A burst of red flame spewed from its open jaws and Michael scrambled out of the way just as the grass was scorched into a pile of ash. He ran at the underside of the dragon, slashing upward, covering himself in boiling dragon’s blood. Screaming, he ran away from the wound grasping at his shoulders and left arm.
The dragon complimented his yells with a roar of pain, crashing heavily to the ground on all four powerful legs. The dragon took to the sky in a rush, heaving a large gust at Michael. Being tossed onto his feet by the wind, he grasped at the dragon’s tail as it slid from the ground.
The weightless experience was cut short as he severed the tail, falling hard to the ground once more. He knew that it could not fly without its counterbalance. He was soon proved right: The dark dragon plunged to the earth with a bone-snapping crunch.
“Well… that was probably the coolest thing I’ve ever killed.”
I stood motionless, horrified, not believing what I was seeing. Kim, my best friend until, well—until she became the Seer—stood before me, encompassed by the power of Lucifer, the ultimate evil.
“You can’t kill a being sentenced to eternal damnation. I have waited twenty thousand years to slay you! Once you die and the Sword of Light is in my hand, I will move onto Kreios… and Michael… and every other traitorous Son of El that has forsaken their exaltation to be on this cursed earth!”
Kim then lifted into the air and flew at me. I instinctively flew to the right, countering her direction and flying above her. She swerved and gazed up at me, the fire in here eyes tangible and real. Screaming with a voice not her own, she lunged at me sword first. “This game will end!” she yelled at me.
“I do not fear you!” I called back at her as I shot into her body and sent her flying. Both of us yelling, we collided in the air. I could feel each punch she threw. Each one was unmeasured and wild. I defended, I could feel her sword clashing with mine.
Finally she kicked me in the chest. I hit the ground but bounced up. Climbing to my feet after the second impact I braced myself. Kim smashed the ground twenty feet away.
I found myself in an empty space—nothing but a frameless door and me. I walked evenly toward it, knowing I must pass through it to defeat Kim.
The door opened silently and I felt my body grow warm.
I opened my eyes.
Everything was where it had once been. The Sword was now in my hand, and when I looked at it, the pure intense light was so strong I had to look away.
The demon was running at me once again, but now all fear left me.
I was just there with Kim, my friend.
I cut upward, into her heart.
Kim’s sword fell out of her hand. She stood shocked before me, shielding her eyes from the light of the Sword that was now in my hand. I twisted my blade and remembered Kim—the real Kim. Her quirky laughter, the stupid jokes, the unrealistic crushes.
Tears ran down my face as I lunged. The hillside around us torn apart amid the battle, the hacked bodies and the hatred, it had ruined such a beautiful place that was once luscious and green.
I plunged Sword deeper into her heart, feeling the evil within her die along with her fragile body.
The evil of the Bloodstone undone, the battle was immediately changed. The demon Brothers lost all their power. The drain I had grown so used to now vanished.
I opened my eyes to see Kim, just herself, the way she was normally.
I looked over the field of battle and saw that the last few demons had been killed.
Michael walked up to the top of the hill half smiling—half out of victory, half out of grief for the loss of my friend.
The cheer from the victorious angels rang out as loud as thunder. We had won. Evil had lost.
Now my life could finally become normal again… maybe…
END
If you want to write Fan Fiction based off the Airel saga, you can find out more information about it at: www.TheWorstBookEver.blogspot.com. With each release we will pick a winner. All sorts of prizes and even a book signing with the author will be given out for each title. If you ever had a dream to be a published author this is your chance! We want to thank Kyle for his rockin’ story and hope that he enjoys seeing it in this edition of Michael.
Coming Soon from Aaron Patterson…
BREAKING STEELE (A Sarah Steele Thriller)
Now available from Aaron Patterson…
SWEET DREAMS (A Mark Appleton Thriller)
Look for more titles by Aaron Patterson on Amazon.
SWEET DREAMS
DREAM ON
IN YOUR DREAMS
AIREL
MICHAEL
URIEL: Coming Soon
THE CRAIGSLIST KILLER (Digital Short)
19 (Digital Short)
Coming soon from Chris White ...
The Wagner Diary
Book II in the Airel Saga Diary Series (late 2012)
Now available from C.P. White ...
