#275 – You, a Grown Adult, are Afraid of the Dark…

…explain why this is a legitimate concern, so friends won’t laugh at you.

Something about the dark has a way of changing things.  The blacker it is, the more alien the world becomes around you.  Sometimes it can make the world seem to shrink around you, crushing down on you, and other times it can make stretch out to infinity, making you feel lost and alone yet completely at the mercy of whatever is out there.

It’s that unknown factor.  Anything could be in the dark and you wouldn’t know because you can’t see it.  It can be something as simple as an object on the ground we might step on like a child’s toy or it could be someone watching you, waiting for the moment that you’re at your most vulnerable.  And you would never know it was there until it was too late.

Behind the Random: As an agoraphobic, I can understand and relate to a person with a fear of the dark.  I have trouble walking through a wide open field in the dark even more than during the day just because of that mysterious shroud surrounding me.  The shadows will play tricks on my mind, always moving in the corner of my eye and taking on shapes of people or worse then vanishing when I look over.  So to all you Achluophobics out there, I understand you.

#126 – What is the Place or Object from your Childhood…

…that you most think about when you think about home?

I call it the ghost farm.  Surrounded by old decrepit barns and sheds that still stank of the animals that once lived there years before I was ever born, it was like the scene right out of a horror movie.  All over the property, rusted broken farming equipment were scattered and abandoned.  Twisted trees surround the property, blocking the view from the dirt road that passed it, one sporting a battered tire hanging from a frayed rope that swayed in the wind.

At the forefront of the property, a small two bedroom house stood, its white painted boards chipped and faded from years of elements and neglect with cracked dirty windows.  The only source of water was an old well at the front of the house, at the end of the long gravel driveway.

Like a horror movie, it was a place of evil and fear where nightmares are made.

Behind the Random: I play it up a little bit about the one year I spent living on that forsaken farm and make it more dire than it actually was, but it was still one of the worst years of my early life.  So much so that when I think about my childhood, I usually end up there.

#266 – Your Worst Experience on an Airplane

The plane dipped down, roiling black clouds appearing around it without warning.  Angry slashes of lightning sliced through the sky, illuminating it with bright blue light as rain pelted against the window like pebbles.  I gripped the armrest a little tighter, trying my best to remain calm.  It wasn’t until this moment that I realized that I was afraid of heights.  I’d always been uncomfortable being so far above the ground, but now in the face of such obvious doom it gripped my heart with icy panic.

Beside me, my mom leaned back in her chair and watched me out of the corner of her eye.  “It’s okay.” She murmurs, patting my hand, “Just a little turbulence.”  It does little to soothe the prickling skin forming along my arms and the back of my neck.

Suddenly, the plane drops down 10 feet.  I lift up off my seat, kept in place only by my seatbelt.  My eyes go so wide, I feel like my eyes are going to fall out of my sockets.  The winds pick up and rock the aircraft side to side, up and down, like an vengeful cat god trying to get a can of tuna open.

There’s a loud clicking sound followed by a thump.  My mom cocks her head to one side, listening to it.  “Uh oh.” She says, “I think the engine just stopped running.”

At first, I’m not sure I heard her right.  The idea that could happen just didn’t register inside my brain.  How could the engine just stop?  We’re in the middle of the biggest storm ever millions of miles in the air and now we’re going to die because the engine just stopped.

“Huh?!” I ask intelligently.

I look at her and she returns it.  At first, I see nothing but a mask.  Then, I notice it.  A tiny smirk at the corner of her lips.  My mom notices that I saw it and smiles a little wider, “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

“Very funny, mom.” I mutter.

As quickly as it started, the storm passed and the sun beamed happily through the window.  I look back to see the roiling inky clouds continue on their way, their quest for airborne people unsatisfied.  Relief flooded inside of me, but at the same time, I wanted to go again.

