Here is our first official submission from new author, Jason Morgan. Non-erotic, fiction
Let me know how you like it!
Shadows of the Night
It was a cold and foggy night in downtown Portland, one of those nights that nobody wanted to be out, nobody that is but the city’s thugs, thieves and trouble makers. In the Burnside district, just a few blocks from the river-front, a group of college kids stumble out into the cold night from the Black Kitty’s night club, a trendy night club that caters to college aged kids and young people in their 30’s. As the drunken college kids stumble along the side-walk, heading to their parked car in a parking lot two blocks down, somebody pulls a leggy blond out from the precession of kids and puts a gun to her head. The rest of the group of kids, three males and two other girls of around the same age look in shocked horror as their friend furiously yells and kicks. Unknown to the group, three other thugs with knives and guns pull up behind them.
“Give us your money and cell phones, or the pretty blond in the bellbottoms gets it to the head!”
The young pretty blond quickly goes quiet and begins to tremble. The rest of the group looks nervously at each other, quickly sobering up, the effects of the alcohol they consumed earlier evaporating. Behind them, one of the thugs cocks his gun.
“I would suggest homes, that you do as my associate asks of you. Don’t even think about being a hero.”
As the first thug with the gun and the girl cocks a rye smile, his face suddenly goes blank and his gun hand starts to tremble. His eyes suddenly start to dart around and he looks at his crew with a horrified stare. One of the thugs in the group starts to get angry.
“What the hell is your problem man? Are we going to do this or not?”
Suddenly the figure in the dark costume with only his eyes visible says, “I think that it is what!”
The group of thugs suddenly turns around, guns drawn and come to a dead stop. The dark figure has vanished.
“What the hell is going on here?”
One of the thugs in the group suddenly gets pulled back and thrown into a group of stray trash cans, the gun sliding down the curb. The second thug tries to run to his fallen comrade and suddenly lunges and falls backwards with a loud thud onto the street. The dark figure cannot be seen by the other two thugs, the pretty blond long forgotten by the first thug. The two thugs exchange nervous glances at each other, both guns pointed in the direction of the alley.
“What in the hell do we do now?” says the first thug.
“I don’t fucking know man, I don’t fucking know!”
As they both stare at each other, we see the dark figure leaping off of the corner ledge of the building, gliding above the two thugs and landing behind them on the street. The two thugs slowly turn around, their hearts thudding in their chests, guns drawn. They look into the empty street, the dark figure nowhere to be found. Suddenly, a black clad leg kicks the thugs’ legs from under their knees and they fall sprawling on the wet cold sidewalk. They both look up to see the dark figure, eyes black and cold staring down at them.
With a menacing and gravelly voice, the dark figure says, “Never come back!”
The first thug looks up and with a scared and desperate voice say, “Who are you man? Who are you?”
With both of the thugs obviously scared, the dark figure throws down his hand and suddenly a large cloud of black smoke fills the damp and cold street. When the smoke settles the two thugs wipe their eyes and look up only to find that the dark figure is nowhere to be seen. Police sirens can be heard in the background, the group of thugs getting up to run off into the cold and damp night.
Night falls on the Portland cityscape, casting the large buildings into darkness as a young man in his 30’s steps out from a large building housing the Portland Jujitsu Academy. The man, standing at 5 ’10, muscular build and a cropped head of black hair, takes his white cane out and extends it out in front of him to locate the steps of the academy. The cane, coming up to his arm pit is a long white slender cane with a fiberglass tip and a piece of red reflective tape for cars to spot him as he crosses the dark Portland streets. Putting on his sun glasses and slinging his backpack over his shoulder, the young blind man heads on down the steps and makes his way down 12th and Lovejoy to 4th and Lovejoy to catch a bus that will take him down to Pioneer Square where he will catch the Max train to head across the river to his work and home located three blocks off of Front Street on the other side of the river.
Stepping out of the train, the young blind man waits to cross the tracks of the train to make the three block trek home. Once he is sure that the train has safely left the intersection and no other cars are coming, he extends his cane out in front of him and crosses the street. The young man quietly and gracefully makes his way down the sidewalk en-route to his warehouse/brownstone, the place that he has called home for the last 10 years. The young man makes a left and heads down 3rd and Front to the middle of the block and stands in front of a set of double-doors and stares up into the awning that reads “Hawk IT Consulting” He then pulls out a set of keys and a badge which tells the security system who he is. Once inserted and the badge read the doors unlock and the man makes his way into the dimly lit front office and reception area. He folds his cane and starts to make his way down a hallway at the left of the reception area to a wall lined with offices to the back of the warehouse where he stops at an elevator door. He then pulls out the badge and inserts it into the reader at the right of the elevator doors. After three seconds the reader says in a soothing female voice,
“Welcome Mr. Hawk. You may now enter.”
