Realm Komiks Prequel: New Worlds; Chapter 6: Journeys

Chapter 6:

Journeys

The moon gazes into the room as Susan’s stiff body leans against the hard mattress, which usually feels soft. Tonight it feels like she has chosen a rocky spot beside her snoozing husband. She watches as he moves and then pulls his head from his pressed pillow and gets out of bed toward the bathroom. The hall light flicks on and the bathroom door closes. There is a brief moment of silence other than the distant sound of the liquid hitting the porcelain bowl. The toilet flushes, a brief faucet running and the hall light shuts off. He creeps back into the room and slides into bed, as if he could wake his wife, pulling the covers over him. Susan hesitates a moment but then decides to intrude before he journeys back to dream land.

“Daniel,” Susan whispers.

He startles for a moment and then leans over and kisses her on the forehead, “Sorry, I tried not to wake you. Sleep love.” He mumbles as he goes to lay his head back onto the pillow.

Susan rolls over and props her head on her hand while relaxing her elbow in the mattress. “Daniel, I haven’t been to sleep.” She softly says, “ I know its wee hours but if I don’t get this off my mind…”

He slightly props himself up while he wraps his arm around her and pulls her into his chest with a slight exhausting sigh. Daniel is no stranger to his wife’s late night worries. Often she is able to ponder herself and revel alone rather if it is in bed or on the couch; There have only been a few moments that she has demanded his attention, so when she does, he tries to give it to her, “Darling, my eyes are on stilts for you.” He mumbles allowing her to know he is going to listen.

“I need to leave town and go visit my mother,” she quickly announces, “Alone.” She confirms as if he has already asked to join her.

“You hate your mother.” He drowsily reminds her while fighting his sleep.

“Not hate,” she corrects, “Resentment and hate are not the same. I need to have some questions answered.”

“Honey, it’s two in the morning; I am agreeable to whatever will help you sleep. If that’s what you need to do, I think you should go.”

She pauses for a moment and then lifts her head towards him, “Don’t you want to know why?” she questions as his head bobs for a moment.

“I’d prefer morning revelation, but if it will help you sleep, please let it unfold.” He tries to sound encouraging.

She gives slight pause and then continues, “It’s just the fishing business. I know you could really use my help now; and to leave Janet with you… Everything going on…”

As she tries to gather her thoughts Daniel interrupts. He gives a relaxing sigh and slight smirk of her mindfulness of his work, “Darling, Janet is nine and clearly capable of being no trouble. She is my right hand woman on the boat.” He strokes Susan’s hair as he softly speaks, “I know this is hard for you to comprehend, because you take such wonderful care of us both, but we are going to survive if you need to go on a holiday.”

She snugs into him with his comforting touch. “Thank you,” she whispers.

He runs his hand to the small of her back and rubs gently comforting her. Her eyes finally begin feeling heavy.

“All better?” he murmurs through his closed eyes.

“Yes. Better.” She agrees drifting into sleep.

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Susan brings her large cherry suitcase down the carpeted steps as Daniel and Janet are packing  food for the boat. Susan briefly hears Janet questioning Daniel about her departure until she is noticed coming down the steps.  Janet hops off the bar stool and scurries over calling as she moves. “Do you need help, mom?”

“I have it dear. Thank you.” Susan assures.

Janet begins to drill questions toward her mother as she makes her way down the steps. “Why are you leaving to Grandma’s so sudden? Is she really okay?”

“I told her she was okay.” Daniel calls from the kitchen.

“She’s not going to die or anything?” Janet seeks confirmation.

“She’s fine, Janet. I just want to talk to her about some things. Everything is okay.” Susan tries to avoid Janet’s questioning eyes as she scoots passed her at the base of the stairs.

“Why don’t you just call her or Skype her?” Janet probes.

“She has some papers and old family items in a box I’d like to go through myself.” Susan answers as she heads toward the open kitchen.

“Like what?” Janet ask.

Daniel steps in, “Janet, stop interrogating your mother.”

Susan pauses and turns to Janet, “Did I raise you to be so nosy?”

“I’m like dad. Can’t help it.” Janet decides making excuses for herself.

“Like you father?” Susan scoffs, “Your father told me to go and do what I need to do. He asked no questions pertaining.”  She reveals.  

Janet shoots her head to her father.

“It’s true.” He confirms and then jokes, “It was two in the morning though,” he playfully smiles while biting into his egg sandwich, “I have yours here, ladies.” He holds the egg sandwiches up for display.

Susan pushes past Janet and toward Daniel, “I appreciate it, Love, but I must get on the road. Flight I booked left me little time.”

Daniel wraps the sandwich in a paper towel, “For the road then. Have to eat.” He sticks it in her empty hand.

“For the road then.” She agrees and leans in and kisses his cheek.

“Janet, come and give me a hug.” Susan tells her.

Janet does so and as she pulls back she holds onto her mother’s shoulders. “I can go with you. I can help.” She tries to convince her mother.

“Your father needs you here.” Susan stands up, “but thank you for offering…”

“What are you looking for in the box?” Janet interrupts her, “Can you just tell me that? What does it have to do with?”

Susan rolls her eyes agitated, “Your great grandmother is what it has to do with. Enough questions now. I will phone upon my arrival. Take care of him.” She says shooting her eyes to Daniel with a sly grin and kisses Janet on the forehead.

Janet sighs, “Okay, mom,” as she is already pondering on her mother’s abrupt explanation.

“Be good!” Susan gives one last small wave and heads out the light blue wooden door.

“Sandwich, Janet, “Daniel reminds her to eat as he continues to gather their things.

“Daddy!” she exclaims

“Eat.” Daniel reminds her.

“For the road?” she asks.

“Very well, “he agrees wrapping up her sandwich in a paper towel and heading toward the door. “Need to get to the boat,” he says stuffing the last part of his sandwich into his mouth, “Come on.”

Janet quickly follows and as he walks out the door and down the white painted, wooden steps that lead toward the driveway, where the old blue Ford truck is parked. Janet locks the door hastily behind her as she follows and tries to keep up. “Daddy I know!” she quickly exclaims stammering toward the truck.

“Truck Janet.” He reminds her so she will keep moving.

He starts the truck as she jumps in on the other side and pulls the heavy door shut. They pull out from the small beach house and down the gravel path to the main road.

“She said because of Great Grandma!”  Janet exclaims about her epiphany.

Daniel confirms, “I know what she said” he tries to ignore as he drives on the beach side road.

“Great Grandma went to the crazy house about alien stuff!” Janet reminds him.

“Mental Institution is preferable, dear,” He glances toward her shaking his head. Daniel realizes his daughter isn’t going to leave her theories rest.

“Mental Institution.” Janet corrects herself taking in the ocean air while rolling down the passenger side window, “ Mom believes great grandma wasn’t crazy.”

Daniel grins at Janet, “Yes, I have figured this out. She needs a peace of mind. She needs to understand what happened.”

“Right!” Janet exclaims.

Daniel gives a laughing sigh, “You are just too smart, Janet,” he teases patting her on the leg for a brief moment. “What job do want on the boat today?” he tries to change the subject.

Janet gleams still proud of her revelation and ignoring his question she ads “So what was her great grandma’s story?”

“Ah, I’m not sure exactly,” Daniel tries to shrug it off. “Rolling down the window. Great idea.” He rolls down his window a tad, “Amazing day out.”

“Do you sort of know the story?” Janet digs denying his attempt to change conversation.

Daniel gives a laughing sigh, “Well, I know you’re not going to stop until I give you something.”

She smirks in agreement.

