Despite the Darkness #4 - The Dreamer has awakened...

The story continues and we begin to get a glimpse of something...

He found himself alone in the bathroom again, the image of a guilty man staring back at him. Even when he dropped his own gaze, the accusatory eyes bore down on him and the scream started to build in intensity. A wolf howled off in the distance, matching pitch with the terrible scream.

Then he felt something tough his hand. The touch was soft but it sent a jolt through his body. Jolted, he searched the whole room with his eyes, seeing no one, he then stepped out of the bathroom but both Jan and Isaiah were lying in their beds. He was suddenly very uneasy and was about to go back into the bathroom when Isaiah called to him, “Dad?”

“Yeah Izai?”

“Did you hear the wolf?”

“I did, you scared?”

“A little.”

“It’ll be o.k., we’re inside and the sooner we get to sleep the sooner it’ll be morning. You’re safe.”

“You are dad, you’re safe.” The boy said it with enough certainty that it caught his breath.

“Uh… thanks Izai.” He searched for something else to say, but instead settled on giving his son a kiss on the head and patting his shoulder. “Sleep.”

He slid under the covers and brushed his wife’s leg. She moved it away.

“Night,” he said lamely and waited for a response. None came.

He turned the light out and they were now separated by darkness too.

At first there was a doorway. It was roughhewn timber set into mud daubed walls. A sheep waited patiently at his side. He stooped to its level, gave it a gentle pet, and looked at it with admiration.

The blood applied poorly to course surface. The brush had to be applied several times to fully cover. The dark red dripped from the lintel and pooled on the ground.

The walls were only a few foot high in this section, but just up ahead they were raised much higher. He ran his fingers across freshly cut stone, expertly crafted to offer no handhold or seam. The sun cast golden rays across the white stone.

Seven times he walked around it, as darkness fell, his hand on the wall, leaving only at the gates.

The boat rocked in the gentle waves of the sea. The coastline was wilderness except for a small beach where a campfire burned. Before the boat could ground against the sand he fell into the water and stumbled towards land. Fish cooked over the hungry flames.

A white lamb rested beside the fire; it locked eyes with him.

I don't remember of I mentioned that this story is a horror story with a strong supernatural bent to it, but its a horror story with a strong supernatural bent to it. Dreams are a pretty powerful way for the supernatural to connect to the natural, so they factor quite a bit in this story. I was striving to write a dream sequence that can easily be forgettable but have that lingering foreboding a good prophetic dream seems to have. I tried to emulate Biblical dreams like those Joseph and Daniel interpreted; seemingly innocuous with simple iconography but troubling to the dreamer because of its deeper meaning. I wonder who has similar dreams in this story? Hmmm.... Let me know what you think of my dream and of course please share.

I'm in a coffee house and I just spilled my words... Despite the Darkness #3

...I should probably get a rag. The story continues, unless you just started reading - in which case the story started elsewhere and you need to catch up.

They traveled back down the pass, more slowly now that the road was thoroughly covered with snow. The sign for Canyon Creek was miraculously not hidden by snow as he feared it would be, so they were able to turn up the narrow road leading off into the hillside. 

The single lane track that meandered its way alongside Canyon Creek the creek to Canyon Creek the town was covered by a layer of snow that looked to have been freshly plowed yet tree boughs hung low and dropped their snowy payloads as the van brushed against them. Jan’s teeth were on edge anytime they scrapped past another branch that’s wooden finger scratched the length of their silver van.

“You’re scratching the car,” she offered after a multi-fingered attack had no doubt peeled all the paint from the left side.

He was about to retort when the lights of Canyon Creek (the town) came into view. It was a mixture of single story buildings of either cinderblocks or logs lining the left-hand side; while the right-hand side was two or three chalet style homes built around an open field with baseball backstop. The lights were on in most of the buildings, but they shone the brightest in what the signed heralded as The Dambuster. He parked and the three got out, stretching sore legs. He led them inside and they were instantly greeted with a loud “CLOSE THE DOOR!” from the entirety of the room’s occupants who were intently transfixed on the screen against the far wall. Dave Kreig was taking a snap from the center in what looked like the first quarter of the game. They were already trailing.

