Slave Quarters: Chapter 9 – A Suspect (Mystery Fiction)

Posted by Rock Kitaro on October 1, 2018
Posted in: About the Author, Cloud Beaudry, Slave Quarters. Tagged: , , , , . Leave a comment

The six Slave Quarter victims have been identified. But before the police chief holds his press conference, the team goes over the grisly details surrounding their deaths. They have a suspect in mind, but as per usual, Cloud isn’t satisfied. He takes a moment to reflect.

Chapter 9 - A Suspect - Maju Bellucciartwork by Maju Bellucci

Chapter 9 – A Suspect
By Rock Kitaro

“So apparently, Griffin’s a racist. Who would’ve thunk it?”

“I knew it. That’s probably why he ain’t take me seriously when I told him Joe was the one who killed your mom!”

It’s closing in on six and I finally have a moment to myself. It’s outside the four-story police department in historic downtown Augusta. The pastel skies cleared up for a gorgeous golden sunset over the Savannah River. From my spot on the 2nd floor terrace, I can see clearly the shimmering waters and the Carolinian townhomes lining the banks of the other side.

This 2nd floor terrace was where ranking officers came to eat lunch or enjoy a smoke break. Since it’s after five, the picnic tables are vacant. I’m twenty feet away from the doors and there’s a rustling breeze brushing against the façade like a current. I have the floor to myself, thus I feel safe to give my one confidant a call and speak my mind at ease. Miranda hears the wind and thinks she has to shout to overcompensate.

“To be honest, the decision to put myself on this case was kind of spur of the moment. I suppose deep down, knowing Griffin still exists, potentially botching cases galore just didn’t sit well with me. And looks like my premonition isn’t far off. Seems he’s still a living, breathing miscarriage of justice. And to think I was so close to forgiving him.”

“Boy, please. You weren’t about to forgive nobody. Not over your mother. It’s the reason why you’ve been doing what you’ve doing. What exactly did the bastard say?”

“He said he doesn’t like black people. Pretty clear, cut, and dry about it. Although, you’ll forgive me if I hold back certain details.”

“NO! I want to know everything!” Miranda shouts.

I shake my head and chuckle. “No, Miranda. By the way, you better not be smoking.”

“You took my last pack, bubblehead! I don’t get paid till tomorrow.”

“I’m doing you a favor. You don’t want those good looks to go down the drain, do you? How else are you going to find a good man?”

“I got men chasin’ me. Don’t you worry ‘bout it. Anyways… How’s the case coming? Almost done?”

“I don’t know. I mean we’re on the right track. I think. We’re about to have a briefing to discuss a new suspect and everyone’s salivating to sink their teeth in him. The haste is alarming and I can hardly stomach such half-assed investigating. Not to mention, there’s still the business of KeNedra’s suicide. It’s so freakin weird.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone keeps talking about how strong-minded she was. Strong people simply don’t commit suicide. I can’t believe that. I don’t want to accept it. Dude, I…I don’t want to say it. Friggin Jimmy Coolidge planted this idea in my head. Maybe KeNedra was possessed,” I say whilst loosening up my collar.

“Well, that’s not unusual. Not in your world. Not sure what I can say over the phone, but didn’t you say that’s how Maggie got business done?”

“Maggie’s different. Besides, she only works on individuals who are already terrified to the state that their mental capacity is diminished. That’s when their realities can be manipulated and toyed with. Actually, we should probably stop talking about this over the phone,” I say with a careless chuckle.

“And you don’t want to believe she was possessed?” Miranda asks again. Her tone suggests that I’m refusing to believe the truth, like a child who doesn’t want to believe Santa Claus is a lie.

“This case. Feels like there’s something I’m overlooking. Something that’s staring me right in the face.”

“And how are you gonna handle Griffin?”

“I have to work with him. He’s not a bad person. He’s just…you know. Normal. He and Leanne have been texting each other all day like a couple of schoolgirls trying to be discreet but failing miserably. Anyways…as long as Leanne has her sights on him, I don’t have to worry about her watching me.”

“And your lovely dovie?” Miranda asks.

“It’s not like that. I might be wrong about Jessica. She’s proven herself to be nothing but courteous and professional, very insightful and dedicated. Five years is a long time. We’ve had a president come and go. I’ve grown up. I’d be silly to dismiss the idea that she has not.”

“So you’re just going to forgive, Griffin? Just like that. What if he came out and said he don’t like blond haired white people?” Miranda questions.

“Miranda…He’s not a killer. Just an idiot.”

“And how many Cloud Beaudrys has he created by letting his prejudice fuck up the case?”

“Wow, Miranda. If I didn’t know any better…”

“Hey, baby. You can lie to yourself all day, sugar. But you can’t lie to me. I don’t believe for a second that you get any satisfaction out of doing what you do.”

“I made a promise, Miranda. A man keep his word.”

“And I’m saying! If Griffin did his job in the first goddamn place you would’ve never had to make any promises to begin with.”

“Miranda! I hear what you’re saying. Honestly I do. But you talk about not lying to myself. I’m telling you, my world ended the day my mom died. Handling Griffin or anyone else will never change that. The least I can do is keep my fucking word!”

“To a ghost, Cloud! Do you know how crazy that sounds?”

“Alright, Miranda. I need to go.”

“Hang up on me if you want to.”

“I need to go!”

“Let me tell you one more thing. See, ya pissed off cause you know I’m right.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Miranda, I had a conversation with KeNedra’s mother today. She could’ve given a paid exclusive worth thousands of dollars to any one of the top media outlets in the country. She could’ve cashed in her grief for fortune and fame but she’s wont. She’s exercising forgiveness. Forgiveness, Miranda. Her daughter was abducted and died in police custody. She’s not crying out for retribution.”

“AND?!” Miranda barks.

“And I’m saying, who the fuck am I? That I lash out and put everyone down who crosses me!?”

“Why are you comparing yourself everyone? This ain’t like you, Cloud.”

“I always question myself, Miranda. Just not out loud.” I say, hopelessly leaning over the rail.

Miranda sighs. “Cloud, you’re not happy. Even when you’ve come back from keeping ya fucked-up promise, I see you. You’re miserable. You know what I think you need to do? Help this family. I know you have all your secret agendas and Maggie crawling up your ass, but help this family. Griffin gon’ be Griffin. Flush out all that noise and focus on getting justice for the little girl’s family. Your justice.”

I didn’t expect this conversation to get so sentimental. She’s striking a nerve on so many levels. It’s been a long day and this is mentally draining. Miranda Burnette… She likes confrontation way too much. You won’t conquer her with compliments and confections. What she craves is conflict, as per usual. Maybe I’m the same way. I did volunteer for this case after all.

“Anyways! Let me get out of here. Meetin the girls at the gym for a spin class.” She brags.

