Valley Run

He was making good time on his Sunday morning run, Gerald thought as he jogged along the wet pavement of the quiet country road.

It was a damp morning after the night rain which made for a pretty and peaceful jog in the light mists that hung low in the air amongst the trees of the woods that lines either side of the straight-running road.

Only a handful of vehicles had passed by so far, so he essentially had had the road to himself, which was one of the perks of living so far outside of town; quiet and private.

As he came down the side of a large dip in the road, a bunny hopped quickly across the lanes, diving down the grassy ditch before heading into the thick covering of trees to Gerald's right.

He passed by where the bunny had disappeared into the woods and looked down into the valley that led into a streaming brook at the basin. He slowed to see if he could spot the little bunny rabbit but it had already vanished in the camouflage of the foliage and shadows that filled the fairy-tale scene below.

Moving over to the narrow shoulder of the road, he peered down for a moment, but it only took that moment to lose his footing on the loose gravel and slip, sliding down the slick, wet grass of the hill, which gave no purchase to slow him down.

He kept sliding and rolling down the decline and into the dim light of the forest valley.

When he finally came to a stop he was laying on his back looking up at the canopy of pine and cedar trees that reached up and blotted the grey morning sky so that only slim cracks of light made it through to give the forest floor a diffused illuminance.

He sat up and brushed the clinging leaves and grass and twigs that had collected over his arms and legs on his chaotic trip down.

Wet and embarrassed, he surveyed the peaceful scene he had abruptly crashed into. The babbling stream to his left continued on its merry way, undisturbed by his arrival.

Birds chirped their songs high up on the tree branches and for a long moment Gerald just sat back and took in the serenity of the nature surrounding him; calming his breathing to match the soft breeze that moved through the leaves above.

Even though it had been a painful way to go, he was almost glad he had taken the fall; it had allowed him to discover this hidden little oasis he would not have found if...

Across the brook Gerald caught sight of a small figure standing on a tree stump looking directly at him.

It was what looked to be a traditional garden gnome one would find nestled in any number of backyard flowerbeds.

The pointed red capped little chap, who stood no taller than Gerald's knee, wore a grey beard down to its chest that framed the rolly polly features of their face. A blue short-sleeved shirt with brown suspendered trousers and little black leather boots completed the ensemble.

The two stared at one another in the middle of the forest tableau; Gerald with astonishment whilst the gnome's rosy cheeks plumped as they smiled quite friendly, they glistening black eyes shining happily.

Not wanting to make any sudden movements to scare the little creature off, Gerald slowly lifted his hand from where it was propping him up and waved in a neighbourly fashion. He tried to find his voice to say hello but before he could begin to speak, the gnome held up a stubby finger to their lips and silently shushed him.

They then pointed their finger up and around, motioning that perhaps they were not alone in these woods.

Gerald's eyes followed to where their little finger pointed to see if he could catch a glimpse at any other hidden creatures of the forest but none presented themselves, just the lone gnome standing before him on its well-worn stump.

Bringing his eyes back to the storybook character made manifest before him, Gerald saw the gnome then move its arm downwards slowly, until pointing their chubby digit towards their rear.

Cupping its ear with its other hand as if they wanted Gerald to listen harder. They stood in stark silence, while Gerald obediently strained to head whatever it was they wanted him to hear.

The serenity of the quiet sounds of nature was then shattered by the single loudest fart Gerald had ever heard.

Disgusted surprise plastered itself across Gerald's face as the rude gnome giggled at their own immature little joke. 

Before Gerald could say an admonishing word, with a wink and a coy bop of its finger along the side of their red little nose, the farting forest gnome twinkled out of existence before Gerald's very eyes.

Leaving only the musty stench of its gaseous blast.

 

Hero of Legend

Deep under the mountain a rumbling began; faint and nearly undetectable at first, yet it slowly began to build to a clamorous shaking that threatened the very foundations of the great mountain.

From somewhere deep inside the earth, a glowing light began to grow with the rumbling; grow and begin to speed its way up from the darkness of the deep recesses below.

Crumbling rocks burst and fell away as the glowing light sped up and onward through the innards of the mighty mountain as if they were simply clumps of dried dirt instead of the solid and ancient rocks they in fact were.

The ever-growing light flickered as it passed through the relenting rock; tunnelling its way straight up through the core of the mountain, towards the very apex of the massive natural monument.

The village at the base of the shaking mountain held its collective breath in anticipation of what seemed to be their dooms finally come at last; the inhabitants always fearing their end would come at the looming mountain's eruption some day. That day looked to be today.

The world appeared to be shaking apart as the mountain threatened about to burst apart, until finally, the blinding light did erupt up and out of the top of the snow-capped peak, obliterating it in a shower of boulders and debris.

Yet, only the shimmering light eschewed forth, and climbed into the bright, blue sky.

From down below, barely visible to the on-looking villagers, the light faded and a figure emerged; the figure of a person reaching up with their outstretched arm, in which, their hand grasped a glistening sword.

With their long hair flowing in the wind, the figure and sword held their position high above the mountain peak in the sky for an extended moment as the sun's light kissed the sword with a glint that seemed to produce a dinging sound before they flew off eastward in a blur.

"Wholly Shit!" Agmar exclaimed as he pointed skyward as the figure disappeared from the sight.

"Don't you swear at me!" Nailine scolded with annoyance at being interrupted in her questioning of her oaf-headed husband. "And try and distract me, Agmar! Did you and your idiot mates eat all my meat pies last night when you all came home stinking drunk from the public house?"

"But... the Hero of Legend has returned, just now!" Agmar pleaded. "Did you not see them burst forth from Mount Gironde?"

With a swat on his head, Nailine brought Agmar's attention back to her. "I don't care if the Hero of Legend's grandmum bellowed forth from the Bagnarg Bog!" She warned. "Did you eat my pies!?"

Agmar hung his head in shame.

"Yes, my love." He admitted sheepishly, holding his modest cap in his hands.

"Mmm hmm." Nailine nodded at the admission. "Well, now we'll have nothing for when my mother comes for her visit next week, will we? Don't look surprised, you know she was coming. Now, get going to the dark forest to gather up more of the spices I'll need to try and bake something with what little meat's left for her arrival dinner. And if you get captured by that dark wizard that lives in there, maybe your can call your Hero of Legend for help."

With that, she sent him off with another swat of her empty pie plate.

Witch Hazel

The witch of the wood lived a simple life in her modest hut of stone and thatched straw, and she was happy.

Her witching had never seemed like a job to her, she just enjoyed helping people so much she often felt guilty charging even the merger sum she did for her services.

Love potions, death potions, putting hexes on people's enemies, even the occasional mad ramblings to just intimidate someone bought her joy.

Villagers from the little towns bordering the big forest would make their way through the labyrinth-like woods to come ask for her witchy wares, and she would oblige them merrily.

On slow days, she would go out and find the poor retches that never found their way through the maze of gnarled old trees and loot their carcases for whatever offerings they had been planning to give to her anyway.

Yes, it was a good life being the witch of these here woods.

Sipping her tea, the witch sighed with satisfaction as she looked out the round window of her hut's kitchen.

The smile faded from her lips and a shadow crept over her face as she spotted a figure standing out amongst the trees just passed her cursed herbs garden.

It was a good life, except for this idiot.

Catching her eye in the window, the hooded figure started to wave excitedly and move to come into her yard.

