Enough

Enough

by Robert J. S. T. McCartney

I’ve had it up to here,
There’s nothing left of me: no note, no tear.

I’m choosing to end it all,
By drawing a line, up and down these walls.

I’ve screamed and shouted, but nothing comes back to me,
This is the evidence that I’m not to meant to be.

I’ve had enough.
I had everything I could have ever wanted in life.

I’ve had enough.
A home, family, friends, and all that I could ever ask.

I’ve had enough.
The talk of the demons within,
They reassure me my life’s sin.

I’ve had enough.
I’m tired of it all.
I wasn’t strong enough.
I couldn’t stand above it all.

I’ve had enough.
I’m through with this life.
I’m done trying to be tough.
I’ll end it all with this knife.

So here I go getting everything ready,
I can’t lie it’s really scary.
But I know it’ll only hurt a little bit,
Before I know it I’ll be out of it.
I’m leaving it all behind,
Everything and everyone this is my suicide!

You said, I was a failure,
That I had no place in this world.
You said, I was a traitor,
That I was nothing and undeserved.

So I’ve had enough,
From you and all those who cast me aside.
I’m done, not to be gruff,
But I’m done trying to please all of you and abide.

Don’t revive me,
This is how it has to be.
I won’t survive,
So this is my final goodbye.

I have had enough.

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Coming This Fall—November to be Precise

Hey, folks.

So, we’re not doing a cover reveal yet…but The Chronicles of Bob: The Chronic Suicidal is finished.

I wanted to share an excerpt from our beloved suicidalist on one of his many escapades. In addition, here are some other points to address.Paperback may be the only print format available—at first. If anything, there would just be a limited amount of hardcovers, which would include a little something extra about Bob. If you like the story and how it goes, trust me, it’s something you’ll love.

Format: Paperback may be the only print format available—at first. If anything, there would just be a limited amount of hardcovers, which would include a little something extra about Bob. If you like the story and how it goes, trust me, it’s something you’ll love. As always, if you buy a print copy, you get a digital copy for free with us (and Amazon).

Pricing: $3 flat. It could be less or it could be about the same. The chances are high that it’ll just be $3 flat.

Cover: It’s gonna be sexy. At least in our eyes.

Surprise! If you want a digital version of Lilah’s Guide to Hoyle for free, just go to the store, set out to buy it, and enter in the coupon LILAHFREE. Boom. Done. You can then download it as many times as you want…or even gift it.

You can also nab The Lodestone Files: The Things in the Shadows and Abnormal Side Effects for free too.

Anywho, without further ado… Here’s a brief excerpt from The Chronicles of Bob: The Chronic Suicidal.


Episode One: The Chronic Suicidal

Have you ever had those moments where you’re sitting there (or hell, driving) and just thinking, “Man, I could totally kill myself right now.” Or maybe—and work with me here—you’re sitting at the dinner table with your family. You know, your spouse, perhaps your parents, kids, siblings, whatever. Then the moment you break bread you’re just like, “Fuck it!” You slam your palms down (or fists, or do a table flip, I don’t fucking know), grab that steak knife, and . . . slit. You know? Slit your own throat? Literally. Right there. At the dinner table. You got blood spraying, gushing out, dripping down your clothes, all over the furniture, the walls, the fine China, the mashed potatoes, on your folks, in your kid’s eye.

Well, if you’ve ever had moments like these, where you’re compelled to do the unthinkable, you’re not alone. Hell, I do it all the time. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Bob Barnen, and I am a chronic suicidal.

Christ, it sounds like I’m at some AA meeting, or in the confessional or something. Yeah, well, I’m not. The truth is, I dunno where I am. I mean, I do, I just don’t know where exactly I am. I guess I could be dead, dreaming, in a coma. I tried asking others: my wife, my kids, my folks, my friends—hell, even my dog! No one has a goddamn clue what the hell is going on. What I do know is this: every time I commit suicide, I’m put right back in bed, safe and cozy.

I guess I could start by telling you about the first time I had the impulse, and why I did what I did.

