Howlietzer Publishing

Tag: supernatural

  • The Psychic Society Part 1

    Introduction

    Kurt Williamson sat in a dimly lit, white room on a metal folding chair and leaned against a long, folding table opposite a large wall mirror. He stared at his reflection and rubbed the brown stubble on his face and ran his fingers through his now non-regulation cut hair.

    ‘When did I shave last?’ he thought, immediately the answer came to him as, ‘three days ago.‘

    His fingers also slid to his forehead, right above his nose where a diamond cut piece of amethyst was planted and then to his throat where a similarly cut blue lapis was stowed. They were smooth, and Kurt could feel his energy within them. Whatever happened next, he knew all was going according to plan.

    Just like his inevitable capture, just as he sat in that chair, all was divined by his master, and as his final order, he would tell their tale.

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  • The Game

    No one knows who created the game. Maybe it existed when the first cars drove off the lot and onward to their destinations, but whoever it was probably didn’t see this coming or intend for it to happen.

    The game, as Harold Pfinster and his friends called it, was a driving game. On any stretch of road with two lanes, driver A would pull up to driver B in order to drive with him/her, side by side. The fun was to make driver B uncomfortable, so they would, inevitably, slow down or speed up. Driver A, in turn, would keep pace, in order to keep the fun going.

    Harold would argue that he invented the game. No one he knew of mentioned it, and his friends were shocked when he taught them the game. It was fun until one Friday night when he and his three friends went driving late at night looking for something to do. Unfortunately their little town didn’t have any cool hangouts for teens. At age seventeen and an itch to explore the adult nightlife, the group had very few options.

    “We could go walking around Wal-Mart again,” said one of them.

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  • Son of Santa

    Eric, the miracle child of the Claus’s, in the tradition of his father, slung a brown leather sack over his shoulder, pulled on his Elven snow boots and set out to visit his friend Cready in his little cottage in the Elven suburb of Spotted Elephant.

    The North Pole had several Elven suburbs that surrounded Castle Christmas, the home and workshop of Santa Claus, and Spotted Elephant was one of the largest. Cready, Eric’s friend, had left the long tradition of toy making to become a doctor, much like his great uncle Hermy, who went on to become a dentist.

    His family didn’t understand at first, but just as a dentist became necessary, a doctor did as well, as Eric learned all to well on their many great adventures. And many other Elves followed suit, opening shops, boutiques and doing other odds and ends for Santa and all the other citizens of the North Pole.

    Today, on Christmas, however, Eric was visiting Cready for a simple Christmas party. All their intimate friends would be there, since Cready wasn’t fond of large gatherings.

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  • The Witch Doctor Part 4

    Lance invited Paul to his apartment later that week. There was a lot to do. He opened the door to his apartment and surveyed his open living room. The area rug had to go. He didn’t want to ruin it, after tonight… He wasn’t sure just how it was going to turn out.

    The witch doctor had given him an incantation to use, which Lance felt extremely skeptical about. It would suck if he had to go through with the whole ritual and it didn’t work.

    He walked into the room and after setting a brown paper bag on the floor, he pulled the furniture and the rug away, to clear the center of the room. Then he reached into the brown paper bag and pulled out a piece of white chalk.

    It felt dry in his hand, and a shiver ran up his wrist as he stooped to draw a large, white circle on the floor.

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  • The Witch Doctor Part 3

    Lance knew what he wanted; he had been quiet for too long and he didn’t want to go down without a fight. His original plan was to step up during the wedding itself, during the part when the minister asked if anyone had any objections and be all romantic, but as time went on, he knew he couldn’t do that to Paul. He like Paul; Paul was a likable guy.

    Paul did anything he could to put a smile on another’s face; Paul helped other co-workers meet their quota, after he had met his own. He worked hard and did a great job, but he couldn’t be perfect, there had to be a real reason for Lance to take what he wanted.

    Why do you ned a razon? Men ha keeled fo less. Eef she is yo heart’s desire, you should do wat neds to be done… The words of the Witch Doctor turned in Lance’s head like a globe. He told him everything he needed to do get Talia’s heart, but he hesitated. It had been three years of comraderie with Paul Branson and Talia Roberts, hanging out on weekends and going on trips, could he do what he needed to do?

    Lance sat at his desk, in his cubicle staring at the computer screen. He was suppose to be making sales calls to their list of “interested” clients, but most of them forgot they signed up for the service in the first place. Lance leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling. The white tiles seemed to go on forever from inside his cubicle…

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