Here are a few short stories I've written. These are riddled with errors, and probably suck for the most part, but that doesn't keep me from embarrassing myself.. Enjoy!
Nature is adaptive, so much that if a child is born blind, his other senses can compensate for the loss of sight. Most of the documented cases are in line with what we've all heard or read, people will use one or two of the other senses to make up for the one that is lost. This "balance" is our physiology's way to help the sense impaired to function.
Our story starts in Louisville Ky where Lucas Kriegor was born and diagnosed Deaf with severe autism and was selfishly put up for adoption. He remained in keep of the state as his needs growing up were not in the realm of foster care. His issues were abrupt rage, and violence. He was kept in what could be described as solitary confinement. His mental state was less than average; his IQ when it could be measured was around 60. Because of his mental issues people who worked keeping him were cruel, regular beatings and mental abuse were the norm, he knew no difference.
One doctor did however show some interest because of the growth of his cranial cavity, you see this side effect as it were, is a sign of him generating some form of savant intellect. None of the doctors however could find any evidence that would suggest anything above average intelligence. Dale Headstrum was an unknown researcher of these types of neurological defects, he often cruised these institutions in hopes of tripping on a subject to study. Dale had indefinite patience with Lucas, even though some of his bouts of anger were directed towards him, one episode resulting in his arm being broken. Dale studied him often. They became familiar with each other, though any kind of positive rapport wasn't possible.
Dale was focused on him tenaciously, pretty much through out Lucas's entire adolescence with no sign of savant intellect, eventhough several physical signs pointed towards something brewing up there that weren't normal. Normal cranial growth of autistic children peak around 2 to 5 years, Lucas's head grew at a steady rate between birth, and age 7. To Dale's dismay he never found any signs of anything out of the normal, though this fact didn't detour him from continuing his work with him through his adolescence.
At the age of 16, Licas was a thin malnourished introvert who could not function even in simple conversation with anyone. He almost literally lived inside his own mind. At this point he was out of any institution, homeless, and with the inability to even approach anyone for any reason, he lived like a rat eating garbage, and living in the sewers. The stereotypical picture of a crazy homeless person pissing in the streets would be pretty close to what people see.
One day passing a pawn shops rear entrance between garbage can searches, he found himself witnessing a violent robbery; a middle aged couple who owned and operated the establishment were being tormented by the four would-be assailants. The neighborhood wasn't on the good end of town, but Lucas's main worries about the situation were to not be noticed, he was very fearful of any kind of human contact, positive or negative.
One of the criminals took the male proprietor out to the alley near where Lucas was hiding, and simply shot him in the back of the head execution style, and went back in leaving the ruins of the store owner in the ally by his feet. Seeing this man lay on the ground had a profound effect on Lucas, and for the first time in his life he felt his mind clear, this situation somehow changed him and then for no apparent reason walked into the back door of the shop. It wasn't to help the sole air to the establishment, the clarity that just bestowed upon him was something that he never experienced, and this clarity simply compelled him in.
Lucas felt invincible with his now functioning faculties, so he did what instinctively came to him, and broke a near by display case and took a cheap katana sword knockoff out. The assailants almost laughing at the spectacle of the strange kid wanting to take on four armed men with a ninja sword took a pot shot with the weapon one of them had and hit him in the lower torso grazing his side, he fell to the floor. He was instantly taken back mentally to a less than invincible state as the realness of it all set in, still he stood back up. With the attention of the criminals now focused on the bounty they thought they had. Lucas took the sword, mind you he never held one before, and threw it with extreme accuracy and impaled who he thought was the dominant person of the group through his head.
The other three men seeing this dazed for a second stared at their companions still body, and back at Lucas staring strait at them, they then started shooting while he took cover near the female store owner still in shock, not really caring at this point what happened next because of the already extensive loss of her husband. Looking at her face and actually understanding what she was going though was new to him, before it was just him, his feelings, his survival and nothing more.
These kinds of variables never entered his cognitive processes. Now he felt compelled to take this data he was receiving from her and react with an end result of all four men brutally bludgeoned to death, one about a half mile from the store after Lucas chased him down and killed him with his bare hands. He had the sword, but felt it necessary to feel the personal connection of taking his life in a personal way.