“If I tell you what I do know and then you are to drop this whole conversation. Thoughts to yourself; and by the heavens,” he daunts, “don’t say a word to your mother that I had loose lips.” Daniel pauses for a brief a moment and then ads, “Let her come to us when she is ready. Understand?”

Janet chews on the agreement. “Okay, very well then. I understand.” She finally agrees. “Now, tell me what you know.”

Daniel, silent for a brief moment, considering the information he is going to disclose to his daughter, and then continues, “Word has it, your great grandmother talked of her husband’s father, which would be your great great grandfather….you follow?” he ask.

“Got it.” Janet confirms.

Daniel continues, “That he was an alien from another planet. After your mom’s grandpa died her grandma began talking of joining his dad, her father-in-law, on some planet. Began speaking in some different language, started mapping out areas all over in space that she thought were planets out there somewhere,” he collects his thoughts for a brief second with a sigh, “And she started thinking she had been on a spaceship…I’m not sure,” he hesitates, “Some of the things your mother told me are hazy.” He admits. “There were a numerous of other things. Her kids, your grandmother, and her sisters became worried she, your great grandmother, end up hurting herself and had her evaluated. They thought it be best she see a psychiatrist in a mental home. That’s all I know of it, really.”

“So we could be related to aliens, is what you are saying,” Janet concludes. “I could be part alien?”

“Janet,” Daniel warns her of the fantasy in his tone of voice.

“No, dad that is what you are saying. Right?” she begins with certainty, “If my great great grandfather was an alien then I would be part alien.” She figures very matter of fact.

“Janet that is not what I’m saying. Your mom’s grandmother, unfortunately, had some screws loose is all. She was confused and depressed when your great grandfather passed away. I’m sure this is how she dealt with the grieving process, sadly.”

“But then why is mom checking into it? It is alien revelation. It is the Planeteers.” She confirms, “Great Grandma wasn’t crazy. She was just speaking the truth.” Then Janet perks up with an additional thought, “ I wonder if there is a way to test the blood for part alien? What would that blood type be? It has to be in our blood…” she trails off trying to figure out the answer to her questions.

“Drop it Janet, we had a deal,” he reminds her shaking his head while regretting disclosing what he knew.

She rolls her eyes and turns to stare out the truck window as it pulls into the pier's parking lot. Janet gazes into the sunny sky as it bounces off the windshield. Her eyes twinkle from the glare and as she has already drifted into her world of conclusions that she must investigate. “There are aliens out there,” she thinks to herself, “and I could be part of them.”

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Margret opens her tired eyes and rolls the pillow further under her cheek. She feels emotionally and mentally exhausted from the previous day. It is hard for her to imagine that it was only yesterday afternoon she was in the middle of a shootout. She begins to close her heavy eyes when she barely catches a glimpse of a figure standing in the door way. Her eyes fling open and she quickly sits up in dismay, “Oh Lord!” she startles. “What are you doing?”

Colm stands shirtless in the door way leaning against the trim. His white cotton string pants hang loose over his legs, arms crossed over his torso, subtlety revealing the shadow against each razor ab, trailing down to his pelvis. His trimmed muscles slightly bulge from his chest as they introduce his strong pulsing neck. Margret is torn by the artwork standing before her. She wants to stroke her fingers against, her body pulsing from the though; but her mind reminds her of the repulsion she feels by his boldness. He gazes over with a smirk on his face that turns into a wide grin when she acknowledges him.

“How long have you been watching me?” she asks pulling the covers tighter around her, then naturally combing her fingers through her messy hair.

“Breakfast is ready. Join me, please? We have a busy day ahead.” He cuts to the chase.

“Um, “she stumbles, “Go. I’ll be out. Give me a second.”

He nods with a grin as his hands fall to his side and he exits.

“My God!” Margret whispers exasperated, eyes boggling out of her head. She falls back into bed, putting her hands over her face and allows a giggle to slip through her lips. ‘’He is too much,” she whispers from under her breath, then throwing the blanket to her feet and popping out of bed she races into the restroom. Opening a drawer, she grabs a brush out, no stranger to the upscale futuristic hide out. It feels like an apartment, you'd find a millionaire's high rise in Manhattan, with added bonus features from a 'Futurama Techy'.  She brushes her teeth, gargles, spits into the sink and then hurries off making her way down the bare hallway to the dining room.

When Zulima works with Margret, they often find themselves cooking meals together; However, Colm sat at the table already dressed for occasion with white table cloth and plates covered with a silver lid, waiting to expose its treasures underneath. In addition, wine glasses held her favorite, orange juice, and of course a glass of water, just as she had every morning, accompanied by a tea cup riding a saucer, waiting for the hot coffee to fill it; The silverware lines perfectly next to the shining plate, keeping the cloth napkin warm.

Margret, uncomfortable, slides into the chair and folds her hands into her lap as she ogles Colm, who warmly smiles at her while removing the lid off his plate. Margret follows his lead and removes the lid, staring at her preferable breakfast choices; Scramble eggs covered in shredded cheddar cheese, strawberries and a sausage link. She swiftly moves her head to him and he simply grins with a nod as he picks up his fork. “Not just orange juice either,”  he points to the glass, “Mimosa. Your special breakfast treat!”

 Margret starts to pick up her fork but drops it back to the plate as she decides to boldly speak, “Okay, this intuition crap is bull. What kinds of extensive research have you done on me and how? Is your gift psychic or something?” she breaks for a moment but then decides to add, “This whole thing of giving me all my favorites is just weird and creepy, you know this, right?”    

He takes a bite of his eggs and eats while gazing at her with a smug look, swallowing the egg and while pointing his fork down for another a bite he mentions, “Eggs are not so bad. I was skeptical about eggs and cheese. Both. Together and apart. But these aren’t too bad.” He takes another bite as her eyes still lock on him, adding, “I could get used to it. Eating the eggs,” he clarifies, “Maybe we should bring chickens to Cepae? They should be able to survive.”

Margret gasp from the thought, “First, don’t think I didn’t noticed you totally avoided my questions. Second, you should not mix species in different areas of the earth, let alone another planet, for conservation reason and echo system – so I am sure you should probably not take chickens to your planet.” Turning away from him, she takes a bite of her eggs.

“Our planet.” He subtly arrogantly corrects her. She slightly frowns at him with annoyance as he smirks with satisfaction, “Actually they would survive just fine. Yes, some Earth animals can tip the echo system when natural predators are extracted or added; but it  also can work.” He confirms as she surveys him doubtfully, “As example, there are a few handfuls of animals on your planet you haven't realized came from other planets, Cepae being one of those planets.”

“Really?” She challenges.

Colm accepts the debate, “Where do you think Harpy Eagles, Kagus, Quols, Tamarins, and Horses came from? Cepae. They did not originate on your planet.”

“I have no idea what that kind of eagle is, a“Kagoo”, a “Qua” and whatever the other thing was you mentioned; but I know what a horse is, so let's start there. You are trying to tell me horses came from Cepae?”  She confronts doubtfully.

Colm exhales with a smile as he takes a sip of his drink. The beaming smile on his face acknowledges his flawless accusation.

“Unbelievable.” Margret shakes her head. She bites her lip at the thought and follows suit, sipping on her orange juice. The alcohol in it could perhaps take an edge off of the nerves she was feeling.  She studies him as he shoveled some food gracefully in his mouth, wondering how those two things were a possibility.

“Want to know something more unbelievable?” Colm ask leaning in from across the table as he acts like he is about to share top secret information.  Margret raises her eyebrows inviting his gossip, “When they, the horses, came to Earth they were actually Unicorns and Pegasus.” He whispers with a sudden bust of laughter, gallantly resting back in his chair, taking another sip of his drink.

