In Forgotten Times by Anna Fyffe

                       

                               (Pronunciation guide and translations at end of story)

       Once, there was a time when dragons protected the earth. These ancient creatures lived far above the earth amongst the stars, singing the songs which explain the strange workings of time itself and guarding the wonderful wisdom of many worlds. While the humans walked below on the planet’s surface, the dragons were ever present, diligently controlling the weather and lighting the stars when it became dark. These reptilian giants were the protectors of the humans’ tiny corner of the universe, and they never knew that the dragons were there: that is, until the time that our story takes place. Afterwards, our planet changed forever.

        Although most dragons were adults, there were younglings as well, but their numbers were few because dragons live for thousands of years and only lay their eggs once every two centuries. Young dragons were always very curious, and the youngest, most curious of them all was named Trsti 1. Throughout his yaelsn 2 (childhood), he never had many playmates. This was because he seemed very different from the other younglings: primarily because he was the youngest of all of them (his egg had been very late in hatching), but ultimately because his scales were a very strange shade of gray which hadn't been seen on any dragon in generations. Because of his differences from his peers, Trsti became very shy, and only spoke to a select few of the older dragons. Frequently becoming lonely, Trsti would fly off by himself and stretch out on the moon to gaze at Earth. None of the dragons ever went closer to the planet than that shining rock which circled it, and Trsti never quite understood why. Intrigued by the stories he had heard of the creatures whom they protected, he dreamt what these humans would be like and decided that any creature could be nicer than his peers. He wished to learn more of the humans and to get a closer look at them. Trsti eventually decided to ask his closest friend, Beyearn 3, why dragons had never become friends with the humans. This began an interesting conversation.

        “Humans aren’t like dragons, Trsti,” Beyearn told him. “We do not make direct contact with them because they will not understand us, and what humans do not understand, they fear, and what they fear, they attack.” Being one of the oldest, wisest dragons ever to traverse the heavens, Beyearn had answers to most problems, and Trsti went to him with all of his questions. He was a colossal green dragon who had wings as large as ships’ sails and a glittering tail larger and greener than the tallest tree on earth. All dragons revered him. “Why are you suddenly so interested in humans?” He queried. “Well…”, Trsti faltered. Unsurprisingly, the shy little dragon wasn't entirely certain how to put his thoughts, or if he even wanted to tell them to Beyearn, as much as he trusted him. “Well, I know so little about humans, I was just wondering if…” “Yes, Naerhan 4?” “Well, I’m so lonely here, I was wondering if… if it was possible to become friends with a human, and if it is, I wanted you to come with me to try and meet them.” Beyearn stared and tried extremely hard to suppress his laughter. “Friends?! you wish to find friends amongst the humans? My dear Naerhan, humans are too foolish, too different from us to ever become companions to us. Besides, humans will never be able to understand us.” When Trsti heard this, he was severely disappointed, but decided not to give up all hope just yet. “If humans are so different than us why do we protect them?”, he asked looking up into the eyes of his large friend. “We protect the humans because they need us: there are many evils out in the great darkness, and we have the knowledge and experience to defend against them.” Trying hard to understand, Trsti frowned as another question formed in his mind: “But, how can we effectively care for them if we don’t know any of them?” Beyearn blinked. “Trsti, you must trust me on this. In the end it is better this way. If your curiosity will not be satiated, nothing can be hurt by your going down to earth’s surface. However, I cannot go with you; my place is here, beyond the skies of the human world.” Trsti was shocked. “You’re not going with me? B..b..but I can’t talk to a human on my own! Please, Beyearn, I need you!” “I’m sorry, Naerhan, but you must either face your fears, or be content to remain here. You must go now, I am needed amongst the elders. I wish you luck in your quest.” Beyearn said with a fond look, and turned to go on his way leaving a bewildered Trsti behind him.

       To go...or not to go. That was the question which persecuted Trsti. He had never met a human before, so anything could happen if he did go. Maybe Beyearn was right, and the humans wouldn’t understand dragons after all; but if he didn’t go he would never find out. Flying back to his usual perch on the moon, Trsti gazed back on Earth. “It’s beautiful”, he mused inwardly. As he sat there staring at the blue and green orb he suddenly knew that he had to go down there, just to see it, or he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. Taking a deep breath, he leapt off the white rock, and dove towards earth.