He spent the rest of the day basking in his clarity, almost normal excitement filled him as the future looked bright, and he somehow fixed what was wrong with him his entire life. For the first time he slept in a bed, at a homeless shelter much like the ones he's avoided his entire life because of the interaction of people he no longer feared, he laid silent and slept deep.
The next morning he woke with his eyes still shut, trying to remember where we drifted off the night before only to realize that he was in the middle of that shelter and the crowd within. He sprung out of his bed knocking people and furniture over alike as he fled, all his fears had returned. To his horror the clarity that he had the day before was also gone, even worse the experiences of the previous day were with him like a distant childhood memory, he could not remember the faces, or the smells. The only thing he took from that experience was remembering how the clarity felt, which in huge contrast was not with him; he needed to feel it again.
After his experience Lucas found himself on the edge of suicide with bouts of depression that even his past child hood experiences could not compare with. If he could only obtain this clarity again, he would do anything to experience it. The only thing that he had as a token from that time was the katana he took from that display case. He cherished and protected it as if it were his best friend.
One cold rainy night in one of the usual places he drifted off to sleep, he was awakened by another vagrant innocently landing on top of his cardboard dwelling after he fell climbing out of a trash bin. Needless to say Lucas was pissed, and faced him with the range he's always had with any situation like this at first, but then he calmed down, and thought to himself, what if death was the key to his clarity. He drew the sword from his rain drenched oilskin overcoat.
The person he faced was a hungry middle aged man, malnourished, and littered with different colored garbage bags to keep the rain off and an endless layering of clothing. It was a hard thing to be comfortable in this kind of weather, but comfort was the last on his mind as Lucas and his eyes fixed on him which seemed to convey some form of burning hunger. Lucas could not hold his word with stillness; it almost looked like he had difficulties standing, his mid was racing of thoughts of regaining the mindset he once experienced. So he went in swinging the sword with the agility of three legged horse running the Kentucky Derby.
The first couple swings were missed as neither was well versed in combat of any form. After a more few close misses and one good connection with his right thigh; he went down. Lucas taking advantage of this took a swing at his neck attempting to decapitate him. The tip of the sword hit the ground before a mortal wound could be dealt. So he tried again just to take a horrid gash on his chin, again the wound was not a deadly one. The man was bleeding profusely with his chin hanging off of his face suffering horridly, still Lucas kept swinging frantically finally killing him after he suffered a very brutal and painful death.
In the end the murder he just committed did not award the goal he was seeking so passionately to obtain and his depression continued, though the guilt of his empty kill weighed little on his conscience, which oddly enough was something that his mental disabilities gave him. Or at least when he didn't have his clarity as he will soon find out.
It's been a few months since he committed his empty murder. He almost forgot about the first experience in the pawn shop when he first gotten his clarity. It's now almost completely out of his mind as he slips into the routine he's was so used to in the past though he still keeps the sword close more for a comfort item than anything else.
A comfortable spring day our vagrant is hiding amongst the remnants of a carpet depot, and sees a familiar face walking from the entrance of a nearby shop, it's one of a very few people he could consider himself familiar with, the doctor Dale Headstrum from his childhood, but his fear of any kind of contact keeps Lucas at bay. However Lucas's comfort level is tested as Dale notices him.
Dale confused because Lucas isn't of age yet, and he wondered what circumstances brought him to the streets, the system failed, Dale thought somehow that he failed him, and started walking towards him. Lucas brimming with friction at the conflict between the fears of human contact and bonding with someone he's familiar with, just as always his fear wins and starts running as Dale peruses.
As they ran through the streets Dale with his phone frantically calling whoever is noticed by a local hoodlum and the chase is stopped short by a swift clothesline move to Dales face with the butt of a hand gun, Dale is bleeding, on the ground alive for now, and one less cell phone. Lucas sees this and stops in his tracks.
Suddenly his entire demeanor changed, he stood straight up instantly noticing the smells in the air and was aware of everything around him, including the fear of the doctor, it was beaming from him like cries for help. In that instant his sword was drawn and still like being clamped in a vise yet he held it with little effort, an extension of his own arm in perfect balance. His head tilted slightly towards the ground and an eye pointed at his soon to be target, the man was not fearful, and Lucas thinking that his lack of fear will undoubtedly be his end.