Margret slightly gives a laughing sigh not sure if he is antagonizing her. “That would be hard for a human to comprehend.” She forces a small chuckle with her eyebrow slightly raised hoping he will disclose if he was at all serious. The notion that horses were once Unicorns or Pegasus sounded ridiculous; but after all that Margret has witnessed over the last years, she couldn’t throw the notion entirely out the window. “You, know, growing up unicorns were my favorite…” she begins as she reminisces to the past... but suddenly stops and her eyes meet his. He is leaning into the table, his face beaming, as if she has already disclosed the childhood story. She pauses and scratches the back of her neck slightly feeling uneasy. “Did you already know that too? My story? You knew I used to collect unicorns as a child?” she snaps sounding much more annoyed than she had intended.

He sits back, “It is true. Not that I already knew your story, I’m not admitting that is true; but I am admitting that the horses were really once Unicorns or Pegasus.” He says matter fact. He studies her for a moment, she holding her scowl as her wine glass twirls between her fingers.  

“They found their way through the portals.” He decides to continue hoping to bring light conversation back in the environment, “Some, the Unicorns and Pegasus, decided to leave and we, the Cepaeans, did not interfere with their destiny. They were leaving to fulfill a purpose and their souls knew it. Some stayed in Cepae and some came to the Earth. The earth atmosphere, grain of the earth, evolved them to what you call horses these days; born without wings or a horn. Parts of their roots lost,” he pauses for a slight moment and then ads, “As yours had been, Margret. You were born without your wings, so to say.” He tries to find her eyes with his, but she continues to peer away.

Margret ponders on his words for a second and then finally decides she is more uncomfortable with his serious inquiry then his over the top advances. She lightly ask, “So were they all white? Unicorns and Pegasus? Born different colors, brown, black…over the years?” She fragments her words, taking another sip of her mimosa.

Colm shakes his head, “No. They were never all white. They come in all colors. Even pink.”

Margret fascinated by the information meets her eyes back to his, “Oh, I wouldn’t have guessed that they would…”

Colm lets out a loud chuckle interrupting her thought, “No, there are no pink unicorns.” He laughs,   “All your standard horse colors and markings you see on earth are mostly the same on Cepae.” He grins.

Margret feels her face flush, embarrassed she believed for a slight moment in pink unicorns. Then she playfully ads, “Well, we do have pink unicorns here on Earth.”

Colm, “Oh yes?” he encourages her to finish her thought.

“Yes, they are called My Little Ponies, “ Margret punches with a wide grin on her heart shaped face.

Colm bust out in laughter, “I have never heard of such an odd thing but the vision of it is wonderful.  Your wit is endearing, Margret.”      

Margret smiles at the compliment but suddenly turns straight face when she realizes he has mentioned a vision of the My Little Pony. She picks up a strawberry to take a bite, then once again catches her gumption to ask questions. “Are you a mind reader?”

“A mind reader?” Colm repeats with hesitation. “No, I’m not a mind reader.” He confirms.

“Don’t you think I deserve to know how you…. Know… all this?” she points to all the food at the table. “How can you know my images and thoughts if you are not a mind reader?”

“You will begin to understand these things once we arrive to Cepae.” He stands up and begins grabbing his plate to clear it.  “It is nothing I can explain to you. I apologize that it frustrates you; however, it is my way life, I don’t intend to be intrusive.” He admits factually turning his body towards the kitchen.

“I’m not going to your planet with you. Not until I talk Zulima.” She sternly confirms.

Colm lowers his plate back to the table, gently placing it. He pauses for a moment and then crosses toward her. Each step that brings him closer to her, her heart pace beats faster against her chest. His shirtless body leaves her wet in places that she forgot were alive. He stands before her and kneels down; her heart is going to burst through her chest as he locks eyes, those sapphire eyes, so close, bearing into her soul. Her body becomes heavy, she couldn’t move right now if she tried. He slides his strong hands into hers and holds them on her lap. “Margret,” he begins but hesitates for a moment. His long sandy locks flip in front of his eyes as he drops his head for a moment  to gather his thoughts. Margret’s heart pounds louder against her chest until she can no longer feel her body under her heavy breath.

Colm takes a deep sigh falling back into her eyes. She gravitates toward him as he softly and slowly speaks. “Zulima is delayed. You need to trust me. Will you trust me?” he breaks for a moment as if he needs to insert himself further into her soul. “Please, come to Cepae with me?” his words are steady and soft.

“Um…” Margret whispers for a moment as she processes his words. She feels as though she is two feet outside of her body. Weightless against him, her body has disappeared. It is as if she has become paralyzed,  his words are flying through the air to grasp her ears over the echoes of her beating heart.

“I will take care of you Margret,” he leans his plump lips closer, inches away, his soft breath pressing against her, “Zulima will come home to Cepae soon. You and I can start energizing your soul while we wait. Then, you will return to Earth and continue your journey to keep the Sommer girls from Darkleac’s grasp.” Margret is sure he is touching her cheek but her body feels invisible.  He warmly ads, “Say Yes.”

As the words flow, her mouth doesn’t realize they have taken a journey off her tongue, until faintly she hears herself whisper breathless, “Yes. Yes I will go.”

“Great!” Colm exclaims with a huge clap of his hands quickly standing up with victory.

Margret shakes her head for a moment as if awoken from a trance, back to her body, the numbness is clearing. She stands to her feet quickly “Wait!”

He turns back to her with his piercing eyes and glowing face. “What would you like to know?” he ask as an explanation prompting her to question him.

“How does this all work?” she mutters unsure of her commitment, “I have never space traveled? What happens? Do I need a special suit or something?”

He comes back to her and stands before her taking her hand back into his. She feels slightly faint and dizzy as he pulls her closer. His hand reaches up and she starts to slightly pull away but cannot fight the pressure in her body to stay, “May I?” he softly ask, “You have a piece of hair by your face.” Colm gives a comforting grin waiting for her approval.

She sighs softly, “Yes, I suppose.”

He pushes the strand away from her mouth and slides it behind her ear while rubbing his knuckles down her neck. Margret’s head automatically tilts in his direction as she finds herself  starting to close her eyes, with his reassuring touch. Quickly, she bats them open, trying to stay focused, finding a wide grin upon his face as he stares at her. He pulls his other hand slowly down her arm and now grasp her one hand with both of his, intertwining his fingers between hers, while overlapping his spare hand to cusp them. He pulls her tiny fist to his lips and gently kisses, then calmly affirming, “No, space suits. No rockets. You’ve seen our voyage in the hanger once before. We will go in, sit down, start it, and fly it to the realm portal right outside of here.” He nods toward her making sure she understands. She gives a slight nod back and he continues, “The inside of the ship is fully equipped with our survival needs, including oxygen and gravitational forces. We fly into the portal, I steer us toward the correct realm gateway then in the blink of an eye we enter our galaxy. We then land on Cepae runway, which looks much like Earth’s airports. Safe. With me. Nothing to worry about.” He then gives a small consoling grin and kisses her hand one more time before allowing her to have it.

“Okay,” Margret sighs as she tries to force a smile.

“I can’t wait to kiss you,“ He adds nonchalantly and with an afterthought, “It is so hard for me to not kiss you. You are dashing!”

Margret heavily sighs and rolls her eyes, “Stop.” She demands, more playfully this time. “I’m going to get dressed.” She announces turning away from him. She stops at the doorway to grab one last gander, feeling his eyes upon her. He stands, staring at her and swipes his long locks away from his face with his crooked grin. “And stop looking at me like that!” she tries to scold but breaks into her own crooked smile before she turns away.