“Lola! Guest,” barked a voice from the back, only a white hat, dark eyes, and moustache visible through the window to the kitchen. Lola, a skinny young girl in her twenties got up from the table where the occupants were clearly saddened to lose her company.

“Welcome to The Dambuster, sit wherever you like.”

“Where’s the restroom,” Jan asked and was directed to a dark hallway past the kitchen.

“I’m guessing you tried going over the pass.”

“You’d guess right.” He smiled and took the offered menu. “The officer at the roadblock said we might be able to find a place to stay the night here.”

“I’ll have Stu come over and give you the rates. You might not want to stay after hearing how much it’ll cost you.” She laughed and it filled that little corner of the room with some much needed light.

“I’m sure.” He looked at the game and cocked his brow. “Didn't they already play this game?”

“Oh sure, but we don’t get reception up here so Pete has to record it and then drive it up. You’re not going to spoil the score are you,” she said with a mischievous smile and twinkle in her eye.

“No ma’am.” He raised his hands in false surrender.

“You let me know when you’re ready to order, o.k.?”

The girl turned and walked slowly back to the gathered throng. He watched her go, appreciating her “uniform” and the way it accentuated her figure, and then turned back; his son’s eyes were watching him closely. He cleared his throat and looked down at his menu.

Jan returned and the three ordered their dinner, which they then ate in silence. Lola’s reception was much more tepid now so she didn’t come by often. Instead the man named Stu came over during the second quarter and offered them one of the vacation Hauser he owned and operated. He took them across the street to the second haus from the main street, mentioning it would be quieter for them to be away from The Dambuster – Jan agreed as she eyed the faux Bavarian façade in the dim moonlight. The three settled in, prepared their sleeping areas, and went through their nightly routines.

I'd like to dedicate the Seahawks reference to my mother. whose long suffering was finally rewarded last year. As always I'd love feedback and if you would share with your friends - they might like a story about some people going to a bar.

Tis the season of giving, I brought you some words... Despite the Darkness #2

I'm feeling generous I guess. Here is the next bit of the story I'm working on. Please comment and share. I dedicate this section to the WB7EPL, WB7DSA, WB7BAC, and family vacations; without which I would probably not feel such childish wonder along Highway 20 as I do every time I pass over it.

Despite the Darkness

The drive was done in the relative silence of a car traveling at high speeds on the highway with Oldies playing over the stereo and the people inside not talking to each other. The snow was growing thicker on the ground as they moved further into the hills. The landscape changed suddenly when they turned a corner; what were once gently sloped hills turned into a steep sloped ravine blanketed in deep white. The road was clear of traffic in both directions, so they were the only ones traveling up into the mountains in the slush.

“We should have taken Highway 2.”

“This is a straight shot to Mom’s.”

“It’s going to be closed.”

“There aren’t any signs and I checked the DOT hotline before we left.”

“Uh huh.”

He sulked in the driver’s seat while Jan sulked in the passenger’s. The Beach Boy’s Good Vibrations came to a climax and the DJ cut to the local news.

“A string of disappearances in the North Cascades have authorities baffled; Skagit Sherriff’s Deputy Malcom Mead and a Forestry Ranger Amanda Muir didn’t come home two nights ago from their patrols along Highway 20, leaving no clues as to their whereabouts. Listeners are encouraged to call the Skagit County Sherriff’s Office with any information on their disappearance. Meanwhile, the Seattle Police Dep…”

He turned the radio off with a stab of his finger, ignoring the look from his wife. Snowflakes began to fall in earnest; big, wet ones that started to cover the whole road and the windshield.

“We’ll make it,” he said as much to himself as to his wife. The wipers were turned from intermediate to full shortly after. The sun was now set and visibility was cut down by the heavy snowfall.

