I - Prologue
Martin swayed with the tall grasses moving to the rhythm of the cold wind blowing from the south. He had buried the clove, oils and mascot in the center of the crossroad. He wondered if he was ever going to show up. Or maybe it was just a stupid idea.
“Waiting for me?”
He looked back to see a stunning beautiful woman in a red dress. He swallowed.
“If this is uncomfortable, perhaps this could help.” The lady turned at once into a hideous creature.
“Oh! It was you. I’m sorry. Anyway, can I get my wish granted now?”
“And what is it you wish for?”
“I want to be a writer. No, not just a writer, a comic writer. I mean, I want to be a famous writer that…”
“Mortal! You only have one wish. Choose wisely.”
“Okay. I want to be able to create comic characters that are real and powerful.” Martin announced with a triumph in his voice.
“As you wish. Take this pencil. With it you can create and erase powerful characters.”
Martin took the pencil and began the long walk home.
II - The Motel Room
Martin sat by the desk fumbling with the pencil in the small motel room not far from the Mojave dessert. He itched to use the pencil the demon had given him. He glanced around, saw a flyer on the edge of the table, picked up the flyer and flipped it to the other side. There, he drew a lady. The lady was as tall as his cruel stepmother, only with more biceps and horns on her heard. He named her Golda, the conqueror of men.
He looked at the drawing and wondered what the good guy should be. He then remembered his kind Aunty Salima. He decided to make the good guy a girl, Golda sister. So he drew a lady who was some inches shorter than Golda, with less biceps and a very pretty face. The pencil worked magically as it clearly expressed the pictures in his head. He then started to create the action. First, he showed Golda trying to convince her sister, Nara to join her in taking over earth. Instead, Nara ran away and came down to earth to warn the people of earth. At that point, the toll of the exhaustibe walk to the motel began to tell on him. He dropped his head on the desk and slept off.
“Guardian of Earth, wake up!”
Martin stirred and looked up. Instantly, he jerked backwards and almost fell off his chair.
“Oh ma God. This isn't you right? This is all a dream?”
“What are you saying? Guardian of Earth, you must pull yourself together. Golda is coming for Earth.”
Martin stood up and look around. Everything looked exactly the same. Everything but the lady standing before him.
“You are not real. You are not real. You are…” He tripped at the edge of the bed and fell on the bed. Nara looked around in bewilderment. As she approached him, she noticed the drawings on the table.
“You’re the Guardian of Earth, right?
“Guardian of what?”
“These drawings… you knew we were coming, you know what would happen.”
“What are you saying? You don’t mean…”
“Mean what?”
“Oh my God! What have I done?”
“I have to get you to safety. Golda will come for you first. That’s what she always does.”
Before Martin could make up his mind, he saw a bright light flash outside the window.
“She’s here. We have to leave.” Nara announced as she grabbed Martin, ran out into the balcony and jumped over the railing. She then began to run dragging an hesitant martin behind her.
III - The Writer
“So you are saying you are a writer and not the Guardian of Earth?” Nara asked with suspicion written on her face.
“Yes, I am a writer.”
“And you created me? I mean us. My sister and I.”
“Yes, it was all a… See, there is the magical pencil I got from the demon of…”
“You took a pencil from a demon? What are you saying? You are the Guardian of Earth. What are you dong with demons?”
“There is no Guardian of Earth. You are not real. You are just figment of my imagination. This is all a bad dream. Yeas, that’s what it is, a bad dream. I’ll wake up in the morning and…”
Nara slapped him on the face.
“Ouch! What was that for?”
“Did that feel like a dream?”
“No.” Martin replied and slowly walked away. Nara was confused. She was supposed to meet with the Guardian of Earth, the one person that could put an end to her sister. The portals didn’t lie. When we entered them, she knew they would lead her to the Guardian. Something was wrong. Maybe her sister had gotten to him first. There was only one way to find out.
“Okay, I believe you.” Martin looked back to see Nara behind him.
“No, you don’t. I should have know that the devil doesn't give free gifts. Silly me.” Martin sat dejectedly on a low rock.
“What gift? What did you ask for?”
“I only wanted to be a comic writer. A famous comic writer. Every time I send my pieces to the publishers, they are always saying my characters aren't real enough. My characters don’t exude power. My characters this, my character that.”
