Enigmatic Fantasies - The Moth Investigation [#210]

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           “Aren’t you two a little old to be doing this scooby gang investigation thing?” The homeowner asked the pair. The three adults stood in front of an average suburban home on a quiet afternoon.

           “No,” the woman smiled. She had to be in her 30s, yet she was dressed like she was in her early 20s. Her sweater and fuzzy pants combo looked like it might have been fashionable twenty years ago. But now, it made her look like she was trying too hard.

           “Yes,” the man replied bluntly. His wool cap and fleece jacket were well worn and fairly dirty. It made him look street smart in the sense he literally appeared as though he wandered off an inner-city street. His affirmative reply earned him a pout from his female companion.

           “In any case,” the woman shifted back to her smile, “we heard you have a Mothman in your attic?”

           “Yeah,” the homeowner nodded. His uncertainty in the duo was clear as day, and he made no attempts to hide it. “It’s been giving me evil looks every time I try to go back up there. My record collection and my winter clothes are up there, and I don’t want it destroying them. And before you ask, mothballs don’t work.”

           “Leave it to us,” the sweater woman puffed out her chest. “Your record collection is in safe hands.” She marched into the house without even waiting for the homeowner’s permission. Leaving them agape at her sheer audacity.

           “She does that sometimes,” the cap-wearing man sighed. “Give her 30 seconds. She’ll be back.”

           On cue, literally half a minute later, the woman returned with a question, “Which way to your attic?”

~--~

           “I can’t believe you got lost in someone’s house again,” the cap-wearing man stated.

           “Its layout is confusing,” the sweater woman defended herself.

           “The stairs were right there in the front,” the man pointed out.

           “Huff,” the woman pouted again but dropped the subject as they ascended into the attic. It was a simple one-room attic. The ceiling was curved to match the roof directly above, and insulation lining every wall. Stacks of boxes lined the dusty wooden floor, mostly records, trinkets, and seasonal items like snow shovels and beach chairs. However, in the far corner was a chewed open box of winter clothing. A partially eaten sweater dangled out over the cardboard.

           “Well, at least we’ll save the records,” the cap man commented as he flicked the nearby light switch. Sadly, the small light above did not turn on. A quick glance revealed the wires had been chewed as well.

           “That’s one ravenous moth,” the woman stated as she pulled out a flashlight. “Let’s see how big he is,” she ignited her light source. Alas, the attic appeared empty save for the two of them. It was dead quiet, save for the sound of the wind outside. “No Mothman?” The sweater woman whined.

           “No Mothman, but,” the cap man pointed straight ahead. Hovering in the light was a single moth. It was a totally normal moth, albeit a huge one. Its wingspan easily surpassed 30 centimeters, making it a record-setting size. However, it was still just a regular moth.

           “Wow, that’s big, but not quite a Mothman. Does that guy need glasses or something?” The woman wondered.

           “Begone from my lair, or face my wrath,” a booming voice echoed through the room. The duo looked around for the source but could find no mouth speaking the words. “Over here, you nitwits.”

           “The moth?” The sweater woman pointed the flashlight at the moth again.

           “Not the moth,” the voice replied, “Me!” The Mothman emerged from underneath the light, starting the pair. Two bright-red eyes on the insect-like body stared dagger at the duo.

           “That’s a cool trick, do it again,” the woman exclaimed.

           “What a rip,” the cap man sighed and stepped forward.

           “Be gone humans, I said go away!” The Mothman exclaimed.

           “Yeah, no,” the man waved his hand through the creature, revealing it to be nothing more than an illusion. “Get the butterfly net.”

           “Oh, boy!” The woman pulled out a net and an insect cage.

           “No, stay away,” the Mothman continued to scream. At the same time, the moth itself tried to flutter away, only to be caught in the net immediately.

~--~

           “Found your Mothman,” the woman showed the homeowner the captured insect. The moth relentlessly flew around the cage, looking for an escape but found none.

           “That’s not what I saw,” the homeowner replied.

           “Must have been a trick of the light,” the cap man explained. “That’s probably the biggest moth anyone has ever seen, so it’s understandable.”

           “But it spoke to me and yelled at me,” the homeowner exclaimed.

           “It’s all in your head,” the woman assured as she left and her partner with the insect in tow.        

