Versus the Multiverse by Kyle Darnell

I am pleased to announce my new novel, "Versus the Multiverse" is now available for purchase from Amazon. It is illustrated with 14 22x30" relief prints.

Here is the blurb from the back.

"Kyle Darnell was a sweet little boy. Playing with action figures and watching wrestling was all that he wanted to do. That was until his brother killed him, sending Kyle to another Universe and into an adult body where he got mixed up in all sorts of trouble. From shoot outs in the Old West town of Eastwood, to Lucha Libre matches in ancient Meso-America, and all the inter-planetary struggles of first loves, God, and this asshole called "The Morning Star." Kyle will have to deal with all of this while treading the delicate balance of Multiverse Theory, Time Travel, and how the hell to get home. Suspenseful, strange, and full of all the sci-fi hoopla you could want in the illustrated adventures of "Versus the Multiverse"


Thank you all for the continued support.


KDvtM Chapter 4: Eastwood by Kyle Darnell

Good job, you have made it past the weirdness. From here on out everything is normal and believable. Here's Chapter Four of "Kyle Darnell vs. the Multiverse", Eastwood. 


Chapter 4: Eastwood

Kyle wakes up, inexplicably, he is alive. Unfortunately for him, his surroundings aren’t familiar. On the floor of a wooden room lined with shelves of rusty cans, saws, and other minutiae. Kyle assumes it is a tool shed of some sort, one that has lacked basic maintenance for some time, considering the age of the implements hanging on the wall.

He reaches out at a sawhorse, to help him get up. While reaching out, he notices a glove on his right hand, with a note tucked in the wrist. Reaching with his left to pull it out, he freezes. His arms are significantly longer than he remembered, and his hands were those of an adult.

“Ahhhh!” he screams, quickly getting up. He looks down, examining the rest of his body. Somewhere from falling off the swimming pool in California and now, he had grown up. His face  was unkempt, a slight overgrowth of facial hair adorned his chin. Kyle was now panicking. He looked through the shed for some clothes, finding a dirty white button up shirt, blue jeans with suspenders. They weren't a good fit, made for someone exceedingly smaller than him, but they will have to do.

Walking towards the barn style doors over the dirt floor barefooted, Kyle caught his reflection in a small mirror. He couldn’t make out his face very clearly, so he tried to wipe the mirror off. When his vision remained the same Kyle grew even more anxious of his new surroundings. Everything was blurry. He did however find a pair of glasses in the left front pocket of the shirt. Putting them on, the thick black frames squared out his face nicely, but more importantly, he could see. Looking into the mirror, Kyle hadn’t just grown up, he was a man, a very tall one at that.

“But none of this makes any sense.” he muttered. He had vague memories of what happened at the pool. Of his brother pushing him, of time slowing. “How am I here?”

Looking down at the glove on his hand, he remembered the yellowish note tucked away. He opened it and read.

“Dear Kyle,

I know this can be confusing, and you might be pretty raw at whatever did this to you, but you are here for a purpose. If you wish to find answers, simply seek them out. When the time comes, you will find me. But be warned, if you come at the King, you better not miss. Use the glove and chain in case of emergency. And sorry about your vision, it’s part of the process. You’ll get used to it.

Later man,


Kyle looked around, even more confused by the note.”Who is G? And what does he want with me?” he pondered. Looking down at his glove, he also questioned what use it had. “Just an ordinary black glove, and where was this chain?” Figuring this could be like his glasses, he checked his person, patting himself down he stopped on his left back jeans pocket, reached in and pulled out a gold woven link chain.

“Now what do I do with it?” he sat down on the saw horse. Passing the chain from his left to his right hand, he noticed the glove start to glow. Which made him stop, pulling them apart. “What the shit?” he put the chain into his gloved hand and it started to glow again. Turning his hand over, the back of the glove started to pulse with tiny white dots that faded into a brilliant, almost infinite  array of colors.

“Its an exploding galaxy! How cool!” He shouted. “I wonder what happens if I do this.” He clenched his gloved hand, extended his index finger out and his thumb up. “Nothing, maybe if I think about it really hard or something.”

“BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNGGG!!!” His gloved fired of a beam of energy out of his index finger, blowing out the wall of the shed, and knocking Kyle to the ground.

“Holy shit!” he exclaimed as he got up, knocking the dust off of him in the process. “I wonder what else this thing can do.”

“BANG,BANG,BANG!” A loud knock came from the door. “This is Sheriff Mackleroy. Put down your weapons and come out with your hands up!” a deep, gravelly voice boomed from the other side..

Kyle ran over to the door, locking it with a large plank of wood, propped up underneath the handles. He had no idea what to do, this isn’t exactly a position that a five year old stuck in a twenty somethings body has encountered. Kyle figured reasoning could at worst help his situation.

“What do you want?” He answered. “I haven’t done nothing to nobody.”

“You see,”  Sherriff Mackleroy continued, “You did. You blew a hole straight through our local mechanic’s tool shed, scaring all the local lady folk.”

“I did?” Kyle was feigning ignorance. He had learned from his Shaggy ft. RikRok that in any negative circumstances, to deny. “Well, it wasn’t me! Come back later.”

“That just won’t do.  Why don’t you come out, and we can discuss this like men. Face to face.”

“No” Kyle is looking for a way out, hoping that he can just be left alone, to figure out this world he is in.

“On the count of three I am coming in.” Sherriff Mackleroy insinuated. “If you want this to go easier, I would prefer you come out now. One!”

“On three?”


“On three. Like youre coming in on three?” Kyle was stalling. “Or One, Two, Three,  then you come in after three?”

“I figure I am coming in on three if that works with you.”

“Thats fine.” Kyle tied the gold chain to his left wrist, in case he needed to use his gun, but didn’t want it to fall out of his gloved hand.

“TWO!” his voice grew louder.

Kyle frantically weighed his options; 1) he could get caught, face jail, but possibly get some answers to what is going on or, 2) Run out the the hole in the wall, guns blazing, and maybe get away, living off the land like a wilderman.

“Three!” he opened the door, swinging out as the plank falls to the ground. In his panic, Kyle didn’t check to see which way the door opened, ruining his lock.

Kyle froze. A man walked in wearing a red button-up shirt, black jeans, and boots with spurs. The light glimmered off the badge on his chest that read Sherriff, obscuring his face. “Now hold it right there.” he demanded.

“I’m unarmed.” Kyle said sheepishly, apparently choosing option number 1.

“Put your hands together above your head.” said the sheriff, with a silver single-action revolver pointed at Kyle’s chest.

