Writing, playing guitar, singing, making people laugh, freaking people out, sumo wrestling, naked sumo wrestling, (the last two were jokes) sports, video games, music, comedy, and last but not least; weird questions that have no answer. Questions like: "Do trees have birthdays? And, "How many M+M's are produced and consumed every year?"
Stuff like that
Kevin briefly shut his eyes as he stepped into the room. Upon opening them, a message was revealed to him. It was written in blood on Jenny’s wall in old-script-style. It read: “From Beyond the Grave, I shant be buckled!
-Yours truly, Jack.”
IN 1888, A DELUSIONAL ARTIST TRAVELED TO NEW ORLEANS WHERE HE LEARNED THE SECRET TO IMMORTALITY. TWO YEARS LATER, HE RETURNED TO HIS HOME IN WHITECHAPEL, ENGLAND, WHERE HE BECAME KNOWN AS "JACK THE RIPPER."
NOW, OVER 100 YEARS LATER, JACK HAS RETURNED, WITH THE HELP OF TWO UNWITTING TEENAGERS, BOBBY AND ABIGAIL CROWE.
BOBBY MUST FIND A WAY TO SEND JACK BACK TO THE REGION OF SHADOWS BEFORE HE MURDERS EVERYONE HE HAS EVER KNOWN.
....
WHITECHAPEL, ENGLAND.
31ST DAY OF AUGUST, 1888.
"YE, WHO READ ARE STILL AMONG THE LIVING, BUT I WHO WRITE SHALL HAVE LONG SINCE GONE MY WAY INTO THE REGION OF SHADOWS. FOR INDEED, STRANGE THINGS SHALL HAPPEN, AND MANY SECRET THINGS BE KNOWN, AND MANY CENTURIES SHALL PASS AWAY, E'RE THESE MEMORIALS BE SEEN OF MEN. AND, WHEN SEEN, THERE WILL BE SOME TO DISBELIEVE, AND SOME TO DOUBT, AND YET A FEW WHO WILL FIND MUCH TO PONDER UPON IN THE CHARACTERS HERE GRAVEN WITH A STYLUS OF IRON."
THE WORDS OF ONE OF THE GREATEST WRITERS THE WORLD HAS EVER SEEN, EDGAR ALLEN POE, HAD BEEN DANCING FRANTICALLY ABOUT HIS MIND FOR HOURS WITHOUT END. EVEN NOW, AS RED PAIN MET CANVAS, COMPLETING THE ILLUSION OF A NUDE WOMAN LYING IN A POOL OF BLOOD ON A DARK, COBBLESTONE STREET, THE WORDS ECHOED WITHIN HIS MIND.
HE HAD ALWAYS FELT THIS STRANGE CONNECTION WHEN READING EDGAR ALLEN POE, AS IF HE WERE GAZING BACK THROUGH TIME AT HIMSELF. BUT POE DIDN'T KNOW WHAT HE DID.
NO ONE DID.
A MANIACLE CACKLE ESCAPED FROM HIS THIN, WEATHER-BEATEN LIPS.
THEY WOULD KNOW SOON ENOUGH.
HE KNEW THAT HE WOULD NEVER BE JOINING POE IN HIS "REGION OF SHADOWS," HIS ESCAPE HAD ALREADY BEEN PLANNED. IT WAS FOOLPROOF. A PLAN LAID OUT SO PERFECTLY THAT EVEN GOD HIMSELF WOULD HAVE TO PONDER IT FOR DAYS WITHOUT COMPREHENSION.
STANDING FROM THE RICKETY WOODEN STOOL, HE BUTTONED HIS BLACK SHIRT UP TO THE COLLAR AND PUT THE MATCHING TOP HAT ATOP HIS THINNING, DARK HAIR. BLOWING OUT THE SILVER CANDLE ON THE DIRTY, OAK TABLE, HE GRABBED HIS SILVER-HANDLED CANE AND THREW ON HIS DARKEST CLOAK. THEN HE DISAPPEARD INTO THE STREETS OF WHITECHAPEL, BECOMING A WHISPER IN THE SHADOWS, A LEGEND THE LIKES OF WHICH HAD NEVER BEEN SEEN.
Alice in Chains, The Doors, The Beatles, Metallica, Pearl Jam, Guns and Roses, Zepplin, Jimmy Hendrix. That just about rounds off my favorites. There's a million bands out there that are good, but in my opinion, these guys are the greatest of all time.
