The Mephit's Tales

The key turned smoothly in the lock; the door swung silently open.

The big, brown-haired man made his way in, moving slowly and stiffly, absently reaching back to push the door shut and turn the bolt. It was hard to believe this place was his, and yet here he was.

(more…)

“Does it ever seem to you,” Nathan sighed, “that our lives are just a little bit… bland?”

“What?” Melanie blinked at him. “Bland? Nathan, you can fly at will and freeze someone in ice by looking at them. Tim can stop time. I can jury-rig anything I can imagine and some things I didn’t. We spend our days stopping people who can start fires with a stare, walk through the walls of bank vaults, break into houses through the phone lines, and who knows what else. And you think our lives our bland? My God, do you even listen to yourself?”

“Okay, okay.” Nathan held up his hands. “Bad choice of word. But think about it, Mel. Back when Lady M was still in charge, she’d take us all over the world, we’d see and do everything. We’d put a stop to people raising actual zombies with a wave of their hands, not just turning computers into zombie boxes with a touch. We’d save cities, and all at once, not just one convenience store at a time. Everything she did was larger than life, and the same was true of the ones she set out to stop.”

(more…)

“If you could be anywhere right now,” said the red-haired girl, “where would it be?”

Murmurs went up and down the rows. Holiday resorts. Families. Idyllic destinations. More than a few settled for their own beds.

One big, brown-haired fellow just grunted.

“Come on, Matt,” urged the redhead. “There’s got to be some place you’d rather be than here, isn’t there?”

“Oh, sure there is, Jamie,” the big guy drawled. “But what’s the point in thinking about it?” He shrugged, lapsing into silence.

(more…)

Alan was cold, wet, sore, and had a pounding headache; all in all, not one of his better days.

Gingerly, he touched his brow, then his temples, then ran his fingertips over his scalp. There was a lump toward the back of his head that he quickly learned to avoid, but while his fingers got wet, they didn’t encounter anything sticky. That was a good sign, wasn’t it? (more…)

It was supposed to be a routine day. No doubt it would have had some significant developments to deal with, but they would have been normal developments.

Having the expected “courier” from Northridge Fields turn out to be none other than Damion Northridge himself upset that routine in a hurry.

Servants bustled around, dusting, washing, mopping, in general tidying in a great hurry. The kitchen staff were called in early and immediately launched into frenzied activity. The butler took stock of available options and assembled a platter of refreshments and wine, which he personally bore at the Mistress’s side as the Northridge carriage came to a halt at the front portico.

(more…)