Kari

Like an ocean wave you
crash into my bobbing,
struggling—
barely above water—
Skull,
and send my already tepid existence
into complete tumultuous disarray.
I close my eyes and feel surrounded,
By You.
The weight of fifty atmospheres
force the air from my chest
as I fall deeper,
and deeper,
Below.
Swirling and disoriented,
I’ve now forgotten the storm above
which brought the force of you upon
My Being.
You envelop me and I surrender,
breathing you in,
tasting the salt that composes you
and accepting it as
~intrinsic~
Through my skin, such as a membrane,
energies diffuse and infuse;
osmosis ensues till we equalize,
balancing and becoming
One.
Ceasing to tumble against your currents
and now pulled gently adrift,
all that was cold and trepid
blossoms with the warmth of your
~Kiss~
In this newfound peace I re-emerge,
a serene face dotting the endless ocean
now bathed in warmth and sunlight.
I need not cast a breath that is not of
You,
But the air invades my lungs,
shocking me from our whole—
dividing the preexisting line
straight through the center of my
~Existence~
((creating a me without you))

The sand is warm on my back
and the seagulls dance across
the painted blue sky while you
lap at my body—
a lull,
consoling my perceived loss.

The Color of Helpless

The Color of Helpless

My mother lies in a white hospital
eighteen hours and three gas stops away,
strange fingers manipulating her heart.
What is the color of helpless?

Construction orange maybe
Those fiery diamonds
Casting sparks at your toes,
dance cinder foot, dance.

Not December’s afternoon blue
Blue is the color of round edges,
cats in books, floating above,
going under.

My brother is the color of whiskey bottles,
warm Jim Beam brown.

I hit a deer tonight, in the black.
It jumped into my light,
hurled back into darkness,
jarred by the hip of my pick-up.

my heart is a jar of worms at my friend hannah’s birthday party, 2009

a note card propped against it, in ballpoint:
how many are inside?

hannah’s mom unscrews the top after we all take a guess,
scoops out a handful.

my heart, in her mother’s hands, looks terrible enough to ward off the other
girls – unless i’m something else, and my hair is in a ponytail because it’s
comfortable, and i like the air on my neck

my heart, in her mother’s hands, under the light of everything, the kitchen most of all,
twists into knots and back out again, sailor’s ropes,

thunking against the hull of a dinghy and heave-ho’d into brine

hannah’s mom turns to me, her hair, red to the point of rigid, i get
distracted by her hair,

she wears a tank top with a cartoon of a skeleton on it, and she’s heaving the ropes,
and my heart, and the worms, and the hunger,
right into my palms, and it’s

shifting, sectioned and banded and wet with whatever my heart has,
the mucus that keeps it from drying out on the pavement,
all the (other) girls are looking at the holding

and i close my eyes and i’m standing in this really beautiful dress, i mean
i mean really beautiful, almost to squeezing revulsion, and i’m

lifting the hem right up above the mud so i can run like i’m anywhere else

in another body, with stronger legs and tougher nails,
running like fields of clovers, and i can see
every critter shifting with love and cravings (and frankly,

how often do those things differ
in my body, at least?) under my bare feet,
making everything greener

hannah’s mom rolls the mass into her hands again, the whole thing
still buzzing with runner’s high

my heart goes in the jar,
and we all eat frosting off paper plates,
sugar gritting between our teeth

The Man with the Gun (Inspired by the movie American Son)

Where is my son?!
Her anguished cries ring aloud,
She wants to beat the man armed with the gun,
But that uncouth behavior is not allowed.

There is a raging storm brewing in her mind,
As any normal parent would expect,
But the feeling in her gut serves to remind,
Of what happens if her reactions go unchecked.

For one misstep, mistake, mispeak,
Will cost her everything, why she’s here to start,
As she does her best to seem docile, not weak,
As that is what they like, soft spoken, tender heart.

So God forbid she lashes out in fear,
Scared as Hell and missing her son,
Because this isn’t home, not a friendly face here,
Not when you’re talking to the man with the gun.

He laughs in her face
He makes racist remarks,
He smiles to abase,
Disregards her claims as farce.

So she sits.

She sits and she waits, helpless in these walls,
She looks around and wonders,
What happened to Jamal.

Then enters her husband,
The white man! Here to save the day,
Without him she is stranded,
Her skin has left no other way.

For no one will admit it’s true.
Not her spouse and not the police,
Racism? That’s ancient “boo,”
Just go ahead, disturb our peace.

So now she’s an aggressor,
Not a scared, confused, and angry mom,
The words in reports make her seem lesser,
Because she failed to sit quiet and calm.

The rest of the movie is pointless.
You know how it’s going to end.
You’ve seen how they treated the mother,
Who lost her own son, her little kid.

The marital problems and shouting,
The childhood stories of how they’re brought up,
Their parental method doubting,
And fighting over who’s more messed up.

But none if it matters.
None of it at all.
Because in the end, their son dies.
Their little boy Jamal.

That is the point, the meaning of this film.
Is that their son was killed.
But the way they were treated was so horribly different,
And not because of anything other than skin.

And this isn’t a systematic issue we can fix with some legislation,
Something we can wave a wand to and reprogram our nation.
It’s something that requires an individual person to reflect within,
And ask if it’s right to judge someone for merely their skin.

The answer might be obvious, but achieving it is harder,
It requires constant working and awareness,
It’s something you must strive for with ardor.

Remember this movie,
About the mother that you saw.
Because she’s real,
And she needs a little love from us all.

Help make this world one where she’s not scared to be scared,
When you can read a newspaper title and not be prepared,
For it to detail how an unarmed black man was shot before his life had begun.

Shot by the man, the man with the gun.

The Next Morning In Fruita

The Next Morning In Fruita

These slabs of feet betray me-
Did coyotes gnaw on them
as I slept?
I smell raw meat and folgers.

I sit, steaming cup in hands,
sore joints licking the heat
in this fracked up town
of dinosaur bones and bike spokes.

The canyons cackle
beyond my motel room,
judging the stranger in my bed.

It’s whorishly hot here-
I grab my ice bucket
arch my back and pour,
soaking my body like Irene
in Flashdance.

Below a dog is tethered to wrought
iron, pulls again and again
desperate for freedom.