“That sounds…like a lot of scraping. Hey, Miranda. Do me a favor. Download some gospel music for when I get back.”

“What kind of gospel music you want?”

“I don’t know. The kind that makes you feel good in this rotten world. I defer to your judgment.”

“Alright, boo. I got you.”

– Click to Read the rest of the Chapter

The Knights with No Lords: Chapter 8 – Cascades (Historical Fiction)

Posted by Rock Kitaro on September 28, 2018
Posted in: About the Author. Tagged: , , , , , , . Leave a comment

There’s a lot of catching up to do. Gawain learns about the tension between Britannia’s warring nations while his brothers learn about the hardships he had to endure while enslaved to the Hibernians. The youngsters come to terms with the fact that they’re living in a violent world of death and destruction. But despite the odds against them, everyone knows deep down…one day they will come to rule the world.

Chapter 8 - Cascades - Jorge BarredaPhoto by Jorge Barreda

Chapter 8 – Cascades
By Rock Kitaro

Their mission was a success. Gawain was rescued and the capture of Princess Isolde was an added bonus. Tristan asserted himself as the party leader as they galloped a full day to cross south over the River Clyde. They didn’t consider themselves safe from King Drest’s reach until they were south of the river.

Daylight dwindled. They needed to find shelter soon. Tracing southbound along the river, Tristan led them to a magnificent waterfall that was once inhabited by dwarves a century earlier. A hollow cave at the base of the waterfall served as the gateway to deep boroughs hidden beneath the earth. There were still carvings of their ancient language etched in the cave wall. The symbols glowed bright orange, infused with ether and amber.

The valley at the bottom of this breathtaking waterfall was enclosed by flat slabs of marble and cream-colored limestone. Beyond the rock formations, a perimeter of flourishing green trees shrouded this oasis with a leafy canopy that stretched out over the river. Birds whistled. The cascade’s endless crash was pleasant to hear. The water was crisp and refreshing, so clear that they could see the smooth pebbles settled on the riverbed. It was perfect. They were isolated. They were safe.

Morgan and Isolde cleansed themselves under Kanish and Balto’s supervision while the rest of the men ventured out to hunt. It was an awkward situation for the ladies as Isolde distinctly remembered Morgan calling for her death. Isolde understood the animosity and was willing to forgive. Morgan, however, wasn’t too timid to hide her enmity. The malcontent was manifested by her hooded gaze and sporadic groans. It was annoying at first, but after Isolde realized that Morgan was several years her junior, the princess started to tolerate her presence.

Morgan kept her pink cotton dress on as she bathed. Isolde stripped until she was completely nude. Kanish and Balto tried their best not to peep but Isolde’s body was the very definition of exquisite. There wasn’t a single blemish, scar, or bruise on her sun-kissed body. Her breasts were full formed and smooth enough to cup steady in even the roughest of hands. Small dimples were perfectly indented above the derriere, and her toned midriff was smoother than a baby’s cheeks. As Isolde released her braids, her gorgeous hair flowed and bounced with a radiant glow. Balto glanced and was nearly floored by her beauty.

For Morgan, it only piqued her ire. Isolde reminded her of Elaine, blessed in all the ways she was not. Isolde and Elaine were both relatively tall with slim slender figures. Both had blonde hair and mesmerizing eye-smiles. Even when they were angry they projected heavenly grace. Whereas Morgan’s resting bitchface always prompted people to ask if something was wrong with her, a pastime she abhorred more than loneliness itself.

Haughty laughter in the distance signaled Pellinore’s return. Once the ladies were finished bathing, Pellinore, Tristan, Jeremy, Dantry, and Barxy swam nude. Pellinore kept trying to provoke Tristan with splashes but Tristan was too tired to strike back. Princess Isolde had confined herself to the cave hidden behind the veil of the cascade. She watched Tristan with an attentive gaze, giggling at the possibilities.

Morgan was now lounging on a smooth slab of limestone as she wrung out the fabric of her pink sunflower. She felt Gawain watching. Indeed, he was. As he prepared a deer for roasting, Gawain’s jade green eyes kept bouncing over to Morgan as if she was calling his name.

His heart thumped hard at the sight of her. For the young man, it was a dream come true. Few of her features were exactly as he remembered. Her deep alluring eyes, those mystifying long lashes. Her small mouth with kissable lips that remained so pouty and puckered. Unbeknownst to Morgan, she had developed in all the ways he found desirable. Her voluptuous figure of curves and concealed strength. The way excess water glistened off her ample thighs. The way her flawless snow-white complexion contrasted with her long, dark, brown hair.

Gawain took a mental picture of Morgan lounging on the rock with the roaring cascades casting a misty cloud under the setting sun. It was better than his dreams. This bliss…Gawain didn’t want it to end.

“It won’t take me long to make a new one. I’m not worried.”

Gawain caught the tail end of Gaheris speaking to Agravain. The younger brothers were waist-deep in water as they massaged wet stones over their shoulders.

“Not worried about what?” Gawain asked.

Agravain chuckled, “Gaheris broke the bow that he made for King Mark.”

Gawain burst with laughter. It was amazing to see how much they’ve grown. He had just finished skinning the deer when he heard the news of their baby brother, Gareth. Agravain elaborated by explaining how their mother Morgaus had married King Lot. Gawain was astounded to learn that they were now all princes of a foreign land called Lothian and Orkney.

“Of Lothian? Hack!” Pellinore interjected. “You might as well be heirs to the damn Picts the way Lot kisses up to the Romans.”

“What do you mean?” Gawain asked.

Gaheris explained, “Well, King Lot rules over Lothian and the northern islands of Orkney. We have over 10,000 men at arms but compared to Vortigern’s forces we’re merely toddlers playing at soldiers. To match manpower, Roman soldiers are loaned to us by Emperor Lucius. King Lot has to pay an annual tribute.”

Agravain added, “Gaheris and I were delivering a tribute last month when the emperor felt good enough to have us send messages along the battle lines in the war against the Franks. I swear it’s only a matter of time before he puts us in the vanguard.”

“Why you? Why send a squire on a knight’s errand?” Gawain questioned with low brows.

“They are princes, are they not? Comes with the price of eminence, boy. Best get used to it.” Pellinore scoffed as he stood up from the water and flaunted his manhood for all of nature to see.

For Gawain, it was a disquieting notion. He had just been liberated from one house and it appeared that he was about to be thrown into the conflict of another. He wondered how Morgan felt. He turned and caught her staring. As soon as they locked eyes, Morgan quickly averted. And much to Gawain’s chagrin, Morgan’s fleeing eyes settled on the naked ass of Pellinore. He was wading his way toward the cascades and the cave where Isolde was getting dressed.

“It’s not so bad. King Lot treats us alright,” Gaheris noted.