Putting her tea cup down with a clatter, the witch dashed out of the back door to meet the grinning buffoon they could stomp all over her patch of lucky four-leaf clovers she had worked so hard to cultivate in this climate.

Alas, the simpleton trampled all through the delicate little patch of green before she could get to them.

The witch sagged with exasperation as the warlock dehooded himself while continuing to wave and stomp up to her, totally unaware of the destruction left in his wake.

"Hullo, Hazel!" he greeted her amiably. "I was hoping you'd be in today!"

Visibly, Hazel the witch rolled her eyes as the warlock's robes got caught on the barbed wire fencing that surrounded the more deadly genus of flowers in her garden.

"What do you want, Wilbur?" Hazel asked with supreme annoyance. "I am a very busy witch."

Wilbur struggled to pull himself free from the fencing just before a big Venus snapped at his head; unfortunately not taking it clean off his crooked shoulders.

"Oh, I've run into a bit of a problem with a spell you could say." Wilbur the warlock stammered as he reached Hazel where she stood in her irked stance.

"You could say you run into a lot of problems, Wilbur." Hazel replied bone dryly.

"Yes, well," Wilbur continued unfazed. "More of a situation with a Doubling spell, really. I was working on it for Farmer Thendorg in Fenrith over yonder, and well, I could really use a pitch of your Dissolving powder. You know the one you use for really big wart removals?"

Hazel's hand automatically went up to her chin before she stopped it with a nonchalant dismissive wave. Her skin was clear and smooth now, no need to doubt herself.

"Yes, I know of my own powders and potions, Wilbur." She snapped. "What of it? What could you possibly have to trade that I would want?"

Grinning his stupid, goofy grin, Wilbur started to root around in his robes.

"I am NOT interested in any of that!" Hazel protested abhorrently while trying to avert her eyes.

Unaware of her disgust, Wilbur pulled out a handful of little, orange coloured toadstool stumps.

"Well, I just so happened to come across a patch of these beauties." Wilbur offered proudly. "I might not have the skill to distil these Halorooms for their potent properties, but a witch of your prowess would certainly find them valuable."

Through her splayed fingers, Hazel peeked at the mushrooms Wilbur held out to her and a greedy spark ignited in her green eyes.

"Well perhaps." Hazel tried to sound mildly interested with maximum restraint. Those little knobs could last her years and keep her pot overflowing with coins from the women and men who coveted their 'uplifting' qualities.

"I only need a cupful." Wilbur said earnestly. The fool had no idea how valuable those mushrooms were. "Just enough to make a batch of Vanishing potion." He explained.

Playing it ever so cool, Hazel took her time mulling the trade over, instead of instantly snatching the orange stumps up greedily from his clammy hands.

"I suppose I could spare some." She said thoughtfully. "But only, a half a cup. I'm running low myself." She quickly added.

Wilbur's grin somehow widened further to show even more crooked and snaggled teeth. He's probably aimed high, knowing he'd only need a pitch of the stuff anyway and thought him self pretty shrewd, she thought.

"Bless you, Hazel!" he blurted as he dumped the mushrooms clumsily into her hands so forcefully she had to stumble back as to not have him right on top of her.

"Okay, okay." She told him as she pushed him back. "You just stand here while I go get the powder. There's hex traps all over the yard so I mean it: stay put!"

Wilbur stood at attention dutifully as Hazel bustled back into her hut, muttering giddily to herself about how the idiot warlock was finally proving useful.

After a few moments she came back out to him carrying a little burlap satchel daintily between her finger and thumb.

"Here you go..." She tried to put as much sugar into her voice as possible in his presence,"...darling." she shuddered with self-loathing. "Now, don't you drop it, because it's liable to crate a hole in the ground so deep you'd never stop falling." She could only hope.

"Thank you so much, Hazel!" Wilbur said with so much gratitude Hazel almost felt bad filching him. Almost.

"Now just go straight back the way you came." She instructed him faux-sweetly. "You don't want to step on one of my hexes!"

Wilbur stumbled around and goose-stepped back over the patch of clovers without noticing again as Hazel held her false smile with a wave.

"Oh, thank you again!" Wilbur burst as he waved back while walking out through the slightly over-grown path. "Don't worry, I'll be carefu..."

With a sudden poof, the warlock disappeared in a puff of purplish smoke.

Hazel gasped in surprise as the satchel of Dissolving powder fell freely through the smoky air towards the ground, only to be caught by a quick acting hand.

Hazel balked at the sight of a second Wilbur the warlock as he caught the satchel and waved stupidly at her.

"Doubling spell problem!" He called to her with a wink. "Thanks again!"

The warlock turned and rambled into the trees where Hazel now saw that there were a dozen or so Wilburs waiting.

They all waved and grinned like the same moron that had just gotten hexed into the Neither Realms.

Hazel shook her head in disgust and stopped waving abruptly.

"Idiots."

Power Pyramid

Waking up outside of the Sun Temple just before the dawn was Lenethal's favourite part of the day.

The long day ahead spent toiling in the quarry, loading carts with stones and pushing them up to the top of the rough incline to dump them over the edge of the great chasm and then back down again for another load, was all made bearable by watching with anticipation as the sun rose over the apex of the Temple's peaked roof.

The ancient architects that had designed the Temple had masterfully planned out how the building's sloped walls would align perfectly with the arc of the sun's ascent into the morning sky.

So as the golden light slowly crept up the backside of the Temple, the smooth onyx stones of which it was constructed would seem to radiate from within.

From his spot in the dusty field, front and center of the Temple, Lenethal could take in the full effect of the pitch black pyramid structure as the golden glow shone out from behind, causing the silhouetted horizon and Temple to seem as one; organically intertwined as if the Temple itself were a natural part of the landscape.

Just as the sun almost reached the pinnacle of the pyramid's pointed peak, the top of the Temple would open with a horizontal slice of light and lift off from the base; letting the sun shine directly through like an all seeing eye.

This moment Lenethal would await the most each day, for as the sun's rays were caught by the Temple's open oculus, they were amplified and a beam of pure light would blast out and down to the field full of humble workers below; engulfing one of them that had come to be chosen.

Lenethal watched, crestfallen, as the older man who had been only a few rows away from him, was blasted into oblivion by the Sun Temple's beam of light.

Once the light had faded and there was only a blackened mark in the hard sand where the man had stood, the Sun Temple's peaked top closed once more and the round, red sun rose peacefully into the sky above, the crowds of workers beginning to shuffle off, making ready for the day's hard tasks.

And Lenethal sighed as usual and started to slump off to his awaiting quarry cart.

Oh well, he thought with a sniffle, perhaps tomorrow I will be one of the lucky ones.

Cloud WIzard

Up through the clouds I rose; looking down passed my feet the hundreds of meters below to where I had, until a few moments ago, been standing on the sidewalk waiting to cross the street.

My stomach turned as I continued to ascend into the cold, crisp air where the wet wisps of clouds began to gather around me, obscuring the world far below.

Through my confusion I could hear a distant voice, booming yet froggy, seemingly uttering an incantation in a kind of a singsong cadence.

I drifted dreamily through the misty clouds, closer to the voice, spouting in unfamiliar languages as I drew nearer.

Breaking thorough the thick white cover, I came into an opening within the clouds, like a huge pocket hidden inside, and in the middle of the spherical area stood a bearded old wizard, wearing his tall wizard's hat and long wizard's robes.

The wizard waved his wooden wizard's staff back and forth as he continued his enchantment and I floated over to where he stood.

