TIN UNIVERSE DAILY #235

#235

There are so many versions of some stories.

Especially when a prospective to the title of The Pledge is screwing with reality in Utah.

Hell, you know that place of overheating.

Mountains and mountains of nothing but lava pits, red clay, and sulfur rock is what Hell is. The only signs of life unless you travel down into one of the pits are stray bones that on appearance appear to have been thrown about here and there. The bones which are mostly from non-human races that enjoyed pain too much for the normal tortures Hell offers are signs of just how real Hell is.

A lie told about Hell by the mythology makers is that you go there only in spiritual form. This just is not true by a long shot. When you set foot or whatever sort of appendage you move around with or without you are actually given a new body for the torturous pain that is awaiting you, an immortal flesh form perfect and ready for the pleasures of the creatures created to inhabit this realm to play with.

Another misconception about Hell is that it is not a true place of substance. A lot of bullshit centers around it being either a state of mind after death or some holy section of creation.

Hell was actually one of the first things to come into creation but at that time it was nothing more than a realm of primordial black matter, but after the great rebellion in Heaven Lucifer chose it as his place of banishment when he was cast down and had hoped for it to be also his standing ground for his counter confrontation but he had other roles to play that no one in creation even knew about as he found himself also a slave to Destiny and became the King Of Hell and The Eternal Damnation.

Down within The Throne Pit Of Hell at the center of Lucifer’s kingdom a conversation is on its finishing moments between Lucifer and someone who has become a being of great interest to him, ‘You were given safe passage here to see what will await you no matter what you do. How does that feel?’ asked Lucifer

‘Feels like justice,’ Delta told him.

Lucifer’s fingernails scratched into his once beautiful skin as he stood from his throne and placed his hands behind his back. He would love to just rip apart this flesh standing in front of him but knows he would be judged forever if he stepped into that direction and he wants this man’s soul and flesh but that soul is being keep somewhere else in creation and not within his reach as of yet.

‘Welting flowers are in my garden, and my sunshine is raindrops on broken dreams. I am Lucifer, The Morning Star, The Singer and one day I will have your soul to eat just like I had hers Dream Healer.’

Delta looked away from Lucifer to the Angel Ravel who will stand behind the throne of Hell until Judgment Day as an eye for Heaven to the deeds of Hell.

‘One day can be a day very far away,’ Delta said.

Lucifer smiled, ‘I can wait.’

The Dream Healer’s paratrooper boots slightly stirred up a little sulfur dust from the ground as he turned away from the throne, ‘I guess then I will see you again someday but now I have somewhere else to be.’ Then he gave a slight bow of indifference, ‘King Of Hell.’

With that gesture he turned fully away from the burning throne and walked away into his future. As he climbed up the steep hill of red clay and sulfur rock that led out from the throne pit the whole of Hell shook in anger at the defiance of one of its future citizens.

As The Dream Healer left Hell Lucifer walked over to were stood Ravel as always straight in posture and ready to fly if he hears the voice speak to him, ‘Do you believe in redemption for all still loyal Angel of Heaven?’ Lucifer asked Ravel.

Ravel stirred only slightly turning his flaming sword which is forever pressed into the soil of Hell until needed, ‘All have true redemption open to them Morning Star but that one has a closed destiny just as you do.’

Check out all other Tin Universe releases at the below places:

SMASHWORDS:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/byseries/20576

Also can be found in Barnes&Noble Nook Store, iTunes, and many more places to buy ebooks.

The sale of this book without its cover….well, is, sort of, impossible since it really doesn’t have a cover but let us go through the legal spray out anyways. If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that it was reported to the publisher as “unsold and destroyed.” Hands up to you who have books like this in your collection? Now that I put my hand down we can continue with the credits and copyright and legal and stuff that people just don’t ever pay attention to unless it is pumping their own horn.

An Original Publication of System* Publishing, a Tin Universe book published by System*Publishing, a division of System*Productions, Melbourne, Florida. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead or living dead, is entirely and very much so in the coincidental.

Smashwords Edition Copyright © 2015, Brian C. Williams, System*Productions. Tin Universe Daily, and all related titles, characters, and elements are trademarks of System*Productions. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. While unauthorized reproduction is sometimes needed, please remember us writers types are for the most part a poor lot just in search of a ways to tell our stories and enough money to add to our Doctor Who collections….well, at least that fits me. For more information on Tin Universe Daily, the artists who contributed to this book, and Tin Universe contact System*Productions at hangofwednesday@gmail.com

Written by Brian C. Williams

Edited by Brian C. Williams

Any Additional Photography by Stainless Photography

Cover Digital Work by 74 Images

TIN UNIVERSE DAILY #233

#233

There are so many versions of some stories.

