the Future Fire

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posted on Oct, 24 2012 @ 04:21 AM
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the Future Fire - by John Silverswan, 23/10/2012.



Chapter 1

Jo almost had a perfect day. Well, it was almost prefect. He achieved perfect cofee, which is so much of a rare event in one's life that surely it was indication of a perfect day. He made a stroll in the art museum, saw old mythological animal sculptures - what's with the chinese's and norse's obession with dragons? - and then went in the nearby circus to have some fun. It was almost the evening. Jo took great care at entering the circus in the evening, he wanted to see the circus's multicoloured lights. He browsed through cards magic tricks, and was a bit disappointed. Yes, congratulations, that is the card I choosed. No, I am not impressed. Why? Because I know it's a trick, so who gives a damn about a stupid, stereotyped trick?

Jo had ALMOST a perfect day. That is because the next show was the start of his nightmare, but he didn't know that at that time. So he entered the tent.

All he saw was darkness. Then he saw the 5 candles, and only then did he saw the woman, which was sitting on a chair behind a circular, wooden table.
"Sit", ordered the woman.
Jo sat on the other chair. He saw that the woman was dressed in green. Not light clothes, but heavy ones.
"I am specialized in cartomancy. Please allow me to read your future to you. "
"Sure. Whatever. "
Jo knew the drill. 22 cards, all had a special meaning: 1 is the magician, 2 is the pope-ess, 3 is the emperess, 4 is the emperor, 5 is the pope, 6 is the Lovers, and it goes on until you reach 22, the Fool. The girl will claim she's a magician, not illusionist but the "real white magic", and that by some sort of mystical forces she will choose just the right cards, read them using tarot symbology, and predict the future.

His thinking was confirmed when she pulled out a set of cards. Yup, she's doing this tarot thing, all right.
"Here I have 144 cards. All of them have a different meaning. All of them are neither bad or good... they are concepts, which are pure in essence. Only intentions can make the difference between bad or good. "
"144?!" Jo realized he was really off the number 22. He asked, "These are not tarot? "
"No. My expertise are in Green, or natural, Magic; not Alchemy. These cards have all
major natural symbols on them - it seems these card's greater number yields a more accurate prediction than tarot, which only has 52 cards and 22 major blades. "
She shuffled the cards, mumbling something which seemed to include the word "air" and "East" and "red", then she picked 7 cards out of the deck and laid those face-down, following that placement: card 1, card 2 at the left of card 1, card 3 at the left of card 2, card 4 on top of card 2, card 5 under card 2, card 6 on top of card 3 (or left of card 4) and, at last, card 7 under card 1 (or right of card 5).
Without hesitation she turned the first card.
"Your past: the Waters. You found something pure, perfect, something which is usually hard to achieve. "
Does she knows about my perfect cofee this morning? wondered Jo vaguely, not really interrested by the answer. The boring woman on front of him turned the second card she choosed.
"Your present: the Sand. Your life have been subject to abrasion, so now it's blunt, you experience no more fun, in other words... you are bored. "
Jo jumped then sat back. "Am not! ", instinctively lied Jo.
The woman nodded absently then turned the third card.
"Your future: the Fire. Something unsettling, unusual, impredictable. Could be dangerous or it could be wonderful - of course, it's all a matter of perceptions. "
"Hm. "said Jo, skeptic.
"What you've learned: the Ice. You learned to harden yourself, to discard weakness and replace it by cold. "
Jo tried to act as cool as he could. He didn't want to prove the woman right.
"What you need to learn: the Animal. You have to learn to evolve, to adapt, that is, to go with the flow of mother Nature, to accept it, make it part of you, not to resist it. "
"Right. " he laughed nervously. She turned card 6.
"What will help you: the Night Sky. A mysterious force, a mystery, something which nobody, not even scientists, understand fully. A mystical event, perhaps a person. "
Jo wondered if she was refering to herself. She certainly was a bit weird.
"And, what will slow you down: the Mud. A lack of understanding, a lack of awareness, a coat of ignorance which insulates from mother Nature. "

It was around 18 h when Jo got out of the tent. Before he got out the witch touched him on his forehead, then his heart, "linking" both toghtether to "balance" his enegry.