           “So what do we do with the magic moth?” The cap man asked as they walked onto the street.

         “I dunno, release him in the wood or something?” The woman shrugged. “It wouldn’t feel right to keep him.”

           “The woods? That is not fit for my domain. I demand more wool!” The moth exclaimed.

           “Keep that up, and we’ll have you framed,” the cap man threatened.

           “I’ll be good,” the moth squeaked.

~~~~ 

I got no pseudo-philosphy this time, I just had a silly idea and I wrote it. Also, I don't know for certain if 30 centimeters would be a world record size for moths. Everything I found online about the world's largest moths was that they were just under 30 centimeters in size, but I couldn't find anything talking about a specific largest moth (but that's what 5 minutes of research gets you).

Until next time, Read, Comment and Enjoy 

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Strange Sci-fi Tales - Alone at Last [#209]

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           Jeffery just wanted to be left alone, to his own devices. In the vast emptiness of space, one would think that would be easy. Alas, that was not the case. Jeffery thought his career choice as a communications expert, managing intergalactic transmissions, would lead to a quiet life. He hoped to be put on monitor duty on a quiet space station in the corner of some no-name galaxy. Yet, that never was the case.

           Every job he was assigned to by his superior put him on some crowded spaceship with rowdy crewmates. No matter how much Jeffery urged or insisted, he'd always be put on that exact same setup every year. Whenever he was given the privilege to work on a small space station on his own, within a month, he'd be shoved back on another ship. Apparently, someone thought he liked working on teams. Jeffery wished he knew who so he could punch their lights out.

           That led Jeffery to his current job. After a blissful two months working at a communication hub in one of the least populous sectors of space, a 'friend' of his recommended him for a new position. It was a standard communication officer post on a small research and exploration vessel. Jeffery would have refused except said 'friend' had already applied and accepted the job for him.

           Without being able to even speak his own opinion, Jeffery was strong-armed into joining the crew and forced back into his discomfort zone. The job was only supposed to last a couple months, so Jeffery told himself to wait it out. Then the first thing he'd do when he got back was sign a ten-year contract to work on the communication hub. However, he quickly realized it wouldn't be so easy.        

           "Captain's orders, get on it now!" On only the second day, the captain was barking at the vessel's doctor. Jeffery didn't know why they were fighting, just that it was over something petty.

           "What if I don't feel like wasting my time with your frivolous BS," the doctor snapped. Jeffery noticed the two men puffing out their chests and left the area before a fight broke out. Sadly, these interactions became a common pattern. Everyone on the ship got along like cats and dogs, and fights broke out with alarming regularity. Jeffery began to wonder if his 'friend' actually hated him.

           A month in, and Jeffery was at wit's end. He found himself confined to his quarters or workstation at all hours. He didn't eat meals with his crew or even interact with them for fear of getting in a fight. His plan seemed to work, as no one on the crew ever fought with him. But, in the few times he ventured out into the ship's halls, there was always a fight in progress. Jeffery knew it was only a matter of time.

           Then came the mistake. The navigator and the captain got in the worst fight the crew had ever seen. Fists were thrown, words that dug deep were said, and nerves were left raw. Both men were encouraged by the rest of the crew to return to their quarters and cool off. Sadly, both men took this as an opportunity to refuse to do their jobs, likely to spite one another.

           The next thing everyone knew, they made a couple of wrong lightspeed jumps and were way off course. The navigator, who hadn't looked at a map since the fight with the captain, had no idea where they were. The engineer and pilot, who were responsible for the jumps, had all the blame shoved on them. The two were obviously furious they were blamed but held their tongues. They likely hoped their silence would make the navigator and captain actually do their jobs again.

           Jeffery noted the engineer took it a lot harder and was far angrier over the whole ordeal. Which confused Jeffery all the more when they found said engineer dead the next day. The captain ruled it as an accident. Officially the engineer was upset and not paying attention, which led him to fumble with a heavy tool chest that fell on his head. Jeffery never bothered to check the validity of that claim. The rest of the crew got into a massive fight over the situation immediately, and he slipped out to avoid the fisticuffs.  

           Jeffery didn't emerge from his quarters until the next day, only to learn the captain and doctor had gotten into their worst fight yet. It ended with fists flying and the doctor's head hitting the ground just right that he died. This, in turn, sparked a fight between the captain and navigator. The latter believing the doctor's accidental death was too convenient sounding, only the replicate the incident leaving the navigator dead as well.

           At this point, Jeffery was beyond done. He wasn't about to get himself killed in the dinky ship with his crazy crewmates. He snatched one of the engineer's wrenches and locked himself in his quarters. The communication's officer prayed this whole thing would blow over, or at least that he'd escape with his parts intact.

           Days passed, and Jeffery quickly found himself without food or water. He needed to make a food run. The man could only hope the captain or another of the crew members hadn't gorged themselves while he had remained hidden. With hesitant steps, he moved towards the dining area, wrench in hand, occasionally spotting the dead bodies of his crewmates. Finally, he arrived at the dining room door, only to hear a gunshot inside.

           Against his better judgment, Jeffery peeked inside to find the captain, smoking gun in his hands, having just shot the pilot. The captain was shaking, looking ready to vomit, before collapsing onto a nearby chair.

           "I didn't mean to. It wasn't supposed to end like this," the captain claimed.

           "I see," Jeffery nodded as he stepped towards his captain. 

          "I just wanted to be a good captain, a successful captain, but all I did was fight with my crew," he continued. "I killed them, I killed them all, but it was an accident, I swear."    

           "I understand," Jeffery assured, his eyes never moving from the gun still clutched in the captain's hand. "It's not your fault," Jeffery stated as he bashed the back of the captain's head with the wrench, "but I'm not taking any chances." The communications officer wasn't proud of his own action, but he also didn't feel like taking the chance. The captain was not in his right mind and still held onto the murder weapon for dear life.

           With the captain's passing, Jeffery noted how quiet the ship was. All that remained was the idle hum of the engine as the vessel drifted on autopilot. Jeffery realized he was now and truly alone, but he wasn't happy about it. This wasn't what he wanted. This was just sick. With little else to do, the communications officer picked up the remaining food and isolated himself at this workstation. Maybe he could contact a nearby ship or space station for rescue, but he had no idea if any were nearby.

           As Jeffery settled in for the long wait, he wondered if he'd ever get home. Would he die here, drifting alone in space? If not, does he even want to make it back? Returning with a ship full of dead bodies wasn't the best look. In the end, Jeffery shrugged off these questions. Whatever the answer, it was out of his hands. Now all he could do was try to enjoy the solitude.

