Post by Emma on Oct 10, 2015 19:34:54 GMT -5
Hello! I'm new and I don't have much idea what I'm doing here, so please forgive me if I do this wrong. Looking at most of the threads here, people tend to post in full anything they're looking for a critique on, so here goes!
This is a short story I wrote for the Halloween Issue (yes, I leave everything to the very last minute - it's a problem in life) - would anyone be able to give some feedback on it? I don't quite know where to pitch scary stories. I don't want them to be too much for the Times' younger audience, but at the same time a completely non threatening Halloween story doesn't seem right. I'm a bit worried about getting that balance right in this!
Hey. Hey, you. Over here.
Sit, sit. You want a drink? Of course you want a drink. Why else would you come to a place like this? Don't be so suspicious. It's grog. Fruitmallow, if you're being particular. You can't tell me you came to Krawk Island and didn't ever have no grog.
Oh please, don't look so nervous. I just want to tell you a story, you know? These folks, none of them are interested. None of them want to listen. Think they're more important than that. But you, you'll give an old Zafara a few minutes of your time, eh? Sit back down laddie. Night's young. Plenty of time yet.
I said, sit.
Now. Picture this. It's halloween. It's dark. Group of us, two mates, someone's kid brother, and me, makin' our way down to the Forgotten Shore. We had a plan, see? Dig it up. Take the lot. We had enough of one chance a day, elbow to elbow with the whole of neopia and all them nosy busybodies makin' sure you don't dig a second shot. Forgotten Shore? Pah. Ain't nothing forgotten about it.
But Halloween, all the pets are out trick or treating. Sheets with eye holes and pumpkin candy-buckets, the whole package. Ain't nobody down by the shore on Halloween.
Ain't nobody there. We had a plan, and the plan said ain't nobody there.
Not on Halloween, see.
The trek down to beach was treacherous in the dark. The sand shifted constantly over the dunes, barely kept in place by the whip-thin reeds that lined the bay. Jagged rocks edged in, lying in wait beneath the thin sand like hungry teeth. One misstep and you're tumbling down. You hit the beach if you're lucky, if not - well. You think this shore would be forgotten if the seas were easy? The kraken's the friendliest thing out there
During the day, the beach thronged with pets. Baby pets, elderly pets; faerie pets and grim mutants from the depth of the haunted woods. Everyone wanted a shot at the fabled treasure. They made a steady procession, a living, jabbering stream of bodies swarming over the dunes. You fought your way through the crowd, staked out a patch of dirty sand, and dug. If you had a spade, great. If not, you used your paws, claws, wings. Whatever you had. And if you struck gold, you grabbed it, fought for it, booted aside the greedy hands that crept towards it. Made sure that no one else could take it before you stuffed the coins down your shirt or dragged the chest out of the scrabbling mob.
We're from Krawk Island, sonny boy. We don't play nice when there's loot to be had.
But at night? The sand glinted white in the moonlight, smooth and pristine under swirling tendrils of fog. The winds and shifting tide had wiped the slate clean. All that was left to show of the day before were a few mounded clumps of sand. The odd discarded spade. An opened treasure chest with nothing inside but salt on the hinges. At that moment, the air was still, and even the wssshh-shunk of the waves on the sand seemed muted.
"Creepy, innit," the Krawk grunted.
"Go home if you're scared," the Kyrii in front of him snapped. "Don't need wimps slowing us down."
The Krawk rumbled, a deep, guttural sound echoing out of his barrel chest. "Come again, midget?"
"I said - "
"Shut it," I spat at the both of them. "Jax, put your teeth away. We ain't impressed."
Jax held his snarl for a moment longer, scaly lips pulled back over curved fangs and his yellow eyes narrowed in contempt. He snorted, and turned back to the beach.
"He's right though," the final member of the group piped up. "It's just a touch desolate without all the pets, isn't it? Just imagine what it would have been like to be among the first ones to find it, back when they put the map together. Climbing over the top of the dunes and it was just there, miles and miles of untouched beach just waiting to be explored." He bobbed his head, eyes shining. "Just think!"
"No one cares, Kid." The Kyrii shoved his younger brother forward a step and positioned himself more firmly between the small Wocky and the hulking figure of Jax.
"Don't call me Kid," the Wocky grumbled. He kept it quiet, under his breath, but not quiet enough. Clearly, self preservation didn't run in the family.
The Kyrii darted a nervous glance over at Jax. "So, Boss," he said, turning to me. "We going to start digging, or what?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Dig by the dunes? Go on then, if you want." He bristled at that, the crest of his mane spiking up slightly as he fought for a grip on his temper. I smirked. "The rest of us won't be wasting our time." I resettled the canvas sack over my shoulder and strode off down the beach, tendrils of fog parting and reforming around my ankles with every step. The heavy, lumbering footfalls told me that Jax was following.
