Missing Piece

As he slid the last piece of the border into place, Sam nodded to himself with satisfaction. After all, he had done pretty well considering the puzzle's box was so faded and scuffed, he had no idea what it was a picture of.

He had found it on the shelf amongst the pile of old board games and children's books in one of the log cabin's back bedrooms. There was nothing else to do while he waited for the others to arrive so he had poured the pieces out on the kitchen table and began searching for all the edge parts.

Now that the border was done, the more arduous task of turning all the other pieces over and figuring out where they went began.

Surprisingly, with no radio, phone, or any other distractions to impede him, Sam was able to concentrate on the puzzle with feverish ease.

Only a few hours had passed and he had already finished a large chunk of the picture, which seemed to be the interior scene of an old, wooden cabin. Not unlike the very one he and his friends had rented for the weekend.

He had arrived early, but as he looked outside and saw the sun setting through the soot-covered windows he thought that they should have been there by now.

Checking his phone, he was once again ensured there was no reception and no messages had come through as to where they were.

Looking back at the puzzle he saw how much he had actually finished and was even more impressed with himself. Then he took a closer look and noticed the lantern on the wall shelf in the corner of the puzzle's cabin was very similar to the red one on the shelf in front of him.

Not just similar in fact, exactly the same.

The old gas stove in the kitchen was also very like the white one he had just pieced together in the puzzle.

Glancing from puzzle to actual cabin, it became apparent that everything was the exact same; same cabinets in the kitchen, same clock on the wall, same grimy windows; every detail the same.

Maybe it was one of those puzzles you could get made from a person picture or painting, Sam thought. However, the box, though old and worn, seemed store bought, with a specific picture once on the front cover.

Strange he thought, but now that he had realized it, it made finding the pieces much easier. He had the cabin itself as a reference now and it he started to put it together at an even quicker pace than before.

A few unnoticed hours went by as he worked away, until there were only a few pieces in the middle left to put in place.

There seemed to be someone sitting at the picnic table in the kitchen, the double of the one he was seated at. As he positioned a few more pieces into their spots he leaned back and regarded the figure in the chair.

They had their back to him it would seem, and had a red plaid shirt on, almost the exact colour as the one he himself was wearing. No, not almost. The exact some colour as his.

Sam furrowed his brow with unease as he looked down at the scene he had almost completed putting together.

A scene that was unnervingly similar to reality at the moment.

Taking his hand away, he saw that there was only one piece left, the one to complete the seated figure's hunched over body.

After a few moments of gazing at the hole in the middle of the puzzle, he looked around the table to find the completing piece, but there were none more to be found on the table.

Sam then ducked down to see if it had fallen under the table but the floor was bare.

He walked over to the counter where he had left the box and opened it only to find that too was devoid of any puzzle piece.

Scratching his head, Sam sat back down at the table and stared at the incomplete jigsaw. Every detail of the puzzle's scene exactly the same as when he looked at around the real room, the only detail missing was the last piece; the figure's missing piece.

Feeling an odd hollow sensation he looked down to see a puzzle piece shaped hole where his chest should have been.

Jolting to his feet he turned to see his reflection in the mirror that hung beside the cabin's front door.

The hole went all the way through so that he could see the hallway door behind him. The strength went out of his legs and he dropped heavily into the table's chair.

His vision started to blur and dim as he started to move a hand to touch the sides of the gaping hole in his chest, but his arm dropped back down limply and he slumped forward lifelessly onto the table.

The cuckoo clock on the wall and inside the puzzle chimed and went silent.

The Trap

Thick snow flakes fell gently down upon Jon's shoulders as he walked across the empty parking lot, a singular lamp post ahead of him lit the small area directly around it.

The fresh blanket of snow undisturbed, save for his own tracks as he made his way home in the muffled silence of the evening.

While he trudged along he looked up at the darkening sky and watched the flakes as they seemed to appear from the nothingness above and fall quietly down to earth.

When he looked back down, he noticed a solid black box sitting on the ground underneath the lamp's circle of amber light.

Had it been there before?

No snow covered it at all; in fact, as he drew nearer, the snow seemed to fall all about it, yet somehow did not land on its smooth, lacquered surface.

Jon came to a stop in front of the box and looked down at it with curiosity.

Was there a humming coming from within it?

Perhaps there was some motor or other machinery inside creating enough heat to cause the snow to melt before it could settle on the top.

Though, he could see the snow falling around it, never landing directly onto its lid; its lid. This close to it, he now noticed the tiny seam where the top separated from the bottom.

Tentatively, Jon reached down with his gloved hand and the humming he thought he heard grew louder in his ears.