Mirror, Mirror

The servants inside Nightwell Castle had long learned to ignore the feverish whispers emitting from their prince’s bedroom. To survive in a place such as this, you needed to be adept at knowing when to turn a blind eye or deaf ear. Most instances involving Prince Narcissus went by this rule.
At first glance, Prince Narcissus was a charming man. He was a tall and lithe young man, always dressed in the finest silks and adorned with the shiniest of gold. The prince’s face was perfectly structured and the long golden hair that curled around his face added to the perfection. Whenever his starry blue eyes glanced upon a maiden, she would faint in response! No one could disagree that Prince Narcissus de Vain was an amazingly handsome man.
However, the rumors surrounding him did not match his appearance.
Gossip throughout the kingdom described the prince as a man obsessed. It was rather disturbing. Day after day. Night after night. The prince spent his time conversing with his reflection. Dorthy, who cleaned the prince’s chambers, once witnessed this scene. She, with a “don’t repeat this,” said the scene looked something like this:
The prince, tired from a long day of shadowing the king, stumbled into his private bedroom. He then slipped off his boots, untied his long hair, and walked into the room’s bathroom. Of course, Dorthy didn’t see what went on in there, but when Prince Narcissus made his way back into the bedroom he looked more put together. His demeanor was still dull like he was carrying a heavy weight. However, his eyes contained a new look. It wasn’t something Dorthy saw when the prince was learning how to be king. Whatever caused his eyes to glint that way was far more important than his status as heir. So, imagine her surprise when the focus of that look was the polished mirror resting beside Prince Narcissus’ bed! The mirror itself was strange, surrounded by the kingdom’s best pillows and placed beside a table containing sweets Dorthy could never afford. None of the servants were allowed to clean the mirror.
“Only I can touch her” the prince had commanded.
‘Her?’ Dorthy thought at the time. She found the pronoun a bit weird, but it wasn’t her place to comment on the prince’s mistakes.
However, the situation before her gave a bit of context to that command. Prince Narcissus was beginning to talk. At first, Dorthy thought it was to her. She was pleasantly surprised because servants are usually treated as furniture. Dorthy opened her mouth to respond, but then the prince answered himself! His tone was slightly higher as if he was imitating a woman. “Welcome back” he had said. Dorthy was sure it was a jest, but Prince Narcissus looked engrossed in his conversation. It seemed serious enough that he didn’t even notice her presence. Dorthy was rather worried. Who was her prince talking to? Maybe the rumors were right and the castle was
haunted! However, her question was answered as the prince stopped walking. He had seated himself in front of the mirror, whose surface reflected his image. Prince Narcissus’ entire being lit up as he continued speaking to the mirror. His pale cheeks gained a hint of color and his eyes warmed. The prince’s tone of voice, even when pitched to a woman’s, was soft. It no longer held the iciness Dorthy was used to. If she didn’t know any better, Dorthy would have thought Prince Narcissus was speaking to a secret lover. It was highly disturbing. Dorthy could no longer find the cold prince she knew. The one before her was a man in love trying to court his woman! She needed to tell someone. That mirror was cursed! Why else would the prince talk so lovingly to his reflection? She (to not interrupt the cursed conversing) quietly rushed out of his chambers and reported the incident to the head maid. Dorthy hoped that the head maid could tell the king and queen. They could bring in a doctor or an exorcist to help their poor prince!
However, to her horror, Prince Narcissus continued to fall in love with his reflection. Now that she knew what to look for, Dorthy witnessed her prince talking to the mirror every evening. Doctors, priests, and it was rumored that even dark magicians came to try to fix Prince Narcissus. Each time he would insist that he was talking to his lover. A brave maid tried to take away the mirror to help her prince but was greeted with a swift execution. The prince made it clear that only he was able to touch his lover.
It was hard to keep quiet after the prince murdered that maid. So, throughout the kingdom, it became known that Prince Narcissus had gone mad. He was mocked as ‘the man whose looks were so great he fell in love with himself.’
Bless their hearts, the king and queen tried to help their only son. How was the heir of their kingdom supposed to continue his line when the only thing he loved was himself? At first, they set up meetings with every eligible maiden in the kingdom. One had to catch Prince Narcissus’ eye, right?
Wrong.
The prince became even more obsessed with his reflection claiming “Look how beautiful she is! How could I ever marry someone when my love is this charming?!” Prince Narcissus also started to see his lover in other places besides his bedside mirror. He talked to her in windows, cups, and even puddles after it rained.
The king and queen were truly at a loss. At this point, they would have to change him as heir and place their daughter in his place. It was then a trusted advisor suggested:
“If the prince is so in love with his looks, then why not find someone who fits his aesthetics?”
The suggestion became their last hope. The king and queen announced to all nearby kingdoms that no matter the status, as long as they looked similar to their son, they could try for his hand.
Women and even men flocked to the castle. It was a sea of blonde hair. Among these contestants was a young girl named Helena. She had blonde hair and blue eyes like the rest of them, but she was unique in one special way. Helena was a witch.
Helena was also very bored.
She had heard of this mad Prince Narcissus despite residing two kingdoms away and wanted to see him in person. A man who was in love with himself! Maybe he could cure Helena of her boredom. Fortunately, this contest was being held. Unfortunately, she had black hair and red eyes. Nothing magic couldn’t fix, though.
However, when she showed up at the overly grand Nightwell palace, Helena didn’t expect the prince to be so charming. Her boredom as well as her apathy was cured. Each day she spent conversing with the prince (no matter how forced it was on his end) made Helena feel warm. She didn’t want to say it was love, but maybe something close to it. The prince also seemed to warm up to their conversations. Prince Narcissus got rid of the other contestants but couldn’t bring himself to get rid of his first love. He wasn’t against introducing Helena to her, however.
“Honey” he looked at the mirror “this is Helena, a new friend of mine.” Prince Narcissus nervously chuckled and waved his hands to reassure that they were just friends to Helena’s chagrin. The prince then made his voice higher to respond as his love. “It’s fine, love, I’m not so closed-minded as to not allow you to have female friends. Just don’t forget about me.” The reflection pouted. The two, no one, continued their discussion. However, Helena, no matter her original intentions, felt disturbed seeing the man she lo-liked so engrossed in madness. Although, she still tried to be polite and waved to the prince’s reflection with a kind “hello.”
Helena had a new mission. She needed to rid the prince of this mirror. Of his insanity. Despite being a witch, Helena had really come to care for Prince Narcissus. Outside of his narcissism, he was a kind prince who cared for his people. She didn’t want to see such a bright future go to waste.
That night she consulted all her spell books. There had to be something that could help her prince! Then she found it. The spell that sealed her fate. It wasn’t a grand spell. The cost wasn’t even that high, certainly not her life. It was a spell that targets the mind. The issue was that Prince Narcissus was seeing his reflection as a separate being and gender. So, the purpose of the spell was to remedy that. Prince Narcissus’ reflection would merge with his own perception of himself and he would no longer identify it as another person. Helena thought the prince would
certainly be embarrassed after learning that his reflection wasn’t another person, but she would be there to support him. Maybe he would even be saddened.
She never thought anger would be the go-to emotion.
Prince Narcissus was inconsolable. The spell worked. However, instead of acknowledging that his reflection wasn’t a real person, the prince wailed that his lover was killed. His perfect darling was gone and only he remained inside of the mirror’s reflection. Prince Narcissus was angry. He screamed throughout the castle trying to find whoever was responsible for his lover’s death. Head rolled wherever he strolled. The prince couldn’t accept it. Why? Who would want to kill his beautiful beloved? Her innocent blue eyes and blonde hair couldn’t inspire animosity! So, why!? Why would someone hurt her? He killed his way trying to find the murderer. He eventually had to kill the right target, right?
The palace was slathered in blood. The knights who arrived on the scene thought they were in hell. They expected chaos. Wailing maids and screams for help. However, it was so silent. The only sound came from the heavy pants of Prince Narcissus. He looked like a devil who had crawled its way out of hell. Blood and clumps of gore stuck to his skin like a second outfit. The prince’s blonde hair was dyed red and veiled his face. Only bloodshot and bulging eyes were seen. They were so dilated that the once famed starry blue eyes couldn’t be seen. All that was left was an angry man hell-bent on what he thought was revenge. It was the demeanor of a murderer. The pressure surrounding Prince Narcissus left the knights quaking. They had lived in a time of peace. The carnage in front of them was something they never imagined.
“Move” Prince Narcissus commanded.
The knights were so stunned they didn’t dare to move. Freeze had won over fight and flight.
“Orrrr” the prince slurred “was it you?” His head snapped up to scrutinize the knights. “Did you kill her?”
At this soft yet dangerous tone, the knights made the collective decision to shake their heads no and move the hell out of their prince’s way. The royal family’s famed strength was already exemplified in front of them. They didn’t need a more personal example.
Prince Narcissus moved ahead of these pathetic knights. They couldn’t even protect one innocent woman. After he has gotten justice, he’ll have to execute them for their incompetence. Gods above, how was he going to live without her? Their conversations were the one thing that could relax him after a long day of training as heir. The soft way she spoke his name, the way her plush lips formed-
“Prince Narcissus?”
Helena gasped. This wasn’t anger. This was rage. How could her once kind prince cause such a disaster? How? She almost felt like sobbing at the prince’s demonic visage. It didn’t resemble the man she fell in love with.
“Helena.” Prince Narcissus, despite his sorrow, was able to recognize the friend he spent the last weeks talking with. Their conversations were always pleasant. He had even introduced her to his beloved. Wait. Could Helena have-?
“You! Was it you Helena? Did you murder my lover? Were you so jealous of our love that you had to ruin the one good thing in my life?”
“The one good thing in your life?” Helena scoffed. She intimately knew that feeling. To live a life full of unhappiness, of boredom, but have all of it erased by a shining light.
“You were that to me, my prince.” Helena didn’t think she was the type to fall so fast, but their conversations, the stories they shared, made their way into her heart. It was so short, only a couple of weeks, but Helena thought a bond had formed between them.
“Lies.” Prince Narcissus hissed. “Answer me. Was it you?”
“My prince. Prince Narcissus. Please, listen. The person you loved wasn’t real!” Helena sobbed. What can she do for a man so blind?
“That’s not what I asked.”
Helena shakily laughed with tears running down her face. She lifted her head to stare directly into her love’s cold eyes. Helena sealed her fate and whispered “Yes.”
Prince Narcissus thought he felt his heart break a second time. This was someone he genuinely enjoyed being around. Maybe without his darling, he could have grown to love her. Alas, no one could ever top her. The reflection he saw in the mirror.
Helena went on to explain that she was a witch. A witch who desperately wanted to cure herself of the apathy that grayed her life. From changing her hair and falling for the prince, it was all said. She ended the speech by removing the magic, changing her appearance. Helena appeared before the mad prince as her original self.
Prince Narcissus couldn’t believe her. A witch! She was just like the evil being from the stories he read as a child. A jealous wench who came to separate the protagonist and his fated lover! Maybe his beloved just needs a kiss and she’ll return? His broken mind thought this to be a solid plan to use after he got rid of the obstacle in front of him.
“I truly believed you to be a dear friend Helena the witch. I’m almost sorry to do this.” The prince placed his sword at Helena’s neck, slicing a shallow cut.
Helena’s red eyes widened, shifting to stare at the man she grew to love. There were currently 56 spells at her disposal to harm him and ensure her safety. However, she couldn’t do it. Helena couldn’t hurt Prince Narcissus. All she could do was whisper “please” over and over. Hoping for true love to win over madness.
Seeing her desperation and love, Prince Narcissus lowered his sword. His mind wavered. Was he truly insane? Was his darling really fake? Was Helena telling the truth? “Are you? Can you swear that you told no lies?”
“I swear,” Helena firmly said. Her demeanor was determined. She didn’t have the appearance of a liar.
Prince Narcissus knew this. So he smiled. He smiled and smiled and smiled. He smiled all the way until he thrust his bloody sword into her chest. “I can’t accept it.” Prince Narcissus couldn’t accept that his lover was fake. So, he killed the one thing that could prove his love false. Helena.
Helena felt a fishy taste in her mouth and gagged on the blood suffocating her throat. This was the man she fell for? A man who was willingly blinding himself? She stared at the sword penetrating her chest and let out a wet laugh. She laughed just as the prince had smiled before he placed this sword inside of her. Helena looked up into the prince’s dim eyes, her own mixed with pity and schadenfreude. She didn’t have the 56 spells she had a couple of seconds ago, but there was one important spell she could use in the time she had left. Helena’s voice grew enchanting and filled the air with power.
Broken up with bloody coughs she spoke “Prince Narcissus, the mad prince, my love, I curse you. I curse you, a man willing to be blind, to never see. You will no longer gaze upon the reflection you love so. You will spend the rest of your days blind, cursed to search for the reflection you made your lover. This is the last command of I, Helena Abaddon, the Last Witch of the East.”
Her eyes, now glowing with power, slowly dimmed. Helena spent her last minutes pitying Prince Narcissus and the past her who fell in love with such a broken man. Her last thought was for a next life where they would never meet.
Prince Narcissus watched the witch’s body slump on his sword. He almost scoffed at her pitiful curse. It was definitely in line with what a villain would do. They always have to make one last haughty statement before they die in obscurity. He laughed at Helena’s corpse and pulled out his sword with a squelch. It was now time for the protagonist to save his lover! Who, by his knowledge, was waiting for a kiss in his bedroom mirror. Prince Narcissus ran the way back, avoiding the puddles of blood and corpses lining the way.
Out of breath, Prince Narcissus stared at his reflection. Who now looked like a beautiful sleeping princess in his eyes. His eyes blurred with tears. Prince Narcissus went to wipe them but only came away with streaks of blood. He was not crying. So, why was his vision blurring? Prince Narcissus thought the tunnel vision he saw his princess with was also strange. Why was everything fading? It couldn’t be Helena. He had killed her minutes ago. He avenged his lover and all that was needed was a kiss. So, why? Why was his happy ending fading in front of his eyes? Where was it?! Prince Narcissus started to panic. The prince’s body tilted away from the mirror and his bloody hands pawed at his face.
“No, no, no” Prince Narcissus gasped. “The protagonist is always happy in the end! The heroes win and the villains lose! SO? WHY?”

