Shantago III: The Rock of Tahguhl

by Penn, Nicholas

  Making my way down the hall, I suddenly remembered that I left something important there in the room. “Hang on, I’ll be right back.”

  This irritated the man and he shouted, “No, son, we can’t risk it! We’ve got to go!”

  Ignoring my protector’s words, I shrugged my shoulders and shouted back, “Sorry, but this will only take a second!”

  I immediately ran back inside the dancing inferno to grab the Toggle Handbook. The fire was quickly escalating in the room as I once again exited. There was no need to stick around any longer, as the sizzling heat was almost too much to bear.

  The man seemed agitated as I once again met up with him. “I said let’s go. Stay alert and get low. You never know what’s around the next corner.”

  Pleading my case to the masked man I said, “I just couldn’t leave it behind.” He let out a deep sigh and then motioned for me to turn down a darkened corridor. Staying low to the ground, the stranger guided me past an abundance of flames and burning debris.

  We hurriedly made our way down the halls of the prison, when all of a sudden I started laughing uncontrollably, which I could tell upset the man. He stopped in his tracks, sporting a snarling scowl evident behind the mask. “What’s so funny?”

  “Well, I thought you were a toggle when I first saw you.” The man appeared to be puzzled for a moment before replying, “And?”

  “I figured I was about to die at that moment by either the fire or by the hands of a monster. Either way, I feared that my goose was cooked.”

  The man didn’t seem to be too impressed by my last statement. “I taught you better than that, didn’t I? Toggles are the enemy–never, never forget it.”

  Did I know this man? I gazed into his eyes. They seemed so familiar to me. He kind of favors someone I used to know, someone I respected… nah, I must have inhaled too much carbon monoxide. Besides, the man I once knew had already crossed over to the other side.

  My mind kept circling back to my last thoughts. “Yeah, it seemed at first that I was being rescued by a toggle, until I saw your eyes, and realized that you were human.”

  At this point, the man had had enough. “Jordan we have to go– right now. This whole place is about to come crashing down. We’ve made it too far to get trapped like this. Now take my hand and I will guide you out of here.”

  Just who was this guy and how did he know my name? I began coughing harder as the hazy fumes were now having an effect on both of us. I felt a little light headed as I said, “Just think, being rescued by a toggle. My gramps always said never–”

  The man abruptly stopped, grabbing my arm tight, cutting off the circulation. With grit in his voice he fiercely declared, “Never trust a toggle. Many have, and many have perished. You will too if you don’t follow me, right now.”

  What did I just hear? I chased the shadowy figure out of the burning building just as the metal support beams collapsed, folding to the ground. I was safe, but I was also more frightened than I’d ever been before.

  Gasping for air, I removed the heavy mask and began wheezing uncontrollably. After a few moments, the heaving stopped and I could breathe again. Peering through the thick, settling dust, I searched around for my new guardian, who was nowhere to be found. Breathing harder yet again, and in a panicked mind, I thought, did I just get rescued by a ghost?

  Hail to the Chief

  “Our spies have reported back to us with good news. My lord, the walls have fallen, and everyone inside the prison, including the Son of Nick, has died. We can proceed with the next phase of our plan, when you are ready to do so.”

  The rain was stinging his face. Ash and soot whiffed on by as he could taste the crisp night air, which was heavy on his tongue. The monster stank of insanity while he mounted the makeshift pulpit. Pulling the air in deep, then deeper into his lungs, he began to speak these blasphemous words: “Hear ye, hear ye–bow down, loyal servants, to Your Excellency, Majesty, and Noble Ruler, Your Royal Highness, Sire, and Lordship, so on and so forth–blah, blah, blah, and a whole lotta lah de-dah. I’ve never been the type to boast, jabber on, or toot my own horn, but sometimes you just have to indulge a little.”

