Prelude to a Hero (Chronicles of a Hero 1) Read online

Wendell never saw it coming. The shock wave pummeled him in the chest, shoving him through the lounge chair. Defensively, he wrapped both arms around his head and ducked, failing to protect his ears from the shrieking that he thought would leave him deaf or the intense green flash that left him seeing spots. Either way, he was definitely shielding his face from the dirt and grass that flew up and across the yard.

  Eyes clenched, he waited for the pelting debris to stop, the small objects stung his exposed arms, plinking off the metal frame of the chair. He felt a few small rocks ricochet off his back and neck and then all was still.

  The knots in his gut relaxed and he loosened the grip around his head. WHAT WAS THAT!?? Cautiously opening his eyes, he found knees in his face and feet in the air. His mind was reeling with possibilities as he twisted, turned and stretched to see around his legs. The force of that blast pushed me right through the chair. No wonder I fell over. Ugh! I can’t see anything!

  His face was pressed against the rough concrete and he couldn’t move without scraping off skin. Twisted like a pretzel, he struggled to untangle his legs. Ha! He was getting some leverage. Pausing to take a breath, Wendell lost his balance and fell over again. He sighed.

  In that moment of silence there was rustling in the bushes on the far side of the yard. Adrenalin flooded his pulsing veins and he didn’t feel the scraping and tearing when he jerked his limbs loose to jump to his feet.

  Stumbling back, Wendell blinked hard. The bush shook violently, losing a fist full of leaves. Bewildered, he reached up and felt around his head. Hmm. No bumps. Must have been out in the sun too long. Blinking hard again, Yeah. “Hehe.” Just turn and walk away.

  But he didn’t. He looked. And he wished he hadn’t. Wendell froze. The bush was definitely shaking in sporadic eruptions. While weighing his options, (check it out or run screaming) another sound grew out of the bush. Grunting. Sharp bursts at first and then deep, cursing, and pissed off.

  Run. Wendell’s stomach lurched into his throat. Run. Fear. Run! His mind was morbidly curious, intrigued even, Run!! but every nerve recoiled. Maybe I should…run!?!

  With eyes riveted, he took a step back. Maybe it’s just a bear. Or a really large raccoon.

  Maybe I should go help it out…Yeah. He brushed at his jeans and t-shirt, hoping he looked calm, collected.

  Then again, it could have rabies or something. He took another step backward. Better to be safe than sorry.

  “What a load of crap!” the bush jerked.

  Wendell froze again, this time mid-step, jaw dropping to the ground. The bush is talking. THE BUSH IS TALKING! His eyes darted from side to side. There wasn’t anyone here. He took his index finger and wriggled it inside his ear. He knew there wasn’t anyone here. I must have hit my head really hard.

  Ah-ha! This has to be a joke. Careful not to move too much, he looked around the yard. Someone was playing a prank on him. But there was no sign of anyone else. No hidden cords or speakers, no cameras peeking around the corner of the house. Dang!

  Then the bush exploded, violently giving birth to a green, white, and purple mass. It hit the dirt, rolling to a pair of enormous, hairy, green, bare feet. It was short. Really short—like, not even up to Wendell’s waist short and it looked like a goblin. An ugly brownish-green, poop colored creature with a lumpy head, thick arms that hung to the ground and abnormally huge hands and feet that were carpeted with black hair.

  It was almost naked, too, wearing purple polka-dotted boxer shorts that were obviously too big and nothing else. The smashed cigar butt in its mouth was quickly spat on the ground.

  Unsatisfied with glaring and muttering vile insults at the plant that had bound him, it shuffled up to the roots and gave it a swift, disgruntled kick.

  Then he turned those bulging, baseball-sized eyes mapped by intense red veins and overshadowed by bushy tufts of eyebrow, on Wendell. The stare was so menacing, so penetrating, Wendell didn’t dare to look away. So, they stood there staring at each other for one endless moment as Wendell’s heart stopped.

  “WHAT!?!” it snapped, looking rather irritated.

