Archive for the Short Stories Category


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.

I Ride…..

Posted in Alters, Anger, Anxiety, Depression, DID, ME, PTSD, Short Stories, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , on August 20, 2013 by dankline2000

1167883-bigthumbnailI ride, the wind whipping my hair back from my face, riding so fast and hard that tears stream from my eyes as the wind is forced into them. The horse underneath me exhales like the bellows of a blacksmith’s furnace surging forward like the very storm I am riding into. I see the storm, clouds of dark purple and black clouds hanging low to the earth, light flashes in thick jagged lines across the front as I race towards it. I know what I am doing is almost certain death but I am ready, or as ready as I will ever be. I can feel the temperature of the air the closer I get the colder it gets, wrapping around my body looking for spaces between my armour to get at the flesh beneath, the closer to the storm the very air around me becomes filled with shards of ice, quickly I summon to me the words of protection that will keep most of the cold away, as I say them they are whipped from my mouth by the force of the wind, but still the words have worked and the feeling of coldness leaves my body. I am not warm but I know I will not freeze to death before I reach you. The closer to the storm I get I can see the runes etched into my armor begin to flicker with the comforting pale lavender light that is all that protects me from the ravages of this nightmare I have been living.

Racing towards my love as I have been since you were taken from me almost 3 months ago. I slip back into that fateful night that seems an eternity ago. You and sitting in quite comfortable silence, knowing that the decision for you and I was a hard one, for me to give up my position as Captain of the Queens guard, to live our lives as simply as we could, oh we are not in poverty for with the Queens blessing and her most generous gift we will live the rest of our lives in simple luxury, given the estate and surrounding lands and enough gold to last not only our entire lives but the lives of the children we plan to have.

But that entire dream is shattered in one instant as the doors to the manor come crashing in, in its place stands one man all in blood-red armour, purple and black lightning rolling across the lands behind him, his helm is lowered but he and I are old friends you see, but I thought him dead, saw him dead as my sword was thrust between the plates of his armour at the junction between his underarm and sides. This man this was once me in a former life, a life that seemed so long ago. He always wanted you but you were mine from the very first day we looked into each other’s eyes, gray on blue. He raises one gauntleted hand pointing in my direction and purple and black lightning streak from behind him surging forward to strike me where I am I mid-stride reaching for the sword that is hanging with my shield above the mantle of the large fireplace, I don’t make it I am enveloped in surging electrical shocks, my blood sings with energy, my mind expands with clarity, but I cannot move, not even a twitch of my eye. I watch as you struggle to lift the sword I was going for, the tip scratching the stone floor. He walks towards you pushing the visor of his helm up as he comes to stop in front of me his eyes alight with greed and a cold humorless smile upon his mouth. Never he says never would she be yours, you knew she was destined to be mine yet you dated to take her from me. I can still hear you struggle with my sword, knowing as you come into my field of vision that you cannot raise it to save your own life, mine is yours and I gladly give it to save your own, but I cannot I am held enthralled be the spell cast upon me. As if reading my mind he turns to you, looking at how you struggle with my sword. Laughing he walks towards you, and your eyes are on fire the blue of them shining forth with impotent rage, fear but not for yourself but for me. I see the effort in the muscles of your arms and shoulders as you finally heft the massive sword above your head, it is awkward and cumbersome but you hold it steady and true in the way you have seen me do my daily exercises. The light from your eyes as they flash over his shoulder at me is the last thing I see as he flicks a hand dismissively in my direction and more lightning pours into my body bringing with total blackness, but in truth, I see the blue of your eyes.

My eyes snap open the memories have flooded my mind, as I seem to be floating above myself I see my sword laying there, a scrap of the dress you were wearing laying next to it the smell of sulfur from the lightning, faintly ever so faintly your smell lingers in the air. The fire has died and the morning sun is peeking in through the front of the manor where the doors have been destroyed, slowly I fall back into myself, riding through the slashing rain I see only the blue of your eyes, the courage, rage and love that was there is what has kept me going. I know I near the end of my journey and with it I will set you free from the man who has kept you from me, I know I may die but that doesn’t matter as long as you are safe and he dies before I do, with that thought I urge my steed faster into the growing storm.

