When death is crowned: Intro to Aton Bowden.

Aton Bowdon was a tall, well-built, dark, and incredibly handsome young man, with a terrible sense of humor. He was trained by his father in martial arts, when he was only seven years old. He had no memory of his mother, but he has heard from his father that she was American, and he only met her once. At the age of 15 Aton’s father was murdered by Chinese hit man. He had no place to go. So he only sought out revenge. His skills acquired over a span of 6 years put him to the age of 21. He was then shipped to Constantinople as an assassin working on contracts. His skills were recognized as one of the top Marksmen in the world. Not to mention he knows how to use his hands as weapons.

People often hear his name and think of him as a supernatural human, something that only exists, merely through stories. No one realizes that he is a living legend. But the one thing that often catches people off guard. Aton Bowdon is blind. He works alone. Relying only on his sense in smell, feel. And what he lacks in vision, he makes up for in hearing. He is the Ultimate Assassin. 

                                                       ____________________

“So what do you think? She’s hardly dangerous herself. It’d be a piece of cake for you.” Said a low voice across a table from Aton.

“I’ll take the job, I just charge more than five million dollars for a contract, especially overseas. I will do it, for free. But only this time, because it sounds fun.”

“Excellent”

That was all that needed to be said. That was all that Aton needed to know. He was ready for a vacation. But what he didn’t know, is that he just excepted an invite to his greatest challenge yet. He would not see what was about to go on around him. But he will hear every bit of it. This is going to be his downfall. And will fail. And he will die. 

When death is crowned: Heather's beckoning

Rushing through the dry grass of the valleys, she realized then she should’ve taken her car. She had been running for at least an hour now. She stopped to check her cell phone, battery almost dead, she had only been running for ten minutes, of course. She couldn’t keep running. Her heart was beating like a tribal drum, and the cramps were getting to her head. She knew they’d be on her tail in a couple minutes. Maybe if she stayed low, they wouldn’t see her.

She her heard loud thumps coming her way. She kneeled down into the towering grass, hearing the thumps getting closer and closer. She could hardly see through the grass. But she could see one of the men coming straight for her, oblivious. She had a moment to plan for retaliation, she already decided she would. She had no idea what she was doing, but whatever it was, it needed to be quick, swift, quiet, and she knew none of those.

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP…

They stopped. She couldn’t see them, she had no idea where they were. But the silence is worse than the loud thumps pounding down her spine. She was breathing loud; she held her breath, hoping to be able to hear them. Her heart was beating louder than ever, that was a bad idea. She let go and started breath, apparently too loud. Cause one of them had his arms around her neck, and had her hands tied up before she could resist. They put a ragged white cloth over her mouth, chloroform. She was out in a split second. She was in trouble.

                                                                _____________

Heather was hot, sweating, and suffocating. They took the brown paper bag off her head, she was on a metal folding chair in, small, dark, kitchen.  There were two men sitting in the living room on the other side of the house. She spoke.

“What’s going on? Why did you take me?”

One of them stood, and breathed. He wore a Flanner checkered shirt, tucked in, boot-cut jeans, He was your stereotypical cowboy impersonator.  After he slowly made his way around the kitchen table, he stood in front of her. He spoke.

“Heather is your name. I know who you are and I know you’re past, far better than you do. My name is Trevor Volting. And I will be your best friend, and protector.”

She had no idea what he was talking about. He is Honest at least. She figured she’d say something or ask a question,“Protector, from what? And why are we here? Where are we?”

He halted her just in time for the door to creek open. A man walked in, he seemed about as lost as her. She read his name tag, it said “Timothy Shelfer”  He’s short.

Trevor spoke “Timothy, I am not your enemy, I’ll assure you that. This is your cousin.” He motioned at her. She was more lost then ever.

She panicked, starting to fidget with her necklace “Cousin? Answer my question. What are you protecting me from?”

“He’s your cousin. Trust us. But first we need to focus on getting out of here. Heather. Stand up. Long story short, our country is about to get into a war that is bigger than we bargained for. They don’t know it yet. But you will be the key to victory for the United States.”

“A key,  Great. I've lived my whole life I had a future. And here I learn from complete strangers, that I’m a freaking key.”

