Forgotten Realms

by Cassidy Raine Wolters

  "Roy, it's your turn to read."

  "I ain't reading," he said flatly.

  "But everybody has to take a turn."

  "Nope," he said as he crossed his arms and shook his head.

  Judging from the look on her face, Miss Benson didn't care for Roy Foster any more than Paul did.

  "Well, if Sleepy Hollow is too scary for you, I guess we could make an exception," the pretty, young teacher said in a sarcastic tone that caused the class to laugh. "Just this one time, though," she added with a victorious smile.

  Roy's face turned red with embarrassment as he stood up. "I ain't scared of nothing!" he yelled as he looked around the room defiantly.

  Most of the students fell silent under his withering stare, but one boy in the back whispered, "Bet he's too scared to go in the Old Thompson Place."

  Roy's head whipped around, searching for his accuser. "I tell you, I ain't scared of nothing!" he yelled.

  "Calm down, Roy," Miss Benson said. "If you're not scared of anything, maybe you could go out to the Old Thompson Place sometime," she added with a gleam in her eye.

  "I'll go out there tonight. I'll even wait 'til it's dark."

  "How will we know for sure that you went?" one of the kids asked.

  "I'll take Dewey with me," Roy said as he motioned to one of his buddies.

  "I don't want to go!" his friend protested. "My cousin said his neighbor saw the ghosts of those two boys Mr. Thompson hacked into pieces with his axe."

  "Shut up, Dewey!" Roy said. "We're going. Tonight. As soon as it gets dark." He turned his eyes to Miss Benson and glared as the bell rang.

  As the students filed out of class and headed to their lockers, Roy Foster knocked Paul's books out of his hands again. "Paul the Pussy!" he yelled as he ran down the hallway.

  "That's it. I've had enough of him," Paul said through clenched teeth as he picked his books up.

  "Aww, you're just sore because he gave Miss Benson a hard time," Arnie said. "Everybody knows you have a crush on her."

  "Do not."

  "Do so. You know she's going out with Coach Henderson. If he finds out Roy Foster's been giving her a hard time, he'll get the whole varsity football team after him."

  "That's just a rumor she's going out with Coach Henderson," Paul said. "But listen, I'm serious about Roy Foster."

  "What are you going to do?"

  "What are WE going to do," Paul corrected his friend. "We're gonna go out to the Old Thompson Place tonight. And when Roy Foster shows up…"

  *****

  The setting sun was in their eyes as Paul and Arnie pedaled their bikes to the edge of town. The Old Thompson Place looked more foreboding than ever, there on the hill overlooking the run-down cemetery. The boys hid their bikes and cautiously approached the house, each carrying a gym bag.

  "We'll sneak in through one of the broken windows, unlock the front door, and leave it open a crack," Paul explained as he unzipped his bag and pulled out a flashlight.

  "I don't think I wanna do this," Arnie said apprehensively.

  "Come on!" Paul commanded as he turned on the flashlight and stepped through an empty window frame.

  "When did you get so brave?" Arnie asked, but Paul had already started daydreaming about helping Miss Benson with a flat tire and he never even heard his friend's question.

  *****

  The boys took their positions at the top of the stairs, near a window that looked out over the cemetery to the road below.

  "My mom's gonna kill me when she finds out I cut holes in these," Arnie said as he pulled a pair of bed sheets out of his gym bag.

  "You know Dewey will never come in the house," Paul said as he gazed out the window.

  "He has to, or else Roy will beat him up," Arnie insisted.

  "I'll bet you five bucks he chickens out. He's scared of Roy, but he's more scared of this old house."

  "I don't blame him," Arnie whispered as he glanced around.

  "Look, there they are," Paul said as he pointed out the window towards two figures approaching on foot through the dusk. "See, I told you Dewey wouldn't stick it out," he added when one of the figures turned and ran away.

  "You already owe me five bucks for our bet about the girls' bathroom!" Arnie protested.

  "Fair enough. We'll call it even, but be quiet. Roy's on his way up the hill. Let's go over the plan one more time."

