My Universe: A Collection of Short Stories Vol.1 Revised

By James Sybrant

This is a mix of short stories ranging from Fantasy and Science Fiction to Super Natural and Horror.

Follow along as two young boys enter a haunted house to prove they are worthy to enter into the older boys club in the super natural story: The Collar.

Get a glimpse of humanities past in the sci-fi story: One Giant Step.

See what happens to a group of adventurers who make a deal in the fantasy story: Dragon’s Malice.

This is just a few of the stories you’ll find in this collection. Vampires, Werewolves, Dwarves, Elves, Robots, Aliens and more wait to capture your imagination.

• Language: English
• Publisher: James Sybrant
• Release date: Aug 24, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311612168

James Sybrant

James R. Sybrant resides in Northwest Arkansas, where he was born and raised. He is the author of My Universe: A Collection of Short Stories: Volumes 1 & 2, Right to Rule (Book 1 of the Rule Series), Rise to Rule (Book 2 of the Rule Series), Return to Rule (Book 3 of the Rule Series), and Rebirth of Rule (Book 4 of the Rule Series). He has read science fiction and fantasy stories for decades, and has been writing for almost as long. He is also a photographer and has worked for the local paper for twenty years.

Book preview

My Universe: A Collection

of Short Stories

Volume #1

Revised

James R. Sybrant

Copyright 2014 James R. Sybrant

All rights reserved.

Cover art by NASA

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Contents

Cabin of Doubt

In the Middle

Third Time’s a Charm

Troll Games

The Collar

Protector

Hero

Inheritance

Dragon’s Malice

Childhood’s Cabin

Stagnant

The Collector

Future Generation

Remnants

Roadside Attraction

Other Books By James R. Sybrant

Cabin of Doubt

Wooden ceiling beams and overhead lighting slowly came into focus after her eyes opened. Cold, granite tiles chilled the back of her body. Eyes clinched shut, mouth set in a grimace, pain flooded her head when she sat up. Probing fingers found a large bump at the back of her head that stung at her touch. Sticky blood was already coagulating and mating her hair.

Cabinets, stove and a refrigerator surrounded her.

What happened, she asked out loud, expecting an answer, but received only silence.

Legs wobbling, using the counter to get to her feet, her eyes darted around for clues. Shards from a brown, crockery jar were mixed with bags of tea lay on the floor where consciousness came to her. This was the culprit that assaulted her, or so she believed. Uncertainty was clouding her mind as much as pain.

‘I must have decided I wanted a cup of tea; and in the process of getting the jar down, it fell on my head.’ The thought didn’t make her feel any better even if it did make sense.

Scanning beyond the immediate area, she spotted the laptop on the dining room table.

Only two chapters remained to finish the novel she was writing. It became a ritual for her to stay at the lake cabin when she was so close to completing a new book. However, these remembered facts didn’t clear the fog from her brain. For all she knew days may have passed, and the blow to her head had removed that time from her mind.

‘I know I’m close to finishing my novel if I came out here. But if I couldn’t even remember what happened to me, how am I supposed to finish it? Maybe if I read what I have so far, it’ll come back to me.’ However, sirens reached her ears before she began to move toward the laptop.

Another fact returned to her; the cabin was on a dead-end road. ‘At least I can remember that.’

Legs shaking, she made her way to the porch to wait for the barer of the noise.

Blue lights colored the trees, the cabin and her as a police car came to a stop not far from her. Two officers jumped from the car with guns drawn. Arms reflexively wrapped around her middle as concern and confusion creasing her face. As they rushed the cabin she stood motionless not knowing what to expect. One officer stopped at her side while the other ran passed and inside.

Are you all right ma’am? the officer asked. He was the older of the two officers and most likely the one in charge.

I hit my head pretty hard while trying to get tea bags, so I’m a bit confused, she said, still trying to comprehend why the police were there.

We received a 911 call from this resident. Ma’am, you were screaming that someone had broken in and hurt you.

I did? Brain fog still obscured her memory and not even the officers words could shine a light on what happened. I’m sorry, but I don’t remembering anything.

Please, come with me. Taking her by the elbow, he escorted her to the squad car and sat her in the back seat.

Stay here and try not to move your head around, I’ll get you a cervical collar out of the trunk. The click of the trunk’s latch reached her after he left and a moment later he was back with her.

I’m not used to doing this so I hope I don’t cause more damage than you might already have. Pain shot up the back of her head as he put the collar in place, causing her to wince. It wasn’t until that moment she noticed her neck hurt.

I’m sorry for causing you any discomfort. The paramedics are in rout and will be here soon. Now, I’m going to have to leave you here while I join my partner. I’m going to close the door and lock it.

Do you have to?

It’s for your safety in case your assailant is still around and wants to cause you mort injury.

Okay, I’ll be fine, go do your job. Her voice conveyed understanding, but confusion still ruled her mind. ‘Why would anyone want to hurt me?’

He shut the door and after locking it, rested a hand on the butt of his gun as he walked away.

After he entered the cabin she watched and waited for both of them to emerge. When they did, the younger man was shaking his head. The older officer looked at her and locked eyes. He reached up and spoke into his radio’s microphone but never diverted his eyes. The volume on the car radio was turned down low, so she couldn’t make out what he was being said.

