PSYCHO
CAT
A
CAUTIONARY TALE:
AS
TOLD BY TONY THE TOY-PINSCHER
BY
MIKE
D. BURKE
I warned my parents, warned them of
the hideous nature of the horrible feline creatures. For years I warned them!
Yet still they made the horrible mistake of bringing one into our home! Our
home! Where we play and eat with our toys and delicious treats. I love my
parents, love them, but sometimes they’re idiots. After all they’re only weird
looking dogs called hoo-mans. For years we were happy, a happy little family.
In fact we were the best little family a king could ask for. My father would
always play with me for as long as I wanted. My mother would always cuddle and
kiss me as much as she could. At night we would all get as comfy as possible
under the nice warm blankets.
When
the weather was nice we would all go for walks. Sometimes even a nice ride. After
eating, if I did “the business” as dad called it I would get a treat. A nice
bone-cookie! They always would give me the best food too, right off the table!
I think.
One
day everything changed though. They had gone out for a bit. When they came back
home I went to the door to greet them, wagging my tail with a toy in my mouth
in case they wanted to play right away. When they came in they smelled
different. So I started to sniff them all over as they looked to each other and
said, “I think he knows.” Knows what, I wondered. “Here you go Tony, we got a
new friend for you. His name is Bruce.” They said as they set down the kennel
and went into the kitchen. I sniffed around it because it smelled so weird.
Then a single paw came out and slapped my snout behind me. Out stepped the cat
they called, Bruce.
I
got real low on all fours and barked to let Bruce know who was king of this
castle. Then I heard my parents say, “Tony you be nice to Bruce.” I looked to
Bruce for a while and he at me and then suddenly he started to choke me. My
parents looked around the corner and saw the two of us and just said, “Awe
they’re hugging!” After that I managed to get away. There was something not
quite right with this feline.
I
tried to tell my parents when I saw him worshipping the cat-demon, Meowll. I
tried to warn them when he was measuring them for either the oven or a coffin
while they watched television but they only shushed me, “Shush!” they said. I
tried telling them when he flushed the toilet while they were in the shower.
“Bark!” I said. They only looked to me and replied, “Tony don’t flush the
toilet!”
Then
one night when my parents and I were fast asleep in our warm bed I heard a
noise. I pricked up my ears and heard a scratching, “Scrtch, scrtch.” I peeked
out from under the covers and saw Bruce! Half his torso was coming up from
under the door like some Hell-spawn who hath no spine and in his hand he had a
butcher’s cleaver. Which was odd because I never knew we had a butcher’s
cleaver. I yelped in despair and woke my parents. Dad screamed and mom yelled,
“Bruce what’s gotten into you?!” To this Bruce made no response but got closer
smiling manically. We bolted for the hall and left him in our dust!
He
chased us down the hall to the kitchen. Cornering us we screamed incoherently.
Then he leaped in the air with the knife ready to slash my parent’s throats. To
which I quickly pushed them aside and opened up the window and out he flew!
We
locked all the windows and doors and stayed up the whole night through. The
next day there was no sign of him.
It’s
been three weeks now and nary hath we heard of him. There is a rumor going
around though. That if you’re out late at night and you see a stray cat.
Beware! For it could be Bruce, the Psycho Cat!
END
THE TALE OF MR. JAMES PEDDLETON
Each morning Mr. James
Peddleton awoke to the sound of his alarm clock telling him it was time for
work. The time being five in the morning. Ranger (Mr. James Peddleton’s dog)
knew it was time to get up as well or food time as he knew it. Ranger jumped up
on the bed and made his way to his master’s face and proceeded to lick it good.
These licks were like Morse code; lick-liiick-‘get up’-liiiick-lick-lick-‘come
on you ass, I’m hungry’.
“Ranger. Ranger come on dear
boy. Let daddy wake up a bit first.” Said Mr. James Peddleton. “Time for
another glorious day at the factory isn’t it boy?”