  *****

  Roy Foster picked his way through the dilapidated cemetery by the light of a full moon that was just peaking over the horizon. He was thinking of Dewey, who was going to get a beating for running out on him, and that stuck up bitch, Miss Benson. He couldn't wait to see the look on her face tomorrow in seventh period when he told the class he'd gone inside the Old Thompson Place at night.

  He'd planned on going in through one of the broken windows, but he noticed the front door stood open a crack. Easy enough. Walk in, walk out. Head back home. Well, maybe not back home right away. He'd wait a few hours. Give his old man time enough to pass out from drinking too much.

  He pushed the door and it opened with a loud creak. He hesitated for a moment before he stepped inside. There was just enough moonlight shining through the broken windows and the open door to give him a vague sense of the items in the room.

  A noise made him freeze in his tracks. What was that? It sounded like chains rattling. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as a low moan, like the sound of an injured animal, filled the air. There was some light at the top of the stops, and what Roy Foster, class bully, saw made him scream like a little girl as he ran out the door of the Old Thompson Place. A series of loud bangs made him sprint even faster as he raced through the neglected cemetery.

  Paul and Arnie couldn't contain themselves.

  "Did you hear him scream!" Paul yelled.

  "Those firecrackers were loud enough to wake the dead," Arnie said.

  "This is the greatest day of my life," Paul declared. "I can't wait to see Roy in school tomorrow."

  But their moment of triumph soon passed as two shimmering ghosts appeared before their eyes, the real poltergeists of two teenage boys hacked to death with an axe years ago by Mr. Thompson for leaving their empty beer cans in the cemetery.

  The End

  30 - The Vile, Disgusting Beast

  The hideous beast known as the Grackel first appeared in the valleys west of the mountains two winters ago. It killed the warlord who ruled over the land with an iron fist. At first, the people rejoiced, but they soon came to realize that they'd only exchanged one tyrant for another.

  Time and time again, the Grackel attacked during the night, its eyes glowing blood red in the darkness. It slaughtered dozens of peasants, often preying on the weak and innocent, frequently carrying small children off to its lair in the foothills at the base of the ancient mountain range.

  Fed up with their lot in life, the poor farmers and simple craftsmen collected all the money they could and hired a group of four adventurers to kill the vile creature.

  *****

  "Time to go," said Marnee, a beautiful, half-elven magic-user with blonde hair and delicate features.

  "Whatever you say, gorgeous," said Othello, a bald, black swordsman whose prowess with the blade was legendary.

  Marnee removed some green, matted fur from a pouch that hung from her belt.

  "Ugh, that stinks," Othello proclaimed.

  "It was cut from the Grackel by one of the farmers. I can use it to cast a spell to locate the beast," she said. The magic-user began to chant softly and the clear gems on the necklace she wore began to shimmer.

  "The silver coins the townsfolk paid with have curious markings," said Rafe the dwarf.

  "Yes, I noticed that as well," commented Boone, a swarthy man who made his living as a thief. "I think they might provide a clue to the whereabouts of the legendary treasure we've been seeking for so long."

  "That's a campaign for another day, my friends," said Othello. "Let's focus on the Grackel, for now. Any luck, Ma
rnee?"

  The light faded from the clear gems on the magic-user's necklace. "Yes," she said in a weak voice, exhausted from the toll of the spell. "There's a lake a few miles north. Ready the horses."

  "Whatever you say, beautiful," Othello said with a flirtatious grin that Marnee ignored as she turned and walked away.

  "She's certainly the opposite of a hideous beast," the dwarf said when he was sure she was out of earshot

  "I bet I could bring the beast out of her," the thief bragged.

  *****

  An hour's ride brought them to the black waters of a small mountain lake. The gems on Marnee's necklace began to glow as they approached. "Yes, this is the place," she declared.

  "Good," said the dwarf. "It's been far too long since my axe tasted blood."

  "And my sword grows restless in its scabbard," added Othello.

  "It's time to do your thing, Marnee," the thief said.

  The half-elven magic-user took an oddly shaped bottle from a pouch, removed the stopper, and poured some liquid onto her index finger. "The beast resides in a grotto beneath the water. This powerful elixir will help me cast a spell to grant us access." The clear gems she wore around her neck once again began to glimmer as she chanted and used her index finger to draw a doorway in the air.

