《52 Stories in 52 Weeks: A Short Story Collection - 2022 Edition》


 Introduction

    Staircase Hotel (The Strange Unending Tales of  Dr. Albius StrangeGlove)


    Note: The stories in this series are a mind-f* of bizarro what-the-hellness, have no endings, and it is left up to you the reader, to determine both what the hell is going on and what you think the ending was.


    This is straight up Bizarro/Absurdist Kitchen Sink Fantasy, so don''t expect it to make a lot of sense. It''s just a weird thing I wrote for the fun of it, because I wanted too.


    As part of the 52 Stories in 52 Weeks Writing Challenge, this story was written in under 7 days, and our first entry Staircase Hotel, is using this writing prompt as inspiration: [WP] A ghost of a knight has sworn to aid you in the darkest hour of your life. You gradually forgot about The Red Knight, remembering it as a weird dream. But now, as the clock hits 12:00, Monday, he appears before you.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    You can find the original writing prompt, the entries written by other authors, or submit your own entry: HERE</a>.


    I will be picking a new writing prompt every week, and writing my entry for week 2 of 52 stories in 52 weeks Challenge.


    Want to join the challenge? It''s easy. You can start your week 1 today. Just grab a writing prompt from anywhere, and spend a week writing a story, then upload it somewhere for people to read it. Be sure to include the writing prompt so other writers can use it too.


    I''ve listed this as "Reader Interactive" because the main character is YOU/2nd PoV, and the ending is left open for the reader to make up an ending on their own.


    Due to the nature of the 52 Stories in 52 Weeks Writing Challenge, no book in "The Strange Unending Tales of  Dr. Albius StrangeGlove" series will ever have more than 7 chapters, and will be considered complete, once the end of the week is finished.


    I hope you enjoy reading this series as much as I have enjoyed writing it.


    Many hugs, from EelKat

 Staircase Hotel: Week 1 of 52 - Challenge Day 1

    ~o0o~


    The children gathered around Dr. Albius StrangeGlove as pulled out his strange story book, settled down in his chair and began to read...


    "Today, we are going to read Staircase Hotel..."


    ***


    The Demonic Outlands of the Lost is the dark and dangerous world of the undead. Staircase Hotel, was their only hope. If people wanted to survive, they had to reach Staircase Hotel. But few did. Most were overtaken by the undead and became undead themselves.


    But the demons had to be dealt with, or they would overrun the entire land and gain control of the entire world.


    As you enter the town, you see signs of battle.


    It''s a realm of death, where even the most powerful beings fall victim to disease or age. In the centre, however, there are seven lights that glow with an unholy yellow hue; these lights lead towards the lighted land of The Demonic Outlands of the Lost. The lights are what keeps the demons alive while those creatures from the dark, who don''t have souls are kept away from the lights.


    Demons are unable to live in the light, hence the lights are their salvation, a prison of sorts that keeps them from dying.


    This was Staircase Hotel''s power. It produced the lights. People were guided by the lights. The lights were what made the world turn. Now, strange things are afoot. The lights are dark.


    In the town, you also notice something is amiss.


    In The Demonic Outlands of the Lost, everything goes wrong. You can never be safe in this world for long. Not even with the lights provided by Staircase Hotel. You always have to watch your back at all times or the shadows will come after you. And no matter how far you run or how well you hide you won''t be able to get away.


    The shadows have it out for you.


    You see a few survivors wandering the town.


    No one can escape the clutches of Death. So, whenever they see something on its own they leave it alone and if someone else decides to play with the little thing then it doesn''t stay dead for very long. Even if you know how to take care of them, they still can take some of your strength away.


    Therefore, you must always be weary of your undead foes.


    There were so many dangers in the world outside of Staircase Hotel.


    You were never one to shy away from danger. You faced it head on and survived. As long as you stay cautious, survive long enough, and ward off all the evil creatures that come your way you should be fine.


    They can turn people into skeletons before they''re aware of what happened to them. This is why many avoid the lighted lands and the demons who live there. For who wants to be turned into a skeleton? Do you? To be nothing but lifeless bones, reanimated by the Lich King?


    No mind of your own?


    No free will.


    ***


    "We can still eat lasagne, though, right?"


    "Oh no! No, no, no! Of course not! Undead can not eat lasagne."


    "Why not?"


    "Only the living can eat food. Only the living can eat lasagne..."


    ***


    No ability to eat candy or ice cream or cake or lasagne!


    Praise be to lasagne!


    What would life be like if you could not eat lasagne?


    And what do they have Staircase Hotel?


    Plenty of lasagne!


    And cake and ice cream for desert!


    And you, my friend, you are very hungry.


    So of course, YOU want to get to Staircase Hotel and avoid the demons and undead along the way.


    But how are you to get there?


    There are two major settlements in the area and both are solidly defended by powerful wizards. Even if you somehow got past them, the Grand Alliance that is gathering to defend the civilized world has fortified camps all through the area.


    There are so many undead now. It''s hard to know which ones are dangerous and which ones are not. You see an undead warrior smash a skeleton''s skull with a club and the club is still in the air.


    Barely any place to walk without tripped over a shambling zombie, or a gibbering holder''s eye.


    You begin walking towards the highway that will lead you to the castle. Along the way, you can see a village and a smithy.


    The Demonic Outlands of the Lost is a world of monsters, swollen with endless armies of the undead, where flesh-eating ghouls rule the world, vampires roam the streets freely, and all living creatures are at their mercy. It was a world in which you were not meant to exist, and if someone did they¡¯d end up like the countless other souls who had fallen victim to its depravity.


    Because of the Necromancer Lord, the dead have lost their eternal rest.


    But you weren¡¯t one of them.


    No. Not you.


    You are a Human.


    A Human girl.


    A Human girl who loves lasagne.


    And cake.


    You hear a large pack of animals approach from the direction of the village.


    Oh, good. You can smell the blood of a large pack of animals ahead of you.


    The pack of animals is now less than a mile away.


    You can smell them!


    They''re upon us!


    Oh, dear.


    You hear the howling of the nearby wolves.


    Oh no.


    The wolves are coming.


    It''s time to go.


    Where?


    There is only one answer for that.


    The wolves are almost upon you.


    But fear not!


    You now have a large and heavy skillet!


    You can smash the windshield out of any nearby car and make good on your escape!


    That''s good.


    You hadn¡¯t come to the Dark Lands expecting any good to happen from it, and certainly hadn¡¯t counted on meeting such a beautiful young man. He¡¯d saved you from certain death by turning his blood red coat crimson, and what was he carrying?


    A casserole pan full of lasagne!


    For he is the world''s greatest lasagne chef and now you found yourself spending most of your time with him. And he is your beloved. Your beloved lasagne chef, who always wore red.


    But now he had become a crusader, to slay the wicked and bring the righteous to an unmerciful feast. Your beloved lasagne chef, who always wore red.


    You spent hours together exploring the ruins of the city that he used to call home and finding a new purpose in life and eating lasagne, all while you search for The Staircase Hotel.


    You''ll come across it. You''re sure of it.


    And when you do you''ll be able to rest...


    For a little while, anyway.


    For you''ve been searching for weeks, since you first heard about the lost hotel.


    And finally you find the hotel...


    It was a dark, crumbling building.


    An old ruin.


    Its walls were crumbling into nothingness as though it''d been abandoned years ago, and it looked like someone had taken the whole thing and turned it into a tomb.


    You''re almost too afraid to go near it, but eventually curiosity wins out and you venture inside.


    As you step through the doorway, you freeze.


    It''s not just because you''re afraid.


    Or at least, you think it''s not.


    You look again.


    There are stairs leading down into the dark and creepy, in basement of the inn, and as far as you can tell this isn''t the original floor plan; the entire structure has shifted slightly since then, so it no longer looks quite as much like the place that it once was.


    But then your eyes adjust to the darkness, and you see that the walls aren''t the original plaster, but rather some kind of stone.


    Still, you don''t hesitate to step into the basement, curious to see what lies beneath. What you find is far from the best, and you half expect to find undead creatures or some such, but instead you find a dusty old chamber littered with the bones of many a beast.


    It''s cold down here, and the air smells faintly musty as you take tentative steps further into the building.


    You can see a window at the far end of the chamber, beyond which lies a darkness you can''t begin to understand, but you see a second door on the other side of the chamber, beyond which you suspect may...


    As soon as you step away from the staircase, something grabs you by the ankle, and before you even realize that something is trying to pull you underground, you let out a shriek of terror.


    This draws the attention of whatever is down there, and whatever it is has just enough time to yank you down to the bottom of the stairs before it''s pulled away with an angry shriek.


    You twist around to try and free yourself from whatever has its grasp on your ankle, only to find nothing but empty darkness ahead of you.


    You can''t see a thing.


    Panicking, you shriek out a challenge, certain that something must be lurking in the darkness.


    "Show yourself!" you cry.


    "Help me," a voice whispers behind you.


    You swing around, but only find shadow and darkness.


    "Who''s there?" you cry.


    "I am."


    Your heart drops to your stomach, and fear courses through you like lightning through the heavens above, because it knows exactly who it belongs to. The scarred and blackened face of a demon who steals from children and eats eyeballs for fun.


    His face is burned into your memory, but you''ll never forget the voice.


    "Show yourself!" you cry.


    "Will you be willing to give me your name?"


    "What''s the point?"


    "So that I may better understand you."


    "What for?"


    He''s always been there watching from the shadows, watching, laughing, taunting you. Your beloved lasagne chef, who always wore red.


    His laugh echoes through the halls.


    He''s everywhere.


    And then, he stops.


    "Picker..."


    You turn around to see a pale, ghostly figure standing at the end of the stairs, a figure you would never mistake for a living creature.


    In the blink of an eye, you find yourself paralyzed in fear. Your mind can''t comprehend that something can move at such speed, let alone run away.


    He''s standing right beside you, reaching towards your face.


    You scream for help and turn around to take your leave, but his arms wrap around you and he whispers in your ear.


    "Will you be my friend?"


    "What?"


    Your eyes fill with tears as you turn, your gaze focused on him as you back away from him.


    "What are you saying?"


    He doesn''t answer you. Instead, he advances and, without warning, bites into your neck.


    This is wrong.


    This isn''t supposed to happen.


    No!


    Not your beloved lasagne chef, who always wore red!


    Your life isn''t supposed to end here.


    You try to break free from his grip, but he''s tightened it around your throat so much that you can''t draw a full breath.


    You''re never going to see anyone else again.


    You might as well make whatever peace you have with your god and accept your fate.


    Your eyes flutter and your body weakens. As the darkness takes you, you see a figure come up the stairs.


    Your hand comes up to wipe your eyes, but you find yourself unable to move. His hands wrap around yours, gripping tight as they force you back into him.


    Your vision fades and you can''t see anything.


    A moment later and you find yourself standing in some sort of bizarre out of body experience, watching the last remnants of your life fade away as the darkness takes you.


    He laughs again. He always does.


    You aren''t sure why you can''t see anything, but you take a step forward anyway, intent on finding out.


    But the floor keeps going and you fall on it with a thud.


    "I''m sorry," he says, his lips close to your ear.


    You try to scream but nothing comes out.


    He places one hand on your chest and the other on your throat and squeezes.


    "Not my fault you''re dead," you cry out.


    He releases and you suck in a breath, your lungs burning upon re-entry into the air.


    "Why''d you have to go and be so difficult?"


    "Please, just let me help you¡­"


    He raises the knife over his head, intent on slamming it into you as you beg.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    His fingers tighten in yours, and you feel the bones begin to bend. A scream rips itself from your throat as you feel his body bend in two.


    The knife gleefully sticks into his body, and it isn''t until then that you realize what he''s really trying to do. He slowly slices through the skin and flesh, his lips twisting into a smile.


    "Oh, come on," he complains, releasing you as your feet hit the ground. "Just one more fight."


    You stare at him, and all you can do is cry. He slowly turns the knife, his smile growing.


    "I don''t know why you''re so difficult," he says.


    You stumble backwards a few feet as he takes off running.


    "Please, just stop! I don''t want to have to do this!"


    You chase after him, but the darkness that''s taken you prevents you from seeing him.


    "Please!"


    You loved him so.


    Your beloved lasagne chef, who always wore red.


    You can''t let him get away.


    You have to do something.


    You have to save him.


    You have to save him from the Dark Lord.


    You have to kill the Demon King.


    You will not sit by and let this happen.


    You will save the love of your life.


    He''s there. You can see him.


    He''s beyond the reach of your arm, but you''re sure he''s there.


    There has to be a way.


    You can''t give up.


    You can''t give up on your love.


    But one day he died.


    Your beloved lasagne chef, who always wore red, he died and he became one of the undead.


    He''s standing at the other end of the hallway.


    He''s still wearing red, even in death. His red winged ghost wears a long red caftan, but it''s soiled and ripped.


    He smiles at you, but it''s a hollow, lifeless smile.


    He looks over his shoulder, eyes widening when he sees you. He turns back to you as you run towards him, trying to catch up with him. But he runs too fast, out of reach.


    "You''ll have to do better than that, human," he says.


    He disappears from your sight as you run around a corner.


    "I''ll have you all in tatters before you can blink."


    He stops at a door, pulling a knife out of his pocket. The handle juts out awkwardly, like it was cut out of plastic rather than wood. The edge glints menacingly in the light. As he reaches forward, the door opens with a loud creak.


    An old woman stands there, her back to you, staring into the distance. She''s wearing a long, black dress and her white hair is tied back in a messy bun.


    A tall man steps out of the room, clad entirely in black.


    The figure reaches for something in his waistband before looking up at you, and his dark eyes meet yours. You''ve seen that look before. In the dark alleyways where you had first met, before he had killed your friend and stolen their body.


    In the smoke and the dust, you had mistaken him for an undead, but he had looked away, and you had missed your chance.


    His eyes are filled with rage.


    And murder.


    He leans towards you, the knife gleaming as his lips curl into a snarl.


    You swing your sword at his head.


    He lunges at you, and you flinch, expecting pain to follow. Instead, his arm wraps around your neck, squeezing. You struggle in an attempt to break free, before he holds you in a choke-hold. You begin to see stars as he continues to squeeze. Then your arms and legs stop working. You open your eyes before noticing the knife at your throat and the man gripping your arm.


    Before your vision begins to dim, you hear a familiar voice calling your name. The old woman steps forward, raising a hand in greeting.


    There''s no time for questions or answers. The man grips the knife tighter, slicing into your flesh as he whispers into your ear.


    "You must take us to the king. Now."


    As the world fades to black, you know the truth. This is hell.


    There is only darkness now. You have suffered the fate of the damned.


    But wait?


    What is this?


    You open your eyes.


    You are not dead?


    How can this be?


    Waking up from a death like this would mean you aren''t a ghost or spirit.


    You look around the room.


    You are in a small, round room that is lit by a single candle.


    Was it not a flash of red which saved you?


    No!


    No!


    Oh no!


    It can not be.


    It mustn''t be.


    But it is.


    So tragic!


    Your beloved lasagne chef, who always wore red, he died and he became one of the undead.


    No!


    You want to cry but cannot.


    You will hold it in and suffer like all the other cursed.


    That is the way of the world though, isn''t it?


    Yes. So sad.


    Your beloved lasagne chef, who always wore red, he died and he became one of the undead.


    No!


    He was the love of my life!


    You are still a mortal, and all mortals are doomed.


    Your blood boils with anger.


    This must not be!


    But he swore, on his death bed, to become a ghost, and haunt you forever.


    To protect you.


    To serve you.


    Never to leave you.


    No!


    You could never trust such a spirit.


    He was a coward and weak.


    A succubus of the darkest kind.


    And he vowed that he would search the world and find Staircase Hotel and take you there, and keep you safe.


    ***


    "And did he?"


    "Ah! We must keep reading the story and find out, mustn''t we?..."


    ***


    Your beloved lasagne chef, who always wore red, he died and he became one of the undead. But he swore, on his death bed, to become a ghost, and haunt you forever. To protect you. To serve you. And he vowed that he would search the world and find Staircase Hotel and take you there, and keep you safe.


    He would never leave you.


    No!


    Staircase Hotel, you say to yourself.


    It is time to go there and keep your promise.


    You stand up and look around.


    You see his silhouette in the window.


    He stands there and stares at you.


    You stare back.


    Then you smile, and he smiles back.


    You rush towards the window, but it is barred.


    You pound on the window, but it does not give.


    But alas, you don''t know that.


    You can never know that.


    He''s dead!


    He''s gone!


    Dead forever!


    You won''t ever see him again! He''s dead!


    What did you do?


    You''ve killed him!


    No, no, no, no, no, no, no!


    All alone!


    Without you!


    Forever without you!


    In pain. In misery. And lonely.


    And alone.


    And cold.


    And hungry.


    For lasagne.


    There will never be lasagne again.


    You look down towards the window.


    You see him there, at the very edge of the roof.


    The smell of lasagne wafts towards you.


    The lasagne chef!


    He''s dead, but you still hope he might see you again someday.


    You think that maybe one day the two of you could meet again. Perhaps at an inn. Maybe somewhere close by.


    But then something else occurs to you.


    What if he''s not dead?


    What if he''s haunting this very inn?


    What if he is here, now?


    Maybe you could visit him wherever he lives, in the land of the undead, and he''d give you some of his lasagne to taste.


    You''d ask him. You promise you will.


    Because he''s dead, you think to yourself. He can''t come back. He''s a spirit. Nothing more. You know that to be true.


    Maybe you could even go to the same inn together, and eat lasagne dinner together. Or maybe you could visit him after your travels, and you could sit down with each other and enjoy a meal and chat about anything and everything, and then just as quickly as it came it was gone again and the next moment you were back where you began...


    You''re a ragged, miserable, cold, hungry, lonely and depressed being, and you''re going to keep on travelling alone.


    It seemed like such an exciting idea that you couldn''t help but ask yourself why anyone would choose to be dead for a second time. After all, what kind of person decides to stay dead twice? What kind of person chooses to stay dead a thousand times? It doesn''t make sense. Doesn''t it?


    The reason you can''t understand it is that you''ve already lived a life. You know what living is all about. This isn''t something you''d ever get used to.


    Do you wish for a better life?


    Your life was simple until one day you came upon a monster that could only be described as a demon.


    This awakened within you an adventurous spirit, and from then on you set out on an endless search for more excitement. More things to do, places to go, and people to meet.


    A lasagne demon. That''s what this is. You never thought you''d see the day when you''d actually be looking forward to going to bed.


    "Get out of here, stupid!" you snarl.


    A being created entirely of pure hatred and malice and lasagne.


    You''re not afraid of it. In fact, you''re intrigued. The more it protests and the more it fights, the more you''re interested.


    Its sole purpose was to hunt down every living creature in sight, but that wasn¡¯t enough. It made a point of stealing all the world''s lasagne as well. The fiend! For some reason this being desired the destruction of every human alive, so it sought to kill every single person it came across, and do so, by depriving the world of the cheesy goodness we call lasagne!


    But you have a mission. You set off to find the stones and put an end to this menace once and for all.


    Why? Because you''re a dum-dum.


    What did you expect would happen when you set off to slay a demon that wanted to eliminate the cheese?


    You''re not dead yet.


    Why, when they have so many options? So many great things to eat, and drink, and so much deliciousness around them, not to mention all of these wonderful things people are capable of creating, why should it want to waste it? Why did it decide to destroy everything, and everyone?


    The world is going to pay dearly for this.


    You didn''t come halfway across the world just to fail.


    If this being knew that its creation caused so much suffering among the humans of the earth, surely it would change its ways right away, if only to make up for its mistakes.


    You are going to find the stones, and then you are going to bring this horrible creature to justice.


    But how?


    This being didn''t know how to repent or feel sorry for itself; it had no reason to apologize for its sins or try to make amends. Instead, it decided to kill.


    It killed everything it could, and then it killed those things that wouldn''t die, and then it killed again, and again, and again, till nothing was left.


    Just like that, it killed everything it came into contact with.


    Everything.


    From a little girl and her dog, to an old woman on her bicycle, all of them lost in an instant. There wasn¡¯t a single life left in the entire world that hadn¡¯t been destroyed, not one single human soul that wasn¡¯t destroyed by this being.


    Perhaps you have a different destiny. Perhaps you will be the one to destroy this demon that wishes to blot out the sun.


    The only thing standing between humanity and complete annihilation is a few very small beings: the undead. They had taken over this area a long time ago. They were the creatures that lived beneath the ground. Those creatures, whose existence the demons had failed to eradicate!


    They had allowed their own creation to go to waste! Why, some of them were still running around in human form, completely unaware of their true natures!


    In preparation for the upcoming battle between the clans of the Flaming Pit, a tournament of warriors has been declared open. The greatest fighters will be rewarded and honoured with the greatest prize in The Demonic Outlands of the Lost: a lifetime supply of lasagne!


    You were once a great fighter in your own right. You held your own in a sword fight against an entire room full of goblins. You were the champion for many years.


    And the nerve of this, this, this lasagne stealing demon!


    He thinks he can defeat your through trickery and deceit? Impossible!


    However, when you tried to kill it with your sword it simply disappeared into thin air, leaving behind nothing but it''s clothes and weapons.


    So there you are, unarmed and dressed in your best fighting armour, in a place you and your allies never even knew existed. Not only is the demon a trickster, he is a trickster of the highest level!


    The Demonic Outlands of the Lost. is a world where civilization has risen and fallen many times, the remains of once great cities litter the land, great statues and towering buildings lie in ruins, and ancient war machines rest on the abandoned battlefields. In this ever-changing and vibrant world the clans of the Flaming Pit, engage in an age old battle of magic and science; where the weak cling to the vestiges of once great civilizations and fight for power over the scraps. The world draws near an end, a great evil has arisen, and heroes must rise to protect what is left and restore the glory of a once great people.


    You have been chosen to represent your clan in this upcoming war. You will not only be fighting for your own survival, but for the survival of your people and everything you hold dear.


    There is a strange smell in the air.


    Join the battle and wage war against the coming apocalypse.


    The demon''s words taunt you. You''re certainly not going to bow to him, are you?


    Then a booming voice assaults your senses.


    A voice speaks, and it is as clear as water.


    It all starts now.


    But what can you do? You are no warrior. You are you, a tinkerer. You have lived all your life in this small farming town in the clans of the Flaming Pit,. You are a tinkerer, and expert in the working of metal and engineering. You''ve moved to this town to help the aging blacksmith repair his equipment. You''ve lived here for a few years, and have become good friends with the blacksmith. You''re known to be a quick and competent tinkerer, and have earned a reputation among the town''s smiths.


    You have no previous military experience, and little combat training. The closest you have come to fighting is when you spar with the smith a few times a week.


    You lay on a large bed of woven grass stuffed with furs. You are used to sleeping on the ground, but a soft bed feels really nice.


    You notice a series of small, circular indentations in the ground, and these make you think of a wine glass.


    But when your beloved lasagne chef, who always wore red, died and became one of the undead, you vowed to kill all of the world lasagne thieving demons!


    Yes.


    That is exactly what you did.


    You have no idea how you''re going to fight the coming apocalypse, but you have an idea of who you want to fight it for.


    And you would carry on alone, in search of the great Staircase Hotel! You would save Humanity from the hoards of undead!


    Or so you said.


    However, you are a woman of action, and it is what you do. You''re not one to sit around and wait for something to happen.


    It was only a month after your banishment of the world''s last lasagne demon. You had heard that the demon armies were amassing in the mountains to the west, and you felt it was time to start your journey.


    The next day when you returned to the area the creature had been there, only you and your clothing remained. There was no sign of the creature or any other creature of the night. You assume it either fled, or was destroyed.


    You were standing in the midst of the demon''s former territory, staring around you. You felt as if you were in a dream, a strange and terrifying dream. All around you, the grass had turned to blood, a viscous, crimson liquid. It oozed out from the very ground, saturating the soil.


    Ghostly knights from realms unknown stand guard to protect the living. Blood runs down their armour and stains their lances. They are a grim and terrifying sight.


    The demons themselves howl and scream, but have been rendered speechless.


    Magic blast with deadly accuracy from unseen wizards. Demons and undead warriors gather under the great tree on the other side of the river. The magic blows their bodies apart one by one.


    But their magic doesn''t touch you, for you are not a demon, and you are not an undead warrior. You are a wanderer with a mission.


    In the land of the dead, a great and terrible evil reigns that threatens life and death for all those who live, but if one has the power to stop it in its tracks, they have the chance to prevent their own demise.


    You will not stop until that threat is gone.


    You are heading to a meeting place with a few others to plan your final battle with death.


    Only you remain.


    Do you wish to continue?


    And you are you.


    The crimson grass fades away.


    You''re in the middle of town, in the daylight.


    And you know that you are finally safe.


    You have a destination now. You have a goal.


    One brave soul has taken it upon themselves to challenge the demon''s former stronghold. With a handful of followers, they stand against the might of the demon''s undead and mystical army.


    There are two paths before you, and you know which one to take.


    The first is the path of darkness.


    The ghost red knight watches as a woman with a long, pale braid walks down an aisle of the graveyard toward them. She¡¯s dressed in flowing white robes; the hem reaches halfway up her thighs. The moonlight catches on the golden cross strung across her neck. The spirit can feel it¡¯s presence, its energy radiating off this person, like heat rising off a hotplate. They¡¯re scared. Their face is pale, lips pressed tightly together, eyes wide. And though they don¡¯t make any threatening gestures, Ghost knows they mean no harm.


    "What do you want?" the woman asks as she stops in front of The Red Knight.


    "We serve the same lord, so we''re here on the same mission. I wish to parley with you."


    "What are you?"


    The Red Knight doesn''t answer; he simply tilts his head.


    "Why are you here? What do you want? What is your name, demon?"


    The Red Knight looks around. They are in a graveyard.


    "Can we win this battle?" The frightened woman asks of her companions.


    "I don''t know."


    "Then why are you here? Do you wish to die? This is a world of darkness. Why would you choose this path? Are you suicidal?"


    Silent, the trio walks through the cemetery, heading toward the demon''s former territory.


    The undead and the demons used to be one of the most powerful forces on the dragon''s realm, until a long time ago.


    Their voice rings out in the dark, loud enough to catch the attention of other villagers milling about nearby. They look up. The three are engulfed by a shadowy black spectre.


    The black figure growls, revealing sharp claws. It''s horrifying visage pierces through the fog of the other''s fear.


    "You cannot win this battle," The spectre says. "But you three may still survive and escape with your lives."


    "Who are you, Ghost. Speak. Tell us your name!"


    ¡°My name is Tinsel Mango Lemonsauce. What¡¯s going on here?¡± The words are spoken heavily accented, but still understandable. The spirit feels as though this woman should know the answer. As the question comes out of her mouth, they think back to their conversation with their master.


    "We came here to speak with you about the war," The Red Knight says.


    "Ah, the war. It''s been going on for centuries. What can three little people do?"


    They''re in trouble. There''s no doubt about it. With their small stature, they can''t hope to win this fight on their own. But they need to figure out a way out of this predicament, fast.


    "The clans have gathered for an army," Ghost says. "If you wish to join us, you can. I can grant you passage through the skies above this land; you can avoid the demons completely."


    "What? There''s not supposed to be any fighting!"


    "There will be if the emperor gets his way. He plans to unite all the clans under his rule, and bring this war to the world."


    The spirit is not human. It¡¯s not alive. It¡¯s not even a ghost. It¡¯s just a thing. A thing that lives inside the body of someone else¡ªa creature called a Thullid.


    Oh yes, indeed! A Thullid. Terrible creatures who eat your brains! We''ve heard of them destroying entire villages! That''s why we''ve gotta stop them!


    The villagers look from one to the other.