       He flew down, faster and faster, the wind rushing past his face. The journey took him a little longer than he had originally expected. When he reached the planet, he perched on a cloud (Dragons had the ability to do that in those days) and looked down on the land, wondering what it was like down there; again he started to question his decision to come, but quickly shook his head and dove off the fluffy cloud before he lost his courage altogether. As he neared the surface, he decided to explore the island of Bretchen 5(Great Britain: the dragons would study Earth’s geography and give its islands and continents their own names). He had always thought that the island looked interesting from afar and couldn’t wait to see it up close. As he swooped low over the land he noticed a small village nestled in a picturesque valley. The valley was filled with trees, thus the village had forest on all sides. Because of this, Trsti didn’t notice the stream that ran the length of the valley until he was hovering right above it. Realizing he was thirsty, he landed on the bank of the creek about 100 yards downstream from the village. Once he was done drinking, Trsti lifted his head and found himself face to face with a human boy. Not even noticing that the boy was frozen with shock and fear, Trsti gave a terrified “yelp!”, and fell backward, tumbling down a steep incline. Trsti was angry with himself for letting down his guard, and it took him some time to disentangle himself from his wings and tail. When he finished, he looked back up the incline and saw the boy peering nervously down at him and realized that this human was probably more scared than he was. After staring at each other for a while, Trsti could tell that the boy was curious as well as scared. “What are you?”, the boy murmured to himself. “ I”, said Trsti, drawing himself up proudly (trying to salvage his dignity after his ungainly tumble), “am a dragon”. The boy’s eyes grew wide and he turned pale. “What dark magic is this? You can talk?” Trsti was surprised that the boy didn’t know what a dragon was. “Of course I talk. You didn’t think I was a beast, did you?” The boy was staring at him open mouthed and seemed disinclined to continue speaking at this point, so Trsti tried to put him at ease by being friendly: “ My name is Trsti, I came here because I wanted to meet the humans who live here. Sorry if I scared you.” The boy immediately became defensive, “What made you think that I was scared? Nothing scares me. The name’s Brendan, by the way. Were you flying just a minute ago? I didn't think that a creature so large could fly. Where did you come from? I’m from the village upstream; I come here when I’m lonely so that I can listen to the birds…” The two of them engaged in a lengthy conversation and eventually started a game of tag. Only too soon it became dark, and Brendan had to go home. That night, Trsti curled up in a tree to sleep. Meanwhile, back at the village, Brendan told some of his friends about the strange creature he had found in the woods, and it became necessary for him to bring them along the next day to avoid being called a liar. Trsti ended up befriending all of them, and eventually the rest of the villagers too. He came to realize that humans were just like dragons: they had the same impulses to protect, to love, they appreciated beauty in the same ways as dragons, and there were even many ways that they could teach dragons to broaden their horizons. The men of the village did well protecting their families, but many of them without families wished that they could do something to protect those who couldn’t fend for themselves. However, only men of noble blood were allowed to become knights in those days. This gave Trsti an idea, and after presenting it to the villagers he decided to fly upwards, back to dragon territory to present his idea to the elders.

       “So you see, with my idea, we could not only protect the humans more directly, but help them to protect themselves”, Trsti finished, nervously standing before the group of elders who he had hastily gathered. After a very lengthy, very awkward silence, Beyearn spoke up: “your idea is very unconventional, Trsti, and we would have to think it over before we made a final decision; however, I think it just might work - if what you say about humans is true, that is.” Trsti was surprised and grateful that Beyearn had taken it so well. After that vital conversation with the elders, it still took many weeks of argument and meetings between dragons and the world’s leaders. Many were flat out against the idea, but it gradually came to be seen as the only way to move forward.

        And so, an Order was made; an order in which a young human and a dragon youngling were paired together and trained to fight against the darkness in the universe. The goal was to defend Earth, and to help those who couldn't help themselves. The order was named Kiaelroth Aman Roule 6, which is Dragon for “Lights in the Middle of the Darkness”. The dragons and humans who enrolled in Kiaelroth Aman Roule would have to go through extensive training before even considering being paired with a partner, or “Bond”. After their training was over and partner was chosen, the trainee would go through ‘Initiation’, a ceremony in which both the human and the dragon would swear magic oaths to protect and care for their Bond and to devote their lives to protecting others until the end of their days. Obviously, Trsti and Brendan joined the Order once they were of age and became each other's Bonds.

       So you see, through one shy little gray dragon facing his fears, the dragons came to understand that no one is so different that you cannot learn from them and become their friends. Thus began the golden age of the Kiaelroth Aman Roule. However, not even this glorious order could last forever, and today even the memory of its existence has been forgotten and lost to the mists of time.

Pronunciation Guide and Translations of Dragon Names and Terms:

(In order of appearance in text)

1 Trsti                                            TUR - stee: little star

2 yaelsn                                         YALE - sin: a dragon’s childhood/ the first 25 or so years of a

                                                                         dragon’s life

3 Beyearn                                      BAY - urn

4 Naerhan                                      NARE - hon: small one - a term of endearment

5 Bretchen                                     BRAY - shin: the island of Great Britain. The translation of this

                                                                         dragon word is ‘shield’, because of the way it

                                                                         seems to shelter the much smaller Ireland.

                                                                         Long after the days of the dragons, this name

                                                                         was combined with the human name, Ritton,

                                                                         meaning homeland. Thus the island’s name is

                                                                         now ‘The Great Shield of our Homeland’.

6 Kiaelroth Aman Roule                 kee - ALE - roth  AH - mon  ROOL: Lights in the Middle of

                                                                                                     Darkness - an order consisting

                                                                                                     of dragons and humans,

                                                                                                     dedicated to the protection of

                                                                                                     Earth.

Steve- By Kathleen Andrews

Once there was an anatomy model named Steve.  Steve would sit on a desk in the 4th grade biology classroom and let the children take out his organs and watch them attempt to put them back.  Steve did not love this job as much as you would think.  Steve had always dreamed of being a shop mannequin, but he knew that an anatomy model could never be a mannequin in a store. So Steve continued to sit on his shelf, and count his organs.  But one day as Steve sat there, the children's teacher, Miss Thompson, stepped out of the classroom for a moment.  Once she left, the room broke out into chaos.  The kids began what seemed like a free for all game of dodge ball. Steve was terrified and prayed that he would remain unnoticed.  Unfortunately, one of the boys spotted Steve and grabbed him off the shelf, and began beaming Steve's organs at four girls who were huddled in the corner. Miss Thompson returned to the room and was furious at what had happened. She gave them all detention and had them clean up the room.  Once the kids had finished cleaning, they went to lunch and left Steve alone. Steve was furious.  He could not stand this kind of abuse any longer, and made up his mind that he was going to get out of there and become a store mannequin.

Steve got off his stand and descended down the shelf. Once in the school hall, he cautiously made his way through, being careful not to make any noise.  Suddenly Steve heard the sound of wheels and quickly hit the floor behind a corner.  The old janitor, Mr. Nelson, showed up with his cart of cleaning supplies and began to mop the hall. Mr. Nelson was blocking the front doors and Steve knew he couldn't get by without being seen so, when Mr. Nelson's back was turned, Steve made a dash for the cart and lunged into it.  Knowing that Mr. Nelson would dump the dirty water outside, Steve waited patiently.  He was rewarded when Mr. Nelson brought the cart to the door and dumped out the water.  While he did this, Steve dived into a bush and was finally free!