Now, lemme tell ya, I had no regrets. Not even a letter. I loved my family, an’ hell, I still do. It wasn’t their fault that I wanted to end it. I was just done. Just done with life. I couldn’t handle the stress of a transfer out of state, of meeting people who were culturally different, and honestly, of not knowing a single goddamn person. I mean sure, the pay was good, yeah, but what good is the pay when you bust your balls and ask all the boys at the cooler—“Hey, Pete, Bill, Shaun, guy—to get a drink after work and don’t get a single goddamn word in reply? Instead, they give you this look like, who the fuck are you? Oh, it’s the new guy! Bah, fuck ’em. I’ll tell you what, those sons of bitches who say that they’re there “if you need help,” or some “reasonable accommodation,” or their “door is always open,” they’re lying sons of bitches. They don’t care about you. They don’t care about no one except their own goddamn selves and their fat fucking wallets.

I do apologize, I seemed to have run off there.

So here’s the deal: job transfer out of state. I’m a desk jockey at a firm that deals the stock market. Been married for thirteen years, four kids. I have a nice house, decent pay, fucked-up neighbors. I got a car, dog, and some cats. What’s there to be wrong? Probably absolutely nothing, and I get that. What happened was pretty simple. I jumped. I jumped right off the roof of the office building right smack onto the cars and curb below. I say “and curb” because I think—I’m pretty sure at least—that my feet snapped on it and shattered. I dunno. I can’t say I remember anything other than a giant forceful knockout that, well, knocked the shit out of me.

You might be asking, “What were your final thoughts?” Well, for starters: “Oh shit, oh shit, bad idea, bad idea.” Followed by, “I’m flying!” Then, “Holy shit the ground is coming up fast.” Next, “Why am I doing this? Who’s going to take care of the kids, and my wife? What the hell am I doing?” And then, some guilt, anger, sadness, love, happiness. Finally, nothing. Pow! Lights out.

Now, hindsight being twenty-twenty, yeah, it was pretty fucking stupid. Do I regret it? Yes and no. Yes, because I was dumb to leave my family alone in this fucked-up world. And no because, well, I can’t die. OK, I can die, but I can’t die. I’m like Bill fucking Murray in an extreme, uncensored version of Groundhog Day, but it’s been going on now for . . . fuck if I know. Either way, nothings working, and truth be told, I’ve started to actually enjoy it. If this is how I get to spend the rest of my days, so be it, I guess. I get to see my wife, my kids; that’s good enough for me. Still, I can’t shake the thought of there being more to this. For now, I’ll just get dressed.

By the way, if you haven’t figured it out yet—I recently killed myself at the dinner table.

—END EXCERPT—


So there you have it, folks. I hope you enjoyed this sampling of Bob’s meaty loins.

Until next time,

— RJM and Friends

What’s Coming and What’s Up

Hey, folks.

It’s been a little while, hasn’t it? When life happens, you learn to adapt. There’s a lot going but it’s all for the greater good.

So, what’s to share?

We’re wrapping up production on The Chronicles of Bob: The Chronic Suicidal.

Meanwhile, the multipart conclusion of Johnny Nightwalker will be coming up this evening.

Part three of The Lodestone Files is being worked on, along with many other projects.

You can also check out books one and two of the series in the shop.

So, as for the delay in things…

It’s also a good idea to take a break, look over things, then get back at it, because let’s face it; nothing ever gets done on its own.

Keep at what you do and make sure YOU love what you do. Especially, when it comes to writing. I know and am aware not many folks give a damn what I do or write, but that’s OK. I write for me. An audience of one, is better than an audience of none.

I’ll bee posting intermittently over the next few years as well. There are certain things in motion that need to happen. I’ll still be writing… just not posting as much (not like I do, right? Life. In all its wondrous glory!).

Do stick around for more things to come. I wish you all well and to stay safe.

Until next time,

RJM

One More Light

One More Light

by Robert J. S. T. McCartney

It happened again. The dream where trillions of stars went out in the night sky. One by one, then dozens, until finally, all that remained was the full moon that slowly faded to nothing. The icy chill of nothingness wrapped its fingers around us all. Something we, as a whole—as humans, were not accustomed to. Sharing the same fate, the same grief. The light of the universe had gone out. There was no hope left. There was only death.

As I stared around, I saw people running rampant in the streets. The only light that lit up the sky was the faint glowing of city streets and raging fires. I thought it funny in a way. All the times we spent polluting the air with fake images, adverts, lights and otherwise that masked the beauty of the universal splendor that encompassed us. We were but a drop in the ocean. Now, though, the ocean had dried up.