  "Get ready," Othello declared as he unsheathed his deadly blade. In response, the dwarf drew his axe and the thief prepared his daggers. "Come on!" the swordsman yelled as he charged forward through the magical door, followed closely by the others.

  The four adventurers swirled downward through the icy waters, but somehow Marnee's spell kept them dry.

  A putrid smell assaulted their nostrils as they materialized in the Grackel's lair. Huge piles of bones lay scattered about the dark cavern, while a vast treasure of gold coins and sparkling diamonds was heaped in the far corner.

  "Where is the beast?" Othello demanded.

  "There!" Marnee shouted as glowing red eyes appeared from the shadows.

  A vile, disgusting creature with razor sharp teeth and long, nasty claws charged forward and plowed the swordsman over.

  Rafe attacked but was effortlessly knocked aside. The Grackel delivered a series of powerful blows that left the dwarf's axe broken and his arm twisted at an odd angle.

  Boone came to his friend's aid, but his daggers were overmatched and his life came to a gruesome end as the Grackel tore his limbs from his body.

  "Othello, the spell we've been practicing!" the magic-user cried. "It's our only chance!"

  He nodded in agreement and steadied his grip on his mighty sword as Marnee started to chant. When the time was right, he heaved his weapon through the air. Powerful bolts of electricity shot from the magic-user's fingers and charged the sword with an indescribable amount of energy just before it plunged into the Grackel and effortlessly sliced through its green, matted fur.

  The lightning from a thousand storms filled the cave. The hideous beast howled in pain as it unsuccessfully tried to remove the weapon lodged in its back. The might of the spell wreaked havoc on the victim, causing its body to twist and contort. The red glow in its eyes completely faded away, but the creature still breathed raggedly. It held a trembling hand out to the swordsman and let out one last, pitiful moan before death finally arrived.

  Marnee slumped to the ground, exhausted.

  Othello raced to the dwarf's side. "You'll be alright," he reassured his friend.

  "That's more than I can say for the thief," Rafe said through clenched teeth as the swordsman helped him up from the ground. "Careful with my arm!"

  "Marnee's healing spell will fix you right up."

  While the two warriors talked, neither one noticed as the magic-user's eyes began to glow blood red.

  The evil spirit from the netherworld had spent untold centuries hopping from body to body, using its host's powers to spread death and destruction across the land. For many years it had possessed the warlord who ruled over the valleys west of the mountains, but two winters ago it fled the warlord's dying body and possessed the Grackel, a peaceful creature that only used its might to protect itself and its offspring.

  Now the entity possessed the might of a powerful magic-user and it was already forming plans to inflict pain and suffering on a scale never before imagined.

  The body that had once belonged to Marnee, a beautiful, half-elven magic-user, rose from the ground. "Grab the treasure. After I rest a bit, I'll cast a spell to take us back to the edge of the lake."

  "Where to then, gorgeous?" Othello asked.

  "Oh, I have lots of places in mind."

  The End

  31 - The Charm Bracelet

  Ally was desperately poor. She wore tattered clothes, not because she wanted to, but because she had no other choice. There simply wasn't enough money. Not since her father left a few years ago. Her mother did the best she could, but trying to raise two kids working as a waitress was next to impossible.

  Ally had one prize possession that remained from those long-ago days when they had more to eat than stale bread - a charm bracelet that she never took off. It was adorned with four charms: a baby carriage, a van, a tuba, and a blue jay.

  That familiar, queasy feeling began in her stomach as she got ready for another day of junior high school. Her mother, as usual, was working the midnight shift at the truck stop and wouldn't be home for another hour. There was some bread left on the table, but Ally decided she would rather go without breakfast.

  She glanced at her five-year-old brother who sat on the floor watching cartoons on a black-and-white television. He seemed instantly aware of her gaze and turned his eyes to meet hers.