“And he’s kind to mother,” Agravain added.

“That’s great. Hey, Pellinore! Ho-How’s your son doing!?” Gawain quickly shouted in haste.

At once, all of the Black Bloods turned to Pellinore with a puzzled expression. Apparently they never knew he had a son. Taken aback by the question, Pellinore sank until the water reached the bottom of his chin and made his way closer to the brothers.

“Who told you I had a son?” Pellinore asked.

“You did. About seven years ago when we first met,” Gawain smirked.

“You have a son? You scoundrel! I thought you only had the two daughters?” Barxy asked.

“Aye, Percival’s my firstborn, a bastard from some peasant girl not far from Listenoise. Cries as much as his sisters. It drives me insane.”

The Slave Quarters: Chapter 8 – Majorettes (Mystery Thriller)

Posted by Rock Kitaro on September 23, 2018
Posted in: Cloud Beaudry, Slave Quarters. Tagged: , , , , , , . Leave a comment

Investigating KeNedra’s death, Cloud and Griffin interrogates her family and the high school majorette team she was a part of. Cloud works his magic, his gift of persuasion to try and get information out of the grieving mother, but Det. Griffin throws his weight around as an officer of the law, careless to tense history between African-Americans and law enforcement. Well…Cloud thinks its carelessness…until Griffin makes a provocative revelation that threatens to jeopardize the entire case.

Chapter 8 - Majorettes

Chapter 8: Majorettes
By Rock Kitaro

It’s a quarter past twelve when Griffin and I pull up to a middle class home in the subdivision of Coventry, only a fifteen-minute drive from the Waynesboro Plantation. I’m annoyed even before I’ve step out the car. As if the pending interview isn’t daunting enough, another nuisance has presented itself in the form of a rugged middle age hippy in a brown leather jacket, chain-smoking on cigarettes as he leans against his busted up yellow bug.

“Alright, now who the hell is this?” Griffin asks.

“Jimmy Coolidge. A persistent nut-job blogger working for one of Atlanta’s most widely read outlets. Mark, you’re looking at a man who thoroughly believes aliens walk among us. That’s Jimmy. Welcome to my life,” I groan before exiting.

Griffin’s never met the guy, but sticking to the “bro code,” he mirrors my displeasure. Jimmy’s scruffy appearance, from his ponytail, to his beer-stained eyes and that peach fuzz of a goatee…it’s like he forgot to fade along with the rest of the 70s. No, he didn’t forget. It’s more like he saw opportunities to throw a monkey wrench in the same corporate machines all his old friends sold out to.

He wheezes in his laughter, letting the cigarette drop from his fingertips before starting off in a jab-step approach. Griffin stops in the middle of the sidewalk and stares in bewilderment as if he was watching a mime performance. I’d like to continue on to the front door but halfway there, I have no choice but to turn around and confront the inevitable confrontation.

“Sir! You need to go.” Griffin says, pointing off down the street.

“Hey man. Hey. Hey. Hey. This is public property, fella. I’m not on the resident’s lawn. I have every right to be here. Hahaha! Howdy, Cloudy! See you caught yourself another doozy. Funny how these bizarre cases seem to keep falling right dab in your lap.”

This S.O.B… He’s way too loud to be spouting that crap. Exercising restraint, I approach Jimmy with my palms pressed as if I’m about to pray. Jabbing my spear-like hands at the center of his chest, I whisper, “What do you want, Jimmy?”

“Screw that. You don’t owe him a damn thing,” Griffin grunts.

Jimmy laughs, “He don’t know bout’ me, do he?”

“Oh no, you don’t know bout’ me!” Griffin asserts. “But you gonna find out real quick if you don’t get the fuck out of here.”

“I saw the suicide video,” Jimmy says. “Weird, right?”

“What the hell you talking about?” Griffin barks.

“The girl’s behavior. KeNedra. I’m here for the exact same reasons you are. I want to know if she’s displayed these strange signs before.”

“What are you talking about!?” Griffin barks as I play the buffer.

Jimmy snickers, “Cloud knows what I’m talking about. Look at him. It’s why he’s here too. He’s thinking the same thing I’m thinking. KeNedra Thompson was clearly possessed. That’s right! Possessed by an evil vindictive spirit. It’s the only thing that makes sense. Tell him, Cloud.”

I shoot my sights to the front of the house. I’m checking the blinds and the windows, scanning for any movement. I really hope no one heard Jimmy’s little theory otherwise the questions I had lined up would’ve been a completed waste of time.

“Are you insane?” Griffin asks him.

“Yes! Like I said!” I blurt out in an explosion of angry whispers. “Look, Jimmy. I don’t know how you got your dick-grabbing hands on that suicide video and I don’t want to make a thing of it. Right now, I need you to leave. You know me. If there’s anything crazy or supernatural, I’ll give it to you. All right? But right now you gotta let me do my job. Now, get the hell out of here. Please!”

Jimmy backs up with puckered lips as he returns to his jalopy. “Aight, Cloud. But hey! I’ll be around.”

“Supernatural?” Griffin asks as we watch Jimmy’s backfiring vehicle scoot off down the road. “You think KeNedra was possessed?”

“No. Of course not. That’s absurd.”

“Seriously, though. You don’t believe in that kind of crap do you?”

“Mark, I swear to you. I only believe what I see with my own two eyes.”

The Knights with No Lords: Chapter 7 – The Trossachs (Fantasy Fiction)

Posted by Rock Kitaro on September 20, 2018
Posted in: About the Author, Knights With No Lords. Tagged: , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

Fight! Battle breaks out as an angry horde of blue-painted Vikings pursue Gawain and Isolde through the thick of the woods. It’s an action-packed chapter where Gawain shows off his superior swordplay and Tristan, his Herculean strength. At last, Morgan and Gawain are reunited. And while it should be a joyous occasion…

Chapter 7- The Trossachs

Chapter 7 – The Trossachs
By Rock Kitaro

Racing for their lives, Gawain, Isolde, and the Hibernians scraped through wet leafy branches. A flood of furious Picts chased Isolde’s group through the wet woodlands of the Trossach. Three minutes felt like an hour. Isolde rode at the forefront with Gawain and Sir Ewangish right behind her. Five knights assisted from the rear but one of them was fading out from blood loss to an arrow wound.

King Drest’s four elite warriors in blue chalky paint were leading the charge and they were closing in. If Isolde had hesitated in deciding which path to take, the Picts would’ve overwhelmed them in less than ten seconds. It wasn’t until Gawain narrowly dodged his third low hanging vine that he realized Isolde had no idea where she was going. She was slowing down with doubt sinking in.

“YAH!” Gawain yelled as he spurred with intense fervor.

