The Wish Granter

Mike Stone knew his time on this earth was limited. He had been officially given 372 hours to

live by doctors. Good thing he didn't care about a thing like mortality, he thought. Mike crawled into

his king size bed, pulling the covers over him, with a pile of books weighing heavily on his bed. Mike

was trying to keep his mind off his condition, and one of the best ways to do that was to A) Drink, and

B) bury his nose in book after book, front to back cover without stopping. Mike enjoyed reading

through the literary classics. From F. Scott Fitzgerald to John Steinbeck. It was a hot summer day, and

Mike's black tee shirt was beginning to make him sweat. Mikes condition of cancer and the

chemotherapy he went through to slow its progression made Mike break out into sweats when lying in

bed. Mike began standing up to get something cold to drink and turn the air conditioning on icy cool.

His house felt like an oven, and he was planning to fix that. Mike was also a compulsive daytime

drinker. Liquor and vodka were his favorite drinks, and the fridge was looking pretty barren. He was

going to have to hire his caretaker to go shopping to pick up some snacks, food, and beverages. Mike

didn't watch television. Just some cartoons here and there. In his opinion television stopped being good

around the year 2000, which tied into the problems in the economy and lack of budgeting in the TV

industry and Los Angeles.

Now, I just sit back and wait to die, Mike thought.

It was depressing as hell now that he thought about it a bit more. Not much happened during the

next few seconds, until Mike became started by the sensation of the the ground started vibrating, and a

glowing luminosity illuminated the upper half of the room. And the transparent smokey figure of a

woman manifested in midair, floating above him.

What do you want!?, Mike asked the floating woman in timid fearfulness. Are you a

ghost??
 Me? The woman phantasm asked. I'm the Thaumaturgist. I'm like a genie. I grant three

wishes and turn them into miracles. What is your first wish?

First wish?? Mike asked out loud to himself. I guess I wish I got to live and didn't have to

die. said Mike

Very well, said the Phantasm. Your wish, she said, ...is granted, and waved her hand.

Suddenly, a vortex opened up, and created an indoor twister. Sparks began flying into the air, as

though they were fireworks. Furniture was being thrown about like ragdolls as Mike held onto his bed

for dear life. Suddenly everything slowed down and the tornado of indoor wind weakened.

Mike's began to feel odd. Suddenly, Mike could feel a pressure in his upper torso, to the point of

it being a bit painful.

What is this feeling? Mike asked the Phantasm.

That's the feeling of your Cancer being erased, said the Phantasm woman. Congratulations,

she added, you're cured.

Say WHAT!? Mike asked, in shock and disbelief. You're saying you cured me of my cancer??

How's that work, asked Mike.

The acts of God were not intended to be questioned, said the Phantasm. Only enjoyed. Like

a fine whine.

The Downtown Star offices were quiet this time of night, in the middle of the night. Only a few

people walked the halls of the office building. Sungur Redgrave peer out the window from his office

desk. Then it hit him. The intuitive insight hit him.

He survived? Sungur asked the empty room. Goddamn it! Sungur shouted to the empty

room. Why can't he just die a simple death like all the others! Needless to say I think I'll be keeping a

very close eye on this one. It's time I finished the job. And with that, he began the work of plotting
against Mike Stone.

Mike sat on the elevated patient chair, waiting nervously, twiddling the fingers of both of his

hands together as he waited for a medical analysis from the doctor.

Nope. Muttered the doctor. No doubt about it. You're cured. You've gone from severe Type

One cancer which is a guaranteed mortality cause, to having a clean bill of health. What's you're secret

Mike? Asked the Doctor. Seriously, though, this doesn't just defy modern medical records, it defies

science, too. Congratulations Michael. You're going to live. Now go home and get some rest...

Can do, said Mike.

Somewhere, in one of the great Roman Cathedrals of Rome, people were gathering, and doing

so in mystical attire. The inside of the St. Arthur Cathedral was illuminated entirely by large candles, to

signify it's proclaimed sacredness. Members of the Druidon Cult could be found wandering about the

edges of the Cathedral Interior in avowed silence. At the center of the cathedral were circles on the

floor, composing a giant target symbol, and above the bulls eye floated a large Sphere with massive

psychic energy. The members of the Druidon cult worshiped the sphere, as it contained much Immortal

power, which could be sensed by the Druidons. They also believed that if they showed enough devotion

to the Mystical Sphere, it would grant them immortal life. They sought Immortality above all else.

