Posted in Short Stories on October 9, 2016 by dankline2000


By: Dan Kline


It’s quiet; no sounds permeate the air, not the footsteps of my soldiers making their rounds upon the parapet walls, not the echo of their booted feet walking the halls of the manor house. I cannot even hear the whispered breathing of my wife as I lay here in my bed, eyes shut trying in vain to hear anything, anything at all.

It’s wrong all wrong to hear nothing in a house that earlier this evening was roaring with the sounds of merry making, drunkards telling tales of past glory, serving women giggling as the soldiers of my guard pinch them on their bottoms, the endless drone of conversation. But now not even the sounds of insects stirs this dark night, no rats scurrying from hiding place to hiding place with their ill-gotten gains from the night’s festivities. I know I should get up, I know that this unnatural silence is keeping me right where I am. Is this but a dream? Should I yell for my guards, or should I just stay where I am and hope this is all just a dream. But for the silence I know I have to do something.

I lay there taking stock of my body, testing my limbs, my toes, fingers and neck. Small movements to see if a spell has been laid upon me. Each part moves, small, slow even moves, trying my best not to disturb the covers that lay upon me. I try to remember where I have laid my sword; I know it is not far it never is. There beside the red velvet chair by the window, is the window open, is that a breeze I feel coming in from the dark outside? No, just the imagination of a half scared fool woken in the night by who knows what.

Glas (Grey) Scath (Shadow) you need to move, you need to investigate this silence, if it is a dream then the mages tell me that is a foretelling of events to come, and yes even in your dreams you can and will die, just as in real life. It needs to be done, but not in my night clothes. Slowly as a mouse sneaking past a cat I move first my right leg, slowly from beneath the covers, I move my whole body in the same way hoping, praying to the Gods that I make not a sound. Finally I raise my entire bod to my feet and for the time I open my eyes and slowly look at my surroundings. I stifle a gasp I am alone in my bed chamber, my wife not in her usual place in the bed beside me, it looks as if she never even made it to bed. I walk in my bare feet to the red velvet chair and pick my sword up, thank the Gods my clothes from the night before are in the same place. But that finery is no good for moving around an empty manor house in the dark, especially if it has been invaded or ensorcelled by a spell of some sort. I do pull on my breeches and walk towards my armoire knowing that more suitable clothing is inside. Slowly I open the chest, hoping against hope that the hinges don’t squeal. Inside lay the clothing I use to scout when I hunt, dark green leather pants, tan shirt of a home spun quality, dark green long vest and black knee high boots and to my pleasant surprise my short word and hunting knife, almost a short sword itself.

I fasten my bastard sword across my back the hilt reaching just above my left shoulder for easy access, my short sword upon my right hip and the hunting knife on my left. Before shutting the door to the armoire I notice one more thing, my leather bracers that hide in each four slender throwing knives tapered to a point sharp enough to pierce steel with round finger holes on the other end, I lean inside and grab both and cinch the ties that hold them to my wrists. This is not my plate armor, but much better for stealth, honestly clanking around in this silent tomb of a home in plate would only get me killed. This way I can move silently, swiftly and come to the bottom of this mystery. I glance again at the bed wondering where my beloved Catalanach (Carrie) is and if she is unharmed and safe. God’s help any who may have done my love harm. Tearing my gaze from the bed I make my way across the bedchamber to the door pausing I put my ear to the door, silence there is nothing to hear but silence.

Knowing what I must do no matter the consequences I turn the door knob slowly, knowing that as many times as I have kicked this door in to take my beloved Cat to bed and make love to her, it squeaks, groans and generally complains every damn time you open it. Finally the knob turns the full way I crack the door slightly listening so intently that I could hear a mouse fart two floors down. But nothing is to be heard in the hall outside, open the door slowly, if you remember it is extremely cantankerous and borderline obnoxious as well. I open the door only part of the way turning my head in the direction it opens and look down the hall, hells the lamps and candles are all out, not one of them with flame, total darkness. This smells of sorcery, magic the bane of our world, some use for good, most use it for evil foul deeds.