They had passed the Ross Lake Dam and were almost to Washington Pass when even Isaiah way in the back could see the amber lights flashing ahead. He gripped the steering wheel, girding himself for the inevitable “I told you so.”

“Huh.” There it was.

He slowed down as the scene became clearer - a huge excavator was desperately fighting a shifting, sliding section of hillside that had come down onto the road. Boulders and huge evergreen trees were mixed with mud and snow to cover the whole road. A police car’s lights, parked back from the accident, came on as further reminder that the van should stop.

The Sherriff’s Deputy reluctantly got out of his warm vehicle to personally stop the van’s forward progress.

“Did you miss the road closed sign?”

“Didn’t see one and I checked before we left.”

The deputy sighed. “They said they had it up and would announce it on the radio…“ He shook his head like a man shakes out cobwebs, “Not your problem. This slide’s going to close the pass at least until morning; you folks will need to turn around.”

“We need to eat Steve.” It was less a comment and more a command.

“You passed a little town a few miles back, it’s a company town, but they have a bar and some cabins you can rent if you’d rather stay the night.”

“Canyon Creek?”

“Yeah, they don’t get many visitors.” The deputy smiled crookedly.

“Thank you, we’ll head there.”

“Drive safe.”

The window went back up and the van turned around.

“We should go home and go Highway 2 in the morning.”

“You wanted to eat.”

“Not at some bar!”

“Where are we supposed to go Jan? You’re the one who’s hungry.”

“Dad, I think we should go to Canyon Creek.” Isaiah’s small voice from the back stopped his mother’s retort.

“Honey, we can make it down to a nicer place in just a little bit, o.k.?” She projected back to her son in that pleasant compromising voice, that really meant no compromise.

“No… we won’t.” Isaiah’s voice drifted off and he looked out into the dark woods that were passing by.

“I need to at least stretch my legs and go to the bathroom.”

“Fine.”

Questions? Comments? Bribes?

A sprig of writing to keep you warm... Despite the Darkness #1

In keeping with my extremely flaky posting schedule I'm sharing the beginning of the story I'm working on. Despite the Darkness is my attempt at a Horror/Thriller which I've never done before. Its another story I have bits and pieces of in my head and thankfully my wife is kicking me out of the house once a week to help spur on my writing. I probably won't serialize it, but if you like it let me know and I might post more... maybe. 

Despite the Darkness

   The razor blade hovered just over skin, the blood just beginning to well up, the arm frozen for a moment, eyes locked on the dark red slowly running down his cheek.

  “We’re ready to go.”

  He didn’t move and the blood dripped onto his undershirt. She sighed and groaned in equal measure.

  “You’ll have to change. We’re going to be late.”

  “I’ll be just a minute.”

  She left, mumbling about taking care of things the night before. He staunched the bleeding with a piece of toilet paper and closed his eyes to avoid looking at the blood-shot eyes that looked back too closely. In his mind he saw a flash and heard the scream. He gripped the counter as it grew in intensity, his breathing becoming labored.

  “Dad?”

  Light crept in from the edges and breath slowly came more normally.

  “Yes, Isaiah,” he asked through gritted teeth.

  “I love you.”

  Eyes opened and those accusing eyes looked back despite the brightness of the vanity lights.

  “I’ll see you in the car.”

  “See you in the car, son.”

  He finished shaving, cutting himself twice more, but somehow persevering to the end. He’d missed several spots, his skin was raw, and the clean shave only accentuated the other disheveled aspects of his appearance. He rolled on his deodorant, brushed his teeth, and then went into the bedroom. His bag sat empty on the bed, a pile of clothes beside it. He tossed in underwear, tee-shirts, jeans, socks, a fleece, jacket, and his a dog eared book he’d been nursing for a good three months. Stopping just before he zipped up the bag his hand shook. The case on the top shelf in the closet beckoned to him… like it had the whole night and the long nights before.

