[DEFEAT. is Rendar Frankenstein’s truest attempt at fiction.   Presented in weekly episodes, the novella tells the tale of Daryl Millar – a hero who dies at the intersection of pop culture, science-fiction, war epic, and fantasy]

Daryl Millar wasn’t one to brag. In fact, he held a special disdain for those who gloat about their triumphs. Part of this contempt stemmed from the fact that most braggarts haven’t done nearly as much as they claim. Gum-flapping as a means of self-denial. The rejection of a lackluster life. The other primary set of boasters are those who speak truthfully but only do so as to posture themselves above others. At the end of the day, Daryl believed that most who bragged were either liars or assholes.

Or, maybe even lying assholes.

So it was with some reservation that the protagonist considered phoning his friends. But he just had to tell them about his evening. “I can’t keep this to myself,” he thought, “it was just too unreal. Almost…otherworldly.” Daryl had turned a corner, and was on his street. As he approached his house, he picked up the pace of both his steps and his thoughts.

Thinking on it now, Daryl felt changed, as though shedding the skin of a virgin had not only opened his eyes but granted a third one as well. While he had been trained to connote first sexual experiences with the end of innocence, this was not his current perception. Instead, he felt an overwhelming sense of possibility, as though a door had opened and was urging him to take the final step across the threshold.

Something within had been activated and Daryl was sure that it was pushing him towards redefinition.

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[DEFEAT. is Rendar Frankenstein’s truest attempt at fiction.   Presented in weekly episodes, the novella tells the tale of Daryl Millar – a hero who dies at the intersection of pop culture, science-fiction, war epic, and fantasy]

Daryl leaned forwards and Vanessa leaned backwards. The hero planted a kiss on his girl’s neck. There was enthusiasm only teens are capable of, a willingness to jump right into the thick of things without worrying about details. And that was for the best, too, ‘cause if Daryl started thinking about the particulars he’d have realized he had no clue as to what the fuck he was doing.

Or, more appropriately, how to do the fucking.

But that didn’t matter, because Daryl was a teenager. And as such, he was imbued with that special prowess of life that is lost when one allows bills and taxes and getting to the office on time and counting calories and changing the batteries in the smoke alarm to take precedence. When that happens life is no longer an experience but a goddamn calculation. Less of something to enjoy and more of something to figure out. Not a gift, but an expense.

Daryl and Vanessa didn’t concern themselves with such misdirecting thoughts. Instead, they went full-throttle into one another, grappling with a passion that could’ve been mistaken for violence had clothes not been removed. Neither had ever gone all the way before, but there was no doubt in either’s mind now.

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[DEFEAT. is Rendar Frankenstein’s truest attempt at fiction.   Presented in weekly episodes, the novella tells the tale of Daryl Millar – a hero who dies at the intersection of pop culture, science-fiction, war epic, and fantasy]

Wednesday morning.

Daryl woke up dizzy and thirsty, but he wasn’t convinced that he could blame it on the Colt 45. No, Daryl remembered that by the time he had come home and gotten into bed he had been sober. Practically. But trying to stand up, he couldn’t shake off his light head and tight chest.

“Why’re my damn lungs on fire?”

And then the recollection. Cigarettes and incense and smoke. He had been totally absorbed. Yes, Daryl now saw images of the mystic who had shown him…well, he knew what she had shown him, but it was too early to start trying to figure out what it meant.

“Hiya there, kiddo!” interjected Gramps, just in time to prevent the dangerous heavy thinking that sometimes follows an evening of heavy drinking. Easing his way through the threshold, Clark moved towards his favorite grandchild. “From the looks of it, I’d guess that someone had a good time last night!” The elder statesman of the Millar tribe slapped his grandson on the shoulder, laughing and remembering his own youthful indiscretions. “I hope she was worth it — and if I know you, I’m sure she was!”

“Nah, Gramps, nothing like that — it was a night out with the boys.” Sitting back down on the edge of his bed, Daryl shot a hand through his hair.

“Oh, I thought I had heard something about you taking out a lady?”

