Death Is Too Merciful: Prologue

I knew what she was when I married her. Still, I thought I could change her. Mold her. Make her a new being.

How wrong I had been, then. How naive. Trusting.

At first, she seemed to change. She seemed happy. Willing to be a decent human being.

And I relaxed. Perhaps a little too much. Yes, I became too comfortable. Too lax.

No one was safe from her wrath. Not the children. Not me. Not those who chose to visit.

She became abusive. Mentally. Physically. Emotionally. Sexually.

And I was powerless to stop her. Not even my calm demeanor could prevent her from losing her calm.

The children could hide. I could not. I was too big to hide under a bed. Or even in a closet.

Besides. No one would ever believe that I was afraid of her. Or even abused by her.

Nothing could make her happy. No amount of housework. No amount of cooking. No amount of sex.

The more I gave, the more she expected. What I refused to give willingly, she took against my will. And I was left with my shame.

I felt as if I was weak. Unmanly. I had become a submissive man. A subjugated man.

I had been raised to never hit a woman. I had been taught to respect them with every fiber of my being. Even when they were violent and abusive.

 Thus, I refused to hit her. I refused to lift a finger against her. Even when she was at her worst.

As a result, I could not go out into public. For fear some would see the bruises and ask. For fear I would have to lie.

After all, who would believe me if I told the truth? Who would ever believe that she was what she was? Who would accept that I, not her, was the victim?

But her cruelty did not stop there. No, when hitting and kicking did not work, she began poisoning. The first to succumb were the girls. 

But I, being who I was, was too strong for her attempts against my life;. I lived. Why, I will never know.

But each dose had begun to twist my mind. And to blacken my heart. God knows it must have killed my soul.

I became cold. Indifferent. Calculating.

And I began to plot her end. Anything to end the hell I was in. 


Now, I looked down at her. So peaceful. A smile on her face…finally.

She looked as if she could be sleeping. But she was now dead. She wouldn’t be hurting anyone else. 

I had seen to that. I had ended her reign of terror. No one else would have to worry about her.

And no one would miss her. Not at first. That would give me enough time to disappear. 

I could disappear and change my name. Change my looks. My clothes.

Of course, I would have to burn down the house we had shared. Too much evidence left behind not to.

And I couldn’t have the police searching for me. I had to be gone before they realized my deception. I had to vanish before they realized that the body I had left as mine was a mere cadaver. Some anonymous soul I had found in the morgue that looked like me. 

To make it look real, I had shot the body twice. One shot would have been lethal had it been a living person. I had even placed my own blood at the scene.

Hell. I had pumped some of my blood into the body so that it spurted all over the room. It had been a brilliant stroke of genius. 

And it had to be in order to fool the law.  And to fool my family and friends. What friends I had left.

For all intents and purposes, I was dead. The cadaver had seen to that. 

I had seen to that out of necessity. I needed to die with her. For an obvious reason.

She had made me swear a blood oath to observe a suicide pact. If she were to die, I was to commit suicide. And so, the cadaver had stood in for me.

I had bested her. I had outlasted her. And I had fulfilled my end without actually dying.

In effect, I had committed suicide without dying. How clever I had been! How ingenious. 

But she was definitely dead. I had killed her myself. I had strangled her. 

And I had drained her of her blood. But I had done so without a drop being left in the house! And I had buried in the backyard with the children. 

The children she had forced me to bury even though I was ill because of her poisons. Children she accused me of killing. Children I felt guilty for not being able to save.

The police would be sure to find those graves. And the bottle of her blood. But not her.

No, she would be buried miles away. In an unmarked grave. Somewhere deep in a swamp. I had seen to that.

I smiled despite myself. Or, perhaps, to spite myself. I couldn’t tell which. 

Still, my madness continued to grow, a sense of glee rising at the sight of her dead body. A slight, yet maddened, giggle began to escape my lips. A weight had been lifted and I now felt free.

I began shoveling mud and dirt into the hole on top of her. She would be unnoticed here. There were no cabins for miles. No houses. 

No people. No one would even discover her grave. Not for a while, anyway.

No one knew that I had a connection to this place. Not even she had known. Hell. Not even my own mother had known.

