Howlietzer Publishing

Category: FICTION

  • Crap! I Reincarnated as a Pokemon! Chapter 2

    A Pokemon Fanfiction

    The Pidgeot edged towards me, sliding down the branch, the size of its talons captivated me. I had to get out of there! I didn’t see any other options but to drop from this height and hope to escape. I dove off the branch.

    The Pidgeot followed, stretching out its legs to grip me. I didn’t know what to do, so I started flailing my limbs all over the place, desperately trying to squirm away from its claws. It worked. We both hit the ground with a thud, however, the Pidgeot was on its feet, stalking towards me. I rolled over quickly and ran towards the tall grass, hoping to lose it inside. It jumped and glided after me, pushing faster with its wings. I dove into the grass and didn’t look back.

    It can’t get me in here, I thought. It’s too big to get me in here.

    It was not too big to get me in there. Though it was bulky, and the grass was thick, its body was streamlined enough to run on its feet and chase me down. I was small and wiry, though, so landing any hits was difficult. I racked my brain, trying to figure out what moves I had to combat a Pidgeot. As a newly hatched Pokemon, I doubted that I had anything significant.

    It lunged at me beak first, but I dodged it easily.

    Special Ability Steadfast… A voice in my head said. Steadfast raises speed each time a Pokemon flinches.

    What the heck was that? Steadfast? I guess I was flinching. I was trying not to get hit!

    The Pidgeot flapped into the air. “Twister! Twister!” it shouted, and little tornado tried to intercept me, but all that flinching made me faster… Man, I remember that game in high school where I got punched for flinching. Not here, I guess.

    I dodged the winds and jumped into the air towards the Pidgeot. “Oh crap! Oh crap! What am I doing?”

    Use Leer or Tackle? Appeared in my mind.

    “Leer! No, tackle!” I said.

    Opponent Pidgeot has Big Pecks. Leer is not effective.

    The Pidgeot tried to grasp me as I flew towards it, luckily I tucked and rolled out of its grasp and fell back into the tall grass.

    “Sand Attack!” it squawked.

    Special Ability Keen Eye. Keen Eye prevents you from losing accuracy.

    “So, I have two abilities?” I said, diving and weaving through the tall grass as the Pidgeot sent more twisters my way.

    You have five special abilities…

    “Five!” I said, “That sounds a bit OP.”

    Keen Eye; Steadfast; Own Tempo, which prevents you from being intimidated or confused; Vital Spirit, which prevents you from falling asleep; and Overcome…

    “So, I can pretty much avoid all status effects? Sweet!” At that moment I was hit by a critical wing attack and I flew out of the tall grass.

    “Holy crap, that hurt!” I struggled to get up. I felt my hit points drop significantly.

    Use Legendary Ability Overcome? The voice sounded in my head.

    Legendary? It was an incredible sensation. I just got the wind knocked out of me, litterally, but I felt a surge of energy rising up in me. Litteral lightning in my mouth.

    “Sure. Overcome. What is that?”

    The Pidgeot dove right at me and I felt the surge of electricity erupting from my mouth, but then somthing hit me on the side of the head and everything went black.

     

    The story so far: 1 3 4 5

  • 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!

     

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