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OCTOBER'S CHILDREN - A Halloween Short Story

10/28/2015

13 Comments

 
OCTOBER'S CHILDREN

by Kerry Alan Denney
aka The Reality Bender

A Halloween Tale of Terror

(short story originally published in
Dark Moon Digest #16 July 2014)

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photo by Sushant Photography
   
    The ancient jungle gym, swing set, see-saws, and monkey bars in the abandoned playground at the edge of the woods look like giant mutant insects from a lame old black-and-white horror flick. Their angular shadows are growing long in the coming twilight.
    Me and the guys are sitting in the outfield of the town’s only baseball diamond, sixty yards from the hulking structures.
    “Even older kids say it’s haunted,” I say.
    “That’s bull and you know it,” Gary says. “Ain’t no such thing as a haunted playground.”
    Brian snickers. “I ain’t scared.”
    “Yeah?” Gary laughs, always daring us to do something that will land us in deep shit. “I don’t remember ever seeing you over there. Wuss.”
    “That’s ’cause my dad’ll tan my butt raw if he finds out I did, dickweed.”
    Mike nods. “Mine too. He says he can’t afford the technis shot if I get cut on that crap.”
    “Tetanus, you goober,” I say.
    Mike smirks. “Whatever, Poindexter.”
    “Yeah, Robbie,” Gary says. “You’re such a book geek.”
    I flip him a bird. “How come we never see you there, Gary?”
    “Bite me, Rodgers. I don’t wanna get caught by the creepy old guy in the woods. Carries a loaded shotgun everywhere he goes. Always has a gigantic mean-ass wolf with him.”
    Brian snickers. “I heard he kidnaps children and eats ’em. Like Hannibal the Cannibal.”
    “Y’all are so full of it.” I watch the swing set. One swing gently sways back and forth. Probably just the late October breeze—although the air is unnaturally still. “Besides, have you ever actually seen this ‘creepy old guy in the woods’?”
    They shake their heads.
    Gary grins. “You never see him until it’s too late. Then you’re lunch.”
    I laugh. “Talk about bull. You’re such a douchebag.”
    Mike chuckles. “Yeah, Gary, that fake spiderweb shit’s for babies.”
    Gary gives us a double-bird flip-off. “All of ya blow me. It’s cool, ’cause girls like to be scared.”
    We laugh at him. He’d strung the sticky white stuff across his handlebars, and stuck a big black rubber spider in it. Our school halls are decorated with the cheesy fakery, along with orange and black streamers, tissue-paper ghosts, and green-faced witches.

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    I just came from the town library, my favorite place in the world—although I’ll never tell anybody that. No pretty girl will ever talk to me again if that secret gets out. The guys rode their bikes and met me here after school. My bike has a flat tire; Mom is picking me up here at six-thirty. We brought our gloves, tossed my ball around a while, and hit a few homers with my Louisville Slugger, future A-Rods in the making. Then we sat around in the grass, conspiring and talking about girls and freaky stuff like guys are supposed to do.
    I’ve always loved Halloween, and trick-or-treating with my little brother. It’s the only time our parents cut us loose and let us terrorize the neighborhood after dark. But I’m too old for kiddie stuff now—although I still love the candy.
    We’re all about to turn thirteen next year. We have to act like the adults we are. More than just our bodies are changing. Our minds are changing too, and now many things look different than they did just a year ago.
    Gary grins and snorts at me. “You think you’re Mr. Too-Cool, Robbie? Let’s see you go over there. Just sit in a swing. I double dare you.”
    “Triple-dog dare!” Mike and Brian say together, laughing.
    I smirk at them. “Fine. See you ladies later.” I grab my ball, bat, glove, and book bag and head toward the playground.
    I’m not afraid. Pinky-swear. I suck in a deep breath as I approach the rusty swing set. The air feels colder here, and the battleship-gray sky is darker than it was a few minutes ago. Twilight has arrived, the witching hour approaching.
    I drop my stuff in the sand beside a swing and sit in the moldy seat. I hear laughter, and look back. The guys are speeding off on their bikes, cackling at me.
    “Bunch of chickenshits!” I yell, sounding a lot braver than I feel.
    A stiff breeze kicks up, blowing crackling leaves around in a whirlwind in front of me. The mini-cyclone blows right through me, spraying sand in my face. I close my eyes and shudder. It feels like the touch of icy fingers on the back of my neck.