“Hey man, no problem.” He clasped his hands straight above him. His glove started to glow from it’s connection to the chain. Kyle noticed and reconsidered his options.

“Alright, now turn around slowly and walk backwards to me.”

“I didn’t do anything.” Kyle said as he turned around.

“You obviously did.” he laughed. “I am glad however that you chose to make this go easily.”

“BOOOOOM!” Kyle fired his finger gun straight up, blowing out the roof and sending debris all around. He darted for the hole in the wall he had made previously, finally deciding on option number 2.

“Dammit!” coughed the sheriff, swiping away dust and debris with his pistol.

Kyle emerged outside, blinded by the light of the midday sun. No, midday suns as he noticed two stars illuminating the dusty, unpaved streets below his feet. “What is this? The old West?” Kyle questioned his sanity. A crowd had gathered, in what was apparently the town square, watching him through masks as he tried his escape. They poured out of their rustic wooden homes and shops. Kyle couldn’t get a grip on his surroundings. Dozens of men, women, and children, all wearing different types of masks, showing no emotion.

Just watching.

Kyle could see a far off city in the distance, made up beyond his wildest fevered dreams of the future. Glowing, highly mechanical, and clearly technologically superior to the town he was currently in.

Kyle couldn’t handle it.

He stopped, trying to capture his breath. His head was spinning trying to process all of this information. An old west town next to a city of the future on a planet with two suns as all the towns folk stared at his now adult self through frightening masks.

Kyle vomited then passed out, landing face first into the puke.


Kyle awoke in a strange place, a process that was becoming all too routine. He was on the top bunk of a metal bunk bed. He squeed with delight, he was home.

“Quite up there!” a voice yelled from out of view.

Kyle jumped down off of the bed, his head was above the top bunk, he was still an adult.  He looked around noticing three tight walls of wood, with a barred up front. He was in a jail cell, he was not home.

“Hey,” Kyle tried to get the attention of the voice. “Where am I?”

“Jail.” Sherriff Mackleroy emerged into view outside of the bars wearing a blacked out mask protruding away from his face. It had a snout and fangs, resembling a German Sheppard. “You made a bit of a mess back there.”

“I’m sorry.” Kyle walked to the front of the cell, gripping the bars with his bare hands. His glove and chain were gone, a problem he needed to rectify immediately. “This is all a big misunderstanding.”

“I understand perfectly.” The sherriff held Kyles glove in his hand. “This is a weapon, a dangerous one, that you probably got from the city in an attempt to rob our town for drug money. You addicts are all the same.”

“Sir, I don’t do drugs.” Kyle pleaded with him. “My name is Kyle Darnell, I am five years old and just appeared here from California after an argument with my brother. You have to believe me, this is a huge misunderstanding.”

“Hahahahahaha,” the sherriff cackled, “That is rich. I got to tell my deputy Sam, he loves crazy inmate stories.”

“Sir, I am not lying. Please!”

Sherriff Mackleroy left the room. Kyle was by himself, he hated to be alone. He began to pace in the cell and monsters formed from the shadows. He feared the Thud would return. Creaks and cracks emanate from the walls, filling Kyle’s ears with dread. No one could save him. The monsters grew larger and Kyle ran to the bottom bunk and covered himself in the blankets.

“Kyle?” a different voice came from out of view. It’s deputy Sam here.”

Kyle peered out of the covers.

“Can we have a quick chat?” Sam asked.

“You’re here to not believe me too, huh?” He went back under the covers.

“No sir, its just me. I think I can help you.”

Kyle removed the covers and once again approached the bars of the cell. Sam was standing on the other side, alone. He was dressed in jeans, a black button up shirt underneath a leather jacket, boots, and a very similar mask to what Mackleroy was wearing. “What do you want to talk about?

Sam pulled up a chair and sat down, a book tucked under his arm. “Could you please tell me more about your story?”

“Well, it’s pretty straight forward.” Kyle sat on his bed and continued talking. “I got in an argument with my brother inCali when I was five. He pushed me off a ledge cracking open my head. Then I woke up as an adult, here in...?”


“Yeah, and I had that glove you have there.” Kyle pointed his hand like a gun. “And I could blow everything away.”

“Do you believe in fate?” Deputy Sam threw Kyle his glove through the bars of the jail cell, landing in his lap.

“I don’t know what I believe anymore.” Kyle put on the glove.

“I had a dream last night. Sam stood up out of his chair and began to pace. “In this dream there was a tall man, without a mask, gunning down evil with the power of the right hand of God.”

“And you believe that man to be me?” Kyle pointed at himself.

“I do believe that, yes. You see, things aren’t what they seem out here. I have heard stories about Earth, that is where the Godself is from.”

“So were not on Earth?”

“No, we are on Better Eden. A planet the Godself made out of his great mercy and love for us.”

“You’ve said that a few times now; Godself, what is that?”

“Now I definately know your not from here.” Deputy Sam let out a big laugh. “Everyone knows of the Godself, he is our creator. Like most people, I am a devout follower.”

Kyle let out a sigh, “Great. A new planet, a new God, and I have a feeling I am going to become involved in all new problems.”

Deputy Sam walked toward the door, “You bet your ass you are.” and walked out of the room.

Kyle just wanted answers. More importantly, answers that could get him home. It doesn’t seem like that will be an option for awhile. The frustration of not being able to do anything was weighing on him. Trapped in this cell all he could do was pace back and forth, kill time until a sentencing was handed down. What would they do to him? This place was forign yet somethings stay the same. Could it be this Godself’s doing? He apparently was from Earth, like Kyle.

Sherriff Mackleroy entered the room. “Today is your lucky day.”  He approached the bars and put the key in the lock. “Now I want you to listen carefully.”

“All ears!” Kyle cuffed his hands on the top of his head.

“Seeing as you don’t have any money to pay for the repairs on the tool shed.” The sherriff paused unlocking the door, Kyle grew anxious. “And Id rather not have you stinking up my jail. You will work off the repairs.”

Kyle exclaimed with glee, jumping off of the bed. “Thank you, you won’t regret this. I should mention though that I don’t know how to fix damages to a shed.”

Mackleroy chuckled. “Figured as much. No, we have something that could better fit your current situation as well as you special set of skills you displayed earlier.”

Kyle looked at his gloved hand. “You want me to blow something up?”

“Oh God no.” he unlocked the door. “I want you to work for us, doing a little bit of bounty work.”

“Thats where I come in.” Deputy Sam said as he entered the room. “More specifically you are going to work with me to catch someone we haven’t been able to get our hands on.”