I step into the hall easing my sword from the sheath on my back, yes I should have done it while was in my bed chamber but with all the strangeness of the night and the fact I am scared witless I forgot. I make my way down the hall using the left hand side running my left hand along the wall, one would think that I would know my own home but this no longer feels like my home and I am taking no chances. I can only see about five feet in front of me and I don’t know the situation so caution is advised. I am on the upper level of the manor house and only my personal guards and servants live up here, but I hear no other noise as I creep through my own house, or is it my house still? I come upon my wife’s chamber maid’s room, I stop put my ear to the door and listen, nothing. I grip the door know easing it slowly to the right, pushing as I turn it opens a short distance. I pause and listen again, nothing, no breathing, no rustling of the bed clothes. Slowly I push the door open and step inside. I walk slowly towards the bed in case the woman is actually in bed sleeping, all I need right now is to wake her and set her to screaming bloody murder in the dark. The closer I get to the bed I see the same as with my wife it looks as if she never made it to bed, the bed clothes are not mussed in any as a matter of fact the bed looks freshly made. Odd though I catch a whiff of anise and thorn apple with what little I know of magic is used for protection, curious. But another clue as to what is happening in my home. Perhaps they have all been turned invisible the ingredients grow wild around the manor house, probably wishful thinking on my part. Time to move on, I walk back to the door which I left open and again I look down the hall this time getting a look both ways. Curious the hall only smells of dust, not the same smell as in the chamber maid’s room. I step into the hall going left again knowing in my mind that the stairs leading to the lower level are this way and also my personal guards room, laid out in a small garrison type area which has a main room and four sleeping rooms so that four guards are on patrol day and night. Men I handpicked from over one thousand men from my soldiers. Again making my way down the left side of the hall keeping my sword hand free, passing many rooms I only pause to listen I don’t enter each room. I am making my way to my guard’s room to see what, if anything I find there. Issue, it is on the right hand side of the hall. I reach the guards room passing door after door and hearing nothing but the sound of silence. I stand across the hall from the door listening but hearing nothing, I fear for these men, if something bad has happened and so far that is my thinking I know they would die to the last man to protect me and my wife. Gathering my courage I cross the hall, damn why does the hall have to be so wide, I can’t even see the other side of the hall or the door. Finally after what seemed and eternity I reach the door, this door I know makes no noise so I turn the handle and ease the door open listening the whole time and hearing nothing. I enter the room and find it in much the same condition as the others, empty but there are half empty mugs of ale on the common room table along with plates of half eaten food. It’s as if they just got up and left the manor house. Knowing I must check each sleeping room I move to the first door, easing it open the smell hits me as soon as the door is cracked, death, blood and decay assaults my senses like a blow to the head. I open the door fully trying in vain not to retch at the smell and find that the men who were sleeping had been butchered in their sleep, both men’s throats have been cut almost completely through, both men have been disemboweled the contents of their stomachs, lungs and innards ripped from their bodies and slung about as if a child were at play. My hand tightens upon my sword as I approach the first man, Daibhidh (David) I have known this man since I was a child. He was the man who was my swordsmanship teacher and one of the first men I picked for my personal guard, no one in the whole country could have bested this man with a sword. But here he lays in apparent slumber his body ripped open from breast to navel his innards scattered about the room. I approach the bed of the man who was my mentor. I stop two steps towards the body, the hair on the back of my neck standing straight up, bringing my sword to bear as a mist rises from the man I called friend. The mist coalesces into the form of the once live man. Glas, the disembodied voice says this is not a dream, you are alive and foul deeds have been done to the good people of this house. You must reach the lowest level, screeching, crying out in pain the mist vanishes before my eyes only to leave the lifeless corpse still laying in its bed. Fighting my revulsion I lean over to place a goodbye kiss upon this brave man’s forehead, my lips brushing his brow in a silent goodbye. Rising up I notice something odd, his heart is missing and in its place a type of crystal in the same shape as his real heart. I walk over to the man in the next bed and see the same, yet every other room on this level thus far has been empty. Except the guards room, that and these men’s missing hearts that have been replaced by a crystal of some sort leaves me as clueless as when I first awoke in this nightmare. No it is a clue and I will find out what happened, I will go from room to room, level to level and get to the bottom of this mystery.

I turn to leave these men in peace, I hope, promising that their deaths will not be in vain. What was done to these men, why was it done and who was he evil person that did it. I will tell you I did not smell anything other than death in those rooms, I did not check the other rooms knowing that if I did I would find the same in each room, death.

So what, do you have an answer?????