Mr. James Peddleton worked at
a factory where they made medical supplies. He had been working there for
fourteen years now and was due for a raise. Mr. James Peddleton walked over to
the calendar and tapped the date, “Today’s the day Ranger. Time for my annual
raise, another glorious fourteen cents. Making the big money now boy.” Ranger
just barked at him as if saying, ‘good for you man. Give me food.’ “I suppose
you want your food? I too hunger this day! I think it’s time for a little
reward for my hard work.”
Opening up the cupboards he
took out a honey bun and Ranger’s food. They shared breakfast together then Mr.
James Peddleton got ready for work. As he left, Ranger started barking like
someone stole his favorite chew toy. He ran to the window to see his master
drive down the lane. This made Ranger sad but in the back of his mind he knew
his master would return.
The parking lot was surprisingly
full this morning but Mr. James Peddleton still got his usual parking spot next
to the only light pole. As he dropped his things off in his locker he clocked
in. It was a nice and sunny day and Mr. James Peddelton looked forward to
getting out at three o’clock like usual. Maybe he would call up Kim and take
Ranger to the park. Five men and woman passed by him in suits carrying brief
cases and talking on satellite phones in a hurry nearly knocking the smock and
safety glasses Mr. James Peddleton was carrying. Although it was a bit of a
hassle to put on all of the safety equipment necessary to work in the factory
he quite enjoyed it. Mr. James Peddleton had worked in factories all his life,
he had gone to college for something else but it never worked out. He tried
hard every day not to think about that.
“James! Another glorious
morning in the shit mines right?!” said Bill Seferajic. Bill was a man of
Bosnian descent who had worked with Mr. James Peddleton for thirteen years now.
Bill was the head of a department called: two-fifty-two.
Mr. James Peddleton gave a
big smile, “You said it buddy! Ha! If you don’t work for dollars-“
“It don’t make sense!” Bill
finished the saying as they pounded fists. They parted ways and went to start
their day.
Over
the years the factory had gotten a surplus of workers form foreign countries.
Countries like; Bosnia, India, Korea, Cambodia, Burma, Russia, England,
Vietnam, and etc. So the factory was a cornucopia of diversity which helped
when it needed to ask for government grants. Foreign investors from Greenland
and Argentina had become a big part of the factories business. Even going so
far as to shut down a factory or two in the United States and ship them
overseas. This had been profitable for the company for a number of years. It
had however caused a few problems. More than once an employee from overseas had
gotten there illegally. You see in the beginning the factory didn’t do
extensive background checks regularly. Just last week a man had been arrested for
crimes against his homeland and deported back to his country to await trial.
This had caused a chain of change in command and a rehash of their foreign work
policy. A big change was to their budget.
As he began running his
machine, Mr. James Peddleton started to let thoughts slip in. The time he
almost got his dream job but took up his current one because of the money. That
was stupid. The time his wife, er, ex-wife left him because he had been pulling
double shifts at the factory. Why’d he do that? He shook his head as if to
throw the thoughts from his head. Focus
on work. This is fun. This is money. As he was lost in thought his machine
grabbed ahold of his smock and pulled onto him and made him repeatedly smack
against it. He ripped himself free right as his group leader was walking by
him.
“Hardly working or working
hard Peddleton?” said Lou Benni as he smacked Mr. James Peddleton’s back.
“Peddleton, today’s the day for your annual raise isn’t it?”
“Yes sir, today’s my annual
increase. You gotta love working for such a great place right?!” laughed Mr.
James Peddleton.
Lou Benni scoffed, “It’s a
shit-hole Peddleton. A damn shit-hole that’ll rip out your soul and replace it
with a rash on your ass and high blood pressure.”
“Is there something wrong
Lou? A rash? Really?” asked Mr. James Peddleton.
“Things are about to change
Peddleton. Great, the suits are at my desk. Pardon me while I go suck up their
asses. What we’ll do for money Peddleton. What we’ll do.” Said Lou as he walked
over to his desk. He shook hands with the suits. Men and women of the board
come to have a ‘walk-through’ to see the cogs in their giant machine.