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art by Dean Tersigni 2008 www.thealmightyguru.com
    I wipe gritty sand out of my eyes. When I look up, a girl about my age is sitting in the swing beside mine, slowly rocking back and forth. She’s kind of cute, even in her old-fashioned ankle-length dress. Crinkly upturned nose, curly blond hair pinned up in a bun. Six more kids about the same age lean against the supports. One girl and five boys. Where the hell did they come from?
    I don’t recall seeing these kids in class, or in the hallways, or anywhere around here for that matter. Strangers in a small town where everybody knows who’s who.
    “Did you come to play with us?” the retro-girl asks, licking her lips.
    My heart thunders in my ears loud enough to wake the dead, and I wonder if these kids hear it. “Huh?”
    “I’m Lizzie. What’s your name?”
    “Ruh…” I clear my throat. “Robbie.”
    “Hi, Ruh-Robbie.” She points to the gang. “That’s Belle, Jeffrey, Eddie, and John. Ted’s the cute one. Jimmy’s the one with the grape Kool-Aid.” She rolls her eyes. “Always.”
    Jimmy offers me the bottle of purple liquid. “You want some? It’s good. Everybody should have some.”
    I grimace. “No thanks. Gross.”
    “Yeah, Jones,” Ted says, laughing. “Nobody wants your nasty-ass Kool-Aid.”
    Jimmy sneers. “Eat me, Bundy.”
    John sneaks up behind Lizzie, yanks the wooden barrette out of her hair, and leaps back. Lizzie springs out of the swing and dashes toward him, face scrunched up and scowling.
    “John Wayne Gacy, you clown, you give that back now!”
    John darts off, cackling. He trips on a broken branch as thick as an axe handle and falls face-first in the withered grass. Lizzie leaps on his back, grabs the branch, and starts beating his arms and shoulders with it.
    “Whack him, Lizzie!” Eddie cries.
    “Yeah, Lizzie!” Belle hollers. “Whack him good!”
    The hairs on my arms and neck stand up and goose bumps form on my flesh. I shudder. Something about this is hauntingly familiar. And deeply wrong.
    I stumble out of the swing and stagger toward Lizzie, who’s whacking John really good--about forty times now, an eerie voice whispers in my head. John is alternately howling and laughing.
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    Jeffrey stands in my way, smiling. “I got some really cool stuff back at my grandmother’s house. You wanna come see it?”
    “Hell no.” Jeez, what a creep. I push him aside and approach Lizzie and John. “Stop it!” I grab the branch and yank it out of Lizzie’s hand.
    “Hey!” She turns and sneers at me. “You shouldn’t’ve done that.”
    “Leave him alone.” I scowl at John. “And you, buttface. Give her barrette back. Asswipe.”
    Somebody pushes me from behind, and I stumble and fall flat on my face. My head hits a big rock poking out of the ground, and bells clang and stars flash in front of my eyes. The playground spins around me in roller coaster circles. I wipe sticky wetness out of my eyes and finally figure out who these kids are.
    October’s children gather around me.
    Somebody kicks me and I curl up, trembling and praying to God to rescue me from these freaks and get me out of here alive. They laugh, join hands, and dance around me in a tightening circle, leering and chanting.
    “Ruh-Robbie! Ruh-Robbie!”
    I retch, about to piss my pants and barf my guts out.
    Lizzie shrieks, then cackles. “Come play with us tonight, Robbie! The gang is all here!”
    “We’ve been waiting for you, Robbie,” Ted says, grinning like a cat with a mouse clamped between its jaws.
    “Join us for dinner, Robbie,” Jeffrey says. “You’re the main course!”
    “Let’s tie him up,” John says with a wicked grin, clenching his fists.
    Their laughter is a demented symphony, musicians all out of tune. From somewhere far away a horn or siren wails, warning me to hurry before it’s too late.
    Lizzie leans over me, her glassy eyes about to drown me in an eternity of darkness. She leers at me. “Whenever you close your eyes, Robbie, we’ll be there.”