But then, I had never let anyone know. I had never brought anyone here. Not until now.

And she was never going to tell. She was beyond caring. Beyond being aware of her surroundings.

I had picked the perfect burial spot. One where a large flat rock sat. and I had moved the rock off the spot to dig. After throwing the final shovel full of dirt onto the grave, I pulled the large, flat rock back over the spot. 

She would be proud. It was probably the same thing she would have done to me had she killed me instead. It was poetic justice.

The rock covered a little more than just the grave. It covered an area twice, maybe thrice, the size of the grave. Thus, it would not sink into the grave. It would merely keep it hidden. But it would still mark it. 

Not that I would ever come back. I wouldn’t. I had no need.

I was finally free. I no longer had to try and please her. I was no longer under her thumb.


Death Is Too Merciful…Before I Begin…

Before I begin posting the finished chapters of Death Is Too Merciful, I must warn the reader that the story kind of popped into my head with all that has been going on in the world of entertainment and law (the court battle between Amber Heard and Johnny Depp). Having been in a couple abusive relationships, I do understand some of the thoughts that enter an abused person’s head when they are being abused. It is these thoughts that are fueling this story. Whether it ends as it begins….well, that is another tale altogether.

I was never the aggressor in any relationship, but there were times it was hard to remain a gentleman. The abuse came in many forms. Verbal (you’re not that good in bed, you’re worthless, you’re not a man). Physical. Mental. Emotional.

No matter how bad it was for me, I know that it was ten times worse for the children who were part of my life. A part of the relationship. My stepson. My stepdaughters.

And even though I attempted to be a buffer for them, I sometimes failed. And, sometimes, without meaning to, I added to it. Out of anger. Out of frustration.

I am not trying to excuse my behavior. I am merely admitting that I had approached things wrongly. That I should have handled things differently.

I am also admitting to realizing that I was unaware of the fact that some of what the children were doing was rebelling against the abuse of their mothers. I see that now. I just didn’t see it then.

But having been away from both women (and I use the word loosely, as a woman would have been more mature and less abusive…more grateful for one who treated them with respect and dignity), I can now see it. I can now realize that my reactions to some of what the children did was not met with wisdom or understanding. Still, it is too late to go back and fix what had been done.

Anyway, I am straying. This story follows the thoughts of an abused person. Yes, I get a little too real with what usually remains thoughts in the story. No, I do not believe in such things.

As the story progresses, there may be things that might trigger sensitive people. Though It is not intended to do so, it is intended to provoke thought. It is also intended to give insight on how one toxic partner can cause the whole relationship to become toxic.

I know, I know….

sorry for the silence. Been busy. Surviving takes so much out of a man.

I have, however, reached a point where I have realized that I am not going to be able to continue doing as I have. I can no longer logically believe that working for the store is going to keep me alive.

Especially not since my hours have been cut. Thus, I have decided to build my own business. Something more stable. Something a little more profitable and beneficial.

After all, profit and benefit are not the same. Very few things that profit us are truly beneficial. And very few things that benefit us are ever truly profitable.

Something the greedy still have not learned. Or the wealthy. But, then, both seem to go hand in hand don’t they?

So….what have I decided to build as a business? Glad you asked.

I have decided to start up my own streaming service. After all, as an author it does seem to be the natural next step. Aside from the entertainment company (film and music studios) that I originally planned on building back in my 20s, of course.

Oh, I still plan on building those as well, but this is phase 1. The starting point. And a swell starting point it is.

You see, this streaming service is not just for my works. I intend to extend a chance to all indie authors to place their works there as well. And by works, I mean the films/series’s that they produce independently. If they have such on hand. (And I hope that you do. At least some of you)

A part of this new service will be a live stream option for Pay-per-view style live events. Bands, theater troupes, high school sports teams, and any other [rated G] entertainment will be offered a chance to maximize their profits through offering a live showing that can be accessed through Pay-per-view options with or without a subscription.

The idea is to help as many as I can while I rise…and still maintain a low cost subscription to make the service attractive. I cannot make it too low, though. can’t keep things running on nothing.