Steve looked around and noticed that there was a large highway with a few houses along it and directly across from him was a plaza with many stores.  Steve walked briskly to the side of the road but realized that the crossing would not be easy.  There was a constant flow of cars and Steve could hardly catch a glimpse of the other side. Cautiously, Steve stepped into the street and waited for a gap in the stream of cars.  Once he saw it, he made a dash for the yellow line and just barely made it. Steve watched for the next break in the flow, and made another dash, skillfully making it out of the road and to safety!

Steve walked into a store with many mannequins, who Steve hoped would give him a chance.  Steve walked over to a mannequin wearing a neon blue dress and a bright purple wig and asked her If he could work there.  She was skeptical but told him that he may be able to model in the toddler section.

She brought him over and gave him a baby's jumpsuit to try on, and told him to go stand on an empty platform. Once she said this, she left.

Steve was ecstatic and quickly threw on the jumpsuit and scrambled onto the platform.  Once on, Steve began to think of dramatic position he could use.  Eventually he decided on simple jazz hands.  After few minutes of this, his arms became tired and he sat down to rest.  Steve attempted to make conversation with the other mannequins but they would give him an annoyed looks and then return to their modeling. Steve was extremely bored and decided he wanted to return to his classroom where he was needed. Steve put the jumpsuit back into the pile and left the store.

Steve was anxious to be home, and since he knew what to expect crossing the street he quickly cut across with little trouble. He made it back to the school grounds and was contemplating how he was to get back in the school, when he was picked up and put in a black bag. Steve was very scared and confused, and hoped it was not someone picking up litter! The person walked with him for a bit, and then Steve felt himself being brought out of the bag and placed into the hands of Miss Thompson, who cleaned Steve and sat him back on his shelf. Steve from then on was glad to sit on his shelf til the end of his days.

THE END

A Journey- by Mark Andrews

Today felt like any other day; my dad went off to work while I stayed home from

school, without my dad knowing of course. I can learn way more at home with all of my

dad's research and books than I would ever learn at school. You see, my dad is a

radiologist, but he isn't your every day radiologist. My father is very secretive and doesn't

talk about his work much. So, today I'm going to follow him to work.

My dad hopped into his Prius and drove off as he did every morning but this

time, I put one of my home­made GPS’s in his car. I went to the garage and taped my

phone onto my dirt bike so I could follow my dad using the GPS.

When I got to where I assumed my dad worked, it turned out that security was

pretty tight... The strange thing was that the building wasn't labeled. There was no

advertisement for the company whatsoever. I saw a truck pull around the back of the

building and took my chance. While the guards were helping unload, I snuck inside. As I

went through the door I noticed that the crates were full of fish. “That's strange...,” I

thought as I continued into the building. I was walking down a hallway when I saw my

father approaching me with a person in what looked like a radiation suit. I dashed into the

nearest door. Much to my relief, no one had seen me. The room I had entered looked like

a storage room. I walked over to a pile of canisters and instantly recognized the warning

sign for radiation. I then went over to a canister that was connected to a tube on the wall.

Much to my surprise, I noticed a radiation meter on the top of the canister ever so slowly

going up. “How could this place be making radiation?” I asked himself, “and why would

the government let a company be so careless with it?” Right when I was about to leave

the room I noticed a security camera outside. I wasn't too worried about security cameras

because this place looked like it didn't see much action. But, just in case, I took a moment

to deactivate them using a Trojan program I had made last year.

I then followed my father down the hall. I opened up the door that my father went

into and found myself inside of an... aquarium?! To my left there were crates of fish but,

besides that, the room was basically empty. That's if you're not counting the huge glass

floor above a pool full of dark, strangely clear water. I dashed behind a crate of smelly fish

and listened to my dad talking to his co­worker.

“These experiments have paid off, Joe.” stated Rob.

“Oh, I know. Who would've thought that radiation has been affecting dolphins like

this all of these years?” replied my dad.

“Can you imagine how many other animals are being affected this way? Possibly

even humans?”

“Heck, soon we may have talking dolphins!” Joe laughed

“I wouldn't be surprised. Ever since we've kept a steady level of negative 4 rad's

(radiation) in the pool the dolphins brain activity has been steadily increasing.”

“Lets just make sure they don't find a way out of the tank”

Joe and Rob then walked off talking about a tv show that they both loved.

“Negative Radiation? How is that even possible?” I thought to myself. It was then

I realized that I wasn't just standing over a pool, I was surrounded by glass, it was so dark

I hadn't even noticed. As I looked around me, I noticed dolphins swimming in the water.

But these didn't look like regular dolphins, they were, different. They weren't acting as

normal dolphins did ­ they were unified, together, as if they knew what the other dolphins

were going to do without even using their dolphin chirp thingy. My science books had

never really given it a better name.

After being amazed by the dolphins for a minute, I noticed a console. I walked

over to it and booted up the computer. I noticed some pretty intense algorithms that I

thought looked like they might be used for detecting, brain waves? I can't be sure though,

this coder wasn't the best commenter. I built the code and ran it. Instantly lights turned on

in the water and I could see maybe 20 dolphins. From somewhere above me, two hooks

came down with fish on them. One hook looked like a fishing hook with a spike on the

edge that would obviously hurt the dolphin when it went to eat the fish. The other hook

was much smoother and looked harmless. I assumed that the dolphins would rush

towards the food on both hooks and start fighting over it. To my surprise, quite the

opposite happened. One fish after another came forward and ate a little bit of the fish off

of the smooth hook. Likewise, two other dolphins went on either side of the sharp hook

and each grabbed a side of the fish and ripped it off the hook safely and didn't get harmed

in the process. I couldn't believe my eyes! I looked at the gauges on the screen and

noticed that the water level was truly at ­4 rads! Could radiation really be effecting animals

brain waves like that? While I was standing there looking at the computer report and

trying to understand what I was seeing, the dolphins were moving in the background.

