Howlietzer Publishing

Category: FICTION

  • Steady As She Goes: A Necromancy Ritual Gone Wrong

    Steady As She Goes: A Necromancy Ritual Gone Wrong

    Steady As She Goes:

    A Necromancy Ritual Gone Wrong

    Preparing the Ritual

    Bartholomew wiped his brow as he looked at his dead wife lying in their bed. He couldn’t bear her lying in the ground. Not alone. They were supposed to live happily ever after. He folded her arms across her body. He didn’t know what to do. This was his first time.

    He looked at the book once more, studying the picture on the opposite side of the ritual. It was a picture of a maiden laying down the same way, same position. He didn’t know if it would matter, but he didn’t want to mess this up.

    Perhaps it would have been better to practice on some butchered animals first. But the longer she stayed in the grave the more she would deteriorate. No. He had to do it quickly, but also accurately.

    He reread the ritual. A lot of blood was needed. His blood. Necromancy demanded sacrifice—as all magic did—and in this case, as the one who cared for her the most (the book was explicit about this), he needed to measure out 1.25 liters of blood. He had the measuring vials; he had the tourniquet and needle.

    Let’s get this rolling

    He applied the tourniquet and found a vein, sticking the needle as best he could… It was very difficult; he was sure he missed… or maybe he just wasn’t doing it right, but still, the blood poured out and he exhausted his body into several vials measuring 1.25 liters.

    Shit!

    He stumbled around the bed as he bandaged his arm. He was going to need a doctor to make sure he wasn’t infected. He did his best to sterilize everything, but he wasn’t confident in his ability. Nor was he confident in raising the dead.

    She looked so peaceful, lying there. Asleep. Dreaming. What about? He wondered. He shook his head. No time for sentiment.

    I must do it now.

    The vials were to be drained into her mouth. She was to “taste life and live again” as the book described, all while he chanted a sacred script…

    Oh shit! The Chrysanthemums!

    He nearly toppled over. The blood loss was getting to him. His head pounding. He had left the bag by the bedroom door. He crawled to it and dragged it towards the bed and gradually pushed himself back to his feet.

    Steady as she goes.

    A Moonlit Resurrection

    He teetered momentarily, till he regained his focus upon her face. He smiled and pulled out the chrysanthemums, laying the blooms around her body, etching her silhouette onto the bedspread. A princess in the moonlight…

    He glanced at the window. The moon was full; one of the main reasons it had to be tonight.

    No mistakes. All perfect. Steady yourself, old chap.

    He pulled the curtains wide and tied them away to let the fresh moonlight in. He opened the window and let in the cool fall air.

    Autumn was her favorite. She loved the crisp chill and bundling up in her sweater and mittens. He smiled at the thought and stared longingly at his beautiful bride.

    Picturesque, she was, lying amongst the flowers. Pale as the incoming light, but he imagined her rosy cheeks as he kissed them. Her sparkling eyes as she playfully pushed him away. He set to work.

    He pulled the bed closer to the window. It would work better closer to the light.

    Oh! Of course!

    He forgot the power circle. He measured out the best position in front of the window and drew the circle with red chalk, a pentagram in the center with sigils in and around the points. He checked his work and moved the bed on top of the circle, her face aglow from the moon.

    He sighed. The candles!

    The candles had to be just right. He followed the picture and lit them, one by one, muttering the prayer that went with each one around the circle—five in all.

    Belinda Returns

    Bartholomew was exhausted and he was having a hard time standing. It was worth it. He poured the vials down her throat and read the sacred rites. He could feel it. There was something in the air. Igniting. Sparks prickling his skin, like a million pin pricks tapping him.

    It was quiet and then a howling gust of wind blew into the room pushing him up against the opposite wall, forcing his eyes shut. The candles blew out, and the wind stopped.

    “Bart?” came a voice near the window. “Where are you, Bart?”

    “Belinda!” He opened his eyes to see her standing in the moonlight, wiping a bit of blood off her lips.

    “What? What is the meaning of this?” she stared at him, a princess in the moonlight.

    He approached her. “I brought you back. Darling, I couldn’t bear your death. I was mad with grief, Belinda.”

    He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tight, kissing her forehead and cheeks, waiting for her inevitable scarlet to cross her face. But it didn’t. Her stomach growled, a deep and hollow sound, and her eyes looked at him with a hunger and lust he had never seen before.

    Her mouth agape. Darkness inside. Her jaw unhinged with a snap, and she buried her teeth into his shoulder, ripping his shirt off.

    Bartholomew screamed. Belinda silenced it with her elongated, clawlike fingers, wrapping them around his throat until all that was heard was a gurgling sputter.

     

    Want another? My Mother-in-Law Moved In… Then Things Took a Dark Turn

  • Shadow Puppets

    Shadow Puppets

    Shadow Puppets

    Shadows on the Ceiling

    Tanya watched the shadows dance on the ceiling as she tried to sleep that night. They were cast from the trees outside her window, provided by the moonlight, and, thanks to the ceiling fan, moving—dancing. The overlap of branches and stems appeared like two lovers waltzing around her ceiling fan.

    She laughed softly, because as soon as she thought it, they appeared more and more like little people twisting and turning with the blades of the fan. She held her breath. It was uncanny. They didn’t look like branches, they were the shadows of two people.

    She burst from her bed and peered out the window. She didn’t really expect anything, or rather, she didn’t know what she expected… Something to validate the dancing shadows on her ceiling? But along the empty street and empty sidewalk that circled the cul-de-sac of Keppling Drive there was nothing. She turned back to the ceiling and the little man and woman were branches again, flickering with the fan blades.

    She slid back into bed and stared back at the ceiling, the branches bouncing with the fan, and she concentrated hard, waiting for them to transform into the people she saw moments ago, but they didn’t. Instead, they morphed thicker and thicker till they were just blackness, but as suddenly as they engulfed her ceiling they became miniscule lines that waved at her.

    She felt a bit ill at the sudden change and blinked profusely to stop her head from spinning. Normal. Everything was normal.

    She closed her eyes and shifted in her bed.