That was strange, thought Mr. James Peddleton. Lou was the best
boss he had ever had and always such a calm, content guy. He had hardly ever
heard him talk badly about anything. Even wool sweaters, despite him being
deathly allergic. Mr. James Peddleton tried to banish these thoughts. It was
time for lunch now. Time for Sudoku.
Every day for the last
fourteen years Mr. James Peddleton sat at the same table, alone. He’d invited
people over to sit with him but he lunched with most of the foreign workers. Oh
everyone was friendly and respectable but they mostly stuck with their own,
speaking the languages of their respected countries. So Mr. James Peddleton had
surrounded himself with Sudoku puzzle books and brain teasers. He had just
bitten into an apple when he received a call on his cell. He flipped it open
and answered, “Mr. James Peddleton, hello?”
“Jim it’s Kim.” Said Kim Cruz.
Kim was Mr. James Peddleton’s girlfriend.
“Hey Kimmy! I was just
thinking about you. Are you busy today, around three?”
She paused a bit, “Jim. It’s
over. There’s someone else. Plus I’m pregnant.”
Mr. James Peddleton spit out
bits of his apple, “Pregnant?! Is-is-is it mine?”
“No you simpleton. I’ve sort
of been seeing someone on the side. And well we’re getting married. Sorry. Look
for your invite in the mail!” Click.
Mr. James Peddleton was
speechless. He let his cell drop out of his hand and smash on the ground. It
was a cheap flip phone from a very evil and cheap department store. Well at least I still have my raise today, thought
Mr. James Peddleton.
“Son of a bitch! Did you guys
see this?” said a woman with a very high pitched voice and a robust waist. Her
and a bunch of other workers were standing around a bulletin board looking at a
past. The factory generally used this board to post good news for the business.
This peeked Mr. James
Peddleton’s curiosity. He made his way through the crowd to see the post which
read:
UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE ALL ANNUAL PERCENTAGE RAISES
ARE CANCELLED. THANK YOU. MANAGEMENT.
“At least we still have our
jobs.” Whimpered a slender black man to Mr. James Peddleton.
Mr. James Peddleton just
smiled, “You aint kidding brother. At least there’s that I guess. What a great
job. A great job.”
The rest of the day went by
in a blur for Mr. James Peddleton. He tried to keep up a positive demeanor
despite this frustrating news. When he got out to drive home his mind started
racing. Over the years the factory had cost him a lot of things now, come to
think of it. A marriage. A chance at his dream job. A life he wasn’t constantly
trying to convince himself that he was happy. Happy. Happy? What a strange word
thought Mr. James Peddleton. Had he ever really experienced the word? The true
meaning? He remembered back to when he was seven. His parents were taking him
and his sister to the drive-in theater. Mr. James Peddleton remembered
thinking, this is pure happiness. As
this thought occurred to him he heard the sound of someone screaming. He
thought, who the hell screams at ‘Lady
and the Tramp’? That’s when he realized it was him. He snapped back to
reality and stopped screaming. Looking at his hands he realized he had gripped
his steering wheel bloody tight. “I want to go to the drive-in theater.” He
said.
He looked around to see where
he was. It was the parking lot. Mr. James Peddleton had driven himself off the
lot and somehow had ended right back in his spot. Curious. Looking at the door
he was filled with conviction. It’s time
I gave them a piece of my mind, he thought. Closing his car door he began
walking toward the factory, again. Walking through the halls a strange eerie
feeling filled the place. Where he was heading was the main office, the head
honcho’s , the big Kahuna’s case de big head chief. When he reached the door he
stood still for a moment, taking it all in. This was his moment.
Over the years this office
had seen many visitors. It was the office of Thomas DeLaney, a business school
graduate who had made his way up the ranks. Thomas hadn’t been afraid over the
years to cut a few corners. He had basked himself in Epicurean delights. There
had been foreign profiteers, investors and the occasional green card bride.
Many a time he had had to let go of one or two American workers, preferring the
cheap labor rates he was able to offer immigrants and refugees. Thomas had
never truly thought of what he was doing as evil, it was just business.