In the beginning, indie producers will be invited to upload their productions to the regular streaming channel free of charge. These producers will earn royalties from their works throughout the month for as long as their movie/series is on the service. as the service begins to pick up customers and gets to the point where it can afford to, I will begin buying the rights to indie books, short stories, and scripts. For the books and short stories, I will hire screenwriters to adapt. For all, I will hire crews to produce.

While this is a ways off, and only meant to be a small portion of the material, It is a wonderful plan. First things first, though. First, I need to get the service off the ground and the first films and shows placed on it for audiences to explore.

My Idea For A Reality Series

Honest opinions. Would you watch this?


Jay’s World

Reality Series Proposal

Tagline: the reality that is “success” is not found in following those who were born to wealth and watching them throw money, money that they have inherited, at hobbies and projects that will most possibly fail. Real success is found in following someone who is changing his path, fighting to build a career, and trying to resurrect and revive a dying community while he does so.


What is success? And exactly who can we call successful? Society would tell you that success is measured in how much money one makes. Or how much wealth one has.

But is it really? Do these factors really determine true success? Or is this a lie told by those who have never worked a day in their lives for the money they waste in order to gain our respect?

I was not born wealthy. Nor was I born to an upper middle class family where there was plenty of money to go around. Nor did I have rich relatives who thought I should inherit a part of their wealth.

I grew up in a family where the struggle at the bottom was real. Where my father was so disillusioned with life that he could not see a way out of the poverty he believed he had inherited. Where I was told, on a daily basis, that you can’t get there from here.

I grew up without many of the things that most grow up taking for granted. Financial security. Possessions I once believed separated me from my friends.

I grew up believing that I was poor. And, in many ways, we were. Though my father’s paychecks kept us just above the poverty line, economically, we could not-or should I say, he believed we could not-afford many of the things I witnessed others having.

He could have been a successful blackpowder gunmaker. He could have built replicas for Hollywood films. And yet, he was afraid to try. He was afraid to let go and venture beyond his comfort zone.

As a result, he was afraid to succeed simply because a fear of failure is also a fear of success. And such a fear causes one to fail because they fail to ever begin. Yes, failure is to never begin.

Not succeeding is merely lessons in what doesn’t work as we make our way to success. What ensures success is learning from those things that did not work so that we might formulate what will. And this is not merely throwing money at a side project to stave off one’s decadent boredom. 

It isn’t starting out with an inheritance. Nor is it starting something simply so you can have a tax write-off. Hell. It isn’t even just starting up something so you can end up selling it off for more than you invested into it.

No, the truly successful begin with absolutely nothing or nearly nothing. They build a business for three reasons. Reasons that have nothing to do with getting rich quick.

These reasons are as follows:

  1. Because they see a need. 
  2. To create jobs.
  3. To bring revenue into the community.

I see a need to resurrect and revive a dying community that has a rich history. A proud history. I also see that the future is not in working for others. It is in starting new businesses and creating jobs for others.

Especially in rural America. Where jobs are scarce. And where poverty is growing.

As a struggling author, I have seen every aspect of life. I have even experienced every aspect of life. I have worked at almost everything trying to survive. 

I have realized that people like Donald Trump and Kim Kardasshian are not successful. They are merely inheritors of wealth who believe that throwing money at projects is success. They have no experience in true success. 

They have never experienced hunger due to having to cut costs in order to ensure that the business succeeds. They have never had to weigh which bill had to go unpaid. Which food item they would not buy in order to conserve their funds, or the uncertainty of whether or not they had the money to buy a new pair of pants, shoes, underwear, or shirt. 

They have never gone hungry. Or homeless. Or even without a livable wage.

They see not being in the limelight, as a public figure, as being poor. As being unsuccessful. 

In this series, I endeavor to show the true origins of success. And that success has nothing to do with wealth or privilege but that it has everything to do with what one does for their community.  I endeavor to show people that one person can make a difference and that politics and wealth have nothing to do with being an inspiration. 


My main purpose, in producing this series, is to bring reality back. To prove that a single person can be a force of change in both their community and in society in general. To prove that wealth does not make one successful, it only makes one wealthy…and ignorant of reality. 

Secondary purpose is to allow people to see the process of change, growth, and success. To show the audience how it is done so that they might also go and do something similar and not feel as if it takes being wealthy to do what needs to be done.