Why couldn’t he see?

Yellow Raccoon: Very Mellow

Chapter 1: And It Was Yellow

From my great-grandfather to my grandfather to my father, my family has a history of fighting crime as a superhero named Yellow Raccoon. I was the next person in the bloodline to take on the mantle. My name is Andrew Midas Fairon. I, alongside my little brother James, was raised in Grease City, New Jersey.
It was Friday. It was May of 2021. It was also my senior year of high school. I was walking home from the bus stop with James.
“I am excited for Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings,” I said.
“I’m mainly excited for Loki,” James replied.
“Personally, although I enjoyed Thor: Ragnarok, I didn’t like how Hela was Odin’s daughter. I was expecting her to be Loki’s secret daughter who is destined to bring the end of Asgard.”
“Well, the MCU is its own universe.”
“I understand that, but I really enjoy it when they follow some of the comics.”
James and I arrived at our house. As we walked in, we saw Dad and his friend Lucas Aznavour. Lucas went by ‘White Archer’. He was in his hero outfit, looking like a basic cosplayer. Dad was also in his hero outfit. It was a yellow tactical jacket, an old gray biker helmet with goggles, and a gray face mask to cover his whole face.
“Hey, boys,” Dad said.
“So, one of them is the next Yellow Raccoon?” Lucas questioned.
“Yup,” I answered. “It’s me.”
I then went upstairs. James went to the garage. He was a tech-wizard and would sometimes create gadgets for Dad.

I walked into my room. In my room were two posters of Spider-Man and the band Genesis, a shelf of books, and a messy bed. On my desk were a computer and an Xbox. I would occasionally hook my Xbox up to my computer.
“What a day,” I said as I layed on my bed.
My phone received a text. It was from Jolene. We have been friends since freshman year of high school.

Hey, man, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out at my place.

I then replied back with a text.

Sure. What time do you want me to arrive?

Jolene then replied back.

6:25.

“Boys, pizza!” Mom yelled.
I then got up from my bed and walked out of my room. James, Mom, Dad, and Lucas were sitting on the kitchen table. I sat at the table.
“Dude, Metal Head was one tough villain to fight,” Lucas told Dad.
“Glad I had my gadgets,” Dad said. “Thanks, James.”
“How is your school project in the garage so far?” Lucas asked James.
“It’s going good,” James replied. “The thrusters are now going fifteen miles per hour.”
“Dad, Mom, I was wondering if I could go to Jolene’s house,” I said.
“Sure,” Mom replied. “Just be home by nine.”
“Okay,” I then said.

It was now 6:10. I left the house and started walking to Jolene’s house. It was a nine minute walk. Three thugs walked in front of me.
“Hey there, pal,” the first thug said.
“Give us whatever you have, punk,” the second thug said.
The third thug grabbed my shirt. I smacked his hand off of my shirt.
“Get off me, man,” I shouted.
The second thug punched me in the face. I fell on the ground.
“Hey, you three,” a voice yelled.
It was Dad in his hero outfit. Dad punched the second thug in the face and grabbed the first and third thugs by their jackets.
“Hey, man, why are you hurting us?” the third thug asked. “We were just talking to this kid.”
Dad threw the two thugs on the side of the road. The three thugs then ran off.
“This ain’t over, pal!” the second thug yelled out.
“I had them,” I said.
“It didn’t look like it,” Dad replied. “I’ll escort you to Jolene’s.”
Dad and I walked down the sidewalk.
“Andrew, if you want to take on the mantle, you show me that you’re ready.”
“I understand that, and I’m trying to fight back, but sometimes it could go too far.”
We then arrived at Jolene’s house.
“Alright, see you when you get home,” Dad said.
I walked up to the house and rang the doorbell. Mrs. Stevens opened the door.
“Ah, Andrew,” she said.
“Hey, Mrs. Stevens.”
I walked inside. Jolene walked downstairs. Jolene looked like an anime character with her purple-dyed hair.
“Hey, Andrew,” Jolene said. “It’s 6:20. I told you to arrive at 6:25.”
“I like arriving early,” I replied. “Want to play on the Nintendo Switch?”
Jolene and I went upstairs and walked in her room. In her room were a poster of Prince’s Purple Rain, a large television, a Nintendo Switch, and an Xbox. Jolene handed a blue Nintendo Switch controller to me as she had the red controller.
“What game do you want to play?” she asked.
“Mario Kart 8,” I answered.
“So, what are you planning to do after high school?”
“I was just hoping to enter college through something relating to journalism and photography. I’m always busy at the newspaper club every Tuesday.”
“Are you going to John Hall University?”
“Yeah.”
My phone then went off. I received a text from Dad.

Hey, I was hoping that we could have a father-son bonding day and walk around Downtown Grease City. We rarely hang out that much.

“It’s my old man,” I told Jolene. “He wants me to hang out with him tomorrow.”
“Do so, then,” Jolene said. “Now let’s play Mario Kart 8.”

Chapter 2: A Father-Son Night Gone Wrong

It was Saturday. I woke up at 7:10 AM. I walked downstairs to the kitchen. I poured a cereal box of Lucky Charms and then milk into a bowl. I hate people who put milk and then cereal in a bowl. They are evil.
“Hey, Andrew.” Dad walked in the kitchen. “We’ll go to Downtown Grease City at 6:20 PM.”
“Okay,” I replied.
“Go wake up your brother,” Dad demanded.
I went upstairs and walked into James’ room. In his room were two posters of David Bowie and Daredevil, a computer, and an Xbox.
“Hey, man, Dad is making breakfast,” I told him.
“I’ll be down there in a bit,” he responded.
I went back downstairs and sat back down at the kitchen table. I continued eating cereal.
“James is on his way,” I told Dad.

It was now 6:00 PM. I was wearing my Daredevil shirt. Dad was wearing his Punisher shirt.
“You always want to arrive early,” he said to me. “Bye, honey.”
Dad and I walked out of the house and into his black Pontiac Firebird. I got in the passenger seat as he got in the driver seat.
“Let’s talk, son,” Dad said as we drove away from our house. “To become the next Yellow Raccoon, you need to…prove your independence. Show me that you are ready to take on the mantle.”
“I understand, but I’m trying,” I told him.
“You got your ass kicked, and I had to save you, which I’m glad I did. I’m basically Mr. Miyagi from Karate Kid.”

As Dad and I drove into Downtown Grease City, I looked out the car window. Downtown Grease City was my favorite place to go to. Other than Terry’s, there were Grease City Mall, Marshall’s Comic Books, Ditko’s Apartments, Tobias’ Corner, the Maria Market, and the Marvin Marriott. I usually go to the Marvin Marriott for nerdy conventions.
“Let’s go to Terry’s,” I said.
“Sure,” Dad responded. “I can also go for a burger.”
Dad parked in the Grease City parking lot. Terry’s was two blocks away from where we parked. We got out of the car and walked.
“Terry’s isn’t that far,” Dad said.
“Help!” a voice called out.
Dad and I looked down an alleyway. A masked man held a pistol at a woman. The man also had a lion tattoo on his left wrist and blue eyes.
“Give me your purse!” the robber yelled.
“Stand back, Andrew.” Dad ran towards the robber. “Hey, dude!”
He grabbed the robber’s left wrist and pushed it down. A gunshot fired. Dad fell on the ground.
“Dad!” I yelled.
The robber ran off. I ran to Dad. His right leg had a bullet wound.
“Ma’am, call an ambulance!” I yelled. “Damn it! Dad, look at me. You are not going to die.”
The woman pulled out her phone and dialed 911. “Yeah, 911? I am near Terry’s in an alleyway, and a boy and his dad are with me. The dad has been shot. Please be here as fast as you can.”
“Andrew,” Dad muttered.
“Dad, I’m sorry. I should have helped. I could have helped…”

