Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Frindle's Rising Chapter 5

The dark, bleak skies started to shroud the hope as the fey lived in their homes; feeling dark and sorrowful to the brim with Frindle in power. She knew though that it's not going to last forever. She planned and made with her hands a new weapon to her Reign. The Metallic Maiden.

As the days passed longingly and agonizing for the fey, the world turned to the new ways of Frindle. The Sun stood in a dark haze of clouds as Frindle marched alongside the guards she trained dearly to help her or they will die from her hands. The trees turned away from her as she strolled in the many forests to check on the villages to collect money/ valuables.  For fun as she does this, she causes mischief by calling out death threats and violent teasing to anyone who even gave her even a single stare that's not out of fear. The stars grew dim at night when Frindle stayed awake but grew brighter as she slept; like if they were coming out from hiding. The ground was sucked away from the nutrition it contained as Frindle strolled on it like if her feet were leeches. The whole world feared her. Well almost everyone. Some fey revolted against her ruling and even tried to get their rivals to join in her rebellion against her.  They called upon Rayians (the water fey who bordered where the land is placed), followed by the Melenies and even the islanders, Sanah, heard the news of this new Reign and revolt to the evil fey Overlord.

Of course, Frindle would hear of these plans to get her off the throne for she had spies who "helped" in the rebellion or people who feared her would tattle-tale even behind their friend's backs. Even though she promised the traitors refuge and forgiveness, days later they were slaughtered and murdered by the guards for treason. No mercy was held in Frindle's court to no one. With this in mind, she knew she had to bring fear to her people again.


To the world.

She looked to her power and knowledge of iron, metal, and violence to create something unexpected. In her underground dungeons of her beloved castle, she works in the dark and uses her evil scheming brain to create something so menacing and so vile that with any fey eyes they would be moralized in terror. She made her creature have large arms and hands to grab any fey big or small. The feet had wheels that can appear and dissappear in a compartment inside its foot so it can speed away after any fey who tries to fly away. Its chest  is filled with cages to keep fey trapped inside it while it is covered with giant metal plates for coverage against attacks from bows and arrows. It has plates all over its legs. arms, back, shoulders, and has a giant helmet to cover its face. It towered over Frindle at such a height of 20 times the size of any fey creature that even the tall Sanahs would have to stand on their mountains to get a full scale of the monster. Its red eyes were dim, bleak, and held a resemblance to the evil gaze that Frindle had been cursed with.

As she stepped away from her creation, she looked fondly at it. She closed her hands around herself and closed her eyes as she gets sucked away to her memories of her past...

"Mom! Dad! Look what I made!" A small, high pitched voice recalled.

Two lean and tall figures look down to a young child. The child had a look of innocence; something to not expect from the former Villain. The feminine and smaller parent bent down to Frindle and slowly took what is then seen in view a Redwood branch that had a sharp point that could cut into flesh if you weren't being per-cautious. The older and taller of the mother shook his head in disapproval. 

"Young girls shouldn't be making weapons. Young girls shouldn't have to think of such violence. It poisons the mind of one and all."

Suddenly, there was a snap of wood and a break of crying as water was fallen to the fields below the young Frindle. She was then taken to the comfort of her mother's hold, but all Frindle did was sheathe with her watery gaze towards her father...

Findle's eyes open as she saw before her hand started to bleed around her again. She examined her hand for a few minutes before decideing to lick the blood. Sorrow. Anger. Pain. She felt them tremble in her mouth and was then gone in a swift motion as she walked toward her new creation. She floated to the chest of the metal monster. Her hands were covered in bluish-purple marks of what meant a warning for her to not touch the metal. She ignored the pain that never seemed to fade as she said with a cold tone filled with dried blood, "Awaken my Metallic Maiden."

The Metallic Maiden's eyes started to glow. Its iron limbs start to move as it hinges made ear-splitting creaks. Its chest makes hissing noises as its inner wheels starts turning. As it starts to stand more noises from its inner structure can be heard.

Hiss. Clank. Clonk. Bonk. Bong. Hisssss.

 Its head then turns to Frindle with a pop from its neck joint as it waited for its next order.

"Take out the Rayians. Take out the Melenies. Take out the Sanahs. Let no one stand in your way! You will only listen to me your leader. Your commander! I'm the master of you and no one else! Go now! GOO!!!"

The Metallic Maiden lifted its head up and abruptly turned to a wall. It trotted to the old moldy stone wall,  making more noises as it walked.

