Hector Gonzalez
Bio
I'm a creative writer. I don't blog or write op-eds. I talk about my perspectives on twitch as I write and I consolidate my most intricate feelings into poetic forms. I'm always open for meaningful conversation.
Stories (23/0)
Empyrean: The Epic of Raiden
Raiden stepped cautiously inside. It was dark except for the light from two half melted candles, which sat on stools on each side of a wooden chest. Raiden walked over to the chest and bent over. He wiped the dust off of the top of the chest; curiosity rising. He sat on the floor and scooted towards the chest. He took hold of it with reverence and opened it. Dust swirled in the silence. I would have expected some light coming out of it, but this is ok...I guess. Raiden thought to himself as he leaned in to look into the chest. Lying at the bottom of the chest was an old black leather notebook. Raiden pulled it out and opened the notebook turning the pages at random; some pages were in better condition than others.
By Hector Gonzalez2 years ago in Fiction
Empyrean: The Epic of Raiden
Whether he opened his eyes for the first time after waking from a long dream or for the billionth time after a blink, he could not tell. Light flooded in exciting his senses. He squinted. After a minute or so his eyes finally adjusted. For a moment he stared into the light above his head confused. It emitted from an unfamiliar rectangular holding. He almost thought he was standing...or looking down, or hovering sideways or something. What kind of fire is that? He thought. He sat up in his bed and looked around the room. There was something different; wrong even. Something was dangling on his chest. He reached up touching the soft tube. Following it with his fingers he felt a slight tug at his face, and that's when the realization set in. The tube snaked up into his nose and a branch of it into his mouth and as the awareness continued to sharpen, he realized he felt it even down his throat. Looking around, he now noticed smaller tubes and wires connected to his body. Beginning to panic he grabbed at the tubes and wires and pulled them off, lastly, as quickly as he could muster, he pulled the tube from his nose and throat gagging as it slid out like a slug. Now he took a closer look; he was in a light blue room wearing a white gown with teal spots. Next to the bed a machine beeped a long high pitched sound.
By Hector Gonzalez2 years ago in Fiction
The Nuniverse
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, but that really only applies to the old space. Humans said a lot of things before the end of the previous universe. I still remember the day; everyone does. Forgetfulness no longer exists. The sky rolled up and every eye saw the veil of the universe torn asunder. Previously, we all thought that what we saw at night was the unadulterated view of the universe; we were wrong. There were those of us who knew that this wasn’t entirely accurate, but there were powers at work who were vigilant in ensuring that the truth wasn’t widespread. Their reasoning was pretty complicated, but that’s neither here nor there. When the veil tore, what we saw was…well…everything. Not just the limited number of stars, but also the creatures that had been dwelling, or existing, up there in the cosmos. Things that had been keeping watchful eyes on us. Things so indescribably large that it would be impossible to hide from anyone who had ever escaped the veil of Earth’s atmosphere. We saw the darkness of the universe illuminated. It’s pretty hard to imagine the background of the universe in light when your entire existence has only every seen it in complete and utter darkness. The colors! Even now, there are no words for the colors that span the universe, nor is there any real way to explain the clarity that has replaced the darkness.
By Hector Gonzalez2 years ago in Fiction
On Track To Nowhere
Memories flashed. A ball was bouncing on hot asphalt; just then the memory changed and a person was looking directly at her. Their face was beveled as if looking through a lens. The person reached out a finger and extended it to her face tapping on it. The memory changed again and there were children laughing and giggling. They couldn’t be seen, but at the same time they could; or maybe it was her who was there and not at the same time. The memory changed a final time. This time, there was an angry mob of people chasing someone… a terrified girl. She was cornered and fell to the ground facing the mob who slowly approached. She raised her hands to her petrified face and yelled “I’m not dangerous, I’m just different!” Someone lunged at her. She felt a vibration cover her body and heard a loud hum as everything went dark.
By Hector Gonzalez2 years ago in Fiction
- Top Story - July 2022
The Swing That Swung By Itself
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. The cabin used to be part of a camp, but the campgrounds had long since entered a state of disarray and very soon after visitors altogether stopped coming. Naturally, stories of hauntings, ghosts, and mysterious disappearances soon followed, uncorroborated of course, and people steered further and further away. One story, however, is true. The story of Johnny. An eight year old boy who lived in a house on the very site of this cabin in a time before Camp Hickory. In fact, the nearby lake was once a small pond in neighborhood where Johnny lived. A town called Hickory. In the mid 1950s, Hickory, was a place where the people who lived there were steel mill workers and military personnel. Their children were the byproduct of the baby boomer generation. Johnny was one of these children who lived at 13 Oak Spring lane, and while most of these children lived normal lives, Johnny’s story is much grimmer. Like many men who came back after the war, Johnny’s father, without any mental health services available, turned to the only mental health remedy he knew; alcohol. They say that one day in a particular frenzy, Johnny’s father accidentally killed the boy, however, there was much speculation about whether or not it was an accident. You see…the circumstances around Johnny’s death were…gruesome. No one in that little town could conceive of the horrific scene that befell the boy. Johnny’s father was arrested, his mother went crazy and was admitted, and the house itself became a pariah. At least until enough time had passed and the town managed to rebrand the location as an apartment complex in the 70s. That’s where this story begins. With another kid, just about your age who lived at the Oak Spring apartments in apartment 13.
By Hector Gonzalez2 years ago in Horror
D.R.A.G.O.N
Chapter 1 There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. I had heard of them before from Father. Old tales about winged beast that breathe fire. Who would have thought that I’d be able to see them for real? From this position on the summit, I could see them squirming down below. They were huge monstrous beasts. Nothing I could have imagined; completely different from all other animal life we’d documented. There were three…four…six of them down below. Each one a mass of raw power and ferocity. They had arrived three days ago. At first, it was just the one. I assumed it was just a large animal not typically found in this region, but after some subtle interrogation of Father and Mother, I had determined that this wasn’t any creature that we had any consistent information about.
By Hector Gonzalez2 years ago in Fiction