The Sentinel of Green Leaf and Wyatt

The Sentinel of Green Leaf and Wyatt

You don’t see many children walking to school these days. Maybe it is because of the news media that seems to be laser focused on keeping us all locked behind closed and barred doors, scaring the living shit out of us on a 24 hour cycle. We’re afraid of each other, our food, our water our air. There doesn’t seem to be anything that does not hold some form of negative effect when seen, heard, smelled, tasted or even come into close proximity of. The world is a dangerous and horrible place, we should all just lock ourselves in our comfortable, connected, technologically advanced homes and fill them with endless piles of useless and unneeded convenience items. Why would you walk outside and say hi to your neighbor when you can easily wish them happy birthday on your favorite social media platform. You’ll even get the reminder if you’re too inconvenienced by having to remember the date or if your less than interested but want to appear friendly. We live in a world of trapdoor spiders waiting to pounce on unsuspecting innocents who dare only to feel the sun on their face and the wind in their hair. Read more...
By: David Pitzel Oct. 31, 2017, 9:09 a.m.
Let Old Things Lie

Let Old Things Lie

Danny never cried out, it was too fast, too unexpected, he never believed in what we were doing. He never believed the words as I read them from those medical files, even though there was no denying that what we were doing and what we were seeing was unmistakably real. I believed, and I knew we should have stopped. I can tell myself it was his fault for convincing me to go inside, or for busting in that window, but I know I was to blame. I should have made him leave. We should never have been there. Read more...
By: David Pitzel June 5, 2017, 12:34 p.m.
The Road Less Traveled Part 4

The Road Less Traveled Part 4

Alto awoke in the tiny cell like room; it was pitch black except for the sliver of light peeking in from the crack at the bottom of the door. It was impossible to tell the time in these caves. Standing and pulling the dangling chain for the light he looked at his watch. It was six am. He was glad he hadn't overslept; today was the day they would take the trip with the shipment back to the states. He had to be on his game today. Everything needed to go as planned, Yassin still hadn't told him how the drugs got from here to the states but he assured him it was no problem. Everything about the operation from the growing to production was very efficient. There was nothing Alto saw that gave him pause with the exception of a group of men who seemed to be a third party in this endeavor. Yassin assured him they were nothing to worry about saying they were a key component in the transportation of the drugs. Alto of course wanted to speak with them but was told that he would be able to before they left. This troubled him, these men who were not Taliban and not simple villagers were a liability. They knew how the drugs got to America and apparently were instrumental in the process, but where did their loyalties lie. If they were not Taliban then they had no reason to follow Yassin's orders, if they were not part of the village they had no reason to follow the Taliban's orders. This was going to be a problem. Once they shut down the supply chain states side there was no telling what kind of blowback would come from these men. He needed to find out more about them but there was no time. In a few short hours they would be leaving, cutting it close was an understatement. Read more...
By: David Pitzel March 26, 2017, midnight
The Road Less Traveled Part 3

The Road Less Traveled Part 3

The beat up white SUV barrelled down the road. It was half paved and half covered in dirt and sand, a trail of dust rose behind them as they drove, drifting off into the parched endlessness of the Afghan desert. In all directions was a vast expanse of tans and browns ending in dark jagged peaks in the distance. The SUV bounced on the barely maintained road, occasionally slowing to navigate entire sections of broken asphalt torn up by explosions from IEDs and missile strikes. It was a forsaken land of dead and dying vegetation, cruel heat and scarce water, compounded now by the wreckage from years of constant war. Oceans of sand in all directions, once they were at the compound there would be no running away if something went bad. Miles and miles of rocky desert that appeared the same in all directions. Himee looked out the window wondering if this would be the place he would die. It seemed likely but he wasn’t about to go easily. Stay cool, follow Alto’s lead and keep his mouth shut, that was what would get him through this op. That and the heater he had tucked in his belt. It was hard to believe anyone lived out here, much less an entire farm of poppies. He stared off at the horizon trying to determine the cardinal direction, East. He looked at the cheap gas station compass stuck to the dash, he was right. Read more...
By: David Pitzel March 6, 2017, midnight
The Road Less Traveled Part 2

The Road Less Traveled Part 2

Nina Polzin, stood naked in front of the streaked hotel mirror. Her hair dripping on the bathroom floor revealing the piss poor cleaning job the maid service had done. She traced the outline of a star, which was drawn on her skin. She wanted to rip it off, cut it from her, those bastards. Now she was pretending to be one of them. This had better turn up Whitelace. These men she was with, she worried they wouldn’t make it back. Too many different objectives here, this was gonna be a cluster fuck. She’d make it out. She always made it out. The only difference this time was that she was going off book. If the Company finds out they’ll kill her themselves, there really was no good way for this to go. Read more...
By: David Pitzel Feb. 5, 2017, midnight
The Road Less Traveled Part 1