Remembering his plans for the evening, Daryl reassured himself. “Oh yeah! I’m taking Vanessa out tonight!”

Gramps inquired, with a glimmer in his eyes of a man who knows, “And what is it that you’re planning on doing with this Vanessa?”

“Well, I think we’re going to head to the movies.”

“Good idea — nice and dark, you can really make your move in a theater!”

“Gramps!”

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[DEFEAT. is Rendar Frankenstein’s truest attempt at fiction.   Presented in weekly episodes, the novella tells the tale of Daryl Millar – a hero who dies at the intersection of pop culture, science-fiction, war epic, and fantasy]

Like any noble leader, Daryl allowed a bit of entertainment only after ensuring that his friends were given their opportunities. 8-Bit returned, looking as baffled as ever. Daryl tried to reassure himself. “At the very least, it can’t be any lamer than that Ouija Board we tried to use.” 8-Bit and Riff didn’t say a word, but responded with eyes that did plenty of talking.

What you’re about to experience is the real deal.

Surprised by the reproachful staring of his two best friends, Daryl was now forced to reconsider his dismissal of the Woman in Gray Robes. Zipping his lips and nodding, steps were taken into the supernatural workplace.

Quickly accepting the possibility that he was graced by the presence unknown forces, Daryl was only marginally astonished by Rimina’s greeting. “Well hello there, Daryl, I’m quite glad to see you. Always the best for last, I suppose. I can already tell that the soothsaying I am to provide you will be of the utmost importance.

“So sit down, time is of the essence, especially in your case.” Outstretched hands, one of which held a cigarette (of course), beckoned the teen to rest in the chair. He was now directly in front of the embodiment of conflicting messages:

A woman doing the job of a wise man.
A pirate’s accessory on an astoundingly sexy face.
A healthy disposition residing in such an unhealthy environment.

Daryl was ready. So was Rimina. Sensing the beginnings of psychic fatigue, the last remaining leaf from the Jacoby tree did not ask for permission. Instead, she simply took an especially long drag from her cigarette and then snatched hold of Daryl’s hands. She waited a few seconds. When his eyes looked upward from the table Rimina blew smoke right into them. The exhalation was both blinding and eye-opening…

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[DEFEAT. is Rendar Frankenstein’s truest attempt at fiction.   Presented in weekly episodes, the novella tells the tale of Daryl Millar – a hero who dies at the intersection of pop culture, science-fiction, war epic, and fantasy]

8-Bit didn’t wait to ask Riff how it went. We walked right past his friend, eager to get his own turn at gazing towards the future. His yearning to the watch the lion tamer had completely subsided when he saw those clowns in mid-coitus, and that previous excitement was now wholly invested in having his fortune read. Any other night, 8-Bit would have disregarded this sort of psychic endeavor as a base attempt to rip off the simpleminded.

But tonight was a night for celebration. A night for trying new things.

Inside the small tent, 8-Bit removed his huge glasses and frantically rubbed the lenses with the bottom of his t-shirt. The glasses were put back on, met with disapproval, and then removed for another scrubbing. With the spectacles back on, 8-Bit realized that they weren’t the source of visual impairment. It was all of the damn smoke.

“Lady, you might want to think about conjuring up some ventilation. I’m not even smoking that stuff, but I feel like I could use an iron lung. I’m cancer-bound for sure.”

Laughing, Rimina gave a sample of her talents. “8-Bit, you’re not going to get cancer from the smoke in here. If you do get cancer, it will be a brain tumor. And it will kill you on your ninety-third birthday. So don’t blame my incense. Or my recreational use of tobacco.”

Sobered by both her words and the nonchalance with which she spoke them, 8-Bit was ready to listen. “Can you…can you tell me more?”