~~~~ 

Sometimes you just want to be left alone on your own terms, sadly you don't always have a choice in the matter.

Until next time, Read, Comment and Enjoy 

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Eclectic Narratives - Under the Rain [#208]

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           The heavy rain drenched the empty alley, the storm clouds above left the night sky pitch black. Lights and sounds from a nearby road were all that illuminated the area. A girl collapsed on her knees huddled up to the alley's wall, in the driest spot she could find. Her long black hair and pure white uniform were soaking wet. Her face was flushed, and her breathing was haggard.

           "Where am I?" She muttered aloud. "How did I get here?" She asked no one in particular. Her legs were sore, and exhaustion had set in, yet she did not know why. Hazy memories of running trailed across her mind, but she could recall no details beyond that. "Did I pass out?" The girl wondered as she stood up, "no, that can't be. I was just running, I can tell." It was inexplicable, but she was sure that was the case. It wasn't that she had blacked out. Her memory simply stopped.

           "Was I chased? Am I still in danger?" Panic set in as she glanced all around. Yet, the feeling quickly faded as she realized where she was. No persuaders lurked around the corner, nor were there any sketchy figures nearby. In fact, the alley was quite clean, just wet from the rain. A quick glance towards the lights nearby revealed she was actually in a very affluent part of town. Signs of offices, businesses, and labs dotted the buildings nearby. The people walking by looked posh at best and business-like at the worst.

           "This doesn't make any sense," the girl looked at herself. The uniform seemed quite nice, despite being wet and a little dirty. She must not have been out here for more than thirty minutes. An emblem, likely for a fancy private school, was proudly displayed on her chest. Sadly, her pockets were empty, no wallet or ids to be found.

