Autistic Point of View – Zane’s First Ebook

Hey everybody, long time no see! Lately, I’ve been working on something huge: my first eBook. I published it a few days ago, and wanted to let everyone here know about it! The eBook is called “Random Sunday Stories” and includes 3 short stories that I wrote. It falls under the genre of fantasy, and is posted through an agregator called “SmashWords.” I worked quite hard on this, and it contains a revised edition of 2 of the short stories I posted on here, and 1 brand new one!

If you are interested, here is a link to check out my eBook, and I’d really appreciate if you would check it out!

Here’s the link:

For my viewers, here is a coupon code for getting the book for just $0.99! : EY37U is the code!

And, for the first person to get this coupon, the book is free! Here’s the code: GF52N

Hope you guys enjoy and thanks for the support!



The Blessings of Anaros Part 4

Here it is guys, the final chapter. Enjoy the conclusion of “The Blessings of Anaros!”


The Blessings of Anaros Part 4


Anaros shouldered his pack, and began to head out of the village where he had spent the last 3 months. The villagers didn’t leave their homes, but Anaros began to speak to the villagers anyway. He crushed a Blessing of Speech, and began to address the villagers in their homes.

“Though I hate to leave this village, I feel that I am no longer needed, and my quest pulls me onward. I now leave you in the capable hands of the New Empire’s armies, who may now do as they please since I will be gone. But know this, I will come back, and when I do, the New Empire will be gone, and in its place shall be me, Anaros Atarix, descendant of Falthor Atarix! I now bid you goodbye, and may the gods be with you.” Anaros boomed. As the Blessing of Speech wore off, he turned and left the village. He was finally on the Road to complete his quest, and kill the Emperor.


Anaros arrived at the city of Felicise within hours of leaving the village, thanks to his Blessing of Speed. As he approached the massive gates of the city, the guards approached him.

“Papers?” Questioned one of the guards.

“I require no papers, let me through,” Anaros said. The guard warily put one hand on his sheathed sword, and asked Anaros again. Anaros reached into his pouch, and grabbed a Blessing of Strength. He crushed it in his hand, and took an offensive stance, charging the guard head on. Before the guard had the chance to draw his sword, Anaros delivered a bone-shattering punch to his nose, his hand plunging wrist deep into the guard’s face. The guard flew back nearly 100 feet, crashing into the iron gates of the city. Anaros noticed two other guards charging him, and ducked quickly out of the way of the first guards swinging sword. He charged the second guard, and jumped what looked like 15 feet into the air, landing on the guard’s chest, and crushing his ribs with the force of the blow. He used the excess force to catapult himself into the other guard, whipping his foot around and delivering a powerful kick to the guard’s stomach, forcing his body into the iron gate. With a creak, the iron gate opened, and Anaros entered the City.


The Emperor’s palace wasn’t hard to find, it stood towering above all of the other buildings in Felicise, its spires covered in sheets of gold, and its gates glittering in the harsh midday sunlight. With one powerful kick, Anaros smashed down the front gate, and fell to the ground with a massive crash. He strode into the castle swiftly, and the guards swarmed around him, encircling him and brandishing weapons. Anaros reached into his pouch, and pulled out a Blessing that none of the guards recognised. This was the source of Anaros’s uniqueness, his ability to create brand new types of Blessings. He crushed the Blessing, and sprinkled it around him in a circle, creating a ring around him. Just as he finished sprinkling the powder, the ground began to glow, and something began to come out of the ground.

“Whoever said I was a one man army?” Anaros said, his question clearly rhetorical.

The ground around him began to shake, and several men appeared in a circle around Anaros. They all held pouches similar to his, and began to attack the guards. In the blink of an eye, all of the guards were dead, and Anaros’s men assembled behind him, marching into the throne room.


