The Frozen Man - A Tale of Neo-Ancient Terror
Have you met your demons? Have you met your guardian angels? Have your nightmares ever kept you from waking up? Have you ever been afraid to fall asleep? Have you ever feared what can erupt from within you without your permission? Have you ever had disturbing and perverse thoughts you could not control or make vanish? Don't be surprised that you can ... or you can't. The Frozen Man is an adult, horror short story.
ISBN: 958-1546556565 Paper 140 pages 5 x 8
Hanshi Wisdom Press $9.95
Purchase Autographed Copy
ISBN: 958-1546556565 Paper 140 pages 5 x 8
Hanshi Wisdom Press $9.95
Purchase Autographed Copy
Chapter Sample
Forcing himself to stay awake and drinking cup after cup of black coffee didn't allay the inevitability of falling asleep on the couch. Wrapped in a terry bathrobe and covered with a heavy blanket, he simply drifted away into the oblivion of Morpheus as the cold began to take hold of his body and mind. He heard a whimpering through the darkness and knew it was himself unable to move as the cold became unbearable. Suddenly, he was awake in his dream and heard the thundering of hoof beats from afar. He saw the horse and rider coming closer and, try as he might, he could not move. He left his body and, looking down, saw rivulets of sweat on the thing he knew was his body turning to ice. Trying every maneuver to twist away from the sight, he failed and only became more detached from the body he had left behind, still feeling the intense cold. And then she came upon him, who he suddenly knew from some vague remembrance, was the Old Hag with her twisted and horribly wrinkled face and engirdled with a serpent, riding on the magnificent black steed, and holding what looked like a lance in preparation of a joust.
He tried to scream, and it was silent, though he knew he was doing so but to no avail and without effect. The hideous war cry from the Old Hag buried itself deep into him as he felt the lance penetrate his supine body lying beneath him. It twisted and turned as his entrails spilled out through the enveloping ice that covered him. He heard her grotesque laughter as swarms of maggots appeared from nowhere and began to devour his flesh. The Hag's putrid breath was in his face, and he heard a shrill voice screaming, “naqaaaam.” He felt himself blasted back to consciousness and woke up drenched in a frozen sweat and smelled the stink of vomit and defecation that permeated his entire core.
Hallucinations wracked his brain as he saw the decayed remains of a woman he had once known and heard her maniacal laugh as the bones of her hand pointed at him in motions of stabbing. He stopped trying to wake himself from the dream and fell back into another dimension; he did not feel the cold. Finally, his eyes opened and he felt calmness amid the morass of stink and excrement. He urinated and took strange comfort in the warmth wallowing in it as he pulled the blanket over his head. He lay like that until he heard noise from the television that pulled him from his stupor as he forced himself to stand up.
He tried to scream, and it was silent, though he knew he was doing so but to no avail and without effect. The hideous war cry from the Old Hag buried itself deep into him as he felt the lance penetrate his supine body lying beneath him. It twisted and turned as his entrails spilled out through the enveloping ice that covered him. He heard her grotesque laughter as swarms of maggots appeared from nowhere and began to devour his flesh. The Hag's putrid breath was in his face, and he heard a shrill voice screaming, “naqaaaam.” He felt himself blasted back to consciousness and woke up drenched in a frozen sweat and smelled the stink of vomit and defecation that permeated his entire core.
Hallucinations wracked his brain as he saw the decayed remains of a woman he had once known and heard her maniacal laugh as the bones of her hand pointed at him in motions of stabbing. He stopped trying to wake himself from the dream and fell back into another dimension; he did not feel the cold. Finally, his eyes opened and he felt calmness amid the morass of stink and excrement. He urinated and took strange comfort in the warmth wallowing in it as he pulled the blanket over his head. He lay like that until he heard noise from the television that pulled him from his stupor as he forced himself to stand up.
ABRACADAVER - And Other Satories and Poems
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“Satories” is correct—the author’s pun for enlightening short stories and poems composed over a period of time that shows the development of Kaufman’s artistic development. In Abracadaver you will learn what happens when a detective investigates the absquatulation of someone who hasn’t disappeared … things ARE what they seem to be.
Strangers tells the story of two completely different people coming to terms with their attraction to each other. Final Port tells of the sinking of a merchant vessel and the conflict resolution between shipmates. The fight scene from The Hanshi in Brussels is followed by 8 poetic forms sure to grab the reader’s interest. ISBN-13: 978-1500378523 Paper 140 pages 5 x 8 Hanshi Wisdom Press $9.95 Purchase Autographed Copy |
Book Sample
from Abracadaver - Chapter 1
I watched as James Larey blew smoke from his Hav-A-Tampa Sweet into quaint concentric circles. I told him what he had to know, and yet, he only sat back and laughed.