I hit the leading edge of the storm as I cross that point of no return, lightning flashes from the sky purple and jagged striking the ground around me raining clods of dirt and rocks down upon me in explosion after explosion buffets me from side to side, I have no choice but to ride forward lightning by its own volition is unpredictable and has a mind of its own, so I do not veer from my course but head straight and true knowing my best chance is to keep moving forward. Riding I see looming in the distance a rather foreboding structure not quite the same as the manor house we lived in but a combination of both house and stone formations as if the manor was raised up upon a rocky outcropping sitting higher than the ground I am riding upon, I see lights in the courtyard and torches upon the path leading up to it, calling to me saying run, run to me and the destiny that awaits you, mocking me, sending shivers of fear and anticipation through me like the bolts of lightning lashing out all around me. The night sky explodes with a brilliant purple light I can feel it, finally, it has hit me, sending great rendering shocks coursing through my body. My armor glows intensely the runes full of protective magic shine brighter the longer the electricity flows into my body, finally, the shocks subside I am now standing on the ground thrown from the smoking corpse of my horse, landing on my feet by only the Gods own grace. I am like a beacon of vengeance shining in the night the runes on my armor lighting the area around me as if walking in a purple sun, I can see the way in front of me, the torches and light calling to me mockingly. I put one foot in front of the other and activate my final runes on the armor to make me silent as I walk on towards my final destination.

As I close upon the ramp leading to the manor I see upon the front steps the man who violated my home, stole from me the woman I love. In his right had a sword rests point down, I hear him call out to me not yelling over the winds and rain and crashing lightning but in a conversational voice that I can hear plainly. You have come to your death brother. I am no brother of yours I reply, I have come for her the woman I love and I will have her or I will have your life. She wasn’t yours, to begin with, she was promised to me from ages past she is mine, but if you must, come then and I will end your misery once and for all. Gritting my teeth I walk forward as I get closer I can see that the runes of protection on his armor have no color but have all colors at the same time. I reach my hand to my back and grasp the very sword you tried to use to save me, I know this sword it is an extension of me, I know every inch of this hand and a half sword the glint of fire and ice forged steel, the pommel in the shape of a falcon’s head, the cross guard the wings of that falcon spread. I know every rune carved into the blade telling the stories of battles won and lost, it is a part of me in every way just as you are. Pulling it across my left shoulder with my right hand the blade singing as it is pulled from the sheath, singing for vengeance, singing for love, singing for his death.

Just a beginning…..

Posted in Short Stories with tags on March 5, 2013 by dankline2000


As I pass through the woods I hear not a sound of nature only the swift shallow sound of my own breathe, sweats soaks through my rumpled and travel stain clothing, long tanned light brown trousers, tucked into knee high brown sturdy boots, homespun white shirt covered by a long darker brown vest, my green cloak flows behind me and slightly to the right blowing in the slight breeze whispering through the tall trees around me. I must return to where it started to that point in my life when I began. To the place I began, funny is it the place where I began? Perhaps I can set things right or maybe end it once and for all. I run my hand through my tousled blonde hair sending my fingers the entire length to pull the snags from my hair. If only that day would have been different, if only I had chosen a different path then, would I still be in the same place as I am now. Who knows, not me nor the God or Goddess, they haven’t given me a sign as to what end I shall meet. Thinking this as I force myself to walk faster down the path I have chosen to return to the place of that fateful day, my right hand traces the falcon engraved on the pommel of my long sword, the head pointing to the tip of the sword, the wings the cross guard and the tail the pommel. How long have I carried this miserable sword, I can’t even remember where I acquired this thrice damned thing it has been a blessing and curse at the same time, I have been saved by this sword its shining length with swirling colors of many different hues and shades, I have killed with the same blade.

Time, time is all I have left, if only I could have seen back then that the choices I had made would end with me on this path of either salvation or self destruction. I have wandered this kingdom back and forth with the same question on my mind, but now forces are pulling at me, pushing me back to the start, the very place I am now headed. But what will I find? Once again I don’t think I am meant to know until I get there. I know the Gods are watching, waiting for me to get to this place I began, for this is truly the place where I began, from that point back I can remember nothing. Try as I may I cannot remember anything but that I started right there, who was I before, what is my past, these and many more questions I hope to have answered when I return to this place. To be honest I don’t exactly know where this place is, but I know I am headed in the right direction, I know it as sure as the blood pumping from my heart, as sure as the migration pattern of ducks and geese.

The woods end in a spray of yellow sunshine casting its rays upon a clearing in the forest, a clearing filled with the tittles and laughter of small children, but I see nothing with my own eyes, do my ears deceive me? Am I so lost in my own plight that I cannot see the children laughing that I so easily hear. I see flowers in full bloom reds, yellows, blues and violets, I see little seed pods blowing in the breeze I see the green of the grass so different from the browns, grays and black of the forest trail I have left behind. But I still see no children at play. I step out into the clearing and the laughter stops as if I didn’t hear it in the first place, tentatively I take another step into the clearing, it is only three hundred yards across to the path I am to take back into the woods again. Looking round I see no evidence of people anywhere, no other paths lead into nor away from this clearing but the one I am travelling. I stride purposefully into the middle of the clearing calling out to the children I heard just moments before telling them I will not harm them I am just a simple traveler going back to the place I came from. I stand there letting the sunshine soak into my body listening to every sound I can, but there is no sound, no more of the laughter I just heard. Perhaps I imagined the whole thing; perhaps I am so involved with my own plight that I made it up just to distract myself from my own meanderings in my mind.