Periphery purposes are to show my own personal success as an author, artist, entrepreneur, and integral part of my community. To show how what one does in a community is directly linked to the growth and health of that community. To open the minds of the viewer to reality.

Beyond this, the series will be an entity that will evolve as it hits certain milestones. It will expand its scope after the first milestones are reached. Subject matter will change as the community changes. 

My ultimate purpose, overall, is to prove that one does not have to be well known in order to change things at all levels. Politically. Economically. Socially. Spiritually.

I also intend to debunk myths using facts and historical/archeological proof. But this is not to be done, if it can be helped, in the first few seasons. I intend to spread the evolution of the show out over multiple seasons.


As the series opens, we begin to explore the novels, novellas, poetry, and lyrics of Jaysen True Blood. In this exploration, we talk about the inspiration, his influences, and origins of some of his sagas and novels. We also explore his past.

To be caught on tape will be business meetings, meetings with local and county officials, and whoever else walks into his office. People to appear on camera will be any who join his staff, band, and/or personal mission. As well as his mother (occasionally). 

Over the series, we will watch as Jay starts up each of his businesses and teaches young entrepreneurs his unique business plan and theory and as each business begins to be successful. We will also witness the effects of those businesses on his community, county, and state. 

To help him build some of his businesses, Jay will call in experts in each area. Food processing. Paper and plastic milling. Winemaking and liquor distilling. Fashion and tailory. Cheesemaking and dairy products. Manufacturing electric vehicles. And so on. 

The idea is to bring back pride in the community through building businesses operated by local labor, to help a rural community revive from near death and grow into a burgeoning, bustling industrial community. To reintroduce a sense of community and belonging to all in the community.

The result is to refocus on local owned and operated and away from international monopolistic conglomerates. It is also to build a community large enough and successful enough to sustain a small retirement community and draw in those who would live there….but also to shift community government’s attention from a single age demographic to the larger picture of the multiple demographics contained within the community in order to utilize the community’s full potential rather than killing it through the strangulation that happens with narrow minded restriction of growth. 

There will be no scripting. No prompts. Just a schedule to be followed and an objective to achieve. This is reality as it happens, not a fictional representation of a perceived reality as scripted. This is both PR for a library of work as well as the exploration of how one can be a force of change in their own community. The object is to ope others up to the idea that they, too, can effect change within their communities through watching someone else do it in realtime. 

What will be shown: the struggle to bring change and to succeed as a businessman. The struggles of being an author looking to become the next ‘best seller’. The building of a professional team that sees the same vision and is willing to follow wherever I may lead. The idea that dreams can and do come true.

I am an extremely private person. I am an introvert. Just my allowing others in to see what I am trying to accomplish is a triumph in its own right. 

I just want to show what is possible if you set your mind to it. And I want to leave a roadmap for others to follow. In the most public way possible.

At the moment, there is no ‘cast’ or crew. Therefore, the cost is low, at least for me, and all that I will accrue from this will go into business ventures. Very little will be used by me. What will be used by me will be used for necessities. Nothing more.

The idea is that the success of the community is my success. What I do is for the benefit of others, not for my overall profit. After all, profit and benefit are not the same. One can benefit from things that do not profit them, but no one benefits from that which is done solely to bring profit.

Therefore, my intent is to better my community, county, and state…and ultimately region and country. But the latter are eventualities, not immediate motives. To better my community, I must build businesses that offer employment opportunities, locally, that they can earn a livable wage rather than slave wages. 

In doing so, I will better the plight/lives of the individuals. By bettering the lives of those around me, I will be bettering the community in general. By bettering the community, I will set the example and pace for the county, the region, then the state. 

When the county sees the rise in the city’s revenue from the sudden growth in businesses, it will be more likely to promote a similar (if not the same) program in other small communities that are in sad need of revival. Once the region (the counties in the immediate area) sees a rise in revenue within the county, they will desire the same and promote similar programs. The result will be the state doing likewise…eventually. 


I am looking for the best deal where a contract for this idea is concerned. Though I know my worth, I also know that no company will pay what I am worth. Therefore, I am willing to settle for the middle, but only for my own part of the agreement, as long as I am also permitted a certain allotment from merchandising and whatever else may develop. 

