them.

Did you follow it with your eyes? Or did it float into your dreams so you’ll never find it again. Can you even follow it? The tingling sting of the comet sinks into your singsong of a dream.

It slipped away.