Tim spoke up for the first time, “Heather, calm yourself. The country is going to be forced into a situation where they will need you. It’s a supernatural thing. I know you don’t believe in super powers. But you have them. I have them. It’s in our genes”

Yeah right. These guys were loaded with a bunch of crap. This so called ‘cousin’ of hers is sitting here trying to convince her that she has superpowers? This whole thing is extremely crazy. Then again, it sounds pretty fun. If they think of her as some kind of God, She might be able to make a fortune. What the heck. She might as well…

She put on her best negotiation face “How much are you willing to pay?”

Trevor spoke without hesitation “You’re life, how does that sound?”

With that, it’d be stupid to say no. So she said with hesitation “…Sure, what the heck. I have nothing better to do.” 

He sighed deeply while turning around and looking at one of his guards. He had a gun in his back pocket. Who does that? She stood up and went to the sink, to wash her hands. No water, great. She turned around and looked at Trevor, who was now in the living room, talking to both of his little henchmen.

She spoke loudly, annoyingly, and with power, “So when do you start?”

He turned and stared at her with eyes of hope, “We start as soon as we get a hold of the government, I’m hoping we can get these things figured out before the Germans come to capture-“ But she couldn't listen to his words anymore, she couldn't keep her eyes off the glowing orange light that was just outside. Before she knew it, the house was caving in on them, and the ground was falling beneath them. She couldn't see Trevor, but she didn't care. All she cared for was her own safety.  She could only come to one conclusion while she was running outside of the house. The world had declared war on her, and she can only choose one side. And that side right now, was herself.

A tremor shook the earth underneath her while she was running across the street. She fell to her knees. A school bus was driving right for her. Getting closer, and closer, everything around her was going wrong all at once. And she couldn't do anything. She only wished that she could survive this, or did she? The school bus had no intention of slowing its terrifying pace. She reached out her hands in a last ditch effort the save herself. The bus was nothing short of ten feet from her, when it lifted off the ground.  It was floating along with her hands, as though she was controlling it. Everything around her seemed to have paused. No noise was being made, as though time had been completely stopped. She looked around to see Trevor under a pile of rubble. She hadn't seen Timothy since a few seconds ago in the house, when everything was normal, or more normal. Something struck her neck. She felt no pain, but she blacked out. There was an empty hole in her head, a gap that was incompletely filled, a massive void of subconscious. She was watching herself run out of the house; a straight path of blue light was circling in front of her, shielding her from harm.  She was supernatural.  And then, black. 

When death is crowned: Intro to Timothy Shelfer

Timothy Shelfer, was one of the of the United States best undercover agents. At a towering five feet, five inches, he was pale as a vampire.  Weighing in at 260 pounds, makes up for it in muscle. He put down his pen, signing his name for the hundredth time this morning, he’s only been clocked in for half an hour. Leaning back, thinking about his tiny office, he just moved into it from a cubical a week ago. His phone startled him. Strange, He wasn't easily scared. He reached forward and picked the phone up out of its cradle, took a breath, and spoke.

“Timothy’s office, this is…Timothy”. He said this awkwardly. Somehow he made it to be a field agent. 

A lower voice spoke “Tim, we have your cousin captive. We know what you do, and we know what you’re capable of. Find us and we can negotiate” this voice was muffled. He had no idea who this was. So he asked the obvious question.

“Who is this?”

“Timothy. We know your intelligent, so just find us.”

Tim had no idea what was going on. He had control of his life. Everything was going right, he had a girlfriend, Susan. Who was an amazing girl, always lifted him up, and moved him forward. She was beautiful in his eyes. He had a well-paid Job. A Running car, it was paid for. Everything was going for him. This phone call pulled him out of his comfort zone, threw him in some mud, and kicked him in the face a few times. He forgot he was still on the phone.

“Look I don’t know what you’re talking about, I don’t have a cousin. And-“

The voice interrupted “Her name is Heather Shelfer. Ring a bell?”

Timothy was speechless, this made his skin crawl. “I don’t have any cousins…that I know of”

“Look Tim…” This bothered him. No one calls him Tim. “… We've done the research. What did you Mom tell you about your Dad’s murder?”

Timothy thought this was getting strange, but he answered. “My mother told me that My Dad was murdered alongside my uncle…why?”

“Your uncle’s name was Teddy Shelfer. He was a private investigator. He worked for only those who offered the right price. He was a bounty hunter. But Tim, your uncle was married, he was murdered during his wife’s pregnancy, who died during the birth. But the baby survived.”