Landing tentatively upon the surprisingly springy cloud floor, I steadied myself as the dizziness from the height wore off unnaturally quickly.

The wizard went silent and regarded me; taking in my regular street clothes with his wizened-eyed gaze.

After an awkward moment of staring in silence I ventured a greeting.

"Hello..." I began.

"I have brought you here!" the wizard's voice boomed loudly and thunder rumbled through the clouds.

"Ahem," he adjusted his voice before continuing, seemingly as surprised at his volume as I was.

"I have brought you here to aid me in a task, mortal." He stated in his quieter, yet still deep, froggy voice.

"Okay, but..." I began again before the wizard cut me off, again.

"For many ages I have been exiled to this realm of clouds," he explained, "by my nemesis, the vile dark wizard, Hemel!"

He spat with rage as he said the name of his enemy; his eyes now filled with wild anger.

"The miscreant became jealous of the fact that I had gained the affections of a fair and powerful witch, and so he flung me here to the far reaches of the realm of winds and sky with an underhanded spell."

I listened to his tale with half interest as I was also concerned with not sinking into the clouds so I did not catch all of the sorted details of the wizard affair, until he got to the point of levitating me up here.

"And so, it is to you I ask for aid." The wizard addressed me directly again. "For I need a mortal's help in collecting the final item necessary to counter the dubious spell and allow me to return down to the surface below."

"Will you help me, my mortal friend? Will you be my champion and quest to retrieve what I need to complete my spell?"

The wizard's voice was regal and commanding, yet there was a hint of a desperate plea within, and I felt compelled to help the old fella out, despite being magically whisked up into the clouds by him, without my consent.

"Yeah, sure," I answered. "What do you need?"

The old wizard practically did a jig right then and there as he took hold of my shoulders and laughed gleefully.

"Oh, ho!" He exclaimed with a mirthful smile. "Thank you, my friend! Thank you!"

He spun around in kind of manic pacing and began to go through the planned spell excitedly, most of which was a mumbled mess in my ears.

"I have almost everything I need," he finished. "Yet, the last ingredient is most difficult, for I cannot simply harvest or cultivate it from up here on high. It maybe difficult to find, for in my time it was only found in the remote parts of an unexplored land, full with dangerous beasts and harsh landscapes."

I began to regret agreeing to help out so quickly as he listed all of the hazards that might be involved in retrieving this mysterious ingredient, until finally he said what the ingredient was and I balked in surprise.

"Wait," I interrupted his rambling explanations. "Do you just mean that sap they use for making chewing gum?"

The old wizard looked at me incredulously. "You know of the ancient Sapodilla tree?"

"Yeah, that's it!" I replied excitedly as the recollection of the name I had learned in high school science class. "They make gum with it. Here you go!"

I reached into my pants pocket and pulled out my packet of gum and handed it to the wizard.

"It's a little flattened because I was sitting on it, but will it do?"

The wizard took the slightly smashed pack of gum and read the ingredients on the back to himself.

"You mean," he started, a little dumbfounded. "You just carry around these little sticks made with the rare sap to chew on all day?"

"I don't know how rare it is, it might be synthetic nowadays, but yup. Is that it?" I asked helpfully.

"Y... yes, that's all..." He sounded deflated after his triumphant excitement of only a few moments ago.

"Alrighty, so can I go back down now?" I asked. "I was on my way to the movies and I should be able to still make it if you could zip me back down."

Still staring with astonishment at the pack of gum, the wizard didn't even look up as he waved his hand in my direction.

"Yes, of course, thank you again." He said distractedly as I was lifted once more into the air and began to descend back down through the clouds.

"Oh, wait!" I shouted to the shrinking form of the wizard as I was flung down from the cloud chamber. "Could you make me a magic potion!?"

My voice was lost in the rushing air as I zoomed back down to the Earth below.

Shoot, I thought to myself. I should have asked for it before giving him the gum. Oh well.

Night Fog

The creeping mists of the fog approached the train platform where he stood beside the circle of light flooding down from the lamppost, its grey metal pole reaching up into the night air.

Looking both directions away from the station he could see the empty train tracks stretch out into the darkness of the eerie, dense night fog.

Even though the winter night should have been cold and dry, the air around him was unusually warm and full of moisture, making him uncomfortably sweaty in his heavy parka.

The train was late, it had been a long day, and he was tired so the darkness and fog seemed to be playing tricks on his mind; they felt alive to him: a leviathan closing in on where he stood, threatening to envelop him into oblivion.

He knew this wasn't true; that he was letting his imagination get the better of him, but still, he moved fully into the sickly amber lamplight.

The light would keep him safe; he just needed to stay within the light.

But that fog still looked ominous; it continued to roll in, seeming to devour the train platform as it crept closer.

Soon there was nothing visible outside the scope of the lamppost's radiant circle of light.

Like in the mists of an intangible dreamscape, he was trapped by the dark grey mists that hemmed in around him.

There was a definite lumbering shape in the dense fog now, rumbling towards him like a nightmare creature come to snatch him away.

As the rumbling increased he began to yell out; scream out in unison with the deafening noise bearing down on him.

Rushing passed him, almost knocking him off balance with its gust of wind, the late night train pulled into the station, causing the misty fog to disperse in curling tendrils

As he realized it was just the train arriving, his screaming died away in the night air as the engine came to its squeaking stop and the doors slid open quietly.

To his side he saw the woman who had been standing on the platform with him the entire time and he motioned for her to step onto the train car first.

She gave him a worried look and opted to hop onto the adjacent car.

With a sigh he got on the train himself and slumped down into one of the empty seats.

It had been a very long day and he was very tired.

Brad's Bad Day

What a terrible day, Brad thought as he finally reached the sanctuary of home after the prolonged journey from school and dropped his packsack beside his bed; flopping himself face down onto the soft pillows with a grunt.

It had started off well; he went through the day's events in his head: got a ride from Jerry so he didn't have to take the stupid bus, met up with Cheryl for a little pre-class 'face-time', but then in English class it had all gone to shit.

He got a D on his essay, even though he'd paid good money for 'Stankly' to write it for him. Then in science class, Raymond couldn't get their diluting experiment to work so they BOTH failed the assignment. He'd have to have a talk with those two geeks for slacking on HIS work.

At lunch, as he was telling the gang about the hilarious joke he'd pulled on the wheezy kid a few weeks ago on the stairs, Brad had choked on his water and some had come out of his nose in a spray and all his friends had laughed at him, even Cheryl!

After that he had been in a real bad mood, so when he had gone to his locker to put away his books for the day he'd kept messing up his combination, got angry and reefed on the door which had popped open with a sudden gust, causing all his pilled up papers and text books to come falling out onto the floor.

It had taken him forever to jam it all back in, so he was running late went going for the bus home, and as he sprinted to catch it he'd tripped on nothing at all and twisted his ankle, missing the bus as well. So he had had to wait and take the late bus with all the stinky creeps from the badminton team.

It was like his day was cursed.

Oh well, he perked up, at least it was done and he could play some video games before dinner.

Turning on the TV and powering up the consol, he sat on the end of the bed to play, but there was a glare on the screen and he couldn't see anything.

With an annoyed sign, Brad got up gingerly on his tender ankle to pull down the window shade.

At the bottom of his pull, he felt a sharp stab on the back of his hand as he caught it on a loose nail poking up from the window sill and gave a shout in pain, letting the blind slip out of his hand as it snapped back up to the top of the window with a loud bang.

