Screenshot from the internet.
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I woke up this morning to find a wonderful review of the Christian SciFi anthology Shoot the Devil 2: Dark Matter by Ginger Nuts of Horror. “Dark Matter” features my short story “The Heavens Shall Declare His Glory.”
Tales by Richard Paolinelli, Frank B. Luke, and L. Jagi Lamplighter received high honors. That said, there was one drawback the reviewer found with the book:
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You can now pre-order “Dark Matter” from Amazon for delivery to your Kindle device on October 23, 2023. That’s right, in just one week’s time, this book can be in your hands (virtually speaking).
As I’ve already mentioned, “Dark Matter” is a sequel to this anthology which was published a little over a year ago.
The stories in the first and now this collection are Christian-based with the theme of defeating a tangible evil.
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Some of my regular readers may remember that a short story of mine “Wolf in the Wind” was included in the 2022 Crucifixion Press anthology Shoot the Devil: Ten Tales of Humans Defeating the Demonic. It’s a collection of science fiction, fantasy, and horror stories generally from a Christian perspective that depicts people combatting and defeating literal evil. My own story was less religious, but nonetheless, a battle in the supernatural realm involving a female occult detective in the 1880s west.
Apparently, it did pretty well, so well in fact that the publisher decided to print a sequel. It should go on pre-sale on October 15, 2023 and is called “Shoot the Devil 2: Dark Matter.”
Basically, it’s the same theme only in space.
Image found at Mindlovemisery Menagerie’s website. No image attribution listed.
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It was early morning on Easter Sunday in the field behind a local Lutheran church nestled at the edge of the suburbs. Young children, both those who regularly attended, and their friends who just thought it would be so much fun, were scurrying around the trees and bushes looking for colorful eggs with which to fill their baskets. Some were of the poultry type while others were chocolate and filled with yummy caramel.
All seemed well. The air still held a crisp chill but excitement and sweaters kept the cherubs warm. Their parents and grandparents watched from a distance, smiling at this idyllic scene, and anticipating the most Holy Day when they would worship their risen Lord.
Then, from the opposite end of the field, they came, the Armies of Ishtar. Legend had it that over all the Earth, they attacked one church on Easter morning, disgracing the Christian tradition of the Easter Bunny with their much older fertility traditions.
Dressed in hideous, giant bunny costumes, fur burned and unkempt, ears bent, cute bunny teeth replaced with six-inch fangs, and red, bloodshot eyes scanning the scene, they rushed forward. Their cries were ghastly, terrifying the children. But the bunnies were far too fast for the kids to be able to escape.
Sierra Nevada Mountains, Yosemite Valley – found at Roadtrippers
Iris Berry pulled up her other boot as she gazed at the breadth of the firmament above her in awe and terror. So far it was clean of Moskeren scouts, but she’d be a fool to believe she could elude them forever, even in the Sierra Nevada mountains.
She had hiked in from Dardanelle, now a ghost town, three days ago and was directly north of what used to be Yosemite National Park. Iris used to go there at least twice a year to hike and climb with Darren. She smiled at the memory and then frowned, pushing the thoughts of his extermination out of her mind. When the first wave of invaders hit, they vaporized most of the Bay Area along with every other major population center on Earth. Her husband of eighteen months was just one among billions.
The young woman extinguished her small camp fire, a risk she took hoping the Moskeren didn’t use infrared, and pulled on her backpack. Iris had been on a wilderness retreat with three other women from her church during the planetary incursion. They heard the news over the small radio they’d brought with them.
Helen died a day later as they were hiking out. Maybe it was suicide, but more likely she was so distraught, she wasn’t paying attention to the loose shale she was walking on and slipped over the cliff. There was no way to get to her body.
Science Fiction wallpaper found at imgur
Earlier today, I wrote and published the short story A Black Matter for the King just for myself, but later, I adapted it slightly so it could be a response to the First Line Friday writing challenge hosted at Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie.
