Red TwineDeep in the countryside, on a winding dirt road, the night found itself joined by company neither quite courteous or unkind. A party of one, by some means; a party of two by many others. In the ways that mattered that night—in the ways that often mattered in their lifetimes—they were two. Light rain fell like a haze over cultivated ground, and a single steady stream flowed under the only nearby shelter from the miserable weather: a small stone bridge, arched somewhat alike to a cat's spine. Moss crawled along the rocks and moisture dripped from its exterior, but the space beneath it remained blissfully dry (if one remained along the banks of the brook). At the base of the curved wall lay a single huddled figure. She breathed deeply and slowly, her eyes closed and face slack, her hands holding the clothing she wore tightly as if she feared it was going to be taken from her. She did not shake from the cold, but it gnawed at her regardless. In her sleep, she dreamed of love and acceptance. Under the bridge, she was alone. Amidst the haze above, a vengeful creature lay in wait. Its body coiled tightly around a wooden lamp post and its claws had left marks in the soil and stone below. Its patience was wearing thin. Two pointed ears stood alert against the silhouette; two furious eyes focused solely on the length of the road. Two identical maws hung open in anticipation of what would soon meet their teeth, each uttering a low, droning snarl to voice their disdain. Death would come to visit the bridge that night, that much was certain. Yet, the creature had not moved to pursue the girl. A chorus of hoofbeats soon began to crescendo above the rain, causing the ambient rumbling of the monster on the bridge to grow silent. It leaned forward on its perch, and watched intently as two men advanced along the road on horseback. They stopped upon reaching the bridge, and for a moment, the world stood still in solidarity. Then thunder reverberated in the distance, and the rain began to pour down with a little more ferocity than before. One of the men uttered a curse. He turned to the other, shouting a command that was lost on the creature stalking them, and both of them pushed their steeds to move forward. The horses did not budge. Another drawling rumble shook the men to their bones as they each tried to kick their horses into motion again, to no avail. As their efforts continued, the steeds began to whinny and squirm, forcing their riders to dismount rather promptly. Two pairs of boots squelched against muddy ground; two clawed hands left dreadful marks on the wooden post. The rumbling did not cease. Despite the evident displeasure of the natural world around them, the men pressed forward. They left their horses to rear up, untethered, and collected a single flame-lit lantern from one of the spooked animals before going to set foot on the bridge. They met no resistance. Their bodies vibrated in sync with the low resonance of the monster on the bridge. They continued on. Each step seemed to echo louder than the last until they reached the other side. There was no fanfare for them, unless one counted the dreary sky that continued to weep at their fates. The lantern, held firmly by the man who had shouted before, flickered passively. The one on the wooden post at the end of the bridge was dark and cold. Its anticipation was palpable. The pair of men would have passed by the area in no time at all. They would have disappeared briefly around the bend, only to return minutes later to retrieve their startled horses and return home. It was dark, and they would not have seen the tracks that led to the girl beneath the bridge. They would have deemed the search a lost cause, and declared the death of a disgraced family member the following morning. Unfortunately, they stopped. The man with the lantern turned to the unlit lamp post, approaching it with little caution as he made a move to light it with his own flame. His companion followed closely behind. One of the horses screamed. The lantern was thrusted upward toward its stationary twin, but it sooner lit a pair of gaping jaws than the wick it was intended for. A sharp cry rang over the fields as the low growl permeating the air prior rose into a snarl, and the creature on the bridge shot itself at its frightened target. The echoes of metal clattering against stone and teeth rending at flesh were lost amidst the blanket of rain, even as the second man was then pursued and caught like a rabbit by a wolf. Long white teeth gleamed red in the light of the moon through the haze. All became quiet. When it was sure that hollow bodies were all that remained of the unwelcome guests, the creature wandered mindlessly back to the bridge. Its hands sank into the mud and snagged on roots and twigs, but it did not stumble. Its body seemed to float along independent of support, trailing after twin heads each weighted by blood. The substance was hot and sticky, and incredibly uncomfortable. The warmth would have been welcome, once, but now it clung too tightly to a body more familiar with frostbite than fire. The rain would have been a much kinder skin to wear had it not begun to wane. As it was, the creature would have to make do with painting the stream in diluted shades of red. It sank beneath the surface like a stone. The girl, who had been so soundly asleep throughout most of the night, had awoken at the sounds of struggle above her only moments before. She dared not move, lest she give herself away, but her eyes were wide in