The real and imaginative adventures of Dennis Spielman

Author: Dennis Page 68 of 180

The Spiral Staircase in the Woods - art by Janine De Guzman at Design Pickle

The Spiral Staircase in the Woods

During a morning jog, two friends take a detour to explore a mysterious spiral staircase that leads to a trap.


Sydney had long since accepted Chloe’s need to pause, change course, and explore during their weekly jog together. In the beginning, Sydney was annoyed by her friend’s curiosity as she preferred to keep a steady pace. After several exciting detours, she grew to love the deviations as they added a sense of adventure. Sydney often found herself jogging alone for brief periods before realizing Chloe wasn’t by her side, but this time, Chloe put her arm in front of Sydney to stop themselves.

“Look at that,” Chloe said, pointing out toward the woods.

Sydney scanned the scene. Behind a battered and boarded manufactured house stood a spiral metal staircase that reached up into the treetops. 

“That’s weird,” Sydney commented. “It reminds me of that suspended staircase public art piece in Automobile Alley.”

Chole raised both arms into the air. “We should climb it!”

“I don’t know if that’s safe…”

“I bet it was put there on purpose so you can see the birds. Don’t you want to see the birds, Syd?”

Sydney sighed. “I’ll do it for the birds.”

“Yay!” Chloe cheered as she jogged to the staircase. 

Sydney followed. Without a second thought, Chloe ran up several steps while Sydney stopped to inspect the staircase for safety. The staircase didn’t fall with Chloe going full force, but Sydney wasn’t sure how exactly the steps were standing as she couldn’t see any wires or beams holding the structure in place.

Chloe ran up several more stairs. “Come on. It’s safe.”

Sydney chased after her friend, who ran up higher, giggling. They reached the top, which led to a metal-enclosed balcony capable of holding a small group of visitors. The sun started to rise off in the distance as Sydney stood next to Chloe.

They soaked in the warmth of the sunrise as the sun painted the sky a vibrant orange. Neither of them said anything to each other. Sydney glanced over at Chloe, watching the sunlight glide over her freckled face. She turned back to the sky, searching for any birds.

After a moment, Sydney could sense Chloe’s restlessness. “Ready to head down?”

Chloe bolted. “Last one down has to buy brunch!”

“Cheater!” Sydney shouted as she after her friend. 

Chloe only managed to stay a few steps ahead. Sydney knew she could beat her, but as hard as she tried, she couldn’t seem to get past her. She kept running and running and running, never gaining on her.

Sydney stopped to catch her breath, and so did Chloe. “Shouldn’t we be down by now?”

“Yeah, going downstairs is always easier and faster.”

“I see the bottom,” Sydney said, trying to rationalize their predicament. 

“Me too,” Chole said as she started to walk down. “Come on, let’s keep going.”

The two walked down the stairs, keeping an eye on the grassy floor. Neither could explain the phenomenon, but the more they went down, the more they did not get any closer to the bottom.

“I’m starting to freak out a bit now,” Chloe confessed.

Sydney looked over the rail. We’re too far to jump safely, she thought. Out of a sense of placement, she looked up. There were two people on the balcony. 

“There are people up there.”

Chloe looked up. “How did they get there?”

“Let’s go find out.”

In the balcony viewing area stood a tall, slender man in a white and pink suit with a woman of a similar build, but a little shorter and in a red dress holding a tablet device. Their similar hair and face structure made Sydney assume the two were siblings. Behind them was a white metal door with a golden accent strip.

“Looks like they found us, Raven,” the man said as Sydney and Chloe reached the top.

“Indeed they have, Loki,” the woman said.

“Do you think they know what’s wrong, Raven?”

“I think they suspect something, Loki.”

“I think you are correct, Raven.”

“Okay, what’s going on?” Sydney demanded. 

“Shall we tell her, Raven?” Loki asked.

“I think you should tell her, Loki,” Raven responded.

“But you have a way with the words, Raven.”

“As do you, Loki.”

“Would one of you explain what’s going on?” Sydney interrupted. “I don’t care who. Take turns if you must.”

“This staircase is a construct of your fears, Sydney,” Loki explained.

Raven tapped on her tablet. “Like any fear, the only way to break free is to confess your truth.”

Loki opened the door. On the other side was an impossible night scene of a series of office cubicles. Raven stepped inside, followed by Loki. “Good luck.”

Loki closed the door behind him. The door disappeared in a blink the moment the door shut.

“What truth do you need to confess?” Chloe asked, visibly freaked out. 

Sydney looked into Chloe’s eyes. Actions are more powerful than words, she thought to herself right before she kissed Chloe. Chloe returned the embrace. When they parted, they discovered they were on the ground where the staircase once stood. 

“Been waiting for that,” Chloe admitted. 

Sydney smiled. “So, who has to buy brunch?”

“I think we’ll count that one as a tie.”

Out of sight in the abandoned home, Loki and Raven watched as Chloe and Sydney jogged off together. Loki tossed Raven a golden coin, which she caught and put in her dress pocket.

“You won that one,” Loki admitted. “I thought it would’ve taken them much longer to escape.”