Honorable mention: Glenn Danzig, Ozzy, and King Diamond. And yes, I'm kissing someone's ass here. You know who you are :)
Movies
Bad Boys, Braveheart, The Ring, Lord of the Rings, Armageddon, What dreams may come, Tombstone, Son in Law, Excalibur, From Dusk to Dawn, The Alamo, Liar Liar, Saving Private Ryan, The Departed, Beerfest, All of the Lethal Weapon Movies, 300, Shadow of the Ripper...never heard of it? Then click on the book link and go order it, so that I can sell my screenplay and you can watch it, lol!
Television
.. Myspace Layouts ..
WHAT MANNER OF A DREAM IS THIS? WILLIAM BRADFORD THOUGHT AS HE LAY STILL IN A SHROUD OF DARKNESS. THE BLACK SHADOW THAT HUNG OVER HIM LEFT HIM NO ROOM FOR VISION; IN FACT, HE THOUGHT FOR A MOMENT THAT HE MAY BE BLIND. AS HE LAY TRYING TO GRASP HIS SURROUNDINGS, A COLD CHILL SWEPT THROUGH THE DARKNESS AND SLITHERED THROUGH HIS VEINS. HE WOULD HAVE SHIVERED IF HE COULD HAVE, BUT HE WAS TAKEN ABACK BY THE SUDDEN REALIZATION THAT HE COULD NOT FEEL THE BLOOD THAT SHOULD BE PUSHING THROUGH THOSE SAME VESSELS AT THIS MOMENT. THAT KNOWLEDGE SHOULD HAVE SENT HIS HEART LEAPING THROUGH HIS CHEST. INSTEAD CAME ONE SIMPLE QUESTION THAT HE VOICED ALOUD TO NO ONE.
"WHERE AM I?"
AS THE WORDS LEFT HIS LIPS, HE REALIZED THAT NO BREATH HAD ESCAPED FROM HIS LUNGS WITH THEM.
"YOU ARE ONLY DREAMING," WILLIAM TOLD HIMSELF. BUT AS HE TRIED TO FORCE HIMSELF AWAKE, A SOUND ECHOED OVER HIS HEAD.
SHWOOP-FWUGH. SHWOOP-FWUGH. SHWOOP-FWUGH.
WILLIAM RECOGNIZED THE CHORUS PLAYING ABOVE HIM-OR AT LEAST, HE KNEW HE SHOULD RECOGNIZE IT. HE HAD HEARD THIS SOUND BEFORE; HE KNEW THAT HE HAD, BUT HE COULD NOT REMEMBER WHERE, OR EVEN WHEN.
THE SOFT RAIN OF UNIDENTIFIED NOISE CONTINUED ABOVE WILLIAM AS HE FRANTICALLY BEGAN TO SEARCH HIS MIND FOR ANSWERS. "WHERE AM I? WHAT IS GOING ON? WHO AM I?" AS THAT LAST THOUGHT RANG OUT, WILLIAM'S BODY FORCED ITSELF UPWARDS. THICK WOOD RESISTED IT AFTER A FEW INCHES, AND THE SOUND OF A MAN'S VOICE CAME THROUGH AS WILLIAM SLUMPED BACK ONTO THE PILLOW THAT HE REALIZED HAD NOW BEEN PROPPING UP HIS HEAD.
"WHAT THE HELL," THE MAN'S VOICE SHOUTED. WILLIAM COULD BARELY HEAR IT. IT SOUNDED LIKE SOMEONE SHOUTING FROM UPSTAIRS IN HIS MANSION.
MANSION? WHAT MANSION?
WILLIAM CUT HIS MIND OFF BEFORE IT HAD TIME TO PRODUCE MORE UNANSWERABLE QUESTIONS. INSTEAD, HIS HANDS REACHED OUT TO HIS SIDES AND ABOVE HIM, FEEDING HIM THE NECCESSARY INFORMATION ABOUT HIS SURROUNDINGS. HE WAS ENCASED IN THICK WOOD, AND IT DID NOT TAKE HIS MIND LONG TO DEDUCE THE MEASUREMENTS.
HE WAS IN A COFFIN.
"HE'S NOT DEAD!" WILLAM HEARD THE MUFFLED VOICE SHOUT OUT FROM ABOVE. AS THE VOICE SHOUTED, A STRANGE-BUT SOMEHOW FAMILIAR PAIN-SHOT THROUGH HIS ABDOMEN. IT FILLED HIS BODY WITH AN URGENT NEED TO ESCAPE THIS TRAP, TO SLAY THOSE WHO HAD SET IT, TO TASTE THEIR BLOOD AS IT POURED FROM THEIR WOUNDS.
