Erotica: Beyond: Dark Action Romance Paranormal Thriller (Adventure Demon Humor International Interracial Mystery Short Stories)

by Iaz Grant

  TO BE CONTINUED IN BOOK 2

  Feasts of Fury

  Feasts of Fury Chapter Series

  Chapter 1

  Jeff Grant

  Copyright © 2016 by Jeff Grant

  All rights reserved. No part of this guide may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Published by Grant Publishing

  Chapter 1

  Max climbed up the ladder and pushed up the door that led to the attic. He put his hands on the floor and pulled himself up through the narrow hole. It was quite dark up here. But Max brought a handful of light dust which his mother was buying from miners. He reached into his pocket and took it out. When he opened his fingers, Max could see a slight glow in his palm radiating from a knoll of dark yellow dust. He brought his hand closer to his mouth and blew. The grains spread all over the attic filling the room with dim light. But that was enough for Max to look around.

  Max had never climbed to the attic. Actually, he had never known that there was an attic in their house until this morning. Max was merely having his breakfast that his mother had left on the kitchen table for him before going to work. Suddenly, he heard a noise coming from above. It seemed to be light vibration. But Max heard it clearly in the morning silence of the house. The vibration repeated several times making Max anxious about locating its source. He looked at the ceiling realizing that he hears the noise from somewhere above when something caught his eye. Right in the center of the kitchen ceiling Max noticed a cleft between plastic planks. He realized that the fissure formed a square which could easily be a door that opened upwards. Max quickly found a ladder, grabbed a handful of light dust and climbed to the attic.

  Plastic rustled under Max's feet as he stepped on the planks. Max was quite tall for his age, so he ducked a little to be able to move in the attic. The light dust helped a lot, as the grains hovered in the air lighting the room. In fact, they did not hover but very slowly falling down to the ground, Max thought. But their fall was so dilatory that people thought they were floating around. And as soon as a grain hit the floor it would die forever never glowing again.

  The vibration noise distracted Max from the thoughts about light dust. Now, it was evident and close. Max made a few steps searching around carefully. A lot of old stuff was stacked up here: metal cookware and pans, furnaces and ovens, cutlery and kitchen appliances - all dusty messy. Max thought that probably all of these items belonged to his father. He moved along towards the further end of the attic. Here he saw a pile of books right on the floor. He went down to his knees in front of the book hill and took one from the top. The title read "No food - no life!"

  "Reasonable," whispered Max to himself and smiled at his joke.

  Max put the book aside and took another one. He wiped off the dust and read "Right Usage of the Poisonous Herbs in Cooking." The boy looked at the name of the author - Jeremy Brooks.

  The next book - "Pan-Fried Honey-Coated Pork" - was again written by Jeremy Brooks. And all others Max fished out from the pile were the works of Jeremy Brook's hand. Max had no idea his father had written so many books. Well, Jeremy was a legendary chef, probably, the most popular one in all the dimensions. He had won almost all the Titles of the Food Feasts, and his record still remained unbeaten. Jeremy knew everything about making food delicious and endowing it with special abilities. So why couldn't he write books, asked Max himself?

  Another vibration pierced his ears. This time, Max could definitely say that the sound came from the bottom of the book pile. He dug into it taking two or three books at a time in each hand trying to reach the bottom as soon as possible. But he never saw the plastic floor of the attic because down the heap of the dusty books he came across a wooden box. This was the source of vibration, thought Max.

  He took a closer look at his finding. The box was of a rectangular shape made of redwood. It was more of a casket or a container for something long. Max couldn't wait to open it. But the box had no visible top to uncover or a lock. Max decided to pick it up from the floor. And when he held it in his hands his finger felt a button on one of the sides of the box. That was it, thought Max.

  He pressed the button, and the top of the box slid to the right to expose a formidable kitchen knife with a red hilt. The metal was shining in the lights of the glowing dust. It seemed to be brand new, untouched and never used. No doubt the knife belong to his father like all other stuff in the attic. But why would he leave this knife here in the dump of useless items?

  Jeremy Brooks was lost for many years already. He had never returned from his last journey to Sivox - The Nether World. As the most popular chef, he had the right to choose a competition to take part in. And he decided to win the last trophy which he had never won before retiring from professional cooking. Jeremy Brooks had never appeared at the Nether League that year.

  The knife vibrated suddenly bringing Max back to reality. He put the box on the floor and picked up the knife. On the bottom of the box, Max found a round device. This was a pocket chef assistant. An old model, but a reliable one. This was the thing that produced the vibrating noise since morning. It was strange that it still worked, thought Max. Years in this box should have taken all its powers away. What sourced this device was unknown. Max took the round gadget, and the assistant's screen came alive. "You have 1 new message," said the notification on the screen.