You don't come across many like Jax these days. He's a hulking, looming mass of scar tissue and muscle. Stained bandana pulled down low to cover a ruined eye. Tarnished silver clamped over his arms. Crude tattoos scratched into his scales. He's a walking cliche, but he's a walking cliche that'd take on the entire tavern in a brawl if I told him to, which makes him alright in my book. But Kid? And Nash, Nag, whatever his uptight brother was called, they weren't Krawk Islanders. You could tell, easy. Almost like a siren overhead advertising them as targets.
Me an' Jax were going to rob them blind once we'd done with all the digging.
"I don't get it," Kid whispered. The words carried too loud and too harsh in the silence. "Why not dig by the dunes? That's where we always dig."
"Exactly," Nag hissed back. "That's where everyone digs, so there's no treasure left. Now stop embarrassing me and keep up." There was the soft clatter of metal as they gathered up their tools, then a stumbling and scuffing as they ran to catch up.
Jax snorted, something that may have been a hacking cough or a quiet bark of derisive laughter. "Amateurs."
"Easy pickings," I murmured back.
We continued in silence for a minute, maybe two. The dunes were faded and hard to make out from this distance. The beach went on for a good few miles yet, but I was wary of overshooting. It was only a short stretch of shoreline that had shown any success rate, and it would be foolish to miss it. Besides, there were stories about this part of the coast. Older than the treasure chests, less truth in them than in a pair of bilge dice, but still. Hard not to be suspicious when this much treasure goes unclaimed for so many years. Makes you wonder why it was abandoned in the first place.
I jabbed my shovel into the sand and shucked the loot sack off my shoulder. "Here. We dig two trenches, running parallel. No more than a couple of feet deep. Kid, you're with Jax; Nag, with me. You find something, it goes in the bag. Clear?"
Nag coughed. "It's uh, it's Nash," he corrected. I stared at him, unimpressed, until he started to fidget. "Um, and, I could dig a trench with Kid...?"
A vein throbbed on Jax' temple. Easy pickings or not, he was going to lose his temper if the two civilians didn't learn to keep quiet and take orders.
"Kid's smallest. Jax's biggest. We're not here for a family fun day, princess." I threw a garden spade at him, the warped wood of the handle making a satisfying thunk against his paw. "Dig," I ordered.
And, thank Fyora, the Kyrii did. His technique was going to give him a stinking back ache if he didn't get himself to the healing springs in the morning, but he kept pace surprisingly well. Not bad for a skinny twig of a Kyrii with far too much hair product in his mane. Even if he did start gibbering like some over-happy newbie the first time his shovel struck the half rotted wood of a treasure chest. I half expected him to open the chest there, but he put it aside almost reverently. Started digging again with a single minded focus, movements clipped and economical. It was… Unsettling.
Kid, on the other hand, was a lost cause. I wondered idly how long it would take Jax to snap and 'accidentally' bury the enthusiastic Wocky in a mound of sand. He'd probably be more use there than his flailing attempts were at the moment - oh, look. Kid's just thrown a spadeful of sand in Jax' face.
"That's it," Jax snarled. In one fluid movement he knocked the spade out of Kid's quivering paws and hauled the Wocky up to eye level. Kid's paws dangled a good three feet off the floor. He scrabbled desperately at Jax' arm, tiny claws ineffective against the Krawk's weathered skin.
"I'm sorry," he babbled, eyes rolling until the whites showed. "I didn't mean to - it was an accident, I won't - "
"Put my brother down!" Nag roared. He lept out of the trench, garden spade held up in front of him like some fancy shenkuu fighting staff.
"Or what?" Jax sneered. He held Kid out to one side, his arm level and showing no sign of strain from the Wocky's weight. His other arm swung forwards, claws glinting in the moonlight. Even half buried in the trench, he was level height with Nag, and three times as broad. He grinned, a mouthful of fangs bared in threat.
"I trained at the academy until they couldn't train me anymore," Nag said, his voice low and heavy. Trying to be the big bad guy. Cute. "And now I train at Mystery Island everyday. My battledome record is flawless."
Jax laughed, hacking, almost choking. He turned and spat on the sand, derision written in every movement. In his fist, Kid hung limp as possible - a scrap of trembling blue fur with his tail tucked under. Maybe he had some measure of self preservation after all, but something else caught my attention.
