stories - Bits & Pieces

Back in 1994, I was living in Tifton, broke, just started a new job, and knew no one there at all. I did have a desktop computer, and I had a lot of time on my hands. I remember the day was cold and wet. I turned my heat on when I started seeing my breath inside.

Anne Rice had done amazingly well reinventing vampires, so I decided to reinvent a monster. Which? Werewolves? I thought about it. Zombies? No. Vampires again? No, please. Mummies? For the love of Anubis, no, no, no!

Demons?

I watched the sleet pound the windows and turned up the heat. Okay, supposed Demons possessed people, but exorcism doesn’t do anything to them, and never did. Demons know there are no gods or goddesses. So far so good.

Can they die? Kinda. If they aren’t inside of a host they black out into a super cold and totally dark place. How long? Every time feels like forever, but then they are reincarnated back to earth, and they are weaker than when they left. They have to find a host, and soon, or they get black zapped again.

I needed a name. I looked around my tiny apartment and saw the box some cookware came in.

“Regal.” The Demon Regal was born.

Regal is old, over eight thousand years old. He was there in the beginning of Demons, and was there when Atlantis fell. His host was murdered, and he got zapped, but returned in good order and found a host.

He killed the Demon Barbos, who had killed him, and now the two are enemies.

Demons possess people by getting them to surrender control of their bodies and mind to the Demon. They can manipulate memories. They can control parts of the mind through memories. All humans can resist minor Demons. Some can resist stronger minor Demons, but Regal can possess any human at will and nothing can stop him.

Some Demons, like Regal are kind to their hosts, and try to make their lives better. The Demon Vodun has a team of hosts that run a Yoga studio. The most they have to do is eight hours a day of possession, or Yoga, like a regular job with full benefits. Vodun punishes disrespect harshly and ruins the lives of humans who do not hold up their end of the bargain.

The Demon Isere is the most liked Demon as far as humans go. Much younger than Regal or even Vodun, she helps her hosts live a much better life.

This is how stories are invented and evolve.

Questions?

Take Care,

Mike

“I ain’t got that,” the woman says, loud enough for me to hear her from where I’m standing. She’s likely my age, looks like she’s lived hard and there’s no mirth about her body language or her words. The cashier at the store has been around for a while and has heard it all before.

“Do you want to put some of the items back?” the cashier asks mildly.

“I got what I got and I ain’t got that much money,” the woman is speaking louder now. She looks at me. I look back.

“Ma’am, would you like us to restock this?” the cashier says sweetly.

“I need this. I ain’t leaving. You got to give it to me,” she demands, and now she’s trying to get the bagged groceries back in her cart.

“Ma’am, if you cannot pay we’ll have to take something off or restock,” the cashier is like oil on ice. She’s cool and slick.

“Gimme ten dollars,” the woman advances on me with her palm out. Behind her, the cashier is taking a few items out and taking them off the total.

“Tell me something interesting,” I reply, vamping for the cashier, who grins at me.

“What?” the woman snarls. “I ain’t got to tell you nothing.” She’s getting animated now, talking louder and looking around for help. There’s a reason I shop early, and that reason is to avoid people. It’s failed this time, certainly.

And this makes me wonder. The woman isn’t going to get much help with her con at this time of the morning. Paralyzing the only open line is a great idea if you want someone to buy your stuff for you or give you money, but this early there’s no pressure to get her out of the store in a hurry.

She either isn’t smart or she’s nuts. Maybe both.

“You ain’t got no ten dollars?” she demands of me.

“Didn’t say I did or didn’t. But tell me something interesting first,” I reply and I’ve gotten some incredible stories. A woman yelled at me to let her and her husband into traffic and I yelled back, “Tell me something interesting.”

“What?”

“Where did you meet your husband?” I asked. She was with a guy, I just made a stab they were married.

“At a car wreck. We both stopped to help.” The woman is hanging out of the window but the light changes. I wave them on and wave goodbye.

See! I tell you, ask for interesting stories.

The woman in the store wheels around and realizes the cashier has not only taken items out but put the taken items in a bag for the guy who stocks shelves to put them back. He arrives and leaves while the woman rants about starvation.

She pays up then pushes her cart towards the door fussing and cussing, but doing no harm and no good.

“She’s always like that,” the cashier tells me before I can ask. “She’s always ten bucks short, never eleven and never nine. She’s not allowed to come in during rush hour.

“Aha!” I say and the cashier laughs.

“She also tries to return open items that she’s eaten half of, and she claims parts were missing,”

“Really?”

“And get this, she’s owns a million dollar house on five hundred acres of land.”

And suddenly, I have my interesting story. And now, you do, too.

Take Care,

Mike