Mr. James Peddleton almost
knocked. No. This time he didn’t deserve a knock. A knock is for someone you
respect. No, Mr. James Peddleton just walked right in. The office was filled
with lavish delights form across the globe. Mr. James Peddleton took notice of
his surroudings. Thomas was just finishing up signing a contract. A tall man
with hair, wild and untamed stared at him, this man wore an all red suit. A
deep red. A blood red. “Oh Thomas. Thomas I believe you have a visitor.” Said
the man in the red suit.
Thomas looked up, he was
sweaty but smiling as he did, “Sorry son, not now. I’m in the middle of a
contract signing.” Thomas DeLaney was around fifty and showing it not one bit
(trade secret).
The man in the red suit
smiled slyly, “No Thomas, I believe we’re all set here.” He took the contract
rolled it up and put it in his pocket. “What was your name sir?”
Mr. James Peddleton puffed up
his chest, “Mr. James Peddleton sir.” They shook hands, “And I’ve come to talk
with Mr. DeLaney.”
“Talk? Hmm, yes of course. Well
Mr. Peddelton my name is Mr. Lucien as Mr. DeLaney knows me.” With that Mr.
Lucien walked out of the office.
“Have a seat Mr. Templeton.”
Said Thomas as he pointed to a chair, “What can I help you with?”
“It’s Peddleton sir. Mr.
James Peddleton.”
Thomas
coughed to clear his throat, “Right. Right. Well John what can I do for your?”
Mr. James Peddleton winced at
the misunderstanding of his name, “Well sir I was wondering why all the annual
raises were suddenly cut this year. A lot of people depend on those Mr.
DeLaney. A lot of people. And it’s James.”
Mr. DeLaney walked over to
his window out looking the smoke stacks from his factory, “The world’s changing
Templeton. America’s economy is shit. Our workforce is continually getting
lazier and our people fatter and stupider. While overseas our foreign
competitors are thriving in a dead market. So I’m selling the plant.”
“Selling the plant?!” Mr.
James Peddleton stood up at this, “All of the factories? Where will they go?
What will happen to all of the people who work here? Where will-where will they
go?!” At this point he was right up next to Thomas.
Thomas turns right around and
looks at Mr. James Peddleton square in the eyes smiling like the Grinch, “I
don’t care.”
As they stared at each other
deep, Mr. James Peddleton’s fists clenched tight, the veins in his neck
pulsating. The door opened up and in popped Mr. Lucien’s head, “Anyone for some
soothing chamomile tea?” asked Mr. Lucien.
They both turned and looked
at him without changing their expression. Mr. Lucien smiled, “No? Okay just me
then.” With that he popped back out.
Thomas DeLaney turned and
walked back sitting at his desk turned toward Mr. James Peddleton, “it’s a dog
eat cat, eat hamster world Mr. John Templeton. And I’m a lion.” He smiled
snidely.
That is the point when Mr.
James Peddleton simply could not take any more. He idled closer and closer to
his boss, his oppressor, till they were nose to nose. Thomas DeLaney just
continued smiling as if he knew something Mr. James Peddleton did not.
“It’s Mr. James Peddleton.
Mr. James Peddelton!” Mr. James Peddleton grabbed onto his boss’s tie and began
to strangle him while shaking him wildly. He screamed his own name over and
over again, “Mr. James Peddleton! Mr. James Peddleton!” As the strangling went
on he disappeared in his mind, he was back to the drive-in, he was happy. A
smile began dancing across his face.
A knock came at the door, he
looked toward it as Mr. Lucien walked in, his vision blurred. Mr. James
Peddleton’s hands and fingers were covered in blood and eye juice. Looking over
to the body of Mr. Thomas DeLaney he realized that at some point during the
strangling he had jabbed his thumb into his dear dead boss’s eyes. That didn’t
seem to matter, he just kept smiling. All was right. He no longer felt like he
was holding anything in, his stress was relieved.
