Anthony Diaz
Bio
Writer of Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Horror, and sometimes Poetry.
Stories (42)
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Avni and Ida
For nearly two centuries, the people of Madglen set aside their differences, placed the needs of the whole above all, and, most importantly, secured peace. These years have been a challenging task. War was almost waged due to misunderstandings, land, money, and greed; but the conflict was not settled on the battlefield, but around a table. The city of Bridgemire, known for its ill-temper and conceded mindset leaders, successfully built a community of structure and law; these were genuinely fantastic times in Madglen. That was true until two sought to hold a power that had not been summoned for almost a millennia. Agis Erris, an elf from the city of Ebonwall, and Yagen, a half-demon from Darkguard. They sought The Crown of King Saward the Silencer and his Scepter of Immortality.
By Anthony Diaz3 years ago in Fiction
A Short Tale of King William Chastaine
At the age of one-hundred and seventeen, the still stoic; white bearded King looked at the empty hall. It would be only hours until his oldest son, Sir Vallond Chastaine, would assume the role of ruler. The one-hundred-year war finally came to an end with the surrender of Chief Sorcerer Execs, by the blade of the king himself. Only a few weeks passed since that final battle against the rogue armies led by the misguided magi. The natural born magic users of the Northern Temples sought to end the peace of the lands by violence. Their motivations were mixed; some by religious means, some political, others were personal. All were deadly.
By Anthony Diaz4 years ago in Fiction
Light The Halls
The brothers stood at the bottom of the long staircase and looked around the entrance foyer heading into the first of many pitch-dark hallways into the catacombs. The two young mage scholars, in their second year at the Mage University, were instructed to relight the halls. The once lit passageways died of their lights with the passing of the incredibly old wizard librarian. “The light stays as long as the caster lives,” the professor of cantrips said as he handed the brothers, Dante and Francis Calco, a large sack of everlasting glass lights. “Okay, why again haven’t you lit the halls yet Dante?” Francis asked, while standing as close to the only available light emanating from the open door at the top of the stairs. “I came here yesterday, I heard something; and I freaked out.” Dante took a deep breath and looked at his brother. “That is why I brought you. You are learning battle spells. If something is down here, I need your help.” Dante said while his sweat palmed hands reached into his bag for a glass light sphere. “You couldn’t ask a real battle mage to help?” Francis responded worriedly clasping onto his marigold good luck charm. “Just come with me.” Dante sharply answered back.
By Anthony Diaz4 years ago in Fiction
Morgan's Story
A calmness came to Morgan as she continued to sink down into the dark depths of the Gulf of Mexico. She kept her eyes open, brave and daring. The sun’s light began to fade as her lungs needed no air the further she slowly sank. A sole Blacktip shark crept its way in perfect view. Morgan halted her desent and reached out. In her mind it whispered, Carcharhinus limbatus. Suddenly, beneath Morgan’s feet, from the dark below, a black orb moved and faded into nothing. Had Morgan the ability to stop and measure the almost human sized black orb, she would have taken caution at the giant shark it was attached to. The air in Morgan’s lungs, she needed to breathe. Her eyes darted then shifted up. She was too far down to make it to the water’s surface. She calmly excepted her fate and allowed her body to calmly rest. She took a deep breath in.
By Anthony Diaz4 years ago in Fiction
The Popular One
All across America, on this Tuesday night, an event shall take place like no other, and it all starts with a box. The Popular One is the latest of reality trash television. A show that scratches at the itch to see strangers lust, consume an aberrant amount of alcohol and become belligerent, preach both lies and truth, and persuade to their own means. Twelve contestants, all from different walks of life, try to win one-hundred thousand dollars to be the final Popular One.
By Anthony Diaz4 years ago in Fiction
Mom's Secret Chocolate Cake
All I wanted was a piece of mom's secret recipe chocolate cake. I was due to return to the states in two weeks. Whenever I had the chance to call from Afghanistan, I always ended the call with an I love you, and what I wanted to eat upon my return. It changed from time to time, but the one thing that always stayed the same was my request for Mom's chocolate cake. I couldn't wait to get home. The days seemed to blend into each other. It was the same thing day in and day out. I was scared. I would be a liar if I said I wasn't, but we had to look past it to get the job done. We laughed at horrible jokes, we cursed the days we were there and most of all, we longed for piece of home.