  Jan hated that it was in the house and now its contents were in his hand before he realized he’d moved to pull it down and open it. The black metal was cool and the weight was calming in his hand. It wasn’t loaded but a handful of practiced movements could fix that. So they did.

  I love you. His hands passed the firearm from hand-to-hand, each feeling the heft and smoothness of the piece. It finally rested in his strong hand, his right hand… his shooting hand. I love you. The gun began to feel more and more foreign in his hand, its familiarity slipping like a veil. Treating it now less like an old friend and more like a dead rat, the gun went back into the case, and the lock was refastened. He zipped up the bag, changed his shirt, and then left the house. The case sat on the bed. I love you.

Casting I 01001100 01101111 01110110 01100101 You

When I was writing "I 01001100..." it played out in my head like a movie... oh, Hello! Yes, I am actually writing. Took a little time to regroup and look back on the whole serial story experience; I have also been reading a lot. Anyway, as I was saying... played out in my head like a movie. So I thought it would be fun to take a page from my good friend Ryan "Shmee" Partlow and his blog Shmee.me (which I contribute to from time to time) and cast my story.

Albro Swift
When I was writing this story I was watching a lot of Chuck with Zachary Levi, so there is a lot of the Buy-More spy and few Chuck references sprinkled throughout the story. He's also a great mix of comedic and dramatic, with a love for the geeky that makes him an inspiration to us all. So he's a logical choice for my lonely Dr. Light*.

At the same time, Zachary doesn't fit the image of what Albro looks like in my head, so to match that with a great actor I have to present David Blue.

I enjoyed David's performance on Stargate Universe, as the awkward, boy-genius Eli who became the heart of the show. He had a wide-eyed wonder and innocence that I think Albro has as well, so he's my choice to play Albro Swift.


Marcus DeMarcus Jefferson
Its a terrible name I know. My first choice for Jefferson was of course Orlando Jones (Make 7-Up yours!) but he doesn't fit into the young and the restless age group I have going on, so the next best option is the man who took over the 7-Up job from him...

Godfrey is a funny man and I think exudes that joy and zest for life that Jefferson has. He's older than the majority of the cast I'm putting together, so to throw out a younger name...

Donald Glover is also funny and full of life. Either would be a great fit for the role.

Gwen
Gwen was roughly inspired by Luanne, who worked at Lloyd's Electronics in Lynden for forever, but differed from her physically. The picture I always had in my head was from the webcomic The Trenches and the lovely Cora.

She's probably not available, so I'd need a miracle... (uggh)

Miracle Lauri was a delight to watch on Joss Whedon's Dollhouse; she's charming, sweet, and a beautiful woman despite not fitting the acceptable norm. She was exactly who I had in mind as I wrote Gwen and would be hard pressed to pick someone else. She's also very scary if you mention tulips around her.

Calvin Reuben Hanson
When I played Calvin Reuben Hanson, the villain of Time Cop Cruisers 2002 and 2003 at FirCreek Day Camp, I played him like Avery Brooks from Star Trek: Deep Space 9 - a little crazy and a lot over the top. So whomever took on this role had formidable shoes to fill (not really). Finding the right amount of smarm, airheadedness, and menace is a tall order. So here are three guys I thought could pull it off.

Jermaine Clement has already played a similar role in Gentleman Bronco, so he can do it, but pulling off the contemporary of either Zachary Levi or Baby Face Blue probably isn't going to happen, but it'd be great.

Michael Cera would more than get this role; I think he'd have fun with the role, chewing up the screen like... like... an Arrested Development reference. He'd also be young enough.

Finally is the oddest of these ducks, Mr. Aziz Ansari from Parks and Rec. He's funny, he's young, and he's just that little bit off that Calvin Reuben Hanson (at least in my mind) embodies. Any of these three would be able to pull off an amazing... well, nearly amazing. Those 1st through 5th grades gave me rave reviews. So nearly amazing job at the Big Bad Guy.

