Draw the Card

Max lay out on the sofa, remote in hand, resting on his chest. His eyes focused on the screen across the room, images that played out in a colourful symphony of pixelized signatures deciphered by the brain. 

His finger resting on the up channel button like a sniper waiting for the signal.

He was bored and there was nothing else on, but he watched with intent like a beefeater guard showing no emotions. He really didn't know what he wanted to do, and he figured he was too lazy at the moment to do anything about that. 

There was a rap at his door.

Reluctantly, Max sat up and and looked at the door. He stood up and walked over to it, peered through the peep hole to see two young women standing there. High-school or college-aged. Both wearing strange outfits. 

"Max Cube?" the cheerleader asked as he opened the door.

"Yes?" he said, his curiousity piqued. 

"Finally," the girl in the school-uniform said. "We've been trying to locate you for months." 

"What's this about?" he asked. He was starting to feel sorry that he answered the door; these two young girls didn't look like bill collectors or salespeople.

The cheerleader opened up a sling bag, and inside were two guns. They seemed to radiate magic. Max stared at them for several seconds... His eyes widening with horror...

Tis the Reason

Sweating, his arms still shackled to the wall, he was spread-eagle and there was nothing he could do about it.

Hateful, he glared at Morbid. 

The static was broken once more with Frank calling out over the radio, "Max. Where are you?"

Max didn't respond. He just stared at Morbid with a thin grimace on his face. 

"Answer them," Morbid told Max.

The MaX Factor

The summer sun was slipping away, sinking like a ship upon the horizon or more like a drowning man still maintaining life as long as possible. 

Max turned the car down the dirt road, heading up to an old farmhouse. It was old and the windows long since smashed and boarded up. The road hadn't been used in a quite awhile, and the tall grass was rubbing along the underbelly of the car.

He stopped near the front steps and sat in the car, turning it off but keeping the radio on. His fingers drumming to the beat. He looked at the rickety steps leading up to the porch of the house, the rails knocked over and the paint long since vanished. 

He cracked a smile when he heard an old tune on the radio, it brought a floodgate of memories.

His watch began to chime, it was: 9:19. He shut the car off and got out and headed towards the abandoned building. As he touched the first step, he felt the wave of dimensions - it felt like he was stepping through a waterfall into a hidden cave. The steps were painted a fresh white colour, and the lights on the house were on. The door to the house was opened, but the screen door was closed and he could hear the sound of a tv set inside. 

He cracked another smile when he heard a young girl's voice declare, "Uncle Max is here!"

Hiccup

Max braked the car in the mouth of the alley. He found nothing but rain and an empty alley behind the nightclub. It all felt wrong, and he realized that he suspected it was a trap. 

"I'm here," he said to no one in particular.

"I see you," said a voice over the radio. "Get out the car and walk down towards the red door." 

Max reluctantly slid out the car; he glanced around and saw no other movement. He new this was a trap, but he had to play along.

"The red door," the voice on the radio told him. "Now." 

Max whispered slightly, "You with me?"

"Right behind you," Mags' voice whispered softly in his ear.

The Incantationalist

Maggie looked at the maggot on the palm of her hand, staring at it as it wiggled about trying to latch back onto the rotted parcel it was eating. With a tilt of her hand the tiny devourer of flesh rolled into a coffee cup. 

She then plucked a strand of hair from her head and proceed to tie it into three knots. She smiled as she did so, and then added that to the cup.

She reached across the table to obtain the final ingredient. She reached inside the ashtray and took a pinch of it and then dropped it into the coffee mug. She muttered to her self, something that sounded like an incantation. 

She reached over and poured coffee into the mug, and as she did the patterns on the cup began to swirl.

"Perfect," she said. She stirred the cup and then smiled.

Mana Hit

Goner was bored and was tired of riding the rails; it seemed like they were in the car for hours with no end in sight. 

Various platforms phased past the windows, each view a different take on a Salvador Dali painting. He was restless and wanted out, just for a few moments of fresh air.

He glanced around the subway and saw everyone either catching 40 winks or meditating. Except for Aqua who was sitting and listening to her digital audio player. 

"What are you listening to?" Goner inquired. He plopped down in the seat next to Aqua; he could hear the music escaping from the crevices around her ears.

"Mana Junkies," she replied. 

"Those wieners? Man that's crappy music. Why don't you listen to Plastik Kyngs or better yet Dexx3r. They have rad sounds!" he told her. "Mana Junkies. What a wimp ass name for a group."

Pen is Mightier

The doorbell jingled as Darius entered the coffee shop; he stopped and stared at the chime overhead and he marveled at the wonders of a simple device that alerted those within earshot that someone had entered.

With the world constantly spinning ahead in technological wonder, here was an old wind-chime still doing sentry duty. He shook his head. 

He kicked up his skateboard and headed over to a booth, still with a simple smile on his face.

Joan the waitress had a glass of lime water placed at a booth. She proceeded back behind the counter and placed an order without even taking it. 