I was gifted with an unusual ability. The one I didn’t understand, at least at the time. Now that the sun had died and the rest of the universe had gone dark, we were probably the only place left in existence that dared defy the darkness. I thought, so very like us; to confront, challenge and try to fight against the odds. Sadly, it wouldn’t be something we could ever hope to win.

The planet was beginning to freeze, and casualties were already high. Many countries resulted just ending it all by nuclear war. A lot of people committed their last acts of sin, proclaimed their love to their significant others and families, killed themselves, murdered other people. Observing it was hard, though enduring it was as hard.

I spoke of a gift that I possessed. On the day of my death, I said goodbye to my wife and kids. I was jettisoned from my body. I traversed in spirit through a blue-white portal that took me to the realm of the living…in another universe. I opened my eyes and looked around. Indeed, I was alive. How I could not tell you.

Then there came the telltale signs of the end to which I bore witness to. I tried to reason with my family and friends. I tried telling everyone. I tried social media, blog posts, anything I possibly could. I was called a liar, a crazy person, banned from church, labeled as insane, and that I should have my children taken away from me, and my wife divorce me.

Weeks before NASA had some reports that said stars in various solar systems were dying at a rapid rate and that it was spreading fast. I had sat with my wife and kids when I watched the announcement and had a grin on my face. I had told them all the truth, but none would listen.

On the evening of when the stars went out as I had once experienced it, I told my wife and kids that I would see them again. I gave them an embrace and like before; I left my body. My physical form dropped to the ground, and I was sent to another universe.

I had stopped counting how many Earths I have visited. Each time, I felt like I was getting more and more lost with why I have such a gift. What purpose was there in my ability? What good was it if I can’t save my family, friends, let alone humanity? I don’t want to be a hero…I only want to be with my family. I don’t want to carry our problems to the next world, where it seemingly already exists. So many thoughts, hypotheticals and such flooded my racing mind as I traversed universes.

While I was lost in thought, I could have sworn I saw myself but dismissed it as a possible reflection of time, since it seemed like a mirrored hallway when I’d reach the precipice of traveling from one point to another. I shook my head and disregarded it as just a coincidence.

At last, I came to a universe where the light was still lit. Our world, however, was nothing like it was when I had left. Irradiated and in a unique stasis field, where only our solar system existed. However, humans had become disfigured and decrepit—resembling the walking dead, but with our typical wit and sense.

I noted the surrounding and how familiar it was to me.

“How did you get here?” a raspy woman’s voice inquired.

“The light in this universe hasn’t gone out yet?” I replied.

The woman shook her head. “It has. Our solar system is the only one left in the Darkness.”

“What happened then?” I asked.

The woman’s black eyes looked to the ground and then back to my eyes. “A man came from another time with a gift that could provide us with new lives,” she gestured with his hands, “this is what became of us. He, however, has been gone for some time.”

She cleared her throat and asked again where I came from.

“I come from another time. Where the Darkness, as you so call it, took place,” I said.

The woman nodded. “A lot of people died you know.”

I nodded in reply. “I know, I was there until I finally started traveling.”

The woman began to weep.

“What’s wrong,” I asked her.

She wiped away a murky tear and gave a broken smile. “We never once stopped believing you’d find us again.”

 

 

 

This was also posted on A.B.Normal Publishing and Media Group.

A Side Project [End of the World WIP]

So, with everything that’s going on (or rather has been going on) lately in the news. I got to thinking…I really need to crack down on my historical (fantasy) fiction novel. Why is “fantasy” in there? I’ll get to it in a moment, but first…

A few years back I had a dream. One where we started to have a social decline. Where people started doing more cyber-bullying and extreme trolling than ever before. The young adults and children started to die from “peer-pressure” or suicide pacts; were encouraged to kill themselves and such perverse acts. Some were groomed…to rape, take up arms and join some of the newest militias (old and new) and be ready for the coming war.

We had a president… one whom we couldn’t quite make heads or tails of, but I do remember Obama exiting the White House, and then things started going south. I only remember that the new president was boisterous, very loud, demanding, but also doing a lot of double-speak.