"You battle, Nag?" I asked. Voice light and casual, leaning on my shovel with one elbow. He flicked an ear back to me, but didn't take his eyes off Jax. "Because, there's a minor issue with that. See, battling - it takes equipment, you know? Weapons. Shields. Healing potions. The usual set, isn't that how it goes?" Both of Nag's ears were turned in my direction now. I smiled, close lipped and tight. Pushed aside the old wives tales about this place, and focussed on the conversation. "You see where I'm going, Nag? You told us you didn't have nothing. Broke out of the pound with only the clothes on your back, isn't that what you said? Some daring rubbish about fighting your way out to protect your darling brother, wasn't that it?"
Jax had cottoned on. His grip on Kid loosened, though he didn't lower his arm. Nag, he stood uneasy and his knuckles were white around the wooden spade handle, but I don't think he understood.
"You lied to us, Nag," I purred. "There's nothing poor about you. You've got equipment, but it's not in your pockets. It's back at home, isn't it? Nice, comfy neohome with a nice, comfy shelf full of shiny weapons and codestones for tomorrow's training session." He shifted his stance, one foot forward and the other back so that he was half turned. It allowed him to keep an eye on me, sure - but Jax was the one he should've been facing. All he'd done was weaken his position. Typical mistake from a pet that only ever fights nice, neat, one on one duels in the arenas. Something in me relaxed at that. There was nothing special about Nag; he was just a greedy con who thought too highly of his own skills.
"So?" Nag shot back. "What difference does it make? I still want the treasure, I still came and worked for it. Besides, you're pirates. Don't go calling me a liar like you're some kind of hero." He tilted his head to glare at me. Jax took the chance to throw Kid into his brother, a graceful arc that sent them both sprawling. Kid scrambled to his feet straight away, claws out, tail fluffed and standing vertical. I could get to like him, if he ever learnt how to keep quiet.
"I ain't fighting a battle pet," Jax said. The tone was insulting, but I could tell he was shaken. Those of us without the fancy equipment, we got by on our fists. What you saw was what you got; Jax was as wide as he was tall, no hiding there. But battle pets? They had tricks. Faerie magic, some of them. Weapons that could take one of us normal folk down in one shot, and even the low level pets could have eight times the endurance they should thanks to the lab ray. It wasn't natural. It wasn't fair, either, but there's nothing to be done about that.
"And we aren't sharing the treasure, either," I finished. I took a step to the side and gestured back towards the dunes. "So if you'll be on your way, we won't take up any more of your night."
Nag gaped. "You can't do that!" he hissed, head twitching to try and keep us both in his line of sight. "We helped you dig - at least one of those treasure chests is ours!"
I sighed. "Nag, Nag my friend."
"It's Nash."
"Nag, what you seem to be forgetting is that you," I flicked my paw at him dismissively, "have a lot to lose. A house, a fat little nest egg in your bank account, a baby brother - who knows where he'd end up if you got separated in the pound? You need to follow the rules, Nag. There's consequences if you break them. And one of those rules is that you can't visit the forbidden shore more than once a day, you know?"
"You've broken as many rules as I have. And you said we wouldn't get caught."
I shook my head, tutting softly just to see how far I could push Nag's anger. My smile was slippery and just a touch too broad. "If you'd only been honest with me," I said. "But really, can you afford to take the risk?" I let my eyes flick down to Kid, lingering just a second too long to be casual.
Nag growled deep in his throat. Took a step towards me, the spade hefted up to shoulder height. A tiny paw on his knee stopped him. "Nash…" Kid's voice trailed off. He looked a mess. Sand in his fur, sweat soaked and exhausted from digging, eyes big and pleading. Seriously, if I could harness this, teach Kid a few things and get him to work for me. I could do great things with someone like that at my command. Shame about his brother.
Nag deflated. "Fine," he bit out, as though the word hurt him to say. "We'll take one treasure chest and go."
Jax started looming again, but I waved him down. We had seven, and time yet to keep digging. I could be magnanimous, even if it went against my nature. Besides, that treasure chest, the little box of whispering darkness buried in the sand that made the fog sit up and dance - it gave me the creeps. Nag could have it with my good will.
"One chest," I agreed. It was a sorry pile of scrap that was rotten through. The rusted hinges were holding on to the black wood by the barest splinters. If there was anything inside, I'd be surprised if it survived the water damage. I pushed it out of the pile with the end of my spade and kicked it across the sand.
Nag nodded. His face smoothed out, the anger leaching away. What was left was blank and expressionless; in the pale moonlight, he looked like some hyper realistic marble statue. He stepped over Kid and bent to pick the chest up, pausing just as his paw touched the lopsided lid.
