Horror, Humor, and Heroes
Title Page
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Horror, Humor, and Heroes
by
Jim Bernheimer
Copyright © 2009 by Jim Bernheimer
Cover design by Shannon Farrell
Book design by Jim Bernheimer and Ted Vinzani
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
Visit my website at www.JimBernheimer.com
Printed in the United States of America by CreateSpace
First Printing: February 2009
ISBN 144145652X
EAN-13 9781441456526
Dedication and Acknowledgements
First and foremost, I’d like to thank my wife and daughters for putting up with all my foolishness. Kim is an extremely patient woman and for that, I’m eternally grateful. Laura and Marissa are a pair of wonderful girls and a portion of the proceeds from this work will be used to spoil them rotten. Special thanks to my sister-in-law, Shannon Farrell for the cover art.
This list of people needing thanks is headed up by Ted and Pam Vinzani and all their invaluable advice, the dynamic editing duo of Matthew and Lindsey Schocke, and the steadfast wisdom of John Cornell. Also needing a mention is Chris Morton, Mike Skoglund, Mike Fairbanks, Lynda Sappington, Cheryl, Anne Walsh, Beth Hartung, Keith and Dorothy McComb, Tim Joy, and the many members of Alpha Fight Club (Sean Melton, Brian Albright, Steven Avery, Dave Smith, Dave Bagini, Ivan, Moses, Charlie, Carson, Dave Waicukauski, Rob Yurkowski, Chris Gibson, Colin, SomeGuyFawkes, and all the rest). Brendan MaClear and H.A. Senidal also provided some quality editing services. I also wish to thank Ryan A. Span for his assistance. Thanks also to the crowd at DLP, Keira, Wim, Holly, and David Hale. (I sure know a lot of people named Dave!)
The members of The Pit writing group at Permuted Press must be applauded for their incredible critiques. They are a talented and twisted group of individuals. I count myself lucky to be among them. Special thanks to Thom, Zak, Matthew, Bobbie, Jim, Raoul, Victorya, John H., and John O.
Last, but not least, to all my fans, thank you for your encouragement.
The stories Reality Bites! and Cookie? both first appeared on the audiocasting site Drabblecast. Kudos to Norm Sherman and his staff for the hard work they put into their site. The Rally was first released on the website www.fanficauthors.net. Kudos to Tim Joy for all his effort there.
In Confessions of a “D-List” Supervillain, the real-life singer Biz Markie and his song Just a Friend are mentioned several times along with Tommy Tutone's 8675309 Jenny. Likewise, this is true for several Simon and Garfunkel titles mentioned in The View from My Room. Obviously, one cannot write a story about a superhero or supervillain in a powered suit without acknowledging Marvel Comics for their creation of Iron Man and Robert Heinlein for his groundbreaking novel Starship Troopers. Oppenheimer's famous "I am become Shiva…" quote is used in Lieutenant Armchair.
Adventurer’s Beware! is a parody of all the Role Playing Games from Dungeons and Dragons on. No infringement on any trademarks is intended.
Table of Contents
The Wolf’s Cry
Raw and Real
My Son – The Monster
The Red Badge of Doom
Charlie Horse
The Rally
Reality Bites!
Cookie?
Adventurers Beware!
A Matter of Perspective
The View from My Room
Lieutenant Armchair
Confessions of a “D-List” Supervillain
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Battle Maidens: Novel Preview
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
The Wolf’s Cry
by Jim Bernheimer
Nal was a lean, fast, brown hunter. Air laden with the heady smell of pine filled his lungs. His four paws padded through the light snow. He enjoyed the soft crunching created by his journey through the forest. The Great Spirit decreed that the pack would be the guardians of the forest and that the other beasts that lived there would provide them sustenance and sport. It was the law of the forest and a sacred trust the pack took very seriously – at least most of them.
Smaller animals skittered away from Nal. Squirrels scampered up into the trees. Nal glared at the white rabbit, which hoped its natural colorings would spare it.
“I see you.” Nal laughed as the morsel bolted for its burrow. He was craving a great feast – one that he could boast about among his brethren and not just something to quell the rumblings of a hungry stomach.
One of the females, Teya, told of a group of deer she saw two days ago while searching for a lost youngling. A buck with large antlers would be a worthy foe for Nal and his anticipation grew. This could be a chase that would cover great distances. Eventually, his meal would tire and fight. Nal wanted to return to the pack dragging his trophy with its blood matting his fur.
Some of the older members accused him of being foolish and vain. Nal scoffed at them and paid little heed to their meaningless advice. He always answered, “If you have no pride in what you are and no joy in what you do, then your life must be empty and without meaning. I pity you.”