Three dolphins went and pulled the sharp hook while a couple more went up and started

chewing on the wire. The next thing I know the room was filled with a horrible screeching

noise. I looked up and saw the dolphins dragging the hook against the glass. Surly they

wouldn't be able to break it. But what I saw next was the most amazing and terrifying

thing of all. The dolphins were scratching a pattern into the glass in just the way that

would leave it vulnerable to a hit. I looked for a fire alarm of some sort but there was

nothing there. The only thing I could do was run and try to find my dad. I booked it out the

door and through the hallway that I had come from. That's when I heard it. A huge bang

and suddenly I thought about the radiation. So I quickly jumped into a room and luckily, I

found one of those unfashionable radiation suits. I realized that my dad was probably

heading towards the tank so, so did I. I was heading towards the aquarium and I saw this

guy ahead of me. He opened the door and was over taken by a couple dolphins. They

were stabbing him with the hooks! I took this moment, while the dolphins were busy, to

throw up in my suit. One dolphin looked up and noticed me. He started charging me. I

have no idea how he was moving so fast. But right before he stabbed me, he stopped. He

must realize I'm the one who set him free. It was then that I realized something strange,

the dolphins skin was moving like a wave across his skin, stretching. The next thing I

knew, this dolphins fin fell off! The normal radiation levels outside the water must be

effecting them. The dolphin whose fin had fallen off suddenly charged at me again and

smacked me across the hall. “Sweet cracker jacks” I groaned. I don't know where those

three words came from but that's all I could say. I lay on the ground with the breath

knocked out of me as the group of dolphins walked past me. Wait? How are they

walking? I looked down and saw the strangest thing. Yes, weirder than dolphins being

smart. They had feet. Well, not feet. Some were walking on flippers others were walking

with things that had popped out of their body due to the radiation. And I just couldn't help

laughing. This was the most stupid thing ever. Dolphins had just murdered someone

before my eyes. After a few minutes of just lying there, I got up and looked around the

office for my dad. The dolphins, they killed so many people! I took a gun from one of the

dead guards and continued searching the facility for my dad. I went outside and there was

no sign of the dolphins, or my dad. I hopped on my bike and drove back to my house. “No

way!” My house, it was completely leveled. But this was the only house that was

destroyed. Everything else was fine. I don't know how but the dolphins must've known

that my father lived here. I waited around the house for an hour, waiting for my dad, but I

realized he wasn't coming, or couldn't come. Either way I had to find him. And I will. With

a gun, my dirt bike, and the clothes on my back, I set out to find my father and stop the

evil dolphins. A journey that would change my life.

The Tooth Faerie- by Samuel Huff

I.

In her hand, the Tooth Faerie held a single human tooth. She lifted it to the moonlight slanting through the window. “Remarkable,” she thought, “that they should possess such power and not know it.” The Tooth Faerie stood next to the night stand of a five year old girl who had just lost her first tooth. The innocent girl believed that the Tooth Faerie was a benevolent soul whose only concern was trading teeth for change.   She would soon find out how wrong she was.

The Tooth Faerie was a malign creature with a heart rotten to the core. She was the last of her kind, and older than the oldest man alive. Though her memory stretched back decades, and she was the wisest creature in existence, she was dying. Not from sickness, or injury, or hunger, but from the strangling, gnawing thing that is old age. She blamed humanity for the impending extinction of her race, and so hatched a plan to induce as much harm as possible before she died.  The Faerie knew from the lore of her people that within the first teeth of all creatures is a seed from which would hatch a living skeleton of some lesser beast.

After careful thought, she spread the myth of the Tooth Faerie, using the last of her magic to fix the rumor in the minds of men. Every night she roamed with speed only the faeries are capable of, creeping effortlessly into houses and pocketing the instrument of her revenge, given by credulous innocents. Until tonight. Because tonight, she had finally achieved her goal.

The tooth in her hand was the last she would ever collect. With care she placed it into a rough satchel that hung by her side and slid a quarter beneath the soft pillow of the girl. She went back to her home, an abandoned warehouse on the edge of Buckner, a small town in Arkansas. The children in town supposed it to be haunted, though the Tooth Faerie herself was responsible for that rumor.

She reached the door, which hung crazily off one of its hinges and slipped inside. With a flick of a switch, she dispelled the darkness and sent the shadows fleeing into the corners. The floor was concrete and the walls were wooden. The small windows had long since been boarded up and it was completely empty of the rubble one would expect. After hours of work, the Faerie had completely cleared the floor of debris. The one thing in the building other than the lights was an enormous mound of teeth. There were thousands. The pearly heap gleamed in the fluorescent light, the product of years of work. Tomorrow she would sow.  The day after, she would reap.

II.

“To pull, or not to pull, that is the question.” So sighed Dr. Mick Winslow, the sole dentist in Buckner. He had set up his practice in his own modest home. Though he was a kind man, he was dreaded and loathed by children in town, who had fallen victim to the universal fear of the dentist. He was, for lack of a better term, misunderstood.

Now, at the end of the workday, he was trying to decide whether to pull a man’s wisdom teeth. He was taking a two week leave starting the next day, and if he left them in, Mick felt they might crowd Mr. Thimble’s molars. “Ah well,” he muttered to himself, “As Shakespeare so aptly put it: ‘Better three hours too soon then a minute too late.’”

“Sir!” he revealed abruptly to the anxious patient, making him jump, “I am sorry to sorry before m teeth  a man'  day, he was trying to decide  to the . e shadows fleeing into the corners. say I am going to pull your wisdom teeth!” His statement was received with a cry of anguish.