Of course these are just some of the people that have come to mind as I have written my story, but who have you thought of as you read it? Is my Albro way off? Jefferson not zany enough? Let me know, I would love to compare.


*A Mega Man reference. Dr. Light is the creator of Mega Man and other robots

I 01001100 01101111 01110110 01100101 You #15 (THE END)

Albro found himself surrounded by a swell of well-wishers and sudden admirers. They all seemed obvious to the fact that his eyes darted for an exit and his body tensed with each pat on the back. Those that tried to engage him in conversation received one word responses and panic looks. Sweat began to bead on his forehead.

Men in dark suits pushed their way through the crowd and slowly cordoned Albro off from the masses; creating a small pocket of breathing room. Calvin Rueben Hanson stepped into the circle.

His eyes remained downcast and his shoulder’s slumped, but then his bearing changed and he stood up straight again.

“Please escort everyone out, Mr. Blithe, but see that they pass the souvenir and concession stands before they go.” The men in black maneuvered the crowd towards the exit.

“They will return… and in greater number,” Hanson said, watching them file out like cattle.

“Thank you Obi One, you’re my only hope.”

“What?”

“Star Wars… it’s from… never mind.” The two were silent, neither looking at the other.

“I’m sorry Albro, I didn’t know. I assumed and I was wrong.”

Albro was taken aback, unsure of what to say.

“I thought…” he struggled uncharacteristically for the right words, “…in my family you fight for everything. When you didn’t fight me it was the greatest slight you could deal me; it told me I was beneath you and not worth your time. I failed to even consider that you might have other reasons.

“You called me your friend, but I am not worthy of that title.”

“You are so melodramatic.” Albro laughed to himself and smiled a little, but then looked back at Calvin with friendly intent. “You have been and always will be… my friend.” Albro even held up his hand with his fingers split.

“Is that from something?”

Albro just shook his head.

*                                  *                                  *

Jefferson put the last pieces of the Leonardo, Donatello, and Michelangelo on the cart, with T1N carrying Ito in his arms. Albro stopped in front of T1N and looked from him to Ito, to Jefferson, to Gronk who was rocking side to side excitedly.

Gronk. Gronk. Gronk. Fpstttssss! Gronk froze and went silent; he’d blown a cap again.

“Thank you, all of you,” Albro said softly. T1N nodded his head, Ito held his one good hand to his head in salute, and Jefferson grinned from ear to ear. “Let’s go home.”

“Actually, it looks like there’s one more fan waiting to get your autograph.” Jefferson motioned towards the side door. Gwen stood there in her green dress. Her eyes were bright and her smile beamed. Albro walked over to her.

“Good job Tin Man.” Gwen put an arm on Albro’s shoulder.

Butterfly suddenly hatched inside Albro’s stomach and his sweat glands went into overdrive. His mouth became as parched as Death Valley and his knees went weak.

“Something wrong?”

Albro looked into Gwen’s eyes; eyes he’d once only viewed through a camera, eyes he had thought about in wishful moments throughout the day, and now were looking at him and it felt like he was seeing them for the first time.

“You have beautiful eyes,” he blurted and then instantly went red. Gwen’s smile turned impish and she laughed.

“I’m glad you noticed.”

Albro seemed to gain some courage from that, so he looked at her again and then held out his hand. “I don’t think we were ever officially introduced. I’m Albro. Albro Swift.”

Gwen took his hand. “Gwen.”

Albro loosened his grip, but Gwen held his hand gently; she felt safe for the first time in a long time and her eyes shared her contentment with a sparkle that had dazzled the recluse. She giggled and then turned so they were now holding hands, “How about dinner?”

He followed without resistance, but then looked back for the motorcycle helmet and gloves he always wore outside; they were sitting on the cart Jefferson was pushing. He lingered on them for a moment and then felt a gentle squeeze. Without looking back he stepped out into the brightly lit day, the two of them silhouetted in the open door.