Behind the Random: This is sort of an amalgamation of all the times I’ve been on a plane.  Every time has been with my mom and she has been a cruel prankster every time.  Definitely where I get my sense of humor from.  The one good thing that came out of it, however, was that I overcame my fear of heights through her antics.

#399 – Approach a Stranger…

…introduce yourself, and ask him or her to tell you something he or she has never told anyone else.  Record your findings.

Have you ever seen someone experience unadulterated fear?  Watch that creeping sensation scurry from the small of their back and up their spine until it insinuates itself within their brain stem and completely overrides every thought, feeling, and instinct they might have?  Their eyes flicker between fight or flight, weighing every option and consequence.  Their skin pales noticeably and the hair on their arms and neck rise like the hackles of a frightened cat.  That bead of cold sweat that forms on their forehead, trickling inexorably down.

Me neither.  However, I have learned that asking complete strangers to divulge their deepest secrets can garner a person some very strange looks indeed as well as an awkward silence or three.

The more you know.

Behind the Random: Surprise, surprise.  I didn’t actually do this challenge because, well, I am not a people person and I definitely give off that impression.  However, I can say with a fair amount of certainty what the outcome would be unless I was able to find a fun-loving, open minded and quick witted individual who was willing to play along.  Unfortunately, those people are hard to stumble on.

#276 – Write a Single Paragraph…

…that conveys a lot about a character’s life.  Think about how this can be achieved with voice and rhythm and repetition.

I am the darkness, watching and waiting with the patience of a god.  I have existed since the dawn of man, born of the first drop of innocent blood and the madness of a man’s rage.  Fear and despair became my sustenance and in time I came to swell in power.  As the kingdom of humanity sprawled out, so did my influence.  Unbeknownst to world leaders, my shadowy claws dug deep into their thoughts, urging them into battle with their brothers and churning up bitter hatreds.  All to feed my insatiable appetite for my death and destruction.  Now, after eons of manipulation, the stage has been set for my arrival.  Soon, I will step forward and take claim to this reality at my rightful place; not hidden in the shadows, but at the forefront.  Tremble as you read these words, for I am Chaos and I am coming.

Behind the Random: Oh, I love me a good ol’ fashion all-powerful villain.  They make for some of the most epic battles between good and evil.  This story is actually a variation of just one of the many origin stories for my favorite monster/hero, the Skull Jester.

#376 – Death is Like This…

It’s a release from pain and worry.  How can you stress about tomorrow when there isn’t going to be one?  I can see how that can scare some people.  Realizing all of the things you’re going to miss out on.  A child’s many firsts.  Weddings of loved ones.  Upcoming summer blockbusters.  That last one used to be a big one for me.

I can’t say I know what lays beyond that final breath.  I can’t even begin to fathom.  It could be eternal rest.  Maybe Heaven or Hell.  Maybe nothing at all.  And I don’t fear any of those things.  Because every story needs an end.

And that’s what death really is.  The end of a story.  Your story.  My story.  Gilbert Godfried’s story.  They all end.  That unifies us all, even though some of us go later than others while some may go far too soon in our eyes.  Death does not discriminate or favour one or the other.

You can add all the epilogues your want to your story, no one can escape those final two words that finish their story.

The End.

Behind the Random: With a fairly death heavy last couple of years I’ve had, this is a subject that comes up a lot in my more private moments (I have kids, so I’m not sure what these private moments are but I must get them occasionally since I think of this stuff).  I wanted to add a line about not worrying about the end of the story and instead focusing on making it a tale worth reading, but that would be hypocritical since I’m pretty unmotivated at the moment.  Of course, maybe if I could inspire someone else, I might get the gumption to do it myself.  Huh.  I’ll have to think about that the next time I have a moment of privacy…

#401 – That Day in Paris

Will you remember where you were the day it all happened?  The panic in the streets as people ran for their lives.  Destruction on a scale never before seen by human eyes as the news feeds prominently showing the Eiffel Tower in flames before collapsing.