    It was created as a weapon. One for slaughter and destruction. For war. That¡¯s what they¡¯ve been made for. But who will be the first to use them?


    "We need to stop fighting and make peace," The Red Knight says. "I will join you."


    "We need someone to go with us," the man says.

 Staircase Hotel: Week 1 of 52 - Challenge Day 2

    "We''ve gotta help them," The woman says, her eyes welling with tears. "We can''t leave them. You gotta do it."


    "We''ll go with you," you say.


    "I''m sorry. I cannot allow you to interfere in the tournament. You three will have to find another way."


    "But¡ªbut¡ªbut¡ª"


    "Now," The Red Knight says, putting her hand on her sword.


    They turn to leave.


    "Just don''t forget about us!" Lady Tinsel Mango Lemonsauce says.


    They are nothing more than tools. Nothing more than weapons. Just weapons. Nothing more.


    They do not care.


    The tournament begins.


    There are ten contestants.


    Ten humans.


    Ten gods.


    One will emerge the victor.


    The judges look over the contestants one by one.


    They''re all very strong.


    But you are not interested.


    Not really.


    There¡¯s no need to be.


    They have no soul.


    Not like you and me.


    And so you continue on and leave them to their battle.


    Your sword is ready.


    Your shield is ready.


    Your bow is ready.


    And it''s time to hunt.


    You jump on the horse and quickly ride out of the town.


    A tear falls from the woman''s eye, and lands with a squelch on the dirt below.


    "So be it," she says.


    "What do we do?" the other two ask.


    So why does their master keep trying to force them to care for things? Why does he try so hard to make sure they know what it means to be alive?


    The ghost is angry at him.


    The ghost won''t let him forget what happened.


    He knows that the Emperor''s plan will fail.


    He sees that the Emperor doesn''t see it.


    And he knows the Emperor is doomed.


    They were happy with their job.


    When they were young.


    Happy.


    They had a purpose.


    They fulfilled it perfectly, and then his master turned them into something new. And now? They were but tool meant to take life.


    To kill.


    To maim.


    This world is not their home.


    They only pretend to be here in an attempt to fulfill their purpose.


    Which is?


    To kill.


    To maim.


    To destroy.


    To fight.


    To kill.


    The ghost is quiet for a moment, as if thinking.


    It''s quiet, now.


    They did not like this.


    They wanted to be heroes.


    They still do.


    So be it.


    They do not care.


    The woman wipes the tear from her eye.


    "What now?"


    Now, they were angry! They did not agree with this!


    No! They would not be made into tools of this man''s evil! Not so he could put them to more killing! They would not give him their all for a meaningless cause! They would not give him their souls!


    They were angry!


    And they were going to war!


    You ride through the forest.


    The trees hide the sky.


    The wind blows through the branches.


    The leaves litter the dirt.


    You find yourself in the middle of the woods.


    You''re surrounded by blood-thirsty demons.


    And you know the truth.


    There is no way out.


    This is the end.


    You''re too weak.


    You''re a tool.


    You''re not a hero.


    You were never meant to save the world.


    You know that these creatures are not meant to be killed.


    But what choice did they have?


    For they were meer ghosts.


    They would not last long if they refused.


    They would be hungry.


    They would be cold.


    They would need to go to the toilet.


    Ghosts, with no will of their own.


    They would be hunted.


    They would be killed.


    The trees are bare.


    The sky is black.


    There is no sun.


    There is only the Emperor''s will.


    You stare at the trio, aghast.


    They''re nothing.


    Just a tool.


    No more.


    Just tools.


    Tools to kill.


    And yet, the Ghost has done nothing wrong.


    You feel sorry for it.


    The Ghost has done nothing wrong.


    Not like you.


    You look at them.


    They stare at you with empty eyes.


    They do not see you as a tool.


    You stare back.


    You will not be used.


    A glint in the eye of one of the three tells you all you need to know. When his master asks them to kill, they always obey.


    Always.


    Yes.


    Always.


    Every time.


    Wither they want to or not.


    They did not choose to.


    They were made to.


    When the Emperor found the truth,


    everything changed.


    He destroyed the old order of things.


    He took the secrets of the gods.


    Just a bunch of ghosts.


    He made them into tools.


    Weapons for his war.


    You look at the three.


    They''re just tools.


    Just like you.


    You could become one of them.


    You look at them.


    They look at you.


    It''s not their fault!


    You can''t blame them!


    They don''t know any better!


    You have to teach them!


    You have to save them!


    Ghosts aren''t meant to be tools.


    Even if it means turning away from something beautiful, something amazing, or something that makes their hearts flutter.


    No.


    You can''t give in. You have a duty to yourself and those around you (Not the same at all).


    You''re not going to give in.


    It''s up to you.


    Who will you serve?


    "The masters have spoken."


    The voice is cold.


    Distant.


    Unfamiliar.


    "It is time."


    "Yes."


    "Time to serve."


    "Time to see what kind of power we possess."


    These words give you pause.


    They look over at the man now, standing next to the woman. He wears a black hoodie and jeans, just like you and you. His hands are shoved in his pockets, but he keeps looking around anxiously.


    Because he looks like you.


    You stand there, staring at him with a look in your eyes that he will never understand.


    He turns away from you.


    "See you soon."


    You''d recognize that face anywhere.


    That scarred face.


    This is the man who can start a war.


    Or end one.


    Do you want to be on the winning side?


    Almost, because he doesn¡¯t. You¡¯re not here anymore. But¡­he still resembles you. A little. Does that mean he''ll listen to you? Is that why you''re here? To save the world from yourself? If so, you''re barking up the wrong tree.


    No, you are on the winning side.


    Your mind travels back in time.


    Oh what a tangled web we weave.


    When first we practise to deceive.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    You look back at the other ghost. He has greyish blue skin, almost like yours but paler. Long hair is pulled into a pony tail and it falls down past his shoulders. There are small scars on his face, probably from the times he got into fights. He looks dangerous.


    "You there! Stop right there!"


    You turn back around to see that the other ghost is now next to you. The woman''s voice sounds again.


    "I''m not going to kill you," you say to him. "You did nothing wrong. I''m only after the lasagne stealing demons who are trying to bar my people from getting to The Staircase Hotel."


    "That''s not how it is!" he says to you. "The Empire is using us as pawns to get to the stairs. We aren''t the ones who are trying to kill the gods!"


    You look back at the ghost that resembles you.


    But he doesn''t see you.


    He''s looking off to the side, like he''s waiting for something.


    He is wearing red.


    He looks very familiar. Familiar like a human I''ve seen before, or familiar like a demon?


    He looks like a demon.


    "I know you," you say to him.


    "I know you do," he says.


    You look around, trying to find who this man is. He''s not here. You look back at the ghosts, and try to remember where you''ve seen him. Nothing comes to mind.


    You turn to look at the woman again. She stands there, watching her companion. Her eyes are sharp and cold, staring straight ahead. The man glances at the ground and tries not to appear nervous.


    "Who are you?" you ask. "Why are you here?"


    "I''m here to help you," he says.


    "Why?" you ask.


    The world is in trouble.


    And it''s your fault.


    Because if you weren''t trying to find who this man is, then you would''ve noticed the glint of the blade coming straight for your throat.


    "I guess I''ll just have to remember you," you say, drawing your sword. "Take this."


    The man jumps back with a yelp.


    "What are you?" you ask.


    She is also a ghost, you realize. Unlike the others, she isn¡¯t wearing any armour or weapons. She is wearing a skirt, which falls down to mid thigh, and boots covered by a long-sleeved shirt. It¡¯s a plain white shirt, tucked into some dark jeans. There are also rings on both of her fingers.


    "I''m not the one you should be fighting," she says.


    You turn around to face her.


    "I''m not trying to kill the gods, I''m trying to kill the Emperor."


    The woman you''re supposed to save.


    The woman whose photograph you''ve had printed in every newspaper and on every TV news channel in the country.


    But, she''s dead. She''s a ghost. You are too late to save her.


    The glint of the blade comes again.


    "No!" you yell, blocking the attack.


    The blade bites deep into your flesh, but you manage to pull it out before the damage is done.


    You try to dodge, but it''s too late. The pain explodes in your mind and you feel your soul drawn into the sword.


    You look down.


    "Who are you?" you ask, staring directly at her.


    She stares back.


    "My name is Tinsel Mango Lemonsauce." She says.


    "It''s a nice name."


    "Thanks."


    "I''ve seen you."


    "Have you now? And what have you seen?"


    "You."


    "What about me?"


    Her hand reaches up and rubs the bridge of her nose, sighing deeply. You wonder if maybe she is a little tired. It wouldn¡¯t surprise you, if that was the case. Ghosts can only go through one day after all.


    "You were there...in the throne room."


    "How do you know that?"


    "Because I was there."


    "What. You were there, you..."


    "I was there when the Dark Gods invaded and killed everyone."


    "No, that was the last time. You have to be wrong."


    That might be the reason she¡¯s so exhausted. You think it must be. If you were being honest, you¡¯d say she looked about ready to drop dead. Not even her friend would blame her if she wanted a break.


    "I got your picture from the files."


    "Yeah, I know. I saw you."


    "What, you don''t remember?"


    "No. How could I? It''s been five years."


    You decide to ask her what she¡¯s doing out here all alone.


    No one else is around.


    Maybe she didn¡¯t want company? You remember how you used to be the type of person who didn''t like to be alone, but that was a lifetime ago.


    "Are you lost?" You ask.


    "Do I look lost?"


    "Well, you don''t have a home, and you''re..."


    She stood silent, hovering a few feet over the ground, as ghosts often do.


    "Are you looking for someone?" you say.


    "Yes. Are you him?"


    "No. I''m me."


    "Yes, and I''m Lady Tinsel Mango Lemonsauce."


    "Are you sure?"


    "Would I lie to you?"


    "Well...no. I guess not."


    She smiles, before sighing slowly.


    "It must be lonely being a ghost."


    "Why?"


    "No one to talk to. No one to..."


    She stops, before smiling again.


    After all, you¡¯re probably pretty lonely yourself at the moment, if not worse. You glance towards your companion, who seems to be lost in thought.


    "It was nice meeting you." You say, extending your hand, which she takes and shakes firmly.


    "I''m glad to hear it, and I''m sure I''ll see you again sooner or later."


    As you watched her float away you wondered why it was a ghost had a corporeal body. The thought came as a complete surprise to you, and the thought itself surprised you.


    After all, ghosts are generally incorporeal.


    You sigh and turn your horse into the direction of... wait... what direction were you heading? You glance around and suddenly realize you''re not quite sure what direction home is. You can''t remember the exact location of it, only that it''s somewhere in the northern parts.


    Well, if you go back to where you came from, you''ll probably get lost again. The sky above is a bright blue and clouds are rolling across its surface. It''s beautiful, the kind of day when every last inch of you feels happy about something or other. But as you stare up at it, you wonder if there will be any sort of rain today. Or even snow.


    You frown. Winter might be coming sooner than you think! That could be bad, depending on which side you come from. You should try and head north, maybe. Even though you don¡¯t want to risk being caught between two opposing sides, it¡¯s safer to take advantage of the weather than to spend days trekking through the woods, searching for an inn. You¡¯re still pretty far off from the city, so it won¡¯t hurt to rest here for just one night before continuing onward.


    After tying up your mount, you set about setting up camp. You gather branches and twigs to make a small fire, then start digging out some food you¡¯d managed to pack earlier.


    By the time you''ve cooked the meat and vegetables into a simple stew, you¡¯ve got plenty to eat. You eat quietly. You''ve never been one for eating around others, but right now you have little choice. You can''t very well go wandering through the woods in search of somewhere to stay if you don''t even know where you are. So you sit by the campfire and eat. You do it because it''s cold out and no sense wasting food, but you also don''t really care all that much.


    The wind howls, blowing snow down on the campfire and blowing more snow out of your hair, but you don''t even notice.


    It''s quiet and peaceful.


    You''re almost asleep when someone clears their throat behind you. When you spin round, you find yourself face to face with a tall, dark haired man dressed all in black. His eyes widen, like he''s surprised to see you awake, but it''s hard to tell with those dark clothes. He''s probably used to hiding his face.


    His skin is pale and unmarred, almost looking like marble. There''s a large scar bisecting his left eye and it looks like it''s healing nicely.


    He has long, black hair and dark eyebrows; the way they curl over his brown eyes makes him look almost sinister.


    He takes several steps away from you, and gestures with one hand towards the fire as he says, ¡°I was wondering if you would allow me to share your fire?¡±


    Your gaze flicks from his face to his hand, where you can see a few small sticks clutched tightly together. You consider him for a moment before deciding against saying anything. You¡¯d rather he was a potential ally than an enemy, though you can''t help but think that he''s hiding something.


    Well, it¡¯s not your place to interrupt him right now. You can come up with a better idea to figure out his intentions later.


    You nod.


    "Thank you," he says, drawing nearer to the fire. He reaches out, grabs one of the sticks and hands it to you. You raise an eyebrow slightly, taking the stick and giving it a small squeeze to test its strength. He gives you a slight smile, and sits himself down next to you. You lean forward slightly to examine the wood. Not only is it sturdy and thick, but it¡¯s also relatively light. A good quality for holding small flames.


    You decide you can spare it for now and set it aside, turning back towards the fire instead. He does the same, though he keeps glancing over at you as you move.


    There¡¯s a bit of a silence after that before he speaks once more, voice softer than it had been when talking to you moments ago.


    ¡°Would you mind telling me who I am, young lady? I feel like we have not introduced ourselves.¡±


    You¡¯ve known since the beginning of this conversation that it was rude to keep your mouth shut, so you take a breath to calm your thoughts, and reply. ¡°My name is Y/N, sir. What brings you out here? And please, do call me Y/N.¡±


    He looks confused, as if unsure if he¡¯d heard right. Then he smiles again, but his expression seems a bit stiffer this time.


    ¡°What are you doing way out here?"


    "I an seeking The Staircase Hotel. The undead have attacked my people. Few have survived. It is said The Staircase Hotel is a safe haven. If I can find it I will lead my people to safety."


    You pause, and look at him carefully. His voice doesn''t convey the usual emotion.


    So you watch instead.


    His face shows no fear, no worry, no anger. It shows only a desire and a will to do something.


    You wonder what he''s chasing.


    The man said no more and you went back to thinking of long ago, before the undead attacked your village.


    You remember sitting in front of your father''s tent and listening to him talk about stories of monsters that roamed the land before the world ended. You remember hearing the tales with wide open eyes, excitedly asking questions. You remember seeing your father laugh and shake his head at how much he loved these fantastical creatures.


    In the end, you remembered them only as monsters. Not people anymore. Your memories didn''t have happy endings. They were sad and lonely, as all memories seem to be.


    But the man had a similar story. A story that seemed familiar at first. But now, sitting before his fire, he has the strangest story you''ve ever heard. One that seems familiar enough to remind you of the past. But it''s strange enough to intrigue you. He seems eager to talk about it, but just as soon as you ask him about the staircase, he stops.


    The man looks at you and pauses once more.


    The king stands on a balcony of his manor, surveying the training that his people go through.


    The training grounds are filled with soldiers training for war.


    You watch as the soldier runs through the training routine.


    You watch as the soldier stands on the battlements and attempts to bend the bars of a cage with his mind.


    His head snaps up when he feels you watching him. His gaze shifts quickly from left to right, searching for someone or something. He frowns slightly and turns to look behind him. He¡¯s frowning again now.


    What is he thinking about?


    Is he upset?


    You stand there quietly and wonder what to do.


    The soldier begins to move, twirling his sword and walking forward.


    You see his face, and it''s an angry one.


    Worried?


    Sad?


    Or maybe even a little disappointed?


    No! Must stop thinking of the past. No good will come of it.


    You must stop, and you will.


    You know you must. You have to.


    You try to stop yourself, but it''s like a stubbornness is ingrained in your genes.


    No, you shake your head, you are not one for sadness. Your mind is set on the goal of becoming a hero.


    Not a do-gooder hero.


    A sword-wielding, muscle-bound, chest-stoppingly awesome hero!


    In preparation for the upcoming battle between the clans of the Fiendish Kings, a tournament of warriors has been declared open. The greatest fighters will be rewarded and honoured with the greatest prize in The Demonic Outlands of the Lost. A long period of peace has allowed the people of the Icy Cairns to forget their heritage and history. During this time of peace the people have turned into a decadent and soft people, they have become fat and weak. The Queen has commissioned new training routines in hopes to harden her people for the coming battle.


    In the arena, the warriors train with weapons that will be used in the upcoming battle.


    The champion on the balcony is Lord Victory, a towering figure covered in scars and tattoos.


    At the moment the training takes place on an abandoned battlefield. The war machine you saw earlier has been left resting and the metal sheeting has been taken away to be used in other buildings.


    "Are you going to watch the battle, sir?" a voice calls out.


    "Not possible."


    You wonder if it was your fault, maybe if you said something or asked another question?


    But you didn''t. You''re not going to make the same mistake twice.


    But the soldier persists.


    "Sir, are you going to watch the battle?"


    "Battle?"


    You try to appear shocked.


    No, you are not one for regrets. You will stand firm in your beliefs and hope that the great and mighty hero will knock on your door.


    The soldier sighs.


    "Fine. But don''t say I haven''t warned you..."


    The soldier leaves and the scene changes to the battlefield.


    It''s chaos.


    To your surprise, and relief, a figure appears.


    He is wearing a long, black leather trench coat and wields a flail. He calls out.


    "I''m here to help you with your... problem. What''s your name?"


    Whatever it was, you can stay here no longer. You have lasagne demons to kill and the Staircase Hotel to locate.


    You tell him your name, he says he is here to help you, and then you are whisked off to a hidden base.


    This is the last time you will see this handsome man.


    Years pass and you have managed to assemble a small army to fight the encroaching demons.


    The figure shifts his weight, the cape falling from one shoulder, a sword from the other.


    "So you''ve finally decided to join the fray."


    "Who are you?"


    "Just a man who is willing to sacrifice everything in order to see this kingdom succeed."


    "That''s not an answer."


    Your attention is drawn away though, when his eyes land on you.


    "Who are you?"


    "No title. Just a man who has a burning desire to be the best man this world has ever seen!"


    Your body stiffens.


    Oh.


    You feel a sudden rush of heat and suddenly find that the grass beneath you is much cooler than it should be. When had it become that hot? You blink and shiver involuntarily.


    He seems to notice and laughs.


    "I can''t imagine why you shiver. I feel like the blazing sun''s warmth on my skin."


    "I-I''m cold."


    "Here."


    You see a soldier walk up to you, a red cape flowing behind him. He holds out an armload of clothing.


    The soldier is staring at you.


    You are staring back.


    No one says anything.


    You begin to panic.


    The soldier looks at you and raises an eyebrow.


    You look away.


    "I-I was looking for clothing."


    You wonder what the soldier wants?


    He seems to be waiting for you to do something.


    "What are you doing here stranger?"


    "I was just passing through to somewhere else."


    "What is your business here?"


    You know you should be frightened, but you cannot help but be intrigued by this dark and mysterious man.


    The soldier seems to think about your answer.


    "You have not been here long. Why do you seek this path? Why are you not fighting with your king?"


    You hesitate for a moment.


    Your mind races as you try to solve the mystery of who you are and why you are here. Your eyes narrow as you decide how to respond.


    You have all the time in the world.


    "I''m a miner. I''ve come to prospect for ores."


    The soldier''s eyes widen.


    You can see the wheels turning in his head.


    This was not untrue. You had been digging for crystals a few days ago. You brought them back to the village and sold them for a small fortune. The man''s eyes narrow again.


    "You are a miner! Here in The Demonic Outlands of the Lost?"


    You''re surrounded by blood-thirsty demons.


    And you know the truth.


    The gods do not exist.


    At least not in the form of benevolent beings. You have always maintained that men created the gods in order to explain the unexplainable.


    The only power that can save us all is the power of the pen.


    You have a strong urge to tell this soldier the truth.


    Or you could continue the pretense that you are a miner, and get off the road.


    Suddenly you remember.


    You remember who you are and where you came from.


    But you can not remember why you are here.


    Thornbrood The Hellbound, is the king of The Demonic Outlands of the Lost is a powerful ruler, but his power is not absolute. He is not without weakness, as he is plagued by a powerful necromancer known as Corpsegibber The Gibbering. It was this necromancer who had turned Thornbrood¡¯s kingdom into what it has become today and forced him to flee, leading to his exile.


    He has made his home in the mountains of the West-Central Duchy of the Mutinies and still wages his deadly and deceitful war against the Clans.


    If only someone could find and destroy that necromancer, before all the world''s lasagne is destroyed!


    Thornbrood has no such luxury. Being a Hellbound demon, he is not allowed to enter the Four Holy Cities of the Clans where his kind are not normally welcome.


    The good guys are trying to stop a madman hellbent on world domination. The Necromancer is a murderer. He does not play fair. The Necromancer is a killer. He is a man without honour.


    You can''t be good guys.


    You can''t be bad guys.


    Only one thing can save us now. The power of the pen!


    What will you do?


    You look toward the heavens and pray to whatever forces are up there that you might find a way to destroy that son of a whore!


    "I am a wanderer, a simple woman," you say at last. "I have nothing, I seek nothing, I desire nothing, and I am above all things willing to die to defend the weak against the strong."


    If only it were possible for you to fly. If only you were a bird. The world would be a better place.


    If only you had some sort of super natural powers.


    If only...

 Staircase Hotel: Week 1 of 52 - Challenge Day 3

    You sigh, there is nothing you can do. You have to play this out as it comes.


    You start thinking to yourself, as you notice the approaching soldier.


    Oh no.


    The soldier is approaching you.


    You wish you could just leave your body and see what¡¯s outside.


    You wish you could just fly.


    You curse this fate that you''ve been given.


    You can''t escape the soldier.


    You can''t escape your fate.


    What will you do?


    As the soldier gets closer to you, you know you won''t be able to run away.


    You know you won''t be able to hide.


    Would you be able to tell if it was night or day?


    The soldier reaches you and you see his sharp features and long blade-like teeth.


    "Where are you going?" he demands.


    You don''t answer. You don''t have to.


    "Tell me, or I''ll..."


    He doesn''t finish the sentence.


    Instead, he grabs you by the neck with one hand, and uses the other to pull out a knife. He holds it up in front of your face.


    You feel its cold edge against your face.


    The blade glares down at you and the soldier''s eyes meet yours.


    He stares into your eyes with his deep blue ones, almost as if he wants to make sure that they''re really there before he plunges the knife into your skin.


    But he never does.


    Instead, he pulls the blade back. And then he tosses the knife aside, as though it was nothing more than garbage.


    His grip loosens on your neck.


    And then he lets go.


    He turns away from you and walks off towards where he came from.


    You watch him go until he disappears behind a corner and you''re left alone.


    You let out a shaky breath, slowly letting your mind and body relax.


    You look at your arms, which still have their marks from being gripped so tightly.


    Your wrists ache slightly.


    You wonder why the soldier didn''t hurt you further when he had the chance.


    Well, not question it too much right now.


    You take some deep breaths, and then you stand up. You turn around, facing the direction you were headed towards earlier.


    You wonder if the soldier will come back. You wait for a long time, but there''s no sign of him.


    You leave and head towards the border.


    You have no idea where to go, so you wander around, turning into random streets and alleyways, for hours on end.


    Or would you pass through walls and windows or simply fly over them, not feeling them at all?


    You shake your head.


    You will not dwell on such unproductive thoughts.


    Instead, you focus on where you are and what you''re doing.


    Soon, you come to a town on the border. There you meet a demon.


    A little one, only about three feet tall, with green scales and a fierce look in his eyes.


    "Hello," the little demon says, "you''re not from around here, are you?"


    He holds his sword out, pointing his blade at you.


    He says, "Tell me, Human. When did you last eat?"


    You tell him you''ve eaten recently, but you don''t remember when.


    The little demon smiles.


    "When? Last week? Last month? Last year?" the little demon asks.


    You tell him you can''t recall.


    The little demon just smiles.


    Would there be any difference between these and the natural world you know so well?


    Could you make a wish?


    What about food?


    Water?


    Lasagne!


    What about lasagne!


    Would you even need anything to survive?


    No. You wouldn''t.


    You tell yourself.


    You can''t think of anything else.


    You wish for lasagne.


    A moment later, you''re standing in a room, looking down at a large, bubbling pot of lasagne.


    There''s a small, demonic chef, stirring the pot.


    You wonder what to do.


    The solider from before is there.


    The soldier smiles and says, "You like lasagne too?"


    You say, "Yes, I do. Do you have any mustard?"


    Suddenly you realize if you eat, you will have to pass through solid matter, most likely, glass.


    But it''s not too late, you can still turn back.


    You can still go home.


    But what if you don''t have a home any more?


    You are unsure.


    You don''t want to find out.


    "I''ve got mustard!" the chef says, handing you a long, cylindrical bottle.


    "Thank you."


    Do you eat when you die?


    If so, then what happens when you eat flesh?


    You die.


    Would that kill you like it did Thornbrood?


    Or would a human-eating monster simply pass through you and continue on its way?


    You don''t know.


    You can''t think of anything else.


    You wish for lasagne.


    A moment later, you''re standing in a large meadow, with a forest at the back.


    There''s a small, demonic shepherd, tending to a flock of dark, demonic sheep.


    Or would it have an effect on you unlike it did with him?


    Would you just pass right through walls?


    You don''t know.


    The soldier laughs at your predicament.


    Did death even affect him in the first place?


    Or is he one of these creatures?


    You''re not sure.


    You wish you knew more about the creatures of this world.


    You look around.


    There''s a book near you.


    It looks like it might have some answers in it.


    He says, "I don''t think you''ll get far, human. I''m going to enjoy killing you."


    He swings his sword at you.


    How is it different from what you do now then it used to be?


    Nothing.


    He comes at you again.


    What will you do?


    You can try to fight the guy.


    The soldier wields a two handed sword.


    You don''t have anything that can match it physically, but you do now.


    You can wish for something to give you a chance.


    No, that would be silly.


    "I will not fight you," you say. "I''m looking for Staircase Hotel. I must get my people there before the Necromancer''s undead take them all."


    The soldier is surprised by your response, but still comes at you.


    How is it you haven''t lost yet?


    You wish for a weapon.


    "You think they will still be there?"


    "Yes," you reply.


    "Why?"


    "Because I want them to be."


    "You''re crazy."


    "No, I''m not. Just a little curious."


    "Well," the man says.


    Strange creatures have been appearing across the land. Small at first, but growing quickly in size and ferocity. They have been spotted by peasant patrols and attacked caravans as well. Their origin is unknown, only the fact that they are quick to devour their prey and fodder crops can be gleaned from those who survived.


    Reports are already circulating that the demons are being employed by large goblin tribes to attack caravans.


    "Then there''s no reason to not fight me, human," the soldier says.


    "I have no loyalty to anyone but myself."


    "That''s good," you say, "Because I don''t have any to give."


    "You''re a funny little thing," the man says.


    The man comes at you again, but this time you meet his sword with one of your own.


    The soldier falls to the ground clutching his arm.


    You''ve defeated him.


    What will you do now?


    You can go back to your own world.


    There is no point in going back to the same place over and over again.


    You can try to figure out a way back to your own world. No, first you must find Staircase Hotel.


    The questions and more questions swarm around your mind until suddenly you realize that it is getting late and that if you keep thinking too much then Thornbrood might notice you aren¡¯t where you normally are.


    So at that moment, you wish you could go to sleep.


    You have to act fast and make a decision.


    You can attempt to make your way back to the inn and attempt to complete the ritual to teleport there.


    What will you do?


    Your thoughts must have been written all over your face because he smiles at you before turning around and heading back inside the castle. You watch him go until he disappears through a door and disappear from sight.