The force of the retracting blind knocked the roll from its cradle and it flew up to hit the ceiling fan as its blades rotated swiftly around.

Flinging off the fan blades, the blind roll whipped into Brad's shelf filled with his judo trophies and flung them up into the air like a catapult.

Some smashed down onto his desk, cracking his laptop screen, while a few others crashed into his other shelf holding his collection of model WWII tanks, obliterating them all into shards.

But the heaviest one, he'd won first place in a tournament by choking out Warren Zelman, came flying, base down, onto his head as he watched dumbfounded.

Before he blacked out and crumpled to the ground, Brad's body turned toward the window, and in a dopey daze, he could see across the street; was that the wheezy kid wearing his dumb nerd glassed, just standing there, staring up at his window?

Out on the sidewalk across from Brad Gulfort's house, Simon looked up as he watched the chaotic events unfold through Brad's bedroom window.

As Brad went to his knees and then slumped out of sight, Simon smirked to himself and thought back to a few weeks early when the idiot had tripped him going up the stairs to their first period English class.

Everyone had laughed at Brad's hilarious 'joke', but the fall had caused Simon's glasses to drop off and break on the hallway floor.

So he had had to order a new pair; a very unique model off an occult site he had found on the internet, and they had finally come in yesterday.

He had worn them to try them out at school today, where he had first seen Brad in their first and second period classes together, then at lunch in the cafeteria with his blockheaded friends.

After school he'd passed Brad again in the hallway as he was struggling with his locker; then watched happily from his seat on the departing bus as his tormentor tripped on the sidewalk outside.

Simon took off his glasses and gave them a polish with the special cloth they had come with. Yes, they had been worth paying extra to get his prescription filled in a rush.

They worked just as advertise; these, Hex-ray Specs.

The Ballad of the Wolfman

Under the clear night skies,

The loneliest of souls does roam.

Lashing out at others; he does terrorize.

Yet, his only wish, a return to his lunar home.

Ripped away from his love so suddenly,

Like a beautiful blossom, stamped out too soon,

When a rogue meteor hit so randomly,

Casting him far down, from his loving Moon.

(Chorus)

This is the Ballad of the Wolfman,

A please to cut him some slack if you would, man.

Can't you see his heartbreaking plight?

The reason he howls throughout the night.

Aaaooo! Aaaooo! *Whispered* Aaaooo.

Now a prisoner of the cruel planet Earth,

Killing and maiming; his rage he seeks to quell,

Bathing in the faint full-moonlight, brings his only mirth.

Only in the mornings, he remembers his living hell.

(Chorus)

This is the Ballad of the Wolfman,

A please to cut him some slack if you would, man.

Can't you see his heartbreaking plight?

The reason he howls throughout the night.

Aaaooo! Aaaooo! *Whispered* Aaaooo.

(Reprise)

Castle Alverone

Can you see it? High up above; barely visible, but it is up there, that tiny speck that crosses the moon when it shines brightly on cool, clear nights.

Make no mistake, though, it's still there even behind the cover of clouds; there in the blinding light of day. It's always there, making its journey around us as we sit down here on the ground; through the vacuum of space, shining like a beacon with the reflected light of the stars themselves.

Orbiting the planet; a lone sentinel from a time long gone: The Silver Castle of Mount Alverone.

You doubt that it's true? There couldn't possibly be a castle made of silver rotating around above us in space, you say? How did it get there? Why is it up there; might be questions that come to mind.

Good questions to ask indeed, but perhaps you might mull over instead: who lives up there still, in such an unlikely of places? And what could have caused them to leave this Earth behind?

There have been many theories throughout the years; the greatest minds in history trying to answer the problem in vain.

Perhaps the lord or lady who dwells within ran a foul of a powerful dark warlock who cast a spell over the castle, causing it to float up like a balloon until it left the atmosphere, got caught up in the perpetual gravitational pull of the planet's orbit and is now forever stuck spinning in tandem with Earth's daily trip around the sun.

Or maybe it was an early scientist that created the world's first castle-shaped rocket, but once it blasted foolishly off the Earth's surface with powerful fireworks; it only had enough gumption to get stuck up there in its unending ellipse.

Another possibility altogether could be that an angry and bitter old wizard became fed up with the problems of the world and its people and build a magic castle to leave the planet behind; floating peacefully out in space, away from everyone.

Many a brilliant mind have gone mad before their time with obsession at solving the riddle, but no one has got it just right.

How would I know, you ask? How would a doddering old man in a shabby old suit, sitting here alone on a park bench know what the smartest of people throughout history have all wrong?

Well, let me answer that with a bit of advice for you; free of charge:

If you ever set out to build a castle made of material so light you could move from place to place, in order to visit the many lands your rule over, simply by picking it up with your one hand: make sure you tether it to your wrist with a damned string!

And make doubly sure that you do so if your lady wife asks you to go get some fresh milk from the farmer down the way, otherwise there will be hell to pay, whenever you figure out how to get the blasted castle back down again.

Bubble Bunny

A bubble appeared suddenly amid the high-reaching trees of the wood with a slight popping sound as it came into existence.

Floating a spans-width above the forest floor, the sphere shimmered as the beams of sunlight breaking though the leafy canopy above reflected off of its clear surface.

Inside, a small, white-furred creature slept soundly, curled up in the bubble's curved bottom. Several curious song birds perched on the tree branches above chirped inquisitively at the mysteriously floating bubble as the soft spring breeze blew through the leaves, adding to the serenity of the peaceful wooded scene.

Slowly, the bubble began to lower until its fragile exterior touched the pine needles and other natural debris on the ground and burst out of existence with a resounding pop, scattering the spectating birds and leaving the furry creature behind.

The jolt of pop startled the little creature awake and it looked, wide-eyed, around its new surroundings.

Its long, pointed ears rotated independently as they searched for origins of all the strange new sounds it was hearing as it took in everything it was seeing with its big, icy blue eyes.

Sitting up on its hunches, the creature sniffed the air with its heart-shaped nose that wrinkled at all the foreign scents as its front paws rubbed and patted the soft white fur on its chest and belly.

One scent in particular drew its nose to the right and it spotted a bushel of bright, plump blueberries in amongst the thicket of smaller trees and it bounded excitedly over to the heavenly smell of the berries.

Having just woken up from its slumber, the curious little creature was famished, but since this place was still strange and new, it was still cautious no matter how hungry it was. Thus, it leaned in to where a bunch of the big berries grew heavy on a branch and gingerly tasted one with just the tip of its tiny pink tongue.

There was no initial hint of anything poisonous or toxic, only the still overpowering scent of their wonderful fragrance, so it took the tiniest of nibbles with its petite yet surprisingly sharp front teeth.

The berry's juice burst out in a squirt, and as the exquisite taste coated the creature's tongue, its already huge eyes grew larger with the unexpected pleasure and it immediately started stuffing the berries into its mouth in pawfuls at a time.

As it gorged itself on its newly found favourite food, the creature was unaware of the visitor that approached the little copse from behind.

A small twig snapped and the white-furred creature's acute hearing picked it up even over its own gluttonous eating sounds and it spun around to see a little brown-furred field mouse standing stalk-still, starting at the most beautiful creature the mouse had ever seen.

The creature froze but then realized that its mouth was still full with blueberry mush, so it swallowed and tried to clean off its blue stained face fur as best it could in a non-chalont manner, as the pretty dark-eyed mouse continued to stare at it.