           "Did I go to this school?" She considered. The emblem looked vaguely familiar, but that's about it—no images of a school building, nor teachers or classmates. Blurred memories of public schools came to her mind. But, they were nothing more than basic images, colors, and sounds.

           "Was I drugged?" The girl felt a new tingle of panic in her chest. "I don't feel like I was, but how would I know?" At this thought, she notices just how uncomfortable her body felt like she was a stranger in her own skin. She could not trace the root of why she felt this way. The girl couldn't tell whether or not something was changed or she was violated in some way.          

           "Nothing makes sense. Why can't I remember?" She wandered out of the alley in search of answers. She didn't know where she was going. In fact, she barely knew what she was doing. Her mind was so clouded she couldn't keep track of her own movements. This wasn't a problem until she felt herself trip over a curb and into running traffic. On reflex, she prepared to scream until a hand grabbed her collar and yanked her back onto the sidewalk. The girl looked up to see a woman, a police officer, with a concerned look. She had no time to process this scene as she felt a wave of darkness consume her vision, and the girl finally passed out.

~--~

           "This makes no sense," the officer said to herself as she sat at her desk and looked over the report on the mystery girl. A girl with no memories, wearing the uniform to a private school that was 100 miles away, wakes up in an alley and wanders into traffic. No id, no record of her face or fingerprints anywhere. Even the school had no idea who she was.

           "It just makes me mad," the officer recalled difficulties with the hospital.

           She tried to get the mystery girl checked into a local hospital to receive medical care, but they refused. The only reason given was that "she's perfectly healthy, and there's nothing more we need to do for her." The police were forced to provide the necessary medical care themselves. They did manage to run some tests and confirmed the girl had been drugged. Painkillers mostly, but nothing extreme or illegal.    

           "I don't like this one bit," the officer furrowed her brow. Her instincts flared up, assuring her something was rotten. But, no evidence or even a thread of logic had presented itself for her to follow. "I need to get to the bottom of this quick if I want answers," the officer affirmed to herself. But, she soon realized she was no longer in her office and had wandered into the hallway.

