[Veritas]

Greetings, loyal readers! After a year of posting most of my old stories from the old site, I am announcing the arrival of (cue trumpet fanfare) a NEW Criss Angel tale! My latest creation, entitled Beyond Belief, will deal with such topics as space travel, conspiracy theories, and the end of the world in general. Plus, there will be a VERY special guest making his debut here on the site, so, don't miss it! V.

[LoyalLee]

Can't wait! Just like all your other stories I know this one will be great! Always something new and different..........never the same old thing over and over again. You're an amazing writer Veritas!

[Veritas]

East Meadow, Long Island, NY
July, 1969:


"...three...two...one..."

Two young boys, JD and Costa Sarantakos, watched intently as the grainy televised image of the Saturn V rocket carrying the three Apollo 11 astronauts rose heavenward in a billowing plume of smoke and flame. In a matter of hours, if all went well, they would be the first men to fufill the late John F. Kennedy's goal of landing men on the moon by the end of the decade. The very prospect of traveling through space excited the two brothers and kept them riveted in front of the small twenty-inch television set in the living room. They were glad it was summer vacation: it would have been a shame to miss the Apollo moon launch just because of school. Even at their young age, this wasn't just a news broadcast--this was history in the making before their very eyes!

Their seventeen-month-old baby brother, Christopher, sat between them, oblivious to the significance of the event, despite his older brothers' enthusiasm. "Look, Christopher!" JD said, pointing at the screen, "See the big rocket ship? It's going to the moon!"

Baby Christopher's infant eyes darted from the TV screen to JD to Costa and back again. All he knew was that they were happy about something, and that gave him a sense of well-being. Even so, JD and Costa kept a running commentary to fill him in.

"Didja see that, Christopher?" Costa said excitedly as the first stage rocket of the Saturn V broke away, thrusting the third stage S-IVB rocket enging with the Apollo crew out of the Earth's orbit and into space. "Didja see that? That was so neat!" A big smile almost dominated his small face. "Yeah! That was neat, wasn't it?"

Christopher smiled only because Costa was smiling back at him. Whatever it was that made his brothers happy made him happy, too, though he was too young to appreciate the reason why. He could not comprehend the momentious occasion being played out on millions of television sets across America and the rest of the world. The dull, grey shadows on the TV set piqued no interest in him; he just wanted to be warm, safe, well-fed and loved.

Time wore on. The Apollo Eagle lunar module capsule was approaching the lunar surface, having broken away from the Columbia command module. Its pilot, Michael Collins, would remain in orbit to rendezvous with the Eagle, after Commander Neil Armstrong and Lunar Module Pilot Edwin "Buzz" Aldrin had spent almost a day on the surface of the moon. The two older boys were estatic. They were actually going to see the moon! What would when they got there? What would it look like? They had already dismissed the fanciful tale a neighbor of theirs had told them of the moon being made of green cheese, but the possibilities at that point in time remained endless.

Their baby brother, however, started to grow restless. He squirmed around in JD's arms and began to whimper. As much as he enjoyed his older siblings' company, sitting in one place for so long made him cranky. This irritated JD, who didn't want to miss one single moment of the moon landing. In desperation, he called out, "Mom! Christopher's being a pain again!"

The boys's mother, a sweet-faced young woman named Dimitra, entered the living room at once and scooped up the crying infant. "He's just tired, honey," she spoke in a heavily accented voice. "It's time for his nap."

She carried her youngest son into the nursery, leaving JD and Costa in peace. The two other boys remained transfixed before the television, holding their collective breath as the module drifted across the dusty grey lunar surface. They followed every staticky command, every acknowledgement, the word "copy" repeated over and over again following a high-pitched beep.

"Contact light."

"Shutdown."

"Okay, engine stop. ACA out of detent."

"Out of detent. Auto."

"Mode control--both auto. Descent engine command override off. Engine arm--off. Four-one-three is in."

"We copy you down, Eagle."

"Engine arm is off."

Dimitra laid her baby son in his crib. "There you go, honey," she crooned. "Now you be a good boy and go to sleep now, okay?"

Lying in his crib, his mother's gentle face hovering over him, the sense of well-being returned, and baby Christopher drifted off to sleep to the words of Commander Neil Armstrong:

"Houston, Tranquility Base here. The Eagle has landed."

[RACHEL02189]

why do I have a feeling Criss is going to be the first magician in space?

