Here Be Monsters

Part 3 of the Murky Depths Saga, dedicated to my buddy Michelle. Enjoy, kiddo! Everyone else, feel free to leave some feedback. I know it's not the best. Just dabbling in a little sumpin sumpin.

FYI, while I was writing this, I was totally envisioning Seamus from Family Guy as the informant. If you don't know it, you need to Google it. Trust me.

******
The quote:
"Tread carefully, my friend. Here be monsters."
***

Michaels returned to his desk moments later. The meeting with Benton had gone better than expected. He and Benton had come out of Quantico together and had become fast friends. However, once Benton started moving up the ranks, he became, for lack of a better word, a douche. Michaels had fully expected to be ripped apart, sewn back together and ripped apart again merely for asking for this case. Maybe Benton had really meant it when he called Michaels one of his best agents.

Michaels dropped into his desk chair and was about to drop the folder he still held when he noticed a scrap of paper, set neatly on the blotter, square in the center on his desk. Carefully, as though he expected it to shrivel up and disappear the moment he touched it, Michaels picked up the paper by the corner and held it to his face. The handwriting was somewhat sloppy and jagged, but after a few moments of squinting of differing degrees, he deciphered,

"The Peg Leg, NOON."

Michaels looked at his watch. It was 11:33. If he left now, he might make it.

**

At 11:55 Michaels was throwing the car into a parking spot and at 11:57 he was stumbling through the front door of the pub by the docks, notorious watering hole of local sailors and ship hands. The door swung shut behind him and he looked around, suddenly realizing he had no idea who or what he was supposed to look for.

A flash of light from the darkened corner in the back of the room caught his eye, and he looked to see a toughened, older gentleman seated in a small booth, nursing a glass half-full of a dark liquid. His skin almost looked like wrinkled leather from a life-long tan. He couldn't have been more stereotypical, sitting there with a bandana wrapped around his head and patch over his left eye. The flash he had seen was the glint of light reflecting off of the hook that sat in place of a right hand as he beckoned for Michaels' attention.

Was this the guy who left the note? If he wrote it with the hook, that sure would explain the messy handwriting.

Curiosity perked, Michaels approached the weathered old man and paused in front of the table.

"Agent Michaels," was his cantankerous greeting just before raising the glass to his chapped lips with his good hand and taking a large swig. He dropped the empty glass to the table and gestured to the empty chair opposite him.

Michaels sat. "Who are you?"

"Not important," he answered gruffly, not dropping his gaze from Michaels' eyes. "What's important is that ye have no idea what yer about to get involved in, young man."

"Do you know something about these missing people?"

The man shook his head. "Not the missing people."

"Or the reason they're missing?"

The man leaned back in his chair and scratched his ear with his hook before pointing it at Michaels. "Do ye have any idea what lives in those waters?"

"I have a feeling you're about to enlighten me."

"A creature, of sorts. Got a mouth the size of a skiff. Teeth as long as your arm and sharp as razors. Tentacles that reach out from the deepest waters and capsize the largest of ships."

"Sounds like the myths and legends I've been hearing since I was a kid," Michaels said.

"Nay," the man grunted. "She's as real as sure as the tides rise with the moon."

"So you're telling me there's a giant quid swimming around Lake Ontario and eating the local townsfolk?"

"No one knows what she is." The man's voice had dropped to nearly a whisper and Michaels leaned across the table to hear him.

"Have you seen it?"

"Seen it?" The old man barked out a laugh and leaned back in his chair. "How do ye think I got like this?" he reached down and tapped his wooden leg with his hook-hand. "Mind you now, there'll be lots o' folk gettin' their britches in a twist if this became public knowledge."

"Why is it suddenly eating the locals?"

The old man shrugged. "Whatever she was eating probably ain't as available as it were. So, she's coming closer to shore and mistaking people fer fish."

"The shoreline needs to be closed, we need to-"

"Ain't no 'we,' Agent Michaels. My nose is keeping clear o' this mess."

Michaels nodded grimly. He should have expected as much. He rose from the table and turned to leave when his acquaintance stopped him with a warning.

"Tread carefully, my friend," the old man said. "Here be monsters."



********
If anyone cares, this quote was taken from a conversation I was having with my friend Lori, who was about to diss my beloved X-Files. Ha! Sure showed her. 


Hope you're enjoying!
Leave some love!
Ren

A Challenge Lies Ahead

Part Two of the Murky Depths Saga.


"Two bodies, and two still outstanding," Michaels said, tossing a file onto the desk.

The man sitting on the other side, late forties, balding with glasses, opened the file and began perusing the papers inside. The plaque on the forward edge of his desk identified him as Special Agent in Charge Jack Benton.

"Boating accidents?" Benton suggested after a moment.

Michaels immediately shook his head in the negative. "One of the victims disappeared from the shoreline. And the injuries on the two recovered bodies aren't consistent with propeller blades. They've been completely mangled. They show signs of what might possibly be bite marks-"

"So you're going with an animal attack." Michaels just looked back at his superior, who sighed. "It's a local matter."

"The local authorities won't properly investigate this," Michaels insisted. "Word of an out of control, hungry beast lurking within the depths of Lake Ontario would kill tourism. In a community that relies on tourism for it's economical welfare. Come on, Jack. Give me this."