“Yeah, this was all Sam’s idea.” Sherriff Mackleroy stared straight through Sam. “And if this goes poorly, it will be his ass on the line.”

“I promise I won’t mess this up.” Kyle said as he exited the jail, “But I need my chain.”

Deputy Sam threw him the gold chain. “Youre going to need a lot more than that.” He walked up to Kyle and extended his right hand, waiting for Kyle to return the favor and shake his hand. “Partner.”

Kyle shook his hand. “Partner.”

“Sam will fill you in on the details.” said the sherriff. “I’m going to go fix that shed you destroyed.”

“Again, I am sorry for that.”

“Just make sure you get that thing in check.” the Sherrif started to leave the room. “There is alot of innocent people out there. And I am going on a hell of a limb giving you this chance. Don’t make me a fool.” He exited the room.

“So Sam, where do we start?” Kyle grinned.

“We need you to get better control on that thing.” Sam pointed at his glove.


KDvtM Interlogue: Re-Membering the Godself by Kyle Darnell


Reintroducing the main character from my MFA thesis, the Godself. He is a character that was born through a re-imagining of my faults and insecurities. My stretchmarks that cover my body became his halo, my fractured teeth became his cross to bear, my lumbering height and poor posture gave him an extra foot to survey all he wants. He went through a series of trials taken from the bible that created his Godly powers. Born of a supernova, he transcends powers to a superhuman level, but ultimately can't truly enact them because his creation is of faults. And embracing faults can (apparently) lead to a pretty shitty person.  

Also "Interlogue" is a word I made up, but it is a way of telling a parallel story that affects the main arc. So, love the word, you'll be seeing it a few more times. 

Interlogue: Re-Membering the Godself

A man floats through deep space. Wearing a blue light jacket with red and grey stripes, jeans, orange and blue sneakers, and wire rimmed golden glasses, he looks sharp. Surrounding his head is a brightly shining golden helmet. Transparent, it shows his face and what appears to be zigzaged black stripes, emanating outside of his face, but still trapped inside the halo. He calls himself the Godself, a supernatural deity traversing the cosmos looking for worshipers to give him the proper respect he deserves.

He is going to the Tarantula nebula, a place he has had visions of since he was a little boy. The Godself believes that, when he was born in 1987, the star that went supernova inside of this region of space announced his birth, proclaiming his right as the God of this Universe. He can see it off in the distance, trapped in the spiraling arm of the Milky Way.

“Double time, now.” He speaks to his feet which start to glow blue and he starts to run. He is not actually on any ground, and in fact he could probably just remain floating in the same position and generate speed through his new godly powers, but it appears that he is a stickler for some sort of normalcy. So off he goes, running on nothing towards a very bright red and green collection of gasses nestled within the vastness of space.

He arrives in the blink of an eye, stopping on the fifth planet he sees. Just a floating hunk of rock, there are no signs of life. Touching down on the barren wasteland beneath him, he lets out a sigh, “This place seems as good as any.” and takes out a black bandanna with white markings resembling a fractured smile from his left pocket and wipes his brow. He wrings the sweat out of the bandanna, dripping onto the ground. The planet starts shaking violently.

Spewing forth from the sweat soaked ground, a rainbow shoots out in all directions, seemingly covering the entire planet in its majestic glow. The Godself begins to walk amongst the nigh unobtainable light, smirking at his own reverence. The trembling continues, shaking the rainbow into different configurations. Distorting, undulating, and almost bursting at the seams of each color. Shapes begin to form, growing to colossal proportions beneath the multicolored veil.

The Godself materializes a golden pole and, without touching it, stands it firmly into the wet soil. Tying the bandanna to the pole like a flag he shouts, “I give you life. You are my subordinates, AND I AM YOUR GOD!”

The rainbow floats high, reaching the stratosphere where it comfortably hovers. The ground is no longer rocky and barren. The familiar sights of Earth, of trees and oceans, blankets the planet. A veritable paradise surrounds him, like the jungles of Costa Rica, with snakes and bugs encircling him as if to offer worship. The Godself laughs “This is good, but where are the people?”

He zooms upward, surveying the land for signs of intelligent life. Finding none in the immediate area, he flies North. Over mountains and unspeakable monsters in the ocean, he finds none. Stopping over a snow covered valley, he crosses his legs and thinks, “How do I get some people here?” Stroking the stubble on his face, he continues to think, dwelling on what made his home planet so special.

Sticking his finger straight up in the air, he has a eureka moment. “The Sun,” he shouts, “I need a Sun!” The far off glow of the nebulous clouds surrounding him was obscuring the far off stars. Wasting no time, he clapses his hands together and closes his eyes. A yellow glow begins to emanate through his fingers. Concentrating, contorting his face as if he were impersonating Ace Ventura, he opens his hands. A small glowing sphere floats up. Getting larger and larger it continues skyward, obliterating the rainbow shell. Still growing larger, it continues up farther away and into the cosmos, sucking in smaller stars and planets along the way. The Godself holds up his right hand, contorting fingers into a tube, stretching his arm out as far as he can reach he follows the trajectory of his Sun. Waiting for it to fill the hole in his hand.As it just barely reaches the approximate size, he clenches his hand, halting the sphere in it’s place.

“That should be about right.” he proclaims. Looking around, the light of the sun has bleached out the surrounding area, melting all of the snow and flooding most of the land, nearly wiping out all of the life he had previously created.

“Crap,” he exclaims, “crap, crap, crap. I forgot an atmosphere!” He swipes his hands from left to right, creating clouds then pushes them out, stretching far across the sky, encircling the planet. “That should be good for now.” He yawns, slightly covering the broken teeth in his mouth.

He flies down to the planet, his new home, and lays down, materializing a white pillow out of the air, he puts it under his head after taking off his helmet. “Time to take quick little nap.” stretching his arms out as he spoke, the Godself fell asleep, hoping to awaken to some worshipers and possibly, some new friends.

#### (***Denotes new scene***)

The Godself awoke, cold and alone. Looking around, darkness engulfed him. Straining his eyes, he peered through the black, hoping for signs of his new worshipers. There were none. The trees have all long since died, and the planet was returning to its previous wasteland state.

“How long was I out?” he pondered. Flying through the sky, he looked for his previous creation, a paradise created solely to house his subordinates. He found nothing, only death and decay. Questioning the validity of the scenario, he sought answers. “Wheres my Sun?” Gazing upward, there was no warmth giving ball of light, just empty space. He flew around the planet, thinking that if it was night, the Sun would be on the other side. Nothing, it was gone.