No, not in his ears, the humming was in his head, as if it was some forgotten melody; a warm, inviting hum that filled him with a sense of delight and wonder.

However, underneath, there was a tinge of something else, almost a warning of something slightly askew.

But curiosity overwhelmed his underlying unease and he slipped his thumb under the lip of the lid and lifted it open easily on its hinges.

Inside he found no machinery or electronics; in fact there was nothing inside the rectangle box at all, just darkness.

Trying to adjust his eyes to see to the bottom of the box, he found he could only see darkness within.

Peering into the void of the box, Jon was not aware of the looming figure that has silently arrived behind him; a shadow-robed figure that towered over Jon like a hulking mass of malice.

What could only be described as the creature's feet, peeked out from the bottom of its shroud; scaly and claw-toed, they suggested a monstrous apparition hidden underneath.

As the creature stood above the tiny figure of Jon, chest raising and lowering steadily, its nightmarishly clawed hands clenched and unclenched with anticipation; an unnoticed dread in the peacefully falling snow.

Silently, it observed Jon as he knelt, entranced by the coffin-shaped box that would soon be his tomb.

The Fairy Queen

Dolefully, Lucas walked along the well-worn path, distraught with sadness, not noticing as he entered the dense wood.

A cold wind blew the dead leaves around his plodding feet and he pulled the collar of his coat up to cover his neck, yet nothing could warm the cold that had seeped into his once whole heart.

Broken by yet another girl, Lucas' heart felt empty and hollow like the inside of the many dead trees that now surrounded him. Lost in his thoughts he had not taken notice that he had gone off the path and now stopped to look around at all of the trees that seemed to have gathered up around him, trapping him with their scraggily, dry branches; clawing and scratching at him as if they were alive.

The darkness of the evening seemed to fall unnaturally fast, making shadows seem to leap out and grab at him as he barrelled through the thickening brambles.

Frantically, he pushed his was through them, breaking the branches off in sharp points that cut his hands and face as he stumbled along, blindly trying to find the lost path.

Hopelessness started to weigh him down as no way out presented itself, and Lucas began to fear the dark forest would envelop him; fear that he would die lost and alone.

He stopped to catch his breath and try again to find a path or even a thinning of the brush that surrounded him.

Cuts on his face and hands began to sting and bleed while he circled around, only finding the looming trees still blocking his every direction.

A humming then caught his ear; soft and melodious, in the silence of the wood, building up seemingly all about him.

Swinging around to the right, he spotted a faint glow of light in the distance between the trunks of the trees, immediately, starting off toward the light.

As it grew brighter, warmer, hope crept into his heart. He neared to where the source of light seemed to be, along with the humming that continued to grow into song.

A woman's voice sang out to him just as the light beckoned to him and he raced through the trees that now seemed to open up to let him pass.

He skidded to a stop as he reached a clearing, where a beautiful, glowing woman floated above a small midnight-blue pool of water.

Her translucent robes wavered around her as if blown about by some unfelt breeze. Dark curls of her hair framed her porcelain-skinned face as shimmering wings fluttered at her back.

Lucas gasped at both her beauty and the fact that he was now in the presence of the Queen of all Fairies; her song told him as much, and promised that she could heal his wounds and even his broken heart forever.

Unable to, and unwilling to, Lucas could not resist the allure of her wondrous voice and he stumbled dumbly forward as if in a dream.

With a graceful movement, the Fairy Queen held out her delicate hand to him and he reached out to take it. Yet, as he did so, he felt himself pitch forward into the icy cold water of the pond below where she hovered.

The freezing waters began to solidify around him as he struggled to claw his way back to the surface; to no avail, the vision of the beautiful, smiling fairy became an image of terror as Lucas was trapped forever under the frozen ice.

The Queen of Fairies hummed softly to herself as she smiled down at her enchanted pool; smiled lovingly at the newest addition of lovelorn creatures that had wondered into her wood.

Deep down into the darkness, the multitude of pretty, frozen lads stared back, unseeing, at her majesty.

Sarice

Flakes of pure white snow fell silently amongst the trees of the wood; the already snow-lined branches of the trees muffled almost all sounds in the still forest.

All save the steady thudding of an axe chopping rhythmically.

Sarice wielded her trusty blade against the trunk of a thick pine tree that had begun to die and loose its needles; a fine firewood tree.

With each hearty swing, her axe slashed into the tree deeper and deeper until it started to teeter away from her.

Panting from her labour, she rested while leaning upon the axe handle and watched as the big tree came crashing down with a billowing cloud of powdery snow.

With her harness strapped around her shoulders, she methodically trudged her way through the shin-deep snow, pulling the neatly de-branched tree trunk behind.