           "That's strange. This case must be really getting to me," the officer shrugged off the memory lapse. However, as she returned to her office, she couldn't help but note how fuzzy her head felt.

~~~~ 

If you can't remember what just happened, then you should be concerned, because that means either you shouldn't remember or you really should.

Until next time, Read, Comment and Enjoy 

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Eclectic Narratives - Ol' Game Shop [#207]

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           Ol’ Game Shop was a moderately popular sight in town, at least with kids. It was a small building that sat on a sleepy corner in the quietest part of town. There was only a single member of staff, Ms. Alice, the owner. The town’s handful of game-loving kids flocked to the place to play uninterrupted. It wasn’t much, it wasn’t fancy, but it was enough for the kids to enjoy themselves, and that’s what mattered to Ms. Alice.

           It was an average afternoon in the humble little shop. Alice watched a handful of kids play a popular trading card game on the big table upfront. The middle-aged woman sat behind the counter with a cheery smile. The shop had done well today, and the kids were having fun. Everything was as it should be in her eyes.

           The front door to the shop opened, with the usual jingle of a bell, in stepped a kid a few years older than the ones playing at the table. He sported a ripped black shirt, worn jeans, and a large bag over his shoulder. The four kids froze when they saw the boy enter.

           Alice watched the scene with curiosity. She hadn’t seen this boy come in often, but something about his description felt familiar. The woman had vague memories of him casing some kind of trouble before, but nothing specific came to mind. She swiped a lock of blonde hair out her eyes as she eyed the boy while he approached the table. The other four kids gave him a wide berth, even as he sat down.

           “You playing? I’m game for a couple rounds,” the boy smiled. The others laughed nervously, but one brave soul among them accepted his challenge.

           ‘Seem fine,’ Alice shrugged. ‘I guess they were just afraid of an older kid.’ The blonde turned away from the game to tidy up the shelves behind her. After tens of minutes ticked by, she turned back to observe the game in progress. The older boy was winning, quite handily in fact. Not a surprising outcome, he likely had a more solid grasp of the game.

           As Alice observed the game more closely, she felt her body tense while the back of her spine tingled. The younger boy looked distraught over losing, but not in the usual way Alice saw. Usually, the kids would get sad, angry, or generally upset. Yet, this one looked so panicked he was trembling.

           ‘Did I miss something?’ Alice wondered before briefly looking away to finish dusting a corner. The next time she looked back, the game had ended, and the younger boy looked crushed. He stood up from the table and walked away, while the older boy slouched back in his chair with a wide grin. ‘Did he just come here for easy wins against little kids?’ The blonde sighed. She hoped the boy would leave so the others could resume having fun.

           Hours passed, as afternoon turned to evening, which meant closing time approached. The older boy had stayed and defeated the other three kids in turn. A few more younger kids and even one the older boy’s age had stopped by. Few of them lingered after they saw the older boy. Most just bought something and left. A couple were roped into a game with him, and each of them left with the same forlorn look.

           With closing time only ten minutes away, Alice prepared to lock up the shop. The older boy sat at the table, giddy over something as he packed up his bag. The younger kids trickled out, except for the young boy who was the first to lose. He waddled up to the counter, scrounging through his pocket for loose change.

           “Ms. Alice, do you have any more of those cheap card packs from earlier,” the boy asked nervously.

           “Of course I do,” Alice pulled out a wrapped pack of cards from behind the counter. She had packed them herself by hand. The blonde had sneaked a few rare cards in them for some of the younger kids as a treat. Alice remembered giving one such pack to the boy earlier. He was so excited with his find that he put it in a unique sleeve Alice gave him. “Not happy with what you got earlier?” Alice asked.

           “No, I liked it, it’s just... It’s nothing,” the boy bit his tongue while glancing at the older boy in the corner.

           “What happened?” Alice leaned down, her tone shifting from warm and motherly to deadly serious.

           “Nothing,” the boy shivered.       

           “You can tell me. I promise you won’t get in trouble,” the blonde assured.

           “He...he,” the young boy began, “he took my card. Halfway through our game, he made me bet the card you gave me earlier, and I lost. He did that with everyone today. He told us only babies complain about it.”

           “Did he really?” Alice nodded. No wonder the boy seemed familiar. She had heard a few parents complain about a boy matching his description doing the same. “Don’t you worry, take this one on the house,” she whispered. “I’ll have a talk with him.”

           “Okay,” the young boy eagerly accepted the pack and quickly left the shop. All that remained now was the older boy, who was taking his time packing his bag. Alice assumed he was still counting his “winnings.”

           “It’s closing time,” Alice announced.

           “Yeah, yeah, I’m going, give me a minute,” the boy did not hurry his pace one bit.

           “Hmm,” Alice glared at the boy. She thought for a moment, and as an idea popped in her head, a smile spread along her face. “Hey, do you want to know a little secret?”

           “What’re you going on about, lady?” The torn-shirt boy grumbled.

           “It’s nothing, I heard you liked rare cards, and I just happened to have a few spare in back,” Alice claimed.

           “No foolin’? Then show me,” the boy’s interest was piqued.

           “Follow me,” Alice opened the door to the backroom and welcomed the boy, and more importantly, his bag, inside.