Gawain quickly sped up and took the lead. He wasn’t familiar with the Trossach woodlands but he was calm and collected, wise enough to follow the flow of water to avoid getting stuck at the dead end from some rising ground. The terrain fluctuated with gorges, steep hills, and drop-off cliffs. Rising tree roots could snag a horse’s hoof at any moment and the shallow ponds were actually veiled sinkholes. Dense vegetation made visibility poor. He could barely see beyond the sharp turns. Gawain knew it was only a matter of time before their luck ran out.

He spotted a glimmer of sunshine and followed the light. Within seconds, Gawain’s company emerged from the thick woods and into a clearing. It was a vast open meadow in the middle of the forest, an oasis of rich green grass and sunflowers.

Halfway across the meadow, another force came charging out of the tree line at full speed. These six newcomers were all suited in black armor with their leader wearing a flashy red scarf flowing from his neck. Gripped with fear, Gawain pulled on his reins for an abrupt stop. Princess Isolde and Ewangish struggled to do the same.

Pellinore raised his helmet visor and examined Gawain with the same bloodthirsty stare from the day they first met. They locked eyes for less than a second but time slowed as they gradually began to recognize each other. Pellinore was so impressive. His long serrated claymore was drawn and ready to carve into flesh. It wasn’t until Gawain noticed the pink vertical scar over Pellinore’s left eye that he was certain.

“Pellinore?!” Gawain shouted.

“HA! Found him!” Pellinore slurred with a thick wad of flying spit.

“Help us! Picts!” Gawain begged, pointing over his shoulders.

Pellinore looked and was instantly mesmerized by the boldness in Isolde’s sky blue eyes.

“Come on, boys! Let’s play!”

With that, the Brood of the Black Bloods stormed the Picts head on.

“You know this rabble?” Sir Ewangish asked.

“I believe so,” Gawain said, breathing hard but smiling with relief.

“Away!” the princess ordered.

Pellinore gripped his claymore with both hands as he charged between two of the blue elite warriors. Sweeping in a straight line, from left to right, Pellinore sliced through the pair with a powerful swing. The disemboweled bodies of his victims fell from their horses and Pellinore was just getting started.

Kanish, Balto, Jeremy, Dantry, and Barxy followed Pellinore to corral the Picts in an all-out melee. It was brutal. The six mercenaries fought like a well-oiled machine. Balto would wound a man and Kanish would follow up for the kill. Barxy was a bear the way he leapt from his horse to drag two soldiers down.

Jeremy and Dantry followed Pellinore into the thick of the forest. The Picts were losing men at a rapid pace and broke from a clustered group to spread out. Pellinore dismounted and gave chase.

Like a wolf on the prowl, he leaped over tree roots and stumps without skipping a beat. His intense gaze remained focused on the prey. And when Pellinore closed in, he threw everything he had into each swing, severing through sword, armor, flesh and bone. Jeremy and Dantry merely followed to put Pellinore’s victims out of their misery.

Isolde, Gawain, Ewangish and the four Hibernian knights continued south through the Trossachs. The woods were so dense. A web of slender but sturdy trees combed through their group and caused them to fan out. The enemy was coming from every direction and soon, the princess found herself surrounded with no ally in sight.

Suddenly, three wild-haired Picts came pouncing from the trees. They startled Isolde’s horse, causing it to rear up high in the air. She screamed and nearly had a heart attack, hanging on for dear life. The Picts groped and clawed at her cape, latching on to pull her down. Then, a flash of gold came dashing by.

Tristan, with his blond hair and rippling muscles came charging out of the bushes. He shattered a log over one savage. The remaining two jumped on his back, but Trisan easily hurled one to the ground and rammed his back against a boulder to crush the other.

Isolde’s horse was still bucking with fright when Tristan hurried over and grabbed the reins. He didn’t whisper or click his tongue to calm it down. He simply glared into the horse’s eyes with the snarl of someone who wasn’t opposed to adding horse meat to the menu. Needless to say, the horse calmed down.

The Slave Quarters: Chapter 7 – The Cotton Fields (Mystery Thriller)

Posted by Rock Kitaro on September 17, 2018
Posted in: Cloud Beaudry, Slave Quarters. Tagged: , , , , , , . Leave a comment

The GBI Agents arrive at the crime scene where KeNedra was held captive, where Tiquasia was murdered. The location is an abandoned cotton plantation on the outskirts of town. Ignited by his paranormal curse, Cloud sees exactly how Tiquasia was murdered. It’s an emotional experience but he has to keep it together. All eyes are on him. Not to mention, in order to convict, he still needs to gather that annoying thing called evidence.

Chapter 7 - The Cotton Fields

Chapter 7 – The Cotton Fields
By Rock Kitaro

It’s strange. In all the days since I’ve embraced the paranormal, I’ve never experienced anything quite like this. As soon as I step out of our rental car, a strong frosty breeze overwhelms me. I don’t wrap up in my coat as my colleagues do, instead I embrace the cold air to come in and wrap around my chest. The wind appears in the form of bending trees. The branches rustle in a perpetual wave.

What I found unusual is the ceaseless rhythm of gospel humming. It’s the soulful blues of people making the best of their hardship, their toil. It’s serene, the complete opposite of graves and cemeteries that usually come replete with screams and demented pleas.

As the investigators advance into the crime scene, an unbearable sadness prevents me. I close my eyes with a clenched jaw. Horrible things have happened at this place, terrible atrocities passed off as a way of life. Justice turned its back and ignored an entire class of people. They say, unless you’re black you could never understand the pain and suffering of a slave. I wonder if that applies to me…with what I see…with what I hear…with what I feel…

 

The Knights with No Lords: Chapter 6 – Auburn and Sapphire (Fantasy Fiction)

Posted by Rock Kitaro on September 14, 2018
Posted in: About the Author, Knights With No Lords. Tagged: , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

Things are starting to look up for Morgan as Pellinore, the fearless leader of a mercenary band has joined the group. Meanwhile, Princess Isolde holds negotiations with the Viking king of a Northern tribe. After confronting King Drest for killing one of her favorite knights, all hell breaks loose. Isolde is attacked.

Chapter 6 - Auburn and Sapphire - Artwork by Conor Burkeartwork by Conor Burke

Chapter 6 – Auburn and Sapphire
By Rock Kitaro

That night, a cheerful Morgan finally got a taste of what it was like to be her sister, Elaine. She was surrounded by ten, young, fearsome warriors who would sooner wreak havoc than let any harm come to her. The way they just so happened to run into Pellinore and his band of Black Bloods was nothing short of blind luck. Like the aligning stars, everything was working in her favor.

Seated around a campfire with lively banter, the party filled their stomachs with gamey meat and sterilized pond water. An exhausted Agravain and Gaheris kept nodding off as they leaned against each other. Meanwhile, Morgan continued to throw smirking glances at the strikingly handsome Pellinore as she mended a hole in Gaheris’s cape.