  "Show the message," commanded Max, and the screen changed exposing the content of the notification.

  Max could not believe what he was reading. "I am still in the competition. Find me. J. B."

  ***

  Alice Brooks was trying to help her tears as she thought it would be inappropriate to cry out in front of her teenage son. But it was a very hard task. She held her husband's pocket chef assistant which Max had found and fetched to her workplace, and tears ran down her cheeks one by one. Customers of the Skin Studio where Alice worked were throwing annoyed looks at the woman as their skins were not receiving enough attention from the skin-maker.

  "Mom," Max was speaking rapidly and excited, "I'm sure Father sent this message. Look, it says "J. B." - Dad's initials. I've sent dozens of replies to this message but he did not answer. Maybe he needs help, Mom. He says "Find me"...

  "Max," Alice interrupted her son, "this can be just a trick to torment us. You don't know but your Father had a lot of foes."

  "But what if it's not," kept Max his line. "What if Dad is still alive, and he seeks help. He says he's at the tournament."

  "Which one, Max?" asked Alice through her intensifying tears. "There are hundreds of competitions in all dimensions. Even if this message is not fake, you won't know where to look for him."

  "Mother," spoke Max confidently, "I will do everything to take part in all of the competitions to find my Father. Even if it takes me all my life."

  With these words, Max kissed his Mother on her wet cheek, took the assistant and left the Studio.

  Alice stood up, wiped her tears and approached her customer who was still lying on the skin changing recliner. She took the edge of the darker skin hanging from his white ankle and started gluing and ironing process. Alice had been working in this Studio since her husband's disappearance. She needed to raise a son somehow.

  As she got used to the thought that Jeremy was likely to be dead, she found a job to earn their living. Jeremy was a famous chef, and back in those times, their family lived in wealth. Jeremy held the record for the most League Titles, and she could understand why he wanted to win the last one so much. But that last one cost him his family and probably his life. And now this message.

  It came as if from nowhere to disturb their lives. She could not believe it was sent by Jeremy, but she also did not want to break Max's hopes. Also, she had to be supportive in her son's undertakings, but she couldn't afford losing Max too on that cooking journey. It would kill her for sure. Alice Brooks was lost in her thoughts and feelings.r />
  In the evening, Alice returned home to discover Max in the living room with one of his Father's books in his hands. He was so captivated by reading that did not even notice Alice. She stood in the doorway for a minute thinking how fast had her son grown. He was already fifteen years old, brave and strong, ready for his own journey. So alike Jeremy.

  "Max," Alice called him over, "we're having a dinner, aren't we?"

  "Yes, Mom," Max put the book aside. "But, please, allow me to cook."

  Alice got confused.

  "And what are you going to cook?" she asked with some doubts in her voice.

  "Something really special," answered Max and smiled. "I already bought all the necessary ingredients."

  Max stood up and walked to the kitchen. He had already prepared all the cookware and food he would need to impress his mother.

  "I read about this food in one of Father's books," he said while washing his hands. "He named it Roasted Orange Beef."

  Max took the roaster, placed the huge piece of beef in it which had a burning orange color.

  "I've marinaded it with Orange Ivy and Ommegon," Max was telling so proudly about his recipe. "Dad says, this should be delicious. If I don't burn it, of course."

  "I'm so proud of you," smiled Alice. "I believe you can make it as tasty as your Dad did."

  Alice approached Max and gave him a kiss on his forehead.

  In twenty minutes, as Jeremy's book recommended, Max took off the roaster and moved the beef into plates. Alice admitted that the plume of smoke radiating from the orange meat filled her nostrils with spicy, savory smell that prompted her to pounce on that plate right away.

  She took the knife and cut a piece from her dish and put it into her mouth. The meet tasted impossibly delicious. It was so hot and poignant, but at the same time it was soft and dulcet, and it melted right in her mouth without even chewing. Alice wanted to say something, to praise her son's efforts, but she was unable to use her mouth for anything else rather than eating the Roasted Orange Beef. For a moment, she closed her eyes, and it felt like Jeremy was at home, sitting next to her waiting for her approval of his new course.

  "Well, Mom," Max interrupted Alice's dreams, "what do you think?"

  "Max," spoke Alice with the mouth full of the orange meat, "this is incredible. You are gifted as your Father. Had you not prepare all of this in front of my eyes in my kitchen, I wouldn't believe you made this dish."

