Howlietzer Publishing

Category: Fantasy

  • My Wife Was Replaced by a Mimic, and I Couldn’t Be Happier (Pt 1)

    My Wife Was Replaced by a Mimic, and I Couldn’t Be Happier (Pt 1)

    (Teaser) Claire came back from the mountains sweeter than ever—cooking my favorite meals, calling me “hubby,” folding the laundry. There’s just one problem.

    I don’t think she’s Claire anymore.

    Proverbs 27: 15-16

    15 A quarrelsome wife is like the dripping

    of a leaky roof in a rainstorm;

    16 restraining her is like restraining the wind

    or grasping oil with the hand.

     

    My Wife Went on a Trip—and What Came Back Wasn’t My Wife

    My wife went on a trip recently with her girlfriends.

    What came back wasn’t my wife.

    It wasn’t even subtle. I don’t know what happened to her up in those mountains, but if I’m being honest… it’s an improvement.

    Claire used to be sweet. When we were dating, she was very attentive—doting, even. After a long day at work, she’d meet me at the door with a smile and a hug that I thought I could live inside forever. I made good money, enough for her to stay home, keep the place tidy, and tend to the little things that made our house feel like a dream.

    So of course, I proposed.

    When the Person You Married Becomes Someone Else

    The wedding was beautiful. Life after the honeymoon started out smoothly. But it didn’t last long.

    Claire started spending every day with her friends—long lunches, shopping trips, and endless spa days. I hardly ever saw her anymore. And when I did, she was either drunk or high.

    She wasn’t a happy drunk.

    She threw tantrums over maxed-out cards and screamed at me when the bank declined her latest spree. Demanded I work more overtime so she could keep buying things we didn’t need.

    “You’re not providing for me like you promised in your wedding vows!”

    I did promise to take care of her. But this… this was getting insane.

    Her latest demand? A deluxe spa retreat for her and five girlfriends. A place up in the Smoky Mountains called Smoky Mountains Resort—mud baths, hot springs, seaweed wraps, the works.

    When I hesitated and suggested that maybe just she should go, or perhaps scale back the five-friend headcount, she slapped me.

    She had never hit me before. I was shocked.

    “You’re a fucking bitch if you can’t pay for me and all my friends to have a decent birthday experience!”

    So I paid.

    I make good money, but I’m not a Jeff Bezos. I’m trying to retire someday. Still, I caved. I always did. “Happy wife, happy life,” right?

    But something in me broke that day.

    A Spa Trip to the Smoky Mountains—and a Breaking Point

    I had tolerated her for too long. I believed in marriage—I really did—but Claire had become someone I didn’t recognize. I made up my mind: I would serve her divorce papers when she came back.

    I didn’t know how she’d react. Probably call me a bitch again. Or worse. But it didn’t matter. I’d let the lawyers sort the mess out.

    Her trip was a week long. I spent the time consulting attorneys, drafting documents, and rediscovering what peace and quiet felt like.

    It was the final night of her trip. Tomorrow, she’d be home.

    I poured myself a glass of Jack Daniels No. 7—my go-to. I’d spent the week juggling overtime with laundry and cleaning. It was exhausting, but also kind of… grounding. Whiskey helped take the edge off, but it was no shoulder rub like the ones Claire used to give me.

    The Last Call from Claire

    I sank into the recliner, savoring the quiet, when my phone buzzed. Claire’s ringtone.

    I groaned. It was late. If I didn’t have tomorrow off, I’d already be in bed.

    I figured she was calling to yell at me about some last-minute resort charge or to start the nagging early. I knocked back a shot and picked up.

    “Hello?”

    Static. Then—

    “Mark! Please help me! There’s something stalking me!”

    Her voice was low, frantic, a breathless whisper. The second shot had just started hitting me.

    “Claire? I can’t hear you. Speak up.”

    “You drunk asshole! Your wife is in trouble! You promised to protect me!”

    The whisper turned into a strangled hiss—like she was shouting through clenched teeth. I rolled my eyes, already preparing to throw her own vows back at her, when a shriek rang through the line.

    And then—silence.

    Not a hang-up. Not a disconnect. Just… nothing.

    Except… maybe something.

    A rustling sound. Giggles? Grunting? Bare feet scuffing tile? Hard to say. Nothing direct. Just noise.

    I stared at the phone for a few seconds, waiting for her to come back on. She didn’t.

    Must’ve been a prank. Can’t wait for more of that when she gets home.

    I poured one more shot, knocked it back, and went to bed.

    📌 Stay Tuned for Part Two

    If you liked this story, share it and follow along as things get stranger in Part Two—coming next Monday.