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Realm Komiks Prequel New Worlds; Chapter 5: Queen Sultana

Chapter 5:

Queen Sultana

The large room is uncomfortably quiet as eyes move to one another, as if a synchronizing clock fastened to a ticking time bomb and bragging about it. Bruinen shifts in his seat uncomfortable from the silence of the room and notices others doing the same.

The tall lengthy man, the Earthlings refer to as the President of the United States, appears to age ten years in less than twenty minutes. His face pales as he falls into his seat and drops his hands into his face, rubbing it as he glares up at the table in distress. He sighs but then sits tall and addresses the conference table along with the rest of the entire room.

“I’m the President of the United States.” He pauses, “I am not President of the world or of the galaxy,” he adds as he scans to the Planeteers sitting at the table. “I am one man to represent one country.  As a representative of the United States I would like to deny the entry of vampires on the United States’ soil. All those people,” he gestures to the Earthlings sitting at tables in the audience, “They also represent the United States. We have rules and regulations before writing laws.” He takes a long breath and gazes down to Queen Sultana who already acts to have lost interest in the President’s words. President Cromwell raises his voice slightly as to gather her attention, “This is a matter the United States will vote on and discuss in our own meetings. I invite thoughts among our guest to the table.”

Bruinen watches as Queen Sultana gazes at each individual sizing them up one by one. She knows that the Earthlings have little power against her, that they are about equal to the animals that her world feeds on; Most Planeteers would be more likely to have a fair fight against vampires, especially all working together, if they are on the same team, that is. Bruinen decides to speak and as he begins to form words Nawfar quickly slides her hand to his wrist and tries to nonchalantly shake her head with disapproval. 

The other world leaders exchange glances and in the middle of the awkward silence Queen Sultana rises to her feet. Queen Sultana’s curvy body holds a fitted scarlet dress that hugs her bustier giving her breast a voluptuous appearance. Sleek black feathers overlap one another lining the tip of the bustier slightly shadowing her cleavage and a simple gold pennant dangles off the nape of her neck. She wears her black tresses regally to the side of her pale, oval face fancied with a subtle head piece that gloves her forehead. It slightly hides the blonde solitary trestle that intertwines the raven locks upon her head. Her lips are a swollen luxurious scarlet and contrast against her translucent amber eyes. Her black canine, branded with brown spots over his eyes, observes her slink, while not taking its’ glowing crimson eyes off of her. She waves her arm as a dancer would begin her production, “In this grand room, conquered by silence and fear, I shall be the individual to contain it," she begins, “The reason the silence is so grand is because not all the individuals in this room agree with you, Mr. Cromwell. Not even your own Earthling humans.”

The President stands up, “This is something the United States will discuss in our four walls,” He protest.

“Why not here?” she argues, “Why not NOW? The fear to admit the desires, here in this room,  is frightening for you, is it not?”

A husky woman of Earthling decent pounds her fist on the table agitated and disgusted. Her words are thicker than Cromwell’s and she belts out loudly in distorted “English” words, “This is absurd. We did not invite you vampire lady for a reason,” she throws her index finger toward her; “We need discuss these things without you intimidating presence. You try making us fear you. How vampires come to Earth if they send their queen to represent them with intimidation. You controlled person to not run out of room!” she gestures wildly, “How we trust someone who uses powers to control people against their will? You are not trusted. You need to leave.”

Queen Sultana disrespectfully taps her nails against the wooden table unimpressed.

Another earthling feeds off of her theory. “I agree with President Marina Rocha,” he announces with his thick dialect, “Vampires come from a world that is still mythological to Earthlings. While you have had, perhaps centuries, of dealings with Earthlings we have only had short years to grasp the reality of you, Queen Sultana; some Earthlings still do not know the realities of you or any of the Planeteers. We, in this room, still do not know what all you Planeteers are capable of.” He reminds everyone as he scans the room.

Queen Sultana begins crossing to the other side of the table as she lowers her four legged beast to stay. “Earthlings have had centuries, your time, to deal with our kind. You have written books and made films for your brain washing media screens. You have chosen to ignore the reality that is in front of your faces…” Sultana begins to lean into the suited man whom the Earthlings refer to as President Andre` Roux of an Earth land named France. She lowers her face close to his throat while intertwining her twiggy fingers through his tie.

Bruinen grits his teeth as his patience has worn thin for her intimidations to the Earthlings and he notices that the other Planeteers are also growing impatient with her tactics.

“Enough Sultana!” Bruinen uncontrollably slams his fist against the table. Nawfar shoots him a glare that could eat through his deep navy eyes. Bruinen avoids Nawfar's eyes as he rises to his feet. “Enough, Sultana. You’re continuing browbeating is demoralizing.”

Sultana briskly turns in Bruinen’s direction as a hunter whom found its’ meal for the day. “Bruinen.” She confirms and then adds, “This business doesn’t concern you or your kind. Sit down,” she demands. Sultana begins to raise her hand to take him off his feet but he emits his hand towards her and she suddenly struggles as Bruinen fills her lungs with blood from her latest digestion, knowing it will only hold the corps momentarily. She gasps for a moment but then gains control. She delivers an unconscious growl as her body flings towards Bruinen over the table and grasps her hands around his throat, her maroon nails sinking into his chocolate skin and her hungry, golden eyes gaze into his. Without hesitation, Nawfar instantaneously stands smashing the leg from under her wooden chair and extorting it to her small hands. Without skipping a beat she grabs Sultana by her perfectly executed hairdo, pulls her head back while pressing the chair leg against her back, left side, “Let go of him if you want to walk out of here alive,” Nawfar threatens.

Sultana’s dog promptly stands on his feet and begins to growl, nostrils flaring with slobber drooling between its’ sharp teeth.

The room is still and the tension is thick.

Sultana pushes back on Bruinen releasing him from her grips. She raises her hands in a surrendering position.

“Step away from him,” Nawfar commands, “Far away from him.”

Bruinen gazes around the room of silence as everyone watches the situation intently.  Sultana backs off the table and then retreats next to her canine. Her dog gives the palm of her hand a slight lick to reassure itself his owner’s safety. She softly pats its’ head as she shoots daggers into Nawfar and Bruinen’s eyes. President Cromwell slides a new chair behind Nawfar whom acknowledges the kind gesture and calmly grins at him as she lowers herself with her personal victory. Bruinen kisses Nawfar’s forehead as he places himself in his seat next to her.

“Enough Queen Sultana,” commands a Planeteer at the end of the table. It was Father Onofre, of the Cepae Planet, as close to Acquavodo that Earth is to Saturn. “Queen Sultana,” he addresses, “You have validated the fear of the humans. I assume you are satisfied with your latest triumph. Now, you shall excuse yourself and exit quietly. We are joining of peace, and you bring nothing to this table but a vampiress’ darkness.”

Sultana cackles a wicked laugh and announces between her teeth, “IF ONLY EVERYONE WANTED ME TO LEAVE.” The room goes into mild chatter and confusion. “Unfortunately for all of you, there are Earthlings sitting in this room right now that are enchanted by my elegance and ravishing to learn more of my kind. Some of you want to be like me.” She smirks toward an Earthling of royalty sitting at the table. He nervously denies the accusation.

Sultana slinks around the table rubbing her fingers on the shoulders of the leader’s neck that she has brought attention to. “I’ll visit you for a private meeting later,” she daunts in his ear as her eyes meet the others with a conquering grin on her face. He shakes his head again to confirm his innocence.

“Sultana, Enough.” Onofre demands once again now standing to his feet.

Bruinen studies Father Onofre, of the Cepae Planet, keepers of universal peace. His long white hair draped to the back of his neck and connected to his gangling beard. He wore a long gold and white iridescent robe with bronze sandals. He appears as a representation of what millions of Earthlings envision a God of their world to be, a ruler that a magnitude of Earthlings worship without witnessing a visible being. Onofre glides toward Sultana whom in return slowly and almost unnoticeable takes tiny steps away from him.

