Jaime Buckley married young, winning the heart of a beautiful Samoan princess and together, they had 12 amazing children.
The High Elder, still standing in the near center of the room, bowed, keeping his hand
outstretched before him. “Dämä Omä, my brother,” he said softly, “I come with He who was
spoken of. We seek permission to enter.”
Squinting, Wendell couldn’t see anything. What is he doing….and WHO IS HE TALKING
TO?? Even in the glow of the High Elder’s staff, there was no one there!
Trouble was, Wendell could hear someone move.
…or something.
Whatever it was, it lurked in the shadows.
Wendell suddenly felt grateful the old man was in front of him. He resolved to not feel bad if
he had to leave his imaginary host in the dust to be eaten by the unknown to save his own skin.
Another growl.
Blast it! Gotta adjust to this blasted darkness! Closing his eyes, Wendell silently counted to five,
then slowly opened them once more. The light from the staff burned brighter, the shadows
fading somewhat, until he could make out the walls around him. There, now we can…
Then he saw it.
Well, sort of.
A warped shadow, swaying…just inside the tunnel.
For a moment, he wasn’t sure what he was looking at. In fact, Wendell wasn’t even sure he
was looking at anything—but there was a flicker. Focusing on a single spot within the darkness,
Wendell would catch a sudden blur of movement in his peripheral vision, but it would vanish as
soon as he tried to focus on it.
Again, there was a deep rumbling, as if from within the chest of…something huge.
Something close.
“Hold perfectly still,” warned the High Elder intensely, the softer, “Keep your head bowed.”
What is going on?! The self preservation personality whispered inside his head. How stupid
ARE you, Wendell? Run, you idiot. RUN! Leave this old loon behind and RUN AWAY!! But the
weighty apprehension of uncertainty glued Wendell’s shoes to the ground. Maybe I’m safer
behind the elder? If something tries to get me, I can always shove the old guy into my escape
path before I make a run for it. Pause. Not…like I can be guilty of murder in a dream, right?
Something in his gut compelled him to obey the High Elder.
This time.
Moving through the dust in front of them, a chilling scrape across the stone caused Wendell
to raise his eyes…just in time to see a massive paw mark, bigger than the whole of his chest,
press through the grey layer of dust.
…then another.
Only closer.
Wendell suddenly had a desperate need to pee.
The prints stopped directly in front of the High Elder, who then calmly…stepped aside.
Oh, no, you don’t!
Without lifting his head, Wendell slid one foot over and then another until he was behind
the High Elder again.
Wendell felt the rumble from the floor through his feet, causing his legs to quiver.
Surprised, the High Elder hissed, “What are you doing!?”
“It’s my dream,” Wendell hissed back, “and you’re expendable!”
The High Elder shifted once more.
Wendell followed suit—keeping the blue man as a meat shield in front of him.
The low growl seemed a little sharper, almost impatient, this time.
“Stop it!” the High Elder nearly shrieked. “You’ll anger him!”
Wendell shook his head, “Then stop moving!”
In one stunning motion, the High Elder spun, positioning himself directly behind Wendell
and pushing him forward, holding him firmly by the shoulders.
“Hey!…HEY!!” squeaked Wendell, struggling.
“Stay there!” the High Elder warned.
Wendell’s entire body convulsed in spasms as he heard…something coming closer. Why
doesn’t anybody around here LIKE me?
Scccraaaape. Scccraaaape. Scccraaaape. Scccraaaape.
Wendell could see another paw print appear just inches from his own shoes. Though he felt
like whimpering, he bit his own lip and simply trembled.
Like the sound of a dog sniffing an open hand, intermittent bursts of humid air hit Wendell
in the chest—leaving his hair and face feeling damp. Gritting his teeth, he turned his head to the
side, clenching his eyes tight and curling his toes within his shoes.
Please don’t eat me. Please don’t eat me. Please don’t eat me! AhhAHHHahhhh.
As he was being ‘sniffed’ it occurred to him that spending time with Dax might not be too
frightening at this point.
With a mild bump…which nearly knocked Wendell over…the huge prints retreated in the
dust.
Wendell gulped. Is…that it? He opened his eyes, watching the prints appear to the side of the
tunnel, where several small hanging oil lamps, dangling down its center, flickered to life.
See? That wasn’t so bad after all. I knew I could do it.
“Thank you, brother,” the High Elder smiled. “You have honored your covenant. We will keep
our end of the agreement. May peace reign with you until your path ends.”
Erupting in a deafening roar, the Key exploded with dust and cobwebs.
“What’s happening?!?” Wendell screamed, stumbling backwards against the wall.
The High Elder dashed to his side, raising an arm to shield his own face. “Prepare yourself!”
The Idea behind the Hero
I love getting questions, especially fan mail about WANTED:HERO the comic book…particularly
from children.
What seems to stump them (the children) is why write a story about a guy who can’t really do
anything?
Why Wendell P. Dipmier??
There is a great deal more to Wendell than meets the eye.
Not only am I referring to the storyline of the comic book, but in my thoughts and development
of the character. The ideas behind Wendell stem from many instances from my own personal
experiences. Situations Wendell finds himself in shadow similar situations I had to solve as a
youth.
Not that I had talking diamonds impaling themselves into my chest or that I was transported to
distant planets on the far reaches of the known Universe.
As a youth, I was the target of jokes and brutality, as many children are in school.
On the other hand, I was one of those rare few (at the time anyway) that the so-called ‘bullies’ of
the day would practice on ‘just because I was there’. That was what I was told many Friday
afternoons, when the recess guard would walk out of site, when I would walk home and was out
of view of the school, or even when the teacher left to talk with another student.
I was a target.
My personal experiences ranged from being hit and kicked, to being beaten with books, bags,
pipes, sticks, tree branches, bottles, chains, rocks and even the concrete itself (being thrown).
Now that would seem horrible enough, but I was chased and caught at least once a week and I
can count on a single hand how many times I ever faced a solo opponent.
At my age and with an extra 35+ years under my belt, that’s highly unlikely to happen again.
However, my point here is that I have had a great amount of experience with bullies.
I hate them.
I stand up to them.
I oppose them.
Wendell is a reflexion of the development I went through as I grew up and how I dealt with
people who sought to harm others for the sheer pleasure in doing so. Wendell was developed
as I was struggling to overcome specific mental limitations in my own life and in dealing with
violence and violent people.
What people don’t realize when they are faced with the possibility of having to defend
themselves, is that they don’t have to be ‘the very best’ to do it.
In fact, you don’t even have to be GOOD at defending yourself to defend yourself.
You just have to be good enough…and that is something we can all do.
There will always be someone faster, stronger, bigger and more experienced than yourself–but
you can always do something.
Always.
Even when the odds are against you, there is always something for you to do…even if that is
nothing more than waiting to see what life brings you on a silver platter to use.
That is Wendell P. Dipmier in a nutshell.
Stop by WantedHero.com and start reading Chronicles of a Hero.
You might enjoy yourself.
A lot.
