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John Rockie Coppolella

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Story of M
By John Rockie Coppolella
Friday, May 28, 2010

Rated "PG13" by the Author.

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"The wind howled, and as my eyes adjusted to the scene, what I saw there was worse than my ten worst nightmares come true ..."



Urgent fists pounded on the heavy steel door to my loft. Startled awake, I stumbled from my chair to the surveliance monitor to catch a glimpse. A shadowy figure was recoiling from hitting the door so hard and was about to do it again when I shouted, "Hold on, dear God, I'm coming, dammit!" I recognized the voice as my excitable upstairs neighbor, Tom Kat, as he called himself. "What the hell could this dumb SOB want this fucking hour of the night?" I ranted.


After being up three days and nights in a row with no sleep, I had no patience for this kind of interruption,  finally having dozed off. "Shit," I grumbled tripping over the damn cat on the way to the door.


It was pitch black except for the emergency lights.


The security screen flickered momentarily to life, gasping for power from the dying battery backup system. Letterman who put me to sleep, was no longer in the building, evicted from the now dark and useless hi-def 60" plasma screen. All the luxury apartments had free cable, HDTV, and now new security lighting too. Numerous complaints from the condo residents about being left in the dark during the rolling blackouts for which LA was famous had instigated the expenditure. It hadn't hurt their cause, that a prominent and beloved talkshow host broke her leg, and threatened  lawsuit, unless her mostly rich tenant friends finally got their way. Not that Oprah needed the money or anything,  this being one of her many homes she could easily afford to buy. She was richer than God afterall.


"This had better be good," I growled, "I was dreaming about Cindy Margolis again."


"Gabe, get up, the damn power is out in the building again!" came Tom's voice of rage from just outside my door.


"Crap." I grumbled, and dragged myself up to get dressed, before realizing that I was still in my clothes from the night before. "A moment of amusement. It feels good!" I thought, surprising myself, since genuine laughter is rarely heard these days.


"Listen to that thunder booming off in the distance, and then there are those fearsome and strange howling noises again;  night after night its always the same," I groggily told myself. What I first assumed was the wind making sounds that used to make me sit bolt upright in my bed, fearful and  not so sure of their audible origin, now it just pissed me off. Gathering my courage I said, "This is just a normal night for M, but I am getting a little weary of this constant nightly interruption!"

Suddenly I heard loud explosion and crash,"Kaboom!" Wait! What the hell kind of racket was that,  like a gun going off? Some demon
ic beast has been stalking me DAY AND NIGHT, but unable to penetrate my soul. “Yes sir, Gabe,” I told myself, “No sense sniping about it. I'll just give the youngest Wright kid a loaded gun and make he sure he aims it right at the son-of-a-bitch, then tell him not to put the weapon down till he’s blown its damn head off!"


The creature is called Loki, but doesn’t seem to bother children, only adults like me with better things to do than tangle with the forces of darkness. "Still, it is kind of a noble name," I thought. "Probably named after the Norse God, but with worse clothes," It must be a powerful multi-dimensional entity to be here at all," I reasoned, "Right out of  some-one else's hellish nightmare or hallucination."

I know this because
the beast leaped off of a ladder and stood in my path menacing me one stormy night, when I went to the roof to investigate a faulty hybridized wind-power/AC generator system, that had taken ill during the deluge, causing a blackout in the building. Being the maintenance man I trudged up there, and found the whole structure toppled over, ripped up by its heavy duty mounting bolts, and amazingly still trying to turn. Its bent blades appeared to have been chewed up by some metal eating monster. It happened during one of those awful storms you are never sure about how bad it is really going to be until it hits you. So I went stupidly up to the roof in the face of the hurricane winds hanging onto whatever I could till I reached the power units, Suddenly, I caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye. A hideous  9-foot tall half man, half hairy beast with cloven hooves, red eyes, stubby horns and the whole demonic 9-yards appeared before me. It tore the ladder off the side of the building, which I used for servicing the wind turbines. They now sparked and cried out in an ear piercing whine, while still trying to turn their rotors. The turbines now lay in a heap, demolished like the World Trade Centers, their mangled blades reminding one of the Titanic's propellers after hitting the iceberg.

This vile beast
towered over me beating its gorilla like chest, then it sneered at me, and blocked my path of escape. Smelling horribly like ancient death, slobbering and baring a terrible set of sharpened teeth at me, it hissed something in a kinda of death-metal voice, like I never heard before. As it howled, it spat out the words "I'll be tearing your spine from your body and ripping out your still beating heart... This will be a glorious sacrifice, Earth-man," it said mocking me. "You should have never crossed over into my realm and offended my master. Now the portal is open from your side, and there is no stopping us, as even now we are flooding into the world again. Thank you for such a grand spiral!" It laughed hard an evil laugh.