Strongbox: a Digital Short
(excerpt)
It is safe here. Warm, cool; cozy. There is light. There is a place for Thea to rest her head. There are walls, clean and sleek, that keep the darkness out. There is routine, normalcy, security. There is a roof, things are orderly inside the strongbox.
There is a door on one side, but a bolt secures it that has never moved in all her memory.
The strongbox is safe. Thea knows this because of the things that are outside it that are dangerous. Interruptions to order and peace always come from outside. First it was noises, she remembers. Strange howls and shrieks. Then a thing from outside slammed into the door, as if the thing knew it was a door and might be broken down—this is how she knows it is safe inside— because it is scary and unsafe outside it.
The things outside want to come in. The things want what Thea has. They want to destroy it from the inside and take it away forever.
Why?
Thea doesn’t know why. She knows only her fear.
***
The strongbox is bulletproof. A vault. Thick panels of glass framed by strong steel. Thea lives inside it in safety; she doesn’t need anything.
Occasionally she can see suggestive vistas through the glass, but mostly it’s darkness out there. When she looks outside and sees things, she is terrified.
There isn’t much to do inside but be. She exists, simply, and that is enough. Time blends in an inebriating fog in her mind, a smudgeon that erases desire, hushing the unsettling questions.
Fear gives her quarter and comfort, sates her with limits to knowledge, helps her to feel life inside the box will always be enough. Can it be a wonder that her mind wanders from time to time?
***
She dreams in fantasy of a boy, and this boy takes her places and shows her impossible things, speaks to her in a different way and her heart flutters under the intravenous influence of something new and untasted. She gives herself entirely to the fantasy boy, even after he fades and she is pushed up to the surface of awareness, back to the strongbox. She swims downward to dreams and the boy, to the love-feel that he can produce in her chest, in her heart, the flutter.
Is mere existence enough?
***
Awake.
The door is open. The bolt is retracted, and she can feel it. It is swung inward and wide on thick hinges, yawning before the black of night outside, and now, for the first time, the darkness charges cold into her world.
Is this a consequence of the boy? She panics.
Thea is pushed out of the box.
She screams; the door closes with authority, and the bolt slams home.
She screams; she wants back inside.
There are things outside.
She fears them.
She fears the unknown.
She feels unprepared.
She feels abandoned.
The lights go out—the beacon the box once was is no more.
With closed fist, she pounds, wails away at it. Though she can no longer see it, she knows it�
�s there, and she wants back inside.
***
Since the light in the box has gone out, it’s hard to gauge time.
At first she stood plastered, her back against the box, hyperventilating. At length she sat against it in sorrow. Then she beat against it in rage, cursing it. Then she sat back down again, leaning against it in utter defeat. And now…
She begins to see the wild; the uncivilized and dirty wild.
The fear returns with a vengeance.
There are noises: A flitting sound. A muffled skid. Rustling.
Her eyes adjust to the darkness; there is movement in the shadows.
***
Time goes by, apparently. Off to one side, there is light; it is far off. But it increases. It is a bright dull and gray, but it helps Thea to see. It is not the kind of light she knows. Around her are strange and fantastic things that stand upright on the dirt and wave and move in the same breezes that caress her own cheek.
But these green things are not the movement that she heard in the shadows before; these are silent. Mostly; they rustle.
Then she sees what made the flitting sound. It is small, it moves through the air like a dart, but changing directions at will. It is bright in yellow and blue and sometimes red and has spindly legs and can stand on the ground, but Thea notices it seems to prefer to light on the fantastic things that stand on the dirt and wave in the breeze.
She thinks now and marvels at the things, wondering why she understands so little.
But still, these are not what made the noise she heard in the darkness.
Then she hears the noise: there it is again.
It is a voice.
***
Petrified, she waits, sitting on the ground with her back to it, her breathing gagging her, coming in whiffs. Then she sees it: this is one like her, clothed like she is.
Huddled over in the shadows and mumbling, it rises, approaches her: the one with the voice.
She scrambles upward, trying to get away, increase the distance between them: for this is a thing of which she’s not yet dreamt, and it is wholesale horrific to her mind.
But the one thing like her rushes her, closes the distance, and before she can fly in total fear, the one thing has imprisoned her, pressing her against the box bodily, heavy arms to each side of her head, breath hot in her face, hostilely speaking: “Why is it dangerous outside?”