  • The Mirror Spoke Softly – A Dark Fantasy Horror Tale

    The Mirror Spoke Softly – A Dark Fantasy Horror Tale

    The Mirror Appears

    Deborah placed the mirror between her bookshelves with the care of someone introducing a relic into their sanctuary, a kind of private cathedral built from books and stray paper and the quiet rituals of a solitary life. The mirror was tall and unnervingly elegant, the kind of object that seemed not merely found but summoned—its silver frame dulled by time and tarnish, the vine work etched into its surface twisting in upon itself like secrets written in a forgotten alphabet. Serpents curled along the edges, mouths open in silent hisses, and the entire surface gave off an inexplicable warmth, as if it retained the memory of other hands, other rooms, other worlds.

    Subtle Shifts

    Even in the absence of light, it shimmered faintly, as though moonlight lived inside it, and caught the soft glow of her desk lamp the way still water catches the reflection of stars. At first, it was nothing more than an aesthetic indulgence, a whimsical addition to her otherwise joyless apartment, which smelled faintly of old coffee and neglected dreams. A nod, perhaps, to the fantasy novels stacked on her shelves and the tarot cards she never quite learned to read. Just a little magic, she told herself. Something beautiful to break up the monotony.

    But within days, something subtle shifted, as though the mirror were not merely a surface but a threshold, and her reflection—so obedient, so familiar—began to misbehave in the smallest, most disconcerting ways. There was a pause. A breath of hesitation. She would reach for a pen or turn her head and catch, from the corner of her eye, the disquieting sense that the figure in the mirror was only pretending to mimic her, following her actions not out of instinct but out of calculated performance, a half-second too slow.

    The Wink

    She told herself it was fatigue. The mind playing tricks in the liminal hours between wakefulness and sleep. After all, she hadn’t been sleeping well. She hadn’t been doing much of anything well.

    Then one night, it winked.

    Her reflection—her, and not her—winked with deliberate slowness, with an almost indulgent grace.

    A Vision of Power

    Deborah had not moved.

    She stood frozen, rooted to the floorboards, unable to look away, her breath caught somewhere between her ribs and her throat, where it lodged like a stone. The woman in the mirror wore robes of such deep black they seemed to absorb the light around them, and her shoulders were draped in shadow. In one hand, she held a staff carved from something that glimmered like bone under glass, etched with runes that squirmed and rearranged themselves when she tried to understand them.

    Behind her, the apartment had vanished, replaced by a cavernous stone hall that rose into darkness, its stained-glass windows shedding unnatural light in colors that made her stomach churn, and torches guttered with violet fire along its walls.

    Then, in an instant, it was just her reflection again—Deborah, plain and exhausted, with ink smudges on her fingers and a hoodie stretched thin from years of wear, standing amid the clutter of books and unopened mail.

    The Pull of the Mirror

    But the image stayed with her, lingered like a dream that refused to be shaken off. She found herself returning to the mirror night after night, no longer out of curiosity, but need—a deepening hunger for something she could not name. Each night, the mirror version of herself reappeared, a figure of impossible power and uncanny grace, soaring above burning cities, conjuring beasts from smoke and ash, casting spells with a language that burned on her tongue even in silence.

    Sometimes, a voice—rich and low and honey-slick—spoke to her in thoughts not entirely her own: You could be me.

    And slowly, day by day, she began to believe it.

    Abandoning the World

    She stopped going to work, let her email rot unopened, and ignored the mounting pile of messages from concerned friends and unpaid bills. She let the outside world crumble into static while the mirror world bloomed in color and flame. The reflection began to teach her things—chants that slithered off her tongue like live things, sigils she traced on fogged glass that made the lights flicker and hum. Her houseplants sprouted and withered in the space of an afternoon. Water boiled without heat. Her own skin began to feel too warm, feverish, as if it were preparing to shed.

    She smiled more often, but the smile was crooked now, unfamiliar, not quite anchored to her own bones.

    Crossing Over

    Then, one night, the mirror changed. It pulsed—not with light, but with intent, as if it were breathing, exhaling some unseen mist that made the air in the apartment dense with promise. Her reflection stepped forward, closer than it had ever dared, and extended a pale hand that shimmered like moonlit marble. Deborah, trembling and hollowed out by longing, raised her own hand to meet it.

    Her fingers passed through.

    The sensation was an immediate wash of scalding heat followed by a suffocating cold that spread across her limbs like frostbite blooming from the inside. She gasped. Somewhere, her heart pounded like a warning bell. But it was too late.

    She stepped through.

    A New Prison

    There was no ground beneath her.

    Only falling.

    She plummeted through a tunnel of stars and wind and memory, through a screaming sky that twisted and broke and reformed around her. Time unraveled. Her thoughts scattered like ashes.

    And then—silence.

    When she opened her eyes, she was back in her apartment. The same bookshelf. The same lamp. But something was wrong. She could see, but she could not move. Could not blink. Could not scream.