Mr. Lucien walked closer to
the body, examining it, “Gee you really went all kinds of iguana crap cookoo on
him didn’t you?” He plopped himself onto the dead man’s lap and propped his
feet on the desk.
“Who are you? Really.” Asked
Mr. James Peddleton still smiling.
“Oh me? You people have so
many names for me I can never pick one. Although here in the states you pretty
much agree on one name for me. Give you a hint, I have a lot of daddy issues.”
Smiled coyly, Mr. Lucien.
“Were you in a band or
something?”
At this, Mr. Lucien dropped
his feet and his jaw, “You’re kidding right? I’m you know, Lucifer. Fallen
angel and all that. Getting my jollies from messing with you folk. Can’t
actually make you do anything but hey, I can set some poop up. No, I have no
more control over you than that stupid rabbit trying to get those children’s cereal
does in convincing you they’re delicious. I think they taste like butt.”
“It was all a test?” asked
Mr. James Peddleton.
“A test? No. A joke dumbass.
And your’e the punchline chucko. Funny, eh?” said Lucifer.
“Not really. So am I going to
Hell now?”
The Devil scoffed, “Are you
dead genius? No. This carcass I’m sitting on however? Yes. No, no Hell for you.
I did call the cops though.”
“The Devil called the cops on
me? But didn’t make me kill this man.”
“Pretty much. They’ll be here
any minute now. Wanna order a pizza? I’m starving. Oh how rude of me. You’ll
probably be gone before it gets here. Oh well.” He picked up the phone, “I
wonder if they have diet coke.”
ONCE
UPON A FOX
Written
by
Mike
D. Burke
One
day I sat upon a bench
From
the bushes came a red fox
My
ice cream in hand that I did wrench
He
smiled coyly like a Jester that mocks
My
eyes became very suspicious
As
he looked from left to right
Which
made it hard to focus on my delicious
For
it seemed he was checking who was in sight
I
began to lick slower as I thought
When
he raised his paw as if to say, ‘stop’
Like
he knew what I would say would be for naught
Hw
walked slowly and sat on the bench with a hop
The
next thing he did took me by surprise
He
crossed his legs and took out his pipe
Looking
at me as lit his tobacco, droll in his eyes
It
seemed the moment was far from ripe
He
looked to sky and let out a breath
I
looked to him and this is what I said,
“I
wouldn’t share my ice cream with you even if it was meth.”
The
fox just blew out some smoke and scratched his fur, so red
He
shook his head and sighed as he spoke,
“You
know, I knew your Aunt Sue.”
Realizing
he could speak I started to choke,
The
fox couldn’t have known her, she lives in Kalamazoo
“It
can’t be,” I said, “Unless, Venice?”
My
ice cream was melting and the fox could see this
“Yes,”
he laughed, “The two of us were quite a menace.”
My
brain went fuzzy and I lost my bliss
I
laughed and continued to lick
The
fox was sly, but I wasn’t going to fall for his swindle
He
was very sly and conniving like a, like a, sick
What
was it? Oh yes, a fox! A fox with a kindle
“Do
you have a kindle?” I asked quite unsure
He
scoffed and replied, “I have a nook.”
“Well
excuse me, sir!”
I
rolled my eyes and said, “Still not sharing my ice cream, crook.”
“So
you say, so you say.” He laughed and sighed
Then
he popped on his tail and began to juggle
This
awesomeness left my tongue tied
He
laughed and called me a muggle
With
a swift kick to my face
I
lost my pose and air
The
blow making me, my ice cream displace
The
fox caught it with dashing flare
I
fell off the bench
The
fox ran into the woods
My
desert desires never to quench
And
that’s how I lost my damn ice cream to a stupid, talking, juggling fox.
Jerk.
A STRANGE OCCURRENCE
Written by
Mike
D. Burke
You
know that feeling that someone is staring at you from behind? However when you
turn around and look, no one is
even looking in your direction? Yeah, well, this isn’t just a feeling I’m
getting…I’m actually being stared at.