Anaros burst into the throne room, quickly followed by the other Touched. Anaros was instantly in awe of the beautiful intricacies of the throne room. Its architectural schemes radiated beauty in countless different ways. The walls had been ingrained with deep sheets of gold, glittering diamonds poking out from them, and catching the eye of any who passed. Deep cuts were placed in each of the gold sheets, each of which depicted the Emperor’s glorious battles and triumphs.

“Who dares enter the throne room of Ikthor, Emperor of Narian?” The Emperor boomed, his voice echoing through the halls of the throne room.

“I am Anaros Atarix, descendant of Falthor Atarix.” Anaros replied, his voice steady.

“What is your purpose in disrupting me, foolish boy!” The Emperor yelled, his voice filled with rage.

“I am here to kill you.” Anaros said simply, charging toward the Emperor.

Anaros flew toward the Emperor, his feet carrying him with incredible speed, the likes of which very few people had ever witnessed. He reached into his pouch, and pulled out another new Blessing, this one in the shape of an amorphous blob. It was deep red, and contrasted with the other Blessing that he had, all of which were blindingly white. He jumped through the air, and landed on the Emperor’s throne platform.

“Let this battle begin.” The Emperor said, pulling out a pouch of his own.

Emperor Ikthor crushed three Blessings in his hand, and charged at Anaros with blinding speed. Before Anaros could dodge, Ikthor slammed his fist into his leg, and a sickening snap rang through the halls. Anaros screamed in pain and fell to the ground in a heap. Ikthor then slammed his fist into Anaros’s face, shattering his nose. Anaros slumped to the ground, his vision becoming blurry.

“Over that soon?” Ikthor asked, laughing heartily. “I thought you would put up more of a fight!”

“The point wasn’t to fight you, Emperor, it was to distract you.” Anaros said weakly, a smile on his face.

Ikthor looked around, and saw an assembly of Touched surrounding him, all holding a single red Blessing. They threw the Blessing onto the ground, and held out their hands toward Ikthor. Anaros raised his Blessing as high as he could, and brought it crashing down onto Ikthor’s stomach.

“See you in hell, Ikthor.” Anaros rasped.

Ikthor bellowed in fury as he was whipped into the air, and pulled into a massive spinning vortex that opened in his stomach. Ikthor collapsed into himself, and was sucked into the portal. Anaros was lifted into the air, and began to be pulled into the portal. He looked out on his brethren, and uttered his last words.

“Every hero must make sacrifices to do what he knows is right. Now go forth, and show the world what it means to be free.”

With this, Anaros was pulled into the portal, his bag of Blessings falling to the floor.


Wow, this took a while to write! Hope you guys enjoyed this short story, and let me know if you have any ideas for a short story you would like to see in the future. Until next time!


The Blessings of Anaros Part 2

Hey everybody, time for part 2! Make sure you check out Part 1 so this makes more sense. Once I get a bit more into writing the story, I’ll post a link to the view the story in its entirety. Enjoy!


The Blessings of Anaros Part 2


Anaros sat on his bed, sculpting a Blessing of Strength. The blessing took the form of an arm, and was expertly sculpted with the precision of a master. He was holding the Blessing of Speech he had just crafted to his lips, and the Blessing was glowing. While he charged the Blessing, he would have no ability to speak, but when fully charged, his voice would return. Anaros thought back to his first experiences with Blessings, a wisp of a smile flashing across his face. Tired from the long day, he lay down once more, drifting off to sleep.


Anaros walked out onto the patio, a bottle of his finest ale in his hand, and his pouch in the other. Anaros had barely sat down in his chair, when he felt a massive weight pushing down on his chest. He struggled to move, but without a Blessing of Strength, he was unable to move. He watched as a figure emerged on the horizon, floating on the air as he approached Anaros. Realizing who was approaching him, Anaros growled with a primal, guttural anger. His head burned with fury, and he forced himself to stand, his body screaming in pain as the weight crushed him downward, forcing him into the ground. With considerable effort, Anaros reached into his pouch, and pulled out three Blessings. He crushed 2 of them, but, strangely enough, he swallowed the third, a small pill-like Blessing. The Blessing of Emotion fueled the fury within him, flooding his body with adrenaline, further fueling the power of the Blessing of Strength. The final Blessing, the Blessing of Awareness, enhanced his ability to think clearly, pushing his mind so far that he had given himself the powers of telekinesis. Using his enhanced abilities, Anaros materialized a small shiv, concealing it underneath his cloak.