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    I shudder, wishing Mike, Brian, and Gary were here. Chickenshits left me behind, a play-toy for a bunch of wicked little homicidal demons. Ain’t no such thing as a haunted playground my ass. I’m dead meat. Nobody can save me now.
    Without warning, all sounds but the alarming klaxon stop. Something coarse like wet sandpaper scrapes across my cheek, and something hot and stinky crinkles my nose. I wrench my eyes open, ready to meet the Grim Reaper, and gaze up into a wrinkled leathery face.
    Full white beard, veiny hands mottled with liver spots, dirty overalls.
    The creepy old guy from the woods.
    No shotgun; just a gnarled old cane he leans on. His ancient blue eyes seem kind and wise. A scraggly hound dog beside him is licking my face, tail wagging. Ha. Some giant wolf. The old-timer smiles, reaches down, and pulls me up.
    “Nasty fall you took there, fella. Need to get that looked at pretty quick.”
    I swipe blood out of my eyes, shivering like a wet dog in a blizzard, and he squints at me.
    “You saw ’em, din’tcha, boy?”
    We both know who he’s talking about. I’m too terrified to speak, can barely move. I nod, glancing around at the empty playground, knowing the gang’s still here, will always be here.
    “Best get on home now, son. Your Momma looks pretty impatient over there.”
    There she is at the curb in her Lexus a hundred yards away, leaning on her horn. Nothing ever looked so good, and suddenly home seems like a damn fine place to be. Maybe I can do something to get myself grounded for the rest of the year. Stay in my room with my books.
    “Thank you,” I mumble. I grab my stuff and take off like a fox fleeing from rabid Hellhounds.

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    In the car, Mom looks at me with wide eyes, her mouth hanging open. “What happened to you, honey?”
    “I fell.”
    “You’re bleeding. Are you okay?”
    “Yeah. Can we please go now?” I look back at the playground, still trembling.
    Deserted. In my mind, I hear the gang singing a familiar haunting song about Lizzie Borden whacking away with her bloody axe. Soon David Berkowitz, Charles Manson, Dennis Rader, and Wayne Williams will join them—after they do the living a favor and finally kick the bucket.
    Mom sighs and hands me some napkins. “We’ll clean you up when we get home, okay?”
    “Okay. It’s just a scratch.”
    She turns onto Elm Street, and Unforgivable Crimes: America’s Most Notorious and Gruesome Serial Killers and Murderers spills out of my book bag.
    Mom sees it and groans. “How can you read that horrible stuff?”
    “It’s for a book report, Mom.” With some unexpected terrifying personal experience thrown in for realism. I try not to laugh. I might not stop if I do.
    She grimaces. “Yuck. Are you taking Rodney trick-or-treating tonight?”
    “No. The guys are coming over. Galactic Warrior championship.”
    “You guys and your video games. Well, you’re getting too old for trick-or-treating anyway.” She ruffles my hair, and for once I don’t groan and push her hand away. “My handsome young man. You guys can raid the candy bowl after the little monsters are gone, okay?”
    Little monsters. I shudder. “Thanks, Mom.”
    No way in hell I’m setting foot outside tonight.
    The gang might all be there.
    Waiting for me to come out and play.

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HAPPY HALLOWEEN TO ALL!

Feel free to share your comments below!
13 Comments

October Frights Blog Hop Day 8: 5 Things I Loved Most About Halloween as a Kid

10/8/2015

4 Comments

 
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5 Things I Loved Most About
Halloween as a Kid


1. THE CANDY!

What, are you freakin' kidding me? Of course #1 was the candy! Great googly moogly, my brothers and I used to coerce our mother into giving us the biggest pillow cases we had. Those were our loot bags, ready to be filled with incomparable sweet treasures by way of a legalized-one-night-out-of-the-year implied threat and ultimatum: Give us some candy, or be prepared to get Punk'd with a potentially nasty surprise!

With visions of Snickers, Milky Way, 3 Musketeers, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, M&Ms, and a veritable cornucopia of coma-inducing chocolates and other sweet treats guaranteed to bring on a temporary diabetic reaction from a gastronomic gluttony of a sugar overdose filling our wicked little minds, we fled our lair in the darkening twilight dressed in our homemade costumes to terrorize neighbors to whom we were supposed to be unfailingly polite and friendly the other 364 days out of the year.

This was OUR night! No adults allowed... well, except for the requisite chaperoning for the littlest witches, goblins, ghouls, vampires, werewolves, and other various frightful creature disguises intended to send our friends and neighbors into cardiac arrest due to the sheer terror our shocking wardrobes were sure to induce.

Don't try to be friendly or cute with compliments on our horrifying costumes and accessories; don't make small talk; don't act like you think you know us. You don't. We're creatures of the darkness, children of the night. Just shut up and give us buckets, bags, pillow cases, and plastic orange jack-o-lanterns full of CANDY!!!