It was a six minute drive to Grease City’s Emergency Room by ambulance. I was sitting outside of room 211. I felt scared and frustrated. Two police officers walked up to me.
“I’m sorry, son,” the first police officer said.
The second police officer asked, “Do you know who shot him?”
“The man had blue eyes and a lion tattoo on his left wrist,” I answered.
“Sounds like the same guy that has been robbing people in alleyways,” the first police officer said. “We’ve been trying to catch that guy for three weeks.”
“Hope your father gets well, kid,” the second police officer said.
The two police officers walked off.
“Andrew,” a male voice yelled out.
I looked to my right. James, Mom, and Jolene were running towards me.
“James, Mom, Jolene,” I yelled.
Mom hugged me as she cried.
“How did you guys get here?” I then asked.
“Jolene’s dad drove us to the hospital after you called Mom, telling us that Dad was in the emergency room,” James said.
“What happened to your dad?” Jolene asked.
“He was saving a woman that was getting robbed, and was shot by the robber,” I said.
A doctor walked out of the room.
“Your dad is okay,” he said. “We managed to get the bullet out. His right leg is paralyzed, though. He will stay in the room for a couple weeks. Months maybe.”
“I’m glad he is alive,” I calmly replied.
“You guys can see him if you want,” the doctor said.
The doctor then walked off. James, Mom, Jolene, and I walked into the room Dad was in. Dad was laying on a hospital bed.
“How are you doing, Dad?” I asked.
“I’m doing fine, kids,” Dad said. “James, Lisa, Jolene, can you three go out for a bit? I have to talk to Andrew.”
James, Mom, and Jolene walked outside the room.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t help,” I told Dad.
“It’s okay,” Dad said. “You are young, and I don’t want you or James getting hurt.”
“I just thought because you fought in Grease City for twenty two years that you would save that woman.”
“Look, just go home and get some sleep,” Dad demanded. “I’ll be fine. Lucas will protect Grease City.”
I walked out of the room.
“I know what to do,” I told myself. “I’m taking the damn name!”

Chapter 3: From Protege To Hero

It was Monday. I had never forgotten what happened on Saturday. I was sitting alone in the cafeteria during my lunch period. I was eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Jolene walked over to my table and sat right next to me.
“Hey, I’m…sorry about your dad,” she quietly told me.
“Thanks,” I said. “It’s okay.”
“Hey, Fairon!” a voice yelled out.
I turned around. Scott was walking over to me. He would bully me and was also part of the Daryl Dingos football team. He used to date Jolene, but they broke up around sophomore year of high school.
“Not now,” I whimpered.
“Hey, I’m talking to you.” Scott continued to walk over to me.
“What the hell do you want, damn it?” I stood up right in front of his face.
“I’m sorry, man,” Scott calmly said.
The bell then rang. I grabbed my backpack as Jolene got up from her seat. Jolene and I walked off to fifth period.

School was finally over. James and I were walking home from the bus stop. James was very talkative despite what happened.
“How’s your, uh, driver’s ed?” he asked me.
“It’s going good,” I quietly responded. “I will take my driving test this June.”
“Mom was thinking that I start driver’s ed after this summer.”
“How can you be so…calm even after what happened? Our dad literally was shot this Saturday, and here you are now, acting cool as if nothing happened.”
James and I stopped walking. He looked away from me.
“You’re right,” he muttered quietly. “I’m trying to forget it and acting like Dad just broke his leg.”
James then turned to look at me and started crying. We then continued walking home.
“I’m sorry, man,” I said.

James and I arrived home. Lucas was in our house.
“Hey, kids,” he said.
“Hey, where’s our mom?” I asked Lucas.
“She is still at work. She might arrive after midnight. I just came to check on you two.” Lucas then walked out of our house. “See you two later.”
James then walked upstairs. I opened our downstairs closet. I moved the board games and the random blankets out of the way. Behind them was a yellow button. I pressed it. A small area next to the button opened. In it was Dad’s hero outfit.
“For you, Dad,” I said.

I was now on top of a building called Ditko’s Apartments in Downtown Grease City in the Yellow Raccoon outfit. It was three floors tall.
“Oh, crap, dude,” I said to myself. “Andrew, make Dad proud.”
I pulled out a grappling gun and shot it at the building across the street. The hook hooked on a billboard on Terry’s. I took a deep breath and jumped off the building. I swung over traffic and then crashed into the billboard.
“Made it,” I said to myself.
A gunshot was heard. It was from inside. I jumped off the roof and landed on my feet.
In Terry’s was a masked robber aiming a pistol at the employees.
“Give me the money,” the robber yelled. “That was a warning shot.”
I looked at the man’s left wrist. On it was the lion tattoo. I walked inside and ran towards the man. I punched him. He aimed his pistol at me. I grabbed it and dismantled it.
“You like shooting people’s parents?” I yelled.
“How do you know what happened?” he asked.
“I saw you shoot a man as his son watched!”
“Then, why didn’t you do anything?”
I was now frustrated. I threw him out of Terry’s onto the sidewalk. The police arrived. The officers walked out of their cars. Two of them walked up to the robber.
“Thank you, Y. R.” An officer walked up to me. “We’ve been trying to catch that guy for weeks. I’m Commissioner Eric Jefferson of the Grease City Police Department.”
“Nice to meet you.” I shook his right hand.
“Well, I better get going.” Jefferson then walked off.

I then arrived home. Mom was sitting on the couch.
“Where were you?” she asked in disgust.
“Fighting crime,” I responded calmly.
“I arrived home and noticed you weren’t in the living room, the kitchen, your room, or anywhere in the house.”
“I just want to make Dad proud, but I got the man that shot him!”
I took off the helmet, goggles, and face mask.
“Andrew, I understand what you’re going through, but you need to let Lucas do the job while your dad is in recovery.”
A knock was received at the door.
“Go upstairs, change, and go to bed,” Mom demanded.
I ran upstairs into my room. I layed on my bed and put the covers over my head.
“Hey, Andrew,” a familiar voice said.
I put the covers off of my head and saw Lucas in front of me.
“Hey, Lucas,” I said.
“I knew about you fighting the robber that shot your old man,” he said. “I went to your house to talk to you. I understand that you want to be like your father, but you need to focus on school and your driver’s ed.”
“I just wanted revenge.”
“Revenge is sometimes not the answer. Back in 2006, when I was your age, I wanted to kill the man that killed my father, so I trained myself to be an archer for two years. I soon found the man. As I aimed my bow at his face, I noticed that the man had a daughter. I couldn’t kill him, so I did the logical thing – I told him to turn himself into the police. He is currently serving his time for four years in prison. His ex-wife took custody of his daughter.”
“The man I went after didn’t have a child.”
“You don’t know that – right when you left, I walked by Terry’s and saw a boy looking for his dad. He told me what he looked like – blue eyes and a lion tattoo. You should get some sleep.”
Lucas then got out of my room as I felt bad.

Chapter 4: Graduation Is Here

May 29th was finally here. It was the day I finally graduated. I was at the Daryl Oates High School graduation ceremony with Jolene. Our parents took a picture of me and Jolene in our high school graduation suits. Mom’s parents were also there, and so were Dad’s parents.
“Mein Gott, you are finally an adult.” Grandma Waltz hugged me. “Sorry about your papa.”
“I’m glad that we flew all the way from Coyote Hill to see my grandson graduate,” Grandpa Fairon said.
“Are you thinking of getting a job?” Jolene asked me.
“I was thinking of working for Taylor Press,” I said. “Mom has been stressed since Dad got shot. I need to help pay the bills.”
“Jolene, over here,” Jolene’s friend called out.
“See you later, Andrew.” Jolene then walked off.
I then walked to James, Mom, her parents, and Dad’s parents. Mom was on the phone.
Grandpa Fairon walked up to me. “I’m proud of the next Yellow Raccoon.”
“Your son doesn’t think that I’m ready,” I told him.
“Okay, we’ll be there,” Mom said before hanging up the phone. “Andrew, we have to head to the hospital.”

James, Mom, her parents, Dad’s parents, and I arrived in Dad’s room in the hospital.
“Hey, kids,” Dad said. “Congrats, Andrew. Uh…all of you…go get something. Andrew, Dad, and I are going to talk.”
“Okay,” Mom said.
James, Mom, Grandma Fairon, and Mom’s parents left the room as Grandpa Fairon and I walked up to Dad.
“I’ve been thinking about what you did the other day,” Dad whispered. “I think you are ready. I am proud of you.”
“Mike has been telling me about what you did after he was injured,” Grandpa Fairon said to me. “Your great-grandfather, Peter Fairon, was your age when he began fighting Nazi spies in Coyote Hill in 1941. He wore his father’s World War One outfit and added goggles to it. He even met President Franklin D. Roosevelt and Commander Eagle in 1942 before fighting in World War Two.”
“Before fighting in the Vietnam War, Dad over here met Richard Nixon in 1970,” Dad revealed. “He also met Ronald Reagan in 1988.”
“You fought alongside Task Force Blue in the Iraq War in 2002,” I said. “Mom and I lived in Munich, Germany.”
“Mike, how are you?” A man with a gritty British accent walked in the room.
The man wore a blue business suit and had a goatee.
“Who are you?” I asked the man.
“Joseph Connery, agent of the Support National Organization. I came here to visit your father. I led Task Force Blue.”
“S.N.O., the anti-terrorist organization?” I questioned. “Grandpa told me about you guys. The organization was formed during the formation of NATO in 1949.”
“Connery, I’m talking to my father and my son, dude,” Dad said. “Get out of the room. This is private.”
“Let me know when y’all are done,” Connery told me as he walked out.
“Now, Andrew, you have proven that you are ready,” Dad said. “A hero may not get what he deserves, even after stopping a serious problem. People like you don’t ask for much. No reward. No reputation. You keep fighting for those who need help. You guys should catch up with the others.”
Dad’s speech moved and motivated me. Grandpa Fairon and I got up and walked outside of the room. Connery was waiting outside the room.
“You can go talk to him,” I told him.
Connery then walked in the room as Grandpa Fairon and I walked off.