“Please Anaros, allow me to help,” said the man, revealing two shimmering swords from under his cloak. “Take this sword, and we can have a fair battle.”

“I told you to never show your face here again, Falthor. You have made a grave mistake coming here, and I will not forgive you for what you have done to these people.” Anaros growled, fury apparent in his voice. Anaros picked up the sword, and charged Falthor, screaming with a primal fury unmatched by anything Falthor had ever seen. He whipped the blade around, bringing a crushing blow down on Falthor’s head. Falthor brought up his blade, parrying the blow with some effort, then jabbed at Anaros’s exposed chest, hoping to catch him off guard. Without even thinking, Anaros feinted to the side, slashing at Falthor, catching his sleeve, and cutting a gash in the man’s arm. Falthor screamed in pain, but continued his barrage. He swung with a mighty fury, keeping Anaros on the defensive. Just as Falthor swung his blade in a perfect arc that should have taken of Anaros’s legs, Anaros jumped, producing his small shiv, and plunging it into Falthor’s back.

“I told you to never show your face here again, Falthor, once you set foot in this village, you had sealed your fate. See you in hell.” Anaros said, a sick smile spreading across his face. He lifted his blade, and plunged it through Falthor’s chest. Falthor spit up blood, and his breathing slowed, then stopped. After so many battles, Falthor was finally dead.


I’ll try to post Part 3 later today, but tomorrow at the latest! Stay tuned!


The Blessings of Anaros Part 1

As I said the other day, I absolutely love creative writing, so I decided that I’m going to put out a daily piece of creative writing, each one continuing on the last. If you enjoy this, let me know, and I’ll keep doing it! I hope you enjoy Part 1 of “The Blessing of Anaros”

The Blessing Of Anaros Part 1

The man was once a youthful, pride filled, boy, full of vigor and passion. He stood with a straight spine, and commanded an air of importance wherever he went. Very few people had his potential, but no one knew how far he would take things. The New Empire always found people like him, but no one knew why they took them, nor did anyone care to find out. They were too busy trying to provide for their families, trying to stay alive in a ruthless era of boundless starvation. Anaros was somewhat of an…exception.

The man was a beacon of hope for the people of the New Empire. They looked up to him, but no one knew his name. In any other situation, this may have been strange, but not in the grand city of Felicise. In Felicise, it was every man for himself. A few of the people of Felicise knew him, but none of them would speak to him, out of fear of death. The punishment for speaking to someone who had been Touched was horrible, burning at the stake. The New Empire seemed to have a fear of the Touched that went so far that it almost seemed like a reverence. Anaros was one of the Touched, and he displayed it proudly, flaunting it without even knowing he was doing so.

“Anaros,” the voice whispered. “Anaros, wake up! They’re here for us! You have to help us!”

Anaros slowly sat up, and mumbled something unintelligible. He seemed groggy for a moment, only to be wide awake a moment later. The source of the voice was an elderly man, his eyes welling up with tears. Anaros stood up, and grabbed a pouch off the nightstand, hurrying downstairs to see what all of the commotion was about. Men on horses were approaching the house, weapons gleaming in the moonlight. Anaros stepped casually outside, and fished around for something in his pouch. He pulled out a small object in the shape of an eye, and crushed it in his hand, the powder twinkling in the light of the enemies torches. He then reached back in, and pulled out a small object resembling a mouth, and crushed that as well. Anaros opened his mouth to whisper, his voice amplified by the crushed Blessings.

“Stop!” Anaros commanded, his voice so loud that it knocked men from their saddles. “You will come no further, lest you incur the wrath of a God!”