“Of course. That’s why I get paid the big bucks.” Rimina’s cigarette, the fourth since her meeting with Riff, was brought to her dark lips. As before, an inhalation was coupled with the grasping of handsand followed by a hearty exhalation…

Exploration. Lots of exploration, all over… the world. The worlds. In a (not-too-distant) future, the teen with coke-bottle glasses turns into the man with coke-bottle glasses, and for the first time in this existence the look actually helps him fit in. It is the realm of academia — real academia, not just the optional four-year layover before going to work. There are schools and professors and textbooks stacked higher than one might think they should be. That’s dangerous he thinks they could very well fall over. Of course, worrying even now, during a glimpse past the present circumstances and into the future. Stop worrying the female voice, communicating without speaking, reminds him. Seemingly endless work is piling up, but the academic does not cave into the pitfalls of frustration. For this man, defeat is not an option, for the knowledge-seeking of the vision bearer is not a matter of being worthwhile in its own right — it is a deliberate attempt to construct a means to an end. There is a goal. Of discovery. Of impossibility? Many think so. But not the scholar. For he is atypical. He turns to the unconventional, the dangerous, and even the manipulation of the mind through use of the illicit.

But now, the future has slipped away and it is 1986 again. It is yesterday, before school. It is yesterday, at the arcade. It is today? At the circus? Now, is this the end of the week? The pep rally? Is this now or later? Both? It is unknown, but there are feelings of success and gratitude and love and accomplishment. There is work to be done.

“Heed my words — this is but one of the many, a mere sliver of a broken shard from the entire mirror of existence, whose inward reflections of itself far outnumber the outward. This fate has been neither determined nor surrendered. If it pleases you, think of it with cautious optimism. If it displeases you, change yourself so that you may best fit within this world.”

[to be continued]

[DEFEAT. is Rendar Frankenstein’s truest attempt at fiction.   Presented in weekly episodes, the novella tells the tale of Daryl Millar – a hero who dies at the intersection of pop culture, science-fiction, war epic, and fantasy]

The first to go in, Riff found himself wondering why Ray Dean had called her the Woman in Gray Robes. The moniker wasn’t inaccurate. But he thought a far more distinguishing title would have been The Lady with the Eyepatch. He just couldn’t take his eyes off that damn circle of black swatch.

One may be inclined to think that strapping an eyepatch on a beautiful face would be like smearing shit on a painting. But in this candlelit room, the smoke of incense and cigarettes swirling about, it was more akin to adding the cherry to an ice cream sundae.

Necessary to legitimize the entire experience.

Sitting on a small beanbag chair, the fortuneteller waved Riff towards her. “Come, come, child. Sit down with me. You are intrigued by my eye, are you not?”

Riff tacitly nodded as he found his seat.

“Don’t be afraid. I may have a restricted license and Jaws 3D was a waste of time, but I can still see better than most. Much better.”

Rimina flashed a smile, knowing that the teenager before her was opening up enough for divinations. “Lean in,” her sultry voice commanded, “and I will free your mind from the chains of the flesh. The shackles of the material. The handcuffs of the temporal. Come with me.”

Rimina took an extended drag from her cigarette. Held it in. Returned the cigarette to an ashtray. And then she took both of Riff’s hands into her own and exhaled…

Guitars. Lots of guitars, being played by an older version of the antihero. Sometimes, the smoke swirled in a direction so that Riff could see himself playing music on stage. Sometimes the stage was small. Sometimes the stage was large. Sometimes there were huge crowds of people watching the shredder demonstrate his craft. Was that Castle Donington? He wasn’t sure. But it sure looked like it. Other times, the bluish carcinogenic wisps danced in revelation of a guitarist playing a true solo — hiding away in some room, under self-imposed isolation with an acoustic guitar. The fingers of the hazy figure flew over the fretboard with a precision and speed that the world’s best surgeons could only dream of. A quick flash — the tombstone – an enforcer of the law – the father — the tyrant — dead — gone – thankfully — not missed. A return to the guitar, now slung over the shoulder. The guitarist iseen walking on the road. A future of some uncertainty… and some certainty. Hidden hardships in store, no doubt, but with the guarantee of a face pained chiefly by its grin of accomplishment.

“Heed my words — this is but one of the many, a mere sliver of a broken shard from the entire mirror of existence, whose inward reflections of itself far outnumber the outward. This fate has been neither determined nor surrendered. If it pleases you, think of it with cautious optimism. If it displeases you, change yourself so that you may best fit within this world.”