  Shantago received overwhelming applause from the massive crowd that surrounded him. “I once was known to the world as just the keeper of crows, but now they all know me as a mighty tyrant. To my servants, Your Majesty will do just fine. So bow down to me, loyal citizens, for the harvest is plenty, and many spoils soon draweth nigh.”

  Shantago gave a tremendous victory speech right in the middle of town square, where toggles were gathered by the thousands to receive the triumphant news. Shantago growled deep in his throat as he commenced to share his harrowing plans. “They doubted that it could be done, but I, Shantago, proved to all of the naysayers just who the boss is. Today, I dominated Willoughby Woods and soon–yes, I said soon–I will conquer the world.”

  The swarm of toggles cried out in a conquering chorus, still chanting his name over and over: “Shantago! Shantago!” A snardvlark draped a triumphant lei, which was made with toggle floggles and fiery fluggle flowers, around the victor’s neck.

  Blackbirds flocked by the thousands, filling the misty, dark air, as Shantago spoke these deceitful and misleading words for all to hear. “All I ever wanted was peace. Now, because of you, the real heroes that fought the battle of Willoughby Woods, we have achieved such neutrality.” His lying tongue had everyone believing in this fallacious spectacle, even himself.

  With all the pomp and pageantry, there was one present who did not hearken to all of the fanfare given to the evil one. Yes, there was one who felt that he himself deserved all the cheers and ceremony that were given to the king of the toggles. “All of this grandeur and ostentation should be for me, for I am the one who destroyed the entire town in just a single day. It should be me all of the toggles are singing praises about, not that scum Shantago.” General Krylon pondered on all of this while Shantago stood in front of the humongous crowd-so tall and proud-receiving the applause and recognition that Krylon so sorely lusted after.

  Out of the Furnace

  Dusk was setting in and I needed to find shelter quickly, fearing monsters would soon be lurking in the shadows. Sifting through the remnants of what used to be Willoughby Woods, I pondered for a moment about what really happened out there. Another thought that had me even more concerned was this: Where are all the people? As my mind raced on, I wondered if the townsmen were all held captive somewhere by the evil warlords; or were they all just simply dead? Yes, the once booming place that never sleeps–now was a ghost town.

  Smoldering ash and soot filled the streets as cement and block were thrown all about. Buildings had fallen and the streets were broken, melted, all at the hands of the evil one; that I was sure of. The tempered marquee sign was advertising the movie Armageddon at the cinema. “Fortieth Anniversary” the molten sign stated. I wasn’t sure if that was correct, but the title fit today’s cataclysmic events perfectly. It looked like Armageddon had just struck the whole town and showed no mercy; sparing no one in the act.

  As I glanced to the east and then to the west, I noticed that the once famous clock tower was still smoldering, along with the capitol building. A large statue of our founding fathers, which stood tall over the whole town, was now broken and cast away, lying in pieces, with each of their heads decapitated. The bowling alley, the laundry mat, and the supermarket all laid abated in soot and rubble. Even the Willoughby Woods Pentecostal Church was left smoldering and in ruins from the vicious attack. Today it rained on the just and the unjust, precisely like the Bible says.

  I tried to let it all sink in, but it was a lot to swallow. Yes, hundreds of years of heritage and ancestry gone down the drain-all at the hands of the devil himself. My face, my mouth, my lips–heck, my whole body, just felt sad.

  While walking the streets of Willoughby Woods, I noticed something rather unsettling. Now, don’t get me wrong, I see it as a good thing when I observed hundreds of toggles, p
ossibly thousands, lying dead on the streets. The dead bodies make no sense, I thought as I picked up one of the smaller ones to examine the carcass.

  This particular toggle, probably a raw snorg, was dressed in tiny clothing. I’m not sure where the youngling found Nike tennis shoes, much less Oshkosh B’Gosh overalls, but he had them on, right up to his beanie that he wore. Who or what would have done this? I inspected the little guy from top to bottom until I came up with a logical explanation. The only thing that made sense to me was that some way, somehow, someone was fighting back.