The doctor was astonished by his transformation, while he was the same person physically, his mental changes even made that physical person totally different just by the way he carried himself, a huge contrast of the man he seen a few minutes ago. His search and patience with Lucas during his childhood didn't find any of his gifts, but now he was staring it right in the face. Seeing his clarity, his focus the doctor was less fearful. He needed to know just what Lucas was capable of, he was about to see.
Unlike the guys in the pawn shop the man didn't laugh, he was a smart man and seen his focus, while he wasn't fearful he instantly took a couple shots at Lucas one missing altogether and another deflected by the handle of his sword, the assailant, and Dale alike assumed that the block was luck, however Lucas somehow seen the bullet come through the air and reacted. Lucas took cover while he counted the rounds.
Dale just hearing bullets, while Lucas and the unknown man knew how many were left in the magazine. Both were aware of the ensuing fight that would follow when the clip emptied. It was apparent that the man had one clip and was saving the last few shots for ones that would count. Lucas knowing this was wondering how he could level the field, after a while Lucas finally came from his cover and ran towards the man pretty much asking to get killed.
The man pushed the trigger once and just like before the bullet grazed off the handle of his knockoff katana as with the last remaining round in the same exact place was deflected in the exact same manner. The man with his empty gun stood still face to face with Lucas as he simply, chopped off his head. There was no lateral movement of his body when he was decapitated; just a downward motion of his lifeless body to the ground, his kill was flawless.
He had his clarity, and was beaming with the prospect of sharing a bond with his childhood friend when suddenly a memory flash came to him from the past when he murdered the man in the alley that night for no good reason; he fell to his knees and started crying uncontrollably, he's taken this mans life, and four others in ways that seemed honorable, but that man in the ally will haunt his clarity, he thought forever.
Dale seeing his guilt assumed that it was from the kill today; Lucas neither denied nor tried to correct his thought pattern, he stood up in front of dale carefully cleaning his blade.
We need to talk.
Lucas had his clarity, and the full brunt of the memory of the man he killed in that alley. Dale took him to his place till they could figure out where to go next. Lucas wasn't of age after all and being an employee of the state dale had certain protocols he had to adhere to so to the doctors' residence they went at least for the weekend.
The discussions that followed the next few hours were mostly of the childhood Lucas endured. He talked about himself almost in the third person like he was a different person. Lucas remembered everything including the broken arm he had given him. He reluctantly confessed about his murder and the contrast between what he did in the alley without his clarity and the dark ones he took with honor with it.
Dale being a fairly honest and blunt person mentioned that he would have to tell the authorities about everything, and because Lucas knew the gun was emptied when he decapitated the man today that would have to be brought out in the open also. But his age and mental condition as the good doctor mentioned may help some.
Dale; May I see it?
Lucas drew his blade from his coat grasped it by the blade and handed Lucas the sword, handle first.
Dale; I'm a collector, and this my friend is the biggest piece of shit I've ever seen. Let me show you something.
They walked down the stairs to the basement. It was unfinished except for a corner that had some unpainted drywall. And a few racks and glass display cabinets kind of like the ones you'd see in a gun or pawn shop.
Dale; You know most people can't do what you did today, not without a lot of practice. And that blade it's as dull as a nickel. Where did you learn to do that?
Lucas; I didn't learn.
Dale: I've dabbled a bit with a sword, though I've never had the opportunity to take a mans life, nor do I want to. But I do spar with these bokken swords.
Lucas smiled as he knew Dale wanted to see what he was actually capable of, and he also knew he would never be skilled enough to find out. They each took a sword, as Lucas felt the weight of it in his hand he noticed its differences between this and his old blade, this was much lighter. Dale mentioned that the proportions in size and weight are parallel to an actual katana, and didn't even come close to the piece of crap he held onto for those months.
They stood faced each other as Dale took stance, with some form of ritual whatever as Lucas stood there in a casual â€œguy holding a swordâ€ stance. The difference between the two was huge, Dale schooled with a blade, Lucas with his stillness and focus.