    Because she was inside the mirror.

    And the other Deborah—the one in black robes, with calm eyes and a smile as sharp as glass—stood where she had once been. She turned her head, adjusted her hair, and walked to the door with the effortless ease of someone who had always belonged in that body. When Garret knocked and asked if she was okay, the new Deborah opened the door and laughed lightly, telling him she’d simply been tired.

    Inside the mirror, the real Deborah watched, screaming silently as the doppelgänger slid into her life with elegance and grace, as if she had been rehearsing this moment for centuries.

    The mirror no longer shimmered.

    It pulsed, faintly, like a heart slowly dying.

     

    If you enjoyed The Mirror Spoke Softly, you might also like My Mother-in-Law Moved In… Then Things Took a Dark Turn

     

  • Crap! I Reincarnated as a Pokemon! Chapter 5

    A Pokemon Fanfiction

    I sensed a mix of emotions coming from Laura. She was proud that I won, but she was also ashamed that she just stood there. It was heart-breaking. I get the feeling it was her first battle with Bilby. I still can’t get over how goofy that name is.

    She couldn’t stop crying and kissing me. She held me tight in her arms and rushed me to the Pokemon center. I appreciated it. I hate traveling in a Pokeball. Nurse Joy handled me quickly and soon I was all healed up and ready to go. I grew a couple levels by fighting Bulby. He must have been pretty powerful. I think I was roughly level five when I fought him. I must be around level ten by now.

    Current level is seven. HP is 20. Attack is 17. Defense is 14. Special Attack is 12. Special Defense is 14. Speed is 17. Nature is Adamant. Characteristic is Alert to Sounds.

    Jeez! I was really hoping I grew more than that. Maybe I was below five?

    Bulby, no matter how ridiculous his name, was a tough Pokemon, and he had a trainer that was serious about Pokemon battles. And after going to school with Laura, it was apparent that she was not as serious as I would have thought. She froze during the battle. She just stood there and took the abuse from that jerk. I’ve got to raise her confidence. If we’re going to be a team, she needs to learn how to take charge and become a competent trainer. How am I going to do that?

    Nurse Joy handed me back to Laura. Her tears were gone, and she seemed a lot happier. Maybe she had some time to think things over.

    “Rowdy, I’m so glad you’re better!”

    Rowdy?

    “I hope you like it. I thought it fit since you took on Bilby all by yourself,” she said, wiping a tear away. “Some trainer I am, huh?”

    She’s about to cry again. I bark and wag my tail. I don’t want her to be upset. I want her to move on. I’m better now and that’s what matters. She scooped me up into her arms, thanked Nurse Joy, and carried me out of the Pokemon Center.

    She didn’t speak much on the way back. It was a bit unsettling because she didn’t have her usual exuberance. I felt weird doing it, but I licked her arm, hopefully, in a comforting manner. I can’t figure out what she’s thinking. I was always bad at reading people.

    I could see our house. The setting sun made the sky orange and all the shadows darker. Laura opened the gate and placed me on the ground. She rummaged in her schoolbag and pulled out her keys, but before she could open the door, Hiker Mark opened it.

    “Laura! How was your last day of school?”

    She dove into his chest and gave him a big hug. I could hear sniffles and sobs coming from her. I really wasn’t sure why she was still crying. I was fine and we won her first Pokemon battle. What was her deal?

    I looked up to the window, on the other side of the door. The Purrloin was sitting on it, her tail dangling from the edge, her eyes steady, fixed on Laura.

    She noticed I was staring and stood up, stretched, flowing from shoulders to rump bending the way cats do. She leapt down and approached me.

    “Good job in the battle today.” Her expression was bland. I couldn’t tell with this cat, though I couldn’t tell with humans either.

    She must follow Laura around everywhere to be this informed, and is very adept at moving without being seen. I didn’t pick up on her scent the entire time; maybe I just didn’t know what she smelled like. I was becoming accustomed to a lot of smells since I came to this world.

    She picked up her right paw and started grooming her dark, purple coat. I approached and took a sniff, not really knowing what I was doing, but maybe I would become more aware of her presence in the future. This startled her into a hiss.

    “Whoa, calm down. Just smelling you. You have a habit of sneaking around and I want to know what you smell like.” That sounded so creepy coming out of my mouth.

    She smelled like tree bark and pollen and something else, maybe just cat. I had a cat growing up, and she reminded me a lot of how it smelled back when I was a kid. The Purrloin relaxed and went back to grooming herself. “She doesn’t really want to be a trainer, you know?”

    She said this between licks. I looked up to see that Laura and Hiker Mark had already disappeared inside the house. “How do you know what she wants?”

    “I watch her,” she said.

    “That’s, honestly, a bit disturbing,” I said, thinking about my past life as a voyeur, I blushed.