“All right, my prince. Out with it. How do you know this girl?” Kanish asked.

Pellinore smirked as he sharpened his claymore sword with a stone. “The first time I laid eyes on this one, she was but a spoiled little whelp. Mouthy and brash, no shred of discipline or respect.”

Gaheris and Agravain chuckled before Morgan quickly turned and poked their knees with her sewing needle. Gaheris fumed, ready to push her into the fire if Agravain hadn’t returned to resting his head on his shoulder.

“I was sixteen,” Pellinore continued. “Still running with Urien and the Knights of Gore. We were hunting a group of bandits. They attacked a small village and tried to get lost in the woods but once I sink my teeth in I don’t let go. This one was in the woods with Gawain doing God knows what but…I don’t know. There was something about the boy that I took a liking to.”

“Bullocks! You?” Jeremy jeered.

The Brood of Black Bloods expressed their disbelief but Pellinore raised his hands. “Don’t get the wrong idea, boys! I wasn’t all sunshine and warm milk at first. It’s just one of those moments where you have a feeling that there’s something different about a man. You can’t explain it. Some people have it. Others don’t. I tell you, there’s something special about Gawain. And when the boy took up the sword and ruined my flawless face, it was confirmed.”

Agravain suddenly perked up. “Gawain gave you that scar?!”

“He’s your big brother, is he? Well let me tell you, lads like him come in rare stock. At sixteen I was already a freak of nature. I even bested Tristan here in four out of ten matches. Everyone was afraid of me.”

“Still are!” Barxy laughed.

“That’s right! Haha! But your brother Gawain was different. Back then, I confess Morgan got under my skin and stamped on my honor.”

“She embarrassed you?” Gaheris asked.

“Yes, she embarrassed me,” Pellinore clarified. “You have to understand, if Tristan is the lion then I am the wolf. When I really get going, I can’t see straight. The blood under my skin feels like corrosive acid bubbling up like a bloody volcano. I need a release lest I explode and kill everything in sight!”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Tristan scoffed as he drank.

“What did I say, exactly? Do you remember?” Morgan asked.

“Aye, I remember. It was at a tournament. The people were booing me and I did not like that. Not one bit. So I called for an open challenge. I was ready to take on anyone dumb enough to come at me when all the sudden this little minx comes running onto the pitch. She says, and I quote, ‘my nephew Gawain can beat you, you big ugly ass!’” Pellinore recalled.

“Hear, hear!” Kanish shouted.

The Black Bloods and Morgan laughed out loud after Pellinore mimicked her childish voice. Even Tristan had to admit the sight of Pellinore’s lively reenactment was somewhat comical.

“Like it was yesterday, I remember. I can still see the boy half scared out of his mind. He was shaking, I tell you! Once I shouted, ‘ARE YOU OR ARE YOU NOT OF GORLOIS’S BLOOD!’ Oh it lit a fire in him! Twas like the fear melted away and in its place was the unflinching eyes of a hawk. That was Gawain. The boy had an exotic blade, foreign but deceptively sturdy. And I swear to you, I didn’t go easy on him. All of Tintagel was watching. They were laughing at me thanks to the girl. If crippling the boy was the price of their silence, I was ready to make pay!

“He tried to employ some bait and run tactic. I don’t know. It was silly. He was running all over the place like a damned jackrabbit. Extremely frustrating! I struck his armor, knocking him to the ground with each blow. I know it had to hurt like hell. The boy was only nine for craps sake. But somehow he managed to get back up. Then, it came to a point where we both extended for a full on straight-forward lunge. He didn’t have snowball’s chance in hell, but something happened! I can’t make this up. All the sudden my armor felt like it tripled in weight if just for an instance. I glanced down to see if my foot was caught on something and when I looked up, all I saw was the glint from Gawain’s sword slicing up my left eye.”

“OH!!!” The Black Bloods gushed in unison.

“Armor tripled in weight, huh,” Tristan said as he turned and cast his suspicion on Morgan.

Morgan bounced a single brow as if to say, “You’ve got no proof.”

“Anyway. After that, I learned not to underestimate the youth. Particularly the House of Gorlois. I always imagined Gawain would grow up to become king.”

Morgan was pleased to hear him say that.

“King of what?” Tristan asked.

“King of anything,” Pellinore answered. “In fact, if Gawain decided to take Cornwall, I might just help him do it.”

“You’re trying to goad me, Pellinore. I won’t fall for it.”

“What’s the matter, Tristan? Come to think of it, shouldn’t you be a knight by now? What’s the old man thinking? Doesn’t he trust you? I mean, you are the Champion of Cornwall. Whatever the hell that means.”

Tristan threw the rest of his water out into the fire causing a sizzle of steam that matched his brewing contempt. “You’re about to cross some lines, Pellinore. Don’t make me murder you in your sleep.”

“Wouldn’t be the first to try.”

“So, Kanish, is it?” Gaheris interrupted with an annoyed sigh. “What brought you to Pellinore’s employment?”

Kanish smirked, picking up on Gaheris’s diplomacy. “My prince Pellinore is not my employer. We are but six men who crave independence from this wretched world of betrayal and sunder.”

“Hear, hear!” Jeremy, Balto, Barxy, and Dantry all said in unison.

Kanish explained, “Two years ago some villains calling themselves knights entered my home, killed my wife, and raped her corpse. I caught them in the act and set the cabin ablaze with everyone inside. A mob was after my head when I ran into Balto and Pellinore. They helped me escape and I’ve been indebted to them ever since.”

“Why the Brood of Black Bloods? Who thought of such a horrid name?” Morgan asked.

“That’s a tragic story, Kanish. I’m sorry for causing you to remember,” Gaheris said as Morgan rolled her eyes.

“I came up with the name!” Pellinore said, answering Morgan’s question with pride. “It’s because metal runs through my veins turning my blood thick and black.”

“Yes. I love the significance, darling. It’s the name that’s ghastly. Why not simply, Black Bloods? Drop the ‘brood’ part. No one’s going to remember that. People will mock you behind your back,” Morgan predicted.

“And by ‘people’ she means just her,” Gaheris quipped, causing a round of laughter.

Oddly enough, Pellinore took Morgan’s criticism to heart. It hurt his feelings and the sadness was transparent. He caught Tristan staring and manned up quickly.

“When this is all over, you and me, we’ll settle the score,” Pellinore snarled.

“Challenge accepted,” Tristan grumbled.

“Alright, Spartans. We should get some rest. We’re close to the Picts and we’re bound to run into Gawain any day now,” Morgan said.

“And you’re certain of this?” Kanish asked.

Morgan smirked, “Don’t worry. A little bird told me.”

Agravain was already asleep in Gaheris’s lap.