Light snow still fell through the canopy of towering trees that dwarfed her as she made her way home with her burden sliding heavily along the ground, aided by the special skis she had fastened to the sides of the big log.

A crashing sound caused her to stop suddenly and stand silent, cautiously listening for where the noise had come from.

Another crash came from somewhere to the west and then another came quickly behind the second, like trees crashing against each other.

Sure enough, in the distance she saw a huge pine tree come careening down in a cloud of flying snow to smash against a neighboring tree so hard its bark began to crack and splinter and fall as well.

Like massive dominos, a row of trees fell over into each other, each landing with a force that shook the ground beneath her as she stood staring at the scene.

The nearest tree to her started to fall as she stood with her hands upon her shoulder straps, calmly watching with curiosity. Not moving even when the tip of the tree top narrowly missed her as it came crashing down to its resting place a few meters in front of her; the billowing gust of wind from the force of the tree fall covering her from head to toe in fluffy, white snow.

The snow had settled again and Sarice began brushing the powder off her heavy coat and fur hat when another noise ripped through the returning silence.

A thunderous roar pierced the cold air as Sarice finished brushing herself off.  Looking toward the beginning of the line of felled trees, she saw a massive brown bear standing on its hind legs, bellowing out at her.

Without a doubt, it had been the one to push over the first tree with its powerful paws and set the whole chain reaction in motion.

The big bear then came down on all four of its powerful legs and began a lumbering run to where she stood.

Showing the charging bear the same calm curiosity she had the falling trees, Sarice simply watched as it barreled closer and closer toward her.

As the bear neared, its shape began to shrink. Passing by the coverings of the branches of the fallen pines, the massive shape of the wild bear changed. As it ran, it became a burly, bearded man, wearing a thick brown fur coat.

The man came to a stop, panting from his run in the snow, a few paces in front of her, still towering over her in stature, yet with a roguish smirk across his handsome face.

Sarice looked from the man to the line of trees and back to his then proudly grinning face.  After a moment of regarding his goofish beaming, she snorted.

"Show off." She huffed and turned to start to pull her log once again, heading north to the cozy log cabin lay just beyond the next gradually sloping hill.

The big man shrugged his broad shoulders and gave a jovial laugh, shaking his head full of curly brown hair. He then headed over to the last fallen tree, bent down, and hefted the entire tree onto his shoulder with a grunt, branches and all.

Swinging it around deftly, he started off to follow the tracks Sarice left behind.

"Yes, dear," he said to himself with a chuckle.

The Warrior and the King of Thieves

She gritted her teeth in a begrudged smile as he offered his hand to her.

Her one good eye glared with apprehension and embarrassed fury, looking from the scoundrel's outstretched hand, to where her men sat around the flickering camp fire.

If any of them had so much as a smirk on their face, she would have slashed them in half with her blade, yet wisely, they all seemed to be very busy being preoccupied with the pretty maidens and handsome lads that filled the bandits' hideaway.

She looked back to their leader, whose hand was still awaiting hers; The King of Thieves asking her to dance. Ha!

His roguish smile matched the mischievous glint in his green eyes, as he looked down at her where she sat upon one of the felled logs they used for benches.

Raising her hand she started to reach out for his, but changed directions in mid-motion to run her fingers through her short-cropped, auburn hair.

Snapping her eye patch strap as an unconscious habit she had adopted when wary of a situation, she gave a snorting smirk and took his hand roughly, pulling herself up almost before he had a chance to back up.

The villain was quick on his feet however, and swooped gracefully into a deep bow at her acceptance to join him. She bowed slightly in return, keeping her azure blue eye on him.

They began to dance; him with a jovial spring in his step, while she countered his moves with the quick caginess of a jungle cat, stalking around a rival.

The minstrels' music roiled with their lutes, flutes, and drums, on which they fervently played as they twirled and spun around the flames of the fire that danced to its own licking rhythm.

Her men now watched blatant as she let the Thief King lift her into the air with a spin and bring her gracefully down again in one fluid motion.

As they dance and the music played on, she found herself lost in the moment. She felt herself as a young girl again, not the fierce and harden warrior she had become.

Feeling as light as air on her twirling feet, she even thought she heard herself laugh along with the handsome scoundrel whom continued to spin and toss her wildly as the music grew more frantic.

The camp scene spun round and round until she was not sure which way she faced and she made herself stop at once with sudden embarrassment.

Looking around the camp, the music no longer played, only the crackle of the fired could be heard, its pops a stark contrast to the silence that now hung in the night air.

Her men stirred from their log seats as if they had just woken from a deep slumber.

Only her men stirred.