“Well,” he noticed a sun sized hole stretching as far he could see through the nebula, “son of a bitch.” It appeared as if someone had taken it from him. Not one to be fooled with, the Godself flew as fast as he could, following the trail that would hopefully lead to his new enemy.

After a good long trek, he noticed that instead of flying, he was being pulled in. As if the Godself was caught in the gravitational pull of some mighty, otherworldly body. Noticing a bright light off in the distance, he decided that this was indeed the right course of action, that someone had taken his Sun, and he was hot on their heels. He followed cautiously, not knowing what to expect.

In a moment he was there, using all of his power to will himself to stand still. A violently swirling mass of clouds encircled an invisible yet brightly shining sphere. Approaching cautiously, he spoke. “Did you steal my Sun?”

“I don’t think so.” said a female voice.

“What is this?,” the Godself looked around, trying to find the voice.

“Well this,” the voice continued, “is me. I’m Mary, nice to meet you.”

“What is me? Where are you?” He shouted.

“I’m inside the swirling clouds. Wait...I’ll turn off the pull for a second.”

The intense display of violent stellar action halted. The clouds parted and uncovered a black sphere, maybe the size of a small car. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“Well hello there.” He blushed, then bowed forward extending his hand. “I am the Godself. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Mary, was it?”

“Yes it was,” the clouds surrounding her blushed red, “and likewise. I don’t see many strangers come my way, so this is a nice surprise.”

“Yes it is. Well we could chit chat like this all day, but I am kind of looking for something.”

“Your sun was it?”

“Yes” he exclaimed, “Have you seen it?”

“I don’t know.” Mary paused for a moment. “What is a Sun exactly?”

“It’s a giant ball of super-hot gas, about as big as the surrounding area.” he pointed side to side. “And yellow. Big and yellow and hot.”

“Thats not really ringi...wait.” she paused to think again, “I do remember something like that from when I was younger. Maybe a Millennial ago.”

“And? And?” the Godself’s eyes shone brightly.

“And well... I think I ate it.” Mary said shamefully.

Godselfs jaw dropped. “What do you mean you ate it?”

“I’m kinda sorta a black hole, so it’s in my nature.”

“What do you mean it’s in your nature?” He responded furiously. “Can it be somethings nature to steal my Sun and kill my planet?”

“You don’t know what a black hole is, do you?” she laughed as the Godself grew impatient. “A black hole just eats things. Well, everything. I can sometimes turn off the gravitational pull, but most of the time I don’t see it coming. I can’t tell you the types of things I have eaten.”

“So you just pull in everything around you, not caring about what it is, then devour it?”

“Correct.” she responded.

“Then how come you didn’t take my planet too? Or the clouds? or any other planet I passed by on my way here?” He demanded.

“You may not like me for this.” she said shyly.

The Godself crossed his arms and said, “Try me.”

“You see, I havent talked to anybody in a long time. And I could sense your presence when you started up...?”

“Better Eden.” he said curtly.

“Better Eden, I thought you might come by and we might have a nice chat.” anxiety crept over her, as if in a moment, he would be gone and she would be alone again. “And after you didn’t come by, I feared that you would never come by.”

“And then you...?”

“And then I pulled in your sun, figuring you would chase it then we could finally meet. But then you never came. How long did it take you to figure out that your sun was gone? I feel that I did this a thousand years ago.”

“If you must know, I was napping.” He uncrossed his arms and pointed his finger at her.


“I WAS TIRED! Gods need naps too. Or else I’ll get cranky.”

“If this is what you are like well rested then I fear the alternative.”

“Enough, let me get this straight.” He began to gesture his fingers, miming counting. “You stole my Sun, killed my planet and all that inhabit it, and...” he paused, “Stole my heart.”

Mary blushed again. “Really?”

“That is the most romantic thing has ever done for me.” he got closer to her, floating just three feet away. “Do you like spaghetti?”

“I don’t know, is that like the gases that surround us?”

“No, it’s noodles and marinara sauce and meatballs and it’s the best.”

“I guess I could try it.” her clouds flashing a soft red.

“Then it’s a date!”

“A date?” she had no idea of what that was.

“A date, you know? I’ll make you dinner, we will sit and chat about common interests over a bottle of wine, or beer, whatever you like.”

“That sounds nice.”

“I’ll come by here in a week after I fix up my planet and dinner.”

The Godself flew away after they exchanged goodbyes and Mary turned on her gravitational pull again. His heart was racing. From disaster to a date is a lot to process, but he couldn’t be more excited.

He landed on his planet and began to rebuild. It was a long and repetitive task, but he had something to look forward too.


KDvtM Chapter 3: Albatross by Kyle Darnell

Here is chapter 3 of my NaNoWriMo project Kyle Darnell versus the Multiverse and my increasingly burdensome trials of accountability.

Chapter 3: Albatross

Kyle has a plan to rescue his brother Chris from whatever has abducted him. Armed with a slotted wooden spoon, a metal spatula, and a blue miniature bat he received from going to the San Diego Padres baseball game with his church's youth group last year, he exits the front door.

Standing now on the walkway that connects all of the second floor residents of the Continental Apartment complex, he leans over the railing to survey his surroundings. Looking right, just down the stairwell next to the gated front entrance he sees the landlord leading a small karate class. Kyle, in exchange for helping to clean up the place, has received lessons from him the past year. He will act as a last resort in case Kyle can’t find Chris on his own volition.

The apartment complex, all four sides standing three stories high encircles the main common area. Not for swimming since it is filled with dirt, the kidney-bean shaped raised pool has several gardens planted by residents which acts as a community service project. Upon harvest of the corn, tomatoes, and the like, will celebrate with a department wide block party lead by the Super. Last years party got out of hand as some of the residents became too drunk, which of course leads to fights, broken windows, and mercifully ending with the cops coming in to break up the nonsense. While Kyle doesn’t look forward to that, he has helped tend to the garden to help procure a small  10x10’ section for all of the kids to play marbles.

Kyle had become really good at marbles in the time that he has been there. While not necessarily interested in it from the get go, it did offer parents a way of keeping their children inside of the complex and away from the gang activity just outside on the streets.

From the ledge, Kyle spots a small group of older kids hanging out in the the pool, hunched over the marbles circle, throwing down their bets for the upcoming match.

“CHRISSSSSS!” Kyle yells as he spots his brother amongst the group.

An inaudible but very visible “Fuck” comes out of Chris’s mouth as he stands up and looks up to the walkway where Kyle is standing jumping up and down, waving his arms like a goddamn idiot.