search of any small movement that could threaten her in the dark. The sound of the creek made it difficult to hear anything aside from the first man's scream, but she knew what must have become of him and whatever company he may have had. She was aware of the monster above, although she had held onto the childish hope that it had left altogether. Despite her optimism, however, she was no fool. She knew it lingered nearby. Above the bridge, two unlit lanterns lay forgotten in the dark. Two bodies rested on the ground, giving their warmth to the earth and tainting the mud a deep crimson. Twin bolts of lightning pierced the horizon. The roaring they produced was comparable to a single clap of thunder, so intertwined that it was impossible to tell them apart. Under the bridge, two clawed hands rose from the creek. Two gleaming eyes upon two separate heads met with those of a young girl, whose body did not shiver from the cold. Two entities studied each other unblinkingly. The threads that tied them to the mortal realm shifted and twisted in unison, so intertwined that it was impossible to tell them apart. The girl began to cry. The monster in front of her only stared. Its judgment hung in the air like a blanket of smoke and was just as easy to breathe in. The grief would only be fleeting, but now it was a distraction. They needed to get going, immediately. “Milos,” the creature hissed, a forceful whisper that cut through the space between it and the girl, “We have to leave, Milos. Now.” “Leave me alone.” A sniffle. Her body curled inward, and she made every attempt to appear as though she was ignoring the beast altogether. Tears streamed down the side of her face. Their heat left a haze in the chilled air. “Milos—” “Stop calling me that! ” The creature tilted a single head. It gazed at her unblinkingly, daring her to go on. It could kill her, they both knew. It wouldn’t. She didn’t need to know that. Silence crept between them like a winter chill, just as ominous and just as damning. Even the water of the creek seemed to grow sluggish. Another sniffle. “…They’re gone?” she asked hesitantly after a few moments had passed. The creature drifted closer to her, away from the stream. “Dead,” it corrected simply, earning a barely-stifled cry from the girl, “they’re both dead.” “Why didn’t you just let them leave?” “Did you want them to find you?” “No! But they loved me, Kakodai!” Another sob cut her off, and she took a few seconds to catch her breath again. “I can’t… oh god, I didn’t want my family to die! ” “So you wanted them to hurt you? Kill you? ” “They wouldn’t have killed me. You’re being dramatic.” “Am I really?” The creature, Kakodai, let out a dry, humorless cackle. He pulled himself closer into the girl’s space, his tone suddenly much more low and pointed. “You know as well as I do that they would have forced you into being someone you’re not, again, and one way or another, a scared little girl named Miko would be dead under this bridge where they found her.” “You’re one to talk about trying to make me something I’m not.” “Ah, but you are Milos, I’m afraid. My presence alone is proof of that.” A wispy body twisted in the air, a trailing hand brushed against the girl’s face. “You can change your body and mind as you please, but you can’t alter your soul. Believe me, I’ve tried.” Two icy eyes met two of a murky brown, and Miko hated the fondness she saw there. It was stifling and demeaning, and it wasn’t meant for her. For far from the first time, she longed for people who loved her for her, not just a misguided idea of who she should be. She loathed a family that had wanted a son, and despised the demon whose jaws too frequently opened wounds both new and old. All of them looked at her and saw a dead man, and all of them were enamored with the idea of him. None of them knew Miko, yet they all thought they loved her regardless. That night, as had been done for a countless many before and would surely continue for countless more, Kakodai gazed at an unfamiliar face and thought longingly of someone who had died thousands of years ago. Remnants of him did still remain there, at least, and Kakodai clung tightly to the imprint of a spirit melded with his own. Despite whatever new form it might take through each incarnation, he knew they were all Milos in essence. Although, he had yet to figure out if that made it easier or harder to stick around (not that he had much of a choice in the matter). Many moments passed the two of them by as they each pondered the state of their unity. The rain had ceased its descent altogether, and the creek babbled along idly. Miko breathed heavily to relieve the pulsing heat in her veins. Kakodai dug claws into trembling limbs that grew steadily numb to the cold that seeped into them. Neither half formed a whole, but they made it work. They had to. “I hate you,” said Miko, “I wish you’d get out of my life.” Kakodai’s faces grinned. “Childish,” he barked, “childish and moronic. Get up.” Miko turned away, laying down with her back to the creature. She did not respond. His mirthful look faltered, replaced by a frustrated snarl. “Hello! Get your head out of the mud, fool! Ignoring me isn’t going to solve your problems, you’re going to die and rot under this bridge if we don’t get going! ” Kakodai pushed himself forward, reaching out a cold, clawed hand to clutch the girl’s shoulder and lurch it suddenly toward him, making her face him completely. Although caught off-guard, Miko’s expression remained unimpressed at best, and