Catula

Detective Meowser chased the shadowy figure down the alley, jumping to avoid the upturned trash cans that littered the rain-slicked lane. His quarry moved with an unnatural quickness, like a silhouette moving with the flickering light.

He had come upon another victim laying amongst the refuse, the same bite marks on her neck as the others they had found across the city over the past few weeks. Almost all of their blood drained from their bodies, except for the trickle that matted their neck with damp, sticky red.

Usually, murder victims they found in the streets were slashed with claw and bite marks all over their bodies, with pools of blood all over the place, from the victim and the attacker.

Yet, these murders were baffling everyone on the force, with no other signs of struggle, no traces, no leads; no witnesses.

Until now.

Meowser had been coming home after his shift when he had heard a clattering in the alley across from his apartment building.

Seeing a prostrate figure among the piles of trash bags on the ground, he had scampered over to find that she was already dead, but only just. He was sniffing around for any scent when out of the corner of his eye he had seen the movement in the shadows.

With a shout he started after the fleeing figure as they disappeared around the corner of the back of the building.

Now, he had caught up with the shadowy figure in the next alleyway, which came to a dead end in the darkness.

Slowing to a cautious stalk, Detective Meowser strained his already attuned eyes to try and see where the figure hid in the darkness.

A blur came toward him and before he could react, it knocked him down to the wet pavement.

Quickly jumping back up with a hiss, Meowser stood on his hind legs and drew his pistol.

"Freeze!" he shouted, and to his surprise the figure did.

"Turn around slowly." Meowser ordered as he raised the gun level.

The figure seemed to be wearing a full length black cloak, and as they slowly turned, they somehow seem to enlarge, growing to take up the entire alley way.

Meowser watched in stunned silence as they came round to face him and he saw that they were all black with a strip of white along the front of their long body. Glowing red eyes blazed out at him with anger and malice.

Remembering where he was after a fuzzy moment, Meowser aimed his pistol, "Get your paws up where I can see em, fuzz ball!"

Slowly, the caped cat raised his paws up while holding the edges of his red-lined cloak, spreading it wide open.

"Drop the cape and hands on your head!" Meowser shouted as he cocked the gun.

With a snarl, the black cat bared its abnormally long front fangs and started to swoop in toward Meowser.

Without hesitation, Meowser fired three rapid rounds with no apparent effect on their target.

Meowser quickly ducked as the caped cat rose with a graceful leap over him. He watched with disbelief as the black shape of the raising cloak shrunk and changed into the flapping wings of a giant bat.

The creature flew silently into the night sky as Meowser stood staring up at the opening between the closely packed buildings.

Sirens wailed in the distance; someone must have called in about the gun shots.

He looked down at the pistol and double checked that he had indeed fired the three rounds; he had. And none of them had hit their mark at point blank range.

As the flashing of the police car lights came around the corner, Meowser could only think of one thing; how he was going to explain this to the Chief?

Haunted

Some places are haunted.

Most of the time, buildings are just plain old buildings, with nothing special about them; nothing to hide.

But sometimes, some places are haunted.

Like the house that was down the street from our place. My bothers and I had to walk passed the empty old house on our way to and from school each day, and we would always hold our breath and sprint by while passing it.

My oldest brother had said that no one had lived there for years because a young boy had died there horribly and his spirit haunted his family each night until it drove them mad and they had to be taken away.

My mother had said not to listen to him and that the family had just moved away and no one would buy the house because it would be so expensive to fit up.

But still, you could feel the house was wrong, even though we were just kids, we could tell, it was haunted.

Every year at Halloween we would dare each other to go up and ring the doorbell to see if a ghost would answer, and every year we would all chicken out.

Then one day I had to stay late at school to finish a collage I was making for my fall project. My brothers would not wait for me and so I had to walk home alone; passing the haunted house, all by myself.

All of my concentration was on the looming house as I came closer to it so I did not see Ralph Dedramin ahead of me with all his cronies and I bumped into the back of him.

All the worry about the house vanished because Ralph posed a much more real threat, being the biggest jerk and bully in the neighbourhood.