Now
I’m not one to complain, I’ve been stared at before. Usually it’s nothing big,
I just brush it off but this was different. I mean holy shit! She’s burning a
hole in my back for Christ’s sake. Who is she? New girl must be, pretty good
looking too. I suppose I’m an attractive guy? Maybe I should go talk to her,
nah, no. Too easy. I know she must be sending me some kind of Morse code
through her look, that’s got to be it. It would really help if I was a
telepath, so much for that though. Man it would be really cool If I was a
telepath. Ooh, ooh! Focus she’s getting up. Wait what’s she doing? She’s, shit
she’s coming toward me! Damn look at her walk…Heh. What’s this? She walks
passed me and drops a note on the table? Who is she with these swift moves?
Guess
I better open this folded up secret note on wrinkly pink paper. Hmm, she has
cute handwriting. This message is strange:
9:45 Baseball Field
You+me. No one else.
Be there or miss FATE’S window.
Curious Aren’t you? Daved?
XOXOXO
What
the Hell is this all about? A guy goes to lunch in the cafeteria of his college
and expects a normal lunch. No surprises. Then someone turns the whole “no
surprises” switch off and this happens? Well what can I do but try to figure
this girl out a little more. Hmm, she spelt my name wrong though. DAVED instead
of David. Weird.
Let’s
see her; she’s about five-two, brunette with red highlights, rounded face but
not chubby, good teeth, thin high eyebrows, straight nose and red eyes…Say now
there’s something odd. She has red eyes? Contacts maybe? Red eyes aren’t
exactly a normal eye color. In any case; um, she seems to be fairly well off
judging from her clothing, athletic build but as the British would say, fit.
She has a certain air about her, an air of mystery and confidence. Do I have
any classes with her? It’s hard to think, damn history teacher won’t shut up.
Hold the-what the hey?! There she is in the second row from the front in the
lecture hall. Has she always been in this class? How could I not have noticed
her before?
Seems
to be the case. “Mr. Bell!” yells Mr. Conrad, my history professor catching me
off guard.
“Yes
Conrad?” I reply.
“Mr. Bell I would appreciate it if you would actually pay attention for
once in class. After all it’s your money.”
“And
I would like to sleep one night without worrying about a surprise test in her
but here I am, part insomniac.” A few laughs escape from some of the students
around me. I smile.
“Very
funny Mr. Bell. Now then, since you like surprises so much here is a question
for you.”
“Oh
boy, you’re tickling my fancy.”
“Do you know how vexing you are? In what year
did what is known as the New Empire occur and by what two pharaohs did Egypt
extend her rule to Asia as far as the Euphrates? Do you know, David Bell?”
Okay
this is a bit of a curve ball, we weren’t even talking about Egypt. We were
discussing the Neolithic era but whatever. When you’re a history enthusiast
like myself you remember these things between tennis practice and Abbott and
Costello films.
“Tough
one old Conrad, tough one. The New Empire as it is known to Egyptologists
happened around sixteen-hundred b.c. And as for the extended rule of Egypt, it
was due to Pharaoh Thothmes the third and Amenophis the third. Good enough for
you?” My answer appeases him easier than I thought it would.
I
know I’m pushing my luck with my professor but I don’t really feel that it
matters. Like nothing matters except for my dreams and how I get there. A
little Machiavellian I know, but that’s how I think. Well for right now anyhow.
I look at the clock and it’s just about the end of this class. Then I can go
home and relax before this FATE-full meeting on the field of dreams.
“Mr.
Bell?” My professor stops me as I’m heading for the door.
“Yes,
sir. Look I’m sorry about my behavior. Today’s just a little strange for me.” I
respond to the look he’s giving me.
“That’s fine Mr. Bell, I’m not worried about
that.” Clearly I’m no good at reading faces. A man of extreme intelligence and
a keen observer. Such the like I think of myself, seems I need a little more
practice. “Is something a little off today for you? You don’t seem your usual
self my boy.” He reads me keenly.
“I’m
not sure. I just have this feeling I’m blowing on fate’s wings without control.