As for the cast and crew….

When the cast (those who begin appearing in my series regularly, IE. my mother, any person who joins my mission, etc.) grows, they will have to negotiate their own contracts. The only thing I expect is that the crew (camera, lights, sound, makeup, producer/director) are all paid well. 

Note: this is not about my profit. It never has been. It is, however, about resurrecting a community and helping it utilize its full potential. There is nothing worse than to see the potential of a community go to waste/be unrealized simply because of small minded individuals.

A Story (yet to be given a title): Author’s Note

Author’s Note:

Before I begin working the story, I need to explain the premise. First of all, I am a student of history. I accept new evidence when it is corroborated by more than one archaeologist’s findings. I understand that what we know as history is but the tip of the iceberg. It isn’t the whole story.

Mythology and legends are one part oral history to every ten parts of supposition and fiction. Your basic tall tale. Yes, there is always a grain of truth held within a myth.

As such, one must be able to detach themselves from the myth just enough to not get taken in and made a true believer. To believe is to allow yourself to be misled. Made a fool.

With this in mind, understand that this is a work of fiction based on a hypothesis based on both historical findings and the realization that there is more to our history than we realize. In essence, it hypothesizes that mankind could easily be millions of years old, not mere millennia. Based on the findings of fossilized human foot prints that date back six or seven million years. Not thousands.

It is also based on the revelation that the city of Jericho was in existence for several thousand years (the town was 9000 years old, the land settled 10,000 years ago. Thus, at the time it is spoken of in the Bible, the city had been around for at least 4000 years before its being recorded as being ‘defeated’.

This story also takes into consideration that Biblical books like Job mention a time in human history/memory where the continents were still one land mass. This means that we have a memory of what Archaeologists call “Pangaea”. Thus, humans remembered being around for longer than just a thousand or so years. More like millions.

Our ancestors just could not remember our origins. Thus, they claimed that we were created. Not that creation was the truth.

My purpose is not to dispute the idea of creation. My purpose is to propose that, perhaps, we have been around for longer than a few millennia. I want to pose the idea that we have existed for a few million years longer than the current proof has us here. I propose that just because proof is lacking, that that does not mean that it isn’t possible.


Fresh off the press:

The Death Of Humanity will soon be in audiobook form. It will be brilliantly narrated by Michelle Morgan. I just approved the first round finished audio and am now waiting for Audible to release it.

Both Midnight At The Oasis and Prelude To A Myth, Book 2 are nearing completion. This means that they will both be published around the same time. After I finish Prelude To A Myth, Book 3, I will begin finishing Tales From The Renge: Tales Of Antiquity: The Chronicles Of King Qarkis I, Book 2 as well as The Morrow Family Saga, Series 2: 1960s, Book 2 and The Badlands Saga, Book 2. I may also begin The Hell Patrol Saga, Book 2 as well.

With TFR and The Morrow Family Saga, Series II, I intend to finish the remaining nine books in the series. Just as I have done with TFR: The Prophecy and The Morrow Family Saga, Series I. this will push both sagas closer to completion.

With Tales, the completion of The Chronicles Of King Qarkis I will give the saga its beginning. At least the beginning of the human empires. There is a second half of the saga planned out,but I have no plans to start it any time soon.

My main concern, at the moment, is getting the human/mortal half of the saga set down from beginning to end. Not filling out the stories of the gods and first races. This is because I had most of the material for the later half already in my possession.

As for The Morrow Family Saga, I will have to do a shit ton of research just to keep the 1960s in the series as accurate as possible. shouldn’t be too hard. Just tedious.

The Badlands (book 1), The Hell Patrol (book 1), Tales From The Renge: The Prophecy (Book 2) The Morrow Family Saga, Series 1 (book 5), Twenty-Five Days Of Christmas, and The Incident At Three Corners are all out as projects, but have been accepted by producers. Angel Of Death: Dreams I’ll Never See, and 7: Seven Short Stories are still awaiting their moment as audiobooks, but I have not heard back from the producers that were supposed to get back with me. unfortunately, neither of them have answered my messages to them. Messages I sent to check on them and make sure they were alright.

