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I'll be launching a new post-apocalyptic survival series titled "Reverie Creatures" in the next few days. It'll follow the story of one character initially, and eventually involve a few others. It will be a regular series here on the site with no specific planned end point. Each entry will be in "Journal style" and will be a regular thing.
-Chris
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Now that I've had the chance to add some things here, I'd like to take a moment and explain just what I have planned for this site going forward.
There are a number of different stories that I'd like to turn into regular series, that don't really have a planned "end" per se. My hope is to post new parts of those stories on a regular basis, that way it'll keep people interested. And by doing it on a regular basis, it'll kind of force me to keep up with them. I'll also be posting things randomly that I write, that aren't going to be anything more than a "one and done" kind of thing. And of course, all of the paranormal stories will make their way onto here as I go along. Some series may not get as updated as frequently as others (Little Girl Land for example is actually meant to be a novel, and has a planned start, middle, and conclusion.) but they will be continued as I get to them. Hope everyone has been enjoying my writing so far. -Chris  Sometimes the enemy is not the biggest threat to life out here in the slums south of the airport. War is a dangerous environment to be in; even when you take away the insurgency and everything that goes along with it. We all drive, ride, or fly around in over-sized death machines designed to inflict the most damage on the enemy, but those same vehicles can also put the operator and everyone else in danger. We all heard the stories of HMMWV roll overs and how dangerous they can be. We also heard all about how dangerous it can be in the back of a Bradley if it ends up rolling off the edge of a road. The one we haven’t heard about as much though is all the helicopters that have crashed so far in the first year plus of this war.
 Six Hours Previous. The Azbuin Valley. It’s been nearly six days worth of hiking up, down, and through some of the most treacherous mountain sides in the world and finally he reaches his objective. Not only battling the elements, but dodging the Taliban. And putting up with the cold. But that’s what he signed up for, he thought to himself. It was exactly this kind of thing that made it all worth it. The culmination of years of hard work and dedication to be considered one of the very best. Even if it meant having to sit dead still for hours on end in the same position waiting. Which is what he has been doing now. But it was nearly go time and he was prepared. Soon, the mission would be complete, at least his part of it. And he could get the hell out of there and back to the rest of his buddies.
 “Diamondback 3-2, this is Diamondback 1-1 do you copy, over?” the ever familiar crackle of the radio broke the calming silence, as it tended to do, much to the dismay of Chief Conrad. She found herself lost in thoughts once more as she scanned the jagged rocks of the Afghan mountainside looking for potential enemy targets through the viewfinder of her Apache’s weapon system. “Wake up down there, 3-2.” Her partner’s voice came next, as it often did when she drifted. “Diamondback 1-1, this is 3-2, go ahead with your traffic, over.” she replied. “3-2, you are cleared to engage those recoilless rifles, over.” That was all she needed to hear; she could retreat back into her own little world again, back to that place she needed to be at in order to do what she was about to do.
As most of you know, I enjoy writing and often have a few different ideas going on all at once. I often have people ask about some way they can read some of my work, and decided to finally create this site so that I could share what I've created. I've added some things that I've had "lying around" and have also decided to consolidate all of my future works here.
The plan, if you can call it that, is to start posting regular series here, along with whatever else I feel like writing. Be it continuous stories, one offs, poems, rants, etc. If people show more interest in one thing over another, then I'll likely spend more time working on that. Feel free to leave me feedback on anything that you like, dislike, want more of, or anything else you feel like sharing. I've had a few different sites in the past, but only regularly updated one. I'm planning on updating this one here, regardless of how many people are actually reading. It'll kind of force me to focus on the things I've been putting off, project wise. Thanks for visiting! -Chris Oh what great, terrible sound! Loud enough to quake the ground, Ears ringing all around. Quickly sight fades to white,the taste of metal, but that's not right. I feel as though my chest is tight, am I to die on this night? No pain I feel, my life not lost. I'll help my brothers, at all cost. For they I swore to battle on, to always fight. And do what's right. The enemy tried his very best, to bury me with all the rest. But I'm a soldier, through and through, I.E.D's just will not do! We feel the dust, They felt the surf We feel the heat of sun, They felt cold steel surrounding them We fight upon mighty tools of war, They came upon floating deathtraps We fear danger that cannot be seen, They drove straight into its face We hear bombs in the distance, They heard the bullets flying overhead We hunt a phantom, They fought a machine We fight through alleys of dirt, They fought through sandy beaches We feel the pain of loss, And so did they We fight in a struggle of humanity, And so did they We stand by our brothers always, And so did they We are united in arms, And we are one What if this world was nothing more than someones fantasy, a daydream as only they can see. What if all the hate, the love, the hurt, the passion is only a thought, a faint remembrance of things that are not Just as quickly as it begins, it is bound to end. Will you still love, will you still mend the wrongs Will you feel as though you belong? All the things we care for, mean little anymore Could you still love, will you still care? Would it still matter, would you be aware? For even though its only a flicker, and things could not be quicker I look into your eyes and see that you could, To have this moment, as only we should This dream may not be our own, but I have always known It's only a moment, endless as always Through your eyes, we will be shown Alone she sits, separated by an endless boundary So much like others, yet still peerless in her beauty Akin to many, but a beacon all her own Drawn to her radiance, like moth to a flame Her brilliance brings us from afar, enchanted by her fire We are the same, yet are incomparable At first glance, we all burn with passion Some more than others, but none the altered Striving to close the distance, needing to be near To feel her luster, among this ceaseless cold One stands out, at variance with others It sees beyond the allure, deeper past the shimmer It senses the inmost of her presence , the warmth of the heart The truest flicker, as profound as she is exquisite It brings to him something more, something others cannot feel Vitality, purpose, vigor, sparkle and soul Still so similar to the others, yet separated by warmth Together they create essence, and opportunity She brings him life, dependent on her glow He brings her love, dependent only on her own |
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