Benton nodded and closed the file, sliding the folder back across the desk.

"Look, Wolf, you're a good agent, one of my best," Benton said. He sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Are you sure about this?"

Michaels nodded. "Absolutely."

Jack nodded again. "Okay." He dropped his hand and met Michaels' eyes. "Quite the challenge lies ahead of you."

Michaels picked up the folder and placed it under his arm. "I'm ready for it."
***************************

Short and sweet. Not too much going on here, just setting up some characters. The next part will have some mystery and may actually be interesting! As always, please leave a comment, even if you hated it and especially if you liked it!

Ren

In The Murky Depths

For Michelle:

The body was nearly unrecognizable as a body. Never mind as the body of 19 year old Alicia Marshall. The only giveaway was the tattered remains of clothing that matched what she was last seen in. And even so, DNA tests would have to be done to confirm the identity before the investigation went anywhere.

Alicia Marshall was the fourth person to go missing on or near Lake Ontario this summer, and now presumably the second body to surface, no pun intended. The other two were still outstanding and barring a boater coming across them floating in the vast lake, it was unlikely they would ever be found.

Special Agent Wolf Michaels stared down at the horribly mangled body at his feet. It was said that these lakes, really more like small oceans, harbored such creatures as bull sharks and sperm whales. Of course, it was an ongoing debate, but honestly, who's to say what does or doesn't live in a lake as big as one of the Great Lakes. The last body, the locals had shrugged off as a boating accident. But now there was a second. That's why Michaels had been called in. Besides the fact he loved taking the "weird" cases, the brass wanted to preempt any oversights by the local investigators. These bodies were going to kill tourism, but that didn't excuse any less than stellar investigations.

Michaels continued to study the mess on the ground. A bloody, meaty mess of organs and bone. If he looked closely he could make out part of a lower intestine hanging from what must have been the torso. The limbs were completely severed and still missing. The head seemed to be attached but was mangled to the point of looking more like a hamburger patty than a skull. A rogue eyeball hung from the side.

He shook his head. The locals could say whatever they wanted to appease the tourists. But Michaels was sure that there was one horrifying truth about Lake Ontario: a killer lurked within it's murky depths.

Please don't be too brutal. It's just a little short. Michelle and I were walking along somewhere and I said something about "a killer lurks within it's murky depths." Michelle insisted I use it in a story, and so here we are. It's kind of X-Files-ish. It's real short and sweet. Intentionally. There's no character development, no plot, from a professional writer's standpoint, it sucks. But it's for Michelle. Hope you enjoyed the descriptions, at least! Mmmm, intestine!

Ren

I Got An Alien For Christmas

This story I wrote freshman year of college (circa Spring semester 2003) for a creative writing class. Got an A+! I've been looking everywhere for it for the last year or so and couldn't find it anywhere. I went to visit my parents this week and my mom had put aside a pile of my old stuff in the basement for me to sort through, and look what I found! A hard copy was set neatly inside an old school folder! I did a little editing, but it may still be a little rough, just so you're forewarned. Also, I tried to keep it in the voice of a 10 year old boy, but I might have lapsed into grown up lingo at a point or two. Just pretend he's a smart 10 year old.

The idea was inspired by a Christmas song that played at the KB Toys I worked at that year. It's called 'I Want An Alien For Christmas' by Fountains of Wayne. If you want to read the lyrics or listen to it you should be able to Google it. It's a cute song.

***

It was still dark out when I awoke that Christmas morning two years ago. My Buzz Lightyear clock said it was only 5:30, but my excitement got the better of me. I threw off my blankets and ran downstairs to the living room. In front of the big bay window, the tall evergreen sparkled with lights and tinsel. Then my eyes fell onto the presents. Dozens of packages sat in piles around the tree, the shiny wrapping paper reflecting the string of lights.

I sat down on the floor, staring up at the tree in wonder. I almost wanted the moment to last forever (except that i wanted to open all the presents), but it ended when something behind the tree moved. I jumped to my feet, ran to the wall and flipped up the light switch. All I saw was a big Christmas tree with lots of presents surrounding it. I cautiously moved forward, squinting into the tree branches. As I watched, one of the branches started to sway up and down!

Swallowing my fear, I made an attempt at bravado.

"He-hello?" I squeaked out. My throat was suddenly very dry. "Who's th-there?" Surely it couldn't be Santa back there, could it?

There was a sound that slightly resembled chipmunk chatter, and a hand slowly appeared from behind the tree. It was green and had three long, slender fingers. Then came the arm, and then a head. The head was also green, and was oval shaped with two antenna and... I did a quick count of all it's eyes. Seventeen, in all. Seventeen eyes across it's face. The eyes all blinked at once, the mouth below smiled, and it waved it's fingers at me. When it stepped entirely out from behind the tree, it was only about three feet high, a few inches shorter than I was. We stared at each other for a few minutes, then it floated off the floor and hovered, smiling down at me. This was way cooler than a bike or a basketball, or Aunt Edna's traditional ugly sweaters. I had gotten an alien for Christmas!

"What's your name?" I asked it.

"What's your name?" it asked back.