For years, people in Western Civilization thought that they were safe.  That the problems from the rest of the world would never appear on their shores.  It was a sense of security that everyone took for granted.  Still, others would argue that no one could ever have expected what happened on that warm summer day.

Even now, years later, the damage is felt not only in France but around the world.  Though the French are slowly rebuilding, it will take a long time before the scars will be fully healed.  Countless lives lost and billions of dollars in damages.

What could have been done that could have prevented this unprecedented tragedy?  This has been a topic of debate for experts since the day it happened.  Some believe that it was as unpredictable as it was unavoidable and Paris was simply a victim of inevitability while others argue that being proactive and looking at all the signs could have saved much of the city, if not prevented the incident from happening at all.

As the politics continue to rage, a people still dealing with the incredible losses they suffered continue to march on, unwilling to fall to despair.  Their stories are heard everyday as prayers and well-wishes still pour in from strangers who have opened their hearts and even their homes to those who lost almost everything.

So do you remember where you were when Godzilla showed up that day in Paris?

Behind the Random: For the briefest of brief brief moments, I considered doing something romantic or similar ilk, but then that’s what people expect when they read about Paris…unless they know that I wouldn’t write something like that about Paris, in which case maybe I should have wrote something diabetic…Still, I’m satisfied with the result of this post.

I think this also marks the first time I’ve included a fictional character that wasn’t a part of the original challenge…

#447 – Explain What Dentists do for a Cavity…

…Your audience: a six-year-old child with cavity ridden teeth.

The dentist takes this scary looking drill and he sticks it in the rotten part of the tooth to scrap out all the plaque and decay from your tooth.  It hurts a lot and you’ll wish you’d never stopped brushing your teeth.

By the time he’s done, you’ll want to tell him everything bad you’ve ever done in your entire life.  It’s like being tortured by a monster and it feels like it lasts for hours and hours.  Even after your done, the pain will stay with you forever and ever and you will never be the same again.

Finally, when he’s done ripping out pieces of your bad tooth, he uses a cream to fill up the hole so that no one will ever know what he did to you.

Now go brush your teeth.

Behind the Random: I’m a fan of scare tactics.  My wife says I use them a bit much, but they are fun as well as effective.  Have I mentioned I’m a terrible parent yet?  Also, I’m a hypocrite in this post.  I have some dental work I’ve needed to get done for years and I’ve been putting it off in part because of this reason.  Also because it’s the price, but that’s a complaint for another day.

#593 – You are a Superhero.

…What powers do you have, and how do you use them?

“You got the gear?” The first thug asked, flicking his cigarette aside.

“Sure sure.  Premium stuff, man.  You can do a lot of damage with this stuff, y’know what I mean?” The second says, grinning madly as he shows off the various weapons in the trunk of his car.

The two goons continued talking shop when a sudden chill fell over them.  Before either could comment on the sudden change in temperature, the lone light in the alley shattered, plunging them into darkness.

“What the hell?!” The second man yelled, pulling out a pistol, “This some kind of set up?”

“Me?  Hell no!” The first one hollered back, pulling out a switchblade.

I laugh loudly, cutting off their little tiff.  The way they cast about in every direction, trying to find me, fills me with that joy-joy feeling I love so very very much.

“Who’s there?!  I will cut you, dammit!”

“Now now, that’s just rude.” I chide him from the darkness, “is that anyway to say hello to a new friend?”  I flick my wrist and a shadowy chain whips out from the shadows and disarms the man with a vicious rap against his knuckles, sending the knife clattering across the floor.

The second man waves his gun in the air, trying to pinpoint my voice.  “Excuse me sir, but I’m gonna need to see your license for that firearm.” I demand.  The goon fires in my direction, but I’m already gone as I travel through the darkness to the other side of the alley.

“Forget this man, you’re on your own.  I’m out!”  The first man whimpers and runs, holding his injured hand close to him.