[Veritas]

Wait and see, dearie, wait and see

[Smurf]

Great chapter looking forward to read more

[Veritas]

Las Vegas, Nevada
Present day:

"Christopher?" Sandra purred.

No response from the huge lump underneath the silken coverlet of the king-sized bed. Sandra gently pulled the hem aside. "Chris," she cooed softly, "time to get up, honey. You'll be late for work."

A faint moan, then a shaggy mane of black hair slowly emerged from the depths of the coverlet. Two red-rimmed, bleary, hazel eyes struggled to focus on Sandra's soft, brown face as Christopher Sarantakos, aka Criss Angel, Las Vegas' hottest illusionist, gradually became vertical. He sniffed, snorted, coughed, rubbed his stubbled face and cursed under his breath. "What time is it?" he rasped.

"Six-thirty," Sandra said.

Despite his disheveled appearance and rancid morning breath, she kissed him full on the mouth. "Now, you'd better hurry up and get moving," she told him. "Your show's not going to tape itself, you know."

Criss managed a smile, then scooped Sandra up in his arms and smothered her with kisses from slender neck to her ample bosom. Sandra giggled and pushed him away. "Stop that!" she laughed. "You'd think you'd have had enough after last night! Save some for the honeymoon, willya?"

"Enough?" Criss sniffed in derision. "I can never get enough of you! And I hope I never do. And why wait for the honeymoon? We can have it right here and now!"

He nuzzled his face into her neck. The stubble from his unshaven face scratched Sandra's skin. "Ow!" she cried. "If you're gonna do that, at least shave, okay?"

Criss held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Sorry," he said, and got out of bed. "Not even married yet and already you're acting like a wife!"

"Is that a compliment or an insult?" Sandra shot back.

Criss pulled on his dark blue robe and padded into the master bath. "Is that a trick question?"

Sandra rolled her eyes in exasperation. She heard a steady stream of water splash on marble tile. "Plenty of room in here," Criss called out. "Wanna join me?"

The invitation was too enticing to refuse. Sandra grabbed a pink silk kimono that had been lying on a chair, pulled it on, and headed for the bathroom. She opened the door and stepped into the steaming shower where her fiance' waited for her sans bathrobe. "Come on in," he said seductively, "the water's fine."

Sandra removed her kimono, revealing her tanned, nude body, and embraced him. "So are you," she murmured.

(Sorry I got to cut this short, but I got to go to work. I'll pick it up later. V.)

[Frenchy92776@aol.com]

pretty good

[RACHEL02189]

Who wouldn't mind be a fly on that wall. PS After reading that I need a cold shower

[Veritas]

(con't)

Sandra wrapped her arms around Criss's waist. A petite woman, she barely came up to his chin, but that did not deter her from reaching up and kissing his wet face. Criss caressed her smooth skin with all the dexterity he had gained from years of card tricks and sleight of hand. The billowing steam swirled around them, condensing on their melded flesh and dripping onto the tile floor. The hissing of the water from the shower, coupled with their moans of pleasure...ah, sweet oblivion!

All suddenly shattered by the irritating deedling of Criss' cell phone in the bedroom.

Criss shot out an expletive like a bullet from a gun, grabbed a towel, wrapped it around his waist, and stormed out of the bathroom. With a deep, disapponted sigh, Sandra turned off the shower, took another towel from the rack and dried herself off. In the bedroom, she could hear Criss babbling away about business with whomever had the temerity to call at the very moment of ecstacy in the shower. These constant demands of her finace's time had become a daily irritation. True, Criss' career allowed them to live the high life--the twenty-five million dollar mansion in which they lived; the expensive cars; the designer clothes--but the one luxury they didn't have was time to be together, alone. Everywhere they went, cameras flashed, perfect strangers called Criss by name and demanded his autograph, a picture, a magic trick or something from him. Even in the security of the estate he called Serenity there was seldom a serene moment with him alone: someone was always calling him on the phone, or knocking on his door. Such was the price to pay for being the bride to be of a celebrity.

Her amorous mood gone, Sandra blow dried her long brown hair and prepared to greet the day. Today, she and Criss would be going to the Luxor Hotel, his base of operations since his MindFreak days, to go over some changes regarding his live show, Believe. With any luck, she might be able to entice him into taking her somewhere for a quiet, private lunch. Yeah, and maybe the moon would fall out of the sky, she thought.