"Wayne," I said.

"Wayne," it said.

"Wow! Your name's Wayne, too? I've never met another Wayne before!"

Suddenly Wayne looked confused, but then smiled again and said, "Wayne."

I could hardly contain my excitement. "Wait till Mom and Dad see you! We're gonna have so much fun! We can hang around the house all day and watch The Twilight Zone, and then in the spring when it get nice, we can go for walks in the park! I can teach you how to skateboard and you can teach me how to fly!"

As Wayne smiled at me, still not saying anything back, I heard footsteps and then my Mom's voice.

"Wayne, who are you-" Then she screamed. She stood in the doorway to the living room looking up at Wayne, screaming. Wayne screamed back, echoing Mom's cry, and slowly lowered himself to the floor. Mom stopped screaming and fainted. Dad now stood there in the doorway looking stunned. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face.

"Santa sure was good to you, huh, Sport?"

"Sport," Wayne said.

I grinned. What was not to like?

***

For the rest of my week off from school, I did almost nothing but play with Wayne. I thought my Mom was going to have a heart attack when she saw us flying through the kitchen and up the stairs (Well, Wayne was really the one flying, and he was carrying me because I can't fly on my own). We played video games, and we had a snowball fight in the backyard, and we also built snowmen! Only Wayne's was more like a snow-alien. Then we had a cool New Year's Eve party, and Wayne and I got sparkling grape juice, and we were allowed to stay up past midnight! But when Wayne drank his juice, the fizz made him float up to the ceiling and he was stuck up there for almost half an hour before he finally belched and started to float back down to the floor. It reminded me of the Fizzy Lifting Drink in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.

The day after New Year's rolled around too quickly for me, and I had to wake up early and go back to school. I got out of bed and was getting ready when I noticed Wayne watching me, each of his seventeen eyes drowning behind walls of tears. His lower lip was quivering.

"I'm sorry, Wayne," I said. "You can't come to school with me. But I'll be back at three o'clock, I promise."

But instead of this cheering him up, he now started to bawl with his face hidden in his hands. I had no idea how I could cheer him up. I couldn't bring him, i just couldn't. He was way too big to fit in my book bag, and fourth graders didn't have lockers. What would I do with him all day?

An hour later, I was sitting at my desk at desk at school, casually waiting for class to start. The other kids kept looking at the desk next to me, then giving me strange looks. The teacher finally walked in (five minutes late, as usual), went straight to the front of the room, and looked out at the class. For a second, he looked like my mom had on Christmas, just before she'd fainted.

"Okay," Mr Carver said. "Has everyone brought something they got from Santa? Who wants to go first?"

That's right! I had forgotten all about show and tell day!

A girl with blond pigtails immediately shot her hand into the air with much enthusiasm. "Ooh! Ooh! Ooh! Pick me! Pick me, Mr Carver, please pick me!"

Mr Carver did and Pigtails jumped out from behind her desk, nearly knocking it over in her excitement.

"I got this!" she squealed. She held out her necklace for everyone to see. It was something that looked like it might be a key, only it had some kind of silvery-bluish glowing gemstone embedded in it. Everyone ogled at it.

"Keeeey," Wayne said, pointing at the shiny stone.

"That's very pretty," Mr Carver said. "What does it go to"

Pigtails shrugged. "I dunno," she said. "But I like it. It's shiny."

Mr Carver nodded. "So it is," he said. "All right, thank you Julie, you can take your seat. Who's next?" He was eyeing Wayne curiously. "Wayne! Why don't you introduce the class to your new friend?"

I stood up and led Wayne to the front of the room.

"This is Wayne," I said. "He showed up on Christmas, I found him hiding behind our tree. He's really cool! He knows how to fly!" Wayne floated up to the ceiling and glided around the room to demonstrate. "And he can move things without touching them!" Wayne pointed at the chalk and the white piece floated up and wrote out 'Greetings' on the blackboard. "And he's really, really good at Tony Hawk 4! He beat the whole game in an hour!"

Everyone was in awe, staring at the little green guy flying around the room.

"Does anyone have any questions?" Mr Carver asked the class. Every hand in the room shot into the air.

"Joey," I called out.

"What's he eat?" Joey asked.

"Everything, almost," I answered. "He really loves chocolate. When he drinks anything fizzy, like pop, he floats and can't get down again 'till he burps." I looked around for the next question and decided to choose Matt.

"Where's he from?"

I thought for a moment. "I don't know," I shrugged. "He's never said."

Wayne floated over to the window and pointed to the sky. "From," he said.

Next, I called on Brian.

"In Tony Hawk 4, how do you-"

"Mr Carver!" a girl up front with huge buck teeth whined. "Wayne is only calling on the boys!"

"All right Stephanie, what is your question?" Mr Carver asked her.

"Does he miss his family?"

Wayne looked back up at the sky. "Family," he said sadly. "Miss."

The room fell suddenly silent.

"Any more questions?" Mr Carver asked. When there was no answer, he said, "Okay, thank you, Wayne and Wayne. Cynthia, why don't you come up next?"