“I’m coming down.” Kyle raced down the stairs barefooted, over the grass and onto the swimming pool  jumping on his brothers back. “I defeated monsters and zombies and demons and Satan but I rescued you!”

All of the older kids in the circle around Chris started laughing. He shrugged Kyle off of his back, “Alright, you found me. Good job.” Chris says sarcastically. “But were just about to start the next game and I have five bones bet on this one, so please wait over there.” Chris gestured towards the outside of the pool.

“Nope,” Said Kyle, brightly looking up at his brother, “you need my help, I’m the best there is.” Kyle beamed with a chance to help coach Chris through this match.

“Okay you can watch,” Chris responded, “but please don’t get in the way.”

“Ill stand right here,” pointing at his feet, just outside finger dug ring of the marbles pit. “Ill be a tree!” Kyle raised his arms in the air, mimicking branches.

“Fine whatever, just shut up.”

Chris was playing against an older kid, Mexican, maybe eleven or twelve, towering over both of them.

“Drop your rocks” the older kid threatened, “I aint got all day.”

“Aint isn’t a word you dumb-dumb.” Kyle quipped.

“Was I talking to you? Chris, get this punk ass to shut up.”

“Sorry Manny,” Chris glared at Kyle. “He won’t be a problem.” Kyle motioned his pinched fingers across his lips, twisted at the end then threw away the imaginary key.

Both Chris and Manny dropped their bags of marbles into the circle, spreading them out by chance of them knocking around each other. The point of the game was to knock the other players marbles out of the ring using your two “boulders” which were slightly larger marbles. The winning player is the one left standing. Very simple to learn and very simple to loose. Kyle considered himself a champion because he had won three matches in a row this month, completely oblivious to his previous record of three wins to fifty-six losses.

“Chris got a pretty spread”, Kyle thought to himself. “All of his are pretty evenly spread out while Manny’s are grouped in clusters towards the edge of the ring.

Chris was up first, on his hands and knees he flicked his first boulder towards the ribbon filled marbles designating the opponent, ahead of him at the edge of the circle, knocking three out.

“OK, just fifteen left to go!” Kyle exclaimed. Chris glared at him once again.

He picked up his boulder and moved to his right, aiming at another small cluster of Manny’s marbles he shot, missing wide right and out of the circle.

“I wouldn’t have done that.” Kyle quipped.

“Well too bad no one want’s to play with you then.” Chris responded.

Manny was up. He got down, aiming at chris’s marbles he shot. Bouncing around, it knocked five of Chris’s stones out of the circle.

“How in the hell?” Said Chris.

“It’s because you missed” said Kyle.

Manny shot again, knocking out two more marbles. Again, chris was held in disbeliefe, he had eleven remaining and things werent looking good.

“Did I tell you I beat up the devil?” Said Kyle as he raised his fists. “He was in the bathroom and I needed to” he cuffed his hand around his mouth and whispered, “you-know-what.”

Manny knocked out three more. Eight to go.

“You didn’t beat up the devil.” Chris turned to Kyle, “I just closed the bathroom door because I knew you woudn’t go in there to clean your pissy sheets, or at least it would take you longer.”

Manny missed, it was Chris’s turn. He got down and shot, knocking out two of Manny’s marbles.

“But why would you do that?” Kyle cried.

Chris bent over and shot his next boulder. “Because you are a pest, Kyle.” His shot misses wide left. Chris stood up. “I never wanted a younger brother and I definitely didn’t want Mom and Dad to divorce because of it.”

Manny, noticing that everyone was looking at Chris and Kyle argue, swiped seven marbles out of the circle. “Match point” he exclaimed. Everyone turned back to watch as Manny shot, knocking Chris’s final marble out of the ring.

Chris collapsed down in disbelief. “God dammit, I needed that for dinner tonight.”

“Then why did you play?” Kyle snapped, “If we needed it then you just hurt everyone.”

“You talk about hurt? Kyle, you are the reason Dad left. Everything was great before you came along.” Chris raised his voice louder. “You know we used to own a house right?”

“Why does that matter?”

“Because it meant that we didn’t have to live in a shitty apartment, I didn’t have to walk through gang territory just to catch the bus for school. We didn’t have to live such a horrible life.” Chris kept walking towards Kyle, approaching the outside edge of the pool. “Everything was better before you came along.”

“But I didn’t do anything.” Kyle looked back, noticing that the six foot drop off of the edge of the pool was approaching.

“You did everything!” Chris shoved Kyle, sending him back. Kyle stumbled, then tripped over a rock, spinning around trying to catch his balance, falling forwards over the edge.

Kyle flew through the air, spinning head first to the concrete. Momentarily, he caught a shared glance with Chris. Time slowed to a halt. What was fear, the assumption of impending pain and possibly death, slipped away. And was replaced with bliss. Kyle didn’t think that he actually caused his parents divorce, and if he did, it wasn’t his fault. This comforted him, he was good kid and he knows it.

Staring at Chris, whose gaze wrinkled from the strain of anger, turning to the same fear Kyle felt before, he smiled. Still spinning, but slowly in the stalled time flow he was now in, Kyle stared out. First at the group of kids, dressed just as poorly from hand-me downs and thrift store conquests, they were in the same place as he and his brother were. Squalor and shame. Kyle realized that people in their condition were doing the best they could, whose pride had afforded them to live beneath the means that most of America were accustomed to. But they embraced it, and supported each other. A sense of community is what made them strong, but it is what also kept them in their place, running in molasses towards an inexorable goal of fostering children who would hopefully not make the same mistakes they did. Ultimately the cycle would return.

Kyle noticed them laughing, but what else could they do. The airing of dirty laundry in public ultimately leads passersby to guilt and an aversion of the eyes. But kids, they recognized it for what it is: comedy gold. Time slowly started to speed up. Kyle saw their looks of laughter turn to serious concern. His moment of bliss was quickly fading, and the concrete is readily approaching.

His head hit first with a loud crack. The rest of his body collapsed down over it, arms and legs sprawling uncontrollably like the first steps of a newborn baby colt. The rest of his weight followed, leaving him unconscious on the ground, face first.

Chris jumped down and poked at his side, “Hey Kyle, are you okay.” There was no response. So he tried again, holding back the tears in his eyes, “Kyle, get up, Mom’s home!” Still there was no response.

Blood started gushing from the right side of Kyles head. The other kids jumped down, Manny with his winnings in hand. “I don’t think he’s going to be okay, man.” Said Manny.