The younger officer walked around to the back of the car. She couldn’t help but notice that he avoided her gaze. He removed something from the trunk and returned to the cabin where he began running yellow, crime-scene tape. Now she was just dumbfounded. She was knocked on the head by a falling jar; what was the crime? What had they found inside that she hadn’t noticed upon waking?

Red and amber lights joined the blue as the younger officer continued to run tape. The older officer left the porch and walked by the car on the opposite side of her. She watched as he passed by to speak to the two men emerging from the ambulance. She knew he was briefing them on what had happened, however his voice was muffled and she couldn’t catch any details. He returned to the car with the paramedics in tow and opened her door.

These men will are going to examine you and tend to your injury.

What’s going on with the yellow tape, she asked as he helped her out of the car.

We’ll get to that in a bit. Right now, you need medical attention. The officer stayed at the car and watched her being led away.

While the paramedics were walking her to the back of the ambulance, two more cars pulled in. One was an unmarked police car; the other was an SUV with Crime Scene Investigation stenciled on the side.

After a few quick tests, it was concluded that she had a concussion and needed to get to the hospital for an MRI scan.

You get her comfortable, and I’ll run over to the officer to let him know we’re taking her to the hospital, one man said to the other.

I need you to lay back for me. She was sitting on the edge of the gurney while they checked her over, and she was fine with that. Now he wanted to her put herself in the same position where she found herself in this state. I’ll help you, he said when she hesitated.

Do I have to?

Yes, I’m afraid its policy. Begrudgingly, she did as he asked. Once she was on her back he reached over and pulled a strap up and pulled it over her chest.

Is that really necessary?

Sorry, part of the policy.

Being strapped to the gurney was unnerving. It may have been their policy but it made her feel like a criminal; especially since something was going on and the police weren’t talking.

What’s happening in the cabin? Can you tell me? She thought he knew something since the officer talked to them when they arrived.

You are the only reason we were dispatched that I’m aware of. Actually, I was hoping you could tell me what happened. His voice seemed to betray what he was saying and she didn’t believe him.

I really have no idea.

When the other paramedic returned she thought about asking him what he found out but decided he would tell her either.

* * * * *

Not long after they ran their tests and set her up in a room, a detective came to see her.

Ma’am I have some questions I need to ask you. His voice was casual, but his eyes were business.

I’ll do what I can. She thought it was odd that a detective would want to question her for having a crockery jar fall on her head.

Do you remember anyone else being in the cabin with you?

No, I don’t. Why? Her eyes widened as she remembered the older officer telling her she called 911 and the younger running the crime tape.

I hate to alarm you. He took a breath. We found the body of a woman in the cabin. Do you have any idea who she might have been?

A body, do you mean she’s dead? A nod of the head was all he gave her. Oh, that is just awful. Now she understood why this man came to her hospital room.

I know this is upsetting, but do you remember anyone else being with you? Maybe a friend accompanied you for the weekend or a neighbor dropped by?

No, I don’t remember anyone else, I don’t remember much of anything at the moment. I do know that I would not have anyone staying with me since I was there to work on my novel.

Yes, of course. Well, I’m sorry to hear that, I was hoping to close this case quickly. We’ll run her prints, she must have been the intruder you called 911 about. If you can remember anything, please give me a call. He handed her his business card.

I’ll do that. She hated not remembering what happened. After he left, a nurse came in to check on her.

I was wondering when I can go home? She asked while the nurse took her blood pressure.

"The doctor wants to keep you overnight for observation, so not until tomorrow at the earliest.

Alright, She didn’t like staying in the hospital. There was little to do beyond watching television. Can you bring me some paper and something to write with? She would rather have her laptop, but she could work with pen and paper just as well. ‘I will just have to make the best of my time here.’

I sure can. She removed the blood pressure cuff and wrote the results in her chart. I’ll be right back.

‘Perhaps when I start writing, it will trigger my memory.’ She wasn’t even sure she wanted to remember what happened if there was a death involved.

An hour later she was staring at the blank paper, trying to recall where she left off on her current work. When nothing came to her, she cursed herself for not asking the detective to bring her laptop to the hospital.

‘Well, there’s nothing to be done about it now. I’ll just have to think of a new novel to start.’ She thought something would come to mind in a matter of minutes since there was always an idea rolling around in her head, but nothing did. She threw her head back against her pillow out of frustration. Pain ripped through her head and brought tears to her eyes.

‘You can’t force an idea nor can you force words.’ She filled her lungs and held the air in until she counted to three; then she exhaled. After repeating this exercise another nine times, she shook her hands out. ‘Okay, let me try this again.’

She opened her eyes and looked at the blank paper, but nothing happened. It was as if she never wrote before. Was this what writer’s block was like? She never had this problem in the past and was finding it alarming.

‘That blow to the head must have been harder than I thought. Well, if I can’t write, I guess I’ll try to get some sleep.’ And sleep, she did; dreamless and unmoving.

* * * * *

The next morning the detective came back to the hospital to see her. He cleared his throat to get her attention. She didn’t see him walk through the door as she was finally putting pen to paper. The prose