Into Darkness: Collected Short Stories Vol. 1

By José Ignacio Quiñones

Into Darkness: Collected Short Stories is a series of collected weird literature that includes short stories, flash fiction, poetry and one chapter excerpts from five actual novels.
The series will be compiled as ten volumes which will culminate as an anthology. Each volume will have different types of short stories, different kinds of poetry, mental notes and flash fiction.
Each volume will also include one chapter from five actual novels that will progress with each volume.

• Language: English
• Publisher: José Ignacio Quiñones
• Release date: Jan 13, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311246226

José Ignacio Quiñones

We are an entity made up of different voices with different styles, ranging from the most bizarre to the geekiest. We are a group in unison, writing off till the end of days. We might make you smile, frown or shock you. Our words evolve into stories beyond imagination and weave in and out of your realities. Descend into a world of madness, of fallacies and similes. But whatever you do, do not forget your past, for it will be your only salvation. Check out our current creators: Sinister Publications Author Spotlight: J.I.Q. is a college graduate who currently sails through the murky waters of our troubled times. Since day one, he was been an avid dreamer. It was only until recent times that the idea to write down his vivid fantasies came to realization. He sat down within the depths of his man cave and cooked up many ideas. Every night his nightmares would come to reality and trouble him on the white digital canvas. He sat there typing away while the storm brewed up hatred and darkness in the distance. The horizon turned blood red, signaling the dawn of a new era. It was a new beginning, it was the inception of an idea that slowly grew inside his mind, eventually eating at him with every word he typed. He finally immersed himself into his very own story, never to know the difference between reality and fiction. Mad Villain is a silly goose on a rampage, drifting through the quiet neighborhoods of his wretched town, wreaking havoc. His stereo bumps to random garbage, muffled by the old, beat up speakers of his Civic. As he drives off into the distance, with one hand on the wheel and the other on the Big Gulp, his mind, with extreme vengeance, crafts satirical pieces. He might be mental, but that’s the least of his worries since he’s running away from his past. It always comes back to haunt him with fond memories of old. But unlike stories that go untold, his past is going places.

Book preview

Into Darkness:

Collected Short Stories Vol. 1

The following is a collection of weird literature written under the moonlight as a series. It includes various short stories and other literature.

By José Ignacio Quiñones

FALLEN APOSTATE PRESS

Into Darkness: Collected Short Stories Vol. 1

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved © José Ignacio Quiñones 2013

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. This book was published by José Ignacio Quiñones under Fallen Apostate Press. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any means without the expressed permission of the author. This includes reprints, excerpts, photocopying, recording or any future means of reproducing text.

Published in the United States by Fallen Apostate Press

About the author:

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/jiquinones

Dedications

This book is dedicated to my friends and family who supported me throughout my journey in life. I would like to give special thanks to Collen C. Cuntz and Anabel Morales for their continued support in my tasks.

Contents

Destiny (Short Story)

Out for Blood (Short Story)

Dr. Sin (Short Story)

Missing You (Short Story)

La Maldita Muerte (Short Story)

Fallacy

Run to the Border

Mexican’s Guide to the Zombie Apocalypse

Incarnate

The Seekers: Apocalypse

Mental Notes (witching Hour)

Poems

Destiny

He followed the scent of death up towards the temple high above the mountains. The journey was long and arduous, but he focused on what he had to accomplish. Years had gone by and the thought of achieving his ultimate feat robbed him of sleep.

Finally, after searching for him for days he picked up his trail up to this point. He crept up to the two guards protecting the massive dark, blood colored temple. The snow kept falling upon him, but it didn’t slow him down a bit. His body moved effortless and swift despite the harsh cold that threatened to hinder his path. He lunged towards them without even blinking. The guards posed no match. He cut them down with each swift blow of his fearsome blade.

He swung his blade forward and twisted it in a violent manner, shaking off the blood that stained it. He then flung it forward and sheathed it. He pushed the wooden doors in with great force and made a quick dash into the center of the temple. He scanned the area left and right before spotting her next to the pond. He glanced right behind her, reaching for his sword after noticing him. He was sitting a small distance behind her on a tall black wooden chair in the back of the room.

His mind didn’t allow him to doubt in any way. His body moved in sequence with it. His feet dashed in symphony to his desires, making him light as a feather. Like a flash of lightning, he made his way right past her and struck the old man on his chest, dead center, with the back of his sword. The harsh blow sent the old man flying backwards against the wall. He came crashing down hard against the floor below him, head first. The blow dazed him and left him somewhat disoriented.

She didn’t think twice. Immediately after the incident she ran up to him, trying to stop him from harming her father. With strong force, he pushed her down, trying to release himself from her grip.

Please don’t kill him, she begged, clasping his legs with all her might in an attempt to impede his movement.

Please move aside. I have to kill this filthy pig, he replied, looking down at her as he dragged her along with every step he took.

Please don’t, she added, before bursting into tears.

He paused for a second. The sound of her tears hitting the floor produced a cacophony of sounds that sneaked their way into his soul. It sounded like the slithering of a treacherous snake. The sound kept echoing inside the walls of his mind. He just couldn’t believe that she still wanted the old man alive even after all the wrong he had done unto her and everyone around him.

You can’t kill him. Even though he’s caused great harm, he is still my father, she sobbed. She tried to contain her composure as he dragged her across the dead cold floor.

His mind kept pausing like a mental glitch. It then began flooding itself with mental pictures of all the people he murdered; of all those whom he had ravaged. He could still picture the old man in his younger age, standing before his father, holding his Katanas out, slicing the air thin.