By Anthony Diaz4 years ago in Fiction
The Old Green Barn
Perhaps Jonathan could have waited another ten minutes before making the final decision to demolish the old green barn on his family's small farm. Why his grandfather decided to paint this now emptied barn green, he had no idea. He thought it was time to let it go. The years growing up here have been good to Jonathan. He was the only son to have not joined the family's farm business in some capacity. He had dreams elsewhere, but throughout his life, he kept coming back to the farm. This is where he befriended Sir David, the family chicken. His imagination needed to start early, as the nearest childhood school friend was over a mile away. Sir David, in Jonathan's head, spoke like the British icon Sir David Attenborough. The pig, Piggy, spoke as Ms. Piggy, the muppet Jonathan laughed the most at.
By Anthony Diaz5 years ago in Fiction
2321
The sweat from Madeline’s brow dripped in perfect rhythm as she studied the holographic map display of what was once the lower levels of the San Antonio Rivercenter mall. The concept of a mall is now foreign to a second-generation retriever. Society has long since enjoyed the enclosed markets and entertainment hubs. The building now holds housing, makeshift clinics, a community of sorts; however, this particular community is hording something that Madeline and her people need desperately; an energy source. The small can sized nuclear batteries were once described as science fiction, yet the need to make them a reality was apparent after the first worldwide power outage in the year 2071. It wasn’t until the power remained off, when the world knew it was too late to change their ways.
By Anthony Diaz5 years ago in Fiction
Saving The Kemps
I don't remember how old I was when I first saw this memorable news piece about the growing concern of our planetary health on the Music Television channel. This was a time where MTV primarily only played music videos. MTV news brought the major international and domestic headlines to a young audience. It was a genius way to get the youth thinking. I remember Kurt Loder, in between videos, giving the breaking news from across the globe. The fall of the Berlin Wall, growing poverty in America, and this piece on our planet's health. This all dates me, but that fifteen-to-thirty-minute mini-documentary is still stuck in my head. It must have been Earth Day or the response to some major oil spill in our waters; I remember the Exxon Valdez oil spill vividly. The images that are still imprinted in my head were a series of shots of dense pollution from different parts of the globe. A shot of children playing in garbage piled waters in India, a bulldozer shoving massive piles of trash in a land fill in somewhere, USA; a quick shot of wildlife entangled in trash. I remember going to school the next day or perhaps maybe a few days after, and we, as a school, planted trees that would one day provide great shade for future generations. It was a celebration, the local news came out and took pictures, some of our names got in the local paper and the very lucky few got interviewed. To a kid, that moment where you find your name in the black and white print, or maybe see yourself on the local news; it was our miniscule fifteen minutes of fame. We didn't have the social media outlets like we do today. The reporters took their pictures and asked their questions. We talked about what the importance of doing our part to "save the planet," meant to us youngsters. It felt good. Couple that with watching a couple of episodes of Captain Planet in a school time pizza party, we felt like heroes. Our hands literally planted something that the future population would appreciate. They were even talking about putting a plaque on the school grounds to commemorate this single event. A plaque that read something to the effect of, planted by the whatever class of whatever year, and have all our names on it. Immortalized. The day belonged to us, we were environmentalists for one day. Then the following day came. I had the same emotional high as before, but I felt like I was the only one. I remember going out of my way to pick up litter. A piece of paper here and a soda can there. I truly felt like I was the only one who still cared after a day of such importance. Overnight, the mood of the adults went back to; normal. No fan fair of recycling, no pizza parties for planting trees or picking up trash. I, however, felt like I needed to keep this feeling going. I was not perfect nor am I perfect right now when it comes to keeping an always mindful headspace focused on our environment. It felt like I was doing my part then, and I feel like I'm still trying to make a difference now. Why? Because every so often I can visually see the fruits of my small labor.
By Anthony Diaz5 years ago in Earth