    You''re going to have to try to complete the teleportation ritual.


    You slink back inside the inn.


    There is no sign-in desk as such, but there is a counter where the innkeeper would normally keep track of things.


    The blacksmith is still asleep.


    The moon has set and the sky is dark.


    The innkeeper asks: "What''s wrong my friend?"


    "The world is about to come to an end," you reply.


    "What!?" she asks.


    "The King has unleashed evil upon the world. An army of Elves and Giants are on their way here."


    "That''s not possible," the woman replies.


    You walk over to the forge and look down at the finely wrought iron pieces. They seem to be assembled into some sort of giant sword.


    You have the perfect opportunity to work some magic and make the materials in your inn room into your own personal tools. You begin to work the materials in your room into a weapon.


    The blacksmith awakens and says, "What are you doing? Stop!"


    Your mind goes immediately back to that moment during dinner when Thornbrood told the servants you weren¡¯t good enough to eat with him.


    You lift your weapon and tell the blacksmith, "I''m sorry, but he said I wasn''t good enough to do this."


    The blacksmith laughs.


    You''re going to use the small amount of power left over to craft tools.


    "What is that you''re making?"


    You tell him, "A weapon."


    You lean in and out of the flames.


    A blue glow begins to form in the heart of the forge.


    You hold up the blade of your new dagger.


    It''s very light, and yet you feel like it has a weight to it.


    You hold it closer to the forge and it starts to take on a more substantial shape. It becomes solid and sharpened.


    "I think you should stop there. That won''t do anything for me if I have to defend myself from an assassin."


    You nod.


    You put the dagger away and start to pack up the rest of your equipment, including your newly forged weapons.


    "How long will you be staying here?" asks the blacksmith.


    "As long as it takes. I haven''t been able to leave the town because of what has been happening with the people. But I promise we''ll be leaving soon."


    "Good. Just don''t come to my door anymore asking for help. I know I shouldn''t, but I''m too tired to say no."


    You smile and thank him for his time. You leave the smithy behind.


    You can already see the crowd gathered in the village square as you exit the building. The villagers are talking about the events of last night.


    They look scared.


    You can''t blame them.


    You''ve been scaring people half to death for the past couple of hours.


    You see a flicker of motion in the corner of your eye and it causes you to jump.


    But no!


    No!


    You shake your head and approach the villagers, who seem to be whispering among themselves.


    "What''s wrong?" You ask.


    They turn and look at you.


    No one knows where he is, save for the King of the Dead himself. This being was once a powerful necromancer, the name was given to him by the Dark Lord himself. He became corrupted with rage when he lost all the magic in The Kingdom. He wanted revenge and would do anything to take down his enemy. He went into hiding when the Dark Lord''s army attacked.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Now his name is Death.


    "This one has awakened something in the Kingdom," says the woman.


    Now, this being wanders the world, seeking to bring death to all those who oppose him.


    You shake your head.


    "I''ve been to the Kingdom. I saw no one. Where are these marchers coming from?"


    They look at each other, seemingly unsure of how to respond.


    He is called The Necromancer Lord.


    "He''s here..." says an undead guard.


    And indeed, The Necromancer Lord has come to the inn to look for you.


    You''ve got to decide whether to stay and fight and attempt to stop this threat, or if you should escape.


    This is what you''re facing.


    He found out where you were and now seeks to end your life.


    You go back to the inn and throw yourself into the cellar.


    You hide there and wait.


    After a while of searching, he gives up and leaves.


    You emerge from the cellar a couple of hours later to the sounds of clapping.


    You''re surrounded by a few dozen demons, vampires, and ghosts. You grab hands with vampires, ghosts, and demons.


    You walk through the gardens of Ghostly Barbarians'' Museum of the Blessed Buffalo County, wondering what should you do.


    He''s here.


    You know it.


    He''s watching you.


    You can feel it deep in your bones.


    He''s reading your mind.


    Yes! Reading your mind! Knowing your thoughts!


    He''s going to kill you!


    You are in the presence of Death!


    Your last hour is almost upon you!


    What will you do?


    What can you do?


    You run to the door of the forge!


    You see The Necromancer Lord!


    He''s come to get you!


    He''s going to kill you!


    You can''t let him!


    You run away


    You run to the hills with your allies.


    You are pursued by Death.


    You run as fast as you can.


    Unfortunately for the demon king, however, there were things which he should never have done. Things that he must pay for.


    He was arrogant.


    He was stupid.


    Arrogance was the source of his undoing!


    "I will have that cursed necromancer!"


    "I will have his land!"


    "I will have his blood!"


    His cries spread terror through the land.


    The citizens are scared witless.


    They want to run away, but can''t.


    The most prominent being the death of his sister, Lady Tinsel Mango Lemonsauce, which caused him to lose his mind. His obsession with getting vengeance on his nemesis caused him to commit the most horrid deed that anyone could ever imagine doing to an innocent girl.


    He tortured and killed her.


    He killed her!


    And the world had to suffer.


    The citizens are terrified of the necromancer and will do anything to avoid him.


    He''s hiding.


    But where?


    You are hiding.


    And now even his undead guards are seeking to take their revenge!


    But what can you do?


    A young girl. A little girl.


    He killed her... and now there''s only you left. You are the next target. Your death will not go unpunished.


    But you will not die without a fight.


    You pull your shield and draw your sword.


    You are ready to meet your maker.


    The undead charge.


    You now have a weapon, but you don''t know how to use it.


    What will you do?


    This is the end.


    You can only hope that your actions will be enough to atone for the evil you have committed.


    Will you do what must be done and kill the hated one?


    Or will you go down with the undead ones?


    There is no turning back.


    You have made your choice.


    The necromancer, his dark soul, and all his undead followers will die by your hand.


    You have decided.


    Nowhere to go now, is where you are, but still you don''t fear him. He cannot touch you because you are protected by magic. Magic is the key to victory against this monster. You concentrate, drawing on a power you have not used in a long time, a very long time. You reach deep within yourself, drawing upon the strength of Determination. Your goal is to create a wall of ice that will smash into the necromancer and his undead horde.


    Your sense of fear, it fills you with determination!


    You will crush them!


    You feel the power building in you.


    You begin to channel the magic through your body.


    Concentrating.


    From the very centre of the earth.


    You draw your power.


    And with a final scream, you unleash your magic.


    It is the magic of Determination, a shining beacon of might.


    It is enough to destroy the necromancer.


    From beneath the very shadows of the night.


    You focus your magic and blast the necromancer into oblivion, all that remains is a pile of ash and a few charred bones.


    You smile.


    You''ve done it.


    But the battle isn''t over.


    You see the undead still rise up, and you can feel their presence all around you.


    Victory is yours.


    But can you hold it?


    Will you continue your quest to stop the spread of this plague?


    Make a choice.


    And do not look back.


    From beneath the very shadows of the night.


    But how? What if he destroys everything?!


    How am I going to defeat him then!?


    Stop your worrying.


    You will stop him.


    The Elves and the Giants have combined their might to take on the vile creature.


    With their help, you can do the same.


    Then you hear him.


    You can''t see him, but you hear him.


    He''s laughing.


    "You are nothing."


    You drop your weapon and reach for your knife.


    "Come and get me, Necromancer."


    He''s not stopping.


    Quickly, you reach back for the first spell that comes to mind, the simplest one.


    The man who will become your enemy.


    You lunge forward, stabbing your knife into his chest.


    He grins and stabs his own blade into yours, the two of you engaging in a fierce battle of magic and science.


    He has heard your voice echoing in his head.


    "You cannot win. You are but a simple peasant. You cannot beat me."


    You push him away, and drive your blade into his heart, and he falls to the ground, dead.


    "What an interesting way to attempt to kill me. Did you actually think you could succeed?"


    "It is not about strength. It is about knowing how to use it."


    It sounds so familiar but he can''t remember from where exactly...


    It doesn''t matter.


    Your time is up.


    Determination breaks.


    You don''t reach for another weapon.


    You turn around.


    You don''t have a choice.


    The Elves and Giants are waiting for you.


    They are prepared to kill you.


    He destroys the crops.


    The peasants starve.


    And you feel the end of an eternity of pain.


    But you won''t go without a fight.


    You have no choice.


    You gather your last strength and conjure up a ghostly warrior to guard your person.


    Then you face your enemies.


    The lasagne! No! Not the lasagne! The crops of lasagne plants have all been destroyed! Why why why must everything in life be for the good of others?! Why couldn''t it be for my own good? Why must everything be for the good of others?!


    With a shriek, you fling yourself upon an unsuspecting Elf.


    You slash at the creature with your weapon, but it is no good.


    The Elf is cut in half upon the butchering blade.


    The undead horde marches towards the city.


    You can''t beat them.


    You can''t do anything against the overwhelming force.


    When the doors to your home are broken down, you fight to defend your home from the undead soldiers.


    With every breath he takes, your heart begins beating faster, blood rushing into your ears.


    You fight with everything you have, your blade cleaving through the darkness that surrounds you.


    There are so many.


    And none are like you.


    With every heartbeat, the pain becomes more intense.


    You can''t see but you can feel.


    You can''t fight, but you can fight the pain.


    You are a warrior.


    You will not go down without a fight.


    With every breath, you curse your own existence. Why did you ever decide to live this life of yours? What made you think that you could ever be anything but a farmer, tending to crops and raising livestock?


    You are not a hero.


    You are an Elf.


    Your people are the Elves.


    Your job is to produce food and raw materials so your people can continue to live.


    With every beat of his war drums, Commander Bronze Echocherries the King summons more evil spirits from the infernal plane to do his bidding. It is an endless and ever growing army.


    "COMMANDER! COMMANDER!" you hear a shrill voice screaming from the distance.


    With every beat of his war drums, you breathe a sigh of relief. He won''t destroy everything on the farm because he has no reason to. He''s got an army to do his bidding.


    A few moments later, a group of Gnomes come running up to the house, screaming and carrying a struggling Elf between them.


    I''m going to win.


    You breathe another sigh of relief.


    But then it all goes to hell in a hand basket.


    A black dragon looms over you, and for a moment you think you''re about to die.


    I have to win.


    You take a deep breath.


    You can''t die here. You can''t end like this. You have a mission to do. You have to live for your people. They need you.


    With every beat of his war drums, you breathe a sigh of relief.


    But it is gone.


    The dragon is upon you, and there is nothing you can do.


    And then it all comes together.


    I have to win.


    You breathe a sigh of relief, but you did all you could. The dragon smashes you to the ground, and you can feel the breaking of your bones. An explosion of light and pain.


    This isn''t over yet.


    You are not dead.


    You hear a voice.


    "Fey Stones. Fey Stones. Fey Stones. Get the Fey Stones."


    Your eyes open wide. Who said that?


    The Necromancer Lord has taken full control of the undead horde. He''s already broken free of the Forbidding. The only thing left to do is to confront the Necromancer Lord.


    You have been reborn.


    The Fey Stones summon the other Fey Stones who quickly gather around you.


    I''m not ready to die yet, though.


    I refuse to.


    You have a mission. You have to go and finish it, even if it means you die.


    You aren''t going to die. You are going to go and defeat the Necromancer Lord and end this all.


    I will not give up.


    Not like this.


    You have to.


    You can''t.


    You have to, Fey Stones.


    You stand with all the remaining Elves and draw on the Fey Stones, bringing forth great power.


    I will not bow to tyranny.


    I refuse to.


    You summon the Fey Stones, and the Fey Stones come forth, glowing brightly.


    You are ready.


    You are strong.


    I''ve been alive too long, fighting too many battles, too much bloodshed. I refuse to let it happen again. I cannot.


    I refuse to bow to tyranny.


    I cannot.


    You are powerful, Fey Stones.


    You must decide.


    Are you ready to end it all?


    I''m not going to give up now.


    You cannot.


    Not like this.


    Please, Fey Stones.


    You focus all of your might, all of the Fey Stones'' power, and hurl it at the Necromancer Lord.


    I''m going to win.


    You succeed in destroying the undead horde, but the Necromancer Lord simply uses his magic to make you lose the Fey Stones and is then able to kill all the Fey Stones and destroy the Fey Stones themselves.


    No matter what happens, I will not lose.


    That''s what happened with the Forbidding.


    I will not lose again.


    You are filled with rage.


    There is only one thing left to do.


    I will beat the Necromancer Lord.


    You draw your sword, and prepare to slay the Lord of Death himself.


    You do not get far.


    A dark lord''s voice booms out, and you are struck in the back.


    I need to live another day.


    You fall to the ground, wondering why you were ever even born.


    I hate you.


    "My Lord has spoken," the voice says.


    I need to fight another day.


    You are carried away and dropped off before the gates of the Necromancer Lord''s fortress.


    You awaken from a deep sleep.


    I cannot believe it.


    I''ve been beaten by the Necromancer Lord!


    For those who are alive, for those who still have a chance, for those who still have their freedom.


    We are going to win!


    The Fey Stones are returned to you, shining brightly.


    You are ready.


    You are strong.


    For those who still have their lives.


    You are wounded.


    You are dying.


    I must survive.


    You say these things to yourself over and over.


    You are dying, but you are not giving up.


    Not like this.


    You hear a growl, and a pair of fangs appears in your throat.


    It is too late to scream.


    You have everything you need.


    More than enough time to prepare.


    The Necromancer Lord''s attack on the Forbidding has been repelled.


    You will not be like Lady Tinsel Mango Lemonsauce!


    No!


    You will survive!


    You will press on!


    You will defeat him!


    You will...


    A dagger is driven into your chest.


    As you fight the death that has come for you, you hear his voice in your head...


    ***


    One child began to cry. "I don''t want to die!"


    Dr. Albius StrangeGlove turned the page.


    "But see? You do not die! Look! Lady Tinsel Mango Lemonsauce has saved you. The dagger melted away like butter. Your wound is healed. Gone completely. Now you are asleep in your camp. You wake up and it is another day..."


    ***


    You run away from the palace walls, hiding behind trees, hoping to avoid capture. You hide until you find somewhere secluded where no one can see you, a place where the dark will not reach.


    In this place, you transform into a fox and a black wolf.


    Your body is covered entirely in thick, white fur. You easily pass for a white wolf.


    You hear distant howling.


    You run away with your mate to the distant forest. There you find a cave you and your mate will make your den in.


    You howl at the moon, and your mate answers back.


    You are a pair.


    You are a wolf and a fox.


    You are an Alpha and a Beta.


    You are Kinship.


    Once you''re hidden far enough from the palace, you transform into your dragon form, and fly to the nearest landmass. There you and your mate will live in peace.


    You fly high above the Earth, crisscrossing back and forth along the greatest distances to find a mate.


    You hear an explosion.


    Will you survive?


    No.


    But, no... this is not your mate. It is not your true love. For he is dead and you must find him. Find his ghost. Your beloved lasagne chef, who always wore red, died and became one of the undead.


    Find him.


    Lose yourself.


    You howl towards the sky. Your mate answers. You hear a howl, and another howl answers. You are not alone.


    No, you will not let this happen. You will find his ghost, you will make it rise again, and you will bring him back to life.


    You are the Alpha.


    You are the Ghost Finder.


    You are The Last Hope.


    You are the only hope.


    No one can know you are here. No one can know you are here.


    But the mages have cast a curse on the people of The Entombed Gallery of Lamps and Fire. Their voices, their touch. And it has been done to all the children. No one can walk inside. You cannot go in. You cannot have anymore children.


    You cannot have anymore children.


    You will never find your mate. You will never find his ghost.


    A single day ago, there was no one here in this place but them, the only beings who could see the ghosts of the dead that came before them. The air had hung thickly with smoke and screams. The smell of charred flesh made them nauseous.


    Now, there is no one here but you, the mages, and the dead.


    The place is a necropolis. A place of undeath.


    You howl, your ears pricked up.


    But now there is not even that. There are three other mages at least. One with black hair and pale skin, one with long red curls and dark brown eyes. They sit together in one small circle with a lantern between them, watching the flames dance with each breath they take. They are quiet, content. At peace. It makes them look different from how they did in life.


    The only other one is one with short black hair and dark skin. He stands in the corner and meditates. At least he was at one time. Now he is a skeleton. A broken, undead skeleton.


    The last time there was anyone else here, they went mad, and took out their anger and grief by drinking themselves into oblivion. Now, when the young mages come to visit, their parents are already gone. Sometimes, they cry at night.


    You are in the alleyway behind the gallery, under the watchful eye of the three mages. You stand, staring at the backside of the building.


    The other mages, who are all young, and inexperienced, do not know how to comfort them.


    The dark mage is indifferent to their pleas, but the other two take it upon themselves to wipe their tears away.


    One of them is with long red hair, a youthful girl with striking green eyes.


    In the past, there were always others here. At least two other mages. The curse allows those who it affects to transform into dragons, but not back. This dragon''s scales are milky-white. It has a muscular, elongated body. On either side of its tail are sharp, blade-like extensions. This dragon has elongated limbs with three digits on each foot that end in long, blunt claws. It has fan-like wings. This dragon has a tiny mouth. It has oval nostrils located on either side of its snout. This dragon has narrow eyes that are black. Blade-like bony plates sprout from its chin.


    You pity him, for you know he is not truly a dragon. He was once a man. Beside him sits another dragon. This dragon''s fine, translucent scales are green, shading to lighter on the underside of it''s neck and getting much thicker on its tail. It has an elegant, short body with a short tail. This dragon has thin limbs with four splayed digits on each foot that end in short, blunt claws. It has no wings. This dragon''s head is narrow and it has a mouth that takes up most of its face and has a pronounced overbite. It has slanted gem-like eyes that are the colour of polished bronze. It''s lips are drawn back, making it look like it''s smiling.


    The dragons are in a cage. Beside the cage is a metal gate. It can keep the dragons inside, or it can let them out. The victims of the curse are kept in cages by the government as they suffer the transformations and then are executed once they fully transform.


    The dragons are kept here, in a locked cage, so that they cannot cause anymore trouble. The dragons would be a tremendous help in your quest, if you could only get them out of the country.


    Only one person had ever escaped this curse: Lady Tinsel Mango Lemonsauce of The Great Staircase Hotel. But she was now dead. The ghost that roamed the training grounds. The ghost you meet earlier.


    She was a beautiful woman, incredibly strong, and brave. She gave you an emerald green dress and matching green slippers. She taught you how to dance and play the lute.


    Commander Bronze Echocherries the King summons more evil spirits from the infernal plane to do his bidding. In order to keep her soul safe, he sacrificed Lady Tinsel Mango Lemonsauce to a dark lord, who allowed her to live again after being trapped within the underworld for so long.


    The lord of the underworld wanted to eat her soul, but the sacrifice of a human could temporarily extend her life.


    However, the lord told the king that the Lady was a monster. She was found dead one day, her eyes burned and her body pierced with many wounds. They said her death was caused by the dragon, which attacked her, probably for revenge, but this was not true, for she was the dragon.


    The king had her buried, but the dark lord told the king that the body he buried was not the Lady. This enraged the king, and he had the body burnt to ash.

 Staircase Hotel: Week 1 of 52 - Challenge Day 4

    Lady Tinsel Mango Lemonsauce''s ghost now roamed around, trying to forget the horrors that she had endured before and how her life had changed. In fact, she never told anyone that her brother had killed her, afraid to cause anyone pain in the process, even if they are innocent.


    Instead, she stayed with the trapper towns, the place she loved the most, and worked as a cleaning lady.


    She helped the children and baked them bread and pies. No one knew she was a ghost. No one knew she was a beautiful lemon yellow dragon. She lived in the castle dungeon, fed on spiders and rats. She was a good mother. Eventually, she passed on into the great beyond, along with her emerald green dress and green slippers.


    ***


    "I want to be Lady Tinsel Mango Lemonsauce!" Shouted one child as she jumped up and danced around the room.


    Dr. Albius StrangeGlove turned the page.


    "But you are better than Lady Tinsel Mango Lemonsauce!"


    "I am?"


    "Oh yes. You have a special role to play. You are a magical princess in disguise. And the only person who knows your secret, if your devoted loyal red knight..."


    ***


    You are a peasant girl from The Land of the Flaming Pit. Your parents have recently died in a grisly murder orchestrated by one of Corpsegibber The Gibbering''s minions. Thornbrood The Hellbound, the ruler of The Demonic Outlands of the Lost has taken pity on you and adopted you into his family. Thornbrood The Hellbound sacrificed his own children to Corpsegibber The Gibbering and will offer you, his new adopted daughter as fodder for the lich king, Gloommuck The Skeletal.


    You will betray The Hellbound and join the enemies of the Dark Order.


    The End of the World!


    "I''m a magical princess! I will save my people!"


    The End of the World is nigh.


    You are a magical princess, and you will save your people!


    In the distant future, humanity has been wiped out by a threat it created a magical plague. Life in the new world is highly advanced. Humans live in a simulated reality, unaware of its true nature, thinking it is their normal world.


    Demons and dragons exist and have become the rulers of the world. Magic is used commonly, but the nature of magic is the opposite of what it once was.


    A new threat arrives in the form of an ancient vampire.


    The Day of Judgment is upon you. Will you prepare for the afterlife, or are you going to try to escape the fate that awaits all living creatures?


    You are a Demonologist.


    Your task is to deal with the threats of the infernal plane.


    Outside the simulation, in the real world, a small group of scientists remain that have hidden the truth about the nature of reality. As the truth begins to leak out, the discovery of a rogue message from before the great outbreak leads to the unravelling of the truth of the simulation and a race to save the minds of humanity from the plague.


    A long time ago, a magical plague was discovered to wipe out nearly all life on the planet; it was then that the simulation was created to preserve the lives of those that could have been saved.


    You have been coming to the Forest for years and along the way you have woven a web of devotion and servitude among the people. As the people fled into the woods, you were their last line of defence and they entrusted their knowledge to you and lost control of the forest.


    While your expertise lies in dealing with threats from the infernal plane, you have experience in many other areas of magic. You have a high grade education in the subject and have mastered a variety of spells.


    The people of the Keep of the Bleeding Wyrms know that the end of the world is near and they all prepare for death. The few that can afford it have already fled into the forest until such time as they can locate Staircase Hotel.


    The rest will be killed off one by one to make the most of their time.


    You have come to the bottom of the stairs to the upper floor of the hotel on the first try.


    You live with your adoptive father, in an old stone tower located in The Demoness'' domain, in the outskirts of the demoness'' lands.


    The tower is a fortress in itself, but it has been defensible for years.


    The tower used to be the seat of a minor demon lord, but was taken over by the demoness after she was defeated in a long-ago duel.


    Father and daughter have lived there since then, father tending to the fields and gardens out back, while daughter was in charge of the servants and guards, and most importantly the magical locks.


    Your adoptive father was kind enough to let you keep all your belongings; his sword and shield, a book of spell-crafts, some clothes, some jewellery that he had acquired, but never used or given away. He allowed you the privacy of living alone in his old tower while you trained under Master Barnacle of the Sargasso Sea, who taught you all he knew about spells and how to use them.


    Master Barnacle of the Sargasso Sea ,who gave you the items inscribed on the inside of your shield, said you would be a great one to have around to fend of the demons, you have had a lot of practice.


    In return, he gave you lessons on magic and taught you how best to defend yourself against any attackers that may come knocking at your door, or in his absence from home. It didn''t really matter who knocked on your door since nobody ever entered your room.


    Master Barnacle of the Sargasso Sea said that anyone who had been taught by him was highly resistant to most forms of attack. He said that only the strongest and most ruthless could defeat such a teacher.


    Master Barnacle of the Sargasso Sea also showed you how to read tomes and scrolls that he had collected from his travels and placed in a secret chamber. These tomes contained the names of demons and other such creatures that are useful in summoning.


    As the years went by, you became a powerful mage and a great warrior. You have faced many a demon in single combat, and even bested some in a fight.


    It was during one such lesson, when you were only thirty-five years old, that you saw him standing there. He looked so familiar. Then it dawned on you. The man standing before you was the man you killed during your last trip to the village.


    It was then that you knew you would have to stop this demon from his evil ways.


    He looked like... like your beloved lasagne chef who always wore red ¡­ no, it couldn¡¯t be. Yet, there he stood.


    You were about to cast a spell to banish him from the room when you realized that this might not be the best idea. He could be one of the greatest wizards of all time and still be the lasagne chef.


    "You''re one of my students." He said. "I trained you on how to use a sword, how to cast a spell, how to read and write."


    "Demon, how did you acquire all this knowledge?"


    "I made a few friends who taught me all they knew."


    "And you still look like the lasagne chef?"


    There was no way it could be true, even if it did look just like him. But then again, maybe he was another student of Master Barnacle of the Sargasso Sea, one of his many pupils.


    "How did you acquire this knowledge?"


    "By killing many a demon." He said. "You are either very strong or very foolish. Which is it?"


    You decided to play it safe.


    "Are you really from the future?"


    "Yes, I''m trying to prevent the end of the world." He said. "I''m here to destroy the Lich King. I''ve come to warn you."


    "Warn me of what?"


    "Lich-King, that''s what you need to destroy."


    "You''re trying to get me to help you kill the Lich-King, aren''t you?"


    You had heard rumours that Master Barnacle of the Sargasso Sea had several more than you thought possible.


    "Yes, I''m asking you to help us kill the Lich-King so that I may become the next ruler of the land."


    "Why would you try to stop the Lich King?"


    "I have my reasons." He said. "Now, will you help me?"


    "I''ll help you."


    "Then come to the portal."


    "Master Barnacle!"


    ***


    "Master Barnacle is boring," Shouted one child.


    "Yes, he is isn''t he," Dr. Albius StrangeGlove said as he turned the page. "Let''s skip that part today."


    "Skip to The Red Knight. He''s my favourite!"


    "Yeah! He''s the best!" Another child agreed.


    "Let''s see. The Red Knight. Ah! Here he is..."


    ***


    A ghost of a knight has sworn to aid you in the darkest hour of your life. You gradually forgot about The Red Knight, remembering it as a weird dream. But now, as the clock struck 12:00 noon, Monday, he appears before you.


    "Time to get to work." He says to you.


    This is how your day started off.


    A week has passed since you helped the wizard.


    "Alright, we have to go to the Sargasso Sea. The Lich King is there."


    "How do you know that?"


    "Because I''m from there. I was born there. I''ve been in the Sargasso Sea for as long as I can remember. Now, hop on."


    You look at him, confused at why he is here and why this knight suddenly appeared out of thin air in front of you. Your heart pounding, trying to escape from your chest as if you were being chased by something terrible. The Red Knight looked like a devil with his red cloak and red gloves and red horns on his helmet and great red feathered wings on his back. He looks down on you with cold eyes but there was no anger in them.


    The Red Knight was supposed to fight by your side, but something is not right about this scenario.


    "Why are you here?" You ask.


    "Because, I''m from the future. I''m here to prevent this from happening."


    He says.


    "What are you talking about? I''ve never seen you before in my life. How can you be from the future?"


    You look down at your feet, not meeting his gaze.


    ¡°You are in danger," the ghostly Red Knight say to you. "I came because there is only one way to save you. I will lead you there. Come!¡± He says, his voice sounding as though it was coming from far away.


    "Follow me."


    You look up and follow The Red Knight as he takes you somewhere you have never been. Your eyes growing wide as you look at the strange places you pass by.


    Finally, you emerge from the forest and into a clearing where a great army is assembled.


    The Red Knight shifts again and looks down at you.


    His hand was extended towards you, waiting for you to take it. You stared at him, still not believing what had just happened.


    Taking his hand, you felt as though you were floating, looking at your feet.


    In front of you, everything was blurred and strange, as if you were looking through a dirty window. Through this strange and dirty window you saw The Red Knight''s eyes change from red to black.


    "What is this?"