Next, there was an uprise of ISIS and other terrorist groups. They actually all united together, believe it or not…proposing to one another that in their Fear War, they would divide up the spoils of war…and how they would go along doing it. The extremists of the Right and Left also became loud. Very loud. There were riots at protests, a lot of people were hurt, and then there came again the matter of the Police’s lives being at risk. Civil uprise began. Nazism rose up once again. The KKK was assimilated by the Neo-Nazi’s and together. It was the beginning of our second Civil War.

Across the seas, terrorism spread like wildfire. “It is under control,” they said; the authorities trying to sway our faith—keeping it with them, instead of being afraid of what was coming. War. North Korea was a threat, sure. They eventually attempted to attack the US, but it was a distraction. Secretly, it was a live war game, prescribed and written as dispensed on both sides to keep the eyes of the world on us, while the black flags of terror were sweeping across the world. It was no longer a war over seas. It came here. It had come. The keyboard warriors that had shouted so, loud and proud that they would “end those sons of bitches.” They were left cowering over their status updates on Twitter and Facebook.

What happened next was sad…it’s true… The Pope was assassinated by the “United Terrorist Group” as a show of might. A new one was quickly elected and then… there was a heavenly sent messenger.

“A new crusade must begin. While we have respected those who would practice anything Christian or Catholic…it is time to strike out the heart of evil. The Muslim extremists must be slain,” the new Pope declared.

Yes, a new crusade. Granted, it wasn’t against the Pagans or all those non-Christian or non-Catholic…but it was a crusade against Muslims—particularly the group(s) we hear and see nowadays in the news.

The Nazis rose and fought against the Anifa group. The other movements and groups were pulled to a side. The military was deployed and Marshal Law was declared. A lot of people died. The second Civil War would eventually end…but at a bloody cost.

The economy crashed—hard. It would be the worst Depression we had ever seen the likes of. Climate Change picked up exponentially. Though, there was a lot of “yes” and “no” on that debate…so the matter was never settled within the scientific community.

Then North Korea mysteriously blew up. A stage act to bring China, Russia, Iran, and a few other countries to go to war with the USA. North Korea was “free” but it was quickly being circled by the countries who wanted to install a new government body. A treaty would be established…but at the cost of millions of lives.

While this had gone on for some time, there were new laws and reforms that were signed into law. Many of which were never voted on publicly. This was all done during the “North Korean Escapades,” and this…this led us to our second Revolutionary War and continuation of the Civil War (it had not ended yet, officially).

It then a proceeds to a clash of ordinary citizens with Neo-Nazis, with government officials/soldiers/etc. Meanwhile, the terrorist groups were laughing at us…but also suffering serious losses themselves. Eventually, they were driven to the brink of extinction…but alas, you can never kill an idea.

Now, here comes in the fantasy bit. Around the precipice of the action, we encountered many strange phenomena occurring here on Earth. Ice completely melting, frequent quakes and strange weather. Climate Change was to blame, but then on the day of the massive quake where we lost most of California, there emerged a giant brown dragon that was adorned with golden spiked tips. In the sea, there was a giant green bipedal beast with red eyes, the head of a Tyrannosaurus, and massive forearms. I know, it sounds kinda like Godzilla, right? Then, from the Arctic regions, a white giant squid. The Middle East had an army of piranha like beings that flew. Think, bats or birds but could strip a body down to the bone in seconds. Finally, there was a flying pterodactyl being with brilliant shimmering feathers from somewhere in South America.

TL;DR version: Pretty much the world goes to shit and a lot of crazy shit went on. It’s a historical (fantasy) fiction novel after all… But some parts that are going on today are pretty questionable. Far-fetched, yes, but let’s hope we can be reasonable with each other, regardless, in our days.

And so, that was me sharing with you all, and idea…and basic outline that I did from a dream/nightmare a few years back. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a Friday night to finish enjoying. 😉

Take care and until next time,

RJM

 

Disclaimer: If I hadn’t made it clear…this was all in a dream. Thus, fiction. So, NSA and such… I’m not plotting or anything. I’m just a writer writing about a dream that I had. Go home.

New Book Coming Soon! The Chronicles of Bob: The Chronic Suicidal

This entry was originally posted on A.B.Normal Publishing and Media Group’s website, where I write and contribute… a lot. 

The Chronic Suicidal is Coming Soon Q3/4 2017

Hey, folks.

As some of you may have seen on Facebook or Twitter, we’re getting ready for the great coming of Bob, the Chronic Suicidal.

