Good Intentions

By Aaron Abilene

The yellow brick road was pathed with good intentions until it was found by a psychopath who left a trail of bloody footprints behind.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Syphon Creative
• Release date: Apr 29, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224956975

Book preview

Good Intentions

Aaron Abilene

Published by Syphon Creative, 2024.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

GOOD INTENTIONS

First edition. April 29, 2024.

Copyright © 2024 Aaron Abilene.

Written by Aaron Abilene.

Also by Aaron Abilene

505

505: Resurrection

Balls

Dead Awake (Coming Soon)

Before The Dead Awake (Coming Soon)

Carnival Game

Full Moon Howl

Donovan

Shades of Z

Deadeye

Deadeye & Friends

Cowboys Vs Aliens

Ferris

Life in Prescott (Coming Soon)

Afterlife in Love (Coming Soon)

Island

Paradise Island

The Lost Island

The Lost Island 2

The Lost Island 3

The Island 2

Pandemic

Pandemic (Coming Soon)

Prototype

Prototype

The Compound

Slacker

Slacker 2

Slacker: Dead Man Walkin'

Texas

A Vampire in Texas

The Author

Breaking Wind

Yellow Snow

Dragon Snatch

Thomas

Quarantine

Contagion

Eradication

Isolation

Immune

Pathogen

Bloodline (Coming Soon)

Decontaminated (Coming Soon)

Virus

Raising Hell

Zombie Bride

Zombie Bride

Zombie Bride 2

Zombie Bride 3

Standalone

The Victims of Pinocchio

A Christmas Nightmare

Pain

Fat Jesus

A Zombie's Revenge

505

The Headhunter

Crash

Tranq

The Island

Dog

The Quiet Man

Joe Superhero

Feral

Good Guys

Devil Child of Texas

Romeo and Juliet and Zombies

The Gamer

Becoming Alpha

Dead West

Small Town Blues

Shades of Z: Redux

The Gift of Death

Killer Claus

Skarred

Home Sweet Home

Alligator Allan

10 Days

Army of The Dumbest Dead

Kid

The Cult of Stupid

9 Time Felon

Slater

Bad Review: Hannah Dies

Me Again

Maurice and Me

The Family Business

Lightning Rider : Better Days

Lazy Boyz

The Sheep

Wild

The Flood

Extinction

Good Intentions

Sparkles The Vampire Clown

From The Future, Stuck in The Past (Coming Soon)

Honest John (Coming Soon)

She's Psycho (Coming Soon)

Vicious Cycle (Coming Soon)

Romeo and Juliet: True Love Conquers All (Coming Soon)

Hunting Sarah (Coming Soon)

Random Acts of Stupidity (Coming Soon)

Born Killer (Coming Soon)

The Abducted (Coming Soon)

Broken Man (Coming Soon)

Graham Hiney (Coming Soon)

Paper Soldiers (Coming Soon)

Zartan (Coming Soon)

The Firsts in Life (Coming Soon)

Giant Baby (Coming Soon)

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Also By Aaron Abilene

Good Intentions

Sign up for Aaron Abilene's Mailing List

Also By Aaron Abilene

Good Intentions

Written by Aaron Abilene

Dorothy's eyelids fluttered open, and she drew in a sharp breath as the world spun—a carousel of color and light. With a hand to her head, she steadied herself against the soft ground that seemed to pulse beneath her like the gentle heave of a breathing beast. The air was heavy with the scent of something sweet and unnameable, tinged with the metallic tang of ozone left in the wake of the tornado.

Definitely not Kansas, she murmured, pushing herself up to a sitting position.

The sky above was a canvas painted in surreal strokes, a deeper blue than any she had seen back on the farm, where horizons were bordered by cornfields, not this... endless expanse of alien beauty. She stood shakily, her farmhouse boots sinking slightly into the verdant moss that carpeted the earth. It was then that Dorothy noticed the complete absence of gray—the drab palette of her former home utterly obliterated by the riot of colors that now assaulted her senses.