    The Purrloin ignored me. “She thinks she wants to be a trainer, but she’s only giving into peer pressure.”

    I thought about that for a moment. “Doesn’t every child dream of becoming a Pokemon Master?”

    The Purrloin stared into my eyes. She seemed very strong and intelligent. It gave a lot of credit to her assertion. I wanted to know what her level was.

    Purrloin current level 12. HP is 34. Attack is 26. Defense is 22. Special Attack is 26. Special Defense is 22. Speed is 30. Nature is Calm. Characteristic is Thoroughly Cunning.

    Well, she’s stronger than me. Perhaps a new team member for Laura? Since she likes her already, it’s not a bad idea.

    “You’re looking at my stats?”

    How did she know?

    “You’re not from around here, are you?” she continued.

    “Are you from another world?” I asked. It was incredible that I wasn’t alone here, that she possibly had been a person before too. What were the odds? I was so happy my tail started wagging.

    “I’m from here,” she said.

    “Okay. You can see stats too?”

    “The smart ones can. I just didn’t think you were one of them.”

    My tail stopped wagging. “So, what is your point about Laura? What makes you think she doesn’t want to be a Pokemon master?”

    “She was worried about you. She hated watching you fight and getting hurt. She’d rather not battle at all, but she knows that it is the only way to achieve the goal that she set for herself.”

    “All right. I think her being worried is pretty typical of a Pokemon trainer, but also isn’t Pokemon battling a big part of this world? Taking on the Gym Challenge? Going to the League Tournament? Pokemon have been used for battling for generations.”

    The Purrloin blinked.

    I sighed. I really hated talking to this cat. “Welp. I’m going to go inside and eat dinner. Good night!”

    I trotted up the wooden steps and woofed and pawed at the door. Laura opened the door, still in her uniform.

    “Come in you two. I have food for you,” she said, cheerfully. She must be feeling better now. Wait. What?

    The Purrloin proceeded through the doorway and into the kitchen, like she’d been there before. I can’t help but feel annoyed by this.

    “Rowdy, I’m glad you made a friend. Purrloin visits often. She likes it when I scratch her back.”

    “Does she now?” Of course, Laura only heard a series of Rockruffs and barks.

    The Purrloin looked back at me, her eyes still cool and emotionless. I followed Laura into the kitchen. It was well lit with white and blue linoleum tiles. Quartz and Geode sat next to their dishes, eating the little brown nuggets of Pokémon food given to them. Laura grabbed a blue bowl and placed it in front of the Purrloin. I smelled burgers. I doubted that I would get one, but I may paw Laura’s leg and see where that gets me.

    “Look Quartz and Geode! Purrloin is here tonight!”

    She sat a red bowl in front of me. Pokemon food is no hamburger and fries, but it isn’t awful. I stick my face in it and chow down. The Pokemon are not talkers. Quartz does wave her little claws at Purrloin and Geode nods. I never really learned much about them while I was with Hiker Mark in the cave. Maybe they weren’t interested. We only spent a couple of days together before Hiker Mark brought me home.

    Hiker Mark reclined at the table. He must have scarfed down his food.

    “Papa! You ate before I could sit down!” Laura scolded.

    “I couldn’t help myself! It was so good!”

    I was surprised at how fast she cooked them. I wasn’t outside for that long. There were some bugs in this world for sure. I looked up from my dish.

    “So, you come here often?” I asked Purrloin.

    She glanced at me and returned to eating.

    “Why don’t you join our team?” I spoke. “I think you and Laura get along well enough, and you’re pretty strong.”

    She stopped for a minute and looked like she was considering it.

    “You wouldn’t have to stalk her all the time. You could just hang out,” I said, finishing my bowl.

    I may not like her, but she was loyal to Laura. That was a good start. I would need to somehow steer this ship if Laura was going to become a Pokemon Master, and Purrloin wasn’t a bad Pokemon. When I looked at her stats before, I noticed she was a dark type. She would be very useful against psychic types when we inevitably came across them.

    “I don’t see the point,” said Purrloin.

    “Why not?” I said, a bit irritated.

    “You just want to take her on the Pokemon League Challenge. While I admit she thinks she wants that, eventually she’ll figure it out and come home, and I’ll be here waiting for her.”

    “I plan on taking her to the top, cat!” I bared my teeth at her. “She won’t be home for a long time.”

    “Oh? You think you’re strong enough to carry her and a team?”

    “I do.” I don’t know what she meant by that. Laura had graduated from trainer school; she couldn’t be hopeless. And to top it off, I was ridiculously strong. Overcome would be my trump card in our first battles, at least until I could help Laura create a team. I wasn’t sure how I was going to do that though. It’s not like I could talk to her.