I stammered an apology but he just sneered and grabbed my brother's baseball I had borrowed at recess. He threw it at the old house and it smashed through one of the front windows.

"Go fetch." He had said as he shoved into me with his shoulder and left, laughing with his stupid buddies. Their braying was muffled in my ears as I stood and stared at the foreboding house, tears welling in my eyes.

Not tears of fear or embarrassment, but rage at Ralph for thinking I was such a baby I would not go in and get my brother's ball.

I would show him, I would go in and get it and show up to school with it and prove I would not be bullied by him and his group of jerks.

Using the anger as fuel, I made my legs start moving toward the walkway that led up to the rundown old porch. The creaking steps startled me and I realized I had arrived at the house already. Only then, did the fear creep back into me and I hesitated on the first step.

I looked into the window that the ball had gone through; a round, cracked hole was the only trace of change the house had had in many years.

The ball was probably just inside, and fairly close to the entrance I tried to convince myself. I could just grab it and run out again in less than a minute; if I could get in.

Gathering my courage, I climbed the creaking steps onto the rickety porch and walked shakily across the bending boards to the front door.

Trying the knob, I gave it a turn and was surprised when it turned rustily in my hand. However, the door did not budge when I pushed against it. With a sigh, my heart sank further as I let go the knob and moved to look into the grimy old window.

As I started to move though, I heard a click and a slow creak as the door fell open slightly on its own.

A coldness ran through me as I turned to see the blackness that lay beyond the door, as if it was alive and beckoning me to enter inside of it.

Steeling myself, I held my breath and rushed into the opened door; the lack of light inside causing a temporary blindness until my eyes adjusted to the light from the still open door and grimy windows.

Dust settled in a thick layer on the floors and mouldings of the dilapidated entrance; as though no one had disturbed it for decades.

Through the doorway to the right I could see into what must have been the living room. Its wooden floors caked with dust as well. Except for a trail of circular impact points and a thin, straight line where the ball must have bounced in and rolled to a stop.

And, just as I had thought, sitting in a pile of dust, the ball sat only a few meters away. A rush of relief made me brave again and I stepped quickly though the doorway to the living room.

At almost a run, I reached where the ball lay and stooped to pick it up.

In one motion I grabbed the ball and pivoted to turn and run back out, but as I did, the old floor boards groaned under even my light weight, and the world crashed suddenly around me and I fell into darkness.

The last thing I can remember before being enveloped into the blackness, was feeling my brother's ball slip from my hand.

That was so long ago; a lifetime. And yet, here I am, still searching in the dark; searching from room to room, hall to hall.

Will you help me please? Help me find my brother's lost ball?

8Bit

The pixelated rain fell outside the digital castle window as the 8bit princess sat gazing out.

She let out a digitized sigh and thought of how exciting it would be to live in one of those other castles that were always seized by some big bad boss monster and she held captive until a handsomely rendered 8bit hero came to rescue her.

Instead of living here in her dull life with her father and mother, whom were only the rulers of a secondary level realm and so their grey toned castle was only ever passed by while some other hero went on their way to rescue some other princess that had be captured.

She turned one hundred and eighty degrees to face her minimally decorated room. Gliding to the blue-hued mirror she looked at her pixelled face and acquired a hair brush from the brown desk to her left.

She moved the brush in an up and down motion against her blonde hair as she gazed absently at her reflection.

She would most likely have to marry some boring duke or boring earl from one of the other boring kingdoms to whom her mother always introduces her to at one of her boring balls with boring digi orchestra music.

They would live boring lives where nothing ever happened except more boring balls.

And they would inherit her father's boring castle and continue to be part of the far off background as heroes pass by on their more exciting adventures in their more exciting lives.

She turned back to the window as the rain stopped falling, heaving another sampled sigh.

In the distance she could see a boxy shape moving steadily towards the castle in leaps and bounds.

For a moment she felt her heart flutter in its programming as a square-jawed hero stopped in front of their drawbridge to speak to a passing peasant.