  I decided that the best thing to do was to make my way over to the old folks’ home to check on my gramps’ cousin and see if he was still alive. I knew the chances were slim that he’d survived the attack, but I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t go see for myself. Gramps would have wanted me to do so.

  As I headed down the broken road, movement caught my eye. There in the shadows I saw off in the distance were several tiny figures, which were headed right in my direction. At first only a sliver of moonlight illuminated their general shapes. The beings doubled in size once they crested over the cemented hillside. The chilled night air sharply burned as I frantically searched around for anything that resembled a weapon. With every icy breath that stung my lungs, I could hear Gramps words echoing madly in my ears, Out of the furnace, Jordan, and into the fryer.

  I wasn’t concerned at first; in fact, I expected this. I figured toggles would eventually show up on the streets looking for victims. Now that I thought about it, I knew the evil one wouldn’t leave any survivors behind. He was the type that wouldn’t take any prisoners; that I was sure of. His modus operandi was to search and kill anyone that got in his way. I wasn’t sure, though, how I was going to handle those beasts once the time came, especially that many. With no weapons and no support, I was once again standing there wondering if I would survive.

  Sierra Hotel India Echo Lima Delta: Shield

  The night beasts were slowly approaching the streets. I made haste, searching furiously for anything that I could use as a spear. I rapidly made my way to an old, abandoned tow truck. Surely I could find a tool or something that might be used as a weapon.

  As luck would have it, the truck was unlocked. In a hurry, I opened the driver’s side door and did a once-over while I was inside the cabin. The best I could find was a crow bar, and while holding it tight, I steadily prepared myself for the oncoming battle.

  Bracing myself for sudden impact, I made a ghastly discovery, something that sent shivers down my spine. All of the approaching toggles seemed dead, yet alive. How did I know this? Just an observation, I suppose.

  I first noticed that the toggles were slower moving than the regular run-of-the-mill swine, dragging their feet and moaning; their movements were sporadic at best. The closer they advanced, the more I could see that something just wasn’t right about those repulsive savages. Most of the monsters were missing limbs, with huge chunks of flesh already rotted from their bodies. They were also moaning and wailing, instead of the usual toggle chant. Do I dare say it? I believe that these toggles were zombies.

  The monsters rapidly approached from all sides. I instantly realized that I had no escape. I began swinging wildly at the little devils, hoping to make contact and take out as many as I could.

  In a hurry, I figured out full-tilt that a headshot was the only thing that would stop those zombie-like banshees. Soon toggle heads were exploding on impact as I swung for the fences with each hulking stroke.

  In nothing flat, hundreds of war-torn beasts quickly surrounded the tow truck. I climbed inside and locked the doors, but that only slowed down those miniscule creatures. They soon advanced, eating through the glass windows, chomping away at both the driver and passenger sides. I swung my crow bar wildly in the confined space, taking out five or ten of the scamps without any concern.

  The numbers game soon caught up with me. I was eventually blindsided by a zombie toggle as he came through the glass and clenched down hard onto my arm, biting me with his sharp teeth. I closed my eyes and screamed out in terror as I fiercely beat the brute senseless until the pain subsided.

  The next part made no sense to me, as all of a sudden, the morbid toggles tumbled, one by one, to the ground, dead. Each one of those fearsome warriors fell simultaneously, and their flesh rotted, without warning, right off their tiny little bones.

  I didn’t notice at first that all of the toggles were dead. I was mainly focused on my newly acquired flesh wound. The lesion didn’t hurt, but stung, much like a bee sting. The stinger’s poison injected right into my veins with each numbing pulse. I didn’t understand why all of the oozing toggles melted, just like the Wicked Witch of the West in The Wizard of Oz. I was feeling equal to the Wicked Witch of the West because we were both greatly misunderstood and vexed. My distress was this: What did this grim future of mine hold? The damage had been done; a bite from a zombie toggle. For now, the anxiety that was ever so consuming me, eating away at my soul, could be summed up this way: Would I, Jordan Brady, turn into one of those horrible, filthy beings? Yes, a monster, just like the evil one.