A small dot of light shoots up from a bunch of bluebells I think they are bluebells, not more than five feet in front of me, the ball of light hangs there still and well I have to say odd, is this an illusion, is it real? It is both a voice inside my head says, I am both real and imagined. Turning quickly towards the way I came I search the tree line for the destination of that voice, no I am right here in front of you the voice says in my head. Great now I am talking to myself, but the voice is very different than my own it sounds older, more full of life knowledge than my own and just a shade deeper than my own voice, that is because you are not going insane, now if you will quit staring at the trees ad face me you will see me fully. I turn round only to see that it is a man before and no longer a small dot of light, no I am not a man I allow you to see me as a human instead of my own form to make you feel more comfortable speaking with me, does my appearance not set your mind at ease, well not really before you were a man you were a ball of light.


Well so far that is all I have people but it seems a story in the making, if not in the ending then perhaps in the beginning.

With much love and gratitude,

Dan Kline

15 minutes…..

Posted in Alters, Anger, Anxiety, Depression, DID, PTSD, Short Stories, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , on March 3, 2013 by dankline2000


Fifteen minutes, really has it only been fifteen minutes since I radioed that our HMMWV had been hit by an electrical pole, no we didn’t hit it, it actually hit us as we were driving by. Now I am squatting in the outside corner of what was once a building with the constant thump of RPG’s and the zing of AK-47 rounds all around me, random thought just hit me I remember being told if you hear the zing of a rifle round it is too damn close, if you hear the zip you have nothing to worry about, hell I might even have that backwards. There were five of us when we rolled out of the gate that morning to do our daily patrol, you can call us Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Delta and Echo, I have Bravo, Charlie and Delta with me Echo is still hanging half in and half out of the gunners hatch on the HMMWV I cannot stick my head over the low wall to see if he is still alive or not but I can hear the whine of bullets ricocheting off the armor of the HMMWV.

The taste is the worst it is chalky, bitter, gritty and I don’t seem to be able to get rid of that damn taste in my mouth it is in the dust that is filling the air with every RPG round and every round from an AK-47, it hasn’t stopped since we took cover after being hit by the damn pole. Ah yes the damn pole, you see whoever blew that pole either had really good luck or had very good timing, you see one second either way and it would have landed in front of us or it would have hit the rear of the HMMWV instead of hitting the front of the damn thing.

I have Delta covering our six, like I explained we were taking cover in the outside corner of a building that had been blown to hell, it has holes in it big enough to drive semis through, hell you can even see the sky through the holes in the floors above us, you can even see other buildings and if we can see that they can see us. Charlie is between me and Bravo and he is fast talking over the radio begging for a med evac and some god damn support, as I look at him again for what seems like the hundredth time he gives me the bureaucratic hand signal for bullshit, fuck we need help and in a bad way. I inch my way to a spot to where I can see Echo and I don’t even get my head above the edge of the blasted block wall when shots pepper my position, damn it I can’t even see if the man is still alive or dead, I don’t even think about trying to return fire, hell we still have full battle rattle, we haven’t shot more than five rounds between all of us, it seems like every insurgent in the entire country is raining hell down upon us, in all reality it is probably only ten to fifteen guys out there probably three with RPG’s and the rest with AK-47’s but man are they laying down the cover fire, like we actually did something to piss off each and every one of them. Fifteen minutes, nope check that it has now been seventeen minutes. It seems like hours not minutes, the way Charlie is babbling over the net it looks like help won’t be coming real soon, it makes me wonder just what the hell we rode into for them to be so intent on blowing the hell out of us. Hell we have been all over this area for weeks now never the same route more than once, how did they know where we would be, hell this could all be a fluke, except for the fact that we drove down this street and they rigged an electrical pole to blow at just the right time, I am not saying they were laying in wait for us and I am not saying that other squads that left this morning aren’t in the exact same type of predicament, but it sure as hell feels like we are right in the middle of shit central. Man I have to see if Echo is alive, jesus I can’t get that damn taste out of my mouth for nothing I don’t even want to move enough to get my damn canteen out. Damn it where is the cavalry, where is the air support, they should have been here by now. Fuck I couldn’t even hear them if they did come for all the damn explosions and weapons firing.

Now, I tell myself look over the god damn wall and see if Echo is still in the same position or has fallen back into the damn HMMWV and is laying lower than a snakes dick for cover, damn the taste in my mouth, NOW, shit here I go and then it is done I pop my head out of cover and look back at the HMMWV and…..

With much love and gratitude,

Dan Kline

Not all is black and white, there are shades of grey…..