Especially when a prospective to the title of The Pledge is screwing with reality in Utah.

A time within no time later, from the last time, inside a room contained by the house of Death, on the floor was a body.

This room has only been used 3 other times to delay judgment.

And once more in the future.

Into this room nothing in creation can see, but for the eyes within it there is nothing here happening. It contained no furniture except for one old wooden chair sitting in one far corner from the door and a mirror dresser with a washbasin sitting on top of it filled with Vodka.

Standing over the male human body, which was shaking because of the fact of being naked on the cold stone floor, was a figure almost shinning with power.

The figure doing the standing was wearing a green suit which was without a wrinkle, smooth as if never touched, not even so much as for someone having ever put it on.

The figure bent down and put one hand on the floor for balance and cupped his other hand around his mouth so he could whisper in the shaking man’s ear, ‘You have been given a chance. You will never be granted salvation but you can walk a different path for a while longer. It is your choice though. This is not a gift but a further curse for your dammed existence.’

The unclothed body continued to shake but slowly his blue eyes began to open.

Check out all other Tin Universe releases at the below places:

SMASHWORDS:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/byseries/20576

Also can be found in Barnes&Noble Nook Store, iTunes, and many more places to buy ebooks.

The sale of this book without its cover….well, is, sort of, impossible since it really doesn’t have a cover but let us go through the legal spray out anyways. If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that it was reported to the publisher as “unsold and destroyed.” Hands up to you who have books like this in your collection? Now that I put my hand down we can continue with the credits and copyright and legal and stuff that people just don’t ever pay attention to unless it is pumping their own horn.

An Original Publication of System* Publishing, a Tin Universe book published by System*Publishing, a division of System*Productions, Melbourne, Florida. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead or living dead, is entirely and very much so in the coincidental.

Smashwords Edition Copyright © 2015, Brian C. Williams, System*Productions. Tin Universe Daily, and all related titles, characters, and elements are trademarks of System*Productions. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. While unauthorized reproduction is sometimes needed, please remember us writers types are for the most part a poor lot just in search of a ways to tell our stories and enough money to add to our Doctor Who collections….well, at least that fits me. For more information on Tin Universe Daily, the artists who contributed to this book, and Tin Universe contact System*Productions at hangofwednesday@gmail.com

Written by Brian C. Williams

Edited by Brian C. Williams

Any Additional Photography by Stainless Photography

Cover Digital Work by 74 Images

TIN UNIVERSE DAILY #232

#232

There are so many versions of some stories.

Especially when a prospective to the title of The Pledge is screwing with reality in Utah.

The structure within the desert setting was in appearance very large, about the size of an oilrig and very tall at that.

About the size of a skyscraper.

Two abouts is probably 1 too many.

It had barbwire like veins that moved in and out from the building that you could see within the metal like veins what appeared to be fingers, thousands of fingers floating through, up and down within a tan colored liquid.

The grounds just around the building were a tall growth of giant sized apple trees; which covered the fact that a very small wooden door laid at the front of the structure.

Funny enough the trees where giant but the apples where normal size.

Someone must love apples around this place.

The two older gentlemen we met earlier now are walking in their Napoleon outfits approaching one of the apple trees, one that sits right in front of the main, and seemly only entrance door.

‘Should the both of us be here? What if we end up trapped in Death’s realm… we will be the cause of the type of chaos we are here to try and stop?’

‘Death would not have even granted just one of us an audience.’

They began to dig through the huge pile of apples which were lying against the door until they finally had the area in front of the door clear. Then the door swung open without warning knocking them both to the ground.

‘I guess our presence is known?’

‘Can’t get much by this old bugger.’

‘And you can’t get much older than him either.’

One of the gentlemen peeked his head into the door, ‘You know the last time I was here they served sushi.’

The other one shoved him through the door, ‘For a creature that does not need to eat you sure are hungry a good deal of the time I’m around you… and I’m always around you.’

The older gentlemen walked through the darkness of many very empty and long corridors only guided by a floating flame candle and their own ability to see in the dark, though this dark was dark dark.

A shadow folded into a most terrible demise. That was what happens within this sort of darkness.

After a walk that was over an hour in time the gentlemen came upon a dining room with a long table that could sit fifty people easy on each side. At the long away from them end of the table was a fireplace and standing in front of the fireplace was a figure dressed all in green.