Just as fast as it appeared it disappeared again. After delivering its message in a  slow blood curdling speech that chilled my soul, it vanished into the rain-soaked night air, fully in view of my unbelieving eyes. Afterward, right on queue my phone rings with my new ring-tone from Metallica, "For whom the bell tolls." it shrieked... Naturally, it was my friend from Quebec calling me, laughing. "Dude, I had this awesome fucking terrible dream about you and this demon-like beast fighting each other,  and the whole time I was eating ham and eggs and enjoying the show!  You are one lucky bastard to be alive. That thing was pouncing and about to eat you for dinner, since according to legend it hadn't eaten in about two thousand years. It was imprisoned after being captured and put in great chains on the astral plane by Astrid and her opposing alliance of demonic-human Nephilim. They are the really bad ones. Remember? They escaped the earth before the gateway was blocked from the other side. You un-fixed that one buddy boy, hee, hee, hee, thanks, man!"

"Thank God you called me," I said shaking and out of breath, rain dripping from my nose. "You did this! I warned you about mixing demonology with substance abuse. Still, even though it was your nightmare that bled through into my reality, I was saved-by-the-bell, just in the nick of time. Whew!" Laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation and my shivering self, the adrenaline finally licked me, and strange exhilaration overcame me.

"Saved-by-the-bell-indeed! One more second and you would have been mince-meat. From the looks of the magnificent beast in my vision," my friend said laughing again uncontrollably. "I conjured him up just by thinking about him, eh? I love that, its insane!"

"I told you to be CAREFUL, M" I snapped. "Funny, I just realized your name is the thirteenth letter of the alphabet."

"You just realized that, huh?" M chuckled.

I hung up the phone, finally able to put to put it all together, after such a fright. Thinking back about the vicious performance of snarling, vulgarity, and snapping teeth going on around me by Loki, I was not very surprised at the  military intelligence at the local army base conducting some damn live fire exercises right in the middle of the freak storm that had blown over us. All of the poor souls over there were probably freezing their entire asses off trying to get through the basic training, only to be sent to some God forsaken place like Iraq or Afghanistan to be blown to smithereens by the Al-Qaeda or CIA backed insurgents who played both sides for the money. War is big business, and can be profitable to everyone, as long as it is kept stoked up like a fire on a cold winter's night. Actually, most of those Al-Qaeda types are just foot soldiers, and have little more education than the average bored US High School student gets in there own inner city crime filled battle fields. This is where teachers cower for cover when gun fire erupts there among the hellish little bastards that have taken over the place. It was no fun, even when I went way back in the day, and Now it is far worse. Considering Columbine and the like we went through, this is just the tip of the ice-berg. The lessons we learned by watching TV and movies, they get in triple doses from the Internet, PlayStation, I-Pod, etc, and from their ghoulish friends and the like. "You know? Why bitch about what the kids today are learning when we never had a clue about any of that stuff?" I laughed to myself. "The worst that we suffered back then was some stupid humiliation or detention, suspension, expulsion, or may be getting the crap beat of us by a bunch of bad ass bullies, or even worse your old man.

Exhausted from my ordeal with the beast, I stumbled back into my loft, and wiped my face with a towel. I poured myself a drink, turned on CNN, fell backwards into my easy chair, landing with a squish of escaping air. "Just a normal day for M," I mumbled, snickering. "Close your eyes," I dared my self still shaking. With heavy eyes I settled in comfortably numb to the world. The plot thickened, as I dozed off thinking, "The sun coming up and reality setting in again." Oh, and remembering about how much I hated Oprah, I wished for her oblivion. If only I had M's powers to create and destroy from my dreams! Nearby, a fanged beast reminiscent of Marilyn Manson materialized in the shadows, and growled softly about the beautiful people.
















       Web Site: The Beautiful People - Marilyn Manson

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Reviewed by Lonnie Hicks 1/14/2012
This is stellar writing. You have together a story that rings of authenticity and so immediate. Humm, just saw Loki and I didn't intend to.
Reviewed by Tom Hyland 5/30/2010

'M' sounds like somebody got hold of some 'BAD WEED' ...

Your scene description made me think of Nick Cage in "City of Angels' was it?

Funny thing tho' - been thinkin' bout an N myself - Nympho Nanny ...

More like a 'pervert' story ... U can keep your LOKI stuff!

We'll see ... Peace, Tom.
Reviewed by Georg Mateos 5/28/2010
That nine foot dude was around here not long ago, but the Norse dudes in Scandinavia are like Hell Angels if you kick their bikes, cos they took that nine foot dude of yours, deep him in tar, all around feathers decoration and marched him out of town with a steel rail up his ass.
We haven't heard yet of his master complaining!


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