“Onofre.” She smiles before speaking, “There are those here…”

Onofre interrupts her abruptly, “Queen Sultana, you have made your point very clear. However, this is a meeting of alliances, not to negotiate building your personal army.”

“The Earthlings in…” she begins and Onofre again cuts her off.

“We have sat here and listened, quietly and inattentively to your dealings, your darkness only brings ill intentions to the PPT alliance. You are not welcomed. Leave.”

Bruinen stares more intently as the eyes in the room shift between Queen Sultana and Father Onofre; the two bodies challenge one another’s occupancy.

Sultana suddenly burst out into an uncomfortable laughter as Onofre begins walking back to his seat and lowering himself next to his two Cepaen people. Onofre ignores her laughter as he gracefully sits.

“Another time then?” she smirks. “There are deals to be made and I shall make my presence known when it is time.”

Onofre glares towards Sultana and then inattentively looks away and toward his Cepaen co-ruler, Chesna. Bruinen watches as Chesna softly places her hand on top of Onofre’s and gently strokes it with her thumb.

“Leeke, come.” Sultana commands of her four legged friend that follows her toward the door. She then pauses at the screen, hanging down from its metal stand, and turns slowly toward the crowd. “Oh, yes…” she begins as though it is an afterthought, “I was curious, ‘Planeteers’, if that is what you want to call your little universal organization;” she mocks, “What were the Earthlings’ reaction of the secret gateways that are spread through their world? It must have been shocking for them to discover  their Bermuda Triangle isn’t the only portal of travel to other planets.” she pats her canine on the base of his body as she smirks, “I hope that conversation is going well. Have an excellent meeting.”

As Queen Sultana finishes her antagonizing revelation with a sly grin Earthlings throughout the room are already fracturing the possibility. Bruinen watches as the Planeteers share glances and when Bruinen raises his head back toward Sultana she has already vanished.

“Calm people. Calm.” A female Earthling whom fashions a tiny diamond crown on her head insists. “Planeteers, we have things to discuss and I suggest it happen now.”

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Realm Komiks Prequel New Worlds; Chapter 4: Intuition

Chapter 4:

Intuition 

The dark cloudy night shadows dance through the woods, making it appear to be darker through the trees than it actually is. The fall leaves crunch under Margret’s feet as she stops for a moment and stares through the darkness. She slowly turns her head to a row of trees in a straight line, their roots over lapping one another, entwining into the ground.

“One. Two. Three. Four.” She counts to herself following the trees down the line with her index finger. She drags her feet past the drooping limbs and stops at the fourth tree, pulling out her phone and text, I’m here, but before she can slide her fingers to the SEND key the ground rumbles from beneath her feet and slowly begins lowering her beneath its surface. Margret gazes up to the clouded moon through the trees before it disappears, the circular door sliding closed above her.

She is lowered into a silver room with remotes systems lining the wall. She steps off the moving deck as it descends into the floor giving a bump against the ground. “Hello?” she calls out.

A tall male figure appears from the shadows. He glides towards Margret, faintly smiling at her. “It’s Colm. Zulima is with Onofre and Chesna at the PPT meeting in Washington D.C.”

“Oh,” Margret slightly squirms uncomfortable with the new face; However, Colm was the most beautiful man she had ever witnessed. His sandy locks were pushed away from his heart shaped face, except the lock that drooped in front of his piercing sapphire eyes. His lips were luscious as his bottom lip slightly perched from above his chin, extending his perfect jawline. Margret met only a few, from Cepae Planet, and though they are extraordinary beautiful she had never met anyone from appearing close in her age.

“I uh….” Margret begins losing her words.

Colm burst out into an uncomfortable laughter, gazing toward Margret, who is confused by his sudden light heart manner.

Colm approaches her, standing inches from her. She can feel his breath on her neck. “I feel it too.” He whispers past her ear, leaning back to capture the expression on her face. “Now let’s get to business.” his eyebrow slightly raises.

Margret’s face flushes as she feels her body temperature elevate. “I uh…what do you…um...” she continues struggling for words.

Colm softly speaks, “Margret, I’m a Cepaean. Follow me, I need to heal you. Your body needs some water and food too.”

Margret, still feeling confused by his reaction to her, hesitantly follows him to the other room. She doesn't have the best history with men, quite clumsy and not the most graceful for someone who is supposed to be part Cepae. Cepaens were elegant, graceful, and enchanting. She knows she isn’t 'ugly' but she doesn't consider herself beautiful either. Definitely not enchanting. She is confident in herself, and her brain, until she gets around a man she has a crush on, that is a  situation that doesn't present itself often. She always has other things to focus on, such as most recently, staying alive. This beautiful man, that guides her to the dining area, acts as though he has a secret about her, that even she doesn't  not know. “What did he mean, ‘it’s okay he feels it too.’”

Colm pulls out a chair for her where water sits in a fancy wine glass accompanied cubes of cheese, “Cheese your favorite.” He assures as he motions for her to sit down.

Margret glares at him suspiciously. She isn’t sure Zulima even knew cheese was her snack of choice; Of course Margret usually has her cheese snack with a glass of red wine that follows a long day of work and school. This set up is okay, considering she has a bullet wound, the last thing she needs is alcohol.

“I have some wine in the kitchen. I’ll grab us glass after I heal you.” He says as if it is a passing thought.

Margret tilts her head in confusion, surprised by his revelation but feels she can't speak at this moment. It feels as though she is in an episode of the Twilight Zone, even weirder than the first time she had met Zulima, two years ago.

“May I?” Colm politely ask as he gestures to lifting up the bottom of her shirt.

“Um, yes, okay.” Margret agrees as she lifts the bottom of her shirt, exposing the gun wound. “I stuck my apron against it to help with the bleeding.”

Colm gazes at Margret intently and slowly pulls her shirt up to her chest. “Let’s take it off. You need a new one anyway.”

Margret stares at him for a moment and then hesitatingly lifts her arms up, allowing him to pull the
t-shirt over her head, squirming for a moment as she sits in her pink laced bra feeling exposed.

Colm gently removes her apron from around her, staring into Margret’s caramel eyes. She winces, the apron had formed a small seal of dry blood to the fabric. “Sorry,” he whispers. “I’m trying to be gentle.”

Margret nods, “It’s okay.”

“I’m going to place my hands on you now. I assume you know how this works from watching Zulima?” Colm questions.

“I’ve seen her in action a few times.” Margret tries to grin through the pain as the wound oozes.

Colm nods seriously, placing both his hands over the wound. His hands glow a faint yellow, the brightness covering her abs, and her skin slowly begins to heal under his palms. Colm continues to hold her gaze until the energy in his hands become faint.

“All better.” He grins as he pulls his hands away. “Souvenir?” he jokes opening  his hands, revealing the shell to the bullet in his palm.

Margret relieved, returns the smile, “No, thank you.” taking a drink of water.

Colm stands up and walks toward the kitchen. “I will go grab those glasses of wine and a shirt,” then pauses catching her eyes for a moment, “though... I do like you without one.”

Margret feels her cheeks flush and she can’t help but to quickly turn away from his hungry eyes.  “Are we the only ones here?” she ask searching the bunker with her wondering eyeballs.

“Yes, we are.” Calls Colm from the other room. “Why? Were you hoping to take advantage of me?” he smirks, returning in the door way, teasing as he reenters with two crystal wine glasses, a bottle of wine and a white tank thrown over his arm.