‘Welcome brothers.’

Check out all other Tin Universe releases at the below places:

SMASHWORDS:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/byseries/20576

Also can be found in Barnes&Noble Nook Store, iTunes, and many more places to buy ebooks.

The sale of this book without its cover….well, is, sort of, impossible since it really doesn’t have a cover but let us go through the legal spray out anyways. If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that it was reported to the publisher as “unsold and destroyed.” Hands up to you who have books like this in your collection? Now that I put my hand down we can continue with the credits and copyright and legal and stuff that people just don’t ever pay attention to unless it is pumping their own horn.

An Original Publication of System* Publishing, a Tin Universe book published by System*Publishing, a division of System*Productions, Melbourne, Florida. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead or living dead, is entirely and very much so in the coincidental.

Smashwords Edition Copyright © 2015, Brian C. Williams, System*Productions. Tin Universe Daily, and all related titles, characters, and elements are trademarks of System*Productions. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. While unauthorized reproduction is sometimes needed, please remember us writers types are for the most part a poor lot just in search of a ways to tell our stories and enough money to add to our Doctor Who collections….well, at least that fits me. For more information on Tin Universe Daily, the artists who contributed to this book, and Tin Universe contact System*Productions at hangofwednesday@gmail.com

Written by Brian C. Williams

Edited by Brian C. Williams

Any Additional Photography by Stainless Photography

Cover Digital Work by 74 Images

TIN UNIVERSE DAILY #227

#227

There are so many versions of some stories.

Especially when a prospective to the title of The Pledge is screwing with reality in Utah and not even knowing she is doing so.

The Dream Trail is the parcel of imaginings, the domicile of sleepy time.

A young mind unknown to the part of her mind that lets her know that her mind is doing stuff is trying to change the way things happen.

But she isn’t there yet and thus here it goes.

The sort of power she has is dangerous and could have saved someone very brave but alas that isn’t to be here.

The individual this dream is happening to will never know the name of the young lady who tried to rescue her, even while she didn’t know she was doing so.

The dream was crushed… it was broken, and within the dream were images on shards of glass; which were lining the floor in a pattern like a shattered window massacre.

In this place hot in a nothingness of greying one spirit found herself beaten and defeated.

This place was part of what the woman called her life and her home.

This is an ending.

Little images on the floor like television promos featuring moments from birth to death.

The trap that had been sprung was laid out within the mind of a refugee who took his own life during the living of the dream. The in flesh person was pushed to that point from a bargain waged with a half demon called The Weapon. An innocent was sacrificed so a trap by forces of great power and malevolence could be sprung attacking a spirit who stood up for those in need of some sort of justice.

She could barely breathe. Moving at all is a struggle. Getting up to be situated on her knees took every ounce of strength she had remaining. Her gasps keeping her chest heaving in and out and her eyes were cast down looking upon her own blood stained hands caused each moment of life to sound out like perpetual discomfort.

Her clothes were shredded, blood soaked and damaged like her body. Once she traveled The Dream Trail famously dressed in what some would call her costume. She saw it as her uniform of service. She always wore those red boots that came from a dream about the old west and those black leather overalls she got from the dreams of a lustful Goth boy in Winnipeg. She was an image to behold if there ever was one to fit that phrase.

Out from within the shattered dream came the scavengers of The Dream Trail, The Burial. The peering white of the exhausted trance was split into sharp cuts for them to pass through.

The Burial are a one-conciseness being who have survived within thousands of bodies created from the leftover substances of forgotten dreams.

On average The Burial stand at around five feet in height with dark red skin, two legs, and they have one arm that reaches out from the side of their bodies. Their hands have huge claws with fingers that can grow at will to unimaginable lengths.

A flood of them came out from the broken cracks of The Dream Trail; which is where they live within to begin animalistic movements to circle her. She had not even noticed them when as one they stood over her dripping an oozing green liquid from their eyes.

She was still in another place as one of The Burial began to speak in an almost imploded speech volume, ‘We finally have you. After so many life times we get to feed on your spirit.’

Another of The Burial moves one of its long fingernails down her back though she does not move and it kept cutting until it was cutting deep enough to touch her spine. It turns one of its fingernails chipping a little at one of the bones of her spin, ‘You stood up for the flesh ones against The Spiders. That was foolish.’

A whisper comes from her mouth but it almost sounded more like it was coming from above, ‘I may… this da… but 8 more shall follow me… Mary’s hear my words.’