“So you asked for….”
“I only asked for the gift to create real and powerful characters.”
“Okay. I…”
“I know you don’t believe me.”
“I do. I only wonder why you should want a gift from the devil.”
“I just told you. I wanted to get published.”
“Published? What is that?”
“I want to write a book. A comic book. Something so great and famous that it’ll be adapted into a movie. Then everyone would know what a great comic writer I am.”
“You mean you want to be famous?”
“Yes.”
“But why? You're the Guardian of Earth. Isn't that enough?”
“You don’t get it. You are just a piece of a story. You don’t matter.”
“And you do?”
“No. I don’t matter. Not until I…”
“Get published?
“Exactly.”
“I think you are like my sister.”
“What do you mean?”
“My sister wants to rule the universe at all cost. She wants to be in power. But deep inside, she only wants attention. She wants to be loved. However, she took a wrong path when she joined with Harere, the god of darkness. He made her what she is now. That’s what is happening to you. You only want to be valued for who you are.”
“And I can’t get that if I don get published.”
Nara walked to Martin’s side and sat on a rock beside him.
“You don’t need to be published to be loved. There’s love inside of you. You only need to let it out and…” Martin turned to look at her and he couldn't believe how beautiful she was. Her words flew past him like the winds of the desert. He brought his face closer until their lips began the dance of the tongue.
IV - The Guardian
Martin tried to keep his hand steady as he drove the car. Earlier that morning, some guys had chanced upon them in the desert. It took Nana less than two minutes to knock out the four men Golda had sent. However, one of them had already slashed Martin’s wrist before Nana could get to him. He was the only one that could drive so he had to endure the pain.
As he drove, he was surprised at how far off they were from the Motel. Perhaps, it was because the road was windy compared to the straight route they had probably used in the dark. He remembered that she had carried him at some point. He turned to look at her as she rested in her seat, her eyes shut to the morning sunlight and smiled. He was grateful to have her.
The plan was simple. He would return to the Motel, sneak into his room, retrieve the pencil and erase Golda’s pictures from the paper. After all, it was the pencil he had used to create her. He simply had to get rid of the evil in the world and enjoy the beauty he had created. He looked at her and smiled. If only she had been a part of his life before his frustrations began.
She was right. All he wanted was attention. He had a good life working as a Scrpit writer. Two of his scripts have turned into box office specials. But he felt he had always been in the background. Everyone praised the directors, actors and producers. People rarely think of the script writer. So he felt he could prove his mettle by producing a comic book. There are five comic books in his drawer at home to prove he wasn’t a success. With her by his side, he was content.
“Stop here!” Nana commanded as she jerked her head up. “She’s close.”
“Close? We’re still a long way from the Motel.”
“We’re close enough. Any further and she will sense us coming. Remember the plan. I’ll keep her distracted while you do what you have to do.”
They got out of the car. Martin put a stone on the accelerator, restarted the car and watched Nana jump on it. Then he trailed followed behind on foot.
By the time he got to the motel, the car had exploded into flames. He choked on the smell of burning bodies, tears and guilt. Just as he turned to the side of the house, he saw Golda. He couldn’t believe what he had created. He had imagined Golda about six feet tall. The lady he saw was almost eight feet.
“Guardian, go!” Nana screamed as she charged against her sister.
Martin hurried into his motel room, saw the pencil and paper on the table and took a deep breath. Then he turned the pencil to its eraser tip and began to swipe at Golda’s pictures. Nothing happened. He looked at the paper carefully and realised that only the pictures at the end was off. He had to begin from the end, all the way to the beginning.
“Drop the wand, Guardian!” Golda burst in with her arms around Nana’s neck.
“Don’t!” Nana cried softly before Golda knocked her out.
Martin swallowed. To end Golda, he must end Nana. He didn’t have a choice. Too many people have suffered already. Swiftly, with tears rolling his cheek, he erased the pictures.
V - The Bridge
Martin stood at the bridge with the pencil in his hand. He had to throw it away lest another misfortune should befall earth. He only wanted to mourn Nana first.
Four hours later, he walked away with the pencil in his pocket.
This is my entry for the Twenty-four hour short story contest for May 2--A comic book writer's creation comes to life by
Thanks for reading
Blessings
[Image source: Pxhere]