He tried to shake the feeling off, that sticking mysterious mystical feeling which the woman gave him and which prevented him to think correctly. He returned to his car, closed the door and truned the engine on. He was on his way back to home now, everything will be allright.




posted on Oct, 24 2012 @ 04:21 AM
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Chapter 2

When he got home the sky was pitch black. He could see the stars. A couple of centimeters of snow was on the ground, the city was too far, he couldn't benefit from the city's warmer weather. It was actually quite cold. He took his bath before eating, hoping he could wash the creepy feeling away with warm water and bubbles. He was relaxing in the hot water, amongst the bubbles, when his eyes accidently fell on his chest, and he gasped from shock. On his chest, a bit off-center, some sort of a ugly thing corrupted his skin. It looked like a mole, but greenish instead of dark. It hurted, as if it was swelling his very skin instead of just growing on it. It looked like a miniature pillow or a tile.
He rushed out of his bath, and looked at himself in the mirror. His black hair fell as usual over his green eyes, and water started dripping in his eyes but he managed to see that the wart was limited to his chest. No bigger than his little finger nail. Coincidently, it was marking the spot where his heart was. He will have to check with a doctor tomorrow. It was probably just a wart filled with pus.

He ate a steak with a honey & garlic sauce and some potatoes. He was starting to have a headache, thanks to the witch.

At 23 h he decided to go to bed. He took a last look at the tile/pillow-like green thing on his chest. It looked as it was more shiny and slightly bigger than earlier, but that was maybe just because he was tired. He closed the lights and slipped into his bed.

Now he was comfortably wrapped in his sheets, in total darkness. His headache eased a bit. The only other thing which was hurting was the burning green wart thing on his chest.

He took a last look to his clock, on his bed table. 23 h 03. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, to forget the pain. If only he could make it to the paradoxal sleep state, the burning pain in his forhead - and on his chest - will vanish, just like magic. He would sleep, his mind at last disconnected from his body, his mind untouchable. He tried to relax, to forget the unnatural swell in his chest's flesh, he tried to sleep.

He saw darkness.

He saw darkness.

He was seeing darkness.

Was it darkness? All that he was seeing was himself in the woods, chased by some sort of beast - it felt like a wolf, but he wasn't sure - yet at the same moment he was here, in his bed, comfortably cuddled in his sheets, looking straight up at his ceiling, which was plunged in darkness. Where was he precisely? Are dream world and real world intimately woven toghether, like two threads in a knitting pattern? He looked back at his dark ceiling. The wolf was just behind him. He could feel its breath closing in. He was running in the snowy forest, swerving to avoid trees, focusing on not falling in the heavy snow. He had to run faster in his bed. He shifted on his right side so his legs were free now to move. He attempted to speed up in the snow but his legs weren't responding to his mind's commands. Why? He tried to swing his legs, anything to put distance between him and the wolf-like beast which was hunting him. But the realization dawned on him that his bed was preventing him to rapidly swing his legs.

The sheets were preventing him to escape the beast, he concluded.

He struggled with his sheets but the wolf behind him closed its jaws on his torso. His whole body jerked to escape the beast's jaws. As the pain soared once more, he woke up. And suddenly he realized he was in his bed, not in the woods, he realized that he was safely inside his bedroom. He was only dreaming. Was he? He shot a glance to his clock. 0 h 49. So it was just some sort of a dream after all. But he could see his ceiling! How can one be asleep and awake at the same time? Can one sleep with one's eyes opened? Some birds could, but that's all he could remember. The darkness in his room was deep, as the bottom of a well. He started to think; What would the bottom of a well hold?
Would it still have old, lost one-cents lying under the black waters?
Or maybe a forgotten object, like a lost 1900 car part or something.
Or maybe even the body of a century-old murder victim, a murder which the authorities never resolved and then forgotted.

Maybe Jo could take his chance and resolve the case himself. He leaned on the brick side of the well. The rocky material was pushing against his chest but he had to try and forget the pain if he wanted to take look. He had to take a look, or else he won't be able to sleep with his mind at peace tonight.

He opened his eyes. Tonight? If tonight was located in the future, then when was he, if not already in this "tonight"? He turned around and looked at his clock. 0 h 57. The victim was killed by a beast. Wait. How did he knew that? Simple. He succeeded at looking into the well's watery bottom. That was the reason why his chest hurt so much. His chest scraped against the brick. No, he couldn't. He was in his bed, right? People can't be two places at the same time. He had to remember that.

He rubbed his eyes, deciding that he'll try and stay awake for a couple of minutes, just enough time to clear his mind and hopefully make more restful dreams afterwards. He had a splitting headache. The pain in his head was only matched by the persisting pain on his chest. He moved a hand and touched the burning area, attempting to soothe the pain down. He rubbed his chest but what he felt made his heart stop.