Fingers grow, fingernails reach out, and mouths open ready to eat.

She was called Mash. Once she stood in front of a throne as a noble Sovereign from an ancient planet called Headlingsi. A warrior who led her armies to many victories and whose people died out so long ago that they are gone even to the memories of the oldest of creations races. She was not known to many to be The Dream Healer and one day will be forgotten in total but her life was with purpose and the future will tell that, in time…

Check out all other Tin Universe releases at the below places:

SMASHWORDS:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/byseries/20576

Also can be found in Barnes&Noble Nook Store, iTunes, and many more places to buy ebooks.

The sale of this book without its cover….well, is, sort of, impossible since it really doesn’t have a cover but let us go through the legal spray out anyways. If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that it was reported to the publisher as “unsold and destroyed.” Hands up to you who have books like this in your collection? Now that I put my hand down we can continue with the credits and copyright and legal and stuff that people just don’t ever pay attention to unless it is pumping their own horn.

An Original Publication of System* Publishing, a Tin Universe book published by System*Publishing, a division of System*Productions, Melbourne, Florida. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead or living dead, is entirely and very much so in the coincidental.

Smashwords Edition Copyright © 2015, Brian C. Williams, System*Productions. Tin Universe Daily, and all related titles, characters, and elements are trademarks of System*Productions. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. While unauthorized reproduction is sometimes needed, please remember us writers types are for the most part a poor lot just in search of a ways to tell our stories and enough money to add to our Doctor Who collections….well, at least that fits me. For more information on Tin Universe Daily, the artists who contributed to this book, and Tin Universe contact System*Productions at hangofwednesday@gmail.com

Written by Brian C. Williams

Edited by Brian C. Williams

Any Additional Photography by Stainless Photography

Cover Digital Work by 74 Images

Tin Universe Daily #163

Tin Universe Daily #163

NO REFILL: WAIT UNTIL THE SUNSET DIES- PART 11

Sunset Dies, One of The Pyramids Of Anger,

Mark has been throwing up for over an hour since waking from the unknown state he was in. Can you sleep or be not awake when sleeping?

A question for another time I think.

Mark slowly gets to his feet where he sees the bits of the black sludge that came down with him draining down through little holes in the glass floor.

He also finally notices that he now is not wearing a stitch of clothing. Unusual for his non-sex dreams but he will find nothing as usual in Sunset Dies.

With his feet barely able to stand he walks from the room out through a light so bright he could not even see what was outside the door to find himself standing in the middle of a desert and outside of a pyramid seven times the size of any found in Egypt or at least bigger than any modern man has ever sat eyes on.

NO REFILL: WAIT UNTIL THE SUNSET DIES- PART 12

The Outlands of Sunset Dies,

Some people have this notion that Delta being The Dream Healer of The Dream Trail, that being The Dream Healer (not counting the fact that he is of The 9) has given him an existence with extra ordinary abilities and powers but in fact the only thing that separates him from others in the Dream Trail is the fact of him being a living, breathing flesh boy walking around within it and that is not something that happens around this neck of existence that often. Sure all within The Dream Trail have a solid enough existence but all but Delta and the citizens of The Trail have bodies or forms outside also.

One thing Delta wishes to not be true was how he traveled…well, not how as much as his arrivals so to speak. He can go anywhere he wishes within The Dream Trail when a task is finished but he arrives without choice of where to appear. Right now he just appeared in Sunset Dies in the middle of a desert with nothing in sight but Suns all above him and around him for miles there is only sand…and more sand…and it is nothing but hot….miles of sand…; so he starts one foot in front of the other and begins his journey across the sands.

‘I hate sand.’

(c)System * Publishing
brian c.williams

Start at the beginning,

Tin Universe Monthly #1: Stereo

The book that started it all.

It's FREE

Or the first Tin Universe Middle Grade Story,

Tin Universe Middle Grade Series #1: Mildred Betbeze

Tin Universe Daily #159

Tin Universe Daily #159

NO REFILL: WAIT UNTIL THE SUNSET DIES- PART 7

The Dream Trail,

Right now The Dream Healer is taking a little respite. Just returning from cleaning up an old mess he is now deep in closed eyes and deep in a need for silence but also in need of listening ears.

Within The Dream Trail when you speak you never know what sort of ears you may find friendly to listen to you. All depends on where you are.

‘And here I always thought “castles built in the sky” was just an expression.’

‘Haven’t you learned yet mate that nothing within The Dream Trail is just an expression?’