The white-furred create looked down to see that it still had several blueberries in its paws, and so it hopped softly over to the still staring mouse and slowly offered them some.

Still in a daze, the little field mouse reached out for the offered fruit dreamily; gazing hypnotically into the stranger's gorgeously blue eyes as they brought the fruit to their tiny mouth and bit into the plump berry.

The two sat and ate their berries in silence as they stared at one another, the soft forest sounds around them fading into the background of their shared moment.

Once they were finished eating the berries, the white-furred creature reached its paw down to gently brush a bit of blueberry skin off the mouse's long whiskers, while the mouse in turn noticed a bit of berry juice on the corner of the stranger's mouth and tried to reach up to wipe it away.

Unfortunately, its delicate little paws were too short so, in frustration, the little mouse craned its head up and licked the juice off gingerly with its petite tongue.

The white-furred creature's bright blue eyes bulged out with surprise and the little mouse shied away in embarrassment, but before they could move away, the creature bent down and they touched noses.

After a moment that seemed to last the whole morning long, the field mouse pulled away and turned to hop a few steps away, then turned back coyly, inviting the strange new creature to follow.

With an excited jump, the white-furred creature bounded after the mouse and the two disappeared into the thick undergrowth of the forest floor, leaving the little open glen to return to its serenity as the tree branches creaked peacefully in the breeze.

Through the small green-screened monitor the forest scene did indeed look peaceful as the scientists looked on with envy.

"Well, now we know we can send one of the little buggers through the dimensional bubble." The broad-shouldered scientist in the middle proclaimed as he straightened from leaning over the control panel's monitor. "We just have to get all of these suckers into the gateway somehow."

His two colleagues looked from the inter-dimensional monitor, passed the silver hexagonal archway of the trans-dimensional gateway, to the rest of the lab that was overrun with hundreds of the white-furred creatures.

There were white rabbits in every nook and cranny of the lab; on, under, and in all of the expensive and delicate equipment, paying no attention to the three frazzled looking scientists as the bunnies procreated unabated and defecated on everything in sight.

"Then we'll have to get working on an industrial strength disinfectant." The bespectacled scientist on the left said with a shiver. "Those other dimensions are going to be so mad."

Gnorman

Once there was a gnome named Gnorman who lived near the edge of the woods that bordered the suburb, which in turn bordered the big, sprawling city to the south.

But Gnorman had never ventured that far away from his house; hidden within the exposed roots of an old oak tree, just a little ways in from where the backyards of the well-kept neighbourhoods touched the forest's edge.

He was content with staying in the woods of his ancestral home and did not feel the draw to the big city like so many of the other gnomes his age; roughly 108 years old in human years, yet still just a youngling in gnome society.

While others his age wanted to move to the big human city to fill one of the many positions there, Gnorman felt he had a duty to stay and take up his father's district; covering the subdivision that had been their family's responsibility for many hundreds of years, possibly since the very beginning of humans settling in the land so long ago.

Each day Gnorman would wake up before the sun rose, have a good breakfast of mushrooms and moss porridge and then head out to along the twisting and winding path to the old fishing pond that lay safely hidden away in the deep woods.

Setting up his rods, nets, baskets he would sit on the soft green grass that surrounded the glimmering waters of the pond as the morning sunlight filtered down in beams through the canopy of trees and cast his line in.

Soon he would start to drift off to sleep to the sounds of the birds chirping in the distance and the soft breeze blowing through the branches of the trees; until a bite would come on his line and startle him to alertness as he gripped his rod and began reeling in his catch.

It would not take long once the first bite was on the line before his baskets were full and he was at his limit for the day and it was time for him to head home with the afternoon sun hanging high in the sky above.

Once back in his cozy little tree home, Gnorman would prepare all of that day's catch for that night's outing and after a tasty lunch, lay down for a nap before heading out again once the sun set and darkness blanketed the night sky.

Heading out under the cover of night, Gnorman headed out toward the houses of the suburb, lit by the street lights lining the roads in the front, yet the darkened back yards still made it easy for the little gnome to approach unseen with his knapsack full upon his back.

Slipping in to each house by the little nooks and crannies that the humans failed to pay attention to, he would make his way to the bedrooms of the sleeping children, dig into his sack and sprinkle the good dreams he had brought to put into their slumbering minds.

It filled him with a great sense of pride to know that he was tasked with bringing all the children of this subdivision their happiest of childhood dreams from the magical pond of wishes back in the forest.

He smiled as a child he had just sprinkled a dream of flying through space in a cartoon rocket ship on grinned in their sleep, but then a movement in the corner made him frown and stare into the shadows there.

From the dark of the corner, two red glowing eyes appeared and were joined by a crooked, toothy grin. Gnorman gave a little growl as a dark gnome stepped out of the shadows with its own sack full on its back.

Stalking around the room, the two little gnomes circled each other as Gnorman tried to keep the dark gnome away from the still sleeping child.

"You get out of here, Ggordon!" Gnorman hissed in a whisper. "I've already given the child their dream for the night; they don't need you mucking it up with your rotten ones. Now get!"

Gnorman lunged at Ggordon but the other gnome did not flinch, only smiled mischievously and tried to edge his way closer to the child's bed; always keeping his eyes on Gnorman.

"I've just as much right to do my job as you do." Ggordon croaked hoarsely. "Gotta have some bad dreams too, ya know." He said as he tried to jump up on the end of the bed, but Gnorman pulled him down.

"Not your brand of bad dreams." Gnorman whispered loudly as he dragged Ggordon back down and pushed him towards the window. "I know you've been putting a little extra darkness in those dreams of yours, kids ain't supposed to be havin' those kinda nightmares yet."

With a sweep of his leg, Gnorman kicked Ggordon in the rear as the dark gnome growled and rounded back to tackle him.

The two pint-sized gnomes rolled around on the floor of the moonlit room, gnashing and clawing at each other trying to get the upper hand, until they hit into one of the play table chairs and knocked it over with a thud.

Both gnomes froze and looked over to where the child lay in their bed and saw their eyes fluttering open; woken from the noise of their scuffle.

Forgetting their scrap, the two gnomes scrambled for the windows on the opposite walls from each other, leading out to the east and west sides of the house.

Clambering up to the sill of the west window, Gnorman looked over to see Ggordon was breathing heavily as he stared over at him from the east window, still sneering bitterly.

Taking a last look at the child, he saw that they were looking from him to Ggordon with sleepy disbelief, before the two gnomes slipped out of the house and into the night.

As the child sat up in bed, they tried to decide whether the little bearded men they had seen on the windows had been real or jus part of their dream. In the end, they figured it was just part of the dream and tried to fall back asleep so they could get back to the awesome space adventure dream they had been having.

From now on, Gnorman thought as he headed back home before the dawn's light broke over the horizon; he was going to have to keep an eye out for that jerk, Ggordon and his sack full of bad dreams.

The Maze

The three of them ran down the corridor as the medieval-looking walls closed in on them further and further.

Trace, Chad, and Melody gradually moved from a three-abreast to a single-file formation, desperately trying to make it to the opening at the end of the long, ever-narrowing passageway before being crushed to death.

Ahead of him, Chad watched Trace as she reached the opening and disappeared around its edge moments before he made it himself and leaped around the corner of the opening.

Once around, he found Trace stopped dead in her tracks in front of another opening and barely had time to stop before ramming into her.

From behind he heard Melody's guttural shout as she leapt out of the opening just as the walls slammed unforgivingly together.