Most of the men ceased their advance, but a few brave souls rode onward, unphased by his incredibly powerful voice. With a shout, Anaros sent a supersonic pressure cloud toward the cavalrymen, disintegrating them completely with the sheer force of his voice.

“Dare anyone else come forward? Leave this village be, and I will not follow you, but if you lay a hand on any of these villagers, I will find you, I will make you wish you were never born. Mark my words now, I am a patient man, and I will be in no rush to end your life in a timely manner.”

With that, the men backed away, no one daring to face Anaros. The people of the village cheered, and Anaros returned to his bedroom, starting in on shaping another blessing. He still had a few more Blessings of Speech, but one could never have too many.

Check in tomorrow for the next piece of the story! See you guys later!


Autistic Point Of View – Creative Writing Piece

I really love creative writing, so here’s one of my recent stories.

Noland Rydell was the greatest scientist of all time. He truly wanted to change the world, to make it a better place for his people. Too bad the Madness got to him first. Of course, everyone knew it would happen. Noland was so sure it would never take him, that he was simply too strong willed, but everyone knew. What a shame, too, he may have been able to do something for them. The Madness took everyone who was influential, it was just a fact of life. Once someone ascended to a place of power, it would take about 5 years to take them, but it always did. The symptoms were simple, and looks like just another case of dementia, that is, until stage 5. No one had ever seen a stage 5 sufferer, the Government got to them much before then.


Noland sat slumped in his chair, asleep in his office. This wasn’t the first late night he had spent at work, in fact, he spent almost every night there nowadays. Noland was clearly sleeping fitfully, writhing and moaning, until he awoke with a scream. Luckily for him, no one was ever at work at 3 am in the morning, let alone paying any attention to him. He glanced around, his eyes full of terror, and his heart thumping in his chest. Though he refused to admit it, the Madness was beginning to take him. It started out with nightmares, but it got gradually worse. The demons whispered in his ears, and the ghosts that drifted around wailed in the night like lost children. It was all he could do to simply ignore them, but slowly, the whispers turned to screams. What was once a whisper of hatred became screams of fury, and what was once a drifting ghost became a giant spectre.


That night, the Government came for Noland. He had no idea how they knew he had succumbed to the madness, but they came for him anyway. Before he knew what was going on, he was strapped to an operating table, and the men in suits were administering anesthetic. The men in suits was an understatement, in Noland’s opinion. The men were hulking beasts, ones who wore masks to keep themselves from getting sick, their suits bulging at the seams with their monstrous muscles. Noland tried to protest, but before he could, he drifted into nothingness, adrift in an endless abyss of screams.


Noland stared the beast in the eyes as it picked him up, and opened its massive mouth, ready to consume him whole. The beast started with his head, ripping it off with a sickening crunch. The beast chewed, content with what he tasted, and began to start in on his arms, when Noland realized that he wasn’t dead. The beast had just eaten his head, but he was still alive, somehow. With this, Noland was whipped out of the dream world, and brought back to the cold operating table where the men in suits had pinned him down. The first thing he noticed was the screaming, or rather, the lack of it. The ghosts no longer drifted about, and colors seemed to fill his world. The Madness was gone. One of the “beasts” from earlier looked at him, and Noland was surprised to see kindness in the things eyes, as it helped him up, and led him into a conference room. In the room, a very important looking man sat by himself, sipping a cup of coffee. He turned to Noland, and asked him the last question he thought would come out of the man’s mouth.

“You take cream in your coffee Noland?” The man seemed to be genuinely curious, and Noland gave him a thumbs up, unable to find his voice.

“We thought you were a goner, Noland, we really did. We’ve brought hundreds of men in here, and not one has had the will to fight back against the Madness. You really are a special one, aren’t you Noland?” Said the man, with genuine caring in his voice.

“W-w-w-what is this place?” Noland asked, his voice finally returning to him.

“This is where we fight back Noland. This is Ground Zero for our outbreak, and this is where it ends, assuming you’ll help, that is.” The man said with one eyebrow cocked.