Chapter 5: Job Hunting Is Easy For A Fairon

June 4th was here. I was walking around Grease City with James and looking for a job. I was carrying around my resume.
“My birthday is in two days,” James said.
“Can’t wait,” I happily commented. “You’ll be sixteen.”
“There are a couple of jobs you can work at. Terry’s. Marshall’s Comic Books. Lil Julius.”
James and I stopped at a newspaper stand. The guy at the stand gave a newspaper to me. I then gave a dollar to him. An ad from Taylor Press in the newspaper caught my attention.

HELP WANTED. WE ARE LOOKING FOR MORE PEOPLE THAT ARE GOOD FOR PHOTOGRAPHY AT TAYLOR PRESS.

“I think I already found a job,” I told James.
“Really?” James questioned. “What?”
“Taylor Press – they are looking for photographers.”

James and I walked into the Taylor Press building. I walked in front of the woman at the front desk.
“Uh, hi, I’m here for a job,” I said to her.
“Sit down,” she said. “Tim will be with you in a moment. Name please?”
“Andrew Fairon.”
James and I sat near the front desk.
“Why are they needing photographers?” James asked.
“Maybe because they are running low,” I answered.
“Andrew Fairon?” the woman at the front desk yelled.
“Wish me luck,” I told James.
“Fifth floor, room 504,” the woman said.
I went to the elevator and pressed the button to the fifth floor. I arrived at Timmy Taylor’s office.
“Uh, Timmy Taylor?” I questioned.
“Yes,” he answered.
“I’m here for a job,” I said.
I gave my resume to Taylor. He began reading it.

Name
ANDREW MIDAS FAIRON

Profile
I WAS BORN ON NOVEMBER 2ND, 2002, IN GREASE CITY. I WAS IN THE NEWSPAPER CLUB AT DARYL OATES HIGH SCHOOL FOR TWO YEARS. I TOOK PICTURES FOR ITS NEWSPAPERS WHILE ALSO WORKING ON MY JOURNALISM.

Address
154 BLUE OYSTER STREET, GREASE CITY, NEW JERSEY, UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

Taylor looked at me and then at the resume.
“You’re hired,” he said. “You do the photography while one does the journalism.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said.
“You start this Tuesday,” he then added.
I walked out of his office. A woman then walked up to me.
“You are now the new guy,” she said.
“Uh, yeah,” I replied.
“I’m Laura Calvo. Welcome to Taylor Press.”
“Andrew Fairon.”
“You’re the kid whose father was shot?”
“Uh, yeah, want to hang out sometime? I was hoping to make new friends.”
“Sure. What’s your phone number?” Laura pulled out her phone.
“It’s 272 313-6099,” I revealed.
“Okay, got it. See you later.” Laura then walked off.

Chapter 6: First Bad Guy

June 8th arrived. The Grease City Festival was here, celebrating two hundred and thirty-one years after the city’s founding. Dad was with me, James, Jolene, Laura, and Mom. He had crutches to help walk. We all walked around Downtown Grease City.
“Glad you are out of the hospital, Dad,” James said.
“My leg should finish healing in a week,” Dad replied.
“I’m going to get a cheeseburger.” I walked to Terry’s.
A loud laugh was heard. I stopped walking and looked up into the sky. A man in a mechanical suit wearing a mask resembling a phoenix with huge mechanical wings flew by. The phoenix mask wearing man threw a gray ball near Terry’s. The ball began beeping.
“It’s a bomb,” I yelled.
The gray ball left a big explosion. Everyone in the Grease City Festival panicked and either ran away or hid.
“Grease City!” the phoenix mask wearing man yelled. “Where is Yellow Raccoon?”
I ran into an alleyway and quickly changed into my Yellow Raccoon outfit. I soon ran out in the middle of Downtown Grease City.
“Hey, man,” I shouted at the phoenix mask wearing villain. “Who are you? Evil Icarus?”
“The name is Gray Phoenix,” he said, “and you will die.”
Gray Phoenix landed on the ground.
“Okay, let’s go.” I swung the first punch.
Gray Phoenix dodged and punched me back into a window at Terry’s.
“A hell of a punch,” I commented as I got back up.
Gray Phoenix walked up to me and then swung his fist at me. I dodged and uppercutted his face, pushing him back. Gray Phoenix charged at me. I grabbed him and threw him onto the sidewalk. He turned towards me. Blood began dropping out of his mask.
“You win.” Gray Phoenix threw his bomb on the ground. “We’ll meet again!”
Smoke came out of the bomb. Gray Phoenix’s laugh was heard. As the smoke cleared, Gray Phoenix was gone. Jefferson walked up to me.
“What the hell happened?” he asked.
“He calls himself ‘Gray Phoenix’, and has mechanical wings,” I said. “Looks like we have a threat to Grease City.”
I shot my grapple gun at the top of Ditko’s Apartments. The hook catched onto the building. I flew off as I held the grapple gun. I grabbed and pushed myself onto the building.
“Fought your first villain,” a familiar voice said.
I turned around and saw Lucas in his hero outfit.
“White Archer,” I said.
“I saw how you fought,” Lucas said. “I’m impressed. I was about to take care of it.”
“I just wanted to have a normal day. No villains.”
“A hero can’t rest, dude. They fight until crime is no more.”
“I never thought being a hero was hard.”
“Well, I got to head home – you should, too.”
Lucas then jumped off the building. I ran over to the edge of the building and looked over. He was gone.
“What an exit,” I commented.

Three days had passed. Dinner smelled good. I smelled it from downstairs in my room. It was chicken enchiladas, my favorite. Dad was cooking dinner. He learned how to make chicken enchiladas from his mother. Mom then walked into my room.
“Arlington Starling, my client, is coming over for dinner,” she said.
“The head of Starling Industries is coming over?” I replied.
The doorbell then ranged.
“That’s him,” Mom said.
Mom ran downstairs and opened the door. Starling had glasses and brown hair.
“Ah, Mrs. Fairon, hi,” Starling said.
I then walked downstairs.
“Mr. Starling, hello.” I shook his hand.
“Lisa has told me about you and your brother,” Starling said as he then walked in the kitchen. “Hello, Mike.”
“Hey,” Dad said, “congratulations on the court case about your now ex-wife.”
“Thank you,” Starling said.
I then walked into the kitchen.
“I can’t believe the head of Starling Industries is at our house,” I commented.
“You remind me of my son,” Starling replied. “He is your age. Just graduated from Daryl Oates High School.”
Mom, Dad, James, Starling, and I sat at the dining room table with their dinner.
“Have you heard of the Gray Phoenix attacking the Grease City Festival?” Dad asked Starling.
“It is unbelievable and unexpected,” Starling said.
“He almost killed me,” I told him.
“We live in Grease City,” James stated. “Crime happens all the time.”
Everyone then started eating dinner.

Chapter 7: An Interview At Starling Industries

I was driving to Starling Industries near Darin Beach. The building had fifteen floors. I parked in the parking lot and got out of my car. Starling Industries had a lot of scientists from what I saw. I walked inside the building and up to the front desk.
“Hello, I’m here for an interview for Arlington Starling,” I said.
“He’s been waiting for you, Mr. Fairon,” the security guard at the front desk replied. “Floor fifteen.”
I then walked to the elevator and pushed the button to the fifteenth floor.

I arrived at the fifteenth floor. I walked out of the elevator and up to Starling’s desk.
“Andrew, hello,” he said cheerfully.
“Hello, I’m here for the interview,” I said. “I’ll be asking three questions.”
I pulled out my notebook and sat on a chair.
“Okay, ask me your questions,” Starling demanded.
“How did you start this company?”
“I enjoyed technology and science as a kid. I graduated from John Hall University at the age of twenty-two in 1988. When I founded this company in 1989, the U.S. military asked for advanced technology.”
“How did you get to where you are right now?”
“I invested in what I love to do. I was an assistant for many scientists.”
“Last question – what advice do you want to give people that want to be geniuses?”
“Uh…well, whatever you are into, see it as a passion. A gift to be exact.”
I then got up from the chair.
“I think we are done here,” I said. “See you. Have a good day.”
“You too,” Starling replied.
I walked into the elevator and pushed the button to the first floor.

The elevator then stopped at the fourteenth floor. A scientist then walked in and pushed the button to the twelfth floor.
“Are you the reporter?” she asked.
“Yeah, I just finished the interview,” I answered.
The elevator then stopped at the twelfth floor. On this floor were mechanical wings and little jet packs on a desk. The scientist then walked out of the elevator. The elevator doors then closed.
“I think I have a lead,” I muttered.

Chapter 8: Let’s Do This Like James Bond

It was 12:00 AM. I walked on the left side of the building. I picked up a rock and threw it at the security camera. I lockpicked the backdoor and got inside the building. I walked up the stairs to the twelfth floor.
I arrived on the floor six minutes later. A guard was walking by. I ran into a room and hid behind a desk. The guard went to the elevator. The elevator doors then closed. I turned on a flashlight and went through the top left drawer. I found a document and read it.

May 21st, 2021. This log is coming from Dr. Ferdinand. Dr. Starling was ordered by the U.S. military to begin Project Harpy.

May 27th, 2021. Project Harpy is nearing completion. Dr. Starling insisted on injecting the test pilots with an immune serum.

June 2nd, 2021. Dr. Starling insisted on being the first test subject. I injected him with the immune serum. He began having mental breakdowns. His wife Catherine plans on suing him for being abusive to his own son, John. He threatened John to lie at the court case, without the lawyer knowing.