    A Whisper in the Dark

    Hello?

    She opened her eyes and turned. Something had just whispered in her ear. It sounded raspy and old, weak and almost inaudible. But it was uncanny. She looked back up at the shadows on her ceiling and gasped. She would have screamed if the gasp hadn’t petrified her lungs. On the ceiling was a face.

    Do you like moving pictures?

    Tanya couldn’t speak. She definitely heard that. She just stared at the ceiling where the face became the little man and woman again. Dancing. Nothing sinister, just as before.

    You can make them dance too. You can make them do whatever you want. Go on. Try it.

    The Voice Behind the Puppets

    Suffice it to say, Tanya was terrified. What was talking to her? And it wanted her to try shadow puppetry? At 11:00 pm? She had school in the morning!

    She relaxed a little. The voice, though unfamiliar and rough, didn’t sound like a bad voice. Almost like grandpa. She focused on the dancing lovers and morphed them into dinosaurs, roaming her ceiling. Then she changed them into astronauts tethered to a space station. Then to her parents, scolding her and sending her to her room without dessert.

    She frowned at that. She had been doing her best not to think about it, but it had happened. She had come home with a less than perfect score on her algebra test, and her father was disappointed in her.

    Did that happen today?

    Tanya meakly spoke. “Yeah. I’m still kinda mad about it.”

    She’d done her best. Sure, she hadn’t really studied that much, but he didn’t have to yell at her so much.

    Her shadow father repeated what her father said before, “You’re better than this! You must work harder if you want to get anywhere in the world! Do you want to be a loser?”

    Tears were welling up and sliding down her pillow.

    I sure you did your best.

    She did. She really had done her best.

    Tanya’s Anger Grows

    Is there anything that I can help you with?

    The shadows changed to her father getting beaten up by two other shadows. And as she watched them punch and kick her father, two shadowy figures emerged from the corners of her room. Featureless, just large, dark human-like shapes.

    She didn’t want to beat up her father. She just wanted to sleep and forget about it.

    He’ll do it again if you don’t take back your power, Tanya.

    She felt the malice emanating from the shadow men. They seemed angrier than she was at the scolding, and the feelings of shame and guilt spread upon her like an infection. Her anger grew and she got out of bed. She should express exactly how she felt to her father. How dare he make her feel this way! It was one test, and she did as good as she could have.

    The Shadows Take Shape

    The shadow man closest to the door opened it and allowed Tanya to pass through, immediately following her with the other close behind. It was quiet for a moment, until Tanya and the shadows entered her parents’ room.

     

    Want another? Steady As She Goes

  • Till the Cold and Hunger Ceases

    Till the Cold and Hunger Ceases

    Till the Cold and Hunger Ceases

    The Haunted Violin, Stradivinski

    The Carnegie Hall Debut

    Thomas smiled as he entered the stage to applause. The theater was packed; a sold-out show. He never believed he could make it this far. In four weeks, he went from slumming in the subway to playing in Carnegie Hall and it was all thanks to Stradivinski.

    He opened the violin case that sat on a stool in front of a microphone as the crowd hushed in anticipation. He pulled Stradivinski out of the case and closed his eyes, melding with the violin spirit, ready to move and press as was necessary.

    Possessed by the Music

    Stradivinski possessed him every time they played. Often Thomas had no memory of the concert. Thomas would always wake up to the audience cheering and clapping, take a bow, and put Stradivinski away. He didn’t even remember anything when Archie discovered him on the subway, nor did he remember how Stradivinski showed up.

    All he remembered was a dream. As he tried to sleep in the underground, struggling with cold and hunger, a voice came to him and asked him, “What would you give to live a better life?”

    And Thomas answered, “Everything. I would give everything to not feel cold and hungry ever again.” And he woke up with a curious box beside him.

    A Dream Deferred

    Thomas had left Pennsylvania three years prior to pursue an acting career. He’d always wanted to be in movies. Go on talk shows. And meet extraordinary people. He wasn’t very good at acting though. He always said, “I figure it out when I get there.”

    His parents had given him a large amount of money to follow his dream, but he spent it quickly and ended up paying the price by living in the underground. He didn’t want to go back home. He didn’t want to face his parents who would only tell him, “We told you so.” He tried to stay in the know about acting jobs, but it was getting harder and harder to do. No one wanted to talk to a homeless man who hadn’t shaved or washed in a month, and he couldn’t convince them that he was a star that would “pay them back,” if they gave him a chance.

    The Promise Fulfilled

    But here he was, finally making a name for himself, alongside Stradivinski. He was planning on calling his parents soon and proving to them he was doing fine, even if it took three years and four months, he’d made it.

    He woke up. Stradivinksi released its grip on him and the audience was silent. He looked out to see that they were all dead, dehydrated, like a bunch of mummies, their ritzy clothes clung to them, still bright and new but adorned tight, sun-dried husks of horror.

    The Curse Unleashed

    Thomas gasped and nearly fell over. The weight of Stradivinski increased immensely and Thomas lost his grip. With a clatter, Stradivinski tumbled onto the stage and shattered, revealing a pitch-black creature. It was serpent-like but had long arms with very long claws.

    Like lightning, it seized Thomas, pouncing before he could get back up to his feet. “Remember, you said you would give everything to stop the cold and hunger. I’ll keep that promise.”

    It ripped open his mouth, breaking the jaw, and crawled down his throat.

     

    Want another? Shadow Puppets

  • Crap! I Reincarnated as a Pokemon! Chapter 1

    Crap! I Reincarnated as a Pokemon! Chapter 1

    A Pokemon Fanfiction

    I feel squishy. What is this?

    I don’t remember how I got here, but it’s dark and tight. I was surrounded from head to toe by some sort of barrier. I’m all cramped in here. I need to get out! I stretch out my arm and the walls break. There’s light outside. These walls aren’t so tough. I kick out my feet and the walls break below too. This is easy.

    I stretch out completely and feel the shell around me crack. I’m covered in goo and… fur? What is going on?