Posted in Alters, Anger, Anxiety, Depression, DID, PTSD, Short Stories, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , on February 19, 2013 by dankline2000


I ride, I ride in the darkest of nights with no company but my own seeking to do right the wrongs perceived in my mind, I ride with bow across my back and long sword at my side and beautiful black sleek horse between my legs riding for I know not where only aware that right needs to be done, I will strike at the fear in my heart, I will ride until I face the enemy of my mind. I know that a great battle looms before me, but in what form will this battle be, what of my foe will he be evil, will he be honorable, I feel that it will be the first that I have mentioned. Steeling myself for what may come I urge my steed on faster not knowing what waits around every turn in the forest path I take. I can feel him now; I can feel the dislike, hate even that this other has for me. I am not scared I have the fullness of right on my side.

There I see him in the clearing before me sitting astride his horse, I can barely see him for he seems to shift in the wind, sometimes there other times not, what sort of magic is this, is it the magic of lies I see before me, and still I feel no fear. 100 paces I stop before my foe, and as I raise my sword in salute he starts forward at a complete run, I can smell the foulness of him on the wind as he approaches me at a break neck speed, and still I have not moved, closer he comes and closer the smell of him reaches me as if it is pushed forward in front of him as a warning, still I sit astride my mighty steed only baring my sword and holding it in my right hand and holding my reins in my left, I watch and wait when he is half the distance to me I spur my mount forward, he lunges in a mighty leap and we hit a full run in a few strides. Racing to meet my destiny whether I live or die by this encounter I know he will not leave this clearing alive. Closer and closer we race to meet each other, he is on my left so I lean across my horse and bring my blade to the right side of me and somewhat to the rear so that I may deliver a full blow to my oppent, we are within twenty yards of each other and he opens his mouth in a silent scream but I hear it all too well it is the scream of a dead man, a man that no longer controls himself but has been taken over by another so evil and vile as to change the man’s appearance as he rides towards me, rough horns curling from the front of his forehead, coarse hair growing on his face, he grows bigger with each stride, and still I feel no fear you see I have been here before I know his kind and have defeated his like before. No matter where I travel in this world I am followed by this evil, I am almost kin to it, for I have defeated it before and in each defeat I feel myself grow more like them every day, the one difference that separates me from them is my vow, my vow to eradicate the fowl smelling wretches each and every time I meet them on the field of battle, 10 yards away and still he screams the silent scream as if he didn’t it would rip his throat out, his eyes burn with fires of hatred, flames trail from his mouth, and yet as I race towards him I say nothing, not even the war cry of my ancestors will come from my lips. Finally together we crash with me sweeping my great sword from the left and straight at the juncture where the helm and the neck cod piece come together, at the last moment he manages to block the swing of my sword, as it rebounds off his blade I reverse and bring it in from the right side to a resounding crash against the his ribs, the plate mail screeches in defiance and it bows inward at the force from my sword, not much harm there but he understands now what he faces, no a knight of the light but a knight who travels in the grey of this world doing what needs to be done to keep balance as it should be, horses circling each other blows rain and metal sings, each trying to find an opening I the other defenses, I do not stay on the defense long knowing that I play a deadly game and in losing it allows the evil in this world more of a hold and less to the balance between the light and darkness. In an instance I change tactics raining blow after overhand blow down upon my mortal enemy, forcing back and into a defensive posture, striking as hard as I can and knowing full well that if I don’t finish this fight within the next several strokes I will be tired and on the defensive myself, I swing high catching him in the helm damaging the visor so that he has to retreat to the left instead of following me round to the right, I swing again and he blocks rounding the sword from my right hand to my left from around my back I sweep in and I catch him square in the gorget guarding his throat, crushing it under the great weight of my swing, knocking him from his horse. I stop and look down at him I can see the fires of hate from his eyes I hear the gravelly voice from inside of his helm, finish me you coward of the grey, you are as unholy as I and yet you do battle with me. I simply reply I am only here to make sure the balance is kept I am neither evil nor good, I just am. With that I slip from my horse and stand over him both my legs spread to fit in the sockets of his arms, I raise my blade above my head with the tip pointed directly down at his heart, I look again and see the flames in his eyes flicker from hate to fear, I know where his soul will journey this night, and the pain it will bring him, without anymore hesitation I plunge my sword straight down into his black heart, only a groan escapes his mouth as the last breath leaves his body. Have I won another fight, I have but I will fight many more in my quest to keep the balance of this world in place.

With much love and gratitude,

Dan Kline

New Items on Blog…..

Posted in Short Stories with tags on September 2, 2012 by dankline2000

Please check out my short stories menu on the right hand side of the page, I hope you find that what i write is interesting.

With much gratitude and devotion,

Dan Kline