He felt a series of bulging tiles after bulging tiles, all over his chest. They were following some sort of pattern. He had catched a virus! He followed the affected area with his fingers, to feel how big the affected area was. The pillow-like tiles we covering the hole of his chest, but also his throat, and finally up to his lower jaw.
"Oh my god", was shocked Jo. It was an infection. He had to do something. The virus was probably at that very moment eating his flesh, turning it to green pus. But he was so tired...

He fell back into half a dream. Where was he? Oh, yes, right, the beast or whatever animal it was was after him. But where was it? Jo looked straight at his black ceiling. Where was the animal?

I can't be two places at the same time, remembered Jo. The beast is not out there, he reasonned. I am here. Which means the animal is... here. In my very own room...

He felt a wave of pure terror at that thought. Will it bite me at any moments now? Or... what if it already did? What if it's the reason why I have an infection?...

He was panicking, but he couldn't do nothing, he was too tired, he was feeling his flesh swell into these greenish tiles. He dozed off, and one of his last thoughts was to look at his clock - 1 h 34 - and, when he closed his eyes, to realize the animal he was running from... It was in his mind. In his brain.
In him.

He opened his eye again, automatically shooting a glance to his clock. 3 h 18.

He closed his eyes back again.

Then he vaguely remembered he had to do something. Too tired to open his eyes, he finally succeeded in freeing his hand once again. He slowly moved his hand to feel the progression of the infection on his body. His mind was so lethargic, it was in a total detatchement he felt that the tiles now covered his back, his chest, had spread to his belly, has spread onto his ears... and... he had to feel his mouth more carefully with his fingers. He repeated the operation, he couldn't believe it...
Somehing was very wrong. Now he almost had a heart attack. Instead of touching a nose and a normal mouth, he was feeling some sort of a round snout, covered with those pillow-like tiles, with a lip-less mouth and two circular nostrils.
He was stupefied. As he absent-mindly kept stroking his snout, he suddenly realized... The greenish pillow-like tiles were scales. Reptile skin scales.

What a weird dream. He then saw nothingness. At one point he didn't even knew if his eyes were closed or not.

At one point he was on his belly, trying to disperse his body heat, which seemed to have rised up to 40°C. His head ached so much... The infection was giving him hallucination and fever.

He kept thinking about that beast, the fire beast which was in him, eating him.

The he would think he was normal, that it was all just a dream.

It's hard to tell when you're in darkness. The heat of his body seemed to bring up the level of humidity in the cold air.
The darkness was now as in a jungle at night: pitch black, humid and unsettling.

At one point he was lying on his belly while his tailbone felt like it was shifting, re-shaping, shape shifting. Illusions, shifting reality, shape-shifting his world. He had to let the monster slip into him, that was the only way the pain will stop, No, wait, I'm in a dark room, there are no beasts. Just dreams.

He saw nothingness once again. He half-woke up, still on his belly, this time to stretch his back; he heard his backbones snap back into place as he waved his whole body, as a snake would do to move in the grass. He wasn't even sure what he was doing, his mind was so hazy. Then he fell back into the wet, dark void.

At one point he tried to feel his temperature but his hands seemed as they were covered by the thing, he had the impression he was wearing leather gloves. He couldn't get a good reading. So he shot his tongue out instead and briefly licked his round snake scaly snout: The snout's humidity evaporated in a matter of seconds. Which meant he did have fever... he had to grab medication, he had to see a nose doctor - surely a nose doctor knows what to do when a patient comes in with a reptilian snout? Oh right, he remembered. I don't have one, I am hallucinating... -, but he was too tired, he had to make a cofee first...

He had the impression he was slowly losing his brain to the invasion, that the virus was infiltrating his thoughts, shrinking his very grey matter.

Then the total and complete darkness.



posted on Oct, 24 2012 @ 04:22 AM
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Chapter 3

His alarm clock blared. His radio turned on. The voice of the radio guy was thin and bass-less.
"It's 8 o'clock and it's, surprise surprise, the 31 of october. Happy Halloween to everybody, the weather outside is mostly sunny with some clouds. Chances of on and off snow precipitations; and now to the news: Israel decided to launch a warning attack on Iran, as Iran has completed it nuclear program... "

Jo woke up. He opened his vertically slitted green eyes. First he opened the exterior, primary, scaly eyelids, and then the light-dimming inner eyelids, which were transparent. He blinked his dimming eyelids twice in the morning sun.