There was a long, tense moment of silence. Jax shifted his weight forwards and braced himself against one knee. He ran his knuckles over the worn spikes on his boots. Battle pet or no, Nag was trying his patience.
"Nash?" Kid asked.
"Will you let me dig?"
It was a question, but it didn't sound like one. There was no inflection, no rising tone. He had frozen, crouched in front of the chest, eyes fixed on it and completely unmoving.
The fur stood up on the back of my neck.
"Take the chest and go, Nag," I snarled, hiding my nerves with anger. He didn't move.
"I would very much like to dig."
"Nash," Kid pleaded. "I want to go home."
Nag didn't even blink.
"I would very much like to dig."
And this? This right here? This was way above my pay grade. "Jax," I barked. Jabbed my head towards the frozen marionette crouching by that forsaken chest. "Remind Nag where the way home is, would you?"
Jax rolled his shoulders, the tattered edges of his shirt rippling over his biceps. "With pleasure, boss," he grunted. The tooth-filled grin was back. The claws were back. Jax stepped forwards with a confident, rolling stride that made Kid shrink back with a squeak cut off mid breath.
Nag didn't move.
"I would very much like to dig," he repeated.
"Too bad," Jax snarled, and charged.
Kid screamed.
It was over in a spray of sand and the sharp crack of knuckles.
Nag rose from his crouch, the chest cradled delicately against his chest. He stepped over Jax's downed form and walked towards the trench.
"I am going to dig now," he said placidly. His lips were curled into a polite smile. His stance was a stiff mimicry of relaxed and unconcerned, like a robot pet trying to pass as normal. The fog curled possessively over his shoulder.
Panic took me. I was aware, in a vague, detached sense, of scrambling out of the trench, the shovel held in front of me like a pathetic shield. Kid crowded behind me. His shaking claws dug into my leg and he gripped hard enough to hurt, but at that point I had bigger things to worry about.
"Please do," I choked out, my dry throat rasping against itself. Nag turned his head toward me in a precise ninety degree turn that shouldn't have been physically possible. He kept walking forwards, stepping down into the trench without needing to look where he was going. "Thank you," he said.
I backed away, fast. Nearly tripped over Kid. Pulled myself along the sand to Jax.
"Jax," I whispered, keeping my eyes on the trench. Nag had put the chest down and started digging with his paws, ignoring the discarded tools next to him. He moved through the sand at a frightening pace. "Jax! Buddy, you there?"
He was still breathing. He didn't seem hurt, so just hope the healing springs will fix him. Drag him up the dunes, how hard can it be? He'll have woken up by morning, he'll be able to walk to the boat for the rest of the trip. It'll be fine.
Kid buried himself against my side and whimpered.
"Jax!" I snapped. I flinched as I said it, shooting a terrified look over to Nag - but the Kyrii ignored me and just kept digging. When I looked down again, Jax' eyes were open. A bit unfocused, but open. I breathed a sigh of relief. "Jax, come on buddy, we've got to get out of here."
Jax sat up stiffly. I fretted for a moment that he'd been hurt worse than I thought.
He turned to where Nag was carving through the sand, looking almost penseive. It wasn't like him. Jax was the brawns, I was the brain - always had been. "Jax?" I prompted.
"I would very much like to dig," he answered in a flat monotone. I stared, blank incomprehension filling me because - because Jax was -
"No," I denied. "Jax, snap out of it. Now, Jax, that's an order!"
He didn't even look at me as he stood up.
"I would very much like to dig."
Someone was crying. Someone was crying, noisy, hiccoughing sobs.
Jax reached out and plucked Kid away from me, dangling him from one fist in a twisted parody of his earlier action. Kid. Kid was the one crying, and for a moment, I tried to reach for the tiny scrap. But. Kid's sobs dried up. He hung limply in Jax' hand. Not afraid like he was before, just calm. He sniffed, once, and was still.
Then, "I am going to dig now," Kid said, high pitched squeak sounding cold and threatening.
They turned their blank eyed stare on me and I ran.
And there. That's it. That's my scary tale, exactly one year ago today on Halloween. Spooky, eh? Spooky.
Folk here think I'm cursed. Won't come near me. Won't talk to me. Haven't been able to tell that story to anyone, would you believe it?
Oh, lighten up. It's just a story. You think there'd be so many pets going to the Forbidden Shore every day if it was true? Hush your stuttering, you're on Krawk Island. Can't be stuttering around over a measley little story.
Makes you wonder though. Coz they were looking for something, see? Something's buried in the sand and we found a part of it on Halloween. Or maybe it found a part of us, stole it and didn't give it back, you know? But they were looking for something, and they didn't find it in time.