    I shook the last bit of eggshell off my head. I could see now. I was under a huge tree with numerous branches jutting out, thick boughs reaching the ground and then climbing back up towards the sky. Dead leaves covered the base of the tree, and the egg I hatched out of was covered in them. A nest of some sort.  I wasn’t sure, but I could smell many more all around, buried in the dead leaves.

    There were no other creatures nearby. No mother creature. I took a second to look myself over. I have three, dark brown toes on each foot, and now I have four of them. I used to only need two, right? I can’t see my face, but as I sit back on my cream colored poofy tail, and raise my forepaws to my face, I feel a snout, like a dog. I bring them higher and feel a set of floppy ears, then I bring them lower and find an almost collar of hard something and fur around my neck.

    It feels like stone. But is it a part of my body? Well, I’m a dog now. Didn’t see this coming. I must have died in that car accident. That’s all I can remember. What was I doing anyway? I was in a hurry. I remember that much. . .

    The day I died, I remember waking up to my messy dorm room. I’d always had a hard time keeping things tidy. I suppose it was typical for a young man who didn’t have a clue in life. That wasn’t entirely true.

    I was an accomplished gamer. I’d won many prizes playing Starcraft II, Magic the Gathering, and League of Legends. I’d traveled all over the world competing in tournaments and placing almost always in the top four. It was nice. But now I had to go to college.

    My parents told me if I wanted to be someone I had to go to college. And though I sort of liked what I was studying, I didn’t really feel like myself. It was a lot of pressure getting all these assignments turned in on time. And most of the work I didn’t agree with. How necessary was this homework?

    I was learning game design. I did like drawing and talking about games, but I really wasn’t the best at it. I was terrible at coding. I was better at playing. After a year of constant studying, I got better, but things just got harder, for my mental state mostly.

    It was harder to get out of bed. I remember the alarm going off the morning before I died. It was like any other day. I couldn’t get out of bed. So, I stared at my phone for an hour before I pushed myself up. I felt greasy. It had been a while since I’d taken a shower. I just didn’t care. Nothing made sense to me anymore. What was the point in taking a shower?

    I just swiped some deodorant on, pulled on some clothes that I had lying around, and managed to get my stuff together for class.

    No time for breakfast. My stomach gurgled in disapproval. I really need to shave. I will shower and shave after classes.

    My first class was Game Theory that day. I like this class because I get to see Jasmine LeBlanc. She was this super cute Japanese girl in my class. Second-generation Japanese, as she would say. I found her fascinating because she changed her hairstyle once a month. This month she’d gotten her hair cut short and dyed green with black tips and spiked up all over her head. She was so sexy. With black eyeliner and lipstick and a formal emo look, she was my dream girl.

    That day she was wearing a green T-shirt with a silver snake on it. Slytherin House. A black blazer on top. Black short pants and black suspenders, ankle socks and black chucks. She sat near the front. I sat near the back. I liked looking at her from afar. I didn’t have the guts to talk to her. Her grades were amazing. I just didn’t have it in me. . .

    “Dude, you need to wash your clothes,” said a student sitting next to me.

    He was a friend named Errol Spencer. He knew about my past as a successful gamer, and we enjoyed talking about games. He still played. I felt like I didn’t have time. I spent a good portion of time studying in the library. . . or tried to study. I got caught up in my phone, on social media. I’m really not good at school. I never was.

    “Laundry is this weekend,” I said.

    “It’s Monday, dude. Are you still depressed?” he said.

    “I’ve never seen a doctor, so. . .”

    Was I depressed? I had no motivation. Didn’t sleep well. Had a hard time focusing. I don’t know. I just felt overwhelmed by everyone’s expectations.

    “Dude, if you keep this up, you won’t be attracting any of these cute gamer girls. After class, we’re fixing you up.”

    I laughed. “I’m a lost cause, man.”

    “Dude, you were TazManiac! You won all sorts of games 2 years ago.”

    “I lost my edge, man. I’m just a student now.”

    “Well, if you’re looking to get your edge back, tonight, Blackwell Dorm is having a Magic the Gathering Tournament. Seriously. I know you don’t game anymore, but we need to get you out of this. People are afraid you’re going to kill yourself.”

    “Why do you care? That’s my decision.”

    “You’re not serious, are you? If you say something like that again, I’m telling the teacher.”

    “Dude, I don’t have any Magic cards on me. They’re all at home, two hours away.”

    “We can get you some new ones. A starter deck and some packs. Hell, I have cards I don’t use. You can go through them. Seriously. I want you to come out of your room and hang out tonight. In fact, this thing is going on all week.”

    I hadn’t played Magic in a long time. It was tempting. Something to break me out of my shut-in habit. Maybe meet some people. I wasn’t a big fan of people. They always had some expectations they expected you to meet.

    “Plus, Jasmine will be there. You guys could play together.”

    Errol smiled. He knew I had a huge crush on her. And he almost always used her as a way to get me to do anything. I’d been a pretty stalwart in my ‘No’s’ lately, something I was proud of because I hate being manipulated. But I was lonely. I was tired of trying to do things I hated. At least I enjoyed Magic. I could actually meet people and maybe have fun. I hadn’t had fun in almost a year and a half now.

    “I want you to know first and foremost that I am not going because of Jasmine,” I said. “There’s no way she and I will meet. I haven’t played in a while. If she’s any good, she’ll probably be at the top and I’ll lose somewhere in the beginning.”

    “You got to try man.”

    “I’m doing this for fun. Not because of anything else.”

    “I got you. Just please take a shower and change your clothes.”

    I smiled. “No promises.”

    The tournament started at 7:00 pm and ended at 10:00 pm. After classes, and many disapproving faces of my peers (probably because I smelled), I got home and showered, cleaned up my room, got all my laundry in a bag and took it to the machines down the hall to start washing. Then I was off to the nearest game store to make a deck.

    Walmart or any of those box chain stores were nice, but if I went to a game shop, I had the chance of digging through their singles and finding something good. The thing about starter decks, which are full, playable 60 card decks, is that they are not as powerful as the decks of REAL gamers. I cannot stress that enough. I was going to pick the best starter deck they had, figure out what was missing or what could make it better, and then dig through their singles to see what I could find. It was a crapshoot. Worst-case scenario, I’d play the starter deck.

