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    Destinies Darkly Dreamed
    Destinies Darkly Dreamed
    Destinies Darkly Dreamed
    Ebook182 pages2 hours

    Destinies Darkly Dreamed

    By Pro Se Press

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    About this ebook

    Action and Adventure Knows No Age Limit! And Pro Se Productions proves that with Destinies Darkly Dreamed: Genre Fiction by Young Authors. This collection of fourteen tales by high school students takes readers to the heights of danger and intrigue, from the halls of very special schools to the stars and beyond.

    Not only do the stories capture the essence of Genre Fiction, they also show the birth of fourteen writers, each one giving of themselves with every word and phrase. From stories of vengeful love to academic teenage espionage and even a Wild West tale on another planet, Destinies Darkly Dreamed is the first time readers will hear the emotions, feelings, and names of these newly minted authors, but definitely not the last.

    Destinies Darkly Dreamed: Genre Fiction by Young Authors. From Pro Se Productions.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPro Se Press
    Release dateMar 7, 2015
    ISBN9781310833175
    Destinies Darkly Dreamed
    Author

    Pro Se Press

    Based in Batesville, Arkansas, Pro Se Productions has become a leader on the cutting edge of New Pulp Fiction in a very short time.Pulp Fiction, known by many names and identified as being action/adventure, fast paced, hero versus villain, over the top characters and tight, yet extravagant plots, is experiencing a resurgence like never before. And Pro Se Press is a major part of the revival, one of the reasons that New Pulp is growing by leaps and bounds.

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      Book preview

      Destinies Darkly Dreamed - Pro Se Press

      DESTINIES DARKLY DREAMED

      Genre Fiction by Young Authors

      Published by Pro Se Press

      This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters in this publication are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. No part or whole of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing of the publisher.

      Copyright © 2015 Pro Se Productions

      All stories are © 2015 their respective author

      All rights reserved.

      Table of Contents

      A Funny Thing Happened on the Way To High School…

      Introduction by Tommy Hancock

      Morbid Addiction

      by Anna Archer

      Waiting for Rose

      by Emily Crawford

      The Planet of Lost Souls

      by Summer Parker

      The Ghost is Born

      by Zane G. Graham

      Worth It

      by Tayler Lynch

      Qetsiyah

      by Danyelle Jordan Franse

      Lilith’s Chorale

      by Matt Tracy

      Il Letale Assassino

      by Christina Weingart

      Hazel Gray

      by Savanah Benker

      Destinies Darkly Dreamed

      by Madison Kilby

      Deadly Choices

      by Erika Willcut

      Or All Will Die

      by Amy Horowitz

      True Love’s Tasks

      by Trevor Ford

      Initiation

      by Victoria Featherstone

      A Funny Thing Happened on the Way To High School…

      By Tommy Hancock

      Being a writer is a wonderful experience. Combine that with being a publisher, and the paths you go down become winding vistas of discovery and surprise, the places you frequent, both real and imagined, are suddenly ripe with possibility, and the people you meet…well, the people you come across may start out as faces in a crowd and then suddenly end up as authors on a page.

      Sounds flowery and romanticized, doesn’t it? Well, maybe, but I had one of those experiences not too long ago. And you’re holding the results of it in your hands right now.

      As a publisher, creator, and a guy who doesn’t mind giving speeches or doing panels at shows and conventions, I get asked to do various and sundry presentations, classes, and seminars. One such opportunity presented itself at the end of 2013 when a faculty/staff member, the ever excited and passionate Donna Woolf Smith, at Lake Hamilton High School in Hot Springs, Arkansas attended a presentation I was doing to a writers’ group and decided she’d like some of the students at Lake Hamilton to hear what I had to say. It was easy to say yes to that, because it was quite an honor and as a Publisher I’m always interested in sharing why we should write and about Genre Fiction.

      What happened was completely unexpected.

      I wound up face to face one November morning with about twenty or so high school students. Students of every type and facet. Just imagine your days in high school and all the possible peoples you bumped into in the hallways and at least one of those archetypes was present to hear a guy in a fedora prattle on about how even high schoolers could write two fisted action packed Pulp tales. So, that’s where the day started. And very quickly, it went down one of those winding paths of discovery because, to my surprise, I had found something else, something more than a mixed bag of teenagers all wanting to miss a day of class.