Each step she took was tentative at first, as if the land might disappear beneath her feet. But with each assured footfall, her sense of wonder grew. Trees unlike any she'd ever known twisted towards the sky, their bark shimmering with iridescent hues that danced between shades as she moved. Flowers bloomed in impossible shapes, petals unfurling like the wings of butterflies, releasing flurries of luminescent spores that drifted lazily on the gentle breeze.

Is this all some kind of dream? she whispered to herself, yet half-expecting an answer from the strange world itself.

A brook babbled nearby, its waters clear but for the swirls of color that eddied within—a liquid rainbow that beckoned. Dorothy knelt beside it, touching the surface tentatively. It was cool and real under her fingertips, sending ripples that warped her reflection into a visage of awe-struck curiosity.

Oz... The word slipped out, a realization dawning bright as the twin suns that hung in the sky—one a brilliant gold, the other a soft rose hue. The tales her Aunt Em had dismissed as fanciful bedtime stories to coax her into dreams, they were real, more vivid and visceral than any storybook could capture.

With a deep breath, Dorothy straightened her gingham dress and squared her shoulders. This was no time for idle amazement; the same determination that had seen her through dust storms and drought steeled her resolve. She would explore this place, this Oz, and find her way—whether it be back to the sepia tones of Kansas or forward into the unknown that awaited.

Let's see what you're hiding, she declared, a spark igniting within her chest—an ember of adventure that no cyclone could ever quell. As she stepped forward, the path before her seemed to unfurl like a ribbon, inviting her deeper into the heart of this fantastical land. Her journey had just begun.

The vibrant trail twisted before Dorothy, leading her through the iridescent foliage that rustled with whispers of unseen creatures. Each step took her further away from the familiar, and closer to the heart of enchantment that was Oz. Yet, as she ventured on, a sudden chill crept up her spine—an intangible breath that murmured warnings against the back of her neck.

From the embroidered shadows of the trees emerged a cadre of diminutive beings, no taller than Dorothy's waist. Their faces were pinched with worry, eyes wide and darting like skittish deer. They wore peculiar garb, a motley of colors that seemed dulled beneath an invisible pall. These were the Munchkins, and their appearance was as sudden as it was silent.

Child, one whispered, voice quivering like the last leaf of autumn clinging to its branch. Beware the darkness that clings to the light.

Darkness? Dorothy echoed, her brow furrowing in confusion. The suns above bathed everything in a warm glow; what darkness could they mean?

Another Munchkin stepped forward, wringing his hands. It lurks and leers, a malaise that mars our merriment, he said. His gaze flickered to the others, seeking solace in their shared apprehension.

Tell me about this... force, Dorothy implored, feeling the weight of their dread settle upon her own shoulders. She remembered the tales of witches and wonders, but those stories had never hinted at a lurking terror.

Shadows within shadows, a Munchkin woman murmured, as if reciting a verse of cautionary lore. It feeds and grows, unseen yet ever-present, a night unending.

Seek ye the Wizard, another interjected, his voice firm despite the tremor that ran through it. The great and powerful in the Emerald City. Only he can illuminate the path through the perilous dark.

Dorothy nodded, a solemn resolve hardening her features. If there was wisdom to be found, guidance to be sought, then she would find this Wizard. Whatever shrouded this beautiful land in fear, she felt a burgeoning need to face it, to understand it—perhaps, even to banish it.

Will you lead me to this city? she asked, her tone steady, betraying none of the trepidation that gnawed at the edges of her heart.

The Munchkins exchanged glances, their expressions mingling reluctance with duty. Finally, one stepped forth, a gesture indicating the winding road ahead.

Follow the Yellow Brick Road, he intoned, his voice laced with gravity. It is fraught with perils, but it leads to the city of emerald walls. Go with the blessing of the Munchkins, and may the light guide your steps, Dorothy of Kansas.

With that, the Munchkins melted back into the foliage, leaving Dorothy alone once more on the path. She gazed down the Yellow Brick Road, knowing now that her journey had truly begun—a quest not just for home, but for the heart of this mysterious darkness threatening the wonder of Oz.

