Frizbeen

Iganon An unedited and incomplete project, cast aside to the forgotten folders of the hard drive. The Daily Friz Prologue             There is something not quite right in the air this morning. All the men freshly waking to dew covered weapons placed about their tattered tents. This is the morning of the last great battle, where all hope of victory is in the hands of the gnomes and their monster. The gnome’s great cargo anchored just off shore. Held in the largest ship ever commissioned by his lordship, that thing awaits to be our savior from the very first trumpet blast. There is something not quite right about all of this. I can feel it as though the morning fog is offering us one last chance to forsake this battle and our dealings with the creature.             “General, the men are fed and armed.” Captain Nairb is an ok lad. His position forced upon him too e...

A Captive Mind An unedited and incomplete project, cast aside to the forgotten folders of the hard drive. The Daily Friz              Derrick awoke to the sound of slowly cracking wood somewhere in the downstairs of his home. Moving about in his bed, in a manner as to not wake his wife Laura, Derrick reached for his thin framed glasses that were neatly placed next to him by his alarm clock. “Just a little after four in the morning.” He thought to himself glancing at the clocks red glow. His two small daughters Susan, 12 and Anna, 9 shared a room down the hall from Laura and his own bedroom. Derrick began to recline back in bed when he heard the noise again, instantly jolting him back to the cause of his original wakefulness.             As he slid out of the bed, so smoothly as if he were a shadow slipping away from the sun rise, there came the soft spoken voice of hi...