outright disgusted at worst. “Why?” She gazed at him with a heavy judgment hung on her brow. “You’ve killed two of them already, what’s a few more, huh? They’re not gonna touch you.” “So you want this rivulet to run thick with the blood you share? Do you want their bodies to sour the earth on this plain? I’m giving you an out, Miko, don’t mistake my kindness for fear.” Kakodai met her challenge with a hiss to his words. “You’re right, after all, their deaths wouldn’t hurt me. But I’d bet they’d tear you apart.” “Fine then! Whatever,” Miko whispered back, teeth clenched tightly, “We’ll leave!” She grabbed the arm that clawed at her shoulder through her clothing and shoved it aside, irked yet unsurprised at the demon’s victorious grins in response. They would run again, and find a place to stay, only to be recognized again and start the cycle anew, she thought. A girl named Miko, begrudgingly raising herself from under the bridge where she had rested, resigned herself to a life of finding and fleeing and letting go, in that moment. Earlier (and later again, although she would not know that now), she would have held some hope. She would have found faith for the goodness of people and grown wise to the fear of others. It would shine bright in her heart, close to the flames burning in her chest. But now, a girl crawls up from the banks of the creek with muddy hands and knotted hair, and the dreams of belonging that she had held so dearly underneath the bridge are forgotten, retreated with the mist of rain and claps of thunder that had permeated the land mere minutes ago. It was only herself, she knew. Only herself. Miko ignored the limp, dark shape at the end of the bridge, sprawled out awkwardly by the unlit lamp post. She knew it was there, and she did not need to see it for her mind to conjure images regardless. The rest of her, the demon that trailed loosely behind her, knew exactly what had happened there that night, and so she did not need to know. She knew enough already. The demon, for his credit, found no joy in her turmoil. Yet, he knew that he would never get her to understand that this was necessary, that this was the only way! Kakodai knew from many lifetimes played over and over that loved ones will threaten and hurt and kill. But he has also learned that empty bodies cannot hurt the rest of him, his Milos , and love can be believed into existence even if it is a lie. “They cannot harm you from beyond the grave, ” he had said to Milos once, numerous lifetimes ago, “But you will not forget their care. ” Although the creature had not known it at the time, the comfort was a ruse. But it was a helpful ruse, now, and one that worked often to get Milos to stop crying and whining and get moving instead. Kakodai did not say those words that night, for the girl would have sooner attempted to wring his necks than heed his advice, but that was fine by him. He had gotten what they needed; he had gotten her moving. So, deep in the countryside, they traveled along a winding dirt road. Away from every reminder of loss that lay on the other side of a lonely stone bridge. They were one, and they were two—in such a way that often mattered in their many, many lifetimes. Heavy mud clung to sodden shoes and did not freeze heat-laden limbs. Condensation fled from the air to drip steadily from trembling claws and shivering maws. Neither sought the other, but they walked the same path. Together, they were alone.gifHezekiah and the quest for the whelps: FRICKGLISH ASSIGNMENT 2 electric boogalooAs Hezekiah walked through the wrecked gates of the old Six Flags park in New Orleans, he could smell the musty scent of water-damaged metal, swampy wreckage that could be seen everywhere the eye could witness. Walking into this long-abandoned property, he thought of why his leader sent him here to search for the lost children of the recently-deceased Upsilon family- the “whelps” as the rest of the Cat-Fish Society had called them. Their names were Celestia, Petal and Pystal. They were very small children who didn’t talk much and very much preferred to play with their stuffed dragons than talk to anyone… They had no interest in the great Cat-Fish Society. The Upsilons had taken them in from an adoption agency at their birth some two or three years before they went missing, and their parents loved them so- But unfortunately, when the Upsilon couple died in that storm the week before, The whelps were nowhere to be found. Perhaps they ran away here…Hezekiah continued to tread past the starting point of the rust-scented, long deserted amusement park. Soon, the beat up coasters he had seen at a distance were closer- and something seemed strange about his surroundings. While the rides seemed extremely rusty, there were objects scattered around the park that were rather new. Particularly a bunch of plastic pony princesses, shimmering in the sunlight typical of New Orleans. He cringed, tensing up and walking around the park to observe the rest of the its damage, but before he could get very far, he was tackled to the ground. In front of him now was a raven-haired, rough-looking lady with the shape of a gibbous moon in the center of her face, staring directly into his albino irises.