A familiar scent wafted in the air and Nal smiled. It was not the telltale signs of a deer, but that of the hated rivals. There was a bear near! For a member of the pack, there was no greater sport than baiting a bear. Nal accelerated, wanting to dance around the large and clumsy creature, reminding it how the Spirit had chosen the wolves to be the guardians, rather than trust the protection of this forest to something so fat and lazy.
He felt extraordinarily lucky. Never in his three seasons had he encountered a bear this late in the year. Doubtless it would be tired and surly, which would only make the taunting that much more entertaining.
He searched for his quarry, already preparing his jeers, but Nal recognized another smell that gave him pause. It was the sickly sweet smell of blood. The bear was wounded. There were few creatures in the forest that could injure one. Had the others gone to kill a bear and not invited him? Nal’s humor darkened with rage. If that was the case, Nal would most certainly let the others know his anger.
#
A short distance from where Nal first caught wind of the bear, he found the tracks. They were most unusual and this put Nal ill at ease. This was something he had not seen before. A wide swath of snow was pushed aside, as if the clumsy bear had rolled down a hill and decided to crawl on its stomach rather than walk. The only problem with that was there was no hill near and Nal knew of nothing large enough to drag a grown bear.
As he pondered this development and followed these mysterious tracks in the ground, he heard several loud noises. They were sharp cracks that reminded Nal of the sound of trees falling or when the Great Spirit sent rain and thunder to remind all who dwell in the forest of its power.
Despite what others may think, Nal was no fool. There were too many bad omens to ignore. Something was clearly wrong, and a tremor of fear clawed at him. Whatever this was, Nal had never heard any of the other guardians speak of it. Beneath his fur, his heart beat quicker and his senses sharpened as curiosity conque
red fear.
He sped off, following these strange tracks as fast as he could. A consuming need to know what was happening gripped him. The wolf was so intensely focused on this goal that he nearly collided with a fawn stumbling towards him. The youngling tried to turn to flee from Nal, but collapsed. Like a newborn, it attempted to rise, but fell again. Only then did Nal see the fleshy wound on the young deer’s underbelly. Instinctively, he wanted to pounce, but his duty required that he question the creature.
“What has happened? Did you fight with the bear?”
“There was no bear,” the fawn replied, struggling to look at Nal. “Am I going to die?”
A sense of pity welled up in Nal’s chest. Blood was flowing freely and pooling in the snow next to the doomed creature. “Yes. Still, I must know what did this to you. If it was not the bear, what was it?”
“I do not know, guardian. We were drinking at the stream, near the edge of the forest, and I heard noises. Next, I felt pain and was thrown to the ground. I was so scared and ... I ran.”
“There were no other animals around? What of your parents?”
“They fell, but did not get up. The others with us ... they ... they...”
The young deer stopped and Nal recognized the signs of death taking the unfortunate soul.
There was nothing else to learn here. Nal decided to feed quickly – his “great feast” was instead a creature killed by some foreign means. Whatever was happening required his full attention and hunger would only distract him. He sniffed the wound, but it smelled strange, wrong – yet another mystery to ponder. Uncertain, he avoided that area and took his meal from elsewhere on the carcass.
Sated, Nal followed the stream to where the forest ended. There was much blood and strange tracks the likes of which Nal had never seen before. The tracks led out of the forest and combined with more tracks that were foreign to him.
The bodies were gone. This confused Nal more. He paced the area several times and growled to the Spirit for answers and guidance.
“I doubt you will get your answers that way,” said a raven from a tree branch nearby.
Nal, like the rest of his kind, did not care for flyers. They uttered nonsense about the world outside the forest. The pack had enough work fulfilling their mandate of protecting those that live in the forest, without suffering the idiocy of those passing by. “What do you know, avian? Tell me! I command you!”
The raven responded by cackling. “I am no servant of yours, four-legs. I am the rider of the winds and you are both literally and figuratively beneath me.”
Nal put his front paws on the tree which the bird perched on and growled, flashing his teeth. “You will tell me what you saw, or you will leave this forest.”
With wings beating, the raven shook loose snow off the branch, sending it down on Nal. “You speak as if you have power over me, but I will humor you, oh flightless one. Heed my warning and beware the coming of man and the beasts that serve it.”
As the raven took flight, Nal yelped after it. “What is man? Come back and tell me! I must know!”
#
“You should know better than to listen to the birds, Nal. They are always speaking gibberish. That is why the Great Spirit took away their front legs and banished them to the sky.”