The Chronicles of Bob: The Chronic Suicidal will be on sale later this year in all formats (ebook, print, and hardcover). Price, cover, and more will be released soon.

There will be a limited batch of signed copies on hand, with a contest set to claim them. Contest specifications, rules, and such are TBA, and are subject to change on a whim.

As always, when you purchase a print copy, you’ll get the Kindle version for free.

There will also be “Bob” merchandise. More on that later.

I know, I know, that’s a lot of “later” talk… but trust me, you’re gonna love his tale.

For now, you can read the raw story, as it unfolded, here on A.B.Normal Publishing and Media Group.

Please remember, this is fiction. It’s an entertainment tale; a take on a fictitious entity. We do not support or encourage suicide. We are not doctors or professionals in the field of medicine or mental psychology or psychosis. If you’re in need of help, please contact a licensed practitioner or contact the Suicide Hotline at 1-800-273-8255, or go to Suicide Lifeline Prevention.

We look forward to bringing you another exciting story to places around the world.

I invite you to stay tuned for more.

Until next time,

RJM

Hanging on to a Thought

Even though you’re gone,
We’ll keep moving on.
You’ll be another thought—a memory,
Someone who was just like me.

You should hear the things that they say
That you “quit and threw it all away.”

That “you didn’t care about the rest world,”
“Selfish. Good riddance.” Other “sentiments” hurled.

Though, I know that you’re somewhere around,
Safely watching all the things that will become unbound.

They say it’s a joke, a cop-out, and easy to quit,
“Live. Let love.  C’mon, man, take another hit.”

To leave behind all that you love and make a great escape,
When we live and breed in a world full of greed and hate.

For when the demons have finally won, what more is there to say?
“Why did you give up. Why didn’t you stay?”

So often we say that we’re fine,
Debating, procrastinating, biding my time.

When will it be?
All this misery…

Too many times I’ve put it all down,
Not to let myself be consumed, pulled under and drown.
Letting others know that it’s not my time to go.
And though I smile and try to be strong,
My thoughts, they’re dark; caged, I don’t know how long.

Eventually, the dam will break,
All that has been locked away—will I wake?

It’ll be a day where there’s no preparation,
Maybe then we can have our conversation.

In the end, we die alone,
But in life we’re lights, shone.
To each other in the dark,
We guide one another, looking for our spark.

And so your story might have ended,
Those who are lost will continue to be tended.
Our invisible wounds from which that we bleed,
All the pain and agony inside which has sown its seed.

We’re not alone in our daily struggle,
But the world makes it harder to “love your neighbor.”
Frowned upon and looked down on,
Being called “a freak,” and “you should kill yourself.”

The problem isn’t us or those that already hurt,
It’s those that antagonize and do so spurt—
Content and think they’re “safe” behind their computer screen,
When they’ve never even met you or me.

So I understand why you felt you had to go,
I only wish you could have lived to see life so.

What wonders that maybe… the world will bring,
Even if though we’ll never hear you sing.

…Again…

Comfortably numb do I exist,
Still, I’ll fight and continue to resist.
The darkness and horror that lives within,
So that maybe others can be helped—that they can see what life’s like when it begins.


Rest easy, and thanks for all you’ve done.

This was also published on www.abnormalpublishing.com

Johnny Nightwalker: Family Reunion

“I’m sorry, Johnny.” The man wiped a tear from his eye as he stared at a picture.

The door to his office opened. There stepped in a woman in a lab coat and Omega. “Dr. Ramirez, I am afraid your position with the company has been severed,” said Omega.

Ramirez shot up from his chair. “You… You don’t know the powers you are playing with here! The consequences and ramifications on the world, the people—”

Omega raised a hand and silenced the man. “Do I look like I care? I just want that brat son of yours. You made him first, yes? I want to know his weaknesses. I want to know what makes him tick. And, naturally, I want him dead.”

“Everything I know, the Agency knows,” Ramirez looked to the scientist in the lab coat, and pointed at her, “Dr. Widow has all the necessary files.”

Omega looked to the good doctor and nodded before returning his gaze back to Ramirez. “I see. So, you are expendable then? Very well, let’s do some more… field testing.”

Dr. Ramirez reached into his desk for his handgun. Omega motioned a quick swipe through the air, sending the doctor flying into his bookshelves, sending books and other paraphernalia falling atop him.

“That won’t be necessary…” said Omega.