No, don't get up. You've done so well. No one else will talk to me, see, and the sun's almost set so I've got to go soon. Back to the beach, and you'll be coming too. It's Halloween again, see.
And I would very much like to dig.
This is a short story I wrote for the Halloween Issue (yes, I leave everything to the very last minute - it's a problem in life) - would anyone be able to give some feedback on it? I don't quite know where to pitch scary stories. I don't want them to be too much for the Times' younger audience, but at the same time a completely non threatening Halloween story doesn't seem right. I'm a bit worried about getting that balance right in this!
Hey. Hey, you. Over here.
Sit, sit. You want a drink? Of course you want a drink. Why else would you come to a place like this? Don't be so suspicious. It's grog. Fruitmallow, if you're being particular. You can't tell me you came to Krawk Island and didn't ever have no grog.
Oh please, don't look so nervous. I just want to tell you a story, you know? These folks, none of them are interested. None of them want to listen. Think they're more important than that. But you, you'll give an old Zafara a few minutes of your time, eh? Sit back down laddie. Night's young. Plenty of time yet.
I said, sit.
Now. Picture this. It's halloween. It's dark. Group of us, two mates, someone's kid brother, and me, makin' our way down to the Forgotten Shore. We had a plan, see? Dig it up. Take the lot. We had enough of one chance a day, elbow to elbow with the whole of neopia and all them nosy busybodies makin' sure you don't dig a second shot. Forgotten Shore? Pah. Ain't nothing forgotten about it.
But Halloween, all the pets are out trick or treating. Sheets with eye holes and pumpkin candy-buckets, the whole package. Ain't nobody down by the shore on Halloween.
Ain't nobody there. We had a plan, and the plan said ain't nobody there.
Not on Halloween, see.
The trek down to beach was treacherous in the dark. The sand shifted constantly over the dunes, barely kept in place by the whip-thin reeds that lined the bay. Jagged rocks edged in, lying in wait beneath the thin sand like hungry teeth. One misstep and you're tumbling down. You hit the beach if you're lucky, if not - well. You think this shore would be forgotten if the seas were easy? The kraken's the friendliest thing out there
During the day, the beach thronged with pets. Baby pets, elderly pets; faerie pets and grim mutants from the depth of the haunted woods. Everyone wanted a shot at the fabled treasure. They made a steady procession, a living, jabbering stream of bodies swarming over the dunes. You fought your way through the crowd, staked out a patch of dirty sand, and dug. If you had a spade, great. If not, you used your paws, claws, wings. Whatever you had. And if you struck gold, you grabbed it, fought for it, booted aside the greedy hands that crept towards it. Made sure that no one else could take it before you stuffed the coins down your shirt or dragged the chest out of the scrabbling mob.
We're from Krawk Island, sonny boy. We don't play nice when there's loot to be had.
But at night? The sand glinted white in the moonlight, smooth and pristine under swirling tendrils of fog. The winds and shifting tide had wiped the slate clean. All that was left to show of the day before were a few mounded clumps of sand. The odd discarded spade. An opened treasure chest with nothing inside but salt on the hinges. At that moment, the air was still, and even the wssshh-shunk of the waves on the sand seemed muted.
"Creepy, innit," the Krawk grunted.
"Go home if you're scared," the Kyrii in front of him snapped. "Don't need wimps slowing us down."
The Krawk rumbled, a deep, guttural sound echoing out of his barrel chest. "Come again, midget?"
"I said - "
"Shut it," I spat at the both of them. "Jax, put your teeth away. We ain't impressed."
Jax held his snarl for a moment longer, scaly lips pulled back over curved fangs and his yellow eyes narrowed in contempt. He snorted, and turned back to the beach.
"He's right though," the final member of the group piped up. "It's just a touch desolate without all the pets, isn't it? Just imagine what it would have been like to be among the first ones to find it, back when they put the map together. Climbing over the top of the dunes and it was just there, miles and miles of untouched beach just waiting to be explored." He bobbed his head, eyes shining. "Just think!"
"No one cares, Kid." The Kyrii shoved his younger brother forward a step and positioned himself more firmly between the small Wocky and the hulking figure of Jax.
"Don't call me Kid," the Wocky grumbled. He kept it quiet, under his breath, but not quiet enough. Clearly, self preservation didn't run in the family.
The Kyrii darted a nervous glance over at Jax. "So, Boss," he said, turning to me. "We going to start digging, or what?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Dig by the dunes? Go on then, if you want." He bristled at that, the crest of his mane spiking up slightly as he fought for a grip on his temper. I smirked. "The rest of us won't be wasting our time." I resettled the canvas sack over my shoulder and strode off down the beach, tendrils of fog parting and reforming around my ankles with every step. The heavy, lumbering footfalls told me that Jax was following.