The Slave Quarters: Chapter 6 – Pleasantries (Mystery Thriller)

Posted by Rock Kitaro on September 10, 2018
Posted in: About the Author, Cloud Beaudry, Slave Quarters. Tagged: , , , , , , . Leave a comment

Cloud and Jessica are returning to their hometown of historic Augusta, Georgia to investigate the Slave Quarter murders. It’s a complicated reunion on so many levels as Cloud has to get used to working with his old crush and an old enemy. Detective Mark Griffin is the lead working the Slave Quarter murders. He’s also the same officer who bungled his mother’s case five years earlier, prompting Cloud to take matters in his own hands and start down a bloody path, a path that’s relentlessly ate at Cloud’s conscience ever since.

Chapter 6 - Pleasantries

Chapter 6 – Pleasantries
By Rock Kitaro

“Kill Crystianne. Don’t forget!”

Maggie’s been whispering the same damn thing all night. I suppose she wanted to get in one last reminder just before daybreak. I’m sitting in the backseat while Jessica sits shotgun and Leanne drives like its Talladega on I-20.

It’s too early to be blasting AC/DC, but Leanne is amped up and excited. Remarkable. Her demeanor would have me believe we’re on our way to cash in free passes at an amusement park. She’s laughing at all of her own jokes, cutting off Jessica, and dominating the conversation with theories about the mainstream media being in the pockets of the Liberal politicians. Whether I agree with her or not is irrelevant. I only know that providing any feedback will only encourage her ceaseless oratory. Jessica, on the other hand, has yet to learn that critical lesson.

Leanne assumed Jessica and I were happy for our homecoming. She asks what it was like growing up in Augusta. And of course, as soon as Jessica opens up, Leanne cuts her off to talk about her own rough upbringing in New Port Richey, Florida. Yep, I get to hear replays of stories I’ve already heard as she narrates with the same spite about backstabbing boyfriends, an overbearing mother, and old co-workers who doubted she’d ever amount to anything.

In between bursts of laughter, Jessica sips from her coffee and glances back at me. She’s curious. She wonders if I’m always well groomed in my black slacks, blazer, and white collar. I’m not tired. I expect it to be a long day. There’s an energy shot in my bag just in case.

In my hands is a computer tablet. They think I’m taking the time to better acquaint myself with the case but that’s only half correct. In truth, I want to know what Det. Mark Griffin’s been up to since botching my mother’s homicide five years ago. I still remember it like it was yesterday. It was my crucible.

Back then, Det. Griffin had only recently transferred to the Athens Police Department. Taking that into consideration, I couldn’t place the blame entirely on him, not as much as I did his veteran partner. Det. John Hart was everything I hated about old school law enforcement. How they lingered to stereotypes and put everyone in a category. To Det. Hart, my mother was no exception.

Even at her funeral, I could hear Det. Hart calling my mother a whore who got what was coming to her. When they first questioned me, they made it point to bring up my family’s history with mental instability, reaching for that suicide theory, noting that no one in my family has ever lived past the age of forty-five. Then, days later, Det. Hart called himself trying to put me in my place when he told me he was closing the case and dared me to hit him. When I refrained, that fat bastard chuckled thinking he got the best of me. That was just an hour before I met Maggie.

I see…

It appears detective Hart and Griffin managed to botch another case not long after I graduated and left Athens. I scroll through the local news sites and learn that Det. Hart manufactured evidence to justify shooting an unarmed African-American. I guess he didn’t count on the rising trend of everyone taking out their camera phones. A neighbor recorded the whole thing.

Hart received a three-year sentence and was now bound to wheelchair in an assisted living facility after suffering a stroke in prison. The disgraced Det. Griffin transferred out of the precinct, somehow finding his way to Augusta of all places.

I should be satisfied but I’m not.

The Knights with No Lords: Chapter 5 – Companions (Fantasy Fiction)

Posted by Rock Kitaro on September 7, 2018
Posted in: About the Author, Knights With No Lords, online stories, Original Stories. Tagged: , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

Encroaching north into enemy territory, Morgan, Gaheris, and Agravain think they’ve found their beloved Gawain in a wagon full of slaves. The emboldened youngsters get involved and bite off more they can chew when a horde of soldiers come to reclaim their prize. And, of course, all hell breaks loose when Tristan catches up with them. The Lion of Dumnonia shows them all, what it means to be the king of beasts.

Chapter 5 - Companions

The Word Alive – “Epiphany” (fight music)

Chapter 5 – Companions
By Rock Kitaro

“Sing us a song!”

“No, Morgan. It’s the most annoying thing in the world,” Agravain grumbled.

“Why not? I thought that’s what soldiers do.”

“If you want music so bad, have at it,” Gaheris said as Agravain chuckled at the thought.

“Honestly, you two have got to be the dullest traveling companions ever.”

For six boring, uneventful days the three runaways rode hard and trekked hundreds of miles. So far, they’d managed to avoid confrontation and detection by traveling routes dictated by Morgan. They refrained from venturing out into open fields or flat lands, and instead confined themselves to the dense shrouded woodlands.

According to Morgan, certain areas of the forests enhanced her abilities. Of course, Gaheris was skeptical.

Three hours after sunset, the trio was still going strong. Normally, they would’ve hunkered down and sought shelter for the night. However, they were in the Woods of Frozen Dreams. The trees, rocks, and leaves were all encrusted in glowing baby blue crystals. The forest was riddled with small sinkholes full of milky turquoise water. They couldn’t ride their horses but had to guide them along narrow pathways to avoid plunging in.

Everything was so bright and gleaming that they could scarcely see without squinting. It would have been impossible to get any sleep until they left the forest, thus, they proceeded along a snake-winding trail that was just wide enough for two men to stand abreast.

Gaheris was still annoyed but he stopped griping days ago. Now it seemed as if Agravain had picked up the slack in that department because he was kicking at every crystal that stuck out at him. He kicked one pierce so hard that a chunk flew off and hit Morgan in the back of her head. She immediately turned around and started slapping him with the leather straps of her medicinal bag.

“Alright, alright. Keep moving. I want to get some sleep before sunrise,” Gaheris said as he nudged Morgan along.

“This was a horrible idea. There’s no end to this blasted forest! How do we even know we’re going the right way?” Agravain complained.

“I told you! The Hibernians make seasonal trips into the heart of Pictish territory. It’s our best bet. Also, believe it or not, but I’m drawing power from these crystals. I can feel it coursing through my veins. It’s making me sweat, actually. Damn! Are you guys hot?” Morgan said as she wiped under her neck.

“What are your powers, exactly? You know, besides possessing dogs to jump off cliffs,” Gaheris asked.