“Allow me to introduce myself, I’m General Robertson. I need your help Noland, but first, I want to tell you a story.” The man began.

“Many years ago, a group of archeologists were excavating a site, when they found something strange: an entrance to a massive cavern. The archeologists went in, and they found what they had so hoped that they would find, a small statuette resembling a beast of epic proportions.” Continued General Robertson. “One archeologist went to pick up the statuette, and loe and behold, he released an ancient evil, which brought itself into our world for the first time in thousands of years. This beast is what you saw when we put you under, and this beast is the source of the Madness. Many men died on that table, and gave in to the beast, too weak to fight back. But you, Noland, were able to fight back, and we need that. The Madness will come back to you, but we need you to fight the beast, and weaken it enough to seal it. Can you help us?”

“I can try, I guess,” said Noland, beginning to feel the Madness creep back in. “When do I start?”

“Right now, Noland, we’re putting you back in.” The General said.

The beasts in suits came back, and threw Noland onto the operating table, strapping him down, and jabbing an anesthetic needle into his arm. Noland tried to struggle, but the anesthetic put him under, his limbs becoming weak. He awoke in a room full of darkness, unable to move. All of a sudden, a bright light filled the room, and the beast appeared before him, reaching out to pick him up again. The beast picked him up by the leg, dangling him upside down.

“So, the fools have tried to tell you their false legend, I assume?” The beast said, his voice a booming force. “Did they tell you of my offer?”

“W-w-w-what offer?” Noland whimpered.

“I can give you whatever you desire, as long as you do as I command. I have been unable to leave this spirit room for many thousands of years. Release me, and I will give you everything you could ever desire. Power beyond your wildest dreams. What you do with it is yours to choose, but do as I command first.” The beast continued. “Let me tell you my tale of woe, young mortal. Many years ago, I ruled this land, and the people who dwell upon it. I was no tyrant, boy, I was a kind king. I spent my days ruling this kingdom, until a foolish mortal warrior stepped forth to oppose me. I accepted his challenge, and our battle began. The gods looked favorably upon this boy, and bestowed unto him the power to seal me in the form of this beast. The mortal who sealed me is none other than your little friend General Robertson. If you help me kill him, I will give you anything you desire. You could be my right hand, hm? The beast said, a smile creeping onto his massive face.

“I don’t have the power to kill him, let alone get near him!” Yelled Noland, his voice quivering with fear.

“Allow me to handle that,” the beast said, touching his forehead. Noland felt himself become imbued with power. He had never felt better in his life.

“Take his life, and you will be rewarded, young mortal.” The beast finished. Just as he was about to ask another question, Noland was whipped back to the real world, aware of the cool metal pressing against his skin. He looked around wildly, and one of the beasts helped him up. Without thinking, Noland brought his elbow into the hulking monsters face, sending it flying with terrifying force. The beast slumped against the wall, its face a disgusting mess. Noland whipped around, and pushed his palm against the other beasts chest, feeling a pulse as he tore away the things soul. He made his way into the room where General Robertson resided, his body surrounded by a purple flame. He kicked down the door, and General Robertson sat bolt upright, terror corrupting his features.

“W-w-w-what are you, you beast!” General Robertson screamed.

“I…am…fury.” Replied Noland, his face contorted into an evil smile. He threw out his hand, and General Robertson was flung toward him like a ragdoll. He put his foot on the man’s head, and began to apply force. The general tried to beg for his life, but it was no use, as Noland’s foot went through his skull with a sickening crunch. Noland smiled, and turned to the massive purple portal appearing before him. The beast lumbered out of it, and grabbed Noland by the shoulders.

“What is my a reward?” Asked Noland, excited beyond measure.

“Your reward for freeing me shall be a quick death.” Said the monster, his face forming into a sick smile. Noland heard the last thing he would ever hear before being ripped away from reality. I AM FREE!

Hope you enjoyed!