WHO AM I?
WILLIAM'S THOUGHTS ESCAPED HIM, REPLACE BY A RAGE THAT HE COULD NOT REMEMBER, YET SOMEHOW COULD NOT FORGET. HIS FISTS BALLED INTO FLESHY HAMMERS AND HE BEGAN TO POUND UPON THE WOODEN CRYPT ABOVE HIM, SMASHING IT TO PIECES AS HIS RAGE AND CONFUSION GREW. HE HEARD THE SHOUTING OF MEN AS THE PIECES OF THE COFFIN BROKE FREE FROM EACH OTHER. THIN RAYS OF THE SETTING SUN ABOVE SWEPT THROUGH THE CRACKS IN THE COFFIN, BURNING HIS EXPOSED FLESH AS HIS WILL TO ESCAPE ESCALATED INTO A PROFOUND REVELATION. IF HE FAILED TO FREE HIMSELF SOON, THE SETTING SUN WOULD BURN HIM TO CINDERS.
WILLIAM DIDN'T HAVE TIME TO WONDER WHERE THAT STRANGE THOUGHT CAME FROM, BUT HE RECOGNIZED IT INSTINCTIVELY AS TRUTH, AND HIS STRENGTH ROSE TO NEW HEIGHTS. HE COULD HEAR MORE MEN NOW, THEIR VOICES SHOUTING WARNINGS TO EACH OTHER AS THE FINAL REMNANTS OF HIS RESTING PLACE BROKE AWAY. WILLIAM LOOKED UP, BUT THE BLOOD-RED SUN IN THE BACKGROUND CAUSED HIM TO SHIELD HIS EYES. THE TOP OF HIS HAND BEGAN TO SMOKE AS HE DID, AND HE SHOUTED SOMETHING OUT IN HIS AGONY. HE WAS NOT SURE OF WHAT THE WORDS MEANT, HE COULDN'T EVEN SAY FOR CERTAIN WHAT LANGUAGE IT WAS THAT HE HAD SPOKEN, BUT IT CAUSED A GASP TO ECHO OUT FROM THE MEN THAT HAD ALONGSIDE THE GRAVE.
"SAVE THE KING!" ONE OF THE MEN CRIED OUT. WILLIAM THOUGHT THAT HE RECOGNIZED THE VOICE, BUT SOMEHOW THE CONNECTION IN HIS MEMORY WOULD NOT FULLY HOLD, AND THE THOUGHT FADED.
FINALLY, THE SETTING SUN DISAPPEARED BEHIND A SET OF THICK, GRAY CLOUDS, AND THE BURNING SENSATION THAT HAD NEARLY ENCOMPASSED HIS ENTIRE FRAME DISSIPATED.
AFTER A FEW BLINKS OF HIS EYES, WILLIAM LOOKED UP FROM THE PILE OF DIRT. A DOZEN MEN STOOD ALONG THE EDGE OF THE GRAVE, EACH OF THEM WEARING A SET OF BRONZE PLATE MAIL THAT HAD BEEN STAINED TO BLACK. A MASSIVE RED BAT WAS EMBLAZONED ACROSS EACH OF THIER CHESTS, ITS WINGS SPANNING FROM ONE SHOULDER TO THE OTHER AND ITS BODY DOWN TO THEIR BELLIES. WILLIAM KNEW THIS SYMBOL, BUT AGAIN HIS MEMORY FAILED HIM.
"WHO AM I?" WILLIAM ASKED SLOWLY. THE DEPTH OF HIS VOICE SENT SHIVERS DOWN THE BACKS OF THE MEN WHO GATHERED ABOVE HIM, WILLIAM SENSED. ALL EXCEPT FOR ONE, A TALL MAN WITH A THICK BEARD AND EYES THAT LOOKED TO HAVE BEEN TEMPERED FROM STEEL. AS WILLIAM LOOKED TO THE MAN AND FELT HIS URGENCY TO ESCAPE FROM THIS PLACE SUBSIDE, THE MAN JUMPED DOWN INTO THE PIT WITH HIM, UNHINDERED BY THE BULKY ARMOR HE WORE.
"YOU ARE WILLIAM, KING OF THE DAMNED," THE MAN BEGAN AS HE DROPPED TO ONE KNEE IN FRONT OF WILLIAM, WHO EYED HIM CAUTIOUSLY. THERE WAS SOMETHING STRANGE ABOUT THE MAN, HIS EYES SEEMED LIFELESS, LIKE SOMETHING HAD BEEN STRIPPED FROM INSIDE HIM. PERHAPS HIS SOUL?