Dale; Are you ready? Is this your stance?
Lucas; Sure is it wrong?
Dale; Well let me show you
Dale went at Lucas with some force with a basic downward thrust. Lucas without even making an exertive facial expression deflected his held back attack by taking his finger tips and placing them on the end of his blade whiles his other on the handle. Dale looked at the odd defensive move as his sword slid down the side of Lucas's blade then Lucas grabbed the thumb of his right hand and mock slashed his left shoulder. Dales' sword lay on the ground.
Dale; That was weird what is it?
Lucas; I call it me not getting hit, you're holding back?
Dale; Ok, lets see what you got.
Dale Again played offensive and went at Lucas a combination of three blows the first two were meant to be deflected and the third, surprise attack while facing away under the arm was meant to be landed. The first swing was deflected by Lucas's sword, while the second was deflected by the palm of his hand. Dale using the momentum if his previous swing spun around as he positioned the tip of the blade under his arm pit, and thrust it towards him as fast has he could. Still in the same stance Lucas never even stepped sideways took the handle of his sword straight up business end towards the ground and sharp side towards Dale took a slice at oddly enough at the tip of the opposing sword.
Dale looked at the now joined swords in disbelief as he noticed the first 4 inches of his fake katana banana peeled around the edge of his.
Dale; Damn boy, your moves, are unorthodox but they work, it's almost improvisation. Did you teach yourself?
Lucas; Well no I didn't, I seen your attack and reacted, it's the focus.
Dale; I'm not sure I understand it's evident that you have no formal training, but to say simple concentration lets you do this?
Lucas; No Dale, concentration would imply that an effort was put forth. We all see a blurred version of what is really out there. I simply see clearer, feel more clear, smell and taste clearer. It's not slow motion, or some ability god gave me.
Dale suddenly realized the kid from the past was deaf as a railroad tie.
Dale; What happened to your hearing, you can hear now?
Lucas; visibly weary from the conversation, no I still cannot hear. I know what you're thinking, but sometimes I read your mannerisms, body language, your lips, and the vibrations in the air. Taking all those variables in together lets me communicate, I not only understand your words, but I get the underlying meaning.
Dale; I want to give you something.
Dale walks to the other end of his basement into a closet and pulls out a sword from the top shelf. Lucas notices the intricate detail of the scabbard as he received the sword from him. He grasped the handle and pulled the first few inches out as the light hit his face from the remarkable sheen it was emitting.
Dale; It's fairly old and worth some and once probably actually seen some action. I want you to have it. The power you have is amazing; this can only make you better. That other blade of yours just won't do.
Lucas seeing his sincerity knew the only course of action would be to take the sword. The underlying meaning of his words was very convincing, so he accepted the gift and in the same motion he lay down his old blade in trade.
Lucas; Ok that's awesome, lets get you a proper set of clothes, food and a good nights sleep, I feel tomorrow is going to be a busy day.
Lucas was fearful of the first time the clarity left him while he slept. He wasn't about to just doze off tonight. He did however take Dale up on the food, clothes and a very hot shower. Pretty much the first he's had in years, and exactly the first one he's actually appreciated. The gifts he's received today were more than he could ever imagine.
A few hours past, night has taken the day and they talked through most of the night till Dale turned in. Lucas sat in the basement and meditated being careful not to get too close to a sleep type state.
Much to his anguish the he could actually feel fear close in on him, the clean lines of perception was being forcibly blurred, what was happening to him now was worse than trying to get the clarity when he didn't have it. He for a few moments as it slipped away had a view of both states. The fear bubbled up and he started screaming frantically rifling through the cabinets looking for that old sword.
The gift sword ignored by Lucas was picked up by the now awakened Dale. The two like hours before were face to face with weapons drawn. Dale was very fearful and knew he wasn't up for a fight with him. Lucas lunged forward with an awkward attack while Dale easily deflected his blade. Instantly Dale knew he was lost again, his focus was gone. The person was transformed physically the same person but nothing else similar.
Fearful again of pretty much everything Lucas ran for the door erratically swinging at Dale hitting him once on the forearm close to where it he broke it before.
He was lost to Dale, and himself.. again..