Jason, or Mr. Hawk to his business associates and customers, enters the elevator and turning around to face the dark elevator door stares blankly. The elevator does not have far to go, only two floors to the apartment on the second floor, where Jason lives. Only he knows of the third floor and what it holds.
The elevator makes a gentle stop on the second floor and the doors open up into a foyer made of black granite tile and adorned with a black coat rack and bench to sit down on and remove any wet articles of clothing or shoes. Jason takes off his coat and removes his sun glasses and puts his cane next to the coat rack. The foyer and the house beyond it are cast in darkness, only the white rays of the moon casting eerie shadows. Jason makes his way down the dark hallway, taking a left into a living room adorned in black leather furniture, a fireplace made of dark granite, an LCD T.V. mounted above the mantle and a set of sliding glass doors leading out onto a balcony overlooking the Willamette River. Off to the left of the living room is a lavishly furnished kitchen and formal dining are. All of the modern kitchen conveniences can be found on the dark granite countertops. To the right of the living room is a long hallway with 4 rooms on each side of the. The home office is furnished with a long L-shaped desk made of black tempered glass with a laptop on top of the desk and a phone. Along the walls of the interior you will find a set of books, a small refrigerator, and entertainment center complete with a T.V. and DVD player and stereo. On the wall facing the desk is a set of black recliners and featured directly above the chairs is a collection of Japanese martial arts weapons. Everything from Shurikans, katanas and even an authentic blow gun were present. There were also Japanese scrolls and artwork depicting the meanings of martial arts and the philosophy. You see, Jason was a practitioner of martial arts, carrying black belts in Jujitsu, Aikido, Tae Kwon Do, Iaido, Silambam and Ninjutsu which he taught at a dojo in Portland. He had been doing it since he lost his sight due to an accident as a child. The second room next to the office was a full bathroom and just beyond the bathroom was a spacious guest bedroom complete with a queen sized bed, set of recliners, an entertainment center with a T.V., DVD player and a mini refrigerator. All of the rooms in the house are wired to the main stereo in the living room. Just down the hall is the master bedroom, complete with a king sized bed, full balcony, master bath with a hot tub and full shower, a walk in closet and a full entertainment center. Of course, this is Jason’s room and one where he stays alone, always alone.
Taking a left from the living room Jason puts his right hand on the wall and makes his way along to the office and heads in to log into his private network to check his e-mail. Finding nothing in his in-box, he gets up from his desk and makes his way down the hall to his bedroom. Not bothering to turn on the lights, he throws his backpack on the bed and pulls his shirt off before heading into the bathroom to take a shower.
Once inside of the large bathroom, complete with black granite sink and sink top and a whirlpool bathtub and a large shower with three shower heads, Jason begins to pull off his jeans and places them on the countertop. Feeling along the wall, he makes his way to the smoky black shower door and turns the knob to hot for his shower. Waiting a few minutes until the shower gets to a comfortable temperature, Jason steps in and braces his hands on the shower and hangs his head. Allowing the hot water and the pressure of the heads wash away the soreness from the nights workouts, Jason’s eyes fly open and his face grimaces in pain and he is transported back in time, to a nightmare, a nightmare that is all too true.
The car is traveling down the highway between Rockaway Beach and Portland, the relentless rain is making it hard for the driver and a small boy to see. The woman tries to put on a brave face for her son, singing songs from the radio and for the moment the boy seems calm and happy. However, inside the mother’s head a battle of fear and dread wages on. The mother notices that she is coming up to a dangerous curve in the road. It tapers onto a field and she gently pushes on the brakes making the car swerve and lose control. Loud screams of terror fill the car as the mother and child are thrown around the car. The mother is thrown from the car through the windshield and a large metal shard rips through the child’s head and blood fills the car. All of a sudden the screams, the terror and the rain fade to black.
Not knowing how long he had been in the shower, but feeling the water go cold, Jason turns off the knobs and makes his way out of the shower. He is not shivering from the cold; he is not even there, but almost in a trance. He makes his way over to the counter top and puts his hands down. He is fighting back the tears, the anger and the guilt, trying to make his way back to the present, instead of the day that forever changed him. They say that when a man is about to die that his whole life flashes before them; that is even true for a blind man.[hr]
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