Not slowing, she kept right on running passed him and Trace, but snapping out of her gaze, Trace snatched Melody's arm just before she careened straight off the edge of a deep chasm that led into darkness below.

"Whoa, there!" Trace shouted as she held onto the still yelling Melody and pushed her back against the pockmarked stone of the wall that connected to the ledge they stood on; no wider than a few paces.

"Oh, shit!" Melody exclaimed as she realized what was in front of her and her eyes bulged at the seemingly bottomless void they now were faced with. "What's with this place!? I just want to get the hell outta here!"

Trace gripped the panicking Melody by the shoulder and tried to calm her.

"It's okay. We're okay." Trace tried to placate her. "We'll just figure this one out like the rest and we'll be on our way out. Just calm down and take a breather."

Chad strained his eyes to look across the expanse and could see another ledge and opening on the far side. Tracking the opposite side to the left and right, he could see no way across.

"I don't know." He stated in his unperturbed voice. "I can't see any way to get to that other side, and..." Squinting to focus further on the far side, he continued, "...I think, Trace, do you see what I see over there?"

Trace looked from Melody to follow Chad's outstretched arm to where his finger pointed across the wide gorge. To the other side where she could just make out three figures standing on the ledge opposite them. One of them pointing back to where they stood.

"Oh no." Trace said in a downtrodden voice.

"What?" Melody asked frantically as she looked across at what the other two were staring at.

"Great." She exclaimed once she finally saw the others staring back, "a giant mirror wall! So there's probably nothing over there at all to even get to; a trick to make us try and jump or something and just fall forever into this bottomless pit!"

Her voice echoed across the expanse as she slid down the wall to a crouch, holding her head in her hands as she began to rock back and forth.

Chad continued to watch their far reflections as Trace tried to comfort Melody again.

"It's okay, Melody." Trace soothed, "we'll figure something out, maybe we'll just go along the ledge here until we find another opening. What do you think, Chad?"

Before he could respond, Melody laughed derisively.

"Ha! Chad is probably loving all of this!" She huffed accusingly. "An endless, mysterious, and ancient maze, full of deadly traps, all hidden below a legitimately haunted house that he goaded us into exploring! He's probably having the time of his life!"

Starting to laugh hysterically, Melody pushed Trace's arms away and continued to rock on her heels.

"Hey!" Chad's booming shout jolted both women's attention to their usually mild-mannered and good humoured friend.

"Stan is dead!" He cried out. "We evoked the wrath of the spirit of the evil necromancer that built that house up there, when YOU red aloud the inscription on that ebony orb I might add, and have been wondering this ghost-riddled maze for who knows how long. If we don't get killed by the maze's puzzles, or a ghost of one of that guy's victims, we'll probably starve to death because I haven't found anything to eat down here, have you?!"

Calming a little, Chad shivered and continued in his regular voice as the other two stared in shock.

"So, no, Melody," he said with a sigh. "I am not loving it down here."

The three stood in silence for sometime before Chad stomped at a loose stone with his foot.

"Sorry." He said mildly. "I'm hungry and tired and scared. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. I just want to get out of here too..."

He stopped as he kicked the loose stone over the edge of the ledge, and instead of falling down into the void of the pit, it seemed to just roll over the ledge and continue on.

"What a second." He said as he peered over the edge.

Trace and Melody looked at each other with mutual puzzlement and then to Chad just as he was stepping over the edge.

"Chad, no!" Trace shouted as she moved to grab him, but it was too late, he had disappeared over the ledge.

She scrambled over to where he had stood and reared back with surprise as his head popped back into view from beyond the darkness.

"It's corner, not a ledge!" Chad told them with glee. "Just step around and the ground is beneath you! Come on, there's an opening just down there!"

He pointed off to a direction hidden by the ledge.

Looking back at the flabbergasted Melody, Trace was flummoxed herself.

"I think we'll be out of here in no time!" Chad reassured in a chipper voice as he stood at an impossible angle.

Later, after escaping the soul survivor of the necromancer's accursed maze, though he would never admit it to anyone aloud, Chad was indeed having a really good time!

Wizard Fight!

Sparks and flames spewed up form beyond the hills at the eastern edge of the village.

The sky boomed and crackled with electricity as storm clouds rolled unnaturally in from the north and south, converging in the skies above the ancient battle grounds that had not been used in more than a century. Not since the last of the old wars had been fought.

Johann, the butcher's apprentice looked up from the carcass of the meanderbeast he was carving up to see the streaks of lightning shoot up from over the horizon; up from the grounds below, not down from the clouds above.

He wiped his bloodied hands upon his apron and ventured into the village's main street where his master's shop was prominently located.

From behind he heard the stomping of feet fast approaching as he looked toward the old battle grounds.

Turning just in time to jump back out of the way of the rushing crowds of villagers, running like mad toward the east end of the village; towards the commotions erupting there.

Johann caught sight of his friend Verner and yelled to him through the throng of people stampeding passed.

"Verner! What is all this about!?" He shouted as his friend approached.

Not slowing, Verner only waved for Johann to join them, shouting as he pointed east excitedly, "It's a battle!"

Not needing any more of an explanation, Johann threw off his apron and dashed to catch up with his friend as the growing crowd sped toward where columns of fire and smoke gushed up from behind the hills that hid the old wizard battle arena.

Clambering up the west slope of the grassy mound, the crowd spread out and came to a halt to stand in a line at the top of the hill, watching in awe at what was happening below.

Two cloaked figures stood at either end of the large field that was surrounded by the oval shape of the hill that been build up around it to create the natural arena in days long ago.

Smouldering craters and charred blast marks marred the field between the two long-bearded wizards as they both breathed heavily from the exertion of the many attacks they had already reined upon one another.

As the crowd gathered all along the top of the border hill, the wizards never took their eyes off one another, each lanky man of middling years squinting warily at their opponent, strategizing their next spell.

The wizard in his grey cloak, covered in dirt and soot, wiggled his fingers in readiness as the black cloaked wizard flex his fingers open and close, neither one blinking or making any other move to indicate what they might do next.

Suddenly, the wizard in black flung his arms forward as his hands glowed orange and shot forth a giant ball of flame that sped toward the wizard in grey. At the same moment, the grey shot a hand to the sky and bolts of lightning sparked from his finger tips, not towards his opponent, but to the clouds above.

Moving in a blink of an eye, the lightning bounced off the dark clouds and rebounded down to where the wizard in black stood. Before the man could react, hitting him directly in the chest.

Meanwhile, the grey cloaked wizard was able to safely jump out of the way of the ball of flame that flew passed him and exploded into the side of the far hill wall, knocking the spectators that stood watching flying in every direction.

As the smoke cleared from each of the explosions, the grey wizard could be seen hovering above the scorched field over to where his fallen rival lay prone, struggling to breath.

Glowing green orbs appeared in the approaching wizard's hands as he came to a landing a few paces from the black-clad wizard, who lifted a shaky arm in an effort to shield himself ineffectually.

Raising his hands to deal the final blow, the grey wizard looked down upon his fallen foe with contempt as the crowd watched with bated breath.

With his arm still weakly outstretched, the black wizard muttered an incantation barely above a whisper, but with a subtle circular motion of his badly burnt hand, a magical gate way opened in the space directly behind the grey and from out of it pour forth a horde of bearded wizards; all of them wearing the same long black robes as the one laying beaten on the battle field.

Hundreds of them streamed out of the portal and soon the grey wizard was surrounded by identical black cloaked wizards; hurriedly he created a domed shielding around himself.