My god, I thought, I need to get these to the public.
I folded the documents into squares and put them in my left jacket pocket. The elevator dinged. I hid behind the desk again. The elevator doors opened. Starling walked by.
“Hello, Gray Phoenix,” he said to his suit. “Let’s cause some destruction.”
I got out from behind the desk and ran towards Starling.
“Don’t!” I yelled.
“How did you get in the building?” Starling asked.
“A raccoon has his ways,” I replied. “Don’t do it. Turn yourself in.”
Starling punched me in the face. I put my hands over my face. Starling quickly put his phoenix mask and jetpack with wings on. He jumped out of the window and activated his jetpack, flying into downtown.
“I’ll take the stairs,” I said.

Chapter 9: It’s The Final Showdown

I arrived in Downtown Grease City. I was relieved not to see Starling anywhere yet.
“Yellow R.” A woman ran up to me. “Have you seen my baby? His name is Cain.”
A laugh was heard. I looked up. Starling was on top of Taylor Press. He was holding a baby.
“Yellow Raccoon!” he yelled out loud.
I pulled out my grapple gun and shot it. The hook catched the top of the building. I grabbed the edge and pulled myself up.
“Gary Phoenix, don’t do this,” I demanded.
“Catch the baby.” Starling threw the baby off the building.
I jumped and dived to the baby. I grabbed the baby and shot the grapple gun at the building. The hook catched the top of the building again. The baby and I were three floors away from the ground.
“The grapple is slowly taking us down,” I said.
“Time to die,” Starling yelled.
Starling started flying right towards me. A crowbar was thrown at him. He missed and flew past me. Everyone in Downtown Grease City started throwing stuff at Starling.
“Hey, leave him alone,” a man yelled. “He’s trying to save a baby!”
“You mess with Yellow Raccoon, you mess with Grease City!” a woman yelled.
Someone threw a rock in Starling’s jetpack. The jetpack malfunctioned. Starling crash-landed on the ground. I safely landed on the ground. The woman ran up to me. I handed the woman’s baby to her.
“Oh, my God, Cain,” the woman cried. “Thank you, Yellow Raccoon.”
The baby was in perfect condition.
“Yellow Raccoon, you’re dead,” Starling shouted.
He got back up. He and I walked towards each other.
“People will fear people like us, people who want respect and rewards,” he then said.
“That reminds me of something someone told me,” I said. “A hero may not get what he deserves, even after stopping a serious problem, but heroes like me don’t ask for much. No reward. No reputation. You keep fighting for those who need help.”
Starling then swung at me. I dodged and punched him in the stomach and then the face. Starling then punched me in the face. He swung at me for the third time. I grabbed his arm and punched him again. Starling fell onto the ground. Police officers ran towards Starling. They took off his mask. Everyone was shocked to see him revealed as Gray Phoenix.
“Yellow Raccoon.” Jefferson walked up to me. “How can a popular guy become a villain?”
I handed the documents to Jefferson. “These will answer your problems.”
I then walked off as Starling was put in a police car.

Chapter 10: Time To Have My Independence

I was moving out. It had been a month since I fought Starling. James and I were putting some boxes of my stuff in my car.
“Can’t believe you’re moving out,” James said.
“Yeah, I know,” I replied. “I’m moving to Ditko’s Apartments. Rent is cheap there.”
“I also can’t believe Arlington Starling was Gray Phoenix.”
“Yeah, the S.N.O. put him in an advanced prison called Svartalfheim Prison in Scotland.”
I then got in my car and drove off. I looked at my left rear view mirror. James was crying. I stopped at a red light and pulled out my phone. I called James. He then answered.
“I saw you crying,” I said.
“I wasn’t,” James said on the phone. “Something was in my eyes.”
“Sure. Tell you what…you can ride your new bike to my place anytime you want. You can even stay if you want to hang out with your brother.”
“Okay.” James started sobbing. “You’re the best damn brother in the world.”
I then started crying. “You are as well. You’re making me cry. You have helped me out through everything I’ve been through.”
“Take care, man.”
James then hung up as I entered Downtown Grease City.

I arrived at Ditko’s Apartments. I walked up to the front desk.
“I’m here for my new apartment,” I told the manager. “Name is Andrew Fairon.”
“Follow me, lad,” the manager said as he got up.
I followed the manager. We walked up the stairs to the third floor. We arrived at room 3B.
“This is your room.” The manager gave a key to me. “Pay your rent once a month.”
“Okay,” I said as I entered my apartment. “Well, time to unpack my stuff.”
It took me twenty minutes to take all the boxes out of the car and to my apartment. Gunshots and screams were heard outside. I quickly changed into my hero outfit. I went outside through the window. I shot my grapple gun at a building and swung into the chaos as the one and only Yellow Raccoon.

Chapter 11: Is This Like A Post-Credit Scene?

December was here. It was a snowy day in Grease City. I was now nineteen. I was with James Jolene in my apartment. She wanted me and James to check her blood sample. James looked at her blood sample through the microscope.
“So, what’s wrong with me?” Jolene asked worryingly.
“There are orange spots,” James answered as he looked at Jolene.
“How long have you been feeling…weird?” I asked.
“After James’ sixteenth birthday party at Tobias’ Corner,” she answered. “My parents told me that we’ve inherited it since World War Two.”
I accidently knocked an empty soda can off the table. I then blinked. Jolene was now holding the empty can in her hand.
“How did you get that so fast?” I asked.
“I…went fast,” Jolene just said.
“Andrew Fairon,” a voice called out.
A superhero-dressed man walked into my apartment through my window. The man’s helmet resembled that of an eagle.
“I need to get a lock for that window,” I commented.
“I’m Jack Shuster, also known as Independent Eagle,” the man said.
I was shocked to see Jack in my apartment. Dad told me about him. His great-grandfather fought in World War Two as the original Commander Eagle.
“What are you doing here from Arlington Bay, New York?” Jolene asked.
“I need the Yellow Raccoon’s help,” Jack revealed.
“Why me?” I asked.
“There’s a threat on our way,” he replied.
“Wait, you’re Yellow Raccoon?” Jolene excitedly questioned me.
“Yes,” James and I replied.

Valkyrie Squadron: The Box of Anubis

Chapter 1

Egypt was filled with Germans and Italians. The Second World War began three years ago with Germans invading Poland. Four people riding camels arrived in Cairo and stopped at a bar. They headed inside and saw a German soldier drinking.
“Hey, you four,” the drunk German soldier shouted. “Identify yourself!”
“Sit back down, lad,” the person with glasses demanded.
“Ay, ‘lad’…don’t talk to me like that!” The German soldier then pulled out his pistol. “I ought to…”
The blonde woman shot the German soldier. The bartender ducked behind the bar table.
“Damn it, Dodie, I had him,” the Scottish man with glasses said.
“What were you going to do, John?” Dodie asked. “Talk your way out of this? You do like to flirt with women.”
The bartender peeked his head out.
“Stoker, calm him down,” Dodie commanded.
“Are you okay?” Stoker walked up to the bartender. “We are here to meet someone named George Sapkowski.”
“He’s…in the back.” The bartender pointed at the back door. “Are you the Valkyrie Squadron?”
“Yes, sir,” John responded.
The Valkyrie Squadron headed to the back room and met Sapkowski.
“Who are you four?” he asked.
“I’m John Doyle. These are Dodie Tolkien, Rick Clancy, and Thomas Stoker. We are the Valkyrie Squadron. Are you our contact?”
“That would be me.” Sapkowski turned on the projector. “So…you are the Valkyrie Squadron. Now…we are here to stop this man, Nazi general Johann Puckler.
The projector showed a picture of a man in his fifties wearing a high ranked German uniform.
“Nice chin,” Rick commented.
The projector filled, revealing Puckler and a German scientist with glasses.
“Alongside German scientist Alexander Hertzog, Puckler joined the Nazi Party in ‘36 and then the Afrika Korps last year.” Sapkowski was drinking a cup of tea. “They are at a tomb two hours away from Cairo.”
The projector filled again, revealing a picture of a tomb.
“This is the Tomb of Anubis,” Sapkowski revealed. “It is rumored that the Egyptian god of death, Anubis, created a box almost five thousand years ago. We will head to the tomb tonight. That is when Puckler arrives in Cairo.”
“How are we going to get in?” Clancy asked.
“We’ll need a disguise,” Dodie answered as she pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

Chapter 2

It was 6 PM. Valkyrie Squadron and Sapkowski arrived at another bar. There were twenty people in total including the three waitresses and three bartenders. The five then sat at a table.
“What can I get you?” One waitress walked up to Valkyrie Squadron’s table.
“We’ll take some tea,” John said. “Oh, and a date, sweetheart.”
“No, thanks,” the waitress replied as she walked away with their order.
“Ha, nice, love,” Dodie commented. “I’ll give you tips on women. Not.”
Sapkowski looked out the window and saw German vehicles pulling up. One of them, a Mercedes-Benz 770, was the vehicle that Puckler was in.
“Don’t freak out now,” Sapkowski whispered. “Our guests are here.”
Puckler and twelve of his German soldiers headed inside the bar. Everyone stayed silent. Puckler walked up to the bartender.
“I’ll take some whiskey,” he demanded with his German accent.
The bartender pulled out a shot glass and a bottle of whiskey. He accidently spilled the bottle. The whiskey landed on Puckler’s boots. He grabbed the bartender’s shirt.
“These were my favorite boots,” he angrily said. “I oughta use you for Projekt Darkness.”
“Please, General Puckler, don’t hurt me,” the bartender said in fear.
“Last chance. Give me a whiskey.”
Puckler let go off the bartender’s shirt. The bartender poured a shot of whiskey. Puckler drinked it and walked off.
“You both.” Puckler pointed at two German soldiers and headed out of the bar. “Stay here in this bar.”
Valkyrie Squadron looked outside. Two trucks and the Mercedes-Benz drove off.
“Alright, we’ll take out two of those soldiers and steal their outfits,” Clancy whispered.
“Was geht hier vor sich?” One German soldier walked over to Valkyrie Squadron’s table.
“Burn in Hell,” Clancy replied in German. “Dummkopf.”
“We have an idiot in a bar,” the German soldier called out in German, attracting the other soldier’s attention.
“This guy?” the other soldier asked. “Der mit dem Schnurrbart?”
“Ja.”
“Let’s take this outside, you two.” Clancy got up and walked outside.
The two German soldiers walked outside soon after. Valkyrie Squadron and Sapkowski watched the fight outside. Clancy punched the first German soldier in the throat and the other in the face. He then grabbed a brick and knocked them both out.
Valkyrie Squadron and Sapkowski walked outside.
“Now we have disguises,” Clancy said.

