Coming to Amazon this week on Kindle Vella.
“THE LOOSE DAMNED“
It is a short story, coming soon on Kindle Vella, an Amazon service, which can be read by buying tokens. You can buy 1 episode at a time, or many at a time. The first 3 episodes are free to read to introduce the reader to the story.
short blurb or intro: Michael Vega has returned from the beyond. He’s on a mission. But the rip has been opened now, and hell is after him. What will he do…?? Only you can find out.
And before reading the chapters, here’s a book trailer I made to introduce the story:
These are the first 2 chapters or episodes to get acquainted with the upcoming story.
CHAPTER 1 – “The Return”
A bar scene. Bars are so depressing. Or at least this one was. There was too much smoke in the air. Someone was smoking like a chimney, but no drunkard there really cared. The bartender with the unfriendly face cared even less though. He was cleaning the inside of beer glasses with a dirty cloth. But, of course, he didn’t know it was dirty; or, better put, he didn’t care.
The old man was just sitting there, facing the bartender and staring at the bottom of his empty glass. ‘Did I have booze and drank it already…??’ he thought to himself. Then he sighed in frustration, grunted, and looked at all the alcohol bottles in display in front of him and on the other side of the counter. His mouth drooling, his eyes reddish, his movements clumsy. Indeed, very intoxicated.
The old man now glared at the unfriendly bartender. Then he smiled and said, “So, I know you wanna gimme another beer. C’mon! Say it. You want to, huh.” His eyes lolling and unsteady. The bartender just observed him. Then the old man continued, “Please, I want it! And I want it! C’mon. Be my pal.”
The barman became pensive, then added, “Rowley, just go home.” Then he got nearer to him, right on his face, and continued, “What did I tell you…?? This was the last one.”
“So, good! Gimme the last one please,” the old man said while offering his empty glass to be refilled.
“No, you already had your last one. Now is time to go. So move it,” he came back firmly.
“O, c’mon. Just one more. Don’t be a mean one, Mr. Grinch. Yes. You. Mr. Grinch.”
“GO. HOME,” he repeated firmly.
The old man pouted like a little kid, then he grunted, then he scoffed. “Okie dokie. I know we are friends and all. So, I won’t stay. Because… because if I stay… if I stay I kick your…” Then, before finishing, he dropped to the floor just like a sack of potatoes.
He was awkwardly resting on the ground now. The few men drinking in the bar were observing him. Some were laughing. Some were too drunk to even care. “Oops. No! No! Don’t help me. I’m okay…” he said this as he staggered to his feet. Then he exited the bar, but not before he bumped into some chairs.
Outside then, he squinted under the sun. He stopped himself and looked at the road in front of him. The bar was in the outskirts of the city, and here there were mountains, wilderness, and a very, very long road. He then wobbled. He cursed under his breath. He felt thirsty still. And he was thinking about taking his motorcycle and going to another bar.
Where was his motorcycle anyway…?? He’d left it right in front. Or not. Perhaps. He felt confused. But he walked in circles searching for it, then remembered and went around the bar. The drinking place had a small parking lot on its side, so he kept walking and trying to find his bike. Not that the parking lot was big and full of cars, but he was not feeling so well, and his vision was not well either.
“Hey, old man!” came a voice from the side of the main road. “Are you looking for your son’s wheels?! It’s mine now that he doesn’t need it anymore!”
The old man swallowed something bitter while staggering to remain on his feet, then he leaned on the bar wall. His son had passed away. He’d been on a gang of bikers, so he’d met this guy there. But what’d happened…?? Weren’t they friends?? How can he steal his dead son’s motorcycle now. Or maybe this was a joke. The old man smiled, then said, “Gee. Too funny! You’re a funny guy, Steve! Or whatever your name is. Can’t remember…”
Before the guy, Steve perhaps, put on his helmet and took off in the bike, he grinned and added, “Nah, I don’t joke! But, I admit, this is pretty funny, right?!”
The old man was left all alone, confused, not even understanding what’d just happened. He lost his footing and fell on the ground intoxicated.
Meanwhile, Steve rode the bike hell for leather. The road in front of him was paved and long, very long. To his side, wilderness. Far beyond it, mountains. Above them all, the skies were blue and the sun was scorching hot. He thought himself as a speed demon. He actually felt like a really bad-to-the-bone demon, just because he’d stolen a bike from an old man. ‘What an accomplishment for my bad-guy résumé,’ he muttered under his breath.