Sitting on the edge of a sidewalk jetted out from the steps of the surrounding walls of a small castle floating in the air sat Delta, known in these parts officially as The Dream Healer, and sitting with him was a worker pigeon on his break named Gamache.

An old pigeon who sounds like he came from some Australian such place.

Delta’s red duster jacket blew back and then over his head from the winds and the red Mars dust that lives on it fills the air giving the area of sky the castle was floating in a reddish tent to it.

Almost like a sunset.

But more like death.

‘How is the construction going?’

Delta talked to the worker pigeon as he scratched at the skin on his left hand thinking about a mission that left him a burn that will not heal.

The worker pigeon looked back over his shoulder at the half built castle as other worker pigeons were going up and down on pulleys and walking along scaffolding.

Gamache looked up at Delta gives a smile and takes another bite from his peanut butter sandwich, ‘We’re getting close to a finish here I think and then we move onto our next castle build.’

‘There is always a next castle?’ Delta asked.

The worker pigeon stopped eating and looked at Delta as serious as any pigeon could look serious without trying to bite your hand off… or at least as serious as any talking pigeon could look, ‘Mate if we stopped building that would mean the children had stopped dreaming. Dump that, I say that would be sad. This is the lives of my clan from which we live.’

Delta stands up brushing off his jacket sending Mars dust flying and causing the worker pigeon to sneeze. He will never be clean of that dust. Some dirt never comes clean.

‘Leaving already Dream Healer?’

‘I do not belong here. This place is too pure.’

‘You can stay. There is a place for everyone here. Sort of the point of all dreams.’

‘I am not everyone and I have an appointment to keep. I appreciated the company and calm though.’

Delta steps off from the sidewalk into the sky.

Gamache packs up his lunch leftovers and heads back to his job of painting the castle walls. This castle will be painted green for a child in Boston dreaming of traveling the world and fighting the good fight.

(c)System * Publishing
brian c.williams

Start at the beginning,

Tin Universe Monthly #1: Stereo

The book that started it all.

It's FREE

Or the first Tin Universe Middle Grade Story,

Tin Universe Middle Grade Series #1: Mildred Betbeze

Tin Universe Daily #158

Tin Universe Daily #158

NO REFILL: WAIT UNTIL THE SUNSET DIES: PART 6

Sunset Thought,

It is a place within The Dream Trail.

Which by the way if you did not know is the realm of dreams.

In fact when it comes to Sunset Thought it is the place where the spirit rests between The Dream Trail and the flesh world.

The worker pigeons that keep everything in The Dream Trail working ship shape gave it that name of Sunset Thought because it contains nothing more than a bench placed on a beach and the sunsets rise in the sky over the water over and over again.

A golden shimmer of sunlight is replaced by the darker red of dawn and changes back over when dust comes back once again. It is in itself a high light of creational beauty. To a mortal spirit in this place it is most calming and keeps hearts from exploding when they exit The Dream Trail because humans were never meant to dream, they just took it upon themselves to do so.

There is another place also to which our spirit goes between The Dream Trail and the flesh world, a place not as pleasant as Sunset Thought. Anyone who has woken from a dream knows all dreams are not calming and most defiantly not all that pleasant to your spirit. The place you go between a nightmare and the flesh world is called Sunset Dies and every so often a spirit gets lost on its way to The Dream Trail and can end up trapped there. In cases like these a healer is needed to try and bring that lost spirit back from where it does not belong, The Dream Healer is called.

(c)System * Publishing
brian c.williams

Start at the beginning,

Tin Universe Monthly #1: Stereo

The book that started it all.

It's FREE

Or the first Tin Universe Middle Grade Story,

Tin Universe Middle Grade Series #1: Mildred Betbeze

Tin Universe Daily #133

Tin Universe Daily #133

There are so many versions of some stories,

Especially when a prospective to the title of The Pledge is screwing with reality in Utah,

Hell, you know that place of overheating.

Mountains and mountains of nothing but lava pits, red clay, and sulfur rock is what Hell is. The only signs of life unless you travel down into one of the pits are stray bones that on appearance appear to have been thrown about here and there. The bones which are mostly from non-human races that enjoyed pain too much for the normal tortures Hell offers are signs of just how real Hell is.

A lie told about Hell by the mythology makers is that you go there only in spiritual form. This just is not true by a long shot. When you set foot or whatever sort of appendage you move around with or without you are actually given a new body for the torturous pain that is awaiting you, an immortal flesh form perfect and ready for the pleasures of the creatures created to inhabit this realm to play with.