“Don’t worry. You got more opportunities.”


The Spiral Staircase in the Woods - art by Janine De Guzman at Design Pickle

This week’s short story was inspired by the following writing prompt: “You’re walking home and you see a solitary staircase in the woods behind an abandoned house. They go up into the treeline. Out of curiosity, you start walking up them. After walking up for a while you decide to go back but never reach the bottom. When you look back up again you see the top.”

Thank you to Janine De Guzman at Design Pickle for bringing the platform scene to life. If you want to read another story with Chole and Sydney, check out The Oak Tree Box.

Oklahoma Pies Vol. 1

In this first installment showcasing Oklahoma Pies, I visited five places in the Oklahoma City area. This episode hears from owners of chefs from Caeli’s Sweets, Eats & Bar, Heifers & Hens, Ingrid’s Kitchen, Pie Junkie, and Whole Latte Pie about the pies they offer.

For this episode, I let the owners/bakers talk about themselves and their pies. I filmed at least two takes and took the best parts for their segment. With this being a montage video, I spent about an hour at each place and most of Monday editing it all together. I love how well it turned out and how each segment stood out on their own.

If this episode does well, I got more to feature in a future installment.

Thank you to my supporters on Patreon for helping to make Uncovering Oklahoma possible! Supporters get awesome rewards, like early access to my episodes. Big thanks to superstar supporters: Lynn and Steve Keller-Kenton Family and Revolve Productions.

Lost Angel - art by Mikey Marchan at Design Pickle

Lost Angel

While several deities prepare for game night in Hades’ library, an angel crash lands in the underworld, bringing a mystery. 


“Hades, can we keep him?”

“Persephone, it’s not a small pigeon to nurse back to health, it’s an angel.”

A chihuahua bolted between Hades’ feet to sniff the slightly crumpled angel lying on the white-marble floor in front of them. Several more of Hades’ dogs popped their heads out from around the library to investigate the commotion.

Hades looked at the pieces of the stained glass window scattered around the library. At least the angel didn’t crash through my favorite window, Hades thought on the positive side although the angel did leave a streak of blood on his clean floors. Hades suspected some of the blood that covered the angel came from whatever he fought before the fall.

“He’s so precious,” Persephone whispered as she glided her fingers over the angel’s smooth, youthful face. “I wonder where he came from?”

“I’m sure someone will be here shortly to collect him,” Hades assured as he picked up his chihuahua. “Leave him be. Our guests are about to arrive for game night, and I, for one, would like a break.”

“Ho, ho, ho,” a joyous voice announced.

The chihuahua barked and jumped out of Hades’ hands. The tiny dog ran to a white-bearded man dressed in red shorts and a topical button-up t-shirt while carrying a large red sack. Dogs of various sizes and breeds rushed to the newcomer with their tags wagging. The man opened up his bag and tossed out dog cookies.

“Santa, you jolly bastard,” Hades greeted with excitement. “What games did you bring for us today?”

“Depends on who ends up joining us,” Santa replied while petting all the dogs. “I got Ticket to Ride, Cards Against Humanity, Catan, Midnight Zombie Sabotage, and a bunch more. I left Pandemic at the workshop. Seemed a bit too real given current events.”

All the lights and flames in the library flickered off then returned with a gradual spread away from a midnight-skinned goddess with a glittery dress.

“You’re here, [Goddess of Shadows*]!” Persephone shouted with glee as she ran over and hugged her friend. (*Persephone called the goddess by her true name, but her name becomes her title for those not allowed to know it.) 

As the two embraced, the Shadow Goddess caught sight of the fallen angel. “Are we doing a murder mystery game tonight?”

“Ooh! Yes! Let’s solve the mystery of who killed the angel,” Persephone encouraged. She put on a gray deerstalker cap that she conjured from her purple dress pockets. “The game is afoot.”

“I told you,” Hades spoke in a calm tone, “someone will be here for him any—”

Flying down from the hole the angel made, a green dragon landed next to the injured angel. The dragon morphed into a humanoid form.

“Neon!” Persephone cheered. “I thought you were working?”

“I’m technically here for him,” Neon said as he lifted the angel. “This human wished to be an angelic warrior. Obviously, that had consequences. Thank you for not tossing him aside.”

“I knew someone would be here to collect him,” Hades said with a modest tone. “Wasn’t expecting it to be you. The kid made a wish, huh?”

“Yeah, around Volo Grant.”

“I’m sure Volo feels awful,” Santa commented. “That kid tries so hard, but he can’t control the wishes.”

Neon stretched out his wings. “Thank you again for watching him. I’d better get back to Earth.”

Dionysus joyfully strolled in the library with a case of wine as he watched Neon fly away through the ceiling with an angel in his arms. “Did I miss anything?”


Lost Angel - art by Mikey Marchan at Design Pickle

This week’s short story was inspired by the following writing prompt: “Hades can we keep him?” “Persephone, it’s not a small pigeon to nurse back to health, it’s an angel,” the discussion goes as they look at the slightly crumpled figure laying in front of them.