      I had found a bevy of ready to be writers all gathered in one location.

      Now, one might assume that this assumption was the wishful thinking of the presenter, but it was not. From the get go, these kids were asking questions, dissecting the business of publishing, addressing the differences between passion for the art and desire for the dollar and how to accomplish both, and just genuinely interested in the concept of writing stories that would be read. And understand this. These kids all came at the concept of writing from their own unique perspectives. Some were poets, others were ready to write the next ‘Maltese Falcon’, while still others had aspirations of inspiring others with words of motivation. So, what I had before me were twenty or so authors, all with their own voices, and here I was, educating them, or at the very least trying to sell them on the benefits of writing Genre Fiction.

      Yeah, what chance did I have of that?

      Well, you are holding a book right now with stories from fourteen of those authors from that seminar. Once the decision was made that an actual published work might grow out of what had been an educational opportunity, they were given three possible prompts for writing a three thousand word or so tale and in these pages, you’ll find at least one story for each prompt, more than that for two of them. So, whether or not you’re reading a space western, a love story of revenge and horror, or a tale of a high school for assassins, what you have is the cumulative work of fourteen young authors willing to push their own limits and to add, even potentially redefine Genre Fiction by crafting their own contributions to it.

      Now, although the seminar was held by a high school, a high school I’ve visited since then and worked on various projects with, the stories you’ll find here were contracted for with the students and their parents. This is a work like any other book published by Pro Se Productions, an arrangement between the publisher and individual authors. I say that so you know that what you read are the expressions, thoughts, and ideas of the authors who wrote them and theirs alone.

      You’ve noticed the title of this book already. It’s also a title I gave to one of the stories that came in without one. There’s a reason for the title. Some of the tales go into some very dark places and several of them deal with situations and choices and actions that many don’t believe that high school students think about or deal with. There is violence, there are relationships, there are questions of identity within this book that even society today may not be completely comfortable with confronting, but all of those and more affect these kids every single day. Not just the authors of this book, but high school students everywhere. The days of the gilded age of being a high school kid may not be gone, but they’ve definitely changed. And these stories are reflections of that and expressions of the way authors in this work deal with those issues- by writing, by creating.

      So, enjoy tales from authors that want to write. Some of them, I’m sure you’ll be hearing from again, reading other works by them in the not too distant future. And remember, as you read through these, some of these students were writing in areas they weren’t familiar with, but they gave it their best shot. Also, some of them figuratively bled onto the pages, giving a bit of their stories, their lives to make what you’re now reading work. That’s pretty neat, if you ask me.

      Tommy Hancock

      February, 2015

      Morbid Addiction

      By Anna Archer

      I sipped on the iced coffee from the shop I sat in, typing away on my laptop. The sun shone in through the window, piercing my back. It was beginning to get very hot, and I could feel the little beads of sweat trickling down my body. I simply ignored it and continued to reply to emails. My job had been pushing me down more and more each and every day and, at this point, it had almost become too much. The many corridors and chambers in my mind had been hoarding all of the distracting and devastating thoughts that haunt me, working their way into my dreams. I could not escape this stress.

      I grasped the edges of my cushioned wooden seat, scooting up closer to the small cedar table. I continued scrolling through my inbox, replying to my boss, my mother, my clients and my church family. My fingers were striking the keys with such a force that the public could probably tell how much pressure sat on my shoulders. There were simply too many deadlines.

      Sir, would ya like anything else? asked the old, fragile waitress. She wore a light blue blouse and, over that, a white and pink pinstriped apron.

      I quickly smiled up at her, replying, No thank you, I’m fine.

      Alrighty then, just holler at me if you need anything else!

      I still haven’t been able to properly adjust to the language of the south. Eight years ago, I moved from downtown New Jersey to Cleveland, Alabama. It’s a small town… there are maybe a thousand people, but I simply wanted to get away. So this deer infested and tree invaded town did just the job.

