The Monsters of Steel City April 18, 2011Posted by jacobsrussell in Uncategorized.
Tags: fiction, super-heroes, superheroes, suspense
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Part 1: The Vampire
Mordecai was cold. Cold and lying on cold, clammy stone. His mouth was dry and it hurt behind his eyes, like he was hung over. But he hadn’t been drinking. It didn’t hurt in one spot on his head like he’d been hit. Had he been knocked out by a blow to the head? No. He hadn’t been hit, but he’d been stabbed or stuck with something. He’d been stuck by that guy… that… thing…
“Oh sh–” Mordecai cut himself off for fear that something might hear him. Someone, he quickly corrected himself. Not something. He didn’t need to get crazy.
Mordecai rushed to get to his feet, and banged his head on a stone table on the way up. “OW F***!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. Everything in the room moved and swayed for a moment. Mordecai wondered whether that was from his head hitting the table, or something else. He felt sick, like he was going to vomit. Questions started to flood his mind. Where was he? How did he get here? He found his two dollar fedora on the floor and put it on. That always helped steady him when he was drunk or sick.
The room was dark and light at the same time. But how could that be? Looking around he saw that shapes and shadows were playing tricks on his eyes. The light in the room was coming from one oil lamp on the stone table he hit with his head. The table was against the wall at one end of the room. At the other end was a door. It was open. There was a faint light, like moonlight, coming from it. It was his way out. As soon as his eyes and brain figured that shape out, it figured out the bigger shape between him and the door. It was a coffin. Not one of those plain wood jobs, like the one they buried his brother in. This was one of those big stone ones like in the movies. The scary ones.
That… guy… That crazy freak had stabbed Mordecai with something in his left side, just below the ribs. Mordy rubbed at his side and felt the soreness and the hole in his jacket and shirt. Beneath that hole he found a small, fresh scab. It felt like he’d been stabbed with something narrow and sharp, like a needle. It hadn’t been a knife, he could remember that. What could he remember? He and the boys were playing poker. They were guarding Saul Cohen’s shipment in the warehouse before Big Saul could come get it.
Coming Soon… February 21, 2011Posted by jacobsrussell in Uncategorized.
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For those of you who have been following my blog (both of you), I am changing it into a fiction-writing blog. Or at least, it is going to be primarily fiction writing. I’m still working out how it is going to work (uh…). But stay tuned…