    This is just so I can get out of my funk. I don’t want to be depressed anymore. I want to have friends. Like I used to.

    I sat in my car before I turned over the ignition. I always had to give myself a pep talk these days. Either when I was in bed or anywhere else. I just wish I could find my purpose or some sort of meaning. Would I ever be happy?

    I started the car and navigated with the help of my phone’s GPS to the nearest game shop. It wasn’t far, about 5 miles from the school. I went inside and was excited for the first time in my life. I hadn’t been surrounded by so many games in a long time. I made my way to the Magic the Gathering section and started perusing. My strategy was to look for a Blue-White deck.

    Blue, White was a combination that not a lot of players played because it was mean. Blue cards had a lot of counter effects, preventing players from getting their cards down. White had protection. Together, they were an annoying combination. I had to consider, however, that in a school full of gamers there would have to be at least one. I found a Blue White deck I liked and bought it. Then I took a seat at one of the tables and unboxed the deck. It was decent, about what I expected from one of these. But the next question was where do I want to take it? What was my win con? Do I just want to be annoying? You don’t make many friends by being annoying, but that’s why you play Blue: to be annoying.

    I did a little online research on my phone and figured out the best cards to add and take out. I dug through the boxes of singles to find what I wanted. They had only a couple of them. It was a crapshoot. I bought those cards and retook my seat.

    “You’re really focused hard on that,” said the game store cashier.

    I smiled. “Got to make it tournament worthy.”

    “You know, I have some rare cards behind the counter if you’d like to look. Some mythics as well.”

    I hadn’t thought about that. Of course, he didn’t have the good stuff on the floor for people to pocket. I got up from my seat and proceeded to where he was standing. He didn’t have what I was looking for, but he did have a very interesting card that I could use. It would take my deck in a whole other direction, but this is what I loved about this game. With so many cards the combinations were endless. It was invigorating. I was beginning to feel like my old self again.

    I hope I can make this feeling last for a while.

    I purchased that card and went back to the boxes. Bought some more and I was fairly satisfied with what I got. I let the cashier take a look. He was curious, and I was slightly proud. Felt like showing off a little.

    “I think your mana base is off a bit.”

    I sunk a little.

    “But I have a couple of decent cards back here that can fix that. Also, I would recommend this card as well.”

    He pulled out a white angel card. It was just an uncommon, but I could tell why he chose it. It would be perfect in this deck.

    “I’m kind of low on money,” I said sheepishly.

    “Well tell you what, I bet there are some cards there you didn’t use, right? Sell those back to me and let’s see where we’re at.”

    I handed him five cards, three uncommons and 2 commons. They were not very expensive. I had little faith I could cover the difference.

    “Hmmm. Well, I can’t give you land to fix your mana, but if you have $5, I’ll trade you the angel for those five. Deal?”

    He was ripping himself off. I can’t believe this man was willing to do that.

    “Are you sure?” I was excited. I hadn’t been treated with much kindness lately. Most treated me with disdain. . .

    “Yeah. Just make sure you come back here. We have Magic tournaments all the time.”

    “I will! Thank you so much!” I grabbed my purchases and hastily went out the door. I needed to leave quickly before I started to cry. I’m going to do my best to clean myself up, study hard, and find time to hang out with Errol and play games. I need this to get back on track.

    I left the parking lot and was on my way back to school. I had to remember to get my laundry out and in the dryer. I also wanted to get some food. I checked my clock on the dashboard. It was 6:30. I didn’t have a lot of time. I pressed the gas pedal hard. I didn’t want to be late, and honestly, I preferred being early, so I didn’t miss anything. Traffic was bad. It was rush hour. There was a red light ahead. I imagined it turning green, hoping that by doing so it would change. I heard a loud honk somewhere in the distance, but I kept my eye on the light. It changed. I pressed the gas pedal again to race through that light and onward.

    CRASH!

    That’s right. I got t-boned by a semi that didn’t stop on red. Jackass! Wow. I spent a lot of time making a fantastic deck that I’ll never get to play. That’s depressing.

    I looked around. The world here looked brighter. The grass was green, greener than I’d seen in a long time. It felt cool under my toepads. It may be weird being a dog or whatever, but this place seemed nice. I looked up at the tree. It was massive with branches sprawled all over the ground, close enough for me to jump up and up from branch to branch and scale to the top.

    At this point I had no idea where I was, or what I was; I also had no clue what I needed to do next. Gaming college hadn’t prepared me for days like this. From the top of the tree, I’d probably be able to see a town, not that that did me much good in my current form. But also, maybe I could find water; I’d probably need that eventually along with food.

    I dashed up the branches and climbed as high as I could. The tree seemed to be very old, judging by how big it was, and incredibly tall. I made it pretty far up and I could see forever. There did seem to be a town nearby, but it was nothing like the cities from my old world. It looked rather small, maybe only one hundred people? I was always bad at math. There seemed to be a mountain in one direction and a river in another. I felt my toepads losing their grip on the thin branches as I craned my neck from side to side; it was inevitable: I was about to fall. I ducked down and tried to regain my grip, but these feet were not made for climbing trees. I tumbled down the branches until I fell into a nest. I scrambled to my feet, making sure that I didn’t disturb any eggs or babies. Luckily it was empty, however, I heard a cry from above as I got my wits back.

    There was a giant bird circling overhead, screeching. I could understand it perfectly.

    “How fortuitous! A dumb animal has fallen into my nest, after a fruitless day of hunting. I shall eat well tonight!”

    I gulped. I hadn’t even considered anything trying to eat me. What the heck was I going to do with a giant bird trying to eat me?

    I didn’t have time to think, the bird dove into the tree with such speed and agility that it looked like it just passed through the branches. It landed on a branch in front of the nest and began to step towards me and the nest. It was a pidgeot. It was a real pidgeot from the Pokemon games, and it was going to peck me to death and eat me!