    “That Bulbasaur was strong too. You defeated it, that makes you stronger, right? Believe it or not, that was Bilby’s first trainer battle too. He often wins by intimidation and bravado. Though he is inexperienced, most of his classmates never choose to battle him, because of his fierce temperment. I will admit that Bilby’s Bulbasaur is a well-bred Pokemon with very good stats. You were both at level six.”

    I bared my fangs. “So that proves that I am strong, cat!”

    “Manners,” said Quartz.

    “No fighting in the house,” said Geode.

    “How about I fight you then?” I said, ignoring the others.

    “What would that prove? I’m stronger than you. I have more experience fighting than you. Though, I admit, you have an excessive number of abilities. Very troubling and hard to predict.”

    “That’s right, cat!” I said, “I have a lot of abilities that will allow me to win against you and any other Pokemon Laura and I come across!”

    “And she will cry over each one,” said Purrloin, “Not wanting to hurt anyone, and feeling bad when she does. Even worse when one of her Pokemon are hurt. Her heart is too fragile for this.”

    My barking grew louder as I cursed at Purrloin. Quartz and Geode tried to settle me down, both embarrassed by my colorful language. Of course, Purrloin was unfazed by any of it and that made me even more angry.

    Laura picked me up and tried to calm me down. “Rowdy, what’s gotten into you? Is Purrloin causing trouble?” Laura smiled.

    “I’m gonna murder that cat!” I barked, twisting and turning in Laura’s arms.

    “Papa,” said Laura, “I’m leaving tomorrow to start on my journey. I’m taking route 111 and heading to Franklin. There should be a gym there.”

    Hiker Mark nearly fell out of his chair. “So soon, Lala? You just graduated. Perhaps a little training with dear-ol-papa… like about five more years?”

    “Papa! I’m not a kid anymore!” she said.

    Lala? I snickered. I felt for Hiker Mark. After the battle this afternoon, Lala didn’t stand a chance out there, but I would be along for the journey and would keep her out of trouble. At least as much as I could. I barked at Hiker Mark to let him know this, but I doubt he understood a word I said.

    Purrloin swished her tail back and forth, irritated that I would be encouraging Laura and Hiker Mark. I grinned maniacally at her. She was welcome to come along, and if she gave me any trouble, I’d eat her. I laughed to myself.

    She hissed at me, and jumped, claws out careening towards my face. Can’t say I didn’t deserve it.

    Laura stumbled and held us both by the scruffs of our necks. We were helpless now, but steadily glared at one another, daring the other to blink.

    “Rowdy is really strong, Papa!” Laura insisted. “He’ll protect me and help me form a strong team.”

    “See?” I woofed at Purrloin, pleased with this outcome.

    Purrloin rolled her eyes and rowwed loudly.

    Hiker Mark contemplated for a moment. It was a hard sell. He knew Laura better than I did, and I was beginning to understand why everyone underestimated her so much. Still, she had me, and with my unstoppable abilities, we would definitely become the next League champions.

    “Alright, Laura. I guess when I was your age, I also went on my first journey,” said Hiker Mark after a long pause, “You can go, but I want you to make a deal with me: you will call me every night, and after you get four badges, you must come home and battle me. Do we have a deal?”

    “Deal!” Laura smiled.

    “I’m serious, Laura,” he insisted, “This isn’t going to be easy. You can’t come home until you’ve earned four badges. You understand?”

    She hesitated. “Of course, Papa. I can do that. With Rowdy I can definitely get four badges.”

    “Good,” he said, “I’ve got something for you. Wait here.” He got up and left the kitchen to go to his bedroom. Laura put us both on the floor. Purrloin turned away unhappy about Laura’s new deal with her dad. I, on the other hand, was ecstatic to get away from this darn cat! At this point, if she comes with us, I will eat her. I’ve honestly had enough of her neigh saying.

    Hiker Mark came back from his room with a poorly wrapped present. Laura hopped up and down in anticipation and Purrloin couldn’t stifle a smile from Laura’s excitement. Laura hugged Mark and opened her present. Inside were six Pokeballs, six potions, and three antidotes. “Route 111 is full of poison types, so be careful on your journey.”

    He sniffed hard and I turned away. I didn’t want to see Hiker Mark cry. Laura set the gifts on the table before giving her dad another hug, “Don’t cry, Papa! I’m coming back with four badges and then I’m going to beat you in a Pokemon battle!”

    “I can’t wait,” he said.

    I was about to start crying, but I began to hear a weird beeping noise. On the table one of the Pokeballs had activated and Purrloin had disappeared.

    The story so far: 1 2 3 4

  • Crap! I Reincarnated as a Pokemon! Chapter 4

    A Pokemon Fanfiction

    I woke up early the next morning. I had to pee. In hindsight, I probably could have just used the toilet, but as a Pokemon, I thought that would be weird, which never bothered me before. What am I doing here?