Suddenly, one of the senior members of the sect proclaimed, SILENCE, the Mystical Ball is speaking

to us again! The Deacon of the Roman Cathedral approached the Sphere.

How can I be of service, to you, my master?, asked the Deacon.

A Shadow shrouded figure from another realm appeared in the center of the orb.
 Listen well to me, non-immortals, rasped the Shadow Figure.

There is a man somewhere in the western world who has somehow, out of seemingly nowhere,

attained a power that rivals our own. It's up to your group to kill him the figure in the Sphere

continued to rasp.

Really?? said the Deacon. Is he really that much of a threat to our sect, asked the Deacon.

Isn't the sacred's message supposed to be live and let liv-, asked the Deacon as his question was cut

off by the mysterious figure.

NO! Shouted the mysterious man in the glass.

The man in the Sphere was covered in shadow. His face indecipherable.

No! NO NO NO! He must die, and you must kill him. Or we are ALL DEAD! Do you not

see!? chattered the Shadow figure.

The deacon sighed a very deep sigh. Very well. We will find him and kill him. Thy will is

done.

The shadow figure continued on with his ominous sermon.

You must find the harnesser of The One. The One Who Grants the Wishes. Once you Kill the

Guardian of the Spirit, the Keys to Immortality Will Be Yours. This feat must be achieved under the

light of the moon. The spirits have informed me, his name, is 'Mike'. You Must Kill 'Mike'.

With a clean bill of health, Mike decided to put away the Phantasm he had summoned. He had

been gaining more control over his new powers. With his health intact, he arose from bed. His body

had been covered in sweat from being bedridden for months on end, so the first thing he did was take a

shower and get a change of clothes. With that he decided to turn on the television and watch some TV

to relax. Not much was on at this hour, 10 o'clock at night. Some South Park, Jimmy Fallon, PBS,

Discovery, MTV Classic. There just wasn't much on television lately. So Mike headed over for the
fridge to see what he could get to eat. There was a Pizza he had ordered with his inheritance money.

Mike was going to let the pizza be for another day or two, but he was starving. He also had a few

cartons of Pepsi stashed around his house. Mike heated up the leftover Pizza he had in the microwave

and chowed down.

Chris, one of Mike's best childhood friends, needed a few seconds to gather and compose

himself.

Whoa dude, hold on a second. You mean to tell me you got your very own Genie!? That's so

cool!

Mike nodded. Phantasm actually, but yes.

And you mean to tell me you can just summon her with a spell and she just appears as a

floating spirit out of smoke and thin air??

Mike nodded.

That is so cool man! Chris exclaimed, loudly and enthusiastically, his energy gathering.

Mike felt excited too, especially now that he had someone to show his prize off to. You know it bro!

Said Mike.

Here Chris, watch this, I'll show you.

And with that Mike summoned the Phantasm again with a wave of his palms through the thin

air in front of him. And for the second time, the Genie Phantasm appeared.

I am the Phantasm Genie of Centuries Past. Who hath summoned me, and what is thy wish.

Okay, said Mike, Listen, Phantasm spirit, this is my friend Chris. I am Mike, your master.

Yes Master, what is your wish, asked the spirit.

That's the thing, Mike said. Could I transfer the ability to make my second wish to the

property of my best friend here?

 The spirit paused for a moment.

Very well, chanted the Phantasm. What is thy Wish, Chris?

Oh, wow! I hadn't thought of it. Um, well, give me a second, and I'll see if I can't come up with

something to wish for. I wish to travel the world, I guess, replied Chris.

Very well, said the Phantasm, It is so.

The Phantasm cast the spell and waved her arms as mysteriously light and wind gusts surrounded her.

Your wish is granted.

Chris checked his wallet as he felt movement there, and not surprisingly it was filled with all

sorts of passports and plane tickets.

Wow, Chris said. Pretty cool, he said.