     

    The story so far: 2 3 4 5

  • The Schoolyard Fight Story

    The Schoolyard Fight Story

    Loner Autumn (Ch2):

    The Schoolyard Fight Story

    The Whispered Reputation

    It had been a typical first week at school for Byron. He kept to himself and everyone else avoided him like the plague, however it didn’t stop people from constantly staring at him and talking about him. The story of his intervention the previous weekend seemed to have traveled to every nook and cranny of the school and soon, Byron heard his name whispered in the hallways nearly every day. It was exhausting.

    Even in the cafeteria, where he usually found solace at a small table, he was surrounded by hundreds of eyes. Thank God it was Friday! He couldn’t believe he’d managed to deal with all of this in a single week. And there were still 35 weeks to go until summer break.

    Still, the only people who were there that day were Tina, Russell, and himself. And he wasn’t the one blabbing about what happened, and he doubted it was Russell either. Of course, the story varied as to what happened. Byron hadn’t heard a single true version of the story yet, however, each story ended with Byron knocking Russell unconscious. Tina must have been telling everyone some version of the story to protect Russell’s integrity… somewhat.

    Byron stared blankly ahead. That girl perturbed him. She was the most stereotypical high school cheerleader he’d ever met, matching every old movie trope he’d watched… Incredulity didn’t describe how Byron felt at her hesitancy to get this guy kicked out of school, even better locked up. He shook his head and drank his milk. ‘Whatever,’ he thought, ‘I’ll do my best to stay out of everyone’s way. It’s none of my business.’

    Gossip and Denial at the Cheerleader Table

    Tina Kurt sneezed while biting into her sandwich. She sat at a long table with the rest of the cheer team. She hastily wiped snot off her nose; it was very important to keep up her appearance. As she did so, she scanned the cafeteria for the boy who saved her, not because she wanted to see him, but more as to make sure he didn’t know she was talking about him… and she still found it weird that he didn’t grab her ass or anything! What was wrong with him?

    “He’s over there,” said Jennifer, a tall, pale girl, with heavy black eyeliner and long blonde hair, “He’s sat in that same chair every day. You should go talk to him, since you’re obviously crushing hard.” A mischievous grin spread across her face as the other girls snickered.

    Tina stood up and shouted ferociously, “I don’t like him!”

    The whole cafeteria stared at her until she took her seat. She saw him staring at her, and she couldn’t help but blush. But it was only because of her involuntary outburst. It was embarrassing and very unbecoming of the most popular girl in school.

    “Whoa…” Jennifer blinked, “Easy there, firecracker. Save that for the game.”

    Alice, a short haired brunette, whose eyes were roaming a book, said, “For the record, for someone who doesn’t like him, you talk about him all the time. You’ve barely mentioned Aaron this entire week.”

    “Aaron who?” said Jennifer, as the others at their table laughed.

    Tina’s lips pursed as tightly as was humanly possible. “I don’t like him. He’s ugly, short, and scrawny! He’s not a dream boat like Aaron Thompson!”

    Alice grinned and Jennifer rolled her eyes.

    “Besides,” said Tina, “As the hottest girl in school I deserve the hottest guy, and Aaron is MY guy!”

    The heat at the table rose several degrees, pressuring other tables to push away.

    “Tina,” said Alice, “Aaron is a senior. There are plenty of attractive senior girls. Just because you somehow got the captain position of the cheer squad, doesn’t make you the hottest girl in school.”

    “Yeah,” said Jennifer, “Can someone explain that?”

    “Sounds like someone is jeally,” Tina interupted. “You think you can take Aaron away from me, Alice?”

    Alice closed her book and sighed. “No, Tina, I can’t take Aaron away from you.”

    “Speaking of jeally,” said Jennifer, “It looks like your plan to make Aaron jeally by flirting with his best friend didn’t work.”

    “Yes,” said Alice, “It only worked against you. You’re lucky that Byron kid was around to help you.”

    Tina fell silent. Alice was right, as always. What would have happened if Byron wasn’t there? She would have been raped.

    “I still say we should report him,” said Alice. “He could do it again. He might have already done it.

    “No!” shouted Tina, standing up again, and sitting back down as quickly as possible. “We made a cheer promise not to tell a soul.”

    “You told everyone in first period Monday morning,” said Jennifer.

    “That’s not the point!” said Tina, “We don’t tell any old people!”

    Alice sighed. ‘At least she doesn’t think she’s the smartest girl in school.’

    Russell’s Bruised Ego

    Russell Brown studied his lunch tray. He’d been in a funk all week, and nothing he or his friends could do would lift his bad mood. It was embarrassing. That little kid beat him up like he was nothing. In a matter of seconds, he’d awaken to find both Tina and the kid long gone.

    The worst part about it was that everyone knew what happened. Everyone knew that Byron Lucas, some new freshman from another town, kicked his ass. Russell watched him from across the cafeteria, reading a book, completely unaware of how much he’d ruined his, Russell’s reputation.

    “Russell,” said Aaron, “You’re shaking the table.”

    Russell looked away from Byron and glared at Aaron. He didn’t say anything. Hector, a dark eyed, dark-haired boy with a tiny dark moustache, turned to where Byron was sitting. He like everyone else found the idea that he beat Russell in a fight was insane. “That kid beat you up?” he turned to Russell. “What is he? A buck ten?”

    “Shut up, Hector!” said Russell, “He took me by surprise. And I got dirt in my eyes.”

    “That rhymed,” said Ted, a tall blonde with spikey hair, reaching for a high five from Hector, who just stared at him.

    “Yeah, yeah,” said Aaron raking his fingers though his hair, “It’s alright, man. It could have happened to anyone.”

    Russell looked up from his tray. “What are you talking about? I got beat up by a little kid. A little kid!”

    “It really is amazing, actually,” said Howie Nelson, a tall, 6′ 6″, boy with sandy-brown hair, “A little guy like him taking on a goliath like you, and it’s rather poetic really.”

    “Don’t start, Nelson,” said Russell, looking disgustedly at him, “And freaking chew with your mouth closed!”

    Howie smirked. “Roger, will comply.” he saluted and spit a little apple at him.