Once the green glowing shield was in place, he quickly did a similar motion with his hand as his opponent, only directed at the air above where the black wizard lay.

From out of his portal, fell an army of his own duplicates, landing and spreading out to surround the wild-eyed black wizards.

For a moment both sides stood ready to attack at the slightest moment of the others.

Finally making it back up to his feet, the injured stood, his shoulders heaving as he seemed to be building his strength up by sheer will. Then, with a wild, unhinged scream, he cried, "Wizard Fight!"

Both the wizards and the crowd yelled and howled, and the real battle began.

https://youtu.be/jBOGaIy87Og

Glitch

She runs desperately down the rain-soaked street; hover cars zooming passed in the dimming light of evening.

The magnetic field beneath each passing car pushes the water that covers the road with its force and causes waves of splashing water to further soak her as she continues running through the chilly autumn rain.

Yet the wet cold of the rain water being dowsed upon her seems not to faze her in her loping search among the rows of identical-looking, compact apartment building units that line the narrow streets; jumbled jigsaw blocks stacked upon each other in order to maximize the ever depleting space in the downtown city core.

All she can think of is the next mind-numbing stab of pain that is undoubtedly coming to pierce her brain like an icy blade in the front of her forehead. The cause of which, she runs in desperation to get to the source of.

As if merely anticipating the coming pain could manifest it, a shooting jolt of white heat sears through her brain and she staggers, almost falling to her knees as she cradles her head in order to balance herself against the wave of dizzying pain that has overcome her.

With a guttural grunt of pain, she steadies herself as the pain subsides again and she looks slowly up at the apartment unit looming in front of her. This must be where it was emanating from, though in her state of mind, she's not quite sure.

Lurching forward, she pushes her way passed an exiting resident of the building through the security entrance and makes her way to the lifts, patting across the concrete floor in her soaking and bare feet.

Reaching the lift door, she slaps the call button as another lightning bolt of pain shocks her mind and this time she does fall to her knees, clutching her head, and moaning in agony.

They were getting more intense, which could only mean she was in the right place. All she needed to do was find the right apartment unit; as long as her brain didn't scramble itself beforehand.

The lift bell dinged its arrival and she got to her feet to stumble in and stab at the fifth floor button. A guess at this point, but it felt like the right one.

Once the lift opened onto the fifth floor, she shambled out into the hallway and used the featureless concrete walls to guide herself along the corridor of numbered doors that no doubt led into tiny, cramped apartment units. In one of which, lived the person she was after.

A high pitched ringing started to grow in her ears as she made her way along the hallway until it was deafening with a pain that filled her entire mind with red, blotching colour.

With a heave, she slammed her shoulder against a door that had a bluish glow emanating from unearth it, and surprisingly, it gave way, even under her slight weight and frame.

Inside the unit, almost hidden amongst the clutter of shelves that lined the walls, filled with knick-knacks and porcelain figurines, a little, old lady sits in front of her computer screen which shows a bright blue screen with a warning pop-up across it.

The woman's glasses magnify her eyes into googly-eyes that fill the entirety of the glass frames, yet she still squints to read the words on the alert message.

The bare-footed girl stumbles haphazardly to where the old woman sits at her tiny wall desk and pushes the surprised senior aside to hit the control-alt-delete buttons and clear the computer screen's message, replacing it with the black reboot screen.

She sighs with relief as the pain in lifted and she stumbles back to lean against on of the trinket-filled shelves.

The elderly woman blinks as she tries to focus her eyes on the young woman in the soaking wet blouse and skirt, her hair dripping and clinging to her damp cheeks.

"Oh, Judy, dear." The old woman greets her with recognition. "I was trying to send you a letter on the computer and that darn message kept coming up again and I forgot what I was supposed to push."

"It's ok, Grandma," Judy replies breathlessly. "But I've told you, you have to reboot the system when it freezes, or it will send out that signal they installed in my Occ-Unit app. I wrote it down for you."

Judy moves over to the wall above the computer and taps the piece of paper that was tacked there, which read: CTRL-ALT-DEL.

"Oh, dear, I forgot." Judy's grandmother said apologetically. "Well, would you like to have a cup of tea? You looked soaked, is it still raining out there?"

Shadow Dive

Looking down as he stood waiting for his bus to arrive, Alan regarded his shadow, cast on the ground in front of him.

The morning sun at his back shone down all around the concrete of the sidewalk at his feet, except for the dark void of the area blocked by his body.

He knew it was because the dense material that made up his solid form did not allow the wave lengths of light coming across the expanse of space from the yellow Sun to pass through to the surface of Earth's crust he now stood upon. That was the science of it.

Yet, he could not help but wonder if the shadow on the ground was merely a dark doorway to another side; another dimension that radiated with the dark light of a black sun its own.

Where, perhaps, a shadow version of himself was looking down at the patch of light that stretched out on the ground before them. Wondering, as Alan did, if it were possible to simply drop through one's own shadow and arrive on the other side; on the opposite side of light.

Craning his neck down further, without actually bending over, as to preserve his shadow's integrity, Alan looked closer at the silhouette on the ground.

Could he... could he see into the shadow?

Or was his imagination getting the better of him?

For a moment he thought he was just tired from the events of the passed weekend, but then he could have sworn he caught a twinkle of movement within the darkness.

Like looking into a dark pool of water, he could almost make out shapes in the inky depths within.

Unconsciously, he leaned down even closer until he was almost doubled over, staring deeply into the mysteries of his own shadow. Yes, he could do it; if he just fell through he would be in another worl...

Alan came to as a crowd of people looked down at him, their distant voices becoming clearer as he came back to consciousness.

Lying on his back his focus narrowed on the woman leaning down closer to him than the others in the circle.

"Hey, are you alright?" she asked Alan in a practiced voice that said she was used to this line of questioning. "I'm a nurse; can you tell me your name? Do you know where you are?"

After a moment of trying to form his thoughts clearly enough to get out of his mouth, he responded slowly, "What, what happened? Am I through?"

The question made the woman as well as the crowd look even more concerned.

"Through where?" The nurse asked. "You just fell over and hit your head on the sidewalk pretty hard. Maybe harder than it looked..."

Alan looked up passed the crowd to the sky above and saw the bright, yellow sun still on its morning ascension.

"Well, that answers that question." He said to himself aloud as he let them help him up.

As their bus pulled up and they filed on, the group of bystanders made sure to keep well away from the strange man they had just watched seemingly try to do a head first dive into the pavement.

This city is getting weirder everyday.

Butterfly Sanctuary

Sitting quietly amongst the flowers that filled the air with their peasant aromas, she allowed herself a moment to relax; a small repose from the usual turmoil that had filled her life as of late.

Taking in all of the exotic plant life hidden away in the forest garden she had stumbled upon, she felt a smile spread across her face that lightened her pretty features, which had been darkened with grief and worry as of late.

She watched as fat bumble bees lumbered from fragrant flower to fragrant flower, filling the sunny garden with a happy buzz.

A fluttering movement above made her look up to see a multi-coloured butterfly come floating down from the clearing that opened up into the clear blue sky.

The beautifully delicate creature flitted down to where she sat upon the smoothed stump bench, situated in the middle of the soft, green grass of the garden lawn. It descended until it finally came to touch gently down on her shoulder. She marvelled at the intricate patterns covering its wings.