The rest of the day was very boring, hearing about the fire trucks, bikes, sleds and video games everyone else had gotten. I sat at my desk next to Wayne, longing for the end of the day when we could go out and play in the snow and drink hot chocolate. But when we got home, Wayne didn't want to play. Instead, he went right to bed and didn't even eat dinner. I tried to cheer him up, but he was really sad. He really missed his family.

"But we can be your family now," I tried to tell him.

But he just shut his teary eyes, rolled over, and cried a mournful, "Family. Miss."

***

As the winter went on and the days got sunnier and longer, Wayne seemed to be cheering up. I got him to play Tony Hawk with me, and I let him win the first couple times, but then he started getting cocky so I had to show him what I was made of. He still won.

Spring finally came, and as I had promised him months earlier, we went for walk in the park on a nice sunny Saturday afternoon. I brought two skateboards and convinced Wayne to try it out. The helmet was a little lopsided on his oval head, but the antenna poking through the holes in the top held it in place. He had a little trouble getting started (especially since his legs were really more like tentacles), but every time he was about to fall, he would fly up into the air before he hit the ground. That was one power I wished I had, because when we finally started back home, I had ripped my jeans and scraped both my hands, but Wayne didn't have a mark on him.

When we got home, a strange car was parked in the driveway. The license plate said FBA1. I immediately had a bad feeling.

"Wayne, go fly in through the window and hide in my room, okay?"

"Okay," Wayne said. He lifted off from the ground and flew to the back of the house.

I walked up to the front door and reached for the knob but it opened before I even started to turn it.

A man stood in the doorway, wearing dark sunglasses, a black suit, black tie, black shoes, and a white shirt, with a buzz cut. He looked like he'd just stepped out of the movie Men In Black.

"Wayne Thompson?" he asked.

I looked past him into the living room and saw another man dressed the exact same way, talking to my parents.

"Yeah, I'm Wayne," I answered.

"I'm Agent One, FBA," he said.

"FBA?" I asked.

"Federal Bureau of Alienation," he said. "Are you harboring an alien being here?"

"No," I lied. "Should I be?"

Agent One motioned me inside and closed the door. "On the night of December the 24th, an unknown alien craft made an emergency landing in the woods three miles from here," he said. "We haven't found the ship, but we believe the alien somehow climbed down your chimney. Since Christmas morning, we've had reports of an alien life form on and around these premises. Keeping an alien life form is in violation of the Intergalactic Harboring Treaty. We're here to collect said life form for debriefing and neutralization."

I didn't know exactly what he meant by that, but it didn't sound good.

"Well, there's no alien here," I said. "But I'll keep my eyes open for one."

The other agent came over. "They say there isn't any alien here," he said, motioning toward my parents.

"Thank you, Agent Two," Agent One said. "All right, folks. We're leaving. But if we receive any more intelligence about an alien in this area, we'll be back. That's a promise."

Dad followed them to the door, slammed it behind them, and turned to me.

He sighed before speaking. "I'm sorry sport. You've got to let him go."

"No! But Dad-"

"I'm sorry, Wayne, that's the way it has to be. You don't want these nuts from the FBA to get him, do you?"

"No," I mumbled.

"I'll go see if I can find his ship," Dad said sadly. "Maybe I can help him fix it."

I dragged my feet up the stairs to my room and slammed the door.

"Hide," I heard Wayne's muffled voice say. I opened the closet and a pile of stuffed animals spilled out, with Wayne on top. He grinned up at me. "Wayne hide!"

I sat down on my bed and watched Wayne stand up.

"I've got some bad news, buddy," I said.

"Bad news," Wayne repeated. He wasn't grinning anymore.

"You have to leave," I told him. "You can't stay with us anymore."

"Stay!" he insisted firmly. "Wayne stay!"

I shook my head. "You can't stay. It isn't safe. There are people looking for you. Bad people. We have to find your ship so you can go be with your family."

Wayne pointed at me. "Family."

"No, your real family." I pointed out the window to the sky.

"Miss Wayne," he said quietly.

"I'll miss you too, buddy."

It was quiet for a moment. Then Wayne yelled out, "Key!"

"Key? What key?" I asked.

"Key! Ship! Family!"

"You need a key for your ship?" I asked.

Wayne was very excited now. He grabbed me around the middle and took off out the window.

We'd never flown this fast or this high before. Houses hundreds of feet below zoomed by in a blur. Then, suddenly, Wayne began to drop down.

"Slow down, Wayne!" I yelled. "We're gonna-"

We hit the ground, hard, in someone's front yard and rolled a few feet before coming to a stop.

"-Crash," I finished. I jumped to my feet and looked around. We were in front of a big, white, three story house.

"Keeey," Wayne said, pointing to the front door.

"The key's in the house?"

"Keeey." He was still pointing.

I walked to the door and rang the bell. A grown-up lady opened it and looked down at me.

"Oh, you must be one of Julie's friends from school!" she said. "Oh, Julie!" she called over her shoulder. "One of your little friends is here to see you!"

Who was Julie? Did I know Julie?

A little blond girl with pigtails, wearing a shiny necklace bounced up to the door.

"Hi Wayne!" she greeted me.

"Julie?" I said uncertainly. Then it dawned on my. "Oh! Julie! Hi! You're in my class!"