Hell yeah, bring on the bellyache.

2. BEING CUT LOOSE FROM THE PARENTAL UNITS!
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Only on this one unholy, fright-filled night--when we were deemed "old enough" by elders we generally chose to ignore as much as possible --we cut that annoying, cloying, intrusive parental tether with extreme prejudice so we could consume mass quantities of candy!

Ah, sweet freedom! Your delectable taste was nearly as enticing, tantalizing, and titillating as the treasure trove of scrumptious sweetness we were sure to be lugging homeward and stuffing our guts with when our bags and buckets were finally crammed to the brim and overflowing. And with our most irresistible smiles, my brothers and I often cajoled our parents into letting us take a second trip!


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Kevin, dump your stash over there; Kerry, empty your massive bag over here; Kolan, put yours there on the couch... and we were off again with freshly emptied pillow cases and an aching desire that could only be experienced in childhood to collect enough individually wrapped candies and treats to last through Christmas.

One night out of the year only, we became the demons and devils and goblins that our costumes represented, the fierce creatures of the night that we imagined ourselves to be, free to scare the living daylights out of everyone we encountered with our master- ful disguises, free from that nagging compulsion to behave like goody two-shoes little boys and girls, free from that stifling parental restraint!

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On Halloween night, best of all, our imaginations were set free. And as many of you know, I've always had a very vivid and overactive imagination.

Let the frightmares commence, baby, it's HALLOWEEN!!!

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3. THE HOMEMADE COSTUMES!
Party City?!?! We don't need no stinkin' Party City! In fact, there was no such thing as Party City - or a Halloween Costume store or the Internet, for that matter - when I was a kid.

We made our own costumes, Jack. Or rather, our mothers made our costumes (sometimes with a little help from enthusiastic fathers wanting to experience the frightful joy vicariously), with a bit of help from us in the encouragement and "No, do it like this!" departments.

We were each fully confident that our costume was the best, the wickedest, the most inventive, just the coolest damn thing ever... besides Halloween and all the candy we confiscated from neigh- bors that we generally managed to avoid the rest of the year, of course.

Batman and Robin, Gale Sayers and Roger Staubach, Captain America and The Incredible Hulk (hey, they were comic book characters back then before they starred in movies) for the boys, witches and pretty little princesses for the girls; you name it, we became it.

And we didn't need any pre-fab blockbuster movie's merchan- dising department or outrageously overpriced online costume stores to tell us who to be or how to dress for it. All we needed was our imaginations. We were the bomb dot com, baby!

...and then of course there's the Halloween dog costumes!
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4. The Unprecedented Unmitigated FUN!
By George, we had a BLAST! I still remember the thrills and excitement that built up for days before Halloween finally came. It was about candy big time, yes, but it was also about the FUN. Days before Halloween, you couldn't restrain me with industrial strength chains. I was pumped, psyched, planning in my adolescent mind the exciting escapades to come on the one night a year our wicked little inner demons were finally set free to ravage, terrorize, and blackmail our stuffy neighbors. In my childhood, the thrills accompanying Halloween were second only to that unbeatable Christmas morning magic.

Trick-or-Treating was its own form of magic, a time for our devious imaginations to let the monsters inside us loose, set them free. I hope that parents of my generation remember that excitement, and share it in any way that they can with the young Trick-or-Treaters of today.

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5. NO FEAR OF PREDATORS!
This is a tough one for me, personally. When I was a kid (yeah, I know I'm showing my age), we never heard of people sticking razor blades in candy apples, injecting Ex-Lax (or worse) into the candies, or poisoning homemade cookies and brownies (yes, we had three women in our neighborhood who gave those out instead of pre-packaged candies, and they were delicious!).

We never heard of sick human predators hiding out in the bushes and culverts waiting to snatch little wandering ghouls and goblins - although we all know they were out there, even yesteryear.

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It was a kinder, more innocent and more trusting time in our nation's history. Parents didn't have to anguish over their children's safety... even though they doubtlessly did, to the point of chewing their nails to the quick and tearing their hair out - but that anguish and fear wasn't singular to just Halloween. Caring parents always worry about their little goblins, ghouls, witches, demons, hellions, cowboys, cowgirls, princes, princesses, and Stormtroopers. That's no different today than it was when I was but a wee precocious lad, and that's just as it should be.

