Thirteen Goblins

By Red Jackson

Short stories and poems about goblins. Exploring the human condition and how it relates to these mythical characters. Thirteen Goblins is a work that is appropriate for adult audiences.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Red Jackson
• Release date: Dec 7, 2012
• ISBN: 9780988049901

Red Jackson

I love to read the works of Poe and Shakespeare. I like to read the Bible as well as Science fact or fiction. My favorite genre is epic fantasy. I currently write articles about emergency pre-hospital medicine. I write short stories for family and friends. I enjoy spending time with my wife and children. My goal is to spend more time outdoors than indoors and more time at play than at work. My secret hobby is the practice of martial arts.

Book preview

Thirteen Goblins

by Red Jackson

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Copyright 2012 Red Jackson

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Smashwords Edition

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This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment. It is offered free of charge. If you enjoy this book please encourage others to download it as well.

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Contents

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Goblins

Graces

Gnaw

Good Dads

Graven

Gypsies

Galley

'gangers

Ghouls

Grinnin'

Gauntlet

Goners

Glaze

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Goblins

by Red Jackson

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We didn't know. We just didn't think. I guess this was the sort of thing that was bound to happen when a bunch of friends, who have access to unlimited resources and nonstop funding, decided to cut loose. Our intentions were nothing but honorable and endowed with a sense of charity. It was an endeavor that we all thought we could be proud of. Others might have felt that we were squandering our riches, that we were being wasteful, but we felt that we were going to make magic, that we were doing some powerful good. The idea evolved from scraps of fantasies that were passed around at many a drunken soiree. No single one of us could claim ownership of the idea. There was an unanimous decision to proceed with our plan. Looking back, I would have thought that someone should have seen the fatal flaw. Perhaps we were all blinded by the magic, by our pride, or by the simple exitement of the adventure. How could a group of otherwise intelligent people display such a gross ignorance?

Now, my eyes are dry, devoid of tears. I thought that maybe I should cry. I could mourn for those who were harmed. I could cry for my own ignorance and utter embarassment. However, logic tells me that I cannot go back and fix anything. What happened has happened and it cannot be changed. I must continue with my guilt and my humility and my new found knowledge. I must try to learn what I can from the foolish disaster that we engineered. Well, enough of me, wallowing in my selfish sorrow. Here is the story of the night we raised havoc.

The fateful night was exactly one year after we earnestly began our project. Our group of friends shared a certain love for Halloween. As strange as it might sound, we all regarded Halloween as our favorite holiday. I believe that none of us could ever let go of the juvenile mischief of our favorite holiday. It was the next day, All Saints Day, that we began the construction.

We decided to build a large Zeppelin. We would never refer to it as a blimp. Some of us developed an obsession with our Zeppelin and we were sensitive about such trivial things as whether you called it a Zeppelin or a blimp. I'm not sure if the music of Led Zeppelin had anything to do with our decision to build the Zeppelin, or not, but most of us were listening to Stairway to Heaven that year.

It was a no expense spared project. We had plenty of time towards the end of winter to make test flights with our Zeppelin. The test flights took place regularly all through the spring and only ceased when the warm summer weather made our flights a little uncomfortable. We resumed the test flights in September and the whole group started to develop a certain anxiety in anticipation of the coming Halloween. We did test flights during the night. We checked our equipment and made every preparation we could think of. We took the Zeppelin to different altitudes and we took turns piloting the aircraft. It was an entire year of being in love. Most of us were in love with the technology and the rest were in love with the plan. It was amazing how much energy we had invested in this common goal.

Everyone was involved and on that terrible night we were all there and we all participated to the fullest. Early, on the morning of Halloween we made last minute preparations to the Zeppelin. We packed our precious cargo and we prayed for a calm night to conduct our flight. There were thirteen of us, split almost equally male and female. We wore identical Halloween costumes. Seven women and six men, grown adults, all dressed in goblin costumes. It was even difficult, except in a couple of cases, to tell the men from the women. With our costumes on we lost our individuality. We became just parts of a greater whole. Everyone knew the plan and each of us revelled in it. We functioned flawlessly like a finely tuned machine. There was, however, a certain giddiness and euphoria connected to what we were about to do.

I remember, the night was cold, not cool, like some Halloweens, but down right cold. I could feel the cold moisture running down my face as my breath condensed inside my goblin mask. The air was frigid and there was not a breath of wind. It was eerie, as if our prayers were answered, but by the wrong diety. We would be able to pilot the Zeppelin easily and fly however we wanted under the power of the Zeppelin itself. My body was seized by a sudden fit of shivering, so I stamped my feet and clapped my hands to try to keep the cold at bay, for it was the cold that made me shiver.

We were off the ground. The lights of the towns and farmyards below us appeared as orange Christmas lights arranged perfectly on the dark earth below. The patch work of the fields disintegrated into darkness and the