Rising Star

“The infant continued to sleep peacefully wrapped in the bundle of cloth, unaware of the tragedy that has occurred around it and the one occurring presently.”

A small chuckles runs through the night as it was followed by the sound of iron hinges scrapping together playing in uncomfortable harmony of metal scrapping against a stone floor.

“It truly was an amusing sight you have shown me, coming here knowing that there would only be one way you could attain my help. “

A pause.

“Very well.

The conditions are met and I have been thoroughly entertained, but know this.

You were not the main actor of this tragedy. That role has gone to our poor maiden here who put on such a heartwarming show.

Rarely will you find such a strong woman in this place. If nothing you are a lucky man, yet it seems that luck of yours could only get you this far.”

A man walks through the gate. Not entering but exiting.

A man in black, too well dressed for this hour of the day, with a smile on his face as if he’d been told something mildly amusing, yet overlooked everything with eyes that were cold and uncaring as pitch-black chalk.

“It was truly amazing to see this woman’s conviction was strong enough to move my gatekeeper.

Even when it never developed sentience after these numerous decades. Yet through the pleas of one woman.

I ponder, just what drove her so.”

The man walks towards the child and lightly picks it up using one hand as if he was plucking a fruit.

“Well, now it seems that as all other actors have exited the stage, the role of lead transfers to you.

Was this what you wished for, that in itself may be crueler a fate than ending life ignorant and uninvolved.”

The man takes the child through the gate and orders the stone soldier.

“Take the scraps inside, feed this one to the [ ] and bury these two in the garden.

The child should at least have a place to pay respect.

Now that I think of it I should also assign you as its new guardian. It is only because of this child that you are now awake.

How troublesome, now I need to gather the materials for a new gatekeeper. Busy, busy.”

The man disappears into the house passed the gate, lamenting to himself as the stone soldier carried out his orders.

For the first time since its creation the stone soldier was giving a task other than guarding the gate. The soldier became confused at this sudden change in its purpose, and even more so at that confusion. It had never need to think of its own actions before now but these thoughts did not hinder the soldier from carrying out its tasks.

The stone soldier would no longer stand in front of the old red wooden gate.


It has stood guarding the gate since long ago.

It has stood there, unmoving and unwavering as guarding the gate was its only purpose.

It was created for the sole purpose of guarding the gate and nothing more.

It was given the eerie sturdiness to stand motionlessly before the gate and the strength to prevent any from passing.

Although it was allowed the ability to understand orders, it only took them from one man.

It was given much but the ability to feel was not needed.

To feel pain.

To feel fear.

To feel compassion.

For hundreds of years it has guarded this gate as the stone soldier.

Stone does not need rest.

Stone does not need sleep.

Stone does not need food.

Stone has no need or wants as stone is not alive.

The soldier’s only purpose is to guard the gate.

Even as the man desperately pounds at it, trying to pry open the gate, it does not budge and neither does the gate. He stands unmoving as the man is slain.

The stone soldier does not feel sadness at their deaths or guilt for doing nothing to help.

The soldier was not made to be able to feel such things or help others.

The soldier can only stand and guard the gate.

The pursuer attacks the women, and kicks her lifeless body to the side. A bundle of cloth is dislodged from the women arms.

A child appears from the bundle. The child was young, still unable to walk or live on its own. It slept peacefully in the cloth that protected it from the chill of the cold stone ground.

As the pursuer approaches the infant, the mother tries with the last of her strength to protect it. She crawls on the ground toward the child slowly inching towards it.

The pursuer kicks her away, towards the feet of the stone soldier. She has lost too much blood and has no more strength in her body. Facing towards the sky she moves her eyes around desperately looking, searching for help.

She sees nothing and no one that can help her and the child. The woman loses hope and despair paints her face. Tears well up in her eyes as there is no more she can do for herself or the child. There is no person near that could help her, no one looking her way that could come to their aide.

Only the stone soldier standing, guarding the gate was there. Unmoving the soldier stood, watching the tragedy unfold in before it.

The woman cried in despair.