“Widow… when did you let him take over?” Dr. Ramirez grunted.

Dr. Widow smiled. “My son has big plans.”

“What the hell is this, some sort of childish rivalry?” Ramirez grunted as he got to his feet, catering to his right arm.

“Think of it as a battle of gods… and right now, my boy is proving to be quite capable. Perhaps it was wise to lay with you after all,” said Dr. Widow.

“What—what? You… Are you? No… that cannot be!”

Dr. Widow laughed, “Surprised? I thought you could tell… he does have your eyes after all.” Omega smirked at the remark.

“Johnny will come…” Ramirez grunted as Omega grabbed him by the throat and hoisted him high into the air.

“I am counting on it,” smirked the giant.

* * *

After his brief reprieve against Pestilence, Johnny felt a strange sensation and heard a voice in his mind.

Johnny… I am sorry.

“Mr. Ramirez?” he said aloud.

Johnny, he’s in danger. You have to help him. He holds the key to defeating the Horsemen and Omega. Jerry’s voice chimed in.

“Chico, Red, we have to get to the school right away. Something is happening to Ramirez,” said Johnny.

“That’s pretty far away, lad. I don’t think we would make it in time.”

Johnny smirked. “Forgetting about my new magic trick? Just hold on tight.”

“Is this PETA approved?” asked Chico.

As the group began to fade and travel, “Not sure but we’ll find out,” added Johnny.

* * *

Omega and Dr. Widow escorted Dr. Ramirez to the white van, Johnny, Chico, and Red appeared in front of the vehicle.

“That… was one hell of a trip,” said Red.

“I think I’m still spinning,” added Chico.

Omega took note of Johnny’s presence. “Ah, so the prodigal son makes his appearance.”

“Who are you and what are you doing with Mr. Ramirez?” asked Johnny.

“No ‘hello, brother. It has been awhile.’? I am heartbroken,” Omega gestured a teardrop falling down his cheek, and then grinned.

“Brother? What are you going on about?”

“While your dad, well, our dad was busy bumbling over you to be perfected in becoming the absolute specimen for the Agency, my mother was busy making me become just as strong and just as capable as you. Thus, I was given the name Omega. I am superior to the Alpha and Beta Projects in so many ways.” Omega flexed.

Johnny turned to Dr. Widow. “So you bred a giant meathead to become stronger than me? That’s…that must be pretty detrimental to your science career.”

Widow became angered at the remark. “You little gnat! I will have him squash you and everyone you loved.” She then took in a deep breath and exhaled, regaining a calm composure. “We shall start… with your dear old dad.”

Johnny remained unphased.

“Johnny… I’m sorry,” said Ramirez. “I wanted you to have a better life. I figured though if I could at least make you the strongest and the hope that Mankind needed, maybe then, I could at least go to the grave knowing I was good at something.”

“I knew you were my father. I had a lot of visions and memories. I know you were only doing what you thought best. I know…in another time, another life you would be a good father. So I don’t hold anything against you,” Johnny said reassuringly.

“Too sweet. Really, that’s touching. I almost felt a tug at my heartstrings. Almost,” Omega then laughed, “but you’re making me SICK.”

The giant raised his right massive boot and kicked Dr. Ramirez down to the ground. “I say, It’s time to retire, dear doctor.” The sprawl of absolute glee and sadism stretched from ear to ear on Omega’s face as he brought down his boot again against Doctor Ramirez’s head. Blood, brains, and bone fragments were sent gushing everywhere.

Before his head popped like a balloon, Johnny swore he heard his father say he loved him. Though, right now, all Johnny could hear right now was the angry voices that were swelling within.

“Pop goes the doctor!” Omega joked as he twisted the heel of his boot into the twitching corpse.

“You… monster…” Johnny fought back the rage that was stirring.

Omega grinned sadistically. “That look is priceless. It’s almost as good as when I had that little shit kill your dear, dear friend, Jerry.”

His eyes shot open in shock. He had always suspected that there was more to the story… but now, now he had all he needed.

“YOU… SON OF A BITCH! I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!” Johnny roared.

Chico and Red tried to calm Johnny down, but it was of no use. He was seeing blood… Omega’s blood.

Johnny struck wildly at the giant but was evaded easily.

You’re not going to be able to hit him while you’re so far gone, Johnny. You need to recollect yourself and try when you’re calm.