You don't come across many like Jax these days. He's a hulking, looming mass of scar tissue and muscle. Stained bandana pulled down low to cover a ruined eye. Tarnished silver clamped over his arms. Crude tattoos scratched into his scales. He's a walking cliche, but he's a walking cliche that'd take on the entire tavern in a brawl if I told him to, which makes him alright in my book. But Kid? And Nash, Nag, whatever his uptight brother was called, they weren't Krawk Islanders. You could tell, easy. Almost like a siren overhead advertising them as targets.
Me an' Jax were going to rob them blind once we'd done with all the digging.
"I don't get it," Kid whispered. The words carried too loud and too harsh in the silence. "Why not dig by the dunes? That's where we always dig."
"Exactly," Nag hissed back. "That's where everyone digs, so there's no treasure left. Now stop embarrassing me and keep up." There was the soft clatter of metal as they gathered up their tools, then a stumbling and scuffing as they ran to catch up.
Jax snorted, something that may have been a hacking cough or a quiet bark of derisive laughter. "Amateurs."
"Easy pickings," I murmured back.
We continued in silence for a minute, maybe two. The dunes were faded and hard to make out from this distance. The beach went on for a good few miles yet, but I was wary of overshooting. It was only a short stretch of shoreline that had shown any success rate, and it would be foolish to miss it. Besides, there were stories about this part of the coast. Older than the treasure chests, less truth in them than in a pair of bilge dice, but still. Hard not to be suspicious when this much treasure goes unclaimed for so many years. Makes you wonder why it was abandoned in the first place.
I jabbed my shovel into the sand and shucked the loot sack off my shoulder. "Here. We dig two trenches, running parallel. No more than a couple of feet deep. Kid, you're with Jax; Nag, with me. You find something, it goes in the bag. Clear?"
Nag coughed. "It's uh, it's Nash," he corrected. I stared at him, unimpressed, until he started to fidget. "Um, and, I could dig a trench with Kid...?"
A vein throbbed on Jax' temple. Easy pickings or not, he was going to lose his temper if the two civilians didn't learn to keep quiet and take orders.
"Kid's smallest. Jax's biggest. We're not here for a family fun day, princess." I threw a garden spade at him, the warped wood of the handle making a satisfying thunk against his paw. "Dig," I ordered.
And, thank Fyora, the Kyrii did. His technique was going to give him a stinking back ache if he didn't get himself to the healing springs in the morning, but he kept pace surprisingly well. Not bad for a skinny twig of a Kyrii with far too much hair product in his mane. Even if he did start gibbering like some over-happy newbie the first time his shovel struck the half rotted wood of a treasure chest. I half expected him to open the chest there, but he put it aside almost reverently. Started digging again with a single minded focus, movements clipped and economical. It was… Unsettling.
Kid, on the other hand, was a lost cause. I wondered idly how long it would take Jax to snap and 'accidentally' bury the enthusiastic Wocky in a mound of sand. He'd probably be more use there than his flailing attempts were at the moment - oh, look. Kid's just thrown a spadeful of sand in Jax' face.
"That's it," Jax snarled. In one fluid movement he knocked the spade out of Kid's quivering paws and hauled the Wocky up to eye level. Kid's paws dangled a good three feet off the floor. He scrabbled desperately at Jax' arm, tiny claws ineffective against the Krawk's weathered skin.
"I'm sorry," he babbled, eyes rolling until the whites showed. "I didn't mean to - it was an accident, I won't - "
"Put my brother down!" Nag roared. He lept out of the trench, garden spade held up in front of him like some fancy shenkuu fighting staff.
"Or what?" Jax sneered. He held Kid out to one side, his arm level and showing no sign of strain from the Wocky's weight. His other arm swung forwards, claws glinting in the moonlight. Even half buried in the trench, he was level height with Nag, and three times as broad. He grinned, a mouthful of fangs bared in threat.
"I trained at the academy until they couldn't train me anymore," Nag said, his voice low and heavy. Trying to be the big bad guy. Cute. "And now I train at Mystery Island everyday. My battledome record is flawless."
Jax laughed, hacking, almost choking. He turned and spat on the sand, derision written in every movement. In his fist, Kid hung limp as possible - a scrap of trembling blue fur with his tail tucked under. Maybe he had some measure of self preservation after all, but something else caught my attention.