“Oh, cheer up, Mr. Thimble, it isn’t the end of the world. If you really want I can put you to sleep while I do it.”

Some short minutes late, the job was done, Mr. Thimble given instructions, and the office was closed. Mick sighed, relieved. The thought of two glorious weeks of freedom was alleviating.

“Dentistry,” he declared dramatically, “I dote on thy very absence.” With that, he fixed his dinner, and sat down happily to his favorite pastime: Shakespeare.

III.

The next day, the Tooth Faerie rose promptly. She had acquired numerous plant pots early in the planning process and hidden them behind the warehouse. Now, she brought them inside and spent the morning filling them with dirt. The mound of teeth became soon encircled with pots. When the job was done, the Faerie looked around at the result of her labor with satisfaction.

“Now, what will they grow?” she asked herself. “Will it be some kind of bird? Crocodiles perhaps? Apes would be useful. Or maybe bears!” The suspense was tantalizing. Slowly the Faerie walked to the mass of teeth and selected three, two molars and one canine. She pushed them deep into the first pot with fingers trembling with anticipation. Eternal minutes seeped away.

Then, there was a soft creaking, like the hinges of a rusty door. A single pale paw pushed its way slowly through the dirt, flexing and clawing at the air. Then another. Soon the pot was a churning stewpot with paws trying to escape confining soil. Suddenly, one of the skeletal creatures was free, followed quickly by the others. Their bony bodies were clogged with dirt, and as it trickled out their shape became clear.

 “Cats?” the Faerie whispered incredulously, “Cats?” She said louder. As she spoke, one of them began to rub blissfully against her leg. “Stop that!” she cried angrily, kicking at it. To her great joy and amazement, it obeyed her. “Sit?” she said hesitantly. All three of them immediately sat in a neat row, watching her. “Stay.” She ordered, and so they did.

She spent the rest of the day and all that night planting teeth. Cats of all sizes rose from the pots, some small as kittens, others big as dogs. By the time she was done she was so tired she could barely stand. “Stay here.” She murmured to her army, and quickly fell into deep slumber, watched by empty eyes. The cats farthest from her could not hear, and so did not obey her command. That proved to be her undoing.

Cats are curious creatures, always have been, always will be. As the few cats who had not heard the Faerie’s last order began to get restless, they started pacing and searching for a way out of the warehouse. The door had been chained shut by the Tooth Faerie. Frantically they pried at the boards over the windows with unnatural strength. Wooden panels were torn to shreds by skeletal claws. They were free.

They would, of course, return to the Faerie - she was the one who had woken them and they were bound to her command. But for now, with no restraint on them, they could wander as they chose until she bid them return.

“What’s that?” one thought as the smell of catnip wafted through its empty nostrils, “What a heavenly odor!” The scent led it toward Buckner. As it walked around houses and climbed over fences it knew it was getting close.

“There!” A rumbling purr erupted from its throat as it began to chew blissfully on the intoxicating shrub. It was soon joined by the others who had made their way out of the warehouse. By the time dawn came, there was not a single patch of catnip left in Buckner, and the skeletal cats were so inebriated they could barely walk back to the warehouse. They managed it, but they were just a bit too slow.

As they were making their way back to the warehouse, Mick Winslow was out getting the papers when he caught a glimpse of a skeletal tail and hind quarters vanish around the corner of his house. He was so astonished he nearly fell over. When he recovered he jogged to the corner of his house. There was nothing.

“Ah well, it’s early and I haven’t had my coffee yet.” he muttered, trying to reason with himself. Just then, he noticed that where his catnip plants had been there was nothing. Every last stalk and leaf had been completely shredded. There was nothing left.

IV.

As the Tooth Faerie woke she was watched steadily by her army. The harsh lights glared into her eyes, making her squint. Waking quickly, she rose and unchained the door, while rubbing the wisps of sleep from her eyes. She looked out onto Buckner, ready to unleash her army on the world.

“Destroy the town.” She commanded them coldly, “I want there to be nothing but rubble by midday. Subdue the humans, killing when necessary.”

As her legions streamed out of the warehouse, she noticed there was a group of perhaps twenty cats straggling behind. They were purring excessively for no reason at all, and they seemed to find great hilarity in the simplest of things. “You are not worthy of being in my service.” she spat, and commanded them to dispatch themselves. The group of cats attacked each other as passionately as they could at her demand, until there were only bones scattered on the ground. Then, as the Faerie looked on, the bones began to merge together like water. They got smaller and smaller until only a minute pile of teeth was left. She was enjoying her absolute power immensely. Then she walked to the town where her armies were making havoc among the citizens of Buckner.

The town was in chaos. With little to no opposition, the cats ran rampant, tearing through houses and shredding car tires with alarming ease. Suddenly, there was a gunshot. It was Drew Thimble, the man that had his wisdom teeth pulled the day before. He had fetched his shotgun from his basement and was defending his house from his porch to the best of his ability, bellowing obscenities all the while. Bang! One of the Faerie’s minions was blasted into shards of bone and marrow. After managing to destroy one more of the fiendish things, a cat jumped from the roof and knocked the shotgun from his hands. He was soon covered with hissing, spitting creatures.

V.

Mick Winslow was terrified. Previously, the most frightening he had experienced was a zip-line when he was twelve, but compared to the cats, that was like a stroll through the park.

 As Mick ran from house to house, trying to keep out of sight, he saw a woman standing calmly among the cats. Not only that, she seemed to order them. He went to get a closer look. There she was, among the yowling, screaming demon cats that appeared to be under her command. She was the tallest woman Mick had ever seen, standing at least six foot. It was bafflingly impossible to determine what she was wearing. It seemed she was wearing everything, and her clothes blended and warped into new shapes with every passing second. Her features were average, yet after he looked away, he could not recall what she looked like.

