Daniel Salazar Jr.
Bio
I love sci-fi and horror! The Secret of Nimh and Land Before Time started my love for storytelling. I hope to one day write and produce my own comic books and tell stories like my heroes before me.
Stories (5)
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Daelen Morne
The frozen wastes of Skell were no lie or exaggeration. My companions and I had traveled twelve days by horse and have now been three days on foot. Why would I, a bard be in this miserable situation? Why do I accompany two warriors and a mage in these frozen lands shivering to my bones? It is simple. We are to deliver a sacred item to a temple called the Tomb of Molok. I feel the crystal orb bump on my thigh as I struggle to walk through knee-high snow. I adjust the small orb in my travel pack so I don't risk damaging it.
By Daniel Salazar Jr. 12 months ago in Fiction
Upon a Feathered Wing
Two mice scurry silently through a patch of tall grass. Stopping every few inches to listen and check for scents. One is older and grey with one eye. The other is light brown, fresh from his mother's nest. "How much further do we have to go?" The young ones always ask too many questions. "Seriously One--, Sam, how much further are we going? The barn is so far now and--. "If you are so scared go back then." Sam hissed. "You call me One Eye but I always come back with food and supplies for the nest. You have been suckling from your mother for too long and it's time you started bringing something to the table. That's why you are here. To learn and shut your mouth. You are here to listen, to smell, and to keep your eyes in the sky Lucas. Not to ask questions."
By Daniel Salazar Jr. 4 years ago in Fiction
Chorus of The Emerald Moon
"Take it easy man". "You too buddy". David waved his friend goodbye. The trunk to David's car groaned as he opened it and put his guitar in. As he put his hand on the trunk to close it he finally relized the green light. He looked up at the moon to see it still there hanging in the sky. It didnt look much different from what it had always looked like except for one major difference. The giant green light that has been emanating from the moon's surface for the last ten years. When man finally went back to the moon it was a race to mine materials and precious metals. "Crazy", David said aloud, "who would've thought after all this time we were all wrong". Everything looked green now. At night it was like a giant green light filter was draped over the world. David got in his car and started it. The gig was over and was time to head home. It was these moments he hated though. The crowd was gone, no one was yelling for another song to be sung, no alcohol to quiet the memories or weed to help him not care. Here he would always remember his brother and why the moon "turned" green.
By Daniel Salazar Jr. 4 years ago in Horror
On the Road
When I first started playing guitar, my abuelito always told me, "The position of your thumb is key." "Every neck on every guitar will feel different to you." Everything will bother you and you will try to attribute this excuse for a bad performance." "This is unaceptable and a musician never fails in his craft." "God gave us thumbs to adjust our hands in degress and give stability." "With such a tool every neck will feel different but, it will not be unplayable." He was right. I was traveling with a group of survivors after The Incident. Then the raiders showed up. Some of us didnt make it. Some of us were going to be kept. The rest of us, myself included, were being sold. Along the way we stopped in the wastes of was once the bread basket. My geography was never good so what state we were in I couldn't tell you. One of our captors came to us holding something in his hand asking an odd question. One I never thought I would hear again. "Can anyone play this? Can anyone play guitar? Everyone looked at each other. Some, may have been able to play but they were to scared to answer. "What better way to get out of slavery?", I asked myself. "To have a skill few have you'll find yourself free." I rose my hand before someone else had this epiphany. The man's head shot in my direction. He stomped towards me lifted me by my neck and unchained me from the others. He pushed me in the direction of their leaders tent. Inside the tent their leader laid on his side on a mound of pillows. Across from him was a man who smelled perfumed! His clothes didnt have the wear and tear from constantly being on the road. They looked pressed and clean. The Incident was 10 years behind us now and I hadn't seen or smelled someone like him in about as long. The guitar was pushed into my arms and I was forced to sit. After adjusting myself I noticed her. Beautiful tan skin. Hair as brown as chocolate. Her eyes as dark as night. She was intoxicating. The leader breaks my gawking and tells me to PLAY!! I hadn't held a guiar in years but, I knew where my thumb needed to be. I break into La Llorona followed by Paloma Negra. I hadn't sung a song since before The Incident! The words flowed from me I couldn't believe it! Then the leader roared at me again, "IN ENGLISH!!!" I thought a little bit then retuned the guitar and started singing "Crossroads" the way CREAM did it in Royal Albert Hall. Evreyone's eyes went wide as I played the best solo I could with my hands being as bad as they were. I wasnt young anymore. I'm already passed 40. Immediately the other man got up and gave the leader of the raiders a small pouch. The man fiddled with the pouch and his eyes went wide. I was unshackled and bathed. My hair cut and my beard trimmed. I was free! The man bought my freedom. He said I was going to pay him back with my talent. He was just another master but I owed him my life. That was 3 years ago now. My life has changed so much since then. I'm traveling to El Paso. The first time in 13 years since The Incident. I've played all the North East. Played for leaders and men of wealth. I traveled to the Carolinas and played to cannabis tycoons. I've traveled by ship to Florida and played on beaches and ships. The beautiful woman from the tent. She's my wife now. We made love the first time among the red rocks of Oklahoma. Now we ride by caravan to El Paso in electric vehicles. I feel the locket on my skin. I pick it up and open it. I see her picture. Pictures never do her justice. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would become a rockstar after the apocalypse.