Posted in Anger, Anxiety, Depression, DID, Fatherhood & Family, Guilt, PTSD on September 5, 2016 by dankline2000

There is no winning or losing, you either want to wake up in the morning or you don’t, and if you can’t find a way to live with yourself well then why run away from it. Why because I don’t want to die, I want to live, not survive but live. But if you can’t find a way to do that, then you’re fucked. This, this right here, right now in this instance, this very fucking second in my life is not living; fuck it this isn’t even existing. So fuck it I’m done running because I’m having one fucking hell of a time living with myself. All my reasons are gone, my son doesn’t want anything to do with me and no one and not even my son will tell me what the fuck I did. I have gone through so many scenarios of what if’s with that, that I can’t even tell you what fucking day of the god damn week it is. I can’t pay my way in this fucking messed up self-centered world because my work just tells me it’s coming this is just the calm before the storm, I got no fucking food in my house to eat you stupid fuckers. I can’t even force myself to give two shits about a fucking thing. Fuck work, bills, family, friends, and this fucking world in general. I’m fucking sick of the struggle, don’t you see that? I’m fucking sick of worrying about the day to day mundane fucking bullshit like bills, food, work, relationships (ya it’s so fucked up I had to say it twice), all of it is so fucking tiring that I don’t fucking care anymore. I keep asking for help, it never comes so why, tell me why shouldn’t I just give the fuck up? To think I was a fighter, what a fucking joke. All I am is tired, lost and in need of just one, one thing to see me through, rest….. Honestly in your heart you wanna wake up tomorrow and the next day because that day, that day right there might just be the best fucking day of your life, probably just stick around and see, but in this case you might just want to have faith. It’s just too fucking bad I have been proven wrong on this account too many times.

Fuck it all,

Dan Kline


Posted in Uncategorized on August 29, 2016 by dankline2000

0ebf26dcbe448fd3762eb3339c82f43dEveryday the same as the last, neither moving forward, nor even moving back. Just the same empty existence day in and day out. Its a struggle just to survive, not knowing how you are going to get through the day, never having enough to eat, fearing for a place to live, not knowing if the lights will still be on when I wake from that pitiful thing called sleep, not understanding that the harder I try the worse it gets. No one to turn to, no one actually really cares if you wanted to know. Empty, afraid, angry at not being able to control my own life, and honestly I really don’t fucking care anymore. If you wanted to know if I have reached out to anyone, well of course I have. But in the end they had no answers to my riddles of how to go from non-existent to existing, to more than existing. I have to ask myself if anyone really has the answers to my questions, I have asked God, I have asked a man whom I have known for over 20 years, an intelligent man to say the least. But still no answers, so I am here to tell you all I am so fucking tired of the struggle just to get from day to day, hour to hour and minute to minute. I have tried so hard not to give up, but on this I give up. No one, no one on this earth will honestly listen, h but they give the look, you know that look of pity, most of the times mixed with is this guy crazy, maybe a little dangerous. It’s okay people I’m only dangerous to myself.

Ask me how I got here again and I might tell the story, but at another time. I have used up my emotional and metal energy allotment for the day.

With much love and gratitude,

Dan Kline


Posted in Uncategorized on August 26, 2016 by dankline2000



Posted in Uncategorized on August 23, 2016 by dankline2000

These are the hours that pray on me most, those hours where it seems I have nothing to do but think. Thoughts racing in and around my mind, my body wandering from room to room only to find myself in the same rooms, same places, same thoughts in my mind. I can’t escape this merry go round of self-recrimination this ride of self-doubt, fear and hurt. Again I have come full circle right back to where I began this journey, knowing full well in my mind where this leads, we all know where this leads.The realization has come to me that I will forever be lonely, that all I can do is hurt the ones I love and cherish with these people that walk around with me in my head. I am alone with them forever, and forever they will be with me. I wonder do I let them rule me again, do I let the anger out, let the mother try to soothe me? Do I let the warrior and survivor take control or rather do I run and hide in the corner like the little boy? I cannot answer these questions for myself, I will just have to wait and see the end of the story, and you all know that every good story has a beginning, a middle (that hasn’t worked out so well) and an end. I am not at the beginning, and I can only assume I am in the middle headed towards the ending.