    “You know what you have to do, right?” said Hector, stopping Russell from getting up, “You need to have a rematch and take him down. If anyone from anywhere else hears about this, our team will be a laughingstock.”

    “I doubt there’s any chance of that,” said Howie, finishing his apple core.

    “Whys that?” challenged Hector.

    “Look at him,” said Howie pointing. “He wants to be left alone. He’s not interested in this stuff.”

    “Because I’ll kick his ass,” said Russell, standing up, “There’s no way he’ll beat me again!”

    “Yes,” said Aaron, “Nelson, go tell him to meet Russell at Old Town for a rematch. Tell him if he doesn’t, we’ll bother him until he does.”

    “Seriously?” said Howie, “You guys really want to do this?”

    “Of course we do,” said Aaron running his fingers through hair again, “Go tell him. Either way, things will be as they should.”

    Howie nodded.

    An Unwanted Student

    Byron took a deep breath, listening to the world around him, the vibrations of the school tapping his skin like insect legs. He slowly breathed out, hoping to relieve his anxiety. He opened his eyes and looked around. He saw the red fire alarm on the wall across the cafeteria. He turned his head to the right and saw a black rimmed clock, counting down the time for lunch to end—fifteen minutes. And then he turned to his left and, to his horror, someone was approaching him.

    His name was Todd Muckleroy, a large boy, with slicked-back, black hair, thick black glasses, which had clip on shades, and a superhero tshirt that Byron didn’t recognize. The two shared many of the same classes, as they were both freshman, and Byron found him exceptionally annoying.

    “Hi!” said Todd, extending his hand to shake. “My name’s Todd Muckleroy.”

    Byron glared at him, which had no effect. It only made him lean in closer, his hand reaching, trying so hard to be shook.

    “You are Byron Lucas, right?” He said, deciding to rest his hand on Byron’s.

    Byron, slowly, pulled his hand free and placed it on his lap. Raising an eyebrow, he said, “Why are you bothering me?”

    “I heard you beat the snot out of Russell Brown. Is that true?” he blurted out a bit louder than Byron would have preferred.

    The whole room went deadly quiet. Byron could feel everyone’s eyes on him again. Dead, listening stares, touched every part of him. He hated it.

    “What happened? Did he give you a wedgie?”

    Byron cracked a smile that gradually turned into a laugh. He laughed really hard, and had a hard time stopping, because no one had ever given him a wedgie. He didn’t even think they were real.

    It was hysterical, and if a single person wasn’t looking at him before they were now. Some were even chuckling along, unsure what was happening.

    Byron finally settled down, the thought fading to the back of his mind. “No,” he said, smiling, “Did he give you a wedgie?”

    Todd glanced around the cafeteria. “Well,” said Todd, leaning in to whisper, “Yes, I get wedgies every day.”

    “Why?” said Byron.

    Todd blushed as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I think they’re jealous of how cool I am.”

    Byron stood up and picked up his tray. “You’re an idiot,” he said. He walked away, towards conveyer belt to place his tray. Sadly, he could feel Todd jogging up behind him. He winced and turned around. “You’re not going to follow me, are you?” he said, trying not to lose his temper.

    “Well, you see,” said Todd, ignoring Byron’s avoidance, “My parents are really confused about why my underwear gets so stretched. And I’m tired of lying to them.”

    “So, stop lying,” said Byron. “How does this involve me?”

    “Please, Sensei! Teach me your sweet, ninja moves!” He struck a pose much like a power ranger. Byron’s face ignited scarlet and felt like hot coals. ‘What the heck did he just say?’

    “I think you got the wrong guy,” said Byron. “I’m not a master, so I don’t teach. I don’t like people; I can’t stand being around them. Why do you think I sit alone?”

    “Well, everyone needs friends,” said Todd.

    Byron winced. “I don’t. Now please leave me alone.”

    The Rematch Invitation

    He walked away towards his locker, up a flight of steps and towards the freshman hallway, almost unaware of the looming presence of another following him. He ducked into an alcove of lockers where his stood near the entrance of his next classroom. He knew someone was there, behind him, but this one felt a lot calmer than Todd Muckleroy.

    He felt no need to hide. This was school after all, someone was bound to see him at his locker at some point, but hopefully this would be his one and only visitor. He spun the combination and opened his door as the shadow grew closer.

    Byron grabbed his English books and folder and closed the locker before he acknowledged the intruder.

    “Hey,” Byron said, dryly as he looked up at the giant, with about as much awe as he would if he were staring at a goldfish.

    “Hi, what’s up?” said Howie. He was chewing on a piece of gum, Byron sighed and rolled his eyes, not willing to start this conversation.

    “So…” said Howie. “There’s word that you beat the shit out of my bud Russell.”

    “Word, huh?” said Byron. “And if I did, what are you going to do about it?”

    “I’m not going to fight you,” said Howie, “Not because I’m afraid of you, but because that jerk probably deserved it. Honestly, I’m here because my friend is requesting a rematch, today afterschool, in Old Town. Do you know where that is?”

    “I gather it’s the historic district, with the brick roads and old buildings,” said Byron.

    “Yeah,” said Howie, “That’s the area. There’s a park there. That’s usually where that stuff takes place.”

    “Are you going to be there?” said Byron.

    “I… Am going, yes,” said Howie, “I’ll be there.”

    “Why?”

    Howie laughed. “My bud wants a rematch. I got to support him.”

    “He’s not your friend. You care less about that guy than you do me. You’re not fooling anyone.”

    Howie frowned. “While I may not particularly like the guy, he’s my teammate, and he’s going to kick your ass!”

    “Like last time, right?” A smirk grew on Byron’s face. “I doubt I’ll make it. So, however you guys want to spin it: Russell kicked my ass. I cried. Maybe throw in a wedgie for good measure. I don’t care. I won’t be there though. I’ve got more important people to see.”

    Howie tried to keep his clenched fists from rising. Byron noticed. “Fine,” said Howie, “You forfeit, because you’re too scared.”