He lifted his head from his pillow. His thick, heavy but powerful tail waged lazily. His legs were squatting on the sides, as a lizard's. He waved his heavy tail from left to right with more force, throwing the sheets off, onto the ground. He lifted himself to stand on his hind legs, and yawned, opening wide his impressive alligator jaws. Some heat escaped from his nostrils. He closed his jaws, as a bit of fire shot out from his glistening snout.

He lowered his head to look down at himself and his bed, bending his long scaly neck into a S, which shined in the sun. He could see the heat from his respiration had blackened his pillow, and that his fire-hot belly left a burn mark under him on his bed. His dark, onyx-black claws were 15 centimeters long on his hands. His feet claws were even longer, 20 centimeters, and were gripping, like an eagle's claws, his mattress.

With his crocodile eyes, Jo watched the heat escaping from his snout - in his rather cool room, it was taking the appearance of smoke.
There was humidity condentation on his windows, because of the heat he kept breathing out during the night.

He had no more feelings, no more humanity. He was a deadly monster. He burned his humanity away, and now he shall burn all the rest.

He got out of his bed on all four, as smoothly as a cheetah, then stood up back on his hind legs again. His claws were making a clicking sound on the varnished floor. He turned his head toward his bed. The golden sun was reflecting on its glistening, greenish, copper-solid scales. He took a breath, expanding his chest which was covered with larger scales, reared his head back a bit, and waited until all the air he in-took was completely heated in his chest. Then he felt the right amount of heat. He shot his head foward, decompressed his chest, and his tail lifted up a bit. Blue fire was hurled in a stream, out of his opened reptile mouth, and burning straight trought the mattress.

Satified by the result - a big cracking fire started burning the wooden base of the bed and also the wall -, he watched his belongings burn with his green emotionless eyes. His electrical appliances fried in its room. He ran, in a fashion which was not unlike the way velociraptors runned, toward the home's outside door. He paused in his kitchen, and saw the filled jerrycan he used to keep to fill his car. He reared, swelled his chest with air, and shot his head foward again, belching blue flames at the jerrycan. The explosion was defeaning. The gasoline exploded right in his dragon face.

But it tooked more than fire to kill a dragon. It got out of its house, in the snow, which melted under its clawed feet. Snow was falling unto its snout, head, neck, back and tail, but snowflakes immediately evaporated upon touching its bare scaled skin. Its home was burning in orange flames and tons of black smoke. The whole kitchen was blow to pieces. The smell of burnt plastic was a nightmare in itself, but Jo didn't mind. He couldn't smell anything anymore, anyway.

The monster wandered in the direction of its neighbourhood.


CTV NEWS - november first, 2012.

Yesterday authorities reported the burning of 38 houses (and counting) in Saint-Sauveur, a small city just north of Montreal. The fire cause is still unknow. What is do known is that some sort of "reptile" was sighted nearby a number of these houses prior and after their burning. Forests have been damaged but the snow fortunately limited forestial fire propagation.

Authorities are warning the population to stand on their guard as there is no way to predict where the next fires will strike next... The population is terrified as this is the most violent non-natural fires that Saint-Sauveur population ever saw. Some feel there might be a paranormal side to these events, as witnesses stated that these fire come from "the dragon's mouth", and that this "beast" is somehow "linked to the 21/12/12" future events. Authorities belive it is the work of some very elusive pyromaniac, who is maybe wearing heavy disguise; but so far the questions about the source of his unlimited heating energy and about his footprint's weight anomaly are still unsolved mysteries.

Remember, if you see anything unusual, the number for calling up authorities is 9-1-1.



CNN - november second, 2012 news updates.

137 houses burnt. This... "thing" revealed to be resistant to bullets - if you encounter it, do not engage; just flee. Authorities insist: do not engage - flee for your safety.



CTV - november the third, 2012.

347 houses burnt and counting.... IT'S STILL ON THE LOOSE.



posted on Oct, 24 2012 @ 04:22 AM
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Author's note: Well last night I couldn't sleep, so I seized the opportunity to write a little Halloween fiction for you guys. It took me quite some time. Storytelling is something I find fun to do; but it's also the first time I write a complete story in english. It was quite a challenge.