Then, as he thought about what to do in such circumstances, he remembered what had taken place that morning. The catnip. He knew of a nursery nearby that specialized in catnip. After grabbing handfuls of plastic bags from his house, he sprang onto his bike and sped to the nursery. When he arrived, he entered the greenhouse and crammed the bags full to bursting.

“Hey now! What are you doing?” The owner cried.

“There’s no time to explain now!” Mick replied, pressing some bills into his hands, “Take this, it should cover it.” The owner looked on in shock as Mick slung the bags over the handle bars and rode away.

“There’s a story behind this and no mistake,” he muttered, “one day I’ll learn it.”

As Mick rode on, the adrenaline that had been rushing in his veins faded away and his legs began to tire. Already he could dimly hear the screams as the invasion progressed. “Come on now Mick,” he told himself, “this is the home stretch.” Legs burning with fatigue, he pressed on until he reached Buckner. Most of the houses were demolished, and as he watched, a cat swarmed up a telephone pole and chewed the wires to bits. He snuck to where the tall woman stood, overseeing the destruction of Buckner. The cats had all congregating around her.

“Well done, my friends,” he heard her say, “You have exceeded my expectations.”

Mick slipped into a nearby house with the catnip and climbed up to the second level. From his vantage point he could see that a few last cats were making their way to the woman. “Wisely and slowly,” he whispered, “they stumble that run fast.” He took a deep breath. “One.” He swung the bags forward. “Two.” They rocked back. “Three!” he shouted, and flung them into the pack of skeletal beasts.

Within a moment the cats had flung themselves eagerly at the bags, tearing at them viciously. Mick and the Tooth Faerie covered their ears tightly as hundreds of cats began to purr in a bone-rattling chorus. “Stop!” screamed the Faerie in desperation, but the cats were so loud that her plea went unheard. They were so frantic to get to the catnip that they began to tear themselves apart with uncanny strength. Pale bones jangled and clattered together. Ribs became intertwined and snapped. Teeth cracked on pallid skulls. Soon, the ever diminishing number of cats was fighting in a pool of gleaming pearly liquid. It gathered and separated from itself into tiny white objects. As Mick looked on in horrified fascination, the pile of teeth grew and grew and the number of cats shrank. Finally, there were only a few left. They chewed contentedly on the catnip.

“Still.” hissed the Faerie, shaking with rage. The cats obeyed, and the Tooth Faerie walked towards them wrathfully. One after another, she ground her feet into their bodies, turning them to dust before they thawed into liquid. Then, she sank to the ground and wept, banging her fists against the ground.

As Mick sat in silence, he began to feel sleepy. Not knowing what he should do next, he felt that there was certainly nothing wrong with resting for a while. Police soon arrived and found the Tooth Faerie. Nobody knew anything about her, and she died later that day, though the coroner could find no cause. She had simply given up. After the disaster of the teeth, the Faerie had lost the will to live.

VI.

Mick woke to a peculiar sight. He was lying on a legless table on the second floor wrecked house. Some of the roof was missing, and the sun was taking a bath in a splash of evening sky. However, the strange part was the heap of bones on his chest.

“Ugh!” he muttered, pushing them off, “Who would do such a thing?” Then, to his surprise, the bones began to move. One of the Faerie’s cats had escaped the carnage, and with no orders, it had done what most cats would do. It found a warm lap to sleep on. As it rubbed its head against Mick’s leg, Mick began to feel sorry for the thing.

“Huh,” he said, “I think I’ll name it Bubba.”

“Meow.” Said Bubba.

The End

The Turtle's Pet Dragon- by Hector Weber

There was a turtle name Keven, who loves to go out in the wild and explore. He was a very curious turtle. One day Keven went out in the woods like he always did, so he went on the same trail and saw the same things, like deer bunnies and squirrels. So he just kept going on, because it was a nice day. After a little while later he heard a loud noise nearby and since he was curious he went where he thought the noise came from. There were trees knocked down and grass flattened. He saw a very big animal, and he didn’t know what it was at first, but then he saw it was a dragon. He had never seen one before and just heard about them. The dragon was hurt since he got wood through his wings and couldn’t move. So the turtle wanted to help him, then he got his friends together and they got the wood out of his wings and took care of the dragon. Days went by and the dragon got better and better. Keven named him Fire. Fire was very big and strong. When he got better he could fly and move again. So he took Keven for a fly because the turtle never has been in the air. The turtle was so happy he was filled with joy. The dragon was happy as well because he finally had a true friend.

Fatman and Pobin - by Paul Merkel

November 17th, 2012

 Our tale began in the Plottington orphanage, where a young boy by the name of Pobin sat, waiting for another dull interview by potential parents. Pobin was only ten, so it’s not like he was WAY too old, but Pobin’s name was a bit odd and so was he. Pobin’s dithering was interrupted when a large man with a rather odd gait settled into the chair across from Pobin, piercing his apathetic musings. Accompanying him into the drab room where all these interviews took place was his handler, Ms. Devitt.

 Ms. Devitt was a young twenty-something, not the type you’d expect to see taking care of orphans, but in reality she was just waiting for her lumberjack boyfriend from Oregon to gather the funds to marry her and whisk her away to somewhere else, presumably happy and way out of reach for a boy like Pobin.

 “Ulysses, this is Pobin.”

The large man mumbled something unintelligible.

“I’m sorry Ulysses?”

“Call me Fatman.” Ms. Devitt did a double take, obviously taken aback at this request. And who could blame her?

“Well, Pobin, this is Mr...erm...Fatman. He’s a very busy man, and he’s been very generous to take the time out of his day to inquire about your potential as a member of his family.”

“Team.” The man spoke again.

“Sorry?”
“Or duo. Whatever works for you.” This one was definitely a little strange, Pobin decided.