Chapter 3

John and Clancy grabbed the German uniforms and quickly put them on. Dodie, Stoker, and Sapkowski hopped into the back of the truck.
“Clancy, you never told us you knew German,” John said.
“My grandmother was German and Jewish,” Clancy replied. “She moved to America before my mother was born.”
Stoker then picked up a grenade. “I’ll take this.”
“Everyone, stay silent in the back until we are in the clear at the tomb,” Sapkowski said in the back of the truck.
John hopped into the driver seat while Clancy hopped into the passenger seat.

It was now 8 PM. Valkyrie Squadron arrived at the Tomb of Anubis by truck.
A German soldier walked up to the truck. “Name?”
“Stahl,” John answered.
“Kruger,” Clancy then answered.
“Get to your posts,” the soldier commanded.
“Danke schon,” Clancy replied.
Clancy stopped the truck near the tomb. Valkyrie Squadron got out of the vehicle. Clancy and John changed back into their normal outfits.
“Here comes Puckler,” Sapkowski said quietly.
The Valkyrie Squadron hid in the truck. Puckler walked by.
Sapkowski peeked. “Okay, he’s gone. We’ll split into groups. Stoker, you’re with me. You other three, explore the tomb as well.”
There were two halls inside the tomb. Clancy, John, and Dodie went left while Stoker and Sapkowski went right.

Chapter 4

Clancy, John, and Dodie stumbled upon a room filled with gold cups, gold armor, and gold swords.
“Are the Germans wanting to be the richest party in the world?” Clancy asked.
John found a torn piece of paper on the ground.

May 12th, 1942. My name is Doctor Alexander Hertzog. I have been at the Egyptian tomb for a year now, and I still do not know how to unleash the power from the “Box of Anubis” as it is called. The Fuhrer will be pleased if the legends of its powers are true: to raise the dead.

“They aren’t being rich, lad,” John said. “They are raising the undead.”
“Undead?” Dodie questioned. “That is unbelievable.”
“This page is from the diary of Doctor Hertzog.” John walked up to Dodie with the page. “The Box of Anubis! Anubis is the Egyptian god of the dead! Do you not remember that?”
Clancy walked up to John. “Look. It’s just a myth; the Germans are stupid. They stole the Spear of Destiny in France, because it was used to pierce Jesus Christ himself!”
“Clancy, lad! That is Christianity; this is Egyptian! The world is about to have a war with Germans and the undead! If we don’t stop them nor seal off the tomb to where no one can get in, they will release an army onto Europe and maybe even America!”
“You dummkopfs aren’t going anywhere,” a voice called out.
Clancy, John, and Dodie turned around and saw Puckler, Hertzog, and a group of German soldiers.

Chapter 5

Clancy, John, and Dodie were held captive by German soldiers.
“The Valkyrie Squadron are so stupid, thinking you can stop us,” Puckler said. “This is great. Valkyrie Squadron is here to see this! Once we open this box, the undead will truly ravage the world.”
“You’re crazy, lad,” John yelled.
“Open the box,” Puckler commanded in German.
The German soldiers walked up to the Box of Anubis. Suddenly, a gunshot went off. One German soldier was seen dead on the ground.
“Yeah,” Stoker yelled.
Stoker and Sapkowski were hiding behind an ancient coffin.
“Get up here,” Sapkowski shouted at Clancy, John, and Dodie.
Clancy grabbed an MP40 and got behind cover at the right hall. John and Dodie grabbed pistols and got behind cover at the left hall.
“You will not stop me!” Puckler yelled as he and Hertzog opened the Box of Anubis.
A bright light was shining. The corpses in the tomb all rose and roared.
“Yes, I will be…” Puckler was then bitten on the arm. “Ah, mein arm! Mein Gott!”
The resurrected corpses began ripping Puckler limb from limb as he began screaming. Hertzog was next; his head was taken off by the undead.
“Moj Boze,” Sapkowski said in Polish.
John, Clancy, and Dodie ran towards Sapkowski and Stoker.
“Stoker, do you have that grenade?” John asked.
“Yeah, why?”
Valkyrie Squadron ran outside of the tomb. Stoker threw the grenade in the tomb. The tomb began crumbling. The giant rocks blocked the entrance.
“Ah, that’s over,” Dodie said. “What’s that over there?”
The Valkyrie Squadron saw a couple of trucks heading towards them. They arrived. British troops ran up to them.
“Captain Thompson,” John said. “What are y’all doing here?”
“We were heading to El Alamein. We heard an explosion and drove over here. We’ll give you a drive to our camp.”
“Thanks,” Stoker said.
Valkyrie Squadron headed to the back of one of the trucks. The driver drove them to one of their British camps.

Necromancy

Chapter 1

I usually do not talk about my personal life. I just mind my own business, but what happened to me when I was seventeen traumatized me for eternity.
My name is Stephen Stoker. I live in Vulture Town, Texas. This is my experience with the paranormal at a school.
I woke up when my alarm went off. It was Friday. As I put on my favorite Superman shirt, my fifteen year old sister Mary opened my door.
“Breakfast is ready,” she said.
I walked downstairs fully dressed and found my parents and Mary in the kitchen. Mom was making pancakes. Dad was sitting at the table and eating eggs and bacon. I went to the pantry and grabbed a cereal box of Lucky Charms.
“Who are the pancakes for?” I asked Mom.
“For me,” she answered.
I went to the fridge and grabbed a carton of milk. I sat down at the table and poured myself a bowl of cereal. I usually pour the cereal first and then the milk.
“Any plans this spring break?” I asked Dad.
“No, we are just relaxing this spring break,” he answered.
I ate my cereal very fast. I looked at my phone to check the time. It was 7:30 AM.
“Mary and I got to go,” I told my parents. “Love you, Mom. Love you, Dad.”
“Have a good day at school, you two,” Mom said.
Mary and I got up and walked out the front door. I put my headphones on my ears as we walked towards the bus stop.
“Hey, guys,” a voice said far away.
Mary and I turned around and saw Scott G. Wells running towards us.
“Scott,” I yelled out.
“Are you ready for spring break, my man?” he asked.
“We are,” I said.

Scott, Mary, and I arrived at our bus stop ten minutes later. My other friend Sofia Martin was at the bus stop.
“Sofia,” I shouted.
“Stephen, hi,” she said.
The bus then arrived. Scott, Mary, Sofia, and I got on the bus.

Chapter 2

Eric Oyster High School was thirteen minutes away by bus from my bus stop. My friends and I arrived at 7:53. We walked out of the bus and headed inside the school.
“I’m going to head to my first period,” Mary said as she walked off.
“She’s obviously going to see her boyfriend,” Scott told me and Sofia. “They have been dating for three months.”
Sofia rolled her eyes at Scott as I just laughed at what he said.
“You’re just jealous of her boyfriend who has a girlfriend,” Sofia told Scott. “Go get one.”
“Whatever,” I said. “Come on, guys. We’ll be late for our first period.”

Scott, Sofia, and I arrived at our first period, which was science. Our teacher, Mrs. Wrisley, walked up to the board.
“Okay, class, we will learn nothing,” she said. “If anyone has any work missing, please complete it.”
Wrisley sat back down at her desk.
“Hey, Stephen, have you ever heard of the rumors in this school?” Sofia asked.
“No,” I replied.
“I’ve heard rumors that this school is haunted by night,” Sofia whispered.
“Are you serious?” I said while laughing.
“I am.” Sofia looked at me dead in the eyes. “People are saying that people worship a deity, and that ghosts fly around the school.”
“I doubt it,” I commented.
“Look, this weekend, we are sneaking into the school at night,” Sofia said.
“Fine,” I said. “If you are wrong, you owe me a free dinner at the arcade.”

Chapter 3

Once school ended, spring break had arrived. Mary, Scott, Sofia, and I walked to our bus at the side of the school. I sat next to Sofia. Scott was reading Stephen King’s Carrie and sat right next to Mary.
“Are we still doing it?” Mary asked me.
“Hell yeah, we are,” I said.

Mary, Scott, Sofia, and I arrived at our neighborhood at 4:43 PM. As we walked back to my house, Scott finished reading Carrie.
“Yo, one thing that is different from the novel and the 1976 film is that Carrie’s mom died when Carrie stopped her heart from functioning in the novel,” Scott said to me.
Mary, Scott, Sofia, and I arrived at my house at 4:53 PM. My parents saw Scott and Sofia.
“Hi, Sofia,” Mom said.
“Hi, Mrs. Stoker,” she replied.
“Dad, is it okay if we go to the arcade this Sunday?” I asked.
“Sure,” he said.
Scott, Sofia, and I walked upstairs to my room. Scott and Sofia sat on my couch as I turned on my Xbox One. We started playing Mortal Kombat 11.
“So, what’s the plan?” Sofia asked me.
I told her, “We will go to the arcade, which is five minutes away from the school, and then head to Eric Oyster High when my dad leaves.”