Thea understands the language. But she is too afraid to answer. Even if she does answer, she doesn’t know what to say.
“Why are you out of the box?”
Thea’s voice, unused, is frail and thin: “I—I was—I was pushed out.”
“Why were you pushed out?” The voice of the one thing is deep and resounding, threatening, scary.
It is unlike her own. She can only answer, “It was a consequence of the boy!”
“This—now—is a consequence of the boy.”
Thea weeps for this, an enshrouded confirmation of her mistake. She cries deeply within her heart for a revocation of it. For a chance to remove the punishment. “I’ll do anything to go back…”
“You can never go back.” Then the one thing like her pushes off the wall, away from her, and steps back, regarding her. There is hair on its face that hangs down in matted wisps of gray.
It is strange, like her and yet not like her. “Can I never go back?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“You ask the wrong questions.”
She looks at the hairy face, confused.
The one thing like her steps away, turns its back to her and begins to walk off.
Suddenly she knows what it will be like to be alone, and for the first time. “Wait!” she calls.
“No. You wait.”
***
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
AARON PATTERSON
Aaron is the father of three kids: Soleil, Kale, and Klayton. He is the author of the bestselling Mark Appleton thriller series, The Airel Saga, and The Sarah Steele thriller series. Aaron worked in the construction field for 11 years and is now a full time writer. Aaron was home schooled and has a bachelors degree in theology. He loves to hike, snowboard, camp, and drink coconut lattes. He is also the founder of StoneHouse Ink and Co-founder of StoneHouse University. He speaks all over the country on the subject of eBooks, writing and the changing publishing world.
Connect with Aaron at his blog: http://theworstbookever.blogspot.com
Friend him on Facebook: www.facebook.com/aaronpatterson
And Twitter: @mstersmith
CHRIS WHITE
Chris White grew up living on an old San Francisco city bus that was converted to an RV, living in almost every state of the Union. He spent most of childhood learning how to make fast friends, reading books and doing heroic skids on his coaster-brake bike. He spent most of adolescence playing the trumpet and being a total nerd, building lots and lots of plastic models. He tried college for a couple years, but interrupted that with four years of service as an infantryman in the U.S. Marines. He finished college later, but the Marines taught him far more. He met his wife in Idaho and then spent six months in South Africa with her shortly after they were married. He’s tried being a truck driver, bicycle mechanic, executive recruiter, drummer in a rock band and call center robot, but he’s always, always been a writer—which he only just realized a few years ago. More recently, Chris took up the trumpet again and is now teaching privately. He has two boys and lives with his family in Idaho.
Look for more eBook titles by Chris White and C.P. White on Amazon.
Connect with Chris at his blog: http://cpwhitemedia.blogspot.com
Friend him on Facebook: www.facebook.com/whatnorthbetrue
And Twitter: @cpwhitemedia
Check out his Great Jammy Adventure series of illustrated books for kids: http://www.jammyadventures.com
Michael
Copyright ©2011, 2012 by Aaron Patterson and Chris White
All rights reserved as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the publisher.
StoneHouse Ink 2012
StoneHouse Ink
Boise, ID 83713
http://www.stonehouseink.net
First eBook Edition: 2012
First Paperback Edition 2012
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to a real person, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Michael: a novel/by Aaron Patterson & Chris White
Cover design by © Claudia McKinney - phatpuppyart.com
Model/Jake Rafus
Published in the United States of America
StoneHouse Ink
Table of Contents
Acclaim by Aaron Patterson and Chris White
Title Page
Also by Aaron Patterson and Chris White
PART FIVE: The Curse
From the Book of the Brotherhood ...
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Chapter XIV
Chapter XV
Chapter XVI
PART SIX: The Path
From the Book of the Brotherhood ...
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Chapter XIV
Chapter XV
/>
Chapter XVI
Chapter XVII
PART SEVEN: The Mark
From the Book of the Brotherhood ...
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Chapter XIV
Chapter XV
Chapter XVI
Chapter XVII
Chapter XVIII
Chapter XIX
Chapter XX
Chapter XXI
Chapter XXII
PART EIGHT: The Awakening
From the Book of the Brotherhood ...
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Chapter XIV
"URIEL" sample
Fan Fiction winning entry
Also coming soon
About the Authors
Copyright Information
Michael (The Airel Saga, Book 2) Page 35