The end.

I hope all of you who have been following this story have enjoyed it. This end has been hard for me to write, one of the big problems was whether they should kiss at the end. My wife helped me a lot with this and helped steer me to an ending I think is more genuine to the characters. As always your feedback is most welcome and if you liked it, please share. I will probably do another serial in a little while, so I'll see you then.

I 01001100 01101111 01110110 01100101 You #14

Several crew members removed Ito from the field and swept the platform clear while cheerleaders danced to Jock Jams. Unlike Albro and Jefferson, the mood of the crowd was boisterous; enjoying the AAA entertainment Calvin Reuben Hanson had brought to town. Across the field, behind Maximillian, Hanson smiled like a jackal.

“Why so serious, Albro?” Calvin’s voice was amplified, filling the whole place as the music was faded to silence in a very choreographed maneuver. “Are you ready now to admit I am the best?”

“The best? No.” Albro was surprised at the tone in his own voice and he looked up at Hanson with a mixture of shock and determination.

“The field says otherwise, I think. What does the crowd say?” The small roar gave Calvin his answer and he seemed pleased at the results. “And while I’ve just been informed we cannot use the term Robotech Masters, do to some legal difficulties I’m sure we’ll clear up…”  The graphics splashing Robotech Masters all over the platforms suddenly changed to Robo Masters and crew members pulled the banners from the walls. “…I’ve proven what I would have proved all those years ago. You wronged me, Albro, and now I will have my revenge!”

Hanson brought his hand down and on cue the lights, which had been up were dimmed again, and the umpire signaled for play to resume.

“Maxamillian. Kill.” The brute, turned its head to eye its master and then started slowly towards Raphael who kneeled in front of his goal.

“I can’t watch,” Jefferson said before covering his eyes. Albro wished to do the same, but a hand came to rest on his shoulder. T1N looked at Albro and then motioned towards the field.

“I can’t…” T1N leaned in and put his other hand on Albro’s shoulder. “O.K.”

Albro pulled a blue flag from his back pocket and waved it, desperate to get the umpire’s attention.

“What this Guy? Is Swift attempting to surrender?”

“No, Randy, that is the Point-of-Order flag. He must have something he wants to bring to the umpire’s attention. Looks like we’ll find out.”

The umpire stopped play and Maximillian halted his slow march.

“I wish to make a substitution.” Jefferson, Hanson, and the rest of the crowd all whipped their heads around to look at Albro in surprise.

“Who are you going to substitute, Albro? You’re butler?” Hanson pointed at T1N and laughed.

“Is this allowed,” Randy asked from the announcer’s booth.

“It’s an obscure rule, but as long as whatever he fields does not go over the team’s weight limit he can substitute. The only problem is, you don’t get to subtract the weight of the unit you are substituting, so it’s very rare teams have enough cap to actually do it.”

“Does he have the room?”

“I just did the calculations and he does.”

“And it looks like the umpire came to the same conclusion, he’s letting Swift substitute.”

Albro first whispered to T1N, who then went down to relieve Raphael, and then he whispered to Jefferson, who’s smile widened with each moment he listened.

“Gronk! With me,” he yelled and then jumped off the platform.

“I thought tearing the limbs off of that little toy of yours was going to be highlight, but now you give me the gift of your most prized robot…”

“Automaton.”

“Wha?”

“Robot is Czech for… you known, it didn’t sink in in college; it’s not going to sink in here.” Albro fixed Calvin with an unfriendly gaze. “Do you want to know why I didn’t fight you all those years ago, Cal?”

“I know Albro. You were afraid to fight me.”

“I’ve never been afraid of you, Cal; not even now.”

“Then why did you rat me out to the college police and get me kicked out?”

“I didn’t. You thought I was oblivious to what you were doing, but I knew and I said nothing. We were almost graduated, I wasn’t going to do that to you… you were my friend.”