Clank. Bong. Pop. Hisssss.

 It started to push with barely any strength as the wall collapsed, crumbling to pieces at its feet and made a giant hole for the Metallic Maiden to walk through. As the Metallic Maiden little by little went to the further distance, Frindle stood in her place. She clutched her hand more as she felt something inside her starting to rot. She gripped her wrist more. More blood trickled down her wrist to the floor. A voice flooded her ears and a eerie echo of her past overcame her again:

Young girls shouldn't be making weapons. Young girls shouldn't have to think of such violence. It poisons the mind of one and all.....

She shook her head violently as she started to follow her metal destructive weapon to the horizon what she guessed to be the Rayians.

Saturday, January 28, 2012

The Inner Me

            What people don’t see is a little child with a blindfold over her eyes.
            She reaches out and a hand like hers leads her.
            She follows the child for a few years and soon becomes friends with her.
            But then later abandons her when the little child could finally see,
            Letting the little girl learn to fend for the loss on her own.

            What people don’t see is a young child in the corner.
            In the hidden mist was another girl and they were close.
            They told each other everything and shared journals.
            Letting their imaginations run wild in mystical lands,
            Filled with fey, fights, evil crows and eagles who were shapeshifters.         
            Blood would sometimes get spilled but the Faroe Gods were the worst.
            As this world became real,
            So did their friendship.

            What people don’t see is the young woman having many holes.
            Bullet holes from agony,
            Sadness and sorrow.
            But they heal slowly for she doesn’t let them out to the open.
            Not even her Safekeepers who raised her couldn’t keep a lock on them.
            She felt delicate,
 And even fell,
 Turning to feathers in her dreams.

            What people don’t see is a warrior in training.
            She is learning to be tactile and sneaky minded.
            How to be brave and smooth in a fight,
            But not ones using prowess and agile with body limbs.
            It uses your heart and words of the whim.
            She trains long and hard as she sits in her room,
            Writing on paper and makes conversation with oneself.

            What people don’t see,
            Is myself,
            The Inner Me.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

In the Night


Rises high as I stare into it's gaze.


The gases that are far,

But are seen as beings filled with content.

My mind and soul belong in the space,

That helps my heart expand with the wonders and joy.


You help me live and fly in my dreams.

No gravity to define what is it meant to really dream,

And feel like a bird and reach goals.

So Sky I thank you.

Night I thank you.


I thank you the most.

In My Time of Dying

On the white sheets,

They feel rough but at the same distant.

My hands were in the air,

Being supported by other ones,

My mind illusion them to be mini crutches.

I can’t see the faces that stand in front of me,

Like blobs of color from the paintings of Picasso.

I suddenly felt my subconscious drift to the air,

Leaving the body intact but still holding on to it.

Words float and drift away to the bright white room:





The words stick and poison myself,

Tasting a bit of vile with each word.


Words from the blobs come into the boundaries:





My brain spins,

It rotates like Pluto,




But it’s slowly getting distant,



I hear something buzz in my ears,

Not like a bee,

Nor like a broken television,

But a low buzz that sounds soothing.

                             My mind knew it was breaking down.

Like a vein exploding by heart failure.


Like they were called,

The spirits come with open arms,

But the Wil-O-Wisps just stared.

My mind spilled and floated more away,


Like stars who lost their lights.






These words I grasp as I lye down.

My hands resting,

My eyes closing,

My voice fading.

I feel like a robot in need of repairs,





For I’m hiding under the bed of angels,

They don’t notice me.

They fly away when I reach.

My friends gone.

Family far away like my body.

I only hear the buzz again,

Turning into a soft voice.


Telling me,







Monday, January 16, 2012

Death is Not The End


A taker,

Also a giver.

The one hated,

The one brought to with open arms.

A cloaked figure with a big scythe.

A demon with wings who haunts humans.

The enemy.

Never a friend.


Never be fooled.

Even when the person isn't moving,

He is never gone.

Death is not The End.

Death is the key to the Door:


On the other side,

There is no white place with clouds,

No spirit floats and comes back to Earth to re-live,

It doesn't even go down to be burned in fires of anger.

The soul,

The energy of the human,

It goes to a place,

Where other humans dream and wish for it to go to.

The other side is a illusion.

The humans turn to animals,

The animals turn into you.

Death is the key,

To Life's door,

To the human's,