WILLIAM LOOKED CLOSER AT THE MAN WHO KNELT BEFORE HIM, THEN UP TO THE STILL UNEASY MEN WHO HELD THIER GROUND ABOVE. THIER SKIN WAS PALED. THAT WAS IT. THAT WAS WHAT WAS WRONG WITH THEM. THE PALENESS WAS NOT FROM A MERE LACK OF SUNLIGHT, EITHER. IT WAS AS IF THEY HAD NEVER BEEN EXPOSED TO IT AT ALL.
"WHO ARE YOU?" WILLIAM BREATHED, SO TO SPEAK.
"WE ARE YOUR SERVANTS, MY LIEGE," THE KNEELING MAN SAID. "HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN US SO SOON?"
WILLIAM GAZED AT THE MAN WITH MORBID CURIOSITY. THERE WAS SOMETHING FAMILIAR ABOUT HIM, ABOUT ALL OF THIS, BUT TRY AS HE MIGHT, NO ANSWER WAS FORTHCOMING.
X-files...huge fan of it! I can't wait for the new movie!
Family Guy, Aqua teen hunger force, Venture Brothers, Robot Chicken.
Ghosthunters.
Anything else mystical or historical.
"YOUR SKINS, THEY ARE PALE AS BONE," WILLIAM SAID. "WHY IS THIS?"
THE KNEELING MAN'S STARE TURNED TO WORRY AS HE GAZED AT WILLIAM. WILLIAM COULD TELL THAT IT WAS REALLY A LOOK OF CONFUSION, COUPLED WITH WORRY, BUT THAT HELD NO CREDENCE WITH HIM. THE MAN TURNED HIS STARE TO THE MEN SURROUNDING THEM, AS IF HE WERE NOW SEARCHING FOR ANSWERS OF HIS OWN. FINDING BLANK STARES, HE TURNED BACK TO WILLIAM.
"MY LIEGE, WE HAVE BEEN LIKE THIS SINCE THE DAY DEATH TOOK US...SINCE THE DAY...YOU, TOOK US."
WILLIAM RAN HIS HAND UP TO HIS CHIN. WHAT MANNER OF A DREAM IS THIS? HE THOUGHT AGAIN.
"THIS IS NO MERE DREAM, MY LIEGE," THE KNEELING MAN ANSWERED. WILLIAM LOCKED EYES WITH THE BEARDED MAN. HOW DID HE KNOW WHAT I WAS THINKING?
"IT IS MY GIFT, MY LIEGE. IT IS THE POWER THAT YOU BESTOWED UPON ME." THE MANS STURDY FACE TOOK ON A MORE DESPERATE LOOK AND HIS VOICE MATCHED IT AS HE CONTINUED.
"DO YOU NOT EVEN REMEMBER ME?"
WILLIAM STUDIED THE MAN, TRYING DESPERATELY TO SHAKE LOOSE SOME MEMORY FROM HIS MIND, ANYTHING, BUT IT WAS A FUTILE EFFORT.
"WHAT IS YOUR NAME?" WILLIAM ASKED.
THE BEARDED MANS EYES SUNK TO THE GROUND, AND HE ANSWERED WITH A HEAVY SIGH. "MY MORTAL NAME WAS JOSHUA...BUT YOU USED TO CALL ME...BROTHER."
Books
..........
I really have been slacking with my reading...but here's the list...and it is very short. "By the Light of the Moon-Dean Koontz, Anything by Poe. The Wheel of Time series, if you dig fantasy books, which I do. "The Shining"
And that's all for now.
Heroes
My grandfather, Mahlon Bradford (R.I.P.) Ozzie Newsome, Robin Williams, Mel Gibson, and anyone who can pick themselves up after a tragedy. I forgot Edgar Allan Poe...what the hell's wrong with me?
I am a hopeless romantic. I believe that my beliefs have died hundreds, if not thousands of years ago. I believe that people have started to suppress that inner spark that makes us come alive. I intend to reignite that spark, if it takes my whole life.
If I have taken interest in you, it's because I see a beauty that some may have missed. If I have not seemed to have taken an interest, give me time, for all things are full of beauty, but sometimes it is overlooked.
Trust your heart, trust yourself, and trust your dreams, for these are the things that make us unique.
Who I'd like to meet: I'd like to meet, Miss Amanda Hornsby. She inspires me more than she knows.