Thank you to Mikey Marchan at Design Pickle for bringing this scene to life!

Broke Brewing Company

Broke Brewing Company in Oklahoma City near Route 66 is all about the juxtaposition of broke and decadent, modern and classic. Charn Langford, Mike Groshong, Andrew Whitney talk about their drink selection, which includes and mix of modern and classic beers, as we as other fermented beverages like kombucha.

Visit Broke Brewing Company inside Project 3810 at 3810 North Tulsa Avenue in Oklahoma City.

I got to have some fun on the edit with this story, giving a unique flair for the episode. I hope you all enjoy it and get to check them out if you’re into craft beer. I’m working on a pie episode for next week and I’ve filmed four pie places so far, with one more scheduled for Saturday. I’m also doing some interviews in Norman with Yellow Dog Coffee and Sergio’s. Client work has been keeping me busy hence last week’s event recap videos. I do hope to share the stuff I’ve been working with Oklahoma Contemporary with you soon. The new building and upcoming opening exhibition are amazing. 

The New Windows at The Last House

Gia is brought back to the end of time by a friend to investigate the new windows at The Last House.


“I think we should kill it.”

Gia crossed her arms and rolled her eyes at Slayer. “That’s your solution to everything.”

Slayer floated in front of Gia. Slayer’s ghostly, black-draped crystalline form would’ve given anyone the chills from its presence. However, being a fellow end-timer herself, Gia was able to turn that feeling off. In contrast to Slayer’s form, Gia took the appearance of a human with the charming beauty of an actress dressed in a black cocktail dress with matching stockings, a short leather jacket, a jade bracelet, and red sneakers. She also only had two arms compared to Slayer’s four.

“Why are we here?” Gia inquisitively asked. “There’s nothing left for us here.”

There was almost nothing left. All the stars had burnt out. All the planets had been destroyed or withered away ages ago. All the end-timers born on this rock floating through an endless black swamp of rolling midnight had all scattered back in time to periods where there was still life. What did remain was a structure they referred to as The Last House, which stood before the two end-timers.

The Last House was a dilapidated three-story mansion. Gia was always impressed that the building had managed to be still standing and retained its purple exterior paint. As Gia looked at the house, she had a feeling the structure had changed since her last visit.

“Do you notice it?” Slayer asked.

“I’m not sure,” Gia replied. “Is there something different about it?”

“The windows. They’re solid red now.”

“They are. How’d you notice this?”

“I like to come back here from time to time to see if anything is different – if any one of us had managed to change the end.”

Gia always liked to think of endings as the start of a new act, a new story, but being here, Gia felt the true grim weight of the end. She shifted the subject. “Why bring me?”

“You’re the most creative of us,” Slayer unashamedly admitted. “If I investigate The Last House with anyone, I want it to be with you because if something does go awry, you’ll find a solution.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet of you, Slayer.”

“Don’t make me regret this,” Slayer said as they led the way to the front door with Gia following beside him. “When was the last time you were here?”

Gia sighed. “It would’ve been lifetimes ago.”

Gia stepped on the wooden porch. The porch responded with a creaky hollow that she ignored as she opened the eggplant-colored door. To Gia’s surprise, the golden door handle had a pristine shine. The inside was a chaotic collage of architectural styles from various time-periods from numerous planets. Her eyes darted all over the place, trying to make sense of the building. She ran her finger on the red glass windows. The color wiped away with her stoke, leaving a tacky reside on her fingertip.

Slayer did the same with one of their hands. “This is blood. Fresh blood.”

“How is that possible? Are there any other end-timers around?”

“No, we’re the only ones here.”

Gia flicked the blood off her finger. “I don’t think we’re alone.”

The ceiling began to pour down with blood. It washed over every surface of the walls, reaching the Milky Way color marbled floor. It drifted around them, as if it was sentient, and pooled together in the center of the room. From the ground, the blood stood up, taking a humanoid form with dragon-like wings.

“Freedom is mine,” the blood creator roared as it bolted out the open front door.

Gia and Slayer looked at each and shrugged.

“Not very many places for it to go,” Slayer commented, unworried.

“Yeah, you said it,” Gia added. “The question remains, which one of us locked it up here and why?”

“It could even have been us, but it hasn’t happened in our timeline yet.”

“That’s true.”

Gia and Slayer casually strolled out of The Last House, with Gia closing the door behind. In the foggy field before them stood two free-standing doors. One was green and the other red, with the green one being Gia’s time machine and the other belonging to Slayer. The blood creature was nowhere in sight.

Slayer opened his door. On the other side was a sunny, sandy desert. “Until our paths cross again.”

Gia nodded goodbye as Slayer went through their door. The moment the door closed, it blinked out of existence as if it was never there. Gia opened her door, leading to a theatre stage. As Gia closed her door, a small puddle of blood slipped its way through.


This week’s short story was inspired by the following writing prompt: “Creation is no more. What remains is an endless black swamp of rolling midnight. Terrible and boundless. The only thing that persists, that continues on into the darkness, is the Last House, an old construct that harbors all those that are left from the feast of Night.”

Page 68 of 180

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