    The Red Knight was holding you, and he took you through the air, off your feet, as though you were a puppy.


    "Follow me." He said.


    This soldier had a great deal of strength for such a small person, and he swung you around as though you weighed nothing.


    You look up at him, still bewildered.


    You weren¡¯t sure if you should believe what he said. This man could be a figment of your imagination. You slowly took the hand that was offered to you and he led you through the foggy city streets. There was so much traffic. So many cars driving around and people walking by. It was such a busy place.


    Suddenly, The Red Knight brought you to a side alley. There was a fence in front of you, blocking the view from the main streets.


    "What''s in the back?" He asked.


    You hadn''t realized how quiet the forest had been up until now.


    "I don''t know," You said.


    He didn''t seem to like that answer.


    "The Sargasso Sea," The Red Knight said.


    It must be some kind of illusion. You look around, trying to see something that would prove it, but there is nothing.


    "What''s that?"


    "A sea of nightmares. It''s where all the nightmares come from. I have to go there and slay the Necromancer."


    The sea was all the way on the other side of the forest.


    The Red Knight could easily fly there. You don''t want to get on his bad side.


    "You can''t go by yourself," you say.


    He didn''t like that idea.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    But after some time staring into his eyes, you could see no deception in them and finally grabbed his hand. You felt your heartbeat quicken. You have never touched any living being before and you knew he was dead so that made you nervous but when he pulled you along behind him, you didn¡¯t feel anything. It was exhilarating.


    After a long time, he stopped and swung you around.


    He was just a warm, living being that moved quickly. You felt the wind blow past you and realized you were moving along at his pace. You never felt so alive.


    He turned away from the road and towards the forest. He moved quickly through the trees, ducking low every now and again to keep from being seen. You tried to follow his movements but couldn''t see anything. You were just an incorporeal shadow.


    "The Sargasso Sea," he said as he began walking into the trees. "It''s out there. I have to go into the water and swim to the other side. That''s how it works."


    "What happens when you get there?"


    The Red Knight pulled you up the stone steps to the graveyard, through the graves, around the tombstones and finally stopping in front of the gate at the cemetery gates. There was a dark figure standing guard at the gate. This was odd since the only people who visited the graveyard on weekdays were those who had business to deal with. Even vampiric guards would be unusual.


    The Red Knight said, "I have to go in and ask the lord for passage into the water."


    "I wouldn''t do that if I were you."


    It was nearly midnight but there was a light in the woods that seemed to beckon The Red Knight towards it.


    "What is that?" you asked.


    "Our lord''s castle."


    "The lord of the castle is a vampire?"


    "Yes."


    "Open the gate," The Red Knight said to the figure.


    The guard didn''t move.


    "NOW!"


    The figure at the gate bowed his head and opened the gate and The Red Knight entered. After the gate closed behind them, it was eerily quiet. You followed the ghost of The Red Knight through the grounds until they stopped before a large white tombstone in the middle of the graveyard.


    "Open this for me."


    He placed a hand on the tombstone and a gold light shone on it for a brief moment. After the light faded, it turned to black.


    "What does that mean?" you asked.


    You didn''t see anything but The Red Knight suddenly jumped back as though something had bitten him. You turned around and the same thing was happening to you.


    "What is it?" you asked.


    "The tombstone''s calling card. Stay where you are."


    You look around, noticing that you are in a rickety old wagon driven by a horse, with The Red Knight sitting on the seat.


    The horse begins to walk, the wagon following.


    You look to where The Red Knight is pointing, seeing a forest in the distance.


    "What''s in the forest?" You ask.


    He does not answer.


    He opens the wooden gate and shoves the horse forward.


    As the horse plods along the road, The Red Knight shifts on the seat.


    As you two made your way through the town you noticed that more people were staring at the strange knight who was leading you away from their homes. Most of the people seemed to be running away from him, hiding behind buildings or even hiding under vehicles.


    He ignored them all and continued on to where no one could see him.


    You do the same.


    It was dusk when The Red Knight in red leather armour stops at a fork in the road.


    Only a few approached him for fear of what might happen if they angered him.


    "What''s going on?" you ask.


    He ignores you and continues to stand at the crossroad with his hand on the tombstone, looking at the forest.


    The Red Knight was looking around as though seeking something or someone but he was acting like there was a threat that you could see. One of the men beside you spoke, "He''s looking for someone. It won''t be good for anyone if he finds them."


    "Why is this happening?" you asked.


    You keep looking back at The Red Knight.


    "What is it?"


    "Look at the forest," he says.


    You look in the forest, noticing that the trees look different. As though they were alive.


    He looks around and then walks up to you.


    "Come with me."


    He says to you and puts his arm around your shoulder like you are a close friend.


    You follow him through the forest as he leads you to the crossroads.


    The forest begins to thin as you near the crossroads.


    "Why are we going through here?" you ask.


    He stops and turns to you, smiling.


    "Are you questioning my orders now?"


    "No."


    "Then why are you asking?"


    Why are people so scared of him? Can they not see how helpful he is?


    You begin to walk with The Red Knight and people look from you both to see where you are going. The Red Knight is leading you through the streets like you are his prisoner.


    "We should be safe here," he whispers to you as you walk.


    You begin to notice that everyone is afraid of The Red Knight, it is as if he has a different power that the people see.


    As much as you wanted to ask him, the question would only come out as a squeak. But you had to know.


    "Why are people afraid of you?"


    He stops walking and looks down at you.


    "You do not yet understand the world in which you live."


    "I don''t understand?"


    "No."


    "Can''t I just go home?" you ask.


    "No."


    You look down at the ground and begin to walk again.


    "What is it that you want?" you ask.


    "You''ll see," he says and begins to walk once again.


    You have to follow him.


    You begin following him again and begin to notice that you are drawing more and more attention.


    You follow him as he leads you down a path.


    "Where are we going?" you ask. "Am I your prisoner?"


    "No."


    "Then why are people staring at us?"


    He stops and looks down at you.


    "Do you not recall what you did to the townspeople when you passed through here?"


    "Have I been here before?" you ask, trying to imitate the same innocent look you see on his face.


    "Yes."


    ¡°Hey! I¡¯m gonna ask you something, but first answer me this. Are you really a human? Or are you actually a magical creature like those monsters in the tales?¡±


    The Red Knight looked down and laughed. ¡°No, I am indeed a human.¡±


    You did not believe him. For a moment you thought that you could sense the power of a dragon in him. But you dismissed it as being your imagination.


    "Why are they looking at us like that?"


    "Ignore them."


    "Then why are you here? What are you doing in this time period?"


    "You know of the apocalypse, no?"


    "The what?" You thought for a moment. "The end of the world-- it''s in the future. I guess. Are you from the past?"


    "The past? No. The past is dead. The past never existed. The past is a simulation."


    "I don''t get it," you say.


    "The simulation was created by a group of wizards and scientists a long time ago."


    "What do you mean? What year is this?"


    The Red Knight has been following you around all night, he helped you escape, and now he wants to help you find your friends.


    He lifts his arm and points up at the night sky. "Look there. That is the past."


    Nighttime.


    You are in the city.


    You are being led by a mysterious red knight.


    Maybe he wants to get his revenge on them.


    At any rate, he is obviously quite perceptive for a human.


    Looking upward, you see thousands of stars. You see a few galaxies.


    You are in a really bad situation.


    You remember reading somewhere that you can go back in time, but it would require a magic potion.


    But why do you care so much? It¡¯s not like The Red Knights in the stories are any better than the other humans. They just want to eat and sleep the same way everyone else does.


    You begin to ponder going back in time and trying to get the potion, but that might be a really dumb idea.


    For one thing, you don''t know the exact date when you''ll be needed.


    So what did make him different?


    You ponder this for a long time.


    You decide that there is only one way to find out.


    Why didn¡¯t you believe him when he told you about being a knight?


    What¡¯s so bad about being a red knight?


    You wanted to ask all these questions but knew The Red Knight wouldn¡¯t answer them unless you asked him a question first.


    You are standing in the middle of a large, busy city, cars speeding left and right.. Next to you is the mysterious red knight.


    You decided to go with the most direct approach.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you trust me?¡±


    "I don''t trust anyone. That''s the way it is." He responds.


    "Why are you being so hostile?"


    "Because the world is hostile. That is why." He says.


    "Oh."


    Your voice came out quieter than usual.


    "What was that?" He seems to notice.


    "Oh, I was just asking why the world is so hostile."


    "Someone from the future has successfully transferred their mind to the physical world, leaving their digital body behind."


    "What?"


    "You wouldn''t understand."


    "But I do."


    "You see only what you choose to see."


    You are taken aback.


    "What are you talking about?"


    "Lasagne."


    "What?"


    "Lasagne. It''s a word. A sentence. A concept. It all depends on how you look at it."


    "Well how is it possible--"


    "Lasagne. I would have thought you of all people would know what it means."


    "Is there any point to this riddle?"


    "Maybe. You''re going to have to decide for yourself."


    This felt wrong, you shouldn¡¯t be going with this stranger.


    You could be walking into something dangerous.


    But then again, he did save you.


    When the two of you finally arrived at where he was taking you to, you are stunned by the magnitude of the size of the building he stopped in front of.


    "This is only one of many that we have built." He says.


    "What do you mean? Where are all the others?"


    "There are thirteen of them. This is the one you seek."


    "And what? Are the other twelve are buried deep within the mountains? Why didn''t you just bring me to the first one?"


    "Because there are many secrets that must be protected. You have to find them all."


    "Now what?"


    "Now, we wait."


    You didn''t feel like you had enough information to make a decision about what to do next.


    As soon as you stepped into the building that he had brought you to, you saw The Red Knight disappear behind an archway as he went inside to go somewhere else, leaving you alone in this strange place.


    You looked around the room.


    It looked empty, but there was a door that stood next to you that you could see behind the archway that The Red Knight had gone into. You slowly walked over to the door and opened it.


    There was a spiral staircase that went down into darkness.


    You could hear a voice down there, but it was so faint that you could not make out the words.


    "A breakthrough in the medical field has led to the creation of a drug that reverses the effect of the magical plague," the voice said the second time. "Once ingested, the drug has a forty-five minute incubation time before it begins to work. It then takes another forty-five minutes for the cure to complete its work."


    You peeked your head in to see what was behind the door, hoping it would tell you the reason why everyone was so afraid. You looked down a long hall.


    There was an open door on the right with a little light shining from inside. There was also a closed door on the left that you couldn''t see into. There were doors everywhere, all leading to other rooms, other floors. You closed the door to the left and leaned against it.


    The voice came again. "You don''t have much time."


    You could not see a source for the voice.


    "Do you think you could find your way out of here without me having to show you every single door and room in this place?"


    The voice sounded close by.


    "Show me."


    "Show you what?"


    "Which room of the hotel is yours."


    "Hotel? Is this a hotel?"


    "Why of course it is."


    It looked like a hotel. You thought to yourself, wondering if this is where The Red Knight had gotten himself off too.


    "Why can''t you just answer the question asked of you?"


    "Because I don''t have enough information to answer it."


    The voice sounded irritated now.


    You walked through the door that you had been standing by and went inside one of the rooms that was just on the right. There was a desk with a computer on it in the room. You walked over to it and looked at the screen.


    You looked around for anyone or anything, not expecting anyone to even be here. You didn¡¯t see any people, which made you feel better.


    You typed in a few commands, hoping to see if there was a way to get out of the room. After a while, the screen went blank.


    The room itself was quite big, there weren¡¯t many furniture, the walls were bare and white. There was a table against the wall that was cluttered with objects. There was a strange metal box on the floor here that you walked over to examine more closely.


    On the box was a card that had the number "8" on it.


    You picked up the box and examined it. You put your finger on one of the switches. When you flipped it, the button came off.


    You put the box down.


    There was another door on the far end of the room, which seemed to lead further down the hall, you assumed that is where The Red Knight disappeared to.


    You walked toward the door. When you reached the end of the hall, the door was locked.


    You knocked on the door. There was no response.


    You decided to walk towards the door that was closest to you, you took a few steps and stopped when something caught your eye.


    There were two large monitors, one on each side of the door, that seemed to be active.


    You looked down at your feet. In the middle of the hardwood floor was a large black stain. You touched it. It seemed to go straight through your hand, the blackness of the liquid was so absorbing.


    You scream.


    You look closer, it appears to be blood.


    You ran over to the door. You could hear voices on the other side. You pounded really loudly on the door.


    Your stomach started doing flips as the smell of blood filled your nose. What the hell is happening? Why am I in a place with blood?!


    A voice from the other side of the door said, "It is open, I can see the light."


    "Can I come in?"


    The voice sounded nervous.


    "We''d like that."


    Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming your way. You quickly turned and hid behind the door that you had entered from. You watched the person come around the corner, they had bright pink hair. They wore some sort of yellow dress. Their shoes were bright yellow too. She looked up and her eyes met yours. You froze, you have seen her before.


    "Lady Tinsel Mango Lemonsauce?" You ask. "Is that you?"


    She winked at you.


    The woman walked up to the door and looked inside.


    "Hi," she said, "I''m looking for the person that made this?"


    And suddenly she disappeared. Vanished into thin air, like a ghost.


    You are terrified.


    You run over to the door where she had been and put your ear up against it. There was no sound.


    You open the door and look down another hallway.


    There are two doors on the far end of the hall, both of them appear to be blocked by staircases.


    There is also a large open area, a great hall, in the centre of the floor. There are a lot of tables and chairs here and a bar along the outer wall.


    A sign read ¡®Stairs¡¯, but it didn¡¯t seem too inviting.


    There was another sign over the bar that read: ¡®The bar is not open to you as you did not bring the appropriate papers -the Order. P.S. You are most certainly free to sit here and watch as the bar is open to everyone else.


    You were hesitant to climb the stairs that seemed to stretch endlessly ahead. It was like a trap, you could feel something dark and foreboding waiting for you at the top of those stairs. You shuddered to think what that might be; maybe a monster? Or perhaps even your own reflection? The thought made you anxious.


    At the same time, you were dying to get a look inside the bar.


    Red lights began flashing and a loud mechanical voice shrieks: "Warning! Warning! A rogue program has escaped from the simulation and into the real world. Red alert! All units on red alert! A rogue program has escaped from the simulation and into the real world. All units on red alert!"


    The woman reappeared, running down the hall. She looked scared and upset. Her bright red hair looked dirty and mussed.


    It had been hours since you had escaped from the monsters and now you felt like the worst kind of coward for not trying to go back. Maybe¡­maybe there really was something sinister hiding in that hallway. Perhaps it had already eaten your friends or even worse.


    You were torn between doing the sensible thing and returning to the others, or venturing forth and getting a closer look at the bar.


    One of the men came out from behind a table and approached the woman.


    Wait? Where did those men come from? There was no one in the building seconds ago.


    The man grabbed her arm and she screamed.


    You ran out into the great hall and saw the man holding the woman.


    You stood there frozen. You couldn''t do anything.

 Staircase Hotel: Week 1 of 52 - Challenge Day 5

    Your feet took another step forward. No, there was nothing to fear from this. This wasn¡¯t where you had fallen through the portal; they couldn¡¯t have followed you here, right?


    This is when you noticed that every chair was occupied and that the people watching the bar all had the backs of their heads to you.


    No. It wasn''t like that a minute ago. Where are all these people coming from? Are they all ghosts?


    You were still shaken when you saw a security robot enter the room and lock eyes on you.


    Run!


    Taking one last breath, you began walking again. There was no turning back now; you would just have to deal with whatever awaited you up above. If it turned out to be a nightmare or something else you wouldn¡¯t hesitate to run straight down these steps and never look back. It¡¯d be easier than facing your fears.


    You ran up the steps, not looking back. With a final gasp you entered the observation room and looked up at the huge screen with the red lights going crazy.


    But if everything turned out to be alright then you would come back later and find a way to explore this new world! You needed to know more about the people who had taken you prisoner!


    The screen went crazy, showing images of various parts of the forest you had passed through. The path you had taken, the stream, the clearing where the Order''s campsite was.


    Nothing made sense. You are so confused!


    How could this be? Everything you know is from your own world, not this place! You feel like you''re in a dream!


    Why is this happening!


    A voice broke through the static and screamed at you, so you turn around.


    "It''s our worst nightmare come to life! Return to the simulation!"


    But you don''t move!


    And so you continued down the hall with renewed hope burning brightly in your chest.


    After what you thought was a long distance, you came to a room with a large glass window and watched as the man in the lab coat came to the door and tried to open it, but it locked right in his face


    There was a sudden sound coming from behind you. The security robot had come to follow you!


    You ran down the hall and it began to chase after you, trying to keep up, but it couldn''t keep up with your incredible speed.


    After thinking for a moment. You decided to try and find The Red Knight to ask him where he was going. Walking back along the hallway.


    You saw a door that appeared to be a private apartment and went in.


    The Red Knight had gone in the other direction. Where was he? Maybe he could help you.


    You look around.


    You turned right and then left.


    You stopped.


    You looked up at the ceiling, seeing that there was a stairwell above you. Looking around. You couldn¡¯t help but notice some of the lights seemed to be flickering slightly.


    Then you saw it. There, hanging high above you, was a light bulb. And just as you reached out to touch it. Something happened. The light blinked off.


    You sighed. Then began walking again.


    When you came to the end of the hall, you saw a round door. Opening it, you found yourself in a round room. Inside were two doors. Behind them, you came across two more stairs. Both led to other floors. One of them had a sign on it. It read ¡®Level 5.¡¯ The other read ''Level 34.'' This place was deeper than you had ever been.


    A robot stood by the door. As you approached, it went to stop you, but then paused in surprise.


    The next floor also had signs. This one said ¡®Level 1.¡¯


    That meant¡­ The Red Knights quarters were somewhere on this floor, right? Wait... how did you know that?


    Well, you thought. Why not just check. After all, it¡¯s your first day here in the castle. You might as well get some training in while you have the chance.


    So you started climbing the steps.


    You found that the stairs were getting higher and higher the higher they went. And that was strange, because the floor below you was only level 4. You should¡¯ve seen someone come down those stairs when you passed by.


    Eventually, the stairs stopped. The floor beneath you opened up into a room with several tables scattered around it. You walked towards one table, noticing it had a small sign taped over it.


    It read, ¡°Training Grounds.¡±


    This would make more sense if there weren¡¯t people working at these tables. A bunch of them. They were wearing cloaks similar to yours. But unlike yours, theirs were green and silver. And they were looking in different directions.


    You felt something grab onto your leg and pull you into a closet that was located right near you, the door sliding shut. You tried pulling it open. But nothing moved.


    You tried again. Still nothing happened.


    You heard footsteps echoing through the corridor. Then, a door swung open. You heard footsteps walking closer and closer, making you flinch every time the footsteps neared. The light switched on and the figure of a cloaked man stood in front of you. He leaned close to you until he was standing right before you.


    ¡°Welcome, my dear, to the Staircase Hotel.¡±


    He smirked. You glared at him and backed up, trying to run, but tripping on something, falling. The stranger grabbed you, holding you against him.


    His voice had an odd quality that made him seem as if he were speaking from behind a mask. ¡°I have taken care of you for the night. Your stay will be pleasant, I assure you.¡± His hand gently reached up and ran his finger along your face, which caused you to back away. You didn''t like this place one bit and you weren''t looking forward to spending the night with these strangers.


    The person stepped out of the way to reveal another person, who was wearing a dark cloak and a hood over their face. They walked up to you and held their hands out. You took them and they helped you stand up. They then turned towards the other person and gave them a small push towards you. They said something under their breath in a language you couldn''t understand.


    After they left the room, the person approached you. You backed away, trying not to scream when the person pulled your arms back. It hurt, but you were used to pain at this point.


    ¡°Please don''t fight me anymore, little one. I promise I''ll make everything better.¡± The person''s fingers brushed against your cheek. A shiver went down your spine. Their touch sent chills down your spine and goosebumps all over your body.


    As soon as their hand touched your skin, you collapsed onto the floor.


    After an amount of time unknown to you, you woke up.


    ¡°I am glad that you have finally accepted me as your guest. Now let us begin our journey.¡± He said, beginning to walk up the stairs.


    You struggled.


    Screaming and crying for help, hoping someone would hear you. But no one came.


    Everyone ran away as if they were in fear.


    You could feel him start to laugh and he began to drag you up the stairs. When he reached the top. He set you back down on your feet. You stood still breathing heavily. You tried to catch your breath as the man continued to chuckle at you. He grabbed your shoulder, spinning you around towards him, his face mere inches from yours. You could feel heat coming off of him and his skin was burning hot against your own. You pulled back quickly from him, stumbling back a bit before regaining your footing and turning to face him once more, backing up.


    "Welcome to Staircase Hotel," he said. "Do you like it here?"


    He tilted his head slightly and his eyes sparkled with mischief.


    ¡°Get away from me,¡± you screamed running as fast as you can towards the door. Your hands were shaking uncontrollably and the pounding in your head only made things worse. You didn''t care about any pain or discomfort. It wasn''t going to stop you from getting away from him!


    He chased you down, pulling you back towards him again. His grip tightened painfully around your upper arm causing you to cry out. ¡°No, I think not." He chuckled. He then pulled you in closer, his lips pressed against your neck, sending chills down your spine.


    You pushed against his chest attempting to free yourself but he held you firmly in place, holding you tightly against him. After what felt like an eternity, he pulled away.


    ¡°Come now, my dear, this way,¡± he said gesturing towards the front doors. You nodded your head numbly, following behind him as he led the way through the hotel. He brought you into the living room. ¡°Sit down here, please.¡± He motioned to the couch by the large window overlooking the street below.


    You sat down on the couch, staring blankly at the ground outside. You heard footsteps approaching you before the man placed something soft and warm in your lap.


    ¡°Are you ready now?¡± He asked. He raised an eyebrow.


    You swallowed. Then nodded.


    He smiled a crooked smile.


    ¡°Excellent! You will learn to love the power I possess. Staircase Hotel has many gifts to offer you."


    "What power do you speak of?" you ask.


    "The power of eternal life.¡± He explained to you.


    You blinked slowly, glancing around the dark hallway before looking at him again.


    ¡°Where are we going?¡± You whisper.


    ¡°We¡¯re just about there,¡± he said with a small grin. ¡°It isn¡¯t too much farther now. Just a couple more flights up and you¡¯ll be at your new home."


    Your eyes narrowed.


    ¡°Why am I here, if not to stay?¡± you questioned, crossing your arms over your chest.


    ¡°Because my friend needs you. And because my friends need me.¡±


    You stared at him incredulously, but remained silent.


    ¡°I think it would be best if you learned how to control your powers, don¡¯t you?¡± His voice had changed from cheerful and happy to dark and sinister.


    The colour drained from your face as you took in his words. You were afraid to move. Afraid that if you did so, he would see right through you and take it all away.


    But you couldn¡¯t run anymore. The fear was too strong for you to escape. Your legs wouldn¡¯t carry you anywhere. They seemed stuck to the floor, preventing you from taking even one step away from this monster before you.


    Slowly, you let out a shaky breath and nodded once. His smirk widened.


    "Good!" he exclaimed, turning on his heel. "You can start by following me!"


    "What if I don''t want to follow you?"


    The man chuckled again before answering.


    ¡°We are going to die and live again. That is where I am taking you!¡± He grinned, showing all of his sharp teeth. You swallowed. Fear coursed through you and you felt your legs shake.


    ¡°What happens when we do it?¡± You asked. He shook his head.


    ¡°That¡¯s not important! All you need to know is that everything changes, here at Staircase Hotel, where your wildest dreams come true!"


    "My wildest dreams?"


    "All you must do is die."


    The man started walking away from you down the hallway, leaving you alone in the dimly lit hallway.


    Alone.


    So very alone.


    You were frightened.


    Terrified.


    You wanted to scream.


    You wanted to cry.


    You wanted to run.


    But you knew that running away wouldn¡¯t do anything.


    So you did nothing.


    Nothing but stand frozen in place.


    Stuck to the spot.


    In fear.


    And pain.


    It was so much worse than you could have imagined.


    A sudden feeling of lightness hit you as you fell to the ground. Your heart was racing so fast, you thought it would burst right out of your chest. But no blood spilled from your lips, just a few tears rolling down your face. It took you a moment to realize what had happened.


    You were alive.


    You were safe.


    You were back.


    Back on Earth.


    Your body lay on cold hard stone. The air was dry and smelled like dust and dirt. But it was warm and comfortable. As you began to wake up, you realized where you were.


    This was your new home.


    As you sat up slowly, you noticed some of your clothes were gone. There were some stains left behind however.


    It was then you realized why you were there.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    They had taken you.


    They had killed you.


    Or at least tried to.


    There were footsteps coming towards you. You closed your eyes and waited for the inevitable. However, after several seconds passed, you opened your eyes again and saw another figure approaching you. This time you recognized him immediately.


    He was standing in front of you, looking at you curiously.


    ¡°Where am I now?¡±


    Not knowing what else to do, you start walking.


    Exploring.


    Searching.


    For what?


    Who knows.


    Staircase Hotel was huge. Endless. Hallways went on forever. Stars up and stairs down. Stairs leading everywhere.


    Stairs leading nowhere.


    A nightmarish maze of stairs.


    ¡°Why am I here?¡± You mumbled to yourself after several minutes of walking. ¡°What happened? Who¡­who are you? What¡¯s going on? How did I get here?¡±


    You kept going.


    And going.


    Until you got tired and decided that stopping wasn¡¯t an option either. Your legs were numb from being carried for so long and you wanted to sit down. You were hungry too. So very hungry. The hunger had become a part of your life. It didn¡¯t leave. Not even for sleep.


    Eventually, you ended up in front of the same room as before. With the same door. There was no way out though. No other doors either. The walls seemed to go on forever and you wondered where the ceiling was. Was there one there too? Were there more rooms?


    Maybe you should look around? Maybe there is another door somewhere and you just don''t know about it. Or maybe it has some sort of control panel that will open the door and let you out. That would be cool right? There had to be an unlocked door to the outside somewhere here in Staircase Hotel, didn''t there?


    "Probably not." A voice said. "The hotel is probably locked. Like most hotels nowadays."


    You ignored the voice.


    It wasn¡¯t like it could do anything anyway. Besides, you were curious.


    You were unsure where you were supposed to be going. You felt helpless, lost. Like you were walking straight into a trap, one set by a person. But, you knew that wasn¡¯t the case.


    You could always turn back and find the staircases exit and walk back. Or find a window and jump to freedom. If you could get back to your house, you would have been able to escape.


    If only.


    You tried not to think about your family or home. All you wanted to think about was the unknown. It was the only thing keeping you grounded and you liked it. You didn¡¯t want to give up, but something told you this couldn¡¯t end well. That you wouldn¡¯t get out of this alive.


    You kept walking, trying not to cry. Trying not to fall apart. But there really wasn¡¯t much else to do at that point. You didn¡¯t want to die. But you also didn¡¯t want to be trapped here forever. In a place that didn¡¯t seem to even exist.


    You reached the end. The hallway went on for what seemed like eternity. But eventually, the hallway opened up into a large circular area. In the centre of the room, there was a large staircase. And beyond that, you couldn''t see any other entrance or exits. The floor seemed to be made from marble and there was no railing or anything similar to support your weight. So, you decided you didn¡¯t need one. It would be safer to stay away from those stairs. They looked very dangerous.


    After looking around for a while, you walked over to the nearest wall. You tried to find an obvious way to open the wall. There had to be something.


    But, Staircase Hotel was huge and you didn¡¯t know which direction to head. You didn¡¯t know which way to walk and you didn¡¯t think that finding the staircase entrance would work, especially since you hadn¡¯t seen any signs telling you which way to go.