Her hopes then sank as the peasant pointed to the warp portal to the right of the castle that led to the next realm; leading to a more exciting princess in other castle; leading away from her.

Oh well, she though with another deep sigh, perhaps she will go play that old paddle and ball game.

O Night

Come, O Night,

Come; enwrap me in your shadows,

Come; hide me away from the light.

Leave me, Light,

Leave me be in the dark,

Leave me to myself in the night.

Away I have run,

Away you have driven me,

Away, out of mind and out of sight.

Return, O Love,

Return to me, my Heart,

Return and never again take flight.

Here, you have come,

Here, you have fought back the night,

Here, you have brought back my heart into the Light!

Tell Me a Story

"Tell me a story, Uncle Jimmy!" Young Will asked excitedly as his Uncle Jimmy helped him into bed.

The boy got under the covers and sat up, wide eyed and awake, smiling as his Uncle Jimmy smirked and handed him his favourite stuffed bear.

"Maybe one." Uncle Jimmy said with a chuckle. "Which do you want?"

He reached over to the shelf beside the small bed that was filled with all sorts of children's books; all of which Will had heard him read a dozen times before.

"'The Kittens Lose Their Mittens'? 'Frank and Bean Visit the Gas Factory'? 'Hank the Crabby Tyrannosaurus'?" Uncle Jimmy named off some of the boy's favourites.

"No, no, Uncle Jimmy!" Young Will protested playfully. "Tell me a new story, one of YOUR stories!"

Uncle Jimmy gave a tired sigh and shook his head.

"You don't want to hear my story, Willy." Uncle Jimmy smiled knowingly. "I really only have one good one and I'm sure you wouldn't like it. Now, let's see, what about 'Snootles Loses Her Noodles'?"

Will pouted and crossed his arms in a huff. "No, Uncle Jimmy! I wanna hear YOUR story! Please tell it to me! Please!"

Uncle Jimmy put on a frown and shook his head sternly. "No Will. You really do not want to hear my story."

"I'll hold my breath unless you tell it to me!" Will stated whinily and puffed out his cheeks while holding his breath in protest.

"Will, don't be a suck." Uncle Jimmy said annoyed. "I won't tell you ANY story if you don't stop that right now."

Young Will kept right on holding his breath; arms crossed stubbornly.

Uncle Jimmy gave an exasperated sigh and put up his hands in surrender.

"Fine, Willy. Fine." Uncle Jimmy ceded. "You want to hear it, I will tell you."

Will let out his held breath and giggled as he clapped his hands excitedly.

"But only if you REALLY want me to." Uncle Jimmy warned with a finger held up to point at Will.

Will nodded his head fiercely in agreement. "Yes! Oh, boy! I bet it's a good one!"

"Ok then. If you are really sure." Uncle Jimmy asked one last time.

"Yes, I'm sure! Tell me!" Will rocked back and forth with anticipation.

"Alright," Uncle Jimmy ran his hand though his thick hair. "I wasn't going to tell it to you until you were a little older, but if you insist."

He leaned in closer to Will and beckoned for him to do the same.

The night lamp on the bedside table cast their long shadows on the wall beside them as they huddled in.

"You see, the thing is," Uncle Jimmy started almost at a whisper. "The thing is; you don't really have an Uncle Jimmy."

The glee on Will's face was replaced by puzzlement as jIMmY's smirk returned.

Slowly, JiMMy motioned with his pointed finger for Will to look over to the far wall's mirrored closet doors.

The puzzlement was then replaced with sheer terror as Will looked at the reflection he saw in the mirror.

An ear-splitting scream fell out of Will's gapping mouth for a moment and went silent.

When his mother and father rushed into the room, they found Will, alone, leaned back in bed, wide eyed and stiff.  Dead from the fright of seeing whatever he had pointed to in the mirror's reflection.

The Chase

Finally, I had caught up with them. The one I had chased across the vast seas, the deep jungles, the arid deserts, the frigid ice fields; the entirety of the globe.

The one that had always been a step ahead of me; just gone as I thought I had at last tracked them down.