    This was my chance to be a whole new me. I could be as weird as I wanted without having to listen to what other people wanted me to be. I no longer had to go to school and do something I was half-interested in. But I also couldn’t be a professional gamer. However, now that I was trapped in the game, I could be a professional… Pokemon. It would have to do.

    I trotted to the bedroom door, completely forgetting I didn’t have thumbs. Being weird in the bathroom was a no go. I was going to have to wake up Laura before I made a mess in her room.

    I tackled Laura awake, landing on her face. She was not happy that I woke her up so early, but she eventually took the hint and carried me outside. Laura’s family had a nice backyard with a white fence and a single tree led up to Laura’s window. It seemed like the best place to relieve myself and think about my future in the Pokemon world. As I neared the tree, I could smell something. It was alive. Whatever it was, it knew I was there.

    I looked up into the tree. The sun was rising, but whatever was up there was still hard to see. I managed to glimpse two glowing eyes at the branch next to Laura’s window. Being piss shy I decided to say hello.

    “Hello!” Somehow that released the floodgates. I felt content.

    “Excuse me?” said the Pokemon, “Are you urinating?”

    “I am. Feels great.”

    “In front of me?” It sounded annoyed by my presence, as was I annoyed by it.

    “Well, you don’t have to watch me.”

    It jumped down from the tree and landed on all fours. It was the same dark cat Pokemon I saw yesterday. A Purrloin, if I recall from the one time I played that version. She looked at me with disgust, her fangs showing as her lips curled and her eyes narrowed. I suppose it was weird to carry on a conversation with a stranger while they are peeing—and pooping—but I digress. In this form, the form of a Rockruff, I had no shame. Especially towards some stray cat.

    “It wasn’t an invitation for you to join me down on the ground,” I said, finishing.

    “Well, it seemed proper to introduce myself, since we’ll be seeing more of each other,” said the Purrloin.

    “Why’s that?” I shook myself

    It looked at me with disgust. “I like your master.”

    “Okay,” I said. “Do you want her to capture you?”

    She said nothing. She just stared at me with her judging cat eyes. I really wanted to shove her face in my business, but then I remembered what I was thinking about before. This is a game! I could become a Pokemon master, or rather help Laura become a Pokemon master and I would be her lead Pokemon. I knew this game. Sort of. This was obviously a different version. I had no clue about my species, except what I’d learned when I was fighting the Pidgeot.

    Keen eye, Steadfast, Own Tempo, Vital Spirit, and Overcome… I had five special abilities. That was probably rare. I remember Pokemon have a max of two abilities. Maybe it had something to do with being reincarnated.

    Her voice brought me back to the present. “I asked you a question?”

    “Sorry, thinking,” I said. “Go ahead.”

    She rolled her eyes. “What do you plan on doing with Laura?”

    That was an odd question. “I just want to be the very best. Like no one ever was.”

    “I don’t understand,” the Purrloin blinked.

    “Yeah, nobody does,” I muttered, “I want to go with her through the gym challenge and become a league champion.”

    Again, her judging eyes came on me.

    “What?” I said, “Isn’t that what most trainers want?”

    She said nothing. Then, “Don’t make her late to school. She’s been very excited about graduation and bringing a Pokemon.”

    She walked away, jumped to one of the fence posts and hopped over.

    What is she about? She could join Laura’s team if she really wanted to. Though, I’m not sure her typing is what we need to be a viable team.

    I walked to the door and pawed at it. Laura let me in and fed me some Pokemon food. It was alright. About what I expected to get as a Pokemon. Hard, dry nuggets with beef flavor… Do they have cows in the Pokemon world? I guess they’re Miltanks? Hiker Mark wished Laura luck as she walked out the front door and to school. I don’t remember a lot in the middle because Laura zapped me into my Pokeball, but eventually I found myself at school.

    I sat on a desk at the front of the room. There were probably twenty other children in the room, several also had a Pokemon on their desk. Everyone sat politely, except for one kid in the class. He looked like the designated bad boy. He had his head tilted up with a piece of straw in his mouth. Who does that?

    As part of their final day of class, the teacher was allowing the students to introduce their Pokemon, if they had any, and what they planned to do after graduation. The bad boy went first, gnawing on his straw, he introduced himself as Bilby… I snickered. Then he released his Pokemon from its Pokeball; it was a Bulbasaur named Bulby. I snickered again. The Bulbasaur stared me down till I put my tail between my legs. Bulbasaurs are intimidating Pokemon, so much for my Own Tempo, didn’t help one bit.

    “My name is Bilby Rodderton, but y’all already know that. This is Bulby. Together we’re taking on the Pokemon League Challenge, and I’m going to become a Pokemon master.”

