Chris Poe

An Early Everesshia Story, “Lance’s Lost”

In the flush greens of Everesshia, when the Scarlet creek controlled the moisture of the deep woods and carving forests, flourished exotic species of living and dead. . .

When the beginning of time took on the evolution process of human to the superiors of their species. . . .

When man began seeing the true power of their nature. . . .

When the flames curled around the crystal drops of the sky. . . .

After the rain had ended it’s blessing of tears, the moon hid off and behind the streaks of dying clouds, filling this night in the consumption of grey darkness. Drops that hung from the leaves and needles of the high and still-life trees, reflected the moon’s glare, while falling to the lifeless earth to absorb and begin the process again. Together, they gave the precious gift of light and movement that grew within time. He, a cold statue tattered with the passing shower, sat on a cliff high above a treacherous curve of black swiftness. Allowing time to pass and the rain to soak him, his posture crooked, his hands holding a tight fist with emerging veins, h. His feet dangled helplessly above the current. Ripped and worn pants dripped to the surface of the water, illuminating endlessly traveling ripples that scurried against the sandy bank across. An old shirt of dark brown slacked around his toned body, morphing around his curves due to the heavy weight of the rain.

His dark green olive eyes watered in the sight of the moon’s distorted reflection, which held the northern lights against the rocky wall he sat upon. He shifted his silent position, placing the palms of his hands flat against the stone. Gravity pulled at the tiny water droplets, and to the end of his black hair they fled. His fingers curled and balled again into two separate fists, the muscles through his upper arms tightened. His teeth clenched in silence, . Wishing that rain would have never have ended. . . .

Flashback

Chains of blue and yellow wildflower pressed thickly across the flat fields. Only one tree stood tall and proud it did. It’s muscular branches held tightly to it’s spiky leaves of royal stature and it’s roots curled deeply into the soil, like a pit of venomous snakes. A logged cabin grew.

Lance cut through the fields like a stingray flies through the ocean, . Racing to the home he had worked so desperately to complete. Waiting for his arrival were the only two women in his life. His daughter, at such a young age, swung at a rope in the clam shade of the oak, giggling at the moments he would go highest. In a low, hopping stance, Lance quietly approached his daughter from behind, easing through the dry shadows with a humorously sly grin upon his face. His wife, watching from the porch steps, sitting comfortably as the sunlight lightens up her crystal eyes, like the ground snow around a winter’s fire.

Present

His lips quivered as a smile tried so desperately to show.

This was the last time he saw the light. His beautiful girl with black wavy hair of his, and the last time he saw that innocent look, she lied when she attempted the wrong. His wife of a resonant pageantry, the last look he saw when he let their child escape with dessert before dinner. That night to come. . . So unexpected by the millions. Like how sand grains upon a beach, constantly washed away and taken by the tides, random waves mixed by the good and bad of fate and destiny.

The crackling and popping of burning wood filled his ears in a rush as he awoke in the heat of the night. Forever to haunt his memories was the scream of a child, his child. His wife was reduced to coals at his side, the world around him burned brightly. The high pitched pain of his child scorched his ears again, . . . . Twisting and screaming in howling burns as he fell through the floor of his room. . . The only scar from the battle, ‘til this day, . . .is when he fell to the pits of hell as he recognized them.

The screeching of an ill-used woman killed the dark thoughts of his past, and chills were sent across the forest’s spine in the shrill out burst of birds flying. It came not far but intensely close, causing the life of the forest to crawl in anticipation.

Starring with wide, observatory eyes, he ate away at the details of the forest, preparing his next action if had to be taken. He knew he would have to take it. Lance rose to his feet and backed away into the darkness of the trees, peering from the shadows to the embankment across from where he awaited the arrival of his prey.

A girl, in her late, teenage years, tumbled to the ground as she was thrown from the bushes, eroding the sand like a meteorite strikes the earth. Her hands were tied with black rope and with little light, dark bruises began to glow from her frail skin.

A man stepped from the bushes, dusting his heavy and meaty hands. “Scream all you want. . . .” Dragged his hollow voice.

Lance quickly moved to the edge of the cliff. , During the time, the man kicked her over and eyed the every detail of her body. “You!” He pointed with a commanding voice. “Unhand her and leave.” Don’t get out of control Lance, was all he could think.

The man, not surprised, knew exactly where to look as he placed his hands on his sides. “I see our village secret has spoken. I am the first?”

“I only speak to you in the correction of the misdeeds you have performed wrong! This girl is no older than eighteen, ; she could pass as your daughter!” He specified.

A smile slowly pressed into his face that revealed the yellow stench of his teeth. “And what of you to do? There is nothing you can do.” He smiled again, and raised to his eyebrows, his eyes peering beneath the black bushes. “But watch.”

Lance inclined his head, stem arising from his clothing and hair. His expression was possessed diabolical. His eyes began to transform into the shade of his curse and would he stop. . . ?

The man snuffed, “That’s what I thought.”

Lance stepped off the cliff and fell head-strong into the creek.

Watching him fall, the man stepped back as his eyes followed him to the very spot he struck. “There is no way you could out-swim that.” He whispered to himself, he worried by himself, and yet he looked back down to the girl. He smirked as she moaned in the pain he had caused her.

The rapist looked back to Lance’s doings. The surface of the water was never broke, never heard yet Lance’s body stood parallel to his. The man’s mouth slightly dropped as his onion-wrenched breath was taken in with it.

“I don’t think you want to go that route.” Lance spoke.

The man, so sure of himself, struck Lance with his fist at bone crackling force, sending him to the close, shallow water behind. Stumbling in the force of the thick current (though it is shallow), the man staggered to Lance’s shaken body and lifted him by his shirt, starring closely into his eyes as the moon’s light sparked a beam like ray‘s from the heavens or is the moon more related to hell? He bared his teeth, feeling the heat course through his veins. His voice took a frail turn as Lance’s pupils disappeared in a thick, syrupy shade of maroon red. “What-what are you?”

Lance lifted his head so that he could see the full flame of his power. “I don’t know. . . You tell me.”

The man quickly dropped Lance as he squealed like the woman he had abused. The water boiled around his feet and steamed with an aquatic passion. Heat waves danced from Lance’s body and diffracted the images that laid around him. Darkness consumed the lining of his eyes as his hair glittered, the same color of his eyes.

Lance’s hand sharply grabbed the man’s face, his nails dug deep in to his skull, and his skin began to dry under the intense temperatures. His hair curled from the heat. Lance’s grip tightened as the man screamed again. He grabbed Lance’s arms to attempt to pull them away. It was no good. He screamed again as the palms of his hands were burned against Lance’s skin. With evil in his eyes, the man’s arms fell to his sides. Lance removed his hand to see the damage he had caused.

His eye sockets were dry and open to the cooked tissues inside his skull, lips gnarled and crispy ands black. The corpse had not a single drop of moisture in his body. Lance breathed deeply as he stepped to the side and watched him fall face first with a sizzle of steam.

After Lance’s temper quickly ceased, “The girl.” He jerked his head as he realized. She laid in the same place and had not moved. The girl was clearly unconscious.

That next morning,

“Hey. . .” He heard a voice as someone shook him. “Hey. . .” It came louder and louder, he felt a poke at his shoulder. “Hey. . .” He jumped from his sleep, frightening the girl as she fell back in the sand. She starred widely at him as he too starred back. They both locked a chain that would be memorize for many years to come. The day they met and discovered the world has it’s diabolic ways of bringing together those who need each other most. The day they would fall in love and later would be the day they would die as Everesshia continues reincarnation and in many forms.