“Well, aren’t you a bit forward and obviously not humble?” Margret manages to blurt out sounding more confident than what she feels.

Colm smirks with his crooked smile and perfect white teeth. “Only a tank. It will do?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Margret pouts taking the tank quickly and sliding it over her head, continuing to study Colm as he uncorks the red wine. He slides the glass toward her and with perfection pours the wine into the glasses. He then pulls the chair out from behind him and perches into it as he takes a drink of his wine.

Margret follows his suit, taking a sip of hers and setting it on the table. She fumbles with the base between her fingers as she locks eyes with him. Leaning into the table, he posts his strong chin on his fist and gives a boyish grin, “Margret.” He sighs as though her name has taken refuge in his heart.

Margret is taken back, suddenly sitting up straight, prepping herself as she once again finds her cheeks flushed. “Colm.” She pauses staring up at him, his grin wider as he catches her undivided attention. Without hesitation she finds herself blurting out, “Okay, why are you acting so weird?” quickly to cutting to the chase. “I have a thousand questions and you are acting like a school boy with a first crush.”

Colm rapidly sits up and straightens himself. “Am I making you uncomfortable?” he ask sincerely. 

Margret hesitates for a moment and then decides to be honest, “Yes, you are.”

Colm studies her for a moment and then gives a slight grin as if he holds a secret no one else knows. “Ask.” He suggests.

“Well...” Margret hesitates once again. “Why didn’t I know he was coming? You know...”

“Zulima tried to contact you. There was no way she could get there in time. You weren’t answering your phone.”

“But,” Margret begins, then softly ask, “But why didn’t I know? I could have stopped him. I could have stopped it.” She began to mumble as her voice trails off. “I failed. I don’ even know if the girls made it.”

Colm takes a deep breath as he sees Margret’s distress. “First, the girls did make it. They are unharmed and safe.”

Margret gives a sigh of relief as Colm continues, “Margret you are losing your intuition. As soon as it has come to you, it is fading, and will continue to fade the longer you live on your planet.”

Margret bites her lip in confusion, “But why?”

Colm leans in to her and touches her lips. She jerks back without anticipation and he grins at her.

Margret gazes at him annoyed, “Please stop. I have a lot of questions that need to be answered. And, well, frankly I just met you, Colm. You have to be one the ballsiest guys I have ever met.”

He smirks as he leans back into his chair and fixes on her eyes.

Margret grumbles, “And stop looking at me like that.”

“And how is that?” Colm patronizes.

Margret rolls her eyes, “Can you just answer my questions, please?”

“You gained your full intuition at puberty and now the longer you stay here on this Earth the more it is going to fade; it can become obsolete. Zulima wants you to come to our planet and strengthen your energy. She wants you to re-energize your light, if you are able to embrace it, you will raise your intuition levels and perhaps some other ‘gifts’ our species practice.”

“Go to your planet?” Margret gasps. “What about the girls? I have been through too much with the Darkleac to just leave.” Margret rises to her feet.

Colm stops her with his hand. “Margret. Listen. Zulima has sent someone else from our planet to currently keep watch of those girls. They are too valuable to the future. Our planets future. Your intuition and light source can’t protect them at this point. It is too week. Both their parents died today,” Margret gasp as Colm continues, “It is only a matter of time before Darkleac figures out who his targets actually were and that they made it out alive. It is only a matter of time that he finds out you have made it out alive.”

Margret considers Colm’s words and slides back into her chair. She takes a long drink of her wine and Colm decides to continue talking, “You will come back with me, you are my soul mate.” He beams at her with a hint of sarcasm.

Margret uncontrollably spits out her wine and then chokes on what made it down the wrong pipe. He pats her on the back and hands her a napkin. She quickly wipes her face and nose. When she is sure she is presentable she snaps her head to his grinning face.

“We’ll go in the morning.” He smirks.

“Excuse me?” Margret questions in disbelief. “I need to talk to Zulima before I leave my planet.”

“Zulima's busy with the mother and father of our lands; In Washington D.C., remember,” he patronizes once again. “Would you like to go ahead and sleep in my bed with me?”

Margret’s mouth drops open and Colm laughs as he closes it with his two index fingers.

“Have you lost your mind?” Margret gasps.

“No, but you lost your intuition and you will never know if I’m patronizing you or completely serious unless you come back to my planet. With me. Tomorrow.”

Margret grunts with her arms folded, “Well, if I do come tomorrow, it will be so I can return to my planet to watch over those girls and protect them from Darkleac, not to have some rendezvous with you, Colm.”

He leans in closely to her, “It is truly amazing to see someone, with Cepae blood, to have such a hot temper so quickly. Keepers of peace don’t fight with one another. They just accept what is.” He leans in closer to her and stops inches away from her lips. Margret goes to pull back but the force of energy she feels in her heart, beating into her stomach, freezes her in place. He stares into her eyes intently and she feels as though he has literally left his body and peering into her soul. Her body feels full and heavy for a moment as her breathing increases. Colm then quickly breaks the bond by leaning in, kisses her on the cheek and then stands up from his chair. “Good night Margret.”

She raises her head to look at him, embarrassed that the lust in her eyes is transparent.  He chuckles as he strolls through the kitchen and almost out of sight but then pauses and turns back at her. “Would you like me to walk you to your room?” he raises his eyebrows.

“Um, no I’ve got it.” Margret sputters out while trying to sound stern. She quickly pushes herself up from the chair and hurries in the opposite direction, “Good night.” She calls back as she scurries for her bedroom before her body takes control and clutches onto him.

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Realm Komiks Prequel New Worlds; Chapter 3: Living Among Us

Chapter 3:

Living Among Us

Ocean waves gently beat against the side of the boat as nine year old Janet leans over throwing bread into the air and watching as the Seagulls swoop in to catch it.

A few seagulls suddenly act as if they become irritated and head towards shore. “What is it guys?” The petite nine year old questions as if they can comprehend her worry for their well being.

Janet’s ears begin to faintly ring and she gazes into the sky as the sun catches her eyes causing her to squint. She shields the rays with her hand as she struggles to peer into the sky, with enough time to see the back of three foreign objects skirr across the clouds. The silver robotic space crafts disappear as quickly as they had appeared.

“Wow” she manages to gasp as they pass overhead.

She lingers in awe for a moment and then scrambles to the lower deck of the medium sized fishing boat.

“Daddy! Daddy!” She exclaims almost falling down the stairs.

“Careful Janet!” her mother reprimands as she strategically places hot scrambled eggs next to the bacon on a blue plastic plate.

“Sorry, mom!” Janet mentions nonchalant and she bounces over to her father. “Daddy!” she exclaims once again to make sure she has his undivided attention.

He smiles at her from over his steamy coffee cup and iPad where he is reading the morning news. “Listening,” he affirms while staring into Janet’s beady brown eyes.

“I just saw them!” she exclaims, “There were three flying over head!” she gestures up the stairs. “They are here! They are all coming! Quick let’s turn on the news and see if we can see anything!”

He starts to rise from the table bench out of the corner when, Susan, Janet’s mother, traps him with the plate of breakfast. “First we all eat as a family.” She demands. “This silly alien crap can wait.”

Daniel pushes himself back into his seat. “Your mother is right, Janet,” he affirms to her pleading eyes. “Let’s eat and then we will follow up on things.”

Janet plops herself into the bench next to her father as her mother brings her plate and sits down across from them. Janet quickly begins scarfing down her food.

“Janet.” Her mother warns “Lady bites.” She reminds her.

Janet gives an annoying sigh as her eyes shift to her father and he gives her another affirming nod. Janet begins taking smaller bites. “Do you think we will get to see any of the aliens on the news?”