At the world that would not help her and at the stone soldier that only stood there.

She cried, tears clouding her vision, as pain coursed through her body with every weak sob she uttered.

She cried, yet she noticed.

Through her hazy, tear soaked eyes, she had noticed.

The stone soldier had moved.

Its eyes had moved.

It was now looking at her.

She did not know if it was just a trick of her mind or if its eyes only seemed to be looking down but she felt certain, she desperately prayed, its eyes had.

She pleaded, with all the force she could muster.

Even as blood drowned her lungs and filled her throat.

Even if no words could be uttered she pleaded.

With every fathom of her body she pleaded.

With her eyes she pleaded to the stone soldier to save the child.

The soldier moved, not of the will of its own but of the emotion it saw. Of what it witnessed it itself could not understand, but it moved.

For the first time it moved not to guard the gate.

It moved for a woman it did not know to protect an infant not connected to it or the one it calls master.

The soldier moved.

The pursuer is dumbfounded.

The pursuer had been about to kill the infant on the ground but was stopped by a shock running through the pursuer’s body. A hand had appeared through the pursuer’s chest. Not the hand of flesh and blood but a hand of cold hard stone. He fell forward recognizing his death in the same way the man he slew before him did. In the same way the rest of the pursuers were about to.

The infant continued to sleep peacefully wrapped in the bundle of cloth, unaware of the tragedy that has occurred around it and the one occurring presently.


[Beginning of a series with content including mild (maybe later graphic) violence]


In front of an old red wooden gate a soldier stands.

A young couple runs through the street on a night devoid of people. They ran, fleeing from the pursuers who were inching closer to them with every step.

The couple approaches a gate guarded by a soldier. They try to push the soldier away but he would not budge. They try again but still the soldier silently blocked the way. Desperate, the man hits the soldier, but the soldier does not feel the man’s frantic blows. Again and again he pounds his fist into the soldier’s body but the soldier does not flinch from the impact. The soldier’s expression was a mask of perpetual immobility as he continues to stand, guarding the gate. Only this soldier could open the gate and only one person could order the soldier to open it.

The couple try to find another path but their pursuers have caught up. The couple have nowhere to go, trapped between their pursuers and the soldier. The man stands in front of the woman, shielding her behind his back from those in front of him. He knows what will happen now, he is powerless to stop it, yet he turns towards the woman and musters a reassuring smile. A false yet genuine smile that could do no more than give a small semblance of reassurance to the person it was direct at.

Blood tickles down the man’s mouth, a hole opens up in his chest. The man falls down, eyes wide open, with an expression still unaware. The woman screams in place of the man.

In anguish.

In fear.

She falls to her knees and presses her back against the soldier’s legs.

The pursuers approach her.



They approach to kill the woman as they did the man. The woman huddles her body closer to the soldier, her robe wrapped tightly around her body. One of the pursuers moves forward, the pursuer pays no head to the soldier guarding the gate. The pursuer knows the soldier would do nothing to stop it. The pursuer lifts up the same weapon used to kill the man and brings it down decisively. It opens a deep gash on the woman’s back, splashing her crimson blood onto the stone ground that lies before red gate.

The pursuer kicks the woman, whirling the woman’s limp and dying body around. The woman breath out a small cry of pain, as the bundle in her arms is separated from her embrace. The small bundle held within its many layers of white and dirt-brown cloth hid a baby. An infant child no more than a year old, sleeping peacefully in the bundle of cloth, ignorant of the happenings around it and the dangers that approach. The pursuer strides towards the child the same way the pursuer approached the woman.



With purpose, raises the weapon.

Without mercy, brings it down.

A wet splash was heard.

And so the Blob was Born

Hi, I’m a avid fan of stories in all forms including books, movies, tv shows, cartoons, anime, manga, web novels, light novels, etc (I’ll list more when I think of them). Wanted to try creating a site where I can create original short stories and series so I’ll be posting them here for all to see. Feel free to comment and critique. (Do your worst, I may cry easily but know that none of you will be able to see it over the internet.)