Laddy, ya’ve got to stop! Ya gonna get killed!

Red and Chico tried again and again… nothing was getting through.

“Yes, that’s it! Show me your moves, Nightwalker. Show me what you’re capable of. Let me see all that you are worth—and then BREAK YOU! Omega casually said as he dodged Johnny’s attacks.

He was weakening fast and he knew it. The rage had won… they had won. Chico and Red were right in that at this moment, Johnny was not strong enough. He needed more time. More power.

Omega, too, had noted this. He rushed in for a solid punch in Johnny’s gut and then uppercutted him—sending him to the ground several feet back. Chico and Red rushed to Johnny’s side.

“C’mon, lad, we’ve got to go!” said Red.

“I know…” said Johnny as he propped himself up, “hold on.”

Chico and Red grabbed a hold of Johnny and as Omega motioned to land a deadly blow, the three vanished from the brutes sight.

“Damn it,” Omega gritted his teeth.

“It’s fine, darling. We’ve proven our point. There’s nothing now that can stop us,” Dr. Widow said as she approached the giant of a man from behind and wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his back.

“I have to say, your story was convincing to the doctor and boy. He actually believes that we are brothers, ha! What a fool,” Omega grinned.

Dr. Widow grinned and chuckled silently to herself.

“We should make our next move. We should pay my… adoptive parents a visit,” said Omega as he cracked his knuckles. “We wouldn’t want the family to not know of the bad news after all.”

* * *

Johnny, Chico, and Red all landed and rolled across the ground back at their hideaway.

Johnny began slamming his fist into the ground, making a hole in the concrete.

“I know you’re angry, kid, but you need a clear head. There are Horsemen out there still killing in his name and making a mess of things,” said Red.

“He’s right. We need to deal with them and then handle Omega,” added Chico.

Johnny sat on his knees, closed his eyes and sighed.

He opened them, clarity and reason had been reached. “Let’s make this a group effort. Get Pierre and his gang, alert Rottie and her pack. We need everyone on board.”

Red and Chico both nodded.

“It’s time for the world to strike back, for those who have been wronged to rise up and strike down these tyrannous villains who would otherwise bring mankind to extinction.” Johnny looked down to Chico and Red with a grin, “Can I count on you?”

JOHNNY “NIGHTWALKER” IS AN ONGOING A.B.NORMAL PUBLISHING EXCLUSIVE STORY BY ROBERT J. S. T. MCCARTNEY. CHECK HERE FOR MORE POSTS.

Link of the Mount

Link is climbing a mountain,

Why is he climbing a mountain?

Link is climbing a mountain,

Why is he climbing a mountain?

To hug the mountain,

To envelop that mountain.

To hug the mountain,

To envelop that mountain.

To hug the mountain—that mountain.

He wants to make love to the mountain.

Why does Link climb the mountain?

Because he’s in love.

 


 

Based off of Fall on Your Sword’s “Shatner of the Mount.”


 

I bought the oil canvas painting of The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild via ThinkGeek for my wife (since she’s a huge Zelda fan, and our daughter is… well… Zelda.) Anyway, I first thought while purchasing this, you know what? Shatner of the Mount… but with Link.

Lo and behold, it was on point.

So there you have it. A random post of a gorgeous, 1 of 600 oil canvas of The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild… and William Shatner… and Fall on Your Sword—all in one!

Now I have to move some other pictures around. *le sigh*

Well, until next time!

RJM

A Poem: Bedtime

Bedtime

By Robert J. S. T. McCartney

As I lie here and rest my head
Next to you, where we’ve made our bed

In the dark, where my eyes dare play tricks
My view obscured by the plight of the night

The light, faint and ever growing tired, it mimics
A heart, and lungs, breathing

I often worry, though
That, how of which you lie
Restful slumber; your silhouette
Is as much as death, forever sleeping

So I cling and often toss and turn
Waking to the demons that dare try to come and take you away;
Wildly swinging, and shooing them tirelessly
“Begone, pest from another plane!” I growl

And so I’ll fight until my eyes do tire
The morning light comes, and then you stir
Then I can rest until the night comes again

As long as I have you by my side
I’ll try and try, defend and brave against the darkness and the demons that lurk

Otherwise…

I’m nothing without you
I can sleep when I eventually die

For my wife.