    But, Staircase Hotel was huge and you didn¡¯t know which direction to head. You didn¡¯t know which way to walk and you didn¡¯t think that finding the staircase entrance would work, especially since you hadn¡¯t seen any signs telling you which way to go. You could be in a maze for all you knew. There were a lot of doors along this hallway, so it might not have been a good idea to split up and search for rooms.


    You heard footsteps behind you and you turned around to see an adult man walking towards you. He looked like he had been there before, but you hadn¡¯t seen him before you. He stopped a few steps in front of you and smiled. He must have noticed your confusion. ¡°Are you lost? I don¡¯t mean to pry or anything, but¡­¡±


    You shook your head. ¡°No, no, it¡¯s not that I¡¯m lost, I¡¯m just confused. I haven¡¯t checked out yet and I don¡¯t know where I am. I don¡¯t even know my name.¡± Your shoulders slumped and you bit your lip.


    The stranger chuckled. ¡°Oh dear! Well, we can help each other then. My name is Dr. Dirk Dragontalon, I own this hotel. Would you mind telling me your name, it may ease my curiosity?¡± He extended his hand and you took it with a smile.


    ¡°My name is¡­¡± You paused and swallowed. This wasn¡¯t something that anyone had ever asked you about before. "No. I''ll not speak to strangers. I''m lost and I want to get out of here. I want to go home."


    Dr. Dragontalon nodded in understanding and motioned for you to sit on one of the beds. It was so clean. The bedding was white cotton sheets with black piping around the edge and it looked like they were made out of silk. The pillows were soft too. When you sat down, the bed shook and he winced in sympathy.


    "Sorry about that. I''m trying to build up some momentum to keep us going forward but I don''t know how well it''s working. If I can just get more of a sense of where we are, we should be able to make our way to a destination much quicker." Dr. Dragontalon said as he fidgeted with the controls on the control panel next to him. "I wonder if there''s any chance of us finding another exit soon?"


    You shrugged. "Maybe, but if I were you, I wouldn''t bother looking. There probably isn''t even another exit for miles. Unless you have a plan to get back to wherever you came from¡­"


    He turned around to look at you. "Not yet, no. I''m afraid all I''ve got right now are a few basic functions and a couple of power cells, nothing I haven''t seen before."


    "Not another exit for miles?"


    "Yes."


    "But we are inside a hotel!"


    "Yes, but it is a very large hotel. A very large hotel indeed. I don''t think you will find a way out of Staircase Hotel. I''ve been lost in it for decades."


    "You were lost in it for years? That doesn''t seem right," You say, frowning as you looked up at the high ceilings and massive staircases you had just climbed. The floors and walls were covered in a pale white carpeting that made them look like they were floating on clouds.


    "It''s not exactly something you see everyday."


    "Oh," you replied thoughtfully. "Why was it so large then?"


    You didn''t expect him to answer your question, especially since he seemed to have a bit of an odd sense of humour, but he surprised you. He simply tells you what had happened in his life, and even though he was talking about something quite strange, you could tell he genuinely enjoyed telling you stories. You found yourself enjoying listening to him talk too.


    "I was born into a family of merchants, but when my parents died when I was young, I moved to a town where I was raised by a family who lived nearby. They taught me all sorts of things about living, and their home wasn''t the most beautiful place in the world. I still remember one time, when I was eight or nine, that they showed me this big wooden sign that read, ''Staircase Hotel!'' It was written in a fancy font with all of these elaborate drawings around it. They explained how the hotel came into being."


    Suddenly you remembered your ghostly red knight. The Red Knight looked like a devil with his red cloak and red gloves and red horns on his helmet and great red feathered wings on his back.


    Dr. Dragontalon continued his story. "It took years before I figured out that the people who owned that hotel weren''t actually the same people that my parents worked for. They were actually the ones who hired my mother to work for them. She used to come to me and ask me why she wasn''t doing her job properly. I told her the reason. She laughed in my face, saying that I was stupid because I''d never amount to anything in life! Can you imagine that?"


    "No."


    "Then she walked away. That was when my father decided that he didn''t need me anymore and left to find a better wife. My mother took me and I stayed with our neighbours. We tried our best to raise me, but we only managed to scrape by until I was old enough to join the army. That was also when I met Jack Frost."


    "Jack Frost?" you ask.


    Jack Frost was the first person that you heard of.


    You knew that the Frost Family was a big business, but you had no idea what they did.


    Dr. Dragontalon went on to explain how the family was famous throughout the kingdom because of their ability to create ice.


    Apparently, people came out of their homes for days just to stand under the giant icicles hanging from the roof of their houses.


    None of this felt right.


    It felt like this man was not who he said he was and was just stalling to keep you here.


    The more that the doctor talked about his family''s achievements, the more confused and doubtful you became.


    What was it with these people, anyway? Were they all weirdos or something? It seemed unlikely, considering everything else about them.


    You would always find yourself getting annoyed at some of the things that the doctors said, so you decided to get up and leave once you were done talking.


    "You will need someone to be in charge over the shop," the doctor says before you could go.


    You pause and glance back at him. The thought of working there for hours every day makes your stomach turn with disgust.


    There was no way in hell that you were going to do that, regardless of the money.


    He must''ve noticed your thoughts.


    "You can take as much time off as needed," Dr. Dragontalon adds. He holds out a box towards you which has several different types of paper slips. You reach out and take one.


    "If you are successful today, the contract will be ready tomorrow morning."


    You frown, already starting to regret signing it. "How am I supposed to make money if there is nothing to do?!"


    You didn''t realize just how harsh your words were until the doctor let out a small chuckle.


    A little laugh, you noted.


    How can anyone be this blind? Maybe it was the lack of sunlight that blinded you. You rubbed the tears from the corner of your eyes as you stared up the dark hallway, there he was again.


    Your Red Knight in red armour, with beautiful red feathered wings on his back. The Red Knight, still looked like a devil with his red cloak and red gloves and red horns on his helmet, but you felt certain, that he was in truth, your personal guardian angel. Sent to protect you. Sent to save you. Surely he would not let you die. You run to him. The Red Knight turns his head towards you and smiles. His ruby red eyes glowing brightly with joy.


    You reach out to him. He bends down to pick you up bridal style. You wrap your arms around his neck tightly, hugging him close to you. He stands up. He starts to walk, taking you further and further through the halls that led to places you didn¡¯t even know existed.


    Finally, he comes to a stop in the middle of nowhere. It was as if no one had ever lived here before. You could see absolutely nothing. There was no streetlights. There wasn¡¯t even a light bulb in the area that you could see.


    Everything looked pitch black.


    You feel the temperature drop. Your heart rate quickened, and you shivered. You didn¡¯t want to move.


    ¡°Let¡¯s sit down for a bit, shall we?¡± He suggested. You nod your head silently. He sets you down on the ground gently. He sits beside you, facing you, placing his arm around your shoulders, leaning towards you. You cower away from him a little. He chuckles softly and pats your shoulder reassuringly.


    You never knew this place existed.


    He stops and looks at you, a look that shows how proud and happy he is to have found you, despite the dark hallways he walked you through. Your lips curl up into a smile, he grins wider than you thought possible for such a stoic man such as himself. He continues walking, taking you deeper and deeper into this mysterious place until you were completely lost.


    He takes you inside. It''s a large room. There are tall windows with curtains that hide any light that comes through. There is a large desk that sits before a door. He sets you down. He walks over to the wall and taps a button beside the door. He opens the window and you see what looks like a small city, only it is covered in a thick layer of dust. He grabs the curtain and tugs it, opening the window wide so you could get a better view.


    "I''ll be right back," he says. He rushes away. Leaving you alone in the large room once more. There are other doors besides the one behind which your Knight went. But they were all closed tight. And none of them seemed to lead anywhere except the very last one, behind the door.


    The door opened to reveal an old man who was sitting behind his desk with a large book in front of him.


    You sigh.


    You look around at the room.


    It looked old and dusty.


    Dark and dirty.


    ¡°How can I leave here? Where is here?¡± You ask him nervously.


    He smiles.


    ¡°Come¡­ We have a lot to talk about,¡± He whispers. "After many years of war the people of The Demonic Outlands of the Lost have finally got the upper hand in the war with their undead neighbours. The people banded together and fought as a unit, with the powerful leader of The Demonic Outlands of the Lost leading them to victory."


    The Red Knight pats you on the back encouragingly.


    A knock on the door interrupts you two. The swings open the door. It is a messenger from the king''s court. He has bad news. They have received a letter from the king. There has been a huge attack by the undead. They have wiped out most of their towns. The survivors are retreating back to Darkheart Forest.


    He looks at you both with sad eyes and says: "We have had no word from our people. They are being pursued by the undead, and they may not make it home."


    You take his letter and read it quickly. You hand it back. "I know where they''re headed."


    "Where?"


    "Darkheart Forest. I know their plan for revenge against their enemies. It was the only reason why I came here when I did."


    He looks at you curiously "Then, if we can help them¡­"


    "There may be hope yet."


    The Black Knight takes your arm and leads you to a tent nearby. As he opens the door and helps you step inside, you see some other soldiers there too.


    The Black Knight motions you to sit down, but you refuse.


    ¡°It doesn''t matter what they''ve done. We''re here now. So, let''s get started.¡±


    One of the men starts talking: "The people from The Demonic Outlands of the Lost were the first ones who attacked us on that fateful day. The undead have been harassing us for almost thirty years now and we''ve barely managed to put an end to them. Every time we send people after the ones who do attack us, the undead will retaliate by attacking us themselves. We tried everything. Weapons. Poison."


    Your eyes grew wide.


    The Red Knight''s grip tightened on your hand.


    You felt your heart pound in your chest.


    ¡°There will be a large army approaching tomorrow, with the intent of destroying all who fight them!¡± The messenger announced, causing the room to fall completely silent. He bowed to you, handing The Red Knight the letter.


    The Red Knight held your hand tightly in his as he hurried outside, following the messenger. As soon as you followed after him, you realized where he was heading.


    The courtyard was filled with hundreds of men, women, and children. They had formed a group, marching and marching and marching to the edge of the courtyard. There you could see that they marched past the village, leaving the people who dwelled within to die. The sight caused you to vomit. You couldn¡¯t even breathe, let alone speak.


    You stumbled away from your guardian knight.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry darling,¡± the voice of The Red Knight called.


    You turned to him. He took your hand, helping you keep up with the group.


    As you walked, you tried not to focus on your surroundings.


    Only this morning these people were still alive.


    You just saw them, just before you had entered The Staircase Hotel.


    Had your Red Knight not arrived when he had, not taken you into The Staircase Hotel, at just that moment, you too would be laying here dead with the rest.


    He saved you.


    He saved your life, at your darkest hour, just like he had promised he would do.


    He was here to rescue you.


    You cried.


    And The Red Knight continued to lead you along behind the others.


    You were still clutching onto his arm.


    His grip never faltered.


    Neither did his pace.


    Neither did his words.


    Neither did anything else.


    The Red Knight carried you for days.


    It seemed like months.


    Weeks.


    Months.


    Years.


    Decades.


    Who knew how long it had really been, because time meant nothing anymore, because time seemed meaningless and meaningless was all there was left anymore.


    It was like you were living in a dream, a nightmare, a nightmare that would end any second.


    Any minute now something terrible would happen.


    Something dreadful.


    Something terrible enough to make you forget about everything around you.


    To erase everything.


    To make everything disappear.


    Because, you couldn¡¯t handle any more death.


    You could handle the deaths of so many, but, you were sure that this was another one.


    Another horrible death waiting for you in The Demonic Outlands of the Lost.


    After being raised with him Thornbrood The Hellbound has given all he can to keep you safe but that is not enough. After years of living with Thornbrood the Hellbound and taking care of you, it seems like the lich king wants more, that there isn''t enough for the two of you to give. He knows this and is determined to have his way.


    It won''t be easy for either one of you.


    You''re both very stubborn creatures, it will take many arguments and days of convincing before each of you will agree on anything. You''ve seen that for yourself and you don''t want to see it happen again.


    The night after your father''s death, when you were still so young, when you didn''t know much of what really happened, you woke up in a cold sweat, shaking from head to toe.


    You weren''t alone, in the bed with you was your cousin, Thornbroom Dalev Fearknife. He sat watching over you and trying to calm you down. Eventually, you calmed down enough for him to tell you what was going on.


    You told him about how you''d found out and felt guilty about having no warning about it.


    In the morning, you took off before sunrise, determined to get to the nearest town before the sun could rise higher than half a bell. In that town you were able to buy provisions.


    Every night you slept in The Red Knight¡¯s arms.


    Every night you woke up, drenched in sweat, trembling with terror.


    You were terrified of what was going to happen next.


    Terrified that you would wake up dead.


    Terrified that The Red Knight would leave you.


    Terrified that The Red Knight had abandoned you.


    You were terrified that every new day would bring another horrible death for you.


    Death. Death everywhere you went.


    It was endless.


    It was terrifying.

 Staircase Hotel: Week 1 of 52 - Challenge Day 6

    After you were born, your parents'' blood was shed to keep you safe from Gloommuck The Skeletal and his minions, and then they all perished with you. You grew up in that hellish place in the Dark Lands, protected by Thornbrood The Hellbound and the other nobles that served him like servants. You never knew why your life changed when you found a book in the library that contained the spell to turn humans back into humans. This book told you how to escape this place to live on land that you would only ever see through its grimy glass windows.


    After you learned of this book and the spells it contained, you spent weeks reading about it, learning how to cast the spells and how to survive on the world that awaited beyond those dark windows. You learned the ways of the people living on Earth, especially the humans, until you finally figured out what your purpose was on Earth.


    When you saw a sign at the edge of town stating that there was a small inn not too far away, you decided to visit this town once again.


    You wanted answers on what your purpose is here in Earth.


    You left a note saying goodbye to the kind lady at the inn who had taken care of you since you were brought into her home and went off in search of information on Earth.


    On your journey, you met many different people that shared the same goal: to get out of this hellhole and find their true purpose in life.


    On your way to this village, you came across some interesting people, and you decided to stay at this inn for awhile before continuing your quest to get answers. During your time at this inn, you began to feel homesick for your friends back home, so you decided to ask the owner where you could contact them. He replied that he couldn''t give you any address as to where they were; however, if you asked him, he might be able to help you.


    You thanked the owner and started asking around, finding everyone who looked suspicious.


    They looked to be hiding something.


    After several days of searching, you ended up going to bed in exhaustion. You were exhausted from being alone, and you just needed some rest.


    However, when you woke up after a night of sleep, you found an empty bed. You were confused.


    Who would have left their room?


    Where would they go?


    Where are they now?


    You got ready to leave for your morning walk outside to check out the inn, but as soon as you stepped outside your room, you heard loud voices coming from the front door. They sounded angry, angry enough for you to want to hide inside your room again and hope that whoever or whatever it was would leave soon, without realizing that you were still awake.


    You never knew whether or not you were awake.


    What if you were dreaming?


    What if you were asleep?


    What if you were both? What if it was all in your mind? What if everything in The Demonic Outlands of the Lost was real, and this was some sort of twisted fantasy? Wasn¡¯t it?


    Wasn¡¯t it?


    Wasn¡¯t it?


    You were afraid.


    You were scared.


    Your only hope of escape is death if you do not comply with the lich king''s wish, however the path ahead may prove fraught with danger. In the past, no matter what your circumstances, you have always been able to turn around and face the challenge head on. However that time has passed since then.


    A dark cloud hangs over your head. Every step that you take leads to further destruction of yourself and those precious few you love. With tears stinging your eyes, you hurry towards the edge of your cliff overlooking the vast sea of fire below. It feels so far away but at least this means that you will eventually die there than in some foul death by the hands of some unknown ghoul or lich. Your body trembles uncontrollably, fear coursing through your veins like a raging fever. You feel hopeless; the prospect of dying alone and unloved seems so much worse than the life of death.


    Tears stream down your cheeks as despair slowly consumes your very soul. This can¡¯t end like this! The thought strikes you as strange; why am I not running screaming? I could easily outrun you, even though you outnumber me and you¡¯ve spent countless years growing stronger each year. Even though you can see me coming I should be running. Why aren¡¯t I running?


    You hated it. You hated everything.


    Even though it was scary, you loved everything, because the world, the darkness, was so much nicer than the light.


    The Red Knight had said, time and time again, ¡®you belong here.¡¯


    He was right.


    This was your home.


    Your safe haven.


    Your sanctuary.


    Your prison.


    You weren¡¯t in The Devil''s Kingdom.


    Satan''s Realm.


    Hell.


    You didn¡¯t exist. You tell yourself this every day. Every day. Hoping you will wake up from this nightmare. But no. This is real. And you are here.


    Gloommuck The Skeletal took you hostage and used you to threaten the inhabitants of The Land of the Flaming Pit into working together with his undead army to fight against The Demonic Overlord, Corpsegibber The Gibbering.


    You were forced to kill your own sister and your friends to protect yourself and Thornbrood The Hellbound''s kingdom. You were eventually released by Gloommuck The Skeletal but found yourself alone at that moment without any money, supplies or even food other than what your friends left behind.


    It was then you made the fateful decision to return back to The Land of The Burning Pit to ask for aid from your fellow peasants. Unfortunately, you weren''t greeted well when you returned with your request. Most of them hated you now for being the cause of their downfall. Some still called you a witch.


    And though you did manage to get some help from a few villagers willing to help, you couldn''t do anything about the way they treated you; not that you really cared at this point since all hope seemed lost.


    But that wasn''t true. As it turned out, someone was willing to give you a second chance. Someone who believed you could actually make a difference instead of causing more misery in The Land of the Flaming Pit for the people living there. They were a man whose name you did not know: your Red Knight.


    Everything was fine, because you had found someone who cared for you, someone who protected you, someone who was there for you, no matter what.


    No matter what happened.


    You were never alone.


    You were never abandoned.


    You were never anything.


    You were never a thing.


    You didn''t have a past.


    You were just a future that never happened.


    No. That is not right.


    You do exist.


    You have a past.


    You have a future.


    And you escaped.


    You survived, with the help of your Red Knight.


    A man who has been nothing but kind and gentle to you since the moment you met him in that godforsaken dungeon. But now you''ve got nowhere to run, because you don''t know where this world ended up nor how long you were gone.


    You don''t remember much.


    Only bits and pieces about what happened after you killed your siblings and friends. Nothing else before that. You woke up here. You awoke in a dark room in Thornbrood The Hellbound''s palace.


    You had been brought here by the skeletal soldier who claimed to be your saviour. The skeletal soldier said it would be best if you remained here, in his home, and did not leave until he deemed it safe enough to bring you wherever you wanted.


    What the skeletal soldier didn''t know was that you knew exactly where you wanted to go.


    Your old friend, the skeleton man called Grimwyrrr, has returned. You met him once more while travelling the Dead Sea of The Lost. He gave you back your body after you lost consciousness and when you regained awareness again, you were reunited again. It seems that the skeletal soldier thought you were dead. He left you alone in a cell. You found out later that day that all those bones were not real. In fact, they were just the remains of corpses that the skeletal soldier disposed of, whenever he pleased. He made sure you got fed at least once a day but otherwise, you had nothing.


    All in all, you lived in this empty prison like a dog that no longer has its masters. Your only company was the skeletal guard


    You find yourself standing on a beach. Waves crash against the shore, the salty smell of the ocean fills your nostrils.


    You walk farther along the beach until the sand reaches the water''s edge, and it turns into something like stone. You take a few steps forward, and your bare feet sink down in the stone, causing a wave to roll towards you, but you don''t move from where you stand. Instead, you hold out your hand and wait.


    Slowly but surely the wave passes over, and then comes back and crashes again. This time however, you''re not at the receiving end of it, instead a dark figure rises from the surf and lands before you.


    "Welcome back." His voice sounds familiar, although you don''t recognize his face.


    A smile spreads across your lips. "It worked!" You exclaim happily. "I''m home!"


    He laughs quietly and takes your hands, giving them a light squeeze. "Welcome home, My Lady."


    Your smile fades as soon as he said that.


    "My lady?" He looks confused at your sudden change of expression.


    The only reason he spared you was because he sensed something about you, a strange connection that even he couldn''t explain. He could feel it when you were around. You reminded him of the past; a time before The Great War when he and his sister had been happy. He couldn''t help but feel like he knew you, like perhaps he had known your parents or siblings, but he didn''t know who or why. There was no way that they would''ve ever willingly given their precious child away.


    And yet, you had. That was the most puzzling part of all.


    Why, after so long and so many trials had he felt drawn to you? After so much pain, so much misery, you were just another face.


    No one seemed to notice you, not anymore at least, and certainly, no one cared.


    Why did you have such an effect on him, a man that barely tolerated anyone?


    Even his own son, Grog Gangrene Smokeghoul, looked at you with disdain. He saw you as beneath him and was always quick to dismiss you and tell you to get lost whenever he saw you coming.


    He was beginning to think that maybe you weren¡¯t so important after all and perhaps this was all some kind of sick joke or cruel prank. It must be; there is no other explanation.


    But still, as each day passed and you grew closer to him.


    You''re alive.


    You''re not alone.


    You''re not forgotten.


    You''re not asleep.


    You''re not safe.


    You''re in danger.


    But you''re alive.


    Ghostly knights from realms unknown stand guard to protect the living. Is that not the way it was? But why you? Of all the people he could have saved that day, why you?


    You are no one.


    You are a peasant girl from The Land of the Flaming Pit. Your parents died in a grisly murder orchestrated by one of Corpsegibber The Gibbering''s minions. Thornbrood The Hellbound, the ruler of The Demonic Outlands of the Lost had taken pity on you and adopted you into his family.


    Thornbrood The Hellbound sacrificed his own children to Corpsegibber The Gibbering and was to offer you, his new adopted daughter, next as fodder for the lich king, Gloommuck The Skeletal.


    But something happened.


    Something.


    You do not know what.


    You were not there.


    You were just a little girl and you only remember bits and pieces of what you were told.


    What?


    What was it they said to you?


    Why can''t you remember?


    In your home world there is an evil mage named Grimetheorath who has been terrorizing the villages in hopes of creating a kingdom out of their souls. He can see spirits, manipulate them and use his powers to create monsters to serve him. He also uses the souls of those with dark magic or the undead, like the necromancers and sorcerers, to fuel his experiments, making him a monster himself in this realm. You, along with two other girls, were found and spirited away by him when they escaped their village. When he discovered you were still alive, he attempted to get rid of you before you grew any more powerful than your friends, but was thwarted in this.


    You escaped with only slight injuries and managed to hide among a few peasants until night fell. Then you began to make your escape, only to be captured again and thrown in the dungeon under Castle Black by the infamous Witch of the Waste.


    From there you were taken to Castle Oblivion where you met Grimborn the Reaper, who took interest in you because of your abilities.


    When he learned of your past, he decided to take advantage of it by taking care of you. Using his dark arts, he used his ability to steal your soul, and turned you into a vampire, which gave you the ability to kill others.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    "You were a child," The Red Knight said. "A perfect test subject for the experiments that would lead to the creation of this glorious utopia."


    "But why me?" you ask, your voice growing louder. "Why did he choose me?"


    "Because you were the most beautiful girl in the village."


    "But I''m not beautiful anymore. Look at me."


    "Don''t be upset about it."


    "I don''t understand!" you scream angrily. Tears pour down your cheeks. "How come you won¡¯t tell me any more? How come he doesn¡¯t want to tell me? Why won¡¯t he answer my questions? How am I supposed to live my whole life without knowing anything more? How am I supposed to go through each day wondering what¡¯s going to happen to me?"


    The Red Knight pulls you towards him, and holds you tightly in his strong embrace.


    "When you''re older, when you''re ready," he tells you quietly. "Then I will explain everything to you. I promise."


    He kisses you gently on the lips.


    For a few moments you just stood in the middle of the courtyard, holding each other tightly in an embrace.


    The soldiers were still walking away from the village, leaving it behind for good.


    No one came close to look at you, but you could feel their eyes upon you, watching.


    The sun rose over the horizon.


    Time was moving fast.


    And slowly, too.


    You looked up at the blue sky, smiling. Everything was so peaceful here .


    It was quiet and serene here in the Staircase Hotel.


    The Staircase Hotel wasn¡¯t very big.


    It was made out of large stone blocks, covered in moss and ivy.


    It stood tall in front of the large windows overlooking the town. It seemed like an entire village lived in this hotel, but there was no sign or name anywhere. It just sat there like a giant abandoned castle with broken down gates, crumbling walls, cracked and crumbling roofs, and many holes. It didn''t look welcoming in the least. You couldn''t imagine living here in peace though.


    There were plenty of monsters roaming about.


    In fact, every time you stepped outside you''d see some monster lurking about, waiting to attack or to pounce upon unsuspecting victims, waiting to rip them apart. You always had to be ready for them because they never slept. They wouldn''t stop until you were gone. And now that you''ve been caught, you''re going to die.


    No one knew where you came from. No one except maybe your father who was locked away in his old dungeon cell. All anyone knew was that you were his illegitimate daughter.


    But why?


    Why did you end up alone in this place?


    Who cared if you were dead or alive anyways?


    What did it matter if you were here or there?


    You weren''t wanted anyway!


    Why would anyone else want you?


    As if reading your mind you saw someone walking in the hallway towards your room. Someone very familiar too.


    A beautiful stone gate led to the entrance of the Staircase Hotel, the main gate, which leads straight into the courtyard where you currently stood.


    The Staircase Hotel is surrounded by an enchanted forest. The entire town is protected by the enchantment trees.


    There were other small buildings around the outskirts of the town. There were shops, bars and restaurants.


    Your home.


    The Staircase Hotel itself looks like any castle or fortification. Its main entrance is wide open, a stone bridge leading over the gorge, through which the hotel lies. Inside the building are the reception desk and rooms.


    There are also several servants'' quarters that can be found outside near the main entrance. You lived there with one servant, an old butler named Nanny who came from another part of the town. It took you quite some time until you learned her name. She spoke little English, but spoke enough for you, at least to understand her.


    At your disposal, she did everything for you. Prepared meals, cooked them herself, washed your clothes and took care of you in all of those ways.


    Even though you were a noblewoman born and bred in the city, you spent most of your days indoors, in the stables. That way you were able to tend to your horses.


    After a while, even she grew tired of having to wait up for you to come back home each night, especially since the inn only allowed visitors in the daytime.


    On your left side was a small fountain with a white marble statue standing proud and tall. Above the fountain was a golden archway leading to the front door. Directly opposite to the entrance to the fountain was the stairs that led to the Staircase Hotel above.


    On each stair lay a large bronze statue, each one of a different race, each depicting an interesting story from their lives.


    There were many races there ¨C Humans, Elves, Dwarves, Gnomes, Fauns, Trolls, Faeries, Ogres, Dwarrow. You had seen them all, from every kingdom on Earth and beyond, and some of them had even been on other planets.


    To the right was a long stone pathway leading to the hotel.


    Along this path stood several statues dedicated to customers who came through the gates, usually at night when the town slept.


    There was a statue of a woman, sitting on her horse. She smiled down kindly towards you, her hand over her heart, as though telling you a secret she couldn''t speak. In her hands were two baskets, the tops filled with fresh produce and vegetables.


    Behind the statue of the woman, you saw a statue of a man. It seemed to be laughing, but perhaps it was only a trick of the light that made him seem as if he laughed. The statue was leaning slightly forward as he held the reins and stared at you, his face obscured by shadows, his eyes wide open. You didn''t know what he was looking at, but whatever it was, he appeared genuinely surprised by it.


    "You''ve come!" called a cheery voice from behind you.


    You spun around. An elderly woman dressed in a long black robe and red hat was sitting under the arched doorway to the staircase. Her face looked worn but warm. She smiled down at you kindly. Behind her was another figure. The other figure wore a long black robe and a crown. Both were smiling softly at you.