"You battle, Nag?" I asked. Voice light and casual, leaning on my shovel with one elbow. He flicked an ear back to me, but didn't take his eyes off Jax. "Because, there's a minor issue with that. See, battling - it takes equipment, you know? Weapons. Shields. Healing potions. The usual set, isn't that how it goes?" Both of Nag's ears were turned in my direction now. I smiled, close lipped and tight. Pushed aside the old wives tales about this place, and focussed on the conversation. "You see where I'm going, Nag? You told us you didn't have nothing. Broke out of the pound with only the clothes on your back, isn't that what you said? Some daring rubbish about fighting your way out to protect your darling brother, wasn't that it?"
Jax had cottoned on. His grip on Kid loosened, though he didn't lower his arm. Nag, he stood uneasy and his knuckles were white around the wooden spade handle, but I don't think he understood.
"You lied to us, Nag," I purred. "There's nothing poor about you. You've got equipment, but it's not in your pockets. It's back at home, isn't it? Nice, comfy neohome with a nice, comfy shelf full of shiny weapons and codestones for tomorrow's training session." He shifted his stance, one foot forward and the other back so that he was half turned. It allowed him to keep an eye on me, sure - but Jax was the one he should've been facing. All he'd done was weaken his position. Typical mistake from a pet that only ever fights nice, neat, one on one duels in the arenas. Something in me relaxed at that. There was nothing special about Nag; he was just a greedy con who thought too highly of his own skills.
"So?" Nag shot back. "What difference does it make? I still want the treasure, I still came and worked for it. Besides, you're pirates. Don't go calling me a liar like you're some kind of hero." He tilted his head to glare at me. Jax took the chance to throw Kid into his brother, a graceful arc that sent them both sprawling. Kid scrambled to his feet straight away, claws out, tail fluffed and standing vertical. I could get to like him, if he ever learnt how to keep quiet.
"I ain't fighting a battle pet," Jax said. The tone was insulting, but I could tell he was shaken. Those of us without the fancy equipment, we got by on our fists. What you saw was what you got; Jax was as wide as he was tall, no hiding there. But battle pets? They had tricks. Faerie magic, some of them. Weapons that could take one of us normal folk down in one shot, and even the low level pets could have eight times the endurance they should thanks to the lab ray. It wasn't natural. It wasn't fair, either, but there's nothing to be done about that.
"And we aren't sharing the treasure, either," I finished. I took a step to the side and gestured back towards the dunes. "So if you'll be on your way, we won't take up any more of your night."
Nag gaped. "You can't do that!" he hissed, head twitching to try and keep us both in his line of sight. "We helped you dig - at least one of those treasure chests is ours!"
I sighed. "Nag, Nag my friend."
"It's Nash."
"Nag, what you seem to be forgetting is that you," I flicked my paw at him dismissively, "have a lot to lose. A house, a fat little nest egg in your bank account, a baby brother - who knows where he'd end up if you got separated in the pound? You need to follow the rules, Nag. There's consequences if you break them. And one of those rules is that you can't visit the forbidden shore more than once a day, you know?"
"You've broken as many rules as I have. And you said we wouldn't get caught."
I shook my head, tutting softly just to see how far I could push Nag's anger. My smile was slippery and just a touch too broad. "If you'd only been honest with me," I said. "But really, can you afford to take the risk?" I let my eyes flick down to Kid, lingering just a second too long to be casual.
Nag growled deep in his throat. Took a step towards me, the spade hefted up to shoulder height. A tiny paw on his knee stopped him. "Nash…" Kid's voice trailed off. He looked a mess. Sand in his fur, sweat soaked and exhausted from digging, eyes big and pleading. Seriously, if I could harness this, teach Kid a few things and get him to work for me. I could do great things with someone like that at my command. Shame about his brother.
Nag deflated. "Fine," he bit out, as though the word hurt him to say. "We'll take one treasure chest and go."
Jax started looming again, but I waved him down. We had seven, and time yet to keep digging. I could be magnanimous, even if it went against my nature. Besides, that treasure chest, the little box of whispering darkness buried in the sand that made the fog sit up and dance - it gave me the creeps. Nag could have it with my good will.
"One chest," I agreed. It was a sorry pile of scrap that was rotten through. The rusted hinges were holding on to the black wood by the barest splinters. If there was anything inside, I'd be surprised if it survived the water damage. I pushed it out of the pile with the end of my spade and kicked it across the sand.
Nag nodded. His face smoothed out, the anger leaching away. What was left was blank and expressionless; in the pale moonlight, he looked like some hyper realistic marble statue. He stepped over Kid and bent to pick the chest up, pausing just as his paw touched the lopsided lid.
There was a long, tense moment of silence. Jax shifted his weight forwards and braced himself against one knee. He ran his knuckles over the worn spikes on his boots. Battle pet or no, Nag was trying his patience.
"Nash?" Kid asked.