Our children rely on us to look out for them, and protect them from evil. So woe be unto any predators who ever endanger our youth and cross MY path.

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Nowadays, grocery stores, malls, churches, schools, and various responsible neighborhood communities organize their own form of "safe" Trick-or-Treating, and I'm proud of those honorable people who coordinate and orchestrate these events in an effort to keep the Great Tradition alive today. They remember the fun, costumes, excitement, and most of all, the gobs and scads and buckets full of candy, candy, candy.

So bring on the Trick-or-Treaters! They're safe in MY neighborhood. I have a ginormous tray full of all the best candy for them... and I don't even need a costume to look scary when they come to my door, lol.

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Join me and my fellow horror and paranormal authors for the October Frights Blog Hop:
I heartily welcome all comments, opinions, and suggestions, so don't be shy! Share your own thoughts about your Halloween experiences as a kid.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYBODY!

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Ebook GIVEAWAYS! October Frights Blog Hop 10/1 - 10/10: DREAMWEAVERS, JAGANNATH, & SOULSNATCHER

10/6/2015

2 Comments

 
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Ebook Giveaways: 1 copy each of my paranormal thrillers DREAMWEAVERS and SOULSNATCHER and one copy of my post-apocalyptic sci-fi/ horror thriller JAGANNATH!
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Click on cover image to go to Amazon's DREAMWEAVERS page
Anything can happen when dreams merge with reality... including murder.

Welcome to Dreamweavers, Incorporated, where Dr. Paula Steiner blends lucid dreaming techniques with neuro-stimulation to teach her patients how to control their dreams and conquer their personal demons.

Toni Fontaine’s possessive ex-husband is stalking her, while nightmares of brutal violence torment her. Travis Colt is haunted by the ghosts of his dead wife and son every night while he sleeps. When Toni and Travis meet at Dreamweavers, sparks fly, and dreams literally come true.

But fellow patient Nick Buchanan is making nightmares come true. Nick, a bitter young man adored by women until an accident permanently scars his face, has learned a powerful secret: he incorporates his twisted dreams into the real world, and uses them to kill people he hates. When Toni spurns Nick’s advances and he sees her and Travis happy together, Nick makes Toni and Travis his next targets.

As the border between dreams and reality blurs, Toni and Travis realize they are the only ones who can stop Nick.

And the only way to defeat him is in their dreams.

Filled with hope, humor, romance, intrigue, action, surreal dreamscapes, a uniquely gifted and nefarious villain, and two amazing dogs, Dreamweavers reveals the compassion and resilience of the human—and canine—spirits with a triumphant climax that blends dreams and nightmares with what we all perceive as the real world.

RAVE TESTIMONIALS FOR DREAMWEAVERS:
"Kerry Denney has written another pulse-pounding thriller that captivated me instantly. If Hitchcock, King, and Koontz got together for a beer, they might come up with something this horrifyingly twisted. DREAMWEAVERS has my highest recommendation!" - Monique Lewis Happy, critically acclaimed Managing/ Acquisitions Editor at Winlock Press and Owner/ Managing Editor at Monique Happy Editorial Services
"Wow. This book jumps right in with the action. Love it! From the minute I started reading I couldn't put it down. This is another great unique idea by Kerry Alan Denney. DREAMWEAVERS grabs you and sucks you in and you don't want to stop reading. I had many "Whoa!" moments. It was a roller coaster of action and emotion. I highly recommend this book." - Veronica L. Smith at Horror Geeks Magazine
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Click on cover image to go to Amazon's JAGANNATH page
The monster from your nightmares is here. It’s destroying civilization. Soon the human race will be extinct.
 
The year is 2037, and Corporal Kimi Jayden has one chance to rescue the lone refugee girl who is miraculously immune to Reaper absorption. Thirteen-year-old Lily walks the deserted streets of Savannah alone, ever since the Reaper absorbed her family—and tried and failed to absorb her—a year ago. An amorphous creature that has nearly wiped out civilization, growing as it feeds, the Reaper assimilates its prey’s intelligence when it consumes flesh and blood, and transforms into monsters created from our darkest nightmares—and it loves tormenting its victims.

Kimi and her fellow survivors in the North Georgia Renegade Enclave believe Lily’s DNA holds the key to mankind’s survival. But the Reaper covets Lily, and Kimi must battle a ghastly horde of Reaper incarnations to preserve humanity’s last hope against extinction.