  Once again, Wendell was paralyzed. No breathing, no moving, except his eyes that grew wide as ping pong balls and a mouth gaping so big that a train could pass through. Was it talking to me?

  Wendell wanted to move. I should run. He told his legs to run, but it didn’t work. All he could do was stare while the scary creature took a step closer.

  “EEEEAAAAARRRRGGGGHHH!”

  Screaming!? Who is screaming? Wendell’s whole body jolted at the sound, arms and hands shooting out from his sides, head whipping all around. Where is it coming from? It’s awful—like a scared girl.

  “E-E-E-E-EEEEAAR…”

  The scream trailed off and red hot humiliation set in. It’s me! Ugh! His heart was going to pound its way out of his chest and Wendell just wanted to hide.

  The goblin stopped. Scowling, he yelled to the skies with his hands raised, “SERIOUSLY??!”

  Squinting, he gave Wendell a critical once-over. “Whoa! Now, that’s what I call a twisted piece of work,” it muttered, pity on its face. “Big, bugged out eyes, mouth hanging open—hollers like the women-folk and so…ugly and scrawny!”

  As the creature came closer and closer, Wendell could smell rancid ashtrays and rotten fish. “Ughhh!” he flinched. Repulsed, he staggered back and slapped a hand over his nose. It was just shocking enough to trigger the ‘Wendellizer’, Wendell’s alter ego for when times got hard. Like now.

  Come on, Wendell. Pull your crap together! This could be it! Your moment. The one that changes your life…and the world! Wendell steadied himself with a deep breath and gulped hard.

  Drawing from his extensive alien knowledge, he cleared his throat and raised his right hand, spreading his middle fingers in the Vulcan gesture of peace.

  “Welcome to Earth,” Wendell squeaked with a tight toothy grin. “Live long and prosper.”

  The goblins mouth slowly stretched across its face, revealing a huge, intimidating maw of sharp, yellow teeth. Then, it raised its right hand, imitating Wendell’s Vulcan gesture with its four digits. “We have chosen you as the one and only perfect human specimen.”

  I knew it! Wendell trembled, I knew there was intelligent life out there!! YES!!

  The wide, yellow grin remained unnervingly frozen on the aliens face. “Long have we awaited this opportunity, oh Great One. I have come to take you back.”

  NO!! Suddenly, reason set in and Wendell’s feet were unglued. His arms flapped wildly as he lunged forward, sprinting for the back door. He didn’t know how the green thing got here, and frankly—Wendell didn’t care.

  The creature watched for a moment before shaking its head and placing a hand on its forehead. “Why do they always hafta run? Get BACK here!” it growled.

  Before Wendell knew he was being yelled at, the thing had grabbed both his legs and tackled him to the ground. Its hands twisted in Wendell’s shirt, flipping him over and then climbed onto Wendell’s chest. Knocking Wendell’s flailing arms to the side it pinned them with its massive feet.

  It leaned in closer until their noses touched. “Look here, bub, I’ve come an awfully long way to find ya. I’m tired, very hungry and I wanna get home. So…if you wouldn’t mind…shut yer face and hold still!”

  Wendell was suffocating under its shocking weight…and stench. Its hot, rancid breath was probably curling his nose hairs. Wendell’s world was starting to spin like that ride at the carnival that always makes you throw up. He wanted off.

  Did it say very hungry? His body convulsed as he tried to breathe. The thought of being a main course at some aliens table made him sick to his stomach.

  The creature reached forward, grabbed Wendell by the back of the neck and grinned extra wide.

  “Clench yer teeth and hold on tight, kid,…we ain’t goin’ ta Oz.”

  BAMPH!

  CHAPTER 3

  REALITY

  Life has a complex plan that involves you and
me.

  While we dream, work and organize, life makes its own tweaks—and many times circumstances might not turn out as we hoped.

  But life is not the enemy. It’s not against us. Life provides opportunities for growth and strength of character.

  Stop fighting against your greatest ally.