Like I’m compelled by destiny’s light to follow a certain path. However today,
for the first time another trail has come to me and I’m at a crossroads. I
don’t know which road to follow. Do I continue on the path I’ve been following
or do I take a step toward this new path?”
He
looks down for a moment then back to me. It seems like he’s contemplating how
to respond to this question. His black bushy eyebrows come to a crease on his
strained face full of experience. Professor Conrad is a robust man with plain
taste in suits. He has a slight accent, whether it’s Russian or a really deep
voiced Italian one I’m not sure. His mouth opens and he starts in, “David you
remind me of a saying or two by the philosophers, ‘Do our ideals, hopes, acts
and wills mean anything in the universe? Is it true as some hold, that we come
from the unknown, are buffeted around by forces which we have no control, and
at last return to the unknown?’ Now whether you believe in this saying is your
own creed. However, If you take in to context that nothing is certain in
thought until it becomes action then enters a new belief but an old one. You
believe in free will, yes? Well there you have it, every decision can be
changed in “thoughts” universe but in “actions” things are what they are. Just
keep that in mind, Bell.”
We
say our farewells and leave. I walk down the long hall, it’s about seven
o’clock. Only two in a half hours about till that meeting happens. Such a
strange girl she is, red eyes and all that. Maybe I should think about the
meanings behind those red eyes. I get in my jeep and start it up and drive
home. It only takes ten minutes to reach my street and two more to get out of
my jeep and into my house. Looks like my parents are out for the night. As I
turn the corner from my kitchen to the living room a figure jumps into my
peripheral vision. I step back instinctively and get a look one step back. Just
my Aunt Marie.
“Hey
Aunt Marie, where’s my parents? Out?” I say cautiously.
She
looks at me strangely for a minute and gauges my actions, “So you met her today
did you? Then you know of your lineage and the power of the autumn equinox
coming upon us.”
What
the Hell is she talking about?! I mean, huh? Met her? Does she mean the girl who gave me that cryptic note, “Met
who? What lineage and what power of the autumn equinox? I did get a strange
note from a girl today.”
“Azrali?
Red eyes? Red highlights?”
“Yeah that’s her! Hey wait how do you know her? What does she have to do
with all this?” I start to get really flustered.
“Go
out to that meeting place at the time you were given. Find out the truth in
lies. Except it and don’t push it away, I have to go now. Before they find out
I’ve spoken out of term.” She heads toward the back door still talking and
darting her head around like she is expecting an attack, “Go to her tonight
David!”
“Aunt
Marie?! Marie?!” she leaves and I’m left here standing, wondering what the
Hell’s going on.
Azrali?
What kind of name is that? Sounds Iranian or Babylonian. There must be some
meaning behind those red eyes even more that I thought. What could Aunt Marie
mean by my lineage? What does all this have to do with the autumn equinox? How
the Hell does one day complicate my life this much? On the bright side this is
kind of cool if I really think about it. Then again what if it’s really
dangerous knowing all this information. My life, those around me could be in
danger.
I
have to find out tonight. Red eyes, red eyes. What could that symbolize? A
vampire maybe? Blood lust and all that. Or maybe a demon of some sort, trying
to tempt my soul? Curious, aren’t you? The
letter said that. What time is it? I look to the nearest clock, a microwave
clock. Eight fifteen. Time flies when you’re slapped in the face with new
possibly dangerous information that still seems really cool to you. What do I
do? I don’t want to get eaten or turned into a vampire or have my soul tempted
by some possibly wicked scary demon in hot-girl’s clothing. God’s on my side
though. Yeah I’m slightly protected that way.
Of
course, I mean, my Aunt wouldn’t send me off to my death would she? Or my
damnation? Then again she seemed
a little pottsie today, like all her marbles weren’t together. If I just had
some clue to figure this out. The only lead I have is the meeting with Azrali
tonight. I am curious, I am.
Nine
fifteen, screw it I’m going now. Whether to my death, damnation or heritagal
destiny I got to I do not know. But I know one thing. I am curious.
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