Spindled Revenge: A Short Story

By J.L. Shojosh

Two immortal, magical beings, Peace (Rayzan) and Chaos (Broza), are in constant battle. This time around, though, the embodiment of peace is defeated and thus has to undergo rebirth, losing his memory in the process. Tucker assumes himself an average, if abnormal teenager, who knows little else than the countryside, where he grew up. Tucker’s journey towards rediscovery begins when he loses control of what he believes are minor psychic abilities, as now, some strange dark and magical figure haunts him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.L. Shojosh
• Release date: Dec 15, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005450816

J.L. Shojosh

I hope to show the universal humanity inherent in all of us. There's more that we as humans have in common with one another than the differences that sometimes pit us against each other. Through stories, I hope to highlight a few of those commonalities. Love conquers all.

Book preview

Prologue

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Ever wondered how you woke up to a pool of your own drool, your cheeks awkwardly pasted to the desk or laptop, or slid down on the sofa with the remote in hand? Better yet, ever woken up from such said short sweet siesta only to find that you were the first to rise within the home, which thence vibrated rhythmically from the intense snoring being had all around? Something magical happens during such short bouts of snoozing, when sleep just seems unavoidable, and with no memory of how your short slumber took hold. Indeed, the sandman is to blame. But the sandman is not a being. It’s an atmosphere, the side effect caused by several machinations. This time, though, the town of Rochester had been visited by the sandman, a lingering atmosphere caused by two sorcerers in mortal battle. What Jim Rain, the only one in his home to wake up didn’t know, as he’d perplexingly stared down at his half filled mug of black coffee, was that everyone within a one mile radius had been put to sleep. The sandman’s spell wore off on him faster than most humans around.

What on earth…? Jim, the overnight worker had muttered under his breath in horror.

It looked to him as though two streaks of lightning struck against one another, in the middle of the narrow street down below. The lanky pale fellow fixed his glasses properly onto his face. Jim intently stared out of his kitchen window, his left arm still gripping the coffee maker’s handle.

The tiny kitchen window was beginning to fog up. Jim’s forehead was pressed against the glass and his breathing got rather animated. Looking closer at the odd phenomenon that had caused the sandman’s spell to linger all around, Jim could make out two figures, embroiled in a swordfight.

Was he losing his mind?

This must be a dream Jim would conclude and back track a couple of steps for a different vantage point.

Meanwhile, down below, beneath the street lights, the bolts of lightning in conflict were indeed two beings in battle, as now, a white cloaked figure had had his sword knocked out of his clasps. The fellow dressed in all white, with white hair sticking out of his neck, like a horse’ mane, had his back now seemingly more erect than before having been slashed away at the knees and made to kneel.

After four millennia of battle, how pathetic that this is how it must end… The man dressed in all black, his face riddled with red spots, had peered down pensively. This dark figure’s lack of whites in his eyes had made him the worst