  They laughed.

  When they were done with the dinner, Alice welded cinnamon tea and they went on with the dessert.

  "Mom, I want you to know," said Max. "I'm going to find Dad. I know this won't be easy, and it can be dangerous. I know you worry about me, but you have to understand that I can't sit at home knowing that my Father needs help somewhere out there."

  "I understand," suddenly said, Alice.

  Her answer surprised herself. It would have been more like her to say "Max, that's very unreasonable" or "Max, you don't know for sure if that's your Father's message."

  But she said, "I understand." Nothing like "I understand, but you're not going anywhere."

  It was just "I get it." And she did understand. Suddenly, Alice realized that her son is not the little boy she always thought of him. He had grown-up thoughts and deeds. Also, he was talented and could become a great chef. Besides, if there was a chance to bring Jeremy back home, she had to use it. All of these thoughts were strange for her, but she was sure they were reasonable.

  "I want to take part in the School League, Mom," kept on Max.

  "That's a good decision," supported Alice still doubting these were her words. "If you win the School League, you'll have the right to go in for the Verdena Challenge, and then you'll become a recognized chef who can travel the worlds and win trophies, meanwhile, searching for your Father."

  "That's right, Mom," screamed out Max out of joy. "You do understand me! It works!"

  "What works?" asked Alice.

  Max bit his lower lip.

  "What works, Max?" asked Alice again strictly.

  "Well, I modified Dad's recipe a bit," confessed Max looking down into the depth of his brown cinnamon tea. "I mixed some more ingredients with the beef. I enchanted it with the Breath of Understanding."

  "What?" Alice could not believe her ears."How did you do that?"

  "I was reading one of Dad's books - "Herbs and Spices" - when you came," told Max.

  "I learned about the abilities of Snowy Lovage and Zedragon. Lovage makes people's minds clear of superstitions and worries. And Zedragon let's one think clearly. So, I figured out that the mix of those herbs can have a better effect than one by one. And I called it the Breath of Understanding."

  "You're cheating, Max," Alice looked angry. "I understood your ideas, but I don't share them as I do worry about you."

  "Mom," smiled Max guiltily, "if it makes you feel better, I ate the beef too. So I do understand you."

  They laughed again.

  ***

  In the morning, Max set his first task to go the School Council and sign up for the next School Cooking League. He was sure this would not be difficult at all as they usually took any student who asked them to, even if he was incapable of making an omelet. It would not take him much effort to win this League to be able to qualify for the Green World Championship - Verdena as people called it.

  Every year, one student from each school - usually, the winner of the School League - had a chance to fight for the title with the best chefs from their and other dimensions. And if he got lucky, he could grab the opportunity to travel from dimension to dimensions, taking part in their tournaments and searching for his Father. But first, he had to win the School League.

  Max walked along the school hallway and approached the door of the School Council. He touched the sensor lock. The door slid open, and Max entered a beautiful garden with huge green trees the branches and leaves of which formed a roof high above people's head. The ground was covered with shortly cut fresh grass and narrow stone pathways. It was hard to imagine that this garden situated in the school building in the center of a vast metropolis.

  Each President of the School Council, when elected, had a right to decorate the Council room as he wished. Alyndra - the newly elected President - was an elf by origin, so she choose the forest style. Students loved Alyndra and love the place she created. Alyndra loved students in return.

  Max walked down the path that led to the desk of the President. Alyndra - the beautiful elf woman with sharpened ears and green eyes - sat behind the desk that stood right on the grass in the center of the massive tree trunks. Strange scenery for an academic institution thought Max.

  "Good morning, Alyndra," said Max.

  "Hello there, Max Brooks," said the elf looking at Max from behind of her desk screen.

  "I'm here to sign up for the upcoming School Cooking League," declared Max of his intentions.

  "School League?" smiled Alyndra. "That's a great idea, Max. At last, the son of famous Jeremy Brooks will challenge his first trophy."

  Max smiled back. Every year he was being asked to take part in the tournament because having a participant with the name Brooks would provide higher ratings for the competition. But each year, Alice was against Max's participation in the tournament as she was confident of his victory which meant she could lose him like she lost Jeremy.

  "Yes," said Max, "I'm ready for it. Sign me up."

  "Done," said Alyndra. "You know that the tournament starts in a month, so you're only the second participant who has signed up for it."

  "And who's the first?" inquired Max.

  "Me!" Max turned around hearing a profound and confident voice from behind.

  A tall boy with black hair and dark eyes was standing nose to nose with Max.