  “Let’s start with the questions, then!” Usually as apathetic as Pobin during these things, today she was more enthusiastic--and nervous--then Pobin had ever seen her. The man leaned forward. “Please. So, Pobin. You’re a young lad without much general motivation. Have you ever thought about becoming a superhero?”

 This struck Pobin as very weird. But, he thought, perhaps this Fatman character was going for a head-in-the-clouds type.

“Well, sure. It’d be great to fly away from everything, maybe beat up some bad guys. I think I’d like that.”

“Fantastic. How do you feel about severe danger to life and limb?”

He had to think about this one. On the one hand, he liked his limbs where they were. On the other, he did NOT like his life where it was, and it wasn’t like “severe danger” was a guarantee.

“I feel like I could-”
“I’ll take him!” Fatman scribbled his signature onto the papers Ms. Devitt had laid out, and the rest is history.

 As they were leaving the orphanage, Pobin asked, “So what IS your angle in all this, Mr. Fatman?”

Fatman looked down at the boy and smiled. “You’re going to be a superhero.

November 17, 2016

 In the four years that had passed since that day, Pobin had learned many things, the chief lesson being Fatman’s incompetence. It took very little time to discover that, despite his generosity, Fatman was simply a manchild who read too many comic books.

  And despite all the talk of teaching Pobin to be a superhero, he ended up outsourcing most of Pobin’s training, which, in retrospect, may have been a good thing. Pobin ended up with four years of martial arts training, altogether too much knowledge about burglary, and basic first aid to boot. As a matter of fact, the possibility of Pobin being a better, if untested, crime fighter than Fatman was very real.

 Pobin had never actually seen Fatman fight any crime. He was assured time and time again that Fatman was a real superhero, but he had witnessed little to no evidence that Fatman could do anything past put on tights and ball his fists.

That all changed on the seventeenth of November, 2016, Pobin’s fourth “birthday.” While Pobin was actually fourteen and had a real birthday(it was May fourth), Fatman insisted Pobin’s life had not really begun until Fatman had taken him under his wing. Early in this momentous day, Pobin was sitting, cleaning the counter of Ex Machina Comics, the store owned and facilitated by Fatman himself.

 Pobin was pondering how Fatman would celebrate this year when the sound of the intercom squawked through the little store.

“Would Pobin please report to The Cave, thank you!”

The Cave was what Fatman called the dank basement of Ex Machina, which served as the headquarters for Fatman’s passive-aggressive crusade for justice.

 “You wanted to see me?” Pobin asked as he trudged down the rickety steps to The Cave.

“I did! Listen to me, lad. You’ve come a long way in the four years you’ve been my protege, and now, I think...it may finally be time...for you to join me in my war on injustice.” This was possibly the best news Pobin had received in four long, boring years.

“Really!? When do I start?”

“As soon as you don the uniform of our campaign against the darkness of scum and villainy.”

  Fatman held out a rather garish costume. I won’t go into detail, but suffice it to say there was too much red, and too much shoulder padding, and way too much spandex. The costume was a small detractor, Pobin thought, but certainly bearable. Five minutes later, Pobin was clothed in the Garments of Justice and was sitting with his mentor at what Fatman called the “Command Center.” It was really a beat-up card table, but Pobin was too excited to care.

  “So...what’s my first assignment?” He said, barely able to contain his excitement. Fatman grinned a grin that can never mean anything good.

“You will be filling out parking tickets.” A worthy assignment, Pobin mused, if not for one problem.

“I’m not a law enforcement officer. How can you expect me to hand out parking tickets if I don’t have the legal authority to do so?”

“Now is not the time for questions, my boy! I’ve already got the tickets ready.” Fatman reached into his desk and pulled out an assortment of paper documents that looked like they had been made in Powerpoint in five minutes.

“Well, I’ve got important crimefighter business to attend to. Have fun with that!” And he was gone.

  Pobin sighed. He wasn’t sure what he expected, perhaps something a little more...legitimate? It was dumb to get his hopes up. That is, until a thought struck him. What if he proved to Fatman that he really could fight crime? It’d guarantee more real missions out in the field, and he’d get a taste of that “severe danger to life and limb” he’d been promised.  And so, on November the seventeenth, Pobin set out to fight some crime.

  It wasn’t as easy as you’d think. It was really dark and rainy that night. Not to mention that while running across the rooftops was quicker than on foot, it was still slow. Our hero had scoured at least five blocks now, and was beginning to lose hope until, miraculously, he spied two dark figures in the alley below. The shorter figure was backed into a corner, and the other one, a tall, burly fellow, was holding something long and shiny...what looked like...a knife!

  Not wasting any time, Pobin raced to the nearest fire escape and began a mixture of actually running down the stairs and jumping entire flights, making it to the alleyway in probably-record-time. And a good thing, too; that knife was getting dangerously close to the flesh of that unfortunate victim.

“Halt! I’m placing you under citizen’s arrest! Drop the knife and come quietly!” Pobin shouted. The man with the large, scary knife seemed to consider this for a minute, but decided against this. He took a step towards Pobin, and all of our young friend’s martial arts training seemed to vanish in an instant. He only stood frozen as the potential assailant continued to march toward him.

 The man lunged; there was a knife lodged in Pobin’s ribs; and then there wasn’t. Pobin’s red costume somehow got even redder than before, and not in a good way. He fell to the pavement, gasping for breath, and tried to take stock of the situation. None of his vital organs seemed to be punctured, always a good thing, but he wasn’t exactly in crime-fighting shape. Things were looking rather grim for Pobin, and hope for advancement of his superhero career was draining fast. That is, until a familiar voice cried out from the rooftops.

 “Pobin! Hold on, Chum!” It was Fatman! The hefty hero hurried down the fire escape, taking considerably more time than his trainee, and approached Pobin’s attacker with as confrontational a glare as he could muster.  Fatman was not eager to share his apprentice’s fate.