Within seconds the blood coming from his father’s severed head would cover the walls. The aim of killing him had consumed every bit of his existence. He had trained himself to master the art of the sword so he could defeat him and his armies. And now, he finally had the chance to kill him and put an end to his reign of terror.

The old man laid before him on the ground. Deteriorated by time, he sought forgiveness for his actions.

He didn't know what nerve struck inside her mind to even plea for his life. She had known all along of all the atrocities he had committed. She knew of all the sins he had brought unto the world, and yet, she still wanted him alive.

He got up. Still disoriented, the old man knelt before him on the long stretch of beautiful green marble floor. He bowed his head while still trembling with fear. He knew death had finally come seeking retribution. Death had followed him all the way up to the temple high above the mountains.

Please I beg you. If you still have any love for me, spare his life, she continued. At that point her pleas were becoming a burden.

I can’t, this is the only purpose I live for, he muttered.

He had made up his mind. He was ready to end his life. The old man coughed due to the pain coursing through his body. The heavy blow that he inflicted upon him still pounded with great pain on his chest. He was so fragile now. Many years had passed since they both last met. So many that his hair was now troubled with white. Life had been uneasy with him, it had withered that evil smile he once exposed against the world.

You’re so wrong. He’s a changed man. After all the things he did, he sought penitence and changed his evil ways, she stammered.

Why do you keep lying to yourself? he retorted, struggling to keep moving forward so he could cut him.

The strong icy breeze picked up speed and lashed at them. It tore at them like a thousand swords carving at their soft flesh. Her hair fluttered like a feather and danced before the breeze. It then came down and struck her small delicate face with extreme prejudice.

He could almost feel her pain. She was afraid. She was troubled. The thought of losing her father brought great pain in her heart. After seeing her suffering, he weakened his resolve for a moment and let the doubt sink into his heart.

Why are you so willing to keep him alive? he asked, slowly embracing himself.

She immediately broke down before him and started crying like a mad woman. She had lost herself in thought for a brief moment. She then looked up straight at him. Her eyes then spun backwards into her skull right before she began to speak.

The prophecy, written in the tower of destiny, declares that the man who first holds contempt through power will fall. A warrior will travel far throughout the lands and challenge him. He holds the key, but his hate blinds him since he only seeks vengeance. With his own blade, he will bring back stability to the land. Within his journey of wisdom, he will allot death wishes; these will transcend unto his legacy. Your training should have taught you that you must not seek vengeance. It is not the only answer. Seek the truth within your heart before you make the next move.

She must be possessed, he thought.

She had plunged into him a painful doubt, but she was right. He had traveled far and wide. He had crossed many different lands just to see him die. It was his only wish. It had been his only purpose and now it was being challenged by his emotional and fragile conscience. The man who lay before him in such vulnerable state had become the emperor after so many years of constant turmoil. Throughout his rule he brought much evil, but in his heart he only had one vision, to unite the people.

It was a difficult idea. In exchange for order, many had to die. His father was one of those people. One of whom shed their own blood protecting the sacred lands of Hirushu. Throughout his journey he always remembered what his father had taught him about honor and justice. But in a moment like this, hate had decayed all reason.

"Father, the elders say that we are being invaded. What are we going to do?"

"We will do what we have to do son. Our only purpose is to protect these lands."

"What if we fail? What if we die?"

"Do not worry son. There is glory in death even after failure. Dying for what you believe in is the most honorable death you can have."

He no longer cared for honor or glory. He only desired to kill the man who stole his life when he murdered his only treasure, his father. Back then, he was just a young powerless boy. He stood there frozen by an intense fear when saw the red Samurai armies rush towards his father. Their swords were out in the open, readied to cut. They launched straight at him from all directions and cut him thousands of times before the emperor severed his head.

His father fell, and so did the village. They were all murdered for greed. The lucid memory brought immediate pain into his heart, leaving him distraught. He needed to seek further guidance.

Is this prophecy you talk about, true? he asked. The doubt had already reached his core. It would only be a matter of minutes before his conscience would fail.

The prophecy was written right after the birth of our lands. It is being fulfilled right now. You need to seek deeper, way past the blinds of hate that consume your mind, she muffled. Her hands were still clasped around his legs.

He closed his eyes and followed his heart’s desires. In his deep state of mediation he transported his body’s essence deep into the pits of Mt. Hirosha before Master Wishu.

"What troubles you my son? What brings you to this realm?"

"I am in need of guidance Master. I am before the wicked man who only wrought pain and suffering to my land."

"I see," Master Wishu muttered, contemplating his words.

"With hatred only pain follows and with pain only death is sure, but within death, honor is fulfilled. Before you leave on your journey take this amulet. It will guide you."

He quickly snapped out of his trance and stood still. He looked at his right hand. Inside its grip was the amulet. He turned it around and read the word written on it, Unity. His sword felt heavy so he sheathed it. His knees quivered so he knelt. His Shozoku blurred his vision so he removed it. His heart drew in hatred so he put it aside. His mind wavered so he enhanced it.

It wasn’t until this moment that he finally understood what that word meant. The emperor sought unity within the people. Because of that, he ravaged the symbols that opposed it. The people faltered because they had no leader. Villages lay to waste because there were no laws. The emperor brought hope. He brought law and order.

Everything made sense now. Everything his father had taught him as a small boy finally came to him like a dazzling flash of light. He found himself unable to kill the old man. In his momentary lapse of clarity he forgave him because his father had died an honorable death. He died defending what he believed in.

I had forgotten the importance of that. That was my real purpose, he thought.

He glanced over at Uriko and saw her face consumed with gloom. Her sorrowful stare cast deep into his soul. She had no idea how he felt about her. There was no easy way to describe it.

"Uriko, I have learned