    I’ll give him credit, for a twelve-year-old boy he certainly had the confidence. When I was his age, I hated talking in front of the class. Maybe he’ll be our rival, like Gary Oak.

    The rest of the class stood up at the front of the class and one-by-one introduced themselves and their Pokemon. Most, like Bilby desired to become Pokemon Masters. Some were interested in becoming Pokemon doctors, like Nurse Joy, and while I wondered how they could do that when all I’d seen were Joys at the Pokemon centers, it was our turn.

    Laura trembled as she stood up. We hadn’t know each other long, but it was obvious public speaking scared her. “This is my Rockruff. I just got him yesterday, but I am looking forward to taking him on my Pokemon journey, collecting badges, and forming an all-star team for the Pokemon League Championship.”

    Silence.

    “Your grades are worse than mine and you suck at battling,” said a dopey looking kid in the back of the classroom. Many laughed.

    “Alright class,” said the teacher, “Show some respect. Many of you want to compete in the Pokemon League one day.”

    “Yeah, but Laura sucks!” said the same kid.

    “She doesn’t understand Pokemon typing at all!” said another.

    “And she doesn’t know which items to use to make her Pokemon better!” said Bilby.

    Wow! These kids are horrible. I look up at Laura, her head tilted down and I can see a little trickle coming down her face.

    “Bilby, wait in the hall. Jared, Kyle, you too!” shouted the teacher.

    Dumb Bilby!

    Bilby and the other two stood up and left the room.

    I don’t like that guy.

    I was zapped back inside my Pokeball. I hate it. It’s really disorienting. I’m going to have to convince Laura to stop doing it. But, also, do I want to partner with Laura? She’s not a bad kid, but I just met her yesterday. And all these crappy kids say she’s a crap trainer. Can I trust that she can even form an “all-star” team?

    Next thing I know I’m outside at the flagpole. Laura’s behind me again. I look ahead of me and this Bilby dick is in front of me with his Bulbasaur. Crap!

    “You know your Rockruff doesn’t stand a chance against Bulby!” said Bilby.

    I swear. That name. Why? I can’t help but snicker again.

    “You find something funny?” said Bulby.

    It’s so weird that I can understand everyone around me, including Pokemon, but the humans can’t understand us. “Your name is Bulby!” I laughed again. I wonder what it sounds like to Laura.

    “I’m going to vine whip the crap out of you!” said Bulby, unleashing two vines from the bulb on its back.

    I smirked as best a puppy can. Where is this confidence coming from? I was the weird, shy, depressed kid that didn’t think he deserved to live. Now I’m a Pokemon and my entire life changes? I like it!

    “Bulby vine whip!”

    I stood there and waited for Laura’s command. It didn’t come. I turned back to look at her only to see a scared and confused look on her face. “Crap!”

    The vines came crashing onto my spot, but I dodged them. I looked back to Laura, but she still didn’t say a word. I barked at her. She looked so unsure of herself. I felt bad, but… can I really take on the Pokemon League with a trainer like her?

    “Even your Pokemon knows you’re worthless! Give up! Try to find something you’re good at! If there is anything!”

    This kid is a douchebag. He’s Gary Freaking Oak alright, but I really don’t want to see him again.

    “Vine whip!”

    The vine lashes whipped towards me. I dodged and countered with a sand attack. There was no way I was beating a Bulbasaur. This is why I dislike rock Pokemon! I’m not a fan of Grass either, but at least Bulby has the advantage, but if I was going to win I had to strike back. I rushed towards him and prepared a tackle attack.

    “Sleep Powder!”

    Special Ability Vital Spirit. Prevents you from falling asleep. I nearly forgot about Vital Spirit!

    I tumbled away and swiftly wiped the dust off my face. I am so OP. But now I need the ability to fight against Pokemon stronger than me.

    Legendary Ability Overcome: when you are hit with a move that has a type advantage, a counter move will become available.

    Is that what Overcome is? I stand corrected. Now I’m officially OP.

    “Vine Whip, while it’s distracted!” said Bilby

    I’ve got to help Laura with her confidence. I can’t do this by myself, can I? I look back at her. She looks terrified. Is she cut out for this?

    I let the vine whip hit. It hurts so much. I feel my HP lowering, but it stops suddenly.

    Move used was grass type Vine Whip, said the Voice. Counter option is Fire Fang. Confirm?

    Confirm!

    I leapt forward and sunk my fangs into Bulby’s bulb, and as my teeth clamped down, a spark ignited and I felt the heat burn right into the grass Pokemon. Super Effective!

    Fainted on the spot. I felt myself get stronger. I must have gone up a level. Boy, was I tired though. Laura ran towards me and picked me up in her arms, cradling and cuddling me. It felt good. But Pokemon battles hurt. A lot. Was I cut out for this?