The camp was empty save them. The band of thieves and their king had vanished into the night.

With a snarl she snatched at the five bejewelled rings she kept hung around her neck on a chain at all times; her ancient and powerful treasures, for which she had quested all those many years ago; had sacrificed so much to find.

Gone.

Letting out a rage-filled roar, she drew her sword and barked at her men to mount their steeds as she ran to her own black war horse that stood lashed to a near by tree.

The stallion reared as she swung herself up with another guttural bellow. She turned to find her men already upon their horses facing her, awaiting her command.

"Find them, all of them. And destroy them" She ordered in a dark, dangerous voice and they all galloped off with the speed of a pack of wolves setting out to hunt their prey.

As they all disappeared into the darkness just beyond the fire-lit tree line, she looked down at her left hand that gripped the reins. Still resting upon her mid finger, her most prized possession glowed red with shared anger.

The sixth and most powerful ring of power was hers still. With it she would find the others again.

And as for the King of Thieves, he would pay for his mistake of taking them from her.

She clenched her fist and the ring's massive gem stone seemed to radiate its red glow outward, causing the camp fire to extinguish, letting the blackness of the night enshroud the scene; only the light of the ring and the intense blue of the warrior's eye gleaming in the darkness.

Robert Plant Little Maggie from Friedrich Schwabel on Vimeo.

Night Sky

Remy looked up into the vast blackness of the sea of stars above as he sat on his carved stone stool, as he had done each evening for so long he had stopped taking note. Long ago, he has learned to just simply enjoy the silence and solitude that was his, absolute.

For when he sat out there under the loneliness of space, he did not feel alone; the multitude of twinkling stars comforted him.

So Remy took pleasure in the short time he had to sit out under his friends the stars, before having to eventually head back down below.

Below; down deep underneath the surface where he made his home.

Below; where it was warm in the cavernous core of the globe that was so harsh and inhospitable on its desert-like surface.

Lush and full of life, Remy would never begrudge his strange and beautiful home, with its massive, purple jungles, dangerous craggy chasms, and vast crystalline seas.

Every secret hideaway, every hidden nook, all of its wild, exotic creatures, and verdant, nurturing plant life, he loved. Never would he have any resentment or feelings of despair towards its loving shelter.

Yet, when he was down below, he sometimes felt, alone and cut off.

It was only the few short hours in the evening, when he could come up onto the surface and sit atop his stool he had carved from the ancient rock itself, that he felt content and connected to everything around him.

For when he was out sitting under the stars, he could stare up at the glowing blue orb that drifted through space with him.

He would gaze up and study its surface of blues, browns, and greens; so different from the grey, lifeless one of his own home world and wonder. Perhaps, he would wonder, there was another lonely traveller up there, sitting out, starring down at him.

The Trap

The fading daylight outside the window causes the room to darken as I sit motionless in the chair positioned in the corner. Yet, I dare not move to turn on the light; dare not take my eyes away for even a second. For the trap is set.

For hours I have sat and kept watch. This time it will not happen; I will not let it get away. People think I have gone crazy, but I know; know that it is true! And once I capture it, I will prove it; prove it to the world!

However, in the dimming light, my eyes have grown heavy with weariness, and my head threatens to nod under the weight of fatigue.

Then, just for a moment, only half a breath, I close my eyes and I am instantly snapped back awake by the rustling noise I hear on the night stand across the room.

I spring to my feet and slap on the light switch to flood the room with brightness.  Staring over at the table beside my bed I see them; my headphones that I had left perfectly straighten and untangled. But now they sit; a mess of knots.

I rush over to them with an infuriated cry of frustration and snatch them up. Flames of rage fill my eyes as I look at the complex and deliberate workings of knots and tangles the wires are in and I hurl them to the floor.

Scanning the empty room frantically I see no trace of anything else moved or disturbed. With a shout I declare that I know they have been here and that I will catch them in the act when amischievous giggle freezes me where I stand.

From behind me, back at the window by the chair I had just been sitting in, a hateful little laugh sends a shiver down my spine.

Slowly, I turn to see it; a horrid little imp figure standing on the window sill. Its face a mass of knobby warts and growths, its rotten teeth glistening with putrid saliva as it cackles at me.

“Oh, you’ll never catch me!” it mocked with a creaking voice. “And no one will ever believe you, stupid human! I’ll drive you mad! For I, am the Tangler!”

I lurched toward the wretched beastie, but with a snap of its gnarled fingers it disappeared from existence before I could take one step.

Nearly sobbing with anger and frustration, all I could do was drop down to my knees to pick up the insane mess of my favourite headphones and start to try to detangle them. All the while vowing my revenge on, the Tangler!