Dorothy's hand fell to the cold, gleaming surface of the yellow bricks, fingers tracing the gritty mortar between them. Beneath her palm, she could almost feel the pulse of Oz—a rhythm discordant with the shadows that whispered of malevolence. Her mind replayed the image of the lifeless legs, striped stockings crumpling beneath the fallen house, and the hushed warnings of the Munchkins.

Evil has taken root in the very soil, they had said, and spreads its tendrils unseen.

With a deep, steadying breath, Dorothy rose. The memory solidified her resolve like iron cooling in water—rigid, unyielding. She wouldn't, couldn't, turn a blind eye to the murder that marred this land's beauty, nor to the terror that gripped its smallest inhabitants.

Emerald City, she whispered, the name an incantation to summon her courage. The Wizard would have answers; she was sure of it. And so, with the weight of purpose set upon her shoulders, Dorothy stepped forward on the Yellow Brick Road, her determination leaving no room for doubts to take root.

As the vibrant hues of her surroundings gave way to a canopy of twisted branches overhead, the atmosphere shifted. A chilling breeze danced across her neck, carrying with it the faintest echo of malice. Shadows stretched longer with each step she took, as if reaching for her with sable fingers. The air grew denser, heavier, as though charged with an impending storm.

Without warning, a cacophony of guttural growls ruptured the silence, and from the gnarled underbrush emerged creatures as dark as the thoughts they provoked. Eyes glinting like shards of obsidian, they encircled Dorothy, their forms a grotesque parody of life—twisted limbs and snarling maws.

Find another path, they seemed to hiss, their presence an embodiment of the warnings she'd received.

But Dorothy clenched her fists, heart pounding like a drumbeat against her chest. She couldn't afford to be paralyzed by fear, not when the truth lay cloaked in the shadows ahead. With every ounce of bravery she possessed, she held their gaze, refusing to cower before these guardians of the dark.

Let me pass, she demanded, her voice betraying none of the tremors that shook her frame. I seek audience with the Wizard, and I will not be deterred.

The creatures hesitated, as if taken aback by her audacity. Sensing a sliver of opportunity amidst the peril, Dorothy seized the moment. She darted forward, nimble steps carrying her past snapping jaws and clawing hands. The road seemed to buckle and twist beneath her feet, but she did not falter. Her eyes remained fixed on the shimmering promise of emerald far in the distance.

With heart racing and breath coming in ragged gasps, Dorothy broke free from the circle of darkness, leaving the growls and snarls to fade behind her. Ahead, the Yellow Brick Road unfurled, undeterred by the encounter—an unbroken line leading ever onward to the heart of Oz and the answers she sought so desperately.

Dorothy's boots skidded on loose stones as she raced down the Yellow Brick Road, her breaths coming in short, sharp bursts. She could hear the creatures behind her, their pursuit relentless. But ahead, the road was fraught with its own dangers—a myriad of thorns that sprung from the ground like sinister hands, reaching for her.

Refusing to succumb to panic, Dorothy scanned her surroundings. There! A thick vine hung from a nearby tree, swaying almost imperceptibly in the gloom. With a leap born of necessity, she grabbed hold of it and swung herself over the prickly barrier. The thorns snapped at her heels, missing by mere inches.

As she landed, she felt the ground give way beneath her. Instinctively, she rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding a hidden pit that yawned open like a giant's maw. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she clamored to her feet, each obstacle conquered fueling her resolve.

But then she saw it—an obsidian shard, half-buried in the earth near the edge of the path. It was out of place amidst the vibrant hues of Oz, its surface etched with runes that seemed to writhe in the dimming light. Dorothy crouched beside it, heart still hammering from the chase, and brushed away the dirt.

The markings were unlike anything she'd seen, yet they emanated an aura of malevolence that resonated with the warnings of the Munchkins. She traced a finger over the cold stone, and a shiver ran up her spine. This was no ordinary piece of debris; it was a sign, a beacon that whispered of the darkness that stalked these lands.