Another misconception about Hell is that it is not a true place of substance. A lot of bullshit centers around it being either a state of mind after death or some holy section of creation.

Hell was actually one of the first things to come into creation but at that time it was nothing more than a realm of primordial black matter, but after the great rebellion in Heaven Lucifer chose it as his place of banishment when he was cast down and had hoped for it to be also his standing ground for his counter confrontation but he had other roles to play that no one in creation even knew about as he found himself also a slave to Destiny and became the King Of Hell and The Eternal Damnation.

Down within The Throne Pit Of Hell at the center of Lucifer’s kingdom a conversation is on its finishing moments between Lucifer and someone who has become a being of great interest to him.

‘You were given safe passage here to see what will await you no matter what you do. How does that feel?’ asked Lucifer

‘Feels like justice,’ Delta

Lucifer’s fingernails scratched into his once beautiful skin as he stood from his throne and placed his hands behind his back. He would love to just rip apart this flesh standing in front of him but knows he would be judged forever if we stepped into that direction and he wants this man’s soul and flesh but that soul is being keep somewhere else in creation and not within his reach as of yet.

‘Welting flowers are in my garden, and my sunshine is raindrops on broken dreams. I am Lucifer, The Morning Star, The Singer and one day I will have your soul to eat just like I had hers Dream Healer.’

Delta looked away from Lucifer to the Angel Ravel who will stand behind the throne of Hell until Judgment Day as an eye for Heaven to the deeds of Hell.

‘One day can be a day very far away,’ Delta

Lucifer smiled, ‘I can wait.’

The Dream Healer’s paratrooper boots slightly stir up a little sulfur dust from the ground as he turned away from the throne, ‘I guess then I will see you again someday but now I have somewhere else to be.’ Then he gave a slight bow of indifference, ‘King Of Hell.’

And with that gesture he turned fully away from the burning throne and walked away fully into his future. As he climbed up the steep hill of red clay and sulfur rock that led out from the throne pit the whole of Hell shook in anger at the defiance of one of its future citizens.

As The Dream Healer left Hell Lucifer walked over to were stood Ravel as always straight in posture and ready to fly if he hears the voice speak to him.

‘Do you believe in redemption for all still loyal Angel of Heaven?’

Ravel stirs only slightly turning his flaming sword which is forever pressed into the soil of Hell until needed, ‘All have true redemption open to them Morning Star but that one has a closed destiny just as you do.’

(c)System * Publishing
brian c.williams

Coming May 31st 2015

Tin Universe Month #24

Featuring A FIRST SHOT FIRED, Part Six

and

May's Tin Universe Daily collected in one place

FREE

Start at the beginning,

Tin Universe Monthly #1: Stereo

The book that started it all.

It's FREE

Or the first Tin Universe Middle Grade Story,

Tin Universe Middle Grade Series #1: Mildred Betbeze

Tin Universe Daily #127

Tin Universe Daily #127

There are so many versions of some stories,

Especially when a prospective to the title of The Pledge is screwing with reality in Utah,

The date seems to be April 16th 1945, though reality is twisted a little by the previous events in creation and by that previously mentioned very powerful young mind in Utah.

In Berlin the Nero Order has just been given. A dictator mad with defeat only sees the failures of his people to achieve victory and sets out plans to make all of them suffer for not achieving his goals.

In the surrounding hills near a concentration camp coded Valhalla you would find a crow like creature sitting in a tree watching events unfold in an information gathering flight to this little planet we call Earth.

That though is a story for another time.

But also nearby, as within the same country, near by a young man of war had this false hope. The hope was a hope of sorts where he was making his thoughts delusional to get through the minutes. A dream, no a wish to change his surroundings from a place of hiding and maybe surrender to a place of his old life. The place of his life before the war. But all of that is fantasy and he knows all too well the facts walking nearby.

Last year he was in Budapest and also spent time near the Austrian border in December working as an operations guard, all being the good soldier for his country. Now the cold chill he feels off the walls and the floors remind him of that December but also of the winters when he was younger. He grew up in a small farming village in Germany. He does not have to think or make wonder of questions at what they are planning to do to him because he knows exactly what he would do if he was in their position and they in his.

He always told himself the things his peop… the things he did…that they were acts of war. Over and over in his mind for the past hour was that it was simply a case of orders he took and had to follow.

Orders given to him.

Lies to oneself can be the most horrid to create.

Things we cannot take back the most damming to survive.