With much love and gratitude,

Dan Kline


Posted in Uncategorized on August 15, 2016 by dankline2000

True story, I remember when I was younger, can’t really remember what age but I do remember the time like it was yesterday. My Father had been stationed in Coba Roho Bay, Puerto Rico at the time and it was time for us to move stations. Wow, well we were never told our next destination because I am pretty sure we all would have started a revolution. Minnesota, freaking Baudette, Minnesota, 6 miles from the Canadian border, don’t ya know. Yep there we were getting off a plane straight from Puerto Rico in Minneapolis, Minnesota in January, right smack dab in the middle of winter. Get this picture here we are getting off the plane in shorts, t-shirts and flip flops (yes I did wear shorts at one point in my life). It was well below zero in that there city of the apolis, and people were staring at us like we had lost all sense of reality, not so sure they weren’t right. My father had to go right there in the airport and buy us all winter jackets, why? Well because our entire luggage was more than likely in a different country, because it sure wasn’t there. That’s how my life went in Minnesota, but it did get better. Now imagine if you will snow, I’m not talking about the couple of inches we get here in Kentucky, I’m talking the snow piled up on the edges of the streets were taller than I am now. My first winter in Baudette was filled with so many new things, snow only being a part of it. I want to tell you about my moose experience, yes moose. See Baudette is a small community and we lived in the woods, lots of woods and lots of snow. One day my cousin Kevin and all of his family were visiting (sounds like a normal life right?) and real quick me and Kevin got bored, so out the door and into the woods we went and we didn’t go far, that is until we saw these tracks in the snow, they were huge, bigger than Kevin’s and my feet heel to toe big, pretty big, right? Well see there was something weird about these tracks, well they had long oval shapes in the back and two little dots in the front, and I mean what the hell makes that kind of foot print or track. So we started following the tracks and man they went everywhere but we just couldn’t figure out what could make tracks that big, was it a deer? No I knew what they looked like, and it was anything dangerous, because really what could be dangerous and make those kind of screwed up tracks. Then it hit us out of the blue, a moose, it had to be a moose that made those tracks, they were huge and well moose are huge I had seen them on TV. So we ran back to the house and told my father and Uncle Sam (Kevin’s Dad) what we had found and that they needed to come quick because we would lose the moose if we didn’t hurry. So there we were retracing our own tracks to find the moose tracks so we could show them. And there they were right there where we left them, so we showed them to our fathers and they walked around the tracks and then kneeled down and poked around in the tracks, the whole time telling they were not sure what kind of tracks they were so we would have to follow the tracks and see for ourselves this mysterious moose we had been tracking for several hours. So with them in tow we headed out and we searched and searched until my father stopped us, told us to be quiet and just wait. And we did now it might have only been a few minutes but to us it seemed like hours. My father pointed to a bunch of dead bushes and said wait, just wait. Oh my god are you kidding me we have been waiting for freaking ever when out of the brambles……. Hops out a snow shoe rabbit. Yep we had been tracking a rabbit for hours thinking it was a moose. Welcome to Minnesota city boy, lol.


Posted in Uncategorized on August 3, 2016 by dankline2000

When I was a kid we had this thing, issue or wrong doing if you will, let’s call it “THE WAITING”. Now I’m sure that this brings to mind all sorts of things so I will explain. As we all know my father was a monster, literally a fucking monster. This waiting came into being from this literal monster. It started out like this, a week maybe, ten days tops my father would do things with us, go places, and teach us really cool stuff. But then at the end of that unspecified time period it would happen, the beatings, the verbal, physical and sexual abuse that comes to mind every time I even say the word father. In the beginning my brother and I were like this is cool Dad is actually doing things with us, he loves us, NO HE DOESN’T. It was a setup, the proverbial waiting for the other shoe to drop and after time we could predict when this would happen and even prolong the inevitable, but in the end it always happened. I didn’t realize that this followed me into my adult life in the form of this. Every time things are going well for me, things are going in a direction that I want, no wrings are done, job fine, wife and kids wonderful. Then I would do it to myself, I would cause the WAITING and I would run, I would get angry at the drop of a pin. In the end it has cost me my marriage. I really didn’t understand what I was doing till after all the fallout that I had caused myself, my wife and my children. But I cannot explain it to them, they don’t want to listen. I didn’t figure it out till my whole world had fallen down, and it still keeps falling. I wanted someone to listen; I wanted the chance to explain. I’m not going to get that because of the WAITING. I don’t wait anymore; I have hopefully changed that part of my life. I don’t run away, I still get scared but I don’t do the things I used to do when it felt like the WAITING. I had to tell someone.


With much love and gratitude,