Suddenly, a bright light in the skies. The blueness of it all trembled. But this light felt and appeared more like an omen. This shook Steve to the core. He didn’t know why, but he felt curious and afraid at the same time; however, he also felt allured by it. He couldn’t resist it, so he stopped the bike and stared at the bright light. Dazzling. Mysterious. Compelling.
The light was more like holography of colors. The rainbow-like banner of colors was right above him now, and it also spread all over the road and on part of the wilderness. It was like something, or someone, had come flying or running out of an interdimensional portal right above the ground…
CHAPTER 2 – “Enter The Loose Damned”
There were no words. No words to describe the brightness and mystery emanating from the phenomena above him. Steve looked around him, then behind him. He was trying to find other witnesses that could corroborate that he wasn’t crazy, that he was actually sane in seeing the spectacle above him. He saw no one. The road. The wilderness. Total emptiness.
He felt alone, so alone; and anxious, extremely anxious. The effect of this phenomena was indeed strong. The light filled by rainbow colors was now sizzling or vibrating rapidly. And he was now paying more attention to his surroundings, as the colors were fading and he felt mysteriously aware.
Then, suddenly, he heard a noise on the tarmac. Someone was behind him. Who was it..?? Then he slowly turned around. There it was. But he couldn’t see his face at first, since this one was bent on his knees and looking down. He wore tattered jeans and T-shirt. He looked like he came from the same pits of hell as The Devil himself. His long, jet-black hair disheveled.
He was crouching just like a beast ready to pounce on its prey. He was beside the motorbike and he didn’t seem friendly. When he looked at Steve, this one almost dropped backwards. It was him! How could it be?? He was gone. He saw his body at the funeral. What the hell was going on here??
“Kid…??” Steve asked. “Is it really you??”
Almost half his face was burned. But these burns seemed fresh, as if they had occurred just a few minutes ago. And the muscular boy was not in any pain. But who was he?? And where had he burned himself like that?? Better yet, Why wasn’t he in the emergency room of a hospital right now??
“What’s my name??” the 6-foot-tall young man demanded.
Steve looked confused and horrified at the same time. He hesitated, then said, “How-How is this possible…?? What happened to you??”
The strange boy looked unwavering, resolute; but mentally jumbled at the same time. “What’s my name?!”
No response for several seconds. Meanwhile, the light in the skies had faded completely.
“Michael, it’s me,” the biker replied. “Don’t you remember…?? What-What is this?? Some kinda joke??”
Then the strange 17-year-old called Michael stood up. He was looking straight at him, then at his surroundings, then at the skies, then at his own hands. These ones were telling him something. Perhaps reminding him something from his past. His hands had been in places. Horrible places. But now they were here. He was here. Back here. But something more was in the back of his mind. He couldn’t remember it all. Not yet anyway.
Then, without removing his eyes from his soiled hands, he said as if to himself, “Yes… I am Michael… I am Michael Vega…” Then he looked at the polished motorcycle in front of him. It suddenly brought back some beautiful memories. The wind on his face. The speed. The feeling of freedom. Then, as he gently inspected it with his hands, he followed, “And this is my bike.”
“Well, Mike, I did steal it from—”
And before Steve could even finish his sentence, Mike interrupted, “Steal…??” Then, with full attention on him, he plodded towards Steve. “Why did you steal it?? Who are you??”
“Er. Don’t you remember me?? We were in the same crew! What’s wrong with you, man??”
He violently grabbed him by the collar and demanded, “Who are you?? Tell me!”
Steve was 22 years old and had been a gang member for about 4 years now. And he’d met Mike one night after he’d ran away from his house, away for good from his alcoholic father. Mike had never met his mother, and he hated his father. His father had later been sent to prison for killing somebody with his car while driving heavily intoxicated.
But Steve and Mike had become friends since then. Well, sort of friends. They had had their problems, but in their unique way they did work through them. Now, Mike didn’t remember much; but being closer to him, he patiently studied his face. There was awkward silence. Some fuzzy recollections came to him.
“Hey. Ch-Chill, man,” Steve added. “I’m your friend. Or I was. Or, what the hell happened to you??”
Michael Vega pierced him with a deep stare, as if staring into his very soul. There was something powerful in Mike’s eyes now that he was back. Back from where?? We’ll discover it together soon.
“Shut up. Come with me.” Then, without hesitation, he sat on the bike and took off with him….
Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it and wish to discover what happens next and the terrible hell unleashing upon him. In returning to Earth, Michael has opened the space-time rip, and so the chaos he unfolds increases. Follow me to find out on what day is being released.