  Five seconds and a swift kick to the family jewels later, and the mugger was curled up on the same ground as his victim, and the victim in question was being helped up by his adopted father. Pobin was equal parts relieved and ashamed, Fatman’s confrontational glare shifting directly from the mugger to himself. On the ride home, Fatman’s tiny station wagon was a cage of ice and disappointment, the silence only broken to ask what Pobin wanted at the chinese takeout place.

 Dinner was cold. Well, the actual dinner was warm and pretty good, but the cold of the station wagon carried all the way back to the cave, where Pobin stared quietly at his noodles, the bandage on his side itching up a storm. Quiet, until Fatman finally spoke up.

“I’ll bite. What were you thinking?” The hole of shame in Pobin’s stomach only grew, and he began to sweat.

“Well, I hope you’ve realized by now that I can’t really fill out parking tickets and I...I just wanted to show you that I’m worth more than that. I wanted to show you that I could be a real superhero, not the kind in comic books. It was stupid, and I’m sorry.” Fatman sat back in his chair, obviously thinking it over.

“Well, why didn’t you just say so, my lad? Instead you went out there on your own, and if I hadn’t been following you, you could have been killed!” This only made Pobin feel worse, and it showed. And while Fatman is a dense man, he’s not THAT dense.

“What really...what really matters is that you’re okay,” Fatman mumbled, not used to this sort of speech.

“And you know, if you really want to, I think some ice cream would be a better birthday present than a stab wound.”

And that’s how an orphan by the name of Pobin got ice cream and a stab wound for his not-birthday

Mission Sodor- by Kathleen Watkins

Sea salt whipped George’s face. He could see the island on the horizon, his home, but also the land of his nightmares. Now it was only one thing; his mission. Threatening the world, this malfeasance had to be destroyed. Sodor Island.

George the steam train was flying towards it inside the cockpit of Todd the helicopter. While Todd was a good friend and an even better comrade, even he didn’t know George's history with Sodor. Todd had been one of the agents to find George washed up on the shore of the mainland. Subsequently, Todd had also been the one to convince George to become an agent of C.A.R.L. (Crew for Apprehending Rogue Locomotives) like himself. But Todd didn’t know George's past or why he’d been so eager to be a part of this mission and stop the trains of Sodor.

The scenic mountains were approaching quickly. Soon the quarries and lakes would come into focus. George opened his computer database making sure his boxcar and cargo was safe, secure and accounted for. “Heat-seeking missiles? Check. Boxcar bay release doors? Fully operational.  Boxcar turrets? Loaded and ready.” Finally, George checked the big one. It was ready. This was what the mission was all about. An atomic bomb.

“Reaching destination in two minutes, commander George.” Todd relayed into George’s headset. George looked out at Sodor Island, almost directly below him. Tremendously verdant, Sodor’s forests and snowcapped mountains, towns and tracks were as picturesque as ever. George felt a pang of nostalgia, recalling his adventures growing up upon that small haven. Then he remembered his atomic cargo. George shook himself out of his reverie and reminded himself of the truth.

“All that resplendency is hiding is the blood-soaked scars of the land. There’s nothing down there but evil, murdering trains. A blight that must be destroyed.” George fell into a flashback. Seeing the fires and terror once again, he remembered the rogue trains that had conquered the isle and killed all the innocents. He remembered John. That is why the mission must be completed.

George was brought back to the present with a yell from Todd.

“500 yards to the drop spot, George!” 

“Thanks!” George readied the bomb for release. Suddenly, he heard a whirring. Flying towards them menacingly was Harold the helicopter! And inside his cockpit was the blue demon himself, Thomas the Tank Engine.

“Todd! Prepare for battle!” George bellowed as he charged up his turrets. George heard   the “rat tat tat” of bullets whizz past. The battle began. They rained a maelstrom of projectiles upon each other. Todd and Harold swooped and dove, dodging missiles and explosions. Finally, Todd maneuvered George over the bomb drop spot. But, oh no! George felt a hit! His boxcar was shot, and the cargo hold’s bay doors were jammed. He couldn’t drop the bomb. George frantically schemes a solution.

“Todd, fly me straight into Harold!”

“Are you insane? We’ll be sliced to bits!” Todd yelled

“Just trust me! I have a plan!”

Todd roared in confusion but plunged toward their enemies. As Harold’s deadly blades spin closer, George grimaced in fear. Until he heard the whistling laughter of Thomas.

“Ha ha! You’re doomed! I’ll end you just like I ended that little conductor of yours!”

John. George gasped, remembering their undying friendship. Then, three years ago, the other trains had all gone rogue, and started taking over. It had been Thomas himself, the leader, whom George had seen kill his conductor. He’d tried to stop him, but two, then four, then six, then eight of his cronies had jumped him. He’d refused to join their diabolical group and so they’d tied a couple weights to him and sent him to sea, “swimming with the fishes”. It had only been  because they’d tied the weights improperly (being trains) that’s he’d survived and floated to the mainland.

George yelled in anger “Fly me into Harold now!”

Todd obeyed and George positioned himself carefully. When Harold’s blades collided with George, they sliced right through his jammed bay doors. Opening immediately, George’s boxcar released the atomic bomb.

“Pull up! Pull up!” George screamed. Todd did, snapping Harold’s caught blades in the process. George watched as Thomas, Harold and the bomb dropped to the surface below.

Todd, damaged but working, began flying back to C.A.R.L.’s HQ. George felt the heat of the atomic explosion destroying his childhood home behind him. He felt a stab of loss, but he’d done what he had to do, he looked down at the sea, the blue-green water the color of John’s eyes. George smiled.

“You can rest in peace, old friend, you can rest.” Mission complete.