Jagannath reveals the resilience of the human spirit in an action-filled tale of terror, selfless courage, and ultimate redemption in the post-apocalyptic tradition of Justin Cronin's The Passage and Robert R. McCammon’s Swan Song.

RAVE TESTIMONIALS FOR JAGANNATH:
"Jagannath is a hair-raising, fantastic, adventurous ride. Brilliant, amazing, and impossible to put down. A must-read for all sci-fi/ horror fans. Highly recommended!" - Lynda Fitzgerald, critically acclaimed author of If Truth Be Told, Of Words & Music, and the LIVE mystery series
"Kerry Alan Denney's Jagannath has everything I love in an action novel: great characters, strange otherworldly monsters, and one spunky four-legged hero. With every novel, Denney grows stronger as both an author and storyteller, and this latest effort proves this in spades. If you want a story that holds you in its grip from page one to the last line, pick up this book!" - James Rollins, New York Times bestselling author of The Sixth Extinction and the Sigma Force series
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Click on cover image to go to Amazon's SOULSNATCHER page
2nd Place Winner - 2014 Book of the Year - The Drunken Druid's International Book Award.

Children with extraordinary psychic powers are being used as pawns in a deadly supernatural war. Jasmine "Jazz" Tandy and her nine-year-old son Chaz, who can heal people with his touch, are fleeing from a ruthless organization that kidnaps these children. Kaylee Daley can control and manipulate plant life. Mara Fleming can see into the future. Their only hope for salvation is a covert group called the Guardians, who protect these children from the organization's merciless hunters.

Dr. Larssen Sössnacher, the organization's leader - called "Soulsnatcher" by the remarkable children he abducts and exploits - believes Chaz is the miraculous prodigy who will grant him the immortality he craves... and he'll stop at nothing to get Chaz.

Cody Jackson, a Guardian and martial arts and weapons expert, rescues Jazz and Chaz from Soulsnatcher's hunters and takes them to Homestead, a safe haven where the children learn to use their powers to help others. But Soulsnatcher's hunters raid Homestead and battle the Guardians in a surreal deadly showdown - with the souls of all the children as the ultimate prize.

RAVE TESTIMONIALS FOR SOULSNATCHER:
"Kerry Alan Denney's SOULSNATCHER grabs you by both the heart and the throat, as children with incredible powers are put in the path of villains with truly horrific ambitions. Here is a story rife with adventure, suspense, and a dash of humor, and it had me turning the pages deep into the night--and it will have you doing the same." - James Rollins, New York Times bestselling author of THE EYE OF GOD and the SIGMA FORCE series
"What can I say about this? How about - Captivating! Author Kerry Alan Denney has a firm grasp on writing and the English language, and it shows. He paints scenes with beautiful detail that fills your mind's eye from the very first page. Every word in this story has a heartbeat and every time I read a great book I am left obsessing for more. What more could you want? Read this now! You won't regret it." - Sara Knight from A Drunken Druid's View

Giveaway starts 10/7 ends 10/12
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Continue the 2015 October Frights Blog Hop here:

http://clarissajohal.blogspot.com/

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2015 October Frights Blog Hop: Thoughts on Lucid Dreaming - Reality vs. Myth

10/5/2015

6 Comments

 
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Thoughts on Lucid Dreaming:
Reality vs. Myth

originally published on the Darkness Dwells Blog June 9, 2015
subsequently published in the paranormal thriller
DREAMWEAVERS
by Kerry Alan Denney aka The Reality Bender
(Juju Mojo Publications, August 2015)

lucid dream: a dream in which a person is aware that he or she is dreaming. In a lucid dream, the dreamer has a greater chance to exert some degree of control over their participation within the dream or be able to manipulate their imaginary experiences in their dream environment.

***

Is lucid dreaming real? Very much so. In fact, the human species has been engaged in pursuing, studying, and perfecting the techniques of lucid dreaming for thousands of years. And we’re just now starting to get a handle on it as we delve deeper into the study of the subconscious mind. Historical texts are laden with the products of fantastic dreams. Who knows what we’ll dream up next?
 
With microchip technology, we’ve made a thousand angels dance on the head of a pin — or on the point of a needle, to be more historically accurate. Medical research is producing new cures for diseases every day, and will hopefully continue to do so. We’ve recently dived in to the amazing field of nanotechnology, and who knows where that will lead us next? Scientists, quantum physicists, and astronomers have just recently discovered dark matter and dark energy. Even the vacuum of space between the stars and planets apparently has a life of its own. Every new day makes another dream come true.