The Road Less Traveled Part 1

Adrian Markov entered the large warehouse, just off San Fernando Rd. in Sun Valley. Surrounded by industrial buildings, storage facilities, auto shops and junkyards, it was the perfect place for a meeting of this sort. Nobody around here is gonna ask questions, nobody around here is gonna care at all. He felt as if he was a bit over dressed. Jeans and a blazer, around here, he looked like a fucking cop and that was the last thing he wanted to be made as. He hurried into the metal door of the building trying not to have too many eyes on him. It smelled of oil and old rust inside. Must have been a machine shop at one time. The place was large, with a huge roll door just to the right of the smaller door he entered. Aerospace maybe, whatever it was it was all gone now, there was nothing in the entire huge space except for a table and six chairs directly in the center, and a rolling white board in front of that. A man stood at the white board putting up photos and writing names. There was another man, sitting about ten or more feet away from the table. He was dressed in an all black suite, white shirt and a thin red tie. Probably secret service, he'd never seen him before, Adrian was sure he didn't work for "The Company". Read more...
By: David Pitzel Jan. 29, 2017, midnight
Yaquina Head Light Part 2

Yaquina Head Light Part 2

Clutching the ring of keys Kent provided, Sam ascended the creaking, slippery wooden stairway leading up the cliff face to the lighthouse. He could see the coming storm as it approached. It was as dark and brooding as his mood and moving in fast. Sam knew he needed to finish his search of the lighthouse quickly. Kent wouldn’t be able to keep the boat against the dock long before the fear of being battered against the rocks would demand that he get out of there. Lashed by the rain, wet, and legs aching from the seemingly endless climb of the cliff stairs, Sam felt a sense of dread. The gray and black boiling sky and the crashing of ever intensifying waves gave the feeling of insurmountable bleakness. He crested the stairs and there it was before him, stark white against the gray sky, reaching up like the arm of a dying man calling for gods redemption. The Yaquina Head Light. Read more...
By: David Pitzel Jan. 17, 2017, midnight
Yaquina Head Light Part 1

Yaquina Head Light Part 1

It was a cold November morning when Sam Peters stepped off the train in Newport Oregon. The rain was coming down, almost horizontal in the wind, lashing against him. He was not prepared for this rain. Stepping onto the platform, pulling his trench coat collar up and his fedora down, he stalked off in the direction of the lone building with a light in the window. The bell jingled as he opened the door and stepped in. He stood for a moment dripping water on the floor surveying the small train depot until he spied the man behind the ticket window and walking toward him said. Read more...
By: David Pitzel Jan. 4, 2017, midnight
To Sleep Perchance To Scream

To Sleep Perchance To Scream

Today I begin what is to be my single most important contribution to mankind, the result of my years of research and most assuredly the catapult to which my career will launch from mediocrity to infamy. I was given the grant today to begin, in earnest, my dream research. My hard work and dedication has paid off and now I have only to produce the results, which I know will inevitably be achived. In addition to operating money I have been given a small lab on campus with which to preform my tests. It is not quite as large as I would have hoped and the accouterments are lacking but I can make do. The important thing is that I have gained the ear of the Dean and others; my research has been elevated from fanciful to legitimate and testable. A great day indeed, I must now acquire the necessary equipment for the endeavor and begin to interview volunteers and subjects for the study. Read more...
By: David Pitzel Dec. 18, 2016, midnight
Case No: 63521

Case No: 63521

Officer Thomas Watts responded to a 273D at 20:23 on Monday 11-17-2015. The address of the home is 4006 NE Emerson. Neighbors complained of screaming in the house starting at 19:30 and continuing for approximately a half hour. Read more...
By: David Pitzel Dec. 4, 2016, midnight
An Unfortunate Assignment Part 2

An Unfortunate Assignment Part 2

Mr. Brooks was finishing up his work when I arrived and I could see that a considerable portion of the documents had been moved from the disorganized quagmire of boxes and folders to the neat and accounted for collection on the other side of the room. I asked him if there was anything to note from the days delving and I was surprised to hear that he had found some odd expenditures which were of no concern but left some questions in his mind. Read more...
By: David Pitzel Nov. 20, 2016, midnight
An Unfortunate Assignment Part 1

An Unfortunate Assignment Part 1

I am writing this in the hope that the next person charged with handling this case will read these notes before doing any research or work with this estate. I beg of you, leave this now, for in trying to right the wrongs contained herein you will only seal your certain demise, as I have done. I will provide a full account of my findings, which I hope, will satisfy your curiosity enough and give an adequate amount of evidence with which to bury this case file so deep that it will never again be brought to the attention of anyone. Let this file fall away and be forgotten, let the house which it suggests fall to ruin and be claimed by the earth and do not, under any circumstances, attempt to contact poor Agatha. Read more...
By: David Pitzel Nov. 13, 2016, midnight
The Seed Man

The Seed Man

I'll never forget how horrified I was when I first heard the tale of the Seed Man. Being only eight years old didn't help, but damn, the idea of the thing kept me up for weeks after. It was Stanley Whitestone who spilled out the local legend as we sat in our treetop hideaway that summer evening. While the woods behind my new house began to darken he told me the story with quivering lips and sweat beads on his upper lip. Read more...
By: David Pitzel Oct. 18, 2016, 12:55 p.m.