Slipping the shard into her pocket, Dorothy cast a wary glance over her shoulder. The creatures had fallen back, but for how long? She couldn't know. What she did know was that this clue was a tangible link to the enigma she faced—a puzzle piece in the grim tapestry of Oz's corrupted magic.

With renewed purpose, she set off along the winding road. The Emerald City beckoned in the distance, its towers a silent testament to the knowledge that lay within. And Dorothy understood, with crystal clarity, that every step brought her closer to the heart of the darkness—and to the Wizard who might just hold the key to unraveling it all.

The road beneath Dorothy's feet seemed to pulse with a life of its own, each brick a heartbeat urging her forward. But as the twin moons of Oz began their ascent, casting long, twisted shadows across her path, her steps faltered. She clutched the shard in her pocket, its presence both a comfort and a curse.

Am I truly ready for this? she whispered to the night, her voice barely audible above the chorus of unsettling sounds that emanated from the dark forests flanking the road. What if I'm walking into a trap?

A gust of wind swept through the trees, carrying with it a symphony of whispers that could have been voices—or merely leaves brushing against one another. Dorothy shivered, feeling the weight of solitude bearing down on her slender shoulders.

Protect the innocent, she murmured, recalling the Munchkins' imploring eyes. Yet, what could she—a girl far from home with naught but a dog and a basket—do against a malevolence that made even the bravest of them cower?

Perhaps I should turn back, she thought, her resolve wavering like a candle flame in a tempest. The Emerald City shimmered in the distance, an emerald promise wrapped in uncertainty.

As she stood at the crossroads of doubt, a soft rustling emerged from the underbrush. Toto barked sharply, ears perked, body tense. Dorothy's hand flew to the meager pocketknife she'd found earlier, her heart thundering.

Who goes there? she demanded, though her voice trembled.

Peace, child, came a gentle reply, and from the shadows stepped a figure draped in moonlight. It was a woman, or something akin to one, with skin that glowed softly and eyes that held the wisdom of ages. She was ethereal, otherworldly, and exuded an air of serene authority.

Forgive my sudden appearance, the creature said, her voice soothing like a lullaby. I am Glinda, and I've been watching your progress with great interest.

Glinda? Dorothy echoed, her grip on the knife loosening. The name felt familiar, a whisper of legends heard long ago.

Yes, dear one. Glinda smiled, extending a hand that shimmered with subtle magic. And I know of the burden you carry. The mark upon that stone you found is an ancient sigil—one that has brought much strife to our lands.

Can you tell me more? Dorothy asked eagerly, her fear momentarily forgotten in the face of hope.

Only that the Wizard holds many secrets, and some may help you understand the force you seek to unmask, Glinda confided, her gaze piercing the veil of night that surrounded them. But be wary, for the path you tread is fraught with peril beyond mere beasts and brambles.

Then how...? Dorothy started, but Glinda raised a hand to forestall her questions.

Trust in yourself, Dorothy. Your heart is pure, your courage true. And remember, she added, her form beginning to fade like mist at dawn, not all who wander are lost, nor all who linger are found.

With those enigmatic words hanging in the air, Glinda vanished, leaving Dorothy alone once again. But her hesitation had ebbed away, replaced by a sense of determination that fortified her spirit.

Come, Toto, she said firmly, setting her jaw and squaring her shoulders. We've got a Wizard to find.

And with Toto at her heels, Dorothy set off down the yellow brick road, guided by the light of the moons and the conviction that burned within her brave young heart.

The yellow brick road unfurled before Dorothy like a serpentine ribbon, disappearing into the lush verdancy of the haunted forest. Her heart thumped against her chest, echoing the ever-present thrum of Oz's dark undercurrents. Toto trotted beside her, his small form tense, ears perked for any sign of danger.