  I put pressure on my wound, which was on fire, when suddenly someone stuck their arm through the busted window and pulled open the truck’s door. “Come on, Jordan, we have to get you to safety.” This person also sounded like he was speaking through a tin can because of the rather eccentric mask he wore. I quickly hid my wound under my torn shirt and out of sight. I didn’t want anyone to find out that I’d been infected, and the truth revealed.

  At first I thought it was him again, the one who’d helped me escape the prison walls. That all changed when I saw two other people dressed in the same military attire, looking inside cars and trucks. “What’s going on?” I asked the man, who was clearly a mercenary.

  “We have to get you to shelter first, then I will explain everything.”

  I climbed out of the truck and followed my ally back onto the streets and out of harm’s way. All the while, my mind and my soul worried about the bite mark that I had endured during battle. How much time did I have left before I would break? I felt like a ticking time bomb, and I feared that I would soon explode, killing everyone in my path, good or bad, it didn’t matter. See, once you become a monster, that’s all anyone ever sees, and a monster you are forever known as.

  No Time to Oogle Ogle

  The horde of toggles celebrated in the streets of Willoughby Woods by throwing a wild party. Many toggles had on masquerade masks, which were brought out to embarrass the enemy in their defeat. Many toggles went berserk, dancing in the streets, to mark their tremendous victory.

  A grand feast was prepared in honor of the triumphant victors. Toggle yum-yums and boggleberry wine were handed out to everyone within reach. The spirits ran rampant, and the night seemed to journey on and on. All of the wild banshees celebrated the destruction of the small, now decimated, town of Willoughby Woods.

  Putting the celebration aside for a moment, a certain speaker took to the podium to say a few things. General Krylon spoke these cunning words to the crowd. “Hello to all of my brothers and sisters!” The boisterous crowd went mad as a strong chant resounded for Krylon, which made him thump his chest that much more. “Today, we took out the puny town that is no more. Tomorrow, we will march on and topple the world!” The array of toggles erupted with his conquering words as General Krylon took pride in his accomplishments.

  Forthwith, and by design, General Krylon made an error with his lying tongue. “Once I take over the world, I will make all of the humans our dogs. They will beg for a bite to eat, wag their tails when we say to, and do our every bidding.” One of the mystic toggle elders noticed the mistake and whispered quietly into the general’s ear, correcting him of his error.

  Krylon glared over at Shantago, who wasn’t paying much attention to the speech as the general corrected himself. “Naturally, what I meant to say was all of the toggles, as a whole, a team, as one toggle; the great force. Our king, Shantago, will
lead us into battle to defeat and conquer the entire world. We will back up our king, and follow him in all of his decisions.” Shantago, who was enjoying a roasted turkey leg, acknowledged Krylon with a toggle hand gesture that meant stick it to the adversary.

  As more and more of the pack gathered, Krylon’s words were quite impressive. He seemed to motivate the crowd to bring on the fight immediately, perhaps even that very night. “I say to the multitude, gather your swords, harpoons, and fire stroggles, and prepare for an all-out attack! We can catch them all by surprise if we attack right now.” The crowd erupted with a lively chant, “Yes!” “Yes!” “Yes!”

  Shantago, on the other hand, had different plans. Once he heard how the crowd was reacting to the general’s speech, he stepped in to gain control of the situation. Shantago spoke in a soft, insidious voice as he said, “My good friends, tonight is a night that we rest and proclaim our victory. Let those dogs lick their wounds and be worried of what’s to come while we commemorate our achievements with a celebration.”

  The masses abruptly grew silent at the words spoken by the king. “Let’s all relax and take it easy, for in a few days we will make our attack. We have no reason to jump right in to things. We do not want a tired army to make any mistakes. Trust me when I tell you this. Enjoy and be glad, blow off some steam and listen to me, your king. I know what’s best, I assure you.”