Daniel goes to answer and Susan interrupts. “Really? Are we going to discuss aliens at our morning breakfast?”

Daniel confirms, “Would you prefer we talk about the weather?” Susan glares at Daniel. “So yes, we are going to discuss aliens with bacon. Morning conversation on any stature could be enjoyable.”

Janet gives a satisfied grin and she pushes into her father.

“Only encouraging the child, Daniel. Aliens are ludicrous. This whole government set up and space travel they are trying to form is only going to bring trouble.”

Daniel nods, “Perhaps; But humans can’t stay ignorant any longer to the fact that we aren’t God’s only prized positions.”

Susan scoffs as she takes a drink of her coffee.

Janet questions, “Mom, why do you hate this all so much? I mean, they think we are already living with aliens on our planet! What if someone we know is an alien?”

Janet’s mom gazes at her crossly and snaps, “Janet that is absurd.  Speaking of those kinds of crazy things is going to only put you in the crazy house like your great grandmother.”

“Don’t tell Janet things like that.” Daniel intervenes while he kindly rubs Janet’s back “You are not going into to any mental institutions, you are not crazy.” He assures her.  “You are staring reality in the eye. This is what it is happening today, this isn’t written in the books.” He pats Janet’s leg for a last bit of reassurance and sighs as he chews down some of his bacon. “Fact is Sue, rather you like it or not, this is happening. The world is changing and we can either accept it and move forward with it, or let the world pass us by and choose to live in a bubble.”

“Dad?” Janet raises her eyebrow as she shoves the last bit of egg into her mouth, “I’m done.”

“You know what? I’m finished after this last bite too,” he smiles with his last bite and shoves it into his mouth. “Why don’t you get up and I’ll follow.”

Janet hops out from the bench and walks over to the small couch with a TV. The blue futon has a blanket propped next to it for easy access when it is needed as a bed. Susan glares at Daniel, disapproving, and she grabs the dishes from the table, making sure to clatter them loudly, trying to prove her point. Daniel grabs his coffee from the table. “Sue…” he looks at her. 

“No, Daniel, don’t.” She tries to stand her ground.

“Sue….” He lovingly affirms. “Harmless.” He whispers as he kisses her on the forehead.

She grins back at him slightly and shakes her head. She pushes his long locks of dark hair out of his eyes and slides her hand down his scruffy face and then further before it stops on the strong arm under his short sleeve, grey T-shirt. He closes his eyes for a brief moment, embracing her soft touch. She gently squeezes his muscle. “Keep that girls head out of the clouds.” She softly speaks asking for reassurance of her daughters well being.

Daniel nods, “This girl wants nothing more than facts.” He faintly smiles and then adds  “Isn’t that right Janet?” as he leans over calling into her ear and shifting his eyes back to Susan. Janet is already propped in front of the small computer TV.

“Yup, that’s right daddy! Just the facts.” She grins passively as she leans back to the TV and then with a side note she adds, “And a visual of these things would be great. Why aren’t they showing them getting off those space crafts?”

Susan turns away and continues working on the dishes. She tries to refrain from rolling her eyes but the gesture happens involuntary.

Daniel walks over to Janet, “Turn it up. Seeing anything?”

Janet turns up the volume, “They aren’t showing anything really, just all the people that are in front of the congress building. Protesters and some weirdos that are alien lovers – oh, see there!” she quickly points as the screen tracks past the spectators. “They are wearing crazy outfits and holding ‘Love the Aliens’ signs and such. Look at their crazy clothes.”

Daniel nods, “Yes, well, with something like this I am sure you will get many flavors of people in one area. Security is everywhere.,” he points out, “ You know, they will probably show more interesting facts later in the day; If you just saw those things fly over ahead not long ago, they will have to land and all that jazz. Why don’t we head up and take the boat out for a bit, see what we catch and then come down later for some updates.”

Janet hesitantly nods. “Um, okay” She agrees.

Daniel follows Janet upstairs as he leads her from the small of her back. He pauses and glances back at Susan. “You will be up soon? Need help first?”

“Nah, I got it.” She grins, “Be up.”

Daniel leans down part of the steps while bracing himself against the tiny banister.  He pushes her long chocolate hair from the base of her neck. “See ya up there, mate.” He whispers into her ear as he kisses the base of her neck. He leans back and gazes into her gray eyes for a moment and then he hurries up the stairs calling to Janet. Susan gives a faint smile as he disappears to the top of the boat. She then finishes drying the dishes with the towel and places them on the drying mat. Her hour glass body shifts as she gazes up the stairs to assure that her family is releasing the anchors from the dock and will not be returning soon. She slinks over to the small screen and watches intently. The newscaster tries to narrate as another foreign object takes shape in the background of the congress building.  “I’ll be damn,” Susan gasp from under her breath, “Grandma, you may have not been too crazy after all.”

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Realm Komiks Prequel New Worlds; Chapter 1: Live Like it is your Last

CHAPTER 1:

Live Like it is your Last

The sun shined sideways through the windshield of our Dodge Durango blinding me past my dark sunglasses for a moment. The chatter of my two daughters, Fionna and Lorna sounded muffled as I gazed over at my poker face husband. His black hair combed backed with shiny tints of silver bouncy off the suns peaking rays. A man I had been married to for fifteen years and never knew he had a mistress; had a child in another country somewhere.

His dark glasses shade his hazel eyes and he turns his head toward me giving a slight grin. I think I am going to smack him in the face as my body tenses and my hands clutch. He leans in and slides his thick fingers in between my fragile hands; as I go to jerk away he holds my hand firmly in position. “We are going to make it through this.” He mumbles in a humble tone, enough for my ears to grasp the words but for our unbeknownst daughters to stay ignorant of our current situation.

The Durango slows down as we enter into the restaurant parking lot and he slides the Durango into the spot as easy as he probably found himself sliding into her. I shiver from the thought and once again try to pull away from his grasp. He jerks my hand firmly once again and sets it on his thigh as he removes his sunglasses and slowly shakes his head. His hazel eyes pierce through my skin and twist my stomach into different directions. “Don’t” he sternly mouths and then shoots his eyes from the girls back to me again.

My eyes quickly shoot back to the girls and then back to him. He puts the SUV into park and shuts off the engine while he continues to hold his eyes on mine. Fionna is already helping her sister out of her car seat. My girls are like Yin and Yang but I hardly find them on opposite ends of an argument. Fionna takes her big sister role seriously and must be one of the most patient children I have ever known, most adults can’t even begin to practice the patience she has mastered. If she were a peer of mine I would perhaps be envious.

“Let’s go!” Fionna shouts as she pops open her door. Lorna follows her out of the backseat.

I give my husband one more glare of disapproval and lean toward my door handle.

“Leslie, for the girls.” He mutters towards me.

For the first time I am in agreement since I found out his dirty secret he has kept from me for almost a decade, “For the girls.” And then I manage from under my breath, “For now.”

He pauses but I am already out of the SUV chasing the girls up to the door.

'Motsy’s' is a cute local sports bar we have been going to for years. The walls are decorated with our local rival college basketball teams. TVs with the nationwide sports posted to each screen along with the World News and a couple TV shows for those patrons that are less interested in sports. The girls love the attention they receive from the staff and the greasy food and wings are delicious.

Fionna has long blonde hair and big blue eyes. She resembles me much as a child. She is a dainty little girl that prefers to wear very plain clothes. She wears jeans, plain sneakers, a plain pale blue t-shirt with her long blonde, straight hair dangling over her shoulders. She is eight now. The oldest eight years old I had ever met. I think if she were able to go out and get a job now she would. Set up house, pay bills and become a teacher maybe? Sometime I think she appears more adult than I do with her subtle motherly instincts she shows toward Lorna. I adore Fionna and wear her like a gold star pin around my friends. The girls are able to sit back and have a couple glasses of wine and leave an eight year old in charge of four kids in the other room without bickering and fighting being heard. I know I have won the child lottery with her and often wonder if it is possible that God has given me an angel from heaven.