Although it’s gotten several “likes,” no one has ventured to comment. That happens sometimes, and I suppose it doesn’t have to mean anything, but this story does have an overtly Christian character. He has volunteered to fight in the Vietnam War, both because he’s already had friends drafted into the service who have been sent over and died, and because he believes that as a Marine, he has to fight in our wars to keep the people back home, especially his family, safe, and so our nation can remain free.
Now those are all ideas that have fallen out of favor lately (or not so lately). I did have another character in the tale comment on how the Vietnam War did nothing to protect our nation’s people or their freedom. However, it wasn’t so much the purpose of the war that’s at issue, but rather my male protagonist having a certain set of values and a code of honor to uphold.
From the video game “Plants vs. Zombies.”
“He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby becomes a monster. And if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee.”
–Friedrich Nietzsche
The Fourth Chapter in the Undead Life of Sean Becker
The beast clawed its way up through the moist, cool soil. It couldn’t breathe, and while that added to its desperation, it did not dampen strength, will, or determination.
It was filthy as its hands broke through to the air and then heaved itself up from the grave. Mud, parts of roots, bits of gravel in its matted hair, under long, pointed fingernails, around the mouth and eyes, covering its pale, chilled skin.
Light! It shielded its eyes for a moment, but the faint illumination was glaring only because it had spent the past three days and nights in total darkness.
A room, a large room. Earthen floor, concrete walls. Electric lamps on stands at the far end near the door.
It licked the dirt from around its mouth. The taste was not unpleasant, but it did nothing to quench the insatiable, maddening hunger it felt deep in its gut.
Emptiness. All it felt was emptiness, ravenous hunger, unquenchable desire for…
BART West Oakland Station – © Jeremiah Cox
The First Chapter in the Undead Life of Sean Becker
Running and out of breath, Sean Becker barely made it to the Embarcadero Station in time to get on the 6:13 train east. He was just another commuter ending another workday like the hundreds around him. He couldn’t possibly imagine that tonight was the beginning of the end of everything he had ever known and the advent of an eternal nightmare.
He squeezed into the crowded car and found a pole to hang onto as the doors shut and the train started moving. It would take almost an hour to get to the Dublin/Pleasanton Station and another 20 to 30 minutes to drive home. At least he didn’t have to live as far away as Tracy or even further from the City just to afford a home.
The horrible Bay Bridge Toll Booth crash yesterday had made commuting on BART a total mess as people who normally drove were forced to take the rail system. He silently endured, reminding himself to be grateful to Jesus that he had a good job, and that they’d bought their home in Dublin when it was still affordable. God was good. He was good to give him a wonderful wife like Janet and three beautiful children to care for.
Found at YouTube
“We appreciate you allowing us to interview you, Mr. Kwon.”
“Not at all, Ms. Singer. It is a pleasure to be here, to be able to tell my story.”
The middle-aged gentleman was dressed casually in a button down checkered shirt and jeans. He looked uncomfortable in the television studio but the reporter, Judith Singer, tried to put him at ease.
“Just tell us your experiences in your own words.” Her tone was soft, gentle really. She leaned forward slightly to indicate interest but not enough to block the television camera. Off to one side, she could see the wall mounted monitor that displayed what the audience was seeing. The dialogue was translated and projected as subtitles because he didn’t speak the same language as most of the audience.
“My country is officially atheist. Except for the show church in the nation’s capital that tourists visit, our religion is illegal, well, all religion actually, but especially any public Christian worship.
Image: University of Dayton
From the Unlife and Curse of Sean Becker
Can a vampire still love? I know that’s probably a hard question to answer. I feel the same way for my wife Janet as always. I feel the same love for my children as I did before I died. Perhaps that’s what’s driven me back home…to see them again.
I know it’s crazy. If I’m seen by my family or anyone I used to know, they’ll recognize me and I have no explanation for how I can be here, well, no sane explanation.
Can you imagine me saying, “It’s okay. It’s me, Sean Becker. Yes, I died, but you see, I was killed by a vampire, so guess what I woke up as three days after you buried me?”
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