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"Dream World" by Spraycan2
Can I prove lucid dreaming is real? A better question would be: Can anyone prove dreaming is real, or that dreams are anything more than figments of our incredible imaginations? As Travis mentioned in DREAMWEAVERS, no one can prove love and happiness are real, and by extension, no one can prove that faith, trust, mercy, and hope are real. They are not tangible, physical forces that can be accurately measured by anything within our scope.

We can point to examples of their manifestation and application in the so-called “real world” that we all subjectively agree upon, but we cannot prove they exist. Yet so many of us believe so fervently in their existence that we unequivocally place — indulge me here — our faith and trust in them. I can’t prove the existence of any of the above-mentioned forces, but I most assuredly believe in them all. They are what makes us human, and separates us from savage animals.

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"Dream" by Taenaron
According to modern beliefs that may be no more than popular misconception, The Book of Revelations
— often known simply as Revelation or The Apocalypse — in the Holy Bible was written by the Apostle John. And that entire final book of the Bible comes from... you got it: a dream, or series of dreams. Although we can’t prove who wrote it or from where it originated — many scholars and historians have desperately tried, without anything more than squabbling and disagreement as the final result — one fact is clear: the book that finishes the Bible was inspired by dreams. The concept begs another intriguing question: How else could so many “dream facts” and incidents be remembered so clearly if the dreams were not lucid, and easily recalled by the conscious mind? Either that, or it’s the demented ravings of a warped mind. Whichever it is, I hope none of it ever comes true.

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"Apocalypse" by Jarka A.
The methodology, practice, and implementation of the techniques used to achieve a state of lucid dreaming — actually causing a crossover between the conscious and subconscious mind — mentioned in DREAMWEAVERS is factually accurate, and easily researchable. Additionally, what my fictional character Dr. Paula Steiner said about WILDs, DILDs, and MILDs is well-known modern accrued knowledge about the numerous studies of dreams and lucid dreaming — and is just as easily researched as well as applied.

I heartily encourage all my readers to find out the facts and sift between the myths for yourselves, and make up your own minds about how much of it is true, and how much of it is fantasy. After all, fantasy is merely nothing more than the projection of our imaginations into the fabric of what we perceive as “reality,” is it not?

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"Caravan" by Salvadore Dali
Have I had lucid dreams, and if so, did I have them deliberately? Oh yes, I most certainly have. In fact, during the researching and writing of DREAMWEAVERS, I became quite adept at the practice.

The most common and effective way of achieving a lucid dreaming state, as noted in DREAMWEAVERS, is to make a determined, persistent, and eventually unconscious habit of asking yourself during every single moment of your awareness “Am I dreaming now? Now? How about now?” until it becomes so indelibly ingrained into your everyday existence that you no longer think about it consciously, but rather make it a mantra that forces you to examine every facet of what you perceive as “existence” so that — in those oh-so-brief moments when you are actually dreaming — the question intrudes into your every thought, and voila! You inevitably start asking yourself if you’re dreaming within your dreams, and you do one of three things, as mentioned in DREAMWEAVERS: You wake up, your mind takes you into another distinctly different dream in which you lose track of your conscious awareness that you are dreaming, or you remain in the current dream and learn how to manipulate and control your dream environment, your very dreamscape.

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"Condo Dreamscape" by Funkwood
Modern studies of lucid dreaming have proven that the best way to control your dreams and therefore your dream environment is to look at your hands and feet in your dream, which Dr. Steiner also specified in DREAMWEAVERS. Think about it: How often, in your dreams, have you seen your own hands and feet, or for that matter, any portion of your own body? The recognition and acceptance of your physical self while dreaming compels the conscious part of your “dreaming” (aka subconscious) mind to, in effect, “wake up” and recognize what we so often do not recognize in our dreams: the existence and awareness of our self, or better yet, our physical acknowledgement of our existence in what we all perceive — and commonly agree on — as the physical “real world.”
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Cliffs of Moher, Ireland
I believe it’s important to mention, at this point in our exploration of the dream-world (and everything our subconscious minds can imagine), that achieving a constant ability to maintain a lucid dreaming state while we sleep requires such a vigorous, strict, rigorous, persistent, and demanding self-discipline that many who try to examine the phenomenon will inevitably fall by the wayside. As Toni mentioned in DREAMWEAVERS, we are so effectively caught up in the material world that any expectations that a metaphysical world beyond this one may exist often become a secondary consideration, a flight of fancy, a pursuit by those who have chosen to peruse an imaginary world that so many of us believe we don’t have the time to examine. But we never have time for anything nowadays; for the things that matter to us, we must make the time.
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"Serenity"
As mentioned in DREAMWEAVERS, I can hardly begin to stress how liberating and empowering the ability to control your subconscious mind is. In the blissful moments that I have repeatedly achieved a lucid dreaming state, I have woken up to a new day in which I truly believed I could conquer and achieve anything, even beyond — pardon the cliché — my wildest dreams. And what could possibly be so horrifyingly terrible about such an inspiring feeling of self-confidence?
 