It had been so long since I had set out on my quest to catch my quarry, I had long ago forgotten the reason. The reason was no longer important; only the chase and the goal of meeting my adversary mattered.

Now, that chase was coming to an end.

Finally cornered in this study in the tower in this remote old castle, my quarry sits, facing away from me in a high-backed desk chair.

I take no notice of the debris that litters the stone floor as I move toward them slowly; I only focus on the one that sits, waiting for me.

"It has been so long, my old friend." I say aloud in a voice that cracks with disuse, "Yes, old friend. For what else are we; we who have played this game for so long. You are all I have left in my life."

I move closer to my silent companion as they sit unmoving. I reach out to take hold of the corner of the seatback.

"Now, let us meet at last!"

I turn the chair around with a horrified gasp.

Seated in the chair, staring lifelessly up at me with a sickening lipless grin, is a withered and dead corpse; wearing my clothes.

I stumble in shock and lose my footing on the loose debris scattered upon the ground and fall back still staring into the dead eyes of my doppelganger.

As I try to find a clear area of the floor, I finally look at what litters the cobblestones.

Skeletons; all at different stages of decay; all wearing my own clothes.

I scramble back up to my feet and back away from the piles of bones, bumping back into the chair where my once-adversary sits, knocking the rotting caucus onto the ground with the rest of them.

Heavily, I drop down into the chair and stare in disbelief.

For what may be hours I sit in shock, surrounded by the skeletons of other me's.

Then, a thought comes to me.

Had I been so focused on chasing this 'other', always looking ahead; had I not noticed what may have been behind?

Slowly, I rotate in the chair to peer out of the room's only window; the sun setting in the west casting an ominous light upon the rolling hills of the green landscape.

As the shadows grow, so too does my mood grow darker.

Oh, I will wait. I will sit and wait right here for the one who has chased after me.

I will wait for as long as it takes, to face my unmet pursuer.

Jewel of Life

There is a story that is told, that once there was a great Alchemist who created a powerful crystal jewel with the power to imbue life upon lifeless objects.

To test the jewel, he placed it within a small wooden bird he had fashioned. Once the jewel was in place within the bird's breast, it sprang to life and flew about the Alchemist's study.

The Alchemist tried in vain to catch the flitting thing before it flew out the window of the tall tower where he resided. Unfortunately, when he lunged to grab at the bird as it darted out the open window, he missed and fell to his death.

The bird on the other hand, flew higher and higher into the sky.

Not needing air to breath, water to drink, or food to eat, the little wooden bird continued to rise until it rose clear out into space.

Amongst the stars it floated, out passed planets and suns most bright. It floated through galaxies; forever travelling away from its home world left so far behind.

Until at last, the heavy gravity of a giant passing planet caught the bird in its pull.

As it fell down through the planet's atmosphere, the little wooden bird that travelled so long and so far, burnt up in flames, leaving only the crystal jewel to fall like a shooting star from the sky and land in the vast mountains of the planet's snowy north.

"And it is here that we are going, my sisters!" Ursula said as she pointed to the holographic display of the topography map being projected above the com-station.

Inside the dimly lit communications room of the compact space craft, the four women stood watching their commander with admiration and excitement; for they had finally arrived at the fabled planet Ronin, where the Jewel of Life was legend to rest.

Commander Ursula had told the fantastical story of the wooden bird many times before and they had always been rapt by its imagery. Even though they knew that it was only a children's story, now that they were closer to the actual planet, it filled them with a giddy energy.

Despite herself, Ursula could not hide a grin as well. Soon, they would have the prize that had eluded so many Hunters before. A prize worth so much, they could all retire and live comfortably the rest of their lives.

As their ship hovered silently above the planet's curving horizon the members of the intergalactic treasure hunting team, The Sapphires, put on their terra-gear and got ready to make the high-altitude jump down to the blue and white world below.

As she made ready the air-lock drop-door chamber, Ursula could not help thinking of the legend of the little wooden bird's fiery transformation as it made its decent. And for the first time, she turned to her crew before hitting the drop button and said with a hint of real caution, "Good luck out their, Sapphires!"

Then, she pushed the button.