Before she could study the butterfly that had just landed with more scrutiny, another fluttered down from above and she watched it pass in front of her face to come to a rest upon the sleeve of her blouse.

Almost immediately, another appeared above her head and as she looked up again, she saw the air filled with a kaleidoscope of colours from the multitude of butterflies that now swirled quietly around her.

Her smile widened and she let out a delighted giggle as she held out her arms for more of the lovely creatures to perch upon. Curiously, the landed insects did not stop flapping their tiny wings but continued beating them rhythmically.

More and more of the butterflies began to land all over her paisley blouse, their delicate-looking legs clipping onto her clothing securely. Unsettlingly secure, in fact.

Finally examining the first one that had landed on her shoulder more closely, her blood ran cold as she saw that the set of tiny mandibles were actually made of a black metallic material; the body of the thing, she now also saw was just a metal cylinder made to mimic that of a butterfly's.

The tiny mechanical abomination's wings were not at all frail or organic, rather, made of a translucent, parchment-thin alloy themselves; light-weight, but clearly strong.

She began to struggle in panic against their miniature vice grip, but the multitude of robot creatures upon her was too powerful en mass to fight against, and she felt herself being lifted off her stump seat.

Slowly, their strong little wings lifted her into the air even against her struggles to break free.

Soon, she was ascending above the tree line of the surrounding forest, into the blue sky, leaving the green sanctuary of the hidden garden below.

Now, she hoped the nightmarish little creatures' hold on her did not loosen as she watched the ground fall further away.

The fear and panic that had stolen across her heart at the realization the electro-machines were not as they seemed now drained away and was replaced by the seething hatred and rage that came with the knowledge of who had sent them, and where they were now taking her.

There was no need to look up to know what she would find in the distance upon the horizon; he had sent these horrid things for her, and now they brought her to their evil master.

Far off on the horizon, upon one of the many balconies of his mountain fortress, he stood scrubbing his hands together maliciously.

Soon, he thought with a mad grin upon his crooked face, soon his tiny winged minions would be bringing her to him, and she would finally be his!

The evil Dr. Otto Van Noort let out a cracked laugh that echoed across the skies as the tiny speck of a figure against the vast blue of the horizon floated closer; his lovely bride being brought unwillingly toward his foreboding mountain lair.

Wizard Dreams

Once there was a wizard, he was quite a good wizard amongst the magical wizard community and had a pretty good job up at the castle as the King’s Wizard’s second apprentice.

Yet, each night after he was done with his spells and incantations for the day, he would return to his chambers in the south tower, and he would look out the arched window, up at the stars and long for a different life.

He had been chosen to be a wizard when he was a young boy, being the seventh son of a seventh son, and even though he did enjoy conjuring and creating potions for the royal family’s various needs and wants, it was not what he wanted his life to be, it was just the life that had been set out for him.

So those nights alone in his bed, he would dream of a life he would have given anything to have.

For, more than anything, he wanted to be a Wizard of Rock.

Drifting off to sleep with a smile, the young wizard was happy in his dreamlife of throngs of fans cheering his name as he travelled the land bring happiness with his music. His head filled with images of himself playing to teems of rabid fans, all screaming and clamoring to try and get up on a light and smoked filled stage with him as he wailed on his electric lute.

Though, upon waking, he would remember he was just a simple wizard, and would get up to go about his daily duties; leaving his chambers behind, as well as the half-finished wooden lute, hidden sheepishly in the far corner.

Tiny Bear

Once there was a tiny bear that lived in the forest. Abandoned by his fellow bears because of his small stature, he roamed the towering trees of wood alone, searching for a purpose to his teeny, tiny life.

One day, while he was trying to catch giant salmon in the rushing stream, the tiny bear caught the scent of a camp fire cooking something that smelled delicious, so he let his nose lead him toward a campsite where a family of humans were preparing their mid-day meal.

Easily hiding behind an old stump, the tiny bear looked on as the family of campers bustled around the site; everyone doing their part to get the meal ready, except for two of the young boys who were off to the side of their shelter dome, playing.

Although, when the tiny bear looked closer, he could see they were playing, but larger boy was controlling the smaller one's own arms, making the younger boy hit himself with his own hands, and it seemed the smaller boy was helpless to struggle against it.

This filled the tiny bear with anger, for it reminded him of when his bigger, stronger siblings used to push and paw him around just because he was so much smaller than them. So, he growled his small, but deep growl and barrelled his way across the campsite toward the two human children and leapt into the air, somersaulting into a ball to hit squarely into the middle of the older boy's back.

The boy cried out in surprise and tumbled forward, letting go of his brother as he sprawled out on the damp ground. Bouncing back up on all fours, the tiny bear growled at the downed boy as he stood between him and the smaller brother, who now stood dumbfounded at the sight of the little black bear.

With startled yelp, the older boy jumped to his feet and ran crying to his mother who was checking on the simmering pot over the fire.

The bully defeated, the tiny bear turned to the other boy, who still stood twice the bear's height, and sniffed at him with a friendly air. The boy kneeled cautiously down and held out his hand so the tiny bear pushed his head underneath it, allowing the boy to pet him.

Clearly this boy was in need of protection, and what better protection was there than that of a portable wild bear by your side?

After some begging and promising to take care of him, the boy's family said it was alright to keep the tiny bear and they took him with them when they left.

From then on, the two were inseparable, boy and bear, and there was no challenge or bully too great for them to overcome.

Finally, the tiny bear had found his purpose and as the young boy grew into a man, the tiny bear stayed with him.

Until the day the tiny old bear had grown frail and tired, and passed away in his friend's arms as he wept for his small, loyal companion.

Not wanting to be without his tiny bear comrade, the young man had him stuffed and treated so that when the time came, he could pass him along to his own son, to be the child's protector.

Thus is the tale of the first stuffed toy bear.

Hideous

Sometimes it is hard to be a hideous monster, Gorak thought to himself as he stomped home after the long, dark night.

Not the terrifying the humans that slipped into the dark nether regions of the Darkness, between Waking world and the world of Dreams part; that was the fun part.

No, it was the drudging hours spent waiting in cramped, damp spaces like beneath cellar staircases, under close-to-the-floor beds, or in over-filled and disorganized closets, just for the few fleeting moments when a frightened human happened to catch a glimpse of his nightmarish form.

Their screams were delicious, but his massive size made for many uncomfortable nights.

And though he was well-liked in the Company, and the higher-ups were happy with his performance, it was always those slick, wraith-like types that were all long fingers and teeth that kept getting promoted over him; he lacked the drive to bring new and innovative ideas to the field of terror to really make it.

He was just a big, lumbering beast that looked scary but he never got into the mind games that his supervisors were looking for in upper management. Or so they said at his quarterly revues, but he knew they thought he was too dumb to be really life-scaringly scary.

Maybe he was, he thought, maybe he would just be the grotesque hulk that lurked in the dark, night in and night out until he was too old and too tired to do anything else.

With a big sigh he turned up the walkway to his small, one bedroom cave, pushed the door boulder aside and lurched sadly inside. He plopped down on his recliner chair and turned on the television to see what new horrors were happening around the world he could use in his nightly excursions.

Slowly, his heavy eye lids began to droop and, like most days, he fell asleep in his chair in front of the flickering images of the atrocities the humans did to themselves; if only he could think of something half as terrible as those, he would be chairman of the board already.

Instead he drifted into his usual nightmare, the one where he worked at the animal shelter with hundreds of cute puppies and fluffy kittens all jumping on him and licking his face. It was real terror.