      Then, I found a strange message in my inbox with an address, [email protected], which I did not recognize. There was no subject. I was about to delete it, assuming it was spam mail, but it looked like a personal email address, so I took the time to click on it, wanting to distract myself from work for a moment.

      "Brad,

      I know it has been such a long time. Almost ten years now, right? I thought I would email you, because someone mentioned you here in New Jersey. I was shocked, but I haven’t forgotten a thing about us since you left. I think about you often.

      I miss you, Brad. Can I please see you soon? I would love to meet and catch up.

      Message me back as soon as you can. I hope to hear back from you.

      I’m sorry about the past, but I hope you’ve put it behind yourself, just as I have. I hope there are no hard feelings, and I hope that you have found it in your heart to forgive me. Life is well here, now that I’m back living a normal life, but something is missing. And that something… is you.

      Love, Maria."

      I froze. I felt the remaining sweat quickly soak into my skin as each hair on my body stood erect. I never thought that I would hear from her again, and a part of me did not want to. I had thought that she ran away or moved out of state or maybe even went to prison. I simply never thought I would receive any sort of contact from her. A part of me thought I was going delusional, and then the thought occurred that this may be a prank… but the only one trying to fool anyone was myself. This was real. This was Maria.

      She found me.

      I gazed around the cafe, slouching down into my seat to take a deep breath. I noticed everyone. What they were doing, what they looked like, what they may be thinking. But no one looked like what I saw in the reflection of the glass. No one looked as terrified as I did. I shut my laptop to place it in my bag, drew some money out of my pocket and threw it on the table, and hurried out, shaking as I pushed against the door.

      *****

      I slammed my car door shut, and nearly ran to my front door, not being able to avoid the sound of the obnoxious crunch of the gravel beneath my shoes. I grabbed the worn out door handle and flew into my living room, slamming my whole body with great force into the mustard colored sofa. I began to think.

      *****

      Brad!

      The music was too loud, perfectly loud.

      Brad!

      I looked at her, admiring how beautiful and endearing she looked. Maria?

      I love you! She shouted over the beat.

      I looked at her brown eyes, the rainbowed strobes cascading colors from the ceiling glistening off of them. The night grew old, but we could not tell minutes from hours. We both wanted an escape from the same life at home. So we drove to the club that night. I gently took her face into my hands and kissed her, unlike I had ever kissed anyone before.

      Though The Killers were shaking the room, she quietly said, I love you, again, and so I read her lips… her perfectly pouted, peachy-pink lips.

      I yelled back to her, I love you, Maria!

      She smiled wider than I had seen her smile in a very long time, and I know I did, too. We laughed hysterically in a wasted mess, holding each others’ bodies, watching the other bodies move and dance. Whenever I noticed her long, dark hair falling too far across her face, I would tuck it behind her left ear. She really was beautiful. And though I was not sober, I knew I would love her forever. Her skin was an addiction, her body was a habit, her soul was inescapable.

      *****

      I quickly sat up from my couch, looked at the time, and stood up to plug in my computer. Once it was back on, I opened up my email and went back to the messages. It was inevitable.

      I clicked on my most recent email.

      "Maria,

      I can’t believe I’m hearing from you. How are you?

      I’m living in Alabama now. Crazy, I know.

      I would love to catch up. I hope life for you is wonderful.

      I forgive you.

      Love, Brad."

      I hit send as I felt my heart bounce into my throat and slam into the bottom of my stomach. Almost immediately I received a reply.

      "Brad,

      I know. I’m sorry for the awkward and sudden message. You must be frightened. I’m doing well. My father passed away two years ago. My brother is in rehab. All of my friends are married and half of them have children. I spend my days working a full-time job and one part time.

      I know. And it is crazy. Why Alabama?

      Then let’s meet up.

      Thank you so much.

      Love, Maria."

      I noticed that I was smiling, and I could not give one damn reason as to why. I did not know what was happening, and I had never been so confused and… I could not put words to it. The beautiful, addictive girl was entering my life again. I did not know what to say back. I knew that I should not be speaking to her. I knew that I should just delete the emails now and walk away… but I could not. I would not.

      "It’s alright. It was sudden, but I’m not frightened. I’m sorry about your father and your brother. And I’m glad that you’re working. What do you do?

      How do

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