  "I'll see you when I get home from school," she said, knowing that there would be no response. After all, her brother hadn't spoken a single word his entire life. The other kids always made fun of him and called him stupid, but Ally recognized he was a genius. He did things and knew things that other people just couldn't comprehend. She often suspected he could talk just fine if he wanted. Before she left, she gave him a hug. She loved him and tried to protect him, but this was a cruel, cruel world.

  Ally was a few minutes late getting to the bus stop and by the time she arrived, the driver had closed the door and started to pull away. She ran and caught the driver's attention, but he refused to stop. The other kids on the bus taunted her as she was left behind.

  She stopped running, stood, and glared. She started to shake with anger and a facial tic made her lips twist into a scowl. She knew she had to calm down, so she focused on her breathing and, through tremendous effort, was finally able to relax.

  "Guess I'll have to walk," she muttered to herself.

  She was halfway to school when a menacing dog raced towards her. Its ferocious barking made her facial tic reappear. The side of her lips began to contort and her head twitched. She tried to calm down, but it wasn't working. "Get away from me or I won't be able to stop it," she yelled. Just as her eyes began to roll back in her head, a whistle sounded and the dog retreated.

  The rest of Ally's walk to school was uneventful, though her blood boiled when she walked past the house of her arch-nemesis, Paige, a blonde cheerleader who took great delight in constantly belittling her.

  It was a typical day at school. Mr. Stonebraker, the gym teacher, ridiculed her when she wouldn't play basketball and assigned her after-school detention. She ate lunch by herself, as usual, but at least the rest of the students weren't picking on her. Until Paige showed up.

  The other kids, while never nice, would at least tolerate her when Paige wasn't around. Not content being the richest, most popular, or best-looking girl in the school, the arrogant cheerleader insisted on being cruel to everyone, especially Ally.

  "Wash your hair once in a while," Paige said with disdain. The comment brought a chorus of laughter from the sycophants and hangers-on who idolized the cheerleader and wanted to be just like her. But Ally had been tormented by Paige for so many years that she was quite adept at ignoring her.


  "Nice dress! Did your mom dig that out of the dumpster at the truck stop where she works?"

  The insults continued until the bell rang at the end of lunch. But, if anything, Paige left the cafeteria more upset than Ally, angry that she was unable to get a rise out of her intended victim.

  The rest of the day passed quietly for Ally. She served her detention for Mr. Stonebreaker, who made her rebound for him as he shot baskets in the gym. Afterward, she began the long walk home, mildly upset that the detention had made her miss the bus again. Maybe it was for the best. She wasn't sure she had the patience to deal with the kids and the bus driver harassing her.

  As she walked by Paige's house, she saw the blonde cheerleader in her driveway practicing some cheers and pom pom moves. Paige stopped when she noticed Ally. A dangerous look crossed her face and she stormed forward.

  "What are YOU doing in MY neighborhood?" she asked, summoning as much venom as she could muster. "People with dirty hair and tattered clothes aren't allowed around here."

  Ally continued to walk, ignoring the taunts, but that only made Paige furious. If direct insults weren't working, maybe a change in strategy was needed.

  "What's wrong with your little brother? I mean, come on, he's five years old and he can't even talk."

  Ally's stride slowed down.

  "Is he retarded?"

  Ally turned and faced her long-time adversary.

  "That's it, isn't it?" Paige crowed, thrilled that she was finally getting a reaction. "Your brother's a RETARD!"

  Ally's body started to shake and her facial tic reappeared. The side of her lips began to contort and her head twitched.

  "Here, I'll do a little cheer for your retarded brother," she said as she started to shake her pom poms. "Give me an R! Give me an E! Give me a T!"

  Ally tried to calm down. She focused on her breathing but it wasn't helping.

  "Give me an A! Give me an R! Give me a D! What's it spell? RETARD!"

  Ally's eyes rolled back in head and she began to lose consciousness. She heard Paige scream as everything faded to black.

  *****

  Ally was having the strangest dreams. Images of a boy playing the same snippet of a song over and over again on a tuba mingled with the cries of an annoying blue jay that had its nest right outside her window. There was a baby that wouldn't stop crying and a guy in a van who wanted to know if she liked candy.