“Dude, I fucking know.” Chris yelled at Manny, “Nobody touch him, I’m going to go call 911.” Chris ran upstairs to the apartment but couldn’t get inside. Apparently Kyle, in his hurry to find Chris, accidentally locked the door. Chris ran to neighbors knocking on the door, yellling for help. The complex Super came out the manager’s office on the first floor, with his cordless phone.

“I got em on the line.” He yelled to Chris, “They want to talk to you.”

Chris ran back down the stairs and grabbed the phone.

911: “911 dispatching, your brother is hurt?”

Chris: “Yes it’s my younger brother Kyle, he fell off of the ledge of the pool and hit his

head. Theres so much blood.”

911: “Is he responding sir.”

Chris: “No”

911: “Is he breathing?

Chris: “A little, I just checked him and blood is starting to go into his nose and mouth. What should I do, did you send an ambulance?

911: “We have sent units to your location. It is important you do not move him as he might have spinal damage.”

Chris: “Spinal damage isn’t going to matter if he drowns in the blood.”

911: “Sir, you need to remain calm.”

Chris: “Fuck that, you guys never get here in time.”

Chris threw the phone to the Super, “Here, you talk to them.” He was right to worry, emergency services took on average thirty minutes to arrive in their neighborhood. As part of his fifth grade class, Chris had learned the basics of CPR. He rushed over  to the side of Kyle’s lifeless body and flipped him to his back..

On his knees, Chris looked up to the circle of concerned adults and kids, “Alright, it’s to Stayin’ Alive.” With his hands crossed, palms down, he placed them on Kyle’s chest over his heart. “Ha,” he pushed down. “Ha,” he pushed again. “Ha,” he pushed a third time. “Ha,” he pushed one last time. “Stayin alive!”

There was no response.

Chris put his finger under Kyles nose. He wasn’t breathing anymore. He slapped Kyle a couple of times in the face, “Come on buddy, we can get through this. I didn’t mean any of that.” Chris pinched Kyles nose and started to breath into his mouth. Kyles chest began to swell then went down again. “Your not the reason mom and dad got divorced. Come on, come back.” Chris check his breathing again, still nothing.

“Shit!” Chris repeated the chest compressions. HE pushed up and down on his chest, “Ha, ha, ha, ha Stayin’ Alive, Stayin Alive.” He went back up to his face and tried to breath air into his lungs. He moved at such a frantic pace that blood soaked his hands and face. He moved back down to the chest.

“Ha, ha, ha, ha Stayin’ Alive, Stayin Alive.”  everybody joined in, hoping to will Kyle through this.

There still was no response. The sound of sirens could be heard off in the distance. Chris went back up to the face and blew again into his mouth. The sirens we just outside of the apartment complex, their lights casting alternating blue and red, illuminating Kyles face.

As Chris frantically tried to save Kyle, the pool of blood started to grow black, absorbing all light around it. “What the hell is this?” He noticed. It became dark out, even the lights of the ambulance and cops cars couldn’t seem to escape it’s suction. Chris stopped his compressions.

The black started to glow from white dots, growing brighter and brighter till they seemed to pop and went back down to a pinhole size. Fantastic colors pulsed in a chaotic pattern until they seemed to settle on blue and gold, fading into the black blood.

“I know what this is,” said Chris. “It’s a nebula... but how?”

Kyle’s body began to float up, separating itself from the nebulous blood encircling him. The paramedics stopped and looked up, he was just out of their reach. Everyone stared in disbelief as he slowed his ascension.

He began to glow with an intensity rivaling the sun. “Boom.” the light shot out of him in every direction and he disappeared. The light returned all around and the blood quickly dried up. Everyone looked about themselves, questioning what they had just saw, but Chris knew exactly what happened. He had killed his little brother. 


KDvtM: Chapter 2 I'm Picking Up Good Vibrations. by Kyle Darnell

Continuing along with NaNoWriMo and my desire for harsh criticism on unfinished works, here is the next installment.  Also, tab doesn't indent on these posts, deal with it.


Chapter 2: I’m picking up Good Vibrations

The light of the mid-afternoon sun shines through the Power Rangers curtains casting a multi-colored, but predominantly blue glow in Kyles room. Reaching up to the top of the bunk beds, Kyle wakes up from his nap wet and cold. He doesn’t like to take naps, so this was an exception to the rule that would prove rather disastrous. Climbing down the ladder to the floor he walks over to the clock which brightly shines 15:30, a remnant of when his mom was a field medic in the army. Kyle had overslept and didn’t get to say goodbye to his mom for the day which meant that Chris was currently in charge.

He looked around the room, dead silence has gripped his nerves. No one was home, Kyle did not like to be at home alone. Searching through the unkempt, laundry covered floor. Kyle picks up his favorite white tank top, stained with ketchup and bearing a large red circle with an armor clad samurai riding a auburn horse. Before putting it on, Kyle notices the shadows creeping from the piles of clothes around him. First taking the shape of ferocious monsters, then rounding out into what they were, which was like the rest of the room, dirty clothes.

Kyle quickly darted out of the room, quickly putting on his shirt in the process, entering the living room. A quick scan and listen confirmed his suspicions, he was indeed alone. “DNKK!!,” a loud thud can be heard from upstairs. This frightens Kyle as he drops to the ground. Living in an apartment, Kyle shouldve been used to these sort of happenings, but Chris told him that those were monsters coming down to eat him when no one else was around. Kyle learned to fear these outbursts as if they were the right hand of God coming to claim him.

Remaining on the floor, Kyle begins to army crawl towards the window facing the inner court of the apartment complex. He is slightly snagged on the rug as he makes a quick roll to his right to finish the trip. Safe for now, Kyle peeks up over the ledge of the window and into the common area below.  

Just past the outside of his window, the sidewalk on his floor obscures his view of the entire court. Fearing that the thud would return, he glances from one end to the other looking for his brother, he only sees the whitish gray of cement, bleached by the sun, staring right back at him. He would need to stand to get a better view, which would also bring him closer to the thud. Kyle, shaking, jumps to a standing position while screaming “Come and get me you emmefer! I know Karate.” and he starts slashing his arms in a chopping motion all around. He opens his eyes, he wasn’t being attacked nor was there piles of defeated zombies all around him, the threat of the thud was gone for now.

Without anxiety, Kyle could now calmly walk over to the door. As he started around the brown recliner that Chris liked to sit in, he noticed a note. After picking it up he realized that it was addressed to himself from his brother:


If I’m not here then that means something awful happened to me. I won’t be able to help you clean your pissy sheets, make sure to wash them in the bathtub before rounding up a posse to come and avenge my death. Mom will be home at 19:00 then will have to leave again, find me before then, or else I might never come back.