Hopefully, all will be resolved before long and I will have all the audiobooks on the market. After all, it has been my foray into audiobooks that has brought me closer to my goal of making a comfortable living as an author.

Good News

I have several audiobooks coming out, but before I get to that, let me tell you of other developments. Firstly, I removed the four ebooks in the Hell Patrol Saga and the three Badlands Saga ebooks. I combined both into two thicker books-The Hell Patrol Saga, Fall of the proud, Fall Into Darkness, and episodes 1-5 and The Badlands Saga episodes 1-6. I also released Prelude To A Myth: The Beginning Of The End (How It Began), Book 1:Not Your Ordinary Soul.

And if that wasn’t enough, I also put up several books for audiobook production. The Hell Patrol Saga, The Badlands Saga, The Death Of Humanity, Twenty-Five Days Of Christmas, and The Incident At Three Corners will join the books already available at Audible (and on Applebooks). I am also hoping that Tales From The Renge: The Prophecy, Book 2: Birth Of A Savior, The Morrow Family Saga, series 2: 1950s, Book 4: StarBaby, Dreams I’ll Never See, and Seven By Jay: Seven Short Stories will also grace my finished list as the producers involved in the first two have returned to continue the stories, but I await to hear from the latter two producers and fear that they may not be able to complete their contractual obligations.

Still, the overall news is delicious. I have the next installments in Prelude To A Myth begun. I also have Midnight At The Oasis, one of the novels tied into Door On The Thirteenth Floor and The Incident At Three Corners, almost completed and the first book in Haunted Iowa, Oleo Acres, started…though Olov has yet to speak to me again. And to make things more tasty, I also plan on returning to both The Badlands Saga and The Hell Patrol Saga to finish them out. I also await my tax returns and the past three stimulus payments so I can finally release books 4-7 in the Angel Of Death series (all of which can be read in past posts here on this blog) as well as the first book in the Witchdoctor series.While I wait, I will finish what I have got in the offing and publish them.

The Alpha Triad Cycle

I have begun the permanent removal of all books in The Alpha Triad cycle. The Remaining books will be removed from Amazon after they are ordered and received by me. This means that three of the books–The Soul Shard Chronicles, Books 1 and 2 and The Dimensional Wars Are now out of print for good.

These leave both Delta Link International books as well as Pawns of Revenge and possible one or two more books. The reason is simple. I will be integrating the episodes into Prelude To A Myth and future books in Stranger Than Fiction.

the idea, of course, is to flesh out the existing episodes–the ones I will be using, anyway–and add to the storyline of the saga being told. This will make the Stranger Than Fiction saga longer and darker.

The original books will not be going back into print. If you would like to buy copies, you can still get them through Draft2Digital for a limited time. Once I finish buying myself copies for my own library, they will be removed from D2D as well.

Thorogon’s Transgression, Chapter 2

“What is the meaning of this?” Judge General Jorrin demanded.

“What is what?” Norrim responded.

“What is this, this, this, recusing yourself from the Thorogon case?” The Judge General reasserted.

“Oh,” he frowned, “that.”

“So?” Jorrin tapped his foot impatiently.

“I feel he has valid points,” he averred, “and I cannot, in good conscience, preside over his sentencing.”

“The law is clear on these things, Nor,” Jorrin remanded him, “one simply cannot ignore the law.”

“But laws can be unjust and unethical,” he admitted, “and thus wrong to uphold.”

“This falls under neither,” Jorrin frowned, “you should know that. Now, you are in peril of being convicted of aiding and abetting.”

“No, Jor, I am not,” he shook his head, “and I am right. As was he. Some things should not be subject to law. Not even when it is meant to preserve us. Thorogon comes from an age before the law. A time when immortality was still new. He is not a willing participant in this world and that, alone, should stand for something.”

“It doesn’t,” Jorrin stated coldly, “since he lived when the laws he now seeks to break were made. Where was his voice then?”

“Ask him,” he shrugged, “though I would wager he voiced his disapproval and found his voice unheeded.”

“And now?” The Judge General insisted.