           “You weren’t kidding,” the boy’s eyes lit up as he saw Alice’s display of valuable cards in the back. The middle-aged woman was quite the collector herself and huffed her chest with pride. “I haven’t even heard of some of these cards,” the torn-shirt boy examined the collection as he dropped his bag.

           “I’ve run this shop for a long time,” Alice explained as she picked up the bag and set it aside on a table. “I’d be willing to part with some of them for a good trade.”

           “I got plenty to trade,” the boy ran up to his bag and pulled out a decent collection of cards, each contained in miss-matched sleeves. Some of which were very familiar to Alice.

           “Oh no, I don’t accept stolen cards, boy,” Alice’s smile faded.

           “What’re you talkin’ about?” The boy snapped.

           “I know what you’ve been doing. I don’t take kindly to thieves in my shop,” Alice stated as she picked a specific card off the table. “I know you took this one from one of the younger boys earlier. I gave it to him, I’d recognize this special sleeve it’s in anywhere.”

           “I won it fair and square,” the boy declared.

           “Oh, is that how you want to play it? How about this then?” Alice’s smiled returned, but it lacked all the warmth and affection it had before. “We’ll play a round. If I win, you give me those cards. If you win, I give you anything out of this collection you want.”

           “Deal,” the boy agreed. The two sat down at a table in the back and shuffled up their decks to play a round of the trading card game. There was little to say on the game’s contents, as Alice defeated the boy in a single turn. “You cheated,” the boy accused.

           “I did no such thing,” Alice took the boy’s bag and emptied all the cards it contained into a box for safekeeping. “You can try again if you like, but only if you have something else to bet. I’m feeling generous, though. If you can win this time, I’ll give you my collection and all the stuff you stole. If I win, you’ll pay the price for theft, understood?”

           “Sure whatever,” the boy’s eyes lit up with energy. They sat down for another game, which lasted much longer than the first. Alice took an early lead, but the boy managed to hold on. Turn by turn passed as the two chipped away at each other. Whenever Alice seemed to have the game in hand, the boy came back with the perfect counter. On the fifth time this occurred, Alice grew suspicious and watched the boy much more closely.

           “How about this then?” Alice played a fairly straightforward turn. She was in a position to win, but as she prepared to play her winning card, she spotted the torn-shirt boy shuffle his cards suspiciously. “Don’t cheat again, or face the consequences.”

           “You’re full of it, lady,” the boy stuck his tongue out and slammed down another perfect response.

           “No wonder you beat those boys so easily if you’re cheating so often,” Alice laughed as she countered with her own perfect response.

           “What, no?” The boy was taken aback. “Wait, I got something for that,” he reshuffled his cards before pulling out an ideal counter yet again.

           “I warned you not to cheat again,” the blonde woman glared.

           “I don’t know what you’re -,” the boy started before his cards slipped from his hands, along with a few others. Spilling from the torn holes in his shirt were a selection of useful, if situational cards. Much like the ones he’d been playing all game. “How’d that happen?” The boy froze.

           “I warned you there’d be consequences,” Alice tapped the table with her nail. The torn-shirt boy felt a shiver go up his spine.

           “This is stupid, I’m out of here,” the boy jumped up from the table and ran for the door. His escape failed when he realized it was locked. “Hey, what’s the big idea? When did you lock this?”

           “I warned you there’d be a penalty for cheating,” Alice didn’t even look up from the game. “But the price for losing is far worse, so you’d better sit back down.” The middle-aged woman placed down one last card, one that would secure her win despite the boy’s cheating.    

           “I don’t get you, lady,” the boy ran for another exit. Yet, each one he tried was a dud. The other doors were tightly locked. The pitch-black windows were sealed shut. Even when the boy picked up a nearby phone in desperation, the line was dead.

           “I win, boy, it’s time to face your penalty,” Alice stood up from the table.

           “What’s wrong with you?” The boy cowered in the corner.

           “I can’t tolerate thieves and cheaters in my store,” Alice replied. “Lessons must be learned,” the blonde’s smile made the boy’s heart stop, “penalties must be paid.” The torn-shirt boy wanted to scream and cry for help, but he felt so short of breath; he couldn’t even gather the air in his lungs. He stared on in silence as Alice approached him with unknown intent.

~--~

           The next day, the young boys returned for another few rounds of the trading card game. They tensed up every time the door opened and sighed with relief when they didn’t see the torn-shirt boy. As the afternoon marched on, Alice decided to surprise the kids with a little surprise.

           “I believe these belong to you,” Alice returned the stolen cards to the kids.

           “How’d you get these?” The young boy from yesterday asked, his eyes alight with pure joy.

           “I gave that older boy a stern talking to, he’s learned his lesson,” Alice’s smile was filled with warmth again. “He won’t be back anytime soon.”

           “Thank you,” the kids said in unison before returning to their game with glee. Her job done, Alice returned to the backroom to tidy up while the kids played.

           “Oops, I forgot to put this away,” Alice spotted a familiar bag on the table. She grabbed it by the strap and carried it to the far side of the back. The blonde popped open a cabinet. Inside was a collection of discard bags, backpacks, and packs, some far older than others. She deposited the new bag inside. “There, now to see what else I can surprise the kids with today.” Alice left the room. The boy’s whimper from last night still rang clearly in her mind.

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In games, theft and cheating are the highest crimes. Expect to pay dearly for it, especially if you're bad at hiding it.

Until next time, Read, Comment and Enjoy 

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