Chapter 4

Sunday arrived. Dad dropped me, Scott, Sofia, Mary, and her boyfriend Wyatt off at The Arcade.
“Text me when you want to be picked up,” Dad said.
“Okay,” I told him as he drove off.
“Before we go, is anyone hungry?” Scott asked.
“Uh, a little bit,” Wyatt said.
“Why did we bring him?” Sofia whispered to me.
“So Mary wouldn’t tell our parents,” I quietly replied.
Mary, Scott, Sofia, Wyatt, and I walked in the arcade and sat at a table. A waitress arrived at our table.
“What would y’all like?” she asked.
“We’ll take a large pepperoni pizza.” I gave a twenty dollar bill to the waitress.
“What time is your dad picking us up?” Scott asked.
“10:45 PM, so we have four hours,” I said.

Twenty minutes had passed. The five of us arrived at the high school. The doors were seen wide open.
“Why are the doors open?” Wyatt asked.
Mary, Scott, Sofia, Wyatt, and I walked inside the school. We split up into two groups.
“Mary, Wyatt, y’all are with me,” Sofia said. “We will text you two when we find something.”
“I guess it’s just you and me, Scott,” I said.
Mary, Sofia, and Wyatt went to room 104.

Chapter 5

Scott and I went to the principal’s office.
“This was once the office of Eric Oyster,” Scott commented. “He became the first principal when this school was established back in 1927.”
I looked through the drawers from the desk and found a piece of paper. I began reading it.

April 3rd, 1985. The ritual in the basement was successful. We used a student for the sacrifice to the goddess Melinoe. With this many souls in the amulet, the high school is now haunted by night.

“Who is Melinoe?” I questioned.
“She is the goddess of ghosts and the daughter of Persephone, queen of the Underworld,” Scott revealed. “Her stepfather is Hades.”
A door shutting was heard outside. A silhouette of a man in the window of the door was seen.
“Hide,” Scott whispered.
Scott and I ran to a cabinet and hid. Two bearded men walked in the office.
“I thought I heard someone in here,” one man said.
“Whatever, come on,” the other man replied. “We need to prepare for the ritual.”
The two men walked out of the office. Scott and I stepped out of the cabinet.
“I think it’s safe,” I said. “We need to get Mary, Sofia, and Wyatt.”
Scott and I walked out of the office and ran into a woman with brown curly hair wearing a denim jacket.
“Please don’t hurt us,” Scott said.
“Hurt you?” she repeated. “I’m here to wander around the school.”
“Who are you?” I asked.
“Samantha Dahl,” she said, “but people call me ‘Sam’.”
“We were just getting our friends in room 104,” I said.
“Room 104?” Sam questioned. “We need to get them out of there!”

Chapter 6

Scott, Sam, and I ran to room 104. By the time they arrived, the door shut in their faces.
“Sofia, Mary, Wyatt!” I quietly yelled.
Mary, Sofia, and Wyatt struggled to open the door. Scott, Sam, and I looked through the window.
“Find something to break the door,” Sam said to Scott.
A headless corpse emerged from behind the desk. The corpse was carrying its decapitated head with very white eyes.
“Mr. Ivring’s class is now in session,” the head said.
Scott grabbed a fire extinguisher and bashed the door handle off, breaking the door. The door opened. Mary, Sofia, and Wyatt ran out. The headless corpse charged at us, but soon disappeared.
“Who’s there?” a voice called out.
“Hide,” Sam whispered.
Mary, Scott, Sofia, Wyatt, Sam, and I ran to the janitor’s closet. The door was left cracked open.
“Ah, the door to room 104 is broken,” one man said.
“Isn’t this Mr. Irving’s classroom?” another man asked.
“Yeah, he began working here in 1943,” the other man answered. “By 1946, he was decapitated in a car accident. People in the cult are saying that his soul was later trapped in his class.”
The two men walked past the janitor’s closet and went to the right hallway.
“I think they are gone,” Wyatt whispered.
The six of us ran towards the library.

Chapter 7

Mary, Scott, Sofia, Wyatt, Sam, and I arrived in the library. Mary, Scott, and Sofia went to the computer lab. Wyatt, Sam, and I walked to the novel section.
“Uh, so, Wyatt,” I muttered. “What do you like about my sister?”
“She’s nice,” Wyatt said.
“Not to me,” I commented.
“She is smart,” he then added.
Humming was soon heard. The three of us turned around and saw a pale-skinned librarian looking down. She was twitching violently.
“Uh, hi?” Wyatt said.
“Get down!” Sam pushed me and Wyatt down to the ground.
A pair of scissors flew by us. The librarian looked up, revealing a scar on her forehead.
“No yelling in the library,” she said.
Wyatt, Sam, and I ran towards the computer lab and shutted the door. Mary, Scott, and Sofia ran up to us.
“What’s going on?” Mary asked.
“Hide,” Wyatt said.
The six of us hid under the table as the librarian walked around the computer lab. Sam stood next to me. I noticed a scar on the side of her face. The librarian walked out of the computer lab. Doors to the library were heard opening.
“I heard a yell in here,” one man said.
“Dude, I don’t want to be here,” the other man commented. “Mrs. Gretel was murdered in this library in 1958. Her spirit is going to kill us.”
“Whatever, it might be her yelling,” the man replied. “We have to get to the basement. The ritual will start soon.”
“I was right, Stoker,” Sofia whispered.
“We have to stop them,” Sam said.

Chapter 8

The six of us followed the two men walking in the hallway. We hid behind the vending machine as they stopped near the cafeteria. They pushed a wall, revealing a secret door. The two men walked in the room and closed the door.
“Let’s go,” Sam said.
She pushed the secret door. The six of us walked into the room and down the stairs. We saw a large drawn circle and an amulet on the wall.
“That must be the amulet they were talking about,” Scott said.
A door opened. Out came eleven men.
“Hey, what are you five doing here?” one man yelled.
“Five?” Wyatt questioned.
A man was behind me and knocked me out.

I woke up and found my left hand tied to a wall.
“Stephen!” Scott had his left hand also tied to a wall.
Sofia, Mary, and Wyatt were seen with their left hands also tied to the wall.
“What are they going to do to us?” I asked.
“Use you five as a sacrifice,” Sam said.
“Sam!” I yelled.
“What did the other man mean by ‘five of us’?” Wyatt asked her.
“I am a ghost determined to stop them from their rituals,” she revealed. “I was their third and final sacrifice in 1985. They kidnapped me and killed me. The goddess they worship is Melinoe. The amulet they use was created three thousand years ago by the goddess herself.”
Sam’s hand passed through my arm. Three men walked up to us and untied our hands.
“Master Ronald Oyster wants to see you five,” one man said.
“Oyster?” I repeated.

Chapter 9

The cult members pushed five of us in the same room. We found ourselves face to face with a bearded man in his forties.
“I see that you have found the basement,” he said.
“You must be Ronald Oyster,” I told him.
“Yes,” he replied. “My great-grandfather founded this school a hundred years ago. He was a fan of witchcraft, so he found the Amulet of Melinoe in Greece.”
Ronald grabbed the amulet and put it in front of my face. I kicked him in the leg, causing him to drop the amulet. I untied Mary, Scott, Sofia, and Wyatt. Sofia threw a lantern at the amulet. Ghosts flew out of the amulet.
“No!” Ronald yelled. “How could you? The amulet is destroyed!”
Everything was then caught on fire. The five of us ran out of the basement. Wyatt and I blocked the secret door.
“Get something to block this!” Wyatt yelled.
Smoke came out of the door. Mary, Scott, and Sofia pushed a bench in the hallway towards us.
“Move,” Mary said.
Wyatt and I got out of the way. We all ran outside of the school. Police cars pulled up.
“What are you kids doing?” one officer asked.
“There’s a cult in the school,” I said.
Another officer walked inside.
“Do y’all have any of your parents’ phone numbers?” the officer in front of us asked.
“We will call my parents,” I said.

Moments went by. My parents arrived and ran up to us. Ronald and his cult friends were arrested.
“Mary, Stephen,” Mom yelled. “Oh, my God. Why do this?”
“You and your sister are both grounded for one week,” Dad said.
The nightmare was over as we all drove away from the school.

2022-23 Innovate Winners

Innovate is honored to announce ACC’s 2022-23 winners of the League for Innovation Student Literary Award.

Short Stories

1st Place: “Necromancy” by Seth Maloney
2nd Place: “Valkyrie Squadron: The Box of Anubis” by Seth Maloney
3rd Place: “Yellow Raccoon: Very Mellow” by Seth Maloney

Honorable Mention Short Stories

Mirror, Mirror” by Joshua Wagner

Poetry

1st Place: “The Next Morning In Fruita” by Shannon Williams
2nd Place: “The Man with the Gun (Inspired by the movie American Son)” by Brandon Clear
3rd Place: “my heart is a jar of worms at my friend hannah’s birthday party, 2009” by Daniel Walton

Honorable Mention

The Color of Helpless” by Shannon Williams
Kari” by Zebedee Arshad
Forgive Him” by Katheryn Pharr


First place winners in Short Story and Poetry will compete with community college students across the nation for cash prizes. Winners will be published in the League’s Literary Journal. We wish Seth and Shannon luck in the national competition!


Congratulations to our winners! Thanks to the creative team behind Innovate (especially Ysella Fulton Slavin and Wade Allen) and to our panel of readers. Most of all, thanks to our talented students!