Yours in Christ,


The note softly fell to the ground. Kyle realized he would have to rescue Chris, but fearing what might happen if he doesn’t follow the instructions on the note exactly, what they might do to Chris, would be on his hands. So swallowing his fear, he runs to the door of his room, swinging it open wildly, he now stands in the middle of that same blue glow from earlier, illuminating each pile of clothes into a new monster. He must tread lightly now, as he creeps with big steps over each pile towards his bed. Hurried, he rips the sheets off of the bed, flinging the pillows to the ground and darts back towards the open door, with the urine soaked sheets draped around him for extra protection against the foul creepies in the room.

In a yellow flash, he was back out in the living room next to the note on the floor. He leans over and picks up up, checking his itinerary. “First, get the sheets,” he says aloud, “then wash them in the bathtub.” Kyle looked up from the note, down the short hallway towards the door from the bathroom, it was closed. Kyle knew that the door to the bathroom was only closed if someone was in there, then he thought to himself that if Chris has been kidnapped, then who could be using it? Still wrapped in his dingy sheets, he creeps towards the door. One foot in front of the other, getting closer, fear gripping him, that the thud could return at any moment and take him too. Almost there, shuffling the last few feet past the paintings of owls in the hallway, just before the turn for the kitchen, he stopped, now at the door to the bathroom.

Completely wrapped now, peering through the thin sheet, he places his hand on the door knob. Visions of what could be inside flashed through his head. From zombies to even the devil himself could be awaiting him. Like a lump of half chewed broccoli in his throat, the fear welled up. “I need to arm myself.” he said loudly, thinking that whatever is in there might hear him and run away. Nothing made a sound from the inside, he knew that the zombie devil was waiting, to do to him what he assuredly did to his brother. Kyle went a few steps back into the kitchen while not taking his eyes off of the door. He reached blindly into the sink to grab a weapon. After reaching around, he grabbed the handle of a wooden spoon. Knowing it’s power by what it has, on occasion, done to his backside, he reassured himself that it could defeat anything.

With a better plan in mind, he takes off the bed sheet, and grips it in his left hand. Inching closer to the door, he raises up the wooden spoon in his right and declares, “Alright Zombie Satan, I’m coming in, if you don’t want your butt smacked then you better leave right now!”

There was no reply

Kyle grabbed the knob, swallowed the lump in his throat and swung the door open violently. He threw the sheet into the bathroom and started swinging the wooden spoon in the air. In a fit of rage he jumped in, still swinging, opened his eyes up long enough to see that there was nothing there. Kyle let out a cry of victory, but reaching down to the floor to pick up the sheet, realized that the devil would be back, and he must complete his mission.

Kyle double checked his surroundings. The small bathroom could not afford a proper hiding place for the monsters he feared. It was what was always in the bathroom. A plastic sink on top of fake wooden drawers. “No devil in there”. He pulled the shower curtains out of the bathtub across from the sink. “No devil in there”. Then he peered around the corner of the tub, nestled away behind a small wall dividing the bathroom was the toilet, seat up. He wiped his brow, there was no sweat inching down his face but had seen it in movies enough to know thats what you do when you find relief from a stressful situation and once again said, “No devil in there.”

He started the faucet in the bathtub to begin washing his sheets. After plugging up the drain he grabbed the laundry detergent from under the sink and poured a little in the running water. The water turned blue then foamy bubbles started rising up. He turned off the water and threw in the sheet, swirling it around. He didn’t really know how to wash it, normally someone was there to help him. So he did what he thought was best, which was to let it soak and start formulating a plan on how to rescue Chris.

Kyle sat on the edge of the tub with his left hand moving the bed sheet softly in the water, he realized that he was lucky this time, and that if the devil actually did take his brother, like he had feared, he would be no match for him. He would need people to help him, like some of the second graders he play’s marbles with out in the apartment courtyard. He says to himself, “Yeah, if I get Sherman and Diontre and we arm ourselves, we can beat the devil straight back into Hell!”

Figuring that the bed sheet was washed, he unplugged the drain, turned on the faucet and rinsed it out. Ringing it into a ball several times to get all of the soap out. Holding the bed sheet, he stands on the edge of the tub, and threw it over the shower curtain rod to dry and stepped down from the tub. Proud of his accomplishment, Kyle walked out of the bathroom and into the kitchen to grab a handful of Cherrios from the box on the counter next to the sink. He shoved all of them in his mouth, he knows that he will need energy for the long voyage to save his brother.

Out of the kitchen in the hallway Kyle, still chewing the cereal, makes his way for the note on the floor next to the recliner. Bending down to pick it up Kyle swallows the rest of the Cherrios and checks his list again. “Alright, I scared away the devil and washed my sheets.” he said, glancing at the note. “Now to rescue Chris so Mom doesn’t get mad.”


Kyle Darnell vs. The Multiverse by Kyle Darnell

This year I am participating in the National Novel Writing month to spur on my next series of artwork. It is called Kyle Darnell vs. The Multiverse and in a way it is the sequel to the series "Godself". I plan on making a print for each chapter. It is about Kyle Darnell and his true* adventures.  

 *Mostly true. Some events, names, and places have been changed to protect parties involved.

As an act of accountability for this, I will be posting the raw, unedited chapters one (or so) a day. I'll be posting them to facebook as a further reminder to keep writing. Come back tomorrow for chapter two. Also, things are uncomfortable personal. Not for me, but maybe for you.

If it sucks, don't read it. 

Enough jibber jabbering. 

Chapter 1: Ready, Willing, (Cain) and Abel

     Kyle Darnell sits on the floor of the living room in his mom’s apartment in San Diego. The warm afternoon sun breaks through the open but barred windows illuminating Kyle, who is crouched over, slamming his toys together. After his brother Chris and himself get back from church, Kyle likes to play Action Time NOW! Something he saw on TV that uses action figures to act out scenes. He would normally run through the house screaming “HULK SMASH!” or, “This is what you get for betraying God, Eve!” It is normally whatever runs through his mind, and he acts it out with his toys. Today is no different. He had recently been into space toys since he found out that there is more outside of San Diego.

     The sermon at church today was about the story of Cain and Abel. His action figures, of space monsters and GI Joes bounce along the floor. Abel is being played by his favorite toy, Space Marine Ziegler. He got it a week before for his 5th birthday, it was the first he had received that came new out of a package. Normally his mom would just pick up random toys from Agape Ministries Thrift Store. They had been used and very worn down. So he pleaded his mom that he get a new one that he could pick out. Scrapping her money together, she granted his plea. Kyle was bouncing around with glee as he got to go through the store and pick the one that caught his eye.  This one stood out from the rest. About 6 inches tall of blue and gold with a dazzling scene of a slick helmeted figure shooting over a rock at bright green aliens. Explosions illuminated everything around the toy on the stiff casing, as if announcing itself to be picked out by Kyle, as if it was his destiny. Of course it wasn’t destiny, its just a toy. A way to preoccupy Kyle while his mom works one of her three jobs. But Kyle doesn’t know that. All he knows is that this toy is the one.