“Hello Sommer family!” Margret greets with an ear to ear smile on her round face.

“Hello Margret!” Fionna grins

“Hi Margret!” Lorna screams as she goes in for a hug.

Margret is our regular waitress at 'Motsy’s' and has been for the last three years. I adore Margret. She is a perky twenty-one year old working her way through college. She is going to college to become a nurse.

“Hi, Margret, how are you tonight?” I smile as if my world hadn’t just been turned upside down.

“Margret. Good seeing you,” my husband smiles assuring.

Margret leads us across the well-lit sports bar to a side booth we sit in regularly when we come. She is chatting away to the girls and I feel “him” put his hand on the small of back as if he is leading me through the room. I want to shake him off of me. He throws gasoline on an already lit fire every time he touches me. His mere presence currently has every spike protruding from my fort, ready for an invasion; Warriors working on the inside building the walls up higher and higher to keep him away from my treasured heart.

We climb into the booth in our regular seats. Margret is quite familiar with our drink and food orders and assures us she will be back with the drinks in a few.

Fionna immediately pulls out the crayons and begins coloring with Lorna.

My husband, the man I married, his name is Derrick. A business man. He comes from a wealthy family. Yes, Derrick. The love of my life.  The one who I have entrusted with my heart, soul, finances and children….

“Leslie” he bumps my arm

“Huh?” lost in my thoughts, I am startled.  I focus my eyes back to the little sports bar. Fionna and Lorna’s wide eyes stare up at me; Margret's pen twirling around her lips is gazing at me.

“Do you want the same thing as always?” Derrick stares at me as though he is concern of my well-being.

“Hmmmm…” I say. “I was thinking…. And I’m thinking to change it up a bit. I’m do for a change.”

Margret gazes at me almost surprised “Sure! What can I get for you?”

“The spicy chipotle chicken with the veggies.” I smirk.

Right on cue Derrick’s eyes fling over to me, “But you don’t like spicy…”

“I do tonight." I abruptly interrupt, "I think there are a lot of new things I’m going to be trying that I usually don’t.” I say dryly.

Derrick glares at me for a moment. I feel the tension in the air and the awkwardness hovering about as Margret’s eyes shift back and forth from Derrick and me. The girls have already opted out of the conversation and are back to their tick tack toe game.

Derrick slowly tilts his mouth into a smile and runs his hand down my leg, gently squeezing my knee. “Spicy Chipotle it is.” He confirms as if I needed his permission.

Derrick leans over and kisses my neck. I almost shutter, but notice Fionna look up and smile with approval, so I grit my teeth and suck it up. I hope he is enjoying his show because he is not sleeping in the same bed with me tonight.

I watch the girls with a small grin on my face as Derrick turns his attention to the sports. Lorna squeals in excitement as she beats her sister in a game. Fionna laughs and offers another game. I am not sure if she has lost willing or gave one to her sister. It is more likely she gave one to Lorna. Lorna is six. She wants to always wear bright flashy colors with either a skirt or dress. The eighty’s coming back in style has bit me in the ass with this little girl. A six year old should not care about fashion this much. She is trendier than I ever was or ever will be. Lorna loves pink. Bright pink. Hot pink. If it is pink she wants it. Stuffed animals, clothes, bedding and most anything else that has ever come in the color pink. She is cute and quirky with a heart bigger than this world.  Everyone is drawn to her immediately and adores her.

“Mom? Dad? “Fionna ask.

“Yes?” I offer. Derrick turns his head in her direction.

“Look.” She points at one of the TVs hanging on the wall. “Do you think we will really be able to travel to other planets?”

I turn my attention to the World News and listen as they converse about the opening found in the Bermuda Triangle. The man and woman argue back and forth if Realm Travel should be allowed. Apparently what they call a “gateway” has been discovered and they are debating opening this “gateway” up to travel to other planets.  I am sure the government has already been using this portal for who knows how long, and we, society, are being allowed to now find out about it. The whole concept is surreal.

I shift my eyes toward Derrick. “Well…” I begin.

Derrick chimes, “Fionna, Girls, if this is a possibility it won’t affect us for years; Maybe one day. I guess anything is possible. You tell me, Fionna, what do you think?”

Fionna bites her lip as she chews on the thought. “Well, we went to the moon. They sent a shuttle to Mars. Maybe?”

Lorna can’t resist the temptation to add her two cents, “I hope the aliens are nice. Maybe aliens are pink?”

Margret begins making her way to our table with a tray of food.

Suddenly a loud POP rings through the air startling everyone around. Margret halts for a moment and then as if it is slow motion the tray she holds tumbles to the floor and falls backwards. People begin diving under tables and running toward the kitchen. 

“POP! POP!”

I am frozen and can not move. What is happening? I feel Derrick’s arm slam over my head and push me under the table as his other hand pulls the girls legs under us.

Screams. Chaos.

“There’s a shooter” he whispers heavily.

It feels like a thousand echoes whispering through my ear. Lorna’s quiet sobs echo in my brain and Fionna’s tight grasp on my arm may hurt, if the adrenaline was pumping through me. Then there are more “POP POP POP” noises. 

They ring above the screams, crashes and furniture tumbling over.  I feel Derrick’s body falls limp over mine. “Oh my God! Was he shot?” my voice exclaims loud in my head.  “He was shot? He was shot! Is he alive?” my voice continued to shout loud in my head muffling out the other terrifying cries that begin to rise around me. My brain is dizzy in circles as it tries to comprehend the situation.

“Mom,” Fionna whispered. She feels her father’s limp body too. She knows...

I want to tell her it is okay. I want to let her know we are going to get through this... but the lump in my throat is a boulder blocking my voice. I am in shock and I am not sure how but I manage to pull the girls in closer under myself and their father’s limp body, trying to shield them.

More…POP…POP…

A bold thrust stings my side, the pain is deep but numbing; I want to scream out but my voice falls into my feet.

Was I shot?

It doesn't hurt, but the I begin to feel nauseated; I am sure if the adrenaline wasn't pumping in my veins, like a rocket to the moon, it would hurt.  

“Mom” I barely hear Fionna whisper under her breath.

I tuck my head down toward her. Lorna curls in a ball trying to stay quiet as she sobs. Fear that I have never met dance in Fionna’s blue eyes as the blue waves began to storm. “I’m okay” I manage to find in my voice “I love you. I love you girls.” 

I feel warmth and wetness against my blouse. It feels as if warm water were dumped inside my shirt and it were seeping to the surface. Little black spots begin to form wherever I try to focus. I think I feel Fionna's small hand press against my side. Her blue eyes hazy under my blurred vision... Harder to breathe. Harder to…

Darkness.

******************************

Margret’s breath is heavy as she manages to crawl out the backdoor and into the alley. She slides behind a large green dumpster, stacking a couple boxes in front of her.  Her knees are wet with the blood that soaked in her jeans as she slid across the bloody restaurant floor.

Margret presses her small hand against her side, examining the blood. She takes off her small apron and firmly presses it against the bullet wound as she pulls her cell phone out of her back pocket. Her finger taps a prompt and holds the phone to her ear as she waits for someone to answer, wincing from the wound in her side.

“Hello” she pauses for a moment, then speaks again, “He found me. He found me and so many people are dead.” She says flatly, disconnected from reality. Pausing for a moment with a defeated sigh she adds, “Meet me at our place in the woods.”

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