“Who in the living soul of Yeepster June are you, and why are you here?” The lady screamed in Hezekiah’s face as he started to cry. He couldn’t respond back. “I said, who are you, and why are you here?” The lady yelled again, spooking Hezekiah into submission. “H-H-Hezekiah,” he stuttered, tears still sliding down his face. “Okay, and why are you here, Hezekiah?” The lady growled, pinning the already stunned Hezekiah into the damaged concrete, causing him to whine in pain. “The whelps…” he stated as he whimpered. “The Upsilon children…”The lady unpinned him. “I don’t know no whelps,” she stated as her razor-sharp gold leaf nails glistened in the unresisting sunlight. He got up, dusting off the back of his red T-shirt, and walked off in another direction before being stopped by the lunar lady walking in front of him, continuing to stare directly at his crimson eyeballs. “But I’ll let you stay here for a night or two, I don’t really care,” she said, “So long as you get out of here within forty-eight hours.” She then let Hezekiah truly move after minutes of intense conflict.Hezekiah spent the rest of that day searching through the park, looking for any sign of the whelps. But unfortunately for him, all the poor man could find was sparkling pony toys, covered in weird satin outfits, seemingly arranged in what was, most likely, a former straight line. By nightfall, he had become exhausted, having no other choice but to sleep on the messed up concrete, with no cushions or mattresses to keep him comfortable- Just his tired body, the T-shirt, and cargo shorts he’d worn to this abandoned amusement park. But before he could get any amount of sweet, sweet Zs, He heard cries. Familiar ones, too.So he ran in the direction of the cries, sparkling pony princess toys increasing in number as he traveled, and soon he encountered a pile of torn-up roller coaster parts. So he lifted up the parts, which were a little heavy, but at least liftable, and there he saw exactly what he’d been searching for the entire day. The Upsilon’s three lost children, holding their stuffed dragons. The whelps.As soon as the Whelps could see Hezekiah, they ran up to him and initiated a group hug. “Daddy?” One of them said, probably Pystal, clinging onto the cargo shorts of Hezekiah. “I’m hungry,” another one of the whelps stated as she started to tightly grasp Hezekiah’s right leg. “I’m not your dad, but I’m one of his friends,” Hezzekiah stated nervously, trying to calm the newly rescued whelps down. “I’ve come to take you back to the Cat-Fish Society.” The whelps became giddy, bouncing around next to Hezekiah’s legs. “Yay! We’re going back to mama and daddy’s friend house!” the only one who hadn’t spoken yet yelled.So, Hezekiah scooped up the whelps with their stuffed dragons, and decided to head back the way he came into this abandoned amusement park, but not before they became distracted by the shimmering, horse-shaped pieces of plastic that surrounded them. Hezekiah tried to stop the children from getting distracted, but before he could get them to stop, the dark-haired, golden-nailed lady was back, and she did not look happy.“What the actual Skyper Lonk are you doing with my PONY PRINCESSES?” yelled the lady as she crouched in a pose reminiscent of one you would see in a spy movie during a stealth operation scene. “And what are you doing with the kids whose noises have lulled me to SLEEP at night?” Hezekiah whimpered. “These are the whelps. I need to take them home,” he uttered while heading backward, pulling on the whelps’ hoodies to get them closer to safety. “Well, they aren’t YOUR whelps!” screamed the lady, now breathing heavily. “They aren’t even PUPPIES!” She then paused for a brief moment. “Prepare to die, fool.” So Hezekiah ran up the nearest rollercoaster, the whelps following him running fast away from the lady, her hazel orbs glowing with pure rage as she chased the poor, cowardly Hezekiah up and down the loops of the old Invertatron. It took ages to get up and around the loops and other inversions of the coaster, but Hezekiah and the Whelps stayed ahead of the lady by at least ten feet throughout all of this… Until they reached a wrecked part of the coaster. A dead end.Soon, the lady had them cornered. About to fall, about to die some of the grisliest deaths people could die. Falling hundreds of feet off the hill of a rollercoaster. But before Hezekiah and the three innocent children of the Upsilons, The lady lost her footing, and she fell.She fell hundreds of feet, screaming. “CURSE YOU, HEZEKIAH!” she screeched as she fell, eventually making it to the ground, and her sparkly doom of falling onto plastic pony princesses. Behind where she was was the great leader of the Cat-Fish Society. Hezekiah’s beloved leader. “Great job, Hezekiah,” said the leader, holding his arms crossed. He then outstretched one of his arms. “Come. I will take you and the Whelps back to the society.”Hours after the incident, The leader stood with Hezekiah on the stage of the Cat-Fish Society’s headquarters. The whelps stood right near them, sleeping with their dragons and a few pony toys they fetched from the ground at the abandoned Six Flags. “We have finally found the Upsilon children, but to truly keep them safe, as their parents have sadly died, they need new parentage,” the leader announced as he gripped a microphone with force. “And I feel there is only one person who can do that job,” he continued, taking a deep breath before turning to Hezekiah. “Hezekiah, you are these whelps’ father now. They have shown they are more attached to you than anyone else here, so you will be the one to nurse them. Hezekiah stood there a bit shocked, but he went ahead and grabbed the mic anyway. “I am honored to be the caretaker of these children,” he stated. “I hope I can take care of them as greatly as possible.”