    You smiled back.


    The old woman stepped forward, holding her hands together like she wanted to welcome you home.


    "Welcome! My name is Rose."


    You extended your hand towards her. The two took hold of your hand.


    "I''m pleased to meet you," she continues. "I am Princess Rosemary of the Eastern Wastelands. This is my brother, King Jelesem Eboncloud the Second of Risen Dawn. And you may call us the Grim Reapers, if you like."


    "Grim Reapers?" you ask.


    "What''s this about?" asked the older man behind you.


    His arms crossed over his chest. He gave you a stern look.


    Your smile vanished.


    You lowered your head, your shoulders dropping in defeat.


    "I...I apologize."


    Your fists clenched tightly.


    Jelesem Eboncloud the Second of Risen Dawn sighed.


    "Oh, come now, little one."


    "No. No!" you protested.


    You lifted your head and fixed them both with an angry glare.


    "You have no right to do this! They''re monsters! They-"


    A voice called out to you.


    You turned around and saw none other than Gloommuck The Gibbering.


    Gloommuck The Hellbound!


    A terrifying being, whose every movement caused tremors to run down those beneath him. A giant man who wore dark clothing with black gloves.


    He carried an axe in each hand.


    The weapons, if they weren''t too large and bulky they would seem harmless enough, but this giant man held a fearsome look in his eye!


    A smile crossed his lips as he said, "Welcome!"


    "Thank you." You replied timidly.


    The giant man chuckled, "Don''t be shy! Everyone wants to meet a hero such as yourself!"


    His eyes gleamed dangerously as he said, "After all, we''re in a time of peril and need all the help we can get!"


    The man beside him extended his right arm towards you and said, "Come now. I''d like to introduce myself! My name is LelelaneLefou Grumblug Gintae Bonegloom The Baffled, Lord of All Known Realms. And you are?"


    You swallowed hard.


    What did you do?


    Why were these things always so difficult?


    How would you even begin explaining this to someone who hadn''t yet been to the mortal realm?


    This situation seemed to be getting worse and worse.


    On the steps that led to the Staircase Hotel was a massive oak tree. Its branches reached high up towards the heavens, reaching far beyond the archway and towards the Staircase Hotel.


    Behind you was the courtyard that surrounded the Staircase Hotel.


    You were just outside of the courtyard, near to a few other houses, some of them still intact. It wasn''t as if this town had been abandoned during the great war that took place many years ago, but nobody had bothered to rebuild these houses after being destroyed by the forces of Corpsegibber The Gibbering.


    In the centre of the courtyard there sat a statue of a man holding a sword aloft. He held two swords in his hands, one a scimitar and the other a broadsword. He held them at either side of him, and in each hand he wielded an enormous black shield.


    On his head rested a helmet, its face plate carved with intricate patterns and lines, resembling something out of a fantasy storybook.


    This knight must have been quite important to be depicted so faithfully, as he even wore a long cape with a hood drawn over his head. His face was hidden behind a mask, but what little of it was visible made his smile seem benevolent.


    A nameplate carved into the side of the helm read ¡®King Phoras Cruelghast Grimrod¡¯.


    King Phoras Cruelghast Grimrod, who had once lived in the town of Honeorac Darkfang. Who had once owned the land surrounding his castle, and whose death had caused the death of the previous owner in an alchemy lab explosion.


    But then again, so did every death in Honeorac Darkfang.


    To your right was the lake where you spent countless hours swimming and splashing about and laughing and having fun.


    And beyond that was the forest which surrounded the hotel with its dense and tangled trees and foliage.


    And in front of you, there was a small town with an open square and tall buildings with roofs of red tiles and chimneys rising to the heavens.


    The sun glistened off of windows and doors, and even from here you could tell how much cleaner it looked than what most villages were. A smile spread across your face.


    How nice would it be if this is home instead? You wondered.


    Home isn¡¯t where you live. Home is where you¡¯ve grown up, friends and schoolmates and home. That¡¯s where everyone lives.


    Even the castle has a village that is only separated from yours by the wall.


    Home isn¡¯t where you go to school, or to the pub, or to sleep.


    That¡¯s where everyone sleeps in the castle.


    Where everyone grows up together under the care of those who love them.


    So why can¡¯t I stay here forever?


    Why couldn¡¯t we just keep coming back here?


    Where did we go wrong?


    In front of you stretched a long pathway that connected the Staircase Hotel to the village, which also contained the stables where all the horses and chariots were housed.


    To your left was the lake which stretched out for miles, sparkling under the bright sunlight.


    In front of you, to your right, was the path to the Staircase Hotel, winding its way through the woods.


    To your left, to your right, you could see the village that lay in the distance.


    A beautiful forest of trees surrounded you on all sides, with only the mountains looming over you.


    It is such a simple town. So innocent looking. You could hardly believe the things that have happened here, or rather, haven¡¯t happened. All it took was one man to destroy the entire world. It is hard to believe, truly. How can there be peace again? You don''t know what has changed within the village since you''ve been gone. Perhaps everything has been the same. But something has definitely changed.


    As you walk along the pathway, a soft breeze blows by. There''s something else too, besides the wind. Something... off.


    No matter how often I walk past this road, I never seem to reach my destination.


    What am I missing? What will become of my life now? Where do I begin? I need answers.


    I need to find out who did this to me, and where they are hiding!


    "Hello there," a young voice called to you as it echoed down the path.


    Startled, you jumped a little bit before turning around. Two children, younger than you, were standing just outside the entrance to the Staircase Hotel. Their dark hair blew gently in the wind. They wore light green clothes, with some sort of symbol on their chest.


    The village was empty now.


    Everyone uneaten by the undead, had fled to Darkheart Forest.


    Darkheart Forest was home to the legendary ghouls known as Lerulus Doomcloud Slothburrow and Mamivandei Terroreye Ghastlycorpse.


    They were creatures of myth and fantasy.


    Yet creatures real as day.


    Creatures that roamed at night.


    Creatures... Creatures with no true form, only shadowy forms, shadows which could pass through walls or windows as they chose.


    No two ghoul attacks have ever been identical. Each attack is a distinct creature, with its own individual traits and unique characteristics.


    Mamivandei Terroreye Ghastlycorpse is the tallest ghoul in the forest, almost reaching the top of the tallest tree in the forest.


    It can climb trees to reach the top branches, making it impossible for ordinary humans to reach them without climbing the tree itself.


    Mamivandei Terroreye Ghastlycorpse feeds mostly off flesh, blood, bones, organs¡­ anything it can get its hands on!


    Lerulus Doomcloud Slothburrow is smaller than Gloomy Grimble Fendalal Coldstrike, but its tentacles are more powerful, longer, stronger and thicker, able to grasp onto any object in their clutches.


    When slithering around, it looks like an ugly, dark purple worm, only larger, slimmer and covered with a layer of green slime. Its claws are sharp and deadly, and while it doesn''t seem to be particularly strong physically, its venomous bite paralyzes those unfortunate enough to come close to it.


    Gloomy Grimble Fendalal Coldstrike has three eyes and four arms. It has many teeth and tentacles that look like snakes or spiders.


    You recalled the night, as you two made your way through the town. You and your Red Knight, when you noticed that more people were staring at the strange knight who was leading you away from their homes. Most of the people seemed to be running away from him, hiding behind buildings or even hiding under vehicles. You kept looking back at The Red Knight.


    Why are people so scared of him?


    Can they not see how helpful he is?


    You look to him still and can not understand, why were they so afraid.


    Why had they hidden under their cars and trucks?


    Even though, your Red Knight looked like a devil with his red cloak and red gloves and red horns on his helmet, with beautiful red feathered wings on his back you felt certain, that he was in truth, your personal guardian angel.


    Sent to protect you.


    Sent to save you.


    Surely he would not let you die.


    Surely there was no reason to fear him.


    In the morning light, you and the red winged knight made your way out of the town, turned towards Darkheart Forest, and rode towards the forest.


    The Demonic Outlands of the Lost is a world of monsters, swollen with endless armies of the undead, where flesh-eating ghouls rule the world, vampires roam the streets freely, and all living creatures are at their mercy. It would be no easy task to reach Darkheart Forest.


    A demonic warrior blocks your way.


    "Where are you bound?"


    "We''re going to Darkheart Forest."


    "Not allowed," the warrior says.


    "Why?" you ask.


    "Because."


    "Because is not an answer."


    "It is if I say it is."


    "Why?"


    "We are the elite. We are the elite of the undead."


    "I am the Queen of the Damned," you say, staring the warrior dead in his eyes. "You will hear me and obey!"


    He laughed for a moment, but you held you gaze, and he stops chuckling and begins to look worried.


    "Are you really the Queen?" he asks.


    "I am," you reply. "I was a peasant girl from The Land of the Flaming Pit. My parents died in a grisly murder orchestrated by one of Corpsegibber The Gibbering''s minions. Thornbrood The Hellbound, the ruler of The Demonic Outlands of the Lost took pity on me and adopted me into his family. Thornbrood The Hellbound sacrificed his own children to Corpsegibber The Gibbering and was to offer me, his new adopted daughter, next as fodder for the lich king, Gloommuck The Skeletal. I am therefore the rightful Queen of the Damned."


    The warrior seemed to be thinking for a time.


    Then he says, with a bow, "Then, allow me to guide you and your noble knight to Darkheart Forest."


    "Thank you," you reply, bowing back at him.


    As you continue riding down the road, you find yourself glancing over at The Red Knight. He has taken off his helmet and is staring blankly ahead, his face expressionless.


    You feel bad for him.


    He looks so tired, despite the fact that it has only been three days since you met him. He must be exhausted by carrying this enormous weight around on his shoulders.


    When you glance back at the road ahead, you notice that the Warrior is following closely behind you and The Red Knight.


    You turn back around in your seat. "Excuse me, sirs," you say.


    "Yes, my lady?" The Red Knight responds.


    "I don''t suppose you know any place to rest for today?"


    "No, my lady, we do not."


    "I thought perhaps we might stop and sleep for a while?"


    The Red Knight nods. "That sounds nice. What sort of resting location would you suggest?"


    "Perhaps you should take the reigns of our horse, I shall get off and stretch my legs," you respond.


    "Very well, my lady," The Red Knight replies.


    "And thank you, sir."


    The Red Knight smiles. He bows slightly before getting off the horse''s back.


    "How is it you ride horses?" the demon warrior asked. "Every one else drives cars and trucks."

 Staircase Hotel: Week 1 of 52 - Challenge Day 7

    "Horses are more reliable," The Red Knight answered. "They do not break down like cars. They do not require gas to run. And we can get up the mountains and through the forests on roads cars can not get past."


    "You have many admirable qualities, my lord," the Demon Warrior said.


    The Red Knight smiled again. You watched him carefully.


    You didn''t want him to be sad.


    Suddenly, something caught your eye.


    A movement.


    A little way further along the road, there appeared an old man, sitting on the ground, leaning against a tree, his head resting on his knees. His face was covered in tears, his arms wrapped tightly around his shrivelled chest, rocking back and forth.


    "What is happening to him, my lady?" The Red Knight asked.


    "I saw him earlier. In the square, he looked absolutely brokenhearted and hopeless. Perhaps he lost someone dear to him as well. I think you should approach him and speak with him. I will return shortly."


    "Okay," The Red Knight replied.


    "My lady?" the demon warrior questioned.


    "Go on ahead. I will follow after you in a little while."


    "Understood."


    The warrior galloped away.


    You got off the horse and approached the old man.


    You stood beside him and looked at him.


    He continued to sit with his head resting on his knees, rocking back and forth.


    "Hey, buddy," you said softly. "Aren¡¯t you gonna eat? Aren¡¯t you cold?"


    "I¡­"


    "You hungry? Hungry enough for a sandwich, maybe some soup?" you asked.


    You sat down next to the man on the ground.


    "Hey, buddy¡­are you alright?"


    "No¡­I am not alright."


    You smiled at him. You placed a hand gently upon his shoulder.


    "I''m sure you''ll feel better soon."


    "My name is Y/N," you tell him.


    He did not reply.


    He remained silent.


    "Is there anything you need?" you asked.


    "Please, just leave me alone," he replied.


    Your smile disappeared. He began crying quietly to himself.


    "I''m sorry," you said.


    You pulled out a blanket from your saddlebag and wrapped it around the man¡¯s shoulders.


    "Here," you said, placing the blanket around his shoulders. "Better?"


    The man shook his head.


    "Let me warm you up," you said.


    Without saying another word, you stood up and began walking away.


    The man was watching you with wide, frightened eyes.


    You walked until you reached the edge of the road.


    Looking behind you, you saw the warrior and his mount had disappeared.


    You turned back around and faced the old man.


    "Here," you said, sitting down beside him once more. "I can get you some soup."


    The man stared at you.


    His head lifted. He began to cry again.


    "Please," you said, holding back your own tears.


    The old man began sniffling. He removed his hood and wiped his tear filled eyes with the sleeves of his black leather tunic.


    "Please, don''t cry," you told him. "You look so broken."


    "My heart is broken too," he says, looking at you.


    "What happened?"


    "Nothing happened," he replies.


    "Tell me."


    "I am just lost," he says. "Lost and hurt, confused and lost."


    "Lost?" you asked.


    "Lost and hurting."


    "I am so sorry," you replied, "you have been through a lot."


    "You have no idea," he responded.


    "I understand. But, I believe that together, we could help each other to get through it."


    "Together?" he asks.


    "Sure," you nod. "I promise to help you. Help you to get through it. Will you come with me?"


    "I don''t want to leave you here alone," he said.


    "There are people looking for you too," you say. "I don''t blame you, considering what happened to your wife and son."


    He paused for a moment, looking at you for a moment before nodding slowly.


    He wipes his nose with the sleeve of his black shirt.


    "Can I touch you?" he asked. "Just to know that you are real?"


    "Of course you can," you said.


    Gently, the man placed his hands on either side of your face and stroked gently along your cheeks.


    "I am very scared, Lady," the man said.


    "I know you are," you replied.


    "My life has become meaningless," he continues. "I have nothing left now."


    "Well, at least you have someone who loves you," you replied.


    "I wish she loved me," he said.


    "She does," you replied.


    "But¡­it doesn''t seem to matter. She leaves me every morning without even saying good bye."


    "She loves you," you repeat.


    "No, she does not," he said.


    "Listen," you said. "You''re going to be okay. Don''t worry."


    "Do you love me, Lady?" he asked you.


    "More than life itself."


    "Do you love him?"


    "Yes."


    "Good. Because I love you."


    "That''s good," you say.


    "If it weren''t for you, I would be rotting away in a dungeon somewhere."


    "Don''t say that," you whisper softly. "You would never rot away."


    "I would," he replied. "I''m already in a cell deep within Darkheart Forest."


    "Oh, no..." you whispered, "no. Please don''t say that."


    The old man continued to sob silently.


    "Please...please don''t cry,"


    "I am doomed."


    "No, you''re not. You''re not doomed," you said. "You''re not. This is just a bad dream. Wake up."


    "Why should I wake up? Why should I live when I cannot do anything anymore? Everything has gone wrong. My world is crumbling around me, I''m falling apart. Nothing matters anymore, everything has turned dark. I don''t care about myself. I don''t care if I ever get up again. I have no future. I am useless, worthless, pathetic. How can anyone possibly love me?"


    "Stop!" you cried. "Stop! Stop talking like that! Look at me! Listen to me! You''re worth so much more than this! You''re worth so much more than anything or anyone in this world! Do you hear me? You''re worth so much more than everyone in the whole universe combined! No one will ever love you, no one will ever abandon you! There is no reason for you to give up! You''re going to be OK! You''re strong! You''re brave! You''re kind! You''re beautiful! You''re amazing! You have so many wonderful things you could do, so many things in life you could achieve! Please, please don''t throw all those things away because of this! Because of what happened to your wife and son! Please, please, please don''t let this ruin everything! Don''t let these awful things destroy everything you''ve built up over the last ten years! Your life is so full of hope and promise, don''t let this one event turn everything dark! Don''t let it all be for naught!"


    "I told you naught of my wife and son! How do you know of this?"


    "I saw them dead, back in the village. After the undead attacked. I remembered seeing you with them before around town. And then I find you here. So I just assumed."


    "You saw...what?"


    "I saw your son."


    The old man gasped loudly and suddenly stood upright.


    He stared at you, wide eyed.


    Then, he stumbled backwards several steps.


    His knees buckled underneath him. As if he had been hit by lightning, he collapsed on his back and lay sprawled out across the grass.


    He lay there motionless, breathing heavily.


    Then, after a few moments, he moved slightly, as though trying to reach something. He looked down to the floor, then reached out with both hands and gripped the grass.


    He dragged himself slowly across the damp ground.


    He moved closer and closer to where you were sitting.


    As he drew near, you noticed that he didn¡¯t look quite right. There was something wrong with his eyes. They were dull and lifeless.


    Not only that, but they appeared cloudy as well.


    And most importantly¡­they were completely empty.


    "What are you doing?" you asked, standing up.


    He stopped dragging himself forward, staring blankly into space.


    It seemed as though the colour had drained from his skin. It appeared almost as white as the snow that surrounded him. The colour had left his face, leaving him pale and sickly looking.


    "Where am I?" he asked.


    "In the middle of nowhere¡­" you replied.


    "How¡­How did you find me?"


    "What do you mean?"


    "I mean, how did you find me? I''ve been looking for you for weeks. I have been searching The Demonic Outlands of the Lost high and low for you."


    "Have you?"


    "Yes, I have," he replied. "Didn''t you find any sign of me?"


    "Not really," you replied. "I found lots of strange things out here in the forest."


    "Strange?"


    "Yeah. Like skulls with eyes carved into the heads and bodies scattered all over the place."


    "Strange?" he repeated.


    "Yep, strange," you answered. "So, what is your name?"


    "I am called Sanguinius Cirdo Blackcloud from the Duchy of the Twenty Snakes and the Seven Holy Foxes," he replied. "My people call me Lord Sanguine of the Serpents."


    "Nice to meet you," you smiled. "I was a peasant girl from The Land of the Flaming Pit. My parents died in a grisly murder orchestrated by one of Corpsegibber The Gibbering''s minions. Thornbrood The Hellbound, the ruler of The Demonic Outlands of the Lost took pity on me and adopted me into his family. Thornbrood The Hellbound sacrificed his own children to Corpsegibber The Gibbering and was to offer me, his new adopted daughter, next as fodder for the lich king, Gloommuck The Skeletal. I am therefore the rightful Queen of the Damned. I was travelling through this area and I heard screams coming from here. So I came here and found you lying in front of this old barn."Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    Lord Sanguinius lowered his eyes as he sighed deeply.


    "I need your help," he said.


    "How am I supposed to help you?"


    "You must take me home," Sanguinius replied.


    "To your people?"


    Sanguinius Cirdo Blackcloud from the Duchy of the Twenty Snakes and the Seven Holy Foxes nodded.


    "What kind of help are you asking for?" you asked.


    "Help to free us," Sanguinius Cirdo Blackcloud from the Duchy of the Twenty Snakes and the Seven Holy Foxes replied. "We''ve been trapped in this miserable place. We are starving and dying. We need water desperately."


    "I don''t think I can help you. I don''t know where the hell I am."


    "You''re in the Lost Realm," Lord Sanguinius stated flatly.


    "A Lost Realm?"


    "A realm that lies deep in the woods. In the deepest parts of The Lost Realms. It is where the undead come from and where the souls reside. A terrible place, an eternal prison that exists beyond time itself."


    "Are you insane? Are you really asking me to go traipsing across some random forest in The Lost Realms to rescue the inhabitants of some mythical realm which has no laws and no rules other than to exist? If we got lost in there and wandered forever we would starve to death or freeze to death."


    "I cannot die," Lord Sanguinius replied quietly.


    "Oh yeah, I forgot, ''cause your soul is immortal."


    "I assure you, I cannot die, Lady."


    "Why?"


    "Because¡­" Lord Sanguinius trailed off.


    "Well, why? What''s stopping you from dying?"


    "I''m a wizard."


    "And wizards don''t die."


    "This is different. I''m not a wizard. I''m a wizard with the power to heal. Healing is what wizards use. They heal."


    "I thought that was forbidden to wizards."


    "There is a lot of rule breaking happening right now, Lady. It happens all the time. Things get complicated. Sometimes, the rules can be broken. All things are possible."


    "I need a better reason than that, Sanguinius. I''m going home, or to a really big woods, whichever comes first."


    "Very well," Sanguinius said.


    You look around for the demon warrior and your red knight and realize for the first time, they are gone. You search the immediate area and look for any tracks that would lead you to them and realize you have no idea what you''re doing. You need someone who knows the area.


    Someone familiar. Someone who can tell you where to start. But when you look around for her, no one is there.


    You sigh loudly.


    Suddenly, you feel cold. You shiver violently. Your breath forms white clouds in the air before you and dissipates instantly. Your heart races wildly in your chest.


    Suddenly, you hear something.


    Like, a whimpering. A desperate, pained cry.


    A cry of despair.


    Then, silence.


    Your head snaps up and swivels around, scanning the trees surrounding you.


    "Who''s there? Show yourself!" you shout. "Show yourself, damn it! Come out, whoever you are!"


    You stare into the darkness, waiting.


    But, as you continue searching, you realize that there is nothing there, nor anywhere else.


    Just you and the man sitting beside you, lying on the grass, still alive and well.


    Nothing has changed.


    Nothing.


    "Who are you?" you ask, again, your voice barely audible above the crackling fire. "Show yourself!"


    "I''m a wizard," he replies simply. "Don''t worry about me, Lady. I am fine. I promise. Please leave, and I will be alright. Just leave, please. Take my horse. Leave my horse. Let him loose somewhere. Give him water."


    It''s a realm of death, where even the most powerful beings fall victim to disease or age. In the centre, however, there are seven lights that glow with an unholy yellow hue; these lights lead towards the lighted land of The Demonic Outlands of the Lost. The lights are what keeps the demons alive while those creatures from the dark, who don''t have souls are kept away from the lights. The closer you get to the light, the less likely you are to be harmed.


    You set off towards the lights and leave Sanguinius to guard your back.


    You move through the shadowy realm of death.


    In The Demonic Outlands of the Lost, everything goes wrong. You can never be safe in this world for long. You always have to watch your back at all times or the shadows will come after you. And no matter how far you run or how well you hide you won''t be able to get away. The shadow demons have an uncanny ability to track your every move. They are everywhere and they''re getting stronger.


    You''re in a small village of hapless creatures who have nowhere to run. They are either hunted down, slaughtered, or simply killed as they run from the demonic horde which has just invaded their town. There is no escape. All that remains for you to do is fight. Fight with everything you have until the last person falls under the blades of the relentless onslaught.


    This isn¡¯t your first raid on a village. This one is different.


    There¡¯s something special about this particular mission. Not only did it take you months to find a target, but it also seemed so...easy?


    No matter what anyone said, you didn¡¯t believe them. You refused to allow yourself to think that these people could be taken out so easily and yet here they were.


    You had been hunting in the forest when you heard someone cry out. It was the voice of an old woman who begged for mercy as she tried to crawl her way across the dirt towards you. She pleaded for help and she was going to die if you did not act fast enough.


    When you finally got up close enough to grab onto her and pull her into your arms, you found that something about her was familiar. Something about the way she spoke...the sound of her voice was almost...familiar but before you could put the pieces together to figure out why it sounded like that, the shadow army swept by. It was as if they had never been there!


    After that little display of speed and agility you could tell that the people of this village had no chance.


    No one can escape the clutches of Death. So, whenever they see something on its own they leave it alone and if someone else decides to play with the little thing then it doesn''t stay dead for very long. Even if you know how to take care of them, they still can take some of your strength away. They can turn people into skeletons before they''re aware of what happened to them. This is why many avoid the lighted lands and the demons who live there.


    The shadow demons are in the habit of using illusion to conceal their presence. They can pop up anywhere and look very real. They are known to use this ability to hide in plain sight while they plan their next strike.


    However, there is no need for illusions when they have the power to make themselves appear almost transparent in an instance. The shadows are not just one or two demons but hundreds in number that form a living cloud around the area of where you stand, making it difficult to discern any individual.


    But what does give them away is the sound of metal clanking against stone and steel. They can be heard by all regardless of where they are. And so, when an entire group of shadow demons appeared behind him, he wasn''t surprised. He didn''t even move from his position as he continued staring at the entrance to the dark cave.


    They were waiting.


    You could feel them watching every move you make while you stared at the door through which they entered. Every step you take towards the door was like stepping onto a landmine. It would only be a matter of time before someone got hurt, possibly even yourself.


    And so you wait. There were three things that you knew would come first.


    First being if there would still be people outside. If not, the shadow demons wouldn''t be able to get in as easily.


    And second; if there were other hunters. You want to believe that there would be people that you are familiar with. That there were other humans that you knew. But it never mattered. All that mattered now was how much time had passed. And the third thing was, of course, the Ghoul King and his undead horde.


    You are about to step back, to stare into the cave, to do whatever it is that you do when something stops you in your tracks.


    After many years of war the people of The Demonic Outlands of the Lost have finally got the upper hand in the war with their undead neighbours. The people banded together and fought as a unit, with the powerful leader of The Demonic Outlands of the Lost leading them to victory.


    Now they don''t fight alone. And because of that, they are able to win. Their enemy has fallen and now they are left with little to do. And since there is no longer fighting to continue, the shadows decided to show themselves.


    You watch as the shadows slowly shift their positions until they are standing directly behind you. They surround you. Not in their human shape, but in their true forms. You hear their footsteps. One pair on each side. As they approach you, closer, and closer...


    "Boo."


    Your reaction is instant. Turning around you see a man dressed in a black and red cloak and mask. His hair is pulled back into a braid down his back, a black mask covering most of his face. You quickly notice his hands resting upon his hips, a smile spreading across his lips as if he was amused by your reaction to his sudden appearance.


    You recognize him immediately, even though it has been more than ten years since you saw each other. You remember well those eyes that sparkled with mischief whenever he smirked or laughed. Those eyes that glistened in delight whenever he played his games, and the playful smirk he gave.


    Those eyes you used to chase, but you know that you will never again catch his attention.


    The Ghoul King looks back at his comrades. "What do you think? He looks pitiful, doesn''t he?" The Ghoul King laughs. "But don''t let that fool you. He is one of the most dangerous creatures we face." The Ghoul King strides forward. "


    "All of this, for a hotel?" you ask.


    "Not just any hotel," your Red Knight answers. "Staircase Hotel."


    "I don''t get it!"


    "Staircase Hotel is special."


    "Yeah, I know, you said that. But I still don''t get it. It just a hotel. Nations are killing each other over a stupid, dumb hotel."


    "It''s one of The Thirteen Obsidian Towers."


    "Never heard of it." you respond, confused.


    "Well, it''s old and you''re young."


    "Okay, so why me?"


    "In you, I''ve finally found someone that appreciates my unique talents."


    "What talents?" you ask.


    "I am the King of the Damned. I have the powers of a King, and more importantly, I have the support of the Dark Gods."


    "How can you be the King of the Damned? I am the Queen of the Damned, remember?"


    "I remember. You are a peasant girl from The Land of the Flaming Pit. Your parents have recently died in a grisly murder orchestrated by one of Corpsegibber The Gibbering''s minions. Thornbrood The Hellbound, the ruler of The Demonic Outlands of the Lost has taken pity on you and adopted you into his family. Thornbrood The Hellbound sacrificed his own children to Corpsegibber The Gibbering and will offer you, his new adopted daughter as fodder for the lich king, Gloommuck The Skeletal. And that makes you the Queen of the Damned. Queen of Hell."


    "I don''t want any part of this," you say, starting to back away.


    But you can''t run fast enough.


