PART ONE (of three)

Well hello there, friend! So glad that you could join us! Now that you’re here, I’m going to subject you to an experiment! No, don’t try the door, it’s locked! You think I would just let you walk out? I didn’t think so. You might as well sit down and get comfortable and let me explain what this experiment is all about.

Myself, and my fellow bloggers, Mark Hirose and Madam von Sassypants, are going to tell you a story. I will tell you part one today, then, Mark picks up the baton tomorrow with part two, after that, the Madame continues the story the following day, with the part three finale. Our only ground rule going into this event was that there would be no preplanning. Mark and the Madame are reading this part of the story just as you are. Tomorrow, it will be up to Mark to steer this story anyway he sees fit. It could become a comedy, drama, porno, satire, who knows? The options are limitless.

Enjoy part one, and brace yourself as part two stretches your imagination to the breaking point and beyond…the breaking point. In which case your imagination will be broken!

PART ONE: The Ghost Pilot

“I don’t care much for dyin’, miss, but I wouldn’t mind wakin’ up to your face every day.”

Captain Eddie McCullen winced as the nurse wrapped his abdominal wound, applying a bit more pressure than necessary.

“Pardon me, ma’am, I seem to have overstepped my boundaries.”

The nurse raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, you have. It’s bad enough that I have to spend my time piecing you fly boys back together, I didn’t realize I’d spend most of my time warding off your advances. Now hold still.”

The nurse gingerly removed the soiled bandage from his head. Scab clung to the wrappings, and, when pulled away, caused new bleeding. She daubed the wound with cotton soaked in alcohol, causing tears to brim Eddie’s eyes. He pretended they didn’t exist, and she pretended she didn’t notice.

“Not to be contentious, but I have eighteen confirmed kills. I think that may bump me from fly boy to Ace.”

The nurse rolled her eyes, but allowed herself the hint of a smile at his effort.

“Well, Mr. Ace, you’re a lucky man. Shrapnel just missed your stomach and right lung, and your landing nearly scalped you. There was skull showing when they rolled you in here, you know.”

Eddie propped himself on one elbow and looked at the nurse full in the face–his brows furrowed, and offense spread across his features.

“I can see by your name tag that your last name is Brown, what’s your first…?”


“Look Amanda, I know you don’t think much of us pilots, but luck generally doesn’t have anything to do with whether we live or die. If I had to put a finger on it, I’d say it’s one part skill and three parts spite.”

Eddie leaned back in his bed and stared through the wall across from him–out into the open sky.

“By all rights I should be dead. My bird was so fulla’ holes that, well, I imagine that’s what flyin’ a screen door might feel like. You know what kept me alive?”

Amanda sat down cautiously at the end of his bed now, genuinely interested, but still guarded to his probing advances and piercing stare. Playfully, she chaffed him.

“Thoughts of a girl back home? Patriotism?”

Eddie laughed appreciatively.

“Hate. It was hate. You see, this is the second time I’ve encountered the ghost pilot. I call him the ghost because twice now, I’ve looked right down my sights at his tail rudder, and twice he’s disappeared, only to reappear right behind me. The first time, I got lucky. The German’s bugged out once they saw our numbers. This time though… I saw him smile and give me a mock salute while I was going down. As soon as I’m healthy enough, I’m going to go back up there and kill him.”

Amanda was taken aback a little bit by his intensity, and angry at herself for feeling something towards the young pilot. Still, she had to know.

“How do you kill a ghost?

Tune in tomorrow when Mark answers that and many other questions at (It’s also in my blogroll).


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