Many modern psychiatrists and psychologists still consider the notion unachievable, a preposterous fantasy, and as Dr. Steiner thinks to herself in DREAMWEAVERS, they have accordingly labeled the study and implementation of lucid dreaming as “voodoo psychiatry.” Who is to say who’s right? Is it the people who want us to keep coming back over and over to pay them enormous sums of money to help us solve our problems and fight our personal demons in the so-called “real world,” or is it the dreamers, schemers, philosophers, and daring intrepid explorers who have the courage to ask “What lies beyond this world we perceive as real, and how can we utilize our awareness of it in a positive way to influence our lives and our problems so that we can learn to rise above every imaginable obstacle that impedes our progress in achieving our goals... or better yet, in making our dreams come true?”
 
I suspect you are asking yourself the same question now, if you’ve dared to come this far in our mutual exploration of what we consider real and what we label as fantasy. My kudos and a huge “bravo” to you for your courage, my friends. We are the intrepid explorers.

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The Eagle Nebula's "Pillars of Creation" from The Hubble Telescope
Can anyone alive today manifest their dreams into reality, as Nick does in DREAMWEAVERS? I sincerely hope not. We would all be screwed, because unfortunately mankind is rife with those who would happily crush those whom they believe oppose them in order to make their own twisted dreams come true. Maybe one day, if we’re lucky and vigilant, that selfish madness in our species will die the gruesome death it so richly deserves to die.
 
Is the human race as a species evolving? I certainly hope so. We’ve come so far, yet have such a long way to go. I hope we find the right answers, and implement them, and that we do so together. It’s really the only way we have even a chance — or a hope — of surviving the ravages of time, the beastliness of narcissism, and the folly of hubris.

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"The Harrowing of Hell" by Hieronymus Bosch
My best advice to those of you who dare to dream the Big Dream, as I have dreamt so often and will continue to do so until I keel over for the final time and take that magical journey into the great beyond, is to make sure the good guys win in the end. Whatever your religious or spiritual beliefs, teach your children the awareness of this world that lies outside the grasp of our five physical senses, and trust in them to determine for themselves how to respond to it. We are the genetic product of our ancestors, and haven’t completely screwed up everything yet, have we? We still have much hope. Many of us have faith in ourselves, and we should have it in our progeny as well. They are the future architects and carpenters of the world we’re building, and hoping to cause to flourish.
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Bring happiness to others, and consequently to yourselves and to those whom you treasure. Share love, without exception and without reservation. Be kind to strangers; a simple smile and a kind word will open doors as well as hearts. Find the difference between good and evil, propagate the former, and fight the latter.
 
Thank you for joining me on this fantastic journey into the endlessly fascinating human mind and heart. I wish you all the very best of discoveries in your adventures, and hope that all your wildest, most heartfelt dreams come true. If we’re lucky and persistent, and if we persevere against all opposition, we shall one day meet each other in those dreams, and it will be a most happy and auspicious day.
 
Be true to yourself and to those whom you cherish, and may grace, kindness, hope, love, faith, mercy, compassion, and trust follow you all your days in this reality and every imaginable reality beyond it.
 
Kerry Alan Denney
May 2015


My special thanks to the talented author Clarissa Johal and all my amazing fellow authors on the 2015 October Frights Blog Hop.

Best wishes to all for much success with all your writing endeavors!

My heartiest thanks to all my wonderful readers and all the book lovers the world over: YOU are the magical power source that sparks my imagination and keeps the Big Dream Machine soaring through this universe, the next, and all the worlds in between.

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Continue the 2015 October Frights Blog Hop here:

http://clarissajohal.blogspot.com/

Thanks for joining us!
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