     

    The story so far: 1 2 3 5

  • The Black-Eyed Children Came Knocking… Again

    The Black-Eyed Children Came Knocking… Again

    Jedadiah woke up to the usual tapping on his front door. He rose from bed and swung his long legs off, not wanting to wake up the missus. Upon sitting up, the bedroom window loomed before him. It was a gloomy day in September, almost looked like it could snow. He chuckled as he stood up in his long johns and took a decent look, ignoring the tapping which had turned to a knock.

    The hilly grasslands waved at him. Sure, was windy, he thought. A storm was definitely a-brewing outside. The apple trees, too, swayed—fruit falling off. He finally blinked the sleep out of his eyes and tuned his ears to the now pounding front door—best alarm clock he never intended to install.

    Unhurriedly, he strode across the wooden boards of the bedroom to his sleeping wife, who had pulled the blanket over her head. He ruffled her scalp and kissed her. She let out a loving growl, saying, “answer the damn door already!”

    Again, he chuckled as he slid on his slippers and stepped out of the bedroom and into the hallway. They had a somewhat quiet life in Western Appalachia, albeit unusual from city life many would be used to in the greater United States, but Jedadiah, his wife, and their kin loved it. It was a refuge away from three BIGs: Big Government, Big Tech, and Big Pharma.

    “I’m coming, I’m coming,” said Jedadiah. He holstered his sawed-off shotgun into his side holster and grabbed a couple special buckshot he received from one of his neighbors, placing them into his breast pocket.  He wrapped his shoulder holster with two .45s buckled inside over his pajamas and proceeded to make some coffee.

    “We do this every morning, Jamie,” muttered Jedadiah scooping the coffee and putting in the filter. “Is it possible you can just go back home without a long-winded story?”

    The pounding stopped as soon as Jedadiah opened his mouth and then an earie silence hung as Jedadiah continued with coffee preparation, pouring water into the machine and pressing the start button. He listened to it whir and steam before ‘Jamie’ finally said something.

    “Please sir, my sister and I are lost and need to use your telephone. Please, we need your help.”

    Jedadiah shook his head. “Jamie, is your sister actually with you today or are you fibbing again?”

    Silence. “Please sir, we need your help.”

    The pounding began again. It sounded like a boot against the bottom of the door this time.

    Jedadiah pulled out his shot gun and loaded the two barrels.

    “Jamie,” said Jedadiah, impatience growing, “Every morning you pound on my door, and every morning I hand you my cell phone, and every morning you don’t remember your parent’s number…” He pulled his old flip phone off an old charger on the kitchen counter and stuck it in his pocket before opening the door to “Jamie” and “His sister.”

    “Jamie” and “His Sister,” who typically didn’t show up, stood in the entry way, white as ghosts and their eyes black as coal. No pupils. Just a pool of black. Jedadiah held his shotgun at the ready as he pushed them towards the porch stairs so he could close the door behind him.

    He pulled out his cell phone and tried to hand it to Jamie. Jamie just looked at it puzzled.

    “Look, Jamie, it is a phone. I’ve showed you this before, remember?”

    Jamie didn’t lift his hand to take it. He just stared at it and then at Jedadiah.

    “I need to use your phone. We are lost. Let us come in.”

    Jedadiah looked down his porch to see the familiar hag he would see on occasion counting the bristles on his boom that he had hanging on the corner of his wraparound porch.

    “Good morning, Miss Maisie! Any telling how many bristles are on that broom there?” said Jedadiah, smiling, as he took a seat in his rocking chair, the black-eyed-children still staring at him.

    “Oh drat!” Miss Maisie shouted. “There are so many, Jedadiah! So many! How is one to count so when one can’t remember which ones one has already counted!”

    He watched as she pulled at the bristles with her clawed hands and pulled them one by one, counting and ultimately losing some as she pulled a new one.

    “Well,” said Jedadiah, “Keep trying, I guess.”

    She shushed him as he turned back to the children who stood menacing him as he rocked in his chair.

    “Well,” said Jedadiah, “You want to use my phone or not?”

    Again, he tried to hand them the phone only for them to stare at him with their dark eyes, unblinking.

    There was a time when Jed would have been unnerved by that, but he was over 60 and seen plenty more in the woods around his property that he wasn’t going to be intimidated by some lackluster “kids.”

    They didn’t take the phone. They just lingered for a while as Jedadiah rocked in his chair. Eventually they left without a sound, where Jed never knew.

    “Finally!” he said, and like clockwork he heard the coffee maker steam and finish. He rose up and got his first cup of coffee for the morning and then figured out his plans for collecting the apples. Maybe Miss Maisie would help him count. He laughed as he turned his head in her direction.

    “Damn it, Jedadiah! Quit distracting me!”

    He watched her start all over again, shaking his head and sipping that fine, dark roast.