"You're a saint, Joan," Darius said as he slipped into the booth. And then he chuckled to himself when he realized what he said.

"Thank you, Dar," she replied and flashed him a smile. 

He reached within his pockets and took out an old bible and a pen and a notepad and placed it on the table by the window.

"What do you write in your journal?" Joan pried. She was bored and just wanted to make some small talk. 

"Oh you know, the usual," he started. "Battling demons, fighting hordes of undead zombies, having coffee with an angel."

 

Relish the Thought

"Do you smell that?" Maggie asked. She had stopped and sniffed the air. Max paused to take a sniff, but he couldn't detect anything. 

"What do you smell?" Max inquired. He wiped the brow from his forehead. They still had a little ways to go through the tunnel.

Maggie closed her eyes and took another whiff and then she shook her head. 

"It's mustard dammit," she replied. "A lifetime supply of mustard!"

Visions in Blue

Marty Tambler tried to take the glass of water that was being offered to him, but his hands were still trembling as he reached for it and thought better of it. He waved it away.

"Do you want to continue your story?" the sheriff asked. He was sitting on the edge of his desk, looking down upon Marty. The sheriff was an imposing figure, but that didn't faze him one bit.

Marty took a deep breath and then continued. "Well, one of the eight guys looked ready to kill me, he drew his gun and brought it up to my head. Then a woman's voice from the shadows said, 'I wouldn't do that if I were you.' And that's when everything went to hell in a handbasket."

"She stepped from the shadows, seeming to be glowing in very pale light, she was holding something in her hands, and I heard one of the fellows hiss, 'This is not your fight. Besides this is not even your prime, go back to where you belong.' And she told them 'All primes are mine'.

"I heard someone mention something about a plex-guardian, or something like that, and that's when she went to town on them." 

The sheriff shook his head and then asked, "Is that the way it happened, Marty? You know we will get to the bottom of this."

Marty looked at the sheriff and right into his eyes; the sheriff had been on the force long enough to know this fellow wasn't embellishing his tale one bit. "As God as my witness. He sent an angel to deliver me from those evil bastards."

Crime Scene Investigators

Dream Street. 11:33pm

The emergency lights flickered like distant lightning from an approaching thunderstorm. It was never a good sign when you have over a dozen squad cars lining a section of the street.

"This doesn't look good," Frank muttered as he placed his styrofoam mug of Warbuck's coffee into a holder.

"It never is when there's this many at the scene," Max replied. He saw an opening and made his way there.

Max pulled the car off to the side and stepped out; he rifled through his coat and couldn't find what he was looking for. He checked the dash of the car and saw the package of nails waiting. He grabbed them off the dashboard and lit a cigarette.

"She's not going to like it," Frank called from the other side of the car. He stood there making sure his overcoat was unrumpled.

"Yeah I know," Max replied after a long puff.

"Your funeral, partner," Frank gave him a wink.

They approached the crime scene. A young cop stood by on sentry duty, a junior grade rookie but trying to make himself look like someone of importance as Max flashed his badge to gain entry.

"Det. Cube," Max said out of habit.

The cop lifted the police line tape as Max and Frank ducked under it. They walked into a tangle of police cars and cruisers parked on the road like a child's matchbox set.

As they approached the crime scene they noticed that portable lights were set and lighting up a section of the ground.

"Cube," a voice full of authority called. "You know you should put that out."

Max shrugged as he approached Maggie.

"What's up, Margaret?" Max asked, noticed the cringing look in her eyes. He knew what buttons to push.

False Hope

Someone had let out an agonizing scream as they rushed him. Max had no idea who it was that let out the scream since he was too busy trying to stay alive.

He feinted off to one side and the LEGACY goon fell for it, and Max made him eat a blade between the ribs.

Max thought he might have a chance in this encounter.

But of course he was wrong.

Never Fade Away

"What you are saying is that they are all robots?" Max asked. He butted out his third cigarette and reached for another one from the open pack at the table. "All of them?" 

Frank nodded before replying. "Every last single one of them. It's like it's all gone Stepford."

"Creepy," Dexter said with a shudder. "Everyone?" 

"Not just everyone," Frank stated. "It's every freakin' thing. Even the rats and birds and the spider that makes a web by the mailboxes!"

Max lit up his fourth smoke. Inhaled and waited several long seconds to let the smoke out. "I guess that settles it then."

Like Bending Rays of Light

Dawn was breaking over the treetops when Max stepped out from the tent. It was a cool damp morning, and he zippered up the jacket. The unit had already begun breaking camp down, loading equipment into the back of trucks. 

Before he did anything, he fished a cigarette out of a metal pack in his pocket and lit it. He wanted to start the day off on the right track.

"What's the word," he asked a soldier who was passing by. 

"We got to head west," the warrior said. "There's a huge storm front coming in from the east and we need to find a better place to hold up for a while."

Max nodded at the soldier and turned to see if he could find a cup of coffee somewhere.