Rolling her eyes, Morgan divulged. “These concoctions I’m wearing around my bosom produce a variety of effects. The sand trap, as you already witnessed. I also have one that causes temporary blindness, one for paralysis, another for attracting hens for food, and another for convincing men they’re on fire.”

“Dear god,” Gaheris cringed.

“The rubies around my wrist were made from dragon tears. If I concentrate, I can conjure a scorching fire that burns scarlet red. I’m still a novice with my other abilities but I’m getting better. For instance, I once summoned a spell that gave me the strength to uproot a maple tree. Although I confess, I hate that enchantment. My back hurt like hell for days. I can cast illusions when people are at their worst. I can speak commands and understand almost every woodland creature if I put forth an effort. And unlike Merlin who can only see the future, I can peer into the past. That’s just for starters. Niviane says I have the potential to surpass even her,” Morgan boasted.

“Niviane is?” Gaheris said.

“The Lady of Lake Avalon. Over 400 years old and the greatest wizard the world’s ever seen. It’s who my mother’s been shipping me off to visit every summer for the past three years. Even Merlin can’t hold a candle to Niviane.”

“Is that why you killed my dog? Because of this inexplicable malice for Merlin the magician?” Gaheris barked.

“This again…” Morgan sighed.

“Silence!” Agravain hissed “Enemy afoot!”

With the jut of his chin, Agravain called attention to a horde of blue goblins feeding on the carcass of an ill-fated mule. They were three hundred yards out. These goblins had skinny bodies like skeletons with reflective fish scales, long pointy ears and razor sharp claws. Ten of them were feasting while six others were trying to mate.

Their options were limited. Goblins were vicious creatures that could turn hostile in an instant. They were more agile than spider monkeys so outrunning them in the web of downed branches and razor sharp vines was suicidal in and of itself. The brothers had the same thought. They didn’t have to discuss it. Years of fighting side-by-side rewarded them with that kind of telepathy. In unison, the brothers stepped out in front of their horses and prepared for battle.

“Wait!” Morgan smirked with anticipation. “Let me show off a little.”

Morgan spread out her arms and twirled her fingers towards two sinkholes of milky water flanking the sides of the trail. As she blew in through her lips with a whirling suction, a gust of wind howled, shaking the tree branches and causing a shower of crystals to rain down.

The goblins were spooked. At once, they stopped feeding and started rambling with a confused “hoobling” noise. They turned and spotted the humans. Flashing their fangs, the goblins set off running like apes, pounding the ground with their knuckles and flat boney feet.

Agravain drew his Roman broadswords while Gaheris stretched an arrow through his bow. Morgan whispered an incantation that spewed from her lips like a gust of white frosty air. The powdery air twirled and split into two threads, quickly flowing through her outstretched fingers and down into the sinkholes of milky turquoise water. After bubbling for two seconds, geysers erupted straight up, causing the brothers to recoil with fright.

Water rushed up and gathered to form a massive dome. It remained hardened for only a few seconds before streaming down and materializing into six fearsome warriors riding on the backs of winged stallions. These were enchanted horsemen controlled by Morgan’s own mind. They were solid and chiseled as if carved from dripping wet blue marble.

These magnificent horses neighed with a vibrating siren that sent shockwaves throughout the entire forest. With the fury of madmen, the warriors flew down the trail directly into the midst of the goblin. Morgan moved like a possessed dancer the way she shimmied her hips and twirled with the fingers of a puppet master.

The goblins screamed and shrieked as the warriors fought them with fearsome barbarity. Some managed to evade the low sweeping swords. These angry goblins continued on towards the trio and Agravain was more than willing to engage.

With a sword in both hands, Agravain dashed with bloodlust and excitement. The goblins attacked with sharp claws and powerful jaws, but Agravain was too swift, too nimble, too skilled. His swords had a mind of their own the way they found exposed limbs and hacked at joints. Hard thrusts and stabs were aimed at the core, and he didn’t hesitate for a second to mete out his own coup-de-grâce.

Meanwhile, arrows whistled by Agravain’s ear as a few goblins were sniped from a distance. Gaheris was picking them off one by one. His hand was steady, his eyes unblinking. Gaheris was a sentry, standing guard as Morgan continued her magical dance.

From his left, two screaming goblins sprung from the bushes in a loud shatter and a burst of blue dust. Gaheris calmly turned and shot the closest one in its face. He used his bow to parry the claws of the second goblin and countered by hip tossing it to the ground. Pinning the creature with a knee to its back, Gaheris promptly drove an arrow through the base of its skull. By the time he looked to check on his brother, it was over.

Dead goblins were strewn about. The winged horsemen had returned to puddles and Agravain was wiping sticky blood off of his swords with the tail end of his cloak. Morgan seemed pleased. She was glistening with sweat and panting with bated breath.

“Not bad,” she said with pride.

– Click to Continue Reading

The Slave Quarters: Chapter 5 – The Next Case (Mystery Thriller)

Posted by Rock Kitaro on September 5, 2018
Posted in: About the Author, Cloud Beaudry, Original Stories, Slave Quarters. Tagged: , , , , , , . Leave a comment

On the outskirts of Augusta, Georgia, the bodies of five young women are found on the slave quarters of abandoned plantations. Initially, Jessica Arroyo and Leanne Donaldson of the Georgia Bureau of Investigation are assigned to investigate but Cloud insists on getting involved. It’s not that he doesn’t trust the ladies to handle a case of this magnitude, but he recognizes the name of the local lead detective. The last thing he wants is for history to repeat itself.

Chapter 5 - The Next Case

Chapter 5: The Next Case
By Rock Kitaro

It’s half past one when I return to the 4th floor of GBI headquarters. It looks like Jessica has claimed the cubicle next to Leanne, just one seat away from me.

…Splendid…

While I was at the library, Leanne gave Jessica the grand tour of GBI facilities. Leanne went to great lengths to impress the new recruit with her clout and extensive knowledge of statistics. They seem to have hit off like old besties united.

Jessica…It’s been five years but I can tell the prime of your life will carry well into your fifties. From her awkward smile and kind laughter, Jessica’s already figured out that Leanne’s inappropriate workplace humor doesn’t just stop at the occasional one-liner. Like everyone else, Jessica made up her mind to get used to it. Wise, Ms. Arroyo. Very wise. You have indeed matured. And here I am, gawking at you from the hallway with hooded eyes like a hungry velociraptor stalking a foolhardy zookeeper.

“You’ll get used to how loud everyone is on the phone. And if you really need to get away, I usually step into one of the conference rooms. Hahaha! You might need to do that from time to time,” Leanne says, speaking twice as loud as everyone else.

Jessica is still unpacking to decorate the cubicle as she replies with, “That’s good to know. I’m not too worried about it. I grew up in a house full of women. You had to learn to sleep through loud raggae-ton playing all hours of the night. This doesn’t even compare.”

