Untold Podcast

The Warrior had one simple mission: Slaughter every enemy that still breathed.

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The warrior twirled his blade, drilling a narrow cone into the loose dirt. He clenched his jaw
every few seconds, watching the razor-sharp steel reflect the dim sunlight filtering through the
trees that towered above the camp. The scent of smoke and roasting game drifted east, following
the gentle breeze that provided little relief from the stifling humidity smothering the forest.
A fly circled around the warrior’s head, and he swung at it with a snarl. The fly buzzed away
just out of reach, then continued swooping in lazy arcs. The warrior lowered his eyes again,
hypnotized by the spinning blade. Clumps of stringy, sweat-soaked hair hung down in front of
his face.

This was by far the most exhausting campaign he and his brethren had ever been on. As the
sunlight flashed across his face, his thoughts drifted to the brothers he had lost in this war. It
seemed that more of them had fallen than remained alive. The battles were becoming longer, the
enemy more vicious.

Was this war even winnable? He felt guilty for even thinking it, but he knew it was on the
minds of the others as well. And he also knew it wasn’t his place to question. He was a warrior,
and he had one simple mission.

Slaughter every enemy that still breathed.

Every evening a man wakes up on the forest floor choking to death over a tie someone wrapped around his neck. His only chance to learn what is happening lies with the mysterious woman, Fadra.

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What awakened me was the same thing that always ended sleep: the intense, real sensation that I was choking to death. Gasping, I plunged forward from where I lay, stuck two thumbs underneath the thing strangling me and ripped it from my throat.

For several moments I sat chest heaving air back into my lungs. In a few minutes, I lifted the object which almost killed me... again. It was a tie. The sort of thing any guy might wear. But, I gazed around; the other accouterments were there... again. A pair of leather shoes, a briefcase and a suit bag with a note attached. That was different. I reached over, grabbed the bag, dragging it to me. Already the shock was setting in and even though I had moonlight enough to read by, my mind could barely read the words. After several tries, the message made sense: ‘Pick up dry-cleaning.’

A pack of werewolves plot to take down Santa in Kingsley, Michigan.

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Kingsley, Michigan 2015
          
“I don’t know! I don’t know!” The elf screamed.

He tried to kick, but his feet were tied to an old wood table. He tried to punch, but his arms were restrained by a man.
No, not a man, a half man, half wolf with deep gray fur. A creature with only a hint of humanity illuminated by dim candlelight.

“It is December 23rd.” A second, red-furred creature growled. “You are his scout!”
          
“Just to assess the threat of your kind in the region. I don’t know his schedule. I’m not even supposed to check in until after Christmas!” The elf tried to hold back a whimper.

As an advanced scout for the timeless saint, he had received interrogation training. But the stakes in training only involved a letter grade.

Sammy and Geoff are the perfect couple in the perfect small town, but can the words of two strangers destroy everything they've ever known?

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The late morning rays of sun bounced off her chestnut curls, transforming them into golden thread so fine and bright as to turn the eye of the choosiest jeweler. Then, the breeze displaced her hair, interrupting the optical illusion.

Sammy stepped off the sidewalk and into the grassy field that still smelled like last night’s rainstorm. She cut across the field to the pagoda, where Geoff had told her to meet him. It was a little earlier than they’d agreed, but she wanted some time to think before she talked to him.

She was suspicious.

Having survived the annihilation of the first universe, she seeks to live out her eternity in peace as mother goddess to mankind; but someone else has also survived, and he controls her dreams.

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Ouranos, did you know?

Where are you?

There was no war. How can there be a war if the battlefield is no more? If the whole universe is no more?

I never had a chance to join the Liberator. It’s why you distracted me, isn’t it? If I’d allowed him to reshape me from plenum to discreteness, if I had acquired what he called a ‘body’, made of particles, positive and negative, pinned on the plenum, held together by the stress and strain of its face, I would be no more. I felt it happen to the rest.

Who could have guessed that move by the Enemy? That he would do such a thing frightens me. Still...  glorious extravagance: to destroy an entire universe, to obliterate the work of eons of eons of eons, just to keep it from falling into the Liberator’s hands.

After storming away from base, the leader of an exploration team gets lost in the vast cave system of an alien planet.