“Don’t leave!” I call out, “We’re still have so many fun things to do!”  I throw out a hand and the shadows swarm after the fleeing figure, wrapping around his legs and sending him sprawling to the ground.

“What are you?!” The second man demands, swinging his gun around.  I appear on the roof of his car, eyes glowing brightly behind the skull-visage I hid my face behind.  The deep purple hooded cloak I wear hangs around me, hiding my body beneath it.

“I’ll give you a hint, buckoo.” I retort, getting his attention, “It ain’t Batman.”

“Oh god!” The goon cringes at the sight of me, firing three shots.  Two miss by a mile, but the third passes through my like I’m mist.  Partly because I am.

With a laugh, I leap at him even as he fires more rounds.  This has about as much luck as the first ones, but hey, A for effort right?  Just before we collide, my body turns completely to smoke and I twirl around the gunman before solidifying in the form of a snake.

He screams as he thrashes around, trying to break loose but I only squeeze harder as I hiss menacingly.  Overcome by fear, the man’s eyes roll back into his head and he collapses in a heap.

The second man is pulling at the shadowy shackles around his legs, calling out to his buddy.  Poor sap is so in the dark, literally.  I slither off of the downed gunman, my body turning to smoke again and reforming.

I look at the man and can sense his greatest fear and my powers react to that fear.  New limbs form from the smoke, splitting apart into thinner ones until I’m skittering towards him on eight long legs, my six eyes glowing with gleeful malice.

The man’s eyes fix on me and he screams.  Arachnophobia can be a bitch, especially when you’re face to face with a spider the size of a rottweiler.  I loom over him, pincer chittering hungrily.

Suddenly, lights explode in the alley and police officers rush in, weapons ready.  The bizarre scene the greets them forces them to stop in their tracks.  One man, unconscious on the ground, while another is rolling around with his hands over his face, screaming about a giant spider.

I watch from the rooftop, chuckling to myself before turning away from the scene.  There were more nightmares to bring to the wicked before the night was through.

Behind the Random: You’d think, for a comic geek, this would be an easy topic to do but it actually took me a little longer than I anticipated.  In part, because I am such a comic geek, I’ve thought about this question time and time again so I’ve come up with hundreds of ideas, including some less conventional ones.  Picking just one was hard to do.  Also, I wanted to do more than just a simple essay explaining the powers and what I would use them for.  That would only interest someone like me while I want other people to be able to enjoy this post too, as long as they enjoy fiction.  So then came the next challenge: describing the power adequately enough.

So why the power of fear?  Because I’m fascinated by phobias.  I love knowing what people are afraid of and why, if there is a source to the fear.

Despite the troubles I had, it was still a fun post and maybe someday I’ll make a list of the powers I would love have.

#118 – The First Time…

…you were worried that you had come off sounding racist.

As a smartass and a fan of dark humour, this is something that actually happens more than I’d like to admit.  I couldn’t tell you the first time that I felt like I was taking a joke too far, but I openly admit that it happens.

I’ve learned from those experiences to figure out who can take what level of joke.  I still test boundaries now and then, see what I can get away with, but I try hard not to go full throttle.  Still. every now and then I do go over the line.

And not just with racism.  Personally, I think hatred for someone elses beliefs, culture, race, language, sexual orientation, skin color, choice in music, and height is one of the greatest pranks we’ve played on each other.  And it’s not going anywhere, sad to say.

So I’ll continue to make bad jokes.  Not because I actually think the jokes are true, but to point out the flawed logic of discrimination.  By making it a joke, I take the anger and hatred from it.  I don’t live in fear of racism because I laugh at it.

Believe me though, if racism does become a thing in the past, I’ll happily move on to jokes about cats or something.  The internet tells me that’s still popular.

Behind the Random: Yeah this one isn’t really what I was supposed to do, but really who remembers these events in their lives?  I barely remember what I did last week, let alone one of many many awkward situations in my life.  So yeah, this just became yet another post about taking life to seriously.