    “I mean, however you want to spin it,” said Byron. “You let me know if you ever want to fight, though. I bet you have a vicious punch.”

    Byron turned into the empty classroom next to his locker and took a seat in the back of the room.

    ‘What a dick,’ Howie thought. ‘I hope Aaron is okay with this. For everyone’s sake.’

    Language Arts and the Ninja Note

    Byron continued his day with language arts taught by Miss Francine. She was the prettiest teacher he’d seen so far at Morrisville High School and her voice was sweet and calming. He couldn’t help but breath it all in and enjoy her classroom environment, except Todd had chosen to sit right next to him.

    They didn’t have assigned seats, however Byron liked sitting in the back because it was against the wall, with the least amount of people staring at him or even willing to talk to him. Most of the people in the back were “under achievers.” Several of which, it was clear, had used the lunch period to smoke weed in the student parking lot. He wasn’t fond of the smell, but it was the price one paid for a seat in the back.

    Todd looked nervous—like he’d never sat in the back of a classroom a day in his life. The thought was amusing, but at the same time made Byron anxious, because he knew what was coming. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Todd pushing a note closer and closer to the edge of his desk, to the point it was about to fall off. Miss Francine continued to teach, but Byron got the impression that she could tell some mischief was a foot in the back.

    Todd began to telegraph with his pencil loudly, including “pssts” and “heys” to get Byron’s attention. Byron took a deep breath and focused solely on the black board as Miss Francine explained participle phrases… or something like that.

    Then Todd started scooting his desk over. Inch by inch, sliding his desk closer to Byron’s.

    ‘Oh no,’ Byron thought, ‘seriously?’

    Todd’s desk was in the aisle, about to touch Byron’s, the note sliding on the corner of his desk now, folded neatly, when Miss Francine walked over.

    “Mr. Muckleroy? Fancy seeing you in the back of the class today. Did you get tired of my lessons?” She asked looking down into Todd’s eyes.

    “Oh!” said Todd, “Miss Francine, what brings you to the back of the class today?”

    Byron shook his head the classroom erupted with laughter.

    Miss Francine blinked and then grabbed the note on the desk and began to read it.

    ‘Please don’t read it out loud! Please don’t read it out loud!’ Byron thought to himself.

    Then she handed it to Byron. “It’s for you,” she said smiling. A smile from an angel…

    “Since it is Friday, and the end of the first week of school,” she addressed the class, “I’m going to let that slide, but, henceforth, I will not tolerate anyone passing notes in this classroom.”

    Byron glared at Todd, who in turn waved at Byron. “Read it,” he said.

    Byron shook his head and opened the note:

    Dear Sensei,

    I am willing to be your humble student, your protégé, your ward, in short, I need you to teach me how to be a ninja, so I can defeat my enemies and become the strongest fighter at Morrisville High School.

    I will stand up to the bullies and protect the weak; I will become the hero that this school needs. I will become Ninja Todd!

    Your Best Friend,

    Todd Muckleroy

    ‘I really can’t take this kid seriously,’ thought Byron shaking his head. He turned back to Todd, who gave him a thumbs up and a wide grin.

    Byron smiled, crumpled the note up, and dropped it on the floor. The returned Todd’s thumbs up.

    The Fight Setup

    The bell rang, and like the rest of the class, Byron grabbed his books and went to his locker. Todd followed him; their lockers were close by. Byron did his best to grab everything he needed for the weekend and run home. It shouldn’t be hard to leave Todd in the dust; he didn’t look like he could run fast, but as he closed his locker, Todd was already behind him. For the first time Byron was startled by someone.

    “What?” said Byron.

    “You didn’t answer my note,” said Todd.

    Byron twitched. “Crumpling it up didn’t give you a hint?”

    “I thought you were just destroying the evidence, like a ninja would,” said Todd smugly.

    Byron blinked. “I… I don’t know what to say to that.”

    “Clearly, you’re speechless,” said Todd, “Meaning, I’ve impressed you to take me on as your pupil. I will become a ninja and save this school from tyranny!”

    “You got some real ‘main character’ energy, Todd,” said Byron, placing his hand on Todd’s shoulder, “But I can’t teach you ninjitsu. I don’t do ninjitsu. So, this is goodbye.”

    “Please, Byron, I want to be able to defend myself. All my life I’ve been picked on, and I don’t know why. Maybe if I could defend myself, I would get some answers.”

    In his passion, Todd had put his hands on Byron, and instantly Byron grabbed his hands about to throw him to the ground, but he stopped himself. Todd wasn’t a bad guy…

    “No, Todd,” Bryon released his grip, “Listen, you’re incredibly annoying. Please leave me alone.”

    Byron walked away and Todd didn’t follow.

    He felt guilty about what just happened, but he knew why Todd got picked on: because he was emphatically himself, and no one accepted it. If he was just low key and went unnoticed, then he’d probably be a ninja, instead of always being so obnoxious…

    Byron made it out the doors and bobbed and weaved around people until he made it to the sidewalk. Everyone was talking about the “Big Fight” that was happening in Old Town. Byron laughed to himself. ‘They’ll all be very disappointed.’ He stood at the crosswalk with several other students, waiting for the WALK to light up.

    “Just got a text from Aaron,” said a boy standing there, “Fight at Old Town, going down in 30 minutes.”

    “How childish,” said a girl next to him.

    “Do you want to go?” he asked.

    “Sure,” she said, “Who’s fighting? Anyone we know?”

    “Russell Brown,” said the boy, “And some kid named Todd. It was supposed to be a rematch with that Lucas kid, but word is he’s a coward and wouldn’t show up.”

    “Oh gawd,” said the girl. “Is it that know-it-all Muckleroy? I wouldn’t mind seeing him get his ass kicked. He’s so annoying!”

    Byron stopped. ‘No. Oh no. Seriously?’

    He turned around, “Hey, how do you get to Old Town?”

