Alexander Bizzell [Bizzell - The Gryphon Generation

The Gryphon Generation

By Alexander Bizzell

Copyright 2018 by Alexander Bizzell

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Resemblances to real people, alive or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover art Cyfrowa Izabela

Acknowledgements

I want to thank Trevor H. Cooley for sticking by my side and editing for me. Without him, this book would have never seen the light of day.

I also want to thank Vale Nagle for spending countless hours of his free time editing for me as well.

The inspiration for writing comes from Jess E. Owen and Larry Dixon. Without them, I would have never become a writer, nor would I have experienced such wonderful gryphon stories.

The gorgeous cover art, along with other fantastic images were created by Cyfrowa Red-Izak Izabela.

Front and rear cover layout was done by my friend, Scott Ford.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 Another Summer Day

The alarm clock screeched in the dark morning of the bedroom. Johnathens hand quickly came to life to beat the snooze button again and again until all was silent once more. He roused from sleep with a pitiful groan before sitting at the edge of the bed.

He sat, staring at the carpet, trying to regain any trace of thought. Suddenly, he felt a smooth and cool sensation on the back of his neck as something rubbed on him gently and a soft trill emitted from behind him. A little smile crept along his face as Johnathen turned to see his wifes eyes, still half slitted, shining green in the dim morning light.

"Hey there," he said before leaning in to kiss along her large, curved beak.

"Hi." A soft chuckle came from her feminine voice, trilling back to him before adding a yawn.

Johnathen found the energy to stand, feeling the cold wood of the bedroom floor beneath his feet. He walked into the bathroom and flipped on the lights, wincing as they instantly blinded him. He groggily walked to the shower and turned it on, adjusting the temperature to his liking before moving to the mirror. With his eyes now attuned to the bright light, he could see himself clearly.

The mountain man in the mirror was a mess. His black hair stood up in a twisted tangle, and his short beard looked as if it had been attacked by a blow dryer. He chuckled in the drunken state of early morning at his disheveled appearance.

It didn't take but a minute for the room to become steamy, indicating it was about time to hop in the shower. As the hot water hit his head, Johnathen gave a loud sigh, closing his eyes and enjoying the warmth running across his body.

He went about his normal routine of shampooing until the glass shower door opened. He squinted his eyes to find his golden brown gryphoness walking in on all fours, feathers just as rumpled as his hair was. She walked up to nuzzle into his upper chest with her sizable beak while the hot water began to run over her face.

"Did you sleep well, Thyra?" he asked.

The large gryphoness nodded, the fleshy edges of her beak curved in a grin while the water beaded over her brown and cream feather coloration. He ran his hands through her thick coat of feathers as the water began to soak into them.

Johnathen let the water rinse off the soap and shampoo from his body while Thyra simply let the hot water seep into her feathers. It was harmful to a coat of feathers to strip them of their natural oils. Only on rare occasions did she use shampoo to get the extra dirt and grime out when exceptionally dirty. The hot water soaking into her feathers made the room smell of her crisp, earthy aroma.

After a while, Johnathen bent down and cut off the shower. He opened the door, letting Thyra out first and then himself. He picked a towel off the rack and began to dry himself off. The gryphoness did the same, sitting on her haunches and using her gray foreclaws to grip the towel as she rubbed it through her thick fur and feathers.

Johnathen picked up his toothbrush and applied paste to the tip. He brushed his teeth while Thyra gargled some mouthwash. Standing on all fours, the top of her head came to Johnathens chest. She primped and preened her feathers while he brushed his medium length hair back, adding product as needed.

You need some help with that? she asked, as it was traditional for gryphons to preen one another.

Johnathen looked over to the digital clock and frowned. Already running late. I must have hit the snooze one too many times.

Wow, I must have been out of it, she said. I didnt even notice.

He went back into the bedroom, finding his clothes already laid out for him. A smile came to his face. It was the little things that she did for him that he appreciated the most.

He quickly threw on his clothes, working on the buttons while walking into the kitchen. Johnathen grabbed his coffee mug and poured himself a cup, adding a bit of milk to sweeten it up. He checked his sleeves and buttoned them up. Thyra walked out of the bedroom and made her way over to the front door to grab the paper.

"Great skies!" she shouted angrily.

Johnathen came to attention. "What's wrong, Thyra?"

"It happened, again," she said with disgust, her hackle feathers raised.

Johnathen walked to the front door to find the front deck littered in broken eggshells. The yolk had already dried on the windows and walls from the Georgia heat. The word 'Abomination' had been spray painted on one of the windows. Johnathen put an arm around his gryphoness to lead her back inside.

"Don't worry Thyra, I will clean it up when I get home," he said reassuringly while her bright green eyes looked down at the floor.

"I don't understand why they do this to us still," she responded, a bit of grief in her gentle voice. She tugged his arm away with a foreclaw and walked over to the couch, slumping down upon it.

Johnathen grabbed his coffee and walked over to the tan-colored couch. He sat down and wrapped an arm around her to bring her warm bundle of feathers closer to him.

"Its just Matthews cult again, Im sure. They are confused and scared that the world is changing but there is nothing they can do about it besides be angry. It's just how these people will always be," he said. He intertwined his fingers in her claws, playing with her wedding ring.

"Don't let those dumbasses get to you. They are too chicken to do any kind of harm anyways. Plus, who would be stupid enough to try to pick a fight with you!" he said with a laugh and reached up to scratch behind her long pointed eartufts. They flicked gently at his attentions and the edges of her muddy brown beak curved into that same beak grin he liked to see.

"It would be the last mistake they would make," she said with a chuckle, her feathers starting to rouse slightly as her mood lightened.

Johnathen leaned in against her for a moment, relaxing against her soft though still damp feathers. He turned his head to look at the clock. "It's about that time."

He sighed and kissed the cere right above her beak. With that, Johnathen stood up and threw on his black blazer, looking back at Thyra who had sprawled out on the couch. When she was stretched out like that her body took up most of the room on the sofa.

"How many deliveries do you have today?" Johnathen asked, changing the subject. He walked around the kitchen counter, retrieving his keys, wallet, and cellphone.

"Only three. It shouldn't take long. Not many people order groceries on a Friday for some reason," Thyra quickly responded as she held the remote in a foreclaw, using a talon to turn on the television hung up on the wall. "Don't work too hard!" she teased.

Johnathen smiled. "You know the law firm never sleeps."

Johnathen opened the door to the garage and stepped inside. He could hear Thyra chuckle as she watched the awful morning talk show she enjoyed for some reason.