By Daniel Salazar Jr. 5 years ago in Fiction
The Locket
He looks at the locket. Gold and Beautiful. He turns it to see the back and double checks the coordinates. 27.8006 N, 97.3964 W. Home. He hadnt seen it in years. Since the incident he hasnt been able to cross The Rockies or what was left of them, for 6 years now. Then he heard what happened in Texas. The Largest Hurricane in History. Hurricane Rosa. Hit the coastal bend head on. Wiping cities off the map. Still he finally made it. He gathered the appropriate gear, tools and weapons. The weapons are mostly for bears and lions. Then there's the hordes. They look like people but that part of them died a long time ago. They hunt and eat us like game. Avoiding them is easy if you know how but, one must be prepared. He crossed The Rockies and only lost one toe to frostbite. He trecked the through the pan handle and encountered a horde. They chased him through the pan handle and into the North of Texas. He was saved by people. The first people he'd seen in 5 or 6 years. They wore grey and brown outfits with respirators and goggles. The men took him to a building with lights! Electricity! There he told their leader he was heading to the coast. The man's eyes grew sad and offered a horse, jerkey, ammunition and herbs. He knew what lied ahead but, the locket against his chest drove him on. The gold locket. "All I have left of you." "You're eyes when you saw it." 4 weeks he traveled through the most civilization he'd seen in 6 years. Children. He hadn't seen children in years either. Then he hit Galveston. What was left of it. Nothing more than checkpoint and place for crooked and desperate people to flourish. He crossed the check point "illegally" they quite chasing him after 2 days. They were louder than the hordes. Slower than the lions. Dumber than animals. They were easy to evade. Still they did manage to hurt him. His side was bleeding from the bullet that grazed him. Alcohol and herbs keep infection at bay. Now he hides in the wreckage of what San Antonio turning the locket in his hand. He hears animals. He aims. He shoots. He eats well and safe. 2 days and he finally sees it. In the distance the remains of a bridge that stretched in many direction. To his surprise he saw people and boats at the foot of the bridge. The old couple and their children ferried him across what was left of the mighty port. Rusted, decaying ships lied around as if thrown by an angry child. They loomed over him like the limbs of dead giants. Casting eerie shadows upon the water. On the other side he's warned not to stray to far into the "inner" remains of the city. "Strange things happen there", he warned. Thats exactly where he was headed. The excitement and nostalgia of home have now been replaced with fear and sorrow. He remembers a spawling city scape. Two big towers. Buildings made of glass and steel, concrete and brick. Mansions that faced the water. Cathedral's, court houses, hotels, beautiful homes. All gone. Nothing but beach and water now. Sand covered everything. He makes his way west. Skeleton's of cars and buildings as far as he could see. The sun would be setting soon. He wondered if home was still there. The locket told him to hurry. The gold felt cold and heavy. He saw now why the inner city was avoided. A horde. A large one. Possibly the biggest he'd ever seen. The locket was ice now and weighed a ton. HOME! TAKE ME HOME!!, It screamed. The sky was a pale pink with a dark blue wave swallowing it as the sun set in the west. He saw it what was left of the street. Some homes stood!! HIS home, HER home, OUR home made it!! There was no lights though. No sign of life or warm welcome. Boards covered the windows. Paint was chipping off and the door barely stayed on it's hinges. He steps lightly on the porch. His hand gripping the cold, gold locket below his throat. Its so heavy his neck hurts. He pushes the door open softly, silently, like a soft breeze. Its just like remembers. The living room with the carpet he promised to change and never did. The dining room to his left. Small but just right for them. Then the hall to the rooms. Their room. He steps softly and pushes the door open. The locket is so heavy he can barely breathe. Gold and deadly. He walks nothing is in it. All that is in the room is a dirty mattress. He recognizes it. He looks at the wall and falls to his knees. Its a picture. Their picture. She's in that beautiful white dress. So perfect, so beautiful and on her neck the locket. He falls to his knees and cries as he removes the locket from his neck. The relief of the weight he can finally breathe and cry normally, if such a thing is possible. Then he hears it, barely, but he hears it. Like a soft breeze. Then he hears it. A word he hadn't heard in 6 years. Soft like whisper but raspy like some one with a sore throat. The word causes him to go stiff. The locket begins to cut into the skin of his hand his red blood covering the gold. He hears the word again and he begins to turn. When he looks up he hears the word again for the last time. She still looked beautiful. "Dionicio", she said. Then the world began to go cold and dark. The locket wasn't heavy anymore. It was home. HE was home and SHE was alive. They could finally be together.
By Daniel Salazar Jr. 5 years ago in Horror