Her face went from welcoming and excited, to perplexed. "Um. Yeah."

I grinned and leaned against the door jamb. "So, anyway. What's up?"

Her eyebrows scrunched. "You're the one who rang my doorbell, remember?"

"Keeey," said a voice from the bushes next to the door. I looked down to the side and saw several of Wayne's eyes looking up out of the shrubbery.

"Is that Wayne?" Julie asked.

Wayne came out from behind the bushes, pointing at Julie's necklace. "Keeey," he said again.

"Julie, I need your necklace," I said.

Her eyes popped huge and she grabbed the key that dangled from the chain protectively. "Why?"

"It's a long story," I said. "Please?"

"Ship," Wayne said. He took each of us by an arm and flew off again.

"Where's he taking us?" Julie screamed.

"To his ship!" I yelled back. "He's going home!"

Houses were becoming fewer and farther between, and a thickly wooded area was approaching. As we flew over the trees, I saw a gaping area, circular in shape, where the trees had been flattened. The area grew larger as Wayne went into a dive.

"Wayne!" I shouted. "Slow down! We're gonna crash! Again!"

We continued to dive, and at the last possible second Wayne righted himself, pointing his feet toward the ground and we stopped, hovering in midair two feet above the ground.

Wayne dropped us and grinned, pointing at his tentacle-like feet. "Airbrakes."

Julie turned around and gasped. "Wow. A spaceship."

I turned too, and saw a large pentagon shape embedded in the dirt at the end of a long skid.

"Keeey," Wayne said, pointing at Julie's necklace again.

"Your necklace is the key to his ship," I explained to her. "He needs it to get home to his family."

"But-"

"The FBA is going to get him if he doesn't leave!" She still hesitated. "Julie! Trust me!"

She finally took off her necklace and handed it to Wayne. He went to the ship and put the key into the center of the door and turned it. With a hiss, the door lifted up and a ramp lowered. Wayne stepped onto it, then paused and turned back.

"Wayne miss," he said. His eyes were wet again.

"I know," I said. "Me too."

He turned again and walked into the ship. The ramp raised and the door closed. The engine started and the ship hovered for a moment before slowly rising up above the tree line and taking off. We stood and watched him go until the tears in my eyes made it nearly impossible to pick out out the little blurry speck in the distant sky. I sniffed and quickly wiped my eyes. Julie put a hand on my shoulder.

"It'll be okay," she said. "He's going to be with his family now. Where he belongs."

***

It's been two years since I got that surprise for Christmas. Every time I look up at the sky, I think of Wayne. I don't think I'll ever forget that little green guy about three feet high, who had seventeen eyes and knew how to fly. And every Christmas I will be filled with the hope that when I run downstairs to open presents, I'll see some of Wayne's eyes peering out at me from behind the Christmas tree branches, and I can see my very best friend in the whole universe just one more time.

***

So there you have it. Thoughts? Comments help me improve and let me know that people are reading! You may also e-mail me if you don't want to leave a public comment, at rengoe84@gmail.com.

Thanks for reading!
Ren

The Mix Up

Welcome back!
I hope this little tidbit is to your liking. Just a little weirdness.
Leave me some love!
Ren


You are in the operating room and are slowly being put under to have your gall bladder removed. Just as you are dosing off, you notice the doctor entering the room isn't the doctor scheduled to operate on you. When you awake, your gall bladder is still there, but something else about you has been changed. Write this scene.

*****

I lay flat on the hard slab, staring up at the white ceiling, nearly blinded by the bright lights. Who would have thought that I would have ended up here. That a case of gallstones would have landed me in the operating room in Sandusky General.

All courses of treatment exhausted, Dr. Martin had said. This is our best option, he had assured me.

Well, maybe it was for the best. Hell, who really needs their gallbladder anyway? What does it even do? Yeah, I was going to be just fine when I woke up.

A sneaker scuffing the tiled floor nearby broke me from my inner monologue and I turned my head in time to see a plastic mask being lowered over my mouth and nose.

"Now remember what we talked about," the nurse told me patiently. "Just breathe normally. Can you count backward from a hundred?"

"100," I began. I sounded muffled to myself. "99." I watched her check the tubes running from my arm to an IV drip that hung above my head. "98." She pushed a few buttons on the heart monitor. It was becoming more difficult to speak properly. My tongue seemed to weigh fifty pounds. "Niiiiiinety-sthevfen," I managed to slur out. I could feel the anesthesia kicking in. It wouldn't be long now.

"Is our patient ready?" a jovial voice boomed from across the room. I turned my head and when I saw the doctor, ready to go in green scrubs and a bandana, about to put his paper face mask on, the '96' caught in my throat.

"Wait!" I tried to shout, only to my ears it sounded more like a muffled "Wwawwaaaww."

And as my vision rapidly blurred, before I completely passed out, the words I had tried so hard to utter passed repeatedly through my mind: That's not my doctor.

*****

My mouth was dry. That was the most prominent sensation occupying my mind. On top of whatever other discomforts I knew I was about to start experiencing, I had a severe case of cotton mouth.

