Moon Knight, A Twist of Fate pt. 1

Posted in Fan Fiction, Marvel Comics on October 30th, 2009 by Tom Moses – 1 Comment

My mind is a wreck.  I haven’t slept in two days, and not even the boredom of a cross country flight was enough to lull me.  I hear Seattle is a nice place, I think I’ve been there a few times in my life, but at the moment I’m not too sure on much beyond the present.

Frenchie arranged for everything, as usual he’s the one friend I can count on that will never lose his level head, always watching out for me.  Sometimes I’m not sure how he does it, other times I don’t bother to ask, but the two of us are like that.  Either one will do anything for the other at the drop of a hat, we’ve saved each other countless times and continue to do so everyday.

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Fireteam Spectre: “Old School Methods”

Posted in Fireteam Spectre on September 22nd, 2009 by Tom Moses – Be the first to comment

A heavy handful of keys slid across the table, stopping against a stack of loose papers and binders. The rings held devices of brass and shiny aluminum reflected the ambient light for a brief moment until Jackson’s hand closed over them. Dave Abernacle — a stupid name, but he liked it well enough — stood at the end of the opposite end of the table.

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Fireteam Spectre: “Extraordinary Efforts”

Posted in Fireteam Spectre on August 22nd, 2009 by Tom Moses – Be the first to comment

His house was still a wreck from his meeting with John, most of that mess had been cleaned up, but there was still the matter of the black scorches on the stairs left over from the Paramedics. Rubber gloves on his hands he had been at work cleaning the bedroom from top to bottom. For whatever reason, the act of cleaning usually gave him time enough to think and sort things out; it was almost a similar exercise to his morning runs and workouts, except there was more to think about when he was not as active.

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Welcome to River City, pt. 3

Posted in River City on August 1st, 2009 by Tom Moses – Be the first to comment

The trio of cops groaned, and watched as their new team leader bolted across an open field with tiny explosions kicking up the grass all around him.  He sprint until every muscle in his legs screamed to make him stop, his lungs were about to burst when he saw Prodic’s body and he skidded across the wet grass and scrambled to check if he were all right.  Nearly lifeless eyes shuttered open and a smile tried to form on his lips.  He tried to speak, but only dribbled blood instead.

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Awake, but only Half-Way

Posted in Flash Fiction on July 30th, 2009 by Tom Moses – Be the first to comment

There it was, once upon a time, a young man of twenty years who sat bored in his second round of American Literature classes.  Almost nodding off to the monotone voice that rebound and echoed in his brain, just before the words of a graduate student sat in for the real instructor he paid tuition in order to listen to seeped out of his brain and were lost to the airwaves forever.  He heard the muffled sound of emo rock bands screaming about their god-awful lives in the ear-buds of the student behind him. read more »

Welcome to River City, pt. 2

Posted in River City on July 25th, 2009 by Tom Moses – Be the first to comment

Jimmie Willis poured through the protocol books, hoping one day he’d memorize everything he was required.  His partner never showed up to work, which only meant his workload had just doubled and he wondered if he could keep in contact with so many teams on a continuous frequency movement.  He kept peering over the GPS signals each vehicle was letting off, tracking each of their movements on the paper maps he kept just as the protocols demanded.  Everything was going just as it should, until the cursor with the letter “E” vanished from his screen.

“Echo one team leader, this is Jericho, how copy?” read more »

Fireteam Spectre: “Close one door…”

Posted in Fireteam Spectre on July 22nd, 2009 by Tom Moses – Be the first to comment

The street lamps were dim and yellow; the few that worked hardly provided enough light to keep the streets safe at night. Jackson kept his eyes roaming while he canvassed the area from the safety of his Honda. Counting the illicit customers coming and going from the yellow house on the corner of Third and Elm, seeing no apparent pattern at this time of night, but all the same the plan did not matter to whatever pattern the customers took, there were no innocents in this equation.

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Welcome to River City, pt. 1

Posted in River City on July 18th, 2009 by Tom Moses – Be the first to comment

Just as evolution takes it part to cleanse the earth of useless species, it can be said the same thing happens to societies.  Small towns will eventually give way to larger districts, small cities and eventually a sprawling metropolitan area will consume what had once been just a small frontier town on the basin of a river.  This is the same sort of story that happens to locales all over the country, but there are few cities quite like River City in the heart of America’s Midwest.  Snuggled in close to a large enough river, smugglers found it home almost two centuries before and until recently the criminal element decided to grow quietly, content with its place in the socio-economic system.  But just as evolution had it in for the dodo, it seemed too that River City was doomed to a life of lessening social grace every year.

Now Entering:  River City, home of the 1993 state champions, girls volleyball team.

Population:  1,203,559

Est. 1798

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Fireteam Spectre: “Options all around, Barkeep!”

Posted in Fireteam Spectre on June 22nd, 2009 by Tom Moses – Be the first to comment

It was not the sort of way he wished to spend a Saturday afternoon, but it had to be done. Emily was stable but the damage to her body was severe this time, the chemically induced coma was something the doctors needed to help her recover but it was Doctor Evans that put his hand on Jackson’s shoulder, “It was bad this time, you know.”

“She should be dead.”

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The Clink part 4: “Hug-a-Thug”

Posted in The Clink on May 25th, 2009 by Tom Moses – 2 Comments

His office would’ve been much more impressive if every stick of furniture hadn’t come from particle board put together at prison industries, the quality of work produced by felons was quite evident the moment Jules laid eyes on the wannabe mahogany desk. Though this behemoth of a man was certainly brave enough without suggesting that Jules come to see him without handcuffs on, but so many of these guys were like that, brave on the outside but cried themselves to sleep whenever something went horribly wrong. Jules sighed and took a seat, this guy was harmless, and helpless but there was probably little in the way of power he had over the institution other than making the inmates feel better about themselves so that they might push less grievances against the reformatory.

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