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Archer White stormed through the night, his shoes crunching the coarse gravel. All three moons lit this path. Pretty bright for almost midnight.

He kicked a stray stone. The lightweight rock soared into the distance. It was easy to forget that the gravity was slightly less than Earth standard here on Savannah, but little things like kicking a rock were good reminders.

What a tough day. Joe's mistake had been the last straw. Walking out here alone always helped Archer clear his head. Nothing brought back the awe of being on another world than a moons-lit night.

A howl echoed through the plain. Archer's heart seized. There was a skin about. He stopped and looked around for the source of the noise. It seemed to be coming from somewhere behind and to the right of him.

A brother and sister wander into Giantland and find themselves in the home of a child-eating giant.

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There was once a giant who lived on the borders of Giantland where it touched on the country of common people.

Everything in Giantland was so big that the common people saw only a mass of awful mountains and clouds; and no living man had ever come from it, as far as anybody knew, to tell what he had seen in it.

Somewhere near these borders, on the other side, by the edge of a great forest, lived a labourer with his wife and a great many children. One day Tricksey-Wee, as they called her, teased her brother Buffy-Bob, till he could not bear it any longer, and gave her a box on the ear. Tricksey-Wee cried; and Buffy-Bob was so sorry and so ashamed of himself that he cried too, and ran off into the wood. He was so long gone that Tricksey-Wee began to be frightened, for she was very fond of her brother; He was so long gone that Tricksey-Wee began to be frightened, for she was very fond of her brother; and she was so distressed that she had first teased him and then cried, that at last she ran into the wood to look for him, though there was more chance of losing herself than of finding him.

A group of street animals traverse the dangers of Hanoi to find a place where they can be served.

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“I don’t care if you are bigger than me. These are my noodles.” Parker the chicken stood in protection over the spilled bowl someone had left behind in Hong Ba alley.

The cat – Casey – padded back and forth, bearing just the tips of her teeth. “Fine. Eat them. I’ll wait until you’re done… and then I’ll eat you.”
 
“You are a beast!”

The cat laughed, “Perhaps. But a beast with a delicious chicken and noodle breakfast.”

Cadet Davos has one last test to pass - a flight through space on a dragon!

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I zipped up my jumpsuit, adjusted the slim oxygen pack attached my shoulders, and took a deep breath.  My stomach churned as I stared at my reflection in the polished metal wall. The red suit looked like a big warning beacon.

"Cadet Davos." Lieutenant Evrek strode into the locker room. "Are you ready for your flight or not?"
I snapped a quick salute. "Ready as I'll ever be, sir."

The Lieutenant held the locker room door open for me. I scrambled past him and into the hangar. The huge gun-metal gray space echoed with a cacophony of dock workers' shouts, the beeps of loading cranes and segues, and the loud flutter of wings. Crates obscured much of my view of the ground.

Dragons were everywhere

Jeff Ben Wa-lid can't stop fighting with his dad, so his mom sends him to his hippie relative - Uncle Jesus.

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Maybe you've heard of my Uncle Jesus. A lot of people say crazy things about him. One lady asked me if he shot fire out of his eyes and I was all, "Whut? That's whacked, lady!" And then I got into trouble for being disrespectful. I gotta watch it. In Israel 28 AD, you piss off the grown-ups too much and they'll get that whole rock throwing thing going at you, and my dad would be glad to help. 

I'm Jesus's nephew. The name is Jeff, Jeff Ben Wa-lid of the Jerusalem Ben-Wa-lids. My dad is Avram.  My grandfather, Wa-lid, opened a big chain of market places called Wa-lid Marts. Yeah, with that kind of bread, you guessed it, dad became a Pharisee and member of the Sanhedrin. I dunno, I try to listen, I try to be a good son, but when I talk to him about anything, it's like he's speaking a different language. Like yesterday, we were sitting on the roof, having breakfast and he turned to me and said, "Greyt oyf dayn shtudium?"  (So how's school?)

I mean, seriously…What's he saying?

I relate to my mom a lot easier. But she still gets after me.

"Jeff, it is not good that you quarrel with your father so much. By all that is holy, I say you will be the death of each other."