I struggled for a moment or two to open my eyes. Finally, they began to flutter, and from a flutter I was able to blink against the blinding lights. I squinted around at my surroundings. I was in a private hospital room. I could hear the sharp, steady beep of the heart monitor and was pleased to see the IV was already out of my arm. I glanced to my left and saw a pink plastic pitcher and a matching plastic cup set out on the bedside table. I reached for the cup but as I did my arm brushed something protruding from my chest.

That couldn't be right.

I pulled my arm back and looked down at myself. The bed sheet was pulled up to my armpits, but there was no mistaking the bulge where my chest was. Hesitantly, I reached up and gripped the edge of the sheet. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, an attempt to mentally prepare myself for what I might see.

An attempt, because nothing could have prepared me for what lay beneath when I yanked the cover back.

Breasts. Two large breasts were wrapped in medical gauze, sitting on my chest. They had to be D's, maybe even double D's. One word ran around my mind.

No.

This couldn't be! How had this happened! My gallbladder was supposed to come out! Was this a two for one special? Did they even take my gallbladder? What am I supposed to do with a pair of breasts?

The door to my room swung open and a nurse walked in carrying a tray with juice and jello and wearing a smile.

"Oh good, you're awake!" she noticed cheerfully. "How are you feeling, Mr. Murphy?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PS. This is my first story and post written entirely on my brand spanking new iPad 2! This Relationship is going to work out juuuuuuust fine, I do believe.
Until next time,
Ren

The Visit

Hello loyal readers!

So that was a nice two month hiatus, eh? I had an extraordinarily boring detail last night, sitting alone in a tiny booth, pushing one button to lower a barrier, and pushing another to raise it back up. So I had a lot of free time. This is how I spent it. Except for the two hours when Michelle came to visit with chicken wings from the bar :)

The Prompt: You always look out the dark windows into the sky and wonder what’s out there. One night when you look, a small face with bright eyes is staring back. What do you do, who/what is it, and why are they there?

www.writersdigest.com/writingprompts

My Story:

Megan was bored. Every day she led the same routine. Wake up, go to school, come home, have dinner with parents, go to bed. And fit homework in there somewhere. Every day it was the same, never wavering. So it was no wonder that day dreaming was a favorite pastime for the twelve year old. It was pretty much the one thing that could break up the monotony of her day.

Her favorite place to pass the time in such a manner was perched on the windowsill of her bedroom window, staring up at the dark sky sprinkled with millions of bright, twinkling stars.

That’s where Megan sat now. After a particularly tense dinner, during which mother chose to bring up a recent discussion with Megan’s teacher concerning Megan’s chronic day dreaming habit, Megan quickly escaped to the quiet solitude of her bedroom. She could barely even call it her bedroom. Mother had decorated (or not decorated it, which may be more fitting) and it lacked any sort of personal touch. The walls were painted a dull mauve and were devoid of any hangings. The carpet was grey and the bedspread matched the walls.

But the view; that’s the one thing Megan loved about her room. When she looked out her window to the unobstructed sky, she felt free, as though she could do anything, go anywhere, the possibilities were endless.

Megan sighed lightly as she gazed longingly at the stars now. She unwound the tight bun of bright orange hair that rested on top of her head as she tried to imagine what else might be out there, possibly gazing back at her and wondering the same thing.

She picked up her hairbrush from the dresser that stood a few feet from her perch and began to gently brush out her long hair, pausing briefly to mentally complain about how the bright orange clashed horribly with the fuchsia hue of her skin. Why couldn’t she be blue-skinned like her best friend Kelsey? Even green would go better with her color hair than (gag) fuchsia.

Then she wondered if beings from other worlds agonized over the same problems. Surely not. Aliens must be so carefree. What would they have to worry about, living on exotic, unimaginable worlds?

Megan lowered her eyes from the sky and came back to reality. And gasped as her heart stopped. Outside her window, staring back at her from the sill, was a small face, with bright, green, glowing eyes.

She blinked. And blinked again. The face remained. But now, the longer she looked at it, the more she saw. The face came attached to a little body, which clung to the outside windowsill and seemed to be dressed up in some kind of suit. From head to foot, the entire creature could barely be half of Megan’s height. And the bright eyes, they didn’t seem to be eyes at all, but part of some kind of mask. Why they were glowing, Megan hadn’t the first clue.

A scream bubbled up in Megan’s throat, but she quickly dropped the forgotten hairbrush and covered her mouth with both hands to stifle the noise as she jumped to her feet. Part of her wanted to run screaming from her sanctuary. But then, isn’t this what she’d been wanting? Something new and exciting to interrupt her boring life? Granted, this little person with the glowing mask might not bring excitement into her life per se, but it certainly was new, and definitely different.

Megan lowered her hands and forced herself into calm before slowly opening the window.

“H-Hello-o,” she stammered out nervously.

“Hello,” the little person responded. The voice sounded odd, unnatural. It sounded fake and almost seemed to echo slightly. “Please excuse my appearance. I cannot survive in your climate and must wear this suit to live. I am from a planet called Earth, several light years away. I have been sent on a mission to find life on other planets.”

Megan’s jaw involuntarily fell open. A million questions flashed through her head at once, but the one she settled on was, “How can you speak my language?”

“We have been studying your planet covertly for some time now. I am using an electronic translator to communicate with you. The similarities between our races are astounding. We are looking for volunteers to come back with us for further information exchange.”