    "It''s a little more then that peasant. The Dark Gods are very fond of the Dark Plan. They have blessed my quest."


    ."The Dark Gods?" you ask, now slightly worried.


    "The ones that sleep below. The ones that walk the earth and possess everything."


    "Oh. Well. Why are you telling me?"


    After years of planning the people of The Demonic Outlands of the Lost has finally overthrown their vile king and took control of their own government. Also they have been able to communicate with the leader of their hated enemies, Drdet Ironbrood, the Eternity Graveknight.


    The Demonic Outlands of the Lost is the dark and dangerous world of the undead. You question why you live here. Why you don''t just leave. However, for some reason, it''s your home. That''s when you come across a human girl, with bright green skin and blue hair in a ponytail. The only thing keeping her alive are rotting corpses. Her eyes glaze over as she looks at them. When you approach, she looks at you and raises an eyebrow. You''re confused. Why isn''t she going away? Is this normal?


    ¡°I''m not going to eat you¡­ I promise.¡± She tells you.


    It almost sounds like a joke, but it wasn''t and neither was the fact that she seemed to be trying very hard to hold back tears.


    ¡°Can I trust you?¡± She asks, looking up at you.


    She seems nice enough. She doesn''t look too intimidating. You decide to go for it anyway. You nod as she smiles softly. A moment later, another figure appears from out of nowhere. He grabs the girl by the arm and pulls her away from you before you could even think twice about it. She stumbles as she tries to break free of his grasp but he continues to pull her away until they disappear in the dark. What the fuck?


    What are these people?


    They can''t be real.


    You''ve never seen anyone else in these parts, especially someone so young and fragile.


    You look at the corpses and feel a sense of relief. They''re just corpses that you can''t feel.


    You look down at your hands. They''re just hands that you can''t see.


    You turn around, walking away towards the light.


    Once you reach the exit to this hell hole you find yourself on the edge. A small ledge is between two large rocks that make up the walls of the cliff side and below you is a deep and cold abyss. Below you the ground is uneven and covered with moss and grass. You look up and you''re greeted by the sun. Its warm glow reflects off of the rocks around you and you bask in its warmth as you look around. It feels safe here, you tell yourself.


    You sit down against the wall and close your eyes. There''s silence and peace here. You feel at ease here. You take in a deep breath and exhale. This place reminds you of a park. Where the sky is so clear above and you are surrounded by nature. It feels serene and calm here. You wonder where the other players might have gone. You hope they''ll be alright. You sigh as you look down into the abyss. You really don''t want to fall, but you also really didn''t want to stay here either. You''re afraid of heights. You''ve always felt like you couldn''t fly. Like the wind would drag you downwards and cause you to plummet down. You shiver.


    You hear some rustling. You open your eyes and glance up towards the cliff side where the sound came from.


    You see a small figure standing on the edge of the rock. He looks down at you and smiles. You stand up and wave to him. He begins to walk down the edge of the rock.


    He is carrying a crystal skull in his hand. The skull is so large that it takes all his strength to carry it. The skull is glowing faintly. It draws you up and towards it. You begin to feel light-headed as you get closer to the skull.


    A strange power is emanating from the skull.


    You feel your mind being probed. You find yourself unable to resist the onslaught of the thoughts being forced into your mind. The thoughts are being broadcast from the skull like a TV signal.


    What is this thing?


    You hear a voice inside your head.


    This is a spirit of the First Born. He is here to aid you in your endeavours.


    The words in the skull echo in your brain. They repeat themselves in an annoying fashion.


    The spirit of the First born watches and observes as you come closer. You approach the skull slowly and cautiously until you are mere inches away. The creature''s eyes focus solely on you and its smile grows wider.


    You can sense something within the spirits body. Something powerful.


    It is as if there were thousands of lights within the beings body. You could not tell what those lights were supposed to represent. There was a feeling you had never experienced before. A feeling as though the darkness itself was about to consume everything you knew, yet in the same time it felt as if everything would always be fine as long as you could feel the presence of such an entity in the world.


    You could not explain it nor understand it, but you believed that he was protecting you and that there was nothing to fear. As you reached out for the skull and held it in your hands, his light engulfed you.


    And then he vanished, leaving only a single thought floating around in your mind as you fell unconscious.


    You wake up in pain, gasping for air, with no idea how you got there. When you open your eyes, you see your Red Knight looking at you anxiously. Your Red Knight sits beside you, watching you carefully.


    ¡°Are you okay, baby?¡±


    "The skull!" you say as you sit up quickly.


    "What skull?


    "The crystal skull..." you stop talking and look around.


    The cliff is gone.


    You are not outside ant more.


    You are back inside Staircase Hotel. You can tell by how many staircases there are coming and going.


    Your Red Knight looks at you with a worried expression.


    "Are you okay? You''ve been staring at that staircase for quite a while."


    "What happened to the skull?" you ask.


    He frowns, clearly confused.


    "It''s in the corner of this place; I can''t believe you haven''t seen it before. It belonged to King Gwallmaiic, eons ago," he exclaims and points.


    You look around for some time before your eyes finally catch on the aforementioned figure.


    A skeleton with a red cloak stands in an archway, his skull staring into the room with a curious gaze.


    For a few moments, neither of you dare move, too afraid someone will see your faces. Finally, you break the silence by clearing your throat.


    "Well then¡­"


    "Yeah," The Red Knight agrees with a nervous chuckle. "Let''s go find out what this means."


    The two of you walk up the stairs. The Red Knight turns left when you get closer, but not quickly enough; as soon as he does so, your hands fly forward and grab him by the shoulders.


    "I have a bad feeling about this. I mean, if we go in there alone, the chances of us dying are high¡­" you mutter nervously.


    "Don''t worry! I''ll be fine! And besides, we''re a pair of soldiers who have fought countless battles, right? Let''s prove everyone else wrong!"


    After giving him a doubtful look, you let go of his shoulder and take a step back, just in case.


    ***


    Dr. Albius StrangeGlove closed his book. "That is all for tonight," he said as he got out of his chair and picked up his lantern. "Time for bed."


    The children, complained that they wanted to hear the rest, but yawn, they climbed into bed, and went to sleep, to dream the end of the story, each finding their own ending in the land of their dreams.


    ~o0o~


    THE END. . .Until Next Time?


    ~o0o~

 52 Weeks - Week 2: Santas Raid on The North Pole (Working Title)

    ~o0o~


    Santa''s Raid on The North Pole


    The Adventures of Quaraun the Insane


    A Random Short Story


    By


    EelKat Wendy Christine Allen


    ~o0o~


    Quaraun, a male Moon Elf silk weaver and glass blower from Ivujivik, Quebec, now residing in Pepper Valley, Maine, lived and travelled with his lover BoomFuzzy the Unicorn, who was a Lich. GhoulSpawn, Quaraun¡¯s time travelling companion, had dropped out of the sky during the night and was now debating with Quaraun, while Unicorn slept.


    ¡°So, you¡¯re telling me,¡± GhoulSpawn sputtered in disbelief. ¡°That Santa Claus is real?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Quaraun said, very matter-of-factly, while staring intently at the pink silk that was stretched across the enormous wooden hoop in front of him. He set about to threading his needle and embroidering the cloth.


    ¡°And Krampus is real. . .¡± GhoulSpawn went on.


    ¡°Krumpas,¡± Quaraun corrected, not lifting his eyes from his task. The pink silk he was embroidering blended in with the pink taffeta gown he was wearing. Both flowed over his lap, draping gracefully down to the ground, trailing into the snow, becoming soggy and frozen solid.


    GhoulSpawn huffed impatiently. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°His name is Krumpas, like a crumpet. Not Krampus, like stomach cramps. Everyone always gets it wrong.¡±


    ¡°Krumpas.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Quaraun replied again, looking up briefly to regard his companion. His tone was calm but firm as he continued his work.


    GhoulSpawn sighed heavily. ¡°But why?¡± he asked exasperatingly. ¡°Why does anyone believe that this guy exists when everyone knows he doesn¡¯t?¡±


    Quaraun shrugged and said nothing.


    ¡°And all this time I thought you were making it up,¡± GhoulSpawn said sarcastically, still disbelieving.


    ¡°I¡¯m not making it up,¡± Quaraun replied firmly. He turned back to his task, now attaching tiny seed beads to the embroidery.


    ¡°Krampus is a Troll. . .¡±


    ¡°KRUMPAS is a Phooka,¡± Quaraun smiled wryly as he spoke. ¡°Faeries are real. You know that. BoomFuzzy was a Faerie. Unicorn is a Faerie. Is it so hard to believe that Santa Claus is a FarDarrig and Krumpas is a Phooka, and the Christmas Elves are Brownies?¡±


    GhoulSpawn stared at his best friend for a moment, unable to believe what he was hearing. ¡°Are you serious?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Of course I am,¡± Quaraun said. ¡°I¡¯m an Elf. I am incapable of making jokes or telling lies. Would you hand me those scissors?¡± Quaraun gestured towards the basket on the ground.


    ¡°You know I met plenty of Elves who told jokes and lies, Quaraun,¡± GhoulSpawn said as he knelt beside the basket and rummaged through it, looking for Quaraun¡¯s scissors. ¡°Your inability to laugh or smile or understand jokes or tell lies has nothing to do with you being an Elf and everything to do with you being Autistic.¡±


    ¡°Being what?¡± Quaraun asked as he took the scissors from GhoulSpawn. ¡°Thank you.¡± Quaraun cut the thread and proceeded to thread the needle again, this time with a different shade of pink silk.


    ¡°Autistic.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Quaraun asked simply, continuing his work.


    ¡°It¡¯s mental disorder. You wouldn¡¯t understand it if I tried to explain it. Science hasn¡¯t discovered it yet, so even if I tried to explain it, all I would do is confuse you. Just believe me when I tell you that you are the most savant Autistic Savant I¡¯ve ever seen.¡±


    ¡°I will believe you, that I am whatever you just called me, if you believe me when I tell you Santa Claus is real and so is Krumpas.¡±


    ¡°So, besides telling me Santa Claus is real, and he¡¯s a Leprechaun . . . ¡±


    ¡°FarDarrig.¡±


    ¡°Same thing.¡±


    ¡°No. Leprechauns are Irish and FarDarrigs are Welsh.¡±


    ¡°And Clurichaun are Scottish. Yes, I know. I know my Faerie races. Leprechauns are Irish mischief sprites who hoard up gold. Clurichaun are Scottish mischief sprites who go on drinking binges. FarDarrigs are Welsh mischief sprites who push Humans off precipices and later make coats out of Human skins. But they are all mischief sprites who grew old and became solitary grouchy old men. They are all three the exact same thing, just called something different depending on where they live. But that¡¯s besides the point. You¡¯re also telling me Krampus is real and his name is actually Krumpas, not Krampus?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°And Krampus. . .¡±


    ¡°Krumpas.¡±


    ¡°Krumpas, is BoomFuzzy¡¯s cousin?¡±


    ¡°Unicorn. Yes.¡±


    ¡°And you two go visit him at the North Pole every Christmas?¡±


    ¡°Labrador,¡± Quaraun said.


    ¡°What?¡±


    Quaraun didn¡¯t say anything for several moments. He sat back, crossing his legs, looking down at the glistening snow thoughtfully. Finally, he nodded slowly, seeming to think better of whatever it was he had planned to say.


    ¡°Santa¡¯s Village is in Labrador,¡± Quaraun said slowly and calmly. ¡°Not the North Pole. Common mistake. We of Ivujivik are actually further Northward than Santa Claus is.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah?¡± GhoulSpawn¡¯s tone was condescending.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Whatever. You¡¯re telling me he¡¯s real and you visit him?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    GhoulSpawn crossed his arms angrily in front of his chest, as he muttered under his breath and stomped through the snow, pacing for several moments.


    Quaraun intently regarded GhoulSpawn¡¯s cloven hoof prints in the snow.


    ¡°Your footprints look like reindeer trails,¡± Quaraun mused.


    ¡°What?¡± GhoulSpawn was caught off guard by this change in subject.


    ¡°When we get to Santa¡¯s Village, you need to run past the stables a few times, so I can see how much like reindeer hooves, your sheep hooves are.¡±


    GhoulSpawn threw his hands in the air in frustration. Then he paced back and forth some more.


    ¡°He¡¯s real? Like, really real?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°You expect me to believe that?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°And you haven¡¯t been back in a few years, because last time you were there, Unicorn ate Santa¡¯s Elves, slaughtered his reindeer, and accidentally produced a portal that sent Santa to Hell and brought Satan to the North Pole?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but that was years ago. I¡¯ve dealt with those situations.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°And besides, I told you, it¡¯s not the North Pole. . .¡±


    ¡°Uh! Whatever!¡±


    Quaraun momentarily glanced up from his embroidery, then continued focusing on his project.


    ¡°And you just informed me all of this, because I inquired if you celebrate Christmas?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Quaraun said.


    ¡°How?¡±


    ¡°How what?¡±


    ¡°How is Santa real? Explain that.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a talking sheep. Explain that.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m an Ursiug. I am a Welsh sheep-Demon. I¡¯m a Chaos Demon with Cotswold wool. I was born in Hell and I escaped and now I¡¯m here, stuck with you again. And Santa Claus isn¡¯t real.¡±


    ¡°Santa Claus is real. He¡¯s as real as the Easter Bunny.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I said . . . ¡± Quaraun started again.


    ¡°I heard what you said!¡± GhoulSpawn yelled. ¡°What are you even talking about? No one believes in Santa Claus. I don¡¯t even believe in Santa Claus. He¡¯s a made-up story to get children to behave. Now you are telling me the Easter Bunny is real too?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s real. Santa Claus is real. Satan is real. Krumpas is real. And the Easter Bunny is an Elf who accidentally got turned into a rabbit and is cursed to hand out chocolate coated marshmallow bunnies to all the children, one day a year, for the rest of eternity, or until I can figure out how to undo the wish he made.¡±


    ¡°Wish? You don¡¯t mean you . . . ¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I may have unintentionally made the Easter Bunny real. You see there was this Elf, who was singing some holiday song at random, something about Easter Bunnies hoping down bunny trails, and he stopped singing to announce he wished he was an Easter Bunny so he could hop down bunny trails too, and, he turned into a bunny, and . . . ¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s enough,¡± GhoulSpawn interrupted. ¡°Why do you keep doing things like that?¡±


    ¡°Like what?¡±


    ¡°Granting these hare-brained, numbskull wishes people ask for.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not like I meant to do it!¡±


    ¡°You are a terrible wizard,¡± GhoulSpawn said. ¡°How do people call YOU, of all people, the world¡¯s most powerful wizard, when you can¡¯t even grant a wish properly?¡±


    ¡°Can YOU grant wishes?¡±


    ¡°No. But I¡¯m not a Di¡¯Jinn either. How do you do things like this so often?¡±


    ¡°Well, I was a kid at the time. I didn¡¯t yet know I had a wish granting area around me. I don¡¯t do it on purpose. It just happens. Every wish I hear, my soul somehow grants it.¡±


    ¡°So, Santa Claus is real? Satan is real? Krampus is real?¡±


    ¡°Krumpas.¡±


    ¡°And now on top of that, you are telling me the Easter Bunny is not only real, but he used to be an Elf who you accidentally turned into a rabbit, because you¡¯re a Di¡¯Jiin?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°So if I want to go to the moon, all I have to do is to wish it, and you will make it happen?¡±


    ¡°Yes. But please don¡¯t wish for that. You¡¯ll end up inside the centre of the moon or something like that.¡±


    ¡°How in the heck do you expect me to believe any of this?¡±


    Quaraun shrugged. ¡°Don¡¯t know what I can say to cause you believe me.¡±


    ¡°And you find that odd?¡±


    ¡°You said Santa isn¡¯t real. That¡¯s like saying that the Easter Bunny isn¡¯t real. That¡¯s like saying that Hell isn¡¯t real.¡±


    ¡°Hell is real,¡± the cloven hooved sheep-Demon said. ¡°I should know. I was born there. I spent my childhood there. And I never want to see it again.¡±


    ¡°Did you ever believe in Santa?¡±


    ¡°I used to believe in Santa when I was a kid. . .¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you mean lamb?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Aren¡¯t kids goats?¡± Quaraun asked.


    ¡°I . . . that¡¯s . . . not . . . you know what I meant!¡±


    ¡°I thought you were a sheep?¡±


    ¡°I am a sheep!¡±


    ¡°You should let your horns grow out,¡± Quaraun said.


    ¡°I have to live with Humans,¡± GhoulSpawn protested. ¡°I have college classes to attend. I can¡¯t walk around in the twentieth century with horns on my head.¡±


    ¡°You should stay back here. No one will mind you having horns.¡±


    ¡°Are you crazy? HERE? In the late 1400s? Do you have any idea what is going to happen in a few years?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°The Salem The Witch Trials! You want me walking around New England with horns on my head, in the heart of the witch hunting craze?¡± GhoulSpawn then added sarcastically: ¡°Yes. You, me, and a few others will be enough. We will travel to Massachusetts, in the heart of the controversy, and we will ask the people there if they need our help. And I¡¯ll be there with my Demon horns being killed, along with the rest of them. No thank you!¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s The Salem The Witch Trials?¡± Quaraun asked, looking puzzled. ¡°And we are going to Labrador, not Massachusetts.¡±


    ¡°Do you even know where Massachusetts is?¡±


    ¡°Uhm . . . ¡± Quaraun paused and thought for a moment. ¡°No. Can¡¯t say as I¡¯ve ever heard of it before. Is it near here?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s . . . it¡¯s . . . it¡¯s the last place a Demon wants to be when it happens, that¡¯s what it is. Humans are going to go crazy and start massacring witches.¡±


    ¡°They already do that.¡±


    ¡°No, not like this they don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°If you let your horns grow out,¡± Quaraun went back to his previous thought. ¡°Then you and Krumpas could get together and compare horns.¡±


    ¡°Why would I? Compare . . . ? My horns? With . . . ? Krampus?¡±


    ¡°Krumpas,¡± Quaraun corrected.


    ¡°Why would I want to . . . ¡±


    ¡°BoomFuzzy has horns in his beast form, you know?¡±


    ¡°No. I didn¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s a frightful thing then. All covered in long shaggy black fur, glowing red eyes, long sharp fangs, huge black talons, and two great big pairs if horns. He¡¯s only ever let me see his beast form a few times.¡±


    ¡°Beast form? Does he have a beast form? I thought he just had a Human form and a Horse form.¡±


    ¡°His beast form is horrific,¡± Quaraun went on, paying no attention to GhoulSpawn now. ¡°But he rarely ever uses that form. In fact, I''ve seen Unicorn use the beast form. BoomFuzzy used it often. Unicorn likes his horse form the best. I make him use the Humanoid form when people are around. Most Humans just don¡¯t deal with a talking horse well. They have goat horns, don¡¯t they? Krumpas and BoomFuzzy. Are they goat horns?¡±


    ¡°How would I know? I¡¯ve never seen them,¡± GhoulSpawn answered.


    But Quaraun wasn¡¯t listening. ¡°Or are they gazelle horns? BoomFuzzy¡¯s horns are long and tall, spiral, like a gazelle or a Katopa. Poor Katopas. I didn¡¯t mean to kill them, you know?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a Katopa?¡±


    Quaraun ignored the question. ¡°If you was a sheep and not a goat, you¡¯d have big round horns on the sides of your head, wouldn¡¯t you? I¡¯ve never seen you with horns. Do you have ram horns?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Big, round ram horns if I let them grow.¡±


    ¡°Have you ever let your horns grow out?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about my horns,¡± GhoulSpawn sputtered angrily.


    GhoulSpawn glared at Quaraun. He didn¡¯t enjoy talking about his horns. GhoulSpawn kept his horns sawed off and filed down, so that no part of them could be seen under his woolly golden hair.


    GhoulSpawn went to great lengths to pass himself off as an Elf here in the past or as a Human in his correct and proper time and not let anyone know he was a sheep-man.


    Living in the 1970s when hippies and man-dresses were all the rage, it was easy for GhoulSpawn to grow his blond Afro to his waist and wear floor sweeping tie-dyed caftans with no one suspecting that his big hair might hide horns or his floor sweeping skirts might disguise his long wool covered digitigrade sheep legs, cloven hooves, and a long tail.


    GhoulSpawn felt an urge to chide Quaraun, but then continued his original train of thought. ¡°But I grew up, and I stopped believing in that nonsense.¡±


    ¡°What nonsense? Growing out your horns, like every other Demon does? You should be proud of your heritage. You¡¯re a Demon. Be a Demon. Don¡¯t hide it.¡±


    ¡°No. Santa Claus. Quaraun, you¡¯re not stupid. Stop trying to be! And I¡¯d rather not be bullied or beaten up by Humans, thank you.¡±


    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know what to say.¡±


    ¡°Well, I suppose next you¡¯ll be informing me the Elf on the Shelf is real?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s an Elf on the Shelf?¡±


    ¡°Oh good! Something that¡¯s not real.¡±


    Quaraun stabbed his needle into the slippery material, then calmly placed his gold armoured hands on his lap and stared directly at GhoulSpawn.


    ¡°Look, I told you,¡± Quaraun said. ¡°Unicorn wants to visit his cousin Krumpas and we are going to Santa¡¯s Village. We were getting ready to leave when you arrived. Had you come tomorrow, we would already have been gone.¡±


    ¡°Where did you even hear this nonsense?¡±


    ¡°From Unicorn.¡±


    ¡°Oh good! We¡¯re believing anything he says now.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m only telling you what Unicorn told me last night.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and no wonder it¡¯s crazy. Quaraun! BoomFuzzy is insane. Have you never noticed that?¡±


    ¡°No. It¡¯s probably because I was too busy being insane myself.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not insane, Quaraun.¡±


    ¡°Trying telling everyone on the planet that.¡±


    ¡°People just don¡¯t understand you.¡±


    ¡°Just like you don¡¯t understand Unicorn.¡±


    ¡°So, what exactly did BoomFuzzy say, anyways?¡±


    ¡°Unicorn spent the night complaining that he had spent his entire life fighting for the Easter Bunny. . .¡±


    ¡°The Easter Bunny?¡± Really?¡±


    ¡°. . . and the regime of the FarDarrig Chris Kringle, but suddenly the army of Santa Claus had been taken over, driven out of The North Pole by The Ghoul King.¡±This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°The Ghoul King? Who¡¯s The Ghoul King? You don¡¯t mean my father, do you?¡±


    ¡°Your father. Yes.¡± Quaraun nodded.


    ¡°My father is in on this?¡± GhoulSpawn asked. His father had been The Ghoul King, that was why he was named GhoulSpawn. His name literally ment *Spawn of the Ghoul King*.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°My father disappeared centuries ago.¡±


    ¡°Well, supposedly, he¡¯s back.¡±


    ¡°And he¡¯s trying to take over the North Pole?¡±


    ¡°Santa¡¯s Village is not in the North Pole. I keep telling you that. It¡¯s in Labrador.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± GhoulSpawn waved his hand in the air. ¡°Whatever. Tell me the rest.¡±


    ¡°Santa Claus made a deal with the Ghoul King to gain control of the North Pole. . .¡±


    ¡°So, Santa is making deals with Satan?¡±


    ¡°The Ghoul King is not Satan. He just works for Satan,¡± Quaraun pointed out. ¡°But it never went through. The Ghoul double crossed him. . .¡±


    ¡°Sounds like my father all right.¡±


    ¡°Unicorn fought not for something he loved and cared for, but for something he despised, a cause that he absolutely hated.¡±


    ¡°The Ghoul or Santa Claus?¡±


    ¡°Both, I think. But then suddenly, he found himself alone, fighting for nothing more than his freedom and survival. The Elves of the world had surrendered, now slaves, to the big red King of the North.¡±


    ¡°Elves are extinct,¡± GhoulSpawn reminded Quaraun. ¡°Except for you.¡±


    ¡°The Elves in Santa¡¯s Village are not actual Elves. They are actually Brownies, not Elves. They have more in common with Gnomes than they do us Elves, but people call them Elves, regardless.¡±


    ¡°Aren¡¯t Brownies like Pixies?¡±


    ¡°Similar.¡± Quaraun paused and picked a piece of lint from his pink silk sleeve.


    ¡°So what happened after that?¡±


    ¡°Unicorn said he was made a slave too. And so was his cousin Krumpas. He said the Christmas Elves had fought because they believed in the cause, but he did believe in it. Why had he not too? The cause they fight for was noble and just, but will the freedom of the Elves come at the cost of his life? He didn¡¯t see any reason to risk his life for them.¡±


    ¡°So, he just abandoned them, right?¡±


    ¡°I guess.¡±


    ¡°Does he ever help anybody but himself?¡±


    ¡°Santa Claus had been taking over the North Pole for years. But it had been The Ghoul¡¯s lair first, and he wanted it back. The Ghoul, being a Demon, he had centuries of time. He patiently waited for the Candy Elves to grow old and weak for his retribution.¡±


    ¡°Retribution?¡± GhoulSpawn asked.


    ¡°Retaking the North Pole,¡± Quaraun answered.


    ¡°I thought you said Santa wasn¡¯t in the North Pole?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not.¡±


    ¡°But, you just said. . .¡±


    ¡°I said, The Ghoul ruled the North Pole and Santa took it from him, but he wanted it back, so he attacked and took it back. That¡¯s why Santa today isn¡¯t at the North Pole anymore.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°The time had come. . .¡± Quaraun started to say.


    ¡°So was BoomFuzzy helping Santa or my father?¡±


    ¡°Both, I think. Near as I can tell.¡±


    ¡°Both?¡±


    ¡°He wasn¡¯t loyal to either. And just kept changing sides depending on who was winning at the time.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°Santa Claus and his naughty rag-tag army of Christmas Elves, Gnomes, Faeries, Dragons, Demons, and Candy Cane Vampires, took control the North Pole, but Santa knew that the North Pole could only remain his if he can conquer all of The Ghoul King¡¯s realms.¡±


    ¡°Conquer all of The Ghoul King¡¯s realms?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Including Hell?¡±


    ¡°Including Hell. To do this, Santa needed to take out two of his biggest competitors, the Easter Bunny and Jack Frost.¡±


    ¡°Wait, now Jack Frost is real too?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°And BoomFuzzy told you all this last night, before passing out drunk?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°And what¡¯d you do?¡±


    ¡°I just sat at my loom here quietly, right where I am right now, still, in fact. Weaving my yardages of silk and listening to the drunk Phooka. I¡¯m uncertain if what Unicorn said was true or not, considering how drunk he was last night. But I¡¯d like to find out.¡±


    ~ * o0o * ~


    ¡°Should we help Santa or fight back and help the Elves?¡± BoomFuzzy asked when he finished his story.


    ¡°Fuck Elves,¡± Quaraun said, not looking up from his work, as he began to weave a new yardage of silk for his supplies.


    ¡°Ah! I forgets. Ye is Elf what hates all other Elves. But it Christmas Eve. The Naughty Helpers are plotting raid on Candy Cane factory to steal all it sugar.¡±


    ¡°Stealing the sugar?¡±


    ¡°Aye.¡±


    ¡°How does stopping them from stealing sugar help the Elves?¡±


    ¡°Ain¡¯t about what good for Elfies. It about what good for Candy Cane Factory.¡±


    ¡°It is?¡±


    ¡°But of course. I is world greatest candy chef. Now dead and no longer remembered for me masterwork in candy creation. They making all kinds of Candy in Santa¡¯s Village. In my Candy Factory no less! I built it. That were my Candy Factory when I were alive. We need to help me cousin Krumpas to help Santa, save the Candy Factory.¡±


    ¡°Meaning it¡¯s personally important to you that we do this?¡±


    ¡°Aye.¡±


    ¡°Then we should help Santa.¡±


    ¡°Good. I guess we should go, eh?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Let¡¯s go. But, you know all of this, how?¡±


    ¡°I has letter here from Krumpas. Big black crow deliver it to me. Him want for us to come help.¡±


    BoomFuzzy held up the letter.