“You actually think I’m going to buy that kind of nonsense,” he said right into my face. “I’ve been reporting for twenty-three years and I never heard the goofball stuff you’re tryin’ to lay off on me.”
I asked him why it was so hard for him to fathom.
“Weirder stuff has happened before,” I said. “Just because you don’t happen to understand it doesn’t mean it isn’t true. Lot’s of ancient tribes used to pull off magic like it on an everyday basis. What I’m telling you is a straight count. You ever read Castenada? He talks about related impossibilities also.”
“No, Pal, and I don’t read National Pornographics either. Sorry, no deal. I deal in reality and not fantasy. I’ll give you ten buck for your trouble. Nobody grows wings and flies to the moon.”
“Fine,” I shot back at him. “I’ll take it to another paper. I might even put it on the ‘net.' Somebody will believe it, and I’m not looking for the cash even though somebody will buy it, and I’ll make a couple on it. I’m telling you Mr. Larey, it’s real. There are people like him, and there are women like her. We just don’t get to meet too many of them, and when we do, we mostly don’t give it more than a passing nod.”
He glanced at me and then took another hit from his little cigar. Drumming his fingers on his desk, he turned and looked out of the window at the teeming rain making green dots on the glass reflected from the neon sign across the street.
He turned back to me and I couldn’t help notice his obvious condescending pursed lips.
“Okay, I’ll tell you what, guy. Run this fable by me again and don’t leave out any choice tidbits, but make me believe it ... make me believe it.”
“You can call me Phil if you want,” I said. “I’ll start at the beginning. You know, sometimes I have trouble dealing with it myself. This is no flying saucer baloney either.”
“Do you mind if I tape this?” he asked. I want to make sure I don’t miss anything when I play it back.”
“Go ahead,” I told him.
The rain continued to pelt the windowpanes in his office, a distant thunder reverberated through the city canyons, and I began again ….
I watched as James Larey blew smoke from his Hav-A-Tampa Sweet into quaint concentric circles. I told him what he had to know, and yet, he only sat back and laughed.
“You actually think I’m going to buy that kind of nonsense,” he said right into my face. “I’ve been reporting for twenty-three years and I never heard the goofball stuff you’re tryin’ to lay off on me.”
I asked him why it was so hard for him to fathom.
“Weirder stuff has happened before,” I said. “Just because you don’t happen to understand it doesn’t mean it isn’t true. Lot’s of ancient tribes used to pull off magic like it on an everyday basis. What I’m telling you is a straight count. You ever read Castenada? He talks about related impossibilities also.”
“No, Pal, and I don’t read National Pornographics either. Sorry, no deal. I deal in reality and not fantasy. I’ll give you ten buck for your trouble. Nobody grows wings and flies to the moon.”
“Fine,” I shot back at him. “I’ll take it to another paper. I might even put it on the ‘net.' Somebody will believe it, and I’m not looking for the cash even though somebody will buy it, and I’ll make a couple on it. I’m telling you Mr. Larey, it’s real. There are people like him, and there are women like her. We just don’t get to meet too many of them, and when we do, we mostly don’t give it more than a passing nod.”
He glanced at me and then took another hit from his little cigar. Drumming his fingers on his desk, he turned and looked out of the window at the teeming rain making green dots on the glass reflected from the neon sign across the street.
He turned back to me and I couldn’t help notice his obvious condescending pursed lips.
“Okay, I’ll tell you what, guy. Run this fable by me again and don’t leave out any choice tidbits, but make me believe it ... make me believe it.”
“You can call me Phil if you want,” I said. “I’ll start at the beginning. You know, sometimes I have trouble dealing with it myself. This is no flying saucer baloney either.”
“Do you mind if I tape this?” he asked. I want to make sure I don’t miss anything when I play it back.”
“Go ahead,” I told him.
The rain continued to pelt the windowpanes in his office, a distant thunder reverberated through the city canyons, and I began again ….
About the Author
Stephen F. Kaufman
I am the author of the best-selling interpretations of Musashi's Book of Five Rings, Sun Tzu's Art of War, along with The Living Tao, The Shogun's Scroll, The Way of the Modern Warrior, and The Sword in the Boardroom, which focuses on business management based on honesty, integrity, and morality for contemporary negotiations. I speak with true understanding of the lessons taught by the ancient masters and focuses on the immediate needs of groups. My work is considered essential study for individuals and organizations interested in progressive management/motivation development that includes life enhancement skills. Visit my homepage at www.hanshi.com