The others nodded in agreement at Fang’s statement. Fang was Alpha and leader of the pack. All aspired to be like him, Nal included, even though Fang frequently criticized how the younger wolf performed his duties.
Nal protested, his tail swishing in annoyance. “Avian gibberish did not kill several deer and perhaps even a bear. What the raven called ‘man’ did, and it comes from the flatlands outside the forest! The fawn did not even see what attacked it!”
The old gray wolf sighed. “Do you not have enough to do without inventing stories? The flatlands have their own guardians. I could have another cover your patrols and you could go visit the coyotes and ask them about these phantoms.”
“Come see the tracks, if you don’t believe me!”
Dur, the swiftest, didn’t even bother to hide the contempt in his reply. “Even if I were to run at my best speed I would not get there before the rains come, or did the bird steal your sense of smell as well.” He looked at the others. “Maybe we should send Nal to visit the mountain lions to the west to ask what they see from the rocks above.”
Several howled with laughter at the idea, but Dur wasn’t finished yet. He turned to the shadowed area by a large tree. “Teya, you were in that area last, did you witness these creatures? Are we in danger from foes we cannot see?”
The she-wolf on the edge of the circle behind Dur shook her muzzle. “No, but I also did not find the missing cub that wandered off. Perhaps we should exercise caution.”
Dur turned and sniffed. “You think we should believe this braggart? Are you going into heat already? It’s a little early for that.”
Teya growled. “If you weren’t going to listen to me then why did you bother asking for my opinion?”
Fang cut off all conversation with a low rumbling noise that commanded everyone’s attention. “Enough of this petty bickering! Nal, when you can provide some actual proof of this creature, we will consider it. Until such time, I do not wish to hear of it again. Not from you or anyone!” His gaze moved around the circle daring any of the guardians to defy him. None did.
As the rest started drifting away, Nal moved closer to Teya. “Thank you for not following Dur’s lead.”
Teya scoffed, “The only one more full of himself amongst us than you is Dur. I advocate caution because it is what is best for the pack, not because I believe in your farfetched tales.”
“You don’t have to be such a feline,” Nal snapped back.
Teya bared her fangs at the comparison. “Get it right, I am as the Great Spirit made me – a bitch. And I suggest you go, before I show you exactly how much of one I can be.”
With nothing else to say, Nal turned and trotted away. He knew he would have to find proof that man existed or else be considered a foolish weakling among his peers. Many headed off to the clearing to chant to the white disk in the sky and seek the blessings of the Spirit who dwelt there. Nal did not join them. The Spirit did not help the bear and the deer. A sinking feeling, colder than the winter winds, passed through him. Perhaps the Spirit is testing the pack, or this man was beyond the Spirit’s power.
Sleep did not come easily for Nal that night.
#
He did not dally and waste time. Most would consider this unusual. Nal made his fastest passage ever to the southern end of the forest. He would patrol the other areas later, but felt his presence was required here. The squirrels fled upwards as always, but this time he stopped and asked them, “Do you know of this creature called man?”
The frivolous hoarders did not answer his question. When he caught a rabbit, opossum, and raccoon for his food, he would first ask them the same question.
The rabbit answered, “Let me go and I will tell you.”
When he did, the animal bolted, leaving Nal hungry.
The opossum must have thought Nal was trying to trick it into saying something and continued lying limp on the ground. When Nal’s patience ended, he ate it anyway.
On the third night, he cornered an aging raccoon. “I have seen too much in this life, guardian. What I know I will tell you and then I will beg you for a swift release. Man is slow moving, for they walk on their hind legs and are terrifying to behold. With little or no fur of their own, they adorn themselves with the skins of the animals they slay.”
“That is absurd!” Nal growled.
“Why would I lie to you in my final moments? I have seen my kind worn on top of their heads. My mate likely suffered that fate. I’d rather offer myself to you instead.”
Nal tried to understand what this raccoon was saying. It was tempting to dismiss him as a senile forest dweller that’d seen too many seasons, but knowing how the other guardians treated him; he simply acknowledged the lesser beast
and urged the male to continue the tale.
“They subjugate other animals to do their bidding and carry sticks which make noise and smoke. Unlike you, guardian, they can kill their prey by simply waving their long sticks at them. They have both dark and light colorings. When I lived in the east, only the dark ones lived. They would throw sticks at others with great force. These red ones were a threat, that much is true, but the light ones are much more dangerous. They do not have to hurl their sticks. Those are the ones you must be most careful to avoid.”
“Do you know if man is of the Spirit?”
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