“Back?” Megan asked. “To your… Earth?”

“Yes, my planet. We have created an environment chemically similar to yours so that you won’t suffocate in our world.”

Megan looked at the little person hanging from her windowsill while she debated this invitation. Information exchange? So she would get to learn about a whole other planet, firsthand and not from books? Did she really have to think about this?

No. She didn’t.

Grinning, she said, “Let me just pack a bag.”

**

Poor Megan. If only she knew how horrible Earthlings are. Because you know she ended up dissected on a lab table.

I know it's kind of nerdy and lame, but hopefully typos are at a minimum and you found some kind of entertainment value. There is a companion piece. The next writing prompt just seemed to go hand in hand with this one. It just needs to be typed and proofread so hopefully I should have it up soon.

Leave some love!

Ren

Clowning Around

Prompt: You wake up in a darkened circus tent, wearing a bright blue and yellow clown costume and a fluffy red wig. There is a dwarf standing over you with a bucket of water. “You okay?” he asks.

 **

Of one thing,at least, I was sure. I was uncomfortable. My eyes were closed, but I was sure I was lying flat on a hard surface. It felt like a hard, dirt floor. Why would I be on a dirt floor?

I finally coaxed my eyes into fluttering open. My head was pounding.

What happened?

Looking directly above me, I saw wires and pulleys and platforms, underneath a huge, blue and yellow striped tent. That’s right. The circus. My birthday. Trespassing.

I heard shuffling next to me and slowly turned my head to the left. There was a small man, reminiscent of the Lollipop Guild, approaching, wearing a flannel plaid shirt underneath overalls and holding a big, blue, plastic bucket.

“Hey,” he squeaked nasally. “You okay?”

I closed my eyes as the memories came rushing back.

I had wanted to do something extreme for my thirtieth birthday. Something epic. Something not likely to be forgotten before my fortieth birthday, at which point we would somehow top this stunt and keep everyone talking for yet another decade.

Just our luck, the circus had come into town this week. And I wanted to play on the trapeze.

Eight of us had walked into the big top to find a group clowns juggling pins, squirting seltzer at each other, and balancing on top of giant balls. We hadn’t expected anyone to be in there at that time of night. As we turned to leave, a voice stopped us.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

We slowly turned to see the ringmaster, dressed in a tux complete with top hat, staring at us.

I, apparently, was the bravest in our group.

“We didn’t realize practice was going on,” I said. “Sorry.”

“Practice?” he laughed. “Oh, nonsense, this is a party! Will you join us?” He seemed almost hopeful.

I hesitated for a moment. Then I said with a grin, “Well, it is my birthday.”

So we partied and drank and learned to juggle (almost), and all were merry. Until a loud, shrieking, blood-curdling, scream pierced the air. A deafening silence fell over the performers, as the ringmaster ran in from an adjacent tent, screaming, “THE LION IS LOOSE!”

Panic ensued. Everyone ran in every direction possible.

I froze.

A large, orange cat, with a large, wavy mane sauntered into the tent, stopped, and stared at me.

He growled.

I ran.

I knew I would never make it to safety, but I had to try. The opening of the tent grew closer and closer. I could taste escape. I turned to gauge the buffer zone between us. Not far enough. I turned forward again just in time to see a metal ladder mere feet in front of me. I couldn’t stop in time.

I slammed into the ladder and bounced off, landing on the floor, just as the lion leapt, missing me by inches.

Gasping for air, I forced myself to my feet. The lion turned to face me, his huge, wet tongue licking his lips, whetting appetite. We stared each other down for a moment. The he charged. Having no other option, I jumped onto the ladder and climbed. I climbed fast, hand over hand, foot over foot. I heard the lion lunge below me. Halfway up, I stopped and looked down. I knew there was no way he could reach me, but that didn’t stop him from trying. He leapt onto the ladder and fell off over and over. As his massive form repeatedly impacted on the ladder, however, the ladder began to sway. I looked up and that the screws attaching the ladder to the trapeze platform above were loosening with every hit. I’d soon be back on the ground, a fresh meal, free for the taking.

I had only one option. It looked like I would be getting my birthday wish to play on the trapeze after all.

There was another shudder as the giant cat below rammed the ladder once again. I scrambled the rest of the way up, and threw myself onto the platform. The structure continued to shake and weaken as I stood, staring at the menacing bar in front of me.

Nervously, I reached out and timidly detached it from its resting place. I wrapped my fingers tightly around the bar and closed my eyes.

With one last shudder, I felt the platform fall away from my feet and I held on to the trapeze for dear life as I felt myself drop, and then suddenly jerk to a stop, dangling high above the lion.

“Here kitty, kitty, kitty!” The ringmaster had re-entered the tent, waving a fat, raw steak in front of him, like a bullfighter waving his red flag. The lion caught the scent immediately, licked his chops twice, and ran to the treat. The ringmaster turned and ran back the way he’d come, the lion close on his heels.

“Swing!” a different voice called.

I looked up to see a woman swinging on the other trapeze.

“You have to swing to me!” she called out to me. “I’ll catch you!”