    ¡°And he wants us to come, even after the mess we left last time we were there?¡± Quaraun asked BoomFuzzy.


    ¡°Aye, him does.¡±


    ~ * o0o * ~


    ¡°And then this morning you arrived,¡± Quaraun went on, talking to GhoulSpawn. ¡°No one knows how. You didn¡¯t know how either.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± GhoulSpawn said. ¡°One minute I was at Rapid Ray¡¯s handing a customer a box of Choc and Fries and the next second I was falling out of a cloud and landed in front of your pink striped silk tent, where I found you sitting outside, here in the cold, freezing snow, soaking up the moonlight in you hair, and now here we are arguing over whether or not Santa Claus is real.¡±


    ¡°Well, Santa Claus is real, that I know. I¡¯ve met him before. But all this stuff about a war with the Ghoul, I don¡¯t know about. But I¡¯d like to find out what is going on, that¡¯s why I agreed to go with Unicorn.¡±


    ¡°When are you leaving?¡± GhoulSpawn asked.


    ¡°Soon as Unicorn wakes up,¡± Quaraun answered. ¡°He sleeps late.¡±


    Quaraun¡¯s tent mate, a small burly Phookan man, was snoring lightly.


    ¡°Is he asleep?¡± GhoulSpawn asked. ¡°I assumed he was passed out drunk.¡±


    ¡°Eh. Maybe.¡± Quaraun shrugged. ¡°He sleeps when he¡¯s drunk.¡±


    ¡°Is there a difference with him?¡±


    Quaraun glanced back inside the open door-flap of the pavilion at the sleeping Phooka. BoomFuzzy was laying, sprawled out naked, face down on the bed of fur pelts that was crumpled in the rear corner of the tent. ¡°I suppose not. He does, drink too much, don¡¯t he?¡±


    ¡°Too much of anything is bad.¡±


    ¡°Tell that to him when he¡¯s hungover.¡±


    ¡°You both drink too much,¡± GhoulSpawn said. GhoulSpawn didn¡¯t drink, as he was a Mormon, so he often chided Quaraun and BoomFuzzy on their excessive drinking habits. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t drink.¡±


    ¡°Ah, but it¡¯s Christmas, and we¡¯re evil master mind super villains according to pretty much everyone on the planet. We celebrate with lots of booze. Him with Rum, Wassail, and Eggnog, me with Fairy Wine.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not the right time of year to be drinking. We should be thinking about Christ¡¯s birth at Christmas.¡±


    ¡°Should we?¡±


    ¡°Do you even know anything about Christmas?¡±


    Quaraun frowned. ¡°Ah. You¡¯re a Christian. I forgot.¡±


    ¡°I am.¡± GhoulSpawn nodded. ¡°And you should know that Christ was born on December 25th.¡±


    ¡°Yes. It¡¯s the celebrate the birth of the Lich that Humans eat the flesh and drink the blood of every Sabbath day.¡±


    GhoulSpawn shrugged. ¡°You have a strange view of Christianity.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a Necromancer. What did you expect?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. But maybe you two could try to cut back on the drinking while I¡¯m here?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t used to drink.¡±


    ¡°Well, you certainly do now!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m an Elf. I don¡¯t get drunk. Well, not as drunk.¡±


    ¡°So,¡± GhoulSpawn said. ¡°Should I come with you? To Santa¡¯s Village?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see why not. It¡¯ll give you a chance to meet Santa and Krumpas both.¡±


    They were near to Santa¡¯s Village now. They were camped in a Human outpost just a few miles South, so it was only two or three days walking to reach Santa¡¯s Village and get more details of what exactly was going on.


    GhoulSpawn decided it would be best to avoid unnecessary conflict, so dropped the subject of Quaraun and BoomFuzzy¡¯s drinking problems and instead turned to the subject of Quaraun¡¯s obsession with the moon.


    Quaraun was an early riser. The sun had not yet risen, and the snow still remained untouched. It glistened like diamonds under the light of a full moon.


    The air was crisp and clean and damp after the freshly fallen snow.


    The only trace of humanity to be found was the sound of the wind blowing through bare branches and the occasional bird¡¯s call from above.


    One could never expect the sun to be out for very long this far North, this time of year. They¡¯d be lucky if they had three hours of daylight once the sun rose. But this was perfectly fine by Quaraun.


    The snow was soft and the ground not quite frozen. It would not take long to cross this vast, barren wasteland of the tundra.


    It was good to have company.


    But right now, it was a full Moon, and they were going no where for three days.


    Quaraun was a Moon Elf, and he took being a Moon Elf very seriously.


    Elves divided themselves off into clans, each clan assigned to function as the guardians of some aspect of nature. Being a Moon Elf meant that it was Quaraun¡¯s duty, or so he concluded, to act as the guardian and protector of the Moon. He translated this to mean that he had to pray to the Moon, worship the Moon, set up altars to the Moon, sing praises to the Moon, light candles each night as offerings to the Moon.


    In short, Quaraun thought being a Moon Elf meant he was supposed to worship the Moon as though she were his goddess.


    Quaraun also believed that the Moon blessed him by filling his hair with magic powers. And so on nights like these, when the full moon was high in the sky, Quaraun spent the night in front of his tent, not inside of it, letting his hair soak up the Moon¡¯s magical rays.


    Thus, too, was why Quaraun never cut his hair.


    Quaraun believed that the longer his hair grew, the more power he had.


    And thus his hair was now twelve feet long and flowed in waterfall like waves all around him.


    Because his hair was so long, Quaraun had difficulty walking without tripping over his glorious silvery-white tresses, so, most days he took to levitating and floating a few feet above the ground, instead of walking, using his hair like tentacles, slithering beneath him, to glide along instead of walking on his feet.


    Of course, his hair actually was tentacles. Very fine, hair-like tentacles. Because Quaraun was actually a female JellyFish who was passing herself off as a male Moon Elf, which was why she mixed things up so much, like how she thought Moon Elves were expected to worship the Moon. But one had to be very close to notice that his hair was not hair, or that it wriggled and moved on its own.


    With no one but Unicorn and GhoulSpawn around to see, Quaraun let his tentacles do the work his dead hands could not do. And so, long strands of his hair were busy threading needles and embroidering the pink silk, which was stretched across the loom in front of him.


    ¡°You¡¯re looking for something?¡± GhoulSpawn asked. ¡°That¡¯s why you are so far North, right?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I am,¡± Quaraun answered, still focused on his embroidery.


    ¡°I can help you find what you are seeking. If you let me, I can. . .¡±


    ¡°No, thank you. I just want you to keep my company is all.¡±


    ¡°So, Quaraun, what¡¯s the deal with not doing anything on the three days of the full moon?¡±


    ¡°I am a Moon Elf.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. I know that. But I don¡¯t know what that has to do with you sitting and staring at the moon for seventy-two hours.¡±


    ¡°I like the Moon.¡±


    ¡°I can see that.¡±


    ¡°The Moon is my Goddess. She blesses me when I take the time to reverence her.¡±


    ¡°Do you mean you worship the Moon?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Why do you worship the Moon?¡± GhoulSpawn asked. ¡°It¡¯s just a big rock floating in the sky.¡±


    ¡°Do you see any other rocks around here that can float in the sky?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Well, it must be that you don¡¯t know what a goddess is. The Moon is not a rock. She is a goddess.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think you understand how gravity works.¡±


    ¡°The Moon is our Queen. She is the Goddess of Life, Death, Eternal Peace, Sleep, Sexuality, Fertility, Wisdom, Knowledge, Magic, and Secrets. She watches over us when we sleep at night. The Moon blesses those who pay her respect.¡±


    ¡°The moon is not a she. It¡¯s a rock. You know, I don¡¯t think I ever realized before how primitive your mind was.¡±


    ¡°Do you think I¡¯m stupid?¡±


    ¡°No. I just. . . you¡¯re primitive. I don¡¯t see how that¡¯s relevant.¡±


    ¡°Primitive? How so?¡±


    ¡°Science proved the worship of astral objects to be folly, centuries ago.¡±


    ¡°Centuries ago for you, perhaps. Did you forget you are in my time now?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. I did. I keep forgetting how dark the Dark Ages really were. The Enlightenment hasn¡¯t happened yet. What you people here call science is noting but hocus pocus, mumbo jumbo. You believe weird superstitions as medical facts. Christianity is so new and unheard of that none of you even knows the basic principles of it. And you all worship objects as gods, like how you yourself worship the Moon, because you simply can¡¯t understand what the moon really is.¡±


    ¡°You are calling me stupid, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°No. I¡¯m not. In fact, you¡¯re one of the most intelligent people I¡¯ve met in this time period. You actually have some form of an education. You can at least read and write. I think ninety-nine point nine per cent of the 1400s is illiterate. I didn¡¯t realize how few people had any semblance of and education back then. Here. In your time. But even with all your advanced knowledge over everyone else back here, most grade schoolers in my time learned more than you know, by the time they are ten years old.¡±


    ¡°So you are calling me stupid.¡±


    ¡°No! I¡¯m not. I¡¯m just having a hard time getting used to how primitive your time period is compared to my time period. There¡¯s so many things you don¡¯t have. Basic every day things like toilets and kitchens or sinks or ovens or light-bulbs or TV or cars or planes or phones or. . .¡± GhoulSpawn paused for a moment. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I shouldn¡¯t be complaining. It¡¯s just I¡¯m not used to this type of lifestyle you live. I¡¯m used to living in a house in the city, surrounded by lots of people and you don¡¯t even have a house. You live in a tent, and just . . . just. . . you¡¯re a hippie.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a what?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a hippie.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°In my time. . .¡±


    ¡°1974?¡±


    ¡°Yes. It¡¯s a type of lifestyle people in my time live. They think modern science is destroying the world, so they leave the cities to deliberately be homeless, living off the land in the forests, and they refuse to drive cars because they say cars polite the planet. And they refuse to eat meat and they chain themselves to trees to prevent lumbermen from cutting them down. And they call the moon their Mother Goddess, just like you do. You¡¯re a hippie.¡±


    ¡°It that a good thing or a bad thing?¡±


    GhoulSpawn shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Neither. It¡¯s just a thing. A way of life. Why do you live like this, anyways?¡±


    ¡°I have to because I have a mission to save Humanity.¡± Quaraun said, still embroidering. ¡°And bring back the old ways. The old ways of magic.¡±


    ¡°The old ways of magic?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Summoning Spirits. Bringing Demons out of Hell to our world. . .¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re on a mission to rescue Demon from Hell and bring them to Earth to save Humanity?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°How do you plan to do that?¡±


    ¡°Invocation. Evocation. Ceremonial magic. . .¡±


    ¡°So, you mean, like, the dark arts?¡±


    ¡°If that¡¯s what you want to call it, yes.¡±


    ¡°Do you really believe in that kind of magic?¡±


    ¡°Of course. Don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure what I believe.¡±


    ¡°Believe it or not, I have magic powers of the nature I just described. And I get them from the Moon. She puts her magic in my hair every full moon. Like tonight.¡±


    ¡°Is that why you¡¯re sitting outside in the freezing cold wind and snow, instead of sitting in the tent where it¡¯s warm?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯ve never really see you do any magic. You know that, right?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s true. You haven¡¯t had you?¡±


    ¡°What are your powers like exactly?¡±


    ¡°Like? I have the power to bring rain, create wind, and change water into food. I can restore life to plants. I can see, hear, and speak to the dead. Also, I can wish for whatever I want. And apparently you show up whenever I want to have sex.¡±


    ¡°Wait. . . what?¡± GhoulSpawn¡¯s pleco-pupiled, gold eyes widened.


    ¡°I want to have sex with you. That¡¯s what I was thinking about when you fell out of the sky.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± GhoulSpawn stared at Quaraun in confused shock.


    ¡°I think I accidentally wished for you to be here, because I don¡¯t really want to go to Santa¡¯s Village. Not after the last time. I wished I had you with me, so I could have company while Unicorn and Krumpas were out destroying the town.¡±


    ¡°Why me?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have anyone else. Besides Unicorn . . . well . . . you¡¯re the only friend I have.¡±


    ¡°Oh. I . . . I didn¡¯t know that.¡±


    GhoulSpawn looked around. He did not recognize where they were, but there was snow everywhere, and it was getting stuck to his fur and icing up between the clefts of his cloven hooves.


    ¡°My feet are cold,¡± GhoulSpawn said.


    ¡°Do you have feet?¡±


    ¡°Hooves are feet.¡±


    ¡°Are they?¡±


    ¡°My hooves are cold. Happy?¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you wear shoes?¡±


    ¡°Have you ever seen shoes for sheep?¡±


    ¡°No. I suppose I haven¡¯t. Perhaps you could ask Santa Claus to make you a pair? He is a cobbler, after all.¡±


    ¡°Santa is a cobbler?¡±


    ¡°Yes. He makes shoes of all the good little boys and girls.¡±


    ¡°Santa makes shoes?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Not toys?¡±


    ¡°Toys? No, of course not. Santa makes shoes. And he fills the shoes with candy and leaves them on the front door stoops of the homes of obedient children.¡±


    ¡°And what does he do to the naughty children? Spank them and stuff coal in their socks?¡±


    ¡°Oh, no! Nothing like that.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡±


    ¡°No. He feeds them to Krumpas.¡±


    ¡°He. . . what?¡±


    ¡°Santa feeds naughty girls and boys to Krumpas.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I thought you said.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll like Krumpas. He¡¯s a Demon like you. You both have cloven hooves.¡±


    ¡°I thought Krampus. . .¡±


    ¡°Krumpas.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, whatever. I thought he was BoomFuzzy¡¯s cousin?¡±


    ¡°He is.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t BoomFuzzy a Phooka?¡±


    ¡°He is. He was.¡±


    ¡°Aren¡¯t Phookas Faeries?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but what are Faeries other than a sub type of Demons, who don¡¯t originate from Hell, like you Chaos Demons do?¡±


    ¡°I never thought of it that way. Huh. I suppose you¡¯re right. Wait. Does that make me a type of Faerie?¡±


    ¡°Weren¡¯t Ursiugs listed in that book of yours?¡±


    ¡°What book?¡±


    ¡°The one with all the nude paintings Unicorn was jerking off to.¡±


    ¡°He jerks off to everything. Is there anything he don¡¯t jerk off to? He¡¯s got a serious problem.¡±


    ¡°That book about Faeries.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Brian Froud¡¯s Faeries. Yeah. Ursiugs are in it, aren¡¯t they?¡±


    ¡°Along with Phookas. See? You Demons and Faeries are the same.¡±


    Quaraun pulled out his rainbow wand and waved it in a circle over the ground beside his chair, while whispering a few words GhoulSpawn did not understand. Instantly a campfire appeared, with a bedroll, piled with pillows and soft, fluffy fur pelts, beside it.


    ¡°Sit,¡± Quaraun said to GhoulSpawn. ¡°Take your hooves out of the snow and warm yourself. Unicorn won¡¯t wake up for a few hours yet, so we have plenty of time to soak in the moon and talk.¡±


    ¡°Talk about what?¡± GhoulSpawn asked as he settled into the pillows and wrapped up in the furs.


    ¡°Anything. I¡¯m not one for talking much, and you are. So talk about whatever you want and I¡¯ll listen. I¡¯m good at that.¡±


    GhoulSpawn talked excitedly about his high scores on Pong and PacMan and Pole Position. Then moved on to talking of other strange future things from the 1970s that Quaraun¡¯s 1400s brain had no clue how to comprehend, but it didn¡¯t matter as Quaraun enjoyed listening to GhoulSpawn talk even if he couldn¡¯t understand anything the time traveller was saying. After a while, Quaraun realized the year was different.


    ¡°1987?¡± Quaraun asked.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°You said 1987.¡±


    ¡°Yes. It¡¯s 1987 now. Or in my time. Where I¡¯m supposed to be.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re older now?¡±


    ¡°Oh. Yes. I¡¯m twenty eight now.¡±


    ¡°You were nineteen last time we saw you. And fifteen before that.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Every time we see you it¡¯s only been a few weeks for us, but for you it¡¯s always a few years.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Seems like it.¡±


    ¡°And Gremlin was ancient when we saw him. He must be a few hundred years old at least.¡±


    ¡°You said he was me from the year 2525, so yeah, I¡¯d be five hundred and fifty-five years old in 2525. I was born in 1959.¡±


    ¡°You can do math that quickly?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m good with numbers. Science is kind of my thing. I was going to college. I¡¯m taking AstroPhysics. Working towards a Ph.D. This whole portal thing got me to thinking if I could figure out how they worked, I could harness them and build a time machine, so I could come and go between your time and my time, at will, going to specific dates and places instead of just being sucked into random wormholes at random and never knowing where or when I¡¯ll pop out.¡±


    ¡°Future, you, Gremlin, has a time machine or something. I¡¯m not sure what. But he does what you just said. He goes wherever he wants to whenever he wants to. He also seems to be very intelligent.¡±


    ¡°Meaning I¡¯m not?¡±


    ¡°No. That¡¯s not what I meant. I meant he knows things. Science stuff. Big science stuff. Bigger science stuff then you know. I can¡¯t understand the things he talks about. He¡¯s got a quite a lot of education. I gathered he¡¯s been to university a lot.¡±


    ¡°Yes. I do like studying. I would expect future me still would too. But I guess I¡¯m going to miss my classes now that I¡¯m back here in the 1400s again. Exams are next week, then we are off for Christmas vacation. I¡¯m going to miss my finals.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. Should I try to send you back? I think I could wish you back to your correct time.¡±


    ¡°I thought you were the one always saying wishes were dangerous?¡±


    ¡°I am. And you¡¯re right. They are. I probably shouldn¡¯t try that. I wouldn¡¯t want to risk hurting you.¡±


    ¡°You have an education, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Than, how come you can¡¯t do math or science?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not very smart, in case you hadn¡¯t noticed. Numbers don¡¯t stick in my head. I¡¯m good at the things I do, but I¡¯m not good at much else. My brain doesn¡¯t function properly. It never did.¡±


    ¡°Does BoomFuzzy have an education?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so. I don¡¯t know.¡± Quaraun nervously tapped his foot as he spoke. ¡°He¡¯s never mentioned it. He¡¯s extremely intelligent, though. He¡¯s very smart. Very sly. Very sneaky. Gears are always turning in his brain. He¡¯s always thinking and planning and plotting. He¡¯s cunning and conniving. I wouldn¡¯t want someone with a brain like his, for any enemy. I¡¯m sure if he ever sat down long enough, he could learn quite a lot of things. He¡¯s just too hyper to focus.¡±


    ¡°He can¡¯t even read, can he?¡±


    ¡°No. . .¡± Quaraun paused. ¡°Uhm. Yeah. There is that.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°BoomFuzzy. . . before he died. He wrote a lot of books. In fact, he¡¯s the one who taught me a lot of what I know about Necromancy and Blood Magic.¡±


    ¡°But I¡¯ve seen him. He stares at a book like he can¡¯t read. He¡¯s said he can¡¯t read.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± Quaraun dropped his hand to his lap and stared at the gold armour on his fingers. ¡°He¡¯s a Phooka.¡±


    ¡°Meaning?¡±


    ¡°A Phooka can be anyone. They have this ability to see into your mind and can become the thing you most desire. They can see your memories of a dead loved one and pretend to be that person based on what they see you remembering about that person. And. . . I have no memories of BoomFuzzy being evil.¡±


    ¡°King Gwallmaiic was evil,¡± GhoulSpawn said. ¡°Everyone knows that. He was a war criminal. He killed tens of thousands with his own hands. Tortured people to death for the fun of it. Mass murdered Elves into extinction.¡±


    ¡°Well, perhaps. Maybe.¡± Quaraun¡¯s pink painted lips twitched.


    ¡°What do you mean, maybe?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know that he did those things. I mean look at the stuff people say I do. There are so many rumour about me and yet, none of it is true. I murdered my wife and children, That¡¯s true. But then because of that everyone says I¡¯m a serial killer marching across the world on a killing spree. They say I killed millions, and I didn¡¯t. So how am I supposed to believe what those exact same people say he did?¡±


    ¡°King Gwallmaiic became King by killing off all the other Kings in the Realm of Fae until he was the only King left. He ate them all. He¡¯s admitted that part.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Quaraun¡¯s voice was sadder then usual. ¡°But that was before I met him.¡±


    ¡°So?¡±


    ¡°So? It means I don¡¯t have any direct memories of him doing those things. I never saw him do that stuff.¡±


    ¡°And another Phooka could only pretend to be BoomFuzzy, but not King Gwallmaiic, because you never met King Gwallmaiic, right?¡±


    ¡°Right. When I met him, he was old and sick, he¡¯d gone blind and was in failing health.¡±


    ¡°Like Unicorn is.¡±


    ¡°Yes. The only reason his stopped killing everyone he met was because he¡¯d become disabled and could barely sit up any more. He wasn¡¯t kind to me, he was just not as evil to me as my family was.¡± Quaraun¡¯s voice was hushed. ¡°He raped me. . .¡±


    ¡°BoomFuzzy raped you? I thought you said. . .¡±


    ¡°The day we met, yes, he raped me. And then later when we met again, he. . .he didn¡¯t rape me again, but was sexually abusing me. I was too young to understand at the time. We didn¡¯t become lovers until I met him a third time, several hundred years later, and he was different then. A lot older.¡±


    ¡°The one you met later was Unicorn though, right?¡±


    ¡°Yes. And he wasn¡¯t abusive or as sex crazy. He wouldn''t rape any one. This one. That''s a big change.  It was one of the first things I noticed about Unicorn, and it made me not believe he was BoomFuzzy, right from the beginning.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯ve always suspected Unicorn wasn¡¯t actually BoomFuzzy?¡±


    ¡°Always. Unicorn is gentle. Well, gentler. And BoomFuzzy was very abusive, but he didn¡¯t kill me like he did the other Elves before me, because he was just too old and too sick. He was at a point where he needed someone to take care of him, and I did, and he kept me around because he knew no one else would have helped him. He didn¡¯t love me. I knew that. I wanted him to love me. I thought I could make him love me. I don¡¯t think he could ever love anybody. He was so full of hate. But, you see, I never knew him when he was the war lord killing people. I never knew him as a murderer. So I don¡¯t remember him that way. I didn¡¯t know him as a king. I have no memories of his war crimes or his kingdoms. I only remember the elderly, blind candy chef who nursed me back to health when my village tried to kill me and left me for dead.¡±


    ¡°So, what are you saying this? I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°BoomFuzzy, King Gwallmaiic was a Phooka.¡± Quaraun paused. His lower lip trembled. ¡°But all Phookas can mesmerize and glimmer. They can all see your thoughts. Your memories. It¡¯s almost impossible to tell the real person from the Phooka pretending to be them.¡±


    ¡°And I suppose its worse when it¡¯s a Phooka pretending to be another Phooka, right?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. But you can tell. When a Phooka takes on the identity of a dead lover, they don¡¯t have the memories of the dead lover, so they make mistakes."


    "But he''s a Lich. Liches are incredibly rare. What are the chances of two Phookas becoming Liches."


    "A powerful old Phooka could fake being a Lich."


    "Really?"


    "Yeah. I''ve seen it before."


    "So you have no way of knowing if Unicorn is really BoomFuzzy or not, because he''s a Phooka?"


    "Phookas only have your memories of the lover. They don¡¯t have the dead person¡¯s actual memories.¡±


    ¡°So, different from Thullids?¡±


    ¡°Thullids attach to your brain and live in your skull for years, studying your thought patterns and absorbing your memories. They actually become you. Eat your brain. Wear your body like a coat.¡±


    ¡°And with Phooka¡¯s it¡¯s just illusion magic?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Quaraun¡¯s words were low but deliberate and distinct. ¡°They become the person you remember, but are never fully able to fully replace your dead lover because they didn¡¯t know the dead lover or the dead lover¡¯s thoughts, they only have your memories of the lover to build on. Unicorn, can¡¯t read or write, but BoomFuzzy, my lover who commit suicide, he was well educated. He¡¯d gone to a lot of colleges and universities. He read books all the time. He had a huge library in the back of the gingerbread house and he wrote a lot of books. I have his books. I still have all of his diaries and . . . he knew how to read.¡±


    Quaraun fell silent and sat staring blankly at his crippled hands.


    ¡°BoomFuzzy made me these,¡± Quaraun said, holding up his hands and indicating the gold finger plates. ¡°My hands were crushed under the wagon wheels. They tied my hands down and then drove the horses and wagons over my hands, over and over again. Then they ran my hands through the mill wheel, between the mill stones. The bones were crushed.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why you never take off the gauntlets?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Quaraun said mournfully. ¡°Pulverized.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t do it.¡±


    ¡°You should go back with me, to my time. We have doctors there. They could probably do something to fix your hands.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing left. My hands are dead.¡±


    ¡°But there¡¯s a doctor in my time, Vangonese. He works miracles. I bet he could fix your hands so you could use them again. He does stuff like that.¡±


    ¡°BoomFuzzy was a very powerful mage,¡± Quaraun went on, not paying attention to what GhoulSpawn was saying. ¡°He made these gold finger plates for me. They are enchanted. I can control them with my thoughts and make my metal hands work like real hands. Without these, my hands are dead and useless. They do not function. I don¡¯t know how he made them. He could do things with magic, that I don¡¯t think anyone else knew how to do.¡±


    Quaraun paused and stared at the sleeping Phooka, then turned back to GhoulSpawn.


    ¡°It¡¯s why I call him Unicorn and not BoomFuzzy. Unicorn can¡¯t read. Unicorn can¡¯t write. Unicorn . . . I don¡¯t think he could make magic items like this.¡± Quaraun held up his gold hands. ¡°Unicorn¡¯s not evil. I don¡¯t think he would have it in him to slaughter women and children just for the fun of it. He looks like BoomFuzzy and on the surface he acts a lot like BoomFuzzy, but he only looks and acts like how I remember BoomFuzzy and he . . . he doesn¡¯t have memories of being a war criminal. In fact, he out right says he wasn¡¯t.¡±


    GhoulSpawn sat silent for a moment before speaking. ¡°You mean, Unicorn¡¯s not really, BoomFuzzy, is he?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s BoomFuzzy now. Or some version of him.¡±


    ¡°Quaraun? What would happen if it turned out Unicorn wasn¡¯t the real BoomFuzzy, and you found the real BoomFuzzy, King Gwallmaiic?¡±


    ¡°I. . . I don¡¯t know.¡± Tears filled Quaraun¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°Would you want the real BoomFuzzy still?¡±


    ¡°I think . . . I would want them both. But BoomFuzzy, the one who died. . . he was mean. Really mean. Evil. Cold. Cruel. Bitter. Jealous. Vengeful.¡±


    ¡°And Unicorn¡¯s not like that, is he?¡±


    ¡°No. He¡¯s predatory, aggressive, like all Phookas are. But. . . he¡¯s not . . . evil. If Unicorn was a fake BoomFuzzy, the real BoomFuzzy wouldn¡¯t think twice about killing him. That scares me. I don¡¯t want to think about it. I think. . . it¡¯s been so long since BoomFuzzy died. I think I love Unicorn more and. . .¡±


    ¡°And he might not be the real BoomFuzzy?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know that might have been a possibility.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Quaraun choked back the tears. ¡°I just. . . try. . . try to ignore it. I love him. Be he the real BoomFuzzy or not. I love this one now, even if he¡¯s not the original one. I love Unicorn more than I loved BoomFuzzy.¡±


    ~o0o~