“Then why didn’t you fight me?”

The steel in Albro’s eyes faded and he seemed poised to run from the platform, but then he spoke again, “I had every intention to fight you that night. I was on my way, in fact. That’s when I was mugged.”

The whole expansive stadium fell silent. Randy looked ready to speak, but Guy silenced him with hand over his mouth and a shush.

“He came up behind me and held a knife to my back. He took everything, threw me to the curb, and then proceeded to kick me until I passed out. I woke up two days later. I couldn’t go outside after that. I couldn’t…” Albro looked at T1N and seemed to take courage from the white automaton standing below.

“All this time I’ve been running away, afraid of everything… afraid to go outside… too afraid to get to know anyone… to be known. But I’m not alone anymore. I’m not fighting you Cal, I’m fighting myself… and you’re in my way!

“I built T1N so that would never happen to me again. You’re right, he’s very important to me, but he’s not my butler, Cal… he’s my bodyguard.” Albro spoke to T1N directly, “There are three flowers in a vase. The third flower is green.”

T1N, who’s visor now glowed red, suddenly moved from a very relaxed position, to performing a series of katas. Then he mimicked stretching muscles he didn’t have.

“Jefferson.”

“DJ Gronk, some beating music if you please.”

Gronk. The little robot had tapped into the snake leading out of the soundboard, effectively taking control.

The lights dimmed so only T1N and Maxamillian could be seen, all else was darkness. Music began to play, growing louder as it built up force…

You've got the touch

You've got the power, yeah

T1N strode confidently, taking a ball from the hopper.

After, all is said and done

You never walk, you never run

You're a winner, you got the moves

Maximillian had returned to guard his goal and he eyed T1N with malice, using one hand to motion T1N closer.

You know the streets, break the rules

Take the heat, you're nobody's fool

You're at your best when the going gets rough

You've been put to the test but it's never enough

T1N crossed the halfway mark.

You got the touch

You got the power

T1N put on a burst of speed, directly at Maxamillian who swung two arms to pulverize the small, white automaton daring to assault him. However, T1N dodged these attacks easily and then struck out at the great joints that gave the arms their movement. Two burst in explosions of green oil and two others would never move again. Maximillian recoiled away and his blood, red eye looked at his useless arms in shock.

You never bend, you never break

You seem to know just what it takes

You're a fighter, it's in the blood

It's in the will, it's in the mighty hands of steel

When you're standin' your ground

Maximillian lets out a fierce roar and swung his remaining two arms at T1N. Bobbing and weaving around the attack like water, T1N again dodged Maxmillian’s attack. Three quick strikes rendered those arms useless as well.

“He’s over 9000,” Calvin Rueben Hanson exclaimed in horror.

You got the touch

Now defenseless, Maxamillian did his best to avoid T1N’s attacks, but each blow landed all over his metal body, crushing and mangling the red monster’s form. Then the attacks stopped and T1N move to stand directly in front of the once great Maximillian, who now looked very much like a defeated fighter, swaying from side to side.

You got the power

T1N gave him one last look and then with the hand that held the ball he punched the great iron beast square in the chest; tearing armor, gears, wiring, and much else. T1N’s hand traveled through Maximillian and out the other side.

You got the touch

The life faded from Maximillian just as T1N tossed the ball into the goal.

You got the power, yeah!

“Eight points! Eight points! I can’t believe it! I can’t believe it!”

“That. Was. Amazing. I have never…” Guy struggled to find the words, so he chose to remain silent.

Hanson slumped to the platform just as his robot toppled over when T1N pulled his hand out of it’s chest.

“That’ll do Gronk. That’ll do.” Jefferson smiled a knowing smile as he surveyed the crowd that had gone wild.

Gronk. Gronk.

*                                  *                                  *

I thought I'd be done after this one, but you wouldn't want to miss out on Maximillian's epic defeat would you? So, I'm not going to promise that next week is the end, but its pretty close. See you then.