[to be continued]

[DEFEAT. is Rendar Frankenstein’s truest attempt at fiction.   Presented in weekly episodes, the novella tells the tale of Daryl Millar – a hero who dies at the intersection of pop culture, science-fiction, war epic, and fantasy]

Born into a family of mysterious vagrants, Rimina Jacoby spent her first years in Bavaria. Shortly thereafter, the Jacoby family was ousted by local villagers who grew suspicious of their idiosyncrasies. The family headed for Portugal, along with the remaining Bendjiems, whose widower of a father had been murdered. And, if the rumors were true, raped. The suspect – the brother of local woman Father Bendjiem had begun courting.

In a villa outside of Faro, both the families Jacoby and Bendjiem were absorbed into a small but accommodating gypsy population. As a toddler, Rimina learned how to persuade marketplace fools to spend too much money on flowers. They were stolen from a cemetery only a quarter-mile away. Her dirty hands and shoeless feet evoked pity while her rosy cheeks evoked the wallets.

She was the perfect resource for a society struggling for subsistence.

That was, of course, until the dog bit her left eye out. On Rimina’s seventh birthday she made the mistake of trying to sell stolen flowers to Pedro Jordão. Not only was Jordão the drunkest resident of the villa but he was also in a state of sorrow. Grieving for his recently deceased wife. So when the dirty gypsy girl with the delightful smile tried to sell him the same basket of flowers he had left for his wife that very morning, he lost his fucking mind.

With the command to SIC! this insanity was transferred from Pedro to his enormous Cujo of a mutt.

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[DEFEAT. is Rendar Frankenstein’s truest attempt at fiction.   Presented in weekly episodes, the novella tells the tale of Daryl Millar – a hero who dies at the intersection of pop culture, science-fiction, war epic, and fantasy]

Originally, I thought it would have been a simple matter of hooking up some crazy shit to an obsolete model of automobile, using plutonium for fuel, and hoping for the best. But that wasn’t the case at all. Well, the plutonium was needed, but not the rest of that stuff.

The mission at hand was one without precedent. Therefore, I felt the need to pursue a train of thought that would not only challenge my sensibilities, but the sensibilities of the entire scientific community. I needed to learn a lot about physics, redefine even more, and do it in as short amount of time as possible. I find myself now laughing at that last qualifier, realizing how my success completely negates its importance. Nevertheless, I felt that I had to have the minds of the most brilliant few at my very whim.

My inability to squeeze a female breast in high school may not have been the cause, but it certainly correlated positively with my ability to choose any collegiate program of my liking. In the end, I decided to take MIT up on their offer of direct admission into their PhD program for Experimental/Condensed Matter Physics. And while Cambridge proved to be Boston’s pretentious and unbelievably socially retarded twin, it was my enrollment in this institution that has led me to my current destination.

So, if any of my professors or mentors from MIT are reading this, I offer two messages:
1)           Thanks for all the help.
2)           Fuck you, I did it.

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[DEFEAT. is Rendar Frankenstein’s truest attempt at fiction.   Presented in weekly episodes, the novella tells the tale of Daryl Millar – a hero who dies at the intersection of pop culture, science-fiction, war epic, and fantasy]

Daryl Millar walked through the doors of the cafeteria, toting only his brown-bagged lunch and a growing sense of optimism. But then he saw his two best friends sitting on opposing benches of their table.

Black eyes.
Split lips.
The need for a call to arms.

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Every Tuesday I post a section of my novella DEFEAT. While I think the readership of OL would be interested in a science fictional tale guaranteed to end with the hero killing himself at the nexus of his reality, I know that there’s skepticism about the value of any fiction appearing on the `net. Whatevs, bro!

However, every episode of DEFEAT. is accompanied by a piece of gorgeous art by my pal Brian Galiano. I’ve given him free reign to do whatever he wants – every Tuesday I just check my email – and the results have been fantastic.

Hit the jump to check out all of the art that Bri has submitted thus far!

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