I looked down at the ground, which seemed even further below me than it had before. It was worth a shot, I finally decided. What other choice did I have? Hang out here until the fire department showed up?

I swung my body back and forth, slowly building up the momentum. The acrobat opposite me synched herself up so that we would meet in the middle. My swings became wider and soon we were coming within inches of each other.

“On this next one, let go,” she yelled. “I’ll catch your legs.”

I watched her switch position while the trapeze continued to swing, like a giant pendulum. She now dangled from her knees, head hanging down.

We swung out, slowed, and swung back toward each other.

“Ready?”

A little further…

“Now!”

I shut my eyes, said a quick prayer, and let go. I felt fingers wrap around my ankles as we swung back toward her platform. Then I heard a grunt, followed by a curse, and I felt my left ankle slip free. I was now swinging fifty feet in the air, hanging by only my right ankle!

But we were almost there. Only a few more feet…

“Shit!”

The exclamation came from my would-be savior, as I suddenly felt myself plummeting toward the ground below.

Ice cold water soaking me from head to toe snapped me back to the present. My eyes flew open and I sat up, glaring at the dwarf.

“What the hell was that for?” I shrieked, now shivering on top of aching.

“I thought you were passing out,” he squeaked.

I shook my head, slowly. “No. Just remembering.”

“You’re lucky you weren’t killed, you know,” he said.

I inspected myself for serious injury, noting the outfit I was wearing was not the outfit I’d come in with. But before I could ask why I was dressed like a clown, a more pressing matter occurred to me.

“The lion! He chased the ringmaster!”

The dwarf waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, they’re both fine. We darted the lion with a harmless sedative as soon as they got outside. He’s sound asleep in his cage, and the ringmaster is enjoying a nice fat steak.”

“Oh, good,” I breathed, relieved. I looked back down at the hideous blue and yellow clown suit. “Why am I dressed in a clown suit?”

The dwarf giggled. “You were out for while. Your friends thought if would be fun to have some photos to blackmail you with later.”

What awesome friends I have. 

**

So, I want to apologize. I was doing well for a few weeks there, but life and work caught up with me. I had this one written, and another one is half written, in my notebook, but I just couldn't get around to actually typing them up! So this is another quickie, written one night at work. I don't think I like it too much, but, eh.

Leave some love!

Ren

I'll Have the Lasagna, Hold the Alien Goo, Please

The prompt:

When you are eating out at your favorite restaurant, you find something unexpected in your food. The owner comes over, looking frazzled, and begs, “Please, I can explain!” Write a creative/exciting explanation for the object you discovered in your meal.

My response:

I sat down at the table, not even bothering with the menu. It had been a rough week and some nice Italian food was exactly what I needed to keep the week’s horrid events from polluting my weekend.

When the waitress came, all I had to say was “the usual, Michelle,” and she was on her way to the kitchen, and I leaned back against the chair and sipped some red wine.

Twenty minutes later, my plate of lasagna arrived. I was salivating before it was even on the table. The stream floating up from it made it look even more appetizing. The cheese was a perfectly melted blend of white and green-

Wait. What cheese was green?

I picked up my fork and hesitantly poked at the bright green goo mixed in with the melted cheese. I sighed. There was no way I could eat this. Despite the mouth-watering aroma that wafted from it, I just couldn’t bring myself to eat lasagna made with green cheese, or whatever this goo was. It could be radioactive for all I knew! It did seem to emanate a slight glow.

I set the fork down and looked around for my waitress. I found her by the bar and waved her over.

“Is everything okay?” she asked as she approached.

“No, actually, it isn’t,” I said, pointing at the goo. “This lasagna looks like it’s been contaminated.”

She gasped. “Oh dear, I am so sorry,” she apologized, taking the plate. “I’ll bring you a new one right away.”

I shook my head. “No, I don’t think that will be necessary. I don’t have much of an appetite anymore. I’ll just go home, I think.” And heat up another Lean Cuisine, I added mentally.

I pushed back from the table and made my way to the exit. When I was about three feet away, however, a short, portly man in a tuxedo, with more scalp than hair and a dark mustache blocked my way. He looked completely frazzled, wringing his hands and breathing heavily.

“Please, I can explain!” he insisted. “I am so, so sorry! You see, one of the new chefs, he isn’t from around here. He’s one of those… you know… new arrivals?”

I did indeed know. Part of the government’s plan to make friendly with races from other planets.

“Well, you see, they don’t use knives on his home planet, and he slipped and cut one of his tentacles. That particular race bleeds a green ooze type of substance, and he must have dripped some onto your lasagna before it went into the oven, and then it cooked and mixed with the cheese as it melted. I simply cannot express to you how deeply I regret that it was missed and it was served to you. If you please, I will personally make you any meal on the menu and provide a bottle of wine at no charge.”

I felt my mouth fall open.

“I know that you’re a regular here,” he continued. “I see you once or twice a week. This was certainly an isolated incident and I would like the chance to personally make it up to you.”

He smiled uncertainly.

I closed my mouth and nodded. “Okay,” I said. “But hold the alien goo this time.”

Eh, it's just a quickie. But leave some love anyway, please! I'm trying to throw a new one up here every Sunday, so keep checking back!

Ren