     He immediately became inseparable from Space Marine Ziegler. It had 18 points of articulation and came with an assortment of different laser pistols to fight off whatever Kyle saw fit. Which was normally a brightly colored, two headed monster/man hybrid called Zach. As if two bodies were slammed together at the torso with the right side a deep maroon lizard skin covered earless man, and the left was a blue toothless monster. The two heads on the torso could spin so Kyle normally had them talk to each other in how to defeat Ziegler. Their legs were worn down from years of use that the fake blue pants started to wear away from the plastic moulding. A cast off from the thrift store that his older brother Chris used to play with when he was a kid. Kyle doesn’t remember Chris ever playing with it. He was six years older than Kyle and significantly more mature. Already working several jobs around the neighborhood, Chris cast off the warm blanket of childhood to embrace a role in the family that could help support them financially. He is only eleven years old, but he seemed more like an adult than Kyle’s brother.

     “God, I sacrifice these foods to you.” said Kyle, sitting on the mock oriental living room rug in front of the TV. Kyle wore his hair cropped short, so his mom could more easily cut his thin blonde hair with the clippers. The only act of personality or flair came from the longish tuft of hair protruding from the top of the back of his neck. It was long enough to be braided, but it rarely was, as Chris threatened to cut it off while Kyle slept.

     “No Cain, God doesn’t want your stinky vegetables.” Kyle said has he thrust Ziegler in his right had at Zach in his left and knocked him down. Spilling the invisible vegetables off of the miniature table to the ground. “God wants lamb! He not a rabbit.” Kyle pantomimed Ziegler picking up his Lamb Chop stuffed toy, three times the size of Ziegler, and placed it on the table.

     “But thats not fair.” Said Kyle as Cain/Zach, “This is what I have and it should be good enough.” Kyle held Cain with his left hand and moved in to punch Abel/Ziegler. Kyle turned Abel out of the way at the last second, striking Cain in the stomach. With Cain bent over, Kyle thrust one of his heads between Abel’s legs and lifted him up in a half somersault, so Cain rested momentarily on Abel’s shoulders.

    “TOP ROPE POWERBOMB!” Kyle said as he lifted them both up off of the TV hutch and threw them down, through the altar with Lamb Chop. Abel stood over the battered body of Cain and said “When you come at the King, you better not miss!” Kyle took Abel and bounced him away in short hops with his back turned to to Cain.

    “GD Kyle, thats not what happened.” Said Chris, who was sitting in the recliner, at the edge of the rug. “Did you even pay attention in church?” Chris said in a very frustrated tone.

     “I know what happens,” Kyle turned towards him, looking up at the husky freckled man-child sitting in the chair. “but thats boring. The good guys don’t win that way.”

     Chris got up out of the chair and approached Kyle on the floor, towering over him,“Here, let me play.” Kyle thought this strange, Chris never wanted to play “Action League NOW!” with him. But anticipating some brotherly interaction, Kyle scooted over and patted his left hand on the ground next to him. Chris sat down, taking Cain in his hands.

     “Give me Zach, I’ll be Cain and you be Abel.” Chris said to Kyle, his girth obscuring the light coming in from the window. Kyle nodded in agreement and cleared Lamb Chop off of the altar. “ This is how it is done.” Chris set the table with the invisible vegetables and raised Cain’s arms into the air, “God, accept the sacrifices that I give to you!” Chris bounced Cain in a circle around the altar.

     “My turn.” said Kyle as he used Abel to place Lamb Chop on the altar. “God accept the snackrifices I give to you!” and then Kyle took the table with Lamb Chop and lifted it up in the air. As this was happening, Chris took Cain and slammed him towards Abel. Kyle noticed this and had Abel dodge at the last second, dropping Lamb Chop in the process.

     “Hey,” said Kyle angrily, “thats not what happens.”

     “Yes it does, I swear you are retarded or something.” Chris said to Kyle, grabbing Ziegler out Kyle’s hands, “Thats why you go to special class.”

     “My special class if for gifted kids, duh.” Kyle sniped back at Chris, “You just call it special because you were too dumb to get into it when you were my age.”

     This enraged Chris, he did harbour some resentment towards Kyle for not being placed in a class of intelligent youngsters. Instead having to spend his elementary school years dealing with gang members with less than enthusiastic teachers.

     “No I’m not, this is just what happens.” Chris took Cain and Abel and started slamming them together.

     “You’re playing too rough, stop it.” pleaded Kyle as he stood up.

     As Kyle said this, Chris took Ziegler, as Abel, and snapped him in half through the waist. Kyles mouth held agasp, with the whites of his eyes almost overwhelming the pupils he shouted “Why you do this!”

     Chris threw both halves on the ground at Kyle’s feet. “This is what happens, Cain kills Abel and is then thrust out of the family, forced to roam the lands.” Chris took Zach as Cain and threw him out the window into the street two stories below.

     Kyle ran to the window to see where it went, at that moment a garbage truck ran over the toy, crushing it into pieces. Kyle was breathing heavily, trying to hold back the tears. “But you didn’t have to actually do it. It’s a story, it’s not real.”

     “It’s not just a story,” said Chris, now standing next to Kyle. “Most of the time, the bad guys win. Now get out of the way, I have work in an hour and you are blocking Family Matters.”

     Kyle ran crying to his room, broken toy in hand and locked the door.


New Work: Passion Blanket by Kyle Darnell

I just finished up a new blanket. Here is a picture and some detail shots. It is a summation of the portion of the GODSELF series titled "Passion", which is the ending chapter of how our hero Kyle Darnell confronts his imperfections and attains nirvana. This Blanket is the penultimate work of my GODSELF series, with a small, zine style book to follow. Enjoy. And if you want to purchase one, contact me and we can work something out. 

"The Passion of the Blanket" 

Digital on Fleece and metal rings


Keep an eye out for future posts about my new work called "Kyle Darnell vs. The Multiverse" I am currently mapping out a novel about it and working on principle designs for prints. I will be doing the novel during NaNoWrMo. So everything is just set up until then. And remember, as a man without a press, buying a blanket is a great way for me to afford studio time.