Put both together and that combination can be a most damaging one to humanity.

The American soldiers who put him in here, in this metal box, they were tired when they caught him and locked him folded up and smashed into the box to give themselves a chance to rest. Every time they question him he sees in their eyes parts of their humanity drift away. He knows that look because he put that look into so many eyes. That look was in an innumerable set of eyes as they passed him into the camp to never walk back out.

The American soldiers got separated from their unit. He ran when a tank group attacked the camp where he served as an outer wall guard. He ran for what seemed to him to be no less, could not have been no less than 4 days when he saw the mighty, the told to be undefeatable fall.

A number of Germans believed in ‘Versilles Diktat’. This thought was one where Germans believed the peace terms dictated by the Allies were unjust at the end of WWI. Actions given excuses for actions unforgivable in nature.

In a way the Gods of old had been reborn to only be found out to be as false as paper.

Running into the forest, running in the snow, running from the horrors he had taken part in and no longer having the protection of bigger guns or stronger arms to defend his actions, to defend his thoughts. It was as if Angels from Heaven had come down to judge the quality of Hell and they would not let one escape from the filth they had created.

He came into contact with this lost group of soldiers while hiding out in the hull of what once was a farm house burned to ruins by war. Which side it was a part of did not matter. They walked in through the back kitchen door as he stashed his self away in a storage side door in a bathroom. All of the soldiers were talking about the very camp he once proudly walked outside the walls of. By members of the tank group who shut down the camp they had gotten all the information, they knew all of what had been happening there. The experiments, the mass burials, the rituals, all were known now. As he hide in fear from a crack in the storage area door he saw them walking, searching the house and they talked and he saw the anger which came off their lips with each word spoken about what they had been told.

The camp was part of The Final Solution. It contained twelve hutted structures containing many prisoners-Jews, trade unionists, gypsies, homosexuals, Beyond Humans before anyone knew what those were, Protestants, Catholics, and those subjected to “protective custody.”

At the time when the tanks had arrived not one prisoner remained living in the huts.

Now from within the farm toolbox they put him in he hears them as they are discussing ways of killing him. Pay back is shouted, justice is screamed, and tears are felt going down tired faces in the cold winter air as the soldiers discuss what they have seen and what others have faced.

Three of the five soldiers were very young. In appearance before they landed in the country they now find themselves in they would have looked not a day over 18 but now they had aged in the weeks they had spent fighting in this war. The other two soldiers were older and stood for the most part outside the house and would ever so often bark out an order to the younger ones so they must have been of higher rank. That at least was his thinking.

‘What is your rank?’ asked one of the soldiers.

‘I…I…’

‘Who cares what his rank is. I just want a name. I need a name so we can call out the demons you people are!’

‘My name is Deltaish Sermon.’

One of the older soldiers burst through the front door of the house. He rushed over to where Deltaish was sitting in the metal box and slapped him on the side of his head with the pistol that was still in his hand. Then he shoved Deltaish back into the box and shut the lid and began firing off rounds all around the box.

Deltaish just laid in the box feeling the blood slide down his face from the gun handle striking the side of his head. He was afraid to move an inch and could barely breathe with the fear filling up within his whole body.

For minutes that seemed like hours all Deltaish could hear outside of the box where footsteps shuffling around. Then a loud shouting voice rang out from the almost deadish quite,

‘Go ahead and kill him if you want to! I have killed probably more than a hundred men since touching ground from our jump in so one more will not haunt my dreams any more than the rest but he’s a prisoner and we are not an executioner squad!’

‘I can be,’ Was barely heard coming from outside the box.

The lid flew open and three pairs of hands grabbed Deltaish and pulled him from the box and began to drag him outside the house where they threw him down the front steps of the farmhouse.

He looked up from his position of looking down at the ground to see the three young soldiers staring down at him. He could also see back into the house where the older soldiers now where sitting on the metal box lighting cigarettes.

He turned away from them and gave a slight glance towards the forest that was nearby the farmhouse. He asked himself questions of whether he had the strength to run and if he did was that what they wanted, to shoot him as he ran?

Was it what he wanted?

 In a way he thought about it just to make it easier for them.

From behind he could hear footsteps slowly coming down the houses wooden front steps and then boots began kicking him. At first he tried to at least shield his face but after a few to the ribs he no longer had the strength to raise his arms and just laid there on the ground as they continued to kick him for over 20 minutes.

He was gasping for air from the beating when one of the soldiers spoke to the other two, ‘Pick him up. I want to get this over with because I’m starting to get sick from just being around him.’