"Will you let me dig?"
It was a question, but it didn't sound like one. There was no inflection, no rising tone. He had frozen, crouched in front of the chest, eyes fixed on it and completely unmoving.
The fur stood up on the back of my neck.
"Take the chest and go, Nag," I snarled, hiding my nerves with anger. He didn't move.
"I would very much like to dig."
"Nash," Kid pleaded. "I want to go home."
Nag didn't even blink.
"I would very much like to dig."
And this? This right here? This was way above my pay grade. "Jax," I barked. Jabbed my head towards the frozen marionette crouching by that forsaken chest. "Remind Nag where the way home is, would you?"
Jax rolled his shoulders, the tattered edges of his shirt rippling over his biceps. "With pleasure, boss," he grunted. The tooth-filled grin was back. The claws were back. Jax stepped forwards with a confident, rolling stride that made Kid shrink back with a squeak cut off mid breath.
Nag didn't move.
"I would very much like to dig," he repeated.
"Too bad," Jax snarled, and charged.
Kid screamed.
It was over in a spray of sand and the sharp crack of knuckles.
Nag rose from his crouch, the chest cradled delicately against his chest. He stepped over Jax's downed form and walked towards the trench.
"I am going to dig now," he said placidly. His lips were curled into a polite smile. His stance was a stiff mimicry of relaxed and unconcerned, like a robot pet trying to pass as normal. The fog curled possessively over his shoulder.
Panic took me. I was aware, in a vague, detached sense, of scrambling out of the trench, the shovel held in front of me like a pathetic shield. Kid crowded behind me. His shaking claws dug into my leg and he gripped hard enough to hurt, but at that point I had bigger things to worry about.
"Please do," I choked out, my dry throat rasping against itself. Nag turned his head toward me in a precise ninety degree turn that shouldn't have been physically possible. He kept walking forwards, stepping down into the trench without needing to look where he was going. "Thank you," he said.
I backed away, fast. Nearly tripped over Kid. Pulled myself along the sand to Jax.
"Jax," I whispered, keeping my eyes on the trench. Nag had put the chest down and started digging with his paws, ignoring the discarded tools next to him. He moved through the sand at a frightening pace. "Jax! Buddy, you there?"
He was still breathing. He didn't seem hurt, so just hope the healing springs will fix him. Drag him up the dunes, how hard can it be? He'll have woken up by morning, he'll be able to walk to the boat for the rest of the trip. It'll be fine.
Kid buried himself against my side and whimpered.
"Jax!" I snapped. I flinched as I said it, shooting a terrified look over to Nag - but the Kyrii ignored me and just kept digging. When I looked down again, Jax' eyes were open. A bit unfocused, but open. I breathed a sigh of relief. "Jax, come on buddy, we've got to get out of here."
Jax sat up stiffly. I fretted for a moment that he'd been hurt worse than I thought.
He turned to where Nag was carving through the sand, looking almost penseive. It wasn't like him. Jax was the brawns, I was the brain - always had been. "Jax?" I prompted.
"I would very much like to dig," he answered in a flat monotone. I stared, blank incomprehension filling me because - because Jax was -
"No," I denied. "Jax, snap out of it. Now, Jax, that's an order!"
He didn't even look at me as he stood up.
"I would very much like to dig."
Someone was crying. Someone was crying, noisy, hiccoughing sobs.
Jax reached out and plucked Kid away from me, dangling him from one fist in a twisted parody of his earlier action. Kid. Kid was the one crying, and for a moment, I tried to reach for the tiny scrap. But. Kid's sobs dried up. He hung limply in Jax' hand. Not afraid like he was before, just calm. He sniffed, once, and was still.
Then, "I am going to dig now," Kid said, high pitched squeak sounding cold and threatening.
They turned their blank eyed stare on me and I ran.
And there. That's it. That's my scary tale, exactly one year ago today on Halloween. Spooky, eh? Spooky.
Folk here think I'm cursed. Won't come near me. Won't talk to me. Haven't been able to tell that story to anyone, would you believe it?
Oh, lighten up. It's just a story. You think there'd be so many pets going to the Forbidden Shore every day if it was true? Hush your stuttering, you're on Krawk Island. Can't be stuttering around over a measley little story.
Makes you wonder though. Coz they were looking for something, see? Something's buried in the sand and we found a part of it on Halloween. Or maybe it found a part of us, stole it and didn't give it back, you know? But they were looking for something, and they didn't find it in time.
No, don't get up. You've done so well. No one else will talk to me, see, and the sun's almost set so I've got to go soon. Back to the beach, and you'll be coming too. It's Halloween again, see.
And I would very much like to dig.