“He has voiced his disapproval  in his opening statements with truths I cannot deny,” he looked away, “ones I cannot ignore for law’s sake.”

“Then,” Jorrin scowled, “you are done as a judge.”

“So be it,” he stated, resigned, “it was bound to happen at some point.”

“That kind of thinking is apocryphal,” the Judge General growled, “and undoubtedly heretical.”

“Apocryphal my ass,” he smiled involuntarily, “and no more heretical than our supposition of the role of God.”

“But we have become gods,” Jorrin snorted, “there is no need for a deity above us. We have supplanted all other deities. We are the very God you speak of.”

“No, Jor,” he shook his head, “we are not. Nature, the world around us, and the universe are the gods we have always sought.”


Thorogon paced in his cell, contemplating his fate. He smiled. They had no choice but to execute him now. 

He would remember when these cells were first designed. He had helped design and build them. But that had been centuries ago.

Then, they had not been intended to hold people like him. People who sought to retain their mortality through dying at their natural times. No, they had been meant for incorrigibles. Those who refused to stop murdering, raping, and stealing. 

Not for those who had felt that they had lived long enough. Or a bit too long. And he had lived way too long.

He had opposed the laws that forbade self-euthenasia once immortality was the norm. Yet, when it all began, immortality was not the norm. It had been the exception.

It had begun with a single person. Over time, every generation had at least one. Then, more and more people began to show up as immortal. 

But it had started after mankind had become immune, through medical advancement in creating vaccines, to everything including cancer. From there, life expectancy grew by leaps and bounds. Yet, death had remained a constant.

In the beginning, laws had not forbade death. It had forbade only murder and maltreatment. And though it was illegal to medically assist in suicides, it was not illegal to commit suicide. 

He remembered those first years. Immortality was a novelty. It was new. 

With immortality came elongated reproduction cycles. Women began having babies at all adult ages, even ages past what had been menopause. Slowly, the population rose.

Humanity was curious about it. What would it gift them? What would its price be?

Once the newness had worn off, boredom set in.  there was no thrill. No logic.

What should have been a blessing was more of a curse. Life unending was so unnecessary. So illogical.

And then, the laws began to change. Life was for living, the authorities had said. There would be no desiring death.

And so, it became illegal to commit suicide. Or even to desire death. Boredom became illegal.

But without death, there was a threat of overpopulation worse than any scientist in the past could have dreamed of. There was also the threat of complete depletion of food and water. 

And yet, they foolishly passed laws that forbade suicide. These laws caused a surge in population that caused them to pass more laws, reminiscent of ancient absolutist China, that limited births and pregnancies.

The fools. Those laws had not worked before.  They wouldn’t work after being implemented.


High Director Landor was beside himself. Laws long held as infallible were now being challenged. Laws that had been meant to bring harmony and unity.

They had not brought either. Instead,  they had brought the opposite. And caused some to question the ethics of those laws. 

Too many were now questioning the morality of them. The rightness. The validity.

What made it bad was that he couldn’t blame them. Immortality was both a blessing and a curse. The birth laws had been meant to limit the population in a way that would preserve natural resources, they had not. 

Food was running low. Available space for farming was almost nonexistent. And wild game was now extinct.

Without war, abortion, and natural death, there was nothing to thin the population. A population that continued to climb. A population that had no purpose anymore.

And a population without a purpose was bored. Too bored to enjoy immortality. Too bored to appreciate its existence.

Why had nature also removed the need for food as well? It would have solved many of the problems now being faced. The same events that now threatened to cause humanity’s extinction.

Even he understood that. And yet, the laws were still in place. Still condemning thousands to death for mere thoughts.

Morally, it was wrong. Legally, it was right. Ethically, it was against all that was natural.

And yet, even his very thinking could send him to his death. Just knowing the truth. Just admitting the truth.

In order to change his possible fate, the laws had to change. But could they be changed in time to spare his own life?  He sighed. 

That was a good question. And one he didn’t have the answer to.

A Little Note

Before I forget…

I did something a couple months ago. You can now get the full first series in the Morrow Family Saga here:

and the full Tales From The Renge: The Prophecy here:

This is for the ebooks only (wish Amazon would sell the paperbacks as sets as well).