Some Stories

By Derryworld

A few stories to make you laugh, cry, smile, reflect or wanting more.
Waiting - An anxious wait for a young couple.
Top of the Stairs - A surprise but welcome visitor has an old man reliving his past.
The Storm - Under darkening skies Sarah comes to a liberating decision.
Someone for Everyone - Colin had all but given up hope of ever meeting that someone special. Then he meets Melanie.
Pillow Talk - A late night chat leads to a dark conclusion.
New t.v. - Are men really set in their ways or just tight?
In the Shadow of Killers - A rude awakening leads to a young family fleeing for their lives.
Bedtime Story - One of Granpa's fabulous stories.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Derryworld
• Release date: Nov 15, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310789083

Book preview

‘A story, eh? Mmm. Let me think. Okay, boy. I’ve got a story for you, now tuck down - that’s it - and listen closely...

‘Hrrmmn. I’m going to tell you about The Chosen. That’s a good name and I can see I’ve caught your interest already. Good. Now, The Chosen are what is known as immortals. Have you ever heard of that word before? Immortal means to never die - to live forever, yes? These are very special people, for not only are they immortal but they have powers. Unimaginable powers. Heh, I bet you find that incredible to believe – real life supermen flying about the skies. Oh yes, once upon a time that was how it was, only without the fancy capes. Yep, was a sight to behold…

Anyhow, there are not many of The Chosen left now. Five, I think. Five or six. Dear oh dear – this old noggin is filled with so many memories…so much that don’t need remembering. Let me think…no, there are six. Yep, six who know of the Old Art. My oh my, that’s a God-awful shame. The way of life and death, I suppose, but ‘tis a shame none-the-less. Hmm, mind you my boy, if there were to be more of them creating mischief on this cramped planet then I dare say it would be the mortals who’d be bordering on extinction now. It’s a terrible thing to say, but if you see an ant scurrying across ya dinner table then ya just as well to squish it then as to help it along its way. And back in them days mortals meant no more to us than insects, and that’s no lie. Dear ole’ me, that sounds wicked but it’s just as likely no truer words were ever voiced.

‘Mmm, now don’t go interrupting me boy. Yes, I did say ‘us’ – I’m not such an old fool as to start forgetting my words just yet. Us.

‘Now, as I said, we are only a few. Centuries of mindless, petty battles and a deep, hurtin’ need to escape boredom has culled our numbers down to this pathetic handful. Hmm, perhaps that is for the best, but I can’t help thinking - ahh, yes, I see that look on your face, lad. Always the critic, eh? Trying to find loopholes, no doubt. Yes, well, even though I said an immortal cannot die, I should’ve said an immortal can be taken. I know that sounds contradictive…I know, I know, dontcha go giving me that sideways look, I ain’t no fool here. There are two ways an immortal can be taken - by the hand of another, or…or by self-infliction. Suicide, you might say. Yup, now I see – you’re asking yourself why any immortal should want and take their own life, and that’s not such a feeble question. But I shall get to that all in good time, lad, all in good time. Now…yes, an immortal could be taken by one of their own – and this happened more than ya would think. At one time it seemed that just about everyone was spoiling for someone, and a lot of innocents and good people are gone from this world for no reason other than stir craziness. Well, anyway…what I’m telling ya is we didn’t use regular weapons, not the toys or methods you might see today on your dee-vee-dee contraption. Nope, an immortal couldn’t be harmed by any gun spittin’ bullets or a knife thrust between the ribs. You couldn’t strangle them with your bare hands or expect a Chosen to stay down after running ‘em over in your luxury 4x4. No, lad. I’m talking about incredibly strong magic being consumed by even stronger magic: the power to lift trees with their roots tearing from the ground, the power to part waves and walk on the seabed, and the power to shake the land until it cracks open and buildings topple. That’s what each of us possessed. Can you imagine it? Now come on, don’t look at me like that again, I s’pose you’re thinking we twitched our noses and made each other disappear in a puff of smoke. Well I’m telling you, that horseshit’s purely for the TV and don’t you dare tell ya mother I said that. No…no, lad, real magic used against itself is a very dangerous thing indeed. The outcome could be and usually was devastating.

‘Now you must understand; back when we walked freely amid the mortals and it seemed that every Chosen was against each other, you’d have to protect yourself constantly against attacks. Terrible, you see, all the power in the world and some – most – still wanted more. Wanted to kill – to take life instead of save it. And the simple reason is we’re all flesh and blood. Some might not have liked it, but ultimately all immortals are only flesh and blood. Animals with animal instincts. No more than monsters with power.

‘But I’m not gonna dwell on that, lad. Most of the monsters have been gone a long time; best leave them in the past, where they belong. What I will say is that we had to protect ourselves from these attacks, and that in itself wasn’t easy. Protecting against magic required powerful shield concentration, concentration that drained you to the very core. Huh, that’s another thing you don’t learn from your films: no matter what you do, whether it’s lifting a pin in the air or transportin’ yourself across the country, you have to be concentrating real hard the whole time the power’s working. One slip of a thought and the pin would drop, a hiccup in your focus and you’d apt to find yourself materializing in a wall. It was that dependant, that consuming. And it could be so tiring - not physically but mentally. A tiredness that eats you to the bone. You don’t believe me, eh? No, maybe ya don’t, but I’ll tell ya something that you’ll find even more incredible to believe, for the survivors of that dark time had a far greater battle to overcome. Boredom. Pure and simple boredom. Can you imagine living for hundreds of years, possessing the ability to do anything, have anything you want in the blink of an eye? Huh, stupid old fool, of course you can’t. That’s a feeble question to ask a child. To your young ears, I bet a pound to a pinch of salt it sounds amazing, too good to be true. Owning anything you want, doing anything you want. Yes, I can understand the attraction I see in your eyes. I was like that once – we all were. But believe me it all fades. A Chosen can see the whole world before the sun rises, experience tastes and smells of every conceivable food you can think of without the need to eat it. Swim with sea-monsters miles below the ocean that are yet unknown to mortal man. Love and lose a dozen wives and countless children, knowing the hurtin’ will never get any easier. And to do all this in the infancy – damn – in the conception of your life. What does it leave, mmm? We are bound by the limitations of this planet, when that’s used up, what is left? Possessions? They’re not worth doodley-squat when you can come by them so easy. Having the biggest and the best…it’s like cherishing a grain of sand when you live in the desert. It’s nothin’; nothing unless it is a challenge to obtain. And what of experiences? Is it right to still call them that when you possess the ability to do them over and over again. No, experiences become routine. Huh, I know I sound bitter, lad, and I suppose I am. But that’s what a lot of our kind felt. It sounds incredible to believe that a fair few chose to take their own lives, but take their own lives they did. No-one knows what death entails, and that unknowing…well, try and understand, lad;