Suddenly, the wind howled, a mournful cry that twisted the leaves into frenzied dancers. Shadows coalesced between the trees, weaving together into a tangible darkness that pulsed with malevolent intent. Dorothy's breath caught in her throat as the air grew thick with an ominous chill that no sun could dispel.

Stay close, Toto, she whispered, clutching the dog to her side. She could feel it—the malicious force Glinda had warned her about, drawing near, hungering for the light within her soul.

A low growl rumbled from the shadows, and a dozen eyes, like burning coals, ignited within the dark. The forest seemed to hold its breath, anticipating the confrontation. Dorothy's hand sought the sigil at her neck, the one tied to the mystery of her journey. Its surface was cold, yet it seemed to pulse in time with her racing heartbeat.

In an instant, the eyes lunged forward, revealing creatures forged from nightmares, their bodies twisted, a grotesque parody of life. They snarled, snapping jaws bristling with jagged teeth as they encircled her.

Dorothy's mind raced. Fight was futile; flight, her only chance. Summoning every ounce of courage, she darted down an offshoot of the road. Branches clawed at her, but she pushed through, driven by the terror nipping at her heels. Behind her, the creatures gave chase, their howls shredding the night.

She stumbled over a gnarled root, nearly falling prey to the darkness, but adrenaline spurred her onward. Then, just as suddenly as it began, the path cleared, and the creatures halted at the boundary, a line they could not or would not cross.

Gasping for air, Dorothy dared to glance back. The monsters seethed at the edge of the clearing, but they did not advance. A barrier unseen protected her, but for how long? With trembling hands, she soothed Toto, who whimpered softly, both grateful for the reprieve.

Come on, boy, she urged, voice barely above a whisper. We can't stop now.

As they ventured forth, the atmosphere shifted, the sense of menace receding with each step away from the cursed forest. And there, cresting the horizon, stood a sight that reignited the spark of hope within her chest—a glimmering spire, radiant even against the backdrop of a stormy sky.

The Emerald City.

Its towering silhouette promised answers and sanctuary, beckoning her with the promise of the Wizard's wisdom. Dorothy felt a surge of relief wash over her. The milestone she'd reached wasn't just a landmark—it was a beacon in the oppressive darkness of Oz.

Look, Toto, she said, her voice steadier now as she pointed towards the city's shimmering outline. We're on the right path.

With newfound resolve, Dorothy tightened the straps of her worn shoes and set her sights on the Emerald City. Each step forward was a defiance of the shadows that sought to claim her, a testament to her unwavering determination to unearth the truth and protect the innocent souls of this bewitched land.

The chapter closed, leaving Dorothy silhouetted against the vast, perilous world of Oz, a solitary figure of bravery undeterred by the darkness, her journey far from over, yet closer than ever to the heart of the enigma that shrouded the realm in fear.

Dorothy's foot caught on something unexpectedly solid, and she stumbled forward with a startled gasp. Her hands shot out to break her fall, but instead of the expected roughness of the yellow brick road, they met with something chillingly soft and unnervingly still. Recoiling in horror, she scrambled back and her eyes took in the grim sight before her.

A Munchkin lay sprawled across the bricks, his once vibrant blue attire now a dark canvas for the stark crimson that seeped into the golden path. The blood painted an incongruous streak across the yellow stones, macabre in its contrast to the cheery brightness of Oz.

Dorothy's breath hitched, throat tightening as if strangled by the very shadows that seemed to gather around the lifeless figure. Her pulse thundered loud in her ears, each beat a deafening drum that mirrored the throbbing terror swelling within her chest. She clasped her hands to her mouth, muffling the scream that threatened to tear from her lips.

The world spun, a kaleidoscope of fear and shock, as she tried to make sense of the scene. This was a land of wonder, of talking lions and sentient scarecrows, not death and bloodshed. Yet here it was, undeniable and jarring against the backdrop of what should have been an enchanting journey.

Dorothy forced herself to look again, to confront the reality that pressed cold fingers into her heart. The Munchkin's eyes stared upwards, glassy and vacant, reflecting none of the joy they must have once held.