I didn't want to write something gory. I wanted to write something which wouldn't prevent you from swallowing Halloween candies - for those of you who are lucky enough to already have some
. I wanted to write something in the line of the original "The Wolfman" film, but werevolves were so "has been". So instead I got inspired by old norse and chinese stories about this mystic transfiguration, and I applied it to a more modern background.

Thanks to you, whoever you are, for reading my first english story.

It's not big, but I hope you enjoyed it.

John Silverswan



posted on Oct, 24 2012 @ 04:22 AM
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Whoops! Double post, sorry.
edit on 24-10-2012 by swan001 because: (no reason given)



posted on Oct, 24 2012 @ 11:43 AM
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reply to post by swan001
 


Hi Swan. Wow, great story mate. You could easily replace Mary Higgins Clark. As a matter of fact, I think you are the best in the whole galaxy.



posted on Oct, 24 2012 @ 11:48 AM
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reply to post by swan001
 


Thanks, Swan. These are kind words.



posted on Oct, 25 2012 @ 09:42 AM
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2 days and no feedback so far...



posted on Oct, 25 2012 @ 10:44 AM
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Nice...a dragon-style werewolf (I guess that would be a weredragon) story. I've been waiting for Hollywood to make one of those. For some reason, I find werewolf-type movies to be the creepiest...even light-hearted ones, like American Werewolf in London. They're always a sure way to get me hooked.
Though, I must say, the story does lack one thing... the obligatory Antichrist


Now there's an idea: Werechrist vs Dragon Jo. Should try pitching that to The Asylum.
edit on 25-10-2012 by CLPrime because: (no reason given)



posted on Oct, 26 2012 @ 04:18 AM
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reply to post by CLPrime
 


Cool, someone finally saw the link in my signature! Thanks for your input.


Nice...a dragon-style werewolf (I guess that would be a weredragon) story.

Thanks... Yeah, you're right, I guess we could call it a weredragon.


I've been waiting for Hollywood to make one of those. For some reason, I find werewolf-type movies to be the creepiest...even light-hearted ones, like American Werewolf in London. They're always a sure way to get me hooked.

Me too... I don't understand why nobody made something about a dragon instead of wolves. I mean, dragons are supposed to be harder to kill than wolves, I would think. Scales instead of skin, can sense heat, can breathe fire instead of just growling. Maybe Hollywood is afraid that making a movie of dragon shape-shifters would fuel conspiracy theories of all sorts...


Though, I must say, the story does lack one thing... the obligatory Antichrist

Now there's an idea: Werechrist vs Dragon Jo. Should try pitching that to The Asylum.

lol Believe it or not, I actually thought about writing a sequel including the Antichrist. I thought, the dragon could actually be a good guy, with its purifying fire. But I want to see if people loved the Future Fire in the first place.

I assume you made a typo; when you said "werechrist vs dragon", I assume you actually mean "Antichrist vs Weredragon"? 'Cause it's gonna be a bit akward to describe a guy turning to Christ. "Well, you know, the guy's hair started to grow, and he grew a beard, and suddenly he set his hamburger down, and instead of eating, as the Light flooded him, he said, 'Let Love and Forgiveness rule our hearts once again. And, instead of our heart's blood, let us let forgiveness enlighten our future, and instead of our heart's blood, let Love reach to our ennemy. '(just improvising here, I never read NT). "



posted on Oct, 28 2012 @ 02:43 PM
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Hi Swan

I like your story!
At first I thought he was becoming an alligator, so it was a surprise when the fire first came out and I realized he was a dragon. Then I realized there were some clues because of the heat he was feeling. I really liked the way you used his dreaming, confusion, and delirium as he believes he is ill, to follow his transition to the animal mind of the beast.

Happy Halloween!

Thanks,
Gwynn



posted on Oct, 28 2012 @ 09:23 PM
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I also had a good chuckle at your dialogue with yourself, while you were waiting for people to comment!


Nice job, Swan!



posted on Oct, 29 2012 @ 08:49 AM
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reply to post by gwynnhwyfar
 


lol Yeah, it seemed people didn't saw my thread for 2 whole days. So to show an example of what to do, I replied to myself.


Thanks, I am glad you liked my story. It's the first one I wrote in english.

Yeah, I really wanted to insist on this dash of confusion, delirium, dream state merging with reality. I don't see alot of people do that when they write, so I did. It actually took me a whole day to make that part perfect. Every paragraphs had to be in total control, to hide and expose the character's change both at the same time.

Thanks!





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