This was news to Timothy. He has a cousin. He was starting to question the evil in this phone call. “So how old is this cousin? Is it a ‘He’ or a ‘she’? are you going to hurt-“

The voice interrupted again, how rude, “You have exactly forty-eight hours to be walking in this room, or we will pump her full of cyanide. It will be easy. The clock starts now” Timothy sat there in his suit, lounging in an office chair, realizing he has a cousin in captivity. He needed to save her. He spoke back into the phone 

“I’ll be there, you can count on it” But he realized that he was talking to nobody.  “How rude!”.

Just then his secretary walked in, she looked nice today. Sandra was a short, darker toned, brunette. She walked smoothly up to his desk, with an envelope in her hands. She set it down gently.

“Someone just delivered this, for you. They said you’d better open it, its ‘urgent” She said it in quotation marks, in a lower voice.

Reading it out loud he was taking it all in “You will find us in your home, we made sure your girlfriend won’t be coming for the dinner date. So you can come in with no one else. Sit down at a table with us and we can discuss the matters.”

Sandra had a puzzled look on her face, he tried covering it. “It’s just a joke from a friend. Don’t worry about it. But I need to go.” He stood grabbing his suit coat and putting it on, trying to stay cool. He started making his way past her. Once he got past the wooden door he started running, down the hallway, to the elevator. He smashed the ‘down’ button enough times to please his conscious. The doors opened finally, and he got in and pressed the ‘Ground Floor’ Button. He was whispering under his breath.

“I am Timothy Shelfer. I am five foot, five. I am a 38 years old. I don’t have any parents, I don’t really care one way or another. But one thing I do care about, is this cousin of mine, that I have never met. And I hope that I will be able too. Cause I am a good person.”

                                                 

                                                                       1.2

Timothy was wrong. He was not a good person. He spent his childhood in foster homes bullying the kids in school, two of the kids committed suicide. Once he got to high school, he got involved with Drugs, drinking, and sex. When he was 19, he robbed a convenience store with his friend. When the cops showed up, he grabbed the money, shot his friend in the knee, and took off running. He spent that night in an alley along one of the side roads in New York City. He made a hobby out of making friends and then betraying them. He made money while doing that. And that’s all that matters.  At the age of 23, his reputation came back to bite him. A group of friends who he betrayed found him, raided his apartment, and beat him. A few of them stayed up later to turn him into the cops, where he stayed for 8 years. He was released early for good behavior.  When he got out he was 31 years old. He then joined the military. He quickly worked his way up the ranks. They saw potential in him; at the age of 34 they asked him to be a field agent. He agreed. He had organized a few, clean, successful, assassinations on terrorists. He had become something great. He is a hero. But one thing he had learned, is that you’re enemy’s define who you are. But he, Timothy George Shelfer, had crowned death herself. 

Off to see the Harbor.

Me and My father went out on a photoshoot yesterday, to Harbor Springs Michigan. It's a tourist town, located in Northern Michigan. So here are some of my shots from that trip...

 

 

<-That was jsut an experement. Thanks for looking!

Wet Blankets...

WARNING: The following post is a rant, if you would like to just look at the picture, and skip the rant, just move on to the big number "2" thank you for reading,





#1: I woke up this morning, and double checked to see if it was valentines day. Yep, it is. I thought about how it seems people are making it way more then it is. I see facebook debates, other blogs posting they're stance on this day, also known as "Feb 14th". I find that My stance on it, is I don't have a stance. I would rather use the brain cells fighting for Orphans. 

But in all serousness, It's stupid. I saw as many statuses/blogs about Valentines day as the presidental election last november. Now this is also known as "singles awareness day" but for non-americans, the fourth of july isn't "Not-americans awareness day"

Love exists... let it for those who have it. Now if other countries tried taking away the 4th of July from America, There would be war. When other religions try taking away christmas, it gets to be a big deal.

I find that even with simple statuses, for example "I like oreos" You have people posting "Gross! I hate oreos!" It's like "Then post that as your status, this status is for those who *like* oreos" I like to call those people "Party Poopers" "Wet blankets" or worse of all "Wet socks"

For goodness sake, let someone have fun without being a pickle in a cookie jar. Just let the cookies have fun without getting pickle juice on them, and making them feel soggy and gross, Please! Kay, I'm done now.







#2: Here is my pic for Valentines day