“Oh? So you have a big family?”

“Oh yes!” Jessica says as she sets a picture of herself and another young woman.

“Is that your sister?”

“My baby Angel. Haha, literally. Her name is Angel. She’s starting her final semester at Georgia Tech.”

“Kudos! I have sisters. But ones a stingy bitch and the others a coke whore. So what are you going to do?” Leanne says as if she’s talking about spilled milk.

“Oh! That’s not good,” Jessica says, keeping her chin tucked to hide her high brows.

“Tell me about it! I was on assignment when my mom died two years ago and by the time I came back, these airheads had already squandered our inheritance on a busted up house on the Southside. They wanted to flip it and turn a profit. But really, what they meant was that they wanted me to do all the work, hire the contractors, coordinate with HOA. Girl! I don’t have time for that?” Leanne says, giggling at the absurdity.

“So what did you do with it?” Jessica asks.

“I fixed it up a little and let them live in it. They’re paying rent until I recover on the construction costs.”

“Very smart!” Jessica nods with an approving grin.

“That’s right. I might be an old bird but I still know how to make lemonade out of life! Hahaha!” Leanne boasts.

“You’re not old, Leanne,” I say, approaching with sweat beginning to muster.

The ladies turn in unison. The instant I lock eyes with Jessica, time stops. Sparks fly and that warm sensation of heartfelt adoration washes over. That’s not to sound romantic. I’m not trying to be romantic. I’m trying to stay on my guard. My poker face is rock solid. I don’t know what she’s been up to all these years and I don’t want to give her the upper hand by showing all my cards like I used to.

However, this is unexpected. Here I am, thinking some unsettled dispute would surface. But Jessica’s caring eyes settle on me with such joy. It’s like she actually missed me. A snort escapes from her cupped laughter before the woman glides over and wraps me in an embracing hug. So warm. Her smooth cheeks press against mine. I feel the air in her lungs, the heartbeat against my chest. Even as I raised my arms to hug her back, I exercise caution. My palms graze the toned muscles in her back ever so lightly and I confess, I simply melt.

“What uh…what’s going on here?” Leanne asks as she and several onlookers were dying to know.

Jessica releases me. I straighten out my blazer and try to get a hold of myself.

“I’ve known Cloud since forever. He’s like the brother I never had. Seriously, he’s probably the most decent man I’ve ever met. You probably noticed, right? Let me guess. Annoyingly polite. Always apologizing. Self-sacrificing. The kind of guy who would give up the last chair just so you could sit. The epitome of chivalry. I’m sorry! Hahaha! I’m just so happy to see you! I can’t believe it!” She says, cupping her mouth with jovial laughter.

“Jessica. Good grief,” I mutter in a deep blush.

The office curiosity is satisfied. Her description of me settles in their mind that I’m locked in the “friend-zone,” an idea they’re more than willing to tolerate.

The Slave Quarters: Chapter 4 – My Equal (Mystery Thriller)

Posted by Rock Kitaro on September 3, 2018
Posted in: About the Author, Cloud Beaudry, Slave Quarters. Tagged: , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

The brilliant Jessica Arroyo has just transferred into Cloud’s unit at the Georgia Bureau of Investigation. Ever since he was fifteen he’s had a crush on this girl who’s bested him at everything he wanted to accomplish. Back in high school she was the valedictorian. The popular girl who could get any man she wanted while he was the odd bookworm voted most likely to shoot up the school.

Now…she’s back in his life again. Cloud isn’t the man he used to be and he’s still got business with Maggie. In his heart of hearts, Cloud knows Jessica’s inquisitive enough to figure out what he’s been up to for the past five years. It’d be a shame, really. If something were to happen to her.

Chapter 4 - My Equal
The Slave Quarters
By: Rock Kitaro

“Jessica Arroyo is a woman who…”

It’s odd. How to describe her? My honesty opinions and the facts might disagree with each other. So I opt to tell Miranda everything and trust that she’ll understand and tell it to me straight.

“As you know, I don’t particularly have a fond opinion of my fellow Millennials. I believe we are easily influenced. I believe we are forgetful of significant history. And I believe we think we are selfish individualists who refuse to see the big picture if it goes against our own personal ambitions. That being said, I don’t see myself as one of them. You’re probably the only person I’ll admit this to, but yes, I honestly do think most Millennials are beneath me. However, there is but one of my fellow peers who I can honestly say I see as my equal. Her name is Jessica Arroyo.”

“And she is?”

“An infection, a persistent virus that never truly leaves the body. It’s only suppressed and contained by isolation and time away from irritant exposure. Jessica and I graduated from the same school, always competed academically. I’ve had a crush on her since I was fifteen, which was depressing as I watched her date asshole after asshole. She was one of the most popular girls in the school, magically excelling at everything while I was the fat loser who kept my nose buried in the books. If that’s not bad, she even beat me out to take the valedictorian spot while I was salutatorian. And to make matters worse, by pure friggin happenstance, she ended up attending the same college, enrolling in the same programs, same classes, the same degree. It was horrible. Alright, it wasn’t horrible, but it was tormenting.”

“I’m confused. Are you jealous of her? Or are you in love with her?” Miranda asks, making light of the predicament.

“Neither! I think every man has a certain point in which they’ve seen the love of their life passed between too many dudes. That ship has sailed.”

Miranda starts to snicker but I continue in a mindless prattle.

“That ship has sailed! Moreover, beauty like that has a way of ensnaring a man. The problem resides in the fact that, like me, she’s a natural born detective. You should have heard her thesis in our criminology classes. With every answer she gave, it’s like she was taking the words right out of my mouth. People always seem to be so puzzled. It confounds them to understand the motives of killers and con artists, but like me, Jessica just gets it. This leads me to believe that beneath her happy-go-lucky façade, her heart is just as dark as my own. She’s just better as hiding it.”

“I’m telling you, Miranda. Her immense beauty belies the fact that she is extremely intelligent. She knows me. More than that, she always used to think we were friends, which freaking sucks because it’s with types like that where if you push her away it’ll only create more questions in which she won’t stop until she gets to the bottom of it. She was there the morning after Maggie’s first kill. She was there when I came back from my mother’s funeral. If I’m not careful…”

…I want to say I might have to get rid of her but I refrain.

“Sounds like all this went down years ago. What? Is the bitch back?”

“Yes. Leanne’s probably finishing up the grand tour as we speak. I saw her, Miranda. She’s still so flawless,” I say, utterly hopelessness.

Miranda chuckles over her lime soda. “It ain’t easy being Cloud Beaudry, is it? Would you like my advice?”

“Please,” I invite with open palms.

“Sounds to me like you just need to get it out of your system. Hit that once and you’ll be all right. Trust me. Won’t even look at her the same way.”

It’s not what I wanted to hear.