Two of them picked Deltaish up by his arms. The force of them doing so cracked already damaged ribs. One of the young soldiers pulled his Army issued rifle from his shoulder where it was hanging by a overused thinned out strap and pushed it up to be right in front of this German soldiers face and aimed his sights right between the blue eyes of a soldier and another soldier pulled the trigger of his gun.

The death was in war.

(c)System * Publishing
brian c.williams

Coming May 31st 2015

Tin Universe Month #24

Featuring A FIRST SHOT FIRED, Part Six

and

May's Tin Universe Daily collected in one place

FREE

Start at the beginning,

Tin Universe Monthly #1: Stereo

The book that started it all.

It's FREE

Or the first Tin Universe Middle Grade Story,

Tin Universe Middle Grade Series #1: Mildred Betbeze

Tin Universe Daily #125

Tin Universe Daily #125

There are so many versions of some stories,

Especially when a prospective to the title of The Pledge is screwing with reality in Utah,

The Dream Trail,

The dream was crushed… it was broken, and within that dream were images on shards of glass; which were lining the floor in a pattern like a shattered window massacre.

In this place hot in a nothingness of white one spirit finds herself beaten and defeated.

This place is part of what the woman called her life and her home.

This is an ending.

Little images on the floor like television promos featuring moments from birth to death.

The trap was laid within the mind of a refugee who took his own life during the living of this dream. The in flesh person was pushed to that point from a bargain waged with a half demon called The Weapon. An innocent was sacrificed so a trap by forces of great power and malevolence could be sprung attacking a spirit who stood up for those in need of some sort of justice.

She can barely breathe. Moving at all is a struggle. Getting up to be situated on her knees took every once of strength she had remaining. Her gasps keeping her chest heaving in and out and her eyes cast down looking upon her own blood soaked hands caused each moment of life to sound out like perpetual discomfort.

Her clothes where shredded, blood soaked and damaged like her body. Once she traveled The Dream Trail famously dressed in what some would call her costume. She saw it as her uniform of service. She always wore these red boots that came from a dream about the old west and these black leather overalls she got from the dreams of a lustful Goth boy in Winnipeg. She was an image to behold if there ever was one to fit that phrase.

Out from within this shattered dream came the scavengers of The Dream Trail, The Burial. The peering white of the shattered dream was split into sharp cuts for them to pass through. They are a one-conciseness being who survive within thousands of bodies created from the leftover substances of forgotten dreams.

The Burial on average stand at around five feet in height with dark red skin, two legs, and they have one arm that reaches out from the side of their bodies. Their hands have huge claws with fingers that can grow at will to unimaginable lengths.

A flood of them came out from the broken cracks of The Dream Trail; which is where they live within to begin animalistic movements to circle her. She had not even noticed them when as one they stand over her dripping an oozing green liquid from their eyes.

She was still in another place as one of the numbers began to speak in an almost imploded speech volume, ‘We finally have you. After so many life times we get to feed on your spirit.’

Another of The Burial moves one of its long fingernails down her back though she does not move and it keeps cutting until it is cutting deep enough to touch her spin. It turns one of its fingernails chipping a little at one of the bones of her spin, ‘You stood up for the flesh ones against the spiders. That was foolish.’

A whisper comes from her mouth but it almost sounded more like it was coming from above, ‘I may… this da… but 8 more shall follow me… Mary’s hear my words.’

Fingers grow, fingernails reach out, and mouths open ready to eat.

She was called Mash. She once stood in front of a throne as a noble Sovereign from an ancient planet called Headlingsi, who led her armies to many victories and whose people died out so long ago that they are gone even to the memories of the oldest of creations races. She was not known to many to be The Dream Healer and one day will be forgotten in total but her life was with purpose and the future will tell that, in time…

*For those people who have commented asking for Tin Universe Daily to contain longer entries, that will start with today's release. I had a lot of things to do to start the year and so I wanted to start off really really small and simple. That's always been the plan since I wrote this series more than a year ago. - B.C.W.

(c)System * Publishing
brian c.williams

Coming May 31st 2015

Tin Universe Month #24

Featuring A FIRST SHOT FIRED, Part Six

and

May's Tin Universe Daily collected in one place

FREE

Start at the beginning,

Tin Universe Monthly #1: Stereo

The book that started it all.

It's FREE

Or the first Tin Universe Middle Grade Story,

Tin Universe Middle Grade Series #1: Mildred Betbeze