Here's the thing. I love Nezmyth. I love the world that's been created here... but I've actually been working on a different project for the past month. It's called "My Name Is Hammerfist."
It's a superhero story! But it's more on the fun side and doesn't take itself too seriously. It's a series I'm going to make available on the Amazon Kindle store for $0.99 an episode. I hope to release a new episode every month, and over time, compile the episodes into collections that will then be published in paperback.
Guys. I'm so excited about this. Like, so excited that it's almost obnoxious.
From this point, I'll likely be updating my writings through my main blog, but until then, I'd like to share with you a taste of the first volume of "My Name Is Hammerfist!" I'll post the same tidbit on my main blog as well.
Enjoy! :D
I
know it’s lame, but this whole story started because of donuts. Freaking
donuts. Of all things.
If
you had tasted these donuts, though, you would probably know where I’m coming
from. Zeke’s Grub has the best snack food hands-down in the town where I’m
from—which is called Gladview, by the way. It’s funny that they call it
Gladview because you can barely see anything and it made me anything but
glad. It’s a tumor of a town that’s bunched together in the middle of
forest, so I spent a lot of my childhood fighting off ticks and angry squirrels
when I was out playing in the trees. But that’s beside the point.
I
wanted to drive home for the weekend so I could get some of those killer donuts
at Zeke’s Grub. I was just into my first semester at Carus Community
College in Citytown, so I was feeling just a little homesick anyway. I
graduated from high school with an astoundingly bland GPA not long before, but
luckily Carus had open enrollment and it wasn’t too far away from home. That
made my decision to move there easy. Besides, I had no idea what I wanted
to study and it seemed like a good idea to go there and get my general eds
knocked out of the way.
But
again, I’m getting sidetracked. Oh jeez! I didn’t even tell you my name!
I’m
Herman Fitzgerald the third. Not exactly the most intimidating name, but I’m
not exactly the most intimidating person—the last guy you’d expect to replace
his prosthetic hand with a hammer and go beat bad guys in the middle of the
night. I like cheese crackers, action movies, most of my jeans are ripped in
the knees and I wear a size medium t-shirt. I also have plenty of acne scars,
messy black hair and crappy brown eyes. Yeah. Kind of an average guy, but I’m
cool with that. Aren’t good stories about average people who deal with
crazy circumstances anyway?
So
let’s get back to how this all began.
“We
can pay you for gas once you get home!” My mom lovingly said on the other end
of the phone.
“That
would actually be awesome,” I replied thankfully.
“I
know you’re driving late, so just be careful,” she continued. “There are a lot
of deer that like to hop into the middle of the road when it’s dark.”
“I
know, mom.”
I
was leaning with my back against my car, my eyes scanning the buildings around
me. I was living in some off-campus apartments just a few minutes away
from Carus. The skyscrapers of downtown Citytown weren’t too far away, but in
the immediate area, I was surrounded by red brick apartment buildings that had
to have been built in the sixties. Cars sped through the traffic light at
the corner and occasionally honked at each other. Across the street in
another parking lot, a couple was making out against the side of a truck, some
guys in tank tops were walking together laughing, and some overly-giggly girls
were staring at them not far away. I exhaled and rolled my eyes, my
thoughts completely occupied with savory, scrumptious donuts.
“Have
you had dinner yet?” my mom asked. She worries about me all the time.
“I
had a sandwich,” I told her. “And I’m going to stop by Zeke’s on the way home.”
“Oh,
that will be so nice!” she said. “Could you pick me up a Mega Choco-Blast while
you’re there?”
“Sure,
mom.”
“Okay!
Love you! Your father is excited to see you, too! See you in a few hours!”
I
clicked the hang-up icon on my phone and pocketed it. My apartment was locked
and I had just a few things packed in my car to make for a comfortable weekend
stay with my parents. I hung around outside my car for just a minute
longer, looking around and soaking up my surroundings.
A lot of people from the
boonies can’t stand the city. I’m the opposite. I love Citytown. Sure, people
here are a little busy and can be kind of rude sometimes, but there’s always
something happening. There’s more opportunity. There’s more of, well…
everything. It’s dirty and loud and crowded, but I love it.
I took a deep, smoggy
breath, pulled open my car door and slipped inside. My beat-up sedan from the
nineties belched and churned as I turned the key and managed to back out of its
parking space without a problem. The last thing I did was check my tires
and fill up at a nearby gas station before I hopped on the interstate heading
out of Citytown.
Billboards
for restaurants, movie theaters and casinos crawled passed me as my car cruised
along the freeway, joined with dozens of other cars like fast-moving ants along
pavement. I turned on the radio, but didn’t listen for long after they played a
crappy electro-pop song that kept saying “pump up the jams tonight baby.”
When I changed the station, the same song was playing. I changed the
station again, and again it was playing the same song. When I changed the
station another time, it was in the middle of a commercial… then that same song
came on again. Click. Silence. Thank
you.
After
several minutes, the urban landscape of Citytown evaporated to smaller towns,
which then evaporated to even smaller towns. Trees became more plentiful to the
point where the freeway started to cut through a forest. I started seeing more
churches than I did warehouses and more quaint markets than superstores, which
was a sure sign that home was getting close. The sun had dipped over the
horizon and now the red glow of rear car lights were like angry ghost eyes
glaring at me down the road. I signaled and took an exit that turned into
the road heading to Gladview.
I’m
not going to lie, the drive to Gladview is pretty scenic during the day when
you get off the freeway. It’s a narrow two-lane road that winds through a
forest, and occasionally the view will break out into clearings or ponds. On
any weekend, you could drive down this road and see Citytown photographers park
their cars to get out to snap some shots. On a road trip when I was younger, I
lit a firecracker and threw it out the window at one of these photographers. It
missed the photographer by a longshot, but instead landed by a squirrel who was
scavenging for some nuts. I swear I saw that squirrel crap itself and tear off
when that firecracker exploded. Freaking squirrel. I hate squirrels.
At
night, though, the drive to Gladview isn’t as scenic. It’s actually pretty
creepy. If you’ve ever driven through a foggy forest at night before, you know
what it feels like. You almost expect some crazy chainsaw guy to jump out at
you from the trees. I was ready if he did. He was going to end up on my
windshield. But I don’t think I need to tell you that it didn’t actually
happen.
Here’s what did happen.