    Old Town Showdown

    It wasn’t far from school, five blocks East, and Byron found himself walking down a red brick road with lots of shade from the trees up and down the sidewalks. He wondered how it could have happened so fast—Todd facing Russell in a fight. Was Russell and his friends near Byron’s locker when he rejected Todd? Did Todd lash out? He felt guilty about all that had happened that afternoon. Todd had no business fighting Russell. Then again, if Todd wanted to be in a fight so badly, perhaps this would be a chance for him to see what it was all about.

    Fighting, as Byron saw it, was just a means of protecting oneself and others. Had he just walked away when he was passing by Tina and Russell that day, he and Todd wouldn’t be in this mess. If he, Byron, had just accepted the rematch and lost gracefully, this could have been over.

    Lost in thought, he nearly ran into a stone column that sat in front of a large area surrounded by a black iron gate. He took a second to look at it. There seemed to be a house up on a hill, surrounded by trees within the black iron bars. Byron gave a whistle. ‘Does Dracula live here?’ he thought. But then his attention was possessed by what was across the street.

    On the other side lay Morrisville Park, a large open space with a playground and cement sidewalk that wrapped around it. Every parking spot was filled with a student vehicle, and a large group of students had formed a circle in the middle. ‘Bingo,’ thought Byron.

    Quietly, Byron slinked around the crowd and looked for an opening so he could get a good look at the action. He didn’t want to be noticed by Russell or his friends; he just wanted to make sure Todd was alright. He might have to step in and save him.

    As he scanned the park, he saw a tall tree just on the outside of the circle. It looked scalable, so Byron crept up and climbed the tree to a spot thick with foliage. The fight hadn’t started yet. Byron looked at his watch. He was already late. What were they waiting for?

    Todd stood in the middle of the circle, facing Russell, who seemed to be looking around for something. He wasn’t sure if he should strike first or wait till his opponent wasn’t distracted. What would his favorite superhero, Jackelope Man, do?

    Todd started hopping up and down. He imagined himself as Jackelope Man, with rabbit ears and antelope antlers and big rabbit feet. He saw himself jumping so high that he kicked Russell in the head, knocking him out with a single hit. ‘Oh yeah! I’m so cool,’ Todd thought.

    “What the hell is he doing?” Hector asked Howie as they watched Todd do a series of poses and mediocre kicks.

    Howie shook his head. ‘Where the heck is Lucas?’ Howie thought. ‘His friend is going to get destroyed.’

    Russell held back laughter as he turned to Aaron, who entered the ring at this time. Aaron believed that Byron would show up, due to what Aaron called his MO.

    “Where is he, Aaron?” asked Russell between snickers.

    Aaron, who had been scanning the crowd since the first person showed up to the park, shrugged. “I can’t find him. Maybe I misjudged him. Or maybe this doofus isn’t really his friend.”

    Howie stepped forward to join the conversation. “So, we’re calling this off, right? This kid can’t fight. Look at him.”

    Aaron smiled. “No. You heard what he said earlier. He wants to learn something about himself. Just lay him out flat, Russell. Be quick about it, we have things to do.”

    The Unexpected Outcome

    Howie grimaced and returned to the circle with Aaron. Russell approached Todd. He had little interest in beating this poor guy up. Certainly, wasn’t a good use of his time. They did have other things to do, specifically perusing the mall for girls.

    “I see you’re finally taking me seriously!” said Todd, assuming a crane stance. “I must warn you that my jackelope powers make me incredibly strong, for when I was bitten by a radioactive jackelope just after birth, I knew that I was different from others…”

    Russell punched him square in the face. Todd fell, his glasses flew off his face and to the grass,  broken in half. There was no cheering. Just silence, as everyone felt how one sided this fight was. Russell felt a twinge of shame, but just as Aaron said, this kid was wondering what he was made of. The crowd began to disperse, but then Todd hobbled back up on his feet.

    “Where… Do you think you’re going?” Todd stood up. His nose bloody and his face scarlet. He was panting. He hadn’t expected it to hurt that much, but he could still stand. He had to see if he could land one hit. “Hold on there. I’m not done yet.”

    “Kid,” said Russell, “I’m not hitting you again. It’s embarrassing.”

    The crowd recircled quietly. Nobody expected Todd to stand back up. From the tree, Byron couldn’t help but smile. This kid was tougher than he gave him credit.

    ‘I can’t just knock this kid down again,’ thought Russell. “Tell you what. You get one free shot. Punch me.”

    He ducked down to Todd’s level and tapped his cheek, a grin spread across his face as the crowd laughed.

    Byron watched as Todd anchored himself in a back stance—all his weight shifted in the back—as he placed his right fist at his waist. “What’s he doing?” Byron said out loud.

    “Falcooooooooon Punch!” shouted Todd as he stepped and punched Russell in the solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him.

    Byron blinked, stunned. “Did he just use a super smash move?”

    To everyone’s surprise, Russell fell back, being hit right in the solar plexus knocked the wind right out of him. Todd maintained his anime punching pose, panting, about to fall over from all the physical exertion.

    Hector stepped up and knelt to Russell to right him back up. “You’re making us look bad! Stand up, and knock him back down!” Russell righted himself and walked up to Todd as he lowered his arm.

    “Say good night, kid,” Russell picked up Todd and threw him hard on the ground.

    Todd breathed out an “oofff!” But he did not get back up.

    A New Bond

    Everyone dispersed. Russell and Hector exchanged a high five as they walked away. Byron had leapt down from the tree once everyone had gotten back in their cars. He watched Aaron close the door of his red charger and their eyes met. Aaron smirked as he and his friends drove away.

    Byron knelt next to Todd. “Hey, Todd. You, okay?”

    Todd gasped. “Did I win?”

    “Not in the slightest,” said Byron, smiling. “But you did alright for your first fight.”

    Todd’s breathing was labored but he seemed to be okay, just stunned and catching his breath. “So, can I be your student now? Did I prove myself worthy?”

    Byron hesitated. Something was happening. He felt a little differently towards Todd, like he wasn’t as annoying as he originally thought. It might be cool and hang out and train together. He didn’t have anyone to train with in this